Sky's the Limit Ch. 4 - Dancing on Sky

Fucking Finally Edition




>The Carousel Boutique always gave you the precursors to a headache.  Just close enough to make you uncomfortable and blink your eyes in a weird way.  Like a couple of guys standing at the end of a dark street, cracking their knuckles and resting heavy metal bats on their shoulders.

>Except here instead of muscled-thugs there was a unicorn with purple curls, and she brandished pins and measuring tape threateningly instead of bats and sacks full of doorknobs.

>You wish they sold Tylenol here.

>It's not that Rarity wasn't a perfectly nice mare, which she mostly was.  It wasn't even that you minded having to stand still for the past hour while she took your measurements and cut adjustments in cloth, which you mostly didn't.

>”The pins are stabbing me.”

“The path to being fabulous is paved with suffering.  It is our duty to remain graceful.”

>Ribbons of measuring tape slithered around you like eels, constricting your elbows and cutting off valuable circulation.  Rarity grinned as she made adjustments on your collar.  An oddly intimidating gesture as she was balancing six pins in between her teeth.

>”Is Fabulous a place I want to go?  Can't we take the path to “Presentable?”  or “Decent?”  I don't see wh-OW!”  The needles in your cuffs offered their pointed opinion.

”Don't be absurd.  This is a Canterlot ball you're attending.  You MUST be at the zenith of your absolute best!  You must be BEYOND your zenith!  After all, you want Luna to have something she'll be proud to show off, yes?”

>”I guess?”  She and her needles frowned.  Several more sharp objects drifted closer to you, like sharks homing in on a drop of blood.  “I mean yes.  Yes.”  Prickly pieces of metal assumed less threatening positions.  Your shoulders slumped.  A ruler prods the small of your back.

“Don't do that, dear.”

>Your shoulders unslump.

>”God help me, but I really do want to look my best.”  It was the wildest thing.  You like to 'think' you leave your house in the morning looking like something not completely embarrassing.  You even know how to clean yourself up pretty well when necessary.  But for this ball...you wanted to look downright dashing.  Suave.  Impeccable.  You wanted to ooze new-hotness.

>But the source of that drive was not new, and the recognition unsettled you.  It was that same unstoppable monster that made you determined to prepare the perfect dinner date for Luna those scant few weeks ago.  That mental ogre that demanded you IMPRESS.  HER.

>So...yes, you did want Luna to have something to show off.  Even if that did sound entirely wrong in your head.

>You wanted to say this 'ball'  was no big deal.  That it would just be a standard evening of dancing and conversation, but the voice that said that inside your head was too busy snickering.  Luna was way too excited when she asked you to attend to assume this night would even be in the same area code as 'standard.'

>You've gone to dances before.  School stuff.  County fair stuff.  New years eve and Halloween parties, even if you may have been a little too intoxicated to quite remember how those went.  You woke up smiling at any rate.

>But this was something different. The word 'Grand' was being thrown around a lot.  There was a Guest List, and a Prefix Menu, and if you got too drunk and started singing Blair Crimmins songs Rarity said you'd get Kicked Out.

>You were going to need a little more finesse than usual.  But this would be new and fun!  Hopefully!  You were up for the challenge.  You just need a few things cleared up.

>”Hey Rarity?”

“Hmm?”

>”How do you dance, anyway?”

“On our hooves, generally.”

>Her eyes twinkled as she laughed.

>”Don't worry,  Anon.  Really, don't, you're slouching again, it'll wrinkle the fabric.  That's better.”

>You smile weakly.

“No one is going to expect you to compete with Rudolph Neigheyev, but there are a few waltzes they ALWAYS have at these events.  A smart gentleman like you will have no problem learning them.  I know a few mares here in town who can teach you the basics, and if that  isn't enough, I'd be more than happy to lend a hoof.”

>She pats your shoulder.

>”Rarity, you have no idea how much I am glad to know some person...somepony like you.”  She scoffs as her curls bounce dismissively.

“Oh Anon, everyp0ny knows somep0ny like me.  They're rarely as splendid as I am, however.”

>”And you are splendidly right about me looking my absolute best for this dance.  Better than I've ever looked in my entire life.”  Your voiced hardened slightly towards the end of that sentence.  If you weren't half-bound by yellow ribbons and dark shades of cloth you would've arched backwards and cackled madly towards the sky.  You had an objective, by thunder!

>Rarity curved an eyebrow and nodded approvingly.

“You're in good company, Anon.  The best in town, in fact.  With a little patience and a few deft touches, you certainly will.”

“Yeah well the only touch he definitely needs is his hands on Luna's flank.”

>”Oh Christ.”  Rarity raised her muzzle up and frowned as Rainbow strutted into the boutique.

“We try to keep the vulgarities outside.  Trashy talk belongs in the bin out back.”

>Rain nudges you hard in the shoulder, shaking loose several yards of ribbon.

“Hey Anon, five bits if you score with Luna in a back alley.  Another five if it's against a dumpster!”

“Rainbow Dash, honestly!”

>”Why are you so evil?”  Hope has long abandoned you to the tortures of Rainbow Dash. She had in fact, continued spying on you that night in your backyard.  She did see everything.  She has not shut up about it.

“I'm just ribbing ya, buddy!  He's fine with us talking about it, y'know.  'Cus he thinks Luna's smoking.”

>You do your best to ignore her.

“Don't you think she's smoking?  All tall dark and regal.  He totally thinks she's hot.”

>You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Aw, he's ignoring me.  That means he totally digs her.”

>“ijustdigheridonttotallydigher.”

“And he's muttering too.  Dude, you've fallen harder than a tree for her.  Look at his ears, they're turning red.  We can use 'em as a heater for winter!”  She flutters up right to your face.

“IT'S OKAY! WE KNOW!  YOU'VE TOTALLY BEEN MARKED AS EACH OTHER'S TERRITORY.”

>You want her to stop speaking the truth.   Rarity covers her mouth with her hoof and turns away as she stifles a giggle.

“The flustered look suits you.”

>WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE YOU!?

>Rainbow darts blurrily around the little soapbox you're standing on examining the various cuts and measurements of your new suit.  She smirks and waggles her brows while she turns towards Rarity.

“You're doing the bangingest job on 'em.  He's gonna look so hot we're gonna have to move him to the ball in a freezer.”

>That would admittedly make for a sweet entrance...

- - - -

>The open archways of the dance hall are lit heavily.  Ponies mill about and chatter happily, with nary a hint of what is to be unleashed.

>The huge oak doors swing open.  A team of guards pull in an enormous metal box lined with chains.  They cut the locks and the door slams open.

>The hall is immediately filled with an icy mist.  Frost covers the rims of all drinks in the rooms.

>You step out of the freezer, snow dashed lightly over your shoulders.   You have sunglasses made of ice.  The room goes quiet.

>”Yeah.  This is pretty cool.”

>Luna falls from the ceiling and into your arms.

“Oh Anon!  Your chill, mysterious demeanor is the only thing that can handle my fiery passions.”

>The two of you make out in front of everyone.

>They all clap.

>Someone gives you a bag full of croissants and money.

- - - - - -

>”How much would it cost to rent a freezer?”  Rarity shakes her head.

“We are not locking you inside an icebox, Anon.”

“Don't choke his style.  It's got him this far, after all.”

>Rarity sighs in her own, practiced, dramatized way. The needles, scissors, rulers, and streamers of tape and cloth flap away and fold themselves up into neat positions.  You find that you can actually breathe for the first time in the past two hours.

“I've gotten everything I need.  I should be done by tomorrow evening.  Perhaps morning after next at the latest.  Plenty of time to make some final adjustments.  I'll let miss Dash speak on her ideas of 'style'  all she wants.”

>Rainbow snickers and hovers unevenly across the floor.

“Ease up!  My 'style' is gonna gel great with this party!”

>Rarity cringes just a sliver.  Rarity was attending the ball, as she received an invitation through her own extensive and well-placed connections.  Rainbow however, was also attending, receiving her invite through your one and only ridiculously extensive and well-placed connection.  Rarity was thrilled that two of her closest friends would be attending such a high-profile event with her.  But Rainbow attending a high-profile event meant that she had to be unmistakably present.

“It's a 'ball' not a party.  You've been to one before, you know the difference.”

“And it was the dullest thing ever until we turned it into a party.”

>”Oh, so this sort of thing isn't new to either of you then?”  Rarity turns a polished shade of red and laughs unsteadily.

“Yes, well, me and the rest of the girls have attended our fair share of canterlot festivities.  However  the Grand Galloping Gala was more of an...incident.  I'd reaalllyyy rather not talk about it.”

>Rainbow hovers in close to your ear and whispers.

“The stallion she was crushing on was a massive tool.”

>”Oh I hate it when that happens.”  Rarity stuffs two puffs of fabric into her ears and trots off.

“NOT TALKING ABOUT IT!”

>Rainbow snickers again, her voice sounding like matches striking against each other.

“I'll have to tell you about that one later.  C'mon, let's get out of here.  This place gives me a headache.”

>Presumably dismissed, you step down from your slightly-raised platform and head out of the Boutique, your joints popping in happy relief as they're given free range of motion once more.  Rainbow breathes deep as she steps outside.

“Does that place ever smell weird to you?  Like cat?  Not a lot, but just enough to know that one of those things are creeping around in there?”

