Onto the Pony Planet
Chapter 16: Trial, part II
Admiral Biscuit

“As I have already plainly said, Starswirl's spells were quite ingenious, in that their design encouraged modification. In common parlance, some unicorns refer to the layers of the corona, although I stress that those are laypony's terms. So, to put it simply, Starswirl's spells were layered in such a way that each separate effect had its own layer, and it could be changed by the caster at will, without requiring the complex effort of writing a spell from scratch.”

“Thank you. No further questions.” If Noble Voice noticed the way downcast ears perked up in the courtroom as he tendered his witness, he was polite enough not to show it. Unfortunately, the lift in spirits was short-lived.

“Thou mayst cross-examine the witness,” Luna said, nodding her head towards the defense table.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Fancy Pants stood and slowly walked towards the stand. “Professor Laureate, we have heard your comprehensive testimony about how unicorn spells work—indeed, I have learned things I was not taught in school. I wonder, as such a renowned expert, if you could suggest to me a way in which to modify the teleport spell in question, so to teleport two additional creatures back to the starting point?”

“The simplest, most elegant way, would be to include an open marker in the teleport layer, and re-fulfill its conditions for the return journey.”

“Forgive me, but I am not much of a theoretician. What is a marker?”

“Aha!” The professor leaned forward eagerly. “Most simple teleportation spells are designed to transport the caster herself, and as such, the caster is the target of the spell. Of course, there is no reason why anypony else cannot be the target, but such spells are rarely taught or used. One simple variant is the marked teleport, in which any creature marked immediately before the teleport is triggered is carried along with it.”

“And one could do that with any number of ponies?”

“Well, it of course depends on the caster's field strength. Most unicorns don't have the strength to even teleport themselves very far, so of course they would be unable to teleport any more than one or two other ponies a very short distance, or a similar mass of objects.”

“So, in short, teleportation is much like levitation, in that it can target any discrete object that the caster desires.”

“Yes, you could say that. Of course, the field requirements for teleportation are orders of magnitude higher.”

“Hypothetically, then, if I were to desire to teleport from this courtroom to the local tavern, in company with my lovely wife, I should be able to cast a marker teleport spell, target her and myself, and then just pop out of here? And back again, in the company of the tavern owner and enough pints for everypony in the courtroom?”

The professor waited until the chuckling had died down before responding. “I have not properly assessed your field strength, so I cannot say whether you could do it or not. However, it is theoretically possible. I'm sure I could do it.”

“Hmm, I see.” Fancy Pants turned from the witness stand and walked halfway back to the defense table, before suddenly stopping as if a new point had occurred to him. “But, what if the proprietrix of the tavern had placed a magical barrier across her door?”

“That would depend on the nature of the spells.”

“Suppose that it were a simple teleport versus a comprehensive shield spell . . . perhaps like the one Shining Armor protected Canterlot with before the Royal Wedding? Do you remember that spell?”

“Well, vaguely, yes. I believe it failed after many changelings had collided with it repeatedly. Shield spells require a constant application of energy to repair damage caused by impacts or counterspells.”

“So, in the case of the shield over the tavern, if I were to bang my hoof on it long enough, it would fail.”

“Eventually, assuming the caster did not put any more energy into it, and assuming it had no provisions for self-power. You see, shield spells come in a variety of, ah, complexities."

“But I could not teleport through it.”

“For your scenario, no. It wouldn't be much of a shield spell if any unicorn could simply teleport through it.” Professor Laureate tapped his hoof on the stand before Fancy Pants could ask another question. “And, before you ask, you cannot levitate objects through it, either. It cancels out a unicorn's field where it crosses the boundary of the shield. The more clever designs absorb this energy to make themselves stronger.”

“I see.” Fancy Pants walked back to the witness stand. “So, this just leaves us with the difficulty of a shield between the teleport spell and Dale and Ka-th-rin. For them to get through, they must have been marked by Lyra somehow, is that not correct?”

He nodded, then remembered to speak. “Yes—unless she let the spell fizzle and cast a new one to get back."

"She needed a boost to cast the first spell. Without the inherent field kick in Starswirl's spell, she'd have never made it back on her own." Fancy Pants returned to his table and pulled a scroll out of his attache case. “I wonder,” he began as he walked back towards the witness stand, “if you might suggest where best to modify this spell—a spell which my client could not even cast without the help of Princess Celestia's magic—in order to pre-load it for markers?”

The courtroom was silent as Professor Laureate read over the scroll. Finally, the stallion looked up from the spell. “I don't know. I'm sure it could be done. Starswirl's spells are very open.”

“Yet you are an expert—you said so yourself. You are possibly the most well-read expert of Starswirl's spells in this age, and you cannot tell me how you would modify the spell to, um, take on additional passengers?” Fancy Pants looked back at the courtroom with an expression of disbelief. “I—“

“I can figure it out,” the professor snarled. “I just need some time.”

“My sincerest apologies.” Fancy Pants bowed his head. “Of course you can.” He looked up at Luna. “Princess Luna, I wish to end my examination of this witness now, but would like him to remain available for further testimony—since this case hangs so heavily on magical theory, and he is the foremost expert.”

“Very well.” Luna turned towards the witness stand, where the professor was re-reading the spell, his lips moving silently. “Professor Laureate, thou mayest step down from the stand now, but thou shalt remain available for further testimony.”

Three teacups circled above the table, surrounded by a dull magenta glow. Two pairs of eyes watched their flight very carefully—Dusk Glimmer, who had a vested interest in their continued well-being, and Trixie.

