Princess Celestia goes on a diplomatic mission to a rural pony community in the midst of a harvest festival...and finds herself the unexpected (and unwanted) chosen one of the wine making festival!
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A continuation of the MLP nightmare series
Prt 1: Luna's Nightmare http://www.furaffinity.net/view/6763155/
Prt 2: Rainbow Dash's Nightmare http://www.furaffinity.net/view/7422921/
Prt 3: Pinkie Pie's Nightmare http://www.furaffinity.net/view/7572102/

Savy fans of blueberry and inflation tales may recognize the premise. It's an homage to one of the greats of flationary fiction, not a rip off. Promise!

The second part will see more of a larger change. After seven pages the Capn' figured he'd split it into two parts. Hopefully the first bit is intriguing :)
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Celestial Wine
Prt 1: I’m Not As Think As You Drunk I Am

Princess Celestia sighed quietly as yet another message appeared in yet another plume of green fire to hover for a moment before tumbling into the growing pile. Although she couldn’t be certain without actually opening it, the last five she’d read we’re the same so she’d given up the bother. The single passage was indelibly ingrained in her mind and somewhere Spike must have been suffering world-class indigestion thank to his mistresses concern.

Dear Princess Celestia,
Just writing to say hello to my favorite princess in all of Equestia and for no other reason whatsoever. I’m perfectly fine and I’m certain I’ll have many valued lessons to share with you soon. Spike has a tummy ache, but other then that we’re all perfectly fine and not the least bit worried about anything at all.
Hope to hear from you, just to catch up sometime not necessarily now.

Your faithful Student,
Twilight Sparkle

P.S Is it true you’re leaving?

“You finally reap the benefit of asking nigh the entire valley now to send you tidings.”
The alicorn smiled patiently.
“Luna, I knew full well the responsibility to myself when I asked for them.”
Princess Luna huffily blew a strand of mane from her eyes, striding into the room with an imperious glance at a collection of luggage in various shades of pink, the half empty bottle of cider and glass, and the sea of letters crowding the fireplace stoop.
“I’ve always wondered what my dear sister’s disciples confer over.”
Before Celestia could react Luna gestured her horn at the heap and summoned on a cloud of blue magic one of the correspondences. She unfurled it with a nod of her head, smirking as she read.
“Dear Princess Celestia. Darling, it’s really been too long…”
“Rarity…” Celestia groaned. “Not that I have anything against her, but I had hoped she’d be the sensible one.”
“Here’s one from an ‘Applejack’ I believe we met at some juncture.” Chuckled Luna, beckoning another letter into the air. “You have such quaint friends, dear sister.”
“They’re sweet.” Celestia said, smiling sadly. “But they’re all beside themselves just because I’m leaving for a week long diplomatic mission. If something really serious happened I can’t even begin to wonder how they’d react.”
“Diplomatic mission, hm?”
“I suppose I can tell you. There’s a border county called Myrtille I don’t believe I’ve visited in decades and they’re about to hold a big harvest festival so it seemed as good a time as any.”
“And escaping your mewling dependents has nothing to do with this decision?”
“No.” Celestia said quickly.
“We see.” Luna shrugged. “Well, perhaps this drink will fortify you.”
Then, suddenly a golden goblet hung suspended right before Celestia’s eyes.
“Um…very kind of you.”
“It was the least we were capable of to commemorate all you’ve done for us.”
Celestia couldn’t be certain but her sister’s lips seemed to tighten on her words, her grinning not seem entirely genuine.
“I had some cider I was…”
“Trust us.” The goblet bounced playfully against Celestia’s flank causing the purple liquid within to jostle and slosh. “This concoction of ours will see that you receive all the invigoration you can stand, dear sister.”
“Do you really have to continue on with the Royal Canterlot Voice?” the alicorn muttered, taking a tentative sip. “It fell out of a fashion a few hundred years ago.”
“Might have something to do with our spending a thousand years elsewhere?” Luna asked, her expression the picture of innocence. “Drink up now.”
Celestia did so, finding she actually liked the beverage’s flavor although instead of ultimately making her feel more lively it seemed to be rapidly doing the opposite.
“So Luna…”
She blinked very slowly, looking confused.
“Um…yes. Luna, I meant to tell you my…plans.”
Celestia tottered slightly, eventually electing to make her way to the bed. It was looking increasingly more and more inviting.
“Yes?”
Her sister was looking eager for some reason.
“Plans, yes…”
Celestia sat down heavily, smacking her lips.
“I need to have some one I can trust to look after the valley in my absence….”
Her eyes were becoming difficult to open.
“Surely one of your little ponies.” Luna snarled, not bothering to disguise her contempt.
“Hmm?” Celestia shook her head. “Oh no, there’re nowhere near ready for that. I was thinking maybe you…”
The moon princess’ eyes widened.
“Pardon?”
“Luna…could you take care of my realm while I’m away?”
“I…”
“After my nap.” Celestia yawned. “Goodness, packing and all those letters really took it out of me.”
“But…” Luna’s right eye twitched. “You…trust me to rule in your stead?”
“Don’t you mean ‘trust us’?” Celestia giggled, flopping down onto her sheets without bothering to pull the blanket over her.
“Never mind!” Luna snapped. “We…I was told…you didn’t trust me. You hated me.”
“N…never.” Celestia murmured dreamily “Of course we trust you.”
“After all I’ve done?” Luna sounded almost like a scolded foal.
“Even…so…”
Celestia’s breathing evened out.
“Even if, say, I kinda drugged your drink?”
Loud and unladylike snoring echoed in the room.