>You slow your step slightly as your brain picks apart the particles in your nostrils.  “Now that you mention it...”  You didn't hate cats, but you didn't exactly appreciate the smell.

“I thought so.  Don't tell Rarity though, I don't want her freaking out and shaving Opal.”

>”You think she'd do that?”

“Not really, but it would distract her from working on your suit.  Her clothes never smell like cat though, so don't worry.”

>You weren't even thinking about that.  Did you smell like cat now?  Would you smell like cat later?  Did Luna like cats?

>”You got that weird look on your face again.”

>She wasn't even looking at you.  You don what you assume to be a non-weird look.  You look at another passing pony.  They look at you like the now-regarded-as-completely-unremarkable thing that you are.  Which was a perfectly friendly look.

>A stark difference from the days when they still weren't entirely sure whether-or-not you were liable to eat them.  You miss those days.  It was an easy way to make their lives more interesting.  “So did you strut into the Boutique just for laughs?”  She looked back at you quizzically.

“Uh.  About half-and-half.  But really, there's a few things I have to pick up for the dance.  Stuff a little girlier than what I normally get.”

>You 'hmm' a little bit.  “So you're not going to throw on some dirty rags for the ball then?”

“I -know- how to dress myself.”

>”You actually own dresses?”

“I'm allowed to own dresses.

>”Well, Rarity isn't working on anything for you, I just thought that...”  She look at you through straight-lidded eyes.

“Saying I don't know how to look hot on my own or something?”

>You wave your hand in a so-so gesture.  “I think you'd have to read a book or two at least.”  She laughs and kicks your shin lightly with her hind-leg.

“There's gonna be a lot of folks at this party, Anon.  You're not going to be the only one there trying to impress someone.”

>”Wow.  You after anyone specific?”

“Anyone who can get me into the after-parties.”

>”After-parties?”  She nods and smiles like she's up to something.

“Oh yeah.  That's where all the REAL fun is.  Those things get wild, Anon.  I'm talking broken-windows, dancing on the ceiling, waking up on rooftops kinda crazy.”

>That sounded like a pretty good hoot..

“It's where all the cool and important ponies go.  The sort of places where you make hard connections and friendships built on promising not to tell anyp0ny what you saw the treasurer of Las Pegasus doing with Fleur de Lis and the pool noodle.

>”What was the treasurer doing with Fluer de Lis and the pool noodle?”  She twirls around in the air with a hoof dragging along the ground.

“I said I promised not to tell anyp0ny, didn't I?”

>”I suppose...”

“But you're not a p0ny, so c'mere.”

>She tells you what they did.

>Several hundred miles away Fluer de Lis and the treasurer feel very embarrassed, but aren't quite sure why.

“And then the noodle broke in half.”

>Rainbow looks uncharacteristically patient while you get over the shock.  You had no idea they were capable of such depravity.  “Do they all get that intense?”

“That was one of my more family-friendly stories.”

>”These parties sound awesome.”

>She flies up to you and puts an arm around your shoulder.

“Oh, they so incredibly are.  If you play your cards right maybe I can smuggle you and Luna into one.  Finally get the two of you around to playing a game of 'getting into each other's underwear and rutting each other raw.”

>”Why are you so interested in this?  When we decide to...you know...then we'll...you know.”

“Do you even want to 'you know?'”

>Your ears are deafened by a thousand arguing voices in your head.  Some were yelling “OF FREAKING COURSE WE DO!' others crying 'NO NO OH GOD WHAT WHY!?!?' and one lone voice muttering 'I want to go home.  Someone please take me home.'  You have to cover your head and crouch down on the sidewalk for a few moments to catch your breathe.

“I'm taking that as a maybe?”

>You raise a finger.  “You'll take it as a 'when it happens.'  Look, right now it's just...it's nice.  I like it.  I like her, yes.  A lot.”

“You totally dig her.”

>“Fine.  I do.  I could get to the other side of the planet with how much I dig her.  It's just been a while, understand?  I haven't exactly been making rounds in this place.”

“I didn't even notice.”

>You hold your hands out in front of her face. You're walking on a very thin tightrope right now.  She rolls her eyes and shuts her mouth.  “And it's been a while for her too.  We both need to go easy on this.  I mean, she IS different after all, and I'm not just talking about the whole 'different-species hot-dog!' thing.  We're still feeling each other out here.”

“You like feeling each other up alright.”

>You refrain from screaming.  “I walked right into that one, fair enough.  But you know what I mean -we're trying to wrap our heads around this.  Wondering where everything is going to fit together.”

>She stands on her hind legs and begins to motion with her hooves.

“Well you see, you gotta put your di-”

>”I'M GONNA HAVE LUNA UNINVITE YOU!”  You cover her mouth.  She muffles indignantly before licking your palm.  You pull it away and wipe it off on your shirt.  “Gonna need to have that amputated, thanks.”

“You yank it too much with that hand anyhow.  Look Anon, if she's into you at all like you're into her, then there's no question about it.  I mean,  how excited was she when she asked you to the dance?”

>You think back to that afternoon.  “Pretty excited.”

“Alright then.  That and you two get the dumbest looks on your faces when you're hanging around each other.  Don't think for one second she hasn't made up her mind about you.  She's obviously ready to go. Just make sure you're geared up for it.”

>Her words make your back shiver.  It takes you a moment to come up with a properly smart remark.  You and her trade off a few more volleys before setting off again, but now your mind cannot stop racing against itself.

>Were you willing?  The majority says yes.  But were you ready?  To be perfectly honest with yourself, the idea of playing moon-explorer with Luna kinda freaked you out.

>She's a magical pony princess demigoddess blah-blah-blah, you'll deal with that later.  Pinkie already set you on the right track to contend with that bit of confusion.  But there was one thing that REALLY bothered you -kissing her was pretty much the equivalent of making out with a thunderstorm and a blizzard, so it's logical to think that sex would be like sticking your dick in an electrical socket built in arctic waters.  And that was something you were implicitly raised not to do.

>You adjust your underwear absentmindedly.

>The prospect both excited and terrified you for evident reasons.

>Sure, yeah, there were other things to take into consideration.  Like the plumbing.  Would you have to hike your leg around so she could-

>And now your seriously thinking about the mechanics of this sort of thing.  How long ago was it that all you wanted to do was throw a sack of dookie at Luna for ruining your evening?  And now you're wondering about the most workable positions for maximum intimacy and maximum fun.

>You don't even groan at the direction your life has taken.  Just roll with it.  It could be worse.

>You follow Rain in a half-daze around town shops.  She was right.  She was definitely getting some girlier things than you'd expect her to even consider.  Perfume.  Eyeliner.  Some kind of cream.   She asks your opinions on certain colors and differing scents.  By and large she seemed to have an advanced understanding of balancing colo-

>Hold the freaking phone.

>”Why am I doing this with you?”  Rainbow pulls her snout out of a small jar of velvet-colored powder and mild reverie.

“Huh?”

>”We're shopping around like we're going to stay at your place and paint our fingernails and do high-lights.”  You look around the store your in, painted in bright, happy yellows and cool blues.  The floor is bordered in earth-tones.  These kind of places are always bordered in earth-tones.  Rainbow leans her head into her shoulders, trying to use her mane to avoid looking at you.

“Yeah...thing is, I'm not one-hundred percent on what I need to get.  Y'know.  Just needed someone who's opinion isn't total smoke-stacks.”

>”You couldn't have anyone else tag along?   Like Rarity or-”

“Rarity has style, no doubt.  But I don't think she'd exactly dig on what I'm trying to go for.”

>”You couldn't bring Fluttershy along?”

“She's busy today.  Besides, she couldn't make up her mind about anything.  I need someone who can be merciless.  Fast.  Not keep me ping-ponging between mascara or whatever.”

>You are pretty ruthless.

“Besides, I'd feel kinda weird buying this sorta stuff on my own.”

>Rainbow glances unfurtively at a multicolored row of hand soaps arranged along a wall.  Good God.  This is what girls on tv and presumably in real-life use their gay best friends for.  You feel your masculinity plummeting. You realize you're holding a bag.

>You look at it as though it's existence is sacrilege.”Why am I holding this bag?”

“You bought that at the last store.”

>”I did?  Why didn't you stop me?”  You look inside the offending container.  It's holds a set of shampoo and hair conditioner that cost ten bits more than you would deem agreeable.  “What the...”

“You've been not-all-there today.”

>Obviously.  The shampoo was coconut scented.  You only buy ocean-spray when you can.

“I know, it's weird.  Had about all I can take, too.  I need to eat something covered in hot-sauce.”  She picks up her own bags like they're full of contraband and the two of you smuggle your way out of the store that is undoubtedly named after some 'bed bath and beyond' pun.  You step outside and glance at the storefront sign as you walk away.  Yup.  It is.

>It's just how this world works.

>You and Rainbow then go off to eat an abundance of spicy food.  After giving a few tastebuds third-degree burns you both call it a day and part ways.  You both avoided further discussion on the ball.  Rainbow seemed to regard the dance more emphatically than she was letting on.  She was buying -feminine- products of all things.

>This ball was niggling at your mind as well.  You'd leave for Canterlot early evening the day after tomorrow.  It existed in that weird time frame that seemed miles away, yet close enough that you could feel it breathing on the back of your neck.

