Knowing that Fine is guaranteed to read this later, I must confess that I have always loved him. He changed my life in ways I cannot describe, and the only pony who could possibly share the sentiment is Octavia. The moment he first laid eyes on me, I was smitten. It was one of the most memorable moments of my life.

But, speaking strictly in terms of being memorable, that was nothing compared to the second time I met him. Those three months in the Canterlot dungeons will haunt me forever. It was then that I realized my infatuation with the stallion would take me places most sane ponies don’t want to go. I was terrified the entire time.

Yet I was also indebted.

I hate Celestia perhaps as much as Fine does, but I must also appreciate her. Had she not sought the path she had to ensure Fine’s suffering, I would not be where I am today. If she only ever did one thing right by me, it was that, even though her intentions were cruel. Now I sit here, writing in the forty-eighth Book of Shadows as a leading member of the most powerful clandestine organization in the world. Ponies live or die by my word, and the only ones who can stop me are Fine and Celestia. I have access to whatever I want, however and whenever I want it. By all rights, I’m living the high life of power and wealth.

None of this would have come to be without Fine. I owe him everything, from my power to my very life.

I would happily sacrifice it all if I could just give him what he wants.

—Fleur de Lis, Book of Shadows XLVIII,

May 16, 1007

Snow drifted in lazy waves outside the window, but Fleur hardly noticed. Her attention was set upon the scroll in front of her, a quill scratching her solution in careful, elegant script. Four different books were spread out on her desk, and two scrolls rested on a chair to her left. A tight fit, but she made it work. The scrolls contained complex magical formulae centered around the efficiency of gem batteries, whereas the books focused largely on the intricate workings of illusion magic. Her eyes drifted from one source to another, her horn flaring every now and then to turn a page.

The only other sound was that of her roommate, a filly who was a year ahead of her in classes named Sliver Bright.

Equestrians had weird names.

Out of the corner of her eye, Fleur noted the bright red dress Sliver had slipped on. She looked alright, but Fleur wouldn’t say so out loud.

Sliver turned to her, the skirt of her dress swaying to her motions. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out? I mean, it’s Hearth’s Warming Eve.”

Fleur’s reply was a crisp “No.” She didn’t so much as glance up from her work. “I have too much to do. You know sat.”

She could almost feel Sliver’s eyes rolling. “More work? Fleur, you went from being epic-ally behind to a year ahead of everypony your age in just two years. Don’t you think you deserve a break, even for one night?”

A pause.

A look out the window.

Even with the cloud cover, Canterlot shined brightly in the fading daylight. The city was everything she’d imagined it to be as a foal. In some ways, it was better. In other ways, it was so much worse. All across the city, unicorns would be going out to party and celebrate the anniversary of Equestria’s founding. Surely there would be plenty of fun available for her to enjoy.

And somewhere in the depths, earth ponies and pegasi were packed together in the crystal slums, hungry and weary. Were they celebrating in their own way, or was Hearth’s Warming just another day to them?

When Fleur closed her eyes, she remembered a small closet under the stairs, and the chill winds that always invaded during the frigid winter nights. Supposedly the caverns beneath the city were quite warm, but how was she to know for certain? Fleur knew that could just have been a lie to make her feel more comfortable about the whole thing. All she could think of was what it might be like for that freezing closet to be multiplied a hundredfold.

Would Fine Crime approve if she went out with Sliver? She had no way to know, but she wanted him to be a good stallion, and if he was a good stallion…

“No.” She turned back to her books. “Forgive me, Sliver, but I von’t be going out tonight.”

Sliver stuck her tongue out, but quickly retracted it when Fleur shot her a dull frown. “Seriously, Fleur, you are so boring. There’s more to life than studying, y’know. What’s the point of getting a cutie mark in being charming if you aren’t going to use it?" when Fleur didn't answer, she added, "You’re never going to get a coltfriend if you never get out.”

Fleur’s cheeks flushed at the suggestion, and she promptly turned away. “I’m not interested in that.”

Her roommate’s tone turned wry. “Oh, yes you are. Don’t think I can’t hear you mumbling his name in your sleep. He must be mighty fine if he’s managed to catch even your eye.”

Fleur’s entire body went tense, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes were set upon the scroll before her, but in her mind she only saw him. His smile, his commanding presence, his strange kindness… his backside as he walked away. Leaving her alone again when all she wanted… all she needed…

“Oooh, I got you, didn’t I?” Sliver giggled and pranced closer. “So, what’s he like, huh? This mystery stallion you’re so—”

Something hot coursed through Fleur’s brain. She turned on her roommate, lips peeled back and eyes shining with dark promise. “Do not ever, ever speak of him.”

“Whoa!” Sliver fell back, her hooves raised as if to ward off a blow. “Easy, girl! Where did that come from? I was only teasing.”

Just as quickly as it had come, the fire in Fleur’s heart faded and she slumped over her desk. Even after all this time, the wound of being left behind felt so horribly fresh. “Sat topic not open for discussion. Go to party, Sliver, and leave me to vork.”

But Sliver did no such thing. “Are you sure? I mean, I thought he was a crush, but…. Fleur, if you want to talk about it?”

“I do not.” Fleur flipped a page in one of her books, even though she had no idea what she was looking at anymore. “Get out, Sliver. Before I start lecture on se mechanics of gemstone enchanting utilizing principles of—”

“O~kay!” Sliver was halfway to the door, one hoof raised in defeat and an awkward smile on her lips. “Off limits. Gotcha. I won’t bring it up again.” She opened the door, but paused halfway through. Fleur noticed her watching out the corner of her eye and tried not to bristle too much.

“Fleur?”

Repressing a groan, she turned to her roommate.

“If you change your mind, I’ll lend an ear. Okay?”

Fleur’s eyes narrowed as she thought on her response. At last, she gave a firm nod. “I vill… sink on it. I promise nosing.”

She turned back to her work, and after a few awkward seconds the door closed. As soon as it did, Fleur permitted her head to sag. She reached back to rub at her flanks, thinking on what Sliver had said about her cutie mark. It was true, she hardly ever got to make use of it these days… but then, she didn’t need it. Fine Crime wouldn’t be impressed by pretty words, flattery and etiquette.

If she ever saw him again. He said he was from Equestria, but she’d never expected Equestria to be so big.

She shook her head and sat up straight. Setting her shoulders, she attacked her studies with a renewed fervor, the same fervor that had driven her to excel at everything she did. Searching for Fine was out of the question, so she would just have to shine so bright he couldn’t ignore her. She would become the best Gem Master anypony had ever known, and get her Illusions Supremacist robe before she was thirty. He’d have to take notice of her then.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Deep down, she also knew that she actually enjoyed these subjects far more than she’d ever expected. It had started off as tedious and challenging, but after working so hard with her friends back in Grypha, she’d come to relish the difficulty. The thought of overcoming her weaknesses, of being better than what everypony expected of her, of seeing the doubters so startled by her knowledge and abilities…

That made it worth it every time. Nopony would ever look down on her again.

And if Fine Crime happened to recognize her pleas for attention as what they really were, all the better.

Her studying continued in silence as the sun gradually set. Before long, she had lit a few candles to light her workspace. After a time, she went from theory and study to practical application, taking a few emeralds from her storage chest under her bed and lining them up on the window sill. Going back to her notes regularly, she began working her magic on the first one. Her goal was a simple one: storing raw data into the stones. It wasn’t new magic, but it was highly specialized and equally inefficient.

Fleur liked being specialized. She didn’t like being inefficient. She would find a way to do more than what others before her had managed, even if progress proved unpleasantly slow.

“Why gems?”

She blinked, her magical control fluctuating. When she refocused on her work, she saw that she’d applied too much energy; the webline she’d been setting had been ruined. It didn’t doom her experiment, but now she’d have to completely redesign the matrix. With a scowl, she turned to give Sliver a piece of her mind.

Her words died in her throat at the sight of the filly standing at her door. She was shorter than Fleur – most foals her age were – with an amber coat and a mane of reds and yellows. Even knowing this foal was younger than her, Fleur found herself struggling to form words. Excitement brewed with anxiety to leave her fumbling for something, anything to say!

“Um… excuse me?”

