Rarity had done an exemplary job of sizing the suit for me and following my specifications; it fit even better than the one I'd worn for my interviews coming out of college, and was appropriately subdued for the occasion- and she'd thoughtfully included a matching eyepatch for me as well. The suit also did a good job of protecting me from the cold of the grey, overcast morning, the thick cloud deck organized by the local weather team according to their pre-planned schedule, but in my mind also giving the funeral of Farris Wheel a respectfully somber atmosphere.

It had been a somewhat small affair. Apparently his parents couldn't be located and he'd had no known siblings or extended family, but the crew of the theater where Wheel had been working had attended, and while there hadn't been an invitation for anyone to speak for him, judging by the many teary eyes it was plain to see that he was missed by those he'd worked with. Also there were Silver Wisk and the two Hooves brothers- the stallions had been trying to console the weeping mare, without much success- and, to my surprise, Aircolt Wind and Sergeant York.

I stood in front of the simple gravestone that marked his final resting place, with Wisk next to me. She'd apparently cried herself out, gazing forlornly at her friend's memorial in silence along with me for a little while, before she spoke in a voice that was more of a croak than anything at first. “I wish he'd never met Top,” she said quietly. “Wheelie had so much potential... but he wasted it in that sideshow.” She looked up at me. “I know we did wrong by you and Sveti, Peter; I can't ever excuse it. But Farris Wheel wasn't a monster.”

I let out a soft sigh. “I know, Wisk. I guess after seeing just what Top was capable of, I understand a little better how he kept all of you in line.” My eye returned to the gravestone. “Even if I still wanted to hate him... he didn't deserve to die.” After another long moment of quiet, I turned to face her. “What are you and the brothers going to do now?”

“Stout and Strong want to get out of Canterlot, and I don't blame them.” Wisk offered up a humorless chuckle. “They say they've got relatives in Ponyville they'd like to catch up with. You've been there, haven't you? What's it like?”

“It's a really nice place. A little... odd, but they'd probably do well there. Sveti and I would probably move there if we didn't have the embassy to run....” I shrugged. “But yeah, I imagine they'd be fine.” I considered for a moment. “What about you?”

“...I don't know.” Her voice was small, defeated. “Wheel... was really all I had. Stout and Strong could always take care of themselves; they stuck with us because of what had happened, not out of any need. But Wheelie was like a kid brother to me....” She paused. “No. He was like a son to me, the one I never had, and I wanted to help him succeed. Now that he's... gone....” Her voice broke, and she took a moment to collect herself. “I don't know what to do with myself.”

I understood that feeling all too well, but before I could think of what to say in reply, someone else beat me to it.

“Wisk.” Both of us turned at Sveti's voice; she was carefully making her way towards us, her movements somewhat hindered by the bandages wrapped around her midsection and wing. Just like every other time I'd seen her since we'd gotten out of the hospital, I found myself fighting the urge to pick her up and carry her wherever she needed to go. “Look,” she said, gazing at the mare with a neutral expression. “I know you and I have not had the best history, but... in the interest of new beginnings, I can offer you a position in the embassy. We have room in the budget for one more employee, and we wouldn't mind having a good cook on staff.”

Wisk stared at her in astonishment for a moment, then lowered her head. “I... I couldn't, Sveti. After all that's happened-”

Sveti surprised both Wisk and me when she reached out to gently place a claw on the mare's withers. “After all that's happened... you're a mare who lost someone that you cared for, because of the actions of a maniac. I know how that feels, Wisk.” A small but gentle smile crossed Sveti's beak. “I want to erase Big Top; I want to destroy as much of his legacy as I can. It's too late to do that for Wheel... but I think I can find it in myself to do it for you.”

Mare and hen stared at each other for a moment... and then Wisk broke down in fresh tears, resting her head against Sveti's chest and weeping. I knelt down next to the pony to lightly rub her back. “I'm sorry,” she sobbed. “I'm sorry. I wish I could take it all back.”

“I know, Wisk,” Sveti murmured. “I know. But we have to move on; what's done is done. This may be where we've buried Wheel, but... let it be the place where we bury Top, too.”

“...yeah.” Wisk slowly stepped back, nodding in agreement. “You're right. Wheel's the one who we ought to carry along with us.”

With that, the three of us turned and left the gravesite, Sveti and I on either side of Wisk as comforting presences. As we approached the small group waiting at the edge of the road that ran through the cemetery, we heard a quiet exclamation-

“The Badlands?!”

The speaker turned out to be Swift Wind, the question directed- along with an incredulous look- towards Peppermint York. Both pegasi were decked out in smart-looking dress uniforms; I took a moment to try to figure out how they were made to accommodate wings, seeing some cleverly-disguised buttons within reach of a pegasus's mouth. “What about 'Badlands'?” I asked, not familiar with the term.

Both guards turned towards me. “Sergeant York says that she's going to be transferring to the Badlands once the inquiry is done,” Wind told me. “Willingly!”

Sveti and Wisk both winced, but I still didn't see the significance. “What's bad about that?” I asked.

“Trust me, there's a reason that only seven ponies have actually volunteered to transfer to the Badlands in the last twenty years.” Wind shook his head.

“Eight ponies, now,” York chuckled.

The stallion gave his superior a disbelieving glance before turning back to us. “It's hot in the morning, freezing at night, and the barracks are a bunch of tents. It's dozens of miles away from anything aside from sun-baked rock and cacti. Most ponies in the Guard think getting assigned there is a punishment detail.”

Sveti frowned slightly. “I know you're worried about reprisals after you testify, Sergeant, but... isn't the Badlands a bit overdoing it?”

“It isn't just because of that.” York's smile faded. “There's a few border towns out there that the Guard protects; even though they're within the borders of Equestria, ponies are actually in the minority of the population. I decided... that if I'm going to leave Canterlot, I might as well go somewhere where I can learn to work with other species.”

I looked her in the eyes. “This is about what Big Top did to you, isn't it?” I asked quietly.

After a moment, her gaze lowered to the ground. “If I'm being honest... yes, a large part of it is,” she admitted. “I want him to have been wrong about me, Peter. I don't want to be the pony he tried to bring out of me. The way he just seemed to reach into my head and pull out those resentments I thought I'd given up....” She shook her head and looked back up at me. “If nothing else, it'll be my penance for what I've done. A year out in Tartarus's backyard to make up for the half-year I spent trying to make your life miserable.”

“Look, Sergeant, I'm alright with you just testifying against the nobles you were working with; that in itself is enough for me. But if this is what you feel you have to do... then I wish you luck.” I gave her a smile. “Maybe come see us once you get back. It sounds like you'll have some stories to tell.”

“I'll do that.” She raised a hoof, and I shook it gently; she did the same with Sveti after. “In the meantime... could I get someone to send me a letter when Wheel's play comes out? I doubt I'll get a chance to see it before my tour is over, and I'd like to know how it is without having to wait half the year.”

“Yeah, I'll do that for you, Sarge.” Wind smiled.

