//------------------------------// // Medea, Mother of First Screams, Tyrant of Infants, Hogger of Donuts // Story: My Fey Lady // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// As it turned out, Fluttershy managed to sleep like a baby that night; it was the morning after that she felt jittery and nervous. She teleported up to Discord’s place, with her zap apple jam and tea treats along for the ride, and made sure to clean up the furniture she’d dropped off the day before. Her stomach growled in anticipation. Morning tea was not her favourite Canterlot tradition, never had been. The waiting for a guest who could arrive early or late was annoying enough to be stressful, though she did appreciate having friends who could teleport and arrive precisely when they meant to. Her being at Discord’s place rather than her own home only added to the anxiety. She still wasn’t sure how her powers worked, not at full capacity. She was outside of her home, out of her domain, and that made her weaker, she knew that much. She stayed seated at the table, waiting. Fluttershy’s heart skipped a beat when the doorbell rang. At Discord’s command, the door opened to a composite creature, much like himself, but made up of vastly different parts compared to her friend. For one thing, Medea’s body was symmetrical, eerily so. Her head was that of a black-faced ewe, blue eyes seeming to project a constant air of judgement. The draconic lineage was still visible, though, in the curved horns that adorned her and definitely did not belong on a female sheep. The wool of the sheep parts transitioned into shark skin, tiger shark judging from the stripes, with the same dragon back ridges Discord had, smaller than the dorsal fin. Her tail, finally, was that of a wolfess, at least up top, the lower half was still a vague resemblance of a shark’s fin. Her front paws were of a species Fluttershy couldn’t place, but they were small and stubby, and for some reason the word ‘quokka’ kept ringing in her ears every time she tried to remember what they were. The hind legs, though, were easy to place: those were lion limbs. All in all, Medea looked small compared to her son, about the size of Chrysalis. Much like Chrysalis, though, size didn’t matter with all the malice behind those eyes. “Hello, son,” Medea greeted. “It’s been a while. I trust you’ve kept your affairs at least partially in order?” “Whatever do you mean?” he inquired. “You know full well what I mean. I’ve sensed your power being drained, and shut down, and blocked stars only know how many times over the span of less than a decade. I didn’t think you could be any more of a failure, yet here we are,” she hissed. Discord grumbled. “There’s a reason for all of that, mother. Won’t you come in and we can explain it?” “We?” The draconequus stepped in past her son, walking on on hind legs, and finally noticed the faerie in the room, along with all the other decorations. “Oh. I see. I take it from the greenery then that this would be…” “Well, you did always tell me you wanted me to get hitched. Surprise!” Discord popped out and back into existence and sat down at the table, already pouring himself some tea and picking up some donuts. “Fluttershy, this is Medea, my mother. Mother, this is Fluttershy.” “P-p-” Fluttershy swallowed her first attempt at a greeting. “Hello, Missus Medea.” Medea was not impressed, from the looks of it. “So, you are his girlfriend.” She strode over to the table and sat opposite Discord, before rubbing her paws over the wood. “And you are an archfey, if my senses do not betray me. Strange that you would deign to sit at such mundane furniture, then. It has the stench of ponies all over it. No doubt my son swindled someone out of it.” “You are correct,” Fluttershy said, taking her place next to Discord. She hummed a little tune for animation magic and the teapot came to life to pour her guest something to drink. “I am an archfey.” “The musical magic is a dead giveaway if the wings aren’t. And you two are living together now?” “We are together at the moment, yes.” Fluttershy sipped her tea and took a nibble off of a teacake. “Most of my time I spend in Equestria, my home is in the mortal realm. But I do treasure all the time I can spend with him. Won’t you join us for breakfast?” “Unless you’re afraid of eating a fey’s food, mother?” Discord joked. “Hardly. This is pony food, no more magic to it than the furniture.” Medea smirked and grabbed her share of the breakfast donuts, along with some macaroons to loudly dunk in her tea, before tossing them into her maw. An impolite yet familiar belch later she asked, “And how long has this been going on?” “Goodness, how long exactly, I cannot say. In the time I’ve known him, I’ve seen at least five royal reigns rise or fall.” Luna, Sombra, Chrysalis, Cadence, Twilight… oh my, I’ve lost count already. Discord froze. He kept his teacup up to his face, and made a point of slurping for as long as he could, hiding his face behind it. “Oh, five