“You son of a bitch!” Tundra yelled as he tackled the Imperial to the ground. He got in one good hit before Reman caught his hoof, but still managed to cut the punk's hand on his sharpened hoof-guards. The human yanked the offending limb away, before cracking his forehead against the retiree's snout. Renoir was on him in a flash, hooking his arms under the pegasus's forelegs before any more damage could be done.

The wizard did not expect to meet such resistance from a normal pony; even as Tundra struggled in his supernatural grip, his hold was slipping as fast as it had against Glade back on the frozen lake. He grunted and relented as the major drove a hoof into his knee, freeing the enraged stallion to take his revenge on Reman.

“That is quite enough, Major,” Celestia said, catching him before he could cause more harm. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Reman had already balled his fist, and didn't wish to find out what the bronze metal could do to somepony's face. Glade, she noticed, seemed conflicted about who to tell to stop; her father seemed the obvious choice, but it may have seemed like betrayal, while Reman may have perceived it as her calling him weaker than Tundra, which wouldn't have been good for anyone involved.

“Winter!” Spring Valley shouted, only now recovering from the shock of seeing her husband launch himself at the young mercenary. She looked at Renoir, the first to intervene, and saw his hands glowing with golden magic as he heal his injured knee. The skin on Reman's cheek has split along the bone, caused by a mixture of internal pressure from Tundra's hoof, and the hoof-guard's semi-sharp edge. “What-? I don't even know what to say!”

Night Light and Twilight Velvet were already moving Spike away from the brawl when Shining Armor took his place beside the fray, should things escalate. Glade rushed to help Reman, who only clutched at his face, but kept his eyes on Tundra. He was silent, completely still save for his breathing, and kept his unflinching gaze on his opposite. For the briefest of moments, Luna looked to the Skyforge-steel blade that rested on the table, and was glad the Imperial had put it there before Tundra acted on impulse.

Glade's hoof touched Reman's cheek, making him flinch before moving his hand out of the way and allowing her to see the extent of his facial injuries. “And you just finished healing the damage Uriel did,” she attempted to joke, but only succeeded in sounding concerned. Reman smirked at her, curling the split bit of flesh up in a crude mirror of his mouth as he did so, and did his best to reassure her.

“I've had worse,” he said as he rose to his feet. In truth, Tundra could have done a lot more damage if Celestia hadn't intervened, and he was factoring in his own resistance. Even then, he could feel bits of his cheekbone sliding back into place and mending the damage a single punch had wrought. Part of him, and it was no small part, wanted nothing more than to close the distance that separated him from Tundra, and finish what had been started, but he also knew there was a time for action and a time for thought. “Major,” he began, “I understand we have... shall we say differing opinions of each other, and I completely understand where you're coming from.”

“Oh, you do?” Tundra asked sarcastically. In his mind, Reman Tullius had done nothing less than steal his daughter away, and brought her back as something different. He still loved Glade, as much as any parent loves their child, but he was less than pleased to discover that Reman existed, and his mood only worsened when he learned he still lived. She was his world, and losing her to this bastard Imperial drove an iron spike through his heart. “Glade deserves better than some punk mercenary who thinks he's got the world figured out.”

“I've told her as much,” Reman agreed, eliciting a look of confused anger from the irate stallion. Glade gave him a sidelong look, silently asking him when they had discussed this and why she had no memory of it, but then realized he was putting on a show for her dad. “Personally, she could do better than me.”

Major Winter Tundra just looked at the man, silently mulling over what he had said and the sincerity of his words. The Imperial made it sound as though Glade had a choice, but if she was made part of his pack, then some curse or some other poison of the mind kept her with him. “No, she's only still by your side because you turned her into whatever in Tartarus you are!”

“Dad!” Glade shouted, looking more than angry. “That isn't the reason at all!”

“Isn't this how it works?” he asked, still shouting. That's how it always went in books, a recurring theme featuring a dastardly villain with a transmittable plague having complete dominion over those they infected. In his mind, Reman had turned her into a zombie puppet, with just enough cognitive functions to keep Celestia from seeing the truth. “He turned you, so you listen to what he says.”

“I am a living testament to the contrary,” Reman said, raising an annoyed brow. “I killed the werewolf who infected me, twice.”

“I killed him once,” Glade added, looking in no small part pleased with herself. Pack mentality may have made them a little more friendly than they would have been without it, but it could hardly account for everything. “I'm here by my own will.”

Tundra looked to be nearing the dangerous area between angry and furious, a place that looked calm to the unwary observer, where a man or stallion was liable to do the first thing that came to mind. In Imperial history, battles and cities had been lost to this irrational state of mind, and ponies could credit Princess Luna's first steps towards becoming Nightmare Moon with the half-sanity caused by conflict that could only originate from family troubles. Just as he opened his mouth to say another half-reasoned thought, Summer Glade interrupted him.

“I'm pregnant,” she said in a calm, even voice. Anyone looking into Tundra's eyes could see a mind screeching to a halt as the information processed. Glade herself was perfectly fine with how she broke the news, though given how her mother gasped and looked somewhere between happy and disappointed, she realized that it only prevented one parental outburst, and may have caused another.

