Monsters

By Sharpe Quill

Chapter 4: Answers?

At length, Belle finally calmed herself down. She rose to her hooves and shook vigorously, pulling herself together. Confident in her resolve, she trotted out of the office. After a quick stop in the equipment room to drop off Shining Star’s lantern, she headed out to talk to Emerald. Her unicorn friend tactfully didn’t bring up the mayor’s visit.

“I’m going to pay Brine a little visit,” Belle said as confidently as she could.

Em nodded. “Are you going to take somepony with you?”

Belle hesitated for a second before shaking her head. “No. I have several things that need to be done and I’m going to need everypony for them.”

“What do you need?” asked Em without hesitation.

Belle smiled at her friend’s immediate support. “I want Corporal Snowflake to go to the hospital.”

“Why?” Em frowned in puzzlement.

Oh, right. Belle was most likely the first guard back from the fire and so news of the diamond dog must not have reached Em yet. That reminded her that she would have to write up a report concerning the fire. Joy.

She briefly laid out what had happened at the second fire, including the discovery of the tunnel and the prints. Em looked surprised at the news of the wounded diamond dog.

“Do you think he might have had something to do with it?” she asked.

“I can’t think of a reason for him to be there if he wasn’t involved in some way. That’s why I want Snowflake there. I need somepony there if he pulls through.” It occurred to Belle that she had no idea about the state of the diamond dog now; it was even possible that he hadn’t survived to the hospital. “If he doesn’t,” she continued, “then we‘ll have to move on, but he’s our best lead right now.”

“Alright,” said Em, her horn alight again as she scribbled down her captain’s orders.

“Now then,” continued Belle, “the evidence all points to one or more creatures currently being loose in the city. They are obviously dangerous so we need to begin searching for them. I want Sergeant Oak to take Keen and Constable Morning Dew and do a sweep of the docks and warehouses. If there are monsters out there, I want them found.”

The large unicorn paused in her writing and looked up. “Are you sure they should be doing it this late though? It’ll be dark soon.”

Belle grimaced. “I know, but I won’t have another fire, or another injured pony in my town. I want this resolved.”

Em still looked uncertain but nodded, making another note. “Very well.”

Who was left then? Oh yes. “As soon as Shining Star returns, she’s to relieve you for the evening.” Shining’s haunted expression was still fresh in Belle’s mind; the poor rookie needed a chance to recover from the traumatizing discovery of the previous night.

Em frowned. “Didn’t you just say you’re going to need everypony? How is sending me home helping?”

“You’ve been up all day after a late night, and in case they don’t find the creatures tonight, then I’m going to need you tomorrow. Besides, you’re no good to me tired,” she said in a lightly teasing voice.

“Well…” Em still looked unconvinced.

“That’s an order, Sergeant.” Belle’s voice was firm but she had a smile on her face.

Emerald returned the smile and gave a crisp salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Belle sniffed with an air of faux-impatience. “Good, glad that’s settled. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

The earth pony mare trotted out quickly and turned her head towards the docks.

When she reached the tavern, Belle paused momentarily just inside the doorway to lift her tinted glasses onto her forehead. She was forced to squint in the light which, while dim for other ponies, was still quite harsh for her sensitive eyes. After blinking rapidly for a few seconds, her eyes adjusted as best they could; she took in the scene before her.

The Hole was uncharacteristically quiet on this evening. The music still played but was somehow quieter than normal, as though reluctant to call attention to itself. The common room was only a little over half full, and the normal chatter and laughter of the pony patrons had been reduced to barely more than a low murmur. Tumbler Glass, the barmare Belle had spoken to earlier that day, was still behind the bar, busy cleaning glasses. An oppressive atmosphere permeated the tavern, so heavy that it was almost tangible.

When she entered, a few ponies paused in their muted conversations to glance at her but immediately turned back around. Belle entered warily, her hoofsteps sounding unnaturally loud in the unusually quiet room. She felt the urge to shy away, to retreat from the oddly heavy atmosphere, but she forced herself onward. She kept her head high and her steps unwavering as she tried to exude as much confidence and authority as she could muster. The room was unimpressed.

