Thomas decided that things need only be as awkward as he made them. That seemed like the mature way to approach the situation. Sure, his familiar routine had been shaken by the intrusion of a stranger, but that was no reason to sulk. As the very smart and respectable Warren Farrell liked to say: “You are the architect of your own misery.” That meant that it was ultimately on each individual to decide how they reacted to things. In this case, Thomas decided to view this as a test of how far he’d come since his arrival in Equestria.

However, given that the human was still very much a home body and lacked any real compulsion to go outside, it fell upon Silver to pick the destination for tonight’s date.

“We should go to the museum.”

“Oh. Is there a new exhibit or something?”

“No, but that is the point. We are outside the tourist season and there have not been any recent additions. Attendance will be low, so things should be reasonably quiet.”

Thomas smiled and bumped the small mare’s shoulder. “You sure there isn’t a new Luna exhibit?”

She scoffed. “Just because I have a healthy appreciation for the amazing and gorgeous mare, that is no excuse to treat me as though I am obsessed.”

Thomas nodded. “No, I guess you’re right.” The pair walked along the streets in no great hurry. Other pedestrians sidestepped the shorter pair with little fuss. Those that saw their third member moved out of the way with greater urgency, but ultimately went about their business. “There are plenty of better reasons to call you obsessed.”

Incensed by such rudeness, Silver delivered a fierce and righteous smack upon her friend’s bottom. He yelped and jumped a little, but his wretched smile only fanned the mare’s flames of ire. She huffed and turned her nose up. “I will have you know that there is far more to me than some stereotypical bat pony frothing at the mouth over the obviously superior Princess.”

“Yeah, I know,” Thomas agreed casually, too engrossed with the conversation to pay much mind to the ponies staring warily as they gave him a wide berth. “You’re also a pretty classy lady.”

Silver flipped an ear at him.

“The way you talk and even the way you walk,” he motioned, “all give off this vibe that you’re from high society. Just speaking with you kind of makes me feel like I’m an uncultured bumpkin in comparison. Normally I don’t care at all about that stuff, so you getting me to notice is pretty impressive.”

Silver allowed herself a proud but soft smile.

“But you don’t flout it, if that’s the word. You’re dignified, but don’t feel the need to show off or look down on others. I guess you make me feel a little self-conscious, but in a way that makes me want to be better. It’s like how someone can start talking about proper back posture and everyone just starts straightening up.”

Silver turned to face her companion, her face devoid of any prior wrath. “I make you want to be better?”

“Sure. Come to think of it, all the mares in the harem kind of have that effect. It’s like you’ve all got these things about you that I can’t help but respect and want to emulate.” Seeing Silver’s pleading eyes, Thomas guessed that it would be too embarrassing for her to ask him to elaborate on her specific qualities, though she clearly wanted him to. “Well, like I said about you being the picture of culture. You’ve got manners and you almost always speak so carefully and respectfully. You’re the sort of person that parents with wilder kids would point to and say ‘why can’t you be more like her?’ But you’ve also got a cute flustered side that makes you fun to tease.”

Silver snorted, but kept her expression warm and serene. “And you, Thomas, are very easy to talk to.”

He shrugged. “Such is one of the myriad of boons in being an introvert. I can also entertain myself with my own thoughts while others get fidgety if they don’t move for too long.”

Silver chuckled. “True enough, but there is more. You really make an effort to listen. Although you are an outsider, you make the conscious effort to pay attention and make a pony feel listened to. That is less passive than it might seem, and I am not the only one who appreciates this about you.”

Smiling, Thomas decided to reach out and take Silver’s hand as they walked.

“Oh my. So forward!” Silver gasped dramatically.

“Shut up,” he chided, although his heart wasn’t in it as he blushed.

“You almost never want to hold hands, though. Is there a reason?”

“I guess. I mean, I hold Moonlight’s hand a lot. Maybe it’s ‘cause she’s the only one I really walk with alone. Any other time I’m with you guys in a bigger group and I guess things get awkward.”

“How so?”