>The anxiety was touching you in uncomfortable places.  You felt a sudden urge to get airborne, but you needed to keep your mental state grounded for the time being.  You stopped by Twilight's housebrary to get a book on waltzes and felt like such a sorry nerd for doing so.  But this was something you needed to do.

>Luna invited you to a a ball.  Those green eyes of hers blazed when you said you'd go.  Of course you'd go.  There was going to be music and fine clothing, and a host of things you weren't used to, but you didn't care.  It was going to be an entire night the two of you would spend together, and if she wanted to spend it dancing you weren't going to let her be disappointed.

>You spend the evening thumbing through pages and looking at diagrams for dance movements designed to be performed on four legs.  The odds of you learning this and not embarrassing yourself were already stacked against you.

>But that wasn't going to stop you.  She wanted to dance.  You read through the steps once. Twice.  Ten times.  Figured out the basic patterns and rhythms and beats.  Tried your best to break down and find the core rhyme of the steps, pictured the swing of legs in your head, the sway of the band that played in your mind.

>You broke out your sketchbook, reconstructed the movements for a two-legged person. It was a fun exercise, and you turned distracted and cranked out a few dozen gesture drawings you were quite pleased with.  You set them away.  Set up a mirror in your living room, and methodically went through the motions.

>You were grateful you were by yourself, the sight of you tripping over criss-crossed ankles and twisting your back to look at pictures and books you had splayed over the walls and tables was worthy of more than a few laughs

>You pretend your living-room is an expansive ballroom, adorned with golden sashes and chandeliers  large enough to carry the sun.  The floor is white, the marble smooth and curved, cream-colored like gently undulating clouds.
>There's an orchestra somewhere, blurred far off in the horizon.  They're waiting for your signal.

>You give it to them.   Their music is softened, playing so far away, but still pleasant.

>You put one foot in front of the other, realize it's the wrong one and start over.

- - - -


>Lapel.  You're wearing a lapel.  Until twenty minutes ago you weren't sure what a lapel even was.  Your shoes feel tight around the front, but you can power through that.  Everything else about you was great, though.  You looked sharp enough to cut steel.  You showered thoroughly, put on the right cologne, and dressed yourself with all the correct layers in the exact order that Rarity told you.

“Are you ready yet, Anon?”

>”Just about,”  That was her, in fact.  You and Rainbow met at the Boutique to prepare, and allow Rarity to apply any final touches her keen eyes would surely find necessary.  You straighten out your cuffs and smooth over your eyebrows.  You take a sniff of your sleeves.  Didn't smell the least bit like cat.

>You strike several poses in front of the mirror, say a few of the more ludicrous quotes you can remember from spy movies.  All you needed was a suave english accent and a handgun and you could charm your way into the finest panties the world over.

>You open the dressing room door with an incredibly nonchalant look on your face.  Rarity immediately fusses over you, poking and prodding away any errors you may have missed.

“You look absolutely above-and-beyond.  The fit around your shoulders is wonderful.  I was a tad worried about that, but you wear it well.”

>She takes a step back to admire her handiwork.

“Ooh, I wanna see!”

>Rainbow pounces into the room, taking position next to Rarity.    Her eyes trail you up and down, looking impressed.  You are as well.  It's very clear they've gone all-out on themselves as well.  Rarity's dress is wavy, not quite too long.  Creams and deep watery blues dance around her curves.  Her hair is pulled up in the front, and spills out around her back, achieving a waterfall effect when coupled with her full curls.  A hair piece with hundreds of small green marbles weaved through her mane.

>Rain's outfit has a more geometric effect, cut in narrow lines and angles to accentuate her athletic physique.  Kept simple around the joints for easy movements, but with more flair around  the neck and chest. Her hair was more feathery than normal.  Airy enough to let light softly diffuse through it, dancing around a golden leaflet brochette.  She was wearing the eyeliner you picked out.

>You grunt an approval.  “I gotta say,”  Rarity runs a hoof through her mane.

“We're undeniably stunning?”

“We know it.”

>They strike a complementary pose.  Their eyes flutter as they hear camera flashes in their heads.  Vain little monsters.  “We're all ready now, right?   The carriage is going to show up in twenty minutes.  They're gonna be sweeping jaws up off the floor all night by the time we're done with 'em.”

>Rainbow stamps the floor.

“Hah!  It should be illegal to look this good.”

“Then we'd be locked away for life,darling.”

>You watch with rapt interest as they polished each other's egos.  Not that it wasn't unwarranted.  -They DID look good.  Something about that fluttered around your mind like an errant hamburger wrapper.

>The girls put on one more layer of spit-shine on each other while you practice steps and ran through basic cornerstones of etiquette that Rarity taught you.  On the whole you felt good about the upcoming night of festivities.  The clocked ticked loudly down to your departure time.  You were getting that tingling sensation in the small of your back that meant you were either excited or being cajoled into something that you didn't really want to do.  Rainbow herded the three of you into Rarity's kitchen.

“Okay, making a promise right now.”

>She sets one of her bags onto the table and pulled out three shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“We're either making this night a total blast or we're not gonna make it at all.”

>She worked her surprisingly dextrous hooves around the bottle and opened it.    She eyed Rarity daringly,

“And you can't drink if you don't mean it.  And not-drinking ain't an option.”

>Rarity made a mocking chuckle.

“I'm certainly willing to make a toast for a memorable evening.”

>Rainbow poured the whiskey up to the rim.  Slick, glossy glasses slid over a hard grain table towards you and Rarity.  She gave a wide grin that conveyed sincerity bad influences.

“To nothing but good times.”

“To fine clothes and finer friends.”

>”May we all remember each other's names.”

>You all tip your glasses back.  The warm, stinging liquid trickles down the back of your tongue and burns your throat in a good way.  The intensity takes you by surprise, but you try your best to hide it.  Rainbow looks like she may as well have been drinking water.  Rarity handles it like a champ, or like a Lady, as she'd put it.  Her magic hold on her glass hardly falters.

>There's a knock on the door.  Rainbow slams the cap back on the bottle and growls like a car engine.  You all hustle to the front and open the door, revealing an impeccably dressed chauffeur who leads you to a carriage with very generous leg-room.  You and Rainbow barrel excitedly into the seats with as much grace and posh as you can.  Rarity makes it seem effortless, nearly levitating through the golden-rimmed doors, taking a seat on plush cushions next to the aqua curtains that were pulled gently over the windows.

>You barely have time to settle in before the carriage nudged just the slightest bit.  You get a feeling in your stomach like an elevator taking off, but little else.  You look out the window to see the ground below falling away.  Green and yellow sparks of burning magic trailed behind the carriage.  The sight of approaching sky and the shrinking earth was something you've seen many times, but never quite so smoothly.  Especially within such transport, shielded from the wind and other elements.  Your shoulders began to tense out of habit, and your entire back felt oddly light, being so high up without your wing harness on.

>You look a little ways upwards.  The moon peaked out between rolling, hearty clouds painted in white and deep blues.  Rainbow nudged you in the sides.

“See your marefriend out there?”

>You shrug.  “I wouldn't be surprised.”  You lean back in your seat and twiddle your fingers.  The moon came up a little earlier than normal tonight.  She probably got a head-start on the night sky to get ready in time.  You wonder if any discrepancies between day and night could be attributed to the princesses' ever-changing schedules.  Or would they allow trifles such as stately dances to dictate something so integral as when the sun sets or the moon rises?

>You'd have to ask.

>The carriage takes on an easy silence.  Rainbow is likewise staring out of her window, her head bobbing lightly to whatever outlandish fantasy she's playing with.  Rarity's gaze is half-lidded, but focused on some pin-point in space that you couldn't see.  She looked like she was meditating in some statuesque pose.  Probably slipping into her social butterfly mentality, if she had any other states of mind.

>The glow of Canterlot steadily grew brighter and brighter, like an immense chandelier strewn entirely over the side of a mountain.  The slow descent and entrance was the complete opposite of your last visit.  You were able to appreciate its majesty.  Tall towers, winding streets.  Marble walls.  More purples and heart cut-outs than you were used too, but it worked well.

>The carriage banked gently and touched the ground, it's wheels spinning smoothly.  You could hear the commotion outside -other guests chattering loudly, laughing, calling across the terraces to each other.  The paparrazi was out there as well, their cameras flashing brightly.

>Your transport came to a stop.  Rarity gave her curls a cursory bounce, Rainbow cracked her neck and popped her shoulders.  You didn't have time to think of a ritual so you just made sure your fly was properly zipped just before the door to the carriage swung open.  You stepped out of the carriage and noticed a momentary drop in volume as those on the  crowded landing pad saw a human for the first time.  Things quickly got loud again as the cameras flashed even harder for the same reason.

>Rarity glided out of the carriage behind her, every step, blink, and sideways glance cultivated the leave only the best of impressions.  The cameras couldn't get enough of her.  Her lips had the knowing smile of a professional in her element.

“Always give them a show, Anon,” she whispered.

>Rainbow jumped out next, the dramatic sweeps of her hair and fiery glares threw swagger and confidence around by the bucket full.

“Alright, Rain-Train's coming through, make some way people.”

