“Strange does not rhyme with Orange, student of mine.” Zecora said, stirring the cauldron.

“I said it was similar, not rhyming. Porridge is a better rhyme anyway.” Robert grunted, feeding fuel into the fire beneath.

“Perhaps, but it does not mean you have to say that Orange is what my Porridge tastes like.”

“I speak only the truth.” Robert said, clearly lying through his fangs. Zecora rolled her eyes.

“What a tangled web we weave, when practice to deceive.” she said.

“I'm not practicing, teacher dear. I'm doing it now and here.” he laughed, eyes twinkling in the firelight.

“How you do that I don't know. But keep it up, and your nose will grow.” she smiled. "Now come and fetch the ingredients.”

“Yes Teacher. Dragon Scales you said?”

“Indeed, just the green, not the red.” he dropped several in and the color changed. "That was unexpected. These scales might be infected. she examined the jar. And that explains a lot. A case of scale rot.”

“Great. I suppose this requires I go fetch a new batch?”

“Unfortunately, there is no batch to be had. Zecora said. "The scales before you are all that I have left until the next dragon migration.”

“And the potion?”

“I suppose we'll have to try something else.”

“No, I mean the potion!”

The explosion wasn't quite the equal of the one that had lifted the tree into the air, but it was still particularly impressive. And it smelt like a week old skunk in the sunlight.

“My home it needs some airing. So for now I'll go to the spa for some soft and tender caring. You have the rest of this day off as well.” she paused. "I hope Aloe and Lotus can rid me of this smell.” the slightly charred, decidedly off smelling Zebra walked off down the path.

“Ugh.” Robert said, and turned towards the stream. He paused and considered it, then headed further into the woods. Deep in the woods, he found what he was looking for. Zecora had mentioned it, and he knew it was around. The spell circle was set into the ground, and covered over now. From the condition, he doubted she'd had cause to use it. The smell in the air was enough to convince him it was worth digging it out, and he set to work. Big powerful paws weren't particularly suited to digging, but he wasn't in a rush. When he was done with his job, it was clean as if he had taken a brush. He stalked the edge of the circle, marking a few symbols. He poured power into those runes, then stood in the middle. For a moment nothing happened. Then light flashed and he stood in the middle, sniffing. The smell was gone. So he noted, with chagrin, was a small portion of fur, but thankfully no skin.

“Oh Sovereigns, now I'm doing it.” he shook his head, checked the circle and released the excess magic. Then he turned and headed towards Ponyville. He passed Zecora, who still smelled from the explosion.

“How did you?” she asked. "Of course, he would have taught you.” she shook her head.

“You do then remember my teachers propensity for accumulating strange smells.”

“It was indeed memorable.”

“My mother refused to let him into the house when he became quite ripe. And yet he'd return in a few minutes smelling like a daisy. He finally let me in on the secret.”

“Your mother was not the first, to hold him at the door, because his smell put everyone on the floor.” Zecora smiled. Robert wondered, exactly what she was remembering, then put it firmly out of his mind. He did not want to know. "Go on ahead, if I hurry, I might get in the spa, they'd probably not let me in while I smell like, fah.” She had paused and taken a whiff. She waved him off as she coughed. He nodded his head and picked up his pace. He didn't have anywhere to be, but he definitely wanted some space.

Ponyville is no Canterlot, but even in a sleepy little town it's possible to find something to do on a weekday afternoon. Even so, Robert was decidedly surprised to find himself caught up in a musical number. Incongruously, Pinkie was not leading it, but was the one being sung to. He vaguely recollected the two ponies leading the number as being the owners of the bakery where she worked. For the life of him he could not recollect what they were called, nor the name of their place. The song ended, and the ponies returned to what they were doing, as if nothing had happened. Robert took their lead, and approached the brightly smiling Pinkie Pie.

“Hello Robert.” She said, slightly lopsidedly. He wasn't sure how one said words lopsidedly, but he was willing to bet Pinkie could. "Whatcha doin'?”

“Looking for something to do. I have the day off while Zecora's house recovers from something it ate.” Pinkie raised an eyebrow, higher than should have been possible.

“Bad dragon scales.”

“Ah.” Pinkie said. She didn't seem quite right. He wasn't sure why, but there it was. "I had some Baked Bads once. They were awful. Spike liked them. Of course he eat's gems, so there's that. Do you think Zecora's house would like something”? she paused. "What would a house eat anyway?”

“I don't know, maybe doorstops?” Pinkie looked at him, then giggled. And all at once, she was Pinkie again.

“I have a recipe for Chocolate Doorstops.” she grinned. "I don't even know why.”