“It’s probably silly, but it’s like I feel pressured to pick who to hold hands with; like I don’t want anyone to feel excluded. I know it’s probably nothing, but I get so wrapped up in thinking about it that it just seems easier to compromise and not hold anyone’s hand. Also there’s the height thing.”

Silver made an ‘o’ face and nodded. “That one I understand.”

“You do?”

“Indeed. ‘Tis one thing to walk alongside the likes of Moonlight, who is only slightly taller. But in the company of the overbearing height of the others…” she trailed off.

“Yeah. It’s like you’re holding your parent’s hand or something. I know it’s dumb, but I sometimes get a little self-conscious walking with the big ladies. Making things worse is how everyone seems to think I have a super young face, so it’s like there’s justification for them thinking I’m walking with my mom.”

“Such is the burden carried by those of us who are small and cute,” Silver agreed solemnly. “Add to that the all too frequent indignity of being forced to sit in the laps of our peers, and I am honestly surprised that we did not think to go out sooner. ‘Tis truly refreshing to actually be able to look into a friend’s eyes without needing to crane my neck back.”

“I wonder if Luna has the opposite problem, living in a land of shorties.”

Silver gave an aristocratic snort. “Of all the burdens my beloved must bear, I am reasonably certain that looking up all the time is more straining than looking down.”

Thomas chuckled and gave the mare’s hand a squeeze, which she returned.

Arriving at the museum, Thomas paid for three tickets. Frugal as he was, he’d seen his bank account and knew he could easily afford something like this. Not helping matters was the way the ticket mare gave a disapproving look at Silver, quietly shaming her for making the stallion pay. Thomas smiled at this. He also hoped that Jet would appreciate the gesture, small as it was.

Thomas had been to this museum before with Luna, so there weren’t very many surprises. Although those times it was a media circus with journalists and VIPs competing for Luna’s attention, all while he stood in the background and waited for her to need some stress relief. With no responsibilities and fewer bodies clogging up the halls, he was actually able to enjoy the exhibits in a far more relaxed atmosphere.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen any prostitutes outside the harem.”

Silver’s eyebrow made an inquisitive climb up her forehead. Thomas’ comment was strikingly sudden, especially given that they were looking at some pre-Exodus pottery. “What brought this on?”

“Just thinking. The Princesses have this super need, right. Well, if prostitution is more accepted for ponies, does that make it more common? Like, each office has a manager, an accountant, and the office hooker who gets to just walk around until they’re called?”

Silver’s face scrunched in thought. “I never really thought about it, although I doubt such a set up actually exists. Most whorses operate out of brothels in a fashion analogous to that of a restaurant. A customer comes in, orders something from the menu, and then ventures to a private room where they may partake in their order,” she explained matter-of-factly. “What?”

Thomas was chuckling. “Sorry. It’s just,” he giggled again, “the way you said it. It was so casual, like there’s nothing special about it, but you also used really clean words like ‘partake’. I’m just,” he shook his head while wearing the silliest of grins, “having a bit of trouble pinning down the tone.”

Silver stared perplexed at the man, confused by his confusion. “Sex is special when shared by ponies in love. Bucking, if you prefer the more crass term, is what happens when a whorse relieves the needs of their clients’ bodies. Bucking,” she shook her head in disgust at using such a crass word in public, “is little more than a business transaction.”

“As opposed to sex, which is more emotional.”

“Precisely!”

“So, technically speaking, we’re not actually whorses, are we?”

Silver chuckled, although her ears pivoted around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers. “That depends on how you look at it. Although, in our case, in the strictest definition of the term,” she leaned in close and lowered her volume, “I suppose we are not.” She giggled like a filly sharing in school gossip.

Jet’s expressionless face made it look like she wasn’t paying attention, which was her intent. She was a guard assigned to a mobile charge. It was her duty to watch and protect him, not eavesdrop on his frivolous conversations. Nothing of interest was being said anyways, so she was free to devote the bulk of her focus to her task. The halls of the museum were spacious and largely empty, just as Silver had predicted. This would make it next to impossible for anypony to sneak up on them. And although her armor would deter any stereotypical goons in black masks, the elegant violet metal was also a beacon that there was something nearby worth protecting. And although the addition of the museum’s security guards made it unlikely that anything would happen so long as they were here, the real risk would come once they were back out in the open.

