//------------------------------// // Chapter 29 // Story: Down With the Pastryarchy // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Twilight’s attention was held by a wood and brass trophy shaped like a wedding cake. Pinkie Pie had won best wedding cake in show. The sound of the air conditioning and the running water in the fountain muffled the other ambient sounds, such as the airship blasting past just outside the window. The Princess Suite was empty, save for Twilight, because she needed a bit of time to herself before heading back down stairs. She was in desperate need of another shower and a bit of breathing room—some time to collect her thoughts. Pinkie was just getting started on her final baking project, and Twilight intended to be there for her—but she just needed a little bit of time alone. This bake-off had brought much to a head and Twilight’s own anxieties were getting the best of her. The pressure was growing and Twilight was a mare in need of release. Biting her lip, Twilight stared at her distorted reflection in the brass. The problem with intimacy, as she saw it, was the complications. Decisions. All of the factors. But what if all of that was taken away? What if she passed off all of these complications to her potential partners? She thought about what Bundt had said, about being a natural sub, and these words lingered in Twilight’s mind, unwilling to depart. Letting go would be hard, but surely the reward—the payoff—would be worth it. There was a certain appeal in just letting Seville take over… or Pinkie. It would mean trusting them; trusting them in complex, thought provoking ways. She would have to trust them to attend to her needs, and not just their own. Twilight had enough on her withers and her spine was bowed with the pressures of rule. Her neck ached with the weight of the crown. With her four sturdy legs, she carried a nation—no, the world—and compared to these things, intimacy decisions seemed so trivial. Being a good leader meant delegating certain tasks to others—and then letting go so they could do them. A chance to turn off her brain and just have things happen. Biting down upon her lip even harder, Twilight felt her thigh muscles go taut and her dock quivered while drawing her tail up into a suggestive—perhaps even saucy—flagged position. It would be like going to the spa and having Aloe and Lotus take charge, but better. Warmth blossomed through her guts; not the hot, painful heat of anxiety, but the toasty, pleasurable bliss of desire. After so much time spent in the clutches of anxious worry, this was as blissful as slowly slipping into a hot bubble bath. Seville could be trusted, she decided. She could let him just take over—he could be prince of the bedroom. The decision maker. Depending on what mood struck him, they might conjoin belly to belly and she thought about feeling his reassuring solidness bearing down upon her. She could imagine his grunts of effort, hot snorts against her neck. Or she might be pinned beneath him on her belly, with him sprawled over her back… perhaps even biting her ear to show a little dominance. The feverish, titillating thought was breathtaking and arousing like nothing else. To have her needs looked after, to have a chance to turn off her brain. Arousal spiked through Twilight’s nethers in a way that had never happened previously in her life. When she drew her hind legs together, trying to squeeze away the growing tension, there was a moist squish, almost like a hoof pressing into wet, runny mud. As a rule, Twilight avoided dealing with these situations of intense arousal; they were embarrassing and thinking of them caused her to cringe horribly. She thought about the night she shared a bed with Rainbow Dash—a drunken night in bed with Rainbow. After being rejected, she had done things in bed right beside her friend, shameful, horrid acts of self-pleasuring. Rainbow Dash really was the best sort of friend… But right now, she was stone-cold sober and just about to cause a puddle. Twilight thought of the bathtub-shower and the floor-mounted water jets. Those were put there for hygienic purposes, obviously, but they had the most pleasing way of hitting just the right spots—for purposes of cleanliness. Eyes darting to and fro, Twilight realised those jets could be repurposed—for more perverse purposes. But what if somepony came in? Came up to the room? What if she was caught? The thought was more thrilling than she would ever admit; naughty beyond all reasoning. The need could not be ignored however and Twilight had to do something about the raging inferno in her loins. “Boy howdy, Twilight, you is a-smilin’ right now.” Squirming, blushing, Twilight focused on Pinkie Pie, who was working down below. Quite a crowd had gathered around the baker and she had a following. Pinkie was one of the final survivors, but she had not cracked five-hundred, nor would she. Twilight wasn’t vain enough to realise that ponies were watching Pinkie Pie because she was watching Pinkie Pie. “So tell me, Twi… were ya thinkin’ ‘bout Seville or Pinkie? Or both?” Both, Twilight thought to herself while Applejack scooted closer and pressed up against her. She wondered how her friend knew and contemplated the idea that it had to be because she had some kind of as-of-yet unknown earth pony power that Twilight did not yet understand. In fact, naughty thoughts had just sort of happened, and Twilight had thought about a number of things that she dared not mention. “Maple cayenne sweet tater pie.” Applejack made a gesture down at Pinkie Pie with her hoof. “Pinkie’s going for the bold finish. I’m not convinced it’s her best finisher, but it is a bold one.” Applejack’s mercy was appreciated. “Fifty-two, Twi. Fifty-two.” “I don’t follow.” “Thousands started out, Twi. I don’t recall the exact number. Right now, there is fifty-two left, of which Pinkie is one. Just getting to this point and standin’ among the survivors… that’s quite a feat, Twi. Even though she ain’t a big winner, Pinkie’s a-havin’ herself a strong finish. And you, as