Brilliant. Fleur was tempted to bash her stupid skull against the table for that eloquent response. So much for her cutie mark saving the day.

The filly stepped further into the room, curiosity in her gaze. “You specialize in gemcrafting. Why?”

“B-because…” Fleur looked at the gems on her window sill, then back at the filly. Heat came to her cheeks as she realized how monumentally stupid her answer would be. “Because I vanted to be special.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” The filly beamed and trotted forward to gaze at one of the stones so closely her muzzle nearly touched it. “I never worked with gemstones before. I’ve always been better at elemental magic.”

Sunset Shimmer was studying her work. The Sunset Shimmer. Heart hammering, Fleur tried to smile and nod. “So I heard. I… um… I mean… V-vat brings you here, Miss Shimmer?”

Sunset giggled and turned to her. “I’m not a ‘Miss,’ that makes me sound old.” She sat and leaned a little closer, her ears perked and eyes curious. “So. You’re Fleur? I’m in the right room?”

“Yes?” Fleur glanced at the door, wondering how she’d missed its opening. More to the point, how was she supposed to address this pony? She didn’t seem all that mature compared to Fleur, despite being only around a year or two younger. Even so, she was the personal student of Princess Celestia, and Fleur had read the official reports. This filly had enough magic in that little horn to make Fleur’s illusions mere parlor tricks!

And yet, this overpowered unicorn was a filly.

“Is it true you also do illusions?”

Jarred from her mental reasoning, Fleur nodded. “I am. I hope to get Expert License next year.”

Sunset beamed and gave a light bounce. “That’s awesome! I hear it’s real hard for most ponies to master two types of magic.”

Another blink. “But aren’t you studying five?”

An eager nod. “Yep! I wanted to study six, but Celestia says I need to focus on what I’m already doing.” She pouted and kicked at the floor. “Too bad. I wanted to try combining the basic principles of pyromancy and geomancy with intermediate conjuration, but geomancy will have to wait a few years. It stinks big time.”

Fleur grew weak in the knees; she wanted to combine elements from three different schools of magic? And she spoke of it as if it were a simple thing! Fleur abruptly felt so horribly inadequate.

“You alright?” Sunset leaned forward once more. “You’re pale. Well, pale-er.”

“I’m fine,” Fleur managed to mumble. “Um… So. You came here looking for me?”

“Oh, right!” Sunset pronked, grin coming back in full spread. “Princess Celestia asked me to grab you! Er, I mean…” She coughed, tilted her head back to what was probably meant to be a regal pose, and said, “You have been summoned.”

Fleur’s stomach caved in. “S-s-summoned? Me?”

“Summoned. You.” Sunset giggled and gestured to the door. “Right now. She said it’s real important.”

“I… I…” Her throat felt like sandpaper. Fleur had met the princess once, but that was a courtesy greeting, a welcoming to her new home. She’d not so much as seen Celestia since then, and had never expected to. To be summoned out of the blue… “D-did she say vy?”

Sunset sat and tapped her chin, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth as she thought. Then she shrugged. “Nope.”

Fleur rocked on her hooves, feeling light headed. “Okay. I… Okay. Let me just— Am I supposed to bring somesing?”

“I dunno.” Another nonchalant shrug. Sunset trotted to the door, her smile not budging. “Better get going! I bet it’s something cool.”

Though her chest heaved and her mind ran in circles, Fleur managed to pick up her hooves and follow.

As they approached the door to Celestia’s private chambers, Fleur would have given almost anything to have more time to prepare. The frigid walk from the dormitories to the castle hadn’t been anywhere near enough to settle her nerves, even with Sunset’s curiosity-driven questions regarding griffon culture – a topic that had tickled the filly silly when Fleur brought it up. What she'd intended as a minor distraction ended up being the primary topic of conversation the entire walk.

Sunset had no intention of giving Fleur that extra time to prepare, walking between the stoic guards and pushing through the doors without so much as a knock. “We’re here!”

Fleur gaped at the open door, then glanced at the guard on the left. He returned the look, then rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Uh, okay. If… If it’s okay?” She stepped tentatively through, almost certain those spears would be thrust in her path, but they didn’t so much as look at her funny. More than a little flummoxed, Fleur walked through. The doors closed behind her in silence.

She took in what could only be referred to as the height of opulence. Lush purple carpet, beautiful wood furniture, vaulted ceilings, and was that silver framing the pictures on the walls? Her head turned slowly, letting her take in every detail. The white marble walls almost seemed to shine compared to the drab rooms she was accustomed to at the school. To think, when she was a filly she’d lived under some stairs and thought whole, intact walls a luxury! That anypony could live in a place like this…

Sunset, you know you’re supposed to knock.

Fleur whipped around, but saw nopony. That had sounded like the princess, but where was she? And for that matter, where had Sunset gone?

“Sorry, Princess.” Sunset’s abashed voice came from an open door to left. Swallowing, Fleur turned to face the door and sat, making sure to stay as far away from the furniture as possible. Goddess, what would happen to her if she damaged something?

Sunset’s words began to tumble out, all pretense lost. “But I brought Fleur with me, and she’s interesting! She knows so much about griffons, things I never knew before. We talked and talked the whole way over and I learned so much! Now I really wanna go to Grypha and see what Stalliongrad’s like.” Her voice grew louder, and Fleur stiffened. “Oh, oh, do you think the next time you go to Grypha I could come with you? It can be part of my studies! Please, please, please?”

A chiming, playful laugh arose just as Celestia stepped through the door. She was everything Fleur remembered; luxurious white coat with just a hint of pink, that enigmatic and mesmerizing mane, and the perfect definition of grace. Fleur allowed herself only the barest of seconds to take in the sight before planting her muzzle to the floor, her legs trembling. At least she seemed in a good mood. That was good for her, right?

“I don’t know, Sunset. I’ll have to think about it. Now—”

Sunset let out a pitiful whine. “Think about it? That’s as good as a no! Come on, Princess, I’ll be good and study real hard.”

“You already study hard, my wonderful student. Now please—”

“I’ll study even harder! And then maybe you’ll let me study another field of magic. Did you know that Fleur—”

“Sunset?”

There was no bite in Celestia’s tone, but it did hold a certain commanding aspect that made Fleur’s ears fold back.

“Yes, Princess Celestia?”

“I would like to speak with Fleur now, if that’s alright.”

“Oh! Right. Sorry.”

A moment’s pause, perhaps to see if Sunset wouldn’t speak up anyway. Fleur thought she might be sweating.

“Ah, Miss Purpurnyj. Please, rise. It is good to see you.”

On wobbly legs, Fleur stood as instructed, but kept her head half-bowed and her eyes down to Celestia’s shoulders. “S-se pleasure is all mine, Princess.”

Another pause. Fleur bit her lip and tried to control her shaking.

“Come now, Miss Purpurnyj, there’s no reason to be so docile. Look at me, please.”

Wincing, Fleur let her eyes meet Celestia’s. The princess smiled with a radiance to match the Sun, but the knot in Fleur’s chest refused to untangle. Why was she so… petrified? Some voice in her head screamed at her to bolt, but she didn’t dare act on the instinct.

Celestia set a hoof to her lips, appearing thoughtful, then regained her smile. “I think this setting is a bit too garish, don’t you? Come, let us talk in my study.” She stepped aside and gestured to the door she’d just passed through. Her horn shined, catching Sunset by the tail just as she was about to enter. “I’m sorry, Sunset, but this is going to be a private conversation.”

“What?” Sunset sat and looked between Fleur and the princess with a pout. “But I wanted to learn more about the griffons.”

“You’ll get another chance, I promise.” Celestia raised her head empirically, but her smile grew playful. “Besides, it’s Hearth’s Warming Eve. Didn’t you want to watch the show in the Celestial Theater?”

The pout was erased in an instant, Sunset leaping to her hooves. “Oh, the show! Can I watch from your box this time?” At Celestia’s nod, the filly cheered before raising her hoof in the manner of a general commanding an army. “Right! To the show, for Equestria!” She galloped off, calling back a “Thanks, Princess!” before disappearing through the front door.

Celestia chuckled and shook her head. “She loves the story of Equestria’s unification. Clover the Clever is her hero. Shall we?”