“Great, I'd appreciate it.” Her ears pricked up when she heard the ringing of a bell echoing across the cemetery “That's the two o'clock chime... I suppose I'd better go get ready to make my initial deposition for the inquiry. This is going to be a long week.”

The rest of us wished her good luck, and she took to the air, heading off towards the center of the city. Wind excused himself a few moments later, quoting a need to return to the guard barracks, and we exchanged goodbyes with him before he also soared off, leaving just myself, Sveti, Wisk and the two Hooves brothers at the wrought-iron gate leading into the cemetery. “Wisk tells us that you two want to move out to Ponyville,” Sveti said to the stallions.

Strong nodded. “Canterlot isn't our kind of town, not by a long shot. We're both kind of surprised the two of you are staying after everything that's happened, even considering the embassy.”

Sveti chuckled. “If it wasn't for the embassy, we might be catching the Friendship Express to Ponyville with the two of you,” she told them.

Stout broke out in a silent laugh, reaching over and nudging Wisk with a forehoof; Strong snickered. “Told you, Wisk,” he said. “You ought to come with us. Why stick around this lousy city? What do you have here now, aside from a part-time short-order cook job?”

“Well, um....” Wisk glanced back at us. “Sveti... offered me a job in the embassy.”

“She did?” The brothers looked at each other in shock; Stout's ears and mouth moved for a moment. “Yeah....” Strong said. “My brother says he's honestly surprised, and so am I, really. You've got a good heart, Miss Windwhisper... there's a lot of ponies who couldn't find it in themselves to show that sort of forgiveness.” Stout caught his brother's attention and made a few more movements, and then a smile crossed Strong's face. “He also says... that he hopes you and Peter have a long and peaceful life together.”

It wasn't long before the twins and Wisk excused themselves- the stallions to start packing for their move, the mare to get some rest- leaving Sveti and I alone. Her fur was warm against my palm as I rested my hand on her back, and she leaned gently against me; I could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, and after almost having lost her, I found myself cherishing every last sensation of her existence. “How is your wing feeling?” I asked.

“Sore, but tolerable. I'm probably going to take another dose of potion and a nap when we get back to the embassy.” I saw her glance at the sling holding the wing immobile while it healed. “Funny that I never flew much while I had two working wings, but now I'm aching to get back into the skies.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” I chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck right at the point where fur became feathers; she let out a quiet sigh and closed her eyes. We both stood silently for a moment before I spoke again. “I wish we'd given Wheel more of a chance,” I said. “I mean... he gave his life for someone he thought hated him. That doesn't feel right to me.”

“I understand.” She reached up to rub my back. “I do sort of feel the same way. I just... maybe it's selfish of me, but I'm grateful to him for what he did. I just wish it hadn't cost him his life.”

“It isn't selfish.” I let out a soft sigh. “I guess there's nothing we can do now but move on, and give our support to his play once it's released. Let it be his legacy.” I gave her a smile, lightly patting her crest. “Oh, and also... I'm proud of you for what you told Wisk.”

“Well, it was true. When I saw her holding Wheel's body....” She went quiet for a moment. “I think she's suffered enough; don't you? I just want to move on with my life. I'm tired of hating.”

My smile grew, and I gently caressed the side of her neck. “You know what? A nap sounds really good right now. Let's go home.”

It was a long and quiet walk back to the embassy, the contemplative silence helping me to sort through my thoughts, and I sensed that the same was true for Sveti, judging by her expressions. When we'd gotten back to the building- and checked in on Neat Niche, who was resting comfortably in her quarters with permission from her doctor; Niche had insisted on being allowed to return to her “home away from home” and “family away from family”- we notified the rest of the staff that we'd be getting some rest and that they were free to do as they liked until dinner, and that we were likely to be bringing in another staff member in the near future. When they found out that Sveti meant to hire Wisk, the others were surprised- but readily accepted the gryphon's rationale, and promised to give the mare a warm welcome.

It didn't take me long to get changed into a pair of light pants and and slip into bed, but unfortunately once I'd dozed off I ran into the same problem I had been nearly every night since Big Top's attack on the embassy- nightmares. In some sort of attempt to come to terms with what had happened, my mind insisted on replaying everything that had happened that night, only even worse... in my nightmares, Niche died from her head wound, Sveti never survived her fall out the window, and Wheel had never come to my defense, leaving me to die miserably from a crossbow shot to the gut. It seemed like almost every night that I woke up at least once in sweat-soaked terror, and the lack of meaningful sleep was starting to wear on me. There were points where I was in all seriousness considering asking Luna to start visiting my dreams again just so I could get a full night's rest.

This time, though, it wasn't the nightmare that awoke me, but a gentle yet insistent claw shaking my shoulder. “Peter,” Sveti said quietly. “Please, wake up.”

I forced my way back to consciousness to find the gryphon standing over me, looking down at me with concerned, tired-looking eyes. A quick glance at the wall clock showed that I'd only put my head on the pillow an hour ago. “Huh...?” I groaned. “Oh... sorry. I was having a nightmare.”

“I know. I could tell.” She ran her talons through my hair. “I... I've been having the same problem myself.”

“I thought you'd been looking tired.” I gave her a comforting smile, gently patting her claw. “I don't think anyone can blame either of us.”

“Mmh.” She nodded slowly, her eyes gazing down at the bed. “Peter... I know this might sound a little strange, but I... I think I'd sleep better if I was with you. I was actually coming in here to ask you if I could when I found you having your own nightmare.”

It was telling that I saw less of an issue with being half-naked in bed with a non-human creature than I did with being half-naked in bed with a fully-naked Sveti. At a base level I knew it was a ridiculous thing to be concerned about, what with her going unclothed pretty much every moment of the day, but with how close we'd become, the intimacy of this situation was much more pronounced. All the same, I quashed any concerns; she needed me to be there for her... and truthfully, I needed her, too. “Okay,” I said, pulling the blankets back. “I apologize in advance if I wake you up, though.”

“Likewise.” She climbed into my bed, and I drew the covers over her; she laid her uninjured wing over me in return, snuggling into my bare chest. “Your skin is so warm,” she murmured.

“I think you've got the market cornered on warmth, though,” I teased, ruffling the fur on her back lightly. “Hang on... let me take this eyepatch off. I've been trying to get used to sleeping with it on, but I'm not quite there yet.”

I slipped the patch off and laid it on the bedside table, and when I turned back around I found Sveti gazing sadly at my missing eye. “It still hurts me to see that,” she said. “I've always loved your eyes....”

“Well, I've still got the spare.” I smiled. “And besides... considering what I could have lost-” I rubbed her cheek- “one eye doesn't seem so bad.”

She pulled me against her in a tight embrace, letting out a quiet chirring sound of happiness and tucking her head up under my chin. And I didn't mind the sharp beak that was pressed against my throat, because I knew as an absolute truth that its owner would give her life for me... and that I'd do the same for her.

