Dames of the Tea Table

Chapters

The Bechdel Test
The Bechdel Test 2- Eclectic Scootaloo
My Fair Fair
A Night At The Club
The Moon and the Lily
Sexless in the city
The Grand Mystic Royal Order of the Nobles of the Brotherhood of the Mustache

The Bechdel Test

Dames

Of The
Tea Table

By Gabriel LaVedier

The Bechdel Test

Tea was steaming, treats were vanishing into mouths and there were cheerful conversations all around inside the secluded side-room used as a meeting place for the Dames of the Tea Table. Fleur de Lis, Lime Sherbert and Princess Luna were having a good time, their hooded cloaks on and hoods flipped back. Besides the usual accessories there was also a pair of sound systems, one phonograph, one boom box. At present time the phonograph was in use, letting out a stream of bright jazz, heavy on the trumpet.

“Thus my reasoning for my selection.” Princess Luna was holding up the cardboard sleeve for the record, tapping her hoof on it. “Why, I do not speak in fancies when I tell thee both the first time I encountered the beauty of Louis Fortinbras du Satchel, heard the wondrous timbre of his horn, I nearly begged to be sent upon a diplomatic mission to the Grand Veldt to thank the Zebras for giving rise to such a musical magician.”

Fleur tapped on her own cardboard sleeve. “I must admit, Fortinbras has undeniable skill, but there is much to be said for one who can play well and lead well. Thus my loyal adoration for the griffin phenom Glade mac Miller O’Harpy. There was not much time between those two luminaries but to hear him and his whole band play…”

“I do not wish to belittle thy tastes, but O’Harpy hath not the singular skill of Fortinbras. The griffin and his modified sackbut art not equals of a trumpet well-played.” Luna puffed her chest proudly, pulling the needle off the cord and levitating the record over to the sleeve.

“But that’s the point, your majesty. It’s not just about a solo player, it’s about choosing talented musicians and arranging them around you, then making them perform as a well-ordered unit. It takes true skill to perform such a feat. While Fortinbras can play with a magical skill he was most often thrust into any random group that wanted his skill; not a single, cohesive unit.”

“Ahhh, if I may insert a dissenting opinion and time period…” Lime opened up a CD case and slid the disc into the player on the boom box. With the press of a button she unleashed a loud, bombastic, yet amazingly coherent burst of a mare screaming and singing all at once. “Puce is a great example of how to be a loud, screaming-mare singer with a brash attitude that can still get a message across, speak intelligibly and make the whole thing enjoyable.”

“Tush, Dames, why such a ruction betwixt us? Clearly we do all appreciate some thing that may be called uniquely ours. Mine own adoration of a singular talent, Dame Fleur’s desire for a well-marshaled band of talents under great leadership, and Dame Lime’s love for a singer of limitless talent in the subtle and audacious.”

“Too true, too true. I think this was a most SMASHING idea. None of those stuffy nobles or moneyed aristocrats can dare leave the grip of their classical music. Oh not that anything is wrong with it, I have heard some fine performances. But as the great Octavia Philharmonica has proven, even the performers have appreciation for more than just that. And I can’t help my great love of swing and big bands.” Fleur sighed and hugged the record to her chest.

“I agree. I never get a chance to talk about music with anypony else. The other palace maids are starting to shun me because I’m no longer a chamber maid, strictly speaking. They seem to think that I think I’m too good for them. I wish I could tell them that I still want to do things with them, if they’ll let me. It’s a bit jarring, losing friends like that.”

“Think not on such things, Dame Sherbert. Whate’er else may happen thou shalt always have we, thy fellow dames, conspirators in this grand, occluded organization.”

“That’s very kind, your majesty. And I really need this kind of camaraderie. So…” Lime cudgeled her brains for further conversations. “So, I have plenty of free time, though I DO enjoy my time with you, your majesty. I have a few hobbies. Did either of you watch the jousting last weekend? I’m all about jousting. And can’t forget the rugby and hornball. I love sports when there’s a good contest.”

“Which joust do you mean, Dame Sherbert? As I understand there were several broadcast on the television plus the local inter-terrace tilt. Though that was on the television too. I was at the local tilt and my WORD that was exciting. Did you see Battering Ram practically burst Hammer Blow out of all of his armor? That mare is unstoppable! I do believe the fifth terrace is in good position to take the Caterlot Series this year.” Fleur looked eagerly to Lime, clearly now on a subject that captured her full attention.

“Do not be so sure, Dame Fleur. I have heard tell the fourth terrace hath been holding Stonewall in reserve, as a strategic maneuver, that their opponents may be complacent before a great fall. And besides that, the sixth terrace hath been ascendant, so far as I have been aware. The trainer hath been a member of many successful inter-city organizations.” Luna gobbled a cookie, then a brownie, daintily sipping tea after her gluttonous gobble.

“Oh even so, I’ve seen the pre-season tilts. Stonewall was no match for Battering Ram. She knocked him OUT. Literally! He’s not in reserve just for strategy, they had a medical sideline on him.” Lime cheerily slurped from her cup.

Fleur looked impressed. “You have pre-season access to the Canterlot tilts? I had no idea.”

“Palace connections. I also follow Sky Jousting and the occasional bit of Lightning Jagging. But I much prefer the Canterlot Inter-Terrace League. And we’ve got cable, so I can follow all the Principality Teams. Trottingham looks good this year but I have to admire the fan base of Coltchester United, jousting AND rugby.”

“Gadzooks, Dame Lime, hast thou said much in few words! I have seen the cheering mass of Coltchester United partisans. Such tumult! Such hurly-burly! Truly, not even if mine own personal guard wert all arrayed as a unit of jousters or rugby players would I dare show such madness.”

“That is why I will never sit in the lower stands at a tilt or match. I mean no offense to those below the high-terrace crowd, but it looks like such a raucous and boisterous thing. As I said, I can handle occasional excitement, but surely not the space of a whole tilt or of a regulation match.” Fleur bit daintily into a thick brownie, unashamedly eating the high-fat treat with all her cultured propriety, seemingly making good on her promise to put on more weight.

“Oh but that is SO half the fun! All those screaming madmares, some of them painted up in team colors or waving the pennants and number ones like weapons, eating the expensive soy links and drinking the expensive cheap beer, the occasional stallion screaming his head off as well. It is a near riot when it’s a close match or when the judgment on a run is too close for their liking. That is some exciting stuff. Sometimes I think I miss out on more than I gain for having seating in a private box.”

“With all this talk of sport… nay. NAY! Let that pass. This talk of sport be good physic for the repetitious nature of our gathering. It doth stir the moist vapors in my fancy. I do have a notion! Dame Lime, hath the guard’s marshaling field been cleared of corps, of both services?”

“As far as I know, the field is clear. No training is planned for a while and nopony should be anywhere near it.”

“Huzzah! Dames, a most glorious notion hath beamed upon mine agile brain. Let us away to the marshaling field. I shall retrieve tilting equipment from the armory and procure a rugby ball by some means. Let us leave off such stodgy doings as becoming the rumpfed wretches we oft slight and the conversations on business of some heat. Let us have our cakes and ale, now that we are well stuff’d with tea and sweetmeats.”

“Why that is a most FABULOUS idea, your majesty! There is no better way to be completely unlike those terrible First Terracers than to perform actual physical labor. And to engage in sports? Why the very idea. I EAGERLY await the chance to tilt. And rugby? The scandal of being involved in an earth pony game. Please, let us away immediately!” Fleur was on her hooves, practically dancing on their tips in unmitigated excitement.

“Come on, Dancing Queen. I’ll show you the way to the field along the paths that nopony will notice.” Lime stood up and gave Fleur a smile, motioning towards the door.

“You know, I love them too. Oh it’s campy, as they say, and rejected by even non-nobles as out of fashion. Maybe that’s another reason I enjoy it.” Fleur trotted around the table, and looked back at Luna. “Shall we intone, your majesty?”

“Nay, Dame Fleur. We be not disbanding this convocation for any reason, merely shifting location to one more propitious to our intentions.” Luna released the ward from the door and opened it up. “We reconvene anon, at the marshaling field.”

“So I always thought we relied too much on the trains and didn’t use airships nearly enough. I know they’re slower, but they can be just as effective at cargo hauling, and they don’t work on a set track. That creates a node-based culture that can exclude oddly-placed communities. Her majesty has been very in favor of more expansion in airships and river shipping.” Lime and Fleur were out at the field, sitting calmly and conversing. The field was a board, flat expanse of tamped dirt, perfectly flat and very smooth, with no dust eddies or other such things.

“I like the out-of-the-box thinking, I truly do. However, I was once at a parlor discussion on that topic and the conclusion was that there is some merit to the regularity of trains, unloading at a node and outbound trains from that node feeding other nodes, not to mention the need of creating airship mooring fields, merely another means of making a node-based culture. Perhaps a balanced mix of airships, river barges and trains could equalize matters, so long as there were overland services to non-standard townships.”

“Plus there’s the overlooked matter of direct-shipping to sky-based cities, as opposed to arrival at a node and later raising by whatever means. Perhaps a Pegasus-specific network of shipping, just to reduce cost in Pegasus-dominant areas.”

“It certainly bears investigation. I know a few airship makers. I’ll have to discuss… Oh, here she comes.” Fleur went from contemplative to enthused at the sight of an approaching magical aura, which looked like a large dome of darkness.

The dome moved along at the speed of a trotting pony, sliding smoothly, if somewhat strangely, across the field. Once it had reached the two mares the dome dissolved from the top down, revealing Luna, who had with her two sets of full jousting barding, several lances, shields and a collection of poles that looked like they could be attached together. “Behold, Dames! Furbished barding suitable for a tilt or three, and a cunning collection of spars that combine to form the rugby post!”

“Two sets of… oh, right. Even if you wanted to participate, and you probably do, as the embodiment of all the races you’re stronger than the strongest earth pony, and would win every time. And probably destroy us. Literally.” Lime looked slightly embarrassed by her initial misunderstanding, eyes closed and smile wide, almost looking as though she was missing a bead of sweat from the side of her head.

“With but a single blow I might rend thy raiment, whether ‘t be metal or no, and crack thy bones to powder. But ‘tis of little consequence. As Princess I do serve as jurist over cases of serious wrongdoing; in this spirit may I be then called to be arbiter of tilts and bouts of all stripes.” Luna dropped the equipment and set to with her magic, building up an earthworks dividing line to indicate the jousting course.

Fleur was already applying the barding to her body, carefully turning and adjusting the pieces such that they resembled the coverage she had seen on professional jousters. The thick forward plates and full-face helmet, the heavy throat covers that had a triangular forward point and swooped back to direct blows backwards, which was repeated on the chest. From the forward left side of her armor she attached the traditional jousting shield, with its scoring zones clearly marked. On the right side of her armor, angled sharply to the left she attached the lance system, a series of pulleys using metal wires that translated neck motion into slight movements that altered the positioning of lances cradled in it. “No wonder professionals have crews to do this. It’s a bit much to do by one’s self.”

“Beats having your body involuntarily turned into a skewered treat ready for a barbecue. As far as it goes, I’d prefer to remain well-armored and without gaping puncture wounds.” Lime suited herself up with a bit more speed, seeming to know how it all worked.

“Very good. Now, as in professional tilts thou shalt begin with the lighter lance. Points for contact as marked upon the shield, full honors for removing the shield or breaking the lance, and the taking of the tilt for bringing thy opponent to ground.” Luna took to the sky, slowly circling over the jousting area. Dames! To your positions. Dame Fleur over yon, Dame Lime, hither.”

The two mares took up their positions and gave their heads a few light twists and angles, moving the lances around while eyeing their opponent. The height, the lean, the way they held themselves. It all meant something. After a flash from Luna’s horn the two took off at one another, hugging the edge of the earthen divider, lances in constant adjustment. The lances thudded heavily into the shields, Lime’s low and angled in, Fleur’s a bit high and straight. Both hit areas of equal points, but Fleur’s bent and broke against Lime’s shield, making her stagger a bit, while Lime’s bent but did not break, instead her angle causing Fleur’s shield to fly off and clatter to the ground.

“Equality! Full honors for ye both! Lances struck thy positions in equal measure. Ye both be on even ground. Replace thy lances and thou thy shield for thy second tilt.” Glowing figures appeared in the air, Fleur’s name and Lime’s name, below which appeared slashes, Fleur’s to the left, Lime’s to the right.

The two unicorns quickly trotted back to the starting positions, Fleur quickly reattaching her shield to her armor, both mares tossing their lances and replacing it with a fresh one. Reequipped and ready, they charged down the lanes again, doing more adjusting of their lances as they approached one another. Fleur hit dead-on again, aiming for another break, while Lime hit at a sharper, more acute angle and added a quick flick of her head to try and lift with her lance. The wood was too light, and only snapped off, flinging shards everywhere. Sadly, Fleur’s lance only staggered her back, not breaking but making her stumble badly enough to send her to the ground through the action of unsteadiness and armor weight.
“Ground! Though thou hast staggered thyself thou was stricken by thy adversary! The tilt to Dame Lime!” Below the first set of scores appeared two new symbols, a dash under Fleur, a circle under Lime.

Fleur was slow to rise, but eventually returned to her hooves, shaking her head a bit. “My word, those groundings are quite an ordeal. I have a new admiration for those brave souls who dare to perform this for a living.”

“Can you go on? Do you want to take a break or something?” Lime was slow to replace her lance, fixing it in the cradle while looking to Fleur with her visor up and a concerned look on her face.

“No, no, I am perfectly fine. Come along, Dame Sherbert, try that again!” Fleur slid her visor down and set herself at the head of the lane, scraping at the ground with a hoof, eager to charge again.

The pair tilted over and over again, the typical fifteen hits. Five with the light softwood lances, five with the heavy hardwood lances, and a final five with bamboo lances, with all the flexibility of the lighter lance with the strength of the heavier, and such a high tensile strength that they were almost impossible to break, being more suited to points or staggers.

At the end the scoreboard was a mass of numbers, a few slashes of various types and a couple of circles. Luna tallied quickly and nodded her head. “Very well! Thy positions be unsure! A last tilt to complete thy contest!”

Though they were sore, and panting, both mares loaded new bamboo lances, took up position and made one last run at one another. Bamboo lances clanged tremendously on their shields, both mares putting all their strength into that one last run. Both lances bowed equally, putting a double strain on each as they fought the force of their opponent and the stored energy in their bowing lance. Both pressed forward hard, heads still as they made their best effort to hold on. Fleur’s hooves trembled, then slipped and finally she lost traction, all the energy opposing her stability finally hitting her and sending her tumbling to the ground in a clattering metal heap while Lime ran on, purely from momentum.

“Ground! The final tilt hath been taken by Dame Lime!” The scoreboard reflected the final outcome, a dash for Fleur, a circle for Lime. All the scores then grouped themselves in the air, numbers tallied together, slashes arrayed by direction and circles and dashes compared against each other. “By pips, thou art even; by breaks and unshielding advantage doth belong to Dame Fleur; but by ground, final arbitration doth grant Dame Lime be victor overall! Huzzah!”

While that was happening Lime had practically torn the armor off of her body and run over to Fleur, who was removing her own barding and getting back to her hooves. “Hey! You doing ok? That was quite a toss.”

Fleur succeeded in getting her helmet off, groaning lightly but slapping a smile on her face. “Oh just a bit of a tumble. Compared to the horrors of a tedious upper class evening with the likes of Jet Set or Upper Crust it is hardly a concern.” She slowly stripped the rest of her equipment, softly groaning and looking over her body. “Physical labor is quite a thing, is it not? I suppose your familiarity with it carried this contest. I applaud your terrace heartily!”

“I guess it’s true. Even as a unicorn if you’re not from the high terraces you have to do a bit of work. Even chamber maids like I used to be have to work hard. I’m gonna feel all this in the morning.”

“Nay, Dames. Thou shalt not.” Luna came down, her horn glowing with power. She gingerly tapped the two unicorns on their horns and smiled as their expressions went from puzzled to pleased. “In the purview of the night is physic to heal the hurts of the body. The domain of Hypnos and Morpheus, where pain vanishes into mere dream, and many wounds art healed. But my sister be she who may make thee whole shouldst thou be grievously maim’d; the day and mighty sun be arbiter of growth of such great strength.”

“Oh, that is nice. Beats the heck out of recuperating on the couch in front of the TV with a pint of Hoorsen-Das and really bad movies.” Lime worked her limbs and grinned broadly, stretching out with a sigh.

“Oh, you mean the terrible romances with wooden dialogue and zero chemistry between the stars? I cannot accept those. They make a mockery of love. But I DO enjoy the comedy that tries so hard it succeeds in the most unintentional of ways.” Fleur tested her limbs and probed at areas that had been bruised before. Perfect.

"Exactly! Like, the ones with the stars that are either way too good for the role but their last real movie did poorly so now they need pay to afford their house, or that are just new and trying to make a mark by being extra weird or quirky but they fail to be charming and come off as teat-chafingly-obnoxious or ridiculously creepy and it's funny because in either case it's slightly pathetic but they just try so hard."

"Oh my word, we have such a similar taste! I do feel some sorrow for such legitimate thespians but they took it upon themselves to play foil to some screaming psychotic or foal actor." Lime laughed heartily and trotted to Luna.

"Great minds think alike. I've gotten her majesty to watch a few… though thanks to the high annoyance factor she has expressed her displeasure with them in very direct ways. We've had to purchase more than a few televisions, and one new movie screen." Lime looked a bit sheepish and took up a place by Luna as well.

"Hmph! My tastes in entertainment came from an age of great literary lights that hath blazed 'cross the sky as legends and muses upon all that have stood in their shadows that they might come close to their grandeur. And we had TRUE comedy: scatology, misunderstandings, cuckolding, drunken revelry and witty turns of phrase made of elements of many languages and composed of most cutting jibes concerning wit, fidelity and prowess with one's partner. Ahhh, the long-ago days…" Luna looked wistful for a moment, then cleared her throat and smiled, “Very good! Now, for this.” Luna flattened the ground back down, then wrapped her mystic tendrils around the wooden pieces that had been neatly stacked beside all the jousting equipment. They flew into the air and attached together into two large, solid rugby goals, which were buried securely into the ground a regulation distance from one another.

"Goodness, that's right. We were also going to do a bit of two-mare rugby. I'm glad I know we may be healed if we are injured. I will be far less restrained." Fleur looked proudly out at the field, then lifted the ovoid ball to her, cradling it against her pastern as was proper for a player.

"That was you RESTRAINED? Why do I get the feeling I got conned on that jousting bit? Nothing to it but to go at it. Should be a good time, even without a team to back me up." Lime stretched her legs and rolled her shoulders, grinning big and bright.

"Meet ye in the centre of the field of contest, set down the ball and prepare to contest with thy bodies, as they do now in what they call the 'scrum.'" Luna took to the air once more and flew to the center of the field. "Be ye not caitiffs in his contestation. Strike hard and battle well for thy prize!"

Fleur set the ball down at the area that was approximately the center of the field, then backed up a bit, facing down Lime with a smile. "This is going to hurt. A lot. Isn't it?"

Lime smiled right along with her, dropping down and looking at the ball set between them. "It always looks like it does. But what the hay? You looked like you were having fun with the physical activity. Let's keep that up. Maybe we can ignore the bad parts."

"And… begin!" A whistle pierced through the air, Luna's horn producing the sound from the air.

Both mares threw caution to the wind and threw themselves at each other, striking chest to chest, slightly shifted to the right such that their left shoulders were also mashed together.The shocking smash knocked them into a small coughing fit but they persisted, baring their teeth and lightly grunting as they shoved hard. Both had to suppress the desire to use their horns to grab at the ball; it was an earth pony game, no magic or flight allowed. They scrabbled with their forehooves, trying to shove as hard as possible, while also scrabbling to grab the ball and bring it up to start their run for the goal.

By some miracle of battering, twisting and shifting Lime managed to bend down and scoop up the ball, thrusting herself hard against Fleur's chest and breaking into a run as the fancy mare tottered on her long, spindly legs. Lime broke into a desperate dash, crushing the ovoid vinyl thing to her chest and doing her best to go full-out.

The wind rushed through her mane, horn parallel to the ground for an extra, added dash of an aerodynamic profile. She was chugging along nicely, a smile on her face. She was going to run away with this one again. It almost seemed unfair but, she had the skills and showed it. Her great cheer and feeling of impending victory completely blinded her to anything around her, which is why it was such a surprise when she was stricken from the side by Fleur's body, making her stagger and slow down. She looked to the side and saw the other unicorn there, trotting along with all her strength, and throwing herself aside repeatedly and into Lime's body.

The battering was quite effective, eventually making her bobble the ball to the ground. Lime was upon it in a second, diving down for it and covering it with her body as Lime slammed into her side in a late attempt to recover. With a great push against the ground Fleur surged upwards, tossing Lime away, if only a small bit, taking off on three hooves afterwards.

"Not on my watch!" Lime picked herself up off the dusty ground and tore off after Fleur. The white unicorn, who was no longer quite as pristine as usual, was cantering carefully, making up the distance to her goal. Fleur came up like a steam engine, chugging away with all four legs. But as she was about to slam Fleur to the dirt, the nimble, gracile pony deftly spun out of the way with almost a pirouette.

"You can imagine, I took a lot of ballet…" Fleur executed a grand jeté over another of Lime's attempt's at tackling. Though her speed was lower, and she was no great physical threat, Fleur was a dodging, twisting, leaping machine. She even waited until she had given another huge jeté over Lime and gotten her off-balance before she dropped the ball and gave it a kick.

"A score! A score! Three points to Dame Fleur!" Luna marked the air with a three in glowing white, beside a lime green zero. She retrieved the ball with her magic and brought it back to the field of play, with a slight nagging at the back of her head. Had they all forgotten something? It seemed like something had been missing from their conversation. After dismissing it, she dropped it to the field with a smile. "Kick, Dame Fleur! Dame Lime, prepare to receive!"

The End

The Bechdel Test 2- Eclectic Scootaloo

Dames

Of The
Tea Table

By Gabriel LaVedier

The Bechdel Test 2- Eclectic Scootaloo

“Sister? Sister? Where are you? I have come on mine own time to spend sisterly moments with you. Sister?” Luna scanned around the grand throne room. She had expected to find her sister upon their shared dais.

Since the uncontested reunification of the Principality, from Diarchy-in-Abeyance to a formal Diarchic Principality the throne room had been redesigned, to create two thrones of equal height, size and prominence beside one another. The primary difference was that her sister’s throne was marked with a golden sun sign, like her Cutie Mark, while her own was indicated with a silver crescent moon, as in her Cutie Mark. From the perspective of onlookers, her throne was on the right and her sister was on the left. She examined the throne and the table beside it. It was laden with scrolls and other papers, including a note. “My dear sister, Should you find this message, I want you to be aware that I am a bit indisposed at the moment. I am conducting a personal inventory of the Star-Swirl the Bearded archive. As you know, this can take a long while. Fear not, dear sister. I can still do my duties. I’m sorry if you wanted to do something. I know I should have told you, but you were otherwise occupied. I’ll make it up to you. Sincerely, your caring sister.”

“Ahh sister, your dedication ever shows.” Luna smiled and shook her head in mirth. “And so many other matters vex your troubled mind. How fortunate your double in power and wit be here to aid you in your time of need, brief as it may be.”
Luna dug her way through the papers and scrolls, seeing quite a few dry and perfunctory communiqués speaking of royal policy changes that did not change much at all, aside form further clarification of the State Secrets Act, which had been a point of contention for some nobles. Messages to and from nobles that had been flagged as troublesome, consisting mostly of half-finished vague threats and fawningly servile promises of improvement, marked with margin notations of disbelief in rather… spicy language.

“Tsk. Sister… such gutter talk! I approve...” Luna laughed again and unrolled those scrolls whose seals were broken. Correspondences with official scholars on tedious matters concerning town histories, legal matters, and other very uninteresting things. One in particular caught her eye. The broken seal was that of Twilight Sparkle. A quick glance at the unrolled parchment confirmed it. “This be not the claw of thy famulus. This be thine own horn-born script. How deeply personal. What ist this that doth move thy liver? Trouble in thy romance? Art thou vexed overmuch by thy haphazard intended? Do not surrender! Persist! Excelsior! Thy tender closeness gladdens mine heart, granting hope that mine own mismatched match be destined to be mine…” She then read the letter itself.

“Dear Princess Celestia, I’m having a bit of trouble here with the sister of my friend Rarity. Sweetie Belle has been doing everything she can to start and maintain a relationship with her friend Scootaloo. She’s had some success, having her be in a play, getting her to admit her feelings somewhat, but… she’s worried about the stability of the relationship. She has confided in me that she fears they may be too different. Thankfully, showing off how close I am to Pinkie Pie helped. But she still feels so uncertain. I worry that Scootaloo may be too uncertain about a lot of things, and too driven to extremes and brashness, to make the relationship flourish. Any advice would be useful. Thank you. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Ahh, dear Twilight Sparkle… how heavy must this matter of love weigh upon thy tender heart. As thou hast found love so thou now wishest to nurture love in others, starting with this filly fair and her own mismatched match. Thou movest mine heart, though thou had no ken thou wouldst. Such uncertainties be intolerable!” Luna set the scroll down and took on a determined look. “A convocation!” Her tone thundered with the traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, and her horn glowed, simultaneously teleporting her away and sending out a call through the mana fields.

“So I was saying to Maple, I said, “Sure, you can do that, but really, isn’t it better to do it the right way?” Then she just went off on me.” Lime Sherbert leaned against a column, casually using her magic to clean a stained glass window depicting a gargantuan Princess Luna presiding over the night, including figures of canine-creatures drawing carts of gems towards a circle of caravans surrounding a fire ringed by dancing pony figures. The thing looked brand new. “Sure enough, Princess Celestia could taste the shortcut. She didn’t really make a big deal about it, but Maple KNEW she knew. That’s one kitchen mare that won’t be passing off mascarpone and whipped cream as real from-scratch clotted cream.”

“Honestly, those kitchen folk try to pull off all sorts of things because they think nopony else is sensitive enough to notice. Remember the imitation marzipan incident? No matter how much almond extract and rose water you dump into it, we can all tell it’s just peanut meal.” Another mare, an umber earth pony with a cinnamon mane, worked on mopping the floors. She was dressed in a maid’s uniform, just like Lime. “I just look forward to guest chefs. They inject a bit of quality. Remember that Gustave LeGrand? Oooh his pastries were delicious. And I love how he changed his name for pony culture. Only problem was he didn’t give me a second look. I even did a tailflick right in front of him.”

“Oh Fireclay, honey, you are DEFINITELY clopping up the wrong tree on that one. I’m not going to pass on rumors but let me just put it this way… you’d have a chance if your were fatter, a unicorn and could cook. And didn’t need a haunch-harness to give him what he wants about half the time.”

“Well THAT’S a new one. Ah well, that seems to happen in the palace. Princess Celestia has a reputation for being very generous and accepting.”

“She IS an admirable mare. But I am, of course, very loyal to her majesty Princess Luna. She was the one who had that Diamond Dog chef in. I have to say, I was surprised. He used such simple ingredients and made such a good meal of it.”

“That’s hardly a surprise. You heard him. He was using Zaldi-grown ingredients. That stuff is magic on its own. But yea, you’re right. That wasn’t bad. Princess Luna seems to like giving underdogs like that a chance.” Fireclay thought a moment, looked around and said, “No offense.”

“Rose Topaz is up polishing mirrors in the guest quarters. No worries there. I had no idea you were sweet on her, too.” Lime hid a chuckle behind a hoof.

“No! I am merely being polite, aware and emotionally sensitive to potential offense.” The umber mare paused a moment and added, “But for being so short she’s kind of cute.”

“You think everyone is cute. But I can’t really say much about anything, after all I-” Lime was cut off by a sudden flash before her eyes coming from the tip of her horn and the writing of the words, We Convene in the air. “That’s for me. I must attend to her majesty at once. This thing’s clean enough anyhow.”

“Wow. Even being called for is antique. Have fun dusting the ancient knickknacks or whatever it is you keep having to do. There’s a pool about that among the maids and stewards. I put a few bits on being a warm body she can blab at, plus having to sit through that old theater junk she likes.”

“A little something like that. Catch you later. Oh yea, you missed a spot.” Lime grinned to herself as Fireclay looked around quickly, trying to figure out which identical spot of floor she had bypassed.

Fleur shifted uncomfortably. Another stuffy meeting of rich ponies. And she could not refuse to attend because Upper Crust was also in attendance and she HAD to show up at places where Upper Crust appeared. Her prominence was at stake. Memories were short, contempt was long. She sipped at a bland cup of tea, longing for Princess Luna’s personal blend and staring with veiled contempt at the pitiful snacks on offer which had barely been picked at. She knew well her new thickness was looked on with an askance glance, despite the fact that Princess Luna was sporting it; they still held to the primacy of Princess Celestia, as foolish as such a thing was.

“So, miss de Lis, have you any new subjects for our conversation? Surely you must have FASCINATING topics; if reports are to be believed you have seen more of the terraces of our fair metropolis than any of us.” The host for that particular party, Porcelain Shine, spoke with a smile on her slightly-older face.

She seethed. Upper Crust smirked and gave a small wave of her hoof. Fleur inhaled and exhaled, calming herself. She was bigger and better than Upper Crust. She could rise above such a petty bout of gossip and petulance. She put on a pleasant smile and nodded. “Oh yes! I do indeed. So, I was having a conversation with an insider at the palace…” She let that sink in, savoring the change in attitude. The other ladies leaned in slightly, while Upper Crust scowled. “We decided that it would be a general good for the nation to decentralize distributions, to create a system that broke down traditional node-based transport and shipping which gave undue prominence to distribution-center-containing communities and which inhibited the growth and fortunes of smaller and oddly-placed communities. Also we should consider airships and other air-based transport to directly serve pegasi and not leave them at the mercy of ground-based distribution… networks… as we do… now…” Fleur’s words tapered off. She had clearly lost the audience. They were giving her blank stares, and stood like statues. Even Upper Crust looked fairly gobsmacked.

“Well… ladies I believe this is a good time to pause to attend to any small matters…” Porcelain smiled pleasantly and rose from her seat, prompting a mass of copied moves.

Fleur was the last to rise, coming up slowly with ponderous motions and sharp thoughts. Vapid, thoughtless imbeciles. They wouldn’t know intelligent conversation if they were paid to! As Fleur thought that she stalked away to a secluded spot to fume. At that moment her horn suddenly came alight, a burst of magic catching her notice, along with the magically-written words, We Convene. “Ah! The day improves.”

“And just what do you mean by that? And what was that flash just now?” All of a sudden Upper Crust was there, looking both smug and nosey.

“Just a little something reminding me that I have pressing matters to attend to. Please extend my regards and apologies to Porcelain Shine, but I just remembered that I am tardy for an appointment at the palace. Do excuse me.” Fleur gingerly, but unhesitatingly, pushed past Upper Crust, towards the front door.

“Oh, come off it, you don’t have business at the palace! Why you’re as transparent as that impudent little pretender that swooped in here before. You have even fewer palace connections than that seamstress bumpkin, so don’t try to put on airs with me!”

“Ask at the palace. Check with her majesty Princess Celestia’s head gate guard, Cavalier Golden Stare. He can confirm I am a visitor of some frequency. But, I cannot stay here and gabble with you. Ta-ta, Upper Crust. Have fun!” With that, Fleur sashayed out, leaving the other mare gritting her teeth.

“Hello, uncle Rosy. Is uncle Glarey up at the front gates waiting for Fleur?” Lime fell into position beside her uncle-in-law, smiling a bit at the fact that the mention of his husband’s nickname brought up the blush a touch more.

“Come on, you know he hates that nickname, Limey-wimey! How would you like it if I called you Froggy-face, like he used to?” The slight, white Pegasus smiled aside at his niece, watching her look playfully indignant.

“I would have to call you Tomato-face. Hmmm, uncle Tomato-face and uncle Glarey. That sounds like a foal’s book. I should write that. Put in some cute illustrations, get it promoted on some of the better television shows and magazines, it could be a great foal’s primer for accepting Colt Cuddlers. Worth looking into, don’t you think?”

“There are a few books like that. But one more couldn’t hurt. Equestria needs to move on. It can’t just be the folks in Canterlot that are enlightened, and then just because Princess Celestia is here. But you should ask Golden, even if he’ll probably tell you not to bother. I swear, he’s just so hard to handle sometimes. Just glad I figured out all his ticklish spots to make it easier…”

“Oh! Oh! Uncle Rosy! Too much info and then some! Please save my innocent ears from knowing stuff like that about my uncle.”

“Ears? Well, that’s actually the third favorite spot, just behind the cup and down with just a little pressure while…”

“Aaaah! No! No!” Lime shook her head and waved one leg, trying to block the image out.

While Lime was desperately trying to shut out images of her uncles making out, the previously-mentioned Golden Stare was standing at the front doors to the palace, watching Fleur pull up to the front gates in a hired carriage. “Her majesty is expecting you, as you probably knew. Please, come with me.”

“Thank you kindly for the escort, Cavalier Golden Stare. But I know the way to her majesty’s preferred chamber.” Fleur smiled pleasantly to the upright guardian.

Golden smiled a bit. “It’s my pleasure. As you can imagine, there are some disadvantages to being THE front gate guardian… with my husband, of course. I relish any variation. Besides, her majesty has chosen a new chamber this time, for some “emergency” as she says. It’s upstairs, in one of the guest quarters.”

“An emergency, you say? Sounds serious… Please, lead on!” She was glad for the break from the horrid party. But an emergency? What could she do? And what was the nature of the emergency?