No more distractions, no more time to think. Fleur stared at Celestia’s pointing hoof, then at the door. Swallowing, she walked forward, tail between her legs.

“Oh, I’m not going to eat you, girl.” Celestia giggled and followed her inside. “Please, be at ease.”

Were Fleur not so anxious, she might have been surprised at how the large room she’d entered didn’t seem so lavish as the first one. While the first was heavily decorated and resplendent, this one felt more like a proper living area, complete with a few bookshelves, cushions and a couch facing a grand window. Granted, Fleur imagined that just those gold and white curtains would be beyond affordable for her even if she saved for her entire life, but at least this didn’t feel like it was screaming ‘power’ at her.

Maybe that was the point. Fleur had to admit, she did feel a little less intimidated. She followed Celestia into another door, this one leading to a much smaller room that had wood-paneled walls covered in bookshelves and a large, ornate desk. Celestia gestured for her to take a seat on one of the cushions, which she did, albeit very carefully; those cushions probably cost more than her entire education.

“Can I get you something? Tea, hot chocolate? I have an absolutely delightful batch of cherry-flavored kissel.”

Kissel? Fleur considered the situation, and who she was visiting. Her etiquette and cutie mark both kicked in at the same time, giving her an easy response: “Sat is most gracious. Sank you, Your Majesty. Se kissel sound lovely.” Rejection would be rude, after all.

With a charming smile, Celestia ignited her horn, and a hidden door opened in the wall behind her. White fog rolled into the air as a serving bowl and two smaller bowls floated out. Fleur stared at the door in perplexity until Celestia said, “It’s a refrigerator.”

“Oh. I’ve only known sem to be in restaurants and storage cars.”

As the bowls settled on the desk, Celestia gave a wink. “The perks of being a princess. Tell me, have you tried making one?”

Fleur blinked, then set a hoof to her chin. “I hadn’t even sought of it. I could make proper gems for it vis great ease, but do not know if my sermauturgy is good enough. Still, I can see sere are perks.” Realizing just who she was speaking to, she blushed and lowered her eyes, adding a sheepish, “Princess.”

Celestia shook her head as she spooned some of the red liquid into the smaller bowls. “Now, Miss Purpurnyj, there’s no need for such formality. You may call me Celestia, if I may call you Fleur.”

That seemed entirely inappropriate, but once again, Fleur’s training and social sense kicked in readily. “Of course. Celestia, sen.” If she weren’t so set on making an impression, Fleur would have patted her cutie mark in thanks for the calmness of her tone. She accepted the bowl of kissel with a pleasant smile. “My sanks for your generosity. I’ve never had kissel before.”

“Oh?” Celestia’s eyebrows rose. “And here I thought I would be helping you recall home with this offering. Might there be some other dish you prefer?”

Fleur’s response might have been formed in haste, but it came out smooth and sincere. “Not at all, I am quite happy vith sis. It can be a new experience. Dessert is not somesing I ever have.”

Now the princess cocked her head. “Did you never enjoy sweets back in Grypha?”

The knot was coming back. Fleur resisted touching her stomach and kept her smile pleasant. “Sveets vere available, but not to one so lowly as I.”

“I… see.” Celestia frowned, and for a moment Fleur feared she would dig deeper and ask about Fleur’s past. She undoubtedly knew Fleur came from an orphanage, but if she tried to go beyond that…

But the princess’s smile returned. She raised her small bowl, and after a moment Fleur did the same. “Well then, let us try it, hmm?”

And with that, they drank. The kissel was powerfully sweet, and the cherry flavor far stronger than she anticipated. Maybe a little too strong, and perhaps a little too sweet; Fleur might still be a filly, but she’d learned long ago that her taste buds weren’t so childish. Even so, when the bowl lowered from her face she was all smiles. “Sat vas delightful.”

“Indeed! My world-renowned sweet tooth approves.” Celestia licked her lips in a way that Fleur found unbefitting a princess, but theorized that even princesses could act ‘normal’ every now and then. Perhaps she wanted to put Fleur at ease. In a way, it worked; the anxiety didn’t feel so strong anymore, and the pleasant drink helped her relax.

Celestia took another sip of her kissel as she sat. “Now, Fleur. I know it might not have seemed like it, but I have been keeping a close watch on your progress over the past two years. I must say, I am very impressed. At the pace you have set, you’ll be a master of gemcrafting and illusions both within the next five years.”

Fleur’s smile, once a mask, now became far more sincere. “I did not realize I varranted such attention. After all, Sunset is younger san me, and she is vorking to master five magical fields. I do not believe I am even remotely qualified for such praise in comparison.”

Yes, a little modesty never hurt, no matter how proud she was on the inside.

Celestia shook her head. “Sunset needs to learn focus. By aiming her attention in so many directions at once, she fails to master anything. At the rate she is going, she will not advance beyond the intermediate level in any of her chosen fields. I did permit her to choose her own path, though, so that may be my own fault.”

“But even so,” Fleur replied with no small interest, “five magical fields at once! Most ponies struggle to reach beginner level beyond one field.”

“And you are set to master two of them.” Celestia’s smile only grew. “Do not doubt your own achievements, Fleur. You are a pony who will go places.”

Fleur’s blush had her staring into her bowl. “Y-you’re too kind. I don’t even know vere I vant to go.”

She blinked; did she really say that out loud? She raised her bowl to her lips.

“Hmm…” Celestia took another sip of her kissel. Her eyes, still set upon her guest, narrowed. “Could that be because you do not know where he is?”

Fleur almost dropped her drink, her response coming in sputters and coughs. She set the bowl down quickly and beat on her chest a few times, fire burning in her throat. At last she recovered, only to gape up at Celestia. “H-h-him?”

The princess’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “One Fine Crime, yes?”

Heart leaping into her throat, Fleur leaned against the desk. “You know? How do… Vere? You know vere Fine is? Please, I must know!”

The smile turned predatory.

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Fleur’s emotions were, for lack of a better phrase, all over the place. Uncertainty, fear, hope, compassion, disgust, anger, it all flooded over her.

On the one hoof, her new room had everything she could possibly want. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, filled with all the magical tomes she could possibly want in her study of gems and illusion. A workbench covered half of a third wall. Her new bed was large enough to fit four Fleurs with room to spare, and she found out last night that it was by far the most comfortable thing she’d ever enjoyed sleeping in. In the center of the room was a U-shaped desk so big it might as well have been three, with all the room she could possibly want for her work and a wide, plush cushion in the middle of it all. A chest by the door held so many gemstones it made her little box under her old bed seem pathetic. Just outside, she knew there was a kitchen where she could make whatever she wanted with the ingredients given, and those ingredients appeared to be the best Canterlot could offer.

And it was a dungeon.

The bookshelves and workbench did nothing to hide the solid stone walls made almost black from age and stains. Not a single window graced her presence, and all light had to be produced by strategically placed torches. The door – her door – was a metal monstrosity with only a small opening at the bottom, presumably for food and water to be passed through. The hard stone floor was stained with things she had no interest in contemplating, and above the workbench hung rusty shackles that had been carelessly left behind by whomever had been instructed to put the room together for her.

Or maybe it wasn’t a case of carelessness. Fleur shuddered and turned away from the sight, pushing away any wayward thoughts regarding the things that may have gone on down here.

She sat on the cushion, which rivaled the bed for pure comfort, and wrapped her forelegs around herself. Part of her knew she was being treated luxuriously, but she couldn’t escape the thought that she was being placed under the stairs again. Cold air filled the dungeon, and she could swear she felt the wind creeping through cracks in the solid walls.

But the door was open. She was free to walk around and do as she pleased, within limitations. Three months, Celestia had told her. Three months of… this. One half living like a princess, one half as a prisoner.

She could do this. Her underlying goal was just within reach, and all she had to do was save a life. The most important life: his. If she could do that, what wonders would be in store for her future? Her life might finally be where she’d always wanted it to be.

So she could do this. Three months. What was three months compared to a lifetime?

“It’s time.”

Her heart climbed into her throat and remained there. She turned to find one of Celestia’s straight-faced guards at the door, watching her with cool disinterest.

