In Canterlot's courtyard, in the noon of the day, stood a single round wooden target. Its surface was painted, with an outer ring of blue and a single red dot in the centre. Although it'd been recently made, its face had already been littered and marred with dozens of puncture marks.

Shri-ek.

The breeze picked up. There was a shimmer of crimson magic followed by a soft snap, breaking off one of the leaves from the surrounding trees. It swept down, gently wafting past the front of the target's surface.

Snap!

There was a rush of air as an arrow impaled through the leaf and into the target with a wooden thunk. Within a second, the shaft shuddered violently to a halt, the greenery vibrating down to the base.

Gareth exhaled slowly as he spied his mark, lowering his bow. He smiled; finally, he was making some progress.

"Thank you for the extra target," Gareth spoke in careful Equestria, turning to Gleaming Horizon. "I hit your leaf."

Gleaming Horizon sat underneath the shade of one of the trees, gazing up at him from the array of flashcards in her forehooves. The crimson light around her horn died away.

The white unicorn wore an even more refined dress than normal. Gone were the simple hues of brown and blue, and in were the swirling golden finery, white silk cloth and gem-lined tiara. Being Cecilia's lady-in-waiting, she had clearly prepared her best in anticipation of tonight's events.

"You hit my leaf? Very good!" Gleaming said, smiling up at him. "Now, repeat; 'I am nobility from England'."

Gareth frowned in concentration. He mouthed out the words, trying to mimic her, "I— I aam nobiliniity fram Angland?"

He could not help but feel a pang of guilt as Gleaming shook her head in exasperation.

"Grey Spear, We've drilled for nearly a week now. You are not ready for this," she declared in an all-too serious tone.

Gareth's eyes widened, his hand gripped the bow staff.

"No, I will learn! Cecilia is called princess again tonight!" He said.

"Gareth..."

He turned, nocking another arrow.

Shri-ek.

"I will be there. I will support. I promised her," Gareth continued, breathing the words as he sighted his target and—

Snap!

Another arrow sprung up next to his first, both nestled in the bullseye.

He felt a spike of confidence at the very sight of it. A wolfish grin spreaded across his face. He turned back to Gleaming, "I can do this—"

"No, not like this, you won't," a cultured voice cut in.

Gareth turned to face it, right hand already groping for another arrow. He had the shaft already halfway out before he saw who it was,

Noble Era stood at the edge of the treeline, watching them with a calculating glint in his dark brown eyes.

With regret, Gareth returned the arrow. Cecilia would not be pleased to have him accidentally kill one of her subjects. Well, okay, for this subject she would at least scold him a little. Maybe. The significance of the fact that Noble Era was one of the few ponies he knew by reputation - and poor one from Cecilia's less-than-flattering appraisal - was not lost on him.

Noble Era slowly trotted past the treeline, fearlessly locking eyes with Gareth. A golden locket hung around the stallion's neck, modled into the shape of a pony's face.

"You are not going to be able to speak to them," the stallion continued, "and this night is rathetn. Ponies eaverth gath reen—"

Gareth's eyes glazed over. He barely managed to distinguish the few words he did know from the gibberish. Noble Era continued regardless, making a few pointed jabs at Gareth's chest for good measure.

"Cousin?" Gleaming Horizon said, tilting her head. She stood, trotting over to Gareth's side. "Grey Spear doesn't understand. Please, speak slower, and speak simply."

Noble Era frowned at her, and then sighed. He looked up at Gareth, clearing his throat, "Princess Celestia needs your help. Ponies think she made a bad decision with you. You need to make them stop thinking that."

Gareth paused, struggling to process the relatively unfamiliar words.

"Alright," Gareth replied, hoping he had caught the gist of it, "how?"

"With this," Noble Era's horn and locket glowed with a white light. The 'jaw' slid open, and a massive, pink pill, easily the size of his thumb, slid out. There was a deep groove in the middle, presumably to be snapped into two.

"Oh my, is that--" Gleaming Horizon breathed, staring at the pill as it hovered up towards Gareth.

"This is an 'Ambassador's pill'," Noble Era said. "Break it in half. You eat one. I eat one. We speak each other's language for a time. Understood?"