After finishing breakfast, Trixie had felt the need to polish her magician’s skills and seized upon the cups as an appropriate target for some juggling practice. Before Dusk Glimmer could protest, the cups were in the air.

By the time they got their cutie marks, nearly every unicorn could use telekinesis. It was, after all, a very handy skill to have. However, the complexity of the telekinetic prowess dropped off sharply, with most unicorns not taught much more than simple lifting and writing, and rarely bothering to learn the focus required to lift more than two objects simultaneously. Certainly, Dusk Glimmer never had.

Which left her in a bit of a predicament. Snatching an object out of another pony's aura was difficult, at best. If said object was moving, it was even more challenging, and while Dusk was adept at redirecting thrown objects—she did have foals, after all—teacups being juggled by an adult mare was a different matter.

Furthermore, Princess Luna had said that she was to give Trixie free reign. While the Princess had undoubtedly not considered airborne teacups as a possibility, unless Trixie dropped one it would cause no harm. She could only watch and hope the showmare got tired of her tricks before deciding to add a few utensils to her routine.

Finally, after a few hoof-biting minutes of play, Trixie finally set the teacups neatly back on their saucers and bowed her head. Dusk Glimmer resisted the urge to stomp her hooves, correctly surmising that if she did, it would lead to more and more tricks, until there were broken dishes all over the floor.

After giving an appropriate amount of time for adulation to materialize, Trixie raised her muzzle haughtily. “That is a simple trick for the Great and Powerful Trixie,” she huffed. “Be thankful that Trixie has graced your presence with . . . um. . . .” Her voice trailed off and she looked around the luxurious dining room, before glancing back at the table. Dusk was clearing it as quickly as she could.

Trixie's focus locked on a serving bowl half-full of salad, and she glanced down at her empty plate then back at the bowl. Dusk Glimmer held it in place, her eyes glued to the showmare.

“Would you like some more?” she finally asked, more to break the silence than anything.

“The . . . Trixie is satisfied with what she was given for lunch.”

“Are you sure?” Dusk began moving the bowl back towards the table. “It really would be no problem to—“

“Trixie does not need your pity!”

Dusk bristled at her shout. “I can see your ribs,” she spit. “And you know it, too. Why do you have to be such a, a nag?”

“Is that what you think?” Trixie lowered her ears and looked down at the table. “Well, why not? What good has Trixie ever done for anypony, anyway?” She shoved her plate away and dropped her chin on the table. “Everypony would be happier if Trixie would just fall off a balcony.”

Dusk dropped the bowl back on the table as Trixie got out of her chair. "I don't—"

“In the old days,” she said, as she began walking out of the dining room, “Trixie would have been cast out of the herd in hobbles with her horn broken. It is what she deserves—what everypony wants. And why not?” Her voice became a harsh whisper. “Her mother was no good, everypony said so, and her father threw Trixie out.”

“You're not no good,” Dusk said, trotting towards the doorway, the lunch dishes completely forgotten. “I'm sure somepony loves you.”

“Do they?” Trixie pushed past her. “Trixie knows why you're putting up with her. Because Princess Luna ordered you to. Trixie can see the look in your eyes—what you really think. Trixie is a parasprite in the Princess' chambers. Everypony would be happier if she was gone. Other ponies have cleaned up too many of her messes already; she does not wish to be any more bother.” Trixie turned down the hallway and headed towards Luna's office.

“Nopony thinks that,” Dusk Glimmer said, but the words felt like a lie.

“Don't delude yourself.” Trixie shoved the doors open with a burst of magic. “Trixie knows that she is a thorn in Princess Celestia's side.” She stepped into the room and turned her attention to the Prench doors that opened onto the balcony. “And she knows that Princess Luna only took her in to get back at her sister.”

“That's not true! Princess Luna cares about you!” She even bathed you herself.

Trixie shook her head sadly. “Trixie is sure she told you that, but she didn't mean it.” She grasped the handles on the door, jerking her head around as Dusk's magic wrapped around the frames, holding the doors shut. “Don't—Trixie is stronger than you are.”

“I won't be able to catch you,” Dusk said. “If that's what you're hoping.”

“I'm not,” Trixie grunted. “I just don't want to be a burden anymore.” Her horn flashed and the doors crashed open. “This cage may be gilded, but it is a cage just the same.”

Dusk didn't even hesitate. As soon as Trixie took one step onto the balcony, she galloped across the kitchen and tackled the showmare, pinning her against the stone. Before Trixie could even react, Dusk swiped her horn with the edge of a hoof, dispelling whatever the unicorn might have been about to cast.

As Trixie shook her head, Dusk Glimmer pinned her with a Mom glare. "I can hit a lot harder," she hissed. "Now get back inside, missy."

Nurse Tenderheart finished unwrapping the bandages around Kate's hand, and the doctor leaned in to get a closer look. If somepony in town saw this, she'd be horrified, he thought.

It was not an unfair assessment. It was the most horrific injury he'd seen in his entire career, and thus far the combined magic of the nurses, two unicorns, and Zebrican potions had failed to fix it. Still, he had hope. He could see granulating flesh, and while the process was much slower than It had been on any other pony, it was still progress.

He glanced back at their improvised magic sink. As far as he knew, no doctor had ever made such a thing before—there had never been a need. The very concept of blocking magic fields to improve healing was unheard of. It was fortunate that they'd been able to discover it in time to do some good. He could hardly credit himself with the idea; it had been Redheart who had first proposed that the creatures were allergic to magic, and Lecol had come up with the design—and the lead. You never would have thought of that on your own, he reminded himself. Maybe the copper wire, but never the lead.

