Author's Notes:

Another Clop-less chapter. I can hear the rage building already.

The Usual Disclaimer:

The following is a work of parody, and is protected as Fair Use under section 17 U.S. Code § 107 of US Copyright Law. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and all affiliated characters are property of Hasbro Inc.

I own nothing. All characters, settings and other belong to their respective owners. This is purely a fan-work with no intent towards profit, slander or harm towards the characters, settings or other, or their respective owners. If the respective owners feel that this fan-work in any way, shape or form threatens or besmirches their property, please let me know so that it be can be removed asap.

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As always, please feel free to say something, anything, about the story. Is it going smoothly, is it starting to drag, have I made a timeline error, too many plots (heh) going on at once?

CHAPTER 9

Canterlot, same time …

Excusing herself from the Day Court had been hard enough, Celestia felt, especially given how clingy certain factions of the Nobility had become and the current backlog of duties left by the past few weeks shenanigans, but facing what awaited her in the bedroom had become increasingly harder.

I’ve made a terrible mistake.

No sooner had she gotten into her private quarters and shut the door than Discord had started up some sort of rebellion against her involving afros, bell-bottom pants of an eye-searingly purple shade and disco-balls.

Apparently being confined to her bedroom had driven Discord mad … or rather mad-er, and now she was winding down from some sort of fast-forward dancing marathon from the 60’s to the modern era, and while she felt very, very silly and utterly exhausted, Celestia did have to admit that laughing with Discord as they sat together on her bed had felt very, very good.

After a very heart-felt apology from Celestia for imprisoning Discord, and then another apology where Celestia couldn’t stop spluttering or blushing as she apologised for having her way with him. Celestia had banished the anti-magic spell from her private room …

And Discord had snapped his fingers, repaired all the furniture in the room to pristine condition … and then promptly vanished, taking with him the warmth out of Celestia’s chest.

Celestia sat on the bed, the disco-ball still turning and twinkling overhead, silent and stone-faced, feeling so very cold and empty inside as her eyes remained locked on the place where Discord had been just moments ago.

She had expected a prank, or riddle, Tartarus, even a fart-joke in revenge for taking advantage of him. But Discord hadn’t smirked or laughed or even made a corny threat, he’d just snapped his fingers and disappeared like it was all nothing.

Silently, Celestia got up off the bed, closed the doors to her balcony and drawn the blinds down, removed the clothes Discord had conjured onto her, put her royal crown and adornments on the newly-repaired bedside stand and slipped under covers, promising herself she would not cry over Discord of all creatures being insensitive.

Except when her wings reached out to gather more of the enchanted cloud-bedding to her, her feathers felt the warmth that Discord and she had left behind while seated on the covers, and a muted sob shook the Princess as she gathered it to her chest and folded her wings around it, crying as she cradled that warmth against her body.

She was, again, alone in a kingdom that worshipped the mask she wore for them, and were ignorant of the Pony underneath.

No Twilight to call into her room for a ‘study session’, where that innocent little filly would lean against Celestia all through the lesson, and the Solar Princess could pretend Twilight was the daughter she never had, and never could have, if the descendants of her other children had proven anything.

No Luna to help Celestia while away the lonely nights with catch-up sessions on Equestrian history and social customs and boisterous gaming matches that helped heal the wounds of doubt, regret and self-blame that still lingered between them.

And now Discord had delivered an emotional gut-punch by fleeing the moment she let her guard down, right when she had bared her soul to him, right when the two Ponies that Celestia felt closest too, the two Ponies Celestia knew would never abandon her were now beyond her reach, by her own actions.

It just wasn’t fair.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, hugging the cloud-blankets and trying to not cry, when something tugged gently at the covers.

As Celestia peeked over the covers, she saw Discord, bearing a small potted plant, and an oddly serious expression.

“Wha …” Celestia mumbled, as the covers were lifted off of her body and the balcony doors snapped open, courtesy of another finger-snap from Discord, flooding the room with the light of her sun and the cool spring air.