Jet entertained herself with combat scenarios while maintaining her watch. Being a bat pony and reasonably confident in her aerial skills, she believed there was little to fear from any pegasus or other bat ponies. Earth ponies were generally slowed down by all that extra muscle, but that just meant that even a grazing hit would do substantially more damage. By her side she had a sheathed sword, along with a pouch of potions and powders. If she could keep her distance and blind her opponent, that would give her an invaluable edge with which to take them down.

But the real danger, as ever, would come from unicorns. The trick with unicorns was that their abilities had such a wide variety. With an earth pony, a keen eye could discern if they were more of a sprinter or built for the endurance of a marathon. Yet only another unicorn could determine the opponent’s range or level of control. Moonlight was the sort with a short range, but had above average control, enabling her conjured shield to double as an effective bludgeon. Having a shield as a preferred weapon would also make it harder for Jet to use her bag of tricks. Since overpowering the unicorn was unlikely, Jet reasoned that the key to this particular victory would lay in misdirection, of either distracting her or finding a way to attack from two sides.

Yet Jet understood that all of this was still amateur level thinking. They were both guards, which meant that just as she had been trained to counter unicorn abilities, Moonlight had been trained to handle opponents trained to counter unicorns. She’d keep her range low so as not to expend too much energy too early. And even if Jet found a way to divide her attention, she did not know the mare’s full library of spells. Even the tiniest spell could make all the difference. Moonlight could, for instance, cast an ignition spell that was no more intense than a lit match. However, if aimed properly, she could ignite somewhere extremely painful and turn the tables in the blink of an eye.

Of course, Jet was only using Moonlight as a stand-in for unicorns in general, and this wasn’t meant to be indicative of anything. A less disciplined unicorn would probably start out with something flashy to shock their opponent, perhaps by using a bright flash of light. Such things were costly, but a bright light would be exceptionally effective against a bat mare’s sensitive eyes. A loud noise would be just as dangerous, but both would run the risk of attracting unwanted attention. If that happened, even in the unlikely event of somepony snatching Thomas and winking away, there would already be unicorn guards on the scene to pick up the trail and follow in force.

In this scenario, the most sensible goal of any attacker would be to abduct Thomas. He was an exotic creature with close ties to a Princess, making him ideal for ransom. However, knowing the guards’ record with such dealings, the smarter thing might be to take him out of the country and sell him on the black market. Besides the obvious desires of disgusting perverts, the fabled human come to life would attract the eye of alchemists. To them, a human would seem like an untapped gold mine, once they chopped him up of course. The supply of human parts would be finite, so either he’d be given over to a true master who could figure out how to use him without frivolously wasting the supply on too many experiments, or end up in the hands or claws of a crafty sort who would flood the market with fakes.

Jet Black understood how morbid her thoughts were. Being largely vegetarian, most ponies abhorred the very idea of leather, let alone all the miracles and abominations created by alchemists using the organs of rare creatures. The things in her bag of tricks were all perfectly legal; made from the organs of domesticated and non-endangered creatures, or horns bought legally from minotaurs, or scales harmlessly scavenged from the Dragon Lands. These were all just facts about the world they lived in, and it seemed foolish to try and hide from them.

Moonlight, Jet reasoned, was likely just as aware. As a guard, her training must have included the basics on how to spot signs of the illegal trafficking of alchemical ingredients. She must have known that this was among the more likely reasons why Thomas needed to be guarded. Surely she knew, but was she like other ponies in that she shied away from the darker truth of things? Was she willfully ignorant enough that news of the latest aphrodisiac hitting the market didn’t make her gag while picturing how it was most likely made? That was how Jet reacted, which she considered to be most sensible.

However, like too many others who supposedly shouldered the burden of protecting this land, Moonlight probably wasn’t as sensible as Jet. She probably liked to pretend that Canterlot was as safe as it claimed, that a lack of any obvious danger enabled her to drop her guard while on duty. Moonlight probably wouldn’t even think past her charge, of what an enemy alchemist of sufficient skill might actually do with the human. If humans were truly non-magical, then how might their ingredients react to that of something especially magical; for instance, a unicorn’s severed horn? It was a revolting notion, but one that the protectors of Equestria needed to consider. That so few did was why she was here in the first place.

