14th day of Frostfall
454 Years after the Defeat of Discord by the Sisters

Bianca had been expecting some grand dining room, maybe cast all in gold on one side and silver at the other, with Princess Luna and Princess Celestia at opposite ends of a table long enough to serve as a wingball pitch and shouting conversation at each other in the Royal Canterlot Voice.

She was almost disappointed when she found that instead, Luna and Celestia took their meals in a small room, almost intimate compared to the grand galleries of the castle. They sat around a round wooden table that had an impression of great age, the marks of a hundred thousand meals visible on its surface.

Bianca was, however, not disappointed by the food, her eyes going wide as waffles and fruit were piled up in front of her along with whipped cream and butter, a feast that few ponies had seen since the war had started half a decade ago.

“Ah!” She gasped, as she bit into a strawberry, juices splashing into her nose, staining her white coat with pink. Bianca’s cheeks joined them as she blushed on hearing Luna and Celestia laughing.

“Breakfast at dinner, sister?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the food.

“As is your habit,” Celestia noted. She grabbed a napkin with her golden telekinetic grip and levitated it over to Bianca, gently wiping the thestral’s nose. “I thought you might want something sweet and simple after so long on the road, and waffles seemed like just the thing.”

“You do know me well,” Luna smiled. “Thank you, Tia.” She started piling waffles on her plate. “I have been doing some very serious thinking while I was away. I fear after spending so long with you, I was taking you for granted.”

“I’m glad to hear you at least appreciate me a little,” Celestia joked. “It hasn’t been easy dealing with the nobility without you here.” Celestia’s pile of waffles matched Luna’s. With a critical eye for detail, she added one more to the top.

“Only because you usually pass the more difficult cases from your court to me,” Luna snorted. She grabbed for the syrup at the same time as Celestia, their magical auras rippling across it. They fought for it for a moment before Luna sighed and let go, allowing her sister to use the carafe first.

Celestia poured enough syrup over her waffles to have the towering stack almost floating in a puddle of maple. “And now I’ve had to deal with them myself,” Celestia admitted. “Luna, you never told me how awful some of these requests could be. I had to stop the Duchess of Trottingham from seizing orphanages and turning them into breweries. She had the audacity to suggest the displaced orphans could work in the brewery and sleep next to the stills!”

“Yes, she can be a troublesome one,” Luna agreed, smiling, as she used the rest of the syrup. Bianca grabbed the carafe after Luna put it down, only getting a few drops for her own waffles.

“So, enough about business. There will be plenty of time to get caught up on the nasty little details of court,” Celestia said, waving a hoof. “I’m sure you have more exciting tales to tell, like where you found your apprentice.”

“She was taken prisoner by the griffons after they destroyed her home,” Luna said. “She found me through her own innate skill. I heard Bianca calling for help in her dreams, and she was lucid enough in them to explain what had happened and where she was.”

“That’s when I met Pallas!” Bianca smiled. “She showed up at the prison camp the day before Luna attacked them to free us.”

“Ah yes…” Celestia said, looking down at her food. “She seemed like a very strong pony.”

“She definitely is,” Bianca agreed. “She cuts griffons in half like, all the time!”

“That’s... not what I meant,” Celestia said, looking at Bianca. “She, and you, have been though much tragedy. More than any mortal should have to bear. It takes a very strong will to be able to survive intact through such a fate.”

Bianca shook her head. “She’s just doing what she has to do. She gets… really depressed sometimes. And really mad other times. But when I’m there, she’s happy.” Bianca smiled, looking down at her food. “It makes me happy too.”

Luna snorted. “As you can see, she’s hopelessly in love.” Luna started eating, not bothering with the fork and knife on the table and simply using her magic to levitate waffles to her mouth. “Thankfully, the object of her affection has more dedication to duty than my apprentice, and has been an asset in making sure she doesn’t simply nap all day and night.”

Celestia laughed. “I’m glad you two make each other happy. Maybe you’ll set an example for Luna and she’ll actually consider meeting some of her suitors.” Luna choked on a waffle as Celestia mentioned them, coughing and sputtering before she was able to answer.

“Just because I don’t want to have a harem of strapping young stallions doesn’t mean I’m repressed!” Luna yelled.

“They’re not a harem!” Celestia protested. “They’re my personal bodyguards.”

“Oh yes, they certainly do keep careful watch over your body,” Luna noted, raising an eyebrow. “Every inch, all night long if the stories told have any truth to them.”