Almost halfway through the room she spotted Brine sitting at a small table in the back corner. Two of his cronies stood nearby with their backs to the table, their eyes scanning the room vigilantly. As she approached, their eyes latched onto her and followed her progress closely. Brine was sitting on a small cushion with his back to the wall, and he was talking to somepony opposite him, somepony who obviously didn’t want to be recognized as he wore a large cloak which completely obscured any identifiable characteristics.

As Belle approached the table, Brine’s eye flickered to her and a frown creased his forehead. He leaned forward slightly and spoke in a hushed tone to the cloaked figure. The two bodyguards moved to block her path. She didn’t hesitate for a second, knowing that if she did she would lose any control she might have. She pushed past the two thugs and as she did she whispered in a commanding and dangerous voice, “Don’t try it boys.”

She stepped up to the table just as Brine’s guest turned, keeping his cloaked back to her, and hurried out. Belle watched the figure leave for a second. She almost called out to stop him but hesitated, torn between her curiosity about the mysterious figure’s identity and her need for answers. Her duty won out and she turned back to face Brine, pushing the cloaked figure out of her mind.

“Captain Belle,” Brine said respectfully but with a hint of annoyance, “what can I do for you?”

“I told you we’d talk later, Brine,” Belle said confidently. “It’s later.

The scarred stallion looked around the room. “Is this the time or the place, Captain?”

Belle snorted quietly. “We can speak in your office if that’s where you feel safe,” she said with a hint of contempt, “but we will speak now.”

“I see,” Brine said in a dangerous voice. “And if I refuse?”

“We either talk here, or I arrest you and we talk at the Guard House.” Belle kept her voice as steady as she could, smothering her nervousness. She had never done anything like this before, and to do it to Brine of all ponies was nerve-wracking to say the least. She decided to ease off just a touch. “Look, we’re on the same side here. I’m trying to stop whatever is causing these fires before somepony else gets hurt. Work with me, Brine.”

The tavern owner looked at the captain for a long moment before giving an almost imperceptible nod. He rose without a word and scooted out from behind the table. He led the way through a door off to the side of the bar, giving Ms. Glass a significant nod as he passed. The barmare gave him an understanding nod of her own and turned back to her work. Belle followed him into the room and pushed the door closed behind her, leaving the one-eyed stallion’s guards outside. He turned his head when he heard the door closed but made no comment.

The inside of Brine’s office was frugal at best. A simple desk, its top worn and scarred from years of use, sat directly across from the door. Two cabinets rested along one wall and a small table served as a lamp stand graced the opposing wall. And that was it, no pictures, no photographs, not even a plotted plant gave life to the room. The only concessions Brine had made to any type of décor were a model ship, its style more reminiscent of an ocean vessel as opposed to the smaller but bulkier river boats, and a plain silver locket on a wooden pedestal.

Brine moved to stand behind his desk and immediately sat down on a cushion. There were no other seats in the room so Belle simply stood across the desk from the stallion. His actions reminded Belle of her own when the mayor had visited, hurrying to put the desk between them. Could it be that Brine was somehow intimidated by her? It seemed a ludicrous idea, and yet…

She forced the idea from her mind, it hardly mattered right now. She needed to focus on her mission.

“Ask your questions, Captain,” Brine said once he had situated himself.

What should she ask about first? The issue of the unknown creatures was foremost in her mind, but in truth that was still mostly supposition. It was a matter that she wanted to know about. The deaths of the fillies and the two fires were things that she needed to know about.

“Tell me what you know about the fires last night and today,” she said at last.

Brine took a moment before answering; he seemed to be considering the best way to answer. At last he leaned forward and said in a low voice, “Very little beyond what you already know.”

“And how do you know what I already know?” Belle demanded testily. He was plainly stalling for time.

Brine didn’t answer but gave her a small, knowing grin that sent a chill down the captain’s spine. She shied away from his cyclopean gaze for an instant before mastering herself. She scowled at him, willing herself to look unbothered by his insinuation. He settled back slightly, almost imperceptibly, and let the smirk flee from his muzzle.

“What can you tell me?” Belle asked again, putting an annoyed edge in her voice.