Dr. Stable glanced at Sweetheart, who had an ear pressed against the girl's chest. His heart went out to her—she was going far beyond the call of duty, willingly accepting the alien's grooming to keep her calm. He couldn't even imagine how she tolerated that fleshy hand running through her mane and touching her ears and muzzle. Especially when she knew full well the violence the girl was capable of.

He licked his lips. Stay on task. Dr. Stable looked up at Lecol and nodded. “I'm ready.”

“Go ahead,” Lecol told him, placing a hoof on his withers. “I'll take over when you get tired.”

Dr. Stable nodded. He took a deep breath and focused on the task at hoof. He glanced back down at the gem, then back at her ruined hand. He felt his mind clearing; all the doubts and concerns he had faded in the face of an injured patient. She was not an alien; she was a poor injured foal, crying in pain . . . as he exhaled his focus drifted back to the moment he'd felt the warm glow of his cutie mark appearing, the moment he felt his destiny calling.

Everything took on a preternatural clarity. It was just him and the hand, and he was going to win. He'd studied the anatomy book until he had every drawing memorized. Even if he didn't understand the words, the drawings were perfectly clear to him. His horn lit and he grabbed onto the stored energy in the gem, feeling the familiar rush as its power augmented his own.

Here we go.

His corona flared as he bent to his task.

Noble Voice wore a small smile on the corner of his face as Professor Laureate stepped down. Fancy Pants remained stoic; he'd expected to take a bit of a beating. His only worry was that Professor Laureate would think of a way to modify the spell. That was the only reason he hadn't called on Twilight Sparkle. After all, there was nothing to prevent Noble Voice from asking the very same question, and if anypony would have an answer it would be Twilight.

“Thou mayst call thy next witness,” Luna said.

“We call upon Storm Cloud, a member of Her Highness' Royal Guard.” Noble Voice looked at Fancy Pants expectantly. When no objection came, he turned back to Luna. “He served as one of the guards at the hospital.”

Fancy Pants stood halfway, resting his forehooves on the desk. “Objection.”

“What cause?”

“Guard Storm Cloud is tasked with protecting an ambassador. As such, anything he has learned is to be considered a state secret.”

“Might I remind you this is a court martial? Civilian trial rules don't apply.” Noble sneered at him. “Nice try though.”

“On the contrary,” Fancy Pants said calmly. “As is plain for anypony to see, there are civilians present in the courtroom. State secrets should not to be revealed in their presence. If he were to say anything, his testimony could be considered an act of treason.”

Luna glanced at the two lawyers. “It is the opinion of the court that the witness may testify upon any matter which occurred before Lyra Heartstrings accepted her post. He shall not speak of anything which took place after that event, unless it be knowledge generally available to the public.”

“That's a broad ruling, Your Honor.” Noble Voice stepped out from behind the table. “What if something started before Lyra became ambassador, and continued after?”

“Then he shall testify on those matters which happened before, while ignoring those that came after.”

“But what if—“

“Do not try our patience, councillor. We see that thy co-council is champing at the bit to have a chance to lead. Perhaps we should allow him the opportunity.”

“Very well, Your Honor.”

Fancy Pants turned over to Fleur and gave her an encouraging smile. He listened patiently as the guard—prompted by Noble Voice—listed off his qualifications and began telling his story.

“So what happened next?”

“Well, there were flares everywhere, from the unicorn spotters. We all did our duty and rushed towards the water. The pegasi got there first, of course, because the unicorn scouts were checking spellcraft while they went forward.”

“Had you been expecting the creatures?”

“No.” He shook his head to emphasise his point. “We'd been told that there was the possibility of an invasion, of course. Orders had come down from Shining Armor to practice tactics, and it was generally believed among the soldiers that Lyra was communicating with minotaur-like creatures.”

“Which was not far from the truth, was it?”

“No.”

“We stipulate again that Dale and Ka-th-rin did come back with Lyra,” Fancy Pants said.

“I'm just trying to set the scene,” Noble Voice protested.

Luna shook her head. “Please try to stick to the significant facts of the case.”

“Very well. Briefly, could you say what happened after you rescued Lyra and the creatures?”

“We took them to the hospital.”

Noble Voice gritted his teeth. “Perhaps you could elaborate on that statement a little?”

The guard cast a wary eye at Luna. “Uh, because they were injured?”

“Yes, I see.” Noble Voice shook his head. “And you decided that since they were invaders from an alien land, guards ought to be posted to protect other ponies from them, is that correct?”

“Well, what I heard is—“

“Objection!”

Luna nodded.

“Hearsay testimony. The witness should only testify on what he personally observed.”

“Objection overruled.” Luna glared at Fancy Pants. “Were this a jury trial, thou wouldst be correct. In this case, it is impractical to summon the entire chain of command here to determine who gave orders, or when. The objective of this trial is simply to determine Lyra Heartstrings' innocence or guilt, and to determine an appropriate punishment. As such, we believe that the prosecution ought to have leeway in establishing generalities about the events.”

“Especially since the mindset of a member of the Guard is being called into question,” Noble Voice added, hoping to score a point with Luna.

“We do not require thine opinion on legal matters,” Luna said icily. “May we remind thee we laid the foundation for the laws which thine ancestors obeyed?”

He gave her an awkward smile before turning back to his witness. “Continue, please.”

“Er, I heard that there were no orders to guard them initially. But the mare flipped out, I guess, and after they got her calmed down, we got orders to watch the rooms, keeping the creatures confined to appropriate areas, and away from the general population.”

“And who did you take orders from?”

