... and having you be referenced as a reliable source of information has lead to her wishing to make your acquaintance.

It was a line that Patches read over and over again as she sat on the train, listening to the chugging of the steam engine, the clacking of he wheels on the tracks, and the dull mumble of other ponies in the same car conversing with each other. The Princess wanted to make her acquaintance. It was a thought that she had a hard time wrapping her head around, but why wouldn't she? Patches was a less than unknown pony in Ponyville, married to a blacksmith and mother of two great musicians, and one of the last living Samareai in Equestria. If there were ponies that did know her, it was that she was the one with the weird hat that never stepped outside of her shop during the day, and was rarely out at night since her coltfriend turned husband moved in with her.

...cordially invite you to Canterlot Castle for a meeting with her majesty.

Patches lowered the note back to her lap, the piece of fine parchment with the swooping signature of the royalty that had invited her, her low emerald gaze going over the detail in the signature once more from the darkness that was cast by the shader she wore on her head. Ever so slightly, she adjusted herself in her seat, the katana that she carried with her was unhooked from the belt that it hung off of so that she could sit comfortably in the seat. The sword in question leaned against her shoulder, with her foreleg wrapped around it like it was an old friend to keep it from falling away from her. The weapon turned some heads in the station, as she still received a few stray glances from the quiet ponies every so often, as if they feared that she was going to snap at some point during the ride and cut it short, like some cold hearted killer.

Letting a slow exhale out, she closed her eyes and lowered her head.

There was no cold hearted killer anymore. That time had long passed. She was riding to Canterlot for a different purpose this time, she did not have reason to fear anything. She could still remember the feeling of helplessness though, sitting on the train in this exact same circumstance, reading a different letter over and over again, knowing that she could have very well been riding to her death. It was not meant to be, but it would be too much to ask if she didn't leave that fight without the recollections. Those blank, angry-- no, whatever that was was beyond anger, beyond definition, and it had threatened to consume her once. The shade of her past that needed to be expelled from the world that it should have never come to, her and whomever she had corrupted.

Breathe in, breathe out. Control your breathing, and you can control yourself.

With the quiet breathing that came in and out of her nostrils, she held the sheathed blade a little closer to herself. That time had long passed. There was no more danger in Canterlot for her, nor was there danger there for her daughter, who sat in the seat beside her, staying just as quiet as she did. As she always did, just like her mother. The quiet soul that made glorious, heart warming music that lifted the spirits of many. If there was one thing that Patches could make light of in this train ride, it was that she was travelling to Canterlot not to confront the dark, but to meet with the light with the bright spark that was her daughter, one of the two things that she was the most proud of in this world.

=====

The train arrived at the station, the engine gasping out one last burst of steam before bellowing out its deep whistle. The hostesses of the train went to every seat, waking up those that fell asleep and directing everypony off in an orderly manner. Waiting for their turn to leave the train, Patches watched as Honey Dew got up and started walking down the aisle before she too picked up her katana in the ghostly white glow of her magic, entering the aisle and adding the saddlebag that contained the lone, heavy book that she carried with her for this trip. Slinging it carefully over her back, she followed her daughter out the train door and onto the platform that bustled with pones both leaving and ponies who were anxiously waiting to get on the train.

Taking a few minutes to get themselves sorted, the two of them walked together away from the train station, going deeper into the city of Canterlot, towards the skyward spires that were the castle. As they walked, Patches took the time to glance around at their surroundings. It was such a well kept, well developed place, and it was so beautiful in the light of day, and much less threatening than it felt in the dark of midnight. The closer to the castle they traveled, the more Patches noticed the looks she was getting as well. The well dressed, high class ponies that made up the aristocracy, dressed in the latest fashions to try to make themselves seem important. These were the kind of ponies that Patches tried to appeal to in terms of fashion, as it was her job to make and fix clothing. Of course, nothing that she had made would be spotted on these ponies in her lifetime. As good as she was assured her handiwork was, the only one who wore them to special events was her daughter. The name brand behind the clothing was what mattered most to these ponies.

It was this reason that the two of them stood out, too. Neither of them were dressed in anything fancy. Hon had her hair done in her usual style, and Patches wore the shader to keep the bright sun out of her eyes. They were both out of place in this city, and made even more so the closer they were to the castle grounds. It mattered not as they kept going, for eventually, the street eventually led to an open portcullis - the inner sanctum of the city, where the keep resided. At the gate, there was a group of four guards: three standing at attention, and one processing the few ponies that wanted to enter the castle grounds. Glancing at Honey Dew with an elated sigh and a brief smile, the two of them approached the guard that was letting the ponies in.

It wasn't hard to notice that the guards were already sizing her up, more so because the two of them were carrying weapons, which was odd for civilians to do. Patches couldn't blame them, it was their job to shield the royalty, and they certainly didn't need to be discreet about their examinations of them. Looking up from her shader just enough so that her emerald eyes could be seen from under the rim and still remain shaded, Patches presented the letter of invitation to the guard and said with a low bow and a quiet, polite tone, "I am Master Samareai Patches Zephyrr, and this is my daughter, Samareai Honey Dew. We come at the invitation of Princess Celestia, and are to meet her assistant, Miss Pen Sketch, before we see her. We humbly ask permission to be let into the castle to meet with them."

Patches felt a sinking feeling in her gut as the guard asked for them to surrender their weapons. The thought of parting with the weapon that she had carried for most of her life was enough to make her feel sick. This sword was practically an extension of herself; losing it would be similar to losing one of her legs, and she wasn't about to give up any of those willingly. Then again, what was she to expect? To walk into the castle grounds armed? She would have to cripple herself to see the princess, but then again, was that really worth violating the gift that was given to her by her late master?

With the thought of it leaving her possession came the thought of what would happen to it when it was out of her sight. At least at Ponyville, she knew where it was in her house, and that it would stay there without being desecrated. Who was to say that these guards would not take a look at their weapons, maybe swing them about, or... gods help them, damage the weapon. Patches swallowed hard at that last thought. She would not know what she would do if such a thing were to happen, a sword that marked her initiation as a samareai, destroyed by the fools that were supposed to be taking care of it.

Ignoring the confrontation with the pony that was screaming about guppies, Patches asked quietly and evenly, "Is there any way that we may keep our weapons, sir? This weapon has never left my side since I received it as a gift from my master, and it is as much a part of me as my legs." She then remembered that Honey Dew had seen the princess before, and would have had to deal with the issue of the guards taking her weapon too. Hoping that that the answer to the question was favourable, both for her sake and her daughter's sake, she asked Honey, "What was your arrangement to keep your gift with you, Honey?"

"A spell was cast on it," Honey replied evenly, a very unamused look cast towards the ridiculous ponies screaming about the fishes. "A spell that would sound an alarm if the weapon was drawn. A spell I had on it last I met with Princess Celestia," she said as she returned her gaze to the guard in front of her. "It's either that, or we come back for the blades in a few moments anyway, as the blades are no doubt something we will be discussing with Her Majesty."