That knowledge did as much as her gentle warmth to lull me into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

(-)

“...and after a thorough review of the evidence, Your Highnesses, the prosecutor's office has declined to press charges against Sveti Windwhisper. We find that her actions were well within the limits of defense of self and others, that attempting to notify the Guard instead of returning to the scene could have resulted in further deaths, and that no other resolution to the situation was realistically within her grasp.” The unicorn stallion looked around at the assembled nobles and politicians. “While we are naturally predisposed to finding peaceful solutions to all situations, we recognize that this is not always possible.”

“Thank you, Just Cause.” Twilight smiled before turning her gaze to the assembly. “Unfortunately, the prosecutor's office still has a large amount of work ahead of it, as do a number of other departments. Our preliminary investigations have uncovered a shockingly wide conspiracy, directly at odds with the safety and security of this nation and its citizens and allies. To say that your Princesses are disappointed would be understating it mightily.” She turned towards where her “guest of honor” was seated; Silver Star had been given freedom from any restraints, mundane or magical, but under the gazes of Celestia and Luna he might as well have had chains over every inch of him for all the unwillingness he showed towards moving a muscle. “Mister Star, you've willingly agreed to testify before Parliament. But before I begin my line of questioning, I have one thing I'd like to ask you- not as Princess to subject, but as one pony to another.” She gave him the most neutral look she could manage. “Why did you do it, Mister Star?”

The stallion sat sullenly in his chair, saying nothing.

“Mister Star,” Twilight said, “I will remind you that you Pinkie promised to answer all questions put to you today.”

That broke him out of his reticence. “You, Princess Twilight. I did it because of you.”

“Because of... me?”

“Your ascension was a mistake. We trust Princess Celestia with the very underpinnings of our world, but how she could select some... some bumpkin like you to become royalty is inconceivable! You know nothing of how politics works in this city, nothing of its deepest traditions and culture, and you dismiss this Parliament and the nobility as no more important than a common street-sweeper! It would have been better if you'd gone back to that speck of dirt called Ponyville, and somepony with some notion of what this nation needs had been given that power instead. You're not fit to rule.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight saw Luna open her mouth to speak- only to stop from a nearly-imperceptible shake of Celestia's head; Twilight was thankful for that, because she knew just what she had to say. “Is that what you believe, Mister Star?” she asked, careful to keep her voice and expression as calm as she could. “That I'm unfit to rule because I don't understand traditions or politics, because I don't have or value the 'noble bloodlines' you cherish so completely?” Rather than wait for an answer, she advanced towards Star. “Would you tell me that you would do better in this position than I have, Mister Star?”

He leaned back in obvious surprise and discomfort. “I... I, well, that is to say, perhaps not myself, but there are a number of other nobles-”

She cut him off with a raised forehoof. “Well. In that case, let's take note of what resulted from the plan that you and certain other nobles- who no doubt represent the 'cream of the crop' in your mind- formulated.” She came to a stop in front of the table Star was seated at, staring directly into his eyes. “You enlisted the aid of a complete psychopath, a wanted fugitive, whom you allowed to spread harmful rumors about an innocent creature. You and your cabal of nobles maneuvered to politically isolate Peter Collins, to persecute Sveti Windwhisper- even conspired to frame one of your own, Prince Blueblood, for your plan to disrupt my research... a plan, I might add, could have resulted in the death of myself and everyone nearby, reopening old breaches into a parallel plane, and even the utter destruction of Canterlot itself.” She paused for a moment, both to take a breath and to let everything she'd said sink in. “As a result of your actions, Farris Wheel, a promising actor and playwright, lost his life. As a result of your actions, a young filly by the name of Dewdrop nearly lost hers. As a result of your actions, there has been untold needless suffering and conflict that could have been avoided otherwise. You let petty jealousy and short-sightedness gallop roughshod over everything this nation stands for.” She reared up and slammed her forehooves down on the table, her stern look becoming a furious glare. “And you dare tell me that I am unfit to rule?!”

The stallion shrank away from her as if she'd turned into a timberwolf, and she had the strangest feeling that her mane might just be starting to catch fire; she set all four hooves on the floor, taking a short break to regain her composure. “Ahem. My apologies for that outburst, stallions and gentlemares... my feelings got the best of me. Rest assured that it won't happen again.”

Keeping that promise over the following four hours proved more difficult than she'd thought. Though he'd promised to answer every question put to him, Star was a master of doubletalk; every last response seemed designed to shift blame away from himself, to paint ideas as coming from his co-conspirators or Big Top, and to show himself as somepony caught up in events out of his control. That little tactic lasted until Air Sergeant Peppermint York was brought in to testify, and her pointed and detailed testimony about their meetings and the directions he'd given her were nothing short of a sledgehammer blow to his wall of lies. By the time Celestia called for a recess, Star's defiant, confident demeanor had completely collapsed, and his head hung so low as he was escorted to his temporary quarters that his nose was nearly scraping the floor.

As soon as decorum allowed, Twilight teleported into the science wing, where two creatures she was far more eager to work with waited for her. “Wow,” Peter said quietly, looking her over with his remaining eye. “Rough day, Princess?”

“I take it that the first day of the inquiry was less than enjoyable,” Sveti added, sympathy clear in her voice.

“Oooh, I don't even want to think about it right now.” Twilight shook her head. “If those nobles give either of you half the headache they've given me, I... I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be pleasant!” She stopped stock still, then sighed. “I'm thinking about it! Argh. Could you two excuse me for just a few seconds?”

When both of them nodded, she concentrated, and teleported herself away to the apex of Mount Kimblemarejaro, and then let out a frustrated scream- amplified by the Royal Canterlot Voice, and thank Celestia for teaching me that- that echoed across the rocky crags and shimmering glaciers.

They're probably wondering why I have snow in my mane now, was her first thought after she returned and saw their confused stares. “Sorry. I just needed to get that out of my system someplace where I wouldn't burst any eardrums.” She gave them both an apologetic smile. “So! Peter, I have what I hope is going to be some fantastic news for you.” She turned. “Able?”

“Right here, Princess.” Able Assistant carefully carried a gleaming metal tray on her back, on which were laid a number of varied objects; the unicorn grasped the tray in her mouth and placed it on a table. “We've ensured that all of these components are magically inert.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Able.” Twilight turned back to her guests. “Peter, I'll need your help with this step,” she said. “I want to do as much as possible to keep this device magic-free until it's ready for use, and you're the only one who can manipulate the pieces without any sort of trace magic leaching through.”

“Okay. Tell me what need to do.” He flexed those impossibly dexterous fingers; Twilight caught both herself and Sveti staring.

Am I blushing? Focus, Twilight, focus! “...ahem! Yes. Let's begin.”

She explained the source and purpose of each piece as she had him assemble the device. “Those two pieces make up the shell; they're solid silver, and can be treated with with any normal tarnish remover you can find in markets. The hinges will click together, just like that. That next piece is a crystal from the caverns underneath Canterlot; if you've heard about when Cadance was abducted before her wedding, that's where the Changeling Queen kept her. This crystal has been specially carved to serve as a sort of focusing dish, to reflect magic on one side and concentrate it on the other. Set it in the left side of the frame there; the clasps will hold it in place.” She smiled. “And now this, the pièce de résistance, as Rarity would say: A framework of murium, to conduct incoming magic into a central area.”

