//------------------------------// // Chapter 19 // Story: The Perilous Gestation of Swans // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// What marvellous places she must go, Gosling thought as he watched his magnificent white mare recline in graceful repose. Celestia had taken a different form of flight, leaving her physical body somewhat vulnerable. Oh, not that she was vulnerable, being an immortal alicorn, but she could still have things like mustaches drawn on her muzzle and what not. Something Gosling would never do, as the trust he had established was far too important to squander. He understood the importance of these trips, her flights into the astral plane. Sometimes, they lasted for mere seconds; other times, hours. Time flowed in odd ways, obeying different rules in other realms. In these helpless, defenseless states, she was at her most beautiful, and her majesty was a wonder to behold. Gosling allowed his eyes to linger upon every inch that he could view, and when her eyelids fluttered, his ears perked with interest. The room was warm, but not from the inferno contained in the fireplace, no. In her current state, Celestia radiated heat. It came off of her in waves, and being near her was like standing in the summer sun. Sometimes, like now, her body was surrounded in a nimbus of fire that did not burn; at other times, she looked as though she was asleep, with no outward visible signs of her departure. Gosling very much wanted to rub his body up against hers and revel in her toasty warmth. “Grrrr, be a good puppy,” Celestia murmured, her fuzzy lips brushing against one another. One of Gosling’s eyebrows raised in a classical quizzical expression. He wasn’t aware of who or what Grrrr was, but Celestia growled his name from time to time. Whatever it was, it was playful. After a moment, Gosling turned away from Celestia and focused his attention upon her golden shoes, her crown, and her regalia, all of which had been tossed into a careless pile upon the floor. It was a well-acknowledged fact of life that Gosling was still young enough to be more curious than was wise, as most colts tended to be. By pegasus standards, he was an annoyance, or if one wanted to be flattering, adventurous. By earth pony standards, he was a hazard, and by unicorn standards, he was almost scholarly. There were things that Gosling just had to know. Like… what it felt like to be a princess. He had never managed to work up the nerve before, but perhaps… perhaps today might be the day. Gosling was almost certain that Celestia would not punish him—she might even laugh at him. Still, her symbols of office demanded respect, and he was torn between doing what was right, and what was fun. His Sunshine had long, slender legs, but she had big hooves, and she was sensitive about that. He knew that she fretted sometimes about her physical appearance, bemoaning her big hooves and her dock, which she felt was far too chubby. Her dock was chubby, but he liked it that way, it was far more pleasant to nibble on, to pinch with his teeth, or tease with his lips. Really, what stallion wanted to sample a bony dock? It was like eating a carrot gone wooden. Mares worried too much about their docks, doing silly, sexy tail-lift exercises in the mirror to keep them presentable. Overcome with temptation, Gosling decided that today would in fact, be the day. With a faint, worried whinny, he went over to where Celestia discarded her stuff and sat down. It took a little effort—he had to use his fetlocks—but he managed to slip the regalia over his head and slide it down his neck. Next, he put the crown on his head, adjusted it a bit, and then stood up. Once on all fours, he stepped into each one of the shoes, which clicked into place with clever latches. “Oh, hey, I’m a pretty birdy,” Gosling said to himself while he studied his own hooves, now shod in gold. “Yeah… who’s a pretty birdy? That’s right… me. Look at that, I’m a pretty birdy.” He took a few steps, then walked around in a circle, prancing with high parade steps. Full of himself, he snorted a few times, shook his head, wickered, and then continued to strut his stuff. As he turned around, he noticed for the first time that there were two wide-eyed two alicorn princesses standing in the doorway—one pink, one blue—staring at him. This was not the worst thing he had been caught doing, but it sure felt like it. “Hey, ladies, how’s yous doing?” he asked, because, what else could he do at this point? They had walked in, caught him in the act, and he was busted. “You look ridiculous,” Luna deadpanned, and she gave Gosling the sort of stare that only a princess could. Cadance nodded as her cheeks bulged in an odd way. “Gold is a terrible colour on you. It makes you look jaundiced. Wear silver instead.” Luna blinked once, breaking the floodgates, and then blinked many