Horse People Go Naked
Chapter 135: Chapter 134: Critics in the Box
Previous Chapter Next ChapterOut in the stadium, things were finally getting underway. “Fillies and gentlecolts,” the announcer began. He was a gray pegasus in sunglasses and appeared to be using a cloud as his podium, moving it about with gentle flaps of his wings. “Please rise and join me in welcoming our beloved Princesses Celestia and Luna!”
On cue, the two alicorns descended down from a cloud they’d been hiding behind. Both wore classy dresses matching their preferred color schemes and were each accompanied by a pair of their personal guards. They waved graciously to the cheering crowds as their wings helped them elegantly glide down to their private box. Said box had elaborate carvings etched all around it, mirroring some of the historical events depicted back in the museum. Once seated, they continued waving gently in acknowledgment of their adoring fans.
The crowd was in an uproar, everyone seemingly in a competition to out-scream the others’ adoration for the alicorns. Thomas took this all in with a grin. Though they were far apart, he tried to get a look at Luna’s face. He was sure their eyes had locked, if only for a second, and he swore he felt the appreciation she was exuding for all the love being sent her way.
Other ponies also sat in the extra super- duper private box. There was Silver, of course, and one of Celestia’s concubines that Thomas recognized but couldn’t name. Additionally, there were a number of other VIPs present. Before their departure, Luna had explained that these VIPs were not merely the elites among elites, or even ponies who had won their seats in a lottery. Such arrangements were common, but not this time. To sit beside a Princess during extended public events like these was not a privilege one could simply buy. Instead, one had to both hold the Princesses’ trust and have a proper sense of discretion.
As such, it was unlikely for ponies like Surprise ever to be the concubine on duty for such events. Likewise, the odds of most of the Mane Six being invited as guests were slim. The Princesses had needs, one of which being the ability to satisfy those needs without drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. Imagining the different sorts of commotion the Mane Six might cause if they were ever invited, Thomas chuckled.
The announcer went on. “Please welcome our celebrity judges for the Best Young Flyers Competition: The Wonderbolts!”
Six ponies dressed in Wonderbolt uniforms flew out over the stadium. They were color-coordinated with warm-colored manes on one side and cool-colored manes on the other. Trails of smoke extended behind them, making them look like jet fighters and giving the illusion that they were moving much faster than they were. The six flew about, altering their formation with perfect timing to perform some rather impressive feats. It all ended when the six flew in tight, looking like they were about to collide, only to split apart just as a colorful explosion burst from the center of their formation. That got the audience fired up something fierce. Three of the six flew off to parts unseen while the remaining Wonderbolts took their seats in what was presumably the judges’ box.
“And now,” the announcer continued, “let’s find out who will take the prize as this year’s Best Young Flyer!”
Finally sensing an appropriate pause, Thomas turned to Moonlight. “Do they just carry fireworks with them for stuff like this? I don’t think suits like that generally have pockets, do they?” He wasn’t much of an expert in aeronautics, but it seemed like pockets would create a lot of drag and compromise speed.
“Actually, no,” Twilight answered instead. “The key is the suits, themselves. You see, the Wonderbolt uniforms were originally designed as specialized combat gear. Using the friction of high speeds, they’re able to—”
“Borrr-iiing!” Talon interrupted. “No one’s here for a science lesson, Sparkle-butt. Just enjoy the spectacle.”
“I kinda want to know, too,” Pinkie chirped. “Something like that would really compliment my party cannon.”
“Yeah, me too. Think they make those suits in my size?” Surprise asked, gesturing down at her body. “Being able to make fireworks whenever I want would be so much fun.”
“I know, right,” Pinkie agreed.
Thomas chuckled at the pink and white pair, still doing their strange double act. Whether it was intentional or not was hard to say, especially given how these mares usually acted. Still, from a distance, Pinkie wasn’t so bad. She’d caught him staring a couple of times, making him look away. Each time made her just a little sadder, but Surprise was always there to perk her back up.
The first competitor flew out. Thomas didn’t know the names of the tricks being performed, but got the feeling that they weren’t terribly impressive. The stands were still talking. There wasn’t that tension of waiting for the ball to be hit as he’d experienced in other sports games. Ponies kept their volumes respectfully low, but no one seemed all that concerned about potentially breaking someone’s concentration or anything of the like. Thus in Thomas’ box, the chatter continued.