Gareth frowned, nervously holding his palm up to the ensorced pill. He stopped half-way, glancing at Gleaming Horizon. He pointed at the pill while looking at her, hoping she could understand his non-verbal request.

Thankfully, she understood, nodding once before her horn glowed crimson.

Gareth tried to remain calm as the colour of pill in front of him changed from white-pink to red-pink.

"It is safe, Gareth," Gleaming Horizon said, giving him a rosy smile. She released her grip on it.

On one hand, Gareth wasn't exactly a proponent of new medicines. He thought that good food, bed rest and a poultice every now and again trumped just about any modern alchemical concoctions. Sadly, he was running out of options. This land clearly had all manners of natural magics. Maybe, just maybe, this would work as advertised. If Cecilia's lady-in-waiting thought it was worth the shot, then it was starting to sound like the only sensible option.

He turned back to Noble Era, frowning deeply as he thought about how to ask this, "Who eats the other pill?"

"As I said; I will. I am not needed tonight," Noble Era said, standing tall.

"Good!" Gareth quickly snatched the pill out of the air. He suppressed a grin as he turned around, broke it in two, then spun back, holding out one of the pieces. If the pill is poisoned, then Noble Era could take the first bite. "You first."

Noble Era cocked a brow, looking over the pill for a moment, then shrugged. His sorceries lifted the pill from his hand and popped it into his mouth. After a few harsh crunches, he swallowed hesitantly. From the look on his face, the taste was not exactly pleasant.

Gareth delayed for a few seconds, watching Noble Era.

A few seconds turned into a dozen, simply watching the stallion for a reaction.

"Ah-hem!" Noble Era loudly cleared his throat, jabbing a forehoof at Gareth's side of the pill. He glared at Gareth, lifting his brow questioningly.

Gareth sighed. Well, he reasoned to himself, if the poison hadn't set in now then it simply wasn't going to show. He bit into the pill, chewing quickly and swallowing. A foul concotion of horseraddish, ginger, rotten eggs and sugar filled his mouth. He mimicked Noble Era's sour expression, pressing a hand up against his neck as he felt it burn all the way down his throat.

"Do you understand me now?" Noble Era said in a familiar voice… in perfect English.

Gareth stared down at Noble Era as though he was possessed.

'What the fu—' Gareth stopped, grabbing his throat once more. That was in Equestrian.

"Grey Spear!" Gleaming Horizon gasped in horror. "Bad language! Very bad!"

'Wait, that was still in Equestrian. Wasn't this supposed to translate?!' Gareth forced himself to rattle off words to that effect, glaring down at Noble Era.

Noble grinned, saying, "The Ambassador's Pill translates intent. You must centre yourself on the message you want to convey, and then speak. The catch is that while you can speak Equestrian, it doesn't grant understanding of it. The pill is not perfect, but it will work for a re-coronation speech. So, did you understand all that you big two-armed twat?"

'Loud and clear, wife-fucker,' Gareth growled. From the way Gleaming let off another scandalised gasp, he could only assume his message translated correctly.

"Good." Noble Era said, turning in place. "Now, practice for a while with Gleaming. If you'll excuse me, I've my own work to do."

"Wait, cousin! Where are you going?"

Noble Era turned back to Gareth with a cocky smirk, "Tell her that I have translation of my own to attend to. Oh, and thank you again, Prince Gareth."

At that, Noble Era trotted back into the treeline, towards the castle.

Gareth huffed in frustration. The feeling was nostalgic; he'd not experienced this particular mix of burning hate and grudging respect since long before he became a gamekeeper. Damn it, Noble Era was going to start a feud with him, wasn't he?

Then again, Gareth found himself smiling at the thought. Having enemies naturally came with gaining influence.

Celestia pushed her way past the heavy velvet curtains backstage. Finally she was alone to her own thoughts again.

"Where is he?" She muttered under her breath.

The night had come all too soon and within a scant ten minutes, she'd be out there, allowing her crown to be returned to her brow. The concept might have sounded a bit silly at first blush, already being effectively in charge, but it was important for the common-ponies to know that she was officially their princess once more.

