Everypony knew who the Queen was. It was rare that one could find a pony who didn't show at least a flash of recognition at "The Queen." After all, she was the leader of the largest and most successful underground mafia in Equestria. She was, however, something of a queer household icon where everypony knew her name and was familiar with her hoofwriting, but nopony knew what she looked like.

That pony's reaction to the name, however, could range from relief and joy to anger and vindictiveness, from fear and anxiety to dismissiveness and ambivalence. Her position in Equestria was the definition of "controversial."

To some, she was nothing more than a mafia gang leader, one who ran a massive conspiracy hidden from the law, and she was one to be killed or nullified. There was no question that almost everything she did or directed was illegal; even she and her personal agents would attest to that. So long she and her syndicate existed, order could never have the power it needed to reign, and so long as the Kingdom—as she called her syndicate—was large and in control of vast swaths of Equestria, the world would run on her rules and not the law.

To others, she was indeed the counterpoint to the regime and the law, but that was no vice. To them, "law and order" had gotten far too large and corrupt to uphold anything resembling righteousness. Everypony knew somepony who'd been swindled by a cop or government agent before, whether via bribes or blackmail or negligent duty. If you weren't one with power or influence in government or society, best not to call the police at all: whether they'd actually choose to help you or not could be a roll of the dice. Even healthcare wasn't a certainty; doctors in government hospitals had the nasty habit of occasionally withhold life-saving medicines in exchange for information or unreasonable sums of money.

To those unfortunate ponies, the Queen's Kingdom turned out to be a silent savior, one that you could depend on when law couldn't be trusted. She, at the least, was known to keep to her word . . . so long as you kept to yours. She wasn't one to hoof out her favor for free; you had to do her favors to earn it. Regardless of whether that be by selling her your wares, volunteering your services, or paying her monetarily, the road to safety in a corrupt society necessarily included breaking the law yourself.

Letting the law rule the land was the way to dystopia, so letting an underground mafia call the shots was the only solution. But the Queen's Kingdom was only the largest gang in Equestria—it was by no means the only one.

A hoofful of them—Eclipse, Hoofsie, and Deception, to name a few—were allied with the Queen's and largely shared her values. Aligning yourself with one of them was as good a move as any, especially if you were located in an area the Kingdom had little control over. Of course, there were several gangs outside of the Queen's sphere of influence as well. Their number included Tempest and The Grand Ancient, and they were considerably more dangerous to deal with.

While the Queen and her allies were not above extortion, weapons trafficking, and even murder, rarely did they do anything truly despicable. Those not allied with the Queen, however, were typically not so reserved in their "methods" and had different motivations. They tended to be the start of many problems (only offering their "solution" for a price) and were therefore no friends of the regime, the populace, or the Queen.

Those who didn't want to actively engage in crime but hated the regime were left with two options. The ones who refused to associate with the underworld had to tolerate the corruption above it and hope it wouldn't target them specifically. The ones who did and joined the Queen's fold gained something resembling true protection and real service at the cost of a clean record. They saw it as the lesser of two evils.

One such pony in the latter category was Fluttershy. She, like many others, was a victim of the law and rival gangs' meddling and only wanted peace. She was a medical student but had been forced into practice prematurely by Tempest for their members at gunpoint. To them, doing that was cheaper than sending them to officially sanctioned hospitals or hiring an actual doctor; Fluttershy was simply the unlucky one who'd been chosen for their job.

When Fluttershy attempted to call the authorities, they said they wouldn't help unless she could compensate them the time and resources required to bring down a leg of a major gang and deal with any attempted vengeance. Being a student in debt, she didn't have the means to do that.

It only stopped when one of her best friends, Rainbow Dash, was able to call in a favor from the Queen. Thanks to her, in less than forty-eight hours, Tempest's influence on Fluttershy was . . . disappeared. Her ties with the underworld, however, were not. In exchange for relief from her student debts, Fluttershy found herself again practicing medicine prematurely and illegally, though this time for the Queen's syndicate (and thankfully, definitely not at gunpoint).

Fluttershy wasn't proud of the ties she had—she really just wanted to be left alone—but again, like many others would say, it was a necessary evil to live a semi-normal life. And altogether, the deal wasn't that bad; while the work was still very illegal, if it wasn't for the fact that the entrance to the clinic was the backdoor to an apparently condemned building, she would have thought it akin to a slightly overzealous internship with tuition remuneration. True, that left her precious little time to classes and clerkships, but it did give her a hoof on real medical practice earlier than her peers. The benefits (intentional and incidental) were otherwise useful and inoffensive; thus, the underworld was easy to ignore.

Those ties were the background tapestry in Fluttershy's life, but they were about to come to the forefront again.