This was it, the moment she’d waited three years for. Her hooves trembled as she slipped off the cushion and made for the door. Would he remember her? Would he be happy to see her? Celestia said his mind was troubled. Maybe he wouldn’t even recognize her. Perhaps he’d be angry. He had left her behind, hadn’t he? Or maybe this was all some cruel joke. Celestia wasn’t the type to do something like that, was she? No, surely not. She felt guilty for even thinking something so mean of Equestria’s shining light.

The guard walked her through the hallway, past the doors leading to the kitchen and the bathroom, and by the old passageway that had been bricked off sometime in the past. Another hallway appeared to the right, leading to a second metal door that remained closed; the exit.

Then, there was the last door. This one had no windows, and the metal appeared sturdier than the others. It was opened wide, and Fleur could just make out the form of Celestia within. The alicorn turned to the door at the sound of their hoofsteps, offering a beaming smile. It probably should have filled Fleur with hope, but all she could feel was her heart refusing to go back down to her chest and her insides churning.

This was it.

Oh, Goddess, this was it.

She stood at the door, entire body shaking. The room seemed so… dark. She could hear something back there. Rattling chains. Was it really that bad? She closed her eyes and recalled the first time she’d seen him. She could still hear the sound of her brother’s neck being shattered by his own horn.

Yes. Yes, she knew it could be that bad.

Swallowing to moisten her throat, Fleur opened her eyes and willed movement from her legs. What she saw was enough to finally dislodge her heart from her throat, only to send it crashing to the bottom of her hooves.

Shackles held each of his legs to the floor. One massive, oversized manacle clasped tightly his barrel. A bulky work collar rested upon his shoulders, and a bearing rein was attached to stuff a rubber bit into his mouth. The design prevented him from bending his neck below the shoulders or moving his head left or right. Set upon his horn was a small, innocuous ring, but Fleur had studied magic long enough to recognize that there was nothing innocent about an inhibitor. He lay on his barrel, body raised slightly off the floor thanks to the giant shackle around his midsection. Sweat beaded upon his brow and his eyes were wide with uncertainty.

Fleur had thought she’d at least be re-introduced to him before he was restrained, and even then, she hadn’t expected this. He studied her as if she were an oddity, making no attempt to speak around the large piece of rubber between his teeth. He looked like… like a frightened animal. A small voice screamed in the back of Fleur's mind, demanding she be afraid, but pity overwhelmed that instinct.

She flinched as Celestia’s hooves rested on her shoulders. “Do you recognize her, Fine?”

He could hardly move his neck, but she recognized his attempt to shake his head. The motion struck her like a knife to the heart, and she sank to her knees. So, she didn’t even warrant his recollection. After all this time, everything that she’d been hoping. Had he no idea just what he’d done for her? Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back; Fine wouldn’t be impressed by a sobbing child!

“Tell him your name, child.”

I am not a child!

She felt foalish for even thinking it.

But then, her ears perked. He wasn’t in his right mind, yes? Maybe it was all the stress. Maybe he just needed a reminder. She climbed back to her hooves and looked him in the eye, praying her theory was correct. “My name is Fleur Purpurnyj. You remember me?”

Fine responded with a jerk that probably would have brought him to his hooves if not for the weight of his bindings. He still stood, however, his wide, wild eyes set upon Fleur in open recognition that made her heart flip. Then those same small pupils turned to Celestia. He tried to speak, but could only manage some nonsensical noise. Even so, it sounded…

Fleur shivered; it had sounded like a plea.

“I thought you’d recognize the name,” Celestia purred. She began stroking Fleur’s back, and she relaxed a little under the light touch of the princess. “That was your very first independent mission, wasn’t it? You told Hoofknife you did the job to perfection. Did you really think he’d miss that you let one member of the family live?”

The mission. Her family. It all came back to Fleur, but it was a subdued recollection. She cast it aside; she had no family. The one she’d known could rot in Tartarus.

But Fine…

His hoof reached up, but couldn’t make it to the bit in his mouth. He offered only a feeble struggle before giving in and resorting to that terrible pleading noise. Fleur didn’t blame him for being scared, all things considered. But still, this was Fine, her rescuer and idol; he wasn’t meant to be scared.

Celestia whispered in her ear. “Go to him. Reassure him. Tell him everything will be okay.”

Yes. Yes, she would do that. Fine had taken care of her once, right?

She took a step, and she saw him staring from the darkness.

In another, his knife had been buried in her brother’s stomach.

A third, and he was petting her, comforting her fears.

A fourth, and they were riding in the boat, the ice drifting in the calm waters.

A fifth, and she was laying by his side, comfortable and warm for the first time in her life.

One last shaking step… and he was walking away.

When had she started crying? She shouldn’t be crying. She was supposed to be strong now! He deserved somepony strong. Yet no matter how much she blinked and tried not to think about it, the tears kept flowing. With a weak hiccup, she raised her head.

He stared at her, doe-eyed and as still as a statue. His imploring gaze ate away at her desires, hammering home at last that this would not be the reunion she’d dreamed of.

The words came, unbidden. “I looked for you. I came all vay from Grypha. To s-sank you.” She reached up, touched his neck. It was real. It was real, and before she knew it, she’d wrapped her legs around him in a tight hug. The shakes returned to her body as she buried her face in the hair of his neck. As she relished the knowledge that she wasn’t dreaming, that he was right there for her to touch and see and speak to, her resolve began to grow.

“You saved my life. Now I save yours.”

Fleur was thirteen years old. At her young age, she could easily cast spells most fully grown adults wouldn’t bother to try. She might have been living off the royal teat, so to speak, but she had endeavored to be as independent and proud as she could possibly be under the circumstances. Ever since that day she’d been left behind, she had decided that she would be something better than her past – than her father – had demanded.

But now? Now she felt as useless as ever. Worthless and weak, unable to make anything go right. Her mane and coat were dirty, and she felt so oddly tired. Despite all her aspirations, she couldn’t help but feel like that same fragile, helpless filly who’d slept under the stairs and was never allowed to have lunch.

She sat in the kitchen, carefully cutting up the vegetables and fruits by hoof. She could have used magic, but this gave her time to think. Besides, she was used to cooking with her hooves.

There was a mirror on the far wall. A quick glance confirmed her dirty appearance. Two buckets of steaming hot water, covered in soap bubbles, sat on either side of her. She didn’t dare take advantage of them. She would only be given so much per day, and Fine needed them more than she did. Whatever was left over from his daily cleaning, she would use. Usually, it wasn’t enough for her to do a proper job, hence her current state, but it was better than nothing at all.

Fine needed it. He needed her. This would work, Celestia had said so.

With one last look at the food to make sure it had been diced small enough, Fleur put the knife away and scooped it all into a feeding bag. That done, she lifted a large case filled with a half-dozen white bottles and some thin rags, which she settled onto her back. The two buckets she carried with her magic, while she held the feeding bag with one foreleg via a simple strap. So prepared, Fleur made her way down the hall.

She cast a glance at the exit, half-hoping to see Celestia or one of the guards. No such luck, but maybe later? She hoped somepony would at least tell her how long she’d been down here. She didn’t even know if it was day or night, and Celestia wouldn’t let her out to find out. Her only method of telling time was a small calendar in her room, but her marks on its were little more than wild guesses. She marked it whenever she woke up and hoped that to be a proper indication of the passing days.

With a resigned sigh, she opened the door to the cell. Fine lay as he always did, chin resting on the floor and body as constrained as ever. Fleur hated seeing him like this; the stallion she’d met so long ago didn’t deserve to be caged in like some animal. Still, she tried to keep her smile pleasant. If she were in his horseshoes, she was certain she’d want a caretaker who remained positive.

Setting the buckets and box down, she trotted over to him and set the feed bag before his muzzle. “Dinner time.”

After a groan that made Fleur think of old ponies with complaining bones, he opened his eyes and gradually raised his head. He gave the slightest of jerks to one side, then noticed the feed bag. Seconds passed as he stared at the chopped up food. For all the freshness and variety, one would think he was looking at stale bread and brown grass.

Fleur’s ears folded back at the sight. Why did he keep doing this? “Come, Mr. Crime. Please?”

