My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is ©Hasbro Inc. and/or Lauren Faust, assuming that she hasn't been completely screwed over by said inhuman corporate entity and left with nothing.
No insult is meant to any Celtic-based cultures or societies past, present, future or lurking in the more unspeakable corners of space and time.
Please get these lawyers' teeth out of my bum.
Oh - now you know what I did last November for NaNoWriMo.
CHAPTER 1: The Messenger
Princess Celestia, the Alicorn of Day and Keeper of the Sun, regarded the grovelling pegasus with interest. This regard was not shared as said pegasus kept his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.
The pony in question had a shaggy coat the colour of weak tea, made even milkier with fear; his unruly dirty blonde mane was darker by comparison. Against this, the blue, green and red of the patterned wool scarf he wore stood out quite starkly.
He had been heralded as a messenger, but it was becoming clear that Celestia wasn't going to get the message unless she put him at his ease. She considered her words, then spoke carefully.
"Rise, good messenger," she intoned, "and deliver your tidings without fear." As she did she carefully pushed a gentle brush of calming magic across his brow. It wasn't something she normally did, but this was different. She wasn't used to ponies being almost catatonic with fear of her.
"A– a– as ye wish, iníonacha ionúin Epona," the stallion stuttered, rising slowly to his hooves. Celestia raised an eyebrow briefly. He still follows the old faith? That explains a lot.
The messenger blinked nervous blue eyes at her, swallowed, and cleared his throat. "I... I bring news from t' Council o' Thanes o' t' Shetlands," he recited, growing in confidence and brogue as he did so, "as required by our oaths. The Laird is dead; long live Laird Deargdyer!"
From his neck hung a small canvas pouch with his clan tartan and cutie mark on it – a sporran, Celestia remembered. One end of a scroll poked out, and the pegasus bent his head down and lipped it out. "Here as per ye ancient commands be t' banns o' t' Council," he declared, placing the scroll on the floor before him, "decreeing their decision untae all t' Clans o'..."
A terrible look crossed the messenger's face as the rest of the speech eluded him.
He blinked frantically to remember, then froze as Celestia's horn flared dimly, levitating the scroll toward her face. She unrolled the document and read it, seemingly unaware of the messenger's growing panic.
"You have flown far, have you not," she observed more than asked, "without pause?"
The pegasus blinked again, seemingly needing to do so in order to digest her words. "Aye?" he quavered, "T' Council charged me tae bring yon banns t' ye an' no dallying on t' way..."
He trailed off as the iníonacha gave him a thoughtful look. Epona forgive me, he prayed, I buggered it up I'm sorry dinnae send me home along t' Low Road...
"And you have done your duty, good Shetlander," she said kindly, "But I now have a task for you."
While still levitating the scroll, the iníonacha lifted a little bell and rang it – at the same time – without looking! The pegasus stared as a young mare in some sort of black and lace uniform – a hoofmaid? – entered and genuflected. "Yes, Your Highness?" she asked without any fear whatsoever.
"This messenger has flown far," Celestia indicated him with a forehoof, "and is tired and no doubt hungry. Make sure he is rested and fed when we call on him to deliver our summons."
SHETLANDER: A denizen of the Shetlands.
Shetlanders are noticeably shaggier than regular ponies, with distinct whiskers, moustaches, beards, muttonchops and unshorn fetlocks. Manes and tails also tend to the 'windswept and interesting' look, but some of the landed gentry and many of the mares get theirs braided. Dreadlocks may also be seen.
Hide colours are usually muted or pastel shades of brown, roan, black . Eyes are usually brown, grey or blue.
Cutie marks are often partially obscured beneath hair. The Shetlander response has been the sporran.
SHETLANDS, THE: A region several days' hoof travel north of Ponyville, composed of terrain similar to that of Scotland, featuring numerous lakes ('lochs'), mountains, large numbers of standing stones, and often bitterly cold weather. Chief exports are wool, distilled spirits, oats, and the most terrifying hoofball teams known to ponykind.
Names in the Shetlands are a portmanteau of Scottish and Irish Gaelic translations, and the accent ranges from Scotland to Ireland by way of England as well.
CLAN: A Shetland herd bounded by geographical region, comprising several families and ruled by a single leader known as a Thane.
THANE: Leader of a Shetland clan herd, also one of the ruling council of the Shetlands. This council is known as the Council of Thanes, who convene once a month to discuss matters of the Shetlands, as well as in extraordinary circumstances to select the next Laird.
LAIRD: The highest position of Shetland society, this pony effectively leads the entire Shetlands as a herd, and has the absolute power of veto over decisions made at the Council of Thanes. Typically a Laird once chosen rules either until death, or stepping down due to disgrace, illness or old age.