It was dusk. Having just finished her rounds at Canterlot General, this was typically when Fluttershy would head home and decompress after an exhausting week of books and patients. These hours weren't typically the ones Fluttershy would use to frequent the city (insofar as she frequented the city at all). Tonight, she was heading out of it instead; Fluttershy had something to do, and she had to do it urgently.

Fluttershy crossed the last road in the Sixth District of Canterlot, the last one in the city before the metropolitan area ended and the suburbs began. Looking up and down the street nervously, when she saw nopony around, she slipped into the narrow alley between two small buildings.

The alleyway opened to a square courtyard of concrete and flowerbeds at its end, but Fluttershy wasn't interested in the courtyard. She focused on a tiny nodule of dirt that spilled from underneath the paving stones in a corner instead. Otherwise a completely inconsequential bit of dirt in the urban jungle and almost hidden by the dying light, nevertheless, Fluttershy knew it was special.

Again glancing around to make sure nopony could see what she was doing, she retrieved a hollow metal spike with a thin hemp string attached to it from her bags and hammered it into the dirt with her hoof, leaving only a tiny nodule of brown string visible from the surface. Inside that spike was a message identifying herself, what she needed, and her contact information. After that, she focused on the three flowerpots in a row nearby. She arranged them in a triangle instead.

It was all very strange work, but Fluttershy knew what she was doing. In a society of corrupt police and underground networks, the Queen was a prime target for the law, and as such, she made herself very scarce. Yet Fluttershy needed to contact her somehow. When Rainbow Dash first contacted the Kingdom to help her, they left her a way to get in touch with the Queen directly if ever it was needed (as it was now). Leave a message for the Queen's spies in this specific location and wait for them to respond back.

Once the deed was done, Fluttershy glanced around her for a third time. Once she again assessed that she was alone, she walked out of the courtyard, out of the alley, and back into the city to her apartment where she stayed for her studies. She hoped the Queen would get back to her soon.

Soon, as it turned out, was too much time to wait. Fluttershy knew that the Queen's agents were everywhere, but she didn't know they were so diligent. Because the very next day at midmorning, a few hours after Fluttershy woke up, she heard a knock on the door.

She opened the door to a brown coated mare with a wide smile on her face. "Hello there! I'm aware that you want to purchase some sapphires for your butterfly enclosure?"

It seemed like an awfully unsolicited offer; Fluttershy couldn't afford to buy gemstones, and she didn't even have a butterfly enclosure. But she wasn't worried about that—she was listening for words. "Sapphire" was one of the key words of the Queen's agents she was supposed to listen for, and "butterfly" was the one she wrote in her message. This was, indeed, one of Rarity's agents, and they received her message. Now to respond . . .

"Oh, yes, I do! But I really need, um, rubies instead," Fluttershy said, inviting the mare inside. It was a poor ruse, but she said "rubies." That was all that mattered to identify herself as "on the inside." There was so much ceremony to go about just getting to talk with somepony that Fluttershy had to be careful not to miss a step.

Once they were both inside and the front door was closed again, it was down to business. The brown mare dropped her smile and moved her voice to a low whisper. "Her Majesty is here—" she slipped Fluttershy a small note "—but she'll be only open to visitors starting three hours after noon, and she won't be there tomorrow. Ask the owner whether there are too many birds in Canterlot, and he'll give you the code to get in the 'Employee Access' door. That'll lead you to her."

Fluttershy nodded and whispered back, "Oh, alright. Thank you, um . . ."

The brown mare shook her head. "You can call me Blu. I'll just need a few minutes in here; then I'll be out of your hair. Destroy that location once you memorize it, and don't mention it aloud."

Fluttershy nodded again.

From there proceeded some small talk and discussion about nonexistent gem purchases for nonexistent butterfly enclosures. It was just a ruse to spend enough time in Fluttershy's apartment such that somepony wouldn't be suspicious that a pony walked into somepony's apartment only for them to walk back out seconds later. But the pony called Blu did not overstay her welcome; once they spent a few minutes chatting on inconsequential topics and she witnessed Fluttershy tear up the note, she was gone.

Code words in mind and location memorized, all that was left was for Fluttershy to wait. Wait to delve into the underworld society of Equestria and try to emerge unscathed. It wasn't anything she'd do by choice; the underworld frightened her.

The fact that she was going only underscored the terror she felt for as long as she didn't.

Four-thirty. Joe's Coffee Shop. She'd been there a few times before for, well, coffee. She and Joe weren't exactly good friends, but he knew the times she usually visited and her preferred drinks. Today, she was there not for late night study but for an entirely different matter. She never took Joe's shop as a portal to the underworld or Joe as the keyholder, though; it made the whole establishment look just a little bit darker.

She stepped inside and glanced around. There were a couple other ponies nursing their drinks at the tables, and that made her nervous—she'd be asking for the key to a restricted area under their noses. Thankfully, she didn't recognize anyone; she wouldn't have had the nerve to continue if that were the case.