“Cellie, my dear, dear friend … here.” Discord said solemnly, holding forth the potted plant as if it were the Elements of Harmony themselves, and Celestia looked at him, the potted plant, then back to the Chaos Aspect before gingerly taking the ‘gift’ in her own hooves.

When it didn’t explode, or turn into a Triffid, after the count of five, Celestia leaned forwards, not caring that Discord could see how red her eyes probably were from crying or how her makeup had run, and stared hard at the bush.

It was a strange, primitive plant, with woody branches and small, round leaves with a dark, oily-green colouration, and tiny clumps of purple berries … indeed, it was a plant that hadn’t been seen in Equestria for almost four thousand years … and one that Celestia could never forget.

“Discord … where did you get this?” Celestia asked softly as she turned the pot around and around, looking for something, anything, that this was just a coincidence, a prank that had had an unexpected twist to it.

“In a place with no name, Cellie, on the other side of the Badlands.” The Aspect of Chaos replied in that same eerily serious voice, and as she looked up at Discord, Celestia was struck by how … sad he looked. “One of the things your dear Ponies have taught me is that friends shouldn’t lie to each other. And I am afraid that I saw your journal.”

For a few moments, Celestia wondered which journal Discord meant, for she had hundreds of them, political journals, journals on her spells and experiments, personal journals, but the plant in her hooves quickly narrowed it down.

Discord knew.

No wonder he had been so cold to her. How could anyone love her when they … what was he doing?

Celestia had a moment of hoof-flailing panic as she felt Discord’s serpentine body extended like a hose coming off the reel to wrap around her own, trapping her in a tight embrace as the Aspect’s lion paw and eagle claw grabbed her fore-hooves tightly, holding them firmly to the pot.

“Di-Discord, what are you doing?” Celestia asked in a soft voice as she felt herself trapped within Discord’s coils. It was a bizarre sight, to see Discord’s upper torso just hanging there in mid-air while the rest of his lower torso and body just kept on wrapping around her.

“I believe it is called a ‘hug’, my dear.” Discord replied, smiling wanly. “It’s what friends do when they’ve upset and hurt each other, or so I’m told.”

“No, no I mean why have you come back … you know what happened. You know it all. How can you stand to be here, in the same room as me?” The Solar Princess clarified, desperate to know the answer even as she dreaded the confirmation she felt she knew was coming.

“Oh Cellie, no wonder you try so hard to protect your precious little ponies.” Discord said softly as his upper body stopped it’s bizarre levitation and wrapped around her like his lower body had, his magic floating them both back into the bed. “All that loneliness, all the guilt over what you felt you had to do. And you think you are the sole survivor …”

For a few seconds, Celesita lay stiff in the Aspect’s embrace, waiting for the inevitable prank, or the cold rebuttal, but when she realised that Discord was sympathizing with her, not blaming her, the Solar Princess felt all the tension fall out of her body and let herself cry, even as the mask of the Princess screamed at her to show any more weakness to Discord, to not let her guard down.

It took several minutes for Celestia to finally regain enough control to stop crying, during which Discord had showed considerable restraint, simply holding her and stroking her mane as the tears came, until Celestia found herself able to ask that all important question.

“Why?” She whispered, savouring the feel of a warm body against her own in a bed that had been cold and empty for far, far too long. “Why can you forgive me, Discord? Most others would have called me a monster for what I did.”

“Celestia, I have been alone since this reality cleaved from its parent shortly after the birth of Creation itself. I am older than this sphere itself, older than the sun you raise and lower every day.” Discord replied softly, running an eagle-talon through Celestia’s mane, and she shivered as she digested that little bit of information. “I have seen civilisations rise and fall, seen the best and worst of each one fade into nothingness and abandoned myself to the safety of madness in the silence of entire worlds of life snuffed out by nuclear winters and mass-extinction events, letting myself dissolve into the ether and reform tens of thousands of years later as a new entity more times than your mane and tail have hairs. Allow me to say that, with all certainty, if you had not broken the reign of the Herd-Masters before the Pegasi, Unicorns and Earth Ponies had crossed into ancient Equestria, you would be the ruler of a continent-spanning charnel-house.”