“Baltimare, huh?” AJ asked. She and Honey weren’t identical, but there were some hard-to-ignore similarities.
“Born ‘n’ raised,” Honey boasted. “We moved out to Canterlot when… Well, there’s no dancin’ around it. Ah got a hankerin’ in mah loins that only a Princess could make right.”
AJ giggled appreciatively for her fellow earth mare’s accent. “Ah’ve only ever gotten hankerin’s fer apple pie ‘n’ the like. What’s it like havin’ an itch that only a Princess can scratch?”
“Oh, crazy. There’s this need deep down in yer gut. Jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout it gets ya all hot ‘n’ bothered. At first, ya don’t really know what’s causin’ it, ‘til one day ya realize the hankerin’ only flares up whenever ya see pictures ‘f her royal moonness.”
“It’s like one of those old schoolyard crushes,” Surprise added, “only with a bit of cutie mark compulsion thrown in the mix.”
“That sounds downright insufferable,” Twilight observed. “How do you deal with it?”
“Bein’ next ta the pony yer fated ta love don’t hurt none.”
“Also eating together, hugging, kissing, using our tails to vie for supremacy,” Surprise listed. “Horn stuff, wing stuff, and what else?” She stroked her imaginary beard. “What else quells the fiery passion that burns deep within the loins of a love-struck mare?”
Spike slapped his hands over his ear flaps. “Why did I let you talk me into coming here?”
Twilight frowned. “You were trying to get out of chores, if I recall.”
“Well, I’m sorry, okay!” The drake turned to look at Thomas. “How do you put up with crazy mares all day?”
Thomas couldn’t help himself. “Oh, hello pot. Name’s kettle. Have we met?”
AJ blinked. “Ah didn’t catch all that, but ya’ll better not be talkin’ ‘bout me behind mah back.”
“Technically, they’re to your side,” Talon explained helpfully. “So no problems there.” Then she looked down at the yellow mare she’d been holding for several minutes now. “You’ve been awful quiet, Flutters,” she cooed, teasing the mare’s ear with her beak. “Makes me wonder if you’ve got something to say, but are just holding it in.” She made an avian coo, like a dove, causing the yellow mare to shudder. “Got something to say?”
This was probably more wrong than it felt. Watching the ‘innocent’ member of the Mane Six being teased by the more sexually aggressive griffon really ought to have set off some kind of red flag for Thomas. None of the other ponies from Ponyville seemed to mind, presumably because they were used to such displays. Talon never was the sort to keep her talons to herself, though it was somewhat jarring to think about Fluttershy willingly subjecting herself to this on a regular basis. Talon might be aggressive, but she knew when the squeamish types were being pushed too far, which meant that Fluttershy was more than likely into it. Thomas thought about what the wren must have subjected these mares to in order to make them numb to such things. At the moment, he was suffering from his train of thought coming to a screeching halt as he pondered in regards to what were acceptable public displays of affection for ponies. Still, just to be on the safe side, he covertly crossed his legs and hoped no one would notice.
“W-well,” Fluttershy finally spoke up in that perpetual whisper of hers. “M-maybe the way to quell the eep!” She jumped, nearly right out of her seat. No one saw what had happened, but Talon was clearly the guilty party. “The hankering,” she blurted hurriedly. This needed to be said before another surprise pinch could be administered. “She, um, j-just needs to, um…”
Talon then whispered in the butter-yellow mare’s ear. Even as close as they all were, the ambient sound of the crowd’s voices was enough to drown out her words.
*Pomf*
“Ow!”
That was the sound of Surprise getting a wing boner and smacking Pinkie upside the head.
Despite also having a winged mare’s ears, Jet was reciting multiplication tables under her breath, allowing her to maintain her dignity despite hearing such shamefully lewd suggestions in public.
Fluttershy’s fidgeting ceased. She grew calm, serene, almost as though she’d attained some great enlightenment. A grateful smile was given to Talon before her attention returned to the attentive audience. “I was just going to say that sex seems like the best way to scratch that itch,” she said without a hint of hesitation. And she turned back to Talon. “That’s a promise, right?”
Triumphantly smirking, the wren pressed her beak to the pegasi’s snoot. “Just try and stop me.” And they shared a giggle.