--

“Wake up, princess!”
It took some moments for her eyes to readjust. When they did she wasn’t certain that she’d returned to consciousness. Bobbing over her was the comically misshapen face of a beaming bucktoothed mule in a currier’s hat.
Finally her memory banks activated and her mouth formed the name before she understood why.
“Snails?”
The mule brayed bashfully.
“I’ve got to say, it’s an honor to be your currier on your journey Celestia!”
“Think nothing of it.” She said, returning his grin. “Is my luggage prepared?”
“I took the liberty.”
She noticed he was taking very deliberate steps as he’d managed to stack every single article of her gear on his back.
“Are you sure you can…”
“Oh yeah, sure!” Snail said, gritting his teeth. “No problem. Mules you know.”
“Uh huh.” The princess said, eyeing the swaying load. “Well, I’m going to brush my mane and make a few other preparations. I imagine my sister has already taken things in hoof?”
“She’s wearing your crown as we speak.”
Celestia squawked in surprised and her eyes traveled upwards, seeing the crown was no longer in place. It took here a few deep breaths to regain herself.
“Good, good. My she’s fervent about stewardship!”
“Ponyville was a little freaked out when she tried juggling the sun.”
“Oh…” she tried to hide her increasing alarm behind a raised hoof. “Um…that’s inventive. It would certainly be unfortunate if she considered the duty of my stead as an obligation. I’m glad she’s…amusing herself.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” The mule said, shimmying with his burden to the door. “Besides, we’re going to my hometown!”
“Your hometown?”
“Myrtille! My brother and I are originally from there. We came to Ponyville because we wanted to live a more urbane lifestyle.”
“So I take it Myrtille is not…built-up?”
“A more rustic, teeny, muddy homestead of bumpkins would be hard to find.” Snail proclaimed proudly. “On the way there I’ll tell you all about it!”