“Murium?” Sveti repeated. “Has Equestria developed that? The Empire wouldn't sell a flake of that for all the bits in Fort Hocks; they only give that to....” The griffin paused, then grinned. “...you got it from the charm those soldiers who tried to take Peter left behind, didn't you?” she asked.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that, Miss Windwhisper.” Twilight’s eyelid dropped in a quick wink. “As the Empire has not officially acknowledged any attack on the embassy, the Equestrian government has received no actionable requests to return anything that may or may not have been left behind.”

The pair of humored- and grateful- grins she got warmed her heart. “And now, the most important part of the assembly,” she said, carefully lifting a small bag onto the tray with her mouth. “These gems have been enchanted to act as thaumatic batteries. The murium assembly will hold the gem until it’s taken in all the magical energy it can hold, then pop it out with an audible sound.”

Peter blinked as realization crossed his face. “Princess Twilight... you make this to pull magic out from me?”

“Aww. You ruined the big reveal! That’s the part I like best.” She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. “But you’re exactly right; the purpose of this apparatus is to both prevent further magic from being drawn through you and to deplete the accumulated magic at a safe and constant rate. And you can thank the folks in Ponyville for a lot of difficult research that gave me a great basis to work with in the design once the methodology was settled. They saved me as much as a month’s worth of cross-referencing and cataloging.”

At her assent, Peter finished assembling the small pendant- barely larger than a coaster used for drinks- and then slipped it over his head and let it hang by its chain around his neck. “How is that?” Twilight asked. “Not too heavy, or uncomfortable?”

“No, it not bad at all,” the human replied. “But is safe to take off, sometimes? Not think want to sleep with it.”

“According to our calculations you should be fine having it off for things like sleeping and bathing, but I have a test in mind to make sure. Could you have a seat in this chair, Peter?” He complied, and Twilight teleported in a trio of stands topped with thaumatic “weathervanes”, usually used to find leaks in “clean rooms” and other places where magical stability was needed. She carefully placed the stands around Peter in a triangle formation at about one pony-length distance.

“Princess?” Sveti asked. “How exactly does this work? I mean, if that crystal reflects incoming magic, shouldn’t it only work with magical energy that’s physically in front of him?”

“That’s... a really technical issue that deals with metaphysics and the frequencies of physical matter. Suffice it to say that this apparatus will repel magic from all around him, rather than let it flow through him and into the backlog.” Twilight looked down at the nearest sensor and smiled. “And it looks like it’s doing its job! There’s almost zero thaumatic flux in your vicinity. Now let’s leave the medallion on for a few minutes to check its rate of absorption, and while we’re waiting on that I’ll fill you two in on what you can expect during testimony.”

It took her only about five minutes or so to give them an overview of the procedures they’d see at play- there’d be no intense cross-questioning, but pretty much anypony in Parliament would be allowed to ask questions, though neither of them would be obliged to answer. “This is a Parliamentary inquiry, not a trial,” she explained. “Think of it as a fact-finding procedure of a sort. We’re primarily looking to formally discover what happened, and how it affected those involved. I’ve got a few surprises in store, but I think you’ll find them to be good ones.” She smiled. “Peter, could you remove the amulet and set it on that tray, then open it for me?”

He did so, and Twilight carefully took a thin metallic rod with a long gauge set inside of it off of the nearby table, then touched the end against the gem inside the medallion. She then checked the sensors set around the human to find them indicating a small magical draw towards him. “Yes!” she exclaimed, almost forgetting herself for a moment. “The medallion is pulling thaumatic energy from the reservoir at a steady and acceptable rate, and without it touching you, your magical ‘draw-in’ is at the same rate it was before you used it.”

Sveti stared at her with an expression of mixed incredulity and hope. “...you mean it works?” she asked.

“It works! We’ve found a way to drain the thaumatic reservoir safely, without harm to Peter!” She took in a deep breath to calm herself down for her next sentence when she suddenly found herself in the tight embrace of griffin forelegs.

“Thank you,” Sveti whispered. “Thank you, Princess. I... I couldn’t have....”

She seemed to remember herself and began to pull away, a look of shock crossing her face, and Twilight stopped her with a comforting hoof and a gentle smile. “It’s okay. I understand.”

Slender fingers laid themselves against Sveti’s shoulder; Peter’s face was a mask of utter relief. “Princess,” he said, “I not able say how thankful I am. This has been....” He shook his head slowly and let out a long sigh. “I was scared, I can admit.”

He glanced between Twilight and himself, and she couldn’t quite hold back a giggle. “I’m not sure how things work on Earth or in the Griffin Empire,” she said, “but here in Equestria it is entirely acceptable to hug a princess.”

The human broke out in laughter as he knelt down to wrap his arms around her neck. The embrace was astonishingly tender from a creature with such considerable natural strength, and the gentleness of those hands and fingers.... Sveti, you are a lucky hen, she thought. “Okay, go ahead and get that amulet on again,” she said, watching as he once more slipped it over his head. “Now, I do have to be the bearer of a couple of pieces of less-good news. Nothing enormous, mind you, but you should know this.” She took a seat on the stool nearby. “Firstly... this process of draining the magical backlog is going to take quite some time. We’re projecting somewhere along the lines of five to six years, potentially longer. Fortunately, the gems you’ll need for the amulet are plentiful and easily enchanted; I’ve already taught several unicorns employed by the Crowns how to do so, and Rarity and Ember Flare in Ponyville also volunteered to learn the process in case you should happen to need more while you’re there. As Rarity’s special talent is finding gems, she’ll be very helpful if that need arises.”

Peter smiled. “Please say ‘thanks’ to them for us.”

“I’d be happy to.” She returned the smile. “And the second bit of news is probably self-evident, but I’d rather it be clear. With you in this state, I can’t use you as a focal point for any attempts to locate my beacon spell on Earth. Any magic I used on you would simply feed the reservoir and undo everything we’ve worked for; a sufficiently-powerful burst of magic could possibly cause unarrestable backflow, and... well, that’s what we’re trying to avoid.”

Peter nodded slowly, though there was still a trace of sadness on his face. “I figured.”

“But!” Twilight raised a hoof. “That’s not the only avenue open to us. This is a priority issue to the Crowns, Peter; finding you a route home is important to us, and we still sincerely hope that we can one day establish a permanent link between your world and ours. It may take a long time, but we’re committed to this.”

He nodded again with a slight smile. “I appreciate that.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you two deserve nothing less than everything we ponies can do for you.” She glanced up at a wall clock. “Darn, I guess I’d better get back to the Parliament building or I’ll be late. Any more questions before I go?”

“I have one,” Sveti replied. “How long will these gems likely last before filling up?”

“Depending on the quality of the gem and the power of the unicorn enchanting it, anywhere from three days to a week. Nearly-full gems should become slighty warm to the touch and glow dimly in low light. And like I said, they’ll pop free inside the housing when they fill up.” Twilight sighed. “Believe me, you two, I’d much rather stay here and talk than go back there. But we’re going to get this done, so help me Faust. The guards outside will guide you back to your quarters; I’ll see you when it’s your turn to be interviewed.”

