This chapter drove me crazy in a few places. I wanted the characters to be doing human things because I'm a human, but thrones, beards, and jams are not for ponies. Also, I don't know anything about horses, so the terms 'colt' and 'filly' are just going to have to replace words like 'man' and 'woman', because they seem to do just that in the show anyway, regardless of any of the ponies' ages.

Share your opinions. They please me.

Celestia proceeded to the massive double doors of her courtroom. Waiting for her was a brown unicorn pony of frilly attire. He had styled a curt, pointed beard and thin, curly mustache, which he felt was appropriate for a prime minster because it was what the ponies expected. At times, he was also known to rub his hooves together and plot menacingly, but this only in public where it would be talked about, and often the vile plotting was about what flavor of jam he would choose for lunch.

"My Lady Goddess Celestia!" the minster announced, kneeling. "How are we feeling today?"

Celestia hesitated a moment. "Thoughtful," she decided. "Perhaps even a bit pensive. But not too gloomy!"

The minister rose to his feet again. "Ah, a wonderful choice," he said solemnly. "One of my favorites, you know. Cynical introspection is a forte of any good prime minister. Give me just a moment."

The minister gazed into space and allowed his eyes to glaze over. He released a great breath and furrowed his brow. The corners of his mouth sagged into a grimace. "Life," he mumbled. "What is its meaning?"

Celestia appraised the performance critically, scowling at the colt's acting. "A little too depressing, Cecil. We're worried more about the future than we are about the futility of life in general," she suggested.

Cecil's face brightened a bit. "The future is always uncertain," he tried, growing into a more optimistic mindset, "But with Princess Celestia at the helm, I am sure we will forge into new domains and do quite well for ourselves."

"That will do," Celestia approved.

"Wonderful," Cecil said, squinting his eyes and stroking his beard with his hoof, "Shall I now announce your entrance to the court, my Lady?"

Celestia nodded, and Cecil swung the heavy doors wide open to the throne room. As he did so, light cascaded in from the stain glass windows in a brilliant, dazzling, divine display. Every pony in the room fell to their knees, and a hush descended over the entire procession.

Cecil strode to the middle of the room, back straight and head held high. "Today," he announced, "Princess Celestia's court feels thoughtful, and perhaps even a tad pensive. However, we are hopeful for the future and confident in the strength of our ruler! We are not gloomy or depressing!"

Cecil then stepped aside, leaving the entire carpet to Celestia's entrance. "And now," he continued, dropping to his knees with the others, "Our beloved sun goddess and eternal matriarch, Princess Celestia!"

In strutted Celestia, and at her will the sunlight streaming through the windows moved and reflected from the stained glass, dancing about the mare and following playfully in her wake. Behind her, her illustrious multicolored mane billowed on unseen winds. Her various gold adornments shone brightly about her person, radiating like an aura of holy splendor. She took her place before a bejeweled throne of gold and ivory, and, with most having seen this display at least one hundred times before in their lifetimes, the court rose to their feet and resumed their various murmurings and bustle.

Prime Minister Cecil trotted to his place to the left of Celestia, because as it was the old term for 'left' just happened to be 'sinister,' and there he sat, twirling his mustache while he thoughtfully reflected on the future. Raspberry or strawberry jam? Yes, a delicate question indeed. How to pit them against one another, and what of marmalade? One must always see far enough ahead to correct for troublesome interlopers.

Pony diplomats from various locations around Equestria lined up to the throne in order to make grievances, requests, or to offer gifts to their sun goddess. Those few on their first pilgrimage to the capital of Canterlot appeared nervous and awestruck, having obviously heard about Celestia's various miracles and facades, but not entirely prepared to see them in person. However, before they could begin the tiresome work of begging, pleading, and flattering, a winged horse cantered jovially past the lot of them.

He was wearing an oversized helmet, pilfered, it would seem, from Bucephalus's collection of earth horse armors. As he bounded by, he shook his head about so the the bright blue crista waggled from side to side. His hooves were painted a speckled scheme of blue, like a robin's egg, and on his back was draped a flamboyant, silken, white cape with bronze tassels tied at the end like a curtain. It was none other than Duke Incitatus, and thankfully with no impolite dangling decorations as far as Celestia could tell.

"Mistress!" He exclaimed, "Your fur is looking the most marvelous shade of alabaster this morning!"

Celestia smiled, faintly. "And yours is looking a delightful shade of basalt," she replied.

Incitatus stretched out his body and spread his wings so as to look himself up and down. His wobbling helmet slipped to the side of his face, where he caught it and knocked it haphazardly back into proper alignment. "Basalt?" he said, "Well, I suppose I'd be a bit more fetching if I had gorgeous hair like yours, madam, but I should think that my fashion sense more than makes up for things."

He leaned in towards Celestia and opened his mouth, then glanced at the line of ponies he had just ignored. Without a thought, he unfurled his right wing and obscured he and Celestia from their visions. Incitatus then looked Celestia in the eye and said, conspiratorially, "Do you think the entire color spectrum of your mane might not go so well with my gray color?"

Celestia giggled. "Lord Incitatus, please!" she cried, "I have business to attend to."