times more. Gosling had frozen mid-step, in pose. “We came to help my aunt.” Cadance’s voice was squeaky, and her sides were heaving like bellows, causing her wings to hitch against the graceful curve of her ribs. “Jealousy does not become you.” Gosling played it straight as his voice somehow remained in perfect, commanding pitch. “Jealousy?” Cadance blinked and her sides heaved even harder. She was almost wheezing now, and she was engaged in a mighty struggle to keep a straight face. “Jealousy, you say!” “Yeah, I make this look good, and you know it. Recognise, Pink-Pint-Mama.” It was at this point that Cadance lost it, and now the battle was no longer containment, but volume, and she was forced to keep her giggles down to a dull roar. Luna somehow remained straight-faced, but she was showing signs of cracking. With the corners of her mouth trembling, Luna strode forward, took off her crown, and plunked it down on top of Gosling’s noggin, making him twice the princess that she and her sister ever were. “Keep that safe whilst We join Our sister.” Still somehow straight-faced, Luna kicked off her shoes and pulled off her regalia. With a flash of magic, the regalia was teleported around Gosling’s neck; Luna then spent a few seconds adjusting it to hang over her sister’s regalia, all while Cadance was consumed by the giggles. Almost as an afterthought, Luna leaned in and kissed Gosling on the cheek, then whispered, “You are a ridiculous creature. What are We to do with you?” “The only thing that can be done with me,” Gosling responded. “Acknowledge that I’m pretty—” Cadance had to get the last word, and so she did. “Pretty ridiculous. Recognised.” Now late afternoon, Gosling sat in the press room, leaning back in a chair while staring up at the ceiling. Sitting on either side of him, Beans and Toast were waiting to be useful, with Seville facing the trio from across the messy, paper-strewn table. Blueblood and Shining Armor were also present, with Blueblood pacing and Shining Armor sitting, not at the table, but rather in a high backed chair in the corner. “There’s been more crimes against the changelings,” Blueblood said in a low voice, and Shining Armor squirmed in his chair. “Like it or not, the changelings are Equestrian citizens now, and many have become military assets. We owe it to them to treat them with dignity and respect.” Gosling did not respond, but continued staring up at the ceiling, not having an answer. He thought about Chrysalis and the extreme protection she required. She wasn’t so much a changeling queen as she was a living, moving batch of magical ingredients, just waiting to be harvested by unsavoury individuals. “How we treat our conquered enemies says a lot about us,” Seville stated in a soft voice. “Can we even call them conquered enemies? Many of them were victims of Queen Chrysalis’ tyranny. What choice did they have? Now that they’ve been freed from her control, we see that many changelings are good and decent folk.” Shining Armor snorted in disgust, which made Blueblood turn to look at him. Gosling was still staring at the ceiling, and Seville was looking at a stack of papers in front of him. Beans began folding up a piece of paper so that he could practice for his origami school assignment, while his sister, Toast, pulled her embroidery hoop out of her bag to keep herself occupied. “If we punish Equestrian citizens for this and bring the full weight of the law against them, there will be even more civil unrest.” Shining Armor chewed on his lip for a second, then continued, “I’m not saying that we shouldn’t punish them, I’m just saying that we shouldn’t throw the book at them.” “So, then, Shining, are they to be second-class citizens who do not have the full rights and protections as say, an Equestrian pony? A donkey? A burro?” Blueblood’s voice was flat, emotionless, but his eyes were flinty and narrowed. “I’m not saying that,” Shining retorted, shaking his head. “I’m just saying that we need to be real careful that we do not set off more riots. Our cities can only burn so much and everything is so precarious right now.” Angling his head down, Gosling’s ears pivoted forwards. “I don’t like the sounds of this… justification. Ponies are going to riot, that’s just how it is, and the riots are going to continue for quite some time. This is not a means of justification or an excuse for us to discriminate against a minority group of our citizens. If the law is broken and a crime is done in hate, we need to crack down and bust some skulls.” Blueblood turned to face his contemporary and fellow unicorn prince. “Look, Shining, I understand how uncomfortable you are with this—” “You’re alicorn-damned right I’m uncomfortable with this!” Shining bellowed, and things on the table rattled from the force of his voice. “Shining Armor,” Blueblood said in a stern voice, “you