“Seems like a good thing to have. With fudge filling?” Robert asked. Pinkie laughed.

“Well, of course.” she tapped him on the shoulder. "What else would you put in them?

“Cream. Or custard. Or maybe cherry.” he thought it over. "Not cherry. Strawberry perhaps.”

“Eww, chocolate covered cherries.”

“Tell me about it.” Robert looked her in the eye. "What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“That bout of sad you had.”

“Oh.” She looked around. "Well, I'm always up. So when I get down, I get WAY DOWN.” she flattened down. “And sometimes it takes a little bit to spring back.”

“Ah. Does it happen often?

“No.” she shrugged. "Nopony seems to know why it happens. None of the doctors seemed to have an answer. I just get myself going and I'm fine again.”

“Bet they offered something for you, didn't they?”

“Yeah.” Pinkie looked off into the distance. "I tried it. You know?” she sighed. "It worked, I evened out, mellowed out, a lot. I was... normal.” Her hair straightened a little. "But there were side effects. I couldn't concentrate sometimes, and other times I couldn't stop concentrating. You know, you get obsessed by one little thing and you can't let it go?”

“Yes.” Robert nodded.

“I couldn't keep taking them. There were other things that were worse.” she smiled. "Eventually they did find something, but I can't take it all the time, you know? It's just when the bad ones hit me. It's too good though. I let the Cakes keep it for me though. That way I don't get tempted.”

“Smart move.” Robert reached out, and put his paw on her withers. "Gotta say Pinkie, your friends are lucky to have you.”

“Aww, thanks.” Pinkie smiled brighter. "Guess I'd better get cooking some doorstops then, so Zecora's house feels better.”

“Make me some too. Haven't tasted a good doorstop in a long time.” Pinkie stared at him for a moment, not entirely sure whether he was serious “All the ones around here are too rubbery.” he waved a chewed on door stop in front of her. She laughed.

“Yeah, no flavor.” she leaned close and pecked his cheek. "Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime.” she bounced away into the bakery. Robert shook his head, and realized that he still had nothing to do. He stood up and started through town. He was halfway down the road, when two thoughts hit him. And a bolt of cloth. The first thought was that he didn't actually have much money left from his trip. Second was that he wasn't exactly sure where being able to bite through a jugular vein would come in handy and thus be a useful skill for getting a job. Free room and board from Zecora was alright, but if she was going to continue to cook, he needed some money of his own. The bolt of cloth was totally unexpected.

“No, no, no!” Robert dropped to the ground as a ponikin missed his head by inches. "It's all wrong!” Robert retrieved the ponikin and the cloth, and carefully approached the door. From an oblique angle, because things continued to fly out the door. He arrived at the door, and peered in. Rarity was inside, and he realized he'd never actually known where she lived.

“Something wrong?” he asked, shielding himself with the ponikin.

“Oh, hello Robert. No, nothing wrong at all. Just the nuances of the Creative process.”

“I admit never having quite understood the mindset of the artist, but this appears to be more of a Destructive process.” he smiled, setting the ponikin in the corner. He waved the bolt. Rarity pointed to a pile, and he laid it on top.

“Oh, it can seem such to the untrained eye. However, I am an artiste and this is creative.”

“I see. And what exactly are you attempting to create?”

“Fashion.” Rarity said, coming immediately to the crux of the problem.

“Oh. I see. Such a decidedly broad term.”

“Indeed. I have done so much that I simply have no idea what to do next. These are old designs.” numerous papers and dresses, some of them half finished, some of them never worn, floated before him. “All of them old now. Of course some will come back into fashion, and others will never again see the light of DAY.” she paused, and waited. Nothing happened. One moment. she stalked out the door. There was a loud noise, and she returned. “Never again see the light of DAY!” Lighting struck in the background, thunder rumbling for a moment. “Much better.”

“Hmm... and now you need something fresh and new?”

“Indeed. I am developing a new fabric and I need something amazing for it to become.” Robert studied the sketches and dresses for a moment.

“Why not combine some of these?” he asked, after a moment. "I am no fashion designer, but I have played with spell-making, and it's often easier to take pieces of other spells and forge them together, than it is to completely create a new spell.” Rarity stared at him for a moment.

“That is... genius.” she flipped several drawings around. "Yes, I can combine these, and these.” several designs, and a few dresses exploded. Robert found himself blinking from under a pile of left over pieces of cloth. "Viola!” Rarity said, showing off her newest design.

“Magnificent.” Robert said, muffled slightly by the pile. “Tassels?”

“A little Saddle Arabian flair goes a long way I find.” Rarity said with a shrug. “Perhaps not gold though.” The golden braids fell away and she replaced them with silver. “Perfection.”