Spike shook his head. “I don’t know, and I don’t wanna know.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely too young for that kind of stuff,” Surprise agreed. Then she looked over at Thomas. “Probably you, too.”
“Hold on,” Honey cut in. “You sayin’ that after all the crazy stuff we’ve been doin’ together, this is where you draw the line?”
Surprise nodded, and the box went deathly silent. Even those not in the harem had a rough grasp of what went on behind closed doors. It was the theoretical understanding that there were exotic acts so rare and unusual that one might have to pillage old tombs just for a clue. These were the sort of things that were supposedly common in the harem, and yet this concubine had just declared that whatever she’d just heard sounded extraordinary. Talon had said this thing, and Fluttershy had somehow been comforted by it. With this in mind, it was little wonder that the rest of the box’s occupants decided to give the kinky pair their space.
“Anyway,” Twilight spoke up, trying to put her imagination to rest. “About the uniforms. Pegasus magic is like earth pony magic in that it’s mostly passive, but focused through a channel like unicorn magic. In this case, pegasus wings actually enable them to move at speeds that would normally be impossible thanks to air friction. The uniforms are designed to basically catch the friction as it’s magically discarded and store it. If I recall correctly from my research—”
“Which she definitely will,” Spike cut in, much to Twilight’s annoyance. She shot him a raspberry, and he retaliated with equal maturity.
“There are actually triggers sewn into the suit, allowing the wearers to focus the accumulated friction into different storage pouches, which can be specialized for different functions. An explosion equivalent to fireworks is pretty standard, but in the olden days, they were weaponized to do all sorts of things.”
“Like flinging at your enemy,” Talon chimed in. “Last thing you want is to be hit by a burst of concentrated air friction. Wing magic can’t compensate and, well, let’s just say it’s not a pretty sight.”
“Even less pretty if the suits aren’t up to quality,” informed Surprise. “I wasn’t there at the time, but a buddy in the guard reserves once told me about some counterfeit Wonderbolt suits some crooks were trying to sell. When the bust went down, and guards stormed in, one of the crooks had the bright idea to use one of the phony suits to try and fight back. She wasn’t too bright, but that’s probably what saved her. See, you need to do, like, a lot of high-speed flying to build up enough of a charge to do anything useful. She forgot that part. So when the suit’s cheap parts broke down, and the blast ricocheted back at her, it only caused minor damage.”
“I heard about that,” whispered Fluttershy. “Ponies said she was lucky her wings weren’t,” she hesitated, “torn off.” All winged ponies in the box squirmed, as did many of the wingless ones in sympathetic pain.
“So where’s Rarity, anyway?” Talon asked, her avian head swiveling around.
Twilight gave a guilty laugh. “She’s, uh, actually competing.”
“What, really? I thought she was a unicorn.”
Pinkie giggle snorted. “Hehe-haha. When we decided to come up here to cheer Rainbow, Twilight forgot about the cloud stone for us ground ponies. So she was about to give us all magic wings, but only made it to Rarity before Fluttershy reminded everypony about the,” she bounced in her seat, “you know.”
Twilight groaned, suffering the humiliation of having actually acted on her enthusiasm to practice pegasus-oriented magic.
“Is that legal?” asked Moonlight. “Because it sounds like outside interference.”
“That’s what Ah said, but the mare at sign up didn’t seem ta mind,” agreed AJ.
Then Fluttershy added, “Rarity’s wings look more like butterfly wings than pegasus wings, so it’s pretty obvious that they’re not natural. Not that they don’t look lovely,” she hurriedly amended, looking at Twilight. “I didn’t really understand all that was said. Sports aren’t really my thing. But I think they’re only letting Rarity participate as a courtesy for her being an Element Bearer, so she won’t actually win anything. It’s sad, but I guess it’s fair.”
Talon scowled. “They let a unicorn compete in a pegasus competition, but you guys still got stuck with nosebleed tickets?”
AJ shrugged. “Some things fame can’t fix, as it shouldn’t. When yer late, yer late, ‘n’ that’s jus’ the way it is.”
Several competitors had made their flights in the last few minutes. Some were clearly better than others, and Thomas had a rough idea of which were which. The judges barely moved, saying nothing, and overall giving no indication regarding their opinions on each individual performance. The audience was much more vocal on which flyers they liked. There wasn’t any booing on the disliked ones, but the cheering was a lot quieter. Thomas kept his eyes mainly on the performers, but the bulk of his attention was on his box mates and the things they were saying.