His lion’s paw patted her shoulder as his coils shifted against her, wrapping her tightly as Discord’s head came to rest on her neck, a gesture that felt oddly comforting to Celestia, whom was viewed as inviolate, untouchable even by her Ponies, whom had such contact rarely, if at all.

“I cannot say whether what you did was right or wrong. I will not say if you were justified or not in turning on your own people to save Equestria. But I can say, Celestia, that I understand why you did it.”

For precious moments there was silence as Discord waited for her to respond, and Celestia scrabbled for space to think. Discord, of all creatures, was sympathizing with her for what she had done so many thousands of years ago.

And then she hit on something he had said.

“Wait … Discord, what did you say about being the sole survivor?” Celestia asked, turning as much as she could in his coils to look Discord in the face. “They are all dead. I saw the ruins. I buried the bodies. That Tribe is lost for all time, the Dragons left no survivors. Only the Flutterponies and the Sea-Ponies survived.”

“Not true, Celestia. You found their descendants just over two thousand years ago, although they had much changed since you last saw them.” Discord whispered back, smiling softly. “You even broke through the cold heart of their Princess, Imago, and called her your friend, back before I decided to meddle in your life. It was why I wondered why you called Luna your sister, when a true blood relative was so close by.”

Celestia felt the metaphorical ground shift under her hooves even as her eyes were drawn back to the woody, primitive shrub. The proud, hearty Gypsies of the Endless Plains had been the descendants of her Tribe? Those Ponies who sang endlessly and called the shy Flutterponies their friends as they pulled their wagons endlessly over the rich grazing of the Endless Plains had descended from the superstitious, cruel Ponies who had called her monster, who had delivered such unspeakable cruelties to everything that was different, everything that did not fit the narrow, viciously self-centered decrees of the Herd Masters?

But the Gypsies were long dead, victims of Imago’s greed for eternal life and beauty and her jealousy of Celestia and Luna’s immortal natures, her pride and ego leading her to use a forbidden ritual involving blood magic and the powers of Tartarus that had stripped the life and vitality out of the Gypsies, reduced the Flutterponies to a handful of magically crippled refugees now known as Breezies who were too fragile to survive in Equestria, erased the Gypsie Queen from existence and the blasted the land itself with the backwash of her foul ritual, turning the endless sea of green grass and wild oats into the hostile and lifeless Badlands.

Her mind whirled with confusion even as her body lay limp in Discord’s coils.

Discord had told her that the Gypsies still lived. Her people were still alive, somewhere on the other side of the Badlands.

Did she dare hope that maybe, somehow, she could make good on her actions from so long ago and take them into Equestria, and away from their brutal past?

Celestia, feeling safe and warm in the grip of Discord’s coils, felt the first stirrings of hope, not for her nation, not for her people, but for herself, as the Sun overhead grew brighter and shed its light vibrantly all over Equestria.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the same time, just outside of Equestria’s borders

“Majesty.” The Drone murmured, dropping a small, squishy sphere onto the pillow in front of her, the orb’s translucent shell barely containing the swirling pink substance, the black-shelled Drone bowing low, wobbling slightly with the interior of the covered wagon rocked as one of the wheels hit a rock. “Your meal.”

“Thank you. Has the rest of the Hive been fed as well?” Chrysalis murmured, extending a hoof to drag the sphere to her, fighting to control the shaking that plagued her so often these days, to maintain at least the illusion of the regal grace she had once possessed.

“…Yes.” The Drone replied with a barely noticeable pause.

Liar, his pheromones cried out.

In the Hive-Mind, she could taste his despair, his sorrow, directed towards her as much as the Drones outside who would go without for another week, just to keep her fed. To keep the lich-pin of the Hive alive just another day.

“I see …” Chrysalis murmured, rolling the sphere back and forth under her hoof, biting her lower lip in frustration.