“My Dames, there be an emergency!” Luna spoke in the traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, projecting waves of sound at the two mares, blowing back their hoods before they had a chance to push them back following the invocation. The three had convened in a shadowy room filled with covered lumps, curtains drawn over the windows and all the normal appointments of a bedroom pushed haphazardly to the side.

“Y-yes, so we were informed, your majesty. I went all the way to the regular meeting place before uncle Rosy came to get me.” Lime looked rather shaken, despite being well experienced with the Royal Canterlot Voice.

“You saved me from a most tedious party. However, if this is so serious… I got a carriage using the royal envelope I had for extra speed. Please, tell me, wh-what is happening?” Fleur was more concerned by the nature of the emergency rather than the slamming rush of air.

“There be a critical emergency of the heart!” Luna opened the curtains to flood the room with light, revealing little more than before but making the atmosphere less oppressive. “And we, I do believe, may hold the physic to cure this most loathsome ague.”

Silence reigned. Had a tumbleweed chosen to blow through neither stunned unicorn mare would have found it at all unusual or inappropriate. It took them a while, but Lime was the one that finally spoke. “A… love emergency?”

“Most certainly, Dame Lime! What could be more vital than matters of the heart? Surely we all, out of most in the whole of Canterlot, may appreciate the matters of love and sadness at the lack.” Luna looked at Fleur and Lime with a hairy eyeball, both mares dropping their heads slightly in chastisement.

“Begging your majesty’s pardon. Of course love is important. Most important! And as I said, you rescued me from a tedious party AND allowed me a moment of smart triumph over Upper Crust. There’s nothing finer than a clear victory over a terror like her. I actually feel in a mood to be a help today.” Fleur sat back with a casual, broad smile.

“I was gossiping with Fireclay and polishing your majesty’s new window. And a lovely thing it is. Your night has never looked finer. And it was very kind of you to include Diamond Dogs and Roa. After so much dismissal they deserve something like that.”

“Most gracious of thee, Dame Lime. Yes, the royal glaziers did question mine inclusion of such ‘lowly’ beings. Oh such words did I say! I did break body and soul with lashing of mine eely member! Such as they, the Diamond Dogs and Roa need all notice they may receive from such as we, that they may be brought above the lowly position foisted ‘pon them by low-minded highborn.”

“Hear hear!” Fleur shouted, suddenly.

Lime leaned into Fleur‘s personal space, brow quirked curiously. “Ummm… Dame de Lis? Aren’t you ‘highborn’? Surely much more than me, and as much as anypony without a peer title stapled onto their inbred pedigree.”

“Yes, but I am not a LOW-minded highborn pony. You must realize by now my mind is both high and broad, enough to listen to swing and joust and play one-on-one rugby. I am the kind of mare nobles despise. The rich too. What do you call them, your majesty?”

“Bombast-cotton-candle queans and golden calves.” Luna said, with a slight laugh.

“I am none of the above. But I think we’ve moved slightly off topic.”

“Yes indeed, your majesty. Please, do tell us of this love emergency.”

“Of course, Dame Lime! It was intimated to me via private message that there was trouble in Ponyville, concerning a matter close and dear to the heart of miss Twilight Sparkle…”

“Oh no, majesty! Not Miss Sparkle! I thought her romance was so certain! She had been considering how last names were to be meshed and all.” Lime clapped both hooves to her mouth, eyes wide and shining.

“Oh my word. This most certainly is an emergency. A rift in the Elements, and between two who seemed so sure.” Fleur shook her head and stiffened her back. “Let us do what we must to repair this dreadful split.”

“Nay, my Dames, nay. Cool thy choler and thy blood and raise thy phlegm. ‘Tis no rift so great as between Miss Sparkle and Miss Pie. They be well ensconced in the gentle pinions of pure love. The rift be betwixt a young charge of the inimitable young mage and her filly love. A filly by name of Sweetie Belle, sister of the elegant Rarity, hath much sorrow in her romances with one brash filly by name of Scootaloo.”

The other mares nodded their heads and smiled a bit, Lime noting, “Oh! Well that’s different. Filly love is a lot more flexible and can survive these little bumps. Still, if it was noted, there must be some problem of some measure of seriousness. I suppose it really would be our duty to help. What does your majesty suggest?”

“The solution be most elegant. As this Sweetie Belle doth have benefit of her sister and miss Sparkle, it falls to we three to find this figure known as Scootaloo and bring her to this place. And it happen our actions succeed then how well will we be regarded by they two, in secret, forsooth.”

“But what advantage would there be in bringing her here?” Fleur looked around, mostly taking in the cloth-covered objects and the furniture pushed to the side.

“In the main, we shall have an opportune moment to instruct her, that she may reck her responsibilities in matters of love. There be other considerations but let that pass for the nonce. Afore the feast, the cooking; afore our actions, the bringing. Come, my Dames! We travel in the most expedient fashion we may possess, by thaumatic means. To me.” Luna opened her wings, taking Fleur and Lime beneath them. Once they were folded against the mares Luna’s horn glowed with great power and then all three vanished with a surge of light.

“Hey Scootaloo! Y’all gonna come ta Sweet Apple Acres?” Applebloom cried out across the schoolyard towards her orange friend, Sweetie Belle looking on hopefully from nearby.

“Uhhh… n-nah. I’ve gotta practice my tricks and do my flying exercises. Rainbow Dash says I need to work on my upward thrust and not just the forward I use for my scooter.” Scootaloo smiled insincerely, looking to Sweetie several times but not lingering too long.

"O-ok. We'll see you later, Scoots." Sweetie smiled too broadly and turned to trot off with Applebloom.

Scootaloo slapped her forehead and shook her head. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid...' She looked over to the schoolhouse to see Cheerilee looking over at all the departing students and making certain they all got safely out of the schoolyard. It was just a little longer before she could get home to her fiancée.

Scootaloo thought miss Cheerilee was lucky. She had a pretty mare that was just perfect for her. They were matched in every possible way. She and Sweetie were as different as possible. What was she even thinking about? It was dumb of her to think anything could really come of it. When Cheerilee married Toola Roola it would be perfect. She’d never have anything like it.

The distraction of self-loathing and uncertainty blinded Scootaloo to her surroundings. She actually missed the flash of light and thumbed rather strongly into the suddenly-present figures in the Ponyville road. “Ow! Hey! Watch where…” The comment stopped, dead, as Scootaloo noticed that her interrupters were a trio of figures, two of them very tall, though one taller than the other, wrapped in dark, embroidered cloaks with their faces concealed in darkness.

“Scootaloo!” Cheerilee shouted desperately as the mysterious figures grabbed the small Pegasus filly, vanishing with a sudden flash of light. When it had cleared nothing remained save a fallen scooter, a roll of parchment and a bulging pouch.

Another flash and all four females were in the castle room again. But Scootaloo did not know she was in a castle room. She really did not know anything at all. She was just looking up at the trio of hooded figures with a wide-eyed trembling. “Wh-what is this? What’s going on? Don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt ye? Aye, nay! Shalt we not bring injury to thine innocent form, young wight. We seek only gifting thee of thine earned deserts. And shall we teach thee to reck thy needs in thy matters of the heart that thou shalt be worthy of thy deserts.” The tallest figure spoke with a surprisingly soft voice, though her face was still concealed in an artificial darkness.

“Uhh… what?” Scootaloo ceased her fearful shaking and just looked up at the three ponies with utter confusion.

“Please, allow me, majesty.” The green mare spoke to the tall one, then looked down with her concealed face seeming to…smile. “Now, little filly. Don’t worry. We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help you! We have heard, though private sources, that your romance isn’t going so well. So we thought we could give you a bit of assistance.”

The confusion deepened, and was joined by a deep blush and a slight flutter of wings. “R-romance? I don’t… I mean yea I… I kinda have a crush… wait! That’s no business of some creepy strangers! Let me out of here! I have to go practice my flying.”

The three figures looked between one another then back down at Scootaloo, the tallest one speaking again. “Aye, as presumed. She doth play her breeches role according to the inches she doth lack. Truly, the errand be great before us. But worth each bit of pain for future gain. Very well. We begin!” There was the flash of magic from under the hood and suddenly all the covers came up off of the lumps, revealing a great number of mannequins, dressed in all styles of clothing, from ancient to modern. As well, there was revealed a well-stocked makeup table, and the door to the bathroom, which looked very steamy. “Dame Fleur, thou hast the skill, lead us in this endeavor.”

“Alright…” The white figure slowly strolled around Scootaloo slowly, clearly tracing her with a critical eye behind the magical concealment. “A bath must come first; scrub, preen, condition, the whole thing. After that we can start on all the other parts.”

The tallest, the leader, lifted Scootaloo in the grip of her magic and carried her to the steaming, sweetly-scented bathroom. “Come! We shall lave her here, for ‘tis a passing fair mockery of the palace health baths, with all sweet herbs and unguents as may be found.”

“Wait a minute! Can’t we talk about this? I don’t need a bath! I just had one five days ago!” The tub of warm, scented water approached ominously. “I’m not even covered in tree sap!” The protests fell on deaf ears, and she was finally dunked, a bubble of magic keeping her capable of breathing.

“No need to be too harsh. Yes, she is very… fragrant, let us say. But it comes of rushing about on her conveyance, I would imagine, and her generally coltish-seeming nature. Use the medium-firm sponges and plenty of the scented soap.” Fleur lifted a sponge and vigorously worked up suds with scented liquid soap, then attacked Scootaloo’s squirming body with it.

There was not much in the way of commentary, except for the occasional squeak and yelp from Scootaloo. Her body was cleaned from snout to tail and ears to hooves, save for more “personal” areas which were pointedly ignored and even hidden with black domes of artificial night. Her wings were gingerly cleaned and the feathers put into proper place, with loose ones picked out and the support structures carefully massaged. Mane and tail both received thorough shampooing and an extended session of conditioning.

The action concluded, all three used their magic to dry Scootaloo off with great speed. The green mare nodded in seeming satisfaction. “Perfection. Shall we move on to more details?”

“Aye, Dame Lime. She be perfumed sufficiently well. She doth lack only the artificial touch of paint and powder. Tush… to believe I once did make light of such. How swiftly doth love change thought on such. But in the main, I believe the fine mares of Canterlot avail theirselves overmuch of rosewater and rouge, that they do shame cats and drabs as the divers lot may be called. But let that pass. A touch and dash be sufficient to draw out natural beauty. Let us empower her true beauty that she may ensorcell her intended.”

“Subtitles! I need subtitles! Somepony! Anypony! Stop the insanity!” Scootaloo Squirmed in the magical grip, finding herself suddenly in front of the makeup table. “Awww mane, it was bad enough when Rarity did this for all three of us. I didn’t even get a ‘putting up with stupid stuff’ Cutie Mark.”

“The key is subtlety. As her majesty mentioned, the finer ponies, especially the hereditary peers, seem to believe they need to slap it on with a knife. It’s like they empty out every shop.” Fleur began to work, applying light dustings of sweetly-scented powder.

“Indeed, indeed. It seem as if every part of Canterlot doth own a piece of the high-terrace ladies. We must use caution, lest we make this youngling naught but one more peruke-clad punk.” Eyeliner gently slid along around Scootaloo’s eyes, her head held almost unnaturally still by several magical grips.

“Perish the thought, your majesty. It’s all about the little things that make this most effective.” Lime lightly brushed shadow over Scootaloo’s eyelids, the shade just a touch brighter than her normal color and with a different tone.

“Too true. Just a little brush and touch can do so much it is almost like a magic that every mare and comfortable stallion can enjoy.” Fleur brought a mascara brush to bear against Scootaloo’s lashes, thickening and lengthening the tomboyish things. “I think that should do. She lacks the face for false lashes. This is perfect.”

“This didn’t take long at all. I suppose having three mares working on it makes all the difference.” Lime added a thin line of light lipstick along Scootaloo’s lips. “I wish I had so much care and attention when I was a filly. Not that it would have changed much but being pampered is a great delight.”

“So it be… and, my Dames, the filly… hath been made artificial.” Princess Luna, for it really could be no other, stood back from Scootaloo, who was looking at herself in the mirror. “Shall we to her mane or tire her in fitting raiment afore we begin to tend her mane?”

“Oh mane… how am I supposed to do all my tricks like this? Maybe if there was more I could go back to that glam rock thing I had at the talent show. Can you slap on some more? And throw in some lightning bolts. And flames. And a big falcon! Named Baron von Awesome!”

“Tush. Now she doth not appear as a costermonger she would ask we make her as a harlequine. Cool thy blood, youngling. We make thee not a minstrel but a troubadour. And it become thee, Dames, we coiffure her anon, that she be properly arrayed and her mane fit it when it is tended.”

“A most excellent notion, your majesty. Now I favor the more semi-modern dress. Clean lines, proper ostentation, a touch of showiness that accents the understatement in the face.” Fleur began to flip through the dresses, noting the selection that seemed to have been drawn at random from shops and storage.

“I think that, in some sense, her own wishes ought to be considered. Ah, to a degree. Now, I never dress in this fashion myself, but I do tend to enjoy it when I see it. The Nightmare-Filly style, as perfected by the Neighponese. Clothing from a period a few hundred years after your majesty’s… absence, combined with a certain darkness and intimidatingly-sharp style, perhaps with odd touches like bat and spider motifs.” Lime flipped through dresses in black, dark purple and deep red, with plenty of velvet, lace, crepe, organdy, and various other diaphanous materials.

“A fair choice, Dame Lime, and do I well favor those things of a nocturnal or crepuscular bent. However, I know mine own time and I know mine own tastes. The filly shall be arrayed in brocaded satin and silk, metal-firmed corsets and ruffled collars. Have we sufficient layers? There be subtle variation that doth let many layers be worn.” Luna examined a filly-sized corset and a ruffled collar of rather great size.

“Oh hay, no wonder ponies are always worried about foalnapping! This is a nightmare.” Scootaloo looked miserably at the three cloaked mares flipping through dresses and examining the various combinations of accessories and styles. A mare like Rarity or… Sweetie… might find the whole prospect exciting. But it was all just more mareish mush as far as the young filly was concerned.

“Say now… I’m no glamour mare and I’m certainly not born into style but… couldn’t we combine some of the elements together? Not mix and match them but take elements from one and apply it to another so we get them fully integrated. That’s one of the strengths of Nightmare-Filly, the elements can be added to other styles.” Lime held up a black lace collar that had been ruffled in the style of the archaic attire.

“What a brilliant notion! You majesty, can you alter colors and styles as needed?”

“But of course! This be a trifle to one as I. Direct this power, my Dames, let us aid this filly and give her heart’s desire.”

What proceeded then was a cheerful unification, various dresses of the three styles changed in color and shape, adjusted and tweaked, together with accessories like puffed shoulders, bat pendants and jewelry-bedecked tiaras. It actually started to get boring, with Scootaloo idly tapping on the floor and buzzing her wings to try and get some lift. “Is this what happens in a foalnapping? Boredom and makeovers? Or was this kind of a dare at a slumber party or from a sorority?”

The three mares looked between one another, not saying anything for a long while. “The… nature of our convocation be occult; fully sub rosa. Suffice to know we are in thy camp, to create thy opportunities to perfectly woo thy filly love.”

“W-woo!? I remember that word from all those mushy romantic comedies Rarity likes to watch and read and listen to on the radio! That means to do dumb stuff like write poems and play music and dance like an idiot. I’m not going to do that.”

“Aye, art thou not to gambol and croon. Shalt thou act as a proper gentlefilly. To gain thy place with this fine filly, there be rules.”

“But that’s not important. Looks count for a lot. After that, well, things ought to be smoother. Presumably.” Lime looked at a very bright blue corselet, and considered it carefully. “Your majesty, Dame Fleur… I think I’ve had a notion.”

Constables had been called in immediately after Cheerilee had raised the alarm. They had noted the leavings of the scene but merely cordoned them off to wait for more information. Scootaloo’s parents had been called in immediately, the Pegasus couple talking with a constable well away from the scene to reduce the possibility of breaking down emotionally.

The six Elements of Harmony were at the scene, to provide moral support to the family and, more importantly, support for Sweetie Belle and Applebloom, who were holding onto each other for comfort. Rainbow Dash was trying to comfort the parents with talk of Scootaloo’s strength and awesomeness, to assure them Scootaloo would escape.

With a bright flash of light all attention was focused on the spot from which Scootaloo had vanished. When the light faded and eyes could see Scootaloo was revealed, but in a far different form from the one she had when she had vanished. Her face was made-up, in a perfect, fashionable and subtle form that made Rarity gasp from pure appreciation. Her visible parts were perfectly cleaned, which was notable on the filly. Her mane had been laid low into a kind of pageboy cut, with the bangs slanted and pointed in one direction over one eye, and a dark purple streaking added as highlight. The real shock was on her body. She wore a fairly ordinary and contemporary dress cut down to the floor with long, straight sleeves, in an attractive shade of dark purple. Going up and around behind her head was kind of an extended collar in purple lace in a spider-web-like pattern that grew lighter as it went up. At her throat was a bat-shaped clasp inset with blood red jewels. Cinched around her midsection was a blue-black corset, laced lightly with deep burgundy strings, made of brocaded silk featuring an almost-unnoticeable motif that resembled Princess Luna‘s new stained glass window.

At first there was nothing more than shocked staring, for many reasons. By and large there was merely surprise over the sudden appearance of the filly that had been presumed spirited away to never be seen again. Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applebloom and Sweetie Belle, additionally, were shocked and astounded by the appearance Scootaloo presented. After the shock had worn off there was a rush of ponies towards the scene, primarily constables, but also Scootaloo’s parents and Rainbow Dash, creating a smashing wall of words and attempts at demanding her attention.

Sweetie Belle looked on at the confused Pegasus filly with complete shock. It was… a magical transformation. She was like something out of one of Rarity’s fashion magazines, or out of those thick books she imported from Neighpon. Everything was perfect and she looked amazing. The filly looked aside at her sister and quietly asked, “Rarity, do you have a hoofkerchief?”

“What was that? Hoofker..? Oh yes, of course. You know I never go anywhere without a few, dear. You never can tell when they will be needed. Here you are. For what do you need it?” Rarity absently handed over an embroidered satin square of cloth.

Sweetie didn’t respond, she just dashed through the gathered throng to Scootaloo, whose eyes seemed to lock in on hers like magic. “S-sweetie! Hey ther… I mean… Hello there, uhh… milady. It is a great… umm, honor to have you come to me. What to honor owe… to what do I owe this honor?” Scootaloo smiled, with a nervous flush, almost unnoticed behind her paint and powder.

Sweetie said nothing, at first, just bringing the cloth up to wipe at Scootaloo’s face. Even dry, the cloth wiped away the makeup well enough, smearing it a bit but taking more of it away than remain smudged on the confused face. “Come on, Scoots… that’s not you. You hate this kinda stuff.”

“Heh, yea, I really do. I mean, I LOVE the Nightmare stuff, but it’s too… mareish for me. But I thought you’d like it. It’s why I didn’t just tear it off. It’s like all that stuff in Rarity’s fashion magazines. And her big comic books.”

Sweetie actually blushed, looking shyly at the ground. “You… you did all this for… me?” Her characteristic voice crack made the question all the more touching and added a dash of extra sweetness.

“Uhhh, well… it was kinda out of my hooves. But even if it embarrassed me, I did it all for you. I figured it would be nice, and that you’d be… closer to me.” Scootaloo blushed deeper, the coloring finally noticeable under the wiped-away and smeared makeup.

“Scootaloo… you didn’t need that. I liked your old style. You were so cool and awesome when you were zipping around on your scooter doing all kinds of tricks. So great…”

There was a sudden flash of light once more, and a slight shove of magical waves that pushed on all the grown ponies. The cloaked figures were once again around Scootaloo, and the green one spoke up, “Terribly sorry, we made a horrible mistake. We’ll just be a moment.” With another flash, they were gone.

“Oh woe and waning! We did make fools of ourselves with a mistake so basic we may well wear cornuthaums as chastisement for our folly.” Luna paced up and down the chamber, shaking her head sadly.

“This isn’t a problem. At all. We know better this time. The filly in question did not desire a mirror image of herself. She wanted a counterpart. As she is a very mareish filly, she desired a greatly coltish filly of her own, to provide a proper contrast. We made only a small mistake. We can fix this.” Fleur was already shuffling through the clothes, finding, at last, colt clothes.

“I am so sorry about this matter. It was just a little goof on our part.” Lime was quickly but carefully stripping Scootaloo from her hybrid clothes, casually throwing them aside then going after her face with a damp cloth.

“Now what are you going to do to me? And is it going to take too long? I’m really not scared of you anymore, but I’m getting REALLY bored and annoyed and I’d like to get back to Swee- Ponyville. Ponyville.” Scootaloo sulked by a window, looking out over the terraces of Canterlot. It was a nice view, to be sure. She might have appreciated it more if she hadn’t been bored out of her mind and thinking about Sweetie wiping at her face.

“Be patient, little one. Hast thou not conception of the labour we take to thy benefit?” Luna rubbed Scootaloo on the head, with a bit of condescension in the action. “Dame Lime, we bow to thy experience. The tiring of young lords and rural colts be not suited to the taste of these modern fillies.”

“Indeed, her majesty speaks the truth. I know how to dress young colts. In little suits and ties and tuxedos. But you, oh you have lived in the lower terraces and seen the more rough-and-tumble colts. I’d imagine you’ve seen many magazine spreads on the subjects, as well as television and movie depictions. Your experience is to be the driving force.” Fleur bowed grandly and then began to take up various articles of clothing in her magical grip.

“Oh my. No pressure, right?” Lime chuckled nervously and tugged at the neck of her cloak. “My word, your majesty. You certainly got a good selection. How much did all of this cost?”

“Tush tush, my Dame. ‘Twas not a purchase ‘pon the royal credit. ’Twas a consignment purchase. A wickedly perfect example of politic. I did promise sale of these articles, or return of same; and I shall sell these items to boutiques and private parties as genuine raiment of the palace. I do believe the negotiated price shall be easily surpassed.”

“Ha! And that is why you lead our number, your majesty.” Fleur nodded her head and began bringing the clothing over to Lime. “Are any of these suitable to your purposes?”

Lime looked the clothing over with a slight tilt of her head, shuffling through the selections handed over to her. “Oh yes yes. This should suit us well, if we can have your majesty’s assistance in altering the coloration and some of the style. Isn’t this a bit ironic? We went away from the coltish feeling and even discounted the desire to become a glam-rocker in face paint and shocking mane. Now, we are in no way going to give that a go. But we’re giving her a style that says, in no uncertain terms, ‘I’m a tomcolt, you’d better accept it.’ That should appeal to the need for a counterpart.”

“It shall be so. Fear not, youngling. We shall return thee to thy beloved Sweetie Belle… oh! I do mean, Ponyville.” Luna laughed musically, then turned her attention to the clothing.

The constables on the scene at Ponyville had finally gotten around to looking at the pouch and the parchment. The pouch, they found, was bulging with bits, a significant amount of them. The parchment was almost a museum piece, as far as the content was concerned. The script within was formal and flowing, written in both an archaic hoof and dialect, the black ink artfully emphasized with little touches of gold. ‘Gentlefillies and Gentlecolts, Guardians of this Filly or the Parents thereof, be not affrighted, thy charge hath not been taken in malice. In the grand and ancient tradition, a Royal Matter hath been declared that doth require the presence of this Filly. As the Tradition demands, the Inconvenience Fee hath been delivered; failure to transmit this currency unto the Parents shall be punished by applicable Royal Law.’ At the bottom was the generic, but magically non-forgeable, seal of the Equestrian Diarchy, giving the parchment the force of royal law.

The constables, with no other options, took the bulging bag of money to Scootaloo’s parents, the confused pegasi accepting it with some disbelief, but more confusion. The message was vague. And having seen the result of the initial foalnapping, almost ludicrous. A sudden makeover was a royal matter?

Another flash washed over the scene, to reveal Scootaloo yet again. This time she seemed herself but… more so. Her mane was teased out and slightly spiked, looking intentionally messy. Her attire was far from ordinary, despite seeming to suit her. She was wearing badly-distressed nearly-white blue jeans, a tattered t-shirt from a band popular around twenty years before, and over that a heavy flannel jacket. Though the makeup was gone, there was a slight touch of liner, to give her slightly-sunken-looking eyes.

This time, none of the constables dashed in, nor did Scootaloo’s parents. Sweetie Belle was the only one that trotted up to the other filly, looking her over. “’Sup, Sweetie? You like the new look? I’m totally dangerous and bad news. I’m a total badflank, into action and thrashing in pits with loud music and am just the right kinda tomcolt to look good next to you, pretty filly.” Her spiel over, Scootaloo gave an awkward wink and a click of her tongue.

Sweetie shook her head, half in disapproval and half in frustration. “Scootaloo…”

“No, huh? Come on, tell me what would work. I don’t wanna go in for another makeover. And if you don’t get specific I’m guessing they can do it all day.”

Sweetie came in close to Scootaloo and slowly slipped off her flannel jacket, dropping it to the ground. “It’s not this.” The shirt came off next, Sweetie using it to wipe the liner from Scootaloo’s eyes. It’s not anything. I don’t like a style. I just… I…”

“Yea? Come on, tell me…” Scootaloo took off the jeans herself, then rubbed a foreleg over her head to replace her spiked style with her normal mane style.

“I just like you.” Sweetie blushed deeply, turning her head away slightly. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, I know you liked me, you said you loved me. But you just… you kept saying things about boring sweetness and things being too mareish like it was bad.”

“That’s just how I am, Sweetie! You know I think mushy stuff is boring. I like speed and action, like Rainbow Dash does. But you know… even Rainbow Dash slowed down and got engaged. I mean, she got engaged to somepony that was cool and awesome enough for her. Applejack was the only one that could have been good enough for her. And…”

“Yes?”

“You’re… you’re the only one cool enough for me. You’re so cute and pretty, but you can sing really, really well, and you’re strong enough to stand up to your sister and do really neat stuff in an obstacle course. Yea, you’re really mareish. But that just makes you so much cooler when you show off your AWESOME side. I should tell you I love you more often, and make sure you know it. That way… you’re happy. And I don’t get swooped up to get a makeover.”

Sweetie Belle trotted in and rubbed her head against Scootaloo’s neck, finishing with a kiss on her throat. “As long as I know for sure.”

Scootaloo smiled, standing up proudly and throwing her chest out. “For sure, I love you.”

Down a semi-dark alley, enhanced with artificial night, three hooded figures tilted their heads and listened to an amplified version of the romantic admission. “Dames, this day may we claim victory! By our divers faults did we expose the beauteous truth and bring love!”

“Indeed, indeed, majesty! I was quite worried when even our talented Dame Lime could not draw out love. But over all, giving something to act against worked as well. A success of which we may all be proud.”

“Time for beer and skittles. That is correct, is it not, your majesty?” Lime looked across at Luna with a bight smile and giggle.

“Surely no, Dame Lime! Fine ladies as we drink not beer. These modern beers be as unmentionable waters! Nay… ladies as we imbibe fine wine, and modest amounts of salt. But mayhap we may find space for skittles, and may also bring darts, and we would be remiss to have not billiards. Verily, it doth feel much as we be equipping a tavern, but, and we have not strong drink or strong mineral, we have our tea and sweetmeats. Cakes and ale to those as we. And music! We must share music once more as…” Luna suddenly stopped, her face falling from a hopeful smile to a worried look, her head looking all around for something.

“Your majesty? What is the matter? Do you…” Lime dropped her question as she finally managed to feel what Luna had. Her magical sensitivity was nowhere near as great as the princess’, so it took her longer to feel the powerful magical field surrounding them. Some kind of muffling barrier and a cloaking field as well. The strength of it could only have come from one pony.

“Sister and retinue!” A grand voice thundered out from the sky, practically shaking the foundations of the alley.

“My Dames… we may, verily, be firked.” Luna looked up to see her sister hovering over the alley, eyes and body glowing.

“All of you, back to the palace. Immediately.” The voice was hard, lacking the common mirth and warmth of Celestia’s tone.

“Oh yes, your majesty…” Lime spoke softly, looking up to the angry sun princess. “I believe you are correct. Well and truly firked.”

“What in the name of all that is good did you possibly think you were doing? How could you have thought that you were right in that?” At the place, all three were in the throne room before Celestia. Luna had her hood thrown back, while the other two were allowed to keep their hoods up.

“But… but, my sister! We did gain remittance by manner of the Inconvenience fee! And we did leave a note!” Luna adopted a soft whine, playing up her status as little sister.

“A… a note? The inconvenience fee? You think that you can snatch a foal, while wearing dark cloaks and saying nothing if you just drop an amount based on a thousand year old tradition?” Celestia was unaffected by the moon eyes and pouting, but the absurdity struck her solidly.

“Did we leave too little currency? Pah! I should have more carefully weighed the payment. My maid, what be the current amount of the Inconvenience Fee that must needs be paid when taking foals for royal matters? I did not think the labour of foals had increased as much in value in these ten centuries.” Luna turned to Lime with a worried expression.

“No, your majesty, not at all. I calculated at the most generous standard hourly wage, using the current allowed maximum daily hours of work for an adult pony. It is more than could potentially be lost by not having her there working, exactly as was done in the classical time. I was certain it would be appropriate and applicable, given that the law still exists.” Lime tapped her chin and nodded in certitude after rattling off her calculations.

Celestia looked even more confused. “’Appropriate and applicable’? ‘given that the law still exists’? Oh Lime Sherbert… really? I know my sister is one of the rulers but you don’t have to go along with every bit of silliness she can concoct.” After shaking her head she turned to Luna. “And you… Yes, at the time it made sense. Parents needed foals to work, and work hard, just to keep up with things. And if called to a royal matter of legitimate definition, it was only proper to give them the monetary equivalent of the foal’s full day of labor. But… we did it to take foals to be educated. And over time, as education became more available, and then compulsory, the need became less and less. I just never rescinded the applicable statue because… I honestly forgot it even existed. Everypony forgot it existed.” She looked to Luna and coughed softly. “Everypony who had not kept it in mind forgot it existed.”

Luna sighed and hung her head. “Forsooth, you speak wise, my sister. ‘Twas unwise that I should make of all archaic things a rebirth. I shall accept full measure of castigation for my part in this debacle. Release mine innocent cohorts. Place all culpability upon mine head.”

Celestia looked down sternly and seriously on Luna, as Fleur and Lime stepped in closer, as silent support. The great sun princess bent her head down to touch her horn to her sister’s, causing a spark of magical power to jump between them, making Luna shiver. Celestia then smiled and slowly trotted back to her throne. “Silly sister… I know you were TRYING to do good. As soon as I got the message from Twilight Sparkle I checked on my personal papers and saw that SOMEPONY had been snooping through them.”

“Oh sister… I only intended to aide thee in thy labours as mine attempt at a sisterhood day did fail. But… we did a boon until the youngling.” Luna lifted her head, still looking suitably chastised.

“Yes, I know. I’ll calm the parents and citizens of Ponyville, and explain that it was a large, elaborate attempt at helping out that went out of control, without mentioning names. I won’t even look too deeply into any other activities, including rumors about… a bar brawl? Please, do not explain. Just… restrict yourself to three tavern-clearing riots a year.” Celestia grinned and gave a wink.

Luna shuffled guiltily on her hooves, matched by her companions. “A-aye, sister. We shall be more proper in future. May we be on our way now?”

“Have fun.” Celestia considered. “Within reason!”

“Indeed, my sister, indeed.” Luna bowed deeply, mirrored by the cloaked mares at her flanks. All three then slowly, regally trotted out of the throne room. At the door, thinking herself sufficiently away from Celestia, she danced a short jig and cheered. “Huzzah! We have ‘scaped serious censure! To the wine, salt and sweetmeats!”

Celestia smiled to herself and shook her head. Her sister… She took up a quill in her magical grip and started to write out a message to Ponyville’s legal authorities. Then stopped with a slight grumble. “And now I want some wine, salt and snacks…”

My Fair Fair

Dames

Of The
Tea Table

By Gabriel LaVedier

My Fair Fair

“Your majesty?” Lime Sherbert, her Dames of the Tea Table hooded robe on, with the hood pulled back, looked over at Princess Luna, who was similarly robed but not hooded.

“Yes my maid? What doth seem to trouble thee so?” Luna looked aside to the lime-green maid, a touch of concern on her features.

“I wonder, just a bit, if we’ve lost a touch of focus, vis-à-vis, our secret and wonderful organization.”

“How now? In what manner dost thou mean thy words?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. Something indefinable. Probably nothing.” She turned away from the princess and back towards the dartboard. With a squint and a few motions of her horn she flung a dart that hit just off-center.

“Excellent shot! But I do believe that I am still ahead.” Fleur, also with her hood back, took up a dart and likewise flung it after some looking through one eye. Her own dart was off-center, but on the other side of the center.

“That’s no trouble. We may be in a dead heat here but I was the one that seriously took the prize in bowling! Well, behind her majesty, of course.” Lime giggled softly and took up another dart.

The traditional meeting room of the Dames of the Tea Table had been changed, somewhat. It had been expanded with the removal of a wall and the co-option of the next room over with some further movement of the other walls of the room. Using the new length of the room, a bowling lane had been added, complete with thaumatomechanical pinsetter and ball return. On the other side near the corner, with space around it, was a billiard table and a rack with three pool cues. In another corner was a jukebox, which was pouring out a smooth stream of expertly-played trumpet music. A dartboard was occupying a wall, with a blackboard beside it to keep score. Remaining from the times before was the central table set with tea and sweets, as well as the door that led to the kitchenette, which had been modernized and stocked more fully, with a refrigerator and small wine rack. Luna looked around and tapped on her chin. “Mayhap thou doth speak well. But let that pass. What harm be there in our leisure?”