Thomas and Silver continued their idle chatter as they moved from one exhibit to the next. This sculpture symbolizes this. That artist was going for that idea. Whoever painted this thing was probably under the influence of something. Jet followed, always three steps behind and her ears constantly searching for signs of anything suspicious. Silent and ever vigilant, she was the very picture of how a guard should be. It was of little surprise when museum security straightened up after spending more than a second looking at her.

“Is something bothering you?”

“A few things. First,” Thomas pointed to the painting taking up most of the wall, “this looks like something straight out of Lovecraft.”

“Out of what?” Being a pony, hearing a name like Lovecraft had caused Silver to make several assumptions about such a name, all of which were inaccurate to a hilarious extent.

“He’s a writer famous for his descriptions of other worldly monsters, nightmare abominations from beyond the stars, and things with thinking that’s so alien from ours that it’s almost maddening to make sense of it.”

The painting, to all in earshot, fit that description like a glove. A mass of writhing tendrils and grotesque mouths had swarmed atop a mountain. A single hideous eye shined brightly as dark clouds concealed the sky, casting the ground in unnatural and sickly yellow hues. Trees that resembled hands dotted the landscape, strangling everything unlucky and stupid enough to come within reach. And in the foreground stood a tiny beacon of hope, emitting a soft blue light that held the not-darkness at bay. Despite that the pony’s back was to the viewer, it was clear that she was having some sort of standoff with the colossal abomination that took up most of the canvas. Though she was small, the coloration combined with the wings and horn made it clear who this was.

At the bottom was the title: ‘A Nightmare’s Nightmare’.

Although somewhat distressed, Silver puffed her chest in pride when she realized what she was looking at. “Nightmare monsters look their most ferocious only in the dream. If you were to pull this thing into the waking world, even you could probably kill it if armed with a sharp pencil.”

Thomas chuckled at the amusing thought, but guessed by the tightness of the mare’s grip that the bravado was more for her sake. She was the mare, which meant she had to be brave for the stallion. Hampering this social obligation was how ponies tended to process emotions differently from humans. Thomas still didn’t fully understand it all. It didn’t seem right to say that humans were more stoic, or that ponies all wore their emotions on their sleeves. He’d seen far too many examples contradicting such a theory.

Maybe the difference was in how they processed images and stories? When the first short film of a train arriving was made, people jumped out of their seats for fear of being run over. When the original King Kong came out in theatres, there were a bunch of warnings to remind the audience that what they were seeing wasn’t real. Thomas, having been raised on movies and going on to witness the vast splendor of still art on the internet, was largely numb to this sort of thing. He had a disconnect that told him that this was just a picture. By contrast, Silver was likely plagued with the understanding that this sort of thing was more than just a picture. Monsters like these really existed, and one might have even tormented her when she was young. Maybe nightmares brought on by monsters brought on a whole different kind of fear, one that was not so easily dismissed upon waking.

Whatever the reason, Thomas squeezed her hand right back and started pulling her away. “Maybe we should move on.”

“Yes, lets,” Silver said as though it were her idea and took the lead. They were already in the Princess Luna section of the museum, so there was no shortage of exhibits to catch her eye. There were representations of Luna past and present, depicting her sitting regally on a throne while overseeing petitioners, in the midst of fierce battles with enemies of many species, extending the hand of diplomacy with a tribe of primitives, or just standing around looking bored.

Thomas laughed at those last ones. “What do you think she’d rather be doing right now?” He gestured to the mare’s forced grin.

“After she punched the painter and ate the canvas?” Silver asked. “I could not say.” And they both chuckled. “I actually prefer this one.”

Luna was standing in the middle of a crowd of bat ponies. They were either naked or wearing loin cloths while the guards by her side wore armor that shone with refinement. At the hooves of the guards were baskets of food and fabrics, all being eyed hungrily by the malnourished primitives. Luna appeared to be offering the hand of friendship, which was accepted by a mare wearing a feathery headdress.