>The carriage took off behind you, making way for more to land and unload their esteemed guests.  The girls stuck close to your side, which was just as well.  The bright flashes were beginning to blind you.  Those ice-sunglasses were starting to make more sense.  Rarity led the three of you through several grand archways and halls, each one more brilliantly lit and festooned than the last.

>You have never seen so many well-dressed p0nies.  You know Rarity is good, quite possibly the best at clothing design, but range of clothing styles that is being sported tonight is mind-blowing.  Back on Earth you never paid THAT much attention to fashion.  You were aware of it, and recognized extravagance when you saw it, but this was glaring at you like a parade on fire.

>Rarity apparently felt the same way.  Her eyes jumped from dress to dress, picking apart their cuts and colors, noting what she likes, and what she wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.  Rainbow was sizing up the other guests, seeing who she recognized, who she partied with before, and what kind of drinks the waiters carried on silver trays.

>You kept walking.  You also kept making a not insignificant number of heads turn.  Some p0nies leaned into each others ears and whispered their commentaries.  You could see surprise on them, and was that...jealousy?  Odd.

>You reach the grand ball room, and grand is the only word  to describe it.

>The ceiling stretches up and away.  The chandeliers probably weight several tons, and look like small suns for how bright they shine.  You almost think clouds are forming in the upper levels.

>Music carries all around, not too loud, not too quiet.  A generous space in the center for dancing, while several seas worth of crowd ebb and flow around them.  There are balconies, walkways, and terraces in all directions.  Places for people to conversate quietly, drink loudly, or hold each other discretely.

>You felt jumpy.  Your sense were popping away happily.  This was going to be good fun.  There was just one thing missing.

>You scan the area in great swaths looking for her.

>Rarity catches you.

“Oh, she won't be making her appearance yet.  Not until most of the guests arrive.  We're a touch early.”

>”Even more people are going to show up?”  This has to constitute a fire hazard.  Rarity laughs airily.

“Darling, this place is not anywhere close to full capacity.  I'll have to show you one of the large rooms.”

>”This isn't the large room?”

“Not THE large room.  Yes, I made that same face when I found out as well.  But don't let it throw you off balance.”

>She floated across the floor in her dress.

“Just let immerse yourself in the atmosphere in the meantime.  Be glad you can wet your ears a little before she shows up!  You're going to very busy tonight, Anon, and it's going to be a long night.”

>She stopped in front of you.

“So do your best to make it memorable, hm?  For you and Luna.”

>Rainbow trots towards the two of you, holding a glass with her hooves in a way you still don't understand.

“Exactly what I've been telling him.”

“But not in the same spirit.  The two of them need something a little more starry eyed than you what are so...enthused about.”

>Rainbow dismisses her by sticking her tongue out.

“He can get enthused over whatever he wants tonight.”  She nudges your leg.  “Just a matter of time anyway, but don't worry about me breathing over your shoulder all night.   I've got my own targets to hit.  Just don't screw anything up without my supervision, yeah?”

>You cross your arms.  “I don't actually think I can screw anything without you knowing about it.”

“Damn straight.  Ooh, there's the Wonderbolt spring coach!  Gotta fly guys, she's got some good hookups.  I'll catch up later.”

>Rainbow slips away into the crowd to follow the scent of promising debauchery.

“That sort of tenacity is almost admirable.  She has this odd way of wedging herself into the some very exclusive venues.”

>”Am I hearing jealousy?”  She looks at you like a teacher towards a school-child.

“Hmm-hmm.  We simply have our own ways of getting what we want.”

>You take a drink from a passing attendant.  “Think we're gonna see her anymore tonight?”

“Maybe.  Not sober, of course.”

>You nod silently.  The white unicorn pipes up and waves as a group of very well-to-do p0nies recognize her.  She leads you towards them, saying something about helping you 'get a hoof in some of the right doors.'

>They looked up at you with the normal looks of a p0ny seeing a human for the first time.  'He's tall, how does he balance like that, he won't tip over, will he?'  'How does he breath with such a short muzzle?' 'Can he talk?  He can talk, right?'  'Oh dear, he's an ugly  bastard.'

>Rarity sang your praises and introduced you, and they responded in the only way they could to a friend of Rarity's.

“Hello!”

“My pleasure, all mine”

“Don't try the crème de vanille, I think it's gone a touch sour.”

“Good show, what what!”

>”What?”

>You wonder how they pick up British accents with the lack of an actual Britain here.  Writing it off as a mystery never to be solved, you smile in a way that says 'I won't eat you' and act sociable, glancing over at Rarity to make sure you don't commit any unforgivable faux-pas.

>A unicorn with a mighty and impressive blue mustache who introduced himself as Fancypants speaks amicably.

“Lady Rarity says you're something of an engineer?”

>You smile slightly at a chance to brag.  “Just a bit.  Me and a friend developed a personal flying device.  Very compact, very awesome.”

“Fascinating, and how does this device function, primarily?”

>”It's self-powered.  You get a real good exercise”

“I daresay I could use a bit more of that.”

>The unicorn chuckles in a way that makes his makes his facial hair bounce like a broom.

“Is it magic?  I wonder, does your species have, ah, variation?  Any with wings, or horns?”

>”Ooh, nope, we're all pretty uniform as far as looks go.  Two legs, two hands, generally don't come with anything extra.  Back home you'd be considered...”  Now don't say 'freaky crazy magic world-bending flying p0nies who can kick the snot out of trees' you're smarter than that.  “A significant curiousity?  Yeah, very interesting.  Very incredibly interesting.”

>The group of gentlep0nies and mares swelled with a bit of pride at that.  Smooth move, Anon.

>”I think then it would be fair of us to say you're rather interesting yourself.”

>Man this guy is pretty cool.  “But to answer your other question, the harness has a few magical components, but other than that it only needs a little bit of magic for maintenance.”

“So anyone can use it?”

>”Well, I'm still testing it out.”  Having too much fun with it to share.  “But I'm sure I can work with the design so that it'd be more, uh, 'local-friendly'.”  The unicorn raised his eyebrows in interest.

“Captivating.  You're from p0nyville, yes?  I'd like to know as soon as you've fully completed your device.  It's always been many a young colt's dream to take a good soar around the castle, and that sort of thing never quite leaves you.”  He turns towards his gathered entourage.  “But I doubt I'd qualify for wonderbolt try-outs any times soon.”

>Laughter.  Some were a bit louder than what seemed necessary, but this place was pretty loud to start with.  The eager spattering of agreement nudged a small trigger in your head.

>Wait a sec, could this be an avenue to piles of money?  You look towards Rarity, to try and gauge some kind of meaning.  She has a very pleased, very knowing smile.

“The right doors, Anon,” she says quietly.

>Sweet dosh here you come!  You grab a tiny snack from another waiter and chew on it victoriously.  A unicorn with an absence of glorious mustache speaks.

“Tell me Anon, is it true that you will be leading our dear Princess Luna in the first Circadian Dance for the evening?”

>”Circadian wazzums?”  Rarity finds this to be a good moment to interject.

“Yes, Anon, you've received your invitation personally, and you are an esteemed foreign diplomat.”

>”I am?”

>She jabs you sharply.

“No need to be modest.  Yes, Anon does have the honor of first dance.”

“Good show.”

“Always glad to see such genial relations with new folks.”

“Very good deal envious.”

“What a lucky son-of-a-devil!”

“Now who's the poor sod who has to dance with the old bat?”

>The words pierced the air like an arrow.  Rarity's eyes ballooned in her head and twitched in a unquestionably ungraceful manner.

“Anon I suddenly need to find a very unlady-like drink.  I'll be with Rainbow.”

>And she was gone.  Not cool Rarity, not cool.

>A dirty blondish unicorn struts up with a look on his face that regards everything around him as a mild inconvenience.  Or maybe it's constipation.  He looks at you with the intent  of finding a thousand things to dislike.

“Hm, so this is one of honored guests.  I suppose he provides enough spectacle.  At least he smells better than that raucous minotaur we had last month.”

>He sniffs and frowns.
“Marginally.”

>Your 'you should be insulted meter' blinks.  Mister Mustache places himself between the two of you before you could launch a counter-attack.

“Prince Blueblood, this is Anon.  A most amiable fellow.  I believe he'll be quite the sensation, sharp as he is!”

“He'd make a better sensation in a pen on a farm,” he mutters, low enough to pretend he's trying to talk to himself, loud enough to know he perfectly well isn't.  “They tell me you received your invitation personally from my oh-so beloved aunt.  She seems dead set on keeping the oddest of company, but how exactly did she make -your- ah, illustrious acquaintance?”

>You snag another brightly colored snack from another scuttling tray.  You eat it slowly, patiently.  Well, no reason to lie...

>”We crashed into each other.”

>His head moves to the left by a few degrees, his mouth tightens just a little.

“What do you mean by 'crash?”

>”Mid-air collision.  Middle of the night, nearly killed me.”

>He stares you down, searching your face for any sign of trickery.  He speaks in a measured tone.  “Was she angry?”

>You chest jumps with constrained laughter.  “She was shooting sparks.  Livid.”

“And yet you're still alive....”

>”Not for lack of trying on her part, I had to pull a few slick tricks.  Lucky enough to get away with my head still stuck to my neck.”  Blueblood's eyes narrow warily.  The rest of the group are at a bit of a loss.  Blueblood raises his head and his voice.

“Someone get this fellow a drink.  None of this cheap, watered-down nonsense we're serving.”

>He smirks.

“Congratulations, you've piqued my interest.”

>”Oh wow, do I get a sticker?”  This was shaping up to be a good night.

“Hardly, but I'll put up with you for a moment.  You clearly have a story to tell.  Let's hear it then.”

>Several moments and several more glasses later you and Blueblood are sitting at a table doubled over in uproarious laughter.

“And that's when we crashed clear to through the opening and slammed into the wall on the other side.”

>He slams his hoof down on the table and shouted incredulously.

“That was YOU?  You're the reason why her room was so thoroughly wrecked?  I saw that damage first-hand, how are you still ALIVE, man?”

>You shrug dramatically.  “There was a lot at stake that night.  I wasn't about let a little high-impact against hard surfaces stop me.”

“I was laughing about that for days on end.  She was driving herself mad with the repairs.  Bellowing orders to the renovators from sun up to sun down.  You should have seen the looks on their faces.”  He breaks down in hearty chuckles at the memory.  “They were TERRIFIED! ”

>”She IS terrifying!”

“I'll drink to that!”

>He does, and so do you out of courtesy.

”And the part with the birds!  Ha!  Now I know why there hasn't been so much as a speck of pigeon smear around here in the past weeks.  Birds!  Of all things!”

>He wiped tears of joy from his eyes.

“Truth be told I'm almost fond of the cacophonous raven.  She's like a foul-tempered crag who'd have my head as soon as say 'good day to thee,' to me.  But at least she's not my -other- aunt.  Luna I can get a decent rise out of, and she'll tell me right off when I start to cross her.  She's more entertaining to watch that drunken brawls in back-alley pubs.  Miles more interesting my -other- aunt, that ever-patient crone always trying to teach me some value or other.”

>He shook your shoulder with something approaching camaraderie.

“But she can be so damn unflappable sometimes, and -condescending- to me!  Her very own dearest nephew!”

>”Nooo....”  You say with as much forced sympathy as possible.  Not Luna.  Not in a bermillion years.  Not to this jack-wagon.

“All too true.  But you seem to be keen, even skilled, at making her life difficult, and I encourage you to do so with as much abandon that suits you.”

>”I'd do it even without your permission!”

“That's the spirit!  Anon, you're an ugly, smelly foreigner who's not suited to drink from the same trough as pigs, but I think I can tolerate you.”

>”And you're a swollen bag of hot-air that I'd like to sock in the throat and throw off the tower!”

>The two of you laugh even more loudly and slap the table.  Empty bottles and glasses tip over, a few fall off and shatter quietly on the floor.  Passing guests look on with confusion, but concede that the nobility must be allowed their eccentricities.

“Did everyone hear that?”

>”We hate each other!”

“Incredibly so!  Look here -this monstrosity’s glass is empty, as is mine! Come and fix this travesty!  What in my aunt's name are we paying you dirt-trodden oafs for!?”

>The two of you swapped more stories, which at the moment was preferable to swapping punches.

>You spy Rarity wandering some distance from your high table.  You wave and call to her.  She looks up in your direction, recognizes you, and catches sight of your un-friend.  Her brow furrows in rage and distaste and she promptly sets off far away from you.  Blueblood noticed and grinned with bad intentions.

“Who was that fetching little doll?”

>'Fetching.'  Odd choice of word.  ”Her name is Rarity.  Big shot fashion designer.  Great girl.  Just, like, top marks all around.”  He looked thoughtful.

“Rarity...Rarity...why does that name seem so familiar...”

>He shrugs.

“Can't say that I know her.”

>”Everypony knows someone like her...or...that's what she said.”  Still didn't make any sense to you.  Blueblood nodded at what sounded like something that would pass for wisdom.  One of the small, straight-laced, but fidgety attendants that were following you around whispered something in his ear.  He scowled.

“Damnation.  I have to ready myself for the Circadian Dance.  Well, see you on the floor soon enough.  If you embarrass yourself out there, just embarrass my beloved aunt moreso.”

>He marches away from your table, and those who didn't step aside immediately were plowed away by his over-bearing importance than seemed to create a force-field two feet in front of him.

>”What an incredible sphinct-lord,” you say, not entirely with rancor.  You'd need to hang out with him some more later, see if it'd lead to fisticuffs or not.

>Rarity wound her way towards your table.

“You make fast friends,” she says primly.

>”Yeah, I don't know what I'd call that.”  She stares distastefully at the seat Blueblood occupied moments ago.  It was the same look arsonists get when they decide something would look better as a pile of ashes. “I take it you've met that guy already?”

“And fervently wish I never did.”

>Her tone clipped hard enough to cut branches.  You took it as a sign that discouraged further questions.  She takes a seat next to you and adjusts her mane.  “He mentioned that Circadian Dance thing would be starting soon.” Rarity nodded.

“Yes, highlight of the evening.  All the upper echelons of Canterlot Royalty will be present on the ball floor.  Special guests dance for the first round.  Members of fine lineage, a few scholars, ambassadors,”

>”Which I apparently am.”

“Of course.  Fascinating gentleman from a far-off land, partaking in our hospitality and culture?  What else would they call you?  'Human High Ambassador,' sounds nice, hm?”

>She looked at you with icy eyes from the side of her face.  “It SOUNDS important enough.”

“Important enough to get you here.”

>”Does the job come with pay?”

“It pays just enough to get you here.”

>You rub expensive table cloth in between your fingers.  “Fair enough then.”

“Important enough to let you dance with her, and not have anyone put forward undue questions.”

>She pointed to a very tall, very grand looking stair case.

“She'll come from there, along with the rest.  They'll line up there.”  She pointed along the floor, “And you'll take your place there.  “Just wait for the signal.  Just follow along with everyone else, it's not complicated, I promise.  You practiced the steps I told you about?  Lovely.”

>She fills you in on the rest of the details.  It seemed simple enough, but Rarity had a way to make the most extravagant things seem casual.   It was too late to get nerve-wracked now though.  But you've done more difficult things, and messed up worse.  Nothing holding your head high and picking your feet up won't see you through.

>And if you screw up, you can just say it was on purpose and blame it on cultural differences.  No one would dare pin you for that.  Foolproof.  Absolutely foolproof.

>“Rare?”

“Hm?”

>”Lemme just say thank-yo-” she holds up a hoof a tutters.

“Oh no, don't start that here.  Not now.  It's my duty and an unmatched pleasure to help, especially with something so...orchestrated as this.”  Her eyes flutter dreamily.  “Don't jinx anything. Wait until the night's over and we're on our way home.  Then you can thank me endlessly.”

>You and Rarity sit there watching the grounds below and around you flow unceasingly.  Catching snippets of jests and flirtations, drunken outbursts of song and pompous outbreaks of bravado.

>Someone snuck in a beach ball that was making it's way in leaps and bounds across the many open halls, despite the efforts of guards to quarantine something so unseemly.

>The ball headed your way.  You bopped it towards Rarity.  She bopped it onto a higher terrace.  A guard came huffing hurriedly past your table.  You and her looked at each other a snickered with little restraint.

>And it wasn't soon until the lights dimmed further and the hall took on a blanketing hush.  Rarity brushed your shoulder.

“Give her a show, Anon.”

>You touched your forehead.  “Yes ma'am.”

>You stride purposefully across the floor, along with maybe one or two dozen others.  You stop on what you hope is the right spot.  You look around.  A old, scarred gryphon dressed in military-style regalia stands to your right, and a youthful unicorn with blue hair takes place on your left.

>The gryphon looks at you with a milky eye.

“First time, son?”

>Oh jeeze, was it that obvious?  You nod.  “Yes sir.”  He chuckles softly.

“I once took on fifteen Diamond Dogs with nothing but a knife and a pot of cold coffee, and that wasn't near so scary as my first round at this place.  But I made it through alright.  Chin up.”

>You stand straighter.  A small amount of sweat is building on your forehead.

>The trumpets and drums pick up from all around the room.  Light blooms onto the top of the grand staircase.  The steps themselves glow with gold, as if about to catch on fire.

>A high pair of doors slowly swing open at the top of the stairs.  Even more light shines through.  Princess Celestia steps through.  There are no proclamations, no listing of titles, no grand fireworks.  Her presence says more than words ever could.  You've seen her once or twice before, and knew without question that she was the one who ruled the roost.  But the sight of her now catapulted it from objective fact to a law scribed into space itself.

>She looked every inch a queen.  Composed, kind, wise beyond years.

>She stepped down the staircase to the awe of all those presence.  She stood across the floor, which began to glow and hum quietly, and nodded almost perceptively towards the gryphon.  She smiled the smile that someone gives to a treasured and long-time friend.

>Your eyes moved sideways to the old soldier.  He smiled the same way.  He held out a claw and lowered his head.  She approached and offered her hoof, and they danced away onto the floor.

>You noted the pattern of their steps and breathed a sigh of relief as you recognized the dance as something you practiced very heavily.

>The light changed, subtly.  A little more white, bordering on blue than the outright fiery gold that dominated the scene.  The temperature seemed to drop just a notch.  A shiver touched your spine.

>You look through the threshold of the door at the top of the stairs and see the moon rising.

>She steps into the room.  No fireworks, no overblown cheering, or complex recitals.

>Just Luna.

>The princess moves like blue mercury down the steps.  Her dress alight with silver and blacks flowed and blended with her hair.

>She doesn't walk as much as she streams.  Her wings are opened slightly, arched forward, almost as if she's floating down.

>You thought she looked good during dinner at your house.  The only word you can think of now is divine.  Immaculate.

>She stops before you, her graceful head poised upwards.

>You lower your head and for one maddening moment you wonder if this is all part of some great prank.  That someone is going to turn all the lights on and throw a bucket of ice on your head, and call you a fool for thinking that something so beautiful would deign to dance with you.

>Your hand stretches outwards, beckoning her to join you.

>Your heart beats once.

>

>She approaches, with the night sky trailing behind.

>She places her hoof in your hand.  She smiles warmly.

>”I've been practicing.”

“I knew you would.”

>And just how you imagined, she lifts herself up into your arms.  Your legs are already braced to accept some of her weight.

>It takes half a second for you to both realize that this just may actually work, and even if it didn't you'd make it happen anyway.

>You place your foot one way, and she matches your step.  You dip.  Step.  Swerve. Swerve.  Step.  One two three, one two three...

“Your lips keep moving.”

>”Just trying to focus.  You move like a drugged rock.”

“I'm not the one who's constantly falling forward and tries to pass it off as walking.”

>”I never fall.”  She steps away.

“You fell for me.”

>You pull her close.

>”And that's the only time it's going to happen.”

“I'm pleased it did.”

>You breathe a little bit of her in.  Her green eyes glow along the edges.

>The two of you work into an easy rhythm, making small gives and takes throughout your movements, conceding and working in tandem with each other's physicality.

>Dancing in such close proximity heightened your awareness.  Your eyes picked out the lean of her legs, the curve and gentle heave of her chest.   The way her neck tightened and  swayed along with the swing of her shoulders.

>It was much more enticing than you were prepared for.  You could see the same look in her eyes.

>As you danced you saw Celestia and the gryphon dancing as well.  He looked at you from over her shoulder and grinned in the way only an old dog like him could.  He winked.

>For a moment you wondered what Celestia's taste in suitors was like.

>The unicorn who was standing next to you was dancing with another alicorn. Pink, and smaller than Luna or Celestia.  They were dancing decidedly closer than everyone else.

>Blueblood was on the floor as well.  He was dancing with a slight-framed p0ny, but rather sloppily.  He was too focused on whispering into her ear, eliciting shocked gasps and giggles from the girl.  He caught you staring and gave you what was probably the pony equivalent of a thumbs-up.

>Everyone paired up with their partners and circled slowly around the floor.  Luna sighed contentedly and leaned into your shoulder as the music slowed

“Your hair smells of coconuts.”

>”I got this new shampoo on accident.”

“I'm rather fond of coconut.”

>You are never buying ocean-spray again.

“You're performing quite admirably.  Have you ever attended a ball before?”

>“I've crashed a few parties, but nothing this formal.”

“They made for fine rehearsal.”

>You doubted that, but you decided not to let your mouth ruin anything.

>All too soon the music began to change.  Luna groaned in that cultivated way she has.

“This is where we bid farewell for now.  I must dance with a duke from Prance, and then I believe the treasurer of Las Pegasus.  How fortunate am I?”

>Your face goes grim and you hold her head between your hands, staring directly into her large eyes.

>“Do not let him go near you with a pool noodle.  Promise me.  Promise.  Me.”  She looked at you levelly.

”I vow on all the setting suns and rising moons that he will not approach me in conjunction with this 'pool noodle'.”

>Relief washes over you like a tidal wave on a burning man.  She laughs gently, which you didn't think she could actually do.

“This was far too short.  I shall see you soon.”

>She pecks you lightly on the cheek, peppering you with lightning and snow, and sends you away.

>Dizzily you disappear back into the crowds.

>Rarity is still sitting at the same table.  You plop yourself down again and giggle like an idiot.  “How'd I look?”

“That nearly brought a tear to my eye.”

>She looked like her stomach was full of butterflies.

“It looked so dream-like”  She placed her chin on her hoof.  “The lighting just warms a girl's heart right up.”

>You liked the sound of that.  You give a cursory look around the rest of the hall.  A sizable portion of mares present were actually miles away in their own fuzzy, cotton-candy laced dreamworlds.

“I hate this part of shin-digs.  Everyp0ny gets all quiet and goofy, and they throw you out if you start yelling.”

>”Hi Rain.”

“Try as you may, it will be very difficult for you to ruin this moment.”

>Rainbow concedes grumpily and joins the two of you.  There was a thin sheen of sweat on hur fur.  She hasn't been mucking around.  “Sniff out any good leads?”  She smiles wickedly.

“Duh.  A few good rock bands are gonna hole up in one of the basements and get -loud-.  A few guys from that minotaur procession are gonna hang out in the garden, but that might get a bit too rough and tumble for someone as squishy as you.”

>”Says the little blue bird-horse.”  She throws a fork at you.

“You ever hear of this chick named Octavia?  Didn't think so.  Canterlot Orchestra, normally can't stand 'em, but they know how to party.  A few of the bigger wigs are gonna go and chill with them in room that's real VIP.”

>”And you think you can get into that one?”  She  cross her hooves behind her head and leans back.”

“Naturally.  Do you know any P's who's more VI than us?”

>As you translated that sentence in your head someone very official looking approached you.  Someone who wasn't quite a guard, but higher ranked than the bustling waiters that scoured the room.  His place on the servant hierarchy let him sway legions of such underlings

“Ambassador Anon?”

>Oh wow, that sounded impressive.  “Yes.  I'm an ambassador.”  Your parents would be proud.

“Princess Luna has set aside a private room, should you and your friends wish to relieve yourself from the crowds.  She is to join you shortly after the dancing is concluded.”

>You raised an eyebrow and looked over at Rain and Rarity.  “Sounds VI enough to me.”

>Rarity bubbled at the prospect.  Rainbow nodded like such considerations were natural.

>The servant-king briskly followed an invisible rail to the lounging room.  The cluster of guests lessened gradually the further you traveled from the hall.  Small pockets of people were still strewn everywhere, of course, but these were more relaxed minds who simply needed some distance from the cultured chaos that was only a few corridors away.

>He brought you into a middling sized room who's warm colors and soft furniture assured visitors that this was the most comfortable room they were likely to be in all month.

>Rainbow trotted around the room, touching things and assorting them into 'cool stuff' and 'lame stuff.'  Rarity sat on a very puffy sofa, her face composed, but her eyes glazed over with great desire to own everything in the room.

>You half-consciously inspected a tray of finger-foods laid across a table on the side of the room.  There was a very curvy looking gold and glass pitcher that reigned on a likewise golden tray.  You pointed to it and looked at your guide.

>“Carafe?”  He nodded.

“Very astute, sir.”

>You fist-pumped to yourself.

“Are the accommodations to your liking?”

>You nod vigorously, “I might never want to leave this room.”  Rarity laughs like a wind-chime.

“This will do very nicely, thank you kindly, sir.”

>He smiles and nods like a professional with a job well-done.

“Happy to hear.  Should you need anything, do not hesitate to pull the rope by the door.  Someone will be along shortly.  I wish you all a good evening.”

>You all stare at each other as he left the room.

>”We didn't need to tip him, right?”

“That would be a horrible breach in the unwritten rules of castle etiquette.”

>”Good to know!”  You didn't bring any money with you anyway.  You looked around the room again.  You had this weird feeling that you didn't belong in a suite so nice on principal.

>You then told that feeling to slag off.  You can belong into whatever room you want.    You fall onto a couch in a way that probably wrinkles your suits fabric.  Rarity's brow wavers a bit, but she's willing to let the matter slide.

>”Oh Anon, thank you so much for being cool enough to score us our own room to crash in and stuff our face with expensive food!”

“Hmm...I do believe we're in here thanks to Luna's good graces.”

>”Thank you Anon for somehow convincing Luna that you're cool enough to get her to score us such a cool room?”  Rarity tells you to shush by shaking her head.

”Don't try and talk like me, dude, you sound awful.”

>”Mmm...nah.”  You cross your legs and decide to let yourself feel good.  You've been hitting all the right marks this evening.  You feel all glowy, and decide to bask in it for a bit.

“Oh, Rainbow darling, your dress!”

>Rainbow looks at Rarity and than crossedly down at her dress.

“What?  It's not torn anywhere, is it?  If it's about that purple stain, I already know about it.”

“You can barely see that, no, but your laces are coming loose on the back.”

>Rainbow does a round-a-bout in front of a full-length mirror.  She groans at the offending strings .

“Aw buck, it took me forever to tie those.”

“Let me help, darling.”

>You see Rarity swish over to Rainbow's backside out of the corner of your eye.  She assesses her dress like a field-surgeon.

“Your weave isn't as tight as it should be, I'll just re-thread them.”

>Her horn glows lightly and the laces slink away, causing her loosen dress to fall a bit, exposing the small of her back and the top of her shoulders.

“I must've been hitting that dance floor a little harder than I thought.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of.  It's holding together very well.”

>They talk about more dress-things.  Rarity's face closes in on Rainbow's back as her hooves realign the dress and she puts the threads back in its proper place.  You can't look away.

>This is when you realize that Rainbow Dash and Rarity were incredibly sexy.