Joe recognized her immediately. "Fluttershy! Glad to see you back," he called. "Hope your studies are treating you well. Double shot espresso?"

"Not today," Fluttershy responded while walking up to the counter. "Um, do you think there are too many birds in Canterlot?" She tried not to stumble on the question and to make it appear as just that: a question.

Joe didn't miss a beat. "Oh, certainly, Fluttershy! The pigeons, the warblers, all of them—" he swept his hoof over his head "—they're all over the city, on all the rafters, everything. The noise they make in the mornings makes me hope some of them would take it out of town. Of course, Canterlot is home for them too, but I just wish they'd be a little more considerate about it."

Fluttershy blinked. Wasn't she supposed to get the code to a door? She didn't hear anything in what he said. If there was another step to the process or another code word she should have been looking out for, she didn't know it. That would be disastrous! Maybe it was "rafters" or "considerate"? But then, what would it mean, and what would she need to do? Unless this was the wrong building? But she was sure she memorized the location correctly; there were only so many Joe's Coffee Shops in—

Joe repeated himself. "Yes, there are definitely a lot of birds in Canterlot." He made the same gesture with his hoof, going a little slower this time. The do-over let Fluttershy study Joe a little closer, and she just managed to notice some marks on the bottom of the hoof he was waving. They looked like scuffs at first—and they'd undoubtedly be scuffed off with enough walking—but as it was, she could make out three numbers on his hoof. They appeared for only a few seconds, and they were only visible to a pony standing a few feet away—but they were enough.

"O-oh! Right. There are a lot of birds in Canterlot. I'll just be using the restroom. Excuse me."

Fluttershy stepped back and went down a hallway in the corner of the store. Out of view of the shop patrons and dimly lit, it was, indeed, where the restrooms were. It was also where an "Employee Access" door was. It always was, to her, a nondescript door that she couldn’t enter (nor would she have tried). Now it was a portal to another world.

She tapped three numbers on the adjacent keypad. A clunk issued from the door, and Fluttershy turned the handle. She was inside.

The door opened not to a room, but a long staircase that spiraled downwards into even dimmer lighting, and that gave her pause. The scariness of the place she found herself in only fortified the fear she had of the underworld in general. It wasn't that she entirely distrusted the Queen and her syndicate—she was the one paying her student debts—but she was also dangerous. Just getting as far as she did incurred much more risk than she was comfortable with, and talking with her could be even riskier.

She knew a word out of place or annoying her was all that was needed to ensure she wouldn't live until tomorrow. The Queen's power was far-reaching, and only she knew the extent of her influence. Fluttershy didn't think for a second that if she annoyed the Queen to the point that she didn't want her around anymore, she could have her disappeared just as she did to her problems before. She didn't think she had done anything wrong so far—and she did help in the clinic—but you could never be too careful. Or scared.

It was that fear that nearly had Fluttershy running out the door she came and forgetting she had tried to do anything at all. It would be so easy to return to simplicity. But along with complacency, she knew, would come catastrophe. She needed somepony to push that away.

Fluttershy clenched her eyes shut and swallowed the lump in her throat. Then she opened her eyes again and started her descent—literally and figuratively—into the underground society of Equestria.

In about two flights, the scary lighting of the stairwell made way for bright white lighting and white walls, revealing what appeared to be a normal office. It was so jarring, finding the normal again. Then again, that was how the clinic was, too. A receptionist pony sat at a desk, and she looked up when Fluttershy entered. And as the office itself looked like, so too did what she said sound: "Hello. Can I help you?"

Fluttershy shuffled her hooves and looked down at them. "I'd, um, like to see the Queen, please," she said quietly.

"The Queen," the receptionist repeated. "What business do you have with Her Majesty?"

Fluttershy squeaked. She didn't want to explain; she probably couldn't explain it more than once. But the receptionist was looking so threatening, and she had just asked to see her boss with no explanation. She needed to say at least a word about her reason. "I . . . I'm in danger. I need her help," she whimpered in a voice even quieter than before. It sounded pathetic.

Despite her terrible explanation, the receptionist only nodded and looked down at the paper she was fiddling with. "She's busy right now, but she'll be clear in a few minutes. Wait here, and I'll tell you when you can go." She gestured to a set of chairs in the corner of the room.

Not trusting her voice to another word, Fluttershy nodded jerkily and shuffled her way to the seat. It gave her time to take control of her breathing again and take stock of where she was and the situation she was in.

The office was very nondescript and unremarkable, though it was well-kept. She'd seen many before that weren't as clean as this one was. Aside from the receptionist, she was the only one in the room, but it didn't seem like the place would receive many visitors, anyway. And aside from the shuffling of papers from the receptionist and the faint rumble of activity from Joe's Coffee Shop above, it was silent. There were, however, a few signs that pointed to the place not quite being copasetic, and one was on the receptionist's desk: a pistol.

