//------------------------------// // 18 - A Mare's Place // Story: Limits of the Horizon // by Beware The Carpenter //------------------------------// There was a long silence. Fidora looked like she was waiting for Twilight’s permission to leave, but the thought of being alone and parting with an argument seemed unbearable and so Twilight tried to turn the conversation towards something happier; “You said Obtrillion gave you two fillies for your first anniversary; did he give you anything for your second?” Fidora smiled, reached under her mane and drew out a long knife. She twirled it in the air a few times, before sliding it back under her mane which she then pulled aside to reveal… her chest? Fidora slid her hoof under her fur and pulled, for a moment it looked like she was tearing off her own skin and then she was holding a metal sheath, bound by three leather straps which wrapped around her shoulder, back and stomach. “The knife was forged by Ferric before he went missing, the perception filter, preventing anyone from noticing it while sheathed, was invented and installed by Obtrillion. For a while he tried adjusting the enchantment so the blade would be invisible even when I held it, but the war came more quickly then we’d anticipated and he ran out of time.” Fidora re-drew the blade and offered it to Twilight who turned it over carefully in her telekinesis. It was beautiful. The grip was infused with quartz crystals, forming into a wide cross-guard that curved gracefully around a double-edged blade immaculately carved from what looked like white silver; and yet Twilight’s knowledge of weaponry told her that this knife was far more than just decorative. “Obtrillion bought it at auction for nearly three million rupees. To any other stallion, it would have been worth twenty times what I am; but Obtrillion wanted it to keep me safe.” Twilight passed the knife back to Fidora who replaced it in its sheath and let it fall back to her chest. A moment later, her front appeared unadorned even though Twilight was looking for the sheath. “If you wanted to change the subject though, there are many other things we could talk about. I’ve told you about myself, but I still know almost nothing about you, save for your mistune with marriages.” “Marriages?” asked Twilight coolly. Fidora paused in embarrassment, “Forgive me for asking, but you said you were twenty-four and unwed when your blackout period began. Did your first husband die, or had he dismissed you?” “I was never married; before or after Zohan.” Fidora fell silent; first in shock, then confusion which gave way to deep pity tinged with revulsion; “I’m so sorry.” She whispered; “I… didn’t know you you’d been abandoned.” “Abandoned?” Fidora looked even more confused, “…Orphaned?” “Not until I was I was an adult.” Fidora looked down, struggling to find the right words; “But you… fended for yourself?” “I was never a prostitute.” Growled Twilight; “Do you really believe that wife and prostitute are the only two jobs we’re capable of!?” “…No.” said Fidora hesitantly, “I’ve seen mares support themselves through employment before but… are you saying you were never married except for the two years you don’t remember?” “No.” “Were you a chatelaine?” “No.” “Lover?” “No.” “Not even-” “No.” Twilight had had this conversation with many of her students; she’d never expected to have it with her own daughter-in-law. “…Wow.” Whispered Fidora quietly, “You… missed out on a lot.” “I know.” Agreed Twilight, “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t lived. You have no idea of the things I’ve accomplished in my life; the things I’ve seen, the spells I’ve created, the students I’ve taught, the country I helped shape. Family doesn’t have to be everything for us Fidora; mares can do almost all the jobs stallions can, some even better than they do. To see taking care of a family as being the only thing you can do, is to only live half a life.” Fidora looked at her angrily for a moment before calming herself slightly, “Even if that were true, it wouldn’t make you right.” “How so?” Fidora thought for a moment; “How many siblings do you have?” “One older brother; Shining Armor.” Fidora nodded and fell silent, apparently waiting for Twilight to list the rest of her siblings; “That’s… it?” “Yes.” Twilight lied out of reflex. “Your parents only had two children?” No; they’d had three. Twilight was a middle child. She’d carried the secret of her younger brother most of her life and hadn’t even told her friends about him because she knew they wouldn’t understand. Over the years the guilt of the lie had gradually lessened until it was almost dormant; but in light of the last few days it suddenly reappeared, hideous and ugly, and yet now more than ever, honesty was not an option. Fidora would never understand how a family of anything but monsters could surrender their four year old child to a maximum security mental asylum, knowing he would probably never see sunlight again; even if it was for his own safety, for everyone’s safety. “Yes” Nodded Twilight, “Only two.” Fidora stared for a minute and then nodded; “I am the youngest of the seven children of my father and his only wife; I have four brothers and two sisters. If we suppose that our families are typical of our cultures, your family barely maintains the population and, accounting for young deaths and infertilities, can’t