>Your  brain stops.  It just stops.  The whole thing turns off. Then the persistent instinctual urge to continue living overcomes your death wish and bolts it back to a functioning state.  You scream at the horrible realization, but your mouth and lungs are frozen.  The only noise you make as the last vestiges of self-respect die away amount to a kitten's whimper.

>Rainbow and Rarity look at you in confusion.

“You alright over there?  You sound like a dying balloon.”

>”Fmph.”  They shrug and go back to their maintenance, too busy to note your titanic internal struggle.

>For the past few weeks, you've grown to accept that you found Luna physically attractive.  Picking up cues and notes from the things you thought looked hot.  The line of her jaw, the flow of her fur, and the curve of her flank, amongst other things.  It took you a bit of effort to get over yourself, but you managed it.

>And now your subconscious has taken that as permission to look at other mares in that way.  Checking out the length of their legs, or the fullness of their mane behind your back.  Making a formula that would allow you to judge who looked good, and who looked really good.

>And that horrible imp of your own making has just awoken.

>He said hello from inside your pants.

>You jump up and shuffle over to the carafe and pour a very large glass of icy water.

>Pieces fit together like a perverted jigsaw puzzle in your head.  Since you first arrived, you've noticed odd looks from assorted colts, and mare.  You didn't know what it meant exactly, so you ignored it.  But you now know what it was.

>Envy!

>You look at Rainbow and Rarity, still tending to each other.  Sweet Christmas, you show up to the biggest event in the kingdom with two girls so hot they could catch fire at any moment.  And then you act casual about it!

>And then you dance with the princess in front of all that Society!

>Everything rewrote itself in your head, exposing the horrible truth.  Jealousy, envy, admiration -you saw it all!  They regarded you as some otherworldly mac-daddy, and you didn't even know!

“There.  You can run a marathon and those laces won't loosen in the slightest.”

“Thanks, Rarity.  Hey Anon, how does it look?”

>She shows off her backside to you.

>You drink another glass of water and give her what she assumes to be the human equivalent of a hooves-up.  Finding one p0ny attractive was enough.  Luna was great.  Amazing.  You wanted to be attracted to her and nop0ny else. You can't handle this.  These two were your friends, for crying all over the place.  You weren't supposed to look at them in that light.

>In that dirty light, showing off their curves and suggestive eye-shadow.

>Water's not gonna cut it.  You need liquor.  Lots.  People talked about drowning yourself in that stuff, and you wanted to try that first hand.  You discretely poured yourself a glass of wine, decided to cut out the middle man and drink straight from the bottle.

>Rarity looked at a clock on the wall and bounded in shock.

“Oh no, I promised to meet an old client out on the blaconies.  I may be a while, so don't hold up on my acccount.”

>You and Rainbow waved goodbye as she hurried out the door.  She walked slowly to the table, nosing at bottles and set aside three glasses.

“I'll admit, having an in with the princess comes with it's perks, huh?”

>You tried to affect an air of casualty as she dropped ice into the glasses.  “It's...gets us into places...”

“Aw come on,” she elbowed you sharply.  “No need to be ashamed.”

>You slam your hands into your pockets.  “Ashamed?  Me, I'm not ashamed.  What should I be ashamed of, I'm not doing anything wrong, not on purpose.”  She smirks like someone hiding a secret.  You don't like it at all.

“Look, you're Luna's little boy-toy and if she wants to set you up in her doll house then you might as well roll with it.”

>She picked out a small assortment of bottles and began to pour them into a mixer with the hooves of an expert.

>”I'm not her 'boy-toy.”  She sighs in the shame of your ignorance.

“Let's make a list -you're all trussed up, come to a ball 'cus she asked you with big lovey-dovey eyes, and then pranced around with you in front of half the kingdom.”

>She fills a glass.
“You are so marked.  All you need is sticker that says 'Royal Property of Luna.'”

>She pours the second glass.

“But like I said, it has its perks.  I just cannot stop watching.”

>”So this is all one big show to you?”  Her wings flared out in exclamation.

“Best show in town! Don't look at me like that, I'm with you one-hundred percent on this.  And you're one-hundred percent on her, I can smell it.”

>She pours a third glass.

“But I don't think you're ready to admit that to yourself or anyp0ny.”

>You groan.  “How many times are going to needle me with this?  I've already told you, I'm not some crazy horn dog,” you lie “and it's between me and Luna.  When we do it, I'm not going to run around with a trumpet yelling my head off, but I'm sure you're going to find out anyway.”

“Of course I'm gonna find out.  But the point is that you haven't done it, and that just confuses the tartarus out of me.”

>”Good.”

“You got the princess, of all ponies -wet-dream of any colt who's ever even slept, coming down from the castle on the regular for hang-outs and make-outs.  Flying you all the way up here just to dance with you for two minutes, and then sets you up in a room reserved for nobles to talk about, I don't know, wine or assassinations or whatever.  She's begging for it Anon.”

>”I think you're being a little extre-”

“Dripping.”

>”I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.”

“Makes me think something's wrong with you to ignore her.”

“Alright, fine, cool, she's shining a spotlight on her flank, according to you, but there's nothing 'wrong' with me.  I'm plenty interested, dammit!”

>She slid the glass to you and stopped firmly, like a period.

“Then drink to it.”

>She doesn't have to tell you twice.  You need this desperately.  You fingers go for the rim.

“Only if you mean it.”

>Her red eyes smolder.  You don't even blink as you drink her dare and slam the glass down on the table.  Your thumb wipes the side of your mouth.  “There.  You willing to drop the issue now?”  She looked like someone who was winning.  She drank the second glass.

“Nope.”

>”Why is your brain so single-tracked?  I'm not going to talk about this anymore.”  You cross your arms before thinking of how prissy that looks.  You stick your hands in your pockets and turn away from her.

“Not gonna talk about it, but you're gonna think about it, aren't ya?”

>”Just thinking about you being quiet for two minutes.”

“Thinking about all the things you want to do to her?  Stuff you dream about,  like running your hands all through that clean fur of hers?”

>She was stalking into some creepy territory now.  You turn around and regret looking at her because your new warped vision is still telling you she's hot.  You try and fight it off, but it's like going bare-handed against Muhammad Ali.  “Whatever you're on about, just get off it already.”  You see her shoulders brace themselves like they're made of steel.

“Just dancing around the issue, dude.  You're just picking and choosing the bits of a relationship you want like it's a buffet or something.”  She took a firm step closer.  “It's not good for you, and it's not good for her.”

>You're caught off-balance by her accusatory tone, but there was something else dancing in the back of her voice.

“Relationships aren't just highlights, they're nothing but give and take, Anon, and you're scared to give.”  She makes a quick leap forward, jolting you backward and onto a sofa.  “Between a boy and a girl, it's gotta be full, open, flowing both ways.”

>She stalks towards you.  Her hair falling in straight, brushy strands over her eyes.

“And even if you're too thick-headed to admit you wanna give, you still know you want to take.   All of her, just for yourself, kissing her for hours on end, and still tasting the wine on the tip of her tongue?  Does that sound good?”

>Her wings pop out and she jumps onto the couch, arched over you like she's about to tear your throat out.

“Yeah, it sounds better than good.  It sounds bucking amazing.  Let her go freaking insane while those wild hands of yours go to town on her -grazing over every little hidden place that no one else in the world is allowed to go near.  Don't even lie to me and say you don't think about that.”

>Where is this coming from?  Where in God's domain is this coming from?

>She lowers her head over you.  You can smell a heady musk that she's built up from a night of dancing and the high she's running on right now.  Strands of red hair fall onto your forehead.  Beads of sweat slide down them and fall onto your forehead.  She speaks in a smooth husk.

“Lie to me.  Tell me you haven't dreamed of letting her reign over you like this, tearing through those stupid clothes you wear and letting her do her, ahah, royal-duties?”

>You are too traumatized to speak coherently.  She puts a small but strong hoof dead center on your chest.

“But that's natural.  I don't know what kind of brain damage you have, but raw physicality is healthy.  You just wanna touch each other -get all wrapped and tangled up so much you can't tell what part belongs to who. Make each other scream and feel good.   Oh, she wants it.”

>Her lips brush against your ear like a branding iron.

“And you want it too.  You need it.”

>Rainbow looks down at the imp of your own making.  She smiles like someone who's won.

“Well look who's right.”

>She steps off the couch and fixes her hair.

“That was fun.   Just, y'know food for thought.”

>You blink one eye at a time.

“I was sweet talking one of the bouncers for a party a few of the wonderbolts are going too.  You and Luna can catch up later, if you want.  Just follow the trail of p0nies having a good time.  We'll have fun, I promise.”

>She trots to the door.

“Oh, Anon?”

>”Harlghlep.”

“Remember to breathe.”

>”Fnarf.”

>She closes the door quietly, leaving you in a room where all you can hear is a voice in your head announcing its desire to go home.

--

>Rainbow Dash adjust the strap around her shoulders.  The hallway empty, save for a few hangers on at the end, sweet-talking their dates.

>Luna is walks up to the small pegasus.

“Lady Rainbow Dash.”

>Rainbow nods in token recognition of her position.

“I don't get how you royal-types put up with those stupid traditional dances for so long.”

>Luna laughs at a question she's been asked a thousand times.

“It is rite of endurance.  But I hold no great love for them.”

>Rainbow smirks and lilts teasingly.