First the Canterlot invasion had failed, all due to Twilight Sparkle’s interference. Six months of planning, plotting and spying to get Cadence’s mannerisms down pat, and then bang, in two days the little Unicorn had blown the plan to Tartarus and back.

Then her attempt to force Twilight to join her side, to groom her to become the new Queen, or rather Queen-Substitute, for Chrysalis’s hive had failed, miserably at that, and the Hive had taken several weeks to dig everyone out, at which point everyone could barely stand, so malnourished and desperate for a whiff of Love to fill the aching hunger that gripped them all.

Thankfully the Kattians, the strange, cat-like creatures that had taken in her Hive after the disaster of the Canterlot Invasion, had remained near the ruins of her castle, and were quick to offer their boundless love once more to their ‘friends’, the Changelings.

But it was too late for Chrysalis. Too late for them all, really. The damage done when the castle had fallen on-top of her, and then the long weeks of starvation, had merely sped up the process. Being bloated on Shining Armor’s love, then receiving that energy again, this time as a massive shield that rejected her very presence, had done damage to something inside Chrysalis, some organ that harvested the love-residue her kind fed on to sustain themselves had gone inert, or died.

Even now, just thinking about how Shining Armor had once adored her, and then thrown his all into rejecting her very existence, caused Chrysalis as much physical pain as emotional. She’d fed too deep, too much, and established a rapport with her ‘host’, and the rejection, both physical and emotional, had done her a great deal of harm.

Once, the sphere she had been given could have sustained her for a month. Now, she’d be lucky if it lasted her a day. Days of harvesting, curing and fermenting, and all done on the march too, and she would be lucky if her body was able to absorb enough to keep her alive till tomorrow.

And yet, if she did not feed, she would likely die sometime in the night as her body ran out of precious Love-Energy to sustain it, and then the Hive would be doomed to a slow, withering death akin to what the Ponies would call ‘dementia’ without a Queen to be the center of their Hive-Mind.

The Hive was aware, of course, through the mental link of the Hive-Mind that Chrysalis was damaged, possibly beyond repair, but she needed to remain alive long enough for one of her latest brood to mature to the stage where she could feed it her precious royal jelly, at the onset of puberty, and turn what would ordinarily be just another Drone into a new Proto-Queen.

And then, Chrysalis knew, when the Proto-Queen became strong enough to be the hub of the Hive-Mind, then the Hive would let her die.

Some would do feel regret when the time came, while most lacked the individuality to even process such emotions, and a rare few would take a sort of pleasure at seeing their ‘failure’ of a Queen fade away, but she knew that her time was dwindling faster than the sand in a Pony’s hourglass.

It wasn’t out of spite, or tradition, but simple practicality that the Hive would let her starve to death once her duty was done. The lessons they had learned in the Badlands was that mercy would breed weakness, and weakness brought suffering and death to the Hives.

She was literally a drain on their supply of love, bountiful though the Kattians were, and the rules that had kept the Hive alive demanded that any that threatened the safety of the Hive be stopped by any means necessary. And once the tiny bodies that clung to her underside, sleeping and blissfully unaware of their mother’s fate, were old enough to accept the mantle, Chrysalis knew the Drones would come and take her away to die alone, ousting her from the Hive-Mind so that her death-rattle would not disturb the younger, fragile mind of the new Queen.

The Badlands had taught Chrysalis’s Hive many harsh lessons about the folly of mercy, the foolishness of compassion. Dragons, Chimeras and other monsters that lived in those blasted lands, preying upon anything and everything weaker than themselves, and then, more frightening than all the other threats, were the Hives of the older generations of the Empress’s brood, creatures who were less Pony and more … Other.

Accursed Ponies! All I needed was Canterlot! A single month of harvesting the Love from all those Ponies would have fed the Hive for a year. A season’s worth of harvesting would have allowed me to breed enough Drones to make even the First Generation Queens think twice about attacking! Chrysalis raged in her mind, shooting an apologetic glance to the loyal Drone as it winced at the taste of her anger brushing against the Hive-Mind, and then soothing it, and hopefully the rest of the Hive-Mind, with memories of her tending their eggs so long ago, and then imposing a figure, like hers in shape but subtly different in posture and features, over her own image.