The stallion looked at her. There was nothing in those eyes, not even sadness. Fleur felt her heart ache for the hundredth time since this task had started, and she could only wonder what had happened to make him so broken on the inside.

At last, he raised his head high in rejection.

She pouted and nudged the food a little closer. “You cannot get better if you do not eat. Do you not vant to be better?” He made no attempt to respond, not even a glance. With a sigh, she lifted the bag in her magic and set it upon his muzzle. Once it was properly attached to his bearing rein, he obediently ate. For that, Fleur was relieved; at least he wasn’t outright fighting her anymore.

He was depressed. Fleur understood that well. She would have to be positive for him, help him through this. With that in mind, she reached up to rub his shoulder in what she hoped would be seen as an encouraging act. “Sere you go. Sat is better, is it not?”

No response, not that she’d expected one. Keeping her smile on, she turned to walk around him, prepared for the next step. What she found was a brown mess, and once again her heart sank. How embarrassing must this be? The first time it had happened had come as a shock, and she’d certainly felt a bit of revulsion at the thought. By now?

“Oh, you have made anoser mess. I apologize, I sought I had timing right by now.”

Pleasant voice. Willingness to help in any way.

Stay positive.

She dragged one of the soap buckets across the floor with her magic, then got to work cleaning his hind legs. She’d have to get rid of the dung on the floor, but that could wait until after, when she had the right tools. She glanced towards Fine’s face, but couldn’t see it at this angle. Oh, please let him be okay with this!

Okay, the icky part was over. Time for the most important step.

“Now, let us take look at you, hmm?” She walked a circuit, examining his bonds at the edges. It had been awkward before, looking so closely at his body. Now she ran her hooves lightly against him, right where the metal met skin. On his right side – the side he had flinched away from – her hoof came up wet and sticky.

Her heart sank at the sight. “Oh, you have bled again. You must not move so much, Mr. Crime, it only makes it vorse.”

He grunted, which she took as acknowledgement. Using the second rag, she began carefully cleaning around his bonds, wiping away any blood that might have accumulated. She tried to be as gentle as possible, knowing that what came next would be the worst part. Once certain he was clean, she set the buckets and rag aside and opened the case with its white bottles. Picking one up and a softer, thin rag, she walked to his side so he could see her.

She raised the bottle and rag and offered an apologetic frown. “Are you ready?”

He eyed the bottle, heaved a deep sigh, and nodded as best he could through the rein’s restrictions. He went stiff, and Fleur hesitated… but shook her head to clear it. This was necessary. He needed to be protected from infection.

She hated this part. If she could have gotten anypony else to do it…

A blue gel oozed out of the bottle onto the rag. Fleur made sure the stuff was well and thoroughly soaked in before stepping up to Fine and setting it on his side via magic. Biting her lip and bracing, she forced the thing beneath the clamp.

Fine jerked, his legs going taut and a snort escaping his nostrils. He groaned as the rag was forced deeper in, until Fleur could no longer see it and had to guide it by magical sense alone. Beneath the metal, the gel was being rubbed into his skin and wounds, sanitizing and providing protection to keep the rashes from getting any worse. It probably took only a minute or so to get the rag through to the front of his body and out in the air, but it felt like hours.

One down, a dozen to go.

Fleur refused to cry. She was hurting him, but it had to happen. She told herself that again and again, even as his groans turned into whines and his breathing grew intense. Just get it over with. That’s all she needed to think about, even as her heart cracked: just get it over with.

At last, she’d managed to apply the blue gel to every part of his shackled form. Fine’s head dropped to the floor, his entire body shaking.

Positive. Stay positive.

“Sere, no infections for today. You vill feel better soon, right?”

Please let him get better soon.

His glower made her fall back and turn her face away. Still, she cast a glance at him. How was she to know?

“I know, it is not easy.” She sighed and sat, shaking her head. “I do not understand vy I do sis. Princess said I vill make you better, but do I?”

Fine closed his eyes and let out a low growl. Her head sunk low once more. If only she could make him understand. She stepped closer, trying to think of what she should do. What would he have done?

Hesitantly, she began stroking his mane. “It is okay. Please, it vill be fine. You vill be better, ve will get out of sis dark place.” Her heart flipped as a thought forced its way out of her mouth. “And sen… sen you can look after me, maybe?”

His eyes rolled up to meet hers, and she quickly turned her head away yet again. Why had she suggested that? Stupid brain. Stupid mouth. Now wasn’t the time. Couldn’t she see how he was hurting? It didn’t matter that she was hurting too; her issues were nothing compared to his.

The chains rattled. With a sudden burst of energy, Fine jerked to his hooves and emitted a growl that was very different from anything she’d heard from him before. She jumped away as he lurched with lips peeled back around the rubber bit and his pupils dilated. He shook and strained against his shackles as if determined to reach her.

Fleur backed away, tail tucked around her flank at this unprecedented outburst. “Mr. Crime, vat is vrong?”

Another lurch, a hiss of pain. Fine’s eyes grew wild, his teeth gnashed his bit. She could see his muscles going taut in their effort to fight the chains. Then, just as suddenly, he began thrashing about, snarling and chomping like a wild animal.

Panic threatened Fleur’s tenuous self control. “Please, stop! You are hurting yourself!” She reached up to grab the sides of his face, struggling to hold him still.

He responded with a roar that, even through the bit, made her ears ring. Pure adrenaline and an unanticipated fear sent her scrambling back to press her side against the wall. Her heart pounded as she stared at this… this thing that was once Fine Crime. His horn glowed dimly, struggling to push some magic past his inhibitor ring, but the effort was for naught.

Fleur pressed a hoof to her chest and focused on controlling her breathing, which came in short gasps. What in Celestia’s name? “V-vat is vrong? Please, Mr. Crime, tell me! I vant to help!”

Just as suddenly, he collapsed. His chin bounced on the floor and he groaned, hooves moving as if to try and cover his head. When that failed he just let them fall, face contorted in pain.

Seconds passed. Fleur slowly began to reclaim her breathing, but her legs shook from a desire to get away. Questions swam through her mind, theories and potential answers and lamentations. Three weeks, Celestia had said. Surely this wasn’t what she’d been referring to? It couldn’t be…

Her ruminations were interrupted by a choked sob. Fine had tears running down his cheeks. His entire body rocked with his weeping.

“It is okay. P-please do not cry.” She hurried to his side and began stroking his mane again. “I vill make you better, Mr. Crime. I vill. It vas just little panic attack. In few moments I get fresh buckets and clean you again.”

A panic attack. Yes, that was it.

It had to be.

A monster. That’s all Fine was now. She stared at him from the doorway, buckets on either side of her and the case on her back. She didn’t shake, didn’t cry, didn’t speak. Only watched.

The pony that was once her idol snarled and snapped and screamed. Tears ran down his face. Blood dripped from the shackles where his skin had torn in the thrashing. He didn’t seem to even notice the damage. Or maybe he did and didn’t care.

On the outside, Fleur was calm. On the inside, she wanted to scream just as much as Fine did.

This should have been a happy reunion. Fine was supposed to recognize her skills and personal growth and take her under his wing. They were supposed to be a family. She was supposed to be loved. This was...

She dropped the case, letting it crash to the floor, then turned away from the snarls and the ever-clinking chains. She walked in the one direction she knew she couldn’t go. It only took a couple steps to reach the exit, and then she sat and stared at it. A simple metal door. An inch of thickness between her and the help she needed.

How long had that door been closed to her? Months? Years?

Stupid. Celestia had said three months. Her calendar… she’d been marking it dutifully when she woke up, but had stopped paying attention to the dates. How was she even to know that her markings were accurate? She could be off by weeks and wouldn’t know.

Her breath fled her lungs at a terrible thought: what if Celestia had forgotten about them?

No. She shook her head forcefully; there were guards. They came by daily to deliver supplies through the little door.

Then… maybe Celestia never intended to let them out. Maybe this was punishment.

Punishment for what?

She closed her eyes and trembled, recalling the sight of her eldest brother on the couch, his face blue and distorted in the pain of death.

That’s right, Fine had come to kill her family. He spared her. Was that why they were trapped down here? Had Celestia decided this was a good way to finish the job and punish Fine at the same time?