“My superior officers.”

“And who did they take orders from?”

“I don't know. The Princess—Celestia, maybe Twilight Sparkle and the Mayor, and we were told to obey reasonable instructions from the doctors and nurses.”

“Reasonable instructions?”

“Sure. It's a hospital, so if we had to get out of the way so that they could get somepony through, or whatever. Of course, if there was danger, we would have to tell the doctor to back off, but we weren't supposed to cordon off the whole hallway, or anything like that.

“During the time I was there, the orders got more and more relaxed, though. We led the stallion down to the kitchen and—“

“Objection. Dale was made an ambassador prior to that event.”

“He can't speak Equestrian; what kind of state secret is he going to reveal?” Noble Voice looked down at his notes. “Or is the fact that he did not appear to like timothy a state secret?”

Fancy Pants turned and glanced meaningfully at the reporters who were busy scrawling down this latest revelation.

Noble Voice gave Luna a pleading look. “May I approach the bench?”

“Both of you,” Luna ordered.

“Your Honor,” Noble began. “While I do understand the requirement for secrecy in state matters, if the witness cannot testify to the behavior of the creature or Lyra, what case could we possibly make? There were no witnesses save themselves present on the beach, and it's only by examining their motives that we may begin to establish the truth of what happened. I don't want to sound alarmist, but if there is a threat, ought we not learn of it now rather than later?”

“Dost thou have an opinion, Fancy Pants?”

“I want the trial to be fair,” he said carefully, “and open. Equestrian citizens deserve to know the truth. However, I do respect the need for some matters to be kept behind a veil of secrecy, and must object in those cases. Perhaps the courtroom could be emptied for sensitive testimony?”

“We shall consider it,” Luna said. “Our sister wished that this trial be conducted under the observant eyes of reporters, and we shall respect her wish. To throw them out now might imply that we were attempting to cloak the more prurient events. We further believe that an open court would benefit everyone, even should it come at the expense of some potential secrets. Quite honestly, though, surely his dietary preference is not a matter of great import.”

“Just suppose something is revealed which is a matter of great import? What's to stop the reporters from sending a hot copy to the Griffon embassy?”

“We believe we have an answer. Please return to your tables, and we shall sort this out.” As soon as they had taken their places, Princess Luna banged her gavel on the lectern. “Ponies of the court—it is possible that a state secret might be revealed during this trial. Should that happen, we shall respectfully ask you to not report it.” She glared at the assemblage of ponies. “If you do, we shall be most displeased.”

Overeager nods greeted her pronouncement.

“Now, we may proceed.”

“Right.” Noble Voice looked back at his witness. “I am given to understand you led one of the creatures around the hospital.”

“Objection,” Fancy Pants said. “Noble Voice's continued references to Dale as 'the creature' are intended to characterize him as a monster, rather than a reasoning being.”

“How dost thou respond?” Luna asked.

“The creature has not proven that he is intelligent by our laws,” Noble Voice said flatly, pounding a hoof on the doctor's report. “Nowhere in here does it state that he is a—and I quote—'reasoning being.'”

“Dale drew pictures that have been admitted as evidence,” Fancy Pants said. “Dale chose his preferred foods from a list Twilight Sparkle gave him, and has spent days learning our language and teaching Lyra his own. He wears clothing, gives speeches, and can shake hooves. What more evidence do you need?”

“Court rules in favor of the defense,” Luna said. “Dale will hereafter be referred to by name.” She considered for a moment. “Ka-th-rin, too, shall be referred to by name.”

“Very well.” He turned back to the witness stand. "You led Dale around the hospital; what about Ka-th-rin?"

“She was confined to bed, at first, due to her injuries. But then she was allowed out. Her first act was grooming my partner.”

The courtroom broke into an excited babel, which Luna finally silenced with her gavel. As the guardpony continued his tale, Fancy Pants tensed. He'd known this was coming; it was the only plausible motive card Noble Voice could play. Had they been in a closed courtroom, he would have shouted an objection at every insinuation, but here that would just add more fuel to the journalist's fires.

He cocked one ear back to listen to the frantic scratching of quills on paper, and even the occasional muted gasp as the guardpony gave a particularly juicy bit of testimony.

“And then I saw her stroke Dr. Stable's cutie mark,” the guard said, his face red.

“Who else was there?”

“Nurse Redheart, Dr. Goodall, Rarity, and Zecora.”

Fancy Pants turned his attention back to the front of the court. Luna was listening to the testimony attentively, with a slightly sour look on her face. It was subtle, but Fancy Pants had spent time at the Night Court, getting to know her, and it was paying off now. In the short term, it mattered more what she thought than how the journalists interpreted events. Noble Voice had not, and was operating under a handicap.

“The next morning, when I came on duty, the one of the night guards showed me a picture which Lyra had drawn.”

“How did he come about it?”

“There had been a disturbance in the room the night before, involving a pegasus and a dead woodchuck. Nopony was quite sure what had happened—just that there was a commotion, and after the creature ran out of the room, the guard went in.”

“It's this paper, is that correct?” Noble Voice showed him a torn piece of paper with a drawing of Dale and Lyra sharing a bed.

“Yes, that one.”

“You kept the paper safe, knowing it was important evidence. Well done.” He turned to Luna. “I wish to submit this.”

“I want it entered into the record that the paper is torn,” Fancy Pants said, “and there is no way to know what might have been contained on the rest of the paper.”

He turned to Lyra, who was blushing furiously, and whispered in her ear. “What was on the rest of the paper?”