even sustain itself long-term; where-as my family has multiplied. If you’re right that a mare whose life’s goal is to be an endowed wife and mother only accomplishes half her true potential; the children of one Zaharren family will accomplish five and a half times the potential of one person, versus the fulfilled potential of only two people via the Equestrian model, leaving us with nearly a threefold advantage. Imagine if your mother had been in proper submission to your father, and you’d had two or three more brothers and sisters. I’m sure you’ve made contributions to society that are worthwhile, but if you’d had two extra brothers, I suspect they would have accomplished everything you have and a bit more; meanwhile you and your sisters would have mothered another generation even greater than your own.” Twilight scoffed; “I’ve done things hundreds of stallions have tried to do and failed; there have been at least three times when-” “Had you invented spells that could heal previously incurable diseases when you were eleven?” “No.” “Had you arranged for clean water to be provided to hundreds of thousands of people when you were twelve?” “No.” “And all your accomplishments, do any one of them match the personal satisfaction of knowing that Obtrillion is alive because of you?” “…No.” Fidora smiled, “Perhaps Obtrillion is simply too perfect, that the universe decided there could only be one of him; but imagine, if you can, what it would be like if there were four or five more like him. Wouldn’t that have been a life worth living?” Twilight knew with every fiber of her being that it would have; she didn’t despise the life she’d lived, but if she had the chance to do it all over, maybe – “It’s OK to say it,” smiled Fidora, “It’s only natural to desire children and a lord.” “There’s where I get off.” Said Twilight firmly; “Yes, a family is something I’ve always wanted. Yes, five Obtrillions would accomplish far more than I ever have. But if I did get married, it would be to a stallion who loved me as his equal; he would be my husband, not ‘my lord’.” Fidora blinked; “Then it’s easy to see why you’ve never loved. A mare can’t be a wife without being a slave.” “That’s not true; but if it were I would rather live alone then be anyone’s slave.” “Is that why you left him?” “…What?” “Obtrillion, is that why you abandoned him?” “No! I’d never have abandoned him if I’d had any choice.” “And what would you have done if you’d been allowed to keep him and, right after he was born, Obtrillion had cried in the middle of the night to be fed?” “I’d have fed him.” “Even if you were exhausted because you’d just fed him an hour ago?” “Of course.” “And would you have demanded payment from him?” Twilight’s anger turned to shock as she realized what Fidora was saying… and that she was right; “If a mother is halfway deserving of her title, taking care of a baby is going to be hard work, you don’t get paid, and you don’t really have a choice. How is that not slavery?” “…It is.” Agreed Twilight carefully, “But no one would actually call it that.” “I would.” Attested Fidora firmly, “When I bear Obtrillion’s children, I know it won’t always be easy. I know there will be some sleepless nights and messes I’d prefer not to clean up; and yet I believe that those will be some of the happiest years of my life. I will be a slave to my sons and daughters because to me it is the same as love. Both words come with the simple meaning that another person’s best interests supersede my own; do you think me a fool for wanting this?” “No.” “Then what do you believe?” asked Fidora, “Because to me it seems like you hardly even know. You say your greatest regret is never doing something you consider an abomination. You admit that your life’s been miserable, yet insist that your philosophies are right. You say you’ve made contributions to society and yet if every mare had only one child, civilization would cease to exist. Despite this, you take it on yourself to instruct me as to how to be happy, completely ignoring the fact that I already am happy. Please explain this to me.” “Marriage is good… parenthood is good… but it shouldn’t be forced.” “So if a mare doesn’t feel like caring for her newborn son, it’s OK for her to abandon him?” “No; but a mare shouldn’t be forced to become a wife or mother if she doesn’t want to be.” “And I want Obtrillion.” Insisted Fidora, “Obtrillion did not kidnap me from my father’s house after he escaped the Raggarock’s prison; I ran away with him, knowing that if something went wrong, my father would not ransom me back a second time. If anything happens to Obtrillion that doesn’t kill me first, I will not be able to avoid capture for long; I will either be dead, or wish that I was. I made this choice because I love him; and Obtrillion loves me for far more than just what’s under my tail; it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate what’s there, but he chose me as his companion and as his friend long before he took me as his inamorata. He saw my mind, read my heart, and knew that I wouldn’t despise him for his unknown origin, and even understood his pain of abandonment.” Fidora stopped like she said something she hadn’t meant to; but seeing Twilight’s silent anticipation, she hesitantly continued, her voice tinged with both shame and vehemence. “My… grandmother was one of the royal concubines of the