After a final goodbye wave, she was gone in a flash.

(-)

“Please state your names for the record.”

“Peter Collins.” “Sveti Windwhisper.”

Celestia watched as Twilight turned to face the assembled ponies. “Stallions and gentlemares, I’ve called these two individuals to testify so that you all can see how the events that have befallen them over the past year have harmed them- events caused by our own kind, through either malice or ignorance, antithetical to our deepest-held beliefs in Harmony and the magic of friendship.”

It was undeniably painful for the Sun Princess to hear their stories again- but it was the pain of a wound being reopened in order to clean out infection, so that true healing could begin. She could actually hear the occasional weeping or muffled sob from the assembled ponies, stallions as well as mares utterly taken aback by what they heard- but apparently not all of them were so affected. “I have a request,” came a stern voice from near the back; a unicorn stallion- one Amber Aura, if she remembered correctly, a conservative sort who had an unfortunate record of voting against many bills and motions meant to aid earth pony farmers- stood against his desk. “Have the human creature remove his eyepatch. I still have a difficult time believing a pony would actually do such a thing.”

“That might not be advisable,” Twilight answered. “The wound is... not pleasant to view.”

Aura’s frown deepened. “Then let us see it, and gain the full impact of what happened.”

Twilight glanced askance at Peter, who nodded in assent. “Very well, then,” the alicorn replied. “I’ll ask that the squeamish look away until this demonstration is over. Peter, if you would?”

One of the sets of doors leading into the hall opened as Peter was removing his eyepatch. A series of gasps and exclamations of shock rippled across the assembly- but a filly’s shout drowned it out a moment later. “Momma?! What happened to his eye?!”

Celestia grimaced inwardly. It seems the delegation from Broncton has arrived early, she mused, worried of the mental impact that the sight of the empty, scarred eye socket would have on the young foal; Peter seemed to have the same thought, and scrambled to get the patch back on. But rather than back off in disgust, the filly immediately galloped into the room as fast as her little legs could carry her, up to the desk that the human and griffin were seated at. “Peter! Sveti!” she exclaimed, practically throwing herself into Peter's arms and leaning over to nuzzle Sveti as well. “I missed you both so much! Peter, what happened to your eye?!”

A bemused-looking mare made her way down towards the center of the hall. “I, uh... I apologize, Your Highnesses,” she called out. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but my daughter isn’t very big on decorum.”

Mild laughter moved through the hall. “It’s quite alright, Miss Dustmop,” Celestia replied. “The exuberance of youth at play.” She looked to the young filly who was gazing unhappily at Peter’s eyepatch. “My dear Dewdrop,” she said, “I understand that you’re happy to see your friends, but if you would, please have a seat at that table there with your family and the others.” She pointed at a wide table with a number of empty seats. “All your questions will be answered as soon as possible.”

“Okay, Princess Celestia.” After one more quick nuzzle for each of her rescuers- and a playful ruffle of her mane by Peter- the filly was escorted by her mother to the table where the rest of her family, and a small number of other Broncton residents, were seated; once everything was settled back down, Twilight smiled again.

“Stallions and gentlemares of Parliament, and honored guests,” she said, “these fine ponies from the town of Broncton have come here today to tell us a story. A story of a frightened, lost creature that nonetheless saved a life in peril, a life that was placed in danger a second time by fear and ignorance. That time, two noble creatures- both of whom had known abuse at the hooves of ponies- risked their own lives for her.”

Twilight proceeded to lay down the tale of Peter’s rescue of Dewdrop from a dangerous stream, then her kidnapping as part of a plot to frame Peter for eating her, and then her subsequent rescue from timberwolves at the edge of the Everfree Forest. There was a barely-detectable undercurrent of anger in the Princess of Magic’s voice as she spoke of the actions of the Ponyville ponies, and an expression of disappointment and disgust showed through the cracks in her calm facade- but Celestia couldn’t blame her in the least; she herself was incredibly upset that her little ponies would resort to such things. Are we so insular now, she wondered, so unaccustomed to anything outside our routine, that this is how we react to anything we might deem threatening? And are we so assured of the inherent goodness of our own kind that we simply ignore the actions of those like Big Top, and assume good intent where we should suspect ill? I hope there will be a good many conversations between ponies once this inquiry is reported in the media.

But her heart was warmed by the kind words that Dewdrop and her family, as well as Corporal Red Crescent and Captain Hammer, had for the young hen and her human companion. Dustmop had no shortage of critical words for the ponies who had done the pair wrong, her blazing anger a sharp contrast to the restrained political tones typically used in Parliament, and countered with the glowing admiration she had for her daughter’s saviors. “As far as I’m concerned, Your Highnesses,” she said, “Peter Collins and Sveti Windwhisper are better examples of what a pony should be than quite a few ponies I could name, and I sincerely hope that my foals grow up to be like them.”

The testimony went on through the day, and by the time Parliament was ready to break for the evening, a fair number of its members looked like they desperately wanted to go home and have a good cry. Even Amber Aura, for all his gruffness, had taken a decidedly more conciliatory tack. “I have to admit,” he said, “that having this situation shown in such a close and personal way... has affected me. I suppose it is easier to rationalize away our malefactors when the harm they cause is little more than an abstract notion, but....” He stared down at his hoof for a moment before looking back up. “Mister Collins, I feel the need to ask you this... do you believe that you can forgive ponies for what has been done to you?”

Peter was silent for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts. “To say ‘forgive ponies’ is... not right,” he answered. “I not hold all ponies responsible for what happened. Some did wrong, yes... but some of those tried to make right, after. Some... gave much to try... even everything.” His gaze flicked towards the attending audience, and Celestia traced it to Silver Wisk, who watched him with a sad smile. “Mister Aura, I not able say ‘I forgive ponies’ because I not blame ‘ponies’. Only want those who attacked me and Sveti be called out.”

Aura nodded slowly. “That is entirely understandable,” he said as he returned to his seat.

Twilight tapped a hoof against the floor, signaling for attention. “Stallions and gentlemares, before we adjourn for the night, I have one more thing I want to show. This arrived just this morning from Ponyville, and I wanted to save it as a surprise for our two friends.” Her horn lit up, and an easel materialized next to the desk where Peter and Sveti were seated; something wide was set atop it, covered by a thin purple sheet. Twilight’s magical field tugged the sheet away, revealing a hoof-made cardboard greeting card, almost two bodylengths in width, with “THANK YOU” written across the top, while the rest was completely covered in writing in numerous different styles, from foalish scrawled crayon to elegant ink script. “The citizens of Ponyville made this for Sveti and Peter,” Twilight explained. “They wanted to show their support for two friends who were facing a possible tragedy. Each message written on this card is from somepony whose life has been touched by them, even if only lightly.”

Celestia turned her gaze towards Peter and Sveti, finding them both staring at the giant card with wide eyes and slack jaws. The surprised joy on their faces felt like honeyed balm to her soul. It is a small thing, she thought, but they deserve whatever happiness they can find after all they have undergone.

