Special Circumstances #9

        “How do I look?”

 

        Mous looks over you in the silk dress-like garment you received earlier in the day. “Stunning. I’m surprised the tailors were able to pull it off the changes in so short a time.”

 

        “You and me both.” You stretch and twirl to get a good feel to how the fabric responds. The dress is a little tighter than you’d normally like, but it sits well and is remarkably comfortable for something made by a non-humanoid. The lower portion is not constricting enough to hamper leg movement, but isn’t loose and floppy as to be unintentionally revealing where it closes. After you’re satisfied with how it feels around your body, you step out into the lounge area and have a seat.

 

        “Will you be coming too?” you ask the drone.

 

        “I wasn’t invited,” the drone responds. Instead of the warmer colors of negative emotions however, Mous’ chassis glows a dull teal of good humor. “I don’t particularly want to go, either. I’ll have a missile on you like usual but I think I’ll try to find our wayward friend.” Lyra has been missing since noon, and while you aren’t particularly worried with where she got off to, Mous likes to keep everything under observation. A missile was out looking for her now but with limited success; the drone decided mapping out the entire palace was a decent use of its running time. The second missile undocks from Mous’ tail section, and floats to you to hover over your head.

 

        A knock at the door brought you to your feet. “That’s probably Fleur,” Mous says, and inclines its chassis forward in a farewell.

 

        Opening the door you discover the drone was right; before you in rose-colored dress-like attire was the tall white unicorn. Fleur’s wear was accentuated with some jewelry of gold filigree and garnets, one on a chain wrapped around the base of her horn, resting between her eyes. She made an impressive display overall but still more conservative than you expected.

 

        From her expression, you felt Fleur was thinking exactly the same as you. “I suppose you didn’t really need much more anyway,” the unicorn said to herself but loud enough for you to hear clearly. “Looks like you’re ready to go then Anon. I can tell you what to expect on the way.” You nod and follow her out into the hall, heading off towards the core of the palace.

 

        “When we get there, we’ll be announced with our formal titles. Don’t worry about memorizing any forms of address; it’s been a long time since we’ve referred to anyone but the Princesses with their full forms unless it’s formal procedure.” Fleur says as she leads you through the labyrinthine corridors, “I’ll take you around to everyone you need to meet, then turn you loose on the unsuspecting recruits.” The unicorn giggles to herself, only adding as an afterthought as if to explain some private joke, “They really won’t know how to handle you.”

 

        “Why not? Just because I’m the first human around here?’

 

        “Well, more everything related to that,” Fleur explains. “It’s actually rather rare we have diplomats around. The Buffalo are the only ones in Equestria who don’t live directly under Celestia’s rule, and they’d rather pursue their nomadic lives in isolation than have any formal ties. We don’t bother them and everything’s fine there. The neighboring Gryphons have an embassy here but nobody’s really in charge of it; I don’t know how they get anything done.”

 

        The unicorn turns an eye to you, looking over your attire. “And when you wear full-body clothes all day it makes you look stuffy and overly formal. Even the high-society types only go around in a saddle or a jacket or something light. Stepping it up even more for this event is going to make you look downright intimidating. I think you did yourself a favor cutting off the sleeves.”

 

        You never really thought of the implications of being constantly dressed in a society of nudists until you had your brief meeting with the tailor. If it really makes you unapproachable maybe you should give some thought to walking around in just your undergarments.

 

        The immense doors to the main hall loom before you, halfway open. In addition to the usual guards flanking the entrance, a pair of unicorns in more formal attire waits outside. One of them walks over to you as you approach, a paper and quill pen floating around his head. “Welcome Ambassador, Censor. Cutting it close as usual, Fleur?”

 

        “You know me,” Fleur responds airily, stopping as the doorpony scores the list twice before she glides through the double doors. You follow in her wake, coming to walk alongside her once you enter the main room.

 

        “Her Excellency, Ambassador Anon of The Culture!” the second doorpony calls out into the hall with a booming voice. “The Honorable Censor Fleur de Lis!”

 

        Never on any of your assignments have you been given a form of address like ‘Excellency’ as either your cover or from the civilization you were operating in. It takes considerable willpower to suppress your double-take as you move smoothly down the carpet in the middle of the room. Your skin pricks from all the eyes turned on you and you take in all the ponies looking at you with a few nervous glances, but as you reach the crowd the attention lessens.

