The day was off to a dreadful start, but that didn’t mean that it had to be a bad day. Sure, the morning intelligence briefing was awful, and his wings had no feathers, and all of Equestria was falling apart, but that was no reason to be depressed, right? He had been faced with the tangible evidence that Grogar had infected another world, bringing his hate and apathy with him.
Wrapped in his grey woollen cloak, Gosling made for a dramatic figure as he approached the Director of Staff, a pony named Purple Party. For being the Director of Staff, and having a name like Purple Party, this particular pony wasn’t much fun at all and Gosling wasn’t too keen on having to deal with him.
A far more accurate name might have been Party Pooper.
The unicorn, a fastidious individual who was, indeed, a very purple pony, went rigid while Gosling approached. He also pulled off his golden-rimmed spectacles and began polishing them, even though they were already spotless. Gosling almost extended a wing to wave hello, but then caught himself before committing the awkward act.
“Greetings, Mister Party...” Gosling slipped into his most cordial voice, the one that Celestia had coached him on. “I was wondering, how go the preparations for the Winter Moon Festival?”
“Sir, those have been given low priority. No real preparations have been made. We’ve been very busy with other things.”
“Whaddaya mean—” Gosling caught himself, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Excuse me, Mister Party, but what do you mean by that? I thought I had made it clear that the Winter Moon Festival was to have its return this year. Why haven’t my requests been satisfied?”
“I sent planning agents out to test public opinion, and for whatever reason, ponies have very little interest in standing out beneath some pavilion on the longest, darkest night of the year, waiting for the midnight hour, and freezing their… ears off.” Purple Party’s face was absolutely blank at the moment, and he slid his glasses back on.
“So… you went against my wishes, you ignored my request to restore a festival that Equestria hasn’t officially celebrated in over a thousand years, you ignored my attempt at an inaugural return of a festival that celebrates my wife. Did you not understand that I am trying to revive public interest?”
“Resources are limited and I commanded my staff to focus on more important things—”
“THIS IS AN IMPORTANT THING!” Gosling bellowed, losing his cool and his composure in an eyeblink. “This is Luna’s self-esteem and well being! This is her acceptance, this is restoring her to her proper place in society as one of the ruling heads of Equestria, one of the Royal Pony Sisters, of which there are TWO! The whole point of having the festival this year was to remind ponies that it exists! I wanted to surprise her and make her feel good about herself, you pompous, purple party pooping piece of—”
“Prince Gosling!” Hotspur’s barking voice cut into the conversation, and the armored pegasus approached, his steel-shod hooves ringing against the stone tiles of the floor. “Mister Party, leave us at once.”
Purple Party, realising that now was a very good time to make an exit, did so, fleeing from Gosling, who stood there, panting, his sides heaving beneath his cloak. Eyelids twitching, nostrils flaring, his tail whipping from side to side, Gosling watched the stuffy unicorn make a hasty retreat.
“Don’t count on having your job for long, ya schmuck!” Gosling hollered while he stomped a hoof down upon the tile for emphasis. All of his frustration, all of his terror from the other night, all of his anger, his rage, and his fury all became too much to hold in, and the first few tears began to fall while Gosling’s knees banged together.
“Gosling… Goose… ya alright?” Hotspur asked as he moved to Gosling’s side.
“No… no, I am not alright… I’m sick of ponies acting like Luna doesn’t exist or isn’t important… do you know what this does to her?” Gosling, frustrated, realised he couldn’t even wipe his eyes, because doing so would reveal his naked wings. “I am tired of the castle staff treating me as if I wasn’t important. They don’t take me seriously.”
“Yeah, well, yous shouldn’t yell at them.” Hotspur’s armor clanked when he took another step closer to Gosling. “I’ll throw my rank around, and I’ll get some snow-lazy privates to set everything up. Yeah, yeah, that’s a good idea, we bucketheads’ll do this, and it’ll be good for morale. Screw that guy.” With a turn of his head, Hotspur glanced in the direction that Purple Party had retreated.
“Thanks, Hotspur… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“That’s Watch Captain Hotspur, ya mug.” Looking worried, Hotspur nudged Gosling with his wing, and began herding him along. “Come on, let’s get yous someplace private so yous can get sorted out.” The captain placed one wing over his friend’s back, and began leading him away so Gosling could have a much needed private moment.
“Equestria hasn’t celebrated the Winter Moon Festival in over a thousand years,” Gosling said to Hotspur as he was being lead away.
“Yeah, but we has Nightmare Night.” Hotspur shrugged, but kept his wing planted on Gosling’s back. “Things change, Goose.”
“Try to imagine an Equestria without a Summer Sun Festival.”
Hotspur’s gait faltered for a moment, but he recovered. “Point taken, ‘nuff said.”
“Ponies worship Celestia… and I can’t help but feel that a lot of Luna’s problems are because she doesn’t get the worship she needs. She needs restoration, Hotspur. I’m the Confessor of the Pegasus Pony Tribe. Quiet Knish laid a heavy load on my back and I’m breaking beneath it. Sometimes, I can actually feel my spine being crushed. I don’t know how to lead ponies back to Luna and I’m trying everything I can and then assholes like Purple just have to make everything worse!”
At this point, Gosling burst into tears and began weeping. Hotspur moved with new purpose, hustling his friend along, and he pulled Gosling’s hood over his head, hoping to offer whatever privacy he could. When the hood was up, Hotspur wrapped a wing around Gosling’s neck, and pulled him into a sidelong hug while they walked, not caring what the other posted guards might think or say.
Through a pair of tall, wide double doors, the two friends made a hasty exit.