“Indeed.” Robert stood up, shrugging off most of the fabric. Several pieces remained stuck to his head. Rarity swept them away. “Thank you.”

“So, I must admit, that never did get to find out much about you. Pinkie's Parties are fabulous for having fun, but for actually talking to ponies, they are a bit loud.” she smiled.

“Yes, I did happen to notice that. Of course, some like those. I do like a quieter gathering now and then.” Rarity smiled.

“As do I. So, tell me about yourself.” she said, levitating a steaming teapot from the kitchen and settling herself down on her couch. "Do you have a special some...” she paused. "One?”

“I do indeed. Her name is... Steel Rose. Not a precise translation, but close enough. She is beautiful. Sleek of fur, and as tenacious as the day is long. She even battled my mother near to a stand still over my price.”

“Your price?” Rarity asked, vaguely appalled.

“Indeed. Much as she approved of my betrothal, I am the son of a Chieftain and I cannot wed one not willing to pay for me. Fortunately, they were able to save the eye.” Rarity stared. “An accident, which happily lowered my price.”

“That seems barbaric.” Rarity said.

“Mother is a traditionalist. She knew the risks when she entered the ring. Besides, I nearly lost an ear when I fought her father for her price. I wear the victory scar with honor.” he reached up and brushed aside the fur on his shoulder, showing a long mark where a claw had slid across his shoulder.

“H-how does one win such a fight?” Rarity asked, disgusted, and at the same time, fascinated.

“They are timed, from sunrise to sunset, though most often they go to whomever remains standing, since battling a full day is rare. The victor is chosen, in cases of long battles, by whomever has the fewest wounds. A strong warrior can inflict more wounds on an opponent than they take and pay a lower price for the honor of marriage. Father and Daughter choose a price, and then the Father and Husband prospective fight to see whether the price will rise or fall. I am proud to say I fought him down to half his starting price. The daughter receives half, as her father's wedding gift, while he is expected to use his half to pay for the wedding.” Robert smiled. "Upon hearing of my victory however, my father paid the full purse they had demanded to begin with. The equivalent of forty thousand bits if my exchange rates are correct.” Rarity fainted. Opal rolled her eyes, stood and fetched a bottle of smelling salts, kept on Rarity's desk for just these types of emergency.

“Feeling better?” Robert queried after Rarity had been successfully revived.

“Yes, I am. I, to give away such money. I am told I represent Generosity, but even so, I find it hard to fathom giving away such a sum.” she shook her head. “And you, what price did you ask of your bride to be?”

“Mother and I fought for weeks over that accursed number.” Robert shuddered. "She kept insisting I stand firm at one hundred thousand bits. I wanted her to set it at sixty thousand. Eventually my father convinced her to settle on eighty, and convinced me to let her do it.” he thought it over. "I prefer to suspect that he knew my Rose could defeat my mother, but that might not be the precise truth.”

“I don't know, I haven't met your father, but he must have had faith in your bride.”

“Indeed. And it was well placed. My mother made the proposal and Rose laughed in her face. Mother was FURIOUS. She didn't waste time arguing. She challenged Rose right then and there. The arena was barely setup before they fought. Just for reference, my father is known as one of the greatest warriors in our tribe, but my mother is one of the few to fight him, and win. Not a draw, or standstill as Rose was trying. But an honest win. Most tigers would and did put money on my mother to win. In truth she wasn't trying to win. It's not very polite to bankrupt your daughter-in-law.”

“I should say not.”

“Credit where it's due, Rose did spend most of the fight egging her on. Mother gets a little sloppy when she's angry. If she'd been thinking clearly, the blow would never have landed. It would have been quite the blow anyway, but mother moved wrong and Rose got her dew claw into the flesh just here.” He indicated the outer side of his eye. "Fortunately it missed the nerves and other vulnerable things there. The fight was stopped and my mentor halted the damage until a doctor got there. Given our history with ponies, you'd be surprised to learn how many Unicorn Doctors we have.”

“Yes, your history.” Rarity sounded as though she'd just found something nasty crawling in bathtub.

“Some Tigers try very hard to pretend it didn't happen you know.” Robert said. He sipped his tea. "I find that pretending something didn't happen is a form of lying. And I cannot stand liars.”

“Applejack feels the same way.” Rarity said. She considered her statement, taking into account Applejack's feelings on Tigers, and decided no revision was necessary. "I suspect once she overcomes her irrational dislike, you'll find her a close match.”

“Applejack might be many things, but I don't believe she's irrational.” Robert shook his head. "She has her own reasons, and I'm fairly certain I know what they are.” he took a deep breath. "Magic of friendship or no, I doubt seriously that I'll ever be that close to Applejack.”

