Edited byTuxOKC
“Cover the windows and break up the crowd, Clover,” the mare snapped. “I told you to do that before we got in here! We don’t need a circus outside!”
One of the guards near the door flinched. “Of course! Apologies!” He turned, and with help from another guard, did as he was told.
“Reservists,” the unicorn huffed.
“So,” Rachnera chirped, resting her bound hands upon the table, “let me see if I have this right: The ponies with the horns are called unicorns, the ponies with wings are called pegasus—”
“Pegasi,” someone corrected her in a terse voice.
A saccharine smile danced across her lips, “Of course, my mistake, pegasi, and the ponies without horns or wings are called Earth ponies.”
“That is correct, Madame Monster,” a slender unicorn mare with a peach coat told her. She sat across from her, a plumed helmet resting on top of the table to the side. A mane of gold streaked with orange tones was kept in a braid wrapped around her neck.
“Subject is still showing signs of distress,” said one of the unicorn guards. Her horn was glowing and she was keeping it pointed at the liminal. Rachnera glowered at the speaker, daring her to add to the comment. “The spell won’t last much longer.”
“Noted,” grunted the pony leader.
They were in the town hall meeting room. To the Arachne, it was nothing more than a fancy, converted barn. It had the distinct smell akin to Cantorea’s room. There were tables, chairs, a pair of iron chandeliers that might have been wagon wheels once upon a time ringed with glittering candles, a wooden floor stained and polished. Everywhere she looked, the craftsmanship screamed pride and dedication. She appreciated such things.
“I always thought unicorns were keepers of the forests, working with dryads to maintain the land,” Rachnera told the her captor. She kept a friendly front, but the guard had not been wrong. They were armed with spears and a couple of them, being unicorns, kept their horns glowing, and at the ready. “No offense, but that’s what they do where I come from. They also have cloven hooves and their tails aren’t quite the same as yours.” At least the spears were not being pointed at her. That had been annoying on the way from the house.
The unicorn held up a hoof. “Does this look cloven to you?”
“No, but whoever trimmed your hoof did a lovely job.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve never seen such an adorable species,” the Arachne went on. Clearing her throat, she pressed her arms together, which pushed her breasts out. “Might I have some water? I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have. I don’t want any trouble.”
The unicorn glared at the liminal. “I don’t exactly call sneaking around the village at night and accosting my son as ‘not wanting any trouble’.”
“I didn’t accost him! We were having a pleasant conversation after he magicked me,” Rachnera lied. “My head is still ringing.” Which was somewhat true. Every time a pony spoke, if she paid attention, there was what she could only describe as background noise crackling in her head.
The mare closed her eyes and sighed, “A cup of water for our new guest, please.”
Rachnera smiled. A wooden cup materialized in a flash of light in front of her, making her widen her eyes in surprise. “I don’t think I can ever get used to that,” she told the unicorn as she grasped her drink with her bound hands. “Thank you.” Nerves were starting to fray, but she had to keep herself together.
As she sipped her water, the unicorn’s eyes bore into her. Not at all trusting the Arachne, she had been surprised when the monster surrendered immediately after being discovered. No doubt there was a sense the Arachne was up to something. Something nefarious. Something evil. But mercy came instead of violence, surprising Rachnera.
Holding her cup to her lips with her elbows propped on the table, Rachnera peered over the rim and in turn stared back at Random’s mother. What was her name? Ah, yes, Reserve Captain Winter Shimmer, Mayor of Shimmerdale. Her family had deep roots in the region and was well respected by the populace. The family name had been cobbled onto everything, starting with the village itself.
