Princess Celestia’s royal chariot soared through the gloomy gray-clouded skies of Equestria’s Flint Steppes. The lands below were equally gloomy, an endless stretch of country consisting of dry gray rocks protruding from dry gray dirt. It was a part of her kingdom that she had rarely visited- few of her subjects lived in this region, and those who did chose it for its isolation.
A small farm came up in the distance. It had, until recently, been a long-abandoned homestead, and the farmhouse and outbuildings were still in a dilapidated state. The crops- mostly root vegetables- were newly-planted. The ponies who lived here had bought and moved into this place just a few weeks ago, and the need to get away from the world had taken precedent over every other living consideration.
The pegasus charioteers sighted a safe patch of earth for a landing, and brought their princess down with expert gentleness. She stepped off the chariot.
“Thank you, sirs,” said Celestia to the pegasi. “I don’t know how long this will take. Relax until I return.”
They nodded, smiling proudly, and started to undo their harnesses. Celestia walked up to the farmhouse door and knocked. There was a clatter inside. The door opened. In the doorway were two earth ponies in simple country attire.
“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Root. I am Princess Celestia. I understand an issue has arisen with your son’s cutie mark that requires my attention.”
“You didn’t have to come out all this way, your highness,” said the father. “This has all been some kind of misunderstanding. Some twisted prank.”
“That is what I came to determine. May I speak with the boy?”
“You shouldn’t! It’s not right! It’s disgusting!” said the mother.
“I have seen many unusual sights in my time. Now I must see what all this consternation is about. Please, I came to help.”
“He’s… he’s in his room,” said the father, pointing to a door leading to a hall. “At the back.”
Celestia nodded, and walked inside. As she made her way to the back, her attention was drawn to the trash bin in the kitchen. It was stuffed full of merchandise bearing her own image- a plush doll, a T-shirt, postcards, and more. She magically lifted out a ball of crumpled paper and smoothed it out. It was a poster of her raising the sun. Its corners were torn off.
“He had all kinds of stuff with you on it. We thought it just meant he was patriotic. We didn’t know it would lead to… to something like this,” said the father. “We’re getting rid of it all.”
She rolled it up and placed it back in the bin. She walked down the hallway to the last door. She knocked.
“Come in?” said a faint voice inside.
She opened the door and entered. A young colt was sitting on his small bed, dressed in a heavy canvas smock which concealed all but his head. There was little else in the room but plain furniture and empty shelves. Celestia could see the torn-off corners of the poster still tacked to the wall.
As the boy looked up, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.
“Hello, Radish. I am Princess Celestia. I would like to have a talk with you.”
He nodded, jaw still open. Celestia walked in and closed the door.
“I understand you have recently earned your cutie mark. Congratulations. This is normally a joyful occasion in a young pony’s life- the start of lifetime of self-discovery.”
The colt looked off to the side, and nodded.
“But I understand your cutie mark is quite unusual. News of it has spread even as far as my royal palace in Canterlot.”
“It’s not my fault!” the colt blurted out. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“No. Of course not. May I see it?”
The boy cringed, inching his back against the wall.
“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. But I came to help, and I can only do that if I fully understand the situation. A pony should never be ashamed of their mark.”
The boy nodded, and undid the clasp on his smock. He put it aside and turned to show his flank. Celestia approached for a better look. She stared. He shivered. She leaned in even closer and peered at it.
“I see. Well, this is an authentic cutie mark. The reports didn’t quite do it justice.”
On the colt’s flank was an image of Celestia herself, depicted head on. She was kneeling, with her front legs prone and her hindquarters held slightly higher. Her tail was lifted. A stallion was taking her from behind.
The stallion was an adult, but had the same coat and mane colors as the boy- buff yellow and chestnut brown. Black outlines on the figures allowed the image to stand out from the surrounding fur. The angle of the image obscured the stallion’s cutie marks. His front hooves were gripping Celestia's haunches, and he had an expression of serene bliss on his face. The tiny Celestia, however, had an expression of wild passion- her widely-smiling mouth hung open with her tongue lolled out to one side, and her eyes were joyfully rolled up to the heavens.
“Well, at least it looks consensual.”
When Celestia was first informed of it, she believed whoever made the report was simply exaggerating or misinterpreting the mark. Cutie marks are often heavily symbolic and wide open to their owners’ interpretation. But this, however, left little to interpretation. This colt’s cutie mark was himself, as an adult, fucking Celestia.
“Tell me, Radish, how do you interpret your cutie mark? What does it mean to you?”