“'Cept when you're holding Anon out there.”

>Luna grins like a girl caught with her hoof in the cookie jar.

“He has certainly held at the forefront of my mind.  I would have preferred to spend the dance's entirety with him, but accursed etiquette requires I withhold on a few...urges.”

>Rainbow snickers.  Luna looks at the closed door as though it was the lid to a jar.  She would shake it if she could.

“How did he do?”

>Rainbow's lips curl up at what's going to be a very treasured memory.

“Oh, he was great.  You should've seen him.”  Rainbow pulls up on her hind legs.  “His tongue was wrapping itself in knots and his arms went all noodly.”

>Her arms slink down and wobble before she drops to all fours again.  She leans in towards the princess and whispers conspiratorially.

“If you don't pop him soon, his skull's gonna explode, and that's one mess I'm not gonna touch.”

>Luna's eyes turned smokey, and her hair began to twirl close around her neck.  She could feel goosepimples all over her.  Rainbow approved of the look.  She liked a royal who didn't beat around any bushes.

“Your services will not be soon forgotten, Lady Rainbow.  We thank you sincerely.”

“Yeah, sure, anytime Princess.  Whelp, I'm gonna go get in more trouble.  Once you wrap up with the stud-muffin in there, we can hang out if you want.  I can think of a couple ways for us to have fun.”

>Luna looked down on her and tilted her head, her eyes taking in the pegasus, smiling at the consideration.  She nodded, pleased at the prospect.

“We just may, Lady Rainbow.  I never do have quite enough fun.”

>Rainbow gave her a mock salute and stalked down the hallway.  This night was turning out better than expected.  She paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder.

“Luna?”

“Hmm?”

“Don't go easy on him.”

>The princess’s dark wings flapped in restrained glee.

“Oh, I have no intention.  Half-measures are not in my repertoire.”

>Rainbow decided Luna was pretty cool.  The two of them laughed wickedly.

----

>Meanwhile your mind is still locked in a semi-catatonic state in a noble effort to preserve your sanity.  If there was a window in the room you would've leapt out of it like a patient escaping the asylum.

>You don't exactly hear the door creak open and shut, but your brain does kick completely back online once you see Luna cross over to the table.

“Enjoying your evening?”

>”Glarf.  Fluh. Uh.  Yeah.  Ah.  Heheh.”  You straighten up immediately in your chair, nearly launching yourself into the ceiling doing so.  “How was the treasurer?”

“His footing was sure.  His words sweet.  His forehooves wandering.  But no pool noodles, just as I promised.”

>You clap your hands together.  ”I'll go knock his lights out then.  Be right back.”  You make a bolt for the door.  Yes.  Punching someone in the face would relieve a lot of stress right now.  Put things in perspective.

“No.”

>Your ears pop as you're covered in magic.  She throws you back on the couch.

“Truth be told I'd much rather it was your hands doing the wandering.”

>Oh.

>”They are so...dexterous, after all.”  A hoof glides over the table.  “And I am quite convinced you have yet to use them to their full potential.”

>Her horn glows gently.  The third glass floats to her lips.

“You danced very well tonight.  You are very talented, Anon.  You give me no shortage of reasons to be impressed.

>She drinks slowly, lifting her head high, giving you full view of her long neck and throat  as the soothing liquid travels down.  She licks her lips 'ah's' with heavy satisfaction.

>The glass settles on the table.  She sets a long, slender leg in front of the other and saunters across the floor like a tiger towards you.

“Are there any other tricks you would care to show me?”

>Her lips move slowly, touching and brushing every letter and syllable that passes around her tongue.  Your ears begin to tingle, as though her lightning kiss is upon them right now.

”Would you care to know what I was thinking as I danced without you?”

>She laid on you, the silks of her dress allowing her to skim easily over your suit, up your chest and stopping right below your chin.  Her wings unfolded gradually and stretched to the sides of your head, ensuring that you were unable to look at anything beyond the building light of her eyes.

>You were scared, traumatized, and have been wrestling with almost-unwanted arousal all evening long.  All according to her plans, of course.  Something sensitive was on the verge of breaking.


>”Were you thinking that everything's going your way?  This is one of those nights where you get to be the center of everybody's attention.”  Your hands start to massage her neck.  She felt tense, but melted like a candle under your warm fingers.  “A night where a million people jump through hoops just for you, right?  Yeah, yeah, you need a break sometimes, but you can't get enough of it.”

>She shudders.  “Especially when there's someone real nice waiting for you at the end of it all.”  She inches further up your body and places her hooves across your shoulders.  “Someone who goes bonkers at just the mention of your name.” Her muzzle touches the corner of your lips.

“Stop speaking, Human...” she says gently.

>”You are just shameless, aren't you?”  She smiles beneath closed eyes.

“I have told you as much.”

>You kiss.  Thoroughly.  God, it's like pushing against a glacier.  The unending, electrifying stream of her aura pours into you making all the hairs from the back of your neck to your knee stand at attention.

>She really should come with an OSHA warning label.  Or a list of possible side-effects.

>The sundry exhalations of the girl is enough to put aside any worries of long-term damage.

> Your jaw begins to strain to the point of breaking before she pulls away, leaving you with a feeling like being stuck in an elevator dropping a thousand feet in the air.  She runs her lips down you chin and across your neck, hitting your skin like hail on windows.  Her muzzle pushed against the collar,, causing her to make breathy moans of agitation.

“Why must your attire be so complex?”

>”You're cute when you're frustrated.”

>She bites your neck, making your muscle spasm slightly like it was mildly tazered.

>You make a note to tell Rarity to make easily removed garments...so that....

>Her leg starts rubbing heavily against your own, very distracting....

”We order you to undo those buttons at this insta-”

>There was a knock on the door.  If someone threw a bucket of ice-water on the two of you it would have the same effect.

>Her eyes go dark and her left wing twitches.

“We told them no interruptions,” she mutters.

>Another knock, more urgent.  She growls hard enough to make the sofa shake.

“You may enter,” she calls out with strained, practiced grace.

>”Um.” A harried guard steps into the room.  He was very tall, very broad, and very well-armed.

>Whelp, that's it.   You pooched it.  Getting caught running bases with the princess is probably something they covered the first day of the royal guard training academy.  'If you ever find an uppity two-legged monkey snogging out with your Grace, drag 'em out back and bop him 'round the head 'til he stops twitching.  Trash comes by on Tuesdays and Saturdays, any questions?'

>He looks at Luna, then you, then back and Luna.  The two of you seemed to be caught in the middle of mauling each other -an unexpected sight.  Luna's composed, patient visage somehow conveys the fact that she would smear him against the wall if he offers any sort of opinion.  You give him credit -he hardly stumbled over his words.

“My apologies for...intruding.  But there's an issue with Prince Blueblood.”

>Luna's face remained straight, although the fabric around her dress was definitely not.

“The prince IS an issue.  Why does this require my attention?”

>The guard flaps like a teapot.  You were glad he wasn't trying to spear you through the eye for breaking whatever rule you've most assuredly picked up and smashed against the wall.

“He was found with the Fetlockistan diplomat's daughter by the...Fetlockistan diplomat.”

”Does he wish to have my impudent nephew's head?  If so, he's welcome to it.”

>You lay quietly, trying to be as invisible as one possibly can while lying beneath a ruling figure in the midst of an international dispute.

“If...my lady...”

>She crossed her hooves over your chest.  You have been delegated to pillow-status.  A worthy position to be sure.

”No, one must make considerations for family.  Regrettably.  Tell them we shall along.  But do not say 'quickly' or 'shortly.'  Let the little speck of a prince sweat for a while.”

>The guard nodded, and opened the door quickly, he looked around nervously.

“As you wish.   Once again, my apologies for intruding, your grace.”

>He nodded to you, trying to avoid your gaze just as hard as you were trying to avoid his.

“My lord.”

>The door closed.  The guard looked subtly defeated as he walked away.  It was disheartening to know that everyone was taking full advantage of the castle and its many dark nooks and crannies.  He was also told in no uncertain terms not to do that sort of thing while on-duty.  Even the princess was joining in the fun with the ambassador from...where ever he's from.  That just hurt.

>He continued with his lonely patrol.

>”Does that happen alo-”  You were cut off as Luna pressed herself hard into your mouth.  She breathed deeply when she came back up.

“We needed that,” she said tersely.

>With a mental constitution that you cannot fathom, she managed to get off you.  Her body shimmered slightly as she worked out the wrinkles and fixed the slips on her dress.  You stood up and straightened  yourself out as well.

“The one moment they could badger our sister, but alas.  Tell us not to have his innards strung along the ceiling the moment I see him.”

>”I won't object.  I only talked to him once, go for it.”

“We are grossly tempted.  But somep0ny, somewhere will find it upsetting.  Dissuade us.”

>You tried to think of a compelling argument.  This whole thing was some kind of weird cock-block that went both ways.  ”Do not have his guts strung up on the ceiling.  It won't match with the rest of the decorations.”  She took a calming breath that failed to calm her at all.

“Well spoken.  Come along then, we shall have this matter aggressively resolved shortly.”

>Her hair floated a little higher than normal.  She waved her wings and hopped up to your shoulders.  Her hooves drew little circles over your buttons and crooked bow-tie.

“And then we shall have some highly overdue fun.”