--

“…and if the wyvern sees it’s tail then the harvest season will last at least another seven point four months!” Snails continued.
“Um hmm.” Celestia said politely, more interested in the countryside below her flying carriage then her currier but paying polite interest. “Please, continue on with what you were saying.”
“Gladly, princess!”
From his position in the back seat the mule couldn’t see Celestia opening a novel on her knee to read as he continued.
“So the fillies when they come of age are allowed to attend the wine festival. They all vie for the privilege of being named Queen of the Vineyard and to that lucky one the greatest of honors is given.”
“Hmm?”
“Well they’re allowed to drink deep of the wine from the last festival, and more importantly eat the magic blueberries that…oh! We’re here!”
Celestia had just finished a fairly steam passage about a strapping young alicorn pirate when she felt the familiar bump of her carriage coming to ground.
When she looked up she half believed they hadn’t made it to their destination at all. There were only half a dozen low-slung tile-roofed houses with vast tracks between them and a few old stone buildings connected by winding unpaved roads.
“Home sweet home.” Snail said with a sigh. “Now I told you all the rules of social conduct and the rituals of the community so you should fit in fine.”
“Huh?” Celestia blanched. “Um…yes. Thank you.”
“Be sure to remember them carefully. It’s not exactly…you know…dangerous or anything, but you’re better off if you know how things work around here.”
The mule hopped off and began unloading the princess’ luggage as Celestia bowed in respectful thanks to her charioteers.
That was when she noticed the sizable throng of ponies approaching from the village.
They were a diverse bunch: several unicorns, a few pegasi, and many, many earth ponies of different coats and features. They all uniformly wore drab but serviceable clothing for farm work and some carried perhaps unintentionally menacing farm implements strapped to their back, held in their teeth, or levitated by magic before them.
Collectively they eyed the newcomers with suspicion.
A young dirty-faced filly approached and gawped at her as if she was the most wondrous thing she’d ever beheld.
“Hi!” Celestia said, raising her hoof in greeting.
Immediately the filly screamed and galloped away, merging with the crowd.
“Left hoof.” Snail said, quietly.
“Hmm?”
“Traditional Myrtille greeting is raising the left hoof, not the right.”
“What does the right hoof mean?” Celestia asked in a whisper.
“It means you’re about to punish her for planting lettuce in the cornfield by mistake.”
“That’s…oddly specific.”
Snails looked sheepish.
“It takes some getting used to.”
“Princess Celestia!”
An earth pony with a flowing red robe strode from the mob. He had at least taken the effort to clip his mane and facial hair and this coupled with the golden broach on his shoulder made his position as mayor a certainty.
“It’s an honor to welcome you to our humble village!” he fell to one hoof in a low bow. “Just in time for the festival as well.”
“It’s my honor.” Celestia replied, dipping her horn courteously. “I am looking forward to strengthening our regional friendship and enjoying the delights of your charming community!”
This declaration caused a ripple of talk amongst the assembled. Without apparent cause one farmer at the front clearly licked his lips.