“Not a drop of harm comes of our appreciation of good leisure time. We ALL need it, after all. It has certainly done is endless mounds of good.” Fleur tossed a dart, landing it down and to the left. “Remember back so very long ago? I was nothing but a sorrowful, simpering trophy of the upper class, endlessly pining for a stallion that was just passionate enough but not giving me what I needed. And now, I have nearly everything I require, all thanks to the two of you.”

“Now… I was going to be smart and make a comment asking if you really needed bar brawls, jousting and foalnapping in your life but… I’ll say it outright, this has been wonderful for me as well! I still do my work, and then get a chance to relax with ponies I can really trust and whose company I can greatly enjoy and who I feel really understand me.” Lime threw her dart without much planning or preparation, the object impacting too high.

“Aye! Thy fellow workers wert treating thee with denigration because of thy new status. Pah! If they have not respect for thee thou hast no need of they! We art thy friends. Loyal, true, and glad of thy dear company. Fear not, my maid. As thou art thus, thou art also, my friend.” Luna, deciding on a whim, took up a dart in her grip and flung it with a great energy, sinking it deep into the center target on the board. “Triumph!”

“As ever, your majesty, you are quite on the mark.” Lime chuckled softly and had a seat at the table, preparing a cup of tea for herself. “This has been a fair distraction all around, I would say. And we‘ve still got much to do. I think we’ve discovered the secret appeal behind the new trend of the Stallion Cave.”

“Hold! Hold! I am aware of this reference… yes… a graphical novel of some stripe, correct? Dark attire and the fighting of crime.” Luna tapped her hoof on the table as she wracked her brain for details.

“An excellent guess, your majesty! But that is the Mare Cave, inspired by the antics of the element-bearers as the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. Fictionalized accounts always go over well.” Lime presented Luna with a cup of tea prepared to her precise tastes. “No, the Stallion Cave is a trend among stallions who feel very dissatisfied with local entertainment and desire a place to be with their male friends. They dedicate a room or small structure to the things which stallions enjoy such as beer, electronic games and cards. Of course, as mares may enjoy such things as well, the point mostly seems to be fellowship among their gender, a very noble endeavor.”

“My partner doth prefer weak cider as to keep his mind sharp but doth profess a great love of cards. I do almost envy the lady Fortuna who doth ensorcell him ‘pon her golden wheel. Tit of tenpence. Sixpenny damnation. Accursed trollop.”

Fleur spluttered softly into her cup of tea, eyes wide at Luna’s strong words. “M-majesty! My word, even speaking of a fictional being… such language! It is quite a deal stronger than your normal declarations.”

Luna gave a soft laugh and placidly sipped at her teacup. “Worry thyself not, Dame Fleur. ‘Tis an old, old sport of words. Dame Fortuna showeth not partiality for any being, neither pony nor griffin nor zebra nor buffalo nor Diamond Dog; neither mare nor stallion not any other name of sex. She hath in her favor for all in her wheel’s time, and thus ‘twas oft said her lady Fortuna be all the world’s harlot.” Her concluding laugh rang out with bright clarity and almost overpowered the jukebox.

Fleur nodded a bit, wincing at the last word but giving a sip of tea and a soft laugh. “Most clever, majesty! I must confess, even with all the learning I have, especially of a classical era, I had not heard such a thing.”

Luna gave a small nod and levitated over a thick piece of chocolate cheesecake, taking a substantial bite and swallowing before responding, “‘Twas a mere twice-told tale in mine own time. These modern ages see so few of such things. Oh these peers and pretenders do put on great airs and graces and mime comprehension, filling their bellies with books while their minds lie blasted and bare. Thou hast great learning, Dame Fleur, and thou shalt know more than thy peers and the peers, if only thou wilt listen and comprehend.” A thought suddenly struck Luna, and she stroked her chin thoughtfully while she chewed more cheesecake. “To speak of grace… might we, the governance, offer thee grace-and-favor? ‘Twould doubtless make thy compatriots most vexed and green.”

Fleur nibbled with dainty bites at a cookie and considered. “No, your majesty. As grand as it might feel, I do so love the apartment I have. To pay for something, even with money from a trust, makes me feel more grown and responsible. I am an adult, independent and mature. A proper mare who may manage her affairs as she sees fit.” She cleared her throat and quickly added, “I mean, my business… no, my comings and… there is no graceful exit from this, is there your majesty?”

“None whatsoever. But I let that pass, for thou art not the sort to require the retinue of foregoers and escorts most mares of thy station would claim. Thou hast heart but for one stallion, a wonderment in thy sphere. I do admire thy great feeling.”

“Ahh, your majesty, how I do love Fancy Pants.” Fleur took on a moony look and nibbled away at her cookie, with some sips of her tea. “Love… I do not wish to speak out of turn, as it were but… you spoke of your partner. I don’t want any details, they are none of my concern. But I must know… is it all passion as I seem to get from Fancy Pants or is it… more?”

“I shall tell thee, for I trust thee. I need hide only name, for the sake of his worry his occupation may shame me somewise. Aye. Forsooth, he doth love me. And truly, truly do I love him…”

“Every chance she gets.” Lime’s quick cut-in line was delivered with a casual familiarity, though a smile rested on her tea-sipping lips.

“Ah! Dame Sauce! Such cheek!” Luna’s teacup lifted and a smile beamed across at the green mare. “Well spoken! Timely and sharp as a duelist’s blade.”

“The moment was feeling a little too “precious”, as they say. I have nothing against lovers and pining but I felt like taking the air out of that before it got to the point of sighs and sonnets. That seems a bit improper given my romantic status, I know but I think even you two would agree that it’s not good to just sulk about and bemoan things.”

“She doth speak good sooth, Dame Fleur. The snare of peaking and pining be ever-present while we be without they whom we desire. We must have more vigilance lest we fall into the slough useless misery. We must think on happier things and be worthy of these wondrous appointments!”

“One would think it would be easy to keep ourselves distracted. Our favorite music from the jukebox, many games to play, good food, good libations, and company nonpareil!” As soon as Fleur had said it, a small sprinkle of nonpareils fell upon her cookie, with an accompanying smile from Luna. “Thank you, Majesty. My comment stands. Who could ask for anything more, as the musical says?”

“We shouldn’t be TOO insular. It may be great fun here but, at the very least, it would be suspicious if we just vanished for very, very long periods of time. Somepony might figure something out. I know there’s a bit of a training binge going on, so my hubby, bring a Destrier in the palace guard, is very busy, and way too tired to do anything in the evening, and as far as anypony can know, her majesty is not expecting any kind of visitation. But you still have a chance at external entertainment. Fancy Pants can take you out to some kind of exciting party, or at least a party that involves other ponies.”

Fleur engulfed her entire cookie and chewed upon it sullenly, the usual indication that something was upsetting her. After a few sips of tea she shook her head sadly. “No, no… much like you two, I am a lone hen. Fancy Pants was called out of town for some reason or another. He will be unavailable for my personal… usage, if I may borrow from your majesty’s entendres. Thus, we are all on our own.”

“Dame Fleur... be thee not chapfallen. Thou art here with thy nearest that be not of thy blood! Ah wellaway! Mayhap we may find further means to divert the mind. Hast ye any notion that we may forget all save the glee of frivolity and sport?”

“Wait a moment, wait... I remember...” Lime tapped the table rapidly, rubbing her head with her free hoof. “I said something... yes! A fair distraction. A distracting fair! I saw some notice out in town, though not in the top terrace, about the grand, annual Ponyville County Fair. It's going on right now, and will be there for a while. We could go there and have a nice, long day of it! County Fairs, especially big ones like Ponyville's, are incredibly fun and distracting!”

“AYE!” Luna blasted her fellows with a wave of the Royal Canterlot voice. “Aye thou dost speak well and in good sooth, Dame Lime! Well do I recall in times afore we did have such harvest fairs and frost fairs and the grand Bartlemare Fair, all stuff'd with cakes and ale and puppet plays and vendors of sweetmeats and all manner of wondrous things. A spectacle of grand proportion! Do these modern fairs compare in any light?”

Lime looked to Luna, slicking her mane back into position and giving a slight laugh. “You majesty...” She raised her cup and grinned more broadly. “You will be astounded by just how much it is like what you remember. And so much more. We need to get there early, very early, to beat the crowds or at least take advantage of everything we can while it's going on. And then we can enjoy one of the live bands or comedians or whoever happens to be on the big stage.”

“Dame Fleur, canst thou be prepared for travel to Ponyville quite early in the morn? We stay not longer than be necessary and shall not dally longer than one day.”

“I can be anywhere you need me to be. Will we be taking a royal coach? I would imagine that we could get all the best stuff and the full VIP treatment. Oh! Not that it matters that much, but why not take advantage of what opportunities we may have?” Fleur smiled and fanned herself. She was not normally so greedy but the thought came unbidden.

“Nay. Thou beest correct that great honours and graces be laid at mine hooves should I deign to arrive. But, my maid be lost in such official honour, and thee... shalt thee be ignored and cast aside saving in the eyes of fortune-seekers and other lickspittle pickthanks. We would be rent asunder. Nay, my Dames. Let us be one. Shall I be Cynthia once more and ye shall be thine own selves. Surely we may pass unmolested.”

“Brilliant. This is going be a fantastic little distraction. I think we all need it, with our emotional turmoil, strange life situations and workaday world.” Lime looked around at her surroundings, mostly seeing the pool table as Puce's loud, quality singing filled the air. “My comment stands, environment notwithstanding. Your majesty, I will proceed to draw on your funds, get some of my own and arrange direct and speedy transport.”

“Thou hast little need to concern thyself with transport. Recall our... mistaken endeavour concerning the young filly. Easily may we reach Ponyville or lands in the vicinity and proceed to the fair incognito, as required.”

“Right. In that case, I will go to the palace accounting office and take out bits from the treasury for miscellaneous activities and toilet articles. That's generally the line item I put down when taking out money for these activities. I'm certain your sister knows what it means. But that accountant gives me the funniest looks. And sometimes it's not funny at all. I think that's when he tries to imagine how many bath crystals, bottles of bubble bath and scrub brushes we can buy. I'm not saying fire him, I'm saying send him to the sexual harassment classes.”

“In times of old were the intemperate flames of lust chastised and corrected with the application of judicious firing.”

Fleur nodded her head a bit and jumped into the conversation. “Does your majesty indicate that you used a careful policy of correction by firing the worst offenders and then seeing that the remaining understood the severity of the situation?”

“Oh aye, Dame Fleur. Those that held not their passions in check and did vex maid or stallion or any other wert taken, placed i'the body of a great culverin, protected from the flame, and fired into a great haystack.” Luna casually sipped her tea, suddenly extremely aware that both Fleur and Lime were looking at her with shocked incredulity. “How now? What doth trouble thy minds? We did never miss the haystack.”

The next day, barely after Luna had finished lowering the moon, and slightly after dawn, Fleur arrived at the palace, and was escorted to Luna's private bedchamber by Golden Stare and Rosy Cranberry, as per usual. At the room she found Lime helping Luna, in her 'Cynthia' disguise already, with a pink coat, fluffy powder blue ringlets and a dark crescent moon beside a shepherd's crook on her flanks. The supposed unicorn smiled at the new arrival, a broad-brimmed semi-floppy hat with colorful feathers placed on her head by a green magic aura. “Good morrow, Dame Fleur. I do apologize for my delay. But I wish a more modern appearance. Doth this chapeau suit the glamour which I present?”

“It suits your majesty's glamorous look, and the glamor on your body. I also brought a lovely hat.” Fleur lightly tapped her headgear, a simple pink pillbox hat with a white band around it. It matched her perfectly. Slung around her neck and hanging on her shoulder was a wide, pink purse that jangled lightly with her motions. “And of course, a classic purse.”

“Dame Lime, do bring the purse which may suit this tiring. And it be thy will, take any clothing thou may see fit for thyself, that thou may be as thou desirest.”

“Thank you very much, your majesty. There is one thing...” Lime vanished into Luna's voluminous closet and emerged again, holding up a tasteful bag that looked very like a snood with extra beading and some small feathers. It, too, jangled lightly with movement. On her head was a beret, in a purple shade resembling Luna's coloration. Unlike most days that was the only thing she wore, her maid uniform and cloth shoes nowhere to be found. “I know it is a cliché, given how the element of generosity made it a fad. But I still think it's lovely, and suits me.”

“It doth suit thee, Dame Lime. And what of a manner of carting thy bits about? Hast thou some purse that thou may take with thee?” Cynthia levitated the net purse over and slung it around her shoulder, admiring it in the mirror with a small nod, the feathers in her hat bobbing slightly.

“I have... something.” Lime lit her horn and brought out something from the closet. It was a semi-stiff and rather homely, blocky to a degree, slightly shiny, purple in color, marked with a crescent moon, and closed with buttons. It jangled softly as she slung it around and over her back. “Weatherized, sanitized, resinized, vulcanized Lunar guard corps ditty bag. It's my husband's old one, from before he was transferred to the Celestian corps.”

Cynthia nodded slowly. “So long as it be not marked with Vulcan's badge.” She laughed at her own witticism while the others regarded her oddly. “Forgive me... thy husband surely be secure in thy love. It doth suffice. Let any denigrate thy choice and shall I teach them the folly of harming my dear friends.”

“I'm sure the other ponies will understand. It has the look of a guard bag, so they will understand.” Lime adjusted the straps on the bag and gave her beret a quick adjustment in the mirror. “I think it looks just fine.”

Fleur came into the view of the mirror as well and lightly tapped her small hat. “Ah, we are quite a sight. A trio of lovely mares, out for a good time at the fair. We look the part to a T, as far as I know of fairs. But Ponyville, meaning no denigration to it, seems like such a small place. Is the county fair really as big and impressive as you make it sound?”

Lime gave a soft laugh and gave a wink into the mirror, so that it could be seen by both the other mares. “Don't you worry. It's once a year for a reason. It lasts for weeks, takes up a load of space and brings in the crowds because Ponyville is right next to Canterlot, so it absorbs a bit of glamor.”

“Goodness... I wonder how it is that I never heard of it or participated in it before. The upper echelons do so enjoy anything with glamor and large amounts of attention paid to them.” Fleur rubbed at her chin, looking quite thoughtful.

“Oh don't take that word too far. The glamor is in the proximity. The fair is very much a glorified country gathering and cheerful theme park. It's very much something for the middle class. The peerage and upper crust disdain such things. Same as it ever was, isn't that right, your majesty?”

“Oh aye and aye again! Dame Lime thou speakest more sooth than thou knowest. Such harvest festivals, maying, the grand Bartlemare fair... were they much attended by they low in standing or they with no title but some money. Professionals to cast off care and revel in revels! 'Twas always so the revels of the peers and others of that strata wert much unlike the “common rabble” as they so basely declared those not of their kind. Fie on they, and all their cursed sort! There be more greatness and joy in such festivals than in all their dull gatherings.”

“Well said, majesty! Let others say what they will, you are very well informed about how things are, simply knowing the true history of the nobility and wealthy!” Fleur clopped her hooves on the ground and nodded her graceful head. “Now, I do believe we are prepared. Dame Lime, shall we tell your uncles we will be departing?”

“Oh, let me. It's quick.” Lime dashed away from the mirror to the door. She stuck her head out of the door and called out, “Uncle Goldie! Uncle Rosy! We're going out for the day! See you later! Love you!” She trotted back into the room and back in front of the mirror. “There we are. Alright then, let's get going.”

Cynthia lit her horn, the magic flaring quickly and suddenly, filling the other two mares with the familiar feeling of magical transport. Before they vanished the disguised princess commented, “Very efficient. Thy uncles surely know well we will be gone. And all the palace besides.” Her laugh echoed around the chamber as they vanished.

The trio of mares popped into being on the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres, in the direction of the fair which Lime had told them about. They saw a large group of ponies standing in long lines, which crested the hill beyond which the fair was supposed to be located. Because of the focus and attention paid to the line, nopony noticed the arriving trio. Lime gave a lopsided smile and opened her ditty bag, pulling out a few bits. “No skipping this line, I'm afraid. Unlike the nightclubs, the fair has no preferences. Pretty as we might be, we have to hurry up and wait our turns. Oh, and don't mind the quick unicorn scan, it's a security precaution.”

The three mares chose a line and stood in it, quite obediently, though Cynthia grumbled darkly about the indignity and injustice of it all. Being a princess, she was quite unused to having to stand in such lines, and to bear the tedium with good cheer and typical pony aplomb. Her dark thoughts and light reconsideration of Fleur's plan of getting the VIP treatment were put to rest by the good conversation of Fleur and Lime, with consideration of what to do, or what the other ponies in the line resembled. There was a great assortment of them, mixed in with the odd griffin, Diamond Dog and donkey. There were even a few buffalo in the line, including a cafe au lait cow with a mustachioed earth pony.

“By the Sybil, Dame Lime. Thou wert a true prophet in naming the scope of this grand gathering. So many wights, of all forms and beings. The full spread and divers clans of this great Principality! I must see this great fair that may bring such concordance to the vast lot.” Cynthia looked around again, and then looked to her companions. “And thank thee, my Dames, for thy gentle urging to patience and leaving off my tum-headed fondness. It be of great import I come to be as any other pony. My speech, tho' sweet, doth mark me as alien here. Thus my demeanor must speak more than my voice.”

“Are you not going to use more modern speech? You had much success when we went out to that club. It left a great impression on those that heard you.” Fleur looked curiously at Cynthia.

“Nay.” Cynthia shook her head and smiled a touch. “'Twas not to be. I mastered not the strange tongue. 'Twas great sport, to be sure. But no matter. I shall speak but little and act much. And it aide me, I shall speak, but such be not mine intent.”

The three mares lapsed into a cheerful silence, still watching the crowd and silently noting the variety of beings in the other lines. Eventually their line crested the hill and they saw the fair spread out before them. It was tremendous. Beyond the gates controlling the inward flow of beings there were numerous structures, from tents to floated-in modular rooms, hauled-in modular rooms, and set-up things like paddocks and rides and games and such. It was beyond the capacity to view, and very broad as well.

The lines moved along at a steady clip, the gates staffed by competent and efficient unicorns. Each arriving being was quickly scanned by a unicorn for barred items, such as weapons, glass containers or illicit substances. None were found in the time the three mares were watching. Though the unicorns were skilled in scanning, they waved Cynthia through without even an inkling of the glamour she wore. Past the security check were gates, to accept payment and give out helpful items, such as maps, a directory, and daily schedule and the overall schedule for the fair. Once those had been given they were allowed in, to the fairgrounds themselves.

There was a moment of awe from Cynthia and Fleur. While there were grand and glorious things in Canterlot, there was nothing to compare to the great spread of the fair. It was designed to be so. The milling crowds, the colorful decorations, the sounds of music and crowds, occasional screams of excitement and whoops of encouragement from off in the distance. Even as big as it was the crowds were still significant. Milling families, groups of friends, single creatures, all taking it all in.

“How awful... artificial...” Cynthia commented with a soft tone, a few of the ponies around her looking at her with a quizzical or shocked expression.

Lime leaned in close to Cynthia and whispered in her ear. “Majesty... while we may be aware of your meaning by such archaic usages, these other ponies are not used to such and may look at them in entirely the wrong light.”

Cynthia nodded her head slowly and gave a wink. “Dread naught, Dame Lime. I know well how I may keep myself secure and little-regarded.” At that moment a trio of very young foals dashed past, weaving through Cynthia's legs, giggling and carelessly bumping into others as they dashed around. Watching over them was a very unconcerned mare just casually strolling along. “Fie! Cotquean! Mind thy insolent, impudent scapegraces, thou d-” Cynthia caught herself, a hoof over her lips, as all eyes flew to her.

There was silence, from the ones who had heard the commotion, and a certain stillness from the ones who were not pouring in from the entrance gates. Fleur broke the still silence with a well-practiced laugh and a wave of a hoof. “Well now, let us be off to see... oh! This large tent here! How fascinating, there seems to be much to look on.”

Cynthia laughed heartily, shaking her head a bit as the three mares trotted away towards the large tent. “Huzzah! As before have we 'scaped the eyes of questioning ponies! Good wit and fast thought, Dame Fleur. Now what have we in this place?”

The large tent was packed to the gills with lines on lines of booths, with a wide aisle down the center and a very wide break in the middle, seeming to divide the tent into two separate areas. In the front, where the three mares had entered, looked to be a display of flowers, on several tables. Dahlias, roses, pansies, posies and more. They were grouped on individual tables by species, tagged with large labels, giving the name of a pony, a location, as well as a prize, colored ribbon level or numbered one.

“Oh my word. How lovely. It looks like they plucked the best of the finest Canterlot gardens and laid them on display for everyone who came through.” Fleur stood before the dahlia table, looking at the blue ribbon winner, a huge, black dahlia, puffed and perfect.

“That's right, I forgot to mention that the fair is not just about games and rides and performances. It's also a place to display things like prizewinning flowers, produce, art, gems and such things. It's a rather nice place to waste a little time, admiring all the beautiful things.” Lime was admiring a brilliantly white tulip, looking at her companions at the same time.

“Beauteous. I thank thee once more, Dame Lime, for this. Truly it is lovely...” Cynthia was looking at a tremendous sunflower, contemplating it. She would take up gardening, but there were so few moonlight-fed flowers. To think, her mad plan was to bring eternal night. Ridiculous.

“And what is that on the other side of the divide?” Fleur pointed to the further side of the perpendicular aisle.

“Looks like big display spaces. Boats and hot tubs and other big luxury items.” Lime motioned with her head. “Come on. Let's have a look. Might be interesting.”

The three walked down the central aisle, past more flowers and produce. Something beside them made them perk up and turn to the side. They had been walking in single file, Cynthia, Lime and Fleur. When they turned they were looking at three separate tables of prizewinning produce. Cynthia was faced with many fine examples of large aubergines; Lime, by many a dark-bodied zucchini; and Fleur by a bounty of sumptuously-sized butternut squashes.

After a long moment of staring at the tagged vegetables, praised for their perfection, the trio of mares turned quickly and quick-walked away, giant blushes burning on their cheeks. “Let us speak not of this e'er again.” Cynthia didn't need to turn her head to see that the other two were rapidly and enthusiastically nodding their heads.

Beyond the display space for winning flowers and produce was a vast display space. As Lime had said, there were some very high-end things on that side of the huge tent. Several hot tub manufacturers tried to attract customers, as did a few makers of motor boats and personal watercraft. Aside from them, there were some sellers of artificial siding, weatherproofing varnish, and luxury items for use in private coaches and airships. “Your majesty... do you think we could take out another wall and put in a hot tub?” Lime practically drooled as she looked over one of the large, fully-featured hot tubs. “Massage jets, fits six, wide temperature range, even has a port for a music player. We could be soaking in giant speakers.”

“Dame Lime...” Cynthia looked at Lime with a dark, hard gaze. But after a moment she broke into a smile and shook her head. “We may be capable of such but 'tis not good practice. Too many eyes and half as many tongues art still too many. Fear not, we may freely indulge in health baths, will full attendance from trained mares.”

“Yes, your majesty, I understand well.” Lime looked fondly at the tub and walked slowly away.

“Cheer up. If you like, I have a hot tub in my bathroom. It's a small one, good for two, but if you wish to use it, you may. Bring your husband, if you wish. I know Fancy Pants and I have had great fun in it.” Fleur dropped a saucy wink to Lime and gave her a nudge.

“Ah! Goodness. Thanks for the offer. But I would hate to impose. Or cause some... awkward moments of cleaning the trap or similar. I wanted to get the big tub for the place because, well, it's a mare cave. A hot tub seemed like a good idea. But to think of it... it's a bit much, isn't it?”

“Just a touch, yes. I think I can quite enjoy what we have there. It's a good place to escape from the mundanity and idiocy of the typical nobility and upper crust. And as a bonus, I get to say that I am going to the palace, and your uncles dutifully report my presence. It amuses me to no end knowing the others are fuming. You can't BUY entertainment that pure.” Fleur grinned a little grin and trotted on, followed by Lime shaking her head with an amused chuckle.

Beyond the giant split-use tent, was a slightly smaller one, which had a lower ceiling. The content of the internal space was much more purely-commercial. Arranged in a ring along the edge of the tent, and in an inner ring were tables and booths, containing ponies and others, hawking various wares. It looked to run the full gamut, from discount clothing, to regional and racial art pieces, to soft goods to various products, both from television and just from the minds of the inventors.

The three mares passed along the sellers, admiring some of the artwork and some of the odd and interesting inventions. Fleur and Lime stopped to admire a collection of buffalo-made carving, which was advertised as genuine carvings from the hooves of Little Strongheart, while something entirely different caught Cynthia's eye.

The banner over the small booth was not overly different from the others. It proclaimed, “Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 1000.” The two stallions manning the booth were lanky unicorns in blue-and-white striped vests and straw hats, one of which had a fine mustache. The two shared an apple as a Cutie Mark, one with a wedge, the other with the rest of the apple, angled to the side. All around them were boxes marked with the same name, as well as the faces of the ponies at the booth. What caught Cynthia's attention was a smaller mark on the banner, the boxes, and even on the small wooden and metal device set on the table. It was the flat image in plain black lines, of an apple with a stem, a leaf, and a pointed-oval wedge cut out of it directly in the center. “Ye 'mongers, tell me, whereby didst thou find this mark thou hast 'pon thy possessions and thy wares?”

The two stallions leaned in to converse with one another, looking curiously on Cynthia and noting well her net purse and fancy hat. “Well ma'am I'll gladly tell you.” The moustachioed one spoke, taking off his hat with a swift, shallow bow. “We were going about our usual business, with the grander, larger version of the fine household device you see before you. We were accosted on the road by a pony we at first presumed to be some manner of highwaystallion or hoofpad. But no, he was just the average riverboat gambler who knew of us from... certain activities which we had undertaken not all that long ago.”

The stallion's brother took over for him, likewise taking off his hat and giving a bow. “He had some personal stake in the matter though we were never quite able to determine just what that was. There followed that night a great flurry of card playing and conversations. While we tried our best he was like some kind of card-playing spirit, a sign we ought to have hung it up. After trouncing us and winning our fabulous machine, he gave it back, with a suggestion.”

The mustachioed one took up the story again. “This stallion, magnanimous in victory, suggested we cease being traveling cider salesponies and instead, as the adage goes, teach a griffin to fish. He told us to modernize, conceptualize and, most importantly, miniaturize. From a great, vehicle-sized Cider press suitable to be named the six-thousand, we were induced to invent the portable version, the one-thousand. And from there we advertised on television and radio, and at charming and grand places such as this.”

His brother finished off, tapping his hoof against the mark on the device. “His only stipulation for free advice and the return of our property was that this mark be placed on all machines and our advertisements, and that a small, almost token amount of bits be set aside to be given to charitable causes he had listed. Beyond that, we've had no further dealings.”

Cynthia knew well enough the author of their newfound success and fortune. But she still asked, “And what percentage be that amount?”

“Seven percent.” Answered the plain-lipped stallion.

“And also we were to remind folk that for best results, they should use only authentic Apple Family cider apples, from Ponyville. We expect brisk sales at this fair, close as we are to the source.” The mustachioed stallion smiled winningly at Cynthia and placed his hoof on a box. “Now that you know the secret, ma'am, would you be interested in purchasing one of these fine devices?”

There was a smile on the mare's lips, as she levitated out her bit pouch. “Gentlecolts, 'twould be an honor most great to possess such a clever contrivance.”

Lime and Fleur turned back to Cynthia after purchasing small necklaces, which had been carved into the shapes of prairie animals. “These are lovely examples of buffalo art. No wonder they are spoken of so highly. Would you care to purchase one your..?” The question fell to the ground when Fleur noticed what Cynthia was up to.

The unicorn brothers were carefully securing a box to Cynthia's back, using fabric straps common for such a purpose. Cynthia smiled to her companions once the box had been secured and gave a motion of her head. “Come, my Dames. We shall proceed with our endeavors.”

Lime trotted up beside Cynthia and eyed the box. “Your majesty, what is thi-” She stopped midway through asking, on seeing the small mark that was stamped onto a face of the box. “Oh. So... what is the connection?”

“As ever, 'twas his quest to aide the struggling. 'Tis the raison de etre of mine earnest black knight, as well thou knowest.” Cynthia spoke sotto voce to Lime, then spoke louder for Fleur's benefit. “'Tis a fine machine. We may have cider, all the days we may desire it. And it please us, we need naught but Sweet Apple Acres apples to produce all we may desire.”

Fleur nodded and looked at the large picture of the machine. “Seems a simple electrothaumatic device. We can certainly work it with ease as we like. And I certainly would enjoy a glass of Sweet Apple Acres cider. I have been told it is a special treat.”

“Aye, aye. 'Tis so.” Cynthia then muttered darkly, strictly to herself, “And not a cracked groat be bound for the avaricious, gluttonous hoof of that accursed old crone.” In a louder voice she said, “I have, by consent of that family, come to possess a fine Sweet Apple Acres cider apple tree. We may harvest to our contentment.”

“Delicious.” The three walked out of the tent and into a tent of similar size, where in they were met with a dazzling display of minerals. “My word! What have we found here?” Fleur rushed forward to one of the display cases, followed by Cynthia and Lime.

Behind the glass were numerous examples of beautiful and rare crystals, from the depths of the earth. Brilliant colors in combinations seldom seen or in configurations of a rare type or in a unique shape were carefully noted by cards. Many of the names looked to be of a Diamond Dog sort, testifying to the skill of the newest citizens. “A marvel. 'Tis like as we were in some crystal cavern far beneath the ground, where all this earth's secret treasures do reside...”

“Looks like it's another competition. And there looks to be folks over there selling rocks and gems and such things. That might be interesting. We could get some lovely souvenirs. And have a look at... the... displays...” Lime turned her head to check on an exhibit, and stopped cold, her voice winding down into an awed silence.

In a large, glass case was a huge, fan-shaped crystal growth. Through some quirk of mana and the minerals far in the ground, the seven spikes of the crystal fan were composed of seven different minerals. And each one was in proper order to look like a crystalline rainbow, which terminated in a base composed of white alabaster, which faded into black alabaster beneath that. “By the moon and all the stars in the sphere of heaven...” Cynthia looked in at the display, her eyes wide and jaw slack.

“It... it is... oh my word, I have no words. This is completely beyond anything. Why is this not in a museum in Canterlot?”

“Will be in museum.” All of a sudden a Diamond Dog came around to the front of the display. More specifically, he was a Dig Dog, the bulkiest of of all the races of Diamond Dog. His bulldog face was pulled into a smile, not covered by the usual helmet that most Dig Dogs wore. His broad, muscular chest was covered, not in armor but by a well-tailored white dress shirt, and a tuxedo jacket. “Wanted to show at fair. Win prize and make ponies happy.”

“Oh my goodness. Are you the one who found this magnificent thing?” Fleur looked down at the identification card, finding the name “Basalt.” “Mister Basalt, is it?”

“Yes. Found beautiful gems. Showed to ponies in big city. They not kind to me. All very greedy. But not Platinum. She kind to me.”

“And how could I not be?” A glamorous pony stepped from around the same corner as Basalt had come. She was a unicorn, as long and leggy as Fleur and Cynthia. Her coat was a fine silvery-gray color, while her mane was a pale pink with silver threads running through it. On her flank was a large bracelet in the silvery color of pure platinum. She looked like a model, stepped right from the pages of a magazine. “He was so earnest, so honest and real. I've never met anyone like him.”

“Wait a moment, wait a moment...” Fleur stroked her chin with her fetlock, eyes squinting slightly at the mare. “I've worked with you! You're Platinum Shine! Porcelain Shine's daughter! I was at a party of hers not that long ago. She didn't mention anything about you. I thought she'd talk my ear off about your career.”

“Fleur de Lis! I thought that was you! Oh my goodness...” Platinum came forward to grab Fleur up in a tight hug. “I remember that! The Photo Finish shoot for the new Carousel Boutique line for the fuller-figured! It was a wonderful time.” She stepped back with a sheepish smile. “My mother has been... silent about me lately. Because of my fiance.” She moved some of her mane from her horn, more clearly showing off a band of gold with a large diamond set in it.

“Fian... oh Platinum congratulations!” Fleur hugged the other mare again, then smiled at the huge Diamond Dog. “You lucky dog. How did you manage that?”

“Platinum not judge me. See more than big, ugly dog. See hard-working dog. Strong dog. Honest dog.” Basalt wrapped a thick arm around Platinum, drawing her in for a huge hug.

“Only a truly beautiful soul could have ever found something as perfect as this. I saw him trying to find a place for this, with only a picture of it. He cut a fine figure, in his helmet and armor, wandering the upper terraces. As soon as I saw it, I could see the wonder of it. Other ponies didn't believe it existed or that it was smaller than shown or worthless, for the sake of getting it at a low price. I started to talk to him. Every minute of it was magical. I had never met anyone like him.” Platinum leaned in and nuzzled at Basalt's neck, kissing it lovingly. “He wanted to give it to me. Just... give it to me. He never even thought twice about it. He thought I deserved it. That was when I knew he was really the one.”

“Must be dream. Dog like me not supposed to have pony like her. Going to wake up alone.”

“Going to wake up with puppies.” Platinum corrected him, affecting his gruff tone and mode of speech with a smile on her face.

“Well, we must be going, Platinum. But... it was a pleasure to see you again.” Fleur nodded to the pair, who seemed to be getting lost in their own world.

“See you around, Fleur. I'll probably be doing an ad for maternity-wear next time.”

“A delight to meet thee, madame Shine. I shall have to meet thee again anon.” Cynthia bowed as the three strolled away. “A most generous, beautiful and honest soul. She shall be in royal thoughts for a long while, this is certain.”

“Yes it was lovely to see her again.” Fleur paused a beat and added, “I hate her so much.”