Moving at a swift, majestic canter, Princess Cadance held Flurry Heart above her head and hurried down the hall. Approaching the door, she slowed, spread her wings, crossed her eyes, threw the door open, and made a magnificent entrance that did… absolutely nothing. Flurry giggled a few times, but then stopped.
“Mama?”
Looking up, Cadance saw Flurry looking down at her, and then together, the two of them looked over at Gosling, who was sitting in a chair, looking miserable, while Captain Hotspur stood beside him. Her attempt to cheer Gosling up had been a failure, a bad one, she had bombed. Lowering Flurry a bit, she moved into the room proper, and shut the doors behind her.
“I’ve sort of heard what happened,” Cadance said to Gosling and she dropped Flurry into his embrace. “Here, take one of these and call me in the morning.”
“Hiyas, Mistah Goose!” Flurry beamed, blew an enormous spit bubble, and waggled her ears at Gosling while she got comfortable in his embrace.
Using her magic, Cadance did a lot of things at once. She stoked the fire, added a log, conjured up an entire tea service from the kitchens, set to work making tea, and enchanted a chair, which dutifully came running over on its four legs, so she could sit down. There was no harm in a little showing off, and the sound of Flurry clopping her hooves together with joy was good medicine.
“I am going to help with the Winter Moon Festival.” Cadance folded in her wings, sat down, and made herself comfortable. “I’ve decided to spend Hearth’s Warming here, in Canterlot, with family.”
“What about the Crystal Empire?” Gosling asked.
“Oh, they don’t celebrate Hearth’s Warming, and it means nothing to them. They vanished before it became an event. They just don’t see what the big deal is, and attempts to make it a holiday have been met with lukewarm interest.” Studying Gosling, she didn’t like what she saw, the cracks were showing, and he was looking a little under the weather, understatement though that might be.
Flurry Heart, content to be with her uncle, rested her head against Gosling’s neck and beamed with a smile that was pure sunshine. Gosling, who needed comfort, held her close, and rested his chin atop her head, mindful of her long, sharp horn. Hotspur remained close, and stood rigid, almost as if he was a statue rather than a pony.
“What do you want from a Winter Moon Festival, Gosling?” Cadance asked.
“A Summer Sun Festival at night,” he replied, squeezing Flurry and making her coo.
“Let’s be honest, that’s not going to happen.” Cadance kicked her hind legs a bit until she was comfortable, she tucked her wings a bit more against her sides, and she looked Gosling right in the eye. “But that doesn’t stop us from making an attempt. I think Auntie Luna would be happy with the attempt.”
“I’ve got lazy, good for nuttin’ privates wasting away and waiting out the winter,” Hotspur said. “We can put them to work, and we can even yells at them to make them work harder. We can make ‘em earn their salt.”
Amused, Cadance found herself smiling while she nodded. “Since it is nighttime, and dark, I say we set up a fireworks display so big that they’ll see it in Ponyville. I can see it now… we’ll wait until the moon reaches the highest point in the sky, and then we’ll light everything up with fireworks.”
“Can we fire cannons?” Gosling asked with a hopeful, pleading look. “Just blanks…”
“Hmm.” Cadance began rubbing her chin with one wing, wondering what she could get away with. Only Celestia could approve such a thing, but Cadance was confident that she could wheedle permission from her aunt. “I think we’ll be able to fire cannons. Let me get back to you on that.”
“Can we shoot Purple Party out of a cannon?” Gosling looked even more hopeful.
“Again, let me get back to you on that,” Cadance replied, fighting to keep from smiling too hard. With her magic, she began pouring tea and making everything perfect. Her smile became a frown when she thought about how Gosling was going to hold his teacup, he was going to have to put Flurry down, and he was clumsy with his hooves. For a brief, terrible moment, Cadance felt guilty that she had been unable to restore Gosling’s feathers or fill in his many bald patches.
Her healing, as powerful as it might be, had limits.
There was a sniff from Gosling, and that snapped Cadance back to attention just in time to see him sniffing Flurry’s mane. Little Flurry was blowing yet another spit bubble, a big one, and even though she would never, ever admit it, Cadance was proud of just how large a spit bubble her daughter could blow. She was almost as good as her father. In time, she might even surpass his spit bubble blowing mastery.
“All this pressure, it’s getting to me again,” Gosling said, his moving lips causing Flurry’s ears to flicker. “I need help. I shouldn’t have yelled at Purple and now I feel guilty and bad. Nopony takes me seriously, they treat me like I’m some colt or something. And the papers, the papers are really, really getting mean and they rip apart everything I do or try to accomplish. I can’t seem to win.”
Cadance heard Gosling sniffle a bit, and he lifted his head up to look at her.
“When I went to visit those foals in the Weeping Sister Hospital, the papers wanted to know why I hadn’t gone and visited our wounded soldiers instead. When I went and visited the wounded soldiers, the papers got snippy and wanted to know why I was spending all of my time being a public prettyboy and not getting any real work done. When I work and don’t show my face for a few days, they want to know why I hate the public so much that I can’t come out of the castle… I’m tired of it, Cadance… I’m sick of it. I feel like I’m going to go off on somepony and Mister Purple Putz, he just… he almost pushed me right over the edge.”
“Purple Putz!” Flurry blurted out, her spit bubble popping, leaving Gosling’s neck slick and shiny with drool.
A maternal scowl appeared on Cadance’s muzzle for an eyeblink, then was gone. She let this one slip, and she didn’t feel the need to scold Gosling or Flurry, not with Gosling’s current state of mind. Sitting in her chair, she tried to think of the best way to help Gosling deal with his current predicament, this rough state of affairs.
This was something best solved over steaming cups of tea.