“Congratulations,” Cadence said, drawing some measure of attention to herself. She, of course, had her suspicions, but now that they were confirmed, she felt rather happy for them. She also knew Twilight knew, and perhaps the other Elements, but she still felt elated to be among the first ponies to learn of the future foal.

“Right, yeah,” Shining Armor followed after a moment's hesitation. Spike nodded along, hoping, in his childish mind, to stop the violence before it could start again. He also thought it was a little neat how Glade and Reman had managed to reproduce, and briefly wondered, as only a young mind can, what said offspring would like.

Tundra, working out that the young Tullius had not only managed to turn his daughter into a werewolf, but had also impregnated her with his bastard child, tried working out how best to kill him before he or the princesses could stop him.

“Moving a little fast, are we?” Spring Valley asked, trying more to calm her own nerves than anything else, but her question still elicited a pair of bashful grins from the two in question.

Seeing his chance, Tundra lunged, aiming his sharpened guards for Reman's throat.

He was then able to appreciate the considerable skill of whatever Dwarven smith had forged Reman's gauntlet. He even saw a nick in the bronze metal, the possible mark of a dagger or some other small cutting weapon the Imperial had parried with a swat of his hand.

Everything went black for Major Winter Tundra.

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

Fluttershy skulked through the halls, following the steadfast guardspony who had been so kind as to lead her to the dining hall. As before, she was still an odd mixture of starving, dehydrated, and nauseous, so much so that she feared she would be unable to hold down anything she consumed. Surely, being a vampire wouldn't be this difficult? She'd seen Renoir eat and drink like anypony else, but maybe that came with age? However, that was a mere annoyance when compared to her heightened senses.

The sunlight, normally a welcome sight for the timid pegasus, burned her eyes even in the smallest of doses. She squinted to minimize the pain. Her ears had undergone a similar augmentation, enough to amplify even the smallest of hoofsteps into a roaring thunderclap that sought to destroy every ounce of sanity she had. She whimpered with every step, only continuing at the thought of Renoir being able to remedy her pains.

The guard, on the other hand, was wondering why the creepy biped he'd been informed was living in the East Wing's second diplomat suite had some ties to the Element of Kindness, and why she was hungover. He pushed open the door and gestured within. “Here we are, ma'am.”

“Oh, thank you!” she said as she scurried within, quickly catching sight of her lord's black armor. As quickly as she could manage, she trotted toward him, eager for counsel on her condition.

“Fluttershy?” he asked in a booming voice, far louder than she recalled, but she realized he must not have been expecting her to have turned so soon.

“Yes, master?” she asked innocently, awaiting the first of her orders as a creature of the night. Whatever thunderous conversation was being had at the table ceased in that moment, as all eyes drifted to the vampiric pair. Princess Luna threw her hooves in the air and walked out of the room, far too tired after her long night to care about whatever things Fluttershy and Renoir engaged in before Springs had called the on a vampire hunt.

“What in Oblivion are you talking about?” the Belmont asked, hoping this was all some sort of joke, and that Fluttershy did not have false memories. He looked to Reman, who shrugged. The Imperial recognized the symptoms of a Sanguinum hangover, having suffered a few in his day, but only snorted back a slight laugh as he took his seat again, being mindful of the medics tending to Tundra's smashed face.

“I'm thirsty and I'm hungry and I feel sick and my eyes are red,” she replied in a rapid-fire whisper, wincing at the noise of her own voice. “I remember how uncomfortable you felt last night, so I drank that stuff to help me relax so you could bite me.” Very slowly, Reman turned his head to face Renoir, while Twilight looked about ready to blast him into high orbit. “You must have turned me into a vampire last night.”

The others at the table, those not already privy to the knowledge of Renoir's undead nature, gawked at him. He was the stuff of legends, of nightmares and beyond, and yet there he sat, with the Element of Kindness's head resting in his lap as she said she was a vampire, and all but pledging her eternal life to his service.

“Fluttershy, I never bit you.” Renoir's words caught her attention as he placed his hands on either side of her head. A slight look of concentration crossed his face as he focused his magicka into curing the poison's lingering effects. The red, spidery veins in her eyes receded the pounding in her head and the sloshing in her gut subsided, leaving only a severe hunger and thirst. “You're feeling the last effects of Angelus Sanguinum, nothing more.”

Spring Valley, recovering from the shock of finding out her only daughter was pregnant out of wedlock, a shape-shifting monster, and found company with another shape-shifting monster who was friends with a vampire, came to terms with how odd her situation truly was. “Miss Velvet,” she began, looking to the author, “does this sound like a plausible book to you?”

“More like an eight-part series,” she replied, looking amazed as well. Somewhere in the chaos, amends were being made, and Valley found the idea of being a grandmother not entirely repulsive. Princess Celestia seemed rather pleased with how things were pulling themselves together, while Cadence couldn't help but stare at the new couple as they talked Fluttershy out of calling Renoir master all the time.

“So, Reman,” Valley began as her husband began to stir, after being unconscious for nearly enough time to warrant serious concern. “How about Tundra and I treat you and Glade to a nice dinner tonight to talk things over, after my loving husband has had time to calm down?”