It had taken weeks to find a wagon this far from Pony lands, repair it and then manage to get the Kattians on the move, and to get them to stay with the convoy was nothing short of nightmarish. And yet, in her weakened condition, if she attempted the journey on foot, Chrysalis knew she would be dead by now …

It galled Chrysalis to no end to go this far, to ask for mercy , to be so wretchedly weak and helpless, but she could feel the others coming, dark, sharp, angular Mind-Glows that clawed at the borders of her Hive-Mind, demanding to be let in, those minds that were like but not-like her own Mind-Glow was the only way she could describe them.

Her elder sisters. The previous generations spawned by the Empress. Now that Chrysalis and her Brood-Sisters had failed, the Elder Queens were moving to wipe out her generation, devour her Drones and wait for the Empress to bear a new Generation of Queens.

How many of us are there left? Five? Three? Out of the hundred clawed their way out of the Spawning Pits and over the bodies of our sisters who had been birthed weak and malformed? Pupae took her Drones and hid amongst the Gryphons, but they have precious little love to spare and the Gryphon Tribes can barely tolerate each other’s presence, let alone outsiders. Cocoon went to Prance, but I heard the death-rattles of her Drones in the Hive-Mind, and her life-glow faded months ago. The Changeling Queen sighed, picking up the sphere of Love-Brew between her hooves and making only the slightest of holes with her fangs, taking only a few drops at a time, in the hopes that a longer, slower digestion would help her failing body absorb more of the precious Love. Larvae only ever had a score of Drones, and tried to live like the Ponies, pretending to be a family of drifters, but she stayed in that ‘Apple-loosa’ place. Far too close to the Badlands. Far too close to home. Our Elder Sisters will hunt down her life-glow and tear her and that town apart …

“Majesty, we are, at best guess, a week’s travel the border of Equestria. Are you … are you certain?” The Drone whispered as the wagon’s interior bumped along the dirt road, pulled by a dozen Changelings, with dozens more flying escort all around it. “We could take the Kattians, go hide in some remote valley, put ourselves into hibernation and wait out the purge.”

“You know that will not work. The Elder Queen’s meekest Drones would sniff us out by our pheromones alone.” Chrysalis pointed out, offering the Drone a mouthful of her meal, which he blinked at, then took a quick sip, the dullness of his life-glow brightening noticeably. “Alone, with myself in this condition and my heirs barely able to stand, we will die. Even if all my Brood-Sisters rejoined us, and we built an army from every Changeling able to stand upright on their own legs, we will die. No, as galling as it is, as disgusting as it is, we must go to Celestia and put ourselves in her hooves.”

“So we are to surrender.” The Drone murmured, his short, beetle-like wings rattling with frustration. It was still difficult for the Hive to disassociate the term ‘surrender’ from ‘death’, but their contact with the Ponies, while combative in nature, had shown that the Ponies would not kill the Changelings if they did indeed surrender.

“Not unconditionally.” Chrysalis reminded him, as one of her heirs murmured and hugged one of her teats in his sleep. “I still possess some cards left to play.”

The ripple that had struck the Hive-Mind last night, still several days from the borders of Equestria, a short-lived but potent wave of magic tasting of Starlight and Camaraderie, Moonbeams and Magic, had been startling to all the Changelings within the Hive, a wave of warmth that was at once both alien and yet hauntingly familiar, but it has also given Chrysalis some ideas beyond her desperate ploy to get her Hive to safety behind the borders of Equestria.

She knew the taste of at least some of that ripple of power, and the very thought of what it meant made Chrysalis smirk as she sank her fangs back into the sphere and took another few drops of life-giving Love-brew. Twilight Sparkle, her nemesis, the Pony she had once thought might be the salvation of her Hive, and might yet still be, had fallen in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 2, Early afternoon, Everfree Forest

“Darlings, I think we’re lost.”