That made this her fault. She’d not been able to convince him. He wouldn’t kill her, and now he was…

Her voice came out frail. “H-hello?”

She perked an ear, listening for a response that never came.

“I… I’m sorry.”

A shift of the head. She strained to hear anything at all over Fine’s indecipherable roars. When no sound came back, she moved to the door and pressed against it with both forehooves. It didn’t budge.

“Please. He needs help. I c-can’t…”

Fine let out a piercing scream combining rage with pain. The sound sent a shiver running slowly up her spin, and when it reached the back of her neck she sobbed and kicked at the door.

“Please! I’m not good enough! I can’t do this! Help him, somepony, help him!”

She banged until her hooves were sore. She slammed her shoulder against the metal once, twice, then just pressed her body against it. She ignored the moisture on her cheeks and collapsed to the floor, clawing at the small supply window. Somewhere deep down, her rational mind tried to explain how even her lithe body would never fit through that hole, but she ignored it and kept grabbing at it. She tried her magic, only to see her aura slide around the anti-magic enchantments.

At last, she curled up in the corner and buried her head beneath her hooves and tail. She didn’t think to translate her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. W-was I supposed to die? Is that what you wanted? Would you help him if I did? Please, take me. Do it. I’ll go, just make it stop.”

Time ticked by, or would have had there been something around able to measure it. Fleur cried until she could cry no more, and then just tried to drown out Fine’s shrieks. She closed her eyes and thought of magical theory, of gemstone enchanting, of the orphanage back in Grypha, of her days under her father’s stern gaze. It didn’t matter what she thought about; anything was better than this.

Anything.

At some point, she realized that her small, dark world had gone silent. Sniffling, she raised her head to gaze at the still-open door to Fine’s cell. Not a sound came from there, not even the clinking of chains. Had he fallen asleep? That happened sometimes, usually quite suddenly. It was like his body just shut down, probably due to exhaustion.

Slowly, she stood and made her way to the door, her legs wobbling. Holding her breath lest she wake him, she peered around the doorway with a lone eye.

Fine was awake. He lay with his chin to the floor, as always. Bloodshot eyes gazed out into nothing, drool and blood dripping from between his teeth. For a moment, Fleur panicked at the thought that he might have bit his own tongue. As she quickly drew closer, she saw that the blood was coming from his gums, perhaps from biting down too hard. It looked terrible, so she grabbed a rag from one of the buckets and prepared to clean his face.

He didn’t so much as acknowledge her presence, even when she applied the moist rag to his bleeding mouth. She went through the motions on autopilot, knowing that speaking was pointless.

He went on these quiet spells at times. They were rare, and she had to make use of them whenever she could. Quietly, she went about cleaning his wounds, being careful to ration her water, soap and sanitizing gel, for there was no telling when she would need them again. He could snap at any second, as she’d come to learn.

Why was she still doing this? Because she felt responsible? For all she knew, they’d never be set free. Fine might never be cured, and she’d spend the rest of her days tending to the health of a madcolt. How long before the sheer futility of the practice made her give up? Fine had saved her life. Taking care of him was the least she could do in return. If only there would be some sign, an indication that things would turn out okay. At least then she would be able to hope.

She turned to put the sullied rags into one of the wash buckets, and paused. Fine was watching her with one eye. There was no malice in his gaze, but for once it also didn’t seem lifeless. There was a spark of recognition in that red iris. Recognition… and concern.

For the first time in ages, Fleur allowed herself to hope. “F-Fine? Can you… Can you understand me?”

He only blinked. She took that for a confirmation, forcefully ignoring the potential alternatives, and stepped closer.

“I’m not going anyvere,” she whispered, and she knew it to be true. She’d had a moment of weakness, but seeing his comprehending stare reminded her that all had not been lost. “Ve’ll get srough sis. Togeser. I know it hurts, but I von’t give up. I promise.”

At first, his one-eyed gaze was confused. Then his brow furrowed, his eye closed, and a weak sob sounded from around what remained of his rubber bit.

“It’s okay,” she cooed, petting his head between the ears. “It’s okay. I promise, it’ll be okay.”

A thought occurred to her, and she jumped to her hooves. “V-vat am I doing? Food, you need food, vile you are still calm!” She trotted to the door, wondering how much she could cut up on such short notice. “It’s so much easier ven you are calm, and you really must eat more. Yes, you’ll feel better if I just—”

The growl made her stop at the door. Her ears folded, her head drooped. As the growling rose in volume, she peeked over her shoulder.

Gone was the awareness and misery in Fine’s eyes. The all-too familiar rage and hate replaced them, centered upon her as he chewed at his bit and tensed his legs. When he roared at her, she merely stepped outside and closed the door. Then she walked to her room and buried herself under the dirty covers of her bed. There were no tears, no whining. She didn’t even think. She just stared at the underside of her comforter and listened to the muffled shrieks until darkness overtook her.

She stared at the door to his cell, buckets at her sides. She’d been there for some time, just gazing in thoughtless silence. Not a sound rose from the door. He’d probably passed out again. Not that she cared.

Fleur didn’t care about much of anything.

Yet again, her mind went through the motions, the questions, the doubts. Would anypony know if she just turned away to lay in her room? That would be better than staring at the knives again. In all likelihood, nopony would notice anything that happened in this dungeon. A dungeon she’d never escape, just like the task she could never quit.

For she couldn’t quit. Fleur had no idea why, but no matter how despondent her thoughts, she could not bring herself to cease. Perhaps it was just that she’d grown so used to it. Stopping didn’t seem… natural. So, though she had no idea what purpose it would serve, she pulled the door open.

Chains clinked as she stepped inside, her eyes set to her hooves. So, he was awake. The screams would start at any second now. All there was to do was wait.

So she waited.

And waited.

She frowned; what was wrong with him?

Wait, what if something was wrong? Tentatively, she raised her head.

Fine sat as upright as his bonds would permit, gazing at her with wide eyes. No anger. No hate. No blank, mindless stare. Only a slowly-growing awareness and confusion.

Fleur’s eyebrows rose along with her ears. No, she shouldn’t hope. But… “M-Mr. Crime?” She took a cautious step closer. “Do you… Do you understand me?”

He closed his eyes tight, and she winced in preparation. Seconds passed. He opened them wide again, and they were the same as before.

Did that count as awareness? After so long, could it be? “Mr. Crime?”

He worked his jaw, as if unaccustomed to it.

“Flrr?”

Her horn winked out. Air escaped her lungs and the two buckets on either side of her hit the floor with twin clangs. Even breathless, she still found herself moving across the room to grab him by the cheeks and stare into eyes that were, amazingly, clear.

“Y-you are okay? Not angry vith me?”

It couldn’t be true. As he stared at her, silent and wide-eyed, she braced for the inevitable backlash. Any second now, his expression would turn venomous and he’d begin screaming muffled obscenities at her. She knew this to be true… but still held her breath. Silent pleas swam through her brain at a mile a minute.

And then he did something wholly unexpected: he smiled. Not just a smile, but a grin so broad it seemed almost unequine. He burst into a fit of giggles as tears formed rivers down his cheeks. For the briefest moment, Fleur thought he’d fallen back into his mania.

But his eyes. Though blurred by tears, the happiness they reflected told her everything she could possibly need to know.

There could be no containing the elation that came with her comprehension. She dove forward, wrapping her forelegs around his neck. She couldn’t tell if she was sobbing or laughing. Maybe it was a crazy mix of both. Maybe she was crazy, but she didn’t care. Fine wasn’t angry. He wasn’t screaming. He was okay. All the fear, the misery, the feelings of hopelessness, they were all washed away with his muffled laughter and the comforting weight of his chin resting against her shoulder.

They must have remained that way for hours, alternating between laughing and crying into one another’s shoulders. Fleur held on tight, even as her legs began to ache. If she let go, she might find it all to be a hallucination, a desperate dream concocted by a desperate filly. As long as he was there, physically touching her, she could believe. She wanted to believe so much.

As time passed and their emotions settled, Fleur began to accept that this was real. And with that, a fresh excitement hit her. She thought back on her calendar, the one she’d dutifully kept track of even when it all seemed pointless. Was it accurate? If so, then it was…

Three days. He’d recovered three days earlier than Celestia predicted. Though her jaw ached from smiling so much, she couldn’t help grinning as she pulled away from Fine.

