[FWM] Game of Ponies

[Kelvin360]

Lord Bookworm took another sip of his tea, rather than answering directly. He allowed a few moment of silence elapse, letting the crackle of the fire fill the room, before finally speaking again. "Unlike my predecessors, I'm rather more open to ... things which are considered unorthodox to my house." He set this cup down gently. "Did you know I'm actually fourth in line for the succession of the head of this house just a year ago? Of course, you wouldn't know that. House Illuminati keeps even the issue of succession a secret. Truth be told, we're still quite a traditional house. The title of Lord of House Illuminati is passed down through primogeniture. My uncle and his sons looked set to be the next lord of Illuminati. As for me..." Bookworm chuckled. A rather wistful sound. "I was considering a quiet career in the Trotingham University. I'm rather fond of insects. Planned on studying them even."

A noise behind him indicated the return of the servant. Bookworm gestured towards Feathergrin. "Ah good, Rize. Hand the book over to Lord Feathergrin here, if you please."

Feathergrin would be presented with a large black tome. The word "Artis Magicae" It looked ancient, the black leather wrinkled and showing the usual sign of wear, but otherwise was extremely well-preserved. One could sense that this book might even predate the lordly house itself.

"A fine specimen isn't it? One of the three known treatise of forbidden arts by Starswirl the Bearded himself." Bookworm sipped his tea again. "And all highly illegal under royal law." Bookworm was probably understating things here.

"Good to know," he remarks dryly, choosing to maintain a grip on his tea instead of taking the book. "I doubt you'll be very enthused if I decide to continue playing the fool. That said, you'll need to lay a few more cards on the table; the conversation is completely failing to make me comfortable. I will, however, phrase a few guesses as questions. Namely, where do you want it taken, who's after it, and where are the other two?"

Spoiler: OOC

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I doubt Feathergrin knows anything about the book even by proximity. But the thing about a tradition is that if you do things the exact same way for a long period of time, a pattern uncovers itself by definition. How many other houses know about the lines of succession, and/or which ones would be the most likely to pay attention for the purposes of gaining an advantage? Are the uncle and brood still alive? What race is the servant? Are there any windows? Does Bookworm have any unusual latent magic present on his person? Am I correct in assuming that the book glows like neon through the monocle? What's the servant's cutie mark? Mane and coat color? Is the room adorned with banners? Are there windows? What kind of glass is used in the windows, if any? How many beats-per-minute does a unicorn heart manifest under duress? Does anything in the room smell like almonds?

And, unfortunately, all of those are serious questions.

[Grif]

"Good to know," he remarks dryly, choosing to maintain a grip on his tea instead of taking the book. "I doubt you'll be very enthused if I decide to continue playing the fool. That said, you'll need to lay a few more cards on the table; the conversation is completely failing to make me comfortable. I will, however, phrase a few guesses as questions. Namely, where do you want it taken, who's after it, and where are the other two?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I doubt Feathergrin knows anything about the book even by proximity. But the thing about a tradition is that if you do things the exact same way for a long period of time, a pattern uncovers itself by definition. How many other houses know about the lines of succession, and/or which ones would be the most likely to pay attention for the purposes of gaining an advantage? Are the uncle and brood still alive? What race is the servant? Are there any windows? Does Bookworm have any unusual latent magic present on his person? Am I correct in assuming that the book glows like neon through the monocle? What's the servant's cutie mark? Mane and coat color? Is the room adorned with banners? Are there windows? What kind of glass is used in the windows, if any? How many beats-per-minute does a unicorn heart manifest under duress? Does anything in the room smell like almonds?

And, unfortunately, all of those are serious questions.

"Of course. All in due time," Bookworm said calmly.

"First, this book is not the actual item I wish to bring to your attention." The young lord takes the book with his magic, and holds it carefully in the air. "It is just one small part of our house's extensive collection." He shot Feathergrin a smile. "As far as I know, no one outside you, me, the Princess and her inner circle, and all the trusted members of my house knows this volume exists. Speaking of which, we also hold the other copy, while the Princess keeps the third in the Royal Archive."

By now, he'd probably have invited even more confusion. But the young lord simply continued, turning the book over in the air, studying it. "In any case, I'm sure this is ample enough demonstration as to the seriousness of the matter." Bookworm stopped, then chuckled. "Ah right. I haven't actually said what the matter was. It's simple really. Another tome of similar value has been stolen very recently." His expression lost all semblance of mirth. "So far, our attempts to retrieve the volume have been fruitless."

He turned again, and gazed distantly into the fire. "And incidentally enough, my uncle, the former head of the house, was one of the few ponies who knew the location of said book. Officially, he was found to have suffered an unfortunate heart attack. Even more tragically, his two sons perished in a carriage accident on the same night. Interesting, is it not?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I doubt Feathergrin knows anything about the book even by proximity. But the thing about a tradition is that if you do things the exact same way for a long period of time, a pattern uncovers itself by definition. How many other houses know about the lines of succession, and/or which ones would be the most likely to pay attention for the purposes of gaining an advantage?
It can be assumed that House Illuminati keeps a traditional primogeniture succession. But it's quite rare for them to actually disclose their entire line of succession if the obvious successor dies. Gives them a bit an air of mystery when an unknown member becomes lord.

Are the uncle and brood still alive? What race is the servant?
Answered above. The servant is also a unicorn.

Are there any windows?
Two.

Does Bookworm have any unusual latent magic present on his person?
A personal medallion he keeps in a pocket. One might assume it's a keepsake and probably a ward.

Am I correct in assuming that the book glows like neon through the monocle?
Indeed. One would recognise them as simple spells to preserve the books, rather than any actual curse.

What's the servant's cutie mark?
A cup of tea.

Mane and coat color?
Blond, with grey-blue coat. Blue eyes.

Is the room adorned with banners?
Banners of the house, yes.

Are there windows?
Answered above.

What kind of glass is used in the windows, if any?
Reinforced glass.

How many beats-per-minute does a unicorn heart manifest under duress?
For the sake of simplicity, same as a human. Not about to speculate further.

Does anything in the room smell like almonds?
No.

And, unfortunately, all of those are serious questions.

[Kelvin360]

"Of course. All in due time," Bookworm said calmly.

"First, this book is not the actual item I wish to bring to your attention." The young lord takes the book with his magic, and holds it carefully in the air. "It is just one small part of our house's extensive collection." He shot Feathergrin a smile. "As far as I know, no one outside you, me, the Princess and her inner circle, and all the trusted members of my house knows this volume exists. Speaking of which, we also hold the other copy, while the Princess keeps the third in the Royal Archive."

By now, he'd probably have invited even more confusion. But the young lord simply continued, turning the book over in the air, studying it. "In any case, I'm sure this is ample enough demonstration as to the seriousness of the matter." Bookworm stopped, then chuckled. "Ah right. I haven't actually said what the matter was. It's simple really. Another tome of similar value has been stolen very recently." His expression lost all semblance of mirth. "So far, our attempts to retrieve the volume have been fruitless."

He turned again, and gazed distantly into the fire. "And incidentally enough, my uncle, the former head of the house, was one of the few ponies who knew the location of said book. Officially, he was found to have suffered an unfortunate heart attack. Even more tragically, his two sons perished in a carriage accident on the same night. Interesting, is it not?"