“Dang it, Rainbow, this is all your fault!”

“Well maybe if you guys would keep up …”

“We’re lost because you ran off ahead an’ lost the wagon ruts. It's a pair of straight lines in a dirt road, how could you lose them?”

“Hey, I don’t want to hear that from somebody who went off the road to get her hat back and ended up in quicksand!”

“Rainbow, I must concur with Applejack. You are far too obsessed with speed, and now we’re …”

“OH COME ON! You have to stop every five minutes to brush the leaves out of your hair, it’ll be nightfall before we find Twilight and Moonbutt if you set the pace!”

“Di-did yah jus’ call Princess Luna ‘Moonbutt’?”

“Of all the nerve! I am a lady, Rainbow Dash, and a lady must look her best, regardless of the situation!”

“Oh for buck’s sake, what, do you think Prince Blueblood is going to pop out from behind the bushes and comment on your hair?”

“I THOUGHT WE AGREED NEVER TO MENTION THAT NAME EVER AGAIN?”

“No, seriously, Rainbow, did’ja jus’ called the Princess ‘Moonbutt’? Ah’m thinkin’ that’s pretty darn foolish …”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Perhaps you’re hoping for Tom the Boulder, or maybe that River-Serpent instead?”

“You leave Steven out of this! He’s a wonderful, sensitive soul, and not for the likes of you to comment on!”

“Oh yea … wait? Steven? His name is Steven?”

“Steven Magnet, actually! Honestly, Rainbow, I don’t know just what has crawled up your plot, but you really …”

“CRAWLED UP MY WHAT? Is that really the language a ‘Lady’ would use?”

“Do yah think Luna’ll banish us if she hears Rainbow call her ‘Moonbutt’? Ah know ah’d get pretty steamed if somebody called me ‘Applebutt’, y’know?”

“If I must descend to your level to make you see reason, so be it!”

“Descend to my … oh that is it!”

“Y’all need to … oh! Oh, girls, ah found the tracks again, ah found the tracks!”

“EAT MY HOOF OF JUSTICE, MARSHMALLOW PONY!”

“I don’t need muscles when I can slap you silly with magic, speed-freak!”

“What the heck are y’all … hey! HEY! Mah hat! Right, time fer mah rope-tricks!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twilight and Luna brought up the rear as Big Mac and Fluttershy charged through the Everfree Forest, Fluttershy leading the way while Big Mac was a half-step behind, carrying a first-aid kit in his mouth.

Twilight, for her part, was looking at the Everfree forest with more than a little bit of guilt. She knew that the Everfree Forest held a great many creatures of powerful and wild magic, and as the foursome of Ponies raced down the half-hidden tracks that riddled the forest, she saw the signs of the Sympathy’s passage.

There was a one of the odd, spherical hives of the Parasprites that lay shattered, the tough, leathery sphere ripped from the branches of the trees above, crushed under its own weight. And few moments later, they came across a Cragadile, flailing impotently from where it had been wedged between two ancient trees, the great reptile’s stony hide dug deep into the wooden flesh of the trees and their sap flowed down over its scales, hardening and trapping the predator even further.

She had not realised that their … experiment could have had such an effect on the forest, let alone that it could have reached so far from their little clearing.

Yet we were only recharged just a little bit … Twilight thought, chewing on her bottom lip in thought as she followed Big Mac and Fluttershy. I know we’re both Alicorns, but isn’t this a bit too much? There must be a trick, something we haven’t discovered or learned about Empathy’s Core, some infusion method that will properly funnel the magic we release into the Core and not let it spill out like this.

“Zecora? Zecora! Are you okay?” Fluttershy, of all Ponies, shouting brought Twilight out of her thoughts, and the sight of Zecora’s tree-house made her blood run cold. All the tikki-masks had been knocked off their perches, there were vines that looked like they’d been ripped off the dead branches of the tree and left hanging, and the windows were all ajar, allowing a faintly glowing yellow mist to escape from the interior of the dead tree-house.