“A drawing of me in the room and another of me not in the room,” she replied. “They had separate rooms when they first came to the hospital, and I thought they ought to be together, if they wanted to. I sketched out one set of drawings showing them alone, together in the same room, and together in the same bed. Then, I did the same with Dale and I. It wasn't meant to imply—“

“I believe you.” Fancy Pants gave her a sympathetic look. “Keep a stoic face, Lyra. I expect things are going to get worse from here on.”

“You escorted the pair to the hospital's bath, is that correct?”

“Lyra and the, uh, Dale. I was one of the ponies who did.”

“And you remained there for the duration, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

Fancy Pants sighed.

“Did you observe—with any of your senses—any inappropriate behavior between Lyra and Dale when they were bathing? Anything more than simple washing or grooming?”

“She showed him around the room, like she was explaining soap to him or something. Once she'd done that, she went back to the alcove—I was expecting him to undress there, like any pony would. But he didn't. She stayed there, while he went to the bath, still wearing his clothes. They'd been talking quietly earlier—I think they didn't want anypony to see he was aroused, and that's why he kept his clothes on.

“While he was in the bath, I watched Lyra and she seemed tense, agitated—she kept moving around and flicking her ears over in his direction, and I could tell she really wanted to join him. But they weren't fooling anypony. It would have looked less suspicious if the two of them had just helped each other like normal ponies would—or if Dale and Ka-th-rin had bathed together, you know? But I think they expected I'd stay outside the door, and they wouldn't have had to hide from me.”

“In your opinion, then, this would explain why Lyra brought them here.”

“All the evidence points to it. The constant touching, the drawing, their behavior in the bath.”

Noble Voice turned towards Luna. “As you can see, it's as plain to see as your own muzzle that both Lyra Heartstrings and the creature are—and have been—engaged in a—“

“Noble Voice,” Luna boomed from the bench. “Thou dost seem to have forgotten that a closing statement comes at the end of witness testimony, not during it. Might we suggest that thou savest thy closing statement until all the witnesses have been examined and cross-examined?”

“Sorry, Your Honor,” he mumbled. “No further questions for this witness.”

"The defense may cross-examine the witness."

Fancy Pants leaned over to Fleur. “Destroy him.”

Allie Way rapped a hoof impatiently against the door of the embassy. She'd already unhitched her cart—after all, it wasn't going to fit through the door—and left it parked neatly alongside all the other trademares’ carts.

She'd unconsciously glanced over the wagons as she approached the embassy, just to see who was there. There were no surprises—tavern gossip had been remarkably accurate.

The door finally opened, tugged by the field of a vaguely-familiar unicorn. “Diamond . . . ah. . . .” Allie craned her neck to get a glimpse of the mare's cutie mark, hoping it might provide some sort of clue. She's seen her at market; she'd seen her family around town. Of course, the two mares ran in totally different social circles. You try explaining that to an earth pony, though—they assume all us unicorns are some kind of a tight-knit group.

“Diamond Mint. And if I may ask who's calling?”

At least I got the family name right. And she doesn't know who I am, either. Allie grinned. “Allie Way. Busts. I mean, I was asked to make some busts, plaques, and trim for the embassy, and I have some of it finished.”

“Ah, yes.” Diamond's formal face softened. “That will be nice. It's pretty barren in here right now.”

Allie nodded eagerly. “My mother always said that a house without a bust wasn't a home. 'Course, she might have been just a bit biased . . . should I just bring them in?”

“Go right ahead. Dale doesn't seem to mind all the hoof traffic, so long as you don't cause a ruckus.”

“I wouldn't think of it.” Allie glanced at the pair of guards flanking the doorway. “They won't mind if I kind of come and go? I have more pieces than I can lift at once.”

“They'll be fine,” Diamond said. "Just make sure you wipe your hooves off on the mat. Oh—I should warn you, though . . . it's almost lunchtime. Starlight's in the kitchen, finishing his meal.”

Something about the way Diamond had spoken gave Allie pause. “So?”

“He eats meat,” Diamond whispered.

“Not just fish?”

Diamond shook her head.

Allie swallowed. She'd seen Dale at the announcement-meeting—probably everypony had—and he seemed like an all right sort of creature. While she'd been too far back to get a good view, nothing about him besides his height looked overly threatening, so it was hard to imagine that he was dangerous, especially since everypony on stage had acted as if he were a peaceful creature. But how could he be, if he lived on the flesh of some other poor animal? And now that she thought about it, it was kind of weird how he didn't have a coat. Only creepy animals didn't have coats—like snakes and lizards and bugs and fish.

“I hope that, um, he isn't planning to share his lunch with everypony,” she said. “He isn't, is he?” Her nostrils flared as she took in the strange scents of the new embassy. Any one of them might be the decaying corpse of an innocent animal. “Where does he get his . . . you know?” She'd met Applejack's tenants; it couldn't be one of them, could it? She'd heard that back in the olden days, griffons ate cows and sheep and pigs and maybe even ponies when they could catch them, and of course there were the monsters of the Everfree to consider, but as long as she stayed out of the forest she'd be safe—they couldn't come into town, probably. Hopefully.

“It's. . . .” Diamond gave her an awkward look. “I probably shouldn't say. And don't repeat it with your marefriends. It's not supposed to be general knowledge right now, you know? I just didn't want you to go in there and smell it and vomit all over the floor like Rough Tumble did.” She glanced at the guards meaningfully.

“Oh, sure.” Allie nonchalantly leaned close to the unicorn.

