PART 1
 
>Boy, did you ever pick the wrong time to visit Twilight Sparkle's castle.
>There you are, hanging out with Rarity and Twilight, discussing some of the finer points of unicorn magic, a concept you are still struggling to grasp.
>"Of course there are anomalies, dear."
>Rarity is surprisingly knowledgable on the subject, or at least in breaking it down in ways you can comprehend.
>You had actually expected Twilight to dominate the conversation.
>"There are some ponies who demonstrate abilities that on first glance appear to be magic, but are in fact some form of... I don't know, help me out here?"
>"I think I would call them reality breakers, or dimensionally fluid, like Discord."
>"Yes, that's it!" Rarity exclaims, "Or, to cite an example you're perhaps more familiar with-"
>"Hi everypony!"
>Suddenly Pinkie Pie, who already has her own cup of tea, has joined the conversation.
>Although you jump, startled, Twilight and Rarity take this with the air of ponies who are used to dealing with these sorts of shenanigans.
>"Yes, that'll do nicely," Rarity finishes, taking a sip of her tea.
>Pinkie Pie giggles infectiously.
>"Hey there Nonny! Boy do I have a treat for you!"
>"What's up Pinkie?" Twilight asks, her interest aroused.
>"I brought you a visitor!" Pinkie Pie enthusiastically bounces over to the doors.
>"May I present Princess Anastasia of Yakyakistan!"
>With a flourish, Pinkie Pie opens the doors, admitting a creature that to you resembles an unreasonably large dust mop on hooves, wearing some jewelry on its horns.
>Twilight Sparkle immediately shifts gears into "gracious hostess" mode.
>"Princess Anastasia! How very nice of you to visit Ponyville!"
>Princess Anastasia looks around.
>"Is nice place. I like."
>You can barely understand her, and have absolutely no idea where her accent comes from.
>"Well it's certainly a privilege to have so many guests today," Twilight continues. "You know Rarity, of course."
>"Yes, I know dress pony. Is nice see you."
>"How good to see you again!" Rarity replies, rising from her seat and gesturing for you to do likewise.
>"And I would also like to present to you, our resident visitor from another dimensional plane, Anonymous!"
>You decide to keep it simple.
"Charmed."
>The creature's head swings toward you and stops.
>You get the distinct feeling that you are being closely scrutinized, though you can't see its (her?) eyes at all.
>Suddenly the giant dust mop lumbers towards you, causing you a nervous moment before she stops, barely a foot away.
>You hear the unmistakable sounds of sniffing, as the Yak Princess investigates your alien scent.
>Rarity and Twilight Sparkle exchange vaguely worried looks.
>Pinkie Pie, as is usually her wont, simply wears an ear-to-ear grin.
>The sniffing stops and Princess Anastasia seems to look up at you, though you still can't see her eyes.
>"You interesting. You will accompany me to dinner to-night."
>Pinkie's grin gets that much wider, as out of the corner of your eye you catch Twilight Sparkle nodding and gesturing discretely for you to say something.
"Um, sure. Looking forward to it."
>"Good."
>With that, Princess Anastasia turns and lumbers back to Pinkie Pie.
>"Is nice. Show me library you tell me."
>"Sure thing Princess!"
>And with that, Pinkie Pie and Princess Anastasia leave the room.
>As soon as the door closes behind them, Twilight and Rarity both let out relieved puffs of breath.
"Um, guys? What just happened?"
>"That was Princess Anastasia of Yakyakistan," Twilight explains.
"Yeah, I got that bit, what of it?"
>"Well dear," Rarity begins, trying to be diplomatic, "I shouldn't worry too much about it, but she seems to have taken quite a shine to you."
"Wat?"
>"Shouldn't worry about it?" Twilight practically gasps.
>Uh-oh, you've seen that look on her face before.
>"Diplomatic relations between Equestria and Yakyakistan are at a critical stage!"
"Oh no. Don't you go getting me involved in your politics."
>"It's too late Anon, you were involved the moment she saw you."
"What? Why me?"
>"Because she asked you to dinner!"
"So she's hungry. I wouldn't even have said yes, except you were trying to get me to be polite. So what?"
>Twilight puts her fore hooves to her temples and rubs, a sign of stress and overthinking that you recognize quickly.
>"Yaks have very unique cultural expectations, and extremely quick tempers. We're not talking about a state dinner here, she asked you out on a date!"
"Dammit, what the hell have you gotten me into?"
>Rather than answering, Twilight Sparkle begins frantically searching the bookshelf behind you.
>"Calm down Anonymous," Rarity intervenes, "this could actually be a really good thing."
"Yeah? How?"
>"Well, you both have so much in common!"
>Seeing the skeptical look in your eye, Rarity presses on awkwardly.
>"Well... you're both visitors from another land... you both have strange customs we're just learning about... You're both, er, hairy?"
"Really?"
>"Ah-HA! Here it is!"
>Twilight Sparkle blows the dust off of a leather-bound tome and levitates it over to her reading table and reads off the title.
>"Don't Order The Soup: A Field Guide to Courtship and Mating Traditions of Yakyakistan!"
"MATING TRADITIONS?!! What the hell!"
>"Calm down Anonymous, I'm sure it won't go that far. I think."
"Oh, THAT's reassuring."
>Twilight Sparkle either ignores your sarcasm or fails to notice it.
>"Anonymous, we're going to give you a crash-course in this book. Please, you have to observe the correct traditions, or..."
"Or what?"
>Twilight sighs.
>"Remember what I said about Yak tempers?"
"Sorta."
>This produces an annoyed snort from the Princess of Friendship.
>"When Yaks get upset, they tend to become violent and, er... break things."
"Are you fucking shitting me?"
>"And declare war."
"What the actual hell!"
>"Anonymous, dear, you know we wouldn't let anything bad happen to you, right?" Rarity tries to soothe you.