Oh dear sweet Faust, no, please no.

As the four Ponies came clattering in through the open doorway, they found even more destruction strewn across the floor, tiki-masks scattered everywhere, with many of them warped or burnt.

“Zecora! Zecora!” Fluttershy yelled, storming into the house, only for the Zebra in question to come barrelling out of a side room, the two colliding and falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

“Miss Zecora, Miss Fluttershy, you both okay?” Big Mac asked after the large farm-Pony had picked his way across the debris and helped the two Mares to their hooves, both of them wobbling from nearly giving each other concussions.

“I shall survive, I still have my hide, although I fear that dear Fluttershy has dented my … pride.” Zecora replied wryly, rubbing at her head and giving Fluttershy a broad grin. “Tell me, my dear friends, what brings you to this path’s end?”

“We … were worried you might have been caught up in a burst of Wild Magic last night. And it looks like we were right.” Twilight explained, levitating a fallen tiki-mask and wincing as half of the mask fell off and clattered to the floor. “Are you okay?”

“My home is ravaged, but that I can mend. But the surge of magic was not wild, but full of lust without end.” The zebra shaman muttered as she ushered the Ponies out of her ruined home. “Out my friends, we must not stay, these fumes will make our wits fly away. My potions all shattered, the contents have mixed, not safe is my home, till the damage can be fixed.”

“Uh, Miss Zecora, pardon me, but what do you mean by ‘lust without end'.” Big Mac asked softly as the Ponies walked to the far side of the clearing where Zecora made her home. “You mean there’s something out here using Love Magic? Like Changelings?”

“I do not know if this was some sort of attack, but Changelings hoard power, not throw it back.” The Shaman offered, before sighing heavily and shooting a sad look at her smoking home. “Fortunate is your arrival, for days it will take, before the potions stop their smoking and this Zebra can catch a break.”

“Oh, oh, Zecora! You can come live with me for a while … if that’s okay?” The silence as everyone pondered that bit of news was broken by Fluttershy of all Ponies, who squealed with uncharacteristic glee, before wilting and hiding under her wings as everyone turned to look at her in amazement.

“Ah … was gonna say you could crash at mah family’s farm … but livin’ with Fluttershy’ll be easier on you.” Big Mac rumbled, although his smile looked a little worried, and Twilight noted his gaze flipping between Zecora and Fluttershy rapidly, nervously. “No Applebloom to pester you all the time.”

“Fluttershy, thank you very kindly, for your kind offer has saved me most timely. And Big Mac, you sister does not drive me ‘round the bend, although I will admit to a sigh of relief when school holidays are at an end.”

Faust. Do I tell them or not. Twilight thought fretfully as the trio laughed together, gnawing on her bottom lip and shooting a nervous look to Luna, who noticed it, and gave a small shake of her head.

As Twilight and Luna followed the trio back to the Princesses camp, Twilight couldn’t help but look at the smoking windows of Zecora’s home and wonder just what else could go wrong today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moments later, Canterlot, the Sparkle Residence.

“So … Trixie, is it?” Night Light began as he levitated a box of tissues across the coffee-table, trying to use the twin sneezes of his two ‘guests’ as an opportunity break the awkward atmosphere as his wife glared daggers at the two other Mares sitting on the other couch. “And miss … Surefoot?”

“It’s Sunset, Mr Twilight.” The red-and-gold maned Unicorn Mare replied tartly as she snatched up a tissue to wipe at her face, glaring right back at his wife. “We really do need to know where Twilight is. We have an … an issue, regarding one of the spells she created, and since she made the spell, only she can tell us how to fix the problems it has caused us.”

“I’m fairly certain the best fix for you involves a prison cell …” Twilight Velvet muttered.

“Velvet, dear, you’re not helping.” Night Light pointed out, knowing that that comment would cost him later. “Look, perhaps if you could explain what spell it was that is causing your issue, we could help?”