“Dame Fleur!” Lime goggled aside at the white unicorn.

“I don't mean it in a cruel way, I just... We're the same age, and, your majesty's friendship aside, of the same status. Same job, same circles of society. But she's getting married. Marrying up, I'd say, becoming that stout dog's wife. To borrow your majesty's subject matter, if she wasn't marrying him, he'd do well to plant a giant set of horns in some inbred nobleman's eyes.”

“Thou art not half wrong indeed, Dame Fleur.”

“But that just makes it worse. Why can't it be me?” Fleur hung her head, pace slowing a bit.

“C-come on, let's not get consumed with this again. That's what we're here to avoid. Let's have a look at some of these wares.” Lime nudged Fleur over to the sales area, to a wide array of natural gems, minerals and fossils, carefully labeled to identify type and location.

“Mmm. Such things be common on the palace grounds. Pretty trinkets, to be sure. But naught that may truly impress.” Cynthia said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

“Maybe. But there's some value to it still. Some of these things aren't consider impressive enough for the palace, like this lightning glass. Or, oh! These magnetites! Look at that. And they just naturally fall into these shapes. They look like the dice for that Catacombs and Creatures game.”

“I suppose a bit of retail therapy wouldn't hurt.” Fleur browsed among the raw minerals and looked in at some of the things in small boxes. She nearly decided to buy a beautiful piece of line-filled galena, but she instead saw a lovely geode. It was cut in half with an inner core of white, with blue crystals growing up from there. It... reminded her of Fancy Pants. From his white coat to his blue mane. Her bit pouch was out before she even opened her mouth. “I'll take that geode half there!”

“Good bit of retail therapy?” Outside of the gem tent, Lime looked to Fleur, who was trotting along with a smile on her snout.

“I think I can be very cheery about the rest of today, yes indeed.” Fleur turned her head and pointed to a collection of much smaller tents. “Hey, what are those over there?”

“Looks like... oddities tents.” Lime squinted and held a hoof over her eyes, catching sight of large, painted posters beside the tents.

“How now? What be this that thou hast said?”

“Oddities tents are for single attractions. Pay a bit or two and walk in to look at, for instance, a rutabaga in the shape of Celestia's head, or some kind of multi-headed creature in a jar, from a species not known for having multiple heads. They can be good for a quick, cheap bit of entertainment.”

“Then come, let us witness these “oddities” as thou hast said. Mayhaps they DO have a vegetable in the shape of sister's head. Or mayhaps a fruit resembling some other piece of anatomy.”

“Butternut squashes are gourds...” Fleur noted, seemingly apropos of nothing.

The first tent they encountered was an unassuming red and white striped thing with a large, crudely-painted poster beside the entrance. It depicted a truly gargantuan pony rearing up, standing over the tops of trees with his head in the clouds. Written on the poster was the improbably hyperbolic name, “Gigantotitanohumungogargantomegasuperultrahugeosaurus. The biggest pony in Equestria.” Sitting beside the tent's entrance behind a podium were two fillies, wearing striped coats, fake mustaches and straw hats. The costumes could not hide the identities of Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.

“Well now... this looks like a fascinating bit of oddity. How much must we pay, little ones?” Fleur looked down at the two, recognizing them instantly but trying not to betray that recognition.

“Ten bits to see our amazing oddity!” Scootaloo hit the podium and held out a hoof to the three.

“Scoots!” Sweetie Belle looked aside at Scootaloo, shocked and scandalized and... disappointment.

“I mean...” Scootaloo gave a sheepish and apologetic smile aside at Sweetie then turned back to the three ladies. “Two bits each. You won't be disappointed.”

“What a deal.” Lime stated, the first of the three to levitate bits out and onto the podium, others joining them.

“Please go in. And thank you.” Sweetie gathered up the bits into a jar, prompting Scootaloo and herself to squeal out, “Cutie Mark Crusaders Carnie Barkers YAY!” And then they kissed softly, mustaches swapping faces.

Chuckling softly at the display, the three ladies entered the dim tent, sunlight slanting in from holes in the roof. The air was heavy with humidity and the smell of hay and apples. Past an internal cloth wall that created a twist on the inside, and blocked vision from the door, was revealed the inhabitant of the tent. Huge red body, hay-blond mane and tail, a thick horse collar around his neck, and a Smarty-Pants doll cradled against his chest. “How now? Thou art... Big Macintosh. Art thou the great gargantua implied in the most misleading broadside 'pon the exterior?”

“Eeyup.” With that singular response, Big Macintosh changed his focus to the doll and seemed to largely ignore the trio of ladies.

“So... do you... juggle, or play an instrument or do math?” Lime turned her head to the side, brow perked curiously.

“Eenope. Can't juggle savin' fer apples when ah'm applebuckin', can't play nuthin' ceptin' fer a washboard, an' mah sister hates it when ah get inta them fancy mathematics.” He said it all without looking up, tickling Smarty-Pants under the chin.

The three mares shuffled around a little bit, looking around the tent, tapping their hooves, generally remaining silent. Cynthia looked at Big Macintosh curiously, watching him stroke the doll lovingly. There was a story there. And some explanation needed to be given.

Before anything could be asked there was a minor fracas at the front of the tent. “Hey! No freebies!” Scootaloo.

“Now y'all 're mah little sister's friends but you gitcher little flanks outta mah way right now!” That could only be Applejack, the element-bearer known to all the mares.

“Come on, we've gotta try and get our Cutie Marks!” The voice crack was pure Sweetie Belle. “Family discount? Half off. Just one bit. Come on Applejack. You were really nice at the Sisterhooves Social...”

There came a frustrated sigh from the farmpony, then the clattering of a bit on the podium and the rustle of the tent before Applejack appeared, looking quite upset. “Big Macintosh! Jes what in the hay do you think yer doin' lollygaggin' around in this here tent? There's a whole passle of customers, and Granny Smith and I are workin' our hooves to the bone ta keep up. Fer some reason them cider apples 're goin' like crazy.”

“Sorry, sis. But ah promised Sweetie an' Scoots ah'd help them with this, while Applebloom's off doin' her thing. Ah know why she ain't helpin' out.”

Applejack grunted and grumbled. She kicked her hoof and nodded her head a bit. “Well... y'all made a promise. An' ah know from loyalty. Hay, ah'm gonna be marryin' it. Jes... help us haul the things back tonight.”

“Ah always do. Thanks fer understandin' sis.” Big Macintosh strolled over to his sister and gave her a hug.

“Awww big brother...” Applejack hugged her brother tightly, then dipped her hat to the three mares. “Ladies, sorry fer interrupting yer oglin' of mah brother.”

“Oh no! That was not our intention. We were only curious about the sign.” Fleur spoke for the group, which was slowly moving backwards out of the tent. “We are all already otherwise involved.”

“And we did much desire to fee the younglings for hardships previous...” Cynthia stopped, both in danger of giving away too much and because Applejack was starting to look like she recognized the speech.

“Thank you again bye!” Lime bowed and then swept the toehr two out, leaving behind nothing but a rustling tent flap.

“Mine apologies, my dames. Too loose did mine eely member writhe in open air before they not meant to know the face behind my glamour.” Cynthia shook her head and grinned sheepishly at her companions.

“It was not your fault, your majesty. The element-bearers are a special case. With any other pony that would have been perfectly acceptable.” Lime motioned towards another tent. “Here's another likely oddity tent.”

The tent looked exactly like the one previously seen, but with far more professionally-made poster beside it. It was done in an ancient Hipposian style, in black and red. There was a figure depicted, a powerfully-flexing biped creature whose face was obscured by a scroll, on which was written a blurb. “SEE the mighty male of powerful physical perfection, born of the finest male and female and midwifed by a power that few can comprehend! HEAR the proud and wise words of the great male from across the sea. EXPERIENCE the wonder that is the presence of the great male.”

“Well, no more hyperbole than the last. I see now how they get their bits in here. Almost as though they are charging ponies to see how little resemblance there is between the poster and the reality.” Fleur examined the poster closely with a quirk of her brow.

“Hey now, hey now! You can't talk like that right here without seeing what's inside.” By the tent flap was another podium, with a white pegasus mare behind it. She was pure white, mane and coat, that mane very short but growing out a bit, like a military cut left to its own devices.

“A royal guard?” Lime stepped over and looked her over. “That's kind of unusual out here. And why is your mane out of style?”

The mare looked down at Lime and noticed the ditty bag on her back. “Well, you're green but no earth pony. You must be married to a Lunar guard. Miles Scutum or Miles Gladius?”

“Destrier, transferred to the Celestian corps not too long ago.”

“Well now, good rank and a nice lateral move. Miles Scutum, Celestian corps. Well, former anyhow. I am not here in an official capacity... for the guard. I resigned and moved to be with my husband. It's not a bad life. I got lucky. So! Want to solve the mystery of this fine fellow in the tent? Five bits per visit, and you will NOT be disappointed.”

After a few sidelong glances between the three mares they levitated out the needed bits, carefully stacking them before the former guard. They then entered the tent, the sounds suddenly muffling. The tent must have been magically silenced. Sitting in the tent was a gargantuan creature. A titanic biped in many shades of blue. His muscles almost seemed to creak as he flexed, which was almost a consequence of his very motions. His Diamond Dog-like physique was topped by a bull's head, with cloven hooves down on the ground. On top of his head was a gold band, set with several semi-precious and precious stones. He pointed at the trio and stuck up his thumb, smiling. “If somepony tries to block, show them you ROCK! Maybes are for BABIES!”

While the other two stood there nonplussed, Cynthia turned her head slightly to the side and looked at the figure. “How now? King Minos the 28th? Lord of the Aegeman Sea? How be it that thou art here in m- in these lands?”

“Ah! Someone official. Canterlot ladies, right? No one else seems to know who I am, other than Iron Will the seminar leader.” Minos flopped back onto a comfortable chair, putting his hooves up. “I had always planned some kind of state visit. But then my wife told me about this fair and I figured I could have fun with it. She set up the tent. And look, they gave me a pizza! Deep fried pizza, even!” The king pulled out a box and showed off a pizza, with several slices removed. All the remaining looked to be breaded and deep fried. “They don't have this kind of thing in my kingdom. But they will when I get back.”

“Your wife? You mean that pony out there? How did a royal guard happen to get married to a king of a foreign land? How would she even have met you? I'm very much a palace insider and I've never heard of you.” Lime looked curiously to the huge male, who was noisily eating a pizza slice.

“Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph! Ah, sorry about that. Still not used to the whole “kingly regality” thing. It was a while back. Two very nice ladies from Ponyville encouraged me to go back to my homeland to reconcile with my father. They had some guards to make it a diplomatic mission. Well, you know, there was a great mare that hated to admit she loved to see me flex and loved all my witting saying. She didn't even mind when Iron Will called himself Iron Will when Iron Will was...”

“Honey, too much.” The mare stuck her head into the tent, almost as though she could sense that her husband was going over the top.

“Yes dear.” Minos slumped in his chair. Then brightened up and gave a thumbs up. “But she's been a great queen. And my mother likes her. They're the same color so they share beauty tips. Yea, Queen Puffy Nimbus. That was a hard sell back home. Not because she's a pony, but the name. Some dogs and bulls felt it lacked Aegeman dignity. But that's neither here nor there. Should I share more of my pearls of wisdom? I've got a million of them!”

“Thank you no, thine excellency. T'was a most entertaining visit and most propitious use of our bits. Fare thee well, King Minos. May thou and thy comely wife see the courts of Canterlot, if only that thou mayest unite thy blood and love to forge an heir.”

The trio strolled back out into the light, all three of them thinking deeply, for several different reasons. Lime broke the stalemated silence with a nod towards a huge aisle of tents and other temporary structures together with tables and benches. “That deep-fried pizza reminded me of the best part of this fair. The deep-fried foods. They'll coat anything in batter and fry it up. You won't see food like that in the Canterlot restaurants. And if it's good enough for a king, it should be good for us.”

“By uniqueness alone I am eager to sample all that we can find. Let's not waste a moment more!” Fleur ran on, followed closely by her compatriots.

There was truly a vast and dizzying assortment of food, not all of it deep-fried and not all of it strictly suitable for a pony's stomach. Fowl and small rodents and other such non-sentient creatures for griffin palates and Diamond Dog tastes as well, though they were also served by small side-menus of gems. Though amusingly, those gems were also available for deep-frying. But aside from that, there were vast assortments of other available fryable objects, from pastries to pizzas and all other things. Including, of all things, pickles, in chip and whole form.

The mares took a load off under an umbrella, sitting on cushions before the table laden down their oily bounty. Fried cheesecakes, fried brownies, fried corn nibblets, fried vegetables, fried ice cream, fried cookies, fried candy bars. And for Fleur, a fried pickle spear.

“'Tis a strange repast, to be certain. But let us have no fear.” Cynthia lit her horn, bringing a cool breeze to sweep across the table of food.

Lime started to eat a slice of deep-fried cheesecake. She cut it with her plastic utensils, her attention focused away from her tablemates. She smiled as she munched on it, then noticed that Fleur was sitting there, mouth full, pickle spear entirely gone. “D-dame Fleur? Did you just eat a whole fried pickle spear?” She got a nod for her trouble. “That quickly?” Another nod answered her. Lime could only shake her head and turn back to her meal. “No wonder Fancy Pants likes you.”

Following the greasy spread, the three decided to give the games a miss, because they thought it would be unfair to others with the aid of a princess. They instead turned towards the rides. The strangely-formed, scream-inducing rides that loomed in their own section.

“I can promise that neither of you have experienced anything like this in all our lives. Begging your majesty's pardon for my presumption, but from what I know of your own era, they had nothing at all like these things. Every kind you might like. The small roller coaster, a rotating cup ride, the “flinging you up like a slingshot string” ride, and even the “whip you around like an idiot” ride.” Lime pointed out the various ride types, and the lines for them. “Just take a pick of whichever you like. The lines look brisk.”

Cynthia scanned across the field of choices, tapping her hoof on her chin while she considered the various reactions of the riders. Finally she picked out one of the centrifuge ride and led the three over. “What be the meaning of this curious appellation? “The Puke-a-tron five-thousand”? It doth sound greatly technologically advanced, as we have heard said of such things afore.”

“If I may, your majesty. As I understand it, 'puke' is modern slang for 'vomit.' This device appears to promise that its motion will be such that it will cause riders to disgorge their stomachs. A bold claim.” Fleur regarded the whirling device with a queasy eye, even as she stood in line for it.

“Aye, aye! Bold and most presumptuous. I do challenge thee, thou infernal machine. Try me as thou wilt, thou shalt not find me wanting.” Cynthia glared hotly at the machine, as if expecting a reply.

“Most bold, your majesty. I join in your confidence. I have an iron stomach. Land, sea or air, I have a steady bearing about myself. Strong as a rock, or solid or however the earth ponies say it.” Lime proudly patted her slightly-distended stomach, grinning in smug happiness.

The three stood patiently in line in their own particular modes: Cynthia with a determined furrowing of her brow and hard stare at the ride; Lime with a grin on her face and occasional smug nod as she heard a screech from within; and Fleur with the occasional shudder and cower, biting at her lower lip and rubbing slowly at her belly, cursing her full stomach.

In time they reached the front of the line, allowing themselves to be led in by the earth pony running the ride. It was like a giant flattened wheel on its side, with rectangular spaces dividing the place where each rider was to be place, with secure straps and bars that would hold them in a standing position, their backs to the inner wall of the ride.

The chose to not scatter themselves around the ride but set themselves beside one another, Fleur on the left, Cynthia in the center and Lime on the right. Other riders came in and were strapped in around the inside of the ride, as usual, mostly ponies, but with one Diamond Dog and one griffin also strapped into place on the ride. With all the riders secured to it, the entrance was closed and it began.

At first there was nothing much to it. The whine of an electrothaumatic engine beneath the base of the ride started to power up to full force. Each revolution took a little less time, some clouds in the sky providing a point of reference for the riders to judge their rotation speed. None of them were all that affected, and several started to give happy squeaks and whoops of delight.

Fleur's stomach stayed where it had been, and was not getting any more stable as the thing spun around faster and faster. She felt like her head was spinning as well, twisting around on her neck. The situation did not noticeably improve when the thing had spun up to what she presumed to be full speed. She was forced back by the centrifugal force, pressed uncomfortably against the poorly-padded surface of the ride. Then the machine move, tilting so wildly she thought it was broken and falling, ripping a scream from her throat that was far less cheerful than the happy cries from all the others.

All was well with the world, however, and it only took her two tilts before it entered her mind that she was not dead and scattered across the fairgrounds. But with that fear conquered, the nausea returned. And her stomach was even more blended up after all the tilting and terror. She could feel herself turning green. And she could hear a voice cutting through the rush of wind, likely by use of magic, “Ha-ha! Dame Fleur, thou hast the talents of a Changeling! Most impressive how thou hast attained the aspect of Dame Lime so easily!”

Fleur was about to respond in some manner when a loud retch broke over the scene. Her queasy stomach heaved and jumped, sending a fresh surge of nausea through her and making her regret everything, including the fried pickle, the fried ice cream and ever leaving bed that morning. She opened her mouth to let out a tortured moan, but was outclassed by a tremendous gag and the sound of splattering vomit. All eyes, and a few angry glares, were drawn to Lime, who was the same shade as ever, but was disgorging her distended belly full of fried foods. And in a most impressive stream.

The ride shut down with a deepening whine and a slight grind of the brakes as it slowed to a stop. A well-trained and efficient squad of unicorns with soapy water and fire magic washed down the ride and cleaned up any of the riders that required it. Lime was the central focus for scrubbing and drying, a deep blush browning out her green cheeks.

Cynthia and Fleur were waiting for her when she finally got back from her cleanup, looking utterly humiliated. No mare spoke for a long while, until Lime finally offered, “I guess twisting and tilting is easier to handle when you're having sex.”

The dam broke and all the nervous, embarrassed energy spilled out in a tremendous three-sided laugh-fest that rang out good and loud and long. “Aye, 'tis so, insofar as I am aware. Never had I had complaint of stomach or other part from mine dear heart as we wheeled. But let that pass. Thou art an echo-filled chamber, my maid, and 'tis a poor state in which to be. Let us fill thee again with what thou has lost. In undigested form.” Another laugh rang out as the three trotted back to the line of food stalls.

Back at their previous table, Lime was happily refilling her belly with more fried desserts and vegetables, when she pointed off past the other two. “Mm, look at that.”

Walking the broad aisle between the stalls of food was a singularly odd couple, even over and above the ones that had already been seen. The most noticeable member of the pair was a zebra, tall and strong, carrying a satchel on her back. Her mane was done up in a mohawk, and she had a spiraling sun symbol on her flank. Her companion was a bouncing ball of custard yellow energy. She was bouncing all around with all the exuberance of a draining youth, wearing a big red bow in her mane and a matching satchel on her back. She was chattering up a storm, her manic energy not bothering the grinning zebra in the slightest. “So after we get us some lemonade and some fried hay fries and fried okra can we get us some pretty rocks and then go see a show? Please?”

The zebra reached out to ruffle the filly's mane, nodding her head with a grand motion. “But of course my little dear/ I'll do all you like while we are here.”

Cynthia smiled brightly and held back her hoof from rising in greeting. “Ah, another treacherous relation. Well do I know her. She be a high and potent mistress of physic, knowing well how one may take herb and seed and make powder and draught. She hath saved a life near and dear. And thous seest her intended betrothed, fair Applebloom. Her brother was displayed as oddity, and sister vexed with her absence, but now I see whereabouts she hath been. Courting and chastely sporting with her beloved.”

Lime noticed, between swallows, that Fleur and Cynthia were looking at the retreating pair with wistful sighs and mooning gazes. So after a good drink of carrot juice and a pat to her settled and refilled stomach she rapped the table to catch their attention. “Let's head over to the entertainment area. There are small shows set up near the main stage. And tonight it looks like an all comedian lineup.” She levitated out her program and pointed to the section for that day.

“Well, your majesty, it would be most grandly diverting. We're here to be diverted, and so far it has been greatly so. Let us continued that wonderful streak.”

“Aye... Aye indeed! Thou speakest good sooth, Dame Fleur. We have but our selves to blame for any doleful look and dour gaze. Come, let us be cheered by the puppet plays, jugglers and troubadours.”

“Now that's the spirit! And your majesty, if you thought you had fun before, just wait until you see what they have in store for you.” With a wink, Lime led the others on.

As they trekked through the crowds to the main stage area at the far end of the fair, Luna read through the scheduled program of events. The fair persisted for quite a while, and boasted a fine suite of entertainers on the main stage and the slightly smaller venues. On the penultimate day, on one of the side-stages, was promised a griffin of the Bald clan, together with adjunct performer, a Trixie Lulamoon, which set off memories in the princess' mind.

That remembering was broken by the harsh shout of a familiar voice. “Alright! This is it! The local big time! Once a year, this fair comes around and a lot of big names come with it! So we've gotta really wow them, even if we're not on the main stage!” There in the staging area of one of the smaller stages was the element-bearer Rainbow Dash, dressed as a coach, with a towel draped across her neck, and a matching hat and sweatshirt from the Cloudsdale Flight School. She was shouting her encouragements to a large tortoise wearing flight goggles and a propeller on its back.

A small knot of the other element-bearers were there, seemingly missing only Applejack, who had previously been reported to be working at selling apples. Fluttershy spoke up quietly. “Oh, Rainbow... sh-should you really be, um, yelling at him like that? I'm afraid you'll hurt his feelings or make him nervous.”

Rainbow Dash dismissed the concern with a wave of her hoof and a confident grin. “Chillax, Fluttershy. Tank's got a thick shell. He's totally cool.” She tapped the tortoise's shell, looking quite proud. Then she took on a serious look and looked down at her reptile. “Alright, look here turtle...”

Fluttershy interrupted, “Tortoise.”

“Terrapin...” Rarity added, pressing against Fluttershy's side with a warm smile.

“¡Tortuga!” Pinkie Pie suddenly popped up with her own statement, for some reason using Caballito.

“Testudinidae.” Twilight offered, pulling Pinkie into an embrace with a laugh.

“Chelys!” All eyes fell upon Cynthia, who had been caught up in the moment and shouted out her own Equusian input. “Apologies. Thy verecund compatriot did move...” She clamped her mouth shut and scampered off with her two companions.

The eyes of four of the mares followed along, Rainbow Dash hmphing and looking away from it all. “Whatever.”

The three retreating mares laughed lightly, as a kind of pressure reduction. Cynthia grinned broadly and looked to Lime. “Dame Lime, have we passes to this stage performance of comedic workers?”

“No need. This one isn't a big time private show. The bigger performers have private shows, but for something like this the cost of the show is built into the cost of admission. We just need to find seats.” Lime led the trio through a metal archway of pipes that led to a large, well-populated area with numerous bench-type seats radiating out in a circular pattern from a large stage.

The seating area was not completely full, but it was a somewhat tight squeeze, the three mares forced to look up and down and around for a space that all three could occupy side-by-side. They found a seat at last, at the end of a row, with a very focused earth pony to the left of Lime, Cynthia to her right, and Fleur by the aisle.

Down on the stage there was a rotund brownish unicorn stallion, with a chocolate cake on his flank. According to the program he was “Gabardine Casas” and his set was almost over. He appeared to be telling a story about a friend, putting on a very heavily affected Caballitan accent. “¡Órale, güey!” He popped his shoulders and made a few motions with his eyebrows. “Pues... pero, ¡¿esta divertido, verdad?!”

The crowd broke into pockets of raucous laughter with some expanses of smaller chuckles. Cynthia herself was among those giving a huge guffaw, while Fleur gave a smaller laugh, but no less a real one. Lime, however, looked completely confused. She leaned over to Cynthia and whispered, “Your majesty..? Ahhh... I'm afraid that the humor slightly escapes me.”

Cynthia wiped at her eyes a bit and chuckled a bit. “At times, comprehending a plurality of languages doth pay rich dividends. The modern speech be strange but his point be made most clearly. 'Tis difficult to explain; know I only that it served as head to a larger jest told earlier in his narrative, and the correct thing to do was to laugh.”

Fleur leaned across and said o Lime, “It was essentially two stallions who knew each other well, the friend frustrating him but then rhetorically asking him if it was amusing. He was annoying but percieved his annoyance as comedy.”

Comprehension dawned on Lime's face and she gave a sharp laugh. “Ha! Fireclay on Nightmare Night and on Jester's Day! I know his pain.”

While the explanations had been going on Gabardine had made his way off stage and the next comedian had been announced. According to the program it was someone named Tealeaf mac Chard O'Clover. On the stage there was a full-bodied hippogriff, his griffonic portions clearly shown to be Bald while some slight feathering on his rear hooves gave some indication of his possible specific pony regional identity. His non-griffin colors were pure green, solidly, and a very bright green at that, somewhat unusual for a stallion but not truly strange.

“Hullo Ponyville Fair!” His voice was bright and cheery, a moderated tenor with a strong Capall brogue to more specifically identify his particular pony identity. “Now I know what you're thinking. Let me put your minds at ease. Yes, I do have a preferred skyball club AND I follow the lightning jagging but you won't hear bollocks about it out of me.”

A laugh rippled out around the crowd and a few cries of the popular clubs rang out. “Trottingham!” “Cumuli-stratus!” “Rangers!”

Tealeaf's head shot up at that last, eagle eyes casting over the crowd. “I heard that! Who was it? Who wants some of this? There's a lot of muscle somewhere under all this... eh, well, when there's goody and barmbrack that doesn't need to wait for Nightmare Night, these things happen.” He patted his stomach to the sound of laughter and a few cries of agreement.

“Aye then, for all you wondering yes, I'm a hippogriff. Mum comes out of the kingdom, da is out of Capall. Marriage made perfect, really. They speak the same second language, have the same traditions, and yell about the same sports clubs.” Another wave of laughter worked through the crowd.

“It DOES make things strange, though. Mum still has family back in the Kingdom, and I've lived there for long stretches. But you just... you never think about the fact that it's a whole new nation that often. But sometimes... when I send a letter to me granddam, it all starts out normal on the envelope. Grammy's house, grammy's peak, grammy's township, and then in giant letters down at the bottom, GRIFFIN KINGDOM. And when I take the letter to the post I have to wave at your stallion behind the cage and say, 'Oi! Mush! You see that? You see that stuff above the big letters? THAT'S NOT FOR YOU! That's just for the postbirds over there. You just get it over there and THEY can handle the rest, got it?'” The crowd exploded with laughter, thundering their hooves against the ground.

The comedy set went on for a good while, culminating in a hilarious story about accidentally telling an operator the words, 'pubic, thong and muff.' The applause was thunderous and the laughs just as loud. The three ladies rose from their spaces and slowly filed out of the stage area. Lime checked on the program and checked a nearby clock. “Well, there are fireworks just after dark...”

“Dark! Cul! We must away home 'afore the night must needs come! Sister will be most vexed should the moon be late in the dome of the sky! Come, my Dames, we away to the gate and home again.” With a very worried look Cynthia took off towards the front gate, occasionally bowling aside others, with Lime and Fleur in her wake offering running apologies.

The three mares popped into existence inside of the palace gates, before Rosy Cranberry and Golden Stare. Cynthia dropped her disguise with a shimmering wave of mana, becoming Luna once again. “Cavalier, Miles Scutum. Has my sister called upon me in mine official capacity?”

“Not at all, your majesty. She seems to have handled all matters herself.” Golden responded with a crisp voice.

“Shall I summon a carriage for you, miss De Lis?” Rosy looked to the whote unicorn with his usual small blush.

“No, thank you, Miles Cranberry. It is a lovely early evening. I think I shall trot the path to my home. It is perfectly safe.”

Luna snorted derisively and shook her head. “'Tis no such thing indeed, my dear Dame Fleur. Lascivious minds and impure flesh do stretch from this palace to thy port, with few exceptions along. Trust not the innocence nor nobility of the ignoble cullions and drabs that would hunger for thy tender and pure corse. Cavalier Stare, place notice 'pon the constables all along the way that they should guard her with their very beings.”

“It shall be done, your majesty.” With a small bow Golden was away, back into a small guard station tucked just inside the doors.

“And it please thee, let us here part 'pon informal ground. Duties must be tended, as, I suspect, must certain personal matters. Tender tending to personal matters with much focus in the careful tap of dit-dah, as they say.” Luna let out a raucous laugh that brought a smile to her friends and a tremendously scandalized blush to Rosy.

“The word has been delivered, my prin... oh Rosy... She's been in good form, I see. Come here, honey...” Golden gathered his husband up into a warm, comforting hug, while the three mares watching grew soft looks and little smiles. “You may freely walk home in security, miss De Lis.”

“Thank you very much, Cavalier. Your majesty, Dame Lime, until we meet again.” Fleur bower and trotted out towards the front gates.

“The day be done, in the main, and thus shall the birds of day come in to their vespers. Be in thy bedchamber, my maid, that thy questing rook may find roost in thy bosom. Let him bring devotion to thy secret chapel...”

“M-majesty...” Golden cleared his throat and tried to look fairly neutral. “I know you mean well, and are greatly comedic. But... she IS my niece. I don't need to hear these sorts of things. Even in your majesty's wonderfully colorful language.”

Lime and Luna looked to one another, a sly smile passing between them. ''Tis sauce made of apple well as orange, Cavalier. Surely thou knowest well this truth.”

Golden stiffened against Rosy, who grinned a bit. “They gotcha, sweetheart.”

The evening shadows lengthened as Celestia slowly dipped the sun lower and lower in the sky. Fleur had enjoyed a rather long, pleasant, but secure meandering trot from the palace, through the first terrace boutique areas, and down into her own home terrace. It was as it ever was. Clean and well-tended buildings, with far more homes and condos than above. It wasn't as glittery, but it was her home. And she smiled as she trotted along with a hum on her lips.

The hum faded away and died as she looked to the front of her apartment and saw a figure lurking just out of the reach of the light. Her hooves halted with a too-loud clop, alerting the whole street she was there. She gave a small curse as the figure turned towards her. She was too far off at at a bad angle to really see who it was. She could only cry out, “Constable!”

Immediately at the call a pegasus swooped down from the sky, heading right for the figure and tackling it to the ground. There was a brief scuffle, the constable mare subduing the figure with a bare minimum of activity. “Stand down! I am a constable protecting a Canterlot citizen on official order! Ma'am, please come forward to your home while I run this miscreant in.”

Fleur broke into a gallop towards her door, looking to the side at the constable and her prisoner. The shade of the body she saw seemed familiar. And the muscle. Not a bad looking... “Fleur! Darling! I believe there has been some sort of mistake!”

Fleur stopped on the porch, REALLY looking at what was visible. The thighs that were still so strong and potent, the hooficured hooves, slight feathering. It was him! “Fancy Pants!? Is that you?”

“Indeed it is, my dear. Would you be so kind as to please ask this charming mare to please stop twisting my limbs about like taffy?”

“O-oh! Yes! Please, let him go! This is my co- my friend! My dear friend! Please let him go.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The pegasus mare leaped off Fancy and gave him a quick brushing with her wings. “So sorry about that sir.”

Fancy got to his hooves and adjusted his attire, smoothing things out and reflexively fixing his mustache, making certain it was in perfect form. “Oh quite alright! You were only doing your job and protecting this delicate flower. I could not possibly begrudge you that, not at all!”

The mare blushed a bit at the stallion's polite bearing and good humor. She nodded to the two and took to the air. “Have a good evening you two.” The two ponies watched the pegasus soar off, then turned to each other.

“So, Fancy... ahh... what can I do for you tonight? I was not aware of any parties for this evening. And normally you send a letter. Very... very lovely letters.” Fleur swept her mane back, attempting to hide a tiny blush.

“No, no, no parties. You are quite correct that I would have sent a message beforehoof. This is strictly a social call. I assure you that is entirely appropriate. I mean nothing untoward. Though having been tackled by a constable I must say I do feel a bit like a common ruffian. Something to consider next time we have an evening in the hot tub.”

“Oh, goodness! Fancy!” Fleur laughed musically and shook her head a bit. “Charming as ever, Fancy... A social call, you say? Most unusual. Not that I don't appreciate it. But... why tonight?”

“Well, until recently I have been out of town, as you well know, at a very vital meeting. Many important matters were discussed, including matters of a personal nature. And they had a good point in what they said. Thus my presence here, on your doorstep. Like a gawky suitor after a third date, hoping to be invited in for some socializing. And tea.”

“That's not what a suitor wants on a third date. And this is hardly a third date for us.” Fleur did not add that they never really had any form of date, setting aside formal evenings. “However, Fancy... I think I can put a kettle on for you. Was there anything in particular you wanted to do? Aside, of course, from “socializing” in the manner I know you enjoy.”

Fancy smiled, and dipped his head a bit. “I know you quite enjoy it as well. But yes. There are things to discuss. All the parties and social events are lovely. And I want it to continue. Sometimes I think you need to feel more appreciated. And I think I know the best way.”

Fleur tilted her head a touch, horn glowing and opening her door. “Well then, come inside, and tell me all about it.” With a bounce of her mane she slipped inside, lighting up her apartment.

A/N: For full disclosure and to be sure no one accuses me of anything, the comedians are based on two of my favorite comedians. Gabardine Casas is based on Gabriel Iglesias, as is his joke. Tealeaf mac Chard O'Clover is based on Dara O'Briain, and his gag about sending a letter is based on one he did about sending a letter to Ireland. Also, the bit about saying things to an operator is another joke he did.

A Night At The Club

Dames
Of The
Tea Table

By Gabriel LaVedier

A Night At The Club

Connie flopped down on the bed in her cell, smiling brightly. Her mane hung down, loosed from the usual puffy ringlets for the night. She was still unbelievably happy, even though her engagement had been several days ago. She was engaged... to Prince Blueblood. She had never anticipated such a thing, never imagined it could be so. But it was. And it was glorious.