"I am starting to have my doubts."
>"Anonymous, Princess Anastasia is our guest, and the last thing we want to do is to make her upset."
"What if she makes me upset?"
>"Anonymous, I would normally never ask such a thing of you, but you saw the way Princess Anastasia looked at you."
"I never even saw her eyes."
>"Please Anonymous, if you could just help us out, keeping Princess Anastasia happy, I'm sure I could arrange a suitable reward..."
>This takes your interest.
"Such as what?"
>"Well, er..."
>"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Anonymous. I'm sure even Princess Celestia would agree with us..."
>Rarity looks frantically to Twilight Sparkle for support, and the Princess nods enthusiastically.
"I'm not a gigolo."
>"No, you're not, Anonymous. But you are, as of ten minutes ago, a crucial lynchpin in Equestrian / Yakyakisatani relations."
>You mull this over.
>"Won't you please help?"
>The puppy dog eyes.
/Dammit Twilight, that's not fair./
/Et tu, Rarity?/
/Pinkie Pie, I am so gonna get you for this./
>You sigh resignedly.
"All right. What do I need to do?"
>Twilight levitates the book she retrieved earlier.
>"Put on your thinking cap, Anonymous. We've got some studying to do!"
 
 
PART 2
 
>"So the proper form of address for a Yak princess is?"
"Your Grace."
>You shiver slightly under the blanket as Twilight Sparkle drills you on finer points of Yakyakistani etiquette.
>Rarity has confiscated your clothes to make "emergency repairs and alterations".
>She's promised to shine you up like a new penny.
>That wouldn't have been so bad if Twilight Sparkle hadn't also insisted that you take a bath.
>Granted, that tub had been huge, and you had eventually managed to dissuade Twilight Sparkle from scrubbing your back for you.
>That said, one thing you had noticed about your prospective paramour was the smell.
>She had smelled exactly as you might expect a yak to smell.
>Given that, you hardly see the point in shining up too much for her.
>"Can you address her by any less formal title, such as 'My Lady' or 'Madam'"?
"Only if she expressly invites me to."
/Come on, we've been over this ten times already./
>"Now remember, you must never do anything to embarrass her, or make her feel awkward."
"You mean make her feel like she's sitting in the middle of a castle wearing only a blanket?"
>Yeah, your patience with all of this is starting to wear a bit thin.
>"Here you go."
>Spike, the only one with any real sympathy for the situation that has suddenly been forced upon you, has brought you a steaming mug of coffee.
"Thanks, dude."
>"No problem."
>"AHEM!" Twilight Sparkle clears her throat, glaring at both of you.
>"Oh, er..." Spike stammers a bit before adopting a more formal pose and a silly accent, "will there be anything else sir?"
>You imitate his fake upper-crust accent perfectly.
"Thank you, no, that will be sufficient for now."
>"Very good sir."
>"That's better," Twilight Sparkle harrumphs.
>You take a sip of your coffee to drown the sarcastic remark that was climbing up your throat.
>That dragon makes darn good coffee.
>"So if she spreads honey and butter on her rolls before eating them, what should you do?"
>You sigh.
"I should spread honey and butter on my rolls as well, so she doesn't feel awkward."
>"I'm ba-a-ack!" a sing-song voice announces.
>"And let me just say that I have out-DONE myself! I'm a genius!"
>You, Spike, and Princess Twilight all look up as Rarity enters in the room, holding a garment bag aloft with her magic.
"Finally!"
>You can't wait to have your clothes back.
>"Perfect timing, Rarity! Let's see it!" Princess Twilight says.
>"Prepare to be... dazzled!!"
>And with a flourish, Rarity opens the garment bag revealing your suit.
>"OOOHHHHH!!! It's just PERFECT!" Twilight practically squeals, her smile broadening considerably.
"You've gotta be kidding me..."
 
------
 
>You enter the fancy restaurant, feeling like a damned fool, to be perfectly honest about it.
>Somehow, Rarity had polished your shoes to a mirror gloss.
>They were running shoes, for crying out loud.
>Your jeans are cleaned and pressed, and Rarity has added a handsome gold stripe to each outside seam.
>Your perfectly serviceable windbreaker has been dressed to the nines, with red velvet lapels, elegant gold frogging on the cuffs of your sleeves, and gold epaulets.
>In spite of the presence of a perfectly good zipper, ornate gold buttons have been added.
>Your white dress shirt was thankfully unmolested, having only been cleaned and pressed.
>But it has been overtopped with a shiny purple waistcoat and bowtie, both of which look as though they had been ambushed by a Bedazzler.
>A purple satin sash with gold trim, draped from your right shoulder to your left hip, completes the ostentatious ensemble.
>You look around and see no sign of any yak-like presence, meaning that Twilight Sparkle's plan to get you to the restaurant first has probably worked.
>You officially hate teleporting now.
/WARN me next time, you nutcase./
>Most of the wait staff pointedly ignore you, but one, a little more fancy than the others, approaches.
>"May I assist you sir?"
>You think he must be the Maître'd.
"I believe you have a reservation for me? Anonymous and Princess Anastasia?"
>"Hmph. A moment, please."
>The Maître'd smoothly crosses to a small desk bearing a ledger and consults it.
>"I'm afraid you are mistaken sir. I have no such reservation."
>Fucking great.
"Could you check again please? Perhaps under the name of Princess Twilight Sparkle?"
>The Maître'd sniffs with undisguised contempt.
>"If I might disabuse you right now of the notion that name-dropping will earn someone such as yourself any sort of favor here..."
>The snobby pony's voice trails off as he catches sight of Twilight Sparkle's name on the registry, along with your own and Princess Anastasia's.
>"Oh. There it is."
>He has the good grace to look suitably chagrined, and his manner switches immediately from surly to obsequious.
