//------------------------------// // Chapter 16 // Story: Down With the Pastryarchy // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// The hot flashes were becoming quite unbearable and for Twilight, it felt as though she was getting some kind of heat rash beneath her wings. She was a princess with no guards, no wall of armor keeping the public away from her. Of course, the guards really didn’t protect the princesses, no. It was the other way around: the guards protected the public from the princesses in the event that somepony was stupid enough to put everypony at risk by forcing the princesses to defend themselves. Twilight had some rather intense mixed feelings about guards in general. She was the Public Princess, the accessible princess that wasn’t surrounded at all times by clanking steel. Or in the case of Princess Cadance, only one guard was needed—Dim. Somehow, Dim was worse than a whole cadre of guards and he caused Cadance to be downright unapproachable. Of course, Dim also granted a certain level of freedom to Skyla and Flurry that they might not have otherwise. Twilight wondered, what if she had foals? Who would keep them safe? Would they be free to play and frolic? Even as she entertained the question in her mind, she already knew the truth. The Royal Brood lived in a fortified military complex, a place surrounded by guards and warded with magical protections—yet, there had been incidents. There had been attempts. There had even been attempts on Skyla and Flurry—and Dim had thwarted those on multiple occasions. War had changed the Kommissar and one disturbed his calm at their peril. Perhaps settling down to start a family was a complication that she didn’t need right now in her life. Her authority had just been expanded, to what degree she was uncertain. There was her school to run, a sorcerer to keep up with, Trixie Lulamoon’s intriguing idea of reviving the Clock Face Fiefdoms, and the occasional kerfuffle with Grogar’s forces of evil when they decided to drop in for tea unannounced. Twilight was a busy princess who hardly even had time to maintain her friendships, as evidenced by her friends growing further and further apart as the years passed. Yet another tendril of chaos encircled her heart and gave it a cruel squeeze. “Princess?” Twilight’s ears pricked at the sound of the somewhat lispy voice coming from behind her. She turned about, mindful of her size and the fact that the voice had traveled up to her ears. Her hooves made solid thumps against the catwalk and she angled her head to look down. “Smart Cookie, don’t bother the princess!” Flexing her legs, Twilight extended her wing, kneeled down a bit, and pulled little Smart Cookie closer, which caused the nearby mare—presumably his mother—to make whinnies of distress. The earth pony colt was little, stout, a tiny little keg with legs that looked up at her with wide, worshipful eyes. “Hi there,” Twilight said to the colt. “What’s your name?” “Call me Smarty,” the colt replied. “My Mum-Mum only uses my whole name when she’s freakin’ out.” “You sound smart.” Twilight cast a quick glance at the mare who was prancing in place. “How old are you, Smarty?” “Six.” It was a tiny six, a really teeny tiny six by Twilight’s estimation. “My daddies have me read your reading list so I’ll grow up smart.” “Daddies?” It was an odd detail to seize upon, but seize upon it Twilight did. “My husbands,” the earth pony mare said, skittish, and she drew closer. “One of them is gay. The other is a little less gay. They wanted a family. I met them for the first time on the day I married them. It was one of those big come one, come all mass weddings that Princess Cadance throws. They wanted a family and I was itching to settle down, and so we reached an agreement.” “I’m not one to judge.” Twilight smiled, trying to put the nervous mare at ease. “But others do… judge. I was rather young when we married. Really young, actually. But I knew what I wanted in life. Ponies talked. Ponies wouldn’t shut up, actually. A young filly in the presence of two much older confirmed bachelors. Awful things were said.” The mare hesitated to move closer, and continued to shuffle-step in place. “Ponies keep telling me I need to take my son and leave.” Twilight felt an apology was in order and she summoned up her heartfelt sincerity. “I’m sorry. Sounds like it’s been difficult for you. Do try to calm down though.” “I couldn’t think of a better place for a filly my age to be,” the mare said, continuing to express herself in a nervous, halting manner. “They were good to me. Treated me like I was their princess. After the wedding, I felt safe enough to go home with them. They gave me a wonderful life and I gave them Smart Cookie.” “Smarty, do you love your dads?” Twilight asked. The colt nodded. “Do you like having extra parents?” Again, the colt nodded. “They do voices when it is story time before bed.” “They’re voice actors in the film industry,” the mare said, explaining what her son had said. “My name is Apricot Sandie.” At long last, the mare relaxed with a final nervous huff. “My son has always wanted to meet you.” “Is that so, Smart Cookie?” Reaching out, Twilight gave him a tickle with her wing and delighted in the sound of the colt’s laughter. Feeling