Again Brine took a moment before answering, although a shorter one than before. “I know that the fire in the warehouse was an unfortunate accident. A crew of ponies was moving cargo and one of its contents proved more… volatile than previously imagined. I don’t know the specifics, but it appears to have simply been misfortune. As for today’s fire, I will admit that you are better informed than I.”

He inclined his head in a half bow. As happened so often, Belle couldn’t quite tell if he was mocking her or not. She decided to ignore it.

“I was told that the warehouse was abandoned,” she said, leaving the implication unsaid. She began to slowly pace the area in front of Brine’s desk.

“On most days, it was,” the scarred stallion said, watching her pace. “But it would occasionally be used in the services of, shall we say, discreet clients.”

“You mean smuggling,” Belle growled, speeding up her pacing in reaction to her rising anger.

Brine waved a forehoof in the air as though brushing away the offensive term. “Such a negative word,” he said in a tone that Belle would have described as flippant if she didn’t know the stallion better. “It is merely used whenever a merchant needs a shipment moved quickly and quietly. Think of it as an expedited service.”

The captain of the Dock Town Guard paused in her walking to glower at the older stallion. “It is still illegal, regardless of what you call it,” she spat, letting her anger get the best of her.

Brine gave a long-suffering sigh. “This is a discussion for another day, Captain. The most recent events are significantly more important, don’t you agree?”

She let her glower linger for a few moments more before giving a curt nod and resuming her pacing, this time at a more controlled gait. “You’re right. But when all this is over, there are going to be a few changes around here.”

Brine gave her another of his infuriating smiles and another of his ‘totally-not-mocking’ incline of the head.

“So the fire was an accident. What caused the explosion?” Belle continued, forcing herself to focus on the issue at hoof.

Brine shrugged, the scars across his back shifting unsettlingly. “No idea. I don’t ask about the contents. I merely make the proper connections. Whatever the shipment was, it was destroyed in the fire. My ponies found nothing of interest or of value in the wreckage.”

Belle stopped again, placing herself directly in front of the desk. When she spoke next, she didn’t bother to hide the barely controlled anger lying beneath the surface. “And how do the fillies factor into all of this? Why did they have to die? Who did it?”

Brine stiffened, his posture noticeably tensing. For just a second, true and unrepressed rage crept into his expression. It was not a defensive anger aimed at Belle for her implied accusation, but rather an anger in alignment with her own wrath. It was an intense fury directed at the needless loss of life, at the cruel ending of two children, and especially at whoever was responsible for it. The wrathful look fled as quickly as it had appeared, but his rigidity remained.

“I don’t know,” he growled, pronouncing each word forcefully, “but I aim to find out.”

The mare considered him for a brief moment before nodding. He most likely really didn’t know any more than he was saying, at least not concerning the fillies. Their deaths were clearly not something he condoned and he wanted to see those responsible brought to justice. The question was, whose justice?

Belle carefully considered her next question while at the same time recomposing herself and reeling back her anger. “Whose cargo was it? I’m going to need to speak to them.”

Brine shook his head resolutely. “No, Captain, you won’t.”

The captain snorted. “Brine, I need to know who it is.”

“Trust me, there’s nothing more you can get from them other than what I’ve already told you.”

Belle wanted to stomp her hoof in frustration but she forced herself to remain calm. She did begin pacing again, however, with each hoofstep coming down slightly harder than was strictly necessary. “Brine, the only reason I don’t arrest you right now for smuggling is because we’ve got bigger issues right now. Don’t make me reconsider that.”

The suddenly smug stallion leaned forward again. “What smuggling?”

“The smuggling you just confessed to!” Belle spat, her anger again starting to get the better of her.

“I don’t recall confessing any such thing,” Brine said innocently.

“I just heard you say it, I can arrest you for it if I choose to do so.”

Brine’s mouth turned up at the corners, part grin and part sneer. “Based on what evidence?”

“Your own words!” Belle’s steps had become actual stomps at this point.

“Ah, but unless you have a signed confession or a third-party witness, it’s all just hearsay.” Brine relaxed back on his haunches.

Belle felt her face heat up in equal parts anger and embarrassment. The blasted stallion was right; she had no leverage over him. She was fumbling around for a response when, surprisingly, Brine himself came to her rescue.