 

        Fleur steers you towards two ponies closer to the heart of the throng, a unicorn and an earth pony. The former wore what looked almost like a humanoid’s formal suit jacket, cuffs around the lower legs and a monocle in one eye. The latter wore a frilly saddle-like garment and was adorned with bands of colored fabric around her neck and limbs, though no dress like most of the other mares. The stallion’s cutie mark of several crowns is partially obscured by his coat-tails, where the mare’s mark of a pair of squares was covered in designs you didn’t quite understand.

 

        “Anon, this is Minster of Rites Fancy Pants, and Minister of Works Craft Able. Your Excellencies, this is Ambassador Anon.” Fleur bowed her head deferentially to the pair after the introductions.

 

        “Thank you, Fleur. Upper Crust wanted me to send you over to her when you showed up, but wouldn’t tell me why. If you’re showing around our recent arrival it can probably wait. Knowing her, it can wait as long as possible, hah!” Fancy Pants said to your guide with a chuckle. His serious tone returns when he turns to you, “Welcome to Canterlot, Anon.” The mare beside him nods enthusiastically but doesn’t echo the greeting.

 

        “Fleur, your timing never ceases to amaze,” Fancy Pants continues, “We were just talking about Anon’s companion.”

 

        “Lyra?” Fleur gives Fancy an incredulous glance, “I didn’t know you still had a problem with her.”

 

        “No…” Fancy Pants shakes his head but you catch a brief expression of distaste flash across his face. “The other visitor. Mous, I believe. Will she be present?”

 

        “It,” you emphasize to correct the unicorn, “will not be attending. It has other matters to see to tonight.”

 

        “That’s a shame, my colleague and I wished to meet… it.” Fancy Pants looked uncomfortable using the pronoun. Craft Able gave the unicorn a quick look you read as embarrassment. Maybe she had more than a passing interest in Mous, like its encounter with Twilight it had told you about. You hope someone with as high stature as a minister could approach the subject with a little more tact.

 

        “Fleur!” a new voice calls out to your right. The four of you turn to see a unicorn in attire much more overtly expensive than Fleur’s or Craft’s. “Glad to see you showed. I need to talk to you about your most recent investigations,” the mare looks to you, “when some present company is otherwise entertained.”

 

        “This is Upper Crust, Anon; Minister of Revenue. Ambassador Anon, Minister.” Fleur hurries the introduction this time. From how her gaze shifts between Upper Crust and Craft Able, you get the sense she’d rather be further away from those two the closer they are together.

 

        “A pleasure, Ambassador.” Upper Crust nods curtly and turns to the earth pony mare. “Ms. Able, you may be interested to know that…” Fleur nudges your calf with a hind leg and gives the slightest toss of her head in a direction away from the pair. You look to Fancy Pants to say goodbye, but the unicorn wears a knowing smile and is already backing away. You turn back to Fleur, already making best speed off into another part of the crowd, and quickly follow.

 

        Fleur takes you past a stage to the side, where the musicians of the evening sit. Octavia is there, playing her cello with several other members of a small ensemble. You wave at her but she’s too engrossed in her work to respond. You’re not quite sure who Fleur is trying to find next, but she stops in the middle of the crowd when the crier calls out another pair of names.

 

        “Her Serene Highness, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Chancellor and Grand Secretary! His Excellency, Minister Shining Armor, Captain of the Royal Guard!”

 

        “Oh, they will do nicely,” Fleur mutters to herself, and you come alongside her as she angles off towards the newcomers.  “Princess Cadance is technically the ruler of the Crystal Kingdom, but their capital simply vanished a bit over a thousand years ago. Equestria controls the rest of their lands, and Princess Cadance is the head of a government-in-exile under Celestia. In the meantime, Cadance has been filling out some big positions in Equestria’s own administration. Her new husband Shining Armor is the Minister of Defense, and the head of the Guard as you may have guessed from his title.”

 

        “Do ponies at the top of the ladder commonly intermarry?” You were aware that in many cast- or class-based societies the majority of marriages would be amongst one’s own group, but the idea of trying to crack a government that was also a family gave you a headache.

 

        “There’s one other marriage at that level, Upper Crust back there is married to the Minister of Personnel. Unlike the Princess and the Guard-Captain, they were married before they got their positions. Shining Armor is actually the youngest of the Ministers.”

 

        “And the Guard isn’t under this Minister of Personnel’s control?” You pause as the crier calls out more names, “And why wouldn’t he be a General, or at least a Colonel?”

 

        “A what now?” Fleur stumbles over your apparently foreign words, “Captain is plenty sufficient, I’d think.” You make a mental note; this is the first time whatever effect allows you to understand their speech- and they yours- has failed entirely. It might be in your interest to test this phenomenon later. While you hash this out, Fleur pauses a few moments, not far from her targets. “But for the assignment of responsibility, it’s simply tradition,” she says, before finishing closing the distance. “Princess Cadance,” she drops her head to the pink alicorn, “This is Ambassador Anon.”

 

        You incline your body slightly towards her, unsure how much would be appropriate in the apparently casual atmosphere. If Celestia didn’t want you bowing towards her, the ruler of the realm, you figure you can get away with anything.

 

        Princess Cadance didn’t seem to mind anyway. “Hello, Anon. I hope you’re enjoying your stay so far?”

 

        “Yes I am thank you Princess. Minister, I appreciate how dedicated your soldiers are.”

 

        Shining Armor seemed taken aback at first by your term for the guards, but smiled and nodded. “I hope they can protect you well, and prevent any more attempts on your life.”

 

        Cadance adopted a troubled expression at the mention of the attack. “I don’t know why anyone would want to attack you, but my husband and I have been trying to draw up any likely motives. It would be tragic to see another.”

 

        “Thank you for your efforts,” you say, and perform another little bow.

 

        “Fleur, thank you for escorting Anon around lately,” Shining turns to your companion, “It’s a great relief to-“

 

        “I was wondering where you got off to, Censor de Lis!” Upper Crust says, approaching your group. “I’m sorry, Princess, but can I have a word with the Censor in private?”

 

        “Ah, sure, that would be fine I suppose,” Cadance says, looking to Fleur with an apology in her eyes.

 

        “Excellent,” Upper Crust says, casting a sour look at Shining Armor. The haughty mare heads back off into the crowd. Fleur grins at Shining Armor and puts on a show of sighing in exasperation and rolling her eyes. The Captain returns the gestures before breaking out in a chuckle as Fleur leaves.

 

        As soon as the pair departs, others appear seeking Cadance’s and Shining Armor’s attention. You turn to listen to the crowd in general, trying to get a better feel for the atmosphere of the place. “Notice anything strange?” you subvocalize to Mous.

 

        A glint of metal from the ceiling tells you its missile is on the move. “I’ve been listening on some conversations; despite the upper-echelon’s acceptance of you, it sounds like several of the others here aren’t too enthusiastic about your presence. Oh, to your right, brown stallion in the yellow jacket, he was one.”

 

        The earth pony in question had approached Shining Armor, the pair spoke easily and quickly. After their brief conversation the pony turned to you with a smile that was as genuine as any you’ve seen, “Hello, Ambassador,” and with a nod left.

 

        “You sure about that, Mous?” you subvocalize again, confused by the display

 

        “Absolutely. Maybe he’s a really good actor?”

 

        You realize you don’t feel tense as you normally would confronted with a possible attacker, just as the potential assailant was inexplicably warm in your presence. You look back at the Princess and the Minister. Could it have to do with being around the pair? The effect would put a rather literal spin on Cadance’s honorific.

 

        As you’re more or less already forgotten by the two in the rush of people seeking to speak with them, you decide to leave just to test the theory. Sure enough after reaching a certain distance, you suddenly feel uncomfortable, which becomes compounded by the fact you’re definitely not a fan of those subtle sorts of manipulation. You pump your system with a drug to promote mental focus to help flush any residual effects.

 

As soon as you do, the newfound clarity immediately ushers the thought that around Cadance is probably the safest place for you to be. If she could mentally disarm attackers, she is probably even better protection than anything her husband could do for you, at least in the short term. Before you could turn back, the doorpony’s voice rang out again. “Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia, by the power of the Elements Ruler of Equestria, Protector of Her Tribal Territories and the Bringer of the Dawn!”

 

All attention is drawn to the door, including yours. For how informal she wants you to treat her, Celestia definitely wishes to leave an impression on the masses. The Princess steps into the room slowly, a pace you don’t doubt is precisely measured. She walks to the stage where the band was until now playing, mounts the steps, and turns to face the crowd.