“I do prefer bodyguards with a large amount of stamina,” Celestia said, wiggling her eyebrows at Bianca. She leaned over to whisper. “Luna is just jealous because the last time she got a love letter, the stallion mentioned that her flank was almost as nice as mine. Almost.”

“He had no sense!” Luna snapped. “One does not write a love letter and say the subject is merely second best! I have many fine attributes, not least of which is that there is more to my figure than a bulk gained through decades of eating little more than sweets, unlike my sister!”

“See?” Celestia noted. “Jealous.”

“Did he have any bad dreams after that?” Bianca asked.

Luna coughed. “It is possible he was unable to find rest for quite some time. I am told the night terrors have largely subsided, but as my sister asked me to stop attempting to drive him to insanity, I have left his dreams alone. For better or worse.”

“That reminds me, Luna,” Celestia said. “When do you want to reopen Night Court? I was thinking in a few days, to give you time to rest and get caught up, and to give our ponies time to make appointments.”

“No,” Luna said. “I think I will suspend Night Court. I have been thinking on this, sister, and we should rule together. Would you be opposed if I asked to sit in on Day Court with you? It would remind the ponies that I have returned, and I will be able to learn how things have changed in the time I was gone.”

“Actually, that’s a wonderful idea,” Celestia smiled. “I sometimes feel as if we’re growing apart. This will be a welcome change.”

“Yes,” Luna agreed, smiling. “As long as I can stay awake. You do love to let the nobility drone on and on about unimportant matters.”

“And you usually cut them off too soon,” Celestia retorted. “You can learn much about a pony not just from what they say, but how they say it.”

“Perhaps,” Luna shrugged.

“Oh! Could I come too?” Bianca asked.

“No,” Luna said, flatly. “I will need you to create a distraction when court gets too dull to bear, so I can abscond with my sister and escape the drudgery of listening to Countess Scone and her concerns about the Royal Cake Reserve. I still can’t believe you talked me into allowing that silly law to pass.”

“There’s a Royal Cake Reserve?” Bianca asked, her ears perking up.

“Oh yes,” Celestia nodded. “The finest cake reserve in the world.” She considered. “Also the only cake reserve in the world. Would you like to see it?”

“Would I?!” Bianca beamed. “Can I go see it, Luna?”

“Of course. But eat your waffles first. If you try to get a snack at the reserve, it may end up destabilizing the economy.”

“It was great, Pallas!” Bianca said, as she skipped in a circle around the large thestral. “They keep all the cakes in stasis spells so they stay fresh forever! There was enough to feed an entire city! Apparently they only allow ponies to guard it if they can prove they can resist the temptation of cake after fasting for three days!”

“…Five hundred and seven… five hundred and eight…” Pallas muttered, as she flapped her good wing, making the motions of a quick strike with a blade. Weights were strapped to the edge, and sweat was dripping down her neck.

“Are you listening?” Bianca asked, stopping and tilting her head.

“I’m listening,” Pallas said, stopping and pulling her wing back. “I’m glad you had some fun. I’m still supposed to stay in the barracks and get bed rest.”

Bianca frowned and looked around at the garden, and the weights strapped to Pallas’ wing. “Then shouldn’t you be getting rest?”

“This is physical therapy,” Pallas said, lifting her nose and looking down at Bianca as if it was obvious. “I’m making sure my wings stay strong. As soon as I’m cleared by the doctor, the first thing I’m doing is going on a nice long flight.”

“What about…?” Bianca gestured to Pallas’ broken wing.

Pallas sighed and raised it, stretching it out carefully and wincing at the pain. “It’s healing pretty quickly. It’s going to be a pain in my flank for a few weeks, though.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Pallas and Bianca turned at the voice to see Silver Tongue walking towards them. He opened a saddlebag at his side and took out a pouch, tossing it to Pallas. She caught it in her teeth and opened the drawstring carefully. Inside was a handful of prismatic dust.

“What’s this?” Pallas asked. She tilted the pouch, and watched as the powder inside caught the light, reflecting colors all across the rainbow.

“Breezie dust,” Silver Tongue said. “Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s not made from ground-up Breezies or anything.”

“I didn’t know Breezies were real,” Bianca said.

“They are,” Silver Tongue snorted. “Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn’t have Breezie dust to begin with. They live in a magical realm isolated from ours. Terribly fragile creatures, really. They need help from ponies to gather the pollen their realm requires, and in return this is what we get.”