“Look, Captain,” he said, all the smugness fading away, “I can’t give you any names. Besides, if such business transactions had been made, then theoretically they would have been done anonymously or at least with pseudonyms. I can assure you, there is nothing they could tell you that I haven’t already. We need to focus on what’s going on now.”

Belle ground her teeth together in frustration. She summoned the shredded remnants of her dignity about her and nodded. “Very well.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Brine asked politely but with a bite of impatience.

Belle considered the question for a moment, still struggling to completely rein in her anger. At last she asked, “Did any of the ships to come through recently report any missing crew members? Specifically a diamond dog?”

The question seemed to generally surprise him. “No, why?”

Interesting. It seemed the stallion who was infamous for his knowledge of almost everything in Dock had not yet heard about the injured diamond dog. Belle fought to keep her own petty smugness in check. “Because I found a diamond dog in the second fire.”

Brine’s ears literally perked up at this. “Dead?”

“Dying,” the guardsmare said simply. “We rushed him to the hospital. I’m not sure of his current condition.”

“That’s very… interesting,” Brine said hesitantly. He looked down and to the side. He began to unconsciously chew on his lower lip.

Belle realized she was seeing something new. Brine was legitimately surprised by this news, and perhaps even a little concerned. The idea was somehow disturbing. Despite their occasional antagonism, Belle had a sort of begrudging respect for the tavern owner. He was always a solid fixture of everyday life, dependable and sure. To see him uncertain was like witnessing a mountain suddenly shift.

“I will ask around,” he said at last, looking up at her again, “and if I find anything useful I will pass it along to you.”

Belle nodded, realizing that that was about as much as she could hope for from Brine. She spoke again, almost as though it were an afterthought. “I also found a tunnel that connected the burned building to the woods east of town. I’m guessing that’s another thing that you are conveniently ignorant of.”

It came out more spiteful than she intended but Brine didn’t appear to notice. Instead he waved a forehoof in the air dismissively. “Oh, the tunnels? Of course I know about them. I’m surprised that you don’t.”

The blatant admission caught Belle by surprise. “Well, I don’t,” she said. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, it’s a part of this town’s history. Do you know how Dock was originally founded?”

“Um, it was the best location for a full harbor for Canterlot, seeing as how the city’s halfway up a mountain.” Belle had heard the story once or twice growing up but had never given it a second thought. What could it possibly have to do with the mysterious tunnel she had found?

“That’s the official story,” Brine said cryptically. “But the truth is a bit more complex…”

He trailed off dramatically, letting his words sink in. Belle stared at him. This had easily been the longest conversation she had ever had with the salty stallion, and she realized that he wasn’t quite what she had always pictured him to be. For one thing he wasn’t as all knowing as she had always pictured him to be. But even more surprisingly, he was a bit of a ham. She smiled softly at the realization.

“Y’see,” Brine continued, not noticing her grin because he had closed his eyes in reminiscence, “Dock was originally a- well, a smuggling town. When ships first began transporting goods along the river to and from Canterlot, the outpost at the base of the mountain was all that was required for the occasional ship. But eventually it got to the point that ships had to line up to unload at the single port. This location here was the widest and slowest flowing point of the river, meaning that the ships could wait their turn here easily. Eventually somepony realized the financial opportunity and built a small town for the idle sailors’ use. This turned into the best place for smugglers to unload merchandise. Soon after the first buildings were put up, the tunnels were dug to allow for the secret transport of goods of a more, shall we say, illicit nature. Eventually, of course, the town became a legitimate port and grew into the great city it is today.”

Belle wasn’t quite sure how he managed to say that last bit with a straight face but somehow he managed it. He finished speaking and looked at her almost expectantly. She took a moment to digest what he had said.

“So the tunnels were closed?” she asked. “They’re no longer in use?”

Brine gave her his more familiar smirk. “Not that I am aware of.”

He was lying. Belle knew he was lying. He probably knew that she knew. But without any proof, it was useless to call him on it. Deciding to let it go, she chose her next words carefully.

“Hypothetically, if they were still in use, what buildings would have access to them?”

