Honour Bound

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"You sure ain't making this easy, Honour."

Sergeant Alexander Castlerook wasn’t very happy with the corporal. His frustration wasn’t completely unwarranted; after all, Honour Bound had never really flat-out refused his offer to go back to Fillydelphia. She’d been waffling, sure, and she’d mentioned wanting to finish her tour of duty with the Royal Engineer, yes, but she hadn't said 'no'. Which meant he was well within his rights to think she was going to say 'yes'.

But she also remembered that he'd left open the possibility of living somewhere else, too, and that was all she was asking for. He ought to have remembered that, and she could just point it out.

But his surprising reply to her honest admission about Fillydelphia being the hang-up, which hadn't been easy for her to do, put Honour in a combative mood. "Is it supposed to be easy?"

Castlerook, his helmet polished to a show-ready shine, lifted an eyebrow. "With you? No, I suppose it wasn't ever gonna be." He sighed. "Nothing was ever easy with you, even growin' up."

Honour frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

His expression softened. "Just that with you, it was always about big changes. You never did anything small."

‘Never did anything small?’

Planting her plot on the floor, Honour folded her forehooves in front of her chest. The low cut of her Gala dress made her tuft stick up a bit when she did. "Now you're accusing me of being a drama queen?"

Lifting a forehoof, he drew her back down onto her four hooves and led her up the hallway, further away from his stationed squad of guards and the blind palace hallway corner they were controlling. "No, damn it. I'm saying you're always about extremes. Whatever you're doing right now, it's always the best, and whatever you were doing before, it was the worst, and the difference between them is like night and day."

With a rueful expression, he looked her up and down. He'd definitely never seen her like this, in a short-cropped, lacy red dress that left little to the imagination and focused attention on curves which Honour was never particularly confident of having, let alone showing. As uncomfortable as it was to make the admission, Honour’s lascivious outfit was making things even more awkward.

Castlerook shook his head. "Whenever you get fed up with one thing you always have to go and make a complete about-face to do something completely different."

Honour knew her life had taken some funny turns, but from the way he was putting it, she’d been lurching from crisis to crisis. With her brow still furrowed, she sat down on her haunches once more, allowing just the tiniest scrap of red fabric to splay outwards on the floor. Once again, she crossed her forelegs, though she tried to minimize the tuft-push this time.

Castlerook knew Honour well enough to take her stance as a cue to continue. "I could start with when you decided to up and join the VIP corps on account of Fillydelphia no longer being to your liking. Never mind that it's a big city and there's plenty of ways to avoid running into certain ponies if you really wanted to, but there's cities all up and down the coast with garrisons that would've gladly taken you in. Or even a regular regiment out here, if you needed to be away from the sea. You could've kept on being a regular soldier and easily made staff sergeant by now, if you wanted to, instead of becoming a professional bodyguard."

The corporal didn't really know what to say to that, though it was true that when she’d first seen Castlerook here in Canterlot she'd pined for his rank, and reconsidered both her decision to join the VIP corps and to stay in for so long. It was kind of him to say that she deserved to be an E-6, above his E-5. As much as she’d consistently found it difficult to take a compliment, Castlerook had always been an honest, if often reserved, colt.

As Honour remained silent, the sergeant continued. "But even before you left, you were always all about the big changes. I remember the day you decided to join the Guard. You'd barely mentioned it before, and usually only dismissively, yet you were suddenly so adamant that it was the right thing to do, you managed to convince me to sign up as well. You made good points, after all: decent pay and benefits, a roof over your head, provisions for family, and a potential career. What else did any of our little gang have going for ourselves? And when you met, well, I won't say his name, but you were convinced it was the absolute biggest and best thing that could ever happen to you. When it didn't work out, you took his plot straight to magistrate's divorce court."

She started to open her mouth, but Castlerook raised a forehoof. "I can't blame you for that one, of course. He was scum, and he treated you like dirt. You never deserved that. But most mares would've given their colt a second chance, maybe sought some counselling, at least talked to their parents first." That same forehoof waved about dismissively. "I guess it wasn't going to happen in your case, but that wasn't the biggest change, anyways. It was how you acted afterwards: you went and did night class to get your proper diploma after having skipped so much high school. And then you started going to all those classes, the Yakistani Yoga, the new-age gong ensemble, that acrobatic dance school, the speed-dating clubs, the free lecture series at Filly U, and all those book clubs. Books! You started reading books -- not just reading, really, devouring, it seemed like. Big ones, too. For somepony who barely read before then, I thought for sure you were about to apply to college. You even started talking different."