Feathergrin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he speaks, it is in a tone of forced calm. "Lord Bookworm, I respectfully assume that, with only a year under your belt, some of this is quite new to you. Thusly, I would like to offer some advice, some applicable to meetings as a whole, some to me specifically."

He takes another sip of tea. "You assumed, I believe, that I would need to be convinced of the urgency of my task, one I haven't been actually assigned. In turn, I would need to realize the stakes in a similar vein. Fair enough. However, you picked two things that don't worry me in the slightest: magic and illegalities. I have a belt buckle in one of my saddlebags that is also illegal under royal law, and as for magic...well, begging your pardon, but I'm an earth pony. Further, if the volume you've just shown me was only tangentially related, that tells me...absolutely nothing."

He takes another deep breath, then continues. "Regardless of whatever portions of my reputation may have caused you to seek me out, one thing I'm sure you've noticed is that I rarely get involved directly with houses and their schemes. Not for lack of trying on their part. Not because I find anything untoward or difficult, but they take absolute ages to get to the point. I enjoy the Grand Game as much as the next pony, Lord Bookworm, but it has its place in the courts, not over tea. If you've already weighed the risks of contacting, meeting with, and hiring me, then it behooves you to ensure that I have at least some idea of what's going on without needing to tap into a deep wellspring of extrapolation."

He finishes his cup and sets it down. "And, finally, since this subject apparently veers where the courts would consider 'untoward', you forgot the all-important topic of dirt. Namely, dirt on me. I'm willing to overlook this part as a refreshing change, but you're really supposed to threaten me somehow to ensure my cooperation. It has a sort of...classical elegance. Unless that last bit was a threat, in which case you need to do...better."

He gives Bookworm a dry sort of look. "So! In conclusion: what exactly am I looking for, what makes me more qualified than your agents, pull out a nice ominous threat of some kind, as much miscellaneous background information as you can muster, and two final questions of utmost importance.

Firstly, during your tenure, have you made any decisions that go against the grain of your house's tradition, in any way?

Secondly, do you have a personal manestylist? Because that look really works for you."

[TheAmishPirate]

It seems at some point Riposte has done the rather common mistake of projecting her own culture into a general sense... again. While she would admit to taking fault for that, there's something completely offputting about this whole situation. How sure they are about the guilt of the prisoners when they admit that they're in some ways incompetent.

"I must apologize for any stress I've caused with the suggestion. But, to be blunt, the state of one of the prisoners is past useless. The one seems... to have some sort of connection to the outside severed. An outside pony would not know them, and they'd naturally just assume that the prisoner has been..."

Riposte cuts off the sentence without finishing.

"We must not just find guilt but convince the other nobles. If this fails, there will be revenge from houses that aren't naturally peaceful. A whiff of air, a beam of sunlight, a potted plant. SOMETHING to bring him back to equestria."

The manservant's face softens. Which still comes out to a disgusted scowl, but progress was progress. "That is a much more reasonable suggestion. I suspect the Lord and Lady would like to use this cellar when all is finished, so a window is quite out of the question. But I can have one of our ponies fetch a potted plant that can thrive in this environment."

"...and perhaps we'll see about drilling a small hole for fresh air. I can promise nothing more at this time." That was, it seemed, likely all the concessions Riposte was likely to get out of their host on the matter.

[Grif]

Feathergrin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he speaks, it is in a tone of forced calm. "Lord Bookworm, I respectfully assume that, with only a year under your belt, some of this is quite new to you. Thusly, I would like to offer some advice, some applicable to meetings as a whole, some to me specifically."

He takes another sip of tea. "You assumed, I believe, that I would need to be convinced of the urgency of my task, one I haven't been actually assigned. In turn, I would need to realize the stakes in a similar vein. Fair enough. However, you picked two things that don't worry me in the slightest: magic and illegalities. I have a belt buckle in one of my saddlebags that is also illegal under royal law, and as for magic...well, begging your pardon, but I'm an earth pony. Further, if the volume you've just shown me was only tangentially related, that tells me...absolutely nothing."

He takes another deep breath, then continues. "Regardless of whatever portions of my reputation may have caused you to seek me out, one thing I'm sure you've noticed is that I rarely get involved directly with houses and their schemes. Not for lack of trying on their part. Not because I find anything untoward or difficult, but they take absolute ages to get to the point. I enjoy the Grand Game as much as the next pony, Lord Bookworm, but it has its place in the courts, not over tea. If you've already weighed the risks of contacting, meeting with, and hiring me, then it behooves you to ensure that I have at least some idea of what's going on without needing to tap into a deep wellspring of extrapolation."

He finishes his cup and sets it down. "And, finally, since this subject apparently veers where the courts would consider 'untoward', you forgot the all-important topic of dirt. Namely, dirt on me. I'm willing to overlook this part as a refreshing change, but you're really supposed to threaten me somehow to ensure my cooperation. It has a sort of...classical elegance. Unless that last bit was a threat, in which case you need to do...better."

He gives Bookworm a dry sort of look. "So! In conclusion: what exactly am I looking for, what makes me more qualified than your agents, pull out a nice ominous threat of some kind, as much miscellaneous background information as you can muster, and two final questions of utmost importance.

Firstly, during your tenure, have you made any decisions that go against the grain of your house's tradition, in any way?

Secondly, do you have a personal manestylist? Because that look really works for you."

Spoiler: OOC

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Bother. I hope I covered everything.

Bookworm looked mildly amused at the long tirade. He sipped his tea while Feathergrin replied in turn, nodding thoughtfully. Finally when he was done, the young lord deigned to speak. "Very well. I may be inexperienced in this, but I'm certainly not uninformed about it. I can thank my late father for that."

"Firstly, the main reason I sought you out was simply because of said non-affliation with any great houses, save House Lunatic, which you hail from. And even then, your distaste for politics is well known, and thus is actually a favour in your point." He looked directly at Feathergrin. "I'll spare you the threat. I value honest dealing, and I'm sure you do as well. No need for threats. And yes, I shouldn't belabour the point any longer." He took a deep breath, and began.

"This matter should be serious enough to warrant your undivided attention in any case. The tome that was stolen was the Book of Alicorn Summoning written by the infamous magus Black Geld himself. That alone should give you a clue as to why I'm personally concerned. The entire book is supposed to be a theoretical treatise on the various steps needed to personally grant one the powers of an alicorn."

Another sip of his tea. "Again, why you, you might ask. My agents are capable indeed, but I suspect we're dealing with something far more sinister. Although I'm assured time and again that this was just a matter of simple theft and the book would be found soon, certain facts do not add up. The fact that this book was specially targeted from our secret archive. The fact that my uncle was the last to check it out of the archive personally. The fact that he was soon found dead, ostensibly of natural causes and his progeny dead in similarly suspicious circumstances. The fact that no one made any demands in exchange for the return of the book, or some sort of blackmail as is the wont." Bookworm paused. "All speculation, mind. Perhaps it is true this is all unrelated. Simply a series of unfortunate circumstances, and the book would be found soon, one way or another."

He drained the last of his tea. "You, Feathergrin, have the appropriate connections with the commoners. Networks that we do not possess. You're also one of the few I trust can keep any inquiries you make discreet. Perhaps you can uncover more clues as to the whereabouts of this book. Perhaps you may also be able to glean more information on the death of my predecessors. And just perhaps, you'll be here to tell me I'm a fool for ever involving you, and I'll be glad for that."

Another momentary pause. Then a wistful smile. "As for my mane, well, I'll heartily recommend Coco's Salon here in the Harmony District itself. She does fine work."

[Kelvin360]

There is a brief moment wherein the Feathergrin who was invited to tea remains present, slowly finishing his drink as he listens. When the cup reaches the ground and the words cease, he has all but disappeared. In his place is a stallion who means to see beyond sight, who is well aware - mistakenly or not - that he is being toyed with, and who, above all, does not like that one bit.

"I never knew my mother," he begins in a low tone. "All I have of her is a single phrase, a cliche, I'll admit, but one that has always served to me as a reminder of the dangers my life poses. 'Be careful what you wish for'. I'll give you a choice. A very simple set of immediate demands. If you elect not to follow them, then our business can be concluded and you may trust - for however much that is worth to either of us - that this conversation may as well have never happened. But if you do...then you place this matter in my hooves. You place yourself, your house, and for all I know the whole of Equestria under my scrutiny. Your task will be accomplished. But I know this story; this is the one where the end result is absolutely nowhere near either of us can expect or comprehend. If I make this sound dire, that's because it is. This is no contention of nobility, no confederacy of dunces. This is the Game of Ponies, and all the players will lose something in the end.

If you feel you can accept the consequences, then here is my request. First, send your steward and guards out of the room. Second, as an insurance policy, encase me in a telekinetic barrier. This is the point at which trust becomes a lovely little daydream, and both of us need to cover our bases.

Now...shall we begin?"

[Grif]

There is a brief moment wherein the Feathergrin who was invited to tea remains present, slowly finishing his drink as he listens. When the cup reaches the ground and the words cease, he has all but disappeared. In his place is a stallion who means to see beyond sight, who is well aware - mistakenly or not - that he is being toyed with, and who, above all, does not like that one bit.

"I never knew my mother," he begins in a low tone. "All I have of her is a single phrase, a cliche, I'll admit, but one that has always served to me as a reminder of the dangers my life poses. 'Be careful what you wish for'. I'll give you a choice. A very simple set of immediate demands. If you elect not to follow them, then our business can be concluded and you may trust - for however much that is worth to either of us - that this conversation may as well have never happened. But if you do...then you place this matter in my hooves. You place yourself, your house, and for all I know the whole of Equestria under my scrutiny. Your task will be accomplished. But I know this story; this is the one where the end result is absolutely nowhere near either of us can expect or comprehend. If I make this sound dire, that's because it is. This is no contention of nobility, no confederacy of dunces. This is the Game of Ponies, and all the players will lose something in the end.

If you feel you can accept the consequences, then here is my request. First, send your steward and guards out of the room. Second, as an insurance policy, encase me in a telekinetic barrier. This is the point at which trust becomes a lovely little daydream, and both of us need to cover our bases.

Now...shall we begin?"

Bookworm simply chuckled in response. It wasn't out of mirth. His voice was calm and collected as he spoke. "Lance. Cobalt. You heard the gentlepony. Out the door. Rize, you too." The guards voiced their assent.

"Sire? Are you... certain?"

"Yes. Take comfort. If you find me dead in the hour, at least you know who the perpetrator is. And I bet you Master Stuffybook would rejoice at my untimely demise."

"Sire, that's no way to speak of Lord Librum!"

"It was just a harmless jest, Rize. Now be off with you."

"Yes, sire." The servant bowed, and glided out of the room, together with the two guards in tow.

Bookworm simply refilled his cup and then offered it to Feathergrin. "More tea?"

[Kelvin360]

"You're not making this easier for either of us," Feathergrin sighs, waving one forehoof for more tea and reaching into a saddlebag with the other...rather deeper than one should actually be able to reach into a saddlebag, in fact. He pulls out a small knife, likely part of a throwing set, and hands it to Bookworm hilt-first. "You may not care to use it or even know how, but it makes me feel better knowing you have the visible capability of dealing me injury if I turn out to be a berserk sleeper agent, as crazy as that sounds."

He allows himself a small, grim smile. "I'd keep that sense of good humor around, by the by. At least one of us should avoid being hyper-serious. Now for my moment of exposition, because princesses know we haven't had enough.

First off, there's a good chance your house has at least one traitor in it, but you probably knew that. They're probably feeling awful cocky right now, too, and I can't say I blame them. You...aren't coming off as quite paranoid enough to be a threat to them. Your willingness to trust me out of hoof, for example, is, ah, odd. Let's go with odd. Thusly, I'll err on the side of caution in regard to who among your house I entrust with...just about anything, including this conversation. You're probably thinking something along the lines of 'there is one among them I trust above all others'. Well, they're probably the traitor in question. Unless it's you. But aside from that being a very long con, I don't take you to be quite stupid enough to organize this and then hire me on just to get rid of me just as I dramatically discover the truth. We both know that wouldn't end well.

As for your uncle, it strikes me that there are two major possibilities. I'm sure we agree that this reeks of an inside job, especially considering your house's legendary level of security over your rarer stocks. The question is whether he meant to use the tome himself, or whether he was a delivery colt. Either way, he had an accomplice who turned on him and stole the book, which brings us back to the traitor, or more likely whoever controls the traitor. This long of a wait implies that whoever means to use the tome only discovered its existence recently, or else they'd have taken it the instant it was first found by you.

As for the tome itself, I can tell you right now, it doesn't do what I believe you think it does. The name and how you describe its purpose don't add up. If it was that simple, Black Geld would be ruling the kingdom right now. No, I'd wager a hefty sum that it actually places an alicorn that already exists under control of the user. I have some experience in dealing with virtually that exact same plot, actually. Oh and also, unless Twilight Sparkle is the culprit, my guess is that if they try to use the magical energies without an army of unicorns at their back, it'll blow up in their face; this kind of magic always does. We'll have to credit them with some kind of low cunning, though, so let's assume they have a plan to work past that. The only alicorn they can feasibly reach is Luna, mostly because everypony is already expecting Celestia to come back with a vengeance, so her sister probably has a contingency and a half to keep that from happening. That said, it'd be foolish to not keep an eye on her, too.

Allow me to recap. An unknown force, who we can assume is either a unicorn or the stooge of a unicorn, means to use a book they stole with the help of your uncle and an unknown traitor to your house that, with the help of a singularly powerful force of magic or many minor sources, intends to bind Princess Luna to their control. You'll have noted, I presume, that every inch of that is an assumption, but I like to operate under a worst-case scenario. So our goals are, at present, to ensure Luna and Celestia's status, check for any hostile feelers looking to recruit sources of magic, probably under the guise of a cult or an uprising, and try to figure out who that traitor is. I can put out a few tentative feelers for the first and second jobs, but to be honest, I don't know enough about your house to spring for the third.