“This isn’t like, Breezie vomit or anything, is it?” Pallas frowned. “After I learned where honey comes from I wasn’t able to eat it for a week.”

“No, no. It’s scales from their wings,” Silver Tongue said. “Their wings are covered in countless tiny scales, like a butterfly’s. Once a year they grow new scales and replace the ones that have gone missing, much like how a pegasus molts their feathers… which you two likely also don’t know about.” Silver Tongue sighed.

“Oh no, I know about that,” Bianca said. “Though Pegasai really don’t like to talk about it. They just use euphemisms like ‘it’s that time of the year’ and stuff like that.”

“Hmph. Unlike pegasus down, which is useful only for stuffing pillows, Breezie dust can heal wounds and ease pain. Mix a pinch with hot water and it turns into a paste. Rub it into your wing, and the bones will heal in days instead of weeks.”

“I like the sound of that,” Pallas smiled. “Should work for broken ribs too, right?”

“It would work even better if you didn’t get yourself turned into a thin soup,” Silver Tongue retorted. “You’re lucky to have this. That bag is worth more than its weight in gold.”

“Why are you giving it to me?” Pallas asked. Silver Tongue turned and looked around the garden, as if watching for eavesdroppers.

“I’m not exactly welcome here,” Silver Tongue eventually said. “And I don’t like the atmosphere around this place. It feels too much like politics, and that’s what got me run out of the Academy to begin with. I want to make sure you have my back.”

“Of course I do,” Pallas said, frowning. “We’re part of the same team.”

“Good,” Silver Tongue nodded. “I also want you to be careful. Damn careful. You might not think politics has anything to do with you, but you’re one of Luna’s favorites. Just because of that link to her, you might be in danger. Luna is a friend to the honest and selfless among the nobility, and by that I mean she has few allies and many enemies – and all of those foes are underhanded to an extreme.”

“What, you want me to be ready to fight my way free of red tape?” Pallas grinned.

“Something like that,” Silver Tongue grinned. “Have you ever heard the story of the Minos Knot? It’s an old Minotaur story.” Pallas shook her head. “You’ll like it. About five hundred years ago, when the world was still roiling and the borders of the modern world were in flux, Basileus was wintering in the province then known as Minos. Even then, he was a mighty and ancient warrior, though he preferred the road to a palace and a brace of boon companions to an army. During the reign of Discord, which had only recently ended, the oracle there had tied a knot from a single length of cord and proclaimed that the one to untie it would be the warrior to unite the minotaur tribes, which had never joined under a single flag.

“Basileus wasn’t interested in proving himself, but he was curious about how a simple knot could mark one as being a being of prophesy. Many had failed before him, and he ordered the knot brought out so he could see the rope that had so defeated wise tacticians and cunning warriors alike.

“The knot was brought out on a brass platter, a tangle of impossible angles and warped rope, obviously the product of chaos magic. Basileus tried to find the ends, but the knot was larger on the inside than without, and the ends were lost in the infinity. Basileus stepped back from the knot, but before the attendants could remove it, he drew his sword and smote it in twain. The chaos magic within the knot erupted, and the rope fell away. As he withdrew his sword, there was merely a neat pile of cord, uncut and untied. Of course, he later united the tribes of minotaurs and became the Khan of Khans, and remains so to this day. Not because of the knot, but because of his own strength and character.”

“I like that,” Pallas grinned. “He took the easy way out.”

“He had a different perspective,” Silver Tongue replied. “He wasn’t cunning or learned, but he was strong. Doing things the same way as others led to failure, but when he refused to play the same game, and instead did things his way, he had success. And it was wise, in its own way. There is no easier way to untangle a knot, as long as you don’t fear violence.”

“And you want me to be able to cut through any knots that show up,” Pallas said.

“You’re more presentable than the Dragoons,” Silver Tongue said. “I don’t even know if Hungry Ghost is staying in the palace. He’s probably in the Low City somewhere, knowing his history. I want you to be available to do what needs to be done, if it should come to it.”

“There aren’t exactly a lot of griffons around here,” Pallas pointed out.

“No, there aren’t. But there might still be enemies. Watch your backs,” Silver Tongue cautioned, as he walked away.

“Do you think he means you might have to kill ponies?” Bianca whispered.

“I think you have something else to worry about,” Pallas said. She tossed Bianca the pouch of dust. “I could use some help getting my wounds covered with this. Go get some clean water and meet me in my bunk.”

Bianca grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief.