“You’re sure about this?” Doug asks Twilight, worry etched on his flat face, back against his favorite tree and open notebook propped against his knee. He’s shirtless, glistening with a light sheen of fresh sweat from working with Applejack, wearing shorts that conceal his flanks and a pair of sturdy jackboots laid off to the side. It’s a perfect vantage point to watch the fillies and colts play in the field between Sweet Apple Acres and Ponyville. Their six on six soccer game is just starting to heat up as Diamond Tiara boots the ball all the way upfield, stymying yet another of Rumble’s aggressive rushes, Hedge unable to keep up with the pegasus colt. It might even have gone in if the goalpost didn’t suddenly reposition itself.

Twilight sighs at his obstinance. “You never give Applejack or Rainbow Dash this kind of pushback.”

Doug merely grits his teeth, his head slowly lowering towards his knees.

She lays ponyloaf next to him with the slim hope that the physical proximity will lessen his resistance. His apple-tattooed hand meanders its way across her saddlebags and under her wing, which she takes as a good sign and gladly lifts to better accommodate him. “I’m hoping we’ll be done by tonight, at least the initial survey.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Doug stops idly twirling the pencil in his other hand. While she finds his deftness fascinating - manual motions can be much more interesting than those performed with magic, even if the magic can perform more fantastic feats - the stoppage is rarely a good sign.

“...The Everfree?” she finishes. The foreboding forest stretches to the south, and from their hill they can see the tops of the Castle of the Two Sisters poking out among the treetops. His knuckles go white around the pencil, and she doubts she’ll find him looking that way. “There’ll be seven of us. And it’ll be during the day, not like when the others and I went to…”

She trails off, her eyes slowly widening at the realization. The scars encircling his hand stand stark against the three blue diamonds. He’s not worried about the journey, he’s worried about what they found at their destination, and what happened to the foals he is keeping a watchful eye on. Though he’s probably worried about the journey, too; the Everfree Forest is not to be trifled with under the best of circumstances.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, hating how she dredged up memories best left undisturbed. She moves to get up. “I didn’t mean-”

“Come here.” Doug pulls her over, the hand under her wing giving him excellent leverage. She gladly flops on top of him, staring at him with watery, soulful eyes. He hugs her close, and she does her best to hug back from the somewhat awkward position. “I know you didn’t mean to. I’m frustrated with myself.”

“You don’t have to go,” Twilight whispers, ears folding against her head. She squeezes tighter when he doesn’t answer.

“I’ll go,” he says, forcing a smile and squeezing back. “The best way to get over your fears is to face them, right?”

“~You’ve got to giggle at the ghosties~,” Twilight sings, snuggling against him. She’s glad to be there to reassure her stallion, even as she wonders how often this fear afflicts him. Every time he’s with Luna? He didn’t seem affected the last time they shared his bed together. Maybe it’s when his foals are around. She likes how her stallion views himself as a protector, even as his mares are more suited to the task.

“Seven of us, huh?” Doug asks as he gets up, checking the sky. Cadance stands out while her Wonderbolt retinue blends into the cloudy blue, all circling leisurely. Rainbow Dash rests on one of the larger clouds, tail lashing from side to side, panting as she readies herself for another set of sprints. “Rarity staying on the ground?”

“Something about not wanting to plummet through the air a second time. I transported her there already.” Twilight winks as she extracts herself from his embrace, dropping to let him mount her withers. Teleporting that far wasn’t the easiest, but flying will let her rest her horn. She tests her legs and makes sure he is balanced against her full saddlebags before taking to the air, his grip on her neck and mane good and tight. With her earth-pony imbued strength she doubts he could strangle her even if he tried, though she doesn’t want to put that to the test. His awkward weight gets easier to manage every day; she’s not sure to attribute that primarily to her slowly growing stature, her familiarity and skill with flying (with plenty of thanks to Rainbow Dash), or her rapidly increasing thaumic potential. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Doug replies, thighs squeezing her as tight as he can. He yells at the fillies, getting curt waves of acknowledgement from Diamond Tiara and Lemon, “Make sure to pick everything up!”

“I do have to make one stop,” Twilight Sparkle cautions, glancing back at with a reassuring smile. She feigns not noticing how the game stops so the players can watch her ascend, steady beats of strong wings propelling her higher and higher. Maybe she should have Rarity craft a special saddle; she can feel him slipping against the base of her wings during the vertical parts, his breath coming in shorter gasps as he grabs hold of her mane. “Fluttershy asked me to update the rocs.”

Doug squints as he scans the ground for suspicious boulders. Not spying any, he asks, “The giant flying birds?”

“Yup!” Her magic pulls out a thick packet of ‘Wanted Alive’ posters depicting Gallus, Silverstream, and Doug, explicitly saying to spare instead of hunt down. “They should know not to hunt pegasi and to keep an eye for anypony lost in the Everfree. But griffons, dragons, any other intruders?” She grimaces at the necessity, at least in the past. Hopefully they can change that perception, too, but change only happens so quickly, but it remains to be seen how thoroughly their reforms will be accepted. “Too many tried to hide out in the forest and use it as a base for raids.”