emboldened, she lifted him with her magic and brought him up so she could see him eye to eye. So far, everything was okay, and there seemed to be no visible distress from being picked up. “You beat up the bad guys,” said the colt in a matter-of-fact way. “Kerpow!” Fighting back a smile, Twilight nodded. “I sure do.” “Mum-Mum says that monsters are trying to stop the bake-off and make the good things go away. Are you gonna save us?” The bold, fearless colt looked Twilight right in the eye. “A good kerpow or two should set things right. Like Daring Do and Crown Agent Cocoa! Smash face!” At a loss for words, Twilight didn’t know what to say. Troubled, Twilight thought of Skyreach—four friends, impossible odds, and hatred given life. How would Tarnish deal with Bourgogne Blintz? Not kindly. Mooks, contract killers, foalnappers, and tribalists… these were the things that set Mister Teapot off. Or worse, caused him to slip into one of his violent states of denial, where he repeatedly shouted, “NO!” while smashing stuff to bits. Which somehow made a diplomatic approach all the more important: the world was filled with violent reactions. “I wish it was as simple as picking a fight.” Twilight, unsure of how to express herself, faced the daunting task of having to explain this to one so young. Glancing at Apricot Sandie, she saw worry and fear in her eyes. “You can’t save us?” Smart Cookie looked more confused than sad. “But you’re a princess.” “As a princess, I have to be careful that I don’t hurt others when I’m saving somepony. It means I have to be careful. Cautious.” Twilight’s ears fell. She made it a point to be everypony’s friend—she was the Princess of Friendship, after all—and she had made it a point to remain as neutral as possible so she could always be a mediator. More than that, she didn’t want to offend anypony. It was hard to be friends with a pony you’ve offended. So other than her stance regarding rotten reporters, she kept a guarded, inoffensive position so she would remain liked. Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Princess Cadance, Prince Gosling, Prince Dim, Prince Shining Armor, Prince Blueblood; the Royals, by and large, were plagued with scandal and buffeted from all sides by an angry public. Twilight, for the most part, remained popular and scandal free, but she made it a point to avoid causing trouble. Gosling’s policy was such that he avoided most adults outright and focused upon foals, like Smart Cookie. Twilight could see the wisdom in such a policy. She studied the small light brown colt with dark reddish-brown speckles. He would grow to be handsome. His mother was a bit more orange than reddish-brown. “I want to fix things,” Twilight said to the colt, “but I’m not sure how. I want to make things fair, because things aren’t fair, but I somehow have to make things fair for everypony. I don’t want anypony hurt, because that would hurt me.” “Sometimes, my daddies fight.” The colt’s wide eyes cast a sidelong glance in his mother's direction. “Mum-Mum threatens them with timeout.” “Does that work?” In response, the colt nodded. “She makes them talk and reminds them that we’re family.” “I think they’re about to start the run, Smarty. Don’t you want to watch?” Apricot Sandie took a bold step closer. “Thank you for being patient and kind to my son. He’s very outgoing.” With a half nod, Twilight placed the colt upon his mother’s back, and then, reaching out her wing, she touched him one last time. It all seemed so simple for him, and she envied his uncomplicated existence. Monsters were things that one pummeled into submission—and not something that one lived in fear of offending. What would strong, bold action accomplish? “Keep reading,” Twilight said to Smart Cookie. “On my birthday, I get a new reading list!” The colt buried his face into his mother’s mane and clung to her neck. “Goodbye!” Twilight wing-waved and she watched, somewhat dismayed, as Apricot Sandie took this opportunity to depart. It wasn’t like she had answers, or a lot to say, but having the little colt around was nice—comforting somehow. “Heya, Dollface!” The familiar voice almost caused Twilight to jump out of her skin. “I have so many stories.” Seville’s grin was extra-wide beneath his green fedora. “I ran out of recording rods. Need to go up to our room to stash the ones I’m carrying.” At the mention of recording rods, Twilight was reminded of Skyreach. The crystalline rods held voices from the past, reminders of dark times. Vinyl Scratch had revived the old technology and now, Seville used them to make his work as a reporter easier. He could record conversations, a true boon for an earth pony reporter. Though gone, the dreadful legacy of Skyreach remained. “Dollface? You okay? You got that faraway look on your pretty face.” “I’m sorry…” “You look shook up, beautiful.” “I am shook up, ya mug.” “Hey, what’s the big idea… why I oughta... ” Though she wanted to be solemn and serious, Twilight could not help but smile. “Pinks and Jackie are about to make their run. Jackie is gonna be running point, I think. She’ll clear a path for Pinks and the cart. It’s gonna be rough down there.” Seville. Careful, cautious, plodding Seville. Gosling’s Fluttershy, except he wasn’t quite the Fluttershy of reporters. No, he was more Applejack when it came to reporting, brutal honesty and tenacity. Then again, there were some elements of Fluttershy in that—when riled, Flutters was incredibly dangerous. Here she was again trying to sort somepony into a role she understood and was familiar with. “You’ll be a Doctor of Journalism soon,” she remarked. “I woulda had it by now if I was a unicorn,” he replied. “Takes me forever to get anything done. I just have to work a little harder and I’ll have it.” “There’s been some interruptions.” Twilight pulled one of Seville’s bags from his neck and slung it over her own. The immense weight was hardly noticeable and she allowed it to settle into a comfortable position against the bulk of her barrel. “I’ve been one of them. The war has slowed down your work.” “The war has given me something to work with.” Seville’s grin transformed into a tight, drawn line when his lips pressed together while he stood there, thinking. After a short time, he continued, “Wars make or break reporters. Some of us rise to prominence while the war rages, but then history looks unfavourably upon us for being shills. Others remain unpopular voices, but history smiles upon us. That’s my goal… I want history to remember me. I’m playin’ the long game.” Twilight thought back to what Seville said on the train. “What if history remembered you as my husband?” Twilight asked of her companion. “Would that count? Would that satisfy you?” “That depends.” Seville looked Twilight in the eye for a moment, and then turned his attention to the scene unfolding beneath him as the contestants lined up. “All the more reason to finish my doctoral work. If I’m going to be remembered as your husband, I want to be remembered the right way… being remembered as the magnificent, rakishly handsome stud who kept your bed warm isn’t appealing to me.” Twilight snorted out a mighty blast that blew Seville’s hat crooked. “Hey, what’s the big idea?” The stoic earth pony did nothing to fix his hat. “Seville, I feel stuck.” “Welcome to Skidsville, Dollface.” “I don’t see a way of trying to fix this problem without creating more problems. It’s daunting, Seville. I’m really frustrated right now. Since I know the problem exists, I can’t turn away, but I also can’t face it head on… because I don’t know how. Ponies want something from me, and I’m not sure I can give it to them. I don’t know how to make things better without making them worse.” “Dame, it’s a rough world. Welcome to being the rest of us.” “I’m the only royal who isn’t surrounded on all sides by scandal and outrage. I have the highest approval ratings and everything. I am Equestria’s most liked princess. I’m the most popular princess… and I think that’s a problem. I’m so busy trying to be everypony’s friend. I don’t rock the boat. I don’t make waves. I am paralysed by the very idea of everypony suddenly hating me.” “Celestia is still dealing with the fallout of seizing strategic assets during the Mariner Incident.” Seville sighed, a weary sound. “She said the anger would die out in a generation or three. For now though, her approval rating and general satisfaction score are in the toilet. Although… for those who do support her, her approval has never been higher since they started tracking these numbers. The old bird still has loyal followers, of which I am one.” When Seville brushed up against her, Twilight nickered and then allowed herself to remain pressed against him, making no effort to pull away. They had started as friends; Gosling somehow wrangled them into dancing. There was some awkwardness there in the beginning, because Twilight was already a mature mare and Seville was an innocent, wide-eyed, idealistic colt fresh off the farm. Seville grew into the stallion he was now, a bastion of truth and Equestrian ideals, and Twilight had watched him grow. Twilight wondered if Seville became all that he was just to impress her. “I try to remain likable, if I can. As a reporter, I have to. I need ponies to talk to me if I want to have a job. But there have been moments when I’ve had to take a stand. Do what was right. And because of that, I’ve made ponies angry. I’ve made Celestia angry, I’ve had Luna furious with me, Cadance and Shining Armor were a bit miffed with me for a while… and there was the incident where I held Blueblood’s hooves to the fire. I had to do it though. Blue was cracking down on bureaucrats that did nothing, but he was being too lenient on those who had courted his favour. He thanked me for it later, but he was still pretty mad for a time.” “You’ve even made me angry,” Twilight said, knowing that Seville would appreciate her honesty. “I know, and I still feel pretty bad about that. You had it coming, dragging your hooves like that.” “I wasn’t dragging my hooves,” Twilight retorted, annoyed. “I was taking a cautious approach.” A deep resonating wicker could be heard in Seville’s barrel. “Look, I wasn’t dragging my hooves. I was trying to learn more about the issue before committing to reform. The reading material was just awful.” Twilight did not like the look that Seville was giving her, not at all, and it was at this moment that she knew why she valued his friendship: he would always hold her accountable. “Here we go,” Seville announced. “They’re starting!”