Her good humor faded a touch at the sight of blood on his collar. How foolish of her, to go hugging him when he was so raw! But he could take that work collar off now, and… and then… “I’m sorry, that must have hurt,” she replied, unwittingly reverting to griffon. “I just can’t believe it’s over. Oh, praise the sun, it’s over! And three days early, if my calendar’s right.” Her hooves danced as old dreams and fantasies dared to tiptoe back into her thoughts. “That means I can get Celestia to let you out!”

She turned away, then paused when Fine gave a muffled shout. Her heart all but stopped from the fear, but when she looked back he had his hooves raised as high as they could go and a pleading look on his face. With a relieved sigh, she took a step towards the door. “I am sorry, but I must get Celestia.”

He shook his head as best he could in his bonds, which wasn’t much. She blinked, uncertainty driving her hesitation. “No? But she is only pony who can free you.” Abruptly realizing she’d been speaking griffon, she forced her tongue back into Equestrian. “Do you not vant out?”

Fine sagged, breath whistling out from around his bit like air slowly escaping a balloon. He waved his hooves up and down at her, as if to calm.

“I do not understand. I sought you vould be happy to be free.” She leaned forward as he tapped his hoof on the floor three times. The look on his face suggested she was supposed to infer something. Maybe the count as important. Three… three what?

Oh. “Sree? Vy… You vant to vait sree days?”

He nodded vigorously against his bonds, the chains rattling. Even without the bit in his mouth, she would have recognized how fake his attempt at a smile was.

Her ears folded back and she chewed her lip. Why three days? If her calendar was accurate, they’d been down here for months! Didn’t he want to see the sunshine, feel the wind, breathe fresh air? Yet the more she studied him, the more she understood that he was completely serious. But why? Why would he want to keep living in this horrible place, trapped in those nightmarish shackles?

But then another thought occurred to her: she’d helped Fine. He was better, or so it appeared. If she got Celestia… would she lose him again? Would he walk away and leave her alone?

Three days.

She took a few steps closer. “Vell, I suppose. I really vant to get out of sis place, but… sree more days vouldn’t hurt.”

This time his smile was real, as was the nuzzle he gave her abruptly burning cheeks. She grinned and averted her eyes with a light giggle.

Yes, three days wouldn’t be so bad.

Fleur pronked about the princess’s legs, unable to stop grinning. Celestia had come on the very day of her prediction, even having the courtesy of knocking on the door. Now Fleur could show her the fruits of her labor! The sheer elation could keep her bouncing for days.

“Vait until you see, Princess! He is new stallion. Come, look.”

The door to the cell opened, and there sat Fine Crime. Fleur had done her best to clean him up, although his mane was still a bright red mess and his coat ungroomed. He looked thin, too, but three days of giving him extra food couldn’t fix that. Though he appeared as a dog who’d just slept in an alleyway, she was proud of her accomplishment, and eagerly pranced to his side.

Celestia sat before him, her smile small and her eyes calculating. Fleur only beamed and leaned a little closer to Fine, ears perked to listen to the praise that would surely be coming her way. The princess said nothing, though. Not for a long time. She just stared at Fine, who gazed right back with a blank expression. Fleur didn’t understand Fine’s stoic manner; shouldn’t he be thrilled? Yet she said nothing, not daring to interrupt the silence no matter how much fidgeting she did.

At last, Celestia nodded. “Well, it seems you are all better. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Well, no time like the present. Let’s test this out properly, hmm?”

There was no fanfare; one minute Fine was a prisoner, the next the shackles were coming loose. Fleur turned to watch, only to lower her head and hunch her shoulders at the sight of furless skin, so raw as to be intensely red. Blisters and scabs covered his exposed body, and she couldn’t resist a shiver. Had he really put up with that for three months? What would he have looked like without her there to treat him with the gel?

The thought only made her shudders more forceful.

Celestia’s smile turned smug. “All better?”

Fine’s upper lip twitched, as if he were resisting the urge to bare his teeth. Then, slowly, he bowed his head to her. “It is. Th… Thank you, Celestia.”

Fleur’s heart fluttered, for his voice was everything she remembered. Oh, how she’d longed to hear it!

Celestia blinked, cocked her head and tapped her chin. “Really? Even knowing what a big favor I did for you, I assumed the nine weeks of ever-worsening agony would make you hate me for this.”

A smirk adorned Fine’s lips as he bent down to push the inhibitor ring from his horn. It hit the floor without a sound. “Disappointed?”

Celestia raised her hooves in a shrug. “Maybe a little. That’s okay, though, I’ll fix that pretty quickly.”

Fleur blinked, looking between the two of them. This conversation wasn’t going at all like she expected. Why didn’t either of them seem excited? Fine was cured. Shouldn’t they be reacting more strongly to this? Well, perhaps not Fine, as he’d had three days to get used to the idea, but still.

“I don’t doubt it,” Fine said, his frown coming back. “And for the record, I do still hate you. I’m just obligated to give credit where it’s due.” He leaned over and nudged Fleur, who broke into a wide grin at the contact. “Even if you didn’t spend the time with me like Fleur did.”

“Well, I do have a world of misery to run.” Celestia chuckled and turned to Fleur. Her voice became motherly. “Now then, I believe it’s time for a little filly’s reward.”

This was it! Fleur was bouncing before she knew it, beaming up at Celestia as a combination of pride and excitement coursed through her veins. So eager was she to hear Celestia’s praise that she once again forgot to speak Equestrian. “I did good, didn’t I? It was really hard, but I pulled through just as I promised!”

Celestia nodded and, to Fleur’s mild surprise, responded in griffon as well. “You did wonderfully, Miss Purpurnyj, and I’m sure Fine appreciates your hard work, but I’m afraid our business is at an end.”

Wait, what?

Fleur dropped to her haunches, taking those words in. What did that even mean?

Before she could formulate a response, Celestia turned to Fine.

“Kill her.”

If blood could turn cold, Fleur’s would have been ice. She leapt to her hooves to gape at the princess. “What? B-but I did what you asked!”

Celestia didn’t have ponies killed. She didn’t. That was more like what griffons did!

“And you did a remarkable job,” Celestia agreed, ever with that pleasant smile. “Yet I’m afraid you know far too much now. We can’t have unpredictable little ponies running around Equestria telling others about the cure for the Bloodmane, now can we?”

Fine turned to her with a jerk, and Fleur thought her heart had already stopped beating. She backed away on wobbling legs, shaking her head. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening! He’d not wanted to kill her in the past, surely he wouldn’t want to now. But he was approaching, and he was in a combat stance, and… and…

She pushed every scrap of hope she had into her words. “N-no, please. You saved me back in Grypha, I… I saved you now. You w-wouldn’t really kill me, w-would you, Mr. Crime?”

He took a step forward, but his legs shook with the motion. His eyes narrowed, his mouth opened…

“Celestia, wait.”

“Go ahead.”

As if a switch had been turned off in his head, Fine’s aggressive posture disappeared in an instant. He turned to Celestia and sat. Fleur could only stare, her mind torn between fear and confusion.

When he spoke, it was in an even tone of complete seriousness. “I think it would be better if we named Fleur an Archon.”

She blinked… then fell to her haunches. An Archon? Her?

Her attention was captured by Celestia’s light chuckle. “Ah, yes, I saw this one coming from a mile away. She’s a little young for Archon work, is she not?”

“She’ll be less obvious that way,” he countered, offering a confident smile. “She can’t be more than thirteen. If you check the records, you’ll find I was that age when I signed up.”

Wait. Fleur’s head whipped to Fine as comprehension dawned: he was proposing to hire her. Nervous excitement struck her at the idea, but a voice in the back of her head was screaming for her to run away as fast as her long legs could carry her. She couldn’t possibly listen to that advice, though.

“Hmm…” Celestia glanced between the two of them. “Of course, you’re just trying to protect her because she helped you through a traumatic ordeal. Will she really make for a good Archon?”

Indeed, would she? Fleur had known that fine was an Archon, but not once in all her fantasies had she imagined becoming one herself. Did that mean anything?

