“You seem kind of, I don't know, tense.” Glade was resting on the carriage, her head on her hooves, as she watched Reman armor himself. Usually a very boring process, she entertained herself by wondering why the Imperial seemed to have a stick up his ass, and failing to find a logical reason. Maybe it had something to do with Lynette's absence. Actually, Glade had no idea where she had gone, only that she stayed back with Renoir, but never came to the portal.

“Been getting that a lot lately.” Reman snapped his the final hitches in his greeves, which made his upper body appear slimmer than his legs, disproportionally so. Glade watched him shiver in the rain, almost laughing as parts of his skin either reddened or paled in the cold. His scars stayed a light pink, and stood out far enough for water to trail them. Two in particular drew her eyes, for different reasons. The larger of the two ran from his right shoulder and disappeared where his armor began, though she knew it ended just above his left knee. The other was rather... unique; it was a bite centered around his left collarbone, and Glade was rather embarrassed to say she was the culprit. “If you're going to stare, you could at least toss a compliment my way.”

“You totally don't look like a weird apple on two legs.” Glade smiled at him, flashing her altered teeth. Some ponies naturally had canine teeth, though the cause was unknown, often blamed on a distant ancestor, or used as a mark of savagery in one's bloodline. As a result, many guardsponies had them; members of Luna's Night Guard invariably possessed the anomalous tooth. Glade family didn't, making her the very first of her line to have fangs of any sort, and hers were usable as weapons in a pinch.

“Right, and you don't look like a drowned rat.” The two shared a slight smile as Reman donned his breastplate, snapping the front clasps to their counterparts on the suit's lower portion. As with all heavy armor, it needed either two, practiced hands, or an extra set to make sure everything looked right. He had one hand that worked correctly, but there happened to be a few hooves nearby that no one was using. “Don't suppose you could snap these locks into place, could you?”

“What would you ever do without me?” She asked, rolling her eyes as she fluttered around the man. In response, he grinned at her, turning his head slightly.

“Live a life of adventure and riches.” It was true, in a sense. Renoir would have doubtlessly stayed by his side, and he wasn't exactly going anywhere; Reman was too important for his plans against the Valkihar, and Renoir could patch up everything his old regeneration couldn't. Even if he didn't want to keep dungeon crawling and just wanted to focus on curing himself, he had more than enough money to live on. But, that was all in the past; he had more important things to worry about now. “But, things would get rather lonely without good company.”

“Oh, so now I'm good company?” Glade asked as she worked the armor's clasp, finding the task much more difficult than it had any right to be. Fingers would have made this much easier, but that was why Reman had asked for her help, so she was out of luck. “Since when did you become such a flatterer?”

“Since you prohibited me from drinking.” Glade laughed at his flat answer, not knowing if he was joking or not. Alcohol had been very important to him for years, though she couldn't imagine why; lycans were almost immune to its effects. She recalled seeing Farkas go through a barrel of mead and come out looking more sober than he started.

“What happened to finding something else to occupy yourself?” Glade finished snapping the armor into place, taking the time to admire the polished, bronze metal. She flew around to face him, and saw he was halfway through attaching his pauldron. With a loud clink, he finished, and looked at her with an unimpressed look on his face. “You might have an addiction, so it'd be good to do something to get your mind off it.”

“Only if you're willing, and at least we don't need anything,” He said sarcastically, slipping the bronze sleeve of his broken arm, wincing whenever the bandages caught on the metal. Glade looked at him in confusion, not quite understanding his meaning. He bolted the armor into place and motioned for her to assist. “It's not like you can have multiple pregnancies or anything like that, right?”

“Not unless you humans have something freaky going on,” She answered, laughing at him a little. Under normal circumstances, it would have been obvious, but sex was perhaps the one subject he never blatantly mentioned. Glade blinked before she remembered he was a noble, not to mention Imperial society seemed to be a bit stuffy and very violent. She admitted she was basing her judgments on a minority, so it was entirely possible he just didn't talk about it. “I'm surprised you picked this as the one thing you're even slightly subtle about.”

“We had sex once and actually ended up reproducing,” He started, looking at her as one might a parent who'd found one's diary. Glade, however, thought it was funny, seeing him stumble over his words. “Asking after something like that isn’t exactly in my repertoire.”

“Hey, Glade, care for a roll in the hay?” She asked in a crude imitation of his voice. She finished with his sword arm's armor in time to see Reman's face lose color, and not from the chilling rain. He mumbled something in his native language, something she had only heard a couple of times, but the message seemed rather clear. “Now was that so hard?”

“You enjoy torturing me, don't you?”

“Extremely.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Sister,

We are almost home, and I write as we sit around a campfire in the Reach, a region of Skyrim full of mountains. As you can imagine, they are quite beautiful, but that is not what I am writing about. There is much I neglected to tell you in regards to Reman Tullius, and I do mean our ally, that is merely his full name. We knew he was a noble of his home country before his self-exile, but only after meeting some of his family have I learned the situation's full magnitude. Understand that I originally chose not to write out of respect for Reman's privacy, but, upon further thought, I realize I have no choice.