It made sense that in such a dangerous line of work, you always had to be armed for protection, but it still put Fluttershy ill at ease. To think that if she had been the wrong pony, or if she had given the wrong answers to her questions, she could have been killed on the spot . . . She shivered and looked away. That was a viciousness and vindictiveness she wasn't familiar with. She had no doubt that the receptionist knew how to use the gun, too. Even in such a secret and secured location, it was apparent that the Queen didn't take any chances with undesirables in her territory.

The Queen . . . Fluttershy had never seen her before. Of course, she had struck a deal with her before, but that only involved a letter in her hoofwriting and a chat with one of her agents. The wording on the letter was cordial enough, and her terms were very reasonable, but that didn't say a lot about the Queen herself or how she'd behave in pony. She was the leader of a gang; Fluttershy didn't know what to expect, though it didn't seem like "niceness" would be her first priority.

She didn't have long to dwell on that, however, as the receptionist piped up again. "She'll see you now," she said simply, gesturing. "End of the hall."

"Oh. Thanks," Fluttershy said as she followed the hoof and nervously walked through yet another portal to a deeper world. At the end of the winding hallway was another door, open just a crack. Gulping again, Fluttershy knocked on the door once and entered.

Here was another office, though this one smaller and much more opulently decorated. While the reception area and interim hallway were a sterile white, this place was much warmer. The desk in the center of the room was one of dark mahogany, and the ground was laid with an intricately patterned brown carpet. It must have cost a fortune. Spread around the office were filing cabinets of different sizes, a lamp that filled the room with soft warm light, and what appeared to be a cat bed in the corner. The back wall was draped in purple and white silken sheets. Fluttershy followed the curtains up the wall to find they all emanated from a ring attached to the high ceiling, forming an elegant loft. Underneath this loft was the Queen.

She was a mare of surprising age, probably no more than a couple years older than Fluttershy herself. And she was exceptionally beautiful. Showing a pristine and sparkling white coat, fastidiously coiffed royal purple mane, and piercing cerulean eyes under perfect lashes, she'd perhaps be more at home being a model than a crime boss. She looked nothing like what she expected. No cigar in mouth, no cat to stroke, no bits to toss around. She didn't have a pistol on her desk, either. But regardless of the part she may or may not have looked, her mere status and the power she wielded strangled Fluttershy's voice.

When the Queen's eyes lifted from the paperwork on her desk and found their way to Fluttershy, they flashed with recognition. "Fluttershy. How are you, my dear?" she said in a cultivated, aristocratic accent. "Studies going well, I take it?"

"Um." She had never interacted with the Queen before, aside from a single letter, yet here she was, not only knowing what her name was but knowing who she was and what she did too. Yes, she helped at one of her clinics, but that was probably on the periphery of her Kingdom; Fluttershy didn't expect her to remember the name of every lackey who worked for her. She couldn't even expect her classmates to remember her sometimes. How could the Queen be that . . . omniscient?

The Queen's eyes grew concerned. "Fluttershy? Is there something wrong?"

Still thoroughly confused and nervous, Fluttershy babbled. "U-um, no, of course not! I mean, there's something—no, not that, and—"

"Fluttershy." The Queen got up and walked around the table to stand right next to her. She put a hoof on her withers. "It's just me, and it's just the two of us. Calm down."

"Ah, um . . ." Her contact felt so familiar. It didn't befit her; or rather, it didn't befit Fluttershy's image of her. The fact she was on her side of the table now and sympathetic of her nervousness distanced her even further from that image. Anxiety's grip on her mind tempered, and her words came a little easier.

"O-of course, your, um, highness?"

The Queen smiled. "Rarity is my name. But you can call me that if you prefer."

Fluttershy nodded, still apprehensive but feeling at ease enough to, at least marginally, function again.

The Queen nodded as well and went back behind her desk. She swept all the paperwork on top of it to a drawer underneath and leaned on her desk, studying Fluttershy with a gaze she swore pierced right through her and examined her every memory and feeling. "So, Fluttershy. It's nice to see you out of the clinic, but I take it you didn't find me just to chat. Nopony does. You're here to make a deal with the Kingdom, I'd guess. What is it you want from me, dear?"

Just thinking about the answer made Fluttershy shiver a little, hence why she was so reluctant to talk about it, like she didn't to the receptionist. But this was what she had come all the way down for. If she wasn't truthful, the Queen couldn't possibly help. No, she couldn't give up now, not when she had already come so far. The Queen's aid wasn't at all guaranteed, but she had to at least try.

Fluttershy took a deep breath. "I . . . I need help," she said, starting just as pathetically as she did before. "I got my residency match." Her residency match was where she'd train for the next few years to become an independent practicing doctor in full. It was to begin in just a few weeks.

She smiled again. "But that's wonderful, dear! I don't see that as bad news."