The scarred stallion gave another of his unsettling shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. The tunnels were never mapped to my knowledge, although I do know that there are multiple levels, and literally miles worth of passageways underneath the town. Nopony knows every entrance. To be frank, Captain, it’s a huge maze.”

She scowled at him. “There has to be something you can give me. Was there an entrance in the warehouse that burned down?”

He made a show of thinking before answering. “I believe there was at one time, but I believe it was sealed years ago. It certainly wasn’t in use.”

Of course, he probably wouldn’t admit to it now even if it had been in use. She decided to take him at his word, for the time being.

She mulled over all the information she had been given. It was certainly interesting but didn’t help as much as she had hoped, let alone needed. So at least the first fire had been an accident, but she didn’t know how the second had started, or how the lost fillies had met their horrible end. Where did she go from here?

Brine interrupted her train of thought. “Is there anything else, Captain?” he asked, the impatience plain in his voice now. “Only, I do have a business to run. As willing as I am to help you in your investigation, I have responsibilities that must be attended to.”

When she didn’t respond at once, he stood up and began to make his way around his desk and past her. It was only once he had reached the door that she spoke. “This ‘perfectly legal’ shipment at the warehouse, it didn’t happen to include any large animals, did it?”

Brine froze, his hoof resting on the door latch. When he spoke, his voice was strangely even, as though he was forcing it to lack inflection. “Why do you ask?”

Not turning to look at him, the mare answered, “I found evidence that suggests at least two large, possibly dangerous animals are in Dock as we speak. I don’t know if they’re on the loose or being controlled, but either way, they’re involved in this. What do you know?”

She turned then to look at him. His expression was a match for his tone: an obviously forced mask of calm. “Nothing,” he lied.

Then, not waiting for her to respond, he pulled open the door and exited the room, leaving an angry and frustrated guardsmare standing alone in his office.

When Belle left The Hole, the moon had been raised clear of the horizon and the lanterns running the length of the pier had already been lit. Her conversation with Brine had clearly taken longer than she expected. She decided to keep her tinted glasses on her forehead; the soft moonlight had always been easiest on her delicate eyes, and the lantern-light was not strong enough to overpower her vision.

She slowly walked along the pier, not actually paying any attention to her direction. She used the time to mull over the information she had learned from Brine in her head, twisting it and examining it from every angle she could. If the initial fire had truly been an accident, then it was entirely possible that it had nothing to do with the second.

No, two fires within twenty-four hours of each other purely by coincidence? Not a chance. But what was the link between the two? The first was a warehouse harboring smuggled goods of some kind while the second was a normal house long in disuse, locked from the inside.

The tunnels were a link, possibly, although she still didn’t know if the warehouse even had an open entrance to them. But what did that tell her? From the way Brine had spoken, there were plenty of buildings which were similarly connected. The presence of an entrance in both locations didn’t actually lead her to any answers.

What else could possibly link the two fires beyond the tunnels?

Then it struck her, there was evidence that suggested the presence of unusual, large animals in both locations: the wounds on the fillies from the first fire and the different sets of paw prints outside the tunnel near the second fire. The beasts were the only link she could think of. She needed to find them. Whatever they were, they were dangerous.

That led her to wondering how the search party was going. She had every confidence in her guards, and particularly in Sergeant Oak Root, but the task she had assigned them was unlike any they had ever done. It was certainly more dangerous than anything they had attempted in the past, if her suspicions were correct.

She was interrupted from her musings by a loud slamming sound coming from her left. A quick glance showed her the very group she had been thinking about exiting a warehouse. Leading the group was Corporal Keen Edge, a small, lit lantern attached to the front of his light barding shining a small spotlight on the ground before him. His sword was noticeably closer to his mouth than normal, its mouth-grip just a quick turn of the head away.

Behind him strode Sergeant Oak Root, his heavy hooves ringing loudly on the stone pier. A spear had been slung along his back, angled upright so as to avoid any accidents. It was securely but somewhat tentatively fastened so that, if necessary, he could unsling it quickly and wield it with a forehoof.

Last in line came Constable Morning Dew, his horn glowing. Beside him a single arrow hung in the air, surrounded by a matching nimbus of energy; it was one of many filling a quiver which hung from his own light barding. Belle knew from seeing him in the practice yard that he was quite adept at launching an arrow from a bow made of his own magic with remarkable accuracy.