“I would like to go home,” Rachnera said. “I would like to find someone who has the means to let me go home. That way, I can be out of your hair and no longer a problem for you to deal with. So, if you could just point me in the right direction, that would be lovely.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Monster,” Captain Shimmer said in a flat tone, “but I can’t exactly let you go. There are missing foals. Missing pups. Tensions are very high between us and the Diamond Dogs. Since you are what you are, a monster and suspect, I am going to make sure you are speaking the truth when you say you have nothing to do with the disappearance of said foals and pups. I am trying to avoid bloodshed and so help me, if you have anything to do with it, I will personally rip off each and every one of your legs and impale you with them. Do I make myself clear?” She tilted her head to one side a touch.
Rachnera smiled, “Crystal.” The water was cool and refreshing. “What are we waiting for?”
“My husband,” Winter replied. “We rule as equals here. I do not make decisions in regards to creatures like you without his counsel. He would do the same if our roles were reversed.”
“You must love and respect him very much,” Rachnera prompted.
“Irrelevant to the matter at hand,” Winter told her, living up to her name. “My son should have been in bed, but he says he felt your presence. Why?”
The Arachne shrugged. “I have no idea. I holed myself up into a tree after arriving here in order to figure out what I need to do in order to get home. An immense power brought me here and it’s going to take an immense power to send me back. I don’t belong here. I don’t want to be here. I want to be home, with my family, holding my love and blessing him with as many children as he wants.” Embellishment could be a good thing, if played right. It helped to throw in a well practiced pleading look for good measure.
Winter Shimmer roved her eyes over the monster girl, her lips set in a thin line. “You’re full of shit.”
“You got me,” Rachnera raised her bound hands, palms facing the unicorn and let out an unhappy sigh, “I am the Beginning of the End. I have come to drink all of your caffeine and put all before me in bondage. I’m a bit of a dominatrix and I must have my carnal desires satiated before I can return home and make sweet, sweet love to my Honey.” It made her feel better to say that, because it was silly.
Winter paled before clearing her throat. “I also find that unlikely. Disturbing, but unlikely. My special ability is in detecting magic and I don’t find much if any in you at all. In the end, you’re nothing more than a spider.”
“True.”
“You seem to have a sex fetish.”
Rachnera flashed a sensual smile. “I am a sexual creature.”
Winter’s eyes widened as she jerked her head back. “That’s...disturbing.”
“Why? Because I don’t look like you, act like you, or think like you, I’m disturbing?” The Arachne’s demeanor shifted as her mood soured. “I’ve dealt with hypocrites my whole life. I’ve never hidden who or what I am. I accept if someone doesn’t like me, hates me, or is even afraid of me. I could easily look at a pair of ponies fucking, say that’s disturbing, and become the very hypocrite you are being right now. I don’t like having people afraid of me, I don’t like people not liking me, and I certainly don’t like being hated. But you know something, pony, at least I can accept it and go somewhere where I am accepted for who and what I am. I have someone who accepts me as is and can even see through the facade I put up to protect myself from the cruelty of others. I can’t stress how much I do not want to be here. I have had nothing to do with your missing children and I find it shameful my appearance is all it takes for you to assume I have some form of responsibility for the bullshit around here. But you know what? I can accept that because you can’t see beyond the layer of skin I wear on the outside.” She was showing her teeth through her smile by the time she finished speaking.
Unimpressed, the unicorn scoffed, “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you Miss Monster?”
“Just letting you know where I stand,” came the reply. “I don’t want you thinking there was something about me you do not or cannot understand.”
Winter nodded, “Then understand my point of view. I am in a situation that has been deteriorating for weeks. I have parents missing their foals and I have a tribe of Diamond Dogs that are itching to go to war. There is a third party involved and I think they are trying to start a regional war. I don’t know who or where this third party is and quite frankly, your little sob story means nothing to me. I don’t give two shits who you want to fuck or how often you want to fuck him or her, it has nothing to do with the potential war I have looming not only over my head, but the heads of the civilians I am bound and sworn to protect. I am expecting reinforcements any day and once they arrive, I’ll be able to expand my search and find who is responsible if it’s not you.”
Rachnera blinked and stared. “I think we’re going to be good friends,” she commented with a sudden wry smirk.