House Tullius, as his clan if called, is large, wealthy, and influential within the Empire. According to the clan's patriarch, Marcus Tullius, the Great House, which is the title of the eight largest clans in Cyrodiil, has much sway with the Emperor and the Imperial Legion, as well as being allied with Houses Scipio and Maro, which play home to the Empire's most accomplished naval commanders and the leaders of the Emperor's personal guard, respectively. Marcus Tullius himself is a general, and oversees suppressing the rebellion in Skyrim. Reman's father, Antonius, is a legate, which seems to either be the equivalent of a colonel or major. Uriel, Reman's twin brother, is a captain, and physically stronger than Reman by a good bit.

Now, for the bad news. Twilight Sparkle has taken a life; there is no other way for me to put it. We were attacked by brigands, and acting defensively, she slew one of them. I can tell she is deeply haunted by it, and we are all doing what we can to console her. She also may or may not have been visited by a Daedric Prince, but I don't enough information to say without doubt. Pinkie Pie definitely has, as she now carries the Prince's artifact, as Reman called it. We may or may not have a serious problem on our hooves.

Before I forget, Reman has a vampire friend named Renoir.

Also, Reman and Glade have something important to tell you, and I must ask you not to tell Major Winter Tundra or Spring Valley.

With love,

Luna

Celestia read the letter again and again as she awaited her sister and the Elements. Her guardsponies refused to leave her side as she stood before the portal, eager for some sign of life. She knew everypony was okay, or at least physically well, but much of the news had been worrisome, least of all whatever secret she needed to keep from Glade's parents. Pinkie had been contacted by a Daedra, which meant another of her little ponies was in danger, or worse.

Twilight, sweet, innocent, studious Twilight, had killed someone in Skyrim, taken the life of a bandit. Celestia hoped with all her heart she would be fine, find a way to cope, and emerge from this stronger and wiser. She had friends to help her, more than she knew, a family more than willing to do whatever they could. She made a note to send for Princess Cadence and Shining Armor at once; familiar faces would doubtlessly improve her emotional state. Regardless, Twilight would be home soon, and that could make all the difference.

The swirling blue of the portal rippled and intensified, sending a light breeze and drops of rain from the other side. It only allowed things to pass through when somepony intended to cross, and that could only mean one thing. Celestia took a breath and shouted, “Guardsponies, at ease!”

A dark blue hoof appeared from beyond the portal, then another and another, until Princess Luna stood on Equestria's soil once more. Next came Rarity, then Applejack, then Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash, then Twilight, who looked no worse for wear. Fluttershy crossed over next, immediately followed by a pale human in black. He nodded to her, and she immediately knew he was Renoir, the vampire form her sister's letter. Celestia noted his eyes were different than those of the vampires that once inhabited Equestria.

The heavy clang of metal on stone shook her attention. A bronze golem the size of a man made itself known as it stepped through. It carried a sword on its hip, and Summer Glade on its back. Nevermind; it was only Reman trying to be funny. Glade stuck her head over his and waved at the princess, who halfheartedly waved back.

“Sister, it is good to be home.” Luna walked up to her older sibling, smiling at her return. Skyrim was lovely, but nothing could beat Equestria in her heart. Twilight was beside her, almost as giddy as the day she was taken as Celestia's protege. “And I believe this filly has something for you. Twilight, if you will?”

“Of course,” She nodded, reaching into her saddlebag. She pulled out a large book, obviously hoof-bound, and Celestia could feel a certain dread in seeing it. Evil, she could fight; villains, she could slay; Discord, she could survive. There was one thing, however, that was the bane of her existence. “I have with me a short version of all Imperial traditions covered by the books in Reman's outpost, but it is far from complete.”

“I'm sure it will be of much help, Twilight.” Celestia's voice was the very meaning of calm and caring, but she hated that book for everything it was worth. If the Imperials were anything like the griffins, that book was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of tiny social graces that would make her look like a fool if she failed even one. “Hopefully Reman will be willing to provide some assistance.”

“Yes, sister; that shouldn't be an issue.” Luna excused herself shortly after that, having to raise the moon in an hour. The other Elements made their way towards the remaining two, looking rather happy with themselves. They spoke amongst themselves for a while, saying temporary goodbyes to Twilight, who would be staying in Canterlot for the next two week or so. While they talked, Celestia motioned for the vampire to come to her.

She broke from the small group, but stopped after about twelve feet, a suitable range for evading prying ears when everypony was making noise. He followed, keeping his terribly ugly eyes on her until she came to a stop. The swirling black and red stood out form his pale face, and were enough to give him an intimidating look. She was obviously stronger, but looking at maggots could be disheartening.

“I take it you're Renoir?” She asked curtly, using her diplomatic voice. Vampires had been a plague centuries ago, but they were all but wiped out now. If Reman's curse could spread to ponies, it only made sense for his to, as well.

“The very same,” He replied, just as disarmingly. He looked her up and down, as though trying to determine what sort of threat she would make. He also took notice of the many guards surrounding the garden. “I assume you have an ultimatum for me?”

“You catch on quick.” Celestia smiled with all the warmth of a glacier. “If you infect any of my little ponies, I'll throw you into the sun.”