A task which segues nicely into my final point. You're in danger, obviously. The only thing keeping you alive is the assumption that you are nonthreatening. If the traitor thinks you know they exist, your life is basically forfeit. More importantly, if they get confident, they'll slip up. So my advice is to not make any internal inquiries. Act like nothing's wrong at the homestead. Their thinking that you don't know what's going on is a thin shield, but it's cover nonetheless.

And now, I take a moment to breathe, have another drink, and allow you to process the eight billion questions that my self-assured blabbering has just conjured, mm?"

[Grif]

"You're not making this easier for either of us," Feathergrin sighs, waving one forehoof for more tea and reaching into a saddlebag with the other...rather deeper than one should actually be able to reach into a saddlebag, in fact. He pulls out a small knife, likely part of a throwing set, and hands it to Bookworm hilt-first. "You may not care to use it or even know how, but it makes me feel better knowing you have the visible capability of dealing me injury if I turn out to be a berserk sleeper agent, as crazy as that sounds."

Bookworm viewed the knife with visible distaste. He did take it with his magic and carefully laid it to one side on a nearby cushion. "I do not, no. I do not care for weapons. I'm a scholar by nature, and such implements do not interest me the slightest."

He allows himself a small, grim smile. "I'd keep that sense of good humor around, by the by. At least one of us should avoid being hyper-serious. Now for my moment of exposition, because princesses know we haven't had enough.

"I try my best. With all the rumbling of the Stoutheart affair, one tries not to think too hard of the possible fallout." Bookworm takes another sip.

First off, there's a good chance your house has at least one traitor in it, but you probably knew that. They're probably feeling awful cocky right now, too, and I can't say I blame them. You...aren't coming off as quite paranoid enough to be a threat to them. Your willingness to trust me out of hoof, for example, is, ah, odd. Let's go with odd. Thusly, I'll err on the side of caution in regard to who among your house I entrust with...just about anything, including this conversation. You're probably thinking something along the lines of 'there is one among them I trust above all others'. Well, they're probably the traitor in question. Unless it's you. But aside from that being a very long con, I don't take you to be quite stupid enough to organize this and then hire me on just to get rid of me just as I dramatically discover the truth. We both know that wouldn't end well.

"I like to think that simple honesty and forthrightness is sorely lacking these days. Plus, what I heard of you is enough for me to reasonably know that you're an honourable pony yourself, and quite unlikely to engage in the distasteful skulduggery of noble politics. Certainly, you know enough to avoid it for most part. An option, unfortunately, isn't available to me." Bookworm seemed to let out a wistful sigh at this point, looking like he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a library and lose himself in a book.

As for your uncle, it strikes me that there are two major possibilities. I'm sure we agree that this reeks of an inside job, especially considering your house's legendary level of security over your rarer stocks. The question is whether he meant to use the tome himself, or whether he was a delivery colt. Either way, he had an accomplice who turned on him and stole the book, which brings us back to the traitor, or more likely whoever controls the traitor. This long of a wait implies that whoever means to use the tome only discovered its existence recently, or else they'd have taken it the instant it was first found by you.

As for the tome itself, I can tell you right now, it doesn't do what I believe you think it does. The name and how you describe its purpose don't add up. If it was that simple, Black Geld would be ruling the kingdom right now. No, I'd wager a hefty sum that it actually places an alicorn that already exists under control of the user. I have some experience in dealing with virtually that exact same plot, actually. Oh and also, unless Twilight Sparkle is the culprit, my guess is that if they try to use the magical energies without an army of unicorns at their back, it'll blow up in their face; this kind of magic always does. We'll have to credit them with some kind of low cunning, though, so let's assume they have a plan to work past that. The only alicorn they can feasibly reach is Luna, mostly because everypony is already expecting Celestia to come back with a vengeance, so her sister probably has a contingency and a half to keep that from happening. That said, it'd be foolish to not keep an eye on her, too.

"My uncle always struck me as an honest, if proud gentlepony. I'm not quite convinced he's the traitor, if there's indeed such in the house." Bookworm seemed troubled nevertheless.

"On the subject of the tome, my archivist assures me that the book was nothing more than the scribbling of a madpony on the precise process of turning oneself into an alicorn. A madpony, whom I might add, was found sacrificing a dozen ponies in his personal bedchamber for some sort of bloody ritual that resembles the one he had penned in that very book. Unfortunately for him... and fortunately for us, that particular experiment did not end well. I do not know the exact details of the affair, but I was led to assume that the details are best not known. Besides, the only living witness of that scene today were the two Princesses and I doubt the Princess would divulge such frivolous details."

"It is interesting that you brought up the subject of trying to control an alicorn. I'll have to check with Lorekeep again, but from what he told me, the book does deal with it as an aside, but never in exhaustive details. Among other grisly things that could be done to subsume alicorn powers, at any rate. Black Geld was terribly obsessed with power."

Allow me to recap. An unknown force, who we can assume is either a unicorn or the stooge of a unicorn, means to use a book they stole with the help of your uncle and an unknown traitor to your house that, with the help of a singularly powerful force of magic or many minor sources, intends to bind Princess Luna to their control. You'll have noted, I presume, that every inch of that is an assumption, but I like to operate under a worst-case scenario. So our goals are, at present, to ensure Luna and Celestia's status, check for any hostile feelers looking to recruit sources of magic, probably under the guise of a cult or an uprising, and try to figure out who that traitor is. I can put out a few tentative feelers for the first and second jobs, but to be honest, I don't know enough about your house to spring for the third.

A task which segues nicely into my final point. You're in danger, obviously. The only thing keeping you alive is the assumption that you are nonthreatening. If the traitor thinks you know they exist, your life is basically forfeit. More importantly, if they get confident, they'll slip up. So my advice is to not make any internal inquiries. Act like nothing's wrong at the homestead. Their thinking that you don't know what's going on is a thin shield, but it's cover nonetheless.

And now, I take a moment to breathe, have another drink, and allow you to process the eight billion questions that my self-assured blabbering has just conjured, mm?"

Bookworm silently refilled Feathergrin's cup, and allowed another few more moments of blessed silence, before speaking again. "I'm afraid my goals aren't so lofty. My first priority is to make sure this is contained. If word gets out that such a rare tome was allowed to be lost... well, our enemies will have quite the day. And we have many. That's why I asked for your help. You're potentially a neutral party and one that could be trusted to be discreet. If we end up somehow managing to save the Princess as well, I'd consider it a well-deserved bonus, and you can be sure all credit will go to you. I know this sounds petty, but I have my responsibilities as the master of the house now."

"As for your last point... if you and I cannot conduct inquiries, then how would we find the traitor? If one exists to begin with."

[Kelvin360]

"My uncle always struck me as an honest, if proud gentlepony. I'm not quite convinced he's the traitor, if there's indeed such in the house." Bookworm seemed troubled nevertheless.

"On the subject of the tome, my archivist assures me that the book was nothing more than the scribbling of a madpony on the precise process of turning oneself into an alicorn. A madpony, whom I might add, was found sacrificing a dozen ponies in his personal bedchamber for some sort of bloody ritual that resembles the one he had penned in that very book. Unfortunately for him... and fortunately for us, that particular experiment did not end well. I do not know the exact details of the affair, but I was led to assume that the details are best not known. Besides, the only living witness of that scene today were the two Princesses and I doubt the Princess would divulge such frivolous details."