Doug merely grips her tighter. Cadance, Rainbow Dash, and the two Wonderbolts stay high altitude, coasting southeast towards the castle, while she and Doug stay low and take a detour east and away from the heart of the Everfree Forest. Twisted trunks wave gnarled branches full of dark green leaves, leaving the ground shrouded in shadow except where sunlit paths made by marauding creatures criss and cross. They follow the river, towards the waterfalls and the Rambling Rock Ridge where the rocs make their nests. It would be a fantastic sightseeing trip if not for the many sets of eight beady eyes peering up at them from gloomy traps.

“You’re doing a great job back there,” Twilight remarks, the press of his thighs against her back becoming a welcome presence. “You seem a lot more comfortable with flying!”

Doug snorts. “That sounds like I won the ‘Most Improved’ trophy.”

“Oh, I don’t mean it like that at all!” Twilight quickly reassures. “I was just thinking, if it wouldn’t be too awkward, about getting fitted for a saddle.”

“...Huh,” Doug says, glancing down at her back as if trying to figure out where it would go. There isn’t a lot of space between her wings and where he neatly slots in, unless the saddle rides halfway up her neck.

“I know you haven’t talked a lot about how humans ride your sky gliders,” Twilight continues, hoping to keep him at ease.

“Horses,” Doug corrects.

Twilight frowns at the taboo word. She doesn’t care for the profession, most don’t, but sometimes mares get lonely and there aren’t always enough stallions to go around. “What did I say?”

“Sky gliders,” Doug says, Twilight still confused. “I’m referring to bigger ponies.”

“Oh! Right.” Twilight coughs. “Rarity explained to me once about what the saddle means in High Equestrian society. It denotes that a mare is unavailable, or spoken for, which is quite possibly the exact opposite of what it means for anypony else. Well, except for the Saddle Arabians. As their name suggests, the saddle is an integral part of their attire for both mares and stallions. The stallion’s saddle is more ornamental than anything; they’re a bit more, hmm, strict about that. Their saddles flare toward the tail, compared to a mare’s flare on the left and right.”

“Okay,” Doug says, though Twilight can hear the unstated ‘what does this have to do with anything?’

“So, um, my question would be, what kind of saddle would your…” She mulls the word in her mouth before reminding herself she is referring to their common ancestor and not the harlot, “horses wear?”

Doug takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Twilight wants to fill the void with speculation and guesses, having to bite her tongue to keep from doing so. “Something to make it more comfortable for the steed and rider, like the seat of a chair. Soft leather, a blanket, to distribute the weight over more than just here.” He slaps at his thigh before immediately moving back to holding on to her mane. “Stirrups for our feet. And harnesses, straps to keep it from shifting around.”

“That sounds very close to the Saddle Arabian style.” Twilight gulps. “It’s very… restrictive, by design. Would you…” She gnaws at her lip, wondering what she would do if Doug says yes. “Would you want me to wear a bit and bridle as well?”

“Am I telling you where to go, where to fly?” Doug shrugs dismissively. “The only thing I would want is some sort of buckle, a way to keep from slipping off. Not that I don’t love holding on to you.” He gives her a quick rub along her neck.

Twilight sighs in relief. A simple saddle would be a lot less work to haul around than an entire chariot, especially if their excursions are less than optimally planned. Celestia and Luna might want one as well, and theirs wouldn’t need to be as adjustable as hers. Maybe Rainbow Dash would want one too? The pegasus has been itching to give it a try after she rode around with him on the ground in Klugetown, working her forelegs more than normal and practicing hauling clouds with the straps in weird locations that make sense if she was trying to imitate the human’s weight. She sets her mind to designing a saddle for each of them, though she’d leave it to Rarity to work on the embellishments.

It takes nearly an hour, about as much time as it takes to fly to Canterlot, before the lush forest turns to brown rock, stark and uninhabited but for the occasional shrub brush and hare. The ground slopes, up and up, though never steep enough to require climbing or high enough to be thought a mountain.

Twilight thinks he has fallen asleep until he casually remarks, “You know, I wouldn’t mind living out here.”

“Here?” Twilight frowns at the thought of living in such a barren wasteland, especially compared to her home in Ponyville. She tries to find what intrigues him about the area, failing. “Why?”

“The view, for starters,” Doug says wistfully. “There’s so much potential.”

Twilight has to admit the view is nice; as they climb, they can see the entirety of the Everfree Forest and lands beyond. If they were on the other side of the Rambling Rock Ridge they could see the Celestial Sea. ‘Potential’, though, just sounds like a nice way of saying there’s nothing there. “Canterlot has similar views,” she counters, the lonely spire standing out among the mountains of the Frozen North.