Parliament adjourned shortly after, and as she headed towards the throne room for the final nightly briefing and the hoof-over to Luna’s Night Court, she spared a glance at the departing nobles- specifically Amber Aura, who looked much less confident and self-absorbed than he had in the morning. Good, she thought with a mental smile. I want my ponies to think about all of this, to question themselves on how they see others. I want those who were involved with tormenting Peter and Sveti to see the harm of their actions up-close; I would much rather rely on a guilty conscience to bring in more confessions than a direct threat of punishment. I know that many of my little ponies will do what’s right when they truly understand what wrongs they have committed.

And for those who will not... well, they will have no right to complain when their punishment is compounded.

(-)

“I beg thee forgive my tardiness.” Luna followed her words into her antechamber, excusing her guards with a glance, before stopping in front of Sveti and Peter seated on one of the comfortable couches along the sides of the room. “There were... difficulties with the reform discussions in which I was engaged this afternoon.”

Both of her guests stood, and Sveti gave a small bow while Peter nodded in a somewhat respectful manner. “Politics as usual in Canterlot, Your Highness?” the hen asked.

“As usual, aye.” She couldn’t quite help letting out a quiet sigh. “But I am certain that neither of you is interested in hearing tales of property laws and tax codes, nor of the generations of self-centered nobles who crafted an absolute beast of legalese excrem-” She caught herself. “Again, I beg thy pardon. I should not, as mine sister might say, ‘bring my work home with me’.”

Peter gave her a sympathetic smile. “I remember a joke from home,” he said. “Our word for politics-” he said something that sounded like pah-lee-tyx- “come from two other words. ‘Pahlee’, means ‘many’, and ‘tyx’, means ‘ticks’.”

Luna burst into laughter. “So true!” she guffawed, holding a hoof up to her lips to try to stifle her mirth. “I must remember to share that quip with mine sister. She is a wise and fair leader in many ways, but she would herself admit that the intricacies of lawmaking are not amongst her strengths.” After a moment to get the chuckles out of her system, she shook her head. “I do appreciate the levity, Peter. As you have asked, allow me to show you and Sveti some interesting artifacts from the early reaches of Equestria’s history, and even afore. The two of you have waited more than long enough for this.”

There was little fear of thieves attempting to steal her personal collection; between warding spells, traps and guards, the various objects she kept for sentimentality or potential need of use were as safe as if they were in a vault. But despite the plethora of history contained within, ponies seldom asked to partake of the displays aside from the occasional archaeologist or researcher- so it was something of a personal pleasure for her to be able to guide two friends through it, and give first-hoof accounts of the many battles, rescues and friendships involved.

Many modern ponies would have been unnerved, maybe even somewhat frightened by tales of conflict in Equestria’s past, but the two creatures before her seemed completely enthralled. It made sense to her; griffinkind had a long and distinctive history of martial readiness, and if the human weapons she’d seen- and used- in the Astral Plane were any indication, Peter’s species was no slouch in that department either. It felt undeniably nice to have her stories and remembrances appreciated, and she found herself resisting the irrational urge to prance a bit as she brought them to the centerpiece of her collection. “And here is a weapon that did much to secure the peaceful era that Equestria enjoys today,” she said. “I named it Evening Crescent, but it gained many other names from those few enemies who saw it in battle and lived to tell the tale- Foeharvest, Star Edge, Raven’s Call, Nightchill.” She touched a hoof against the magically-reinforced glass of the display case housing the long-hafted, silver-bladed scythe.

“This is incredible,” Sveti breathed. “I’d read about Raven’s Call in history classes, that Empress Einfrid sent a quarter of the Fourteenth Legion against you alone to take it during the Crystal Incursion, only to see just sixteen survivors return empty-clawed. I never thought I’d get to see it with my own two eyes.”

“Aye. I remember that battle.” Luna pursed her lips. “I took no joy in slaying your kin, Sveti Windwhisper. Indeed, I was furious at the Empress for wasting so many noble lives for a mere trophy. She was bound to have known that Evening Crescent would have reduced her to ash had she ever tried to use it.”

“I know, Your Highness. Griffin history doesn't recall her fondly; we call her the Scarlet Fiend for a reason.”

Peter raised his hand. “How many griffins in that fight?”

“Eight hundred, give or take,” answered Luna.

“Eight hundred... against you. And you kill all but sixteen?”

“The battle was not as one-sided as you seem to envision.” Luna’s eyes swept across the other relics in the hall. “I was at the height of my power, yes, but I was also in possession of no small number of powerful magical weapons aside from my scythe, and quite familiar with the terrain. And I did not leave the battle unscathed.”

The human seemed to absorb this for a moment before his expression became contemplative. “Sounds like old battle in human history,” he said. “Fifteen hundred solders held mountain pass from one hundred fifty thousand invaders for two whole days. This was long time ago, when humans had only bronze spears and shields.”

Luna’s eyebrow raised. “Astounding. How did the invaders break through?”

“A traitor. He showed invaders secret pass to flank defenders. Most died and battle was lost, but invaders eventually were stopped, forced to retreat and lost many soldiers on the way.”

A smile crossed the lunar princess’s lips. “Thou’rt quite studied on your history.”

“Not as much as would like....” Peter’s own smile was sheepish. “Saw film about battle, heard was very wrong, looked up facts. Found them interesting.”

“ ‘Tis far better than naught. Would that many of mine ponies held such interest.”

Sveti snorted playfully. “All the stories about griffin history I’ve been giving you, Peter, and now I find out you’ve been holding out on me? I expect to hear more about this battle later.” She gave him a light shove against his side.

Luna’s amused nicker was cut short by the approaching hooffalls of one of the Lunar Guard; the thestral bowed her head respectfully and leaned upwards to whisper. “Your Highness, the committee has reached an impasse again and requests your input,” she reported.

It was a difficult thing to resist, the urge to facehoof right then and there. She opened her mouth to reply that she would be along shortly... and then caught sight of the two creatures- her two friends- that stood patiently by. “No,” she said, loud enough to be heard by everypony. “Sergeant, you may tell the committee that their Princess is indisposed, and that they may either resolve the impasse themselves, or they will be disbanded and replacements found forthwith.”

The barest shadow of a smile crossed the thestral’s lips. “At once, Your Highness,” she said, before delivering a sharp salute and leaving the hall.

Peter had a somewhat concerned look on his face. “Something wrong, Your Highness?”

“I had left a committee tasked with rewriting a rather problematic tangle of tax code afore coming here, as part of a greater effort at legal reform, with the assurance that my assistance would not be required for at least a number of hours. It has barely been two and already they once more find themselves unable to make progress!” She snorted in frustration. “ ‘The best and brightest among us’, my rump.”

“Tax code?” Peter repeated. “Is as bad here as home, I guess?”

She paused a moment, sizing him up. “What do you know of tax codes?”

“Was law clerk back home, had plans to become lawyer. Tax codes not specialty, but am familiar.”