>"Well I do apologize sir. Yes, your table is already prepared. If you will come along with me."
"Thank you."
>The Maître'd conducts you to an elegantly laid out table for two in a discreet part of the restaurant, near a large picture window with a breathtaking view of the distant mountains, including Canterlot Castle.
>He pulls out your chair for you, and you tip him from the bag of bits Twilight Sparkle had supplied you with for "incidental expenses".
>"Just let me or any of my staff know right away should you require anything, sir. I shall inform you immediately when your date arrives. Bon appétit!"
>You involuntarily grind your teeth a bit at the word "date", but the Maître'd withdraws like a ghost before you have a chance to correct him.
>In the interest of social lubricant, you flag down a passing waiter and order a bottle of the house wine.
>"Psst."
>Waiting on your wine, you look around for the source of the sound.
>"Psst! Down here!"
>You look down at the table and are surprised to see the pepper mill waving to attract your attention.
>On closer inspection, the pepper mill has Twilight Sparkle's face.
>"How's it going so far?"
"I don't know, I just got here. Princess Anastasia isn't here yet."
>You do a double take.
"How did you... never mind. WHY are you here?"
>"My dear Anonymous, we would never just abandon you in a situation such as this, we are here to provide advice and encouragement!"
>You are further surprised to be addressed by the salt cellar, which you notice has Rarity's face.
"Why?"
>"Rarity and I both grew up in Canterlot. I know all about etiquette."
>"And I know all about refinement."
>Terrific, an elegant dinner with endless kibitzing by these two does not meet your standard of an ideal way to spend an evening.
>A unicorn wait pony appears at your elbow.
>"Your wine, sir. Do you wish me to open it now?"
>You are startled, but a glance back at the pepper mill and the salt cellar reveals... a perfectly ordinary pepper mill and salt cellar.
>You pick up the pepper mill, scrutinizing it.
>"If sir wishes, I can come back later..."
>You hastily put the pepper mill down.
"No, I was just... admiring the table setting. Please open the wine."
>"Very good sir."
>The waiter carefully removes the seal and, producing a corkscrew, quickly removes the cork, and holds it out to you.
>After a pause, you take a careful sniff and nod approvingly.
>The wait pony turns your wineglass upright and decants a little bit of wine into it.
>Mildly surprised that something Twilight Sparkle taught you actually turned out to be useful, you swirl the glass, inspecting it carefully by the light.
>You carefully sniff the wine, noting that it has a very pleasant floral bouquet.
>You carefully sip the wine, noting its tart taste and sweet finish, and nod approvingly to the waiter.
>"Shall I serve now sir?"
"No thank you, just allow the bottle to breathe until my companion arrives."
>"As sir wishes."
>Setting down the bottle, the waiter silently withdraws.
>You are left to contemplate the wine.
>"You ordered wine?"
>You practically jump out of your skin as the pepper mill begins speaking to you again.
"Well, yes. I thought she might appreciate it."
>A panic momentarily seizes you.
"Yaks don't have any social taboos against drinking alcohol, do they?"
>The pepper mill scratches its head.
>"I don't think so, I'm just concerned about loosening her...inhibitions. Be careful."
"Don't let her drink too much. Got it."
>A minor commotion arises from the restaurant's entrance.
>"I am Princess Anastasia of Yakyakistan, where is Anonymous?"
>"Good luck Anon!" the salt cellar and the pepper mill hiss at you in unison.
>Swallowing the rest of the wine in your glass, you rise and walk around the table to get her attention.
>"There you are!" Princess Anastasia bellows across the restaurant, and immediately begins making her way to your table, ignoring offers of assistance from the wait staff.
>She has added more elaborate jewelry to her horns, and her back is now covered by a green blanket inlaid with an intricately-woven geometric floral pattern, with white trim and tassels.
>She stops less than a foot from you and sniffs you again.
>"You smell nice."
>Your pilot light momentarily goes out at this compliment, as you search for a way to return it.
>She still smells like a yak, albeit a groomed and perfumed yak.
>"Say something nice Anonymous!" the salt cellar hisses at you.
"Oh, er, thank you. You look...very nice. I like the blanket."
>For some reason, she lowers her head and shuffles nervously at this.
>"Th-thank you."
>Princess Anastasia rears up and spreads her forelegs wide.
>You had been warned to expect this traditional greeting, nevertheless the bear hug nearly crushes the breath out of you.
>But you return it as best you can, like the helluva guy you are.
>Bruised ribs and all.
>As she releases her python-like grip on you and drops back to all fours, you pull out her chair for her, which seems to suddenly galvanize her into action.
>"Yaks no need chairs! Uncomfortable!!"
>And with that, she smashes the chair to splinters.
>A few of the nearer restaurant patrons turn and stare at the commotion, while others stoically carry on eating or conversing, determined to ignore the interruption.
>With commendable aplomb, a pair of wait ponies appear out of nowhere and clear away the debris.
"I guess the lady prefers to stand."
>And then, remembering Twilight Sparkle's advice, you add,
"Better take mine too, just to be on the safe side."
>"Ahem."
>The Maître'd has appeared at your elbow, as though by magic.
>"I beg your pardon sir, but I trust that the Royal Treasury...?"
>As he lets the unspoken question hang in the air, you cast a desperate glance at the pepper mill, which nods frantically.
"Yes, you may rest assured that the Royal Treasury will address any losses."
>The Maître'd smiles and pulls out a notebook.
>"Very good, sir."
>After making a small notation in his book, the Maître'd does his ghost trick again.
>You turn to one of the wait ponies.
"You may serve the wine now."
>"As sir wishes."
>The wait pony carefully decants a half a glass to each place setting.
>Remembering Twilight's earlier warning, you hastily add,
"Oh, and perhaps you might bring us some ice water as well."
>"Very good sir."
>The wait ponies withdraw, taking your chair and the pile of debris that used to be a chair with them.
>You are now more or less alone with Princess Anastasia.
>You decide a toast is in order, and pick up your wineglass.
"To your very good health, Your Grace."
>Princess Anastasia picks up her wineglass as well.
>You sip from yours.
>She downs the entire contents of hers in one swallow.
>"Is tasty, but weak. Another!"
>She holds out her glass to you.
>Setting down your wineglass, you carefully refill hers halfway, as you had seen the waiter do.
>"More!"
>After a nervous gulp, you fill her glass to the brim.
>She downs it all in one gulp again.
/Where's that guy with the water?/
>"Why you no drink?"
>Princess Anastasia takes the wine bottle from you and brims your glass, spilling some on the tablecloth.
>"Drink!"
>Again, not wanting to make the Princess feel awkward, you raise your glass to her and guzzle the contents as quickly as you can.
>You barely get to taste the wine, but you can certainly feel the alcohol.
>Princess Anastasia nods approvingly and pours the remaining wine into her glass, about 3/4 full before the bottle dries up.
>She swallows the wine, then tosses the empty glass over her shoulder and onto the floor.
>Again, in the spirit of making her feel comfortable, you toss your wineglass onto the floor as well.
>Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the Maître'd making another notation in his book.
>Princess Anastasia holds the now-empty wine bottle aloft and bellows, "Is good, I like! Another!"
>And throws the bottle on the floor.
>Staining the carpet.
>The bussing staff is going to be very busy tonight.
>And the Royal Treasury is going to take a beating.
>"I like you. You give good hug."
"Oh, ah thank you, Your Grace."
>Princess Anastasia looks down and shuffles nervously again.
>"Please, call me... Anya."
>You hear the pepper mill and the salt cellar clink, but you figure that directive constitutes permission.
"As you wish, Anya."
>Anya raises her head and smiles at you as the wait pony arrives with your menus, a fresh bottle of house wine, and two new glasses.
>As the long-suffering wait pony pours the wine, Anya frowns at her menu, then seizes it and tosses it onto the floor.
>"I no read pony. You order for both."
"As you wish."
>The pepper mill waves frantically, trying to attract your attention, but you are engrossed in the study of your menu.
>Written pony language is a chore for you to read as it is, but the fancy, filigreed script in which the menu is written is darn near indecipherable.
>You frown a bit and look up from the menu.
>Anya is filling both your wineglasses to the top.
>The wait pony looks at you expectantly.
>The salt cellar and the pepper mill are frantically trying to get your attention.
>The wait pony holds his quill at the ready.
>You take the only graceful way out you can.
"You know what? I'm feeling adventurous. Bring us two of your best appetizers to start, and two orders of la Spécialité de la Maison."
>THAT sounded impressive.
>The wait pony writes in his pad and smiles at you.
>"Excellent choice, sir. Comprendez-vous la langue de la belle Prance?"
>And THAT knocked the wind out of your sails.
"Juste un peu. A few words only, sorry."
>"Very good sir."
>The wait pony collects the menus and withdraws.
>Anya raises her wineglass to you. "Very fancy, I like!"
>You pick up your own wineglass and raise it.
>She downs hers in one gulp, it takes you two or three.
>"Ahh," she says, then belches, apparently satisfied.
>You decide you'd better have some water.
>"You wait here now, I go bathroom."
>You choke on your water.
>Anya leaves, as you wonder what could happen next.
>"WHERE IS BATHROOM?" You hear Anya bellow.
>A conscientious wait pony points her in the right direction.
>You can hear some of the fancier ponies muttering amongst themselves about vulgar behavior.
>"ANON!" the pepper mill hisses.
"WHAT?!"
>You realize that you yelled, and look around self-consciously before leaning close to the table to carry on your conversation more discretely.
>"Why didn't you just let me read the menu for you?"
>You rub your face.
"Gee, I don't know, how would that look with Anya - Princess Anastasia - sitting across from me, getting crib notes from a pepper mill?"
>"What's 'la Spécialité de la Maison'?" Twilight pepper mill asks.
"The speciality of the house."
>Inasmuch as it is possible for a condiment dispenser to facepalm, Twilight does so.
>"I KNOW what it means, what IS it?"
"How should I know? What difference does it make, it's bound to be tasty and very impressive!"
>You stand up straight and do your best to look casual as the wait pony arrives with your appetizers.
>The appetizers are a selection of seasoned, grilled vegetables, served on a bed of what looks like orzo pasta and leafy greens.
>You miss meat, but the dish smells very good, setting your mouth to watering.
"Thank you."
>The wait pony withdraws.
>"What if it's something she doesn't like, or can't eat?"
"I'll send it back, that's what you do in restaurants."
>Twilight pepper mill huffs, puffing out her cheeks.
/That's kinda adorable./
>You turn to Rarity salt cellar.
"What about you? Anything to contribute?"
>The salt cellar appears to weigh her words carefully.
>"Her boorish table manners are quite shocking, perhaps you might try modeling some more refined habits for her?"
"Yeah. That'll work."
>Once again, the sarcasm seems lost on them.
>There is a distant crash from the direction of the bathrooms.
>"What was that?" Twilight pepper mill asks.
"I hope you have some room in the the budget this fiscal year."
>"Urrrgh..."
>You see Anya approaching and hastily throw your napkin over the pepper mill and the salt cellar.
>"Stupid hoof-dryers. Bathrooms should have towels!" Princess Anastasia grumpily announces.
>You actually agree with that sentiment.
>You can also see that she has given some attention to her appearance, neatening the rude shock of hair on her head somewhat.
>You still wish you could see her eyes, though.
"Um, our appetizers are here, Anya."
>Anya looks at the plate of grilled vegetables.
>"This what ponies call dinner? Is hardly enough to feed baby!"
"Well, that's just the appetizer, you see."
>Anya looks at you inquiringly.
>You try to take Rarity's advice as best you can, and pick up your fork.
"There are multiple courses in meals like this. The appetizer is meant to stimulate your palate, and help you to anticipate the main course-"
>Anya suddenly slams her muzzle down onto her plate, making everything on the table jump, and noisily slurps up the food, chewing loudly.
>With a resigned shrug, you take a forkful of food and put it in your mouth, chewing it thoroughly to savor it.
>"You not like salt and pepper?" Anya asks with her mouth full, gesturing to your napkin covering the pepper mill and the salt cellar.
/How to explain?/
"I generally prefer to eat the food as the chef prepared it. Sometimes I season to taste, but not always."
>Anya swallows her food.
>"HAH! No wonder you so skinny, eating like that!"
>That is probably the first time since you arrived in Equestria that anything has called you skinny.
"When I was growing up, and even skinnier than I am now, my mom was an amazing cook."
>You see that you have Anya's undivided attention now.
"She taught me that food is more than just sustenance. She taught me that flavors could combine in some truly magical ways."
>You pause to pick up a piece of grilled summer squash, with bits of pasta sticking to it.
"Take this for example. Summer squash is mostly water, and tastes kinda bland by itself. But you can see from the black lines that it has been grilled."
>Anya nods, her attention apparently rapt.
"The chef has also added spices, and combined them with pasta, that has just a bit of olive oil and pine nut in it..."
>You put the grilled squash in your mouth and chew.
"Mmm. They combine to a smoky, robust, yet rustic flavor that makes me think of the farm where this must have been grown."
>Anya is drooling a bit, and looks sadly at her now-empty plate.
>"Can I try... your way?"
>Something in her voice seizes your attention.
"Sure."
>You scoop up another forkful and hold it out to her.
>Anya shuffles nervously once more, then opens her mouth to receive the food.
"Slowly. Remember to taste it."
>Anya nods, and carefully takes the food from your fork, chewing thoughtfully.
>You note that there's quite a bit of drool left on your fork, and wipe it off on your napkin.
>"I think-" Anya begins, still chewing.
"Ah-ah. Finish chewing, Anya."
>Anya nods and continues chewing, finally swallowing the morsel.
>"Your mother was very wise."
"I like to think so."
>"Can I meet her?"
"Ah. That's a bit difficult."
>"Why not?"
"I'm not from this world, you see. My mother, and everyone else I knew growing up, are still there, on the world I came from."
>"Why you come here?"
"You mean how?"
>Anya hesitates, then nods.
"I don't know. Some magical mishap. I am assured that Princess Celestia's best scholars are trying to figure it out."
>You reach out and give the pepper mill a pat on the head.
>Anya lowers her head and shuffles again.
>"I knew there is reason why I like you."
>This time Anya has your full attention.
>"You are like me, a stranger here."
>A moment passes.
>"You miss home?"
>You nod.
"Very much, some days. The ponies are nice to me, but I still live every day with the feeling that I don't belong here."
>Another moment passes.
>"I miss home too."
>You almost feel that there is a connection, but the moment is spoiled by the wait ponies bringing your main course.
>"Sir and madam, we are proud to present the house speciality of the day."
>With a flourish, the wait pony lifts the domed silver cover off of the serving tray, revealing two bowls filled with orange liquid and lovingly garnished.
>They are accompanied by two silver baskets giving off a heavenly, buttery, cheesy aroma, and covered with cloth napkins.
>As other wait ponies set the dishes before you, the head wait pony lovingly titles the dish for you.
>"Tomato bisque, avec croissants du fromage!"
>It's basically the fanciest grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup you've ever seen.
/That looks REALLY good./
>You lean down and sniff the soup.
>It smells wonderful, but you wonder why there is a faint alarm bell ringing in your head.
>Also, the pepper mill seems to be acting up again.
"This is going to be amazing."
>You take one of the fresh, steaming croissants from your basket and dip it carefully in the soup, then bite the dampened end off.
>It's buttery and flaky and cheesy, and tastes just as good as it looks and smells, and for a moment you are transported in your mind to your mother's kitchen table.
>She loved to make you grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup.
>"Would either of you care to order anything from the Sweets Trolley?" a wait pony asks.
>Err on the side of being a good host.
"Yes, please bring it to our table."
>Anya leans in to sniff at her soup, the way she had seen you do.
>Her reaction, however, is profoundly different from yours.
>The Yak Princess freezes, then shakes her head violently.
>And then she sneezes directly into the bowl.
>Tomato bisque goes everywhere.
>Even though you are wearing a significant quantity of tomato soup now, your upbringing demands a response.
"Bless you."
>And then you are surrounded by indignant, snooty ponies who are also wearing tomato soup.
>"You big idiots! Look what you did to my wife's dress!"
>"Disgraceful!"
>"Barbarians!"
>"Hooligans! That's what you are"
>Your temper snaps.
"Oh yeah? Well you're another one!"
>"WHAT? Why, the absolute NERVE!"
>"Confounded cheek!"
"Seriously, back off before I get mad!"
>"How dare you sir! I'll have an action of assault against you for that!"
>"Who let these... aliens dine here anyhow?"
>"ENOUGH!!!" Anya bellows, and flips the table.
/Damn, shit just got real./
>Anya snorts and charges the table full of snooty ponies, which clears with inhuman speed as she uses her horns to flip that table as well.
>She then proceeds to trample the table to smithereens.
/Oh. Shitballs./
>"Call the guards! Call the guards!"
>The wait pony with the Sweets Trolley flees in terror at Anya's approach, as she flips the cart with her horns, flinging pastries everywhere.
/That's not gone well./
>Then, Anya turns to you and lowers her head, pawing the floor.
>There's nowhere for you to run.
/So this is it./
/This is how I die./
>Princess Anastasia of Yakyakistan charges you, and then with an almost delicate flick of her head, flips you onto her own back.
>You are momentarily surprised to find yourself not gored to death.
"ANYA! What are you-"
>"HANG ON ANONYMOUS!"
>You feel her muscles surge and ripple beneath you as you cling to her long hair for dear life.
>Anya picks up steam rapidly, tossing furnishings aside as she goes.
>The crowd of snooty ponies flees in fear and, in the process, clears a path for her...
>Straight to the giant picture window with the breathtaking view of the mountains.
>Realizing what's about to happen, you bury your face in her blanket, as Princess Anastasia crashes through the window and flees into the night.
>Taking you with her.
 
 
PART 3
 
>Welp, this is officially the
>WORST.
>DATE.
>EVER.
>Let's review.
>First, you got roped into it for diplomatic reasons.
>Then your comfy clothes were bedazzled.
>You were forced into an hours-long study session to prepare you.
>You were still almost completely unprepared for events as they unfolded.
>Your date got tipsy and trashed approximately half of a very fancy restaurant.
>Your date pissed off, and/or assaulted, a number of very snobby and presumably influential ponies.
>Not to mention that your date was a lumbering shaggy beast with more hair than sense.
>Oh, and let's not forget that she got upset and fled into the night, taking you with her.
>At least you haven't been arrested yet, but you're sure that outcome is inevitable at this point.
>And Mr. Anon's Wild Ride is far from over.
>You suffered a few superficial cuts and bruises when Princess Anastasia had flung you onto her back and jumped through a large picture window.
>If the yak princess had sustained any injuries, she wasn't letting them bother her as she tore through the streets like a hairy juggernaut.
>They didn't slow her down as she broke free of the town limits and into open fields.
>If anything she had increased speed, such that you were terrified to simply let go and fall off, as you probably ought to have done by now.
>She didn't show any signs of slowing down, in fact, until she reached the tree line.
>Only then her mad stampede slowed, and finally stopped.
>As Princess Anastasia pants, slowly cooling down, you finally unclench your aching hands and drop into a pile of leaf litter.
>Your relief at not being killed or seriously injured quickly gives way to boiling anger.
"That's great. That's just PEACHY! 'Go on a date,' they said, 'It'll be fun,' they said! ARRRGH!!"
>You scramble to your feet, taking stock of your surroundings.
"It's now just after sunset, and I've been yelled at, insulted, and finally KIDNAPPED by a princess!"
>You angrily kick the pile you just climbed out of, scattering up a brief flurry of dead leaves.
>It does precisely nothing for your current mood.
"If I ever got home and told anyone this story, they'd lock me up for a lunatic!!!"
>"I-I s-sorry I r-ruin everything," a quiet, shuddering voice whimpers.
>You turn towards the sound of the voice, fully prepared to serve up a piece of your mind.
>In the last, waning rays of the sunset, you see several drops fall from the yak princess's face, spattering on the forest floor.
>And suddenly you feel like a total jerk.
>She was confused and frightened.
>And she had done what she thought was right.
>She had gotten you both out of the situation that had confused and frightened her.
"Anya..."
>"No look at me!"
>She turns to face away from you, scattering a few more tears as she does.
>You stand there for a bit, letting your anger cool off and considering your words carefully as Princess Anastasia tries and fails to suppress her snuffling sobs.
"Anya, I'm sorry. I'm not yelling at you. I'm...just blowing off steam-"
>"I wreck EVERYTHING! BAAAWWWWW!!!"
>Nothing in Twilight's study session had covered what to do if Princess Anastasia turned into an emotional basket case.
>You're completely on your own in uncharted territory now.
>You walk up to her and tentatively put an arm around what you hope are her shoulders.
>She doesn't pull away from you, and her crying begins to subside.
"Anya, can I tell you another story?"
>She sniffles a bit.
>"Like one about your mother?"
"Kinda like that, yeah."
>A few more sniffles.
>"Yes. I want story."
"Okay."
>You take your arm off her and take a few steps away towards a fallen tree, where you settle yourself.
>Her head follows your movement, a good sign.
"At my school, there were a lot of rules."
>You pause, gathering your memories.
"And I thought a lot of them were stupid."
 
>You had attended on scholarship, because even at an early age you had proven to be very smart.
>Most of the other kids were there because their parents had metric butt-tons of money, and a very specific set of values that they expected their children's education to reinforce.
>From the very first day, you had been marked as an outsider by all but a few.
>There was a strict social pecking order among the student body, and some kids never let you forget it.
>One in particular seemed to have appointed himself as your personal tormenter.
>He never passed up an opportunity to belittle you, insult you, or sabotage you.
>He would walk up behind you and kick your books out of your hand.
>If you ever left your assignments unattended, he could be counted upon to throw them out of the nearest convenient window.
>The final straw had come when he had learned there was a girl at the school you were sweet on.
>He had talked to her one day.
>You don't know what he said to her, but from then on she would burst into tears and flee whenever you came near her.
>You confronted him about it, and you still remember exactly what he had said to you.
>"This place isn't for people like you, it's for people like me."
>"My father is important, your father is a nobody."
>"That means I can do whatever I want, and you have to kiss my ass."
>The next thing you remember two teachers were pulling you off of him.
>He was flat on his back with his face bleeding, and half the student body were cheering you on, in spite of the teachers yelling at them to get back to class.
>Within the hour, you had been sent home with a letter of expulsion for fighting.
>Your mother, gentle soul that she was, had been appalled and had read you the Riot Act.
>Your father, on returning home from work, had asked you what happened, and listened attentively while you told him.
>You still remember his exact words as well.
>"You know, you really can't do anything about whatever other people think of you. But you must never let them define you. Only you can define you."
>"You did well standing up for yourself, and I'm proud of you."
>"Now, let's see about finishing your schooling somewhere there aren't so many assholes."
>You chuckle, remembering that moment particularly, since it was the first time you had ever heard your father curse.
 
>"What means asshole?"
>Princess Anastasia has moved closer to you while you were telling your story.
"Umm, it's pretty flexible, but I think he meant stupid, obnoxious, self-entitled, contemptible jerks."
>Anya nods.
>"Asshole. Is good word. Some ponies are assholes."
"I think you'll find that any demographic group you can name probably has a fair percentage of assholes."
>Suddenly a memory strikes and causes you to giggle.
"Did you see what happened after you kicked over the dessert cart?"
>She flinches a bit. "No."
"Heh, a pie flew across the room and hit that smarmy Maître'd pony right in the puss."
>You see Anya shuffling nervously, as you laugh at another memory.
"And then, those pompous asses scattering like tenpins when you flipped their table?"
>In retrospect, with a little bit of time between you and that disastrous dinner, it begins to seem uproariously funny now.
>You can almost imagine the scene in black and white, with three funny little men responsible for all the mayhem.
>That thought makes you laugh out loud.
>"What is funny?"
"Well it's..."
>You momentarily consider the merits of trying to explain The Three Stooges to her.
"I guess it means, don't worry about it. Things will be alright. At least, it means that I forgive you, okay?"
>Anya takes another step closer to you.
>"You mean that?"
>You still wish you could see her eyes.
"Yeah, I do."
>Tentatively you reach towards her face, and she flinches a bit.
"Sorry. May I?"
>Anya hesitates, and then nods.
>"You may."
>Moving slowly, you carefully lift her veil of hair.
>A pair of large, brown eyes, still bright with tears, peers anxiously back at you.
>Anya seems to be holding her breath.
"Has anyone ever told you that have really pretty eyes?"
>Direct hit.
>Anya blushes and turns her head away, her hair falling back over her eyes.
>"You no mean that."
"I do mean that. I've been wondering all evening what your eyes looked like, and now I finally found out."
>Anya shuffles nervously once more, and in a voice so quiet you have to strain to hear it, says, "I... I like your eyes too."
>Away in the distance, you hear a stentorian voice holler, "Princess Anastasia!"
>Followed by a familiar feminine voice calling, "Anonymous!"
/Shit, that's Twilight./
"I guess we've been missed."
>Anya turns back to you.
>"They look for us!"
"Yup."
>The yak princess takes another step closer to you.
>"Please Anonymous, before they find us, do one more thing?"
"Sure."
>"G-give me kiss."
"What?"
>"Please!"
>You hear the distant voices calling your names getting closer.
>You raise your hands to either side of her face.
"As you wish, Anya."
>And you lean forward and give her a quick kiss right in the middle of her nose.
>"That what ponies call kiss?"
>She sounds vaguely disappointed.
"That's how humans kiss. I think ponies usually just rub noses-"
>You are interrupted as Anya opens her mouth and her thick, glistening pink tongue quickly crosses the gap between her muzzle and your face.
>The warm, muscular appendage drags roughly up your face, nearly knocking you over and leaving behind a copious quantity of yak slobber.
>You are stunned into silence.
>"That how we kiss in Yakyakistan."
"Umm..."
>"Anonymous! There you are!"
>Princess Twilight comes into view, with three yaks following behind her.
>You hastily retrieve your handkerchief from your jacket and wipe off your face, as Anya turns to face them.
>You recognize one of the yaks as Prince Rutherford.
>"YOU! HUMAN! IF YOU HAVE HARMED ONE HAIR ON MY SISTER..."
>"YOU WILL NOT HARM! ANONYMOUS IS GENTLE!"
>Prince Rutherford stares at his sister, then begins yelling at her in rapid-fire Bos, their native language.
>Princess Anastasia interrupts him, also yelling in Bos, effectively cutting you out of the conversation.
>"Anonymous! how could you let things get so far out of control?" Twilight upbraids you.
>You can only shrug in reply.
"I never had any control, I was just along for the ride. Can you understand anything they're saying?"
>Twilight clicks her tongue in irritation.
>"No, I never studied Bos."
>The argument grows more heated, and now both Rutherford and Anastasia are punctuating their sentences by stamping their hooves at each other.
"Why didn't you tell me she was Prince Rutherford's sister?"
>"I thought you knew!"
>The argument reaches a crescendo, and Anya actually shouts down her brother.
>In the midst of her tirade you hear one word you recognize: "ASSHOLE!"
>The argument over, Anya turns abruptly and walks back towards you, wearing a determined look.
>Well, it would be more accurate to say that she stomps back towards you, stopping about a foot away.
>"Anonymous! You said you like blanket, yes?"
>You nod.
"Yes, I do. It's very pretty."
>"GOOD!"
>With that she turns and seizes the ornately woven green blanket in her teeth, pulling it off her back and offering it to you.
>Behind her, you see the other three yaks' jaws fall open in shock.
>Not knowing what else to do, you hold out your arms, and Anya drops her blanket into them.
>"You take to keep warm in winter, and think of me!"
"Wow, uh...thank you, Princess Anastasia."
>She nods and turns, stomping back towards her brother.
>"WE GO NOW!" she yells as she stomps past the other yaks.
>Prince Rutherford glares at you before he turns to follow his sister.
>Princess Twilight Sparkle looks just as confused as you feel.
"Wow. Touchy."
 
------
 
>You adamantly refuse to be teleported again, so you and Princess Twilight walk back to the castle.
>She keeps up a running commentary on all the mistakes you supposedly made that evening, which you largely tune out.
>She informs you that the restaurant has declared you persona-non-grata, which you had fully expected.
>She also tells you that the guard expects you to make a statement to them about the night's events.
>She agonizes over how she's going to tell Princess Celestia about what happened.
>Twilight Sparkle is also rather upset that it doesn't particularly seem to bother you.
>"And why were you calling her 'Anya' the whole time?"
"She asked me to call her that."
>"But it's SO inappropriate!"
>You've already had a long day, and want nothing more than a hot bath and a good night's sleep.
>Twilight is still haranguing you as you enter the castle.
>Once safely inside, you immediately strip off the ridiculous sash, your vandalized jacket, and the gaudy vest and tie and drop them on the floor.
>A magical aura immediately develops around them.
>"Have a care Anonymous! I worked hard on those!"
>Rarity levitates the abandoned garments onto a hanger which settles onto the coat rack.
"Sorry Rarity, I'm just a bit tired because I've been listening to this all the way home."
>You point at Twilight Sparkle.
>"You have NOT been listening! Do you even have any idea of the setback you probably dealt to Equestrian / Yakyakistani relations tonight?"
"Probably not. As I explained to you earlier, I'm not a diplomat."
>Spike appears, having heard the commotion, or more likely Rarity.
>"Hey Anon-WHOA! Looking kinda rough there, dude. You want some coffee?"
>FINALLY, some sympathy.
"Yes, please and thank you very much."
>"On it!"
>Spike suddenly stops in mid-pace and belches a green flame into the air.
>A scroll drops out of the midst of the fireball and Spike neatly catches it.
>For the first time, Twilight Sparkle appears at a loss for words.
>"Message for you from Princess Celestia, Twilight!" Spike announces.
>Twilight Sparkle gulps, regarding the scroll as though it were a radioactive spider.
>Finally, her expression melts into one of tired resignation, and she levitates the scroll over to herself and opens it.
>"Thank you Spike."
>Spike leaves to make you your coffee.
>Rarity appears at your side.
>"So how did things go between you and the Princess after you left the restaurant? Tell me all the juicy details!"
>You, however, are watching a virtual parade of emotions cross Twilight's face as she reads the scroll.
"Umm, is everything all right, Twilight? Princess Celestia isn't too mad, is she?"
>Twilight Sparkle looks up from the scroll, her face now in shock.
>"Well don't keep us in suspense Twilight, what does it say?"
>Twilight Sparkle shakes her head vigorously, and then begins to read aloud from the scroll.
>"Well done, my faithful student! Our Minister of State has just informed me that Prince Rutherford signed a Letter of Intent to establish full diplomatic and trade relations with Equestria!"
"What? Really?"
>"I understand there was something of a kerfuffle at the restaurant, and I have dispatched Prince Blueblood to take care of everything, so you needn't worry about that."
>"Well, isn't that simply marvelous!" Rarity exclaims.
>You detect the edge under her voice, knowing that she's still none too fond of Prince Blueblood.
>"You, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie have earned the gratitude of Equestria for your skilled handling of Princess Anastasia's visit, and on a more personal note, my sincerest congratulations to Anonymous as well!"
"Me? What did I do?"
>"Go on, what else?" Rarity asks.
>"That's it. Signed Princess Celestia, Regent of the Sunlight, et-cetera."
>Twilight drops the scroll on the table with a puzzled frown and picks up a book.
>You recognize it as that book about Yakyakistan's courtship and mating traditions from earlier.
>"Did you hear that Anonymous? Princess Celestia personally congratulated you!" Rarity enthuses.
"Twilight, why are you still reading that book? The date's over."
>"Because I'm still worried."
>You can't help but sigh in exasperation.
"You're always worried. Look, things went haywire, but they seem to have worked out for the best, right?"
>Spike comes in with the coffeepot and four cups.
>"I made extra in case anypony else wants some."
"Ah, thank you Spike, you have no idea how much I needed that right now."
>You pour yourself a cup, then pick up the folded bundle you brought back with you.
"Hey Rarity, check this out!"
>You unfold the blanket and hold it up for her to see.
>"Oh, MY! What a simply BEAUTIFUL example of traditional Yakyakistani craftsmanship!"
"A gift from Her Grace. I guess I made an impression, huh?"
>"Oh the pattern is simply gorgeous! Would it be too much trouble for you to bring it by the Boutique so I could photograph it?"
"Sure, I'd be happy to."
>Rarity's nose wrinkles and she waves a hoof in front of her face.
>"Perhaps you might launder it first?"
>You chuckle at Rarity's prissy reaction until Twilight speaks up again from the other side of the room.
>"Why did you order the soup?"
>You are compelled to sigh in exasperation once more.
"This again? How was I supposed to know that the Special was soup?"
>"You could have asked me to read the menu!"
"What difference does it make at this point?"
>She waves the book at you.
>"Because it says, right in the title, 'DON'T order the soup'!"
>You groan as you fold up the blanket again.
>You can't wait to get it home, it'll probably really tie the room together.
>PAFF! Twilight teleports across the room right in front of you, still levitating the book.
>"WHERE did you get that BLANKET?"
"Princess Anastasia gave it to me, remember?"
>"And you ACCEPTED IT??"
"You were there Twilight, you saw me."
>"Wait, did you kiss her?"
"Not really."
>Twilight scrunches up her face.
>"It's a yes-or-no question! Did you kiss her or not?"
>A moment passes as you sip your coffee.
"She kissed me."
>Twilight's expression melts into one of shock as the glow from her horn fades.
>The book on Yakyakistani courtship and mating traditions succumbs to gravity and drops to the floor.
>Now wearing a dazed expression, Twilight Sparkle begins to pace.
>"Twilight, you seem upset, are you alright?" Rarity asks.
>You have also picked up on the sudden and distinct change in Twilight Sparkle's mood.
"What's wrong Twilight?"
>Twilight paces a bit more, before finally stopping and turning to face you.
>"Anonymous, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to tell you."
>She takes a deep breath.
>"Anonymous, you're engaged."
>...
>...
>A pin dropped in the room at this point would have landed with an audible thud.
>...
>...
"FUCKITTY-WHAT??!!!!!"