It was true that Honour had gone through quite an intellectual renaissance after the divorce. At the time, college had crossed her mind, but she wasn't quite sure about the idea. Even with a high school equivalency diploma, she knew she had a lot of catching-up to do if she wanted to get a degree.

And then there was the cost...

She vaguely remembered factoring the Royal Guard's 'Gallop In-listed' benefits, including college tuition, into her calculation for entering the Royal Guard.

‘Whatever happened to that idea of punching out when your six years were up?’

Her reenlistment deadline was coming up this summer.

‘But still, as for Castlerook's big point, isn't he exaggerating?’

"A messy divorce that gave me an early mid-life crisis is hardly a pattern."

He chuckled. "Heh, no, but with you it goes all the way back. Don't you remember? You were restless at school, so you started skipping class. You felt neglected at home and got into a big argument with your mom, so you started slumming it on the street on weekend nights. You got worried that you wouldn't add up to anything when you grew old, so you damn near started a gang, and we terrorized the neighbourhood."

Those were juvenile acts of rebellion, and destructive ones at that. The way he was laughing about it stung a bit, and she felt her frown intensifying.

But then his smile turned warm, and she felt herself melting in his gaze. "...I never told you this, but I always admired that about you."

Honour felt her forehooves droop away from her chest. "What?"

Castlerook stepped closer, and the part of her that might want to take a step back stayed silent. "It takes a lot of willpower to up and change everything about your life the way you always do. Even if I disagreed with some of your moves, I appreciated how you always put your whole heart into whatever you decided you were gonna do. I can still see it now, with the way you say you want to stick by your VIP until the end. And you're holding fast about Fillydelphia, too."

Castlerook licked his lips, his muzzle inches from Honour’s. "I can't do it like you do, make big changes to try something completely new. So I admired that quality in you, and I followed along for a bit, as I could." He bobbed his head sideways. "When you said you were leaving Filly' to join the VIP Corps, I half thought about joining you. I know you never asked me to. You never asked me to join the gang or the Guard either. But I did, and I thought about following you again a third time, too. Just couldn't bring myself to make that big of a change, though. I didn't have the strength to pull up that many roots. I was too comfortable where I was at; I always get too comfortable where I'm at."

Honour’s forehooves fell away, and for a moment, she had to look away from him.

He was right, of course; she really did have a habit of completely changing direction.

And of looking down on her past.

But that wasn't a virtue.

It was just the result of frustration and panic.

Alexander was the one who had it right; finding stability wherever he was.

"No; you've got it backwards, Alex. I don't have any patience. I get so frustrated with big problems I just throw everything away, the good and the bad." Honour shivered as she remembered the way she blew up at Anonymous when he rearranged his room without her formal presence. Or even the way she’d fallen into Ebonshield's pitfalls of frustration trying to learn her 'Stellar Dance' contortions. "I'm still doing it. I still haven't learned. And I'm never happy: I always feel like I'm on shaky ground, like the floor's about to fall out from underneath my hooves."

Castlerook's grin disappeared, replaced by a stoic look of concern that was somehow supremely comforting.

"...You're the one who's got things right, finding comfort wherever you are, and succeeding because of it." Honour looked away, down at the ground. "I know I'm asking a lot by vetoing Fillydelphia. It's your home."

There was the barely-audible clinking of armor as he leaned in close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "You're not asking for anything more than what I offered, though. I did say it didn't have to be 'Filly, didn't I? I guess I was hoping to convince you to come back anyways, though."

Honour shook her head, then looked him in his piercing green eyes. "I'm sorry. Like I said, it's Leeward. I just can't deal with him. The way he just runs roughshod over me, even over my mom, smiling the whole time. Meeting him again now reminded me just how much I can't stand it."

Alex drew back. "Yeah, I know; I've seen him do it. I thought about maybe giving him a talking-to before the Gala. Maybe I'll still try tomorrow, if he hasn't sailed out by then."

She scoffed. "They'll all be too hung-over to sail anywhere, I'm sure. You'd have time. Not that I think it'd make a difference, given how many talks my mother and I have had with him."

He raised an eyebrow. "You never know. Sometimes a fresh voice can change someone's mind. I got to wondering a bit if maybe your father is a bit 'old-fashioned.'"

‘Old-fashioned?’

Honour scrunched up her muzzle. "Ignoring reality is 'old-fashioned'?"

But her soft-spoken admirer just chuckled again. "It is when the ones trying to convince you are all mares. Now, if a colt told him the same things you've tried to tell him, maybe then it'd be another story. There's some colts out there -- mares too, I've met 'em -- that think all mares are hysterical, and only colts have their hooves planted firmly on the ground, so it's only colts worth listening to. Not that they aren't polite to mares, but they don't pay any mind to words they speak about major happenings, that's all."

Honour really didn't know enough about Leeward -- about her own father -- to make a call one way or another on that one.

"I don't know. Maybe..." She shrugged. "I guess it might explain a few things about him."

Castlerook leaned in close again. "If he is what I think he is, then maybe I could straighten him out. D'you think that then you might be able to put up with him?"

Honour came here to tell Alexander that she couldn't do Fillydelphia because of Leeward. She’d expected some push-back, yes, but not this kind of attempt at 'problem-solving'. And it was hard to say 'no' to somepony as genuine as she knew Castlerook was.

She sighed. "Now you're the one not making this easy."

He backed off a bit. "Sorry..." Wearing a rueful expression, he swallowed. "You mean enough to me that I'm willing to move away from Filly. But I do have all my roots laid down there, and I'm not as entrepreneurial as you. It's going to be a big change." Glancing momentarily down at the ground, he nodded as he faced her again. "I'd still like to take a run at fixing your problems with Leeward. But I promise I won't push Filly' again unless I think I've already solved them."

Then he grinned. "Since you're set on finishing your tour of duty with your current VIP, I guess I've got a little time to try things out, and to look into alternative postings suited for the two of us. Both of our enlistments are coming up this summer; we can easily reenlist somewhere together. Just don't go doing something radical on me in the meantime."

‘'Something radical'?’

Honour had to chuckle at that. "Hah! Too late. On Monday, Her Majesty Princess Celestia signed my quaternion and my VIP up for the Grand Mêlée. We're officially in the MXP Games, along with my Very Important Pony and his steam-powered carriage."

Castlerook whinnied with amusement. "Really? Well, good luck, then. Wish I could be here to see it. You better show all those high-flyin' pegasi and spell-slingin' unicorns how the fighting's done down in the dark alleys of the Fillydelphia docks."

His charm was disarming, and Honour finally found herself feeling genuinely relaxed once more.

Behind her, there was a clatter of hooves coming to a sudden stop, and the sudden shuffle of guards standing to attention as two tittering lovers were stopped in their tracks.

"Hihihihi-Oh!"
"Ohohohoh-Oh!"

Both Bound and Castlerook turned to find a young mare and a middle-aged, whiskered colt rounding the blind corner, suddenly interrupted in their forwardly-playful nuzzling by the presence of a squad of Royal Guardsponies.

Honour’s beau immediately stepped away from her and put up a forehoof. "Sir, ma'am, I'm sorry, but this area of the palace is off-limits except to authorized personnel. Would you please return to the marked areas of the Grand Galloping Gala."

The grey-whiskered colt, clearly embarrassed at being caught trying to sneak off to enjoy his nubile young partner, started nodding his head and waving the soldiers off with a forehoof. "Oh, of course, of course, my apologies. Got a bit lost, that's all."

As he held the forehoof up quizzically, feigning a need for directions, Honour stared down his partner.

His very large-tufted partner.

His very large-tufted, bat-winged partner.

And she knew exactly where she’d seen those eyes, too.

Castlerook indicated the way back to the party. "That way, sir, ma'am."

"Oh, of course, of course, thank you, Sergeant! Come, my dear."

Honour couldn't resist giving a small curtsy to the mare, who was still smiling obliviously. "Good evening, Sister Lucretia."

The way her slit-oval irises popped wide open told the corporal she hadn't recognized her. But it only took her a second to put the pieces together, and she curtsied back even as the unicorn colt she’d dug her hooves into tried to lead her away. "Corporal Bound. Good evening to you as well."

The forced grin Lucretia gave Honour as she headed back to the party with her catch told the corporal everything she needed to know.

She looked over at Castlerook. "You saw the wings, right?"

He nodded. "I'm not supposed to see 'em, but I still saw 'em. Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell is still in effect for me and mine. But not for you, I take it, what with you already having been introduced."

Honour chuckled. "Yeah, we're way past DADT in my VIP quaternion. Special orders from Her Majesty Princess Luna herself. My VIP is on assignment, and we're his bodyguards."

Castlerook stepped back over to her, a proud smile on his face. "Really? Maybe you should reconsider if you're really on shaky grounds here after all, then. I can't imagine either of Their Majesties suffering fools gladly."

Honour snorted. "Or maybe fools are all She's got."

Getting in close once more, he nuzzled his muzzle up against hers. "Hey, come on, don't talk like that, putting yourself down." Alex reached down and picked up one of her forehooves in two of his own. "Look. I'm on docks duty tomorrow, but after that let's meet up and talk more about where you think you'd want to be. The regiment isn't scheduled to pack up and head home until mid-week. It'd be good to talk details face-to-face."

Unused to the intimate physical contact -- not that it was unwelcome -- Honour couldn't bring herself to actually say anything to his plan, so she just nodded.

He gave her a soft smile. "We'll make this work, I promise."

All she could do was breathlessly reply, "Okay."

Alexander pulled back away from her, but not before pausing to kiss the forehoof he was holding.

When he let go, he nodded back down the hallway. "Now, you go and enjoy the big party out there, Honour."

Feeling flush -- ‘did it suddenly get hotter in here?’ -- she tried to collect herself, patting down her dress and mane with a forehoof. "Thanks. Have a good night, Alex."

He grinned. "Don't worry, I will."

With a furtive last glance, Honour awkwardly turned around and rounded the corner, heading back to the Gala -- and to be specific, towards the main ballroom.

It was almost time for the Lipizzaner Waltz, and with how long it'd taken her to find Castlerook, Honour didn't have a lot of time to make it back before the dancing started. Not that she was going to dance, but she did promise to be back in time before it started, and on top of that, Honour felt like she owed Artemis to be present for her big number.

She'd put a lot of effort into learning the dance steps -- her and the Royal Engineer both. The least Honour could do was show her appreciation by attending.

‘Huh.’

She was feeling unusually upbeat about things all of a sudden. The chat with Castlerook really must've taken a load off her mind. It was a nice feeling, although she wasn’t given much time to enjoy it before she hit denser crowds, many of whom were similarly drawing inwards to the main ballroom, just off the main rotunda where the Princesses had set up their receiving line.

Clearly, the Lipizzaner Waltz promised to be well-spectated.

Just outside the ballroom in question, one of Her Majesty's impeccably-clad unicorn servants stood on a small podium advertising the event. "Ladies and Gentlecolts, Their Majesties invite you to the ballroom for the first dance of the evening."

There was no way even a tenth of the total Gala attendees could possibly fit in there, not with all the space required for dozens of couples to dance, but that might not stop many from trying.

The crowd became increasingly thick and impossible to push through; if Honour wanted to see what was going to happen, she’d have to improvise. She inelegantly reared up on her hind hooves for a quick glance ahead.

Ponies were still filing in through the sets of Prench doors, slowly. But there was an alternative: the ballroom took up two stories, and the upper floor also had sets of Prench doors with slim ledge 'Verona' balconies looking in. And even though it was crowded here, there was still enough time that it might not yet be crowded upstairs.

Turning around, Honour hustled back towards the staircase as quickly as her scanty dress allowed her.

‘Hmm, what would Castlerook have to say about this, given his little speech just a few moments ago?’

‘Another radical change, another 'entrepreneurial' course alteration?’

Or had she just given up, and maybe too soon when she could've gotten into the ballroom proper? Well, he's the one who told her he admired the trait in her-- no reason to stop on his account.

As she crested the stairs, she was relieved to be proven correct; there were plenty of completely empty viewing balconies. And more than that -- she spotted Glamerspear and Ebonshield doing their best to fully occupy one of the central platforms with the best viewing angle.