“You’re absolutely right, I am trying to protect her.” He nodded at Fleur, who perked up instantly. She knew he didn’t actually want to harm her. Maybe her hopes were going to come true, after all. And if that was the case, why would she even consider turning down an offer to be an Archon?

Not that she had a choice in the matter, of course.

Fine continued. “I’m also acknowledging a valuable resource. Fleur has no family ties – I personally made sure of that – and from listening to her these past few months I know that her primary direction for the past four years has been finding me. Then she remained here for twelve weeks tending to a raging maniac. I believe that’s called loyalty, and I can use it.”

Celestia’s smile turned into a wry grin. “You are enjoying this. Do you really think I hadn’t already thought of all that?”

“Oh, I know you did,” he replied with confidence. “But you weren’t going to let me take her in unless I made the arguments, right?”

His words struck Fleur like a hammer, and she sputtered at the idea. “T-take me in?”

Without so much as a glance in her direction, Fine performed a sharp gesture with his hoof. Fleur got the message and slapped her hooves over her lips. Her mind was running wild with the very idea.

She was so busy thinking of the possibilities and trying to control her wild heart that she barely noticed how long it took for Celestia to respond. “Very well. I will permit this. After all, she did do a good job and may prove valuable.”

Fleur gasped through her hooves. She almost fell over, being too happy to even think about keeping her balance.

Fine’s face didn’t so much as flinch. “Excellent. I will—”

Celestia’s hoof rose in a silencing motion. “I have one condition.” She turned to Fleur. “Listen well, little one, for this is important.”

Fleur dropped her hooves to the floor and nodded frantically. “I’ll listen, I will!”

“Good.” The princess turned back to Fine. “I don’t want the cure for the Bloodmane being known to the public. So, if Fleur ever reveals this information to the general public, you will kill her immediately, as well as any ponies she told. Am I clear, Fine?”

Fine offered the princess a toothy smile and replied through clenched teeth, “Like an expertly crafted window, seconds before I buck it into a thousand tiny shards.”

“Remember, those shards can cut deep.” Celestia giggled, then turned to the door. “Well, I’ll give you the night to recover. Tomorrow it’s back to the grindstone for you, my little pony.”

The princess left, not giving Fleur so much as a passing glance. She kept her head held high and a smile on her lips, as if threatening to have a thirteen-year-old filly killed was nothing to her. The thought left an empty feeling within Fleur, but that space was filled rapidly when she turned her eyes on Fine.

Who abruptly scowled, his gaze set on the now-empty door. “Goddess, but I hate that mare.”

They were alone. He was sane again. For the first time since Grypha, they could actually talk. Fleur knew exactly what she wanted to ask first, even as she dreaded the potential answer. With head low, she spoke. “Umm… Mr. Crime?”

His head turned to her, and the heat of his gaze faded to something much gentler. She swallowed the lump in her throat. It was now or never.

“Are you really going to take me in?”

His head pulled back and he rubbed his mane. He went through a number of strange expressions, none of which Fleur could identify. “Well… yes.”

It was as if somepony had detonated a firecracker in her heart. All the hopes and dreams of the past four years smashed into her reality at once. She didn’t even realize she’d moved until her hooves were wrapped around his neck in an embrace. “Yes! Thank you, thank you so much!” It seemed like such a paltry exclamation compared to the sheer, unbridled joy she felt at hearing those two simple words.

And that pleasure only doubled when she felt him returning the embrace, pulling her tight against his chest despite the blisters and pain it must have caused. He spoke quiet griffon in her ear. “You did me a huge service, Fleur. I should be the one thanking you. But know it won’t be easy.”

“I don’t care!” She pulled back and rubbed tears from her eyes. “I’ll finally have a family again, even if it’s just one pony. And the fact that it’s you makes it even better!”

She’d said it. Out loud, to him. And he wouldn’t deny it. Nopony could deny it!

But then his hooves were on her shoulders. He gently pushed her into a sitting position. Although his eyes remained soft, his entire demeanor had shifted into something far more serious. ““Now hold on, Fleur, I need you to understand this situation. I just got you named an Archon. Do you know what that means?”

Archon. She let the name roll around in her skull for a few seconds, trying to wrap her head around it. Everyone everywhere knew of the Archons, but what they were? Even to a filly such as she, the name held a distinct level of dread. She recalled that griffon lord, what was his name? She couldn’t recall, but he’d been a very important figure in her home town, and he’d been terrified of them. Of course, Fleur hadn’t figured out exactly who he’d been terrified of until later.

“Umm… I th-think so. Even in Grypha, everypony and everygriffon were afraid of Archons. It’s like being the Boogiepony.”

Fine rewarded her with a soft, pleasant smile. “That’s right, we’re boogieponies. We have to do bad things, but we try to only do them to bad ponies. Celestia will have us hurt the good ones too, though.”

The idea brought that unpleasant emptiness back. Fleur didn’t want to think of Celestia in such a way. It broke every rule regarding the princess that she’d ever known. “L-Like how she wanted you to kill me?”

He gave no answer. With a quiet horror, Fleur realized how close to death she’d probably been a few moments ago. “I thought Celestia was a good pony.”

Fine sighed and pulled Fleur close once more, his hoof petting her mane. “I’m sorry, Fleur, but she’s not. She’s the most evil pony in the world, and we work for her.”

The most evil pony in the world. Surely not! But then, after three months in this place…

Pressing her cheek to his naked chest, she gazed up at him with hopeful eyes. “D-do we have to? Why not just leave?”

Pushing her back slightly, he knelt to her level and offered a wan smile. “We can’t. It’s impossible.”

At her frown, he set his hoof beneath her chin. “I’m going to teach you. You’ll learn how to be an Archon, but you’ll also learn how to avoid hurting the wrong ponies. It’s going to be tricky, and I need you to be a good student. Can you do that for me?”

Could she be a good student? He had no idea what she’d been up to these past few years, had he? Besides, “I can do anything for you, Mr. Crime.”

His face twisted and his shoulders went slack. “Please, call me Fine.” She couldn’t resist a little laugh at that, even as he leaned over to study her cutie mark. “From here on out, you’re my apprentice. And… I’m giving you a new name.”

She thought on that idea, then burst into a fit of giggles. “I think ‘Fleur Crime’ sounds silly.”

“Actually, I was thinking ‘Fleur de Lis.’ ”

She blinked, then turned to study her flank. It seemed like such an obvious name, and yet it had a certain charm to it. Classy, even. She grinned and nodded. “I like that one.”

“Good.” He hesitated, glancing at the door, but then relaxed once more. “Thank you, Fleur. Thank you for staying with me all this time. You’ve given me a special gift, and I will never forget it.”

She thought on the last few months; the screaming, the isolation, the feelings of worthlessness, hiding in her bed and wishing it could all be one long nightmare. “It was scary,” she confessed with a shiver.

But then she looked upon this stallion, her savior and hero. She took in his wounds, which made him quite hideous at the moment, and the way his mane made him appear wild. But his eyes shone with kindness, a kindness that would be giving her a real home for the first time in her life. Family. Even if it was just a family of two…

“It was worth it.”

Author's Notes:

Why, yes, that is the diary entry from Fine Crime's 7th chapter. I started off writing an entirely new entry, but then realized that the old one suited this perfectly.

...

Wait... NO! I mean, I, uh, totally planned to use it here all along, because I'm an awesome writer and stuff. Yeah.

Ahem...

I know some people hate me for showing Fleur's accent here. I tried to make it as easy to follow as possible by applying a mere two rules to her non-griffon language: th = s and w = v. Sometimes she also misses a word or two, which is meant to show that she's still working on mastering the language. I intend to gradually faze the accent out as she gets older... and will have to go back to all her scenes in the TvE universe to make sure I'm doing so properly. Not looking forward to that bit of cleanup.

In other news, I figured it would be beneficial to start noting ages for the characters who appear in the chapters, since I am going forward and backwards in time. I may go back and do this for all the chapters, but we'll see. Immortals don't get ages, because they don't really help much and I never picked a birthday for them. Anyway:

Fleur Purpurnyj/de Lis: 13
Sunset Shimmer: 11
Verity Fine Crime: 19