“It's imported,” Diamond whispered in her ear. “From Canterlot, I hear. So it's no one you know.” Her eyes flicked back to the guards before returning to Allie. “I guess if you were really curious about it you could ask Starlight.” She lowered her voice even further, pressing her mouth almost against Allie's ear. “I think she got hired just 'cause she's willing to cook meat.”

Allie bit her lip. She really couldn't think of an appropriate response for a conversation which had taken such a macabre turn. She couldn't even decide how she ought to feel—horrified that the ambassador was so barbaric that he took pleasure at eating another animal, or sympathetic that he had to? She'd never had to deal with meeting a griffon . . . how did such a thing factor into the relationships between species, anyway? And what did that make Starlight? Was she equally monstrous for her willingness to touch the meat of an animal, or was it another example of earth pony pragmatism? It was leading her mind down all sorts of paths which were perhaps best not considered.

“Well, I wasn't planning to put any busts in the kitchen,” Allie said with a false note of cheer in her voice. “So I guess it'll be okay.” She turned her head back to her cart, where the results of days of hard work were carefully tarped down. Probably an unnecessary precaution, but a mare couldn't afford to be too careful. Allie gingerly reached out and wrapped her aura around the knots.

As she carried the woodwork in, she couldn't help but try and sneak a glance at Dale. On her way into the house, her eyes were glued on the dining room entry. He's probably waiting right outside the kitchen for his meal, she thought. But there was no sign of him, even though she could see most of the room.

She set the first few pieces down next to the staircase. They'd be mounted on the wall once the plaster was dry; in the meantime, Diamond Mint or the construction crew would find a place to store them. She had dozens more to make, so she wanted to know now if they were unsuitable.

“Hey, 'Brosia!”

“Allie!” Ambrosia leaned over the edge of the scaffolding. “What brings you by? Did you finish all the carvings?”

“Ha! Not hardly.” She motioned to the small pile. “I've got eight rosettes here; enough to trim around four doors or windows. I just wanted to make sure the pattern was suitable. I thought flowers, 'cause everypony likes having flowers around. But I wasn't sure what kinds of flowers Dale or the mare like.”

“I'm sure they'll be fine.” Ambrosia grabbed a board and shoved it into position. Once she was satisfied with its placement, she nodded and Rough Tumble leaned his forehooves against it, holding the wood in place. She pinned it with nails on both ends, before taking a small step back to examine her work. “Dale doesn't seem the type to get upset over window trim.”

“I hope not.” She looked back down at her rosettes uncertainly.

“If he doesn't like them we can peel them back off the wall and try again.”

“Easy for you to say; you're not the one carving them.” She looked around the room curiously. “Where is he, anyway?” Maybe I should show him and see if he likes them.

“In his office.” Ambrosia pointed a hoof at the open door behind her. “He's been in there all morning with a stack of books, can you imagine? Hey, listen—when I came over this morning, he gave me a drawing for this bannister, would you believe? I was sorta hoping that he'd help.”

Allie glanced at the open office door, wondering if she might catch a glimpse of him from where she was standing, but she could only see the corner of a desk. “I thought you said at the pub that he wasn't all that good.”

Ambrosia shrugged. “He could pass boards up and stuff. And maybe I could teach him a thing or two. You got more outside?”

“Couple of busts. Do you think I should do finials for the newel posts?”

“It would look a lot neater.” Ambrosia got another board. “I wanna get this finished before lunch, so that we can start working upstairs in the afternoon.”

Allie nodded and waited for Ambrosia to turn back to her work. Once she had, the unicorn glanced across the room again, towards the office. She danced around indecisively before sweeping up the rosettes with her horn. “I'll just move these out of the way,” she announced, as she headed towards the office. Don't stare; just a quick look as you go by the door.

But she couldn't help herself; a glance turned into a gawk. Yesterday he'd been wearing a fancy robe, just like the ancient pegasi costumes in the Hearth's Warming pageant. Today, it was a plain shirt with sleeves that barely covered any of his arms—arms which were conspicuously lacking a coat. Even weirder, his head was bare today as well. She could understand why he would have wanted to wear a wig yesterday, but why wasn't he still wearing it? She'd be embarrassed to be seen in public with some of her coat—or Celestia forbid, her mane—missing.

Just as Ambrosia had said, he was bent over a book, studying it intently. The cover gave her no clue as to the contents, so it could have been anything. She looked him just a moment longer, before moving clear of the doorway and back into the foyer. Allie brushed a hoof against her mane absently, before she headed outside to bring the busts in.

The three mares walked abreast through Ponyville. Allie was in the middle, bracketed by Silver Spanner and Ambrosia.

“So what did you think?”

“Huh?” Allie turned her head.

“About Dale. It's the first time you saw him up close.”

“I—how did you know?”

Ambrosia chuckled. “You were staring through that door for a whole minute, maybe more.”

“He's kind of weird, I guess. Funny-looking. He's going to be hard to get used to.”

“That's what I thought about Spike, too, first time I met him. Imagine, first a dragon in our little town, now a, ah, now Dale—who do you think will show up next? Maybe a noble will move here. The way Fancy Pants was talking. . . .”

“He'll stay in Canterlot. That was just crowd-talk.”

“I don't know. He sounded pretty sincere.”

“Well, I can't wait to see the mare,” Silver Spanner interrupted. “Maybe she looks more . . . normal.”

“You've seen him up close, too?” Ambrosia glanced over Allie's shoulders, the disbelief evident on her face.

"I got something I've got to show you—let's get out of the rain under that awning." She pointed a hoof.