Even so engaged she still lived in her maid's cell and still performed her duties as she ever had. Her future great-aunts-in-law had, singly and as a unit, offered her grace and favor, for the period or her engagement. She had declined, and furthermore reiterated her position that she would remain a maid and perform her duties. She had to smile as she remembered seeing Blueblood's reaction to the idea.

“But... but dearest...” Blueblood said, scratching at his mane. “You're... engaged to me. You're practically a princess. It may not be much of a position in the temporal sense but the status and title carries a great deal of weight. Why would you continue to work on as you had?”

“There are several reasons,” Connie replied, snuggling against her confused fiance. “First of all, I made a promise when I came to work here. That I had come to work. I have kept it and will keep it until things change in a far more formal way. Secondly, I happen to enjoy my work. It's hard but fulfilling and all my friends are still working as well. I can keep up with them and do something I enjoy greatly. Lastly, and most importantly, you liked me when I was still nothing more formal that a simple scullery maid. I wouldn't want to change your impression of me so quickly.”

Blueblood rubbed his chin a little bit. “Like to work?” he asked. “What a strange idea. But it's yours, so I like it.”

Connie pulled Blueblood into a bone-bending hug and gave a braying laugh. “You'll come to understand in time. It just takes a little time...”

A curt, firm knock brought Connie out of the memory and turned her attention aside. She wasn't expecting company. “Fireclay, is that you?” No answer came. “Rose Quartz?” Nothing. “Come on, this isn't funny.” Connie opened her door with a sour look on her face.

Behind the door stood three figures. All three of them wore dark cloaks with hoods pulled up over their heads. Their faces were entirely obscured through some kind of strange and unnatural darkness. Magic flashed and set up a field that trapped Connie's sudden scream, which ended abruptly as a wave of blackness washed over her body and she lost awareness of everything around her.

Her awareness returned some short time later, in some sense. She was still in the dark but it was a natural darkness, and none of her other senses were interrupted. Light appeared in front of her, illuminating the three robed figures, though still not revealing their faces. “Wh-who are you? What is this? Don't make me break out my donkey strength on you!” Connie shouted, dropping into a fighting stance. “I'm engaged and I'm gonna get married! No creepy shadows are gonna stop me!”

“Hold!” The central figure shouted with a powerful voice. “Stay thine hoof and cool thy spleen! Thou hast no need for such ire. Behold thy surrounding!” The light in the room rose to show off what it was. The room was rather large, looking like two rooms with pushed-back walls. In the center there was a large tea table, set for four, with a steaming teapot and plate of sweets. There was also a bowling lane, a dartboard, a pool table and a silent jukebox. A door at the back of the room looked to lead to a kitchen. “And thy comp'ny.” The figures swept back their hoods, the magical darkness dropping from their faces to show Princess Luna, Lime Sherbert and Fleur de Lis.

“Princess Luna? Lime? And... wait... a fashion model I hear about a lot... Fleur de Lis,” Connie said, looking between the three figures. “What is this?”

“Welcome and well met, mine impending niece,” Luna said, nodding her head while Fleur and Lime bowed. “Dread naught, this be a time of great rejoicing and grand import.”

“This... might take a bit of explanation but I promise this will be an amazing thing. Trust me,” Lime said, giving Connie a wink.

“Particulars shall be given in fullness of time. But suffice that thou knowest that thou shalt be inducted unto this most august, occult organization. The fourth of our number, member in good standing of The Dames of the Tea Table!” Princess Luna shouted, her voice echoing around the room.

“It's a lot of dishing about husbands, or similar, chatting about things, playing games and talking about stallion flesh. Don't think it's the kind of secret society that rules the world. We have her majesty here; having this for that would be redundant,” Lime said with a laugh.

“We can get into any concert we want, see any movie, meet any celebrity and get a discount at any restaurant,” Fleur added with a laugh. “We could have Lipizzanerdale Dancers in here if we wanted but why bother? We apparently have more meat at home than a griffin veldt-hunter.”

“Well, I know I do. Seriously, I feel like I need climbing gear. The Griffin High King wishes his aerie was up that far,” Lime said with a huge laugh.

“O-oh... wow. That... that happened,” Connie said with a blush. “And I thought Fireclay was bad...”

Luna shook her head and smiled beatifically to Connie. “Aye, aye... 'tis parry and ripost betwixt these bawds o' mine. Sport o' tongue and hammer and tongs to see which may be rightly termed Dame Sauce. Verily, 'tis shocking. And it be too great an outrage shall I call that they be made mild in thy presence.”

“That's perfectly fine, your majesty. If that's the way it is here then I'll learn to deal with it. I just hope that being a bit retiring doesn't make me seem out of place. I mean, I really want to talk about the things here but it sounds like the subject here is length. Where is the love for girth? What about being able to plug up a mine shaft while reaching the lode at the bottom? And the boulders at the entrance! Can't forget that,” Connie said, with a mild tone and coy look, a naughty smile dancing on her lips.

The other three mares looked at Connie in stunned silence for a moment before breaking out into applause, stomping the floor and cheering. “Well spoken, mine impending niece! Thou hast in thee wit and tongue sharp as rapiers and quick as they be! Truly shalt thou be in good standing among us!” Luna shouted.

“Wow... like you said I expect that out of Fireclay but not you. Seriously. Never knew you had it in you,” Lime said with a grin.

“I am stunned, impressed and concerned. Dame Lime... we may have competition. This does not bode well,” Fleur said, with a broad grin.

“Then we try harder. Like what we scream when it's time for the finale,” Lime said with a laugh.

“Have done, have done, well do all of thee speak such ribaldry. But now there be more pressing matters, as our vegetables with bed,” Luna said, with a loud laugh.

“What matters, you majesty?” Connie asked, growing more serious.

Luna produced a sheet of parchment and passed it along to Connie. The flowing script looked to be of song lyrics, with some notations. “Ere we convene this gathering we each in turn sing this tune. As thou may note, there be space that thou shalt place vegetable or fruit of thy choosing that make stand in mockery of thy dear one's cod,” Luna explained.

“And she means 'mockery' in the older sense of 'copy' or 'imitation.' A reasonable facsimile. And by 'cod' she means... I think that one you can figure out,” Lime added, with a wink.

“Oh yes. I can figure it out...” Connie said. She looked over the paper and blushed a bit. “Don't I have to take an oath or give a drop of blood or steal some clothing or something?”

“This is a sorority, in the sisterhood sense, but we're not like the ones in less classy universities,” Fleur noted. “No matter what that little pegasus thought we were doing. Try to help somepony and they think the worst...”

“Shall I dub thee, once thou hast sung. We must hear from thine own lips of thy devotion, and of thy liberality. If thou woudst not speak freely among we, thy close confidants, then hast thou not the spirit we need for this gathering,” Luna said, with a grave tone.

Connie took on a determined look and read over the paper again. “I'm a donkey. I don't back down. I'll do it. I'm a little tone-deaf but I'll do it.” She cleared her throat, looked over the words again and sang, “I have got a daikon, what need have I for more, for more, what need have I for more? For I gobble, gobble, gobble my daikon, what need have I for more?”

Hearty cheers followed, as well as broad smiles. “Well, well... a daikon. Nice choice. Now, does that refer to color only, or to size as well?” Fleur asked with a cheeky grin.

Connie gave Fleur a smug smile and a wink as she answered, “Both.”

Another round of cheers followed, along with laughter. “Yes, well, as you will hear, my stand-in in butternut.”

“Zucchini,” Lime confessed with holding up a hoof.

“And I proclaim the pride of mine secret love as mocked by aubergine. But let that pass. Thy questions shall not be answered in full but know that thy future great-aunt doth keep a most loyal bed-presser of kind and mild nature. Speculate with thy fellow Dames, as I know they have done i'the past. But now...” Luna cleared her throat and lifted a teapot, which she softly touched to Connie's forehead. “I dub thee Dame Connie, to serve as title until thou has taken thy place as Princess, and do welcome thee as member in good standing of this, the Dames of the Tea Table.”

Fleur and Lime applauded politely, Lime using her magic to pass over one of the hooded robes. “It seems strange, I know, but it adds something. You don't need to keep it on while using anything in the room. But they're very comfortable. It's quality material that breathes, and flows and is nice and soft.”

Connie looked the robe over then slipped it on, keeping the hood back. “Oh! Oh wow... I'm not in the habit of wearing much but my uniform but... this is nice! It's even better than all that fancy stuff Blueblood gets me.”

“Fancy clothes are not your friends,” Fleur said sagely. “There's an old adage in the business, 'You can look good or you can be comfortable, you can't do both.' Though some come closer to comfortable than others. Carousel Boutique originals aren't so bad.”

Luna rapped on the table with the teapot. “I do call this assembly to order. Let us engage ourselves with due pomp and propriety as we have in times past.” She passed the teapot to Fleur and smiled. “By my reck, it be thy turn.”

“Indeed, your majesty. Is it the usual blend?” Fleur asked, pouring the tea into the cups that had been set out.

“Aye, 'tis so. Forgive mine over-reliance 'pon the brew, but it be to my taste, and soothes me so. I may provide other blends and it be to thy liking that it should be,” Luna said.

“No, no, I was just wondering. It's rather grown on me. Sweet, aromatic, and the apple undertones are scrumptious,” Fleur said. She lifted the plate of various sweets and held them out. “Anyone for treats?”

“Just a cookie,” Lime said, levitating over one. On further consideration she levitated three more and innocently sipped at her tea.

“Aye. Do I desire the hot tarts filled with apple jelly. They make mock of some thing of great familiarity,” Luna said, releasing a titanic, room-rattling laugh enhanced by the Royal Canterlot Voice.

Connie shook her head and rubbed her ears after the huge expression of mirth, picking out a few squares of fudge and a flaky mille-feuille. “I used to get pieces of this in the kitchen after parties. Now Blueblood can't wait to present me with some new treat. There are a lot of perks to this 'engagement' thing, other than getting to be with Blueblood.”

“Oh yes, speaking of engagements I've been holding this one in reserve for a while just so I could get some extra mileage out of the formal declaration...” Fleur used her magic to levitate a ring out of her robe, white gold studded with diamonds. She slipped it onto her horn and posed. “He finally did it! He finally, finally did it! I'm not just his plus-one! Now it's going to be him plus me, permanently!”

“Huzzah! This is good fortune indeed, Dame Fleur! At long last the pain that sent thee to mine suit chamber hath found cessation and thou shalt have thy love as thou hast desired!” Luna cried.

“It's about time,” Lime said with a laugh, while clapping her hooves. “You'd think he'd be a little quicker on that.”

“No, he takes his time. Sometimes it's good. Other times, not so much,” Fleur said, laughing lightly. “So, Dame Connie, you and I are in the same boat.

“I wish I knew you better. I'm happy for you but not as happy as I could be. Who is it, anyhow? I've been a bit too busy seeing me in the tabloids to notice other celebrities,” Connie confessed with a blush.

“I understand completely. It's Fancy Pants. For the longest time we were coltfriend and marefriend, in a loose but loyal sense, who went to social functions together and had eye-crossing sex with great frequency. I wanted more but never got it, so I asked her majesty what to do. Then... this happened,” Fleur said, indicating the room. “We'll fill you in on the finer points of this group later. But... suffice to say, I'm so thrilled! I'm getting married!”

“I know your excitement! This is a weird night. So weird. But great!” Connie said quickly. “Don't get me wrong. Weird is good. Blueblood was unbelievably weird at first. That turned out fantastic. So as strange as this is, this is one wonderful night.”

“Aye, 'tis so. Th' strange and unusual often be more than they seem. While some may hold no charm there be much in th' unexpected and novel,” Luna said, nibbling on one of her tarts.

Lime tapped softly on the table. “I formally propose something for the consideration of all. I hereby propose a double-bachelorette party for our soon-to-be-weds. Who will second this notion?”

Fleur's hoof hot up eagerly. “Second! That sounds like a fantastic idea!”

“Hold, Dame Lime...” Luna said, looking puzzled. “A party for these impending nuptials seem good sooth, aye. Yet why doest thou call it party for dames that have not banners of their own and fight 'neath that of another? Shouldst thou be included in that comp'ny then; thou are dame bachelorette as well. If ever on field of contest thou wouldst be 'neath the banner of this order, not of thine own line.”

Everyone took a moment to think of Luna's words, but Lime got it faster than the rest, having been with Luna longer. “Your majesty, the word has changed. Now bachelorette, or bachelor, is the term for one unmarried, though they are old enough to be married.”

“Then why hold such a fete? Would not a bachelorette's party be celebration of being unwedded?” Luna inquired.

“It's a modern tradition that celebrates the end of singlehood and impending marriage. One last celebration as an unmarried mare,” Lime noted.

“I don't know...” Connie said, hesitantly. “I promised Fireclay and Rose Quartz and the others that we'd have a bachelorette party at the palace. They're my friends. You know that, Lime.”

“Dame Lime,” Lime said, before nodding. “And I know, Dame Connie. But still, it's a fun idea...”

“I promised the same thing,” Fleur noted. “I was actually also going to double with Platinum Shine, since I'm one of the few ovarian enough to stand by her after she got engaged to a Diamond Dog. But this would be good as well. Why not have two? More fun, more celebration, different crowds and experiences. Special in their own ways.”

Connie rubbed her chin lightly. “I guess your right, Fle- Dame Fleur. It would be nice to get a few celebrations in, with different folks. I know what the other maids will do. I'm not sure what will happen here. And can I crash your other one? If you want ovarian fortitude, you call a donkey.”

“A future princess getting involved? Platinum would love it,” Fleur said with a smile.

“In truth, I am at a loss,” Luna said. “Time and again I do find that I have not concordance with his new age in which I reside. I do enjoy it, and there is much pleasure, but customs have arisen which I know not. Verily, have I the worse fortune. E'en in mine own time I had not contact with the betrothed. The only wedded ones I saw were they who sought the bonding of blood. Many a mule, hippogriff and zony helped I form, but never did I meet them before that moment.”

“This has to happen, then,” Lime said with a resolute tone and a solid thump of the table. “There's so much to be gained in the endeavor. A double-party for two deserving ladies, a new bit of fun and learning for you, your majesty, and as for me, well... I can fake being single and have and chance to enjoy that!”

“I think we've pretty much decided this has to happen,” Connie said. “All that's left is to figure out what kind of party. I don't think just sitting in here would work, though it's close enough. I mean...” She looked around the room and whistled. “It's a mare cave in here. This is probably better than the room the other maids were going to decorate up for me.”

“Not that this wouldn't be a good place, but I feel like going out for it. Maybe to a club again. This time there will be no bar brawls,” Fleur said, blushing as Connie gave her an odd look. “I'll tell the story later.”

“Perhaps an even of spirited and ribald entertainment at the theater. My private box be of good size for entertaining. 'Tis of comparison to my sister's and thou didst find it of great enjoyment, didst thou not, Dame Connie?” Luna asked.

“It was very comfortable your highness. Had a lot of good stuff in there too,” Connie said.

“Maybe a trip. We could draw funds and go to Chateau LaRoulette again. Gamble, sample salt and alcohol and go to another completely ridiculous play,” Lime suggested, getting another look from Connie. “There's a lot of stories. Don't worry, you'll get up to speed fast.”

“Sounds like I have some catching up to do...” Connie said, falling into a contemplative silence. She absentmindedly stroked the material of her robe, and looked around at the others. Something clicked in her head, and a dark blush spread slowly across her features.

One by one the others noticed the deep blush and wide eyes on Connie, Lime piping up with, “Okay, that look demands an explanation. Where did you think would make a good location?”

“Well, uh, I just suddenly thought...” Connie stammered for a moment and blushed deeper. “Well, why not a... dress club? I know, completely cliché for ladies out on the town, not original at all. But it's got all the action and excitement we could want for a bachelorette party.”

“Aye!” Luna shouted suddenly. “My future great-niece doth speak good sooth. This do I know indeed, for have there ever been they that dress for delight of others. Aye, dressing be of interest when one most loved be tiring their selves with great skill...” Her focus wavered and she got lost in thought.

Bad Apple ran a brush through his long, shimmering black mane. Unlike most days he had not slicked it with pomade. It was allowed to flow, wild and free, blowing beautifully in every breath of a breeze. He stood, caramel body bare to the world and the hungry eyes of Luna. “Mm, I think... I should wear something special...” he said with a smooth tone.

“Aye, aye, wear what you will, so long as it be most... involved,” Luna breathed, licking her lips just slightly.

Bad Apple first took up fine silver wires and wove them in his mane, creating the appearance of waves in the sea of obsidian. He set a few pieces of jewelry along the wires, silver settings holding polished jet. His mane properly done he turned to his tail, similarly twisting silver threads through it and settling more pieces of jewelry. To that he added a set of jingling silver bells. He finished by tying a colorful, broad silk ribbon under his tail, swaying his tail to set the ribbon to flowing and the bells to ringing. “Nice, isn't it?”

“Front or rear you do appear so fine, my love,” Luna said breathily.

Bad Apple took up a caparison, all in dark purple cloth with lighter patches of dark blue with pieces of black. On the center of each side was a bright crescent moon embroidered in silver thread. He slipped a saddle on over the caparison, largely of bare, polished ebony construction, the cloth portions dark purple satin with silver hardware and embellishments. He pulled the girth slowly over his stomach and ran it through the cinch on the other side, slowly pulling it tight to secure the saddle on his body. He lifted up a dark purple crupper and slowly stroked it across his toned rear, under the swaying ribbon. “This crupper is so smooth and comfortable. Would you like to see me cinch this on good and secure, my dear?”

“Aye... please do secure the saddle well,” Luna groaned softly.

The crupper settled securely along Bad Apple's hindquarters, pulled up good and taut against the firm cheeks of his rear. He attached one side to the saddle, then secured the other with a deft flick of his hooves. “Secure... but should I be armored for you? I am your black knight-errant. Maybe a few pieces of armor for you...”

Luna bit her lip as she smiled. Her eyes were bright as a blush burned on her cheeks. “A-aye, mine adored black knight-errant! Do continue...”

“As you want,” Bad Apple said, winking and blowing a kiss to Luna. He pulled up a silver poitrel, polished to mirrored perfection. A network of swirling lines and geometric figures had been etched into the surface, black glass enameled into the grooves, while in the center was a molded crescent moon set with diamonds. He pressed the armor against his chest and secured it to his upper body with decorative silver-colored bands.

Further armor came up, in similar style, silver, with black enamel lines and pressed crescent moons. Each piece was shown off, lovingly rubbed against Bad Apple's body where it would be placed and then attached. The pisane on his neck, cuisses on his thighs, greaves on all four legs, polains on the knees and finally sabatons on his hooves.

He struck a pose, head held up proudly, body turned slightly to show as much as possible. He looked like some fantastic combination of noble dandy and grand knight. “Does that please you, my love? I could undress quickly and do it again...”

Luna shivered as her eyes hungrily gobbled up the fully-dressed form, tracing every clothed or armored curve, everything that she had seen being covered. “Aye...” she sighed. “Aye, mine adored one. Divest your self and tire yourself again...”

The other ladies in the room watched Luna with some embarrassment, and a bit of humor as she stared into space, licked her lips and gave a somewhat-perverse smile. Lime coughed softly, which seemed to be just enough to bring Luna back to her senses. She looked at the trio and cleared her own throat. “Do forgive mine intemp'rate fugue.”

Fleur lifted a toast with her teacup and smiled. “No need to ask for forgiveness. I think we all fantasized about our darlings. I know I was picturing Fancy. I lingered on his sliding on his ascot and slowly tying it off. So slowly...”

“I think that the idea is brilliant and accept it!” Lime said suddenly.

“Dame Lime is right. I vote for it. It should make for a great time,” Fleur said.

“And I, too, vote for this course. Dame Connie, thy proposal hath been carried without argument,” Luna said.

“Woo! I feel so... accomplished! Getting a plan like this approved feels like a victory. Maybe we should get up some physical challenges,” Connie said cheerily.

“Let us not engage in rugby nor the joust lest we may be certain we have liberty to travel to the field,” Luna said, getting an odd look from Connie. “Shall I inform thee anon. But mine impending niece doth speak good sooth. Come, let us continue this gathering in frivolity, with music and games. Dame Connie, thy taste in music must needs be known, that it may be added to the music box. Until then... let us be frivolous!”

A short time later all the various aspects of the plan for a secret double-bachelorette-party had been completed. Funds had been secretly drawn on the usual account for miscellaneous activities and toilet articles, with the usual strange and uncomfortable look from the palace accountant. All other things were arranged under various aliases.

The ladies had freed themselves from responsibilities through various means. Fleur had told Fancy she would be unavailable that evening due to a palace confab; Luna waved off all duties and suits save for raising the moon by fiat; Lime told her husband she was going to be hanging out with the Princess, as usual; Connie told Blueblood that Princess Luna wanted to get to know her.

On the night they all met in the Dames' room, which had been loaded with racks of various fancy dresses, though all of them with muted styles. “Oh my... it's like... it's like those places that Blueblood keeps taking me to try and buy me fancy new things. It's cute that he thinks I'll like it,” Connie said with a soft laugh.

“Aye, he hath a most fond imagination, but 'tis mild and innocent. He doth think of naught but thy glory and pleasure. 'Tis most pleasing that he be thus,” Luna said, running a hoof over the attire. “This be the lot from which we may tire ourselves for this endeavor.”

“As before, all of this was bought on consignment. We'll wear some of them once and then give it all back. As before they'll probably label it as 'As worn in the palace' and raise the price a bit. Everyone wins,” Lime noted.

“We must be well disguised. There was not sufficient security in the journey to tavern and faire. In journey to the Chateau we did well to be cloaked in glamour. Dread naught, my niece. This magic doth not cause pain, 'tis little more than cloak of magic, like as Changelings, though on the surface alone. I may change my form most completely, though for thee only color and mark,” Luna said.

“I... what?” Connie asked, turning to Lime and Fleur.

“She means, we've been out before and were almost identified. Or, I should say, I was identified but thankfully by someone who was a friend. We've also been disguised before and will do that now. She can change her whole body, but for us can only change color and Cutie Mark,” Fleur explained.

“Ah. Clever. And proper. Some ponies may say that 'all donkeys look alike' but it's just a joke. They can easily tell us apart. And with my picture in every magazine I'm a bit conspicuous,” Connie said with a nod.

“Aye, 'tis so. Thus, stand, that ye all may be made properly,” Luna said. The three ladies lined up in front of Luna and stood calmly. Luna lit up her horn and washed all three of them in a purple-toned aura of magic that grew brighter and brighter, hiding their bodies. It broke with a flash and revealed the new bodies for the trio.

Fleur had attained more of a pinkish tone, a light rose color taking the place of her normally white coat, while a darker pink took the place of her mane and tail color. Lime had changed fruits, in a sense, her coat turning a bright, showy yellow, while her mane and tail were more of a muted sunny tone. Connie had turned entirely melanistic, by and large, her coat entirely black save for the spots that had been cream, which were more of a dark gray, and the black of her mane and tail tuft, which were brownish in color.

“Behold thy selves and see thee in thy glamour. Taketh thou new names that ye shall be wholly disguised in eye and ear,” Luna said, levitating over a mirror.

The three admired themselves in the mirror. Lime and Fleur were looking at their new marks, Fleur having gotten a trio of flowers in the color of her prior mark, while Lime had a lemon on her flank in place of the lime. Connie was just marveling at the change and her new hue. “Oh wow... I wouldn't even recognize me even with a magazine in front of me...”

“It's an interesting experience, that's for sure. Now for names... I think the standard. Dame Lemon for me,” Lime said.

“And Dame Flores for me. I like the way it rolls off the tongue,” Fleur said, bouncing her hair lightly.

“Umm... I don't really have experience making up names like this. I never had to use an alias for any reason,” Connie noted.

“And it please thee, mine impending niece, may I choose thine appellation?” Luna asked.

“Please, please do that. I have no idea, other than the blindingly obvious like Jet or Onyx or Obsidian or other Diamond Dog names,” Connie said.

“Nay, thou needest a name occult and sub rosa. Thy ears changed not, and thou hast seeming as rabbit. Lapine. Ah! Lapis! Dame Lapis. Dame Lapis Lazuli should full name be needed,” Luna said.

“Huh. I still ended up with a Diamond Dog name but one less on-the-snout. I like it,” Connie said, admiring herself in the mirror.

Luna took up position in front of the mirror, her horn glowing brightly. A sparkling wave enveloped her form, flashing slightly as it moved. It compacted her body slightly, changing her color to a pale pink, her mane and tail turning into a powder-blue tone, the mane settling into fluffy ringlets that fell around her face. Even her Cutie Mark altered, becoming a dark crescent moon beside a shepherd's cook. “And thus, behold ye, Lady Cynthia La Sombra. 'Tis not poor choice, the word was well known afore, the cruel tyrant did pervert a fine name.”

“Well now, let's go ahead and get dressed. It's all muted stuff, nothing too flashy or crazy but just right for where we're going. I made certain we were going to a really class establishment. It's only right for a bachelorette party, especially a double,” Lime said as she used her magic to flip through the racks.

Connie flipped through the clothes, quite unsure about everything. “I don't know what styles are fashionable, or what goes with my... me...” She said, looking lost.

“The wonderful trade secret of being rich and powerful is, you decide what's fashionable. There's no logic to it. You decide, every sycophantic suck-up copies it, and all the folks under them copy them because they think it's the new look,” Fleur said with a laugh. She picked out a red dress in a dark rose tone, with a texture that looked like the silky smoothness of a rose petal. The bell portion of the dress had folds and tucks that looked very like the head of a rose, while the portion above the waist was wrapped in green straps resembling rose stems, with flat protrusions along the bands suggesting thorns.

“And even if no one knows who we actually are, it's clear we're the upper levels. So you can look how you want,” Lime added, flipping through the racks. She pulled down a black and white checked dress, which was long and slinky, with a narrow bell and slits along the side that at the right angle could give views of her belly.

“I have concord with thee, Dame Connie. Little do I know of such things, for mine own styles be of a grander stripe, older and more august. I do chose only that which doth please me in some manner, yet know not if it be suited to mine image. But Dame Fleur doth speak good sooth. These scraping pickthanks would speak well of sailcloth and rags were they pitched on with hay fork to the body of a powerful pony,” Luna said with a shake of her head. She chose a simple cornflower sheath, but added a reddish, frilly corset.

“You know, I still don't know what to wear but I'll bet I can get away with most anything,” Connie said, looking through a few more selections. She finally settled on a black and white dress, one that was short, with puffy shoulders, short sleeves and an apron-like design to the front that recalled her maid attire.

“You really can. But in this case, that one really suits you,” Fleur said, having pulled her attire on.

The other three dressed swiftly, admiring themselves in the mirror. Luna's horn glowed dimly and she motioned to her sides. “Dames, to me. Now shall we convey ourselves to our conveyance, if my meaning be taken.”

“I thought we were going by carriage,” Connie said, looking to Fleur and Lime.

“We are. If I understand we're going to teleport to the carriage. That way no one will see us coming from the palace. Another way of hiding who we are,” Lime explained, as she trotted to Luna's side.

Once the others had gathered around Luna's horn flashed out brightly, wrapping the quartet with a field of dark purple magic, that collapsed in on itself and popped out of existence, leaving the spot empty. The field reappeared outside the palace on a quiet, dark, empty street.

“That was an experience,” Connie said, blinking and looking around.

“It feels the same no matter how far you go. She can get us all the way to Ponyville and back,” Lime noted. “But you finally heard both of those stories.”

“I still can't believe you repeatedly grabbed a filly to give her makeovers. At least she and her fillyfriend got together,” Connie said.

“Aye. Do we err most greatly when we err in service of good sans thought. But let that pass, my Dames. Come, our conveyance awaiteth our coming,” Luna said, leading the ladies around a corner.

Around the corner they found a very unique thing. Rather than a standard carriage pulled by the drivers they found a stretched aubergine-shaped electrothaumatic carriage with a single door in the back. Up front was a single small-breed green Diamond Dog female in a chauffeur’s cap. “A motor-driven carriage. Now that is class,” Fleur said with a nod.

“And the carriage shape was... specially chosen from a selection of vegetable and fruit shapes the company had available. I do hope it is to your liking, your majesty,” Lime said, with a saucy wink.

Luna let out a loud and robust laugh as she approached the vehicle. “Aye, aye, Dame Sauce. Thou hast thy ways... 'tis a grand jest! Come then, let us enter. 'Twill be th' only time when I shall enter aubergine and not th' reverse.”

As the women approached the Dog hopped out of the front, approaching the rear door. “Here for four ladies. Who is Dame Lemon? Have orders from them.”

“That would be I. I arranged this machine for the transport of Lady Cynthia La Sombra and retinue. This is her excellence and we are her companions. You have your destination?” Lime asked.

“Oh yes! Know way to go and can get there fast. But not too fast. Constables not like when vegetable goes fast,” the Dog said with a smile. She opened the door and bowed. “Come into carriage and we go.”

The four women piled into the back of the thing and looked around as the door closed. The inside of the aubergine-shaped carriage was decorated with stained hardwood, with cushy carpet in a purple tone, which continued over the soft seats. There was a single long one along the back, and several more along the sides by the windows. At the front there was a long window to show the driver as she got back behind the controls.

“This thing is great. It's even better than the carriage I had for my date,” Connie said. She then quickly looked nervous and gave a smile to Lime and Luna. “N-not that I mean to insult a royal carriage or your husband as guard and driver but this is... unique!”

“Calm thyself, 'tis no insult. We do maintain many traditional things in the palace. There be no issue with them and they need no change. But perhaps in future we may add to our store. We do keep airships now, why shall we not have these electrothaumatic devices as well?” Luna asked.

“I'll make a note of that and see about requisitioning an official carriage of similar type... with less 'suggestive' construction,” Lime said, stifling a giggle at the end.

“We go now?” The driver asked from the front.

“Aye, wagoner, hie thee onward to the location,” Luna cried from the back.

“Her excellence wants you to drive, and make all legal haste to get there,” Lime said quickly.

“Yes, pony ma'am,” The Dog barked happily, pressing the stones to activate the engine and get it driving the wheels. She pulled out onto the main street of the high terrace and used the main coach roads through the second down into the third. She pulled the aubergine into a carriage lot located in front of a very lovely building.

It recalled the clean, classic lines of the first terrace, with pillars and arches. The stone was not the white of the other buildings, but had been carefully dyed red, with a mosaic that spelled out the name of the business, highlighted by the powerful lights shining on it. 'Le Portal Rouge.' The dim sounds of thumping bass came from within, while a few ponies chattered softly as they stood in line. The door to the place, painted a darker red than the rest of the building, was guarded by an enormous red Dig Dog and a dark brown donkey jack.

The Dog chauffeur hopped out of the carriage and opened the door for the ladies, bowing as they exited. “Will wait here for you, ladies.”

Luna dropped a hundred-bit coin into the palm of the Dog. “Thank thee, kind servitor. A small gratuity for the cost of thy time. Thou shalt waste this precious night awaiting our return and must thou be recompensed for this tragic loss.”

“O-oh! Should work for funny-talking mares more!” The Dog squealed, dropping the coin into a pocket on her vest and then scrambling back to the front of the carriage.

“Your generosity is boundless, your majesty, and quite delightful to watch,” Lime commented as the four strode towards the line.

“Liberality be part and parcel with mine inner self, and they that serve that we may rest must needs be recompensed with all open-hoovedness, lest we be some lowly Randomoid,” Luna said grandly.

“That's a big line...” Connie said with some trepidation.

“Attitude, Dame Connie, attitude,” Fleur said, standing tall and proud. “Look like you should be there and you get right in.”

“You never went out with some of the other palace maids, but the uniform was enough to get us past lines. In outfits like these we're even better placed,” Lime noted.

“I've been a humble jenny all my life. I'm new to being a step away from a princess,” Connie said.

“And I'm from a low terrace. I got picked at random to be Princess Luna's maid. Just follow my lead. Trust me,” Lime said, lifting her head and looking very sure of herself. Connie copied the motion, but kept her ears back and down, sure something bad would happen.

The four moved past the line, Luna at the head, Lime just to her right, Fleur and Connie behind. They reached the head of the line and were confronted by the large bouncers at the door. “Not cut in line. Not polite,” The big Dig Dog wurfed.

“Arrangements were made in advance. You will see her excellence Lady Cynthia La Sombra and her three compatriots. Pre-paid and reserved,” Lime said confidently while Luna stood, imperious.

The donkey looked over a list and nodded to his fellow employee. “They're on the list and on time. They reserved in advance. We can let them in.”

The Dog pulled open the door with a smile creasing his jowly face. “Please enjoy show. Thank you for coming.”

The thumping bass barely heard outside washed over the four women as they strolled into the darkened club. Unlike the outside the inside was less classic. The place was indirectly lit by weak bulbs, occasional strobes and a few color-changing spotlights that swung around. The furnishings were more modern metal and glass, with small tables arrayed near the door, set with cushions and a few low stools. To the right there was a long bar, topped with clear plastic to show off glowing gems that provided a wonderful under-lighting. At the back of the room was a broad stage, with a catwalk extending forward from the middle. Four smaller stages, sized for a single performer, were placed amidst the tables, two on each side of the catwalk.

Luna laughed softly and pointed to the catwalk coming off the stage. “The catwalk doth not have the same meaning as it once did. In past times cat-walk was how the slatterns announced their 'wares', as 'twere. 'Twas a dark time when the prostitute was not a respectable mare.”

“Hard to imagine,” Fleur said. “But then again, no. It's still possible to be an ignoble prostitute. Base reasons cheapen the act. Like nobles who marry for money and status.”