“Highly unlikely,” the mare snorted, “but so long as you cooperate and don’t become a pain in my flank, then maybe, just maybe, when everything simmers down and we solve this little problem I have, you’ll get a train ticket to Canterlot. Under heavy guard. Because you do look like a fucking nightmare to us ponies.”
“That’s fine with me,” the Arachne said, satisfied. “Though, if I could speed things up…” Her voice trailed off as she became thoughtful.
“What was that?” Winter’s ears perked as she gave Rachnera a suspicious glare.
“What if I were to offer my services and help look for these foals. I’m very good at tracking and ambush. My webbing is strong and I can make it as sticky as you like. The way I see it, if I can help solve your problem, I can get myself to see your princess faster.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Winter said flatly. “I’m not going to trust somepony I don’t know to stand with my troops and mingle among my civilians. You’ll spook them and I’ll get bombarded with accusations and questions I really don’t want to deal with. I’m afraid you’re stuck here until we figure out what to do with you. As I said, we need to wait for my husband to return from patrol.”
For the next several minutes Rachnera sipped at her water while Winter Shimmer never took her eyes off her. They locked eyes and a battle of wills (i.e., staring contest) began.
The Arachne decided Random Shimmer’s mother was a bit too serious and probably lacked a sense of humor. Duties and titles, Rachnera reasoned, could suck the life out of someone. Though she had seen the fear in the mother’s eyes when Random was found with her, the restraint shown in not resorting to violence on the spot was commendable. It was better than some reactions humans had on seeing an arachnid: Spider! Stomp with shoe until it stops twitching!
It also helped when the little colt put himself between Rachnera and the unicorn and her guards, talking faster than what should have been possible. He had been crying, too, throwing in a lot of “Please, Momma, don’t squish my spider!”. Unable to say anything at the time in her defense, she let the little guy do his thing and win over his mother so she would at least allow Rachnera to explain herself. Winter seemed very upset to find a monster on her family home and then insisted the conversation be moved into the village’s town hall (the barn). The Arachne was then escorted from the house. At some point Random was taken away after a hushed scolding from his mother by another pony, presumably home.
And yes, he was very much grounded, as his mother grated at him in a furious, barely contained tone that had just enough fear in it to lead Rachnera to believe she was on the verge of tears.
Now, as she crossed her pedipalps one over the other, Rachnera understood the mare was under a lot of pressure. Perhaps antagonizing her any further would not serve any useful purpose and would become counterproductive. Hence, she offered to help, already knowing the chances of it being accepted would be virtually nil. So far, it was what she expected.
Her head was still aching. “I’m going to guess that little candle gave us away.” Setting down her cup, she brought her hands up and rubbed her temple. The throbbing had grown more and more difficult to ignore.
“Ma’am, the spell,” warned the busybody guard from before.
Winter gave a nod, not removing her attention from the Arachne. “The candle did give you away, but it was the spell my son cast that lead us to you.”
“You can sense that?”
“I just told you my special talent is detecting magic,” Winter reminded Rachnera.
“Right,” she drew out the word. “So, what you mean is when Random cast that translation thing on me, you felt it?”
“More or less.”
“How convenient for you.”
“It has its uses,” shrugged the unicorn. “The problem is, the translation spell used on you is only temporary and is already starting to wear off. I’m sure you’re noticing a buzzing sound growing louder and louder in your head.”
Rachnera nodded. “It’s annoying. Reminds me of a lamia I know.”
“I do not doubt that.” Winter rolled her jaw for a moment. “You’re lucky your brain wasn’t reduced to a puddle of goo. You could have been turned into a vegetable.”
Rachnera winced. “Lucky me. First experience with magic and I nearly get lobotomized.”
Winter expressed regret, “It was a stupid risk on my son’s part and on his behalf, I apologize. Random means well, but he’s yet to understand consequences.”
“But I’m still your prisoner.”
“You’re still my prisoner. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“I’m going to assume you are a carnivore.”