Fluttershy winced and averted her eyes. "It's in Mount Cedar. Fillydelphia," she whispered.

Her smile dropped. "Oh. I see."

There were few enough places known to be openly run by gangs, but Mount Cedar Hospital was one of them. Run by the Tempest, it was one of those places the law was in a constant legal battle with but for which the case never seemed to go anywhere. Plus, it appeared as a perfectly legitimate hospital, and Fillydelphia was dreadfully short of them. That was the reason a lot of ponies gave for why law enforcement wasn't trying harder to shut it down.

Even so, it was gang-controlled and far from honest. It somepony was from Fillydelphia, it was best to assume they were affiliated with Tempest in at least some small fashion. They would have a hard time getting medical care, otherwise.

No one in her class wanted to be matched there, least of all Fluttershy. She fainted on the spot when she figured out what her match was, her traumatic memories resurfacing again. Her previous dealings with the Tempest didn't go very well . . .

"I don't know what to do!" she said in a quavering voice. The words started spilling out of Fluttershy's mouth—every thought, every fear, everything she'd suppressed since she got her match for the sake of maintaining face. "I don't want to go back—I can't go back, not when they still know who I am. They'll know me, and they must be mad that I'm not helping them anymore. They're just mean, and they're dangerous, and they'll only be more dangerous when they're mad, and I don't want to talk to them, and—"

"You got eleven more patients, Little Yellow."

Fluttershy squeaked and looked back down at her patient: a gruff, stocky stallion who had been slashed in the shoulder with a knife. A member of Tempest, there wasn't any doubt. She was still cleaning the wound; after that, she would need to dress the wound and stitch it up. She didn't have enough experience to do it any faster, and if she had been properly trained, it still probably wouldn't have been done this fast.

"They're gonna bleed out if you don't speed up."

Fluttershy finished wiping the wound with peroxide as quickly as she could. Of course, she didn't actually want to use it, but it was all they gave her to use. How did they expect her to do a good job patching ponies up if the only antiseptic they had was peroxide and they wanted her to go this fast? She wouldn't need to if they just had more doctors around to help. But she was the only one working, and she was still a student, at that. She didn't even want to be a trauma surgeon!

"You're not as valuable as my associates, you know. You're going to prove your worth."

Fluttershy squealed again and resisted the urge to cry. It was only because she had been following a squirrel to a bad part of town and Tempest was looking for a doctor to add to their clinic on the same day. They forced her to save the lives of their gang members in exchange for her own: a fair trade, they said. But she never wanted to work for them in the first place, and they offered nothing of what she wanted or needed. How could wanting her own life make it a fair trade!?

They'd made it abundantly clear too many times that she couldn't stop and she was always at their mercy. It was no great loss to them if she was killed; they'd just find another student, probably from her own class again. All she could do was keep working, patching up and healing the exact same ponies who'd put her at gunpoint and force her to patch up more of those ponies the very next day.

No, she couldn't ask for help—there was no one else around. She couldn't hide—they'd find her and kill her. She couldn't cry—if her tears got in the wound, she'd have to start all over.

"Ten."

Fluttershy was on the ground, sobbing and shaking, her hooves over her head protectively, wanting to disappear. She didn't doubt that the threats weren't empty words. She was truly worth nothing to them, and they only kept her around for as long as she was more productive than the next pony they found. They constantly reminded her of that. The threat was real; the intimidation was real; and the fear she felt was so very, very real. It only worked because it was so cruel.

The darkest moment in her life was when she no longer thought it was worth it to continue with their "deal." When she considered it a better exchange to escape for whatever cost they took from her. If all she learned medicine for was to help these monsters, why did it matter? Why would it matter if she disappeared if she was so worthless?

It was over now, thanks in no small part to her Rainbow Dash and the Queen herself coming to her rescue and saving her from both Tempest and herself. When the Queen made her counter-proposal to her, she was scared and apprehensive at first; it was another gang that wanted her service. But no, the Queen offered real compensation under much less stressful conditions, and she made it clear she'd do nothing to harm her if she backed out now or later. It was almost too considerate of her needs. Now, the looming threat that she'd have abandon that consideration and kindness to go back to how she was before filled her with paralyzing fear.

She felt a presence along her flank that rubbed comfortingly on it. "Oh, Fluttershy," she heard beside her. "I didn't know it affected you that badly."

Through her sobs and whimpers, Fluttershy said, "I don't want to go back. I did everything I could. I tried to appeal my match, tried to find someplace different, but nopony would listen. I tried calling the police again, and all they said was that it wasn't illegal for them to match me and that they couldn't help. A-and now it's all I can go to; otherwise, I'll forfeit my degree. You're the only one who ever helped me. And y-you can do anything, right?