“To speak of nobles...” Luna said, motioning discreetly towards one of the single performer stages. On the stage was a burly male Diamond Dog of the medium breed. His blue-toned coat was partially covered by a silk vest, which shimmered as he twirled and gyrated during the process of putting it on. He was dancing, seemingly, for a single patron, an older, slender unicorn mare who had a noble cast about her. She hid her yellow coat behind a drab gray dress and tried to hide her orange mane under a floppy hat. She held up a loin cloth and a kind of undergarment in a trembling magical aura.

“You majesty, is that...?” Lime started to ask.

“Aye, 'tis she. It doth seem the idle words were quick, and that over-puffed becco she doth call husband indeed be a mad ox, when he thinkest he be a mere golden calf. Omnia bene. Turnest thou away, my Dames. Let the Lady sport with her chosen in peace. In time she will choose that others may look,” Luna said, directing the other three to a table on the other side of the catwalk from the happening.

The lights at the main part of the stage went up, and an announcer's voice cut through the pounding bass rhythms. “Welcome, all, to Le Portal Rouge! You've seen the small-stage performers, you liked how they looked climbing into their clothes, now it's time for the headliners! And we have got a real treat for you tonight! Our first two performers come from distant lands to entice, excite and delight you all! So let us begin. First, the grand and inimitable Fionn mac Brennan O'Wedgetail!”

The crowd let out a cheer and stomping applause as the curtain in the back released a fine specimen of wedgetail griffin. His body was well-muscled, his lion coat shaggy and eagle's feathers ruffled and puffy, as could be the case with wedgetail griffins. He strutted along up the catwalk caught in the glare of several spotlights. He carried a bundle with him, and moved along to music played on bagpipes that replaced the electronic music that had been playing.

Once he reached the head of the catwalk he threw down the bundle and struck a grand pose. “Well! I certainly cain't go see the High King lookin' like this! Best ta get m'self ready...” He shouted to the crowd, his accent thick and voice rich. A few bits flew onto the stage as he reached into the bundle and pulled out a pair of blue hose. His talons were careful with the thin material, and he pulled each one languidly up his lion legs, never breaking the material and not puncturing the toes as he got them properly situated.

He shod himself next, with hard deer-leather shoes. He was slow about inserting his toes into the shoes, making sure he crossed the laces carefully and secured them onto his hose-covered lion paws in the traditional manner. His talons traced slowly up his dressed legs, more bits clattering onto the stage and more than a few lusty female voices crying out from the audience.

The next item out of the bundle was met with a loud chorus of cheers and whistles, as well as stomping applause. It was a kilt, in blue and green tartan, which was held up for all to see. Fionn looked it over and gave a sly grin. “That's quite a sporran. Hope the High King doesn't mind that I like to have a big one on me,” he said with a suggestive laugh. A small shower of bits fell on him and the stage as he pulled the skirt up his muscular legs, shaking his rump slowly, as though it was actually difficult to pull the material up.

“Oh, your majesty... I'm not sure if I should keep watching or not,” Connie said aside to Luna, watching as Fleur and Lime threw bits onto the stage. “I don't want to have unreal expectations when I ask Blueblood to slip on that cute tuxedo front and bow tie of his.”

“Dread naught, dear near-niece. This be but harmless expression of art,” Luna said, comfortingly stroking a hoof along Connie's mane. “They be naught more than terpsichorean artiste or thespian. We do watch them as they make a two-hour traffic of the stage, yet we turn our hooves home and are well satisfied with what we find, if my many meanings be known.” She dropped a wink at Connie and laughed.

Connie tried to hold in a chuckle but ended up snorting and giving a low bray as she failed. “I take your meanings, your majesty. I suppose it couldn't hurt to watch. Maybe I can suggest things to him.”

“Aye, aye, thou speakest good sooth. From art may thou takest means that thy life be brighter and greater. Surely mine nephew would not chafe at suggestions to make him please thee more. He hath hardly other thought in his mind than thy pleasure, as thou hast mind for his,” Luna said with a nod.

“It's true... guess I really should be paying attention,” Connie said, turning back to the catwalk.

The performance was all but over. After securing on his kilt, a dirk on one thigh, and wrapping long, scarf-like folds of tartan cloth on his upper body Fionn suavely slid a Tam o' Shanter onto his head and struck a pose, to the delight of the audience. “Now that is how a tercel dresses for the High King.” He turned on his shod heel, and marched smartly down the catwalk, singing to himself in time with the pipe music. “Hark when the night is falling, Hark, hear the pipes are calling, loudly and proudly calling, down thro' the glen...”

The stage light faded as the electronic music rose up again, only to be muted by the announcer's voice. “Well now! How was that? Get you good and charged up? I'll bet you want some more, am I right?” The question was answered by raucous cheers and stomping applause. “That's what I thought! Now for the next dose of dressing from a far-away land, we have for you Mbepin Kaptara!”

The stage lights went down and the spotlights went back up, shining on the body of a slender zebra stallion. His stripes were thin and plentiful, and his mane was in the mohawk style but long, and less bristly than most. He wore a small pair of spectacles and looked young enough to be a college student. He was carrying a collection of grass items on his back and strolled casually down the catwalk to Veldt drums and stringed instruments.

“There's still plenty of time to get to the party,” Mbepin said with a toss of his head and a sultry look at the appreciative crowd. “And I have the perfect outfit for a celebration...” He dropped the collection of items by rearing up and giving a few slow kicks of his front legs, showing off his long, smooth form.

“Somezebra's working his way through the Royal Canterlot University,” Lime noted with a grin and a toss of a bit. “Chemistry, or mathematics?” She asked across to Fleur.

“I don't know. The spectacles could be either yet he could be a non-scientific student. The Royal Canterlot University has more than just science classes. Maybe linguistics or literature,” Fleur responded, tossing her own bit.

Mbepin first wrapped plaited grass bands around his neck, securing them on with gold clasps until he had created a grass neck covering that extended all the way from shoulders to jawline, with a gold clasp line down one side. He pulled out four small rings of gold hung with dried grass that made a soft sound as they were moved. All four were opened by a catch and placed onto his ankles, the grass hanging down to cover his hooves.

He next held up what looked like a thin belt of grass. A red cloth hung from it, buttoned at two places with a semi-circular gap below it. The other end of the red cloth had buttons on it as well, which matched small buttonholes on that end. He reared up again and settled his chest against the pole at the end of the catwalk, amid cheers, whistles and stomping applause from the audience.

He dropped the garment on the ground and stepped into the ring slowly, making sure to swing his hips with each step. His body slowly dropped, one leg hooked around the pole for stability while his other reached down. His rear legs bent ever so slowly, until he could reach the ring and pull it up. His tail flicked a few times before sliding through the opening in the cloth under the ring.

He came back up, just as slowly, rubbing his chest against the pole while pulling the other end of the cloth up. He pulled it firm and tight against his crotch and up through the top of the ring. The very end of the cloth was folded over and buttoned in place, leaving him dressed in the tight-fitting cloth. “A bit snug. I think I need to see my tailor,” he said with a wink.

“One may wonder how the sartorially skilled maintain composure, being as they must tire and fit all manner of being all day long. It must take strong constitutions,” Luna huffed, flipping a few bits onto the stage.

“Trust me, your majesty. I work with tailors and seamstresses and all classes of designers. They get used to seeing folk dressing. They wouldn't come here, it would be like work. Now I just wear the outfits, I don't make and fit them so I can still enjoy seeing a stallion buttoning on a cloth,” Fleur said, whistling and cheering while tossing another bit up.

“I'm... from here in Canterlot. And I'm not really worldly, practicality has always been my thing. Do zebras actually wear something like that or is that just something the club invented? I don't want to look ignorant by cheering for something fake,” Connie said, much more sedately throwing a bit onto the stage.

“Aye, Dame Connie, 'tis true tiring of the veldtfolk. As I and my sister must keep peace 'twixt Griffin Kingdom and Grand Veldt it must needs be we know of traditions and common custom. Books that I have seen since my return show that, as 'twas more than a thousand years ago, such costuming remaineth in fashion. It be de rigeur 'mongst the traditional-minded and they who wish to be seen as wealthy or proper. Much as some ponies favor older cuts of clothing and listen to music made in or made in mock of earlier ages, zebras feel the same,” Luna explained.

“I just watch documentaries,” Fleur added. “They really do a lot of amazing fashion things with grass and gold.”

“I watch documentaries too, but I actually once asked Doctor Twilight Velvet about it. She's from the veldt,” Lime said.

Connie threw out a few more bits and gave an appreciative bray. “Then I think he deserves some cheers for all that dressing!”

Mbepin was nearly done with his attire. He had added a grass skirt over the secured loincloth, and several circlets made of stacked grass rings secured together with gold bands. He finished his attire off with a red cloth draped over his back, which hung down to just the level of his stomach on both sides. “And now, to head out to that party. They're all going to just love this outfit.” He slowly swayed and strutted his way down the catwalk to the sounds of the drums and strings, while the crowd continued to whistle and stomp and cheer for the performance.

“Whew! This was more than special,” Fleur said, slumping down on her cushion. “Two dressings from two exotic males. An amazing bachelorette party to say the least.”

“It's so many new experiences, all at once!” Connie cried out, giving a happy bray. “I can hardly wait to see what's next.”

“According to what I heard when I booked the night there's a special Colt Cuddler performance,” Lime said with a pop of her brows. “Two stallions, in love, dressing each other while they kiss and nuzzle. No word on what kind but it should be very alluring.”

“Aye, to see two so free and so in love, 'twould be greatly moving. Each kiss rich in meaning, each caress a testament to desire and adoration... and they placed clothing on, piece by piece that each may delight the other. It would near be improper to observe,” Luna said with a certain dreaminess. She winked and added, “Near...”

“Now, as you know, we open our stage to eager amateurs,” the announce said, causing the crowd to go silent. “If some stallion or other male wishes to try their luck at dressing, we're eager to oblige, especially if they have a good reason. We've seen proposals done in the middle of a performance, requests for a coffee date, and just plain making love stronger. That's what this is. These two fellows have been together for a while, and it's their anniversary!” The crowd cheered and stomped.

“So heartening that this crush of wights should be high-minded and accepting of the Colt-Cuddlers,” Luna said with a proud nod.

“I know, it's great! And an anniversary performance. Oh! I almost forget, I need to get my uncles a card, it's theirs... sometime. I got busy and I forgot to check the calendar,” Lime noted, tapping a hoof on the table.

“And not just any stallions! These are very special stallions! They come direct from Canterlot Palace!” The announcer cried, to further stomping applause.

“Canterlot Pa- wait... it... it can't be today...” Lime stammered, looking shocked and fearful. “It can't...”

“What can't?” Fleur asked, looking concerned.

“Two very handsome, and very loving, royal guards,” The announcer teased, earning a louder and lustier cheer.

“Oh... oh my...” Connie said, looking between the stage and Lime. “Oh it's... it's not possible...”

“Please give a big, loud Le Portal Rouge welcome to our happy anniversary couple, Cavalier Golden Stare and Miles Scutum Rosy Cranberry!” The Announcer shouted, as the curtain at the back parted.

The two indicated guards stepped out onto the stage, looking as they usually did, though sans armor. Golden had his usual confident, upright look, standing all and proud. His muscular body flexed grandly and his wings slowly opened to display his impressive span. His trademark golden eyes stared all around the room, but couldn't see much with the spotlights shining directly on him. Rosy was in his usual form, hunkered down slightly and standing right behind Golden. His dark blush had taken over both cheeks and threatened to overwhelm his neck and forehead. His slight figure hid the guard-trained muscles he had, making him resemble a twiggy model or graceful dancer. Still, he spread his wings out as well, to show the delicate preening and careful grooming of the feathers. Both of them shared the same mane-style, a close, tight buzzing of their guard-standard blue manes.

The two had golden armor on their backs, and marched slowly up the catwalk to the sound of a guard march played on drums and pipes, as well as the cheers of the audience. One reaching the front Golden turned to regard Rosy, his hard look growing soft. He leaned in to kiss the smaller stallion on the lips, and caress his cheek with a hoof. “Come on... let's get dressed for morning duty...”

Lime had been silent as her uncles were revealed by the parting curtain, save for a squeak of shock. Her eyes had been wide and a hoof over her mouth as they flexed, trembled and displayed their wings for all to see. She had started trembling when they trotted up the catwalk, the armor glinting in the spotlights with some significance. But when Golden spoke, her mind finally shattered, and she unleashed a soul-shaking, mind-tearing, ear-piercing wail of, “NO!”

The other three at the table couldn't help their reaction. They had sympathy, but the situation was simply too much. They all started to laugh uproariously as Golden and Rosy stared in stunned disbelief, and a dawning recognition of the incognito ladies. Security arrived in short order, but the quartet was already up and rushing for the door, Luna remembering to throw medium-value bits back at Golden and Rosy with a cry of, “And many happy more, ye grand guardians of a grand edifice! May ye ever be happy in the bosom of each others' love and adoration and may ye never want for any thing!”

The four spilled out of the door, practically stumbling over one another as they squeezed through the entrance. They fought their way past the line of folks still waiting to get in and made a mad dash for the aubergine vehicle waiting for them.

The Dog chauffeur seemed occupied with a book of some kind, and barely noticed their sudden arrival. She yelped and fumbled the book, trying to get control of it and get out of the machine at the same time. “Did not see! Just one moment, will open door!”

“Have done, wagoner! Concern thyself not with formalities and airs but activate the conveyance and bear us away to our origin with all due and legal haste!” Luna called out with a laughing tone and commanding wave of a hoof.

“Yes, kind pony lady! Going now,” The Dog cried, readjusting herself in her seat and putting her book, revealed to be a Harlequine Crossup novel, back into the glove compartment from whence it had come. She activated the engine, ground the gears just a bit and got the aubergine underway.

Luna, Fleur and Connie continued to laugh, while Lime blushed deeply and continued to shudder as she remembered what she had almost just seen. “I hope I can still get hot watching my husband dress. I so don't want to end up picturing my uncles while Dark is strutting his stuff and strapping on his barding.”

“I think everyone sees a family member doing something they feel might intrude on their future life,” Fleur said. “It passes.”

“Aye, 'tis so. Though mine own family be much reduced in scope from most it still doth include some ponies. Aside from witnessing sister donning her formal raiment, I did witness thy future husband applying his tuxedo front. 'Twas not mine intent,” Luna said to Connie.

“Don't worry, he's a bit sloppy about where he dresses, surprisingly enough. He's so fastidious about everything else, yet he dresses in the open, leaves most of his dishes just sitting around, and sometimes forgets to shut the bathroom door. It's not so bad when he's showering. That's... nice. But other times...” Connie trailed off with a laughing shiver.

“All partners have foibles. That's why we have each other,” Fleur noted sagely.

“Partners...” Luna whispered, growing suddenly serious. Her head dipped down slowly, false mane falling down over her eyes. “Indeed... have we all partners, and much sport do we make of thus. But thou, Dame Fleur, and thou, Dame Connie, shall ye trot the aisles and wed thy betrothed. Soon shall it be, all my dames shall we wed. The lights will be doused and the music box silences, and shall the teakettle ne'er again whistle 'mid our bawdy lines...”

The laughter and smiles all dropped from the faces of the other three ladies. “You majesty...” Lime said softly.

“Don't worry. This is all so new, and I missed out on some amazingly crazy things! Even being married I would never dare miss a thing. Even if it's just you and me, I'll be there!” Connie said, placing a reassuring hoof on Luna's own.

“And it won't just be the two of you,” Fleur asserted with a nod. “I will be happy, being wed to Fancy, but I still love all that this group did for me when I held out no hope for that. No friends in the upper class were ever this fun and frivolous. I'll be right there with you, having a good time.”

“I've been married this whole time. If you manage your romance times, arrange your schedule and make a personally executive decision to have fun with friends it's possible to do all the crazy, ridiculous things we do, even with a husband at home that wants to get intimate,” Lime noted.

“We'll be Dames forever, and separated never,” Connie said, ears lifting in happiness. “Hey, that's a good line. Let's print that on a plaque or something, hang it up in the room.”

Luna lifted her head up, a smile crossing her face, though tears still danced on the edges of her eyes. “Aye. Aye! Thou speakest good sooth indeed, mine impending niece. Change doth come and leave as the wheel turns. Let that pass. Let all sorrow pass and let us keep our order pure. In frivolity, bawdery, sorority and perpetuity!” Her horn glowed brightly, summoning a tray with a steaming teapot, four teacups, a bowl of sugar, a pot of honey and small container of milk. She lifted the teapot with her own hooves and poured out tea for everyone. “Let us partake, and pledge our fidelity to this august association.”

Lime and Fleur lifted their cups with magic, while Connie took hers up with a hoof. They toasted Luna, who returned the gesture, all of them taking a long, slow sip while the aubergine carriage drove on into the Canterlotian night.

The Moon and the Lily

Dames

Of The
Tea Table

By Gabriel LaVedier

The Moon And The Lily

Princess Luna was charged with hearing suits of all sorts. She was not only in the business of creatively and rather viciously rebuffing ill-conceived marriage suits (a skill for which she was becoming rather well-known) but also tasked with seeing that those that wished to gain the royal favor in some manner were served well and given at least passing consideration. Most were petty matters of petulance between two houses vying for the same sliver of land that mattered little in the size of their demesnes. Others were concerned with marriage suits that went wrong because of the ridiculously common habit of Canterlot nobles to flit about from bed to bed with shameless abandon, which most often left Luna an opportunity to use her best cornuto material on mares and stallions alike. They all wanted to argue and call down the decision of the royal seat like the wrath of the heavens. None had anything worthy of her attention, thus she had only venom.

During one long session of suits, she found herself faced down by a sad-eyed unicorn mare. She was a faded rose shade of white with a pinkish mane and a stripe the shade of her coat. On her flank, a trio of fleur-de-lis, uncovered by any overly fancy attire. She was unclothed, in fact, a rarity in the style-conscious Canterlot and more unknown in the notoriously showy court. Her smile was false but not affected. It was, in fact, the smile of one trying to spare others their heartache. She was, in all, unique, and promised to be much more than a mere complaining wretch come to make Luna like a haggard griffin.

“Welcome to our royal presence.” Luna’s words were soft, though still formal. She was caught off guard by a pony that, at last, seemed different. “Please state thy name and the nature of thy suit before this royal seat.”
The mare bowed deeply, formally, within the alabaster square in the receiving chamber. “My name is Fleur de Lis, your majesty. And I have come here because I… I have nowhere else to turn.”

“Explain thyself. What cause hath brought thee here to our seat?”

Fleur looked down nervously then looked back up again. “You know what the state of Canterlot society is. You’ve seen the vicious gossips and casual changing of beds… and when I wish to talk about my sorrow over a relationship, I already know that I will get advice about casual contact and loveless interaction. But I want love. From the one stallion I desire.”

Luna looked down incredulously, an eye-ridge up. She almost did not want to believe any mare in all of Canterlot’s rarified air could be filled with feeling like any other natural mare in the world. Any noble and privileged mare that could even make such a statement that spoke the truth so clearly… she deserved a response. “Thy words be true. All too true. How may we help thee with this matter? Thou hast said naught about what thou sleekest from our throne. We may not make this stallion love thee. We may not make the chattering nags and jades of Canterlot be silent.” And aside, to her green unicorn maid Lime Sherbert, “Much as we may have desired as much.”

“No, princess… I just want… I want somepony to talk to. One who might understand my troubles.” Fleur looked up with a sad shine in her eyes. "How much of your time can I take? I know you are very, very busy. I just need to talk.”

Luna thoughtfully stroked her chin, looking down on Fleur with even more incredulity. She couldn’t be entirely sure about this. But there was something in her earnestness. Just a small indicator that made her seem trustworthy. “Be thou needed in any pressing matters?” Before an answer came, she turned to Lime, “Please escort her to the private receiving room, with the low table and set it for tea, if thou wouldst be so kind.”

“As you wish, your majesty.” Lime bowed and moved out from beside the princess’ dais, sliding along to stand beside Fleur. “Please miss, come with me.” With a bow, she walked around behind the dais, to a rear door, with Fleur following along obediently.

Luna shook her head a bit. Perhaps it was a foolish thing. But she had so few distractions and so little to enjoy without… her accustomed distraction that she was willing to entertain this, even if it may have been little more than a jest on her. “Well then, come along then. Bring us our next suit! Let this tedium proceed as it must.”

In the back halls of the palace, Lime led Fleur along silently, trotting gently along the marble floors. She led the unicorn through the many twists and turns of the back rooms into a small, unassuming chamber. It was tastefully appointed, with hanging tapestries and polished parquet floors. There was nothing in the room save for a low cherry wood table, and a sideboard along one of the walls and a door located opposite from the entrance. “Please, miss, have a seat at the table. I will set it for you presently.” She went along to the sideboard and opened it up, taking out a tablecloth and quickly spreading it over the table.

“Th-thank you. Umm… what am I doing here?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, miss de Lis. But I obey her majesty with alacrity as she has been most generous with me and most kind to a simple chamber maid as me.” As she spoke, she laid out silverware before Fleur and at another spot at the table.

“Well, it looks like this will be very pleasant. I don’t want to be a bother. And I hope this isn’t just a polite way to tell me to deal with my problems on my own.”

“I’m sure it will not be so. Her majesty is a very generous and gracious soul, however it may seem to the average noble of Canterlot. They see her only when they vex her. And let me be frank, she is wonderful when she is vexatious to those that vex her.” Lime smiled brightly as she spoke, laying out small plates and a metal stand in the center of the table. “Her majesty does not normally invite those bringing suits to this place. So, you should feel privileged to have this opportunity.”

“Oh! I do! Believe me, I do. Any private audience with the princess is a great honor. I guess I’m just nervous about it. It’s a very big moment for me. I thought it was bad enough facing her with a suit.”

“Perhaps. I have been her majesty’s maid since she had returned to the palace. I have grown to be used to her presence. Her quirks are my normal experiences; her ways have become my ways through habit.” Lime went through the second door to reveal a small stone-walled area that looked very like a kitchen. She used her horn to light a fire on the metal stove. With a flash of her horn she filled a pot with water from the wall tap, and set it on the stove. “I hope you enjoy tea made of a particular blend her majesty has come to enjoy. Two parts pure Neighponese green tea, two parts white tea, one part apple-spice flavor concentrate. For this reason, no lemon or milk is allowed, only sugar.”

“That’s a strange choice of flavors. Oh, I know that Neighponese green tea is very popular in Canterlot, and white tea is growing in esteem. But apple? The upper crust frowns generally upon flavored teas. They leave those things to the lower classes. They considered it unrefined.”

“Her majesty does not hold that position; her tastes are her own. And her majesty’s personal tastes run towards apples. Oh!” Lime bobbled a ceramic teapot in the air, looking back with a rather worried expression. “M-meaning no improper implications on her majesty’s behalf, of course.”

“What?” Fleur looked over at Lime with a quizzical expression.

“I said nothing! Her majesty shall not be impugned on my watch!” Lime set to work with an almost manic will, measuring out portions of tea into a large tea strainer that fit into the teapot she almost dropped.

“I… well… I never implied anything…” Fleur looked just lost as she watched the scene unfold.

There was a long period of nothing following that exchange, with Fleur sitting at the table looking somewhat uncomfortable, and Lime carefully watching the water on the stove. The distracted focused caused both mares to look up in shock when the main doors opened to reveal Luna. “Our apologies for our unfortunate delay. We had many suits to dismiss with prejudice. Pah. Such trifles, such frivolities. Such ridiculous things to bring to our throne.”

“Your majesty! I-it wasn’t a long wait at all.” Fleur stood quickly and bowed to Luna.

“Your majesty has very excellent timing, as ever. The water is at the temperature you desire.” Lime snuffed the fire and levitated the pot of water, pouring it slowly into the teapot and over the tea strainer. The aroma of tea swiftly permeated the room. She levitated the pot to the table, placing it on the metal stand previously placed on the table. She also settled teacups upon the saucers and placed a cup of sugar cubes beside the teapot.

“It doth have a most sweet aroma, as ever. How I do miss the times when I may drink it daily with company lo-“ Luna looked aside and remembered that she was not only speaking with Lime. “That is to say we… do savor the fruits of thy brewing. Yes. Please, be seated, Madame gentlefilly, miss de Lis as we recall. Please elaborate upon the crisis, that we may bring thee such relief as may be within our power.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Fleur nodded slowly, taking a seat at the table where one of the cups was placed. “Well, I have a great desire for a stallion.”

“Such is the state of things. Stallions and mares make everypony mad sooner or later.” Lime snidely muttered to herself as she gingerly lifted the teapot and poured out a portion of tea for Luna and then one for Fleur. “Sugar?”

“We do not require sugar. The flavor suffices.”

“Oh, umm… one lump.” A single lump floated into the teacup, Fleur taking up her spoon with her telekinesis and stirring slowly.

“Thou hast great will to follow not fashion as all the others might.” Luna nodded solemnly, lifting the teacup to her lips and taking a ginger sip. “Ahhh, such savor. Such delight. ‘Tis the subtle savor of apple behind all the rest that maketh this truly worthy. Such pleasure in this… ah, but we… we speak too freely.”

“I said nothing, your majesty!” Lime looked about shiftily, quickly ducking into the other room to bring out a tray of cookies. “Tea cookie?”

“We are sufficed with our tea, but we thank thee.”

“Yes please. I’d enjoy one.” Fleur levitated along one of the cookies and took a light nibble.

“Do continue thy tale. Thou hast a great desire for one stallion, in defiance of the ways of thy fellows who care not for whichever flesh they seek.”

“I have… what I can only call a friend, named Fancy Pants. He looks at me as his plus-one…”

“How now? What be this new phrase thou sayest? We comprehend this not.”

“Well… when invitations come out for large parties, the invitation will often say the pony for which it is given plus one other. I am his continual plus-one. He never takes anypony but me. Yet… that is all. Never anything more.”

“We comprehend. Thou hast great affection for this stallion. Yet he doth not return the depth of the feelings. But we question why thou dost not follow the advice of thy fellows of Canterlot. ‘Tis the fashion of the aristocracy to dally in rotating beds such that we marvel they do not expel their bile regularly, for purposes besides weight management.” After a short consideration, Luna levitated several cookies from the tray and into a ring around her teacup. “We… require great intake to retain a figure most pleasing to our c- to our opinion.”

“I don’t want to. I never understood how they could… I just don’t want to. I want Fancy Pants! I know he’s the most eligible and popular stallion in Canterlot, the very picture of a gentlecolt and the cream of the crop in this town. He’s probably bedded more mares than he’s said hello to, and I’m being foolish. But I can’t help my feeling.”

Luna listened silently, gingerly nibbling on a cooking and taking small sips of her tea. As the telling went on she sipped less and less, nodding her head slowly. “We comprehend thy distress. Do not inquire as to the source of our comprehension; we may not discuss secrets of state. But know only that we feel thy hurts, though not as sharply. Tell us, young de Lis, hast thou had this Fancy Pants be thy bed-presser?”

Fleur looked quizzically at Luna. “Excuse me?”

“Hast thou participated in belly sports, intentioned or not?”

“I’m sorry your majesty…”

“Hast he taken his leap there? Tilted at thee and tupped thee? Run at the ring? Has he entered thy coney court? Does he serve thy necessary turns?”

Lime leaned in unobtrusively, whispering to Fleur, “Have you had sex with him?”

“Oh! Oh… well...” Fleur looked down a little bit.

“The modern day. No need to be ashamed of thy ways. Thou hast only to be honest. And we see by thy actions thou hast. Only once, or each time thou art his, as thou sayst, plus-one?”

“It’s not all the time. It’s when we go out and we’ve had an especially good night. I never refuse, though I suppose I should if I’m only going to be his plus-one.”

“He’s the sort of man that… HE is not. I suppose that’s the easiest way to think of it…” Lime whispered aside to Luna, just out of hearing level of Fleur.

“Thy words be true, my maid…” Luna replied, sotto voce. Slightly louder, she said, “So… the stallion of thy heart hath been placed out of thy reach by circumstance and the actions of his own will. Such be the heart of the creature, male. Such flighty and flitting creatures be they. Ay, ‘twas true when ‘twas spoken, caprice, thy name is stallion. Traipse they across the face of our land. No matter the goodness they may bring, we have needs of natural mare, and need not the solutions of mocked aubergines as our sister…” Luna continued to mutter to herself as she ate a cookie and drank her tea.

“Your majesty…” Lime leaned in gingerly attempted to bring attention to Fleur.

“Ah me, why must it be so delicious and make us seek this savor so often in futile longings that inflame the hot moist sanguine nature in our breast? This spring wind, sweet wind, doth move our liver as none other may.” Two more cookies went down Luna’s throat, along with the last of her tea.

“Your majesty…”

“We desire more tea, my maid. We require more comfort from this flavor.” Luna gobbled down several more cookies as the teapot was lifted by Lime and poured out.

“Your majesty! I think you have forgotten your guest and spoken quite a bit more broadly than you intended. Not… to speak out of my turn, of course, your majesty.”

Luna shook her head and looked across the table at the mare staring at her strangely. She took a short sip of tea and cleared her throat. “We… do not wish to make light of thy position. We have great feeling for thy position. We wish to state again we understand thy melancholy.”

“Thank you, your highness. I am not quite sure exactly what to think of any of this. I just need some advice. What can I do about Fancy Pants? It hurts me to be held so far away.”

“We have no words for thee, we fear. Our life hath not prepared us for thy question. But thou may vent thy spleen to us. We understand thy anger. Thou lovest but thou also desire more of thy stallion. He be faithful, in thy estimation?”

“Oh he’s remarkably asexual when we’re not out on the town. He’s charming, witty, well-liked and so very respected by the highest of the high in Canterlot’s social elite, those that are not in the rigid nobility. He was the one that elevated that charming Element Bearer to the upper echelons of society, as I’m sure you saw.”

“Yes, we were aware. He be a good stallion in such respects. And his faithfulness be to his eternal credit. Faithful stallions be the greatest bauble powerful mares may claim. Yes, their baubles be of a great value to we mares.” She laughed softly and took a sip of tea while Lime laughed politely behind her hoof and Fleur looked on with something like amused befuddlement, simply because she could see how much the other mares enjoyed it.

“Your majesty is very bawdy today, if I may speak out of my turn once more.”

“Thou mayest, my maid. Indeed, we do feel a certain wantonness this day. Perhaps our memories of tilting be too fresh.” Luna shook her head and looked to Fleur. “What may we do to help thee? Thou art the last honest mare that remain in all of Canterlot, in love with the last honest stallion that think but little of thee.”

Fleur nibbled softly at her cookie, and sipped at the tea. It was still very odd. But there was something nice about it. Relaxing. Comforting. Familiar. “I don’t know. I want to talk to somepony about it. But none of the glamour ponies understand. They just keep telling me to sleep with a servant or a waiter or a pool pony or something similar.”

Luna gobbled another cookie, shaking her head and sipping her tea once more. “Fie. Has our land changed not these many centuries? We expected a grand new world when we returned from our exile, and what find we? These same bawds and panders as we left behind. Foolish age, that thinks thy knaves and rapscallions be merely tales locked in dusty tomes. Nay, they be all about thee, though locked primarily in Canterlot, incapable of harming the innocent, by and large. Phewt.”

Lime gingerly poured more tea and provided more cookies to Luna. “Your majesty should not let such things bother you. The state of our world is as it is. We may only comment and move on with our lives. I know I am well pleased with my life.”

“Well! Thou art well pleased with thy life because thou art joined in matrimony to a fine stallion. As we have known well.” She spoke to Fleur with a small nod. “He is a member of my guard crops, moved up from general palace guardianship. There be no shame in merit AND politic.” She laughed musically and looked to Lime again. “And thou hast confided that his bauble be of great proportions. And how wanton of thee, to take the produce of a Pegasus garden into thy well-tended unicorn field.”

“Ah! P-princess!”

Fleur smiled a bit and took a slow sip of tea. This was very pleasant. She could finally feel calm and relaxed, forgetting her troubles with Fancy Pants. “You know… I find this quite pleasant. I’m no closer to knowing what to do about my problem, but… right now I don’t really care.”

“Indeed… we have not felt the ire and wrath we feel from other times of tending to our necessary suits. Our spleen be not heated with choler as in other times. It takes our maid many more hours and pots of tea. No offence to thy efforts, miss Sherbert, but discussing troubles be the best manner of reducing them. Shared troubles be lightly carried.”

“I understand, your majesty. My life is… very different from yours. I have a husband. I can see him freely.” She looked sadly down and started cleaning up the small kitchen area.

Luna stroked her chin with her hoof, watching Lime work. “Miss Sherbert… please bring a third cup and saucer for thyself. We desire the speech of a married mare. We mares without steady coupling have need of the words of a mare who hath finished the game of courtship and may rest upon her laurels while we envy.”

“Oh your majesty! It would be a great pleasure!” Lime levitated a cup and saucer to the table, pouring a full cup for herself and setting down a few cookies.

“Should I go now and leave you to this?” Fleur slowly stood up and began walking away from the table.

“Stay thy hooves. We have need of thy camaraderie. That is to say… I have need of thy camaraderie. My necessary duties be tedious and peevish. At close of day I need someone with whom I may commiserate. And together with my maid, we may make many cheery jests about those stallions we may see, whose looks we like going in both directions.” Luna laughed softly and sipped at her tea.

“Oh your majesty, how very bawdy. What about..?”

“Tush! This wantonness be innocent. I know the matters of the heart well enough and know that w… miss de Lis is an innocent heart that seeks a single goal, as a sagitus drawing on a ring. But what harm be there in being so free? So long as we look and speak and do not touch. Besides, perhaps in all our speech at this table we may find a solution to this trouble. Even if we do not, we will ALL be entertained. What sayest thou, faithful maid? Wilt thou be party to our frivolity?”