The only thing the three ponies had in common at the moment was their shared expressions of tense edginess. Whether that was because they resented being sent on a mission based on a guess and flimsy evidence, or because of their lack of success, Belle didn’t know.

The relatively bright lights from their lanterns and Morning Dew’s horn made Belle flinch, and she quickly duck her head to resettle her tinted glasses over her delicate eyes. Suitably protected, she faced the trio. “Sergeant Oak Root,” she said authoritatively, “report.”

The ponies started slightly; apparently they hadn’t seen her standing there. Oak recovered so quickly that he that he managed to turn his startled recoil into a sharp salute. Or maybe he simply hadn’t been startled to begin with; it was hard to tell with the stoic stallion.

“Ma’am,” he said in his low baritone voice, “we’ve searched three warehouses along the pier so far. Two empty, one in use. No findings to report.”

Belle accepted the news with a nod. “Very well, carry on, Sergeant. But be on your guard. If my suspicions are correct, then these creatures are large and dangerous. Don’t take this lightly.”

“Of course not, Ma’am!” Oak sounded almost insulted by the mere suggestion.

“We’ve got this, Captain,” Morning Dew interjected confidently.

Oak glared at him briefly but didn’t comment. Belle admired his spirit, but at the same time she was glad he had the sergeant there to temper his eagerness with level-headedness and intelligence. “Very well, then,” she said, still using her commanding voice, “carry on, gentlecolts.”

She made a move to continue walking when Oak Root spoke up again. “Begging your pardon, Ma’am, but Sergeant Emerald bade me tell you that she insists that you follow your own instructions.”

Belle hesitated, confused by the statement.

With a straight face but a knowing look in his eyes, Sergeant Oak clarified, “About getting a decent rest tonight, and being ready for tomorrow.”

The captain sighed. There was still so much to do. She had hoped to check in on the hospital, and find out the status of the injured diamond dog; to check the ship manifests for all the incoming traffic of the last two days, perhaps get an idea about who had brought in the smuggled goods; and, eventually, write up her report.

Noting her hesitancy, Oak Root added firmly, “I would also strongly recommend that, Ma’am. We shall watch over the city.”

She looked up to his face. She saw his determination and his confidence. He was right. She knew that he was more than capable of handling things for a few hours. Besides, she needed to get some rest. She might have slept for a good chunk of the morning in her office, but she still felt exhausted. It felt like more had happened to her within the last twenty-four hours than had happened within the last two years. Plus, a small and guilty part of her added, she hadn’t seen Lemon Sherbet in what felt like forever. She needed to go home.

“Hmm, very well,” she said with a begrudging nod. “But if anything comes up, I’m to be informed at once, regardless of the time. Is that understood?”

All three stallions threw her a salute, although Keen Edge’s was slightly slower than the others’. Belle moved on, turning the next corner, and three guards disappeared from view.

When Belle reached her home, the lights in the shop had once again been put out already. She wearily trudged up the side steps and tried to open the door. To her surprise, it was actually locked. She reached back to her saddlebags for the key, and only then realized that she was still wearing her barding. She had completely forgotten to return to the Guard House and return it; she hadn’t even signed out for the evening. She must be more preoccupied that she had thought.

She had actually turned in order to go back to the Guard House when the door suddenly clicked and swung open, revealing her husband standing there. He quickly looked her over, taking in the fact that she still had her barding on and gave her a gentle smile. He stepped back and gestured for her to enter. The debate inside her mind on whether she should do so or first return to the Guard House and finish her duties lasted all of half a second. She gladly entered and accepted a much-needed hug from her husband. If he minded the awkwardness of doing so while she was still in her rough barding, he didn’t comment.

He gently led her into the kitchen. “I’m sorry I never came home last night,” she said. “I hope you got my message at least.”

Lemon ducked his head in acknowledgement as he drew her up to the table, softly but insistently pushing her down onto the cushion in front of it. “I did,” he said. “I’m sorry you’re goin’ through all this, Belle. It must’ve been hard, findin’ those poor foals like that.”

