“Hey, Twi,” Doug greets with a cheerful wave, seated at the table in the Carrot House’s combination kitchen and dining room. He’s surprised by the cold shoulder he gets in return, spoon stopping halfway to his mouth. “Something wrong?”

Twilight doesn’t quite glare at her stallion; after all, she woke up next to him and performed her marely duties. She grunts as she stands next to the table and grabs her breakfast of apple butter lightly sprinkled with oats and little apples chunks. She’ll get a more balanced second breakfast in an hour; she’s packing on the pounds even faster than when she got her cutie mark. Doctor Sharps and Celestia assure her it is a healthy weight gain, what with the foals and alicornization, and Doug… appreciates her increased size with increased vigor.

When the cold withers approach doesn’t work, as he just looks hurt that she didn’t reply, she huffs out, “You couldn’t tell?”

Doug sighs, sets his spoon down and rubs at his temple and creased brow. “Look, if it’s about yesterday-”

“What else would it be about?” Twilight snaps, then stuffs her face with apples before she can say anything she’ll regret. They are delicious, they always are, but not enough to quell her temper. After all, Doug thought (or at least strongly implied) they were somehow lesser for not having developed better weapons, but that isn’t the pony stance on fighting at all!

“-Then I’m sorry I made certain assumptions about pony technology,” Doug continues testily.

“‘Certain assumptions’?” Twilight echoes through a mouthful of apple-y goodness. She swallows it, unchewed bits and all. “You think we don’t understand basic laws of physics!”

“That’s-”

“Like how a lighter mass will accelerate to a higher velocity if you apply the same force on it as a heavier one!”

“-Not true,” Doug finishes when Twilight takes a breath.

“No?” Twilight growls. “Then is it that we don’t understand how, for objects with similar momentum, the faster and lighter one will cause more extensive damage to a pony’s body? Unless you make it too small and then you’re just poking holes that you hope hit something vital. Or maybe you think we don’t know how to accelerate small objects to go really, really fast?”

“It’s not that you don’t know about any of these concepts,” Doug admits. “In theory you can do all those things. But in practice, or in a mass-produced manner that anypony, not just a select number of unicorns, can perform?”

“Ugh, not this again,” Rainbow Dash moans as she comes in through the front door, shaking droplets of morning cloud from her wings. She steps up to Doug, not quite between the two, but interposing enough to draw his attention. “Dude, don’t you know when to stop digging?”

“My name would suggest otherwise,” Doug returns, though belies the seriousness of his words with a quick tussle of the chromatic mane. He looks glad to be freed, if briefly, from Twilight’s glare, the alicorn showing no intention of dropping the argument.

Rainbow Dash snorts in amusement. “Alright, well, if you need another shovel, I’m here to help.”

“Rainbow Dash,” Twilight chides as the pegasus stands on the opposite side of the table. She’s upset at the pegasus for not taking her side of the argument, here or yesterday, when the combat characteristics of cannons was being discussed. On an intellectual level she can understand why: pegasi are certainly more pugilistic, what with their history and the Wonderbolts, and a chip on their horn (plucked primaries? What would be the pegasi expression?) from being second (well, third, counting alicorns) best fighters among the pony breeds. But that just makes her argument that they shouldn’t focus on combat all the more necessary!

“What?” Rainbow Dash serves a heaping portion of oats for herself. She’s been gaining weight, though far less than Twilight, even with her constant exercise and training. “I’ll lend you a wing if you need it.” She grins, sly and impish. “I’m just here to pour kerosene on this fire. I like my stallion hot and bothered.” She glances at Doug. “That’s what you use, right?”

“Gasoline,” Doug corrects, “though kerosene works, too.” He turns to Twilight, offering her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I confused innocence with ignorance.” He ignores Rainbow’s disappointed sigh, hoping to draw something from the stone-faced alicorn. “Better?”