Lime took a sip of tea and sighed slowly, nodding a bit. “But of course your majesty! I would be delighted to be party to this kind of silliness. I have so few chances during the day. And all my other friends want to out clubbing and such.”

“How now? They would go out to strike objects with clubs? What strange new pastimes have come of the servant class in these modern days. ‘Tis not what one would expect of gentlefillies and gentlecolts whose role nears courtly refinement.”

“Oh no, your highness! “Clubbing” means to dress up nicely, or at least fashionably, and go out to nightclubs to dance, drink, meet ponies and occasionally find partners for meaningless encounters in the bedroom. Or restroom if they don’t want to wait.”

“Urgh! The pestilence spreads from the head downward, the excesses and carnality of the upper classes infecting those below. Such a terrible thing. I presume you do not hold with such as they.”

“I’ve been out to some of the clubs. Heard some nice tunes and such in there. DJ P0n-3 is pretty good. She makes some good music and has done some excellent duets with an electronic-cello-playing Octavia from the Royal Canterlot Quartet. But, all I do there is nurse a drink at the bar and watch my friends dancing like idiots and occasionally talking to total strangers and trying to score a partner.” Lime sipped at her tea and took up a slightly relaxed position.

“I know the Royal Canterlot Orchestra! They get hired a lot by the upper crust. So I’ve heard Octavia playing while nursing drinks at a bar, with Fancy Pants, while watching the other glamor ponies seeking new partners for the night.” Fleur was looking very comfortable leaning on the table and giving a small raise of her teacup to Lime.

Luna nodded slowly, taking a long, slow sip of her tea as her eyes passed between Fleur and Lime. “Wonderful. I see this be a most able organization which has been assembled. I declare this order to be most wonderful. And formally do create and designate this august assembly with all rights and titles.” Luna lifted the teapot with her telekinesis and lightly tapped Fleur and Lime on the horn with the teapot’s spout. “Thus I do dub this notable assembly Dames of the Tea Table.”

To be continued…

Sexless in the city

Dames

Of The
Tea Table

By Gabriel LaVedier

Sexless in the city

The week after the establishment of the Dames of the Tea Table, the three members were back into a reasonable rut as they had been before. Luna stayed out of the limelight and simply walked around the background of Canterlot, not interacting with anypony save for her maid. Lime Sherbert, for her part, worked hard, keeping the princess’ chamber clean, her bed straightened and her body fed. Fleur did all she could to tag along with Fancy Pants, being around him, doing all he wanted, though with never any indication he was trying to take advantage of her.

Nothing was unusual at all, as Fleur went home to her apartment. She lived in the second terrace, the home of the landed gentry and other non-peers of high monetary value. Fleur herself had a trust fund of significant size and was the eldest daughter of a landed Baronet that made money from collecting on rents as others did.

Her home was a third-story walkup in a beautiful marble building, polished to gleaming perfection, though not as ostentatious as the grand and glittering creations on the first terrace. Her home was made of teak midway up the walls and granite beyond that, with cream carpet. All of her furniture was in cream and white: a large couch, a smaller loveseat, a chair, a coffee table, side table and large television, as was the standard for rich ponies. Her apartment had two rooms outside of the main room, a large bathroom, small dining area with an intimate rosewood table and low cushioned stools and a full though cramped kitchen.

She sighed softly while shuffling through the mail that had been in her box. Meaningless bills that would be paid automatically by her money managers; pro forma responses to pro forma letters of greeting and thanks for party attendance; and a single large letter. The envelope was heavy high-cloth paper, with gilt lettering announcing “Miss Fleur de Lis.” Inside the envelope was a heavy-bond paper note, decorated with beautiful floral filigrees around the border, like an illuminated manuscript. The lettering was heavy, curled and black, outlined in gold. Though the script was archaic, the message was clear enough. “The presence of Dame Fleur de Lis is requested at the castle of Canterlot in three days’ time for a formal gathering of the most august and secret convocation, a gathering of the Dames of the Tea Table. Attire optional, sweetmeats graciously appreciated.”

Fleur smiled as she ran her hoof over the message, another hoof tapping at her chin. She set the letter down by a small collection of photographs, all of them of Fancy Pants and herself. She took up one of the photographs and smiled at it, lightly giving it a little kiss. “I’ll figure out something to do about you sooner or later. Until then, I have this.”

“Will you be taking any suits this day, your majesty?” Lime slowly strode beside Luna, a pace behind her head’s forward level and two body-widths away. She was attired in her usual black-and-white maid outfit, with black net stockings and soft cloth shoes, all the mark of a higher-ranking maid in the palace.

“Nay, my maid. Why would I need to face such horrid aggravation? My humour be not suited to such, and my sister hath agreed to take on any serious responsibilities that may arise. Just as when the holder of my most beloved aubergine in nature arrives in our palace and I am allowed to take all my time to lie abed, as well THOU knowest.”

“Yes… delay the tidying and change the sheets. Twice a day. Three times if needed.” Lime shook her head with a smile on her face. “The letter was sent out as you requested your majesty. The third of our Order will arrive at… some point during the day. I have already instructed the gate guards to escort her to the proper receiving chamber upon her arrival and to have your majesty summoned immediately.”

“Excellent. Most excellent. Yes. I have been considering this since the last conclave arrived and departed with such base informality. As seen in other organizations, rites and rituals must be brought to the fore. Thus I have been contemplating such things, concocting the proper actions and activities to be performed that would truly mark our august organization and display its purposes and constitution.”

“Oh majesty. It sounds so… formal and mysterious. Will this become like some sort of secret society, like the ones I read about in those magazines I swear I only look at when I’m on line at the market?”

“Oh nay, nay my maid. ‘Tis naught so occult as such. Our Order has grandeur inherent in it. Our ways and actions must reflect as much. Thus, I have been endeavoring to concoct the proper activities and intonations to show it, though we three be the sole ponies to hear or see such things.”

“I do so admire your dedication to this activity and the serious focus you put on something.”

“Ah, my maid, when the garden is bare of its most precious fruit and the soil lies fallow, awaiting the rough stroke of the porphyric plow, I have naught but time to spend on whatever trivialities I may. ‘Tis why I take the suits I do. Truly, they madden me. Yet, they let the minutes and hours tick past. Tempus fugit when some noble opes their maw to disgorge some triviality. Thusly I find this grand activity diverting and good for the soul, and so I put in as much of mine heart as I am able, to bring it greatness. Should it grow enough, perhaps I need never feel so in need of diversion.”

“Good for the mind and soul. I rather like how this organization is working, and we’ve only met once!” Lime nodded her head with a smile. “May I see what your majesty has created in the name of this noble organization?”

“But of course! Thou wilt be required to know such and repeat such at the opening of our session. Thou wilt find such activities most diverting, as thou hast the humour. Thou art most sanguine, in all the best meanings of such. Come to the chamber, I have brought all my writings and creations. Thou must be prepared that we may both teach the third of our number to perform thus.”

As the two of them walked on to the room, Fleur appeared at the front of the palace, balancing a tray on her back, containing gourmet sweets. She faced the guards and smiled, showing off the envelope she had received containing her name. “Hello there, Fleur de Lis here to…”

“Yes, yes. Princess Luna is expecting you.” The slightly larger guard nodded his head quickly, regarding Fleur with piercing golden eyes.

“We have been instructed to lead you on to meet her. Please follow us.” The other guard was slimmer, more lanky, with the hint of a blush running over his cheeks even without anything to create it.

Fleur followed the two guards through the palace, pausing only as they informed a third guard that she had arrived; they turned quickly from the main halls to the maze-like collection of corridors that led to the various private chambers. She was directed through the passages until she finally arrived at the chamber she had been at previously. “Thank you, gentlecolts.”

“We serve Princess Celestia, but she personally informed us of this and we are honored to serve.” The bulky one bowed grandly.

“Besides, we rather like Princess Luna too. Life’s all ‘go’ around here. If she isn’t cutting ponies down to size she’s having… oh!” The slender one blushed dark cranberry and turned away quickly. “Enjoy your stay at the castle, miss!”

“Cranberry! Ugh… Yes, enjoy your stay, miss de Lis.” With that, the other guard took off after the first.

Fleur looked back at the retreating guards, head tilted, a quizzical look on her face. She then shrugged and opened the door. Within, the table was set for tea, with two steaming pots of tea, a small tray of cookies, and Luna and Lime sitting around. Both were dressed in dark hooded cloaks, with papers beside their teacups and saucers.

The door slammed shut behind Fleur and was sealed with a magical ward. A third cloak levitated out and was slipped over Fleur’s head.

"Welcome to thee, third of our order and completion of the most secret and mystic enumeration. The triangle circle be complete and whole. Now may we begin the ritual, that it may grant our convocation respectability and honor."

"What?" Fleur slowly approached the table, to an empty place with a cup, saucer and pile of papers. "What's going on?"

Luna levitated the papers before Fleur and magically highlighted a portion, third down on the page. "Await thy moment, and listen to what will be intoned." That said, the princess took a deep breath, her horn glowing and summoning music from the air. Jaunty folk music. "I hath got mine aubergine, what need have I for more, for more, what need have I for more? For I gobble, gobble, gobble mine aubergine, what need have I for more?"

Lime suddenly burst out in song, just as strong and fearless as the princess. "I have got a zucchini, what need have I for more, for more, what need have I for more? For I gobble, gobble, gobble my zucchini, what need have I for more?"

Both mares looked expectantly toward Fleur, who desperately looked down at the sheet. After the lyrics of what had been sung, there was only the notation, 'Insert the "fruit" of thy lover as thou singest.' She drew in a deep breath and gamely sang out, "I have got my butternut, what need have I for more, for more, what need have I for more? For I... I... I gobble, gobble, gobble my butternut, what need have I for more?"

Luna lifted her head and slid the hood off of her head. She smiled and nodded to the other mares. "Well met, my fellow Dames. I welcome thee, Dame de Lis, and I hope thy trip to this convocation was not too troublesome. And I thank thee as well for these sweetmeats." She levitated the tray of gourmet treats to the table and uncovered them. "How fine! The finest morsels of the upper crust. One of the few good things they have produced."

"You came around just in time. The tea is good and warm." Lime poured out three cups and distributed them around the table. "Those DO look good. I've had similar many times, but only because palace staff get the surplus of food after formal meals. That's one reason I love it when there is a... visitation."

"I can't get enough of these. You have no idea how much work it takes to keep this Celestia-like figure. Ahh, the fashion of power." Fleur levitated a small raspberry-sauced pastry to her mouth and nibbled gingerly on it.

"'Twas not always so, Dame de Lis. The sometime style, a thousand years afore, wast reflected in the old name of the fine ponies. Popolo Grasso. The fat populace. In those days, only the wealthy and privileged could afford to truly grow fat, as they ate much and worked little. Rump-fed wretches. They give those of thicker figure a poor name. How curious and ironic. In this new age these new stallions and mares starve themselves for naught, and country ponies now resemble these old ponies. I am unashamed of mine own thickness. Not only am I proper in mine own shape, but this thickness be preferential to... the gardener whom doth tend my field. Yes... the gardener with a porphyric plow."

"He's the one that grows those really big... eggplants, isn't that right, your majesty?" Lime sipped her tea and nibbled on a cookie. "And what did you say once? His honeycrisps are also especially well-grown?"

"Aye, aye, Dame Sauce. But mind thy tongue and beware lest thou should speak beyond thy level and state what must needs be silent." Luna waved a hoof and sipped her tea with a thoughtful look. "I may as well speak of thine own gardener. Thou didst say thou had chosen the noble zucchini, not merely for thy preferential savor but also as the flesh of the zucchini be dark as pitch, and thou hast a great hunger for such MEAT as thus. Dost thou enjoy the contrast, as his gleaming pelt roughly works thy field with a pure-made cold-iron tool? Sweat drips and breath pants, the soil is tilled and run under until..."

"Your majesty!" Lime dropped her teacup, but from only a small height, clattering it on the saucer and spilling only a little tea. "I do apologize for my loose tongue. But that seemed hardly fair." She cleared her throat and adjusted her sitting position, surreptitiously fanning herself with a hoof.

"I almost feel left out. I wish I knew what was going on." Fleur sipped her tea with a small smile on her face, as if to indicate she had an inkling about some of the broad strokes.

"Tch and tush, Dame de Lis. Fancy thyself not so innocent. Thou art no blushing new filly on the cusp of thy marehood. Thou beest a grown mare, ripe in thy fruitfulness, and having had thine own encounters with what may be surmised a butternut of some species. Thou hast seen thy land used well and often, so long as thou art the plus-one of thy tender. Presume not that thy novelty protects thee from our scrutiny and our wit. Be this not so, Dame Sherbert?"

"Yes indeed, your majesty. We're just very used to one another. But you aren't immune. We're only here because of you after all. Well, you and the tea. And the treats. That reminds me..." Lime levitated one of the small morsels, chomping it with great hunger and passion. "Forgive my lack of manners. But this is how we did it back down on the lower terraces."

"Yes, I did forget thou wert birthed and reared in the lower terraces, though thy family wast connected to this palace. Thy uncle did right by thee to get thee thy position sweeping. And now witness thyself, see how thy position hath changed. And not merely thy stance beneath thy husband." Luna laughed heartily and gamely gobbled down a sweet morsel as Lime had done.

"It must have been really interesting down there." Fleur politely passed the gag on Lime's husband and pushed on with actual conversation. "I live on the second terrace because my father is a Baronet, just enough to be rich but not a peer like the first-terracers. Nice place but I haven't been far below. I really wish I could experience what I've been missing. All the parties were first and second exclusive, if not in the palace itself. I've heard the clubs are very interesting."

"They're not as fancy as the ones up in first and second but they're kind of fun. I've been out there with some of the ponies from the palace; they like to "slum it" down in terraces I've been around before."

""Slum"? Thy supposed friends doth have a most curious comprehension of thy home terrace. Surely 'tis no slum and such speech be a grave insult! Tell me of these ponies that I may smite them with great slices of mine eely member!"

"N-no, your majesty!" Lime quickly waved her hooves with a somewhat panicked look. "That's not what they mean. It's more of our modern slang, like 'clubbing.' It means for ponies of higher station to go to a place that's lower than that normal station. For example, when hereditary peers go to the second terrace to the shops or such things they say they are 'slumming it' because that's a step downward for them. And palace workers, well... they have a pretty high estimation of themselves, with good reason. We are here, inside the palace of Canterlot, something not even the majority of the nobility can claim, and certainly not so often or for so long. They often get free passes into second-terrace clubs when they show their palace uniforms. And on lower levels, they never even have to see the wrong side of a velvet rope. They are EAGERLY shoved inside."

"Pah. Vanity. Caprice. Status. Such cheap trinkets sought by the majority of ponies. And how they use thee so basely! Seeking to steal thy notability and position to increase the standing of whichever tavern thou hast chosen. Such naked policy." Luna munched a cookie, and guzzled her tea, looking quite stern and serious.

"I still say I would dearly love to see one of those exciting, flashy clubs down below the second terrace." Fleur quickly cut in, attempting to defuse Luna's anger. "I wouldn't even see it as slumming. I'd see it as seeing something truly new and exciting. It would be a whole new thing! And that just might get my mind off of Fancy Pants. At least for a while."

Luna gained a very thoughtful look, taking a more measured sip from her cup, nibbling thoughtfully on a cookie and an apple pastry bite, at the same time. "Thine idea doth have great merit, Dame de Lis. Why should we three vital, quick ladies of fine taste and breeding be confined to this single room? Let us away, then, to these lower terraces. Indeed, I too have a desire to experience this 'clubbing' that doth exist sans heavy sticks and battery."

"This sounds perfect! There is only one problem. I think the bouncers at the clubs would notice that we are traveling with Princess Luna, the goddess of the night and co-ruler of the Principality. We'd hardly have a good time being mobbed by ponies and the paparazzi." Fleur stroked her chin thoughtfully as she regarded Luna.

"Cavallino or no, small midges be hardly distraction to sufficiently wise gentlefillies as we. Come then, let us devise some clever ploy; we be all wits and not wittols, so far as we three know. But CERTAINLY let that pass. We may trust fidelity. Come then, think!"

Lime was the first one to speak, clopping her hoof firmly on the table. "A disguise! Of course, it's brilliant!"

"A disguise? Well, certainly makeup artists can work miracles with tones and highlights and with a big enough cloak you can hide your Cutie Mark and shape. But it all only goes so far for a famous mare with an ethereal mane and tail."

"Oh, her majesty can do SO much more than that. She has capacities beyond even the most talented unicorns. Observe."

Luna posed dramatically, her horn glowing brightly. A sparkling wave enveloped her body, compacting her body slightly, changing her color to a pale pink, her mane and tail turning into a powder-blue tone, and settling into fluffy ringlets falling around her face. Even her Cutie Mark altered, becoming a dark crescent moon beside a shepherd's crook. She stood there, seeming to ask for comments. "Doth it not suit the royal shape?"

Fleur looked on with a slack-jawed expression, casting her eyes disbelievingly up and down along Luna's new form. In stature and shape her very much resembled Fleur; they could have been twins. There was another great change: She had no wings. They had been pulled in or hidden somehow, leaving her an ordinary unicorn. "Goodness... that's quite remarkable."

"Pah, 'tis but a trifle, a tiny bit of magical contrivance made to preserve mine identity when I wish to move about unmolested. Only the most sensitive of mages may even detect mine elegant subterfuge, and then may not know what manner of magical glamour I have applied. In this borrowed shape, I am inviolable."

"The problem is, we can't just go around calling your majesty "Luna." A bit too on the nose. Someone's bound to pick up something." Lime examined the disguised princess with a nod, tapping her hoof lightly on the floor.

"Thy words be true. 'Tis not to mine advantage to be known by my proper name. Perhaps... perhaps Selene! Oh nay... Too simple. Too direct. Perhaps... Ishtar! Oh nay indeed. Goddess of the night so they thought her but so many things did she do beyond mere shepherding of the moon and stars." She looked back at her Cutie Mark and smiled, as though connecting what she had just said to a thought. "Of course. Cynthia."

Fleur tilted her head lightly. "How did that name come about?"

"There's an old play about the moon goddess Cynthia falling in love with the shepherd Endymion. Now, that play ended with the two unable to bridge the social gap, which is why I wonder why her majesty has chosen to emulate such a tragedy..."

"'Tis a comedy, as well thou know'st. Thou hast sat through many a private performance. 'Tis true, that relation dost not bloom. But... let that pass, let that pass. It suffices that the story be one I know well, and that MINE Endymion hath naught to fear from the sharp divide. Very well. I am thusly named Cynthia. I have come from the first terrace, Lady Cynthia of a house that need not be named. That doth explain how I know a most elegant mare and a chambermaid of the palace."

"Sounds perfectly reasonable. But... what about the diction? I have heard some of the finer ponies speaking in tones like that, but not often. And it sounds out of place on the lower terraces." Fleur tapped her hoof lightly on the table, finish off the last of her tea.

"Pah! I find that such speech is like spices to the ears of these modern ponies. It makes one sound cultured and most greatly advanced. But be that as it may, I have been practicing the many tongues of the times of history, thus I may sprinkle proper terms into mine excellent speech. Very well, let us go then to have a little hooch at the gin-joint, my bearcats. Let us hope we do not get into some kind of donnybrook." Luna-as-Cynthia smiled, looking proud of her temporally-confused slang.

Fleur and Lime just looked at one another, not certain what to say. Lime broke the silence with a smile and a game, "Well, let's be off."

"Halt!" Luna's voice boomed loudly, held inside the room by her magical warding. "Raise thy hoods. Let us leave this chamber with a proper chant. Find it on the next page of thy notations."

The three ladies raised their hoods over their heads, looking properly mysterious and intimidating. The three lifted their heads, holding up their papers as they chanted, "Then up she rose and donn'd her clothes,/ And dupp'd the chamber-door;/ Let in the colt, that out a pure/ Never departed more." (*)

Not much longer after the final chant of conclusion, and a quick cleanup, the three mares parted company, to dress and return to each other that they might travel down the terraces together in style, in a carriage hired by Lime, and paid by the alleged Cynthia. Lime opted for what she already had on. She was unashamed of her maid's attire; on the contrary, she was proud of the status of which it spoke. Fleur, who normally went about unclad because of the elegant simplicity she felt it displayed (and because it showed off her hard-won figure), had opted for something simple and understated. It was a pale pink dress that hugged her figure beautifully and set off the colors of her mane and tail.

Cynthia was the last to be dressed and appear. Having no practical experience with fashions for all the time between her banishment and the present, her choice was a comforting throwback to a time which made sense to her, and, additionally, one that Lime knew excited her choice in stallion. It was dark red, a muted shade, at least on the outer shell of fabric. The core, revealed at the chest down, was the color of properly-aged parchment, which managed to look somehow elegant. The middle was laced up lightly, a corset that did not compress but enhanced the thickness present on her body. Atop her head was a circular hat, floppy and slightly creased, like a giant beret that had been allowed to swell and deflate, also in dark red. There was an additional accessory, but the other two talked her out of the ruffled collar.

The three ladies prepared, they took their hired carriage from a location near Fleur's home down the pathways of Canterlot to the fifth terrace. As the scale of notability and affordability slid down, the surroundings grew less "enchanted nobility" and more "big city square." The profusion of high apartment blocks and neon-lit clubs reminded those passing through of nothing so much as Manehattan.

The carriage deposited the three dressed-to-thrill mares outside one of said neon-bedecked clubs. The buzzing, multi-hued collection of tubes proclaimed the place to be named Electric Buzz. There was a small queue of ponies, and others, stretching along the sidewalk, waiting for assessment behind a velvet rope guarded by a rather large, burly unicorn stallion. Bass thumped heavily from inside the club, the rest of the music screaming out each time the door opened, announcing that the pony in question had been admitted.

"Ok, there's a certain order to these kinds of things. Don't think ill of me or my friends. This is just how it goes around here. We're going to get out of the carriage and walk to the front. It's kind of expected of those that look like us. We flash a smile and show a little foreleg and the bouncer lets us in. There may or may not be free drinks at the bar waiting for us. Don't mind what they give you. It's neon, glowing and made mostly of fruit and hard liquor. But don't take anything from somepony else. Or someone else. Taking it means they have the right to harass you all night." Lime enumerated the rules as the three prepared themselves to leave the enclosed carriage.

With a nod from the other mares all three stepped down from the carriage, drawing a soft gasp from some of the denizens of the queue. They sauntered slowly to the door, looking supremely confident and exuding an aura of belonging, despite the incongruity of the place and their attire. However, that was not considered a problem as far as the bouncer was concerned. He saw them approach and swiftly allowed them in, getting a smile from the trio for his trouble. He smiled back, but quickly scowled again on hearing complaints from the ones at the front of the line. Somepony was looking to be rejected outright.

Inside the club was dim, with flashing lights and swirling strobes of all colors. Lime found it rather standard; Fleur found it amazing; and Cynthia found it almost overpowering. Her poor, precious night, reduced to this! Just as she had told her Gala companion so long ago.

The three approached the bar, finding a smiling electric blue unicorn stallion with a bright yellow mane and tail. He had three drinks lined up, all of them the most unearthly shade of glowing green. "Fillies! Compliments of the management! We just wanna thank you for giving our little place a good touch of class."

Cynthia was the one that fielded that one, winking to her compatriots and saying, "Thank you kindly, pally. My muffins and I really like your little juice joint and I'm sure this giggle water will be the bee's knees."

The bartender, Fleur and Lime all looked completely nonplussed. Fleur recovered first and laughed musically. "Well isn't that simply droll? Our dear friend has opted to make a game of verbiage! I think we can all understand her. So let us take these drinks to a table. Thank you very kindly for this generous gesture." With that, the drinks were levitated and borne away, the bartender still looking as though somepony had punched him in the cerebellum.

Once settled at a table Cynthia gave a broad, proud smile. "Huzzah! I do believe we have successfully hoodwinked the tapster. How fortuitous that my studies of modern language have paid such rich dividends so soon! Truly I am well pleased."

Lime smiled and toasted with her drink. "Indeed your maj... err, Cynthia. Indeed. You have mastered the language you have studied." She took a quick sip and contemplated. "The freebies are good tonight. I doubt one could hurt. More than that and you're looking at a case of severe 'probably going to wake up with a warrant for your arrest.'"

"Mmm, mine aubergine doth serve warrants for pay. Mayhaps I would fall into his clutches and enjoy being the Wild Mare."

"How exciting! A bounty hunter. Why that seems just below Treasure Hunter on the list of dramatic and exciting careers for a stallion or mare. Not that I dislike Fancy Pants' own occupation. But it makes for most excellent fantasy."

"Sounds like somepony likes to lay around reading Harlequine Romance Novels and tap out dit-dah code." Lime smiled cheekily at Fleur and sipped her glowing glass.

"This code be known to me. I saw it in reports on rising technology. But how doth it meet with the royal court jesters and stories of their chivalrous deeds and dalliances?"

Lime smirked, feeling, at last, like she had the upper hoof. "Our slang may not be as rich and diverse or involve as many languages but it can turn a phrase. When a mare... handles her own excitement there is rubbing and some measure of tapping. Because it looks like sending a message they call it that. As for the Harlequine, well... that's the name of a big publishing company that puts out cheap, trashy novels about 'romance' in the loosest sense of the word. It's classy smut for stallions and mares too nervous to buy Playmare or Stablecolt. There's usually some wild adventure between scenes of intercourse. And that new line of theirs, Harlequine Crossups, is made explicitly for pony and non-pony stuff. They used to have it in the regular ones, the odd griffin or donkey or zebra, but this is explicitly for that. They even started using Diamond Dogs and Buffalo."

"Most fascinating! Most fascinating indeed. To think such is considered so scandalous. In my own day such dalliances met with official approval. After all, we have hybridized many of the population. I did give fertility to many couples. Perhaps those who worshipped Ishtar were well aware of what I would do... ah but let that pass. But society hath never been fair. Even in this day there are those that trust not these vital members of our lands. What good doth this do? Pah! A pox on such hatred. The right honorable and well-honored Ponyville-Adjacent Everfree Nightwatch contains Constable Clear Facet and his love the Diamond Dog Emerald, now Emerald Facet. And a buffalo maiden by name of Little Strongheart hath been legally bonded to one Braeburn Apple. By all tales 'twas a most beautiful nuptial. And by the rights this union doth make them... oh but I do speak too freely. This strange liquor doth disorient me so. It be not becoming for such aqua fortis to glow as though 'twere touched by glamour."

Lime sipped her drink and considered. "But we are getting off topic. Are you one of the regular readers?"

Fleur hesitated a moment but finally nodded while sipping her drink. "Yes indeed. I have indulged in reading such things. Crossups even. "Diamond Harvest" was so moving. A lonely farm mare, mysteriously helped by a Diamond Dog that eventually came to know her and saved her from the advances of an evil land speculator... but my primary joy is to imagine Fancy Pants in the lead roles, especially in stories of espionage. After all, he already looks the part of the suave, debonair spy. It takes very little to cast him in the role."

"Really? I always saw him as the non-Caballito version of The Most Interesting Pony in Equestria, that cheesy stallion advertising Dos Equus."

"But thou shalt not escape the scrutiny of thine own inquisition. Thou hast asked thy fellow dame about her proclivities in literature. What of thee? Hast thou taken to... 'tapping out dit-dah code' to these tales thou hast called cheap and trashy? Methinks thou dost protest more than is seemly for an innocent mare. Confess, Dame Sherbert." Cynthia stared hard at Lime, with a smile on her face. She was joined soon enough by a smiling scrutiny from Fleur.

Lime shifted back a bit, stricken by the intensity of the gazes, but recovered well and took a sip of glowing cocktail. "It's true. In times before I used to indulge in a bit of split-leg tap-dancing with the help of a cheesy scene of two paper-thin characters getting interpersonal. And I know they've gotten better lately but that doesn't matter. See, I stopped needing them. I got married; and not just to a pegasus, but a Royal Guardspony. That's up there on the fantasy list. It's exciting and wonderful, not to mention pretty hot, because he's built like a proper guard and has all the stamina. And he can fly. So... well, any fantasy I want, he can play. From 'bed and breakfast customer without money' to 'country bumpkin and the city slicker.' There's a lot to be said for having a ready guy available." She chuckled a bit and leaned back, looking as casual as could be.

"Be this thy posture with thy compatriots?"

"Indeed it is. I'm not a lightweight but it takes very little alcohol to help me just relax and get casual with my friends."

"I must say, I rather enjoy this side of you. You're a good maid but so much better as a casual mare. And it's such a rare thing. Those uptight first terrace types wouldn't know a casual time if they were paid to know. I have longed for the chance to just sit in a club like this and listen to... well what is it?"

"The name of this piece of sound and fury be not known to me. However, the authors of this audio ambiance are most notable. Witness, Vinyl Scratch and the inimitable Octavia Philhamonica. Those mares have performed at private palace functions. How strange they would need to reduce themselves to such things as performing at a random club. Hath the economy of Canterlot picked their pouches? Mayhaps they require additional royal support..."

"No, I don't think so. Vinyl talked to me once, while they were setting up that little garden surprise. She gets Octavia to perform at places like this to reconnect with the old days, to get back to how it was when she first started out. Sure, she's got a marefriend now, and a good income, nice house on the third terrace, some notoriety. But she didn't start out that way. It keeps her humble. And it ruffles Octavia. They're one of those 'playful' couples that occasionally annoys one another for the sake of keeping things fresh."

"Fancy Pants never annoys me..."

"Didn't you seek a royal audience because he wouldn't formally say he was your stallionfriend? That's something a high school mare does when the captain of the rugby team doesn't give her a hoof ring after homecoming."

Fleur stiffened and looked hurt by the accusation, but eventually hung her head and sighed. "Admittedly, it DID seem like a silly thing to do at the time. But I can't say I am disappointed with the results." She toasted her table companions with her drink and took a sip.

"Aye, 'tis so. This conclave hath removed me from the palace that I may savor the life of an ordinary mare. Truly, I do profit from thy stallion's devotion that lacks structure."

"I'm his closest companion and the eternal plus-one. But I want to date more casually."

"Just date?"

"Oh sure, I'd love to marry him. Or at least move in with him. But I'll settle for him at least recognizing that we're a serious hot-and-heavy item."

A glass tinked lightly against Fleur’s, the magical aura around it showing it to be Cynthia’s. “There are some secrets we all keep. By the State Secrets Act some things are occluded and unknown to thee. Keep the secret of why. Understand that I understand. My love be unknown, for he hath declared it so. That he may not put his reputation upon, as he saith, mine innocent head.”

Fleur re-clinked glasses with Cynthia and nodded. “He’s a bounty hunter, as you said. Not exactly the most socially-acceptable of occupations. The scandal that would arise.” She tapped a hoof on the table and sipped her neon beverage. “I wish you’d do it. Just to shake up the stodgy nobility. They need a good shock now and again.”

While the three contemplated their words, two new arrivals came in, looking to be experiencing a bit of culture shock. One was a male booted eagle griffin, thin and pale who looked at the accoutrements and all the bottles at the bar. His traveling companion was a unicorn mare, bright orange with a darker orange mane and tail and a cut wheel of cheese on her flank. She was just staring at the lights and the intense musical happening. “Jeepers! Oh hon, look at this place. How could we ever be as flashy as this?” The mare spoke with a very heavy Equestrian Lakeland accent.

“Hey now…” The griffin male gave the mare a hug and a kiss on the neck. “We don’t need to be flashy. I know we brightened the place up to more Equestrian standards. But it’s still what it is. It’s a little place for a quick drink beside the road. We don’t have to get flashy and crazy. We just need to keep it working.”

The mare nodded slowly, kissing the griffin’s beak lightly. “Oh Swallow, I just hope we can compete with something like this. Ya know there aren’t many griffins coming by.”

Swallow chuckled, patting the mare on the back. “Hey now… Come on, Aggie. There’s a reason I’m along the road to Cloudsdale. If griffins are coming they’ll pass. Flying or not they can tell a griffin place. Besides, I’ve always done alright. Don’t worry, dear. Come on, enjoy yourself. I saved up for a Canterlot vacation so you could take your mind off of the wedding. I thought it was important.”

Aggie chuckled lightly, resting her head against Swallow’s face and nodding a touch. “Oh fer cryin’ in the corn… ‘Course you’re right, hon. We’ll be just fine.”

As they passed the table containing the Dames Lime sighed and rested her head on a hoof. “Look at that. Speaking of Crossups, there’s a sight to gladden the heart.”

“Aye, aye. A griffin and his mare. They make a right handsome couple. He beeth of the Booted Clan. In my time they were largely ascendant and had designs on the throne of the High King. Their small stature and crafty nature gave them much success. However, our historians and diplomats hath told me their power waned after a bloody civil war. Now power be held by the Bald Clan, having been taken from the Golden Clan, Black Verreaux Clan and Eaglehawk Clan at other times. As far as is reported, such males emigrate from their lands to be free of hardships which cometh of being the least.”

“I applaud his taste in ladies and his boldness. To be so free with love AND to escape his situation to become his own male. There is a story there indeed.” Fleur noted that, as the two got drinks at the bar a trio of Pegasus ponies were coming up through the crowd. “Oh my. Looks like there’s a complication…”

“So I figure, we can replace the support beams with some granite ones and polish them up. I know there’s some Cannonite places that have good deals on uncut granite, and all we need to do is square it off, good compromise between Equestrian and Griff- Hey!” As Swallow was speaking, one of the larger pegasi, a muscle-bound blue stallion with dark purple mane and a dark cloud on his flank ran into him, jostling his newly-received drink.