“So what all has been going on in Ponyville?” Moonlight asked. “We read about the big disasters in the papers, but that can’t be all that happens, right?”
“I wouldn’t say we’ve had any big disasters,” Twilight offered. “At least, none recently. Mostly it’s just been regular everyday stuff you do in a small town.”
Moonlight motioned her to go on. “Example?”
“Well, Rarity put on a fashion show for our Gala dresses.”
“I read about that,” Surprise chirped.
“Hey, me too,” agreed Pinkie, looking a bit sheepish. “Hoity Toity said he was convinced that the dresses in the first and second show were made by two totally different ponies, which was kinda right.”
“Kinda?”
“Rarity made the mistake o’ lettin’ a bunch o’ fashion idgets tell her how their dresses should look instead o’ trustin’ her instincts,” AJ explained sternly.
Moonlight puzzled. “Wait. I thought you said they were your dresses.”
“They were,” was AJ’s curt reply. She appeared reluctant to make eye contact. “She won’t be makin’ that mistake again any time soon, Ah’ll betcha.”
“We maaaybe were a little bit micromanaging of Rarity’s work,” Fluttershy elaborated. “I mean, I thought I knew a little about sewing. I knit sweaters for my animals all the time. But I guess I’m not all that literate on styles that other ponies would like.”
“Honestly, that first show was painful to watch.” Spike’s lips were twisting about as he fought against his impending snicker. “Rarity did her best trying to meet the order, but when it came time to actually show them off,” he snorted, “a mare actually ran away screaming.” He slapped both hands over his snoot to muffle his giggles.
“Well, damn,” Talon replied flatly. “I’m sorry I missed that.”
“Were there pictures?” Thomas asked. “A fashion show made for Equestria’s heroes by one of the said heroes. If there was a story in the paper, then surely there were photographers.”
The Mane Six minus two all cringed at that unpleasant reminder.
“Oh-ho ho. This is gonna be good,” Talon chuckled, her nefarious plans set.
Fluttershy squeaked. The butter-yellow mare pressed herself up against the taller griffon, staring up at her with shimmering puppy dog eyes.
Talon flinched as though she’d been struck. “Oh, come on, babe. That just ain’t fair.”
Fluttershy said nothing, merely pressing her attack of cuteness.
“Ugh. Okay, fine! I won’t go snooping for pictures,” harrumphed the big bird lion.
Fluttershy gave another, happier squeak and wrapped her arms around the griffon’s middle, squeezing her with all her might, which was a lot stronger than most might expect.
“‘N’ what about you guys?” AJ fixed her gaze on Thomas, took note of certain changes in Moonlight’s body language, and gave a proud grin. “Any plans on expandin’?”
Thomas didn’t immediately understand what the farmer was talking about, but Moonlight did.
“Not especially. We haven’t really been looking.” Seeing AJ’s disapproving glower, she amended, “We’ll definitely find somepony someday. I really can’t imagine living in a herd of only two indefinitely. But for right now, we’re still pretty content.”
“Well, alright then,” AJ allowed, mollified for now. “Jus’ make sure ya get on that ‘efore the next time ya visit. Else Granny’ll talk yer ear off. Probably try ta set ya’ll up with Apple Bloom while she’s at it.”
“Apple Bloom?” Thomas questioned. “But… does she have her cutie mark yet?” Regardless of age, ponies aren’t considered real adults until they have their cutie marks, right?
“Not yet.” She missed Thomas’ relieved exhale. “She ‘n’ her friends ‘r’ still doin’ their Cutie Mark Crusader thing.”
Pinkie giggle snorted. “Hehe. They’re so funny. They try all these crazy stunts trying to get their cutie marks in, like, everything that’s a verb. Flower watering, hang-gliding, climbing the clock tower, discovering stuff that probably doesn’t exist, showering monkeys, and it almost always ends with them getting all sticky and needing heavy baths afterward.”
“Almost scrubbed Apple Bloom’s fur right off after that time they tried carriage washin’.”
Thomas frowned, writing off Pinkie’s comments as mere coincidence and focusing on AJ. “How do you get dirty washing carriages?”