“Yeah,” Doug admits, “but it’s a bit crowded there, from what I hear.”

“Around you?” Twilight twists to plant a kiss on his chest, right at the center of the Solar crest. “It’s always going to be a bit crowded.”

Doug laughs, ruffling her mane, not that he could muss it any worse than the wind. She can understand why Rainbow Dash keeps the top short and rarely bothers brushing. At least he won’t object to helping her straighten it out. “Why didn’t Fluttershy want to make this trip?” he asks, obviously changing the subject.

“It is a bit far.” Twilight looks up; their targets can be seen lazily circling around craggy cliffs, looking like normal sized eagles. She knows better, given the vast distance, and a shiver of fear travels down her spine at the thought of them ignoring their instructions and attacking. It isn’t unheard of, especially recently, and she has no intention of being caught and ‘ransomed’ for twice her weight in meat. Even if that is a price she would gladly pay were she lost in the woods.

“She’s made long trips before,” Doug says, legs squeezing as one of the small brown blurs twists in a dive toward them. “Helping fruit bats find a home, resettle overpopulated frogs and predators, or just to help an animal in distress that one of her birds warned her about.” He points at the rapidly approaching roc, voice trembling. “Is that?”

“Yes.” Twilight rolls her withers, straightening up to an imperious position as best she can while maintaining altitude. “Head up. Don’t show fear; they might be big, but they know the pecking order.”

“Still,” Doug says, and she can hear the ‘I don’t want to get pecked by that’ behind the word. The building-sized tawny bird could have plucked both goals from the field where Doug’s foals played and gathered every player between black talons as long and sharp as spears. The golden beak is strong and sharp enough to pierce dragon scales, and her feathers are reportedly resistant to magic and fire. Not that she has any intention of harming the giant creature, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

When the roc is nearly three hundred yards out and hurtling toward them a loud screech pierces the air, half greeting and half terror-inducing hunting cry. As soon as it ends Twilight booms back in the Royal Canterlot, “Fried Chicken!!”

With a second screeching cry, this one half-hearted and full of disappointment, the roc spreads her massive wings, the gusts as it backpedals nearly enough to send Twilight spiraling out of control. She grits her teeth as she weathers the windstorm, knowing any sign of weakness might be interpreted as ‘we need saving!’ in the eyes of the opportunistic predators. The roc comes to a stop and hovers a dozen yards away, if it can be called ‘hovering’ where every flap of the field-sized wings takes it up and down two stories. Rage smolders in her green eyes, obviously not liking the comparison to the domesticated fowl.

“I am altering the deal,” Twilight states, sharp and brooking no disagreement. A third screech comes, short and ending with an upswing like she is asking a question. Twilight lifts the stack of posters, which the roc’s beady green eye (for all that she could fit inside it) follows closely. “I have here a list of additions to those to whom no harm is to come. If you see them flying about, they are not to be harried or harassed. If they are in danger, treat them as you would anypony.”

A raspberry glow floats the posters over, the roc gingerly plucking them from the air with two wickedly sharp talons. One eye studies the pictures, the other warily watching the alicorn and the strange creature on her back. A deep, unhappy rumble roils from her throat.

“You have faithfully hunted those who would hunt us,” Twilight acknowledges with a curt nod. “Dragon, griffon, Arimaspi. For that, you have our thanks and more. But times are changing; soon I shall further alter the deal.”

A keening cry sets her teeth to rattling. It doesn’t take Fluttershy to realize she is upset.

“You will neither be neglected nor forgotten,” Twilight reassures. “And we know there is no love lost between dragon and roc. But it is our solemn wish that all - griffon, dragon, roc, pony, and all others - may live in Harmony together. Someday soon, I pray.”

Twilight can see the calculation in those great green eyes. The mulling over of what it might mean to live in peace, to not need to be prepared to swarm an ancient dragon who, though individually more powerful, lives and travels in isolation. If the dragons did learn Friendship, and coordinated their attacks? The rocs would be wiped out to a bird. She has no desire to see that happen, no more than the roc does.

“Let Kanahish and her brood know as well,” Twilight orders, the giant spiders as liable as the rocs to snag an unwary flier.

The roc returns a dejected cry before turning and flying away. Twilight can’t help but share her sorrow; after all, if her cutie mark was made obsolete by some advance, especially one out of her control, she certainly wouldn’t be happy about it.

“Good job,” Doug cheers, rubbing her neck in just the way she likes.

“Thanks,” Twilight whispers back, wishing she felt better about it. But changes needed to happen, and that means incompatible cultures and ways of life being trimmed, much like pruning removes unproductive branches from a tree. She’ll make certain nocreature is left behind, or at the very least given the opportunity to follow.

Next Chapter: Ch. 140 - Inspired Learning, Part Four Estimated time remaining: 9 Hours, 51 Minutes