//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 // Story: The Perilous Gestation of Swans // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Princess Celestia strode down the hallway, and the caravan followed. Following her just off of her left, what she felt was her ‘good side,’ was Seville Orange, wearing a body mount that held a motion picture camera. Behind them was most of the Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns Audio Visual Club. Students of all ages and sizes, ranging from those who were about to graduate with degrees to those just starting their academic career tagged along, some carrying film, others carried bags with gear, tripods, everything that was needed. They were getting good hooves on experience, which Princess Celestia prized. She felt her students learned best by doing. As an extra added bonus, working as a porter to haul around heavy gear also counted as physical education credits, which was just what these nerdy little eggheads needed. Stopping near a drinking fountain, Princess Celestia turned to face the camera with a broad, beaming smile upon her face, and she gave her well practiced speech that she spent all of two minutes practicing. “We’re always pioneering new methods of teaching here at my school for gifted unicorns, because this is more than a school, it is a social laboratory and fertile ground for change. The new methods we develop here get sorted out and refined. The things that work undergo meticulous peer review and then are tested in other schools all across Equestria. We lead the way and we provide the foundation for the future of education.” Her warm, beaming smile intensified, until it seemed like the sun was shining indoors. “Of particular concern for parents and the gracious nobles of Canterlot, approximately sixty percent or so of our students find the pony that they are truly in love with and will spend the rest of their lives with here in my school for gifted unicorns. I understand that these are anxious times, trying times, but certain values never fade, go out of style, or pass away. Here at my school for gifted unicorns, we focus upon the values and the relationships that will secure our future.” Lifting his hoof, Seville made a cutting motion to let Celestia know that he was done filming, and Celestia heaved an enormous sigh of relief. Several of the students began snickering, a few laughed, and after a moment, Celestia joined them, though a far more restrained smile was upon her face. “So corny,” Celestia said, and her students laughed even more. “But true,” a filly on the cusp of adolescence replied. “My mother sent me here with the hopes I would find my future husband. She’s going to be really disappointed though, I think.” A nearby colt began to chortle, and his face turned red. “Because you keep kissing fillies.” “Yep.” A manic gleam could be seen in the filly’s eyes, and her sides heaved when she brayed with laughter. With a gentle look in her eye, Celestia gave the filly a nod, and then she looked at all of her students, the entire caravan of shutterbugs. “Sometimes, we have to tell parents one thing while we do another. Your teachers and I, we work very, very hard to create a safe, nurturing environment for all of you. There are times when parents are a little too caught up in the values of the past, and are unwilling to adapt or change to deal with the future. While you should always love and respect your parents, it is important to keep an open mind and think for yourselves. Do you understand?” “Yes, Princess Celestia,” Most of the students said in unison. “All of you are part of a brave new future, one where we focus on individualism.” Celestia’s voice was soft now, calm, and she was pleased to see little ears straining to listen. “Princess Twilight Sparkle and I both are conducting studies on programs that will produce exceptional individuals that can and will think for themselves. Hopefully, this will be part of the solution for the stagnation that our society faces.” “Because we need change,” a tiny colt said. “Yes, because we need change.” Celestia smiled at the colt and her ears perked when she heard his bashful, adoring squeak. “Now, class, can you tell me, what are the three tenets for emancipation from our current, stagnated ways?” Again, the class responded as one: “The rise of individuality, the courage to resist fear, and the open-mindedness to accept new ideas.” “Very good.” Celestia gave her students a nod. “I’m so very proud of all of you. Come, little ones. There is much to do and much to accomplish with the time that we have left. Hurry along, little ones, and follow me.” Little Moon Rose wasn’t any different than an average foal, she had all of the same wants and needs, hopes and fears, all of the fragileness a filly her age was bound to have. Gosling pitied her for her plight, having such an extraordinary talent of exceptional ability. Standing near a window, Gosling watched as Flurry Heart and Moon Rose played together. His mother was having a quiet conversation with Hazy Breeze and Soprano Summer while the two foals played. He was uncomfortable with the idea that she was an asset, but he understood the necessity. Like Sumac and the other ‘assets,’ she was a potential weapon, and potential weapons could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hooves. Or claws, or tentacles, or whatever. Lots of foals grew up as assets, but some slipped through the cracks. Twilight Sparkle, who had a talent for magic, had grown up as an asset, a protected, sheltered asset. But Starlight Glimmer, who also had a talent for magic, she had not. Starlight, left unattended, had almost been the end of Equestria. The exact details were still unknown, only Twilight knew all of the relevant facts, and Twilight wasn’t talking due to the arrangement between her and Starlight. Gosling wasn’t sure he liked the arrangement and was of the opinion that the Wardens should drag every single one of Starlight’s secrets out of the folds of her grey matter. Or maybe they had, and he hadn’t been told. He did, however, keep his opinions to himself, and a part of him respected the arrangement that Twilight had made, that of a promise kept in exchange for a lifetime of servitude and restitution. So far, Starlight was holding up her end of the bargain, and she had made herself an indispensable part of Equestria’s defense. Moon Rose, sweet though she might be, could grow up to become a terror, and Gosling didn’t know how fair it was, how moral it was, or how ethical it was to interfere in her life. This was a part of leadership that he wasn’t comfortable with. Magic made things difficult, if not impossible. There was very little in the way of checks and balances for magic, though improvements were being made. Unable to reconcile his own feelings about magic, Gosling instead chose to focus on the things he could understand and comprehend, like learning how to run the city of Canterlot. With a turn of his head, he glanced out the window upon his beloved city, and it was his city. He loved it, he adored it, and he was now a slave to its many imposing needs. “You look thoughtful, Gosling.” His mother’s words startled him, Gosling hadn’t been expecting to hear his name, and he let out a low, startled whinny. Ears pricking, standing straight up, Gosling turned his head to look at his mother and said, “I was just thinking about my city.” “That’s quite a thing to say, Gosling, that you have a city.” Sleet gave her son a half-smile. “This is the heart of Equestria.” While speaking, Gosling’s face became solemn, and his eyes narrowed into a focused, almost predatory stare. “So long as the heart stays healthy, the body lives and prospers. It’s a big responsibility and I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just glad I have good teachers.” “That’s a hard lesson,” Sleet said while both Hazy and Soprano focused their attention upon Gosling. “Especially for a colt your age. Colts your age think they know everything and listen to nopony.” “If I were to do something that stupid, millions and millions of lives will suffer for my mistakes.” Gosling could feel the weight of his crown even though his head was bare. “The entire world would suffer for my stupidity. It scares me, Ma, that I might make a mistake that causes misery on a scale I still have trouble understanding.” “The fall of King Roan.” Sleet shook her head and her vivid blue eyes looked sad. It was a story that Gosling knew all too well, and his mother had told him many, many times before bed. It was a cornerstone of his First Tribes heritage, the folly and danger of turning the magical age of fourteen and having your bit mitzvah. A long, long time ago, King Roan had celebrated his fourteenth birthday, had his bit mitzvah, and was crowned king. Seven days later, he was dead, and his kingdom was embroiled in a terrible war that lasted for almost a full century, or so the story went. Upon reaching adulthood, that magical age of fourteen, King Roan had decided that he knew everything there was to know, and he ruled with an iron hoof. For a total of seven whole days. To try and quell the chaos and the violence, his own mother had poisoned him, and she herself as well as penance for what she had wrought upon the world. Turning about, Gosling walked away from the window, and went over to where the two fillies sat playing together on the floor. He sat down, shifted a bit, then laid down on the soft, fuzzy rug, and in no time at all, he had situated himself in the pony-loaf position, secure beneath his cloak. “Come, gather round little ones, and let me tell you the story about the fall of King Roan…” Lunch was a welcome time, a celebrated time, and for Gosling, it was the first time he had seen Celestia this day. She was a little late, but nopony faulted her, and she made a graceful entrance. Lifting his head, he gave his wife a hopeful look, and Gosling’s eyes were eager as they looked upon the white alicorn. The regal princess crossed the room, bringing light and warmth with her, as though she was a living sunlamp. She came to where Gosling sat in his chair, halted, and wrapped her wings around the two of them to form a small private space where she could greet him properly, and she did. Oh goodness, how she did. Gosling leaned into the kiss with all of the enthusiasm that a colt his age could muster, and even remembered to angle his head off to one side. Inside the fortress of Celestia’s wings, the air grew hot, humid, a summer's day in miniature. The one twinge of bitterness to the kiss was the fact that Gosling kept his own wings tucked to his sides, as he did not dare touch his princess with his wings in their current naked, hideous state. But, oh how he longed to touch her, to spend time with her, to preen and pluck with her. “Slurpy kisses,” Flurry Heart said to everypony present at the table. “Yucko.” “Flurry, hush.” Sleet reached out with her wing and gave the foal a tickle, making her laugh. “It sounds like somepony traipsing through a bog!” Blueblood said with all of his usual dry, cutting snark. “Really, some of us are hungry and have a schedule to keep!” To silence Blueblood, Raven leaned over and kissed him, but it was a somewhat modest kiss, as Raven lacked wings to create a privacy barrier. Flurry watched for a moment, as did Moon Rose, and after a few seconds, little Flurry turned away with her tongue sticking out, much to the amusement of her mother, Cadance. Shining Armor, not a shy pony, leaned over, grabbed Cadance, and got in on the lunchtime smoochy-smoochy action. Cadance, surprised, let out a muffled squeal of protest, but then warmed to the idea, so much so that she became the aggressor. Cadance raised her wings so they could have a moment of privacy to themselves, and giggling could be heard from behind them. At the far end of the table, Soprano looked hesitant but hopeful, and then in a moment of sheer nerve, he grabbed the much smaller pegasus beside him, and before Hazy could respond in any meaningful manner, Soprano kissed him—no little peck, no chaste touching of the lips, but a passionate, affectionate lip-lock. Nopony batted an eye—nopony cared. Not one disparaging eyebrow was raised, there was no snarky comment, no mean spirited barbs, nothing. Laughing with relief, Hazy raised his own wings, but did little to hide the ‘slurpy kiss’ that happened, and the two stallions were free to be themselves, without fear, without shame, without repercussions for their actions. Moon Rose, who sat watching the ponies that she called her mother and her father, let out a happy sigh, thankful for the moment of acceptance and tolerance. Being a good filly, she sat with her front hooves resting on the edge of the table, with good posture as was befitting any proper Canterlot filly, and she waited for lunch to be served.