her friend, it’d be mighty nice of ya to do something nice-like in recognition of her struggle.” “Oh. I suppose so.” “That’s what we do, Twilight. Us earth ponies. We acknowledge each others’ struggle. By acknowledging the struggle of another, we validate one another's’ existence. It is the shared common experience of our kind and by being aware of it, by lookin’ another in the eye and telling them, ‘Good work!’ we keep one another’s spirits lifted and we find a way to keep goin’ when all hope is lost.” “Oh?” With a turn of her head, Twilight looked into Applejack’s green eyes. “And therein lies the worst sin of earth pony kind, Twi. The thing that makes us hate one another. What makes blood boil and turns us against ourselves. Forgetting what the struggle is… isolatin’ yerself from it. Insulatin’ yerself away from it and us, our shared, common experience. That’s why Blintz is a thundercunt, Twi. Not only has she done removed herself from our shared struggle, our common bond, but she exploits it, Twi… and that’s un-for-giv-able.” Blinking, Twilight tried to take in everything that Applejack had said. “Now, Twi… if’n you sit down with Pinkie and you recognise her struggle and you show her a little love for it… that mare is the type that will spend the rest of her life trying to show you a little gratitude for doing so. I suspect she keeps a list or something. It don’t take much to make her feel special, and nopony likes themselves a kiss-ass. It just needs to be something all endearing, sweet, and special.” “I can do that,” said Twilight to her friend. “I done figured you could.” Blushing, but for different reasons, Twilight leaned against her sturdy friend and thought about everything that had been said. It was time to learn something new, to adjust to a newfound state of being. She had started as a unicorn and she had learned the unicorn way, because what else was there? In Canterlot, in Celestia’s school, she had been surrounded by unicorns, so there was but one point of view, one shared perspective. Then came Ponyville, and looking back, Twilight saw how she learned how to be a pony from her friends. Not a unicorn—there was a distinction to be had—not anything. Just a pony. The shared, common experience as equines. Only with hindsight could she see the detrimental effect of her ivory tower upbringing; one unicorn among many, though ivory towers were not exclusive to unicorns. The struggle to be a pony was a tough one. One became so used to being a unicorn that it was difficult to appreciate the ways of others, and even harder to just be a pony. So much filtering had to be done. Twilight couldn’t see it at the time, but she saw it now. She saw it now and with it, she saw hope for the future, because this was evidence that it could be done and that if she could do it, then so too, could others. After gaining a thorough understanding of being a pony; after figuring out the nuts and bolts of friendship, Twilight had become a multi-tribal being, the living, breathing embodiment of the potential that the equine species had and everything it had to offer. She had become an alicorn. With this body, her experience as a pony came into fruition. With the flight lessons came an understanding of being a pegasus. Twilight realised this was external discovery. She had wings, therefore, was compelled to understand everything about them. The years rolled by, so many years, and during this time, Twilight came to know and understand much of what it meant to be a pegasus. She had even found her inner bird, much to her own embarrassment, though there was something reassuring about her hidden inner nature. Then came the Ink. Flung back in time, Twilight once again had to learn how to become something, only this took aeons. Mistakes had been made, and she had gone back to the beginning several times so that everything could be done right. From the past, she had made her way home during a long walk forward, shadowing many great and terrible events along the way. Through the most complicated trials of her life, she had become the Librarian of Souls and the Vessel of Ink. But her discovery was not yet done. One final frontier awaited. An internal frontier. Self discovery. It was time to embrace her earth pony aspects and to discover the very framework upon which all other external manifestations of tribe rested. Unicorns, it could be said, were creatures of mind, with their horns directly connected to their brains. Pegasus ponies were creatures of body, physical creatures, with their wings connected to their torsos, the protective housing for their guts, their biomechanical motors that powered their impressive physicality. But earth ponies? That was a journey inwards, towards regions unknown. Baking a simple pie lacked the theatricality that creating a wedding cake had. Pinkie had simply whipped up the sweet potato mixture, poured it into a pie crust of her own making, and had put the pie into the oven. About an hour later, the pie was pulled out and now, the splendiferous autumnal-orange creation sat upon the counter to cool. It was a pretty pie, made by a pretty Pie, but Twilight knew that she might be biased. For the past hour or so, Applejack had given Twilight a heartfelt and earnest crash course on everything earth pony. These weren’t mere Applejackisms, no; Twilight could sense the truth, the integrity in every word spoken. Sure, they were said in a very Applejackian sort of way, that couldn’t be helped, but Twilight had the distinct feeling that every earth pony would tell her much the same in their own special way. Nopony had a monopoly upon the truth and the same message could be told in different ways. Wrapping a wing around her treasured friend, Twilight pulled her into a warm, intimate hug. Cheeks pressed together, necks touching, the sensation of Applejack’s beating heart close to her own, Twilight thought of all the times that Applejack had been there for her. “Hey Jackie”—it felt weird to be so informal and Twilight felt strange—“how would you feel about being a bridesmaid?”