"It is interesting that you brought up the subject of trying to control an alicorn. I'll have to check with Lorekeep again, but from what he told me, the book does deal with it as an aside, but never in exhaustive details. Among other grisly things that could be done to subsume alicorn powers, at any rate. Black Geld was terribly obsessed with power."

"Honesty and pride go extremely well together if you're looking for a pony to use to your own ends without their being aware of it," Feathergrin points out. "That ritual is about what I expected. The energy has to come from somewhere; blood makes a better substance than most, since even passive magic from earth ponies and pegasi have to go through it, and therefore you can use members of any race.

As a point of order, when a pony says that the details are 'best not known', that usually means they are absolutely best known, it just doesn't suit their interests. Lunatic could probably get something out of Luna about the event, but I'm not certain I want to try just yet. Either way, that many ponies disappearing means a trail we can follow, likely from among the common folk - which, as you pointed out, is my specialty."

Bookworm silently refilled Feathergrin's cup, and allowed another few more moments of blessed silence, before speaking again. "I'm afraid my goals aren't so lofty. My first priority is to make sure this is contained. If word gets out that such a rare tome was allowed to be lost... well, our enemies will have quite the day. And we have many. That's why I asked for your help. You're potentially a neutral party and one that could be trusted to be discreet. If we end up somehow managing to save the Princess as well, I'd consider it a well-deserved bonus, and you can be sure all credit will go to you. I know this sounds petty, but I have my responsibilities as the master of the house now."

"As for your last point... if you and I cannot conduct inquiries, then how would we find the traitor? If one exists to begin with."

"Hah! What wonderful irony this is. If all should go well, neither of us would find laurels a pleasant reward. I won't go singing about this after all is said and done, and I'll make sure my friends don't either. Best no one knows that such a thing may be possible - most of what protects Luna is the assumption that she is untouchable. I shan't endanger her by making a rescue, if it's necessary, public.

You shouldn't investigate your own house on my word. I, however, wouldn't raise any eyebrows if I were to engage in, ah, subtleties. It's well known how 'paranoid' I can be. But namely, if there is a traitor and they suspect you know of their existence, they'll become leagues more difficult to catch. Better they think you in the dark, only to have you reach out and drag them to the light when the time comes."

[Grif]

"Honesty and pride go extremely well together if you're looking for a pony to use to your own ends without their being aware of it," Feathergrin points out. "That ritual is about what I expected. The energy has to come from somewhere; blood makes a better substance than most, since even passive magic from earth ponies and pegasi have to go through it, and therefore you can use members of any race.

As a point of order, when a pony says that the details are 'best not known', that usually means they are absolutely best known, it just doesn't suit their interests. Lunatic could probably get something out of Luna about the event, but I'm not certain I want to try just yet. Either way, that many ponies disappearing means a trail we can follow, likely from among the common folk - which, as you pointed out, is my specialty."

Bookworm's expression turned to one of mild distaste. "That makes me want to know even less. This sounds like an affair best left to the royal guards to know and deal with."

"Hah! What wonderful irony this is. If all should go well, neither of us would find laurels a pleasant reward. I won't go singing about this after all is said and done, and I'll make sure my friends don't either. Best no one knows that such a thing may be possible - most of what protects Luna is the assumption that she is untouchable. I shan't endanger her by making a rescue, if it's necessary, public.

You shouldn't investigate your own house on my word. I, however, wouldn't raise any eyebrows if I were to engage in, ah, subtleties. It's well known how 'paranoid' I can be. But namely, if there is a traitor and they suspect you know of their existence, they'll become leagues more difficult to catch. Better they think you in the dark, only to have you reach out and drag them to the light when the time comes."

"I see. In that case, I'll just play the part of an idealistic young lord who appears way out of his depth as the new master of the house." Bookworm lifts his cup in a mock gesture of cheer and drinks again. "I pray your efforts in investigation would be much more fruitful than my own."

[MCerberus]

The manservant's face softens. Which still comes out to a disgusted scowl, but progress was progress. "That is a much more reasonable suggestion. I suspect the Lord and Lady would like to use this cellar when all is finished, so a window is quite out of the question. But I can have one of our ponies fetch a potted plant that can thrive in this environment."

"...and perhaps we'll see about drilling a small hole for fresh air. I can promise nothing more at this time." That was, it seemed, likely all the concessions Riposte was likely to get out of their host on the matter.

Small steps. Likely that small concession isn't going to be appreciated by anypony, but Riposte has a long, storied career of thankless tasks. Anyhoof, her compatriots are probably better for continuing the questions right now. The prisoners probably see her as... stern... at the most polite.

"And I thank you for such considerations. Now, there is the matter of the captured weapons that needs addressed."

That should be done soon. If she can lay eyes or talon on the weapons, she should be able to remember them even if something happens to the evidence. At that point the information can be transferred back to Canterlot securely via lucid dream if it's important enough.

[Kelvin360]

Bookworm's expression turned to one of mild distaste. "That makes me want to know even less. This sounds like an affair best left to the royal guards to know and deal with."

"You say that like the royal guards don't turn into wet paper when a legitimate threat comes along. They're just there to get stepped on to show who the real boss is. And that's just their actual job description. Keeping a handle on information like this? I'd sooner place my faith in a rock."

"I see. In that case, I'll just play the part of an idealistic young lord who appears way out of his depth as the new master of the house." Bookworm lifts his cup in a mock gesture of cheer and drinks again. "I pray your efforts in investigation would be much more fruitful than my own."

"I don't know if I need the divine attention, but I appreciate the thought."

[Grif]

"You say that like the royal guards don't turn into wet paper when a legitimate threat comes along. They're just there to get stepped on to show who the real boss is. And that's just their actual job description. Keeping a handle on information like this? I'd sooner place my faith in a rock."

"That doesn't quite reassure me. But then again, I'm not privy to the inner workings of the military, so forgive my ignorance," Bookworm said.

"I don't know if I need the divine attention, but I appreciate the thought."

"Indeed. In these dark days, one would need every sort of advantage they could get." Bookworm gazed into the crackling fire. "So, Lord Feathergrin. Have you questioned me enough? Is there anything else you would like to know?"

[Kelvin360]

"Not for now. I'll follow up with you when something new comes about. I'm going to take the investigation slowly, though, at least at first. I'll let them accelerate if they feel threatened, and that will give me some sense of how close I can get. As for you...it'll feel awfully useless if I tell you something silly like 'be careful' or 'don't worry', so I'll go with 'take notes'. Mental ones, if you please. We'll be in touch."

---

Canterlot City, Commons District Interior

"You want me to do what?"

"Just move that ear you've got to the ground a little for me," Feathergrin informs the librarian gently, offering up their joke about her missing ear. "I know your book club is exotic, and all I need is to know about ripples."

Principal Principle massages her forehead with a hoof, feigning exasperation. "Can I ask why? ...Wait, no, of course I can't. All right, fine. Anypony comes calling here or with the others, you'll be first to know. But I haven't forgotten you promised to set me up with Sergeant Gauntlet!"

"I'm working on it!" He says, stifling a laugh. "So far I have 'digs scars' and 'long walks on the beach'."