“It misses the point.” Twilight rolls her eyes as Rainbow Dash perks back up. “You’ve played Atlas of Allies, as well as Ogres and Oubliettes. Did you think we just, I don’t know, fought by slapping at each other with our hooves?”

“I’ll admit,” Doug concedes, chuckling at the evoked image, “the thought did cross my mind. In my defense, your guards use spears as their weapon of choice. The highest tech ranged weapons I’ve seen are Pinkie Pie’s cannons, which hardly qualify, and a mouth-drawn bow. Mouth-drawn.” He throws up his hands in exasperation. “And then it’s a giant leap to Celestia conjuring a fifty-foot wide column of pure plasma.”

“Don’t forget,” Rainbow Dash adds between chews and smothering a long piece of bread with apple butter. “Unicorn cheats.”

“Exactly my point,” Doug agrees. “Why would you need to develop anything better - especially something your competitors might use - when you can just fry brains and zap everypony with your horn lasers?”

Twilight huffs, setting aside when she did exactly that, if only in an alternate timeline. “We wouldn’t-”

“And roast some uppity pegasi?”

“Mm,” Rainbow Dash happily moans, rubbing her taut tummy. She’s finished her breakfast and looking to snag some more, preferably anything from Doug’s plate, especially if she has to bump into him to get to it. “Pegasus barbeque.”

“Howdy, y’all,” Applejack greets as she joins the three. She has a bit of a scowl, though tries to hide it with a grin at Rainbow Dash. “What’re ya lookin’ ta barbeque?” She flicks her mane at a few cookbooks along the wall, mostly there for Doug and his more varied and exotic tastes. “Ah’ve got a few family recipes if’n ya want.”

“I believe the correct question would be,” Rainbow Dash amends, shifting to a near perfect imitation of Applejack’s voice, “‘who’ are ya lookin’ ta barbeque.” She smirks at Applejack’s confusion.

“‘Whom’, technically,” Twilight Sparkle corrects, then exasperatedly shakes her head. “But that’s not the point!”

“Agreed,” Applejack concurs with a firm nod, already recovered.

“Thank you,” Twilight Sparkle says with a huff, glad somepony finally agrees with her.

“We should be askin’ Rares,” Applejack continues. “Or Trixie. They’d know more ‘bout unicorn preferences, if’n they like leaner cuts or somethin’ a bit stockier.” She shakes her shapely flanks against Rainbow Dash’s, sizing them up like prize apples.

“You realize,” Twilight deadpans, “that I used to be a unicorn?”

Applejack shrugs. “Maybe your tastes changed after your ascension?”

Twilight groans, holding her hooves above her head in surrender as her head flops against the table.

Applejack chuckles, nuzzling the alicorn before taking her spot between Doug and Rainbow Dash with a plate mostly consisting of apple cores. “Ah blame Doug.”

“Agreed,” Rainbow Dash chimes in as Doug gives a sheepish shrug.

“What can I say? All you little ponies are so delightfully delicious.” Doug tussles Applejack’s ear, trying to get her to perk up. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothin’ much.” Applejack tries to eat, but Doug continues tussling her ear, not letting her go. “Oh, fine. Ah just got a letter from Brick Shoes, Applebaum’s landlord.” Her scowl returns in full force. “Said Applebaum an’ Totem ain’t come back yet. Can ya believe she blamed mah filly for bein’ a bad influence on her precious colt?!”

“Yes,” Doug jibes, earning himself a swat from the heavy blond mane.

Applejack steadily gets more stirred up. “She said Applebaum oughta know better than ta go gallivantin’ all ‘cross Equestria with some bitless unicorns, chasin’ dreams an’ wishes. She don’t blame her precious little colt, good little darlin’ he is, ‘cause he jus’ does what he’s told. Ah’ll spare ya the part ‘bout bad breedin’, but-”

“Bad breeding?” Doug repeats, his scowl matching Applejack’s. A series of cracks rattle through the room, both Twilight and Rainbow Dash bending and flexing their wings in a manner most menacing.