Lily spotted Honour and waved her over with one forehoof, holding one drink in her other hoof, with a second cocktail suspended next to her in her telekinetic grip. "Hey, Honour, over here! Got us a prime spot!"

Now that there was no rush, she took her time to stride over in a rather more elegant fashion.

Eb perked up at Honour’s arrival, and the corporal noticed that she had a glass in hoof as well. "Bienvenida, Honour. Come, join us on our balconcito privado!"

While the corporal was in a good mood herself, both of them seemed to be possessed of a suspiciously alcohol-fuelled enthusiasm.

‘How deep into their cups are these two?’

Honour raised an eyebrow. "I would've thought you'd be front-row downstairs. Or did you also arrive late?"

Glamerspear shook her head and floated her surplus drink in Honour’s direction. She doubted it was Lily’s original intention to share it with her, but what the heck; she took it. "Nah, we've been here for a bit. But I figured we'd get a better view up here anyways. How'd your meeting go?"

Honour glanced down into the ballroom before answering. As a contrast to the palace's overall magical purple color palette, this room had bright cream walls that filled the room with light, with opulent glittering gold trim to match. Down on the parquet floor, there were at least twenty couples eager to dance already, including a fairly conspicuous biped colt and his accompanying pegasus.

The outer three edges of the room were filling up with spectators fast, five ponies deep. In one corner on a set of raked stands there was a live chamber orchestra that looked to be at least thirty musicians, plus a conductor. There was a podium in front of them for a master of ceremonies and, in the opposite corner, another raised podium with a small mounted movie camera and a pair of ponies attending to it. Everything looked set up to go.

"My meeting went alright." As much as Honour’s relationships were her own private realm, she probably owed Lily more than a platitude. After all, if she hadn't pushed the corporal, she might not have laid it all out for Castlerook. Then she’d still be in slack water with him, instead of on a much more definite course. And it did feel good to resolve that lingering issue. "He agreed that we'll leave Filly, and we're going to talk details before his regiment gets sent back."

Lily smiled and raised her glass up. "Sounds good! Here, let's have a toast to at least one of us four being on track to solving their relationship issues!"

Purity snorted amusedly. "I do not recall having any such issues."

But the unicorn had an instant reply to that. "I don't see a colt hanging off your wing. Who're you gonna dance with tonight, huh? That's a relationship issue right there."

The batpony laughed. "Very well, I concede your point. ¡Salud!" The three of them raised their glasses in unison, clinked them together, and then drank.

Looking down over the balcony again, it seemed like things were about to begin. The M.C., a dashing stallion dressed in a tailcoat with neatly-brushed hair and a glowing smile, had his assistants arranging all the couples in a grid, spacing them out evenly. It seemed like they were only missing maybe three or four more to fill the dance-floor completely -- and the M.C. was already touring the inner rim of spectators, looking for those final replacements.

After she finished her drink, Lily leaned over towards Honour conspiratorially. "By the way, you'll never guess who we ran into shortly after you left."

Honour bet she could. "The Reverend Mother Superior Carmen Ebonshield."

Both of them glanced at her to check if she was joking. When it was clear that she wasn’t, Lily scoffed. "What, did you run into her too?"

Honour shook her head, watching as the M.C. finished filling out the grid before making an elegant stride over to his raised podium. "No, I met Sister Lucretia. She'd already found her first catch of the day; they were trying to sneak off into the closed areas and ran into Castlerook's barricade. I can't imagine that the good Sister would be here without her Reverend Mother."

The unicorn snorted. "Already picked up a colt before dinner? They don't waste any time, do they?"

Ebonshield shook her head, still looking down into the ballroom. "The Lunars are most efficient at their duties. There is a reason they bid on only the finest from the criadero. Behind their backs, we sometimes call the Lunars 'los pescadores' -- 'the fishers'. And they set their hooks very well."

Below them, the M.C. had grabbed for himself a stunning young mare in a dazzling crimson dress from the audience as an impromptu partner and began to walk the last-minute additions through the basic steps required for the Lipizzaner Waltz. He was all smiles and jokes, even when the unprepared extras made a mistake.

And the crowd seemed to be loving their interaction.