royals up or down, that’s... that’s not a brief fling, then, at least. So how did you meet? Was it love at first sight?” A hint of disgust bled through the question. “Not at all. We fought each other the first time we met,” Discord started. He’d plundered the orangettes and was currently looking to secure some chocolate truffles, before getting back to the main matter of eating his donuts, tugging at the jar of jam with his magic. “It was quite the battle,” Fluttershy said. “We both used some very powerful magics against each other.” “Rocky beginnings can be fun, but they are difficult to process sometimes. And of course, you being turned to stone didn’t help that relationship at all,” Medea remarked. Discord slurped at his tea again in response, shuddering. “Very true. I only softened up to him after he was freed from his stone prison.” Fluttershy smiled. In her mind, the music was still playing, her power still flowed freely. Opera, pop songs, anything with a solid rhythm kept her magic up. She idly refilled the platters with treats as the draconequuses kept on taking them like they were capturing enemy territory on one another. The Zap Apple jam was getting tossed from one end of the table to the other, as well. Medea glared at Discord. “Ah, yes, the stoning, right after my last visit. You let yourself be beaten by those sisters.” “Yes,” Discord muttered from behind his teacup. “And then again by mere mortal ponies.” “You know about that?” Fluttershy asked. “I can sense whenever my son’s power is threatened, in certain ways. Part of being a Lord of Chaos is being prepared to defend yourself. And for you to get beaten by, what, half a dozen nameless mortal ponies?” “To be fair, they used the same artifacts as the sisters to do it,” Discord argued. “Oh, that makes it all okay, then. After that, it was that demon Tirek, or that black stone I told you a thousand times you can’t go near. Honestly, how often have you lost your powers or been rendered helpless now? An imp would do a better job than you!” Fluttershy made her spoon dance in her tea, still holding on to the music in her mind. It was a steady tap dance now. “All the more reason he should consort with a powerful fey creature, no?” A little bleat of a chuckle escaped from Medea’s lips, before she grew a toothy shark grin, only for a moment. “Well, at least this one’s got a good head on her shoulders. I can respect that logic, I suppose. Stars know common sense is something my son sorely lacks. And to think he’s so weak as to beaten by mortals.” “Mortals with artifacts, again, Missus Medea.” “Artifacts, shmartifacts. A draconequus should be beyond that sort of weakness.” “Oh? I didn’t know that.” Fluttershy tilted her head. “So something like... Grogar’s Bewitching Bell, that wouldn’t affect you, then?” The sheep ears raised up, and Fluttershy was sure the shark skin bristled with ire. “Grogar is gone. His bell is sealed away, never to be used again.” “I know. It’s in the Canterlot vault now. Partly due to your son’s actions, I might add.” “You broke the seal?” Medea asked him, teeth clenched in anger. “Well, not exactly. Tirek, Chrysalis and Cozy Glow, a little Pegasus filly, they did the actual breaking,” Discord replied. “Under a ruse of his, proving that it could be broken in the first place,” Fluttershy added. “And is it safe now?” Fluttershy nodded. “The mortals of Equestria are getting more powerful magic now, yes. It’ll be easier to spot if it is, umm, you know, misplaced this time.” “See that it doesn’t, please.” Medea casually tossed a pair of scones into her maw. “I’d rather not risk that artifact getting flung stars know where.” “We take good care of things, don’t worry,” Fluttershy said, gently eating her breakfast, making a point not to follow the mad rhythm of the two chaos beings. “Good care, eh? Do you take good care of my son, too, then?” Discord bit down on his teacup. “He hasn’t complained about my care yet,” Fluttershy replied. She hummed and gestured at the cup, fixing the crack Discord had bitten into it. “So you think you would fit into our family, then?” Medea waved a paw around, and some Zap Apple jam was smeared on her next chunk of conquered breakfast treats. The archfey shrugged and idly flapped her shimmering wings. She, likewise, smeared some jam on her own scone, just the one she had at the ready. “Umm, well… honestly, I’m not sure I know that much about it.” Medea tilted her head, curious. “You don’t know what I am, do you?” “A spirit of chaos. A draconequus, like Discord.” She gulped down the scone in one bite, if only to show some signs of fitting in on her own terms. “Something along those lines. But there are many kinds of chaos, many ways in which destruction and creation become one and the same. I am a spirit of one such way, Discord is another.” Fluttershy tried to find the connection between the animal parts she recognised on Medea, but none came. “To say it in full: I am the spirit of a future sacrificed to preserve the