“You can't know unless you make the effort.” Rarity said, putting a hoof on his shoulder.

“I know. I'll make the effort. I have never been known for my willingness to give up, but I won't give it very high odds of success until I see it work.” Robert shrugged. "Perhaps that's a bit pessimistic, but I've never found optimism to be entirely healthy.”

“Mmm...” Rarity sipped her tea. “A suggestion?”

“I eagerly await thine words milady.” Rarity nearly swooned before catching herself.

“Charmer.” she smiled. He smiled back. "Perhaps it's not about gaining Applejack's friendship. Perhaps it's about gaining her trust. She is a pony who always makes friends easily. Not so easily as Pinkie Pie, but I doubt anyone does. However, Applejack is slow to trust. She takes to her element more readily than the rest of us, and being Honest is important. She doesn't trust easily, perhaps because she's honest about her feelings, and it makes ponies want to lie, or smooth things over.”

“I can understand that.”

“Yes, and so Applejack doesn't trust easily, because so many would lie to preserve her trust in them.” Rarity levitated the tea pot up to refill her cup, and then Robert's. "If you earn her trust, I have little doubt that she will overcome her prejudice.”

“As I said, I'm not one to give up easily, so I will take your advice to heart.” Robert sipped his tea. "This is really very good.”

“Thank you, my own special blend.” She looked around, then grinned at him. "Really, I just put two different flavors of teabag into the pot and let it sit for a while. It absolutely horrifies poor Twilight, so I never mention it.”

“Our little secret then.” Robert winked. Rarity winked back. "Now, I have a question for you, that might sound a little strange.”

“Go ahead.”

“I am, in need of a job. I like Zecora, and she is a fantastic teacher. However, her cooking leaves something to be desired, and honestly, I'm really not sure I can take much more of it. Nothing full time, just something so I have a little spending money.”

“Hmm... I see”. her lips moved slightly as she thought it over. "Well, I can think of two things. The post office usually has a notice board for jobs. Usually just things around town that need doing, but on occasion they have special deliveries that require a tougher breed than the usual mail ponies. As for the other...”

“What?”

“Well, Pinkie did say she wanted to hire a clown for a birthday party, but the only one in town is still in the hospital from the last party.” Robert leaned forwards.

“Dangerous deliveries you say?”

---

Twilight was in her lab, working on a schedule for her new schedule, the sort of layered insanity most ponies had come to expect from Twilight, when Spike came down the stairs, holding a scroll. He saw what she was doing, and had anyone asked, he'd have been able to explain that she was now less insane than she once was. Having time on her schedule to actually schedule meant that she no longer had time to schedule time to schedule time to schedule things. Just thinking that sentence had made the little dragon go cross-eyed. He shook it off.

“Twilight?” She didn't respond right away. "Twilight, letter from Princess Celestia.”

The mention of her mentors name got through the fog of concentration to her. “Really?” Spike tossed the letter up and she caught it in a magenta glow.

'Twilight my friend and faithful student.

I would speak to you, your friend Applejack and this Tiger friend of yours regarding the issue you sent me a letter about. I will have a chariot waiting to bring the three of you to the castle just after moonrise. Spike may accompany you if you wish.

Sincerely, Princess Celestia.'

Twilight looked at Spike. “That's kind of a weird letter. I mean, even the one summoning me to save the Crystal Empire had a little more meat to it.”

“Sounds like she's nervous.” Spike suggested.

“Yeah. Which worries me. I'd better go find Applejack. Can you find Robert?”

“Sure. Do you want the letter?” he asked, indicating the still glowing scroll.

“No, why?”

“I want to show it to Robert. See if he finds anything weird about it.” Twilight raised an eyebrow. "It's just... you know how Celestia gets when she thinks anything is threatening her kingdom or it's citizens. And if they did have this war...”

“You're right. I trust Celestia, but we both know her temper runs deep and she's not one to easily give up a grudge.” Twilight sighed. "I hope the moon is nice this time of year.”

“I don't think Luna would let you get banished to the moon.” Spike said. “At least, not unless you both ended up there.”

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

They split up to find their respective targets. Spike found Robert first, as the Tiger was coming out of Rarity's place. Spike took a breath.

“Spike! What a pleasant surprise.” Rarity said with a smile. "I was just thinking about you.” she disappeared into the shop. There were several sharp thuds and the characteristic TWANG of scissors being stuck into the floorboards. Spike had helped often enough to recognize it instantly. Finally, “AH HA!” she returned a moment later carrying a small basket full of gems, no two of them alike and all of them slightly misshapen. "Here you are Spike. I found these while gem hunting. None of them fit into my patterns, so they're all yours.”