Some of the other couples joined in rehearsal as well -- their VIP and his pegasus included. When she was up on two hooves, Sparkshower actually met Anonymous face-to-face, though she did have to look up into his eyes.

Glamerspear glanced around the room. "Yeah, well, maybe they're the finest, but no offense, Artemis was right; if the batponies are here at the Gala, and especially if the Night Guard is on duty on the walls, then this event just got a whole lot more dangerous."

Eb lifted an eyebrow, still watching the dancing scene. "Is the Gala usually dangerous?"

Lily whinnied, taking her eyes off the scene to turn around and lean back against the railing, scanning the gallery-hall behind them. "It can get crazy, but I guess I was exaggerating a bit: it's usually not dangerous."

As the ponies on the dance floor went through the motions a second time, Honour saw things start to fall into place.

‘They'll begin in just a few moments.’

Honour’s thoughts turned to her previous Gala experience. "We heard of a couple of incidents when I was in the guardroom last year. The biggest was that somepony knocked over a big statue and it took out a whole bunch of decorative columns and nearly took out a few ponies at the same time. And there was an escape from the Palace Menagerie, a small zoo here on the grounds. Somepony told me that a few drunks got into the paddocks, but they never caught the offenders. I remember hearing about some sort of food fight as well; a few guards were asked to take their charges out to get a change of clothes."

Lily turned around again with an eyebrow raised. "I don't remember reading anything about that in Canterlot Match."

"Obviously, they hushed it all up. Can't have anything but perfection for Canterlot's premier event. The Powers that Be wouldn't allow it."

Lily’s other brow rose in surprise. "You don't mean Their Majesties, do you?"

Honour shook her head. "No, I don't think They would. And from the way They spoke about the Gala on Monday, I almost think They'd have been happy for this thing to get shaken up a bit now and again. Both seemed pretty fed up with the formality of it all. But I think the rest of the court wouldn't want it getting out, though."

Down in the ballroom, the M.C. had released his smiling press-ganged companion with a hoof-kiss and an elegant bow before taking the podium once more. The three of them paused their conversation to watch.

"Well, Ladies and Gentlecolts, as you can see we've finished our warmup. The formal first dance has been a feature of the Grand Galloping Gala almost since its inception, and to date it has never been performed with anything less than a full dance floor. Let's have a hoof for all of our lovely dancers and especially for the last-minute additions to the ensemble!"

The room erupted into polite applause as well as a few cheers and whistles, to smiles and a few blushes from the dancers. Anonymous and Sparkshower had been positioned halfway down the ballroom, four rows back from the front and one column in from the far long edge.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Tonight we have a very special treat for you, ladies and gentlecolts -- the Lipizzaner Waltz! Tricky steps if you were born with four hooves -- because it only uses two, ha ha!"

That got a few chuckles, then the M.C. turned towards the dancers "May I have silence, if you please. We'll do a dry-run through the moves first, no cameras, no cheers, no music -- just a steady beat and a 'lucky thirty-one' pairs of dancers. Ready? We'll go on the third bar. Maestro, if you please?"

The conductor began waving his hooves, and the percussion section began drumming out the beat of a waltz.

"...One-two-three, two-two-three, and-begin!"

It was a surprising scene with the spectators silent and just the three-count drumbeat as sixty-one pairs of hooves -- and one pair of feet -- went through the motions of the steps. The M.C.'s two assistants were at the back end, lending a hoof to the late additions. Everypony else seemed to have practiced well enough that the whole thing went off like clockwork. The only really funny thing was the way Anonymous and Sparkshower were dancing with neutral expressions on their face. Their VIP looked like he was trying hard to concentrate, while the pegasus was holding herself dignified, but impassive.

‘Surely they won't dance the real thing like that?’

Focusing on them, there was a moment where Honour caught Anon almost tripping over one of his feet, but Artemis held him up and even seemed to guide him into the next move.

‘Clutch save, there.’

Almost as soon as it began, it was over, and the M.C. looked to see the approving nods from his equally well-dressed assistants. "Magnificent! Well-done, everypony, well, done. And let's have another round of applause for our dancers, ladies and gentlecolts!"

A chorus of hoofclaps echoed through the room.

Honour elbowed Glamerspear. "Hey. Hold our cups, why don't you? We should be applauding, too."