“You assume correctly. I can also eat vegetables, but I don’t mind fish if you don’t have any red meat.”
The unicorn gave a single, slow nod. “We can do fish.”
“Thank you.”
“Cletus, please go wake the innkeeper and ask his wife for one of her fish dishes. Doesn’t matter what, something she can whip up on the quick.”
“Yes ma’am!” An Earth pony guard saluted and trotted out the front door.
“Tea?” Winter asked. “I could go for a cup.”
“Tea would be lovely,” Rachnera agreed. I could use a good, stiff drink. “Could I push my luck and ask for a bath? I feel so dirty.”
She looked over towards one of the guards, “Tea for two, if you please.” He inclined his head and disappeared through a side door. “I might be able to arrange something. Lucifer might object. He has the largest tub in town that could hold you. Pony tubs would be too small for you.”
A brow rose. “Who is this ‘Lucifer’?”
Winter broke into a fond smile. “Retired minotaur warrior. Absolutely massive specimen. Fur as black as midnight and a long, white beard. Scarred. Red eyes, redder than yours. Wears glasses whenever he has to read. Runs the inn. Not a bad sort. Spent a lot of years hunting monsters for fun and profit. Might think you’re a new plaything to squish,” she finished, pointing a hoof at her prisoner.
A minotaur? Finally, something she was familiar with! Rachnera put her musing on pause as she stared at her captor, speculating. “Oh, goodie,” she sighed. “A monster hunting fanatic.”
Winter turned her head to one side in time to see one of the guards return with a tea tray. “Thank you, Hammer.”
“Ma’am,” Hammer squeaked. Rachnera ran a studious eye over him. He was young, probably a teen? He flinched when he spotted her staring at him, offering a weak smile before turning his gaze away from her. At least he didn’t spill the tea. The unicorn dismissed him with a smile.
“Sugar and cream?” Winter asked in a perfect hostess voice. Her eyes were still hard and had not at all softened.
She held up her bound hands. “No, thank you,” Rachnera replied. “Are these still necessary? You left my legs unfettered.”
Winter shook her head, “Think of it as a reminder of your situation. Even if you have done nothing wrong and none of the missing foals are linked to you, you are still an undocumented alien of a species unknown to Equestria. A report will have to be filed and we still have to determine if you are a threat to this land and its citizens.”
“So, word of me is being sent to your capital?”
Winter floated a cup of tea on a saucer over and set it before the Arachne. “Yes. Standard protocol. We have to keep you detained regardless until we figure out what to do with you.”
This...was not terrible news. It could even work in her favor! A smile, small and unassuming, flashed for a moment across her lips. Pushing her empty water cup aside, Rachnera lifted her tea and paused to inhale the aroma. “I see. What tea is this?”
“Just a black tea, Earl Neigh, I believe,” Winter replied.
The corner of Rachnera’s mouth upturned a tick. “I’ve noticed the puns in this land are quite humorous.”
The unicorn blinked. “What puns?”
“Nevermind.” The Arachne sipped her tea. She ignored the taste (though it was relaxing) and could feel the effects of the caffeine in moments. It was a subtle, warming sensation that made her feel better. She lowered her cup, asking, “So, what have you discovered about me since we’ve sat down?”
“Quite a bit, actually,” Winter was unruffled and sipped from her tea. “But I want to speak to my husband first before we go into that. I do hope he’s had a chance to speak with the dogs. This tit for tat spat is becoming bothersome and scaring the wits out of my ponies.”
The headache was becoming harder to ignore. Rachnera set her cup down and pressed her fingers to her temples, wincing as she closed her eyes and let out a pained hiss.
“The spell is—,” Winter’s voice crackled between understanding and horse sounds. Leaping to her hooves, she barked (whinnied?) out a command. Hammer went to the same side door as before and neighed into it. A unicorn sporting a white lab coat trotted in, a black bag floating with her.