“It’s meant to contrast the primitives to the Equestrians, right?” he guessed. “The Equestrians have such nice things because they’re so advanced. The primitive bat ponies should count themselves lucky that the civilized are taking pity on them.” His words were shared with no shortage of sarcastic venom.

Silver gave the man a look. Then she looked to the painting, and back to him, and her perfect posture fell apart. “It was supposed to be optimistic. The bat pony tribe had just overcome countless trials to make it this far, and Luna is there to welcome them with open arms. But…” She gestured to the painting. “I suppose that was actually a common attitude at the time,” she reluctantly admitted and huffed in a manner befitting a noble. “You ruined it. It was something beautiful, and you ruined it,” she whined and stormed off, Thomas hot on her hooves.

Jet followed, sparing only a single glance for the painting. She thought on how he’d discerned the cultural context of the scene so easily. As far as she knew, the human’s knowledge of Equestrian history was spotty at best. If she had to guess, his assessment was based upon comparing this painting to similar human art, and his derisive attitude reflected a poor opinion of his own past. Jet was mindful of her own biases and would have to be careful when writing her reports, although her superiors would appreciate if such insights were included. What he says and what he doesn’t say, she remembered.

Silver was able to recover from her foalish tantrum after Thomas bought her a beverage. She had been acting dramatically for the sake of drama, but the gift had left her feeling guilty over such unbecoming behavior. In any case, she needed to make it up to him. “Should we,” she leaned in and blew on his ear, “go freshen up in the lavatory?”

Thomas smiled flatly. “It was one thing when you-know-who practically dragged me in there and cast all kinds of spells to keep the smell away. Sorry, but I’m not too keen on doing that in a public bathroom if I can afford it.”

Silver’s ears splayed in defeat. “I cannot argue that.” Even if she were a unicorn and could cast a decontamination spell, that would not make the strange bathroom any less strange, nor any less filled with all manner of alien germs. “The bathrooms would be a terrible location.”

“See, this is why prostitution should be a standard part of any kind of business. If it were, they’d probably have a room already set up that we could borrow.”

“Are you still insisting on this?”

“Yeah.”

“Well stop. It is absurd.”

“How so?” he asked. “I can think of several human reasons, but what are the pony reasons?”

Instead of telling him off, Silver remembered that she still owed him for her earlier behavior. Indulging his question seemed like a fitting start. “Well, for one, I doubt there are actually that many whorses in the city. Such a skillset is actually quite rare, and there certainly would not be enough for every business.”

“Alright, then how about just the big businesses. A company of twenty or more could probably afford it. Maybe they just rent them for a designated day out of the month. Maybe they can even write it off as a business expense to maintain workplace stability.”

Silver had to chuckle at that. “Clever, but making it sound more plausible just heightens the absurdity. No pony is going to do that.”

“Well, why?”

“For one, I honestly doubt the crowns would ever allow workplace prostitution to be tax exempt. Besides the whole thing being terribly silly, by that line of reasoning, all revenue from brothels would effectively be classified as tax exempt. I can practically hear the petitioners arguing how unfair it is for them to have to pay extra for others to get what amounts to a discount.”

“Okay. I’ll give you that one.” Thomas chuckled. “Now I’m thinking of everyone arguing why sex shouldn’t be therapeutic if it’s paid for.” He laughed again.

“For another, you have to consider the logistics. If there were a designated room, as you propose, would that room have a bed? How often would that bed be cleaned, which would cost, and how willing are you to touch a bed of another pony’s leavings?”

“Okay, yeah. That’s kind of gross.” Thomas then added, “I just realized how lucky I am that one of my girlfriends has servants that do the laundry for us.”

“Instead of a bed, would it not be cheaper to have a floor with a drain?”

“Which is basically just another bathroom,” Thomas sighed in defeat. “Fiiine!”