"Oh, the buck outta here with that greeting card junk!" She calls out to him as he exits.

With an aside-glance to the interior of the library, Static Gauntlet begins with a tone of surprise. "She wants to date me?"

"Of course! Dark sense of humor, very little social life, high risk of bodily harm in your day job - you're like doppelgangers of one another."

His brow creases. "And you haven't acquiesced becauuuuse...?"

"I want her to get frustrated enough to ask you personally, of course. It's one of the first tricks the Open Hearts teach you - setting up a date is an absolute last resort. If we could focus a moment, though..."

The guardspony nods sharply. "I get the drift. Ripples. The issue is, our three little circles already give you updates on the unusual."

"Aye, Static, but repetition is the bane of all good operations. I'm not saying to keep an eye out...I'm saying that the now is particularly crucial. You, Principle, and Barkeep are all excellent at decoding the zeitgeist for me, and I love that about all of you, but this is less the public and more..."

Gauntlet groans. "Private sector. Is this what the tea was about? You want us to be your socialite ninja crew?"

Feathergrin snorts. "As if I'd loan out my network like a Red Lantern filly to that buffoon even if he did ask. You know how Star and I feel about Illuminati. Let's say my visit has stirred up some branches. Moony, um...doesn't know I'm here."

At this, Gauntlet's expression softens. "I'll do it right. Ironically, you trained us for pretty much this exact circumstance."

"Not just gathering whispers, mind you."

"Hmph. The archery bits didn't hurt either, fine. And I hear Barkeep still plays a pretty mean tune. But you know what I mean. That all?"

Feathergrin nods. "For you. For now. For me..." His gaze finds the castle above them, allowing his heart to jump a few inches forward, pulling him forward. "I have somepony else to see."

[Kelvin360]

Canterlot Castle - Interior - Entry Hall

"It was NOT a failure."

Moonshine stops in place in the middle of the hall, eyes locked with her superior forbiddingly. In front of the royal guards and a few passing minor nobles, she refuses to make this a private audience; if Eclipse wishes to berate her, let it be here...unlike him, she has nothing to fear from ponies on a lower social ladder.

The gesture does not pass unnoticed. Sanctified turns on all four hooves at stares at his inferior with an expression of recrimination that would lay low any lesser pony. "Really? Clemence describes the debacle very differently."

Her mouth sets into a hard line. "I do not deny that it was a debacle, Lord Eclipse, but-"

"One thing, Moonshine. One thing that we never do. Just the one! We have resources and resources, but you saw fit to go begging to the crown for help?" He allows the accusation to hang icily before continuing. "Do you have any idea how long it will take us to recover from that? We will be a laughingstock for months!"

Eyes unmoving, she reaches a forehoof slowly towards Eclipse's front, and he flinches noticeably. When she completes the motion, it is to adjust the neckline of his suit, apparently no more and no less, and yet there has been a drastic shift in the power dynamic. "We have had this discussion before. While you could not have anticipated that Burdock would bring this matter to the council so suddenly, the fact remains that you are hardly one to criticize my methods. You appointed me knowing who and what I am. If you desire to uphold the political power of our house over the true justice of a given matter, don't. Send in. The paladin."

This elicits an awkward pause.

"...Clemence tells me you went over his head."

"As is my right. I was not speaking in hyperbolic terms when I described myself as his parole officer by extension. Nothing he could have said would have benefited us aside from 'yes sir', 'no sir', and 'how may I prostrate myself before you sir'. His misguided attempt at initial reparation nearly gave Burdock a spot at our throats that many would kill for. Luna's breath...I pray Burdock is lying or misguided. If we have to launch another Inquisition on account of some noble brat, on either side..."

"I will...forward you a report."

Another pause.

"You knew."

"It is my job to know. The barest of details foisted themselves on my desk before they appeared on Burdock's, but it was precious little to go on. You know how much incomplete information irks me."

"I must know...were they ours?"

"...no. But...they were not Solace's, either."

Moonshine makes a small choking noise. "Wh-...why would she...? Why would they?"

"Excellent questions, ones I expect your gamble to answer. It should be easy enough. Burdock has the same low cunning that I do not miss from the old days, but the rest of his house is more like Solace than they want to admit. Most likely this is a simple misunderstanding that some idiot brought out of proportion and will result in a war we can't afford. That is how they always start, I believe. As for you...do not allow the Code to blind you. We have too many ponies putting out their eyes as it is."

He trots off, huffing to himself, leaving his diplomat to find a relatively comfortable wall to lean against. She closes her eyes, well past any concern that passersby might see her and mistake fatigue for weakness. "Let us find justice and closure, Luna," she murmurs. "Let us dream tonight of a better world. And by the light of a new day, may we find ourselves living in it."

[Grif]

He trots off, huffing to himself, leaving his diplomat to find a relatively comfortable wall to lean against. She closes her eyes, well past any concern that passersby might see her and mistake fatigue for weakness. "Let us find justice and closure, Luna," she murmurs. "Let us dream tonight of a better world. And by the light of a new day, may we find ourselves living in it."

"Ofttimes, I find myself dreaming of the very same. But dreams are not reality, as I found out many times over the centuries." Moonshine might find herself coming face-to-face with none other than the Princess herself. "What troubles you, young one?"

[Kelvin360]

The paladin opens her eyes and breaks into a comfortable smile. 'My Lady', she mouths softly, as though it were a part of the prayer. "I...often find myself feeling...hopeless is the wrong word. Confused? No, discomfited. By the politics of our age. Several ponies are dead, but it seems that the pain of their passing is drowned out by the consideration of how one might use the event to strengthen their own position. Was there ever a time before these twisting houses, I wonder? A time when we all would bow our heads in equal mourning for the loss of life?"

She snorts in a show of mild self-mockery. "I just realized how naive of me that sounds. I suppose it is merely another shade of gray." She glances up to meet turquoise eyes with purple, allowing her tone to relax back into relatively calm understanding. "Historically, as I'm sure we both note, those suit The Cloth ill."

[Grif]

The paladin opens her eyes and breaks into a comfortable smile. 'My Lady', she mouths softly, as though it were a part of the prayer. "I...often find myself feeling...hopeless is the wrong word. Confused? No, discomfited. By the politics of our age. Several ponies are dead, but it seems that the pain of their passing is drowned out by the consideration of how one might use the event to strengthen their own position. Was there ever a time before these twisting houses, I wonder? A time when we all would bow our heads in equal mourning for the loss of life?"

She snorts in a show of mild self-mockery. "I just realized how naive of me that sounds. I suppose it is merely another shade of gray." She glances up to meet turquoise eyes with purple, allowing her tone to relax back into relatively calm understanding. "Historically, as I'm sure we both note, those suit The Cloth ill."

"Ah. Yes, I understand that feeling all too well." Luna gave Moonshine a sad smile and gestured for her to follow with a brief flick of her wings. Her Night Guard glided silently behind them as they walked.

The Princess allowed a few moments of silence, broken only by the steady clip-clop of their hooves on the marble flooring, before speaking again. "I remember the days when ponies were united by more than just tribal loyalties to their chosen organisation. When there was a genuine drive to help thy neighbours. To selflessly devote oneself to community projects for the betterment of all. When my sister was..." Her voice trailed off. "... well, when we were ruling side-by-side." She shook her head. "There are times I wonder if we ponies permanently lost something magical when the civil war forever divided our nation."