“A lawyer?” Luna couldn’t keep a grin off of her face. “Why, my dear human, I’d no idea you were hiding such a dark and sordid past.” He and Sveti both laughed at that. “I wonder... if t’were possible for me to clear a path through legal and procedural ‘red tape’, I believe it is called... wouldst thou be interested in a paid position within the Equestrian government as an adviser on legal matters?”

She had their attention now. “You sure I able to help?” Peter asked. “Had four years in school, yeah, but only two years on-job experience.”

“Which grants you more qualification than half of the buffoons on that committee.” Luna locked her eyes on his. “Peter Collins, I am at wits’ end. I do not wish for this project to take another twenty generations! There are a fair number of ponies with true intellect upon whom I could call for help, but this legal system has been in place for such time as to practically be no less an edifice than this castle itself!” She motioned towards him with a hoof. “Yours is a uniquely outside perspective, one that could bring fresh ideas and concepts to the process. And it is not as though our legal code is some royal secret.”

Peter and Sveti shared a glance. “You know,” the hen said, “I’ve noticed you’ve been getting sort of bored at the embassy since we got all of the major repairs and cleaning done. I know you’re the type who likes to stay busy.”

“You know me too well.” Peter chuckled. “Okay. Let’s say I interested. Need to know specifics on position.”

Relief flooded through the alicorn’s mind. Perhaps now we might make some headway! she thought. “I shall have terms of reference drawn up during Night Court, and delivered to the embassy upon the morn. There will be regular meetings and conferences, but much of your time would be spent studying legal decisions and legislation from a variety of periods in Equestrian history, which can easily be done within the embassy.” She paused a moment to consider. “Though this might bring up one difficulty.”

“What that?”

“There might be objections to having you on the payroll of the Crowns twice- both as a member of the embassy staff and as part of a task force on legal reform.” She shifted her gaze towards Sveti. “If Peter were asked to resign from his embassy position, would he not be at risk of eviction?”

The pair shared another glance. “Oh, well... we’ve already come up with a solution for that kind of scenario,” Sveti answered.

“What would that be?”

“I was a little worried about some parliamentary trick kicking Peter off the payroll, so I went over the treaty with Princess Twilight a while ago. Since I’m the de-facto administrator of the embassy, I’m permitted to have immediate family or a domestic partner live with me in my quarters. The treaty doesn’t specify species.” She chuckled. “Even though nothing like that happened, recently... well, Peter and I have been cohabitating for about a month now.”

“I see.” Almost against her own will, she found herself re-examining the pair. Are they...? she wondered. No. Not yet. But it is likely simply a matter of time... perhaps Cadance would be interested in a betting pool. “Then I can foresee no potential issues. Now, I believe our tour has come to an end, but as that would leave me bereft of an excuse to avoid that execrable committee... perhaps I might entice you both to attend an early dinner with me?” She smiled hopefully.

Peter and Sveti gave each other one more askance glance, and then both of them nodded. “Sure!” they replied in unison.

Luna felt the grin spreading across her face and focused her considerable will on controlling her reaction. Mustn’t shout out “huzzah”. Mustn’t shout out “huzzah”. Mustn’t shout out-

“Huzzah!”

...drat.

(-)

rrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnnnng

I let out a grumble as I blindly reached over the warm, furred-and-feathered mass next to me in order to grope around for the alarm clock; my fingers finally made contact with it, and I caught the damnable little hammer between my fingers to keep it still until my thumb could find the lever on the clock’s back to shut it off.

“Gmmmh... time ‘s it?” the sheet-covered mound next to me murmured.

“Six-thirty. You’re the one who set the alarm, remember?” I gave her a playful prod.

“Dun remn’d muh.” She let out an exhausted chirrup and buried her head against my chest. “Ten m’ min’s.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, even as I gently rubbed the back of her head, noting how comforting it still felt to do so. Though we’d started sharing a bed during our respective bouts with nightmares, once those had ended after a couple of weeks and we’d gone back to our own beds, I’d found I was having trouble sleeping for an entirely different reason- I’d missed having Sveti with me. But though it was obvious that she felt the same way, she was apparently as self-conscious about asking to resume the arrangement as I was, which meant another half-month worth of nights spent restless... until Sveti remembered her out-from-left-field contingency plan and sprung it on me as a just-in-case course of action.

It was a blatant, flimsy excuse for us to start sharing a bed again, and I didn’t give the slightest damn that it was. Sveti and I were a couple, now, even with our hesitation to actually admit it- the embassy staff had taken to buying us little “his-and-hers” knick-knacks; it was that obvious- so why were we both beating around the bush in actually talking about it? We both knew we slept better together, we knew how each of us felt about the other, we were so familiar with each other by now that she knew I sometimes talked in my sleep and I knew she flexed her wings during vivid dreams... so why not just go all-in?

Deep in my mind, I knew the issue we were both dodging- intimacy.

I could readily admit to myself that, had Sveti been a human woman, I’d have already propositioned her. And the fact that she was a gryphon wasn’t what was holding me back; she was not some mindless animal, whatever her physical body might resemble- there was an intelligent, loving mind behind those golden eyes, a mind that felt the same things for me. And it wasn’t any sort of fear of commitment that kept me from making a move. What troubled me the most was the idea of disappointing her, and not just in the ways the male ego usually worried about... were we even physically compatible? Could I actually hurt her, or her, me? Did she even have any experience at all? Aside from one question she’d once asked me, I didn’t recall us ever talking about the subject of previous lovers.

I looked at the lightly-snoozing gryphon laying against me and debated how I’d even phrase the question. “Sveti, have you ever slept with a male of your species?” “Sveti, are you experienced in bed?” “Sveti, have you ever had a Tab A in your Slot B?” I had to fight the urge to slap myself for that one. Okay, how about something actually mature, like “Sveti, I love you and I want to share myself with you, so can we talk about how we might be able to let that happen?”

“...say som’thin?”

My blood turned to ice; I had a habit of murmuring what I was thinking when I was tired, and Sveti’s hearing was sharp enough to pick it up. “I, um, said... that your ten minutes are up,” I sputtered.

“Ohh.” She rolled back a bit, trying to untangle herself from the sheets. I could see her face now, with her puffy, half-closed eyes and bleary gaze; I’d learned early on that this gryphon was not a morning hen. Her nares flared as she took in a deep breath. “...do I smell coffee?”

“You’re asking me?” I chuckled. “Do I need to remind you what a joke my sense of smell is compared to yours?”

“Well, if you had a beak....” Her smile faded as a contemplative look came over her face for a moment, and then she shook her head. “Anyway! That’s definitely coffee. You have twenty seconds to get on your amulet, shirt and slippers before I drag you down the stairs by whatever part of your body is in reach.”

Her cocky grin disappeared when my playful push had the unintended effect of rolling her off of the bed in a squawking wad of sheets and feathers. My laughter hardly slowed when she jumped back onto the bed a moment later and tackled me onto the mattress, then hit me upside the head with a pillow a few times while cackling. “That’s what you get, you wicked creature,” she teased, before letting me up. “Now come on, I really need to get some coffee in me.”