Silver beamed, most satisfied in her victory. However, her pride was short lived after she realized she’d just squashed his dreams. That just left her feeling even worse than before. “If not in the bathroom, then is there somewhere else you prefer? I feel guilty about acting foalishly earlier and am in increasing need of some manner of redemption.” All of this was said into her beverage as she was unable to look him in the eye.

Thomas smiled, a little taken aback by the mare’s forwardness. “Um, okay, but I’m not sure sex is really the best way to go about that. Pretty sure we were going to do that anyway.”

Silver snorted her discontent. “True enough. But you are notorious for keeping your wants to yourself. It makes matters frustrating for those seeking apology gifts.”

“Well, maybe that’s the point?” he offered. “Maybe I’m the kind of guy who likes making others squirm?”

Silver giggled and shook her head. “That sort of thing comes with the job, but you’re right. Sex is a terrible gift, not least of which because I might very well enjoy it more than you.”

“How you figure that?”

“My apologies, but it is simply common knowledge that mare parts are more sensitive,” she explained in a way that was almost bragging. “There are studies, not to mention tests with magic.”

“Okay, I’m calling BS on that second part. If the studies are done with magic, isn’t there a bias? Like if its what Luna did with-” he didn’t say, but opened and closed his fingers, “-then couldn’t they just make one more sensitive than the other?”

“Possible, but unlikely. In an experiment as you describe,” she mirrored his hand motions, “then there would be a third party present to provide the necessary scans to confirm exactly how the spell is being cast. Besides, what you describe is more of a test on that particular unicorn’s abilities. The studies I describe involve scans on volunteer test subjects. Far more scientifically sound.”

Thomas huffed through his nose. “Well I guess that makes more sense.” He laughed dismissively. “I guess magic scans can do just about anything.”

“Just about, yes,” Silver nodded and took a final sip of her beverage. “If I may ask, how do humans manage?”

It took all of Jet’s might to keep her ears from fixing forward. It was what her reflexes demanded, so she took manual control, mindful to maintain a steady rotation while keeping at least one ear partially facing the most interesting conversation.

“With a lot of trial and error,” Thomas began plainly. “It started with what we could see with the naked eye, and then telescopes were invented to see the stuff really far away. Someone looked at that and figured out the reverse, which led to microscopes. Somewhere in there someone figured out how chemicals led to different reactions. We got stethoscopes to enhance hearing, and at some point someone figured out machines to see heat, different kinds of light, and even inside the body.

“Sorry for not knowing the history. This probably sounds really dumb.”

“I do not think so. I imagine what you describe is the same across all civilizations. You simply did your way without the aid of magic.”

“Now I’m wondering if its really an aid, though.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, humans don’t have magic, so we’ve had to come up with other ways to solve problems. We don’t have any levitation, wings, or even super earth pony strength, but we still had heavy boxes that needed lifting. So we invented the pulley. We never had magic scans, so we had to work hard at finding other ways to figure out what’s what.”

Silver nodded. “Do not quote me on this, but I am almost certain that the pulley was invented by an earth pony who was tired of relying on unicorns and pegasi to do the lifting. I remember because she was said to have given a longwinded rant when her invention was put to use. That must have been pre-Exodus, several thousand years ago.”

“I don’t know when the human pulley was invented, probably around the same time, but I know a lot of our big medical discoveries weren’t made until the last couple centuries, and especially the last one.”

“It was the last millennium for us. Most modern medical equipment was developed over the course of several centuries.”

“And yet we’re kinda at the same level.” Thomas gestured around the museum’s lobby. “Funny, that.”

“Based on your dream memories, I would dare say humans are quite a ways farther,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper.

Jet was still. She gave no outward sign of any sort. There was no evidence that she’d heard what she’d heard, but that didn’t stop her imagination from threatening to run away with her. She could only draw upon science fiction and other speculative fictions for reference, none of which she’d ever taken much interest in before. What did silver mean by ‘farther’? Thomas had called the bat ponies in the painting primitive compared to the ‘enlightened’ Equestrians, but how did that translate? The more she thought, the more she realized a single, incontrovertible truth: not knowing was the worst, possible, thing.