“Not you, per se,” Applejack concedes, realizing how automatically her herdmates moved to defend their stallion, even just his reputation. “But in a way, yeah. How her colt needs somepony who ain’t always curious, who ain’t always wanderin’ around. Somepony stable.” Applejack sighs as she looks out the window. “Ah’ve got a hard time faultin’ her for that. Ah know Ah sure like things nice and stable here at the farm.”

“Hard as that stability may be to come by,” Doug says, seemingly glad the animosity between Applejack and this Brick Shoes mare seems to be dying down. “You’ve seen how our nice life on the farm has been changing over these last few years. We’ve gone from farm and weather work while chasing after foals to becoming the Elements of Harmony and everything with the Princesses.”

“Eeyup. Sure was simpler back then.” Applejack nods, then asks after a brief lull, focusing on Doug and keeping her face straight, “So, what’cha talkin’ ‘bout? How come we don’t have better ways’a killin’ each other?”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Doug trails off with a grimace.

“Actually, when you put it like that, it does a good job of clarifying things.” Twilight grins at Applejack. “Thank you.” She turns to Doug as Applejack nods, mouth full. She asks, in her best Stalliongrad accent, “Who eez Equestria’s oldest enemy?”

“The Storm King,” Doug fires back, straightfaced.

“Before that,” Twilight Sparkle rejects, rolling her eyes.

Doug thinks for a second. “Lord Tirek?”

“Before that.”

“The changelings?”

“Before that.”

“King Sombra?”

“Before that!”

“...The changelings again?”

“Before that!!”

Twilight stamps a hoof in frustration as Applejack and Rainbow Dash desperately hold in their laughter. “I’m talking about an enemy who was there at the founding of Equestria!”

Doug gasps. “You can’t possibly mean…”

Twilight nods, sure and serious. “The Windigos. Spirits of disharmony, fueled by animosity and hatred.”

“Oh.” Doug glances at Rainbow Dash and Applejack. “I thought you meant the earth ponies and pegasi.”

“Urgh.” Twilight sinks against the table again, rubbing at her temples.

“You have to give her props for trying,” Rainbow Dash consoles.

“Eeyup.” Applejack thumps her head against Doug’s side, sending him lurching forward from the heavy hit. “She don’t got our experience dealin’ with ya.”

Doug focuses on Twilight instead of the instigating earth pony. “And these Windigos encouraged you to work together with your enemies, or competitors, rather than all perish. Or, should I say, your lack of cooperation would cause you to perish.”

“Precisely.” Twilight meets Doug’s gaze, her head still sideways on the table. “As Celestia would say, ‘What is an enemy, but a Friend who has not yet grasped our hoof in Friendship?’”

“So your goal is not to kill your enemies,” Doug rephrases, encouraging Twilight with a rub of her ear, “but to convert them to your way of thinking.”

“And I don’t know about you,” Twilight concludes with a smirk, pushing into the loving caress, “but I’ve never convinced a cadaver to change her ways.”

“Have you tried?” Doug gives her a playful tweak.

“I’m about to.” She growls, matching Rainbow Dash for impish mischievousness, and twists her head to snag his fingers in her mouth. They’re salty from his sweat, mixed with apples and her own scent. “Om nom nom!”

“If you think that’s delicious...” Doug grins, a leering look in his eyes. Twilight can barely hold in her snort. How is he ready to go again? And she knows he isn’t just teasing, either.

They all glance up as the front door opens; the latest visitor is unexpected, though certainly not unwelcome.

“Tia?” Doug greets the radiant alicorn with a quick wave; Twilight releases her stallion with a slow lick, reveling in his quick intake of breath, while the rest of the ponies give respectful nods. “What’s the occasion?”

Next Chapter: Ch. 117 - Combat Focus, Part Two Estimated time remaining: 13 Hours, 30 Minutes