The apple picker threw up her hands in exasperation. “Ah don’t know! One minute everythin’s fine. Then Ah turned mah back on ‘em fer two minutes – two minutes – ‘n’ the next thing Ah know… Ah still haven’t figured it out.”
Surprise giggled. “Maybe they should try getting their cutie marks in getting dirty.”
With lightning speed, AJ spun around and jabbed a finger right between Surprise’s eyes, fixing her with a menacing glower. “Don’t you go givin’ them ideas!”
“Yeesh. Sorry.”
“I’ve asked Spike to go along with them to try and mitigate the damage,” Twilight interjected. “But all that changed was more fillies and colts coming home with fire singed manes.”
“Hey, I proved to you that wasn’t my fault!” Spike countered. “It was all because of that cabbage cart. You saw it!”
Thomas chuckled, loving this exchange. These were some really great guys, and it was nice to see the two groups getting along so well. Even if he didn’t really feel all that included for not having much to contribute, it was nice to know that he was still welcome.
***
Up in the judge’s box, the Wonderbolts weren’t having such a fun time.
“Not really a good crop this year,” Misty Fly observed. What little of her fur could be seen was a soft yellow, and her two-toned white and arctic blue mane had fluffed itself out now that she was no longer speeding.
“Young flyers,” Soarin reminded. As one of the few male Wonderbolts, he had a tendency to sympathize with the underdogs. His fur was cornflower blue, and his mane, seemingly perpetually blown back, was a dark grayish-blue. “It’s not like we actually came here to recruit.”
“A good thing, too,” replied Spitfire in her scratchy, gravelly voice. She’d paid dearly for a lifetime of yelling at ponies. She didn’t mind, though. In a way, she treated the loss of her once elegant voice as a battle scar, something she’d earned by whipping ponies into shape, and therefore something to be proud of. Her fiery orange and yellow mane had also been permanently pushed back thanks to a lifetime of high speeds. “The average Wonderbolt washouts would put most of these ponies to shame.”
“I think there ought to be some kind of vetting process for contests like these,” Misty added. “The Young Flyers is a time-honored pegasus tradition for the up-and-coming to show their stuff. The flipping Princesses are here!” She gestured. “Ponies ought to at least pass some basic tests before they can compete, like racing.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Spitfire agreed.
“You guys are being unfair. Hey, like that last mare. The purple one with the black mane. She pulled off a barrel roll for a solid three minutes while navigating through most of the rings. That’s pretty impressive.”
“Most? Try less than half.”
“Is that so, Dizzy Spew,” Soarin teased. “Think you can do better?”
Misty fumed at the reminder of her nickname, but elected to keep silent.
Satisfied, Soarin turned to Spitfire. “I heard we got two of the Element Bearers competing this year. That should be interesting.”
“Isn’t one of them, like, a unicorn they’re only humoring ‘cause she’s famous?”
“Yeah, but Rainbow Dash should prove promising. I live in Ponyville, so I’ve seen her fly. She’s got quite the natural talent.”
“Didn’t you say she’s the mare that’s always napping?” Spitfire asked. “Nothing kills talent quite like poor discipline.”
“Well, yeah. Kind of.” Soaring sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “But I know for a fact she’s been training her flanks off for today. I’m sure she’ll give us a show to remember.”
“That’s what has me worried.”
Misty lifted her goggles to fix a quizzical stare on her superior. “Ma’am?”
“You saw the patrols they have below the stadium. More than twice what they usually have for a royal appearance. And most are positioned way, way down, like, almost ground level.”
“I actually spoke to one of the city guards about that.”
The mares turned to face Soarin. “And?”
“Well, she seemed just as confused. Normally, there’d be lifeguards just below the cloud level to catch anypony that gets injured and falls. But this time, it’s like they’re working with backward logic. Now the lifeguards at higher elevation are actually stationed pretty far from the stadium’s opening, but those directly beneath are, like you said, practically at ground level.”
“They’ve set up a cone instead of a proper net,” Spitfire concluded. “But why?”
“Get this,” Soarin added, now in a conspiratorial whisper. “The guard I spoke to. She didn’t have any proof, but there’s a rumor going around that the order came straight from the very top.” And he gestured at the royal box.
Spitfire snapped her head around, staring intently through her goggles at the ‘very top.’ “What are you planning?” she mumbled.