sultan; Caleth. Not only did she defile herself by committing adultery with one of the palace guards; but when one of the House Lords hired her lover to assassinate the Sultan, she joined the conspiracy to murder her own husband. They were discovered before the attempt; the guard was killed but my grandmother escaped and fled the country, abandoning my mother who was less than a year old.” Fidora swallowed painfully before continuing, “My mother was conceived before that guard migrated to Timbucktoo; she was pure, but still never escaped the fetor of her mother’s treason. Even today as an old mare it haunts her sometimes… and yet it’s only because this happened, and I learned as a young filly how to be sensitive to my mother’s pain, that I’ve been able to comfort Obtrillion in his, and love him as completely as I do.” “Then love him” offered Twilight, “But that doesn’t mean you have to see yourself as less than he is. He doesn’t bow when he sees you, so you shouldn’t need to bow to him.” “It’s OK Mrs. Sparkle, I like bowing to your son. I enjoy the view from down there.” “You like looking up at him to enforce the idea that you’re inferior?” Fidora gave a wry smile and leaned over, “I’m not always looking at his face. Obtrillion can tell what I’m feeling from two rooms away with his telepathy, but I resort to a much simpler method to check how he’s feeling, and then I know whether I should act discuss the affairs of the house, or whether I should act more salacious.” Had the room suddenly gotten hotter? If it had, Fidora didn’t seem to notice, she just kept on looking at Twilight with those utterly shameless, completely casual eyes; burning holes into the sides of Twilight’s cheeks; “…You’re… joking.” “Why should I be joking? Aren’t you pleased that your son’s needs are being cared for?” “I’m concerned that you don’t have any ambition apart from him and that you’re comfortable having every aspect of your life entirely at his mercy." "Obtrillion is merciful." "He could kill you if he wanted; are you saying you're OK with that?" "If I ever failed him so badly that he rejected me and offered no hope of redemption, I would take my own life." Twilight shifted uneasily; she’d had hundreds of debates with students, over dozens of subjects; but Fidora’s blissful self-abasement was something new. "So you're saying that in your entire relationship with Obtrillion, there‘s not one thing you would change?" Fidora paused thoughtfully before answering; "There is one thing that haunts me, but I wouldn't change it, even if I could. If Obtrillion chose; he could come home one day with another mare, call her my sister-wife, and I would need to accept it… or he could even come home with two mares… or three or… however many he wanted. It scares me sometimes, but it is also one of my greatest joys. Every day that he come back alone, looking for me, and only me, proves his affection for me. I wonder how many mares in your country suspect their husbands of loving other mares, and have it eat them from the inside out. I will never know that torment; I know that Obtrillion loves me, and that's all I want." That was… a start. Twilight wasn’t nearly as sure of her own beliefs as she had been an hour ago; but seeing Fidora see herself as deserving love gave Twilight hope that she could meet her somewhere in the middle… someday. In the meantime, Twilight had more than enough to think about, and the small win she had now might not be repeated for some time. A glance over her shoulder showed the food Fidora had brought her was growing cold; and a note fluttered out of her vault on Zaharren culture, reminding her of the social graces of accepting hospitality, like eating food that was offered to you. “I want you to know” she said slowly, “I am truly grateful to you for everything you’ve done for Obtrillion. If calling yourself his slave really means that much to you, I won’t stand between you and him. But between us; I don’t want a slave, I want a daughter.” Fidora smiled; “I could remind you that where I’m from, daughters obey to the word of their mothers; but I understand your meaning of it. I will not regard your will as law.” “Thank you.” Twilight smiled. “Does this mean I can go without your permission?” Twilight nodded Fidora looked like she was about to bow, then stopped herself, drawing a smile to Twilight. Fidora stood up took one step, then stopped and turned like she’d remembered something. "One last thing" she said firmly; both pleading and threatening at once, "Don't hurt him. I grew up in a large family knowing I was loved, but I am the first friend that your son ever had, and I am the only one he has left. I am willing to share him with you; but if this is a trick, if you've just been waiting for him to grow up so he can be of use to you, walk away. Because if he lets himself love you and then it turns out you were just trying to get something out of him, if you force me to see the grief on his face when he realizes you were just using him I will...” Fidora stopped and swallowed, “…Never forgive you." Twilight smiled, reaching a few inches, across cultures and Obtrillion’s lifetime, and drew Fidora into a hug, “I’m here for Obtrillion, just like you are. I swear; I won’t let him down, if you’ll give me the chance.” Fidora hugged her back, nuzzling her softly; “I’ll hold you to it.” Chapter Nineteen >>> Shining Armor