“Not nearly as hard as it was for their parents.” Belle let her head rest on the table and closed her eyes with a sigh, remembering the pain she had seen on the faces of Peach and Ink and their husbands when she had delivered the horrible news.

Her ears perked up when she heard the clattering sound of plates and bowls. Looking up, she saw Lemon was throwing together a quick meal for her, his horn alight with magic.

Her stomach, which had only been satiated once that day (and with a three-bean taco no less), made its approval known fervently. In no time at all a large bowl of leafy greens mixed with sunflower petals and topped with three small cherry tomatoes was placed before her. Her favorite salad.

“I love you,” she exclaimed.

He chuckled. “Now, now, that’s jus’ your stomach talkin’,” he joked.

Belle tossed her head, causing her tinted glasses to fly off her face and land on the kitchen table next to her bowl of salad. With her eyes uncovered she looked into his. “I mean it, Lemon,” she said softly, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled and winked at her. “I know,” he said, “I love you too.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Now why don’t you have some dinner and tell me all about it.”

And so Belle fell to with a will. She had to force herself to eat slowly and with small, manageable bites. In between mouthfuls she told him everything that had happened since they had parted at the dock the previous night. She left nothing out; not her theories concerning the hypothetical monsters, not her confrontation with the major, and not even her discussion with and realizations about Brine.

As she spoke and ate, Lemon used his magic to carefully loosen and remove her barding, placing it on the floor in a corner. Then, after retrieving a set of brushes with varying bristle lengths, he began to brush out her coat and mane using short, even strokes.

When she finished both tale and meal, she again laid her head on the smooth tabletop and closed her eyes contentedly. She felt relaxed for the first time in what felt like weeks. He paused in his brushing to lean forward and huskily whisper in her ear, “Would you care for some… dessert?”

She blushed and stammered incoherently, caught off guard by the question. A few seconds later she heard the sound of a platter deposited on the table before her. Surprised, she looked up to see a large bowl of ice cream topped with chocolate syrup and candied rose petals just a few inches from the end of her muzzle. Her ears laid back and her blush only deepened, this time in embarrassment. He kissed her forehead. “Enjoy,” he whispered with a soft laugh.

She did.

The next morning arrived far too quickly for Belle. She blinked as the sunlight shone through the second floor window and splashed across her face. She quickly had to clench her eyes and turn her head to protect her eyes. Her movement didn’t go unnoticed since a few seconds later she felt the familiar form of her tinted glasses slide onto her face. Opening her now-protected eyes she saw Lemon standing next to their bed with an understanding smile. She blushed again, quite thankful that none of her guards could see her now.

After a quick bath, she found that Lemon had a small breakfast ready, knowing that she preferred to eat sparingly this early in the day. When she had finished, he helped her back into her barding. She felt significantly better than she had the previous night, ready to face her challenges with a fresh mind.

“Be careful out there, Belle,” he said as he saw her to the door, his voice unusually anxious. “If there really are some monsters out there, then I know you’ll be the one fightin’ ‘em. Just, come back home to me, safe and whole.”

She kissed him. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said, trying to sound confident and reassuring. “After all, I’ve got the top notch Dock Guard with me.”

He chuckled. “Alright, well see if you can have it wrapped up by dinner time for once, I’m gettin’ tired of making two dinners a night,” he teased.

She kissed him one more time and then turned, navigating down the steps, and out onto the street, turning her head for the Guard House. It was a struggle not to look back, but she managed.

Her job was a dangerous one to be sure, now more so than usual. She knew that Lemon worried about her, although he rarely let it show, and that his fears were not entirely unfounded. It was entirely possible that one day she would be seriously hurt, maybe even killed; yet he never voiced a complaint about it and always fully supported her. She wished she could allay his fears but knew that she couldn’t truthfully do so. They both would rather face a difficult truth than try to live a lie. They had talked about it, fretted about it, but ultimately acknowledged it. This was her job, her life, and Lemon accepted it. And she loved him for it.