are a better pony than this.” “I know I am, and right now I’m feeling really disappointed with myself!” Shining Armor shook his head and his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m so angry I can’t stand it! Angry with what Chrysalis did to me… to everypony! And I’m angry with myself, because I can’t seem to be impartial, and Cadance is pissed off at me, and I’m pissed off with her, because I know she harbours some of her own ill-will, she just hides it better, and she’s better at being diplomatic about this whole mess than I am, and sometimes I just HATE how perfect she is, with her breathing exercises and her calm exteriour and her ability to act as though everything is okay even when it isn’t!” Opening his eyes, Shining Armor sat there in his chair, panting, and then he blinked a few times in anger. Blueblood turned, glanced at the twins, shivered, and turned away. Meanwhile, Seville was hunched over the table, writing something down on a notepad, doing it the old-fashioned way, with a pen held in his lips. Gosling watched him for a time, then looked at Shining, trying to understand the stallion’s pain. He sympathised with Shining Armor, but he also held him to a higher standard, as Shining was part of the Alicorns’ Husbands Club. It was a rare, exclusive club, and they were still arguing over the shirt designs. Unicorns needed shirts with durable, well-made collars, for obvious reasons, while Gosling found such collars far too restrictive. Being in the Club meant that one had to be held to an impossible standard. “Trying to keep things fair for minorities has proven near-impossible,” Blueblood said in a low voice as he paced in an aggressive manner, going back and forth, to and fro. “Give them preferential treatment; the majority grows resentful and hates them. Try to offer them protection, and the majority grows resentful and wonders where their protection is, even though they don’t need it. It seems as though any attempt to level the playing field and keep everything fair is met with gross hatred and belligerence. I have yet to find some means of trying to make things right without offending or upsetting some other group.” “Try being a poor, First Tribes pegasus pony in Manehattan, and then you get back to me about majorities and minorities.” Gosling’s head made a curt nod, his lip curled back from his teeth. His anger wasn’t directed at Blueblood, Gosling was just angry in general. “Imagine being an Equestrian pony that was somehow not part of the majority, but was looked at and treated like he was one of the outsiders, you know, the ones that live in the tenement down the street, where everything smells funky and the food has that funny, foreign, spicy stink that everypony complains about.” Blueblood’s eyebrow lifted. “Now, imagine that one of those minorities, they get special opportunities, special chances, they get a little extra preferential treatment—that’s good, right? They’re poor, they need it, a little helping hoof now and then keeps everything fair and balanced.” Gosling began tapping his hoof on the table, and his eyes were little more than narrowed slits. “Now, back to that poor First Tribes pegasus, and imagine how unfair it feels to him that him and his Ma can’t get no kind of help from nopony, because, hey, pegasus ponies, the privileged majority. No help needed, right?” “Cor, that sums up the problem right there, don’t it?” Toast looked up from her embroidery and looked around. “Summons up the plight of the common pony quite well, it does. Back home, nopony gets anything, and we’re all left to flounder on our own. They don’t even try to make things fair. You’re born into a class and you’ll probably die in that class. If you try to rise up, they’ll beat you down. If they see you falling, they’ll give you a shove to help you out. Toodle-oo and all that.” “It’s about the only thing you can count on.” Beans placed a paper crane down upon the table and squirmed in his seat a bit. “As soon as you’re born—” “They make you feel small…”—Toast picked up on her twin’s sentence—“by giving you no time—” “Instead of it all”—Beans continued where his sister left off—“‘til the pain is so big you feel nothing at all.” In his chair, Shining Armor was frowning while rubbing his chin. He remained silent, but was thoughtful. Blueblood continued his pacing. Seville studied the twins; the pen hanging out of his mouth. Gosling looked sullen, out of sorts, and a bit cranky, a far cry from his earlier mood. It was Shining Armor that broke the silence. “If we can’t find a way to level the playing field and make things fair, perhaps the best we can do is punish them all by the same standard. Perhaps equality will only be found in the justice we dispense. Maybe that is all our citizens will have to look forward to, is that punishment is meted out in fair and equal measure.”