“The … apologetic and ashamed Trixie would prefer not to say. Trixie merely wishes to be rid of the spell, and this insufferable Mare, as soon as possible, and with as few Ponies know about the specifics as possible. And since The Great and Princess-y Twilight was the one who translated them from Neighponese, she is our best chance to end this curse.” Trixie replied, looking perfectly miserable as she tugged her hemp-cloth cloak tightly around her body, a posture that reminded Night Light of when a certain small Filly had accidentally cast a spell that made her shed all her fur at once.

“OH.” Velvet said, holding a hoof to her mouth. “Are you saying you got hold of those ancient Neighponese spells she was studying? I wasn't aware they were in public circulation yet!”

Night Light, having no idea what was going on, merely looked at his wife, bemused, as the famous, or as some would say, infamous author went from belligerently over-protective mother into sympathetic matriarch, at least towards this ‘Trixie’.

“Y-yes. You are aware of what they do?” Trixie nodded, looking at his wife with a hopeful smile spreading across her face, while this foul-tempered ‘Sunset’ just crossed her hooves and huffed.

“Considering I write romance novels for a living, and I've used them to help with my writing, yes, you can bet your last bit that I know what those spells do.” Velvet replied, smugly, pointing to the entire wall dedicated to the series she had written under the pen-name of ‘Hoof-Wetter’. Night Light just rolled his eyes and sighed, but remained standing, ready to leap between his wife and Sunset if their distaste for each other turned violent.

And considering how overly protective Twilight Velvet got in regards to their children, Night Light was fairly certain he’d have to protect Sunset, rather than his wife …

The looks the two Mares threw at his wife, and then him, made him rather nervous, especially since they kept looking at his plot.

“We-well. So, uhm, that means he … oh.”

“It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean I used them on Night Light, dears.” Twilight Velvet said after a burst of hysterical laughter, leaving Night Light even more confused, but certain that somehow his wife’s profession was impugning his masculinity. Again. “Look, I don’t know where Twilight is, but I do know that she keeps all her work in the Ponyville Library.”

“Really, oh, Trixie cannot thank you enough, Mrs Sparkle! Finally, Trixie will be rid of this burden and can finally go onto the stage again!”

“The first thing I’m going to do is choke Twilight with it!” Sunset muttered darkly, leading Night Light to wonder just what spell was involved.

“Sun only knows you’ve practiced enough on me.” Trixie pointed out, giving her … companion an annoyed look.

“Right back at you, Trixie the Quick and Easy.”

“Ahem. Well, assuming you can keep your ‘friend’ from shoving all four hooves into her mouth, Trixie, I’m sure Spike can find you the counter-spell. Just let me write a letter, so he won’t give you any trouble.” Twilight Velvet offered, cutting the two Mares fight off before it could get any worse. Which was a pity, as Night Light hadn’t seen a decent cat-fight between two pretty young Mares in ages.

Well, he assumed they were pretty. Other than their faces, their bodies were concealed by lumpy cloaks of rough, scratchy brown-hemp cloth, and they had steadfastly refused to remove the garments, Trixie breaking into tears when Twilight Velvet had demanded they disrobed before his wife had taken the blue Mare into another room, there’s been a startled shout, then a few moments of silence, and then they’d emerged with Twilight Velvet giving both Mares her permission to keep the cloaks on

A hastily written letter and the quick scarfing of his favourite oat-and-honey biscuits by the cloak-wearing and obviously starving Mares, a gushingly thankful Trixie and a surly Sunset pulled the hoods up on their cloaks and heading for the train station, Twilight Velvet began humming and dancing from hoof to hoof, a dreamy look on her face.

“Inspiration strikes again, my dear?” Night Light asked dryly, knowing full well what that look meant.

“Oh yes, oh yes, I think I’ve finally found a way around my writer’s block.” His wife replied, grinning broadly. “I’m going to need …”

“Yes yes, I know.” Night Light sighed, already moving to the supplies closet. “I’ll get the tarps and your ‘inspiration’ tools, then get myself down to the bar for the evening.” Where it’s safe.