“Could this be Princess Luna’s doing?” Misty posited. “She’s still kind of new, hasn’t really done that much. Maybe she’s trying to bring back some ancient tradition to prove she’s relevant or something?”
“She definitely has that authority,” Spitfire agreed. “But I’m not so sure. If that was the point, you’d think she’d make a big show about it. ‘I’m doing this thing, and you’ll all love me for it,’” she said in mock imitation. “Instead, they’re being all hush-hush about it.”
“It could be the Elements,” Soarin offered. “Princess Celestia sees the future, you know. Maybe something’s supposed to happen involving the Elements, so the patrols had to be changed.”
Misty turned up her nose indignantly. “If that’s the case, if they’re trying to make sure something happens, or even stop something from happening – however future telling works – then wouldn’t we be let in on things? I mean,” she scoffed, “we’re the bucking Wonderbolts. We’re just as important as any old Elements.”
“If we weren’t told, then it’s because we weren’t supposed to know,” Spitfire realized. “If you’re right, and this is because of an Oracle prediction, then it’s probably dangerous for us to speculate. If we weren’t told, it’s because we’re supposed to act as if we don’t know, which is exactly what you’re ordered to do. Stop thinking about it, and whatever happens, just try to act like you normally would.”
“Uh, okay?” Soarin replied hesitantly. “Um, how do I do that?”
“For you, that’s easy. Just act like an overly sentimental ditz, and you’ll do great,” Misty answered, ever the helpful one.
Soarin’ had had quite enough. He turned away and folded his arms over his chest with the huffiest of huffs. “If that’s how you’re going to be, then fine.”
Misty didn’t like the sound of that. Had she gone too far? “Hey, big lug. Don’t be like that.”
“No. Nuh-uh. Nope. Until you start treating me better, I think I’ll just sleep in my own bed for a while.”
No one could see it behind her goggles, but Misty’s pupils narrowed to the size of pinpricks. “Wha-what? Y-you can’t be serious.”
Soarin stared at her out of the corner of his goggles and shot a devilish half-smirk. “Wanna bet?”
Spitfire did her best to tune out the quarreling couple. None of this surprised her. With how the Wonderbolts were stationed, many were required to spend weeks, or even months away from their families. It was only natural that half of them would end up sleeping with the other half. Sometimes the stallions would take advantage of their status as ‘hot commodities’ and leverage for favors. It was fine, so long as nothing got too outrageous, although it was rare for the ordinarily good-natured Soarin to do so. In a way, Spitfire was a little disappointed that he’d stoop so low.
However, the Captain of the Wonderbolts was too busy breaking her own rule to think about her regiment’s culture. She thought about the cone-shaped patrols. A net would catch anypony that fell almost instantly, but a cone increased the distance between the lifeguards and fallers by a significant margin. As Soarin said, it was operating on backward logic, deliberately allowing anypony that fell to drop a significant distance before they could be caught. Was that the point? Was somepony supposed to fall and have to wait to be saved?
The idea of the Princesses putting their subjects in needless danger like that didn’t sit well with Spitfire. That wasn’t how the Princesses operated, or at least, that wasn’t how Princess Celestia operated. Luna was still an unknown and left much of the military hesitant. But Princess Celestia always had a reason. Even if that reason wasn’t immediately apparent, she was a wise enough ruler to always have something planned; or so the general mindset of the masses believed.
No matter the case, Spitfire considered herself to be a loyal officer of the military. It was her sworn duty to follow orders and trust in her superiors. And, as a loyal soldier, she signaled one of the security agents to come over. To him, she wrote down a missive and asked that it be brought to the officer in charge of the stadium’s security. In it, she expressed her concerns with this abnormal and unexplained change in procedure. She also expressed her concerns that this might be the result of an Oracle’s prediction and that she wasn’t properly briefed beforehand. She requested either a meeting with the head of security, or a response offering reasonable assurance that there was a method to this madness.
***
Up in the royal box, the Princesses and those they trusted were not sipping exotic tea, nor were they laughing haughtily at something they knew not to be funny. And between the lot of them, only one pony actually wore a monocle.
“I say. That mare has quite the stunning figure,” Fancy pants openly admired. “So regal. So slender.”
Beside him, a regal-looking slender mare with white fur and a pink mane rolled her eyes. “You do have a type, don’t you?”