 

“Welcome, my new servants, to Canterlot Castle. I know you have all been here before, but tomorrow will be your first day as an illustrious resident of these halls, to work and rest within these walls for the good of all Equestria. I would like to congratulate you all on passing the rigorous tests and trials to obtain your new positions, and I am both happy and proud to include you within the fold. You are the best and the brightest Equestria has. She needs you to do your best every day, as you have done to come to this point. Equestria expects that every pony will do their duty; we can ensure the peace and prosperity this realm has enjoyed for the last thousand years continues for a thousand more.”

 

        Celestia smiles and inclines her head, and the room erupts in clopping and stamping of hooves. The Princess nods to the band and the music resumes as she leaves the stage. The whirlwind of activity in the center of the room begins once more, but around Celestia is a constant pocket of calm wherever she heads. She continues towards the back, where some tables and chairs had been set up along the wall for a banquet. You start to follow her as soon as she emerges from the crowd, and you notice Fleur heads towards you not long after.

 

        Celestia set herself down on a central chair as you caught up. “We might as well get here before the crowd.” Small pieces of food found their magic-assisted paths to the plate at her position. She turns to Fleur’s approach, and nods to her in greeting. “Hello, Censor. On the clock still I presume.”

 

        “I keep an eye out for Equestria even during my leisure time, Princess,” Fleur bows when she comes to a halt next to you. “Especially so.”

 

        “I’m always pleased when such a diligent servant as yourself enjoys their work. I see you’ve taken a shining to the good Ambassador, as well. Not looking for a change of career to the diplomatic corps, are you?”

 

        The remark catches Fleur off guard, and she spends a moment processing it. “No, your Highness, of course not.”

 

        Celestia grins at Fleur’s bemusement. “Good, you’re too good at what you do, and it is rare enough we have a censor who is actually welcomed, let alone admired. I’m sure you won’t let Anon distract you from your principle responsibility.” You’re not sure whether Celestia is reassuring, reaffirming, or rebuking your escort.

 

        Slowly, other ponies started finding their way to the tables. “You may have the seat to my left, Anon,” Celestia says as the others sit at seats seemingly predetermined, perhaps by new rank. You look a silent question at Fleur; ‘and you?’ The unicorn tilts her head in a manner you interpret as a shrug and moves down the table. Her departure leaves you feeling a bit out of place, but as Princess Cadance sits on the other side of Celestia, that damnable calming aura alleviates your anxiety. You focus on your food and the ponies immediately around you as the banquet begins.

 

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        Over the past couple nights you’ve been able to send your missiles out to map the entirety of the palace. Despite your low profile and limited ability to camouflage yourself, you didn’t want to risk being noticed, but your smaller companions could slip along the ceilings without drawing any attention. Now you were putting this knowledge to use, a missile skirting about the labyrinthine palace looking for Lyra. You had left the suite to watch the sun set, but you remain hovering over the city portion of Canterlot long after the last rays had dwindled away, thinking about the task ahead of you.

 

 You keep turning the problem of security over and over in your mind. Whatever group was responsible for the attack on Anon, it is either very small or very disorganized. It probably isn’t a singular group at all, but more of an eclectic fringe movement. If there is more to this threat than that, there would have been another attack by now. That doesn’t mean you could discount it, but it meant you didn’t have to spend effort looking for the heart of some cell to eliminate. Standard security precautions should hold.

 

Anon has already set out a first goal for the mission; discover what secrets were hiding in Equestria’s past. While you have your doubts about Lyra’s academic reliability, she is currently your best shot at gaining access to a host of materials that are most likely restricted, considering even musicians are censored for what they might know. It was in your best interests that she regains her old Ministry standing as soon as possible. That meant she had to write a passing research paper, whether or not it cut the way she liked. You didn’t care about her little obsessions, you need her back where she was before

 

Your missile is currently flying down a long hallway, staying where the wall meets the ceiling. Up ahead a gate is set into the wall to the right. The missile quickly darts through the bars and into a large chamber. Branching off ahead and to either side are rows and rows of books. Sitting in the middle at one of many tables with her back turned to the missile is Lyra, her work surface piled high with tomes, papers with scribbled notes, and writing tools. Across the room from the missile sits a large desk with a rather severe-looking unicorn watching Lyra like a hawk. Neither of the ponies have noticed the missile.

 

You turn for the castle and float away from the city, comparing the missile’s current location with your map of the palace corridors. You quickly plot a route and head for the library as soon as you re-entered your suite. Both unicorns are too caught up in their tasks of studying and observing to do much else, and by the time you arrived they have hardly moved. When the missile darts out you take it up and turn on your forward lightstrip before you float in. “Good evening to both of you. Still hard at work, Lyra?”

 

The librarian looks up in surprise, but Lyra doesn’t even turn around. “What do you want, Mous?” The mare sounds tired, and like she wants to be left alone.

 

“Just making sure you were alright. You vanished without a word and I was concerned. I know you’re not my charge, but I’d like you to stay safe.” You hover over and come to a stop beside her, looking over her materials; a bunch of human-related babble. It might be hard to convince her to write on another subject.

 

Lyra does look at you after you reply, but her expression still wishes you gone. “Thanks, I guess, but one set of eyes watching me is already enough.” She tilts her head towards the librarian.

 

“I’ll be brief then. Out of curiosity, what’s more important to you? Regaining your old status back, or proving this point of yours? Whatever you wanted out of it before, I’m sure having actually brought a real, living human right to the Princess herself is an achievement you wouldn’t be able to top no matter how carefully you arrange words on a page. Forget about humans in the past, you have a human in the present you can be chaperoning, as far as academic pursuits are concerned, maybe it’s time to move on. There are many other topics you could write on to regain your post in the Ministry, I’m sure.”

 

Lyra looked back to her collected research and sighed. “I’ve put years into this Mous. But they weren’t happy ones, I do want my old life back. I just feel like I need to somehow make all this worthwhile.”

 

“I don’t mean to decide for you. But if you want your old position, be open-minded about how to get there. Think on what’s most important to you.”

 

By this time the librarian has recovered and made her way over to you. “I’m sorry, you’re not allowed here. Technically neither is she but she’s been granted permission as long as I’m watching her. I can’t keep track of both of you; I have to ask you to leave.”

 

You dip the front of your frame in the equivalent of a nod, and start drifting backwards. “Of course. I didn’t mean to stay long anyway. Good luck, Lyra.”

 

The unicorn doesn’t respond, already buried in her project again. As you exit, you believe that may have been enough. From her response, Lyra sounded like she had already been weighing those options, and a little nudge might be enough. You didn’t know how the Ministry worked, but she might only have one chance at this. You couldn’t afford her to screw it up- the librarian’s request made that clear enough.

 

As soon as you’re out, you launch your missile again, and it scoots off to scout out your path back to the suite. As it travels, it picks up a voice from a side hallway; “Of course, princess, right away!” The missile wedges itself into a corner and stops moving as a guard walks past, and you direct it to explore the source. Most of the high-ranking officials would be at the banquet Anon was currently attending, you thought. What is this one doing away from the rest, and why?

 

As the other end of the short hall comes into view, a large pony walks across the missile’s field of vision. Unlike the light, pale shades of coat you’ve seen so far, this one was navy blue, and had the same shimmering mist of a mane Celestia did. Instead of a rainbow of colors, this alicorn’s mane was very dark, twinkling as if full of stars. The mark on her flank was a crescent moon on a black field. You didn’t need to think hard to guess her identity.

 

You hurry to catch up with the missile, and drop in behind the princess. “Princess Luna, I presume?”

 

Luna turns to face you with surprising speed.  “And you’re Mous, companion to the human ambassador?” Very much unlike her sister, Luna was direct and didn’t try to hide her wariness behind a polite expression. You wonder how this reflected on her position in the government.

 

“Correct. I don’t mean to be rude, but I was wondering why you weren’t with you sister and the Ministers?”

 

Princess Luna eyed you carefully before responding. “I am not needed there. Censors are chosen separately, and by me personally. I have other duties I can be seeing to instead of spending the first hours of the night speaking to those I have little business with.”

 

She may be blunt but she is still like her sister in some respects, you amend your evaluation. “My apologies, I won’t take any more of your time.” You turn and leave without waiting for another word, and through your missile watching the two of you, you can see Luna does the same almost simultaneously. Of course the princess of the night would hold nocturnal hours. That might be to your advantage- if she worked mostly alone, perhaps you could try and gain her confidence. Working both ends of the royal family couldn’t hurt, you’d have to ask Anon how to best proceed for a coordinated push. You made your way back to your suite and waited for her return. Luna was right, it’s about time to get to work.