Incitatus withdrew his wing, but maintained a reverential eye with the mare. "Of course, mistress," he said, "But I simply did not want our adorable Lady to feel even the slightest verge of pensive."

Prime Minister Cecil, all but lost in his reverie of fruit preservatives, snapped from his contemplation in a start. He looked wild-eyed at the two, as he had only just caught the last sentence of the conversation. When Incitatus and Celestia noticed him, they were so occupied with his behavior that they did not betray any emotions of their own beyond perplexity. Cecil began to panic, waiting for a cue of any sorts to his next course of action.

"We are still feeling thoughtful today," Celestia supplied.

Cecil appeared to relax. "Of course," he said.

Only with the universe back in order did he also notice he had attracted the stares of the entire procession of ponies in line with his behavior. He coughed, dismissively, and then began rubbing his hooves together malevolently. "Yes," he muttered, "Good."

Celestia rolled her eyes, then returned her attentions to Incitatus.

"Mistress," Incitatus said, "I did want to talk to you about something."

Incitatus glanced over his shoulder at the hulking equine form of Bucephalus, who was chatting with a young female soldier at the other end of the room.

"This morning, as I was dressing for the day's events, Bucephalus burst into my quarters demanding to know what I would be wearing!"

Celestia nodded.

"Of course, knowing he was after the secrets to my fabulous fashion sense, and not wanting to arrive in public wearing the same thing as a common soldier, I refused to tell him. You understand?"

Incitatus prodded a hoof in Celestia's direction. She nodded again.

"So he says to me that if I will not be candid, I will dress like a soldier and be predictable. Naturally, I behave in a completely agreeable fashion and put on the plate armor, but he!"

Incitatus pointed to Bucephalus, who noticed. The black stallion began stalking towards the throne.

"He snatched the chest plate away from me, naturally just after I figure out the perfect ensemble to finish the look! He said I was making a mockery of the army, and he tried to take helmet away too, but I ran!"

Bucephalus drew to within easy hearing distance of Incitatus's complaint, then stopped to burn holes in the back of Incitatus's head with his gaze.

"I had to complete the painting of my hooves in hiding! Can you believe that, Princess Celestia? In hiding!"

Incitatus was becoming excited. He pranced in place, raising one hoof after the next to show Celestia each at a time, gathering the focus of the entire courtroom, which was now watching the performance with rapt attention. Cecil was happy – this was much more distracting than the fool he had made of himself just a few moments ago. Celestia just nodded.

"It is deplorable! Truly, something must be done!"

A pale breath of amusement passed over Celestia's face. "I suppose I have killed ponies for less," she muttered.

Incitatus stopped his charade for a moment and stared. A grin crept upon Buchephalus's face, who, if not always capable of recognizing a subtle threat, necessarily, was still perfectly happy to interpret one against Incitatus in this case.

"Um," Incitatus choked out, losing steam for the righteousness of his crusade.

He lowered his head and cleared his throat, then noticed everyone was staring at him. It was definitely time to end with a joke and leave Celestia be. That would be the smart thing to do. On the other hand, of course, he could also try to leave with his pride! That could only end in one of two ways, Incitatus reasoned. Good odds there.

"I was wondering if you might permit me to challenge Bucephalus to a duel?"

Bucephalus snorted, and the filly he had been flirting with tittered in the background. Celestria was completely awestruck. "A duel?" she asked.

Incitatus was a horse, and generally speaking a horse's large size made duels unfair to the much more common individual of pony size. However, Incituatus was by all means somewhat slender of a buck, and compared to Bucephalus he was practically put together with dry noodles.

"Of course!" Incitatus said, gaining confidence again. "I'd really like to... I'd really like to kick that smug work horse in the chops."

Incitatus kicked at the air as he said this, but the delivery of the words came out sounding flat, and the kick was halfhearted. Bucephalus's was aglow with smug self-assurance. Everyone in the courtroom knew how one sided the fight would be, including Celestia. The important thing, she thought, was to simply diffuse the situation without giving either colt ammunition against the other.

"You've already been placed on house arrest twice for dueling," she said to Incitatus. "I don't see any reason why I should promote such useless and mindless violence between two high ranking government officials."

Incitatus flashed an apologetic smile at his goddess, failing to notice as a servant scampered past him to the prime minister. He turned to look at Bucephalus, who held his head defiantly towards the other stallion. "I guess you lucked out this time!" Incitatus taunted, pressing his luck. "You – you scoundrel!"

The servant finished a hurried report to Cecil and the prime minister swiftly dismissed him. "Lady Celestia, our guest," he implored.

Celestia motioned for him to go, and Cecil jogged to the courtroom's double doors. He disappeared behind them, and a hush fell over the crowd. Incitatus, realizing he was no longer the center of attention, took this opportunity to slink back into the crowd. He tried to keep his helmet from rattling all over his head this time. Several minutes passed, and the crowd began to grow impatient. Ponies began to chat in low tones, a few making audible scoffs about the importance of being on time to a meeting with the sun goddess.

At last, Cecil returned. His trip to the center of the room lacked enthusiasm, and where he stood he was visibly shaken, his knees wobbling just in the slightest. "Presenting," he announced, "Viscount Hastur of Carcosa."