"I-I'm just a student; I don't have any money, and I don't know what else I can give you. B-but I'll do anything to get out of this, so I don't have to go back to them. It's awful, and they're awful, and they kept telling me I was worthless. I can't help those monsters, and I don't want to spend every day afraid that somepony will k-kill me because I'm expendable! My life is not a bargaining chip to play with! I can't, I can't, I can't, I—"

"Shh," Rarity whispered from beside her while a hoof worked on her back. "Shhh. You came to the right pony."

Fluttershy kept sobbing for several minutes, unable to restrain her memories or her tears. She couldn't help it, not when every hour she had spent with the Tempest had her suppressing those tears. Even so, Rarity was so patient; she didn't stray from her side and continued to work her back until her sobs subsided.

When she quieted down, Rarity asked, "You are alright, Fluttershy?"

Fluttershy sniffled. She was anything but alright; the nightmares she still had about those days could have her weeping for hours. But it would be rude to take up any more of Rarity's time than she already did. "Y-yes," she mumbled.

Rarity nodded and lent a hoof to help her back to her feet. She went back to her side of the desk, retrieving some paperwork from some filing cabinets behind to mull over.

Fluttershy shrunk back and tried to appear smaller, ashamed she'd lost control of herself like that, least of all to a mob boss. Of course she desperately needed help, and of course she would give up a lot to get it, but she didn't like appearing so vulnerable, least of all to a leader of the underworld. Because just as she hated the gang that was Tempest, and despite the fact the Queen had been so kind to pay her debts and let her live in peace, the Queen's Kingdom was a gang, too. And she had just confessed that she had no other recourse and would do anything for aid.

She didn't need to be coerced, and the Queen didn't need to try to negotiate with her—she had already been defeated. She was just waiting in front of a gang leader, waiting to be taken advantage of. Fluttershy didn't reasonably think the Queen would do as the Tempest did and hold her life in escrow to get her to accept unreasonable terms—but it was frightening that, right now, she could.

Once again, Fluttershy contemplated whether running away was the best idea. She could very well be in more danger now than she was before, completely at the mercy of the Queen and her terms. But if she fled now, she'd just be in the same position she was in before, and the Queen surely wouldn't talk to her again, having run out on one of her deals. She probably would have made a new enemy in the Queen at that point, and then she'd have two gangs that wanted to kill her.

"Fluttershy. I have a proposition for you."

"O-oh!" Fluttershy jumped and slowly looked back at the Queen, now returned to a clean desk and wearing an inscrutable expression. She trembled in wait.

The Queen raised a brow. "Darling, you're still so nervous."

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, doing a poor job of convincing anypony she was anything but scared out of her wits.

"Hold your anxiety for a moment, and listen to my proposition first. You've stated your case to me, and I want to help you. I don't want you to fall into the grips of the Tempest any more than you do."

"O-okay?" Fluttershy's tremors calmed just a little.

The Queen nodded. "Now, if there's one thing the Tempest and I can agree on—and believe me, those things are very few—it's that good and qualified doctors are dreadfully hard to come by. The path there is quite narrow and systematic—something I believe you are quite familiar with—and that leads to most players in the system staying in the system when they're finished. There's a lot of effort and danger in moving to the underworld, and that for rather little gain." Rarity put a hoof to her chin. "In fact, I'm fairly sure that 'match' of yours wasn't a match at all—more Tempest trying to take you back and deeper into their territory, where my interference is less effective.

"But you, my dear, are in an interesting position. You're already practicing with us, yes? Not that I think you are at particularly high risk of being found out—I manage and conceal my clinics quite well—but it means you've consented to the risk. So, Fluttershy, what I've in mind is this: You come and practice with us full time, and I bring you on as an employee of the Kingdom and get you a license. If one of my senior doctors is observing your work, that should be 'residency' enough. What say you?"

Fluttershy's eyes widened. To be able to go straight into paid practice in an environment she found unobjectionable and have her license granted at the same time had to be too good to be true. "You can do that?"

The Queen laughed. "Fluttershy, you yourself just said that you believed I 'could do anything'! Convincing the right ponies to grant you a license and claim your residency in some small hospital in the middle of nowhere is foal's play. We'll just forge a notification of medical leave for you so that your class and your match aren't suspicious of where you went, and the transition should be seamless. Mount Cedar can't put a claim on you again so long as you're 'sick,' and I think they'll give up after a few years of that."

Fluttershy only came to see if Rarity could somehow move her to a different hospital. She didn't expect the terms of the proposition to be so much in her favor. That was why another nickname for the Queen was "Generosity," she supposed. "What's the catch?" she asked nervously.

Rarity cocked her head. "Catch? I'm not sure what you're referring to, Fluttershy. There is no 'catch.' You're brought on payroll; you earn your license in medicine; and I get another doctor to add to my clinics. As far as I'm aware, that's an equitable exchange."