She froze upon seeing Rachnera and visibly shuddered. The Arachne deadpanned through the pain. The doctor pony—once she got over her horror and realized she was still a professional—moved right up to the liminal, never breaking eye contact with her. All the while, Winter spoke to her in their pony language. Rachnera offered a pained smile, but did little else to look unintimidating.
Some things never change.
The doctor pony set her bag on the table and was already rummaging through it. In moments, a small glass bottle holding pills was fished out. Pills were dosed out and offered to the Arachne. Was it aspirin? She waved it off. The doctor neighed and stamped a hoof. The pills were practically shoved at Rachnera’s mouth.
She rebuffed the doctor’s prescription, giving her a flat stare, “I don’t want them!”
The unicorn huffed in concern, casting a sidelong glance at Winter and let out a worried whicker.
Winter pointed a hoof at the pills, then at Rachnera. The mare growled, as if to be inclined to shove the pills down a certain monster’s throat if just for the satisfaction of the idea alone.
Her head throbbed. It hurt. “Fine,” she gave in, snatching the pills from the air. Popping them in her mouth, she sipped her tea and swallowed.
The pony doctor was all smiles, now. She said something to Winter, who responded with a smile of her own followed by a nod. Eyeing the Arachne (and shuddering, again), she trotted back from whence she came, her bag following after her.
Rachnera sighed. Things were never easy when it came to dealing with others. Kimihito Kurusu accepted her, could see through her and she found she missed that and terribly so. The past few days without him—and, begrudgingly, the other girls she shared the house with—had been some of the loneliest of her life. The man had the patience of a god and put up with her antics (attempts at seduction, annoying the other girls with the occasional bondage practice, etc..) and welcomed her in his home without hesitation or reservation. Her thoughts, she knew, would always drift towards home until the day she stepped through those doors and could match her eyes with those of her Honey once again.
Steeling herself, she wiped the tears threatening to fall with her palms. Surely those ponies would assume they were because of the pain and not because of sentimentality! More tea was sipped. The throbbing in her head was receding and much faster than she thought.
Winter, she noted when she pushed through the haze of pain, had drawn closer, the hardness gone from her eyes. Did she care? Why would she care?
There was not a knock at the front door. It could not be a mere knock, because a polite rap at the door would insinuate someone on the other side was asking politely to be noticed and for the door to be answered. No, it was a savage pounding which shook dust and cobwebs from the highest reaches of the town hall’s ceiling. Picture frames bearing the likenesses of various ponies fell to the floor. The two chandeliers swayed overhead as if they were at sea. A second, more powerful rap of impending doom struck against the wood of the doors, the timbers cracking.
The guards scrambled to open the door, open! Winter was shouting, though not out of fear for her companions nor herself, but for city property under brutal assault. She knew who was rapping, rapping at that barnyard door. It was too late, and she cried out, ponies dove for cover. For on the third strike upon that poor, poor door, Lucifer came, for there could be no other name fitting for the ebony furred beast that burst through.
Rachnera was already moving, skittering up the wall and up into the rafters, the better part of valor crying out ‘self preservation’.
A minotaur, the largest she had ever even heard of strode through, with bits of door clinging upon his broad shoulders. And...was that a door knocker hanging off one of those bull horns? He was larger than a nightmare, his eyes blazing like burning embers, searching, frantic, a hungering search, until they lifted upward and found the Arachne.
The most terrifying...moo? Rachnera had ever heard rolled from his lips like a thunderstorm. A snigger began, then erupted from her. She nearly fell from her perch as laughter unbidden overcame her fear, and she was left teary eyed and clutching her sides. Her aching head was forgotten, as the most ridiculous sound came from the most terrifying creature she had ever seen. This was absurd! Her fears were coming out as laughter and with it, she felt, went her sanity.
This confused the minotaur, who made another—more of a questioning and confused—moo to Winter.
Rachnera only laughed harder, waving her apologies at the brutish man bull.
Which confused him even more.