“Watch it, chickenpuss! Can’t you things see behind you? You ought to know when ponies are walking around you.” The stallion spoke with a low growl, but loud enough to let other patrons hear the slur, which brought a laugh to his two friends.

“Hey, you ran into me! Back off, I’m just here to have a nice night with my fiancée. Do you mind?”

“Do I mind? You bet your flank I mind, chickenpuss! Like we need you coming into our land stealing our mares to join your freaky harems! Go back to your kingdom and stay with your own kind!” To add emphasis to his words the stallion shoved Swallow just enough to spill some of his drink but not knock him down.

“Hey! Screech and squawk, I paid good bits for that thing! What is your major malfunction, hoochbrain? Just get out of my face and I’ll leave you alone.” Swallow tried to go back into bartender mode, remembering that drunks were just idiots. He could get through it.

“Buck you, griffin! And buck your freak of a marefriend too!”

“What did you say?” Swallow’s unoccupied talons curled into a fist.

“You heard me! You’re a sick freak, slobbering over some lady that’s not even your own kind. And she’s just as bad, letting you put your filthy, disgusting claws all over her body.”

“One… more… word…” Swallow had forgotten all about Bartender mode. His talons were pressed tightly, balled up and ready to be used.

“Filthy. Disgusting. Who-” That was as far as he got. Swallow took a swing at him and clipped his chin. But it wasn’t his hit that did the damage.

Aggie shook her fore hoof, and glared hotly at the staggering Pegasus. “Great day in the mornin’! Shut yer donut hole already. We got it. These Canterlot pegasi… are they always such a pain, there?”

“You freak!” One of the other pegasi, a smaller but still bulky green and white stallion lunged for Swallow, meeting his fist in the face and Aggie’s hoof to the belly.

“Dames, to the fore. Chivalry demands we become aegis to the hearts of these beleaguered lovers who suffer for their passions.” Cynthia was up and away from the table immediately, followed by Lime and Fleur in an instant.

“Hey you! Eat it, flyboy!” Lime lit her horn and roughly shoved the third pegasus, a white stallion with a black mane, stopping an attempt at blindsiding against Swallow.

“You ruffian! How dare you do such a thing in such a place as Canterlot? You give our fair city a terrible reputation.” Fleur, a most dainty and proper unicorn, did not assault any of the pegasi. She merely grabbed the second attacker with her horn’s grip and pulled on him hard, holding him back from any action.

“Beat it, hood, or I will be forced to give thee the bum’s rush out of this club!” Cynthia, far less restrained, and FAR more powerful, flexed only a portion of that power, grabbing the instigator in her horn’s grip and yanking him down to the floor with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

“Hold it! Stop it! That’s it, out of here. All of you, out right now!” Cutting through the crowd came a small earth pony in brown and green, with a clipboard on his flank. He was followed by two hulking earth ponies in sunglasses, one a dark red mare with a brown mane and the other a black stallion with a navy blue mane and tail. “You five, all of you out of here right now! Not gonna have brawlers like you in this place.”

“Now hold on there, Joe. Just what kind of clip joint art th… are you running here? Tossing them all? You and the house dicks ought to know that it was those three…” Cynthia indicated the battered pegasi, “Who instigated this dust-up. So toss the crumbs and leave these two fine folks.”

“Indeed!” Fleur cut in quickly, drawing the attention of the confused bar personnel. “Why just look at us. Would we three clearly high-terrace ladies act on the side of questionable or improper beings? Of course not. We can assure you all that they did was in self-defense.”

The lead stallion considered it for a moment then indicated the three pegasi. “Toss ‘em. And tell the constables out there. I don’t need them causing trouble outside.” He nodded to Aggie, Swallow and the three Dames. “Folks, enjoy your evenings. I hope this doesn’t negatively color your ideas about this establishment.”

“Not at all! Justice is served. So, it’s really a nice place after all.” Lime smiled brightly and gave a mocking wave to the pegasi being rushed out the door.

“You alright honey? Any of those drunken muscle heads hurt you?” Swallow started looking over Aggie’s body, searching for signs of harm.

“Oh hon, I’m just super. That wasn’t so bad. But we really need to thank these ladies. Jeepers, jumping up for us, that was really sweet of ya, there.” Aggie gave a short bow to the trio of mares looking at the couple.

“It was a distinct pleasure to show such ruffians what proper ladies think of their backwards thinking. Where do they think they are? Pegasopolis? Shameful! Scandalous. And not even in the good sense. Hmph! So sorry to intrude on your evening but we felt it necessary.” Fleur acted as spokesmare for the group, all broad smiles and polite nods of her head.

“Oh not a bother at all, there. Sure, Swallow probably wanted ta punch their heads into their necks. He’s no fighter, donchaknow, that’s why he’s here. But he’s still a griffin and griffin men protect their hens ahead of all reason. Isn’t it cute? And here in Equestria we mares always back up our man. We always did back home. Just makes me know I made the right choice, there, when I decided to marry him.” Aggie lightly unruffled Swallow’s feathers with her horn’s magic.

“Culture dies hard. But believe me, I’d much rather be here than in the Kingdom. But no matter what, I’ll always protect my hen… my mare. I may not be much to look at but I’ll do what I can. I’m a bartender, after all. I deal with drunken griffins, stallions and jacks all the time.”

“Ahhh, a tavern-keeper. How noble. A provider of hospitality along the long and dusty roads. Whereabouts be thy ta… gin joint?” Cynthia moved ahead of the other two unicorns, looking very interested.

Swallow and Aggie both shrugged at the strange speech. Nobles. Then Swallow replied, “It’s sorta tucked in there, visible from the road or sky. It’s kind of on the crossroads, along the path to Ponyville, the earth pony portion of Cloudsdale, and vaguely on the road to Hoofingdale as well. Heh. That’s how I met Aggie. She wanted to get to Hoofingdale and she stopped for directions. We got to talking and… she just stopped. I don’t think she ever actually made it to Hoofingdale.”

“Didn’t really seem to matter all that much after a while. He’s got a cozy little place over the bar and we live pretty good.”

“Hast thou a calling card?”

“Yea, I’ve got my corporate office address on it and all- oof!” Swallow rubbed his side, following a quick elbow from Aggie. “I’ve got a few that I made up when I thought it might actually made a difference.” He reached into a pouch at his side and pulled out a smudged and slightly folded business card. Though there were tears on it, it still gave a location clearly.

Cynthia nodded slowly, taking the card and sliding it into a ribbon on Lime’s maid attire. “Do keep that safe. I thank you again. And hope your evening in this fair city be most pleasant.”

“Uh, thanks…” Swallow and Aggie smiled to the trio and went back to the bar for another drink.

“Was that not a most pleasant and heart-warming diversion? To be of service to others in love be the most heartening experience in all this world.” Cynthia sat behind her drink again, all smiles.

“I must confess… it was rather bracing! Oh the exhilaration! Is this what thrill-seeking ponies experience? Most delightful. The nobility never have such activities. No wonder Princess Celestia allows those six Element bearers their freedom in Canterlot.”

“Aye, my sister doth give them leave that they may make all our lives far more tolerably energetic. Particularly the impending Mrs. Twilight Sparkle. Never have sugar and party games created such a fracas, or ruction. It be most pleasant and refreshing. Why dost thou think I take my Nightmare Night in Ponyville?”

“Ladies…” Suddenly there came a voice that practically dripped with sleaze. It was as though the vocal cords of the speaker had been doused in cheap aftershave, cheaper deodorant and no-quality mane oil. All three mares turned to see the one who had spoken. He was a unicorn, with a deep roan coat and flaxen mane and tail. He had on a pair of button-up shirts, both collars popped. He was wearing moderately-tinted sunglasses, which showed off the lascivious gaze in his eyes. His Cutie Mark was seen to be a martini glass and a shaker. “Can I join this fine, FINE collection of natural beauty?”

“Err, no. That’s alright but we’re quite fine as we are.” Fleur smiled politely and motioned dismissively with her head.

“Hey now, I read you loud and clear.” The stallion inserted himself into a gap in the seating between Fleur and Lime, levitating over two glasses of brown liquor. “And here’s a drink for inviting me.”

“But, we did not…” Cynthia began.

“Majesty…” Lime leaned in as far as she could, speaking quietly into Cynthia’s ear. “He doesn’t care. He’s one of the sleaze balls I was warning you about. He’s not going to take no for an answer.”

“So, I see you’re on a diet. That’s good. Get yourself nice and thin. Bet you’re going to get your mane styled, too.” The stallion had all his focus on Fleur, critically eyeing her up and down. “And really, your horn probably needs a polish.”

Fleur spluttered loudly, eyes wide. “Well I never! Sir, I will have you know my mane was personally tended to by Señor de Cabello in the first Terrace high street, the finest Caballito mane stylist in all of Canterlot. And as for my weight I am quite thin enough. In fact I may be too thin; I have considered adding weight, as Princess Luna has made the fashion. And as for my horn, well…”

“Fleur.” Lime turned to her companion and shook her head. “Don’t listen to him. He’s negging. Saying all the bad things he can think of, true or not, to try and hit your self-esteem. Give in to his negativity or get defensive and he thinks he’s won. Just let it roll off you. You know you’re better than him.”

“Oh yea? Well, you know what, I don’t even have to make stuff up about you. Look at that frumpy outfit. Looking like a maid is something you do in the bedroom, not in public. Unless you really are a maid, then you’re just some servant. Why even bother with you? Just leave us to talk, ok, chickie?”

Lime faked a yawn, tapping her hoof over her mouth. “Oh! Sorry. You’re so boring I can’t even muster the energy to pretend to care. Besides, I’m married. I already have a guy. I don’t need some slime-soaked scumbag like you. I’ve got a QUALITY man waiting for me at home.”

“Huzzah, good Lime! Thou art aces, kid! Tell off this dingy crumb so we may get back to our little wingding.”

“Hey! Stuff it, toots! Just look at you. Listen to you! It’s just pathetic. One of those inbred nobles that can’t dress themselves without looking like an idiot, trying to be classical and just showing off you don’t know anything about fashion. And the way you talk, trying to learn slang and failing, mixing up all that old junk with slang from when your granny thought she was cool.”

“Now sir, thou speakest out of turn, and it is understandable that thou wouldst…” Cynthia began, trying to be calm and even, remembering her disguise.

“Shut up! You’re never going to get a stallion or mare. And even if you got one they’d be another inbred noble with no quality, probably some small-schlonged loser that would mean you needed a stallion like me, or some buck-toothed third-countess of…”

“SILENCE!” The shout ripped through the air, impacting the stallion with almost a physical force. “Thou! Thou baiez-mon-cul! Thou art overfull of the distemp’ring draughts and thine own sauce! Thou clapperdugeon! Thou talk’st too much on subjects on which thou art empty! Think us not some First-Terrace drab that have cod’s head and salmon’s tail! A partner! Tush! Such a partner have we, as thou may never know or realize! He be made forever, and there always be a business of some heat whene’er he arriveth to our chamber! Go to, go to back to the slime from which thou wert spawned, thou catso! Becco! Egregious wittol! A fig! A fig to thee and all that thou masy’st do!” So saying, Cynthia flipped her left hoof at him several times with great violence and sternness.

For a long moment the club was still. Not silent, as the speakers still blared a low-level repetitive beat. And then the crowd erupted with boisterous cheers, stamping their hooves in thunderous applause.
As the insulted unicorn slinked off in genital-crushing defeat, Cynthia remained standing, trying to look relatively calm. “Shall we… depart?”

“That would be for the best, yes.” Lime stood up quickly, followed by Fleur.
The three ladies dashed through the crowd, just ahead of the bouncers called in to handle the strange situation. Through the doors they broke into a gallop and leaped into their waiting carriage, which took off immediately, no questions asked.

“Huzzah and double huzzah! Surely the fun hath been trebled! Truly a night worthy of our wonderful order!” Cynthia fell back into a cushion, all smiles.

“I join her majesty’s enthusiasm! Is this the kind of fun you have at such places? Surely I could not take it all the time, but as a diversion is was most diverting! One can hardly think of troubles amidst ruffians, noble hearts and horrid scoundrels.” Fleur fell back into her own cushion, panting softly.

“The night is usually much quieter. But I have to say, it’s seldom that much fun.” Lime smiled, with a tired expression, then looked aside at the card tucked in her uniform. “Why did you save this, your majesty?”

“Such loyal hearts, strong and sure, even faced with villainy of a most evil sort. Such must be rewarded. And I know well how that reward may be delivered…”

“So, I guess things are on track for the wedding we wanted, right?” A few days later Swallow and Aggie were back at Swallow’s Swallow. Swallow was setting chairs and benches back into place, while Aggie was in the back looking over finances.

“Oh youbetcha! We’re doing well, there, for a small service anyhow. It’s all we need. But, we have family to consider. I know you wanted ta bring yer family in from the Kingdom, and I wanted at least my parents ta come down from Lake Whinneybago. If we keep making bits like we have been we should be ready in three months or so.”

Swallow sighed a little bit but kept a smile on his beak. “It’s a long wait. But I want to do this right. You deserve it. You’re worth it all.” Once the chairs were back in place he went to the front door. “Time to open it up and see what we… get…”

Right outside the door was amassed an army. Or a portion of an army. Well-regimented lines of ponies marched and lined up along the road. They were the standard white, black and green of Royal pegasus, unicorn and earth pony guards, but dressed in the silver barding of Luna, rather than the gold of Celestia. One particular unicorn marched smartly up to the open door and gave Swallow a smart salute. “Good morning, mister Swallow. This is the third Canterlot Guard Detachment, in service to her majesty Princess Luna. It was suggested to us that we, during our period of rest, use your tavern as a canteen. Worry not, sir, we are fully prepared to pay.”

“Jeepers! What is all that noise out there?” Aggie poked her head out from the back, unable to see out of the door.

For a long while Swallow was completely unable to speak. His beak worked but nothing came out. At long last he called back inside, still eyeing the guards as though not looking would make them disappear. “If nothing gets broken, I think our wedding fund just arrived!”

To be continued...

*: This is a modification of a bit of Ophelia's mad rambling in "Hamlet." In the original it was a man not a woman, and a "maid." It was a bit more amusing in the original. "Let in the maid that out a maid never departed more" is punchier but this has the proper form.

The Grand Mystic Royal Order of the Nobles of the Brotherhood of the Mustache

A/N: Yes, the title is a reference to a Ray Stevens song. It's just part of the hilarity.

Out in the wilds of Everfree even the brightest sunlight was destined to become eerily filtered through the thick canopies, only allowed glorious fullness in those areas that were clear of leaves, or even empty of trees. That spotty light was helpful for illuminating the path through the forest that was barely visible, one which led away from Zecora's hut, towards the broad river that ran through the wild forest.

A procession of figures wound their way along the path towards the river. There were six of them, five of similar size and one of much smaller stature. All of them were wearing long, black cloaks, with hoods pulled up to disguise their features. At their waists hung bags of herbs, to repel the creatures of Everfree, leaving their travel unmolested. All of them bore saddlebags over their cloaks, loaded down with items.

The six figures wound their way through several twisting paths, past several more noticeable paths that led to dead ends, almost losing themselves in the densely-packed forest. The finally broke through the treeline, to a clearing that contained a stretch of the river. Right at the edge there was a large, polished and clean gray stone table. Around the table were lumps of moss and leaves, six in number.

The six dark-robed figures spread around the stone table, the smaller one on the very opposite side from the river, taking a seat upon a very high pile of moss and leaves, allowing for a normal position at the table, comparable to the positions of the others. They were seated, three on the small figure's right and two on the left.

The river water began to boil and surge, going from clear darkness that showed its depth, to a white froth that bubbled, churning and bulging slowly, like a giant bubble was being released slowly. But rather than the pop of such a bubble there was the slow slide of water down blue-violet scales and out of the glorious orange pompadour of the local river serpent, known as Steven. He still possessed a full and glorious mustache, and had added to his facial accoutrements, a curly purple goatee that looked, as ever, like a pony's tail securely attached to his body. He stretched his arms up and stretched his sinuous body with an oddly-pleasured sigh. “Ooooh! Hello there! Right on time as ever!”

The small figure threw his hood back, revealing the face of Spike the dragon, looking annoyed. On his upper lip he was sporting a thick black mustache, drooping slightly at the ends. “Awww come on, Steven! I know you can't find a robe that fits but can't you, like, show a little more dignity and secrecy? This is supposed to be awesomely mystical. You can't just pop up and be all bright. We didn't even do any chanting.”

“Oooh, sorry Spike. But you know me. I'm just so excited to have guests! I'm so glad you let me be a part of your club!” Steven swished the end of his tail above the water, lightly flicking water around, while he pressed his fists up against the sides of his face.

“Hey, come on, this isn't just a club like the Cutie Mark Crusaders. This is a highly secret and powerful brotherhood of guys. We're a cut above the rest.” Spike twirled his mustache and gave a big grin.

“I must agree with our cheerful leader.” The one immediately on Spike's right flipped back his good to reveal the smiling face of Fancy Pants, monocle and all. “As a member of many occluded societies, and having been asked to join many others, I enjoy this one most of all.”

“You're the expert, I suppose. I just know it's a great way to get out of the house sometimes.” The stallion to the right of Fancy Pants flipped back his hood to show off Ace, still in his sweatband. “Oh not that I don't love Pokey, of course. I love spending time with him. But between all the practice, doing stuff that he likes, it gets to be a lot. Just a chance to hang out with a new crowd is great!”

“Oui! Zis is very true!” At Spike's immediate left, the hood came back to show off the griffonic features of Gustave Le Grand. “Especially in zees days. Zee headaches of zee bridegroom. Coo-la-la! I am so glad zat Joe is zee one to be taking care of such details. I must confess, I am not lazy, but I am... how you say? Efficient! I know what I am good at. And sitting here with zis group is a skill of mine.”

“Hey, that's right, yer getting married, aintcha?” The pony to Ace's right pulled back his hood to reveal Rarity's father, Magnum. “Congrats there, brother! My little girl is engaged herself. To Ponyville's best wild animal caretaker. Yea, it's pretty good. Say! When the wedding happens, think you can do the catering? Her mare is certainly the kinda lady that you normally cater to.”

“Am I the only one currently uncoupled?” The last one threw back his hood to reveal Horte Cuisine, with a slight scowl. “Everyone here is either married or engaged.”

“Oh not at all, old colt. Do recall that our brother Ace is not FORMALLY engaged to Pokey. And our cheerful leader has not cast his heart upon another yet.” Fancy Pants levitated his monocle off and gave it a casual polishing.

“Not that I would mind. But he still hasn't... cuddled up, as the foals are calling it. His parents still think he's just living with me to share housing costs. But I understand. They're nowhere near as understanding as Ponyville and Canterlot folks. I guess it'll be okay. They're the sort that would make a big deal out of it if he was not dating a pony. As though that matters.”

There was a general murmur of disagreement in regards to bigotry, before Magnum noted, “And hey, Fancy hasn't really got anypony for himself, there. Sure, he's been dating for a while, but there's nothing that came of that. Oh, no offense there, brother.”

“None at all taken, brother. Yes, it is true. I have been seeing the charming miss de Lis for a good while. But, very little of substance has emerged from that. I actually do consider that a shame on my part. But I haven't a clue what I can do at this juncture.” He twitched his mustache and cleared his throat. “But that is neither here nor there. I say we begin this grand meeting.”

“Yea! Enough of this frou-frou stuff! Now, let's get this started. Ahem.” Spike cleared his throat and called out. “Mustache!”

“Mustache!” The others called, with great enthusiasm.

“Thick and bushy, thin and twisty!”

“We are..!” Spike began.

All of them answered in unison, “The Grand Mystic Royal Order of the Nobles of the Brotherhood of the Mustache!”

There was some applause, though Horte stroked his mustache a bit and tapped on the table. “Once again... is there any chance we could vote on the name? I do realize it is a common objection but there is a certain... frivolity about it.”

“Ahh but that's half the fun of it, brother Horte. All those other secret societies are so stuffy and dull and plain. Why some of them are composed only of unicorns! Those are the ones that I tend to avoid. Harmless exclusivity is far more acceptable.” Fancy Pants nodded his head and slipped the pack off of his back. “Now... shall we move on to the rites of our brotherhood?”

“Oh yea! I hope everybody brought what you usually do!” Spike opened up the pack he had with him and dumped out poker chips, potato chips, and gem chips. “We totally gotta find a Diamond Dog to join us. I can't keep eating all these gem chips.”

“You could stop bringing so many.” Horte quipped, pouring out his bag and revealing several wrapped long sandwiches that almost shouldn't have been capable of fitting in the bag, which was longer than usual to begin with.

“Eh, he's not gonna change that. He gets to gem hunt with my daughter. That's half the fun there. Even if he's out of the running, he still likes being around her.” Magnum levitated out a deck of cards, which seemed almost comically large, as well as a modestly-sized pot, which he set in the middle of the table. “Fondue. Hope one-a ya brought some bread. I can't carry everything.”

“Et, voila!” Gustave pulled out a very large baguette and quickly sliced it into rough chunks upon a large napkin he had. He also took out several skewers and passed them around the table. “Would one of you kind unicorns please light zee fondue pot? Joe has made me aware of how useful it is to have a unicorn in zee kitchen.”

“Dude. Dragon.” Spike pointed to himself and blew out a gout of flame, lighting the fuel source under the fondue pot. “There ya go, man. Just give that time to warm up. Oh, and sorry about not having really, really big food, Steven. That would be suspicious... uhhh... more than a bunch of guys in black robes walking around.”

“Oh don't worry at all, Spike! There's plenty of fish in here.” Steven pulled up a well-manicured hand, to show a fish speared on one of the claws. “And they're big fish, too. That's the Everfree for you.”

“Oh! Can I have one of zose? A little one, s'il vous plaît.” Gustave looked on the fish with an obvious hunger.

“You know, I hear we are to offer fish sometime soon at the cafe. There have been more Diamond Dogs and griffins in town.” Horte noted, though he seemed less than pleased by the prospect of having fish near him.

Steven's other hand came up, dripping over the table slightly as he brought another fish across to Gustave. “Here you go. Enjoy. They're really tasty.”

“Hey, brother Gustave, before you have that fish, think you can lay out your stuff? Fishy stuff isn't that appealing.” Ace waved a hoof rapidly and lightly tapped the table.

“Ah! Désolé! Je ne pensais pas...” Gustave removed the other items from his bag, setting out a rich collection of pastries, eclairs and cream puffs primarily. Only after that did he take the offered fish and begin to daintily munch on it.

Fancy Pants levitated over a few potato chips and a large slice from one of the giant sandwiches. Almost in exchange he levitated out several cans of soda, sufficient to supply all the assembled with several cans. He cracked one open and set it before him. “None of the parties I have attended ever have such things.” He bit into the sandwich with a satisfied smile, before munching on a chip and taking a sip of soda. “Save the time that lovely pink Element-bearer injected her own style into such a soiree.”

“Oh yea, that filly! She's one-a my little girl's friends. Really great gal there, loves ta make all kindsa delicious stuff. Don't get me wrong, I love my wifey's cooking and my Sweetie's cooking too, but there's something to a pastry that's not a little charred, and toast that isn't served in a bowl. But nothin' like what you make, brother Gustave.” Magnum levitated over an eclair and took a big, substantial bite, some of the cream splattering out onto the table.

“Hey brother Gustave, check it out, it's Joe.” Ace let out a raucous laugh and pounded on the table. “Or maybe Pokey after a night in and a dose of cuddling. If you know what I mean.” He gave the group a wink and got back a few chortles and some rolled eyes.

“You only wish Pokey could be so productive, frère Ace!” Gustave twirled his mustache and adopted a smug look, a chorus of laughs busting out from the others.

“Oh! Burn! And I should know.” Spike popped his eye ridges and pulled a big gulp from a soda, letting out a surprisingly pretty green-fiery belch.

“I appreciate the liberty of this all.” Fancy Pants belched very politely behind a hoof and took another bite of his sandwich piece. “My brothers, to liberty!” He held up his soda in a toast.

“To liberty!' They all cried suddenly, most toasting with soda, though Gustave and Steven both toasted with their fish.

“But not too much liberty, right? I would imagine that Joe, Pokey, Pearl and Twilight have you on something of a leash. It's rather good to be a single stallion at times, is it not, brother Steven and brother Fancy?” Horte hid a chuckle behind a hoof and nodded to the two males he had indicated.

“Yea, yea, you laugh. But there must be something to relationships. Twilight seems pretty happy with Pinkie.” Spike munched on a few gem chips and scratched his cheek. “I'll find somepony. After all, I AM a dragon-shaped pony with his own pet phoenix. And who can resist that?”

“I dare say you would cut quite a figure in Canterlot. Uniqueness is always well appreciated. Throw on a tuxedo and a monocle, and you would move smoothly through all the upper echelons. Your palace connections would surely also open many doors.” Fancy Pants motioned to Spike with a smile.

“Oh yea? Maybe you're right.” Spike brushed gem flecks from his front and gave a lothario smile. “I'll bet you know plenty of single mares. You've probably dated all of them” He clicked his tongue against his teeth and winked.

“Oh, that is... you see...” Fancy Pants looked suddenly... flustered. It was a strange thing for the normally composed and urbane unicorn. “I do admit to a certain way with the mares. Why in younger days and with a younger mind I was certainly popular with the mares, to be certain. But in the middle part of my life I find that... fails to engage me mentally.”

“Oh come now, brother Fancy. Are you saying that the easily-impressed and vapid glamor mares don't draw you in? Those kinds are the easiest ones to date.” Horte leaned back, looking very unlike the sort of figure his appearance would say he was. “I have been out with those sorts of mares. I was responsible, of course. But they are very nice for a few dates.”

“Well, jeepers, looks like we all know who's gonna be single for life” Magnum chuckled lightly and finally got around to skewering a piece of bread and dipping it into the melted cheese “But then, brother Fancy's saying he isn't gonna be dating much either.”

“Well, I would not say that. I do attend many parties. And always with the charming miss Fleur de Lis as my perpetual plus-one.” Fancy Pants settled down comfortably, also helping himself to the fondue.

“Oh frère Fancy, zat is not zee same thing as dating. I have catered many a snooty party in Canterlot. Zee plus-ones are never treated like zee wives, husbands and dates.”

“Well now... you have a good point there, brother Gustave. A very good point.” Fancy lost himself in thought, consuming more fondue.

“So brother Gustave, how are housing prices in Canterlot?” Ace leaned on the table, closer to the griffin. “Pokey's been having some good profit from his engraving business and I'm into the better tournaments these days. Canterlot is where the big tournaments are at, and... maybe he would cuddle up and we could get engaged. Canterlot is very friendly to that.”

“Désolé, frère Ace. Je ne sais pas. My patisserie came with a garret as part of zee mortgage. Joe is zee one looking into zee housing when we combine out businesses. But I know zat zee housing in Canterlot is très cher.” He did not bother to translate, but the rubbing of his talons was a well-understood griffin symbol for expense.

“Hey there, ya know that Ponyville is pretty friendly to the colt cuddlers too. Sure we're not as big and such as Canterlot there, but we still love a good romance. And that pink gal'll always through ya a party. Ya can't go wrong with a party, am I right fellas?” Magnum motioned to the others who murmured assent.

Horte applauded lightly and nodded. “Indeed. I certainly have no problems. The more stallions taking up with one another, the fewer there to attract the mares. And there are only so many filly foolers out there. Still plenty of merae in the sea.”

“That's sure one way to get your kicks. Shooping it up with them has an appeal to a few. So I hear.” Spike gnawed on a diamond piece and give a thumbs-up to Horte, a laugh breaking out from all the others.

“If a simple physical relationship suffices then it is quite true the merae are perfect. Casual intimacy has merits to some. Not that I would be willing to go to those lengths.” Fancy used his horn to idly stack the chips, passing them around the table in even piles.

“But didn't you once say that the most you'd ever done with Fleur was to take her out and then have a night in?” Steven inquired, pulling up another fish. Gossip made him hungry.

“Well yes, brother Steven. But it is not MERELY casual intimacy. I daresay our intimacy is far from casual. It is why I never need to attend a gym. I get a full aerobic workout each time I have a date.” Another round of laughter rang out, and Steven applauded.

“I wish I had a lady like that. Oooh where can I find a lady who wouldn't mind living in the forest? Or at least visiting me now and then. For a few hours.”

“Optimist.” Horte deadpanned, looking at Steven. A polite chuckle followed. “You could try the zebra that lives out here.”

“Yea, that's not gonna happen.” Magnum spoke up, his magical grip holding a skewer that was impaling a portion of sandwich, which he was dipping in the fondue. “I dunno where you've been getting your information but everypony knows that Zecora there is gettin' groomed to be part of the Apple family. I dunno whicha them she's gonna marry. Rarity knows but she hasn't been talking. Sweetie does too, but for some reason she doesn't wanna tell me. Jeepers, when did I lose control of my daughters?”

“You had control of your daughters? I thought that wasn't possible.” Ace elbowed Magnum a little and chuckled.

“Oh, I know. It's Applebloom. Sweetie won't tell you because it's Cutie Mark Crusader business. Rarity didn't mention it because romantic secrets tickle her.” Spike casually toasted a sandwich section with some fire before taking a bite. “Applejack is arranging a wedding date with Rainbow Dash, and Big Mac... will probably die unmarried. Applebloom is going to marry Zecora as soon as she's old enough. You've gotta keep up with gossip.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence, before Horte muttered, “Even fillies are getting more dates than me.” That burst the silence with hearty laughter.

Fancy Pants shook his head with a mile and adjusted his monocle with his hoof. “Take heart, brother Horte. Surely a classy individual such as yourself should be able to attract a fine mare. Perhaps you should take a few days in Canterlot. There are plenty of locations. I am led to understand that the clubs there are ripe for the picking.”

“I am a maître d' at a legitimate cafe, the finest in Ponyville. I do not just wander into screaming, thumping clubs filled with smoke and lasers and ponies in strange clothes.” Horte sniffed, throwing his snout into the air.

“And that might be your problem.” Spike stuck a long quartz spike into his mouth, shifting it to the side to make it look like a clear cigar in an odd shape. “The mares are in there. And I hear they're kinda easy. Never been myself but I've heard stories.” He paused for a moment. “Read stories.” Another pause. “Wrote stories.” He coughed into his hand. “About myself.” He tapped on the table. “Cards! Let's get to it! We've got our rituals to get to.”

Magnum took up the cards in his telekinetic grip and shuffled them rapidly. “Alrighty there, what are we gonna play this time? Spit in the ocean? Straight five draw? Five stud?”

Hey hey!” Spike called out, drawing all eyes to him. “In this club, it's TOTALLY seven stud, am I right fellas?” A cheer rose up from the other six males, as well as cheerful chuckles. “Nah, I'm good with spit in the ocean. Everyone? That good?”

Horte held up a hoof. “Four card or called?”

“Oh, let us call it. A bit of control is always good.” Fancy Pants wiped his monocle on his robe and settled it back onto his face.

Magnum started passing the cards around, each male looking at the cards and the others at the table. In the middle of the third round Fancy Pants called out, “Spit! As it were.” One card, the six of clubs, flipped over and settled in the middle of the table by the fondue pot. The rest of the cards were dealt out as normal. “I'm rather glad this convocation was called. I needed to get out of Canterlot for a few days. And how propitiously timed! Being in Ponyville it time for the County fair.”

“You're telling me! I wish I had known about this while I was living with Twilight in Canterlot. Now that I've been a few times I can't imagine NOT going every year.” Spike flipped a white chip into the center of the table and nodded. “It's like the best place ever to grab cheap products that you can't find anywhere.”

“Oh you got that right, there.” Magnum chipped in his own ante and arranged his cards in his hooves. “The fairs out at Lake Whinneybago were fun. But this one is huge! And no snow! That makes all the difference.”

“And it is so good for a date! Or zat is what I have heard. Coo-la-la. I wish Joe was here. Perhaps he could take a day to visit. We could stroll zee products and eat zee silly things zey have. I have even heard a rumor zat zey have a fried pickle! Zut alors! Pouvez-vous y croire?” Gustave sighed wistfully and put in his chip.

“A date... a time for going out without a place to attend. No NEED to see and be seen. It sounds lovely. It certainly has been a long while.” Fancy Pants arranged his cards before his eyes as the others added their chips. “Fellows... do you think the time has come for me to stop being coy? I know it is the male prerogative to be coy and implicit, but I believe at a certain point, there comes a time when a stallion must... when a stallion has to stand firm and say what he means. Correct?” He looked out at the rest of the males, seeming pleading and unsure.

The faces that gazed back were blank, deadpanning with just the slightest hint of disbelief. The staring was silent and uncomfortable, no one making a move or even breathing too loudly. Spike finally moved, removing the quartz spike from his lips, once more reinforcing the impression that it resembled a cigar. He leaned in Fancy's direction, brows furrowing. “Dude... is this a Harlequine romance novel? I've read enough of them to know that's how the stallions talk. Or whatever other males there might be.” He smiled, the others following suit. “Time and place. Time and place. This is poker time. But... my advice? Do it.”

A chorus of assent followed. “Oui oui!” “Absotively!” “Oh do it!” “Go for it!” “Go on, do it!”

Fancy smiled, a small, sincere, pleased smile. “Gentlemales... brothers... this is why I hold in highest esteem this august and glorious assembly, over all the other societies of Canterlot. They can keep their stodgy pomp, flighty ideas, stuffy formalism and ludicrous notions. It is to this organization that I shall ever be eternally and wholly loyal!”

“That's the spirit! And hey, if it all goes REALLY well, we can TOTALLY handle your bachelor party!” Spike was suddenly on the receiving end of half a dozen deadpan stares. “No, really! This time I'll remember to do it in the right order!” He chomped sullenly on his quartz spear to a sudden chorus of laughter.