As if remembering who else was with them, Thomas and Silver agreed to change subjects. With the silver mare calmed, they went back to perusing the exhibits in search of inspiration for further conversation. They made small talk and held hands the whole time. They broke for lunch, which Jet insisted on ordering on their behalf. She didn’t test the food for poison, but she did keep an eye on the server for any suspicious behavior. Afterwards, with the museum as explored as it could be, the pair and their shadow walked around the city for a bit before returning to the castle.

“I had a nice night,” Thomas acknowledged. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure was mine.” Silver gave his hand a friendly squeeze before flicking her tail against his rear. “Although I am still bothered that you have left me in your debt.”

“Is it really a big deal?”

“That depends. If I were to, say, lick your left cheek, and draw attention to your right cheek being dry, would that be a big deal?” she asked with a triumphant smirk.

Thomas was fuming at her exploiting his OCD for her own gain. “Okay, fair point.” He looked up and down along the street, surveying the shops in search of an answer. If Silver was suffering an irritant on par with his OCD, then he owed it to his treasured friend to ease her pain. None of the shops struck him as having anything he’d want. He could always lie and let her buy him some useless novelty, but then he’d be the one left irritated with owning a piece of junk he didn’t want and would feel guilty about throwing away.

Sex, as discussed, was also out. Despite seeming like the easiest solution, a thing he could ask for and not regret; although he doubted Silver would accept that. He’d already foolishly reasoned with her how there was nothing he could ask for that they wouldn’t do anyway. He pursed his lips, irked by this conundrum.

“Is there a service you can provide?” asked Jet, startling the others with her words. “My apologies for interrupting, but if a gift is proving insufficient, then perhaps a service would be more to your liking?”

Silver beamed. “Yes. Yes, that could work.” She turned to bodily face her companion. “Well? Is there anything I might do for you?” Feeling playful, she added a flourishing bow and said, “My liege.”

Thomas laughed. He liked the idea in principle, but for the life of him still couldn’t think of anything to ask for. “Sorry, but nothing’s coming to mind.”

Silver’s pout was fierce, demanding, and adorable.

“I mean it. I think all my creativity was used for writing the other day. Now every time I think of service, I just keep equating it with sex, which is already a no-go. I can’t really think of any stuff I want and…” he trailed off in thought. “Honestly, I’m kinda just happy going on a date with someone I love.”

Silver flinched as if struck. “You realize such a heartfelt confession only deepens my guilt, right?”

“I do now, yeah.” His grin was of the highest shit-eating variety.

Frustrated beyond words, tempted to stomp her hoof in another unsightly foalish tantrum, Silver felt like she’d been backed into a corner. So, like any cornered animal that’d run out of options, she lunged for her emotional assailant. An arm was wrapped around his back while the other hung under his chest. Her leathery wings enveloped him in that special way only available to winged creatures, and her head was planted between his neck and shoulder. It had been a little nippy tonight, so a shirt blocked her access to his skin, but she didn’t mind too much. He was warm and comfortable to hold. It was nice being able to touch her fingers while hugging somepony for a change, which compelled her to give an extra grateful squeeze.

Thomas, once he realized his opponent’s method of attack, retaliated by resting one hand on the small of her lower back and planting the other on her shoulder. His head rested on top of hers, enabling them to rub cheeks in that disgustingly sweet way monopolized by inconsiderate jerks who wanted to show off that they were dating. Nothing was said for fear of spoiling the moment. Thomas just guided them to a less busy part of the sidewalk until Silver got all the hugging out of her system. She eventually did, and the trip back to the castle was held in comfortable silence.

The first part was written on one of those good days where I was really in the zone. For you faithful subscribers on Patreon, this is the alchemy chapter I had mentioned. For the rest of you, inspiration for this chapter came from a portion in https://www.fimfiction.net/story/378287/eigengrau-zwei-die-welt-ist-grau-geworden where the protagonist takes a moment to consider alchemy and its implications. Ponies are normally pacifists and vegetarians, yet you Elder Scrolls players know that some of the best alchemy ingredients come from living things, and sometimes thinking things. I wanted to explore a little of how my ponies would react to such a premise, as well as posit another reason why Thomas needs to be guarded.

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