Lily’s horn instantly lit up and Honour felt her cup almost jerk out of her forehoof. "Buck, damn straight! Wooo!"

Before she'd even fully seized the drinks, Lily launched into a furious applause that continued on well after almost everypony else had stopped.

Even the M.C. picked up on it. "Fantastic enthusiasm from up in the peanut gallery! Ha ha! Thank you, thank you!" He gave a little nod and a hoof-point to the camera, and Honour saw one of the operators start to turn the crank. "Now, Ladies and Gentlecolts, it is with great pleasure that I hereby open the first dance of the evening at the Grand Galloping Gala. Dancers, at the ready -- and, music."

The orchestra began in earnest, and so did the choreography.

---

Suggested background music and viewing: André Rieu performing Johann Strauss' 'Emperor Waltz' (Kaiser-Walzer) live in Maastricht 2012, featuring dance scenes set inside Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna, Austria
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBLaMmxyibE

---

All three of them were watching Artemis and Anonymous go through the moves. This time, they were putting on happy faces -- and a good show, with no trip-ups that Honour could see. Sparkshower seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself, and the Royal Engineer's smile seemed to be real as well. Even though it was a formal and technically tricky dance, somehow they actually made it seem natural and easy. Doubtless that was helped by the lead of their pair actually being a biped.

For him, moving around on his 'hind' legs is his natural state of affairs, and Honour had seen just how agile he could be on them. But even his pegasus partner was doing a good job; Honour didn't catch her 'cheating' with wing-flaps to stay upright at all. Maybe that wasn't surprising either -- when it came to core strength, the corporal had no doubts that Artemis was the most athletic of the quaternion.

Was she perhaps leaning a bit into him, though?

Or was she just trying to stay close, as the dance demanded?

Either way, it didn't seem to affect anything -- not even the pitch of Anon's back. If she was leaning into him, he clearly had no trouble bearing the weight.

When all thirty-two couples executed a simultaneous spin, thirty-one gowns twirled outwards from the centrifugal force in a wondrous display that could really only be appreciated from their elevation. Many in the audience below gave an appreciative clap at this synchronized maneuver, even though the routine wasn’t finished yet.

Lily grinned and nodded, whispering, "And that's why we're up here!"

It was a fleeting moment of elegant beauty, and Honour was glad to have witnessed it. She actually felt happy for Sparkshower, too; happy that she got to experience this wholesome, well done little group dance at the Gala. If Honour’d had a few more drinks in her, she might even have felt a bit jealous that she wasn't down there with a partner of her own.

As the graceful music slowed and came to an end, the couples adopted their final poses. Anonymous gracefully dipped Sparkshower across his arm, almost as if draping silk. The audience broke into applause and cheers, and in Honour’s peripheral vision she saw the camera turn to take in the audience as well as this finishing scene.

Artemis looked absolutely thrilled. And Anonymous was wearing the same kind of satisfied-but-exhausted smile he had after finally managing to grapple Ebonshield, during battle practice.

When the M.C. started to give a closing speech thanking the dancers and dismissing the audience, the other couples recover back down onto all fours, but Honour noticed that Anon lifted Artemis up straight again and then over into another dip on the other side, this time with a bit of flourish, extending his gloved, free hand up at an angle. She seemed to be laughing about it, and Honour saw tears roll down her rosy cheeks.

Now it was Ebonshield's turn to comment. "That one was not in the manual of steps."

‘The pegasus sure seemed to enjoy it, though.’

After a moment, he raised her up again, but before Artemis could climb down on all fours, Honour saw her crane her neck up and give their VIP a peck on the cheek.

Lily chuckled. "Neither was that move."

With some enthusiastic supporters still applauding, and a few friends and well-wishers stepping out onto the dance floor to congratulate their particular champions, much of the audience started to file back out into the gallery-hall.

Their unicorn comrade redistributed their cocktails. "I vote we finish our drinks before heading down. I'm not interested in pushing through a crowd."

That got Honour’s vote, too, and she was about to take a sip when she spotted one particular peg-legged pony pushing their way towards their VIP and his flushed pegasus escort.

"Damn it, Leeward!"

Next Chapter: Chapter 138 Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 32 Minutes