To that effect, her attire for tonight. Long and extravagant, the white dress was detailed in gold trim and lined with purple gems that matched her eyes. The front of the dress wrapped snuggly around her chest while the very back trailed down onto the ground behind her; not a stylistic choice she cared for, but fortunately she didn't wear clothing often enough for it to really bother her. Finally, her hooves had forgone her typical royal shoes, instead wrapped in a more vivid quartet of golden sandals, the laces of which wrapped up and around her cannons.

Not bad for a decade old dress, Celestia mused, even if she could still detect a faint musty smell emanating from it. While she would have liked a new dress for such an occasion, she had her dressmakers assigned to a more pressing matter.

"Gareth?" She whispered. "Gareth, where are you?"

"I'm here, my love," Noble Era replied from behind her.

Celestia's nostrils flared. No, this was the last time. He would be dangling by the leg from the top of her balcony by the end of the night--

Instead of a upstart unicorn… it was Gareth, smiling broadly.

The magic around her horn subsided almost immediately, looking him up and down. That was indeed the royal uniform that her dressmakers had prepared. The military-inspired suit was coloured black with a silver trim. Circular patterns ran across his jacket, inlaid with buttons. The pants and shirt were fitted firmly but comfortably against his body, a testament to her dressmaker’s skills that they managed such a feat within a week for such an alien body type.

He still wore his tired brown leather gloves and boots, while his blonde hair was cleaned and tied back into a ponytail. Two bangs of hair fell down on either side of his face, framing it and complementing the gem-encrusted headguard.

Celestia chewed her lip. It had been months since she'd been able to convince him to dress this well. Now she was painfully reminded that him sleeping in her quarters, was night, it wasn't helping with her more... intimate longings. If anything, it was making it worse.

"Is something wrong, love?" Gareth spoke in Noble Era's voice, growing concerned. "Sorry, I've taken an Ambassador's Pill with Noble Era. Don't worry, I don't think it was poisoned; he took the other half of the pill."

She ignored the flush on her cheeks, nodding vacantly. Think unsexy thoughts. Focus on Noble Era. Yes, focus on that. Somepony told her that they heard a strange voice coming from Noble Era's room all day, along with furious quill scribbling.

Wait, poison?

"Gareth..." She took a few steps forward, "he could have laced both sides and be immune to it." Celestia gently pointed out, looking him over.

Her husband paused for a moment, that cute look of deep thought sweeping over his face. Then he brushed off her logic with a wave of his hand.

"I doubt it," Gareth said. "Noble Era couldn’t possibly have known what is lethal to humans by now."

"Alright," Celestia whispered, her brow creased in concern. "But please be more careful. You would have done fine without the pill!"

"Thanks for sparing my feelings, but we both know that isn't true."

"Your majesty?" A mousey mare's voice interrupted. One of her attendant's poked through the curtains. "It's time; you'll be speaking first."

Private Styre was bored.

No, worse than bored; he was bored and surrounded by nobles. While thankful for the time off, Styre didn't know what possessed him to attend the re-coronation tonight. Yet, here he was in Celestia's stage hall, trying to keep at least one flank against the wall. All around him, the nobility gossiped and argued with equal passion about things of no consequence and things of extreme consequence, frequently in the same sentence.

He wished that Butter Pie hadn't been hired at the last minute. He imagined her slaving away in the kitchens to help dish up treats for tonight's festivities. That was happening with worrying frequency, actually. Fame had its drawbacks it seems, and since last week her shop had been stuffed full of nobility.

Styre saw Gareth trying to visit them at Butter Pie's shop a few days ago. He took one look at the line trailing outside, then turned and left without saying so much as a word. That hurt a little, and Styre didn’t fully know why.

The crowd hushed; Princess Celestia stepped through the curtains behind stage. Her gown shimmered along with her hair as she launched into a long and soothing speech. She spoke about how Equestria had been fractured and how she intended to reinstate her rule with basic kindness and respect.

Styre already found himself tuning out.

Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. His father, Mr. Larms, stood by his side, favouring him with an unwholesome grin. Larms looked down, plucking out a small bottled from his dress jacket with his teeth.

"Care for a drink, Styre?" He mumbled, rolling the bottle's neck around his lips, already tugging at the cork.

"Oh piss off," Styre snorted in disgust, batting the bottle away. The jug clattered against the floor, rolling to a stop at its owner's forehooves.

Mr. Larm's face fell immediately, "Oh c'mon Styre, what've I done to earn your ire THIS time?"