It was certainly a far more "equal trade" than the Tempest had claimed. "It's just, well, I'm coming to you for help, and I'm making a deal with the—" she didn't want to say the word "mafia" in case it offended her, so she went with "you" instead. "N-not that I don't appreciate the terms, but you just seem awfully—"

"Generous?" Rarity winked, smiling. "I find happy employees more productive than coerced ones, and I'd rather not have you worry about being 'expendable' or any nonsense like that while in the clinic. It's up to you."

Fluttershy never forgot that the Queen was very far away from her, and she was under no social or fiscal obligation to help her. She was a student with no influence and next to nothing to offer a mafia boss with thousands of ponies under her hoof—probably one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria. She was always a nothing, and she was even more of a nothing here. Rules meant nothing when she could make her own. Yet the Queen—Rarity—was so approachable and considerate. She was empathetic of her hardships. And she treated her like a something.

She didn't seem like a mafia boss at all when she talked and acted like she did to her. A mafia boss didn't comfort you when you cried, cared about your job, or cut you nice deals. She just seemed like a good pony helping another pony, only with much higher stakes. Almost like a friend helping a friend.

That perspective made her choice much easier to make. "I accept, Rarity," Fluttershy said, feeling happier with her position than she had ever been since she got her match.

Rarity clapped her hooves. "Wonderful, dear! I was quite hoping you'd accept, actually. I couldn't bear losing some of my best talent, not when I've heard such good things about you from my associates."

"I, um, what? You have?" Fluttershy queried. She just came in periodically to help out, and half of the time, she was practicing things on patients she'd studied only once or twice before. Next to "I'm sorry" as her most repeated phrase in the clinic was "I've never done this before."

"Certainly. There's been plenty of noise about the young and pretty student working in the clinic. How she seems to understand you better than yourself and how much she cares for you, even when she isn't quite sure how to fix something. Ah, and how she can get anypony to take their pills!" Rarity chuckled.

Fluttershy shrunk back and instinctively looked for something to hide behind. She could feel the blush growing on her cheeks. "I-I'm not special," she mumbled.

"But you are, my dear," Rarity assured. "It would have been a great loss if we were to have lost you. Of course, every doctor in my clinics is valuable, but you, particularly so. You do know that most everypony in my syndicate has a codename, yes? Mine is 'Queen,' of course." Rarity bobbed her mane. "Well, I've heard wind of the de facto codename some of my members have given you, and I'm sure you've heard of it as well."

She had a codename already? She didn't think she was that ingrained in the underworld yet to need to use a codename. She didn't even really want one. The Tempest kept calling her "little yellow," and she didn't like that at all.

"Ponies often address you by a certain title in the clinic, do they not?" Rarity added.

Fluttershy twisted her face in thought. "Well, sometimes the patients say, 'Bring me the kind doctor,' and then one of the nurses comes to get me. I don't really understand because they always bring me and nopony else, even though I'm not a doctor yet. I tell these ponies that I'm a student, but they keep calling me that, and exactly like that, with the 'kind' and everything."

"It's because that is your codename," Rarity said, smiling. "'Kind Doctor.' You see? That is the codename the Kingdom has given you because that is the pony the Kingdom sees in you. One who is caring, compassionate, even miraculous, and remarkable for her age. Patients and coworkers alike, they like you being here, and they want you to stay. In what little time you've volunteered to us, you've already gained a great deal of respect. My respect." Rarity chuckled again. "Now you work for me, and you still say I'm giving you a generous deal? Pish, darling."

Fluttershy blushed harder. She didn't think such a selfish-sounding assertion like "you work for me" could ever be so kind. But when she wrapped it up in so much praise and flattery . . . And she said she gained her respect. Rarity's respect, the Queen's respect. It was all too much. No, no matter what she said, her gift was exceedingly generous; it had to be when Rarity had just rescued her (twice) and lofted her to such an exalted position at the same time. All she could do was squeak in a tiny voice, "Thank you so much."

"You are most welcome, my dear. You have no objections to working in my clinics?"

Fluttershy shook her head several times. Rarity really did manage her clinics well; she had trouble differentiating her clinics from legitimate ones, at least from the inside. They were well staffed with several nurses and doctors she could ask when she inevitably didn't know something. In comparison to the places she remembered working, she could certainly do much worse.

"Very good. Tell me, though, where did you find your interest in healing and medicine? Considering what you have to give today, I am quite curious."

It took a few seconds of embarrassed squeaking and half-starts for Fluttershy to find her voice again. "Well, I've always been good with animals ever since I was very small. And I learned how to patch them up when they got hurt. I had to when they injured themselves so often. The mice, they just loved to break things. Sometimes themselves."

Rarity chuckled, leaning forward onto her desk. "Oh goodness, I don't know whether to laugh or cry."