As I’d suspected, the staff had gotten up early as well and put together breakfast for Sveti and I before we left for our trip. I’d never liked oatmeal until I’d tried Silver Wisk’s cinnamon peach mix, but now I found my mouth watering the moment my nose caught its scent- and I could tell that Sveti was similarly anticipating the apple-smoked sausages waiting for her. “Good morning, you two!” Wisk said as we tromped our way into the kitchen. “Hot nourishing breakfast for the traveling pair. It ain’t fun to go abroad on an empty stomach.”

“It smells wonderful, Wisk. Thanks.” Sveti gave the mare a smile.

“You know, I’m going to get you to give up that oatmeal recipe of yours someday, Wisk,” I chuckled as I took my own seat next to Sveti.

“Pfft. Good luck with that.” The mare pushed the food cart around the table, setting out plates for the rest of the staff; as if on cue, Quick Service and Neat Niche came downstairs as well. “Morning!” Wisk called out. “Where’s Ensemble and Welder?”

“Ennie will be down in a bit,” Quick replied. “Welder’s probably going to sleep in; he likes to do that on weekends.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. I’ll put his plate in the coldbox.” As Wisk went to do that, Niche and Quick took their seats and dug into their breakfast, and the light conversation that sprung up was joined by Ensemble a few minutes later. Most of the talk was about what Sveti and I planned to do on our trip- which, quite honestly, we weren’t sure about ourselves; we didn’t have any sort of agenda aside from “get out of Canterlot for a while”. This of course brought plenty of suggestions for things to do from the staff.

“We’re only going to be in Ponyville for a couple of days,” Sveti explained. “It’s just... a time for us to reflect on what’s happened over the last year, and to thank the town for all the support it’s given us face-to-face. We want it to be more of a calm, relaxing trip than going out looking for fun.”

Wisk nodded in understanding. “Well, in that case,” she said, bending down to pull something out from the curtain-covered bottom of the food cart, “it’s probably a good thing that I packed this.” She pulled a large wicker picnic basket out of the cart and placed it on the table. “Because there’s nothing that beats a nice, quiet picnic to reflect on what you’ve been through and what you’ve gained from it.”

Sveti and I shared a glance, then both of us broke out in chuckles. “Thanks, Wisk,” I said. “A picnic actually does sound like a great idea; there’s some nice places out by Whitetail Woods for picnicking, I’ve heard.”

“That sounds like a treat!” Quick smiled. “Your bags are by the door and your carriage to the train station will be arriving at eight sharp, so go get ready now!”

A hot shower, a warm farewell and a quick carriage ride brought us to the station with a few minutes to spare. This trip to Ponyville went much more smoothly than the last, and in no time at all Sveti and I were standing in the small town, getting warm greetings from the residents as we walked around. It felt great to reconnect with these ponies who’d shown us so much support, to thank them and let them know that their efforts were truly appreciated, and by the time the afternoon rolled around we’d talked to a good half of the town’s population and gotten more hugs than I could count. “If you had given notice that you were coming, I would’ve gladly organized something for you,” Mayor Mare told us as we sat in her office for a short break and conversation.

“We sort of wanted to avoid that, actually,” I responded. “Pulling ponies away from their jobs and lives just to talk to us. We’d rather make the effort to come to them today.”

“After everything this town did for us, it seems the least we could do in return,” Sveti added.

The mayor gave us a wide smile. “Well, we here in Ponyville care about our friends. And I know I’m far from the only pony who’s glad to see things are finally looking up for the two of you. If you ever decide that Canterlot isn’t the place for you, you’d always be welcome here.”

The offer gave us something to think and talk about, and after a happenstance meeting with the Hooves brothers- now employed as delivery ponies at the Quills & Sofas shop; apparently this town went through a lot of both- we took a long, leisurely walk along the outskirts of Whitetail Woods. “I could wish that Equus had vehicles like yours,” Sveti said. “That way we could live here and travel to work.”

“Or, y’know, if I had wings, we could just fly back and forth,” I chuckled.

She laughed. “Maybe not so much! It’s a four-hour flight each way. Not every creature with wings is like Rainbow Dash, you know.” She brushed against my side. “But... yeah, I do sort of like the idea of having a home with you, you know,” she said, a light blush showing through her plumage. “One of our own, rather than living in the embassy. Not that it’s bad there, mind you.”

“Yeah....” I found myself finding the idea of making a home with Sveti even more appealing than I’d expected. “I mean, this place may be kind of crazy sometimes, but... it’s really nice here. I can see why Princess Twilight prefers it to Canterlot.” I reached down to run my fingers along her crest.

“Mmmh.” She lightly brushed my back with her wingtip as we walked. “Oh, look, that seems like a good spot to set down the basket,” she said, pointing ahead; I followed her gaze and saw a nice open field with ankle-high grasses, surrounded by a variety of trees.

“Looks good! Let’s set up.” We sat down on the soft grass with a lone spruce tree to our backs and opened the basket, finding it packed to the top with food and drink. “So what sort of home do you think you’d like to have if we lived here?” I asked.

“Ooh, that’s a question. It’s so different down here than from what I’m used to.” We started an involved discussion about what sorts of homes Ponyville had, or what we might have constructed for us if we had the funds. It didn’t seem long at all until all the food was eaten, our conversation had played out, and we sat beneath the late-afternoon sun with her head on my shoulder and my arm around her waist. “It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since we escaped from that sideshow,” she murmured.

“I know.” I ran my fingertips along the back of her neck gently, drawing out a soft sigh from her. “It’s been one hell of a year. I’m honestly surprised I survived it.”

“I’m not,” she replied, looking up into my eyes. “As much as you try to tell me otherwise, you’ve got the heart of a warrior in here.” She put her claw on my chest. “It was a year ago that this heart took pity on a caged gryphon and gave her the keys to freedom. I don’t know where I’d be- or even if I’d be- if you hadn’t done that.”

“You’ve repaid me for it a thousand times over.” My hand slid along the side of her neck to cup the bottom of her beak gently. “Look at where I am now, Sveti. One year ago I was frightened and alone, powerless and unable to talk to anyone. Now? I don’t have to run anymore. I have a home, a place in this society, friends and a good job. And... I’ve got someone to love.” My fingertips traced a path down along her throat. “All because you stood for me when I had no one else.”

The claw that was on my chest slid down to rub against my side, the talons catching against the bottom of my shirt and tugging up gently. I could see her leaning forward, her nares flaring as she breathed deeply, her eyes seeming to shimmer in the sunlight. “Peter....” she half-whispered, her beak trembling slightly. “I’ve... wanted to ask you something for a while.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat. “What?” was all I could get out.

“I’ve, um....” She seemed to search for words for a moment. “Peter... I love you, and I know you love me as well. And, you know... there are, um... physical expressions of love, right? And, um....” Her claw slid under my shirt. “I was wondering if... you and I could, maybe....”

I heard a rustle of feathers, and her eyes widened in fear a split-second before something heavy slammed into both of us at high speeds.