She shook her head. This wasn’t the time to be worrying about that kind of thing. She had a job to do and she needed to focus on that. It seemed likely that Oak Root and the others hadn’t found anything the previous night, or at least nothing worth interrupting Belle’s night at home. Something she was rather grateful for all things considered. At this point, it seemed like their best lead was the wounded diamond dog, so that needed to be her focus. Hopefully he had managed to pull through the night and would be able to answer some questions soon. She also needed to get the prints she had photographed identified, which meant a trip to Eris, the veterinarian. Plus there was the usual mundane paperwork and regular daily tasks that needed to be completed.

All in all, it looked like it was going to be a full day.

A few minutes later she was trotting up to the Guard House’s front door, ready for the day to come. She pushed open the door to the familiar sight of Emerald Grass sitting behind the main desk. Upon seeing Belle, the Sergeant rose and looked about to say something but Belle overrode her immediately, eager to get to her work.

“Good morning, Em,” she said briskly as she walked past the desk towards her office, “I’m going to need the reports from Sergeant Oak and his team from last night. I also need to know if there’s been any news from Snowflake concerning that diamond dog. We’re going to need to relieve her soon so I’ll need the manifest.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Emerald whispered in her large voice, “well, the manifest is already on your desk, as are the reports from last night. There hasn’t been any word from Corporal Snowflake. And, um, there was one other thing…” Her voice trailed off when Belle entered her office.

Belle stopped short, backing up slightly in surprise. Sitting inside her office was a young unicorn mare that she had never seen before with a book levitating in front of her. The intruder looked up from her reading to glance over at Belle with a slightly anxious look on her face but she gave a genuine smile. Before she could speak, however, Belle ducked out of her office to glare at Em.

“There’s somepony in my office,” she hissed to the large unicorn. “Why is there a stranger in my office?”

“Um, that’s what I wanted to tell you,” Em whispered, trying to make her voice even lower. “She said she’s from Canterlot in response to the mayor’s request for assistance.”

“Already?” Belle whispered angrily. “But that was only yesterday! I didn’t expect anypony yet, and I don’t have time to babysit some Canterlot milksop now. I’ve got too much to do as it is!”

“I’m sorry, Belle,” Em whispered. “She just showed up about an hour ago asking to see you. When I told her that she’d have to wait, she didn’t seem to mind.”

Belle sighed, placing a forehoof over her eyes in exasperation. “Alright, alright. I’ll figure something out to keep her busy so I can do my job.”

Em gave her a sympathetic look before returning to her desk. Belle squared her shoulders, prepared her most authoritative expression, and entered her office again, this time prepared for what she’d find.

The young mare was still sitting there, the book still levitating in front of her. She looked a little confused, but if she was insulted by Belle’s reaction, she didn’t show it. Belle took in her appearance.

She was a young mare, barely more than a filly it seemed. She was small in stature, about the same basic size as Belle herself. Her mane and tail were evenly cut with matching straight and very basic designs, clearly more for simple function than style. Her short, fluted horn split her mane into two even halves. She had a plain set of saddlebags covering her flanks, obscuring her cutie mark from Belle. She had large, expressive eyes that were looking into Belle’s own, through the tinted glasses. The young unicorn raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Belle’s cursory examination.

“How can I help you, miss?” Belle asked.

“Are you Captain Donna Belle?” asked the young unicorn in a light, slightly anxious voice. She sounded educated but lacked the snobbish Canterlot accent that Belle had always associated with Canterlot ‘elite.’

Belle flinched at the use of her full name. What had her parents been thinking? “It’s just Captain Belle, please.”

The young mare smiled. “Ah, okay then. Well, I’ve been sent by Princess Celestia in response to your mayor’s request.”

Belle’s mind reeled at that simple statement. The princess? Why would the princess herself get involved in this kind of thing? That didn’t make any sense at all. Surely the Canterlot Guard or some other group would have been the ones to respond, there didn’t seem to be any way a simple request like this would reach the princess herself. The suspicious Guard Instinct inside her perked up, there was more to this than meets the eye.

The young mare, who had paused when she saw Belle’s reaction to her statement, continued, “My name is Twilight Sparkle. I’m here to help find your monsters.”

Author's Notes:

Once again, a huge thanks to my editor Expository Brony. The man is awesome.

As always, MLP and its characters are © Hasbro and Lauren Faust respectively.

All OCs, however, are purely mine.