Once they were sheltered, Silver Spanner nodded and reached back into her tool belt. Normally, she wouldn't have worn it to lunch, but she didn't feel comfortable leaving it behind. Just in case Dale had sticky hooves. “He gave me this,” she said, displaying it proudly in front of the other two mares.

Ambrosia and Allie looked at it, and then back at Silver Spanner, all thoughts of lunch momentarily gone.

“What does it say?” Allie said hesitantly.

“Who taught him to hoofwrite, that's what I want to know.”

“Obviously, Lyra.” Silver folded the note back up and stuck it in her pouch. “It says pipe wrench.”

“How come he wrote it out? Why didn't he just draw a picture?”

Silver got a self-satisfied look on her face. “I'm kind of thirsty right now. You know, from being stuck in the bathrooms all morning long, working with pipes under the sink and bathtub and—“

“Why, you conniving little—“

“I'll buy your drink,” Ambrosia said. “'Cause I'm curious.”

“That's mighty kind of you.” Silver flashed the earth pony a smile and began walking again. “So, I was under the sink, connecting the feed pipes to the faucet. I was lying on my back, you know, looking up at the fittings, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him walk into the bathroom and then just stop where he was.

“He kind of crouched over—just a little—and I could sorta see his face in a gap between the vanity and the cabinet. I don't think he could see that I saw him, though." She paused at the door of the pub, letting the other two mares precede her through the door.

“He looked away for a moment, and I thought he was maybe just getting a look at the room—you know how ponies always want to see what you've been up to when you're working at their house?”

Ambrosia nodded.

“But then he just looks back, almost staring. And I thought about what you'd said, Ambrosia, about how he was interested in construction. So that's why he was staring; he was curious what I was doing under the sink. If I'd had a lantern, I'd have turned it on, to help him see.”

"Tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of beer," Allie said. "Put it on Ambrosia's tab." As soon as the waitress set the order on the counter, she turned back to Silver Spanner. “Weren't you scared? Lying on your back like that.”

“You've never seen how far she can chuck a wrench." Ambrosia slid into a booth while Allie and Silver Spanner set their lunch on the table.

“Yeah,” Silver agreed. “I coulda tossed a wrench at him if he'd gotten too close, but he stayed back. So when I was all done, I rolled out from under the sink and just looked at him, figuring I'd let him make the first move. He was holding that piece of paper, and I glanced at it, and . . . well, then he gave it to me. I don't know what he wanted a pipe wrench for; after he looked it over he just gave it back.”

“I wonder why he's so interested in us?” Ambrosia waved a hoof around the table before grabbing a sandwich off the platter. “If he's smart enough to write, you'd think he'd be more interested in unicorns.”

Silver Spanner tapped her hoof to her horn. “What d'ya call this?”

“Normal unicorns, that do normal unicorn stuff. Not us working ponies.”

Allie topped off Silver's mug for her. “I wanna know how he knew you could read.”

“It's 'cause I got my cutie mark late. My mom thought I might be the next Starswirl, can you believe? I had to sit through so much school while you were learning your crafts. But I dropped out and got an apprenticeship once I got my cutie mark.”

“I know; you've told us before. How would Dale know that, though?”

“I dunno. Maybe 'cause he spent so much time in the hospital with Lyra and Twilight and the nurses he thought everypony could? Or maybe Lyra taught him how.” She drained her mug and banged it back down on the table. “Well, time to hit the pit before we head back.”

“Are you coming back after lunch?”

“I dunno.” Allie slid out of the booth and followed the other two mares out the side entrance that led to the outhouse. “I didn't bring any of my tools, so I can't really work on anything there.”

“You can help upstairs,” Ambrosia suggested as she held the door open for the other two mares. “Or maybe just go and bump hooves with Dale. If you've got a tool in your aura, he'll love you. I promise.”

“You really think so?”

“Trust me; you'll get along with him just fine.”

Fleur stood and moved towards the witness stand. “Just a few questions,” she told Luna, before turning back to the guard.

“Have you ever personally observed Lyra and Dale kissing?”

“No.”

“Have you ever personally observed Lyra and Dale engaging in sexual activity?”

“No.”

“Have any of your fellow guards told you that they have witnessed such behavior?”

“No.”

“How many fellow guards are in your unit?”

“Um, I'm not sure. Do you mean foot soldiers, commanders, auxiliaries, or what?”

“Forgive me for my lack of clarity; I'm not entirely clear on the details of how your command structure is organized. How many soldiers, of similar rank to you—your peers, that is—are in your unit?”

“A normal unit is one hundred forty soldiers,” he told her. “Although our ranks are rarely completely filled. Oftentimes, as many as half of our troop is comprised of auxiliary guards, who do not normally serve with us, except for in times of emergency. We subdivide into flights, and each of those contains a dozen soldiers.”

“So it would be fair to say that there are eleven other ponies in your unit who you are most close to—those in your flight, who you bunk with, eat with, train with, and confide in.”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” Fleur moved across the aisle, stopping when she was close to the witness chair. “Have you ever put a hoof on the back of one of your fellow soldiers, perhaps to congratulate him on a job well done?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever, in a stressful situation, hugged one of your fellow unit-members, or seen two of your fellow unit-members hugging each other?”

“I . . . yes, I suppose I have.”

“Have you ever observed any two pegasi in your unit preening or otherwise grooming each other?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Answer the question!”

“It's, you're not a pegasus—there are some spots that are troublesome, and a good soldier helps his fellows, but it's not—“

“And,” Fleur interrupted, “given that it is well-known that preening can be a form of foreplay between pegasi, it is therefore reasonable to assume that some or all of the pegasi in your unit are having sexual relationships with each other.”