[Kelvin360]

"Ah. Yes, I understand that feeling all too well." Luna gave Moonshine a sad smile and gestured for her to follow with a brief flick of her wings. Her Night Guard glided silently behind them as they walked.

The Princess allowed a few moments of silence, broken only by the steady clip-clop of their hooves on the marble flooring, before speaking again. "I remember the days when ponies were united by more than just tribal loyalties to their chosen organisation. When there was a genuine drive to help thy neighbours. To selflessly devote oneself to community projects for the betterment of all. When my sister was..." Her voice trailed off. "... well, when we were ruling side-by-side." She shook her head. "There are times I wonder if we ponies permanently lost something magical when the civil war forever divided our nation."

Past the hastened breaths she is trying to hide as she matches pace, Moonshine is quick to respond. "It is not lost; I know this for a fact. I have seen ponies perform acts of selflessness almost too unbelievable for legend, and I know you have as well. Our souls remains pure in essence. But we have...erred, in our priorities. Before, we could rest easily in the knowledge that our friends and neighbors would help us with anything, and we could trust a stranger freely. The war showed us that there is a possibility for betrayal, and that brought with it the line of thought that whispered in our ears: 'you would be better suited to count only on yourself'.

I would like to believe that selflessness is reliant only upon oneself, but if you cannot trust a pony, how can you be expected to provide for them? That instinct, the drive to provide regardless of whether that providence is accepted or tossed aside, is what we have misplaced. And I have faith that, in time, we will come to see that trust may be made a reality again. The war may have pushed utopia beyond our reach, but we can still see it, and strive for it, if we but have the will to do so."

She blushes, although that could easily be a factor of the exertion. "It occurs to me that I may be preaching a sermon you have already heard."

[Grif]

Past the hastened breaths she is trying to hide as she matches pace, Moonshine is quick to respond. "It is not lost; I know this for a fact. I have seen ponies perform acts of selflessness almost too unbelievable for legend, and I know you have as well. Our souls remains pure in essence. But we have...erred, in our priorities. Before, we could rest easily in the knowledge that our friends and neighbors would help us with anything, and we could trust a stranger freely. The war showed us that there is a possibility for betrayal, and that brought with it the line of thought that whispered in our ears: 'you would be better suited to count only on yourself'.

I would like to believe that selflessness is reliant only upon oneself, but if you cannot trust a pony, how can you be expected to provide for them? That instinct, the drive to provide regardless of whether that providence is accepted or tossed aside, is what we have misplaced. And I have faith that, in time, we will come to see that trust may be made a reality again. The war may have pushed utopia beyond our reach, but we can still see it, and strive for it, if we but have the will to do so."

She blushes, although that could easily be a factor of the exertion. "It occurs to me that I may be preaching a sermon you have already heard."

Luna chuckled, her turquoise eyes glinting with amusement. "Worry not, little pony. It's heartening to hear such ideals from you." Their brisk walk now took them into one of the many conservatories that the royal castle sported. Only a lone gardener could be seen tending to his plants in a corner. "Tell me, Moonshine. What do you think of the latest debacle currently unfolding in the House of Lords?" the princess asked conversationally, as if the topic was nothing more serious than the weather.

[Kelvin360]

Luna chuckled, her turquoise eyes glinting with amusement. "Worry not, little pony. It's heartening to hear such ideals from you." Their brisk walk now took them into one of the many conservatories that the royal castle sported. Only a lone gardener could be seen tending to his plants in a corner. "Tell me, Moonshine. What do you think of the latest debacle currently unfolding in the House of Lords?" the princess asked conversationally, as if the topic was nothing more serious than the weather.

On this point, she takes a moment to think and catch her breath, eying a patch of dandelions so as to allow their beauty to accentuate her mental cohesion. "I think...that the wrong questions are being asked. I do not doubt that one of Burdock's housemates was murdered, not that Solace appears to be guilty of the crime. But both sides are too focused on the 'who' and the 'whether or not'. I find myself wondering why it happened. My blade having been forced in the past has given me...perspective on the matter, and I am loathe to describe any kind of killing as entirely pointless. Therefore, what was the purpose behind it? What was the intended gain? I feel that shedding such light on the matter would not only give us insight into the more common queries, but we may be able to stop a matter of this like from happening again."

"Burdock..." her nostrils flare angrily, and her eyes briefly give off a faint glow in time to a shining star in Luna's nebula mane. "His entire house infuriates me. They do not desire friendship or cohesion, but bitterness, vengeance, and isolation. He is bound and determined to find slights where none exist and to twist them into personal attacks so as to justify his vendetta against...what, the world? And to insult Lunatic so blithely, as though we of all houses were not so tightly bound to his own? As though we have less right than he to be outraged? Forgive me, but had you not been present, I cannot guarantee that I would not have punted him across Canterlot instead of apologizing."

She inhales deeply, and continues in a calmer tone. "And yet I cannot fault them for who and what they are. They simply took a...different path. Were our positions reversed, I doubt Lunatic would have taken any such matters quite so well. In fact, I shudder to think what our...particular armada would be capable of if our leadership were so...angry. The hypocrisy in this statement notwithstanding, I tire of anger very easily. We seem to have too much of it. I seem to recall Lady Pie having said that pastries were invented to change that, and I trust her judgment on the matter, so we shall see."

[Grif]

On this point, she takes a moment to think and catch her breath, eying a patch of dandelions so as to allow their beauty to accentuate her mental cohesion. "I think...that the wrong questions are being asked. I do not doubt that one of Burdock's housemates was murdered, not that Solace appears to be guilty of the crime. But both sides are too focused on the 'who' and the 'whether or not'. I find myself wondering why it happened. My blade having been forced in the past has given me...perspective on the matter, and I am loathe to describe any kind of killing as entirely pointless. Therefore, what was the purpose behind it? What was the intended gain? I feel that shedding such light on the matter would not only give us insight into the more common queries, but we may be able to stop a matter of this like from happening again."

The Princess listened intently, slowing her steps to a more sedate pace as they traversed the lush greenery that permeated the large room. "That's the great mystery, is it not? Why was the young lord so tragically slain, and in such a way that left two great houses at each other's throat. One has to admire the sheer ruthlessness of the act."

"Burdock..." her nostrils flare angrily, and her eyes briefly give off a faint glow in time to a shining star in Luna's nebula mane. "His entire house infuriates me. They do not desire friendship or cohesion, but bitterness, vengeance, and isolation. He is bound and determined to find slights where none exist and to twist them into personal attacks so as to justify his vendetta against...what, the world? And to insult Lunatic so blithely, as though we of all houses were not so tightly bound to his own? As though we have less right than he to be outraged? Forgive me, but had you not been present, I cannot guarantee that I would not have punted him across Canterlot instead of apologizing."

She inhales deeply, and continues in a calmer tone. "And yet I cannot fault them for who and what they are. They simply took a...different path. Were our positions reversed, I doubt Lunatic would have taken any such matters quite so well. In fact, I shudder to think what our...particular armada would be capable of if our leadership were so...angry. The hypocrisy in this statement notwithstanding, I tire of anger very easily. We seem to have too much of it.