“Thanks Rarity.” Spike smiled and took the basket. “Anything else you need?”

“Not right now. Although, I was just about to show Robert the notice board in the post office, if you'd like to come along.”

“Actually, I came to see if you'd seen Robert.” Rarity leaned close to Spike.

“I have. He's rather hard to miss, wouldn't you say.” she winked at him. Spike laughed.

“Ha ha.” Robert said. “Can we walk and talk?”

“Sure. If it's okay Rarity.”

“Absolutely.” she started towards the post office.

“What can I do for you Spike?” Robert asked, keeping one eye on his path, and the other on the dragon.

“Twilight got a letter back from Princess Celestia. She's wants you, Twilight, Applejack and I to come to the castle just after Moonrise. She didn't say why though.” There was a worried note in his voice, which Rarity picked up on.

“Surely you're not worried she's going to do something are you?”

“A little. I've been Twilight's number one assistant for most of my life. Which means I learned as much about Celestia as I did about Twilight.” he took a breath. "She's not the most forgiving of ponies if she thinks you've done something wrong, and her temper is...”

“Legendary.” Rarity nodded.

“And not subtle at all, if the stories I have heard are correct.” Robert said.

“She once told Twilight that: 'Some leaders are willing to afford subtlety. I will not pay the cost for subtlety.' Never was quite sure what she meant.”

“I think I know.” Robert said. "My father said something similar to my brothers and I. 'A leader must not be afraid to pay a personal price to protect those they lead.' I think Celestia means the same. She must seem more harsh to her enemies to protect the citizens. If you wait too long trying to be subtle, you might lose more than you save.” Robert looked distant for a moment. “A lesson learned the hard way I presume.”

“That would be a safe guess.” Rarity said. She flashed back to the wedding in Canterlot. She'd always wondered if Celestia had lost because she couldn't risk more power. She'd never mentioned it though. Mostly because the whole event still gave her nightmares on occasion.

“Anyway, since moonrise is still a little while away, why don't we move on to that notice board.” Robert said.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

---

Applejack took a breath. She let it out, then inhaled. She braced her front legs against the ground, then in one smoothe motion, snapped her hind legs straight, striking the tree and dropping the ripe apples. Some of them weren't quite ripe but she was content to let them hang. She moved on to the next tree. Most ponies couldn't tell, but every tree had a particular place it preferred to be bucked from. She knew her trees and the ones Big Mac did. She could buck any of them, but each of them had a bucking mark near the base. Nothing official, but one spot where the front hooves landed. It wasn't all strength, and it wasn't all skill. They each played a part, but so did knowledge. It was easy to just hit a tree as hard as you could. And that worked, but you'd get half-ripe apples along with the fully ripe ones. Hit it wrong and you'd get no effect, or worse you'd hurt yourself. But knowing how to hit the tree and how hard to hit it was just a side-effect of knowing how to stand to hit the tree at all. Once you had that down, it was no problem.

Another breath, another smoothe...

“Applejack!” Twilight's voice called out. Applejack shifted her stance and missed the tree. Better to miss completely than hurt herself.

“Hiya Twilight. What can ah do ya for?” Applejack adjusted her hat so she could see her friend. Twilight flew in and flared her wings. She flapped for a moment, then settled to the ground. “Ah see the landing is doing better.”

“Yeah, I'm getting the hang of it.” Twilight said. "How's the applebucking going?”

“Doin' alright. That what you come all the way out here fer?” Applejack asked.

“No. Celestia sent me a letter. She wants you, me, Robert and Spike to meet her in Canterlot just after Moonrise. She's sending a chariot.” At the mention of Robert, Applejack's eyes narrowed slightly.

“Any idea what about?” She asked.

“I sent her a letter, and asked her about the Tiger War. I didn't hear back until a little bit ago.”

“Why does she want me?” Applejack asked. “Ah'm not into the politics and ah'm sure no historian.”

“I'm sure Celestia has her reasons. If you don't want to go, I'll tell her that. I'm sure she'll understand.” Twilight offered. Applejack mulled it over for a long moment.

“No. Ah'll come. She asked for me to come, she must have some reason. And Ah'm not gonna disappoint Princess Celestia.”

“Thank you Applejack.” Twilight hugged her.

“It's nothing. Now go on, let me finish the buckin' I can, and I'll meet you in the usual place.” AJ hugged Twilight back for a moment, and then watched her fly away. Then she shook her head, and started to breathe again. She bucked the tree, and got hit with an apple. "Figures.”