Styre hotly ignored him, trying to focus on a speech he didn't care about.

"Son," Mr. Larms sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I know we've had some rough patches, what with 'Pearl and Red Streak… no longer being here, but I'm just askin' for another chance."

"You were banished from the Apple clan for a reason, Mr. Larms," Styre spat, coldly glaring at him. "I still don't know how you got the clan to vouch for you after the fact, but they should know better than anypony that you're a complete lunatic!"

"Please, I prefer 'Drunken Master of Life'," Larms said, picking up the jug and tugging out the cork. He took a quick swig, licking his lips, before replacing it and the bottle back into his dress jacket. "Look, the reason why I'm here is that I couldn't help but notice just how underutilised you are. Did you know that, or are you happy being a patsy?"

Styre sighed, his father simply wasn't going to go away. Styre would just have to wait until Larms got bored and left. "Alright, I'll bite; how am I 'underutilised'?"

"Well, for starters, how come you're still just a Private?" Larms leaned over, wrapping a foreleg around Styre's neck and pulling him into a side-hug. "Son, you're wasting yourself on this! You're built for bigger things!"

"I'll decide what I'm made for," Styre growled, remaining as stiff as he could. "Celestia's tits, you're not here for five seconds and you're already trying to force me back into being your lackey. Would you just get out of my—"

"This ain't about petty crime son. Not anymore," Larms cut him off, suddenly deadly serious. He pointed up to the stage. "This is about the future of Equestria."

"Princess Celestia isn't a bad leader," Styre said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you're right, she's a terrible leader," Larms released him, turning to his front and looking him dead in the eye. "Listen to me, Styre, I learnt a valuable lesson when I was a foal; you cannot rely on one pony to give you everything. You need to be able to get it yourself. Equestria has been kept in a coma for the past four hundred years thanks to her. When she left, we were only just starting to wake back up. Now that she's back? She wants to put us back under again!"

Styre snorted. "And whos going to do it better, you?"

Larms shoulders sagged. "Look, Styre… I'm not an idiot; I can't be the leader that Equestria needs. My heart is too cold. But… maybe I know somepony who can."

Styre's ears swivelled to his side, glaring at his father. "…What?"

"Shush, Styre, the human is speaking."

The room rumbled in applause as Princess Celestia stepped back from the end of the stage. She looked over to the curtains as a familiar biped walked through. Gareth, dressed in a clean, Wonderbolts inspired suit… and dressed in royal Lunar colours, walked up to the end of the stage.

"I am Sir Grey Spear of Angleland," he loudly declared in a crisp Canterlot accent. "I fell in love with Princess Celestia when she was in my lands, and it was there that I pledged my life to her. However, at that time I did not know that she had made the same pledge to another. This pledge she made to Equestria and I am not daunted, for I willingly make the same pledge to you—"

Larms grinned, watching the speech continue. "Such conviction, all spoken through an Ambassador's Pill. Well, at least she has good choice in breeding stock. Shame about the homicidal tendencies."

Styre glared at Larms, who shrugged uncaring.

"I'm just saying; Prince-Consorts that sleep in halls and stab ambassadors? Aren't always the best choice. Anyway, I've seen enough. Have a nice night," Larms said, turning away from Styre.

Styre just shook his head. Finally, it was over.

Suddenly, Larm stopped, looking back. He smiled genuinely. "Oh, and Butter Pie? She's a sweet thing. Treat her right, or I'll break my forehoof off in your arse."

"Oh piss off, da'," Styre groused.

"That's my boy!" Larms said, grinning as he pointed a forehoof at him.

Celestia sighed in relief as she walked away from the stage hall. Just like that, it was all over. Thank Harmony.

The night had well and truly fallen, the crown had been returned to her head, the tribes re-declared their loyalties to her, and finally tonight's battle was over.

Colonel Purple Dart's support was expected, but nonetheless a relief. As was Noble Era's, even though his lack of speech meant that he had to give his support through an Equestrian translator for the benefit of the audience. What was intriguing was that Mr. Chucky Larm also gave his support. Celestia was certain that he would be a problem, but no, he seemed to be almost… cordial tonight. Naturally she'd already had a group of guards keeping an eye on him, but they hadn't discovered anything illegal as of yet. Still, just two out of three would have saved her, and she had all three. Celestia had been recrowned and Equestria was hers yet again. For now, the day was saved.

Gareth yawned loudly next to her. Celestia smiled as he rubbed his eyes.

"That went well, didn't it?" She said.

"I'm not so sure," Gareth muttered, glancing out the windows they passed on their way to the courtyard. "Then again, politics was never my forte. I'll need to trust you on that."

"Really? I'd have never have guessed with a speech like that," Celestia grinned, already setting up another lure. "That is… unless you had help?"

From the material spoken and the heart-felt way it was delivered, Celestia would've bet her kingdom that it was Gleaming Horizon.

Gareth blushed, glancing away from her. "Gleaming Horizon helped coach me."

Celestia smirked.

"I'm just glad it's over," Gareth said, smiling at her. "Did you want to turn in early? The cot back in your room is calling to me."

Celestia stopped. She just couldn't stop grinning, her cheeks burning. Her heart skipped a beat as his intoxicating scent filled her nose. From the way the moonlight illuminated his kind features to the cut of his suit and the gentle strength she knew he had underneath; the ember of desire in her heart ignited itself into a blazing inferno.

She did a quick mental calculation; it's been a week. Maybe, just maybe.

She took a step towards him, her head raising up to his height, lips subtly parting.

Gareth took a step back, frowning in puzzlement. He wasn't alarmed, just curious. The look on his face did it, she couldn't hold back.

She took another step, and another, and he kept backing away. Finally his back hit the wall. His eyes widened, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to her.

"C-Celestia?" He said sheepishly; Celestia didn't even care that it was in Noble Era's voice. "Wh-what's wrong?"

"I want to kiss you," Celestia murmured, inches away from him.

"Wha-?"

Celestia pressed her lips up against his. At last. Warmth spread throughout her body as she rode a wave of bliss. In this moment, she couldn’t feel more right. Her kingdom was back, her husband was hers; Gareth was right, it was all over. Finally, finally…

She could felt Gareth freeze underneath her. She smiled against him. That was all she needed. She hooked a forehoof around his neck and pulled him in, parting his lips and pressing her tongue into—

Celestia slammed into the ground.

She played back the past few seconds in her mind, warmth already fading as the cold stone sapped it away. Celestia was kissing Gareth, then his hands planted onto her shoulders and… shoved her. He shoved her away with enough force to send her sprawling.

Celestia groggily looked up at Gareth.

Gareth stared back at her, face pale with horror, disgust and utter betrayal. He gagged as he brushed the back of his hand against his mouth before spitting to the ground. He backed off down the hall, hands held out against her.

He stammered something, words between an apology, an excuse and a threat—

He turned and fled, dashing down the hall and out into the courtyard. Within moments, he'd vanished into the treeline.

Celestia's vision blurred. The fire in her heart wasn't merely extinguished, it was replaced with an awful, burning, gnawing feeling in her stomach.

She stood, moving without thinking and galloped in the opposite direction. She didn't know where she was going or why, all she knew was that she needed to get away. Yet, no matter where she went, she knew she could never escape the screaming in her head.

As she ran by, she never saw Noble Era standing in a hall nearby.

Gareth stood at the base of the tree, one hand pressed against it for support.

He spat violently as he forced himself to breathe through his mouth and look away from the mess on the soil and his boots. Gareth staggered backwards, strength fleeing from him. He lowered himself down, the cool of the grass helping to settle his stomach even as his head swam. Already he began to unbutton his jacket, trying to pull it off; God, he felt as if he was on fire.

The events of fives minutes ago repeated in his head. The putrid taste of horse saliva, the scalding heat and texture, the pure revulsion. He felt like he could never clean himself of this... this violation. How did Cecilia ever think that what she did was okay? He trusted her! He thought that she understood!

Then a fresh wave of nausea swept over him. No, she did understand, it was he that was under a delusion. Earlier tonight, didn’t he announce himself as 'Prince-Consort Grey Spear'? That was the whole purpose of a consort. It his duty - willingly accepted - to give the ruler children. He just swore that he would fuck a horse - frequently - to an entire nation of horses.

Gareth struggled to his feet, stumbling back to the tree. He heaved again, this time it washed up through his nose, burning and sticking to the inside. His arms and legs trembled as it he grew weaker still; his whole body burned.

"We ponies have a saying--"

Gareth whipped around, grasping for his dagger.

"I think you know it, 'be careful what you wish for'." Noble Era stood upon a flight of stone stairs, speaking to him in his stolen voice.

'Fuck off, Noble Era,' Gareth forced himself to choke out, trying to ignore the taste, and now smell, of bile.

"Look at you," Noble Era continued, hooves clopping down the stairs. "She abandoned us for you, and you abandoned your world for her. Now this is the end result. You're supposed to fulfil her most basic desires, but you can't even accept a kiss without vomiting over yourself," Noble Era jabbed a hoof down at Gareth's splattered shoes. "It's over, Gareth. You've failed."

Gareth stared at him, he— no, he couldn't be right. It couldn't end like this. Surely. 'No… no, I'm not, I just… I just need to—'

"Need to what? Need to what, Gareth? Tell me!" Noble Era snarled, his face burning in unabashed fury. He paused for emphasis, continuing moments later. "You have no 'plan', no idea, no clue of what you're doing. You can't be her consort because you can't even let her touch you without reacting violently!"

Noble Era's voice turned bitter, "Oh, but perhaps you can still help her, hmmm? Perhaps you can help things behind the scenes, be her personal bogeyman. I know your inner rage, and I've no doubt of your skill, but how long can you keep that under control? You talk about loving Equestria like Celestia, and I've no doubt about that. You really do. You love the idea of it, but when faced with the reality… you're repulsed."

Gareth took a staggering step forward, glaring hatefully at Noble Era. There was a keening noise as he ripped his dagger from his holster. He thrust it out at him, hoping, praying that the threat of violence would silence him.

Yet, Noble Era only shook his head sadly.

"I really wanted to see it work out, you know?" Noble Era said in a shockingly genuine voice. "I love Princess Celestia, I want her to be happy. When I see her with you, she's happy. When she's not… she hurts. Therein lies the problem, doesn't it? You affect her, Gareth, deeply, I've seen it."

Gareth stopped, dagger trembling in the air as he found himself listening.

"Each time you've fought or pushed her away, she become dark, callous, almost cruel. Each time you've mended or grown closer, she becomes even gentler than the Celestia I remember. Unfortunately, I know where this road ends; it ends in a downward spiral where your relationship rips itself apart… and takes Equestria with it.

"You tried your best to accept her change, Gareth," Noble Era said in a sorrowful tone. "But if you stop this façade now, before it’s too late, if you're honest with her, you can prevent this. I know it will hurt her deeply in the short term, but in the long term, it’s the best chance Equestria has."

Gareth's dagger fell from his grip, padding into the grass. Nothing came to mind, no retorts, no words, only a gnawing despair that grew with every passing second. Gareth fell to his knees, staring ahead, eyes wide and shattered.

Noble Era turned and took a step up the staircase, glancing back to give him a look of utmost pity.

"Think about this, Gareth. She's already mourning your loss even as you live. Stop this before you see your love become poisoned into hate," Noble Era said, turning and continuing back up the staircase.

The only thing that Gareth wanted to feel then and there was nothing at all. His vision blurred as tears began to roll down his cheeks. He choked out a sob; never had he felt so powerless. Another wave of nausea washed over him as he fell down to the ground, gripping the dagger in his hands and pulling it close to his chest.

Uncle… Father Clemens… Christ Almighty… he just— he just didn't know what to do anymore.

"Gar-eth?"

Gareth opened a bleary eye, looking up at Styre's concerned face. He saw his discarded suit jacket draped over Styre's shoulders. Looking over the stallion’s shoulder he could see that it was still dark out. God, he must look pathetic.

"C'mon Gar-eth. We're going to Gleaming Horizon's room," Styre said, digging his snout underneath Gareth's armpit.

Gareth could only weakly moan in acknowledgement as Styre helped him up. His legs felt like wet pasta. He didn't want to think about last night, he didn't want to think about anything. The only thing he wanted was to curl up and be left alone.

"Hurry Gar-eth. You smell like shit," Styre snorted, grinning up at Gareth.

No… he couldn't stay, Styre would probably just kick him until he moved. Gareth smiled despite himself.