"House Stoutheart is stubborn and proud. They do not take kindly to any insult, real or imagined. Yet, do not mistake that for malice. I'd call it misguided pride more than anything else." Luna sighed and stopped to lift a night lily gently from its cradle with her magic, and studied it. "I can only hope time will mellow their hearts, and soften their bitter bile they have been harbouring."

"I seem to recall Lady Pie having said that pastries were invented to change that, and I trust her judgment on the matter, so we shall see."

Luna lets out a little chuckle at Moonshine's last line, looking up at the skyglass. "Yes. Lady Pie has a lot of wise things to say. Even when you think she's merely making another jest, or is part of her exuberant personality. A most misunderstood character, if nothing else." Luna seemed to muse at this thought, then glanced at Moonshine. "Do you think I am guiding the country in the right direction, Moonshine? Am I hopelessly besotted by long-lost ideals, doomed to failure by the tides of time?"

[Kelvin360]

Luna lets out a little chuckle at Moonshine's last line, looking up at the skyglass. "Yes. Lady Pie has a lot of wise things to say. Even when you think she's merely making another jest, or is part of her exuberant personality. A most misunderstood character, if nothing else." Luna seemed to muse at this thought, then glanced at Moonshine. "Do you think I am guiding the country in the right direction, Moonshine? Am I hopelessly besotted by long-lost ideals, doomed to failure by the tides of time?"

The reply to this question is not as immediate as one would expect. There is no shock, no awe, no 'all glory Princess'-ing, merely a moment of serious deliberation. "I think...abolishing the regency was both the best and worst thing you could have done for us. But it is for those who now rule where you and Celestia once did to decide which of those it will be. Our days seem blind, painful, and full of unsatisfactory answers to incomprehensible questions, but I seem to recall that I was the same way when I first learned...anything. Walking, speaking, reading, flying, and yes, even acting in your name. This is the way of things, of allowing one's children to grow on their own. You had centuries to learn how to govern Equestria. Our lifetimes mark in the mere decades, and even if you count us all as a part of the same being, we are but newborns. Such is the way of power. Those unprepared for it must learn how to use it properly, but it is a process. It is easy to cast blame, to become angry with their failures, but it is much more rewarding to have hope that they will improve, and feel the thrill of vindication when they..." she places an absent forehoof on her belly. "Grow up."

"That said, it is still comforting to know that you are watching over us if we...cut ourselves playing with knives, as it were."

[Grif]

The reply to this question is not as immediate as one would expect. There is no shock, no awe, no 'all glory Princess'-ing, merely a moment of serious deliberation. "I think...abolishing the regency was both the best and worst thing you could have done for us. But it is for those who now rule where you and Celestia once did to decide which of those it will be. Our days seem blind, painful, and full of unsatisfactory answers to incomprehensible questions, but I seem to recall that I was the same way when I first learned...anything. Walking, speaking, reading, flying, and yes, even acting in your name. This is the way of things, of allowing one's children to grow on their own. You had centuries to learn how to govern Equestria. Our lifetimes mark in the mere decades, and even if you count us all as a part of the same being, we are but newborns. Such is the way of power. Those unprepared for it must learn how to use it properly, but it is a process. It is easy to cast blame, to become angry with their failures, but it is much more rewarding to have hope that they will improve, and feel the thrill of vindication when they..." she places an absent forehoof on her belly. "Grow up."

"That said, it is still comforting to know that you are watching over us if we...cut ourselves playing with knives, as it were."

Moonshine may or may not notice that her words were bringing a small, slight smile to the Princess' lips. "This is perhaps the first time I heard it put quite that way. I appreciate your sincere thoughts, Moonshine." Luna brought the night lily to her muzzle and savoured the fragrance delicately, its violet petals waving ever so delicately. "Did you know the night lily only blooms once a year, and under the full moon? It's fragile petals only last for a day at most before it wilts away into nothingness. But for that brief few hours, it reigns as the most beautiful flower amongst its peers." The princess smiled and offers the flower to Moonshine.

[Kelvin360]

Moonshine may or may not notice that her words were bringing a small, slight smile to the Princess' lips. "This is perhaps the first time I heard it put quite that way. I appreciate your sincere thoughts, Moonshine." Luna brought the night lily to her muzzle and savoured the fragrance delicately, its violet petals waving ever so delicately. "Did you know the night lily only blooms once a year, and under the full moon? It's fragile petals only last for a day at most before it wilts away into nothingness. But for that brief few hours, it reigns as the most beautiful flower amongst its peers." The princess smiled and offers the flower to Moonshine.

The paladin accepts the flower gently and inhales its scent, the smile of reminisce crossing her face. "I remember these...my father kept a whole garden of them when I was a filly, collected over the years. He used to say that if we planted enough, when they blossomed under your moon, you would be able to see their light, and know that we still had faith, even if we...did not know where you were."

[Grif]

The paladin accepts the flower gently and inhales its scent, the smile of reminisce crossing her face. "I remember these...my father kept a whole garden of them when I was a filly, collected over the years. He used to say that if we planted enough, when they blossomed under your moon, you would be able to see their light, and know that we still had faith, even if we...did not know where you were."

The Princess laughed, mirth ringing in her voice. "Ha, that sounds like old Moonlight, alright. He always had a weakness for the romantic and the symbolic. The latter is to be expected of someone of his rank... the former, not so much." Luna winked and resumed her slow trot.

[Kelvin360]

The Princess laughed, mirth ringing in her voice. "Ha, that sounds like old Moonlight, alright. He always had a weakness for the romantic and the symbolic. The latter is to be expected of someone of his rank... the former, not so much." Luna winked and resumed her slow trot.

"He is usually more reserved and...rigmund, appropriately enough. But he has a soft spot for, well, you." A blush tinges her cheeks.

[Grif]

"He is usually more reserved and...rigmund, appropriately enough. But he has a soft spot for, well, you." A blush tinges her cheeks.

"So I have heard," Luna says with a chuckle. "And perhaps heard from the stallion himself when he found the opportunity to relax and drink one too many cups of wine." Is that another suggestive wink from the Princess?

[Kelvin360]

To her credit, Moonshine doesn't lose her composure entirely (she doesn't even look very surprised), but she stops in place and opens her mouth uselessly to respond a few times.

"Now now, usually dumbfounding her with well-placed innuendo is my job."

So of course that's the dramatically appropriate time for Feathergrin to make an appearance. Moonshine's expression changes in a heartbeat; she immediately puts on a paladinic demeanor that Luna can see through like glass. Not only is she unpleasantly surprised to see her husband, she's equal parts P.O.'ed and terrified.

The bard approaches, apparently blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil, and offers the pair a polite bow. "Good afternoon, m'ladies."

"You're here," Moonshine says tonelessly. "How did you find us?"

"I was able to track your shadow displacement with a telescope, from fragments of iridium, and a dash of sparkling water on the cobblestones."

This is met with a pause ad tightening of pegasi jaws. "And the real reason?"

If he didn't know something was wrong before, he does now. His eyebrows only drop fractionally, but clearly her mood is spreading. "The gardener told me...am I interrupting something deeper than I thought?"