--

That night the dour village came suddenly to life. A roaring bonfire was built upon which was roasted straw effigies of Luna, much to Celestia’s uncomfortable amusement. Torches flickered everywhere, garlands were dolled out to any and all, and the laughing children danced with streamers tied to their flanks while the fillies coming of age as advertised stood by looking oddly solemn in their finest gowns. It was everything the princess had long supposed in her mind encompassed a quaint, pastoral reverie down to the last detail and she was having a great deal of fun watching the strange, flailing dance, sampling the fresh foods, and listening to the accented songs wafting through night.
In fact it was so bizarrely close to her visions it seemed more like a dream then reality.
Somewhere along the line she was offered a platter of the ripest, juiciest blueberries she’d ever seen. She snatched one with her power and tasted it daintily, unwilling to refuse the offer but not wanting to appear wanton.
As soon as the flesh burst in her mouth however her inhibitions were swallowed. Sweet fluid flooded in and in that tiny blueberry her taste, her smell, every sense seemingly at once was held captive for one glorious moment.
When she reopened her eyes she slowly became aware of a dribble of blue from the corner of her mouth.
Her self-consciousness only worsened when she noticed the local who had offered the blueberries staring at her enthralled.
“I’m terribly sorry.” She said, flushed. “I know I’m probably making a spectacle of myself but those berries I must say are absolutely…”
Even as she opened her maw to finish the sentence the pony tossed a handful of grapes into it.
Celestia hadn’t ever been picky, but she was aware like anyone that flavors tended to diminish when repeated. Not so in this case inexplicably.
If anything it was better! Luscious, delicious, cool and uplifting! So much juice it felt like it was filling her entire mouth! Now she was dimly cognizant of the humiliating moans she was making but too far-gone to care.
As the afterglow faded she noticed not the serving pony was positively jubilant.
The same could not be said of the debutant fillies that were all glaring at her in abject hatred.
“What have I done?” Celestia frowned gravely. “Have I interrupted a ritual or done something amiss for you?”
“On the contrary.” The mayor said, walking up to her. “You’ve fulfilled our fondest wish.”
“Oh?”
She scanned the crowd, looking for answers. None were forthcoming and she noticed for the first time her charioteers and Snails were missing from their ranks.
Of less pressing concern but nagging curiosity was a sort of a chill coming over her.
“I heard that the young fillies preparing for maidenhood participate in a rite involving blueberries and wine?” Celestia queried, willing any kind of conversation to break the ogling.
Almost as soon as she’d finished speaking a wooden cup full to the brim with wine was thrust beneath her snout.
“I’m…I’m flattered really.” She made a polite gesture to wave the cup away. “I need to find my friends however and…”
Her hoof caused the cup to tip in the serving pony’s hoofs and the smallest measure of wine slipped from the lip to land with a plop on the ground.
Immediately after a muffled but angry murmuring broke out in the onlookers. The server pony looked so mortified Celestia seized the cup without a second’s thought.
“No, it’s alright! I’m really quite privileged to sample your wine. Watch. I’ll drink it all for you. No hard feelings?”
And, somewhat reluctantly, she made good on her statement although it took a considerable effort to down. It was smooth and tasted just as wonderful as the grapes from before, but there seemed to be a surprising amount of wine in such a tiny glass.
To compound the issue she was beginning to fell…satiated. Odd since she hadn’t had anything to eat except a few grapes before the cup.
With a satisfied gasp she didn’t have to force much Celestia set the cup down.
“Ah yes…very tasty! Yes thank you that’s quite enou…”
The serving pony was already pouring a second measure.
“Gee…”
Celestia looked at the cup thoughtfully.
“Okay, one more cup and then I really mustn’t. I like wine with the best of them, but I admit that once I start on something so rich and…bold…and tasty…”
Her tongue had snaked by it’s own will out of her mouth. She hurriedly recalled it.
“Cake, wine, or cheese you understand. I have a bit of a weakness and I’m trying to watch my…”
No one surrounding her seemed to be blinking.
“Right. Down the hatch!”
It was nigh impossible to swill the drink as quickly as she wanted. Everything was awkward enough already, but the effect this infusion had on her was making matters further uneasy. The chill was still there but it was mingling with a rising heat in her blood, as if her body was cooling but the rest of her was being stirred to warmth. Having never been drunk (except that one time several hundred years ago she’d gratefully forgotten) Celestia could only assume this was the beginning of that experience, but this was different. The thick syrup lingering on her tongue was somehow firing but also deadening her sensations. She felt energetic, infused with enthusiasm but logical reason was wearing away replaced by an incessant, animal…need.
She set the emptied glass down.
It was filled and soon after she’d tipped it down her throat for the third time. A gas bubble caused a hiccup but it still felt so good, so velvety.
“More…” she whispered, and the serving pony was a bit too enthusiastic to oblige.
The debutant fillies were in the throes of profound disappointment now, snapping at each other and throwing up their hooves in despair.
“There there.” Admonished the mayor coolly. “There’s always next year.”
She was in a haze, lifting and tipping cups before she was alert to holding them. The fullness inside her was steadily increasing and the chill/heat escalating with it.
Finally she came too long enough to zip the cup away as the serving pony tried to pour the dregs of a vase of wine into it.
“Gotcha.” She said with a cheery wink.
But almost immediately after her eye caught the wine glistening on the dirt. A great sorrow and loss filled her heart and she found her body leaping forward, her neck lowering, and her tongue lashing out again and again.
It even tasted good mingled with mud!
She’d had enough with the weirdness for one day. Without much deliberation she focused on teleporting away. Somewhere, anywhere else she could collect her thoughts and recover her friends before leaving this strange land for good.
Only…nothing happened! No flash of light. No magic cloud.
Her horn felt…wrong. Numb. She shook it, pleaded silently for the spells to arrive.
Nothing.
What was going on?
“It’s beginning!” someone shouted excitedly.
Celestia stopped her mad lapping long enough to catch sight of her reflection by firelight in the puddle. The wine tinted everything but she was all too aware that on her immaculate white fur was now a patch of…some color on the tip of her nose.
She brushed at it irritably with her hoof believing it mud.
Then it began to spread.
“Hey…” he voice was cautiously apprehensive. “What is going…?”
“Gotcha.” The mayor hissed coldly in her ear.
To his subjects he raised his hooves.
“The wine has chosen the new vessel!”
A chorus of cheers rang high, all except from the fillies who looked vengeful.
“Prepare the yeast and break out the rest of the harvest!” the mayor cried out. “Tomorrow we will have the finest vintage in centuries: the wine of an alicorn!”
Celestia hiccupped meekly.