“Objection!” Noble Voice's hoof slammed down on his table. “The question is irrelevant, leading, and insulting!”

“I didn't ask a question!” Fleur's voice cut over the excited chatter from the reporters. Without waiting for a response from Luna, she turned back to the witness stand. “In light of my previous statement, have you seen any behavior between Dale and Lyra which could only be considered as sexual?”

He didn't answer, and Fleur looked up at Luna before turning back the witness stand. “Do you not understand the question? Would you like me to clarify behaviors which are generally considered to be sexual in nature?”

“No,” he said, his face turning an interesting shade of red. “I have not personally observed any such behaviors between them.”

“So, it could be that they are simply close in the same manner that any professionals working together towards a common goal would be, is that not correct? And given the nature of their injuries, Dale and Lyra and Ka-th-rin could be in a stressful situation, in which case you—based on your prior testimony—might expect them to make physical contact as a form of reassurance, rather than as a prelude to sexual activity.”

“I suppose that's fair,” he said quietly.

“No further questions,” Fleur said.

Most ponies believed that the gardens around the Royal Castle were meant simply to look pretty. They did—thanks to the tireless work of a legion of royal gardeners—but that was not their primary function. There were some foreign dignitaries who were uncomfortable in confined spaces, and Princess Celestia felt it was her duty to meet them where they were most relaxed.

Chief Shooting Star of the buffalo tribe was one such creature. Accustomed to life on the open plains, anything sturdier than a tent was looked upon with disfavor, and important meetings simply had to take place out in the open. He did not begrudge the Princesses their castle, but at the same time he would not deign to enter it. Ever. For any reason.

Like most buffalo, he also had a general mistrust of weather management, and as such the pegasi left the traditional buffalo grazing grounds alone. That hadn't always been the case—centuries ago, Celestia had tried to help them during a drought, a noble gesture which had caused frosty relations for decades.

“Tell me again about these creatures,” Chief Shooting Star said slowly. “These new allies of yours.”

“We don't know much. They come from a distant planet.” Celestia smiled pleasantly. “They are bipedal, and from what limited evidence we have thus far, they prefer to live close to the land, and do not make much use of magic.”

“That is good.” He paused and looked over the garden. “You ponies are sometimes too concerned with your desire for order to see the beauty in untamed nature. You think you are making it better, when you are really changing it from what it wants to be into what you wish it to be. I should like to meet with these creatures.”

“We have yet to set up dates for diplomatic meetings, as both of the creatures are still . . . acclimatizing to Equestrian life.”

“Perhaps they would be happier with the buffalo? Where they can range free, apart from your rigid constraints on nature?”

Celestia sipped at her tea. “You may be right,” she said thoughtfully. “Although we are still working around a language barrier, I will be glad to ask them once we have mastered communications. Assuming that there are more, and assuming that they do prefer the simple life, would you consider hosting some of them?”

Chief Shooting Star considered the question. Finally, he nodded his head. “I feel that if the creatures embrace a nomadic lifestyle, there would be a place for them among the buffalo. I look forward to meeting these new creatures.” He smiled. “On behalf of my people, I will sign a peace treaty, and will formally open an invitation to them at our meeting circle.”

“Thank you.” Celestia bowed her head.

For the next half hour, Princess Celestia and Chief Shooting Star ironed out the details of the peace treaty and made brief statements to the lesser buffalo representatives who had accompanied their chief. Once they were finally finished, the pair walked off together, out of earshot of their retinues.

“Tell me, Chief Shooting Star, how are relations in Appleloosa? I have heard no ill reports since my student and her friends visited, but I would like to hear your perspective, if I may.”

“Things are going well,” he said. “Chief Thunderhooves and Sheriff Silver Star frequently meet to make sure of it. Why, late last year a new family moved in and began planting on our stampeding grounds, and the Sheriff made them move before Chief Thunderhooves even lodged a protest. Although, I have heard that Little Strongheart and Braeburn are a little closer than Chief Thunderhooves is comfortable with.”

Celestia frowned. “I'm afraid I don't quite understand your meaning.”

“I fear that they may be . . . romantically involved.”

“Oh, dear.” Celestia looked at the buffalo with a sincere expression. “Is that against your traditional tribal rules?”

“We never saw a need,” he admitted. “The Elder Council is discussing it. Perhaps you could apply some pressure on the ponies?"

“As you know, interspecies relationships are not against Equestrian laws, and therefore I cannot intervene,” Celestia pointed out. “By our treaty, of course, you are free to rule your territories as you see fit, but only if it does not interfere with Equestrian law.”

“Yes, I know. It's quite a vexing problem. Chief Thunderhooves risks losing standing if he allows it—what kind of Chief cannot control his own daughter? Some of the other buffalo clamor for her banishment from tribal lands."

“I hope that you can find an equitable solution,” Celestia said. "Before unity, ponies did not allow intertribal marriages. But when the daughter of a pegasus clan chief married into a unicorn House, it brought the two tribes closer together. Chief Thunderhooves and the Appleloosans have already seen the benefits of peace; might such a marriage serve to strengthen those bonds?"

Shooting Star rubbed a hoof across his chin. "Perhaps you are right. I shall ruminate upon it."

"Please do. Nopony benefits from hasty decisions." Celestia smiled brightly. “As always, I would be honored to sit in on one of your meetings, if you would have me.”

“Thank you. We do appreciate your understanding.” He nodded politely to her, then turned and walked out of the garden, while Celestia remained on her bench The griffons are next, she thought. That will be fun.

Author's Notes:

You know the drill: click here for the blog!