Fluttershy chuckled too, Rarity's mirth contagious. The words came easier. "So I learned how to mend and set broken bones to care for my animals. But oh, they were so tiny, and their bones were so small that they were hard to work with. Maybe that's why I feel like I'm better at fixing the small bones in ponies than the bigger ones."

"So it was your foalhood that fostered your love for healing? I suppose the same can be said of me, in a way. My parents ran legitimate businesses for the most part, or so I thought. No, they were but covers. They actually ran a syndicate much like mine under my snout for the longest time . . ."

Fluttershy and Rarity talked for between ten minutes and an hour—Fluttershy lost track of time. They drifted from subject to subject, from Fluttershy's schooling and medical career to Rarity's descent to the underworld and her career. At one point, the receptionist in the lobby even brought in a small fruit platter for them to munch on while they talked. How she knew they were talking and could appreciate a snack, Fluttershy didn't know.

Eventually, through their conversation, the desk and the rank gulf between them seemed to disappear, and Fluttershy found herself happily talking at length and listening intently as Rarity spoke. She didn't feel like a plebeian begging to a master anymore; as bold as it was, Fluttershy felt like they were on the same level. She felt it was so easy to talk with Rarity that it paradoxically felt foreign, as if they were meant to be friends long before but only managed to meet now and were making up for lost time.

But when the platter between them was cleared and the silences in their conversation grew longer, Fluttershy instinctively knew that their time was soon to end. And despite the nervous start to their meeting, how much Rarity once intimidated her, the endless hoops she had to jump through to get here, and the weight of the deal they negotiated, Fluttershy was loathe to part.

After a lull in their conversation, Rarity sighed in contentment and said, "Dear, you don't know how pleasant it is to be able to just talk every so often."

Fluttershy blinked, perplexed. "But you manage so many ponies. Do you not talk with any of them?"

"Oh no, I do, every day, though I'd describe that as more 'dancing' than talking." She shook her head and looked up, eyes defocused. "It's always a dance: deciding how much information to tell this one in case my enemies buy them out, telling that one outright lies when I know they're a spy, intimidating these to get what I want, playing dumb to those when they recognize me . . ." She looked back to her companion. "Everypony is a player in this game, but nopony wants to be played. When you have as much power as I do, it takes a light touch to use it tactfully."

Fluttershy pouted, concerned. "That sounds very stressful, Rarity. You can't do that every day; it's not healthy."

Rarity shrugged. "That's what it takes at the top of an organization, the top of a crime ring. Every utterance I make has consequences. I told you that nopony ever comes to me to just talk anymore, right?"

Fluttershy felt herself in a moral dilemma. She wanted to help, and she knew how she could, but Rarity reminded her who and what she'd be helping: an underground mafia. It was so much easier to stay legal, and she wasn't eager to encourage crime. But Rarity had already helped her so much, and she was already working for her. She owed her. And crime ring or no, illegal or no, whoever it was, whatever the problem, she wasn't one to stand around when somepony else was in distress.

She shuffled her hooves. "I could come and just talk with you. Like today."

Rarity appeared surprised by the suggestion, her eyes widening. She recovered quickly, smiling warmly a moment later. "I can see how you won your reputation and your codename in the clinic, dear. You really are the Kind Doctor. Thank you, Fluttershy."

Fluttershy shuffled again and blushed.

The floor creaked as Rarity stood up. "You've been wonderful company today, my dear. But before you go, I have a gift for you." She turned and rummaged through the bottom drawer of one of her cabinets. She retrieved a golden band and placed it on the desk between them. It looked fairly simple, but a pattern etched into the metal and inlaid with silver wrapped around the ring. The pattern looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen it before.

"That band bears my personal crest. Wear it on your wingshoulder if you wish; it states that you are a friend of mine and that you are under my protection. It should help deter most any gang member from doing you serious harm if they see it; they don't dare test my vengeance. That includes Tempest. My apologies for not giving this to you sooner, but I didn’t know how dire your situation was until today."

As if she wasn't generous enough; Fluttershy didn't know how to respond. She took the band in her hoof and rotated it, examining the patterns decorating it. At three points around the band, the serpentine etchings would coalesce into an intricate diamond pattern, bearing a resemblance to Rarity's cutie mark. As much as Fluttershy wasn't keen to wear something that identified her as affiliated with the underworld, she wouldn't offend her new friend by rejecting such a gift.

Fluttershy carefully slipped the band down to the root of her left wing. Conveniently, it blended in with her coat and was partially covered by her covert feathers; so long as she kept her wing folded, nopony would know she was wearing anything at all. It meant that even as she was Rarity's friend and wore a ring that said as much, she wouldn't need to show it unless she wanted to. She had Rarity's might behind her but could also keep her ties a secret.

That was thrice Rarity stunned her: the first rescue, her second proposition, and now the band. Overcome with gratitude, Fluttershy bowed her head and said, "Your Majesty."

The Queen inclined her head.