“Well, it’s us. We’re having sex.”
“You’re awfully young to know of such things.”
“Earth ponies help animals do it every spring.”
“Hmm. How did you earn this mark? What were you doing when it appeared?”
“It happened when I was sleeping. I woke up with it. I think I was dreaming about you.”
“What do you think this means your special talent is?”
“Having sex with you!”
Celestia winced.
“This may not be us at all.”
“It is! How could it not be?”
“As the ruler of Equestria, this mark may be using me as a generic placeholder, to represent any mare. This stallion may generic as well, just taking inspiration from your coloring.”
“What? It’s us.”
“Perhaps this indicates you have an interest in medicine? There will always be a need for doctors who specialize in reproductive health.”
“No, I’ve never wanted to be a doctor.”
“Perhaps this represents your artistic interests? Do you dream of writing novels or plays about romance?”
“No! Look at it. It’s just us, together.”
“But how can your talent involve me if you’ve never met me before?” asked Celestia.
“Well, you’re here now! You came! And now, well…”
Celestia’s eyes widened.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I only came here to assess your cutie mark.”
“But… I thought you came to… do this. With me.”
“You’re far too young to even be thinking about it. It would be highly inappropriate, immoral, and illegal.”
“Then, how about when I’m older? It looks like I’m bigger in the mark, right? Maybe this means I’ll become your husband!”
“Cutie marks don’t tell the future. They don’t tell you who you are to marry. And a husband’s role is more than that of a sexual partner, he is a committed equal in a serious relationship. I have no plans to ever marry- my duties to Equestria are far too great.”
“Then, the royal consort!”
“Royal consort?”
“You know, I could live in the palace, and whenever you want, like after a hard day, we could do this!” he said, pointing to his mark.
“Surely you want a better future for yourself than that.”
“What could be better than that? It’s what everypony wishes they could do. And thanks to this, it could be me! Look how happy you look. That means that you’ll really like it, too. We’re meant for each other.”
Celestia sighed.
“I came here hoping to help you find a better interpretation of your mark. I’ve never seen one this elaborate, or explicit, or specific. It is unique, no question, and it may take time before any of us truly understand what it means. But I must make myself clear- I will not be having sex with you. At any age. My choice of partners is mine alone. I do not sleep with somepony simply because their cutie mark depicts it.”
“But, but… but you have to!”
“I have to?”
“I mean, you’ve just got to! If this is what makes me special, then we can’t not do it! It’d be like banning a pony with a bowling cutie mark from every bowling alley! It’d be like a pony with a violin cutie mark never being allowed to touch a violin!”
Celestia looked at him sternly.
“I am no violin, boy.”
The boy looked sheepish, then mumbled a soft apology. He hunched over.
“I don’t know what to do. My parents were so angry when they saw this. They took me out of school, moved us to this old farm, never let me see anyone, always make me wear something to hide it. I can’t help what mark I got. But if we never do this, then I have no purpose in life. I have no destiny.”
Celestia’s face softened. She walked up to the colt and put her wing on his shoulder.
“I am sorry that your mark has caused you difficulties. That should never happen to a pony. You’ve done nothing wrong, and I will talk to your parents to try to help them see that.
“Cutie mark magic is a force nopony fully understands, and none can control. Nopony should be asked to forsake their mark, but I think you’d be happier if you found a new destiny.”
“Then I’m back to being a blank flank. Maybe forever.”
“You have a world of potential ahead of you, but sex with me will not be part of it. I am confident you will find new interests, even love interests, and forget all about me.”
“What if I work really hard? What if I grow up to be really strong, and smart, and handsome? I’ll prove that I’m worthy of you!”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Just drop it,” she said, coldly.
Radish gasped, then buried his face in his hooves, hoping she’d leave without another word. Then, he heard a whisper in his ear.
“Listen, if anypony ever gives you grief over your cutie mark, tell them Celestia is a personal friend of yours. And that she found it flattering.”
“Really?” he asked, lifting his eyes.
“Really. Goodbye, Radish Root. I wish you all the best.”
She left his room. Radish heard her speaking to his parents. Though he couldn’t make out the words, he could hear Celestia’s voice- soothing and warm, understanding and peaceful. As their discussion went on, his parents voices slowly returned to a level of calm he hadn’t heard in weeks.
He heard the front door open and close, then the sounds of her chariot taking off. He looked out his window and caught a glimpse of her flying away. His parents knocked on his door, something which they had never done before.
“Come in?”
They slowly entered the room, looking embarrassed. They hugged him.
“Son, we’re sorry.”