Fancy Pants’ eyebrow made an impressive climb up his forehead as he regarded Fleur de Lis. “Obviously.”
“I can’t believe you convinced me to come here,” grumbled a tan mare. Although it wasn’t immediately apparent by the maroon cloak concealing her back and most of her body, she was a pegasus. Her black and gray mane was also hidden beneath her bonnet. In contrast to most ponies, her most distinctive features were her clothes, rather than her cutie mark, tribe, or anything else typically Equestrian. Yet despite this, AK Yearling was still recognizable to any who took more than a second to look. “I should be doing research for my next book.”
“Research? Hah!” scoffed Blue Blood. “The last time you did ‘research,’” he said with air quotes, “you were hospitalized for nearly a month.”
Yearling snorted. “How I conduct my studies is no pony’s business but my own.”
“Have you given any thought to my offer?” asked Celestia. “I have plenty of candidates who are more than up to the task. Not to mention,” she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, paying little mind to how loud she actually was, “plenty of handsome stallions.”
Yearling rolled her eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. The last time I took on an apprentice, he betrayed me to Caballeron.”
“Oh, yes. Quite the tragedy that one,” Blue Blood sighed despondently. “Oh, not the betrayal. The fact that you left out the juicy part from your book.” If his smile were any slimier, it would have slipped right off his face. “Like how you found the pair of them in bed.”
“I will throw you over the edge, Blue Balls!” Yearling snapped, standing to her full height and nearly forgetting to keep her cloak closed. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Blue Blood merely laughed and stared back at her with his most insufferable of smirks. “Whenever is convenient for you; I’ll happily ‘throw down,’ if you know what I mean.”
Yearling was growling, motioning that she very much wanted to strangle the life out of the stallion. It took three other ponies to hold her back.
Luna turned a questioning look to her sister. “I was led to believe that there was an expectation of etiquette to sit by our royal sides.”
“Oh, there is. There absolutely is,” confirmed Celestia. “It’s just not as, well, strict as I might have let on.”
“Trust me, Your Highness,” Night Light said to the smaller Princess. “As far as royal box sittings go, this here is pretty tame so far.”
“And ponies say diamond dogs are crazy,” remarked the one diamond dog in the box. She was remarkably well-mannered for a bitch, and smartly dressed in a cyan blouse that complimented her beige fur rather well.
Luna’s scowl deepened as she faced the ensuing kerfuffle. Blue Blood had lifted his tail and waved it invitingly towards Yearling, enraging her further. This was followed by Twilight Velvet pulling the stallion into a chokehold and threatening to spank him. She was promptly shouted down by most of the box sitters, reminding her that Blue Blood would only take such repercussions as encouragement. He did.
“Why is everypony so loud?” Silver asked. “Is something happening out there?”
Trying to be discrete, Luna stuck a thumb down the v-neck of her dress, which fell well below the breast line. She pulled the dress out a short way and beheld the face of Silver. Luna’s magic made sure that there was no evidence of an entire other mare hiding beneath her dress, though everypony present had already guessed as much. The bat mare was panting heavily, not from heat, but overexertion. Once the little mare had taken her ‘seat,’ she’d acted much the same as a foal in the candy store. It was a testament to Luna’s training in the art of the poker face that no pony outside this box had any idea what was happening.
“Just the Crowns’ inner circle behaving like a bunch of ruffians who’ve had too much to drink.”
Silver giggled. “Shame. I almost wish I could see that.” She then extracted a water bottle from parts unseen and downed almost half of it in just a few seconds. “Ahh. That’s better. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe there are places that I have tragically neglected.” Her intent stated, she shimmied away and disappeared down into the fabric of the dress.
Celestia giggled. “Does she really not want to come out?”
Luna gave a despondent sigh, though her sister could tell what her true feelings were. “‘Tis as though I am enabling an addiction.” She then gave an almost-squeak when Silver reached her target, making her sister giggle again.
“Perhaps what she needs is somepony to help her control herself. If you’d like, during the next event, perhaps I could make myself,” she trailed off for an all too long pause, “scarce,” she finished with a surprisingly flamboyant eyebrow wiggle.
Luna had no idea how eyebrows could wiggle flamboyantly, but it was the first thing she thought of as she beheld the grand spectacle.