present. Put more bluntly: I am the spirit of child sacrifice. In other worlds, other realms, whenever a god or spirit demands the offering of a firstborn to seal a covenant, I embody the power of that covenant. I am the mechanics of sacrifice made flesh. Every cruel god who asks infants to be mutilated at birth, strengthens me. Every mother who condones that mutilation, makes excuses for it, even encourages or demands it, well, they give me new life.” “Surely you cannot be that powerful, then? What sort of mother would let her child be mutilated at birth?” “Thousands, millions over the years. Sometimes the little things die from the shock, even, it’s quite delicious. Permanently damaged, at an age when all they can process is the presence of their mother, it latches onto them, links them. I feed off of a hate and pain that lasts lifetimes, not to mention what the little ones do to others as a result... oh, it’s a fine sort indeed that feeds me. Whole generations warped in unknowing worship to me.” Medea licked her lips after swallowing another macaroon. “Mortal pain is a mighty fuel for magic, as I’m sure you’re aware. Faith is another. To combine both, and see so many offer up the very future of their bloodline as worship, that is true chaos, true power. So, Fluttershy, dearie, what sort of power do you wield, hmm? What is your dominion?” “Kindness,” she blurted out, smearing a muffin with rainbow-coloured jam, still purely with magic. “I have a sanctuary for hurt animals. No creature enters my domain hurt and leaves hurt. Everything in my care is healed to the best of my ability.” “Is that a fact?” “Yes.” “Everything?” “Everything.” “And if you have, say, a family of mice in your care at the same time as a snake, what then?” “Things become… chaotic then. And I try to make the right choice.” Medea scoffed with a hint of a purr. “An archfey with a sense of introspection, now that is a rare find indeed. I was expecting someone more self-righteous and hypocritical. You picked a surprisingly dull girl for a mate, Discord.” Discord finally stopped hiding his face behind his teacup, mostly because said teacup was empty. “Careful what you say, mother, she is sharper than you think.” “We’ll see. At least we have that in common, little fey girl: we are both spirits of kindness, in a way.” “I think you’re a spirit of cruelty first, Madam.” The sheep face sneered, glancing at Discord. “And what’s the difference? One needs to be tough on one’s sons: they’re the ones dying for the motherland, after all. You’ve been around Equestrian ponies long enough to know, I hope: they sacrifice their own all the time, children and adults. Why, it wasn’t two or three millennia ago that they were sacrificing Unicorns every day just to get the Sun moving. Wasn’t that kind of those horned ponies? Last I heard, the other tribes still considered them a bunch of privileged snobs, so much for gratitude. Never mind that they’re only ones who don’t get their abilities from birth: they have to offer up priceless years of their lives to even get a chance at the power their blood gives them. I mean, my knowledge of Equestria is limited, yes, my eyes don’t catch that much there, but I still notice the broad strokes. Am I wrong in my observations?” The songs in Fluttershy’s mind shifted in tone. They were turning more to the realm of soundtracks now, and particularly those of horror and thriller films. Given that she tended to keep her eyes closed during those, the music was about the only thing she remembered from those occasions. “Maybe not your observations, no, but your conclusions, perhaps?” “Go visit, what was it called? Canterlot? Go visit Canterlot then, sneak into an academy and see for yourself,” Medea argued. “There are so many mares squandering their fertile years, and so many stallions browbeaten into mediocrity and servitude. That’s easy enough to see under all the pretense, even by pony standards, so much future wasted to safeguard the fleeting present. I’m not the one forcing them into that; they are the ones kind enough to decide to. And that’s just Unicorns, I could go on and on about all the mortal vermin on that world. You’re a more patient soul than I am to put up with it.” “Thank you,” Fluttershy said, before taking a quiet, polite sip of her tea. The walking teapot came by to refill it. “I meant my son, but you too, I suppose. Actually, if you didn’t know what I am, do you know what he is? Really, I mean, when he’s not being ridiculous and actually gets things done? It’s only fair as a future in-law, isn’t it?” The fey’s bat ears twitched. “Discord? Is there something you need to tell me?” Finally, Discord set his cup down entirely and spoke up. “Mother, I have told you time and time again: I am a Lord of Chaos, just like you.” “Hardly,” came the reply. A wave of her paws, and the curtains closed, as if she were concerned about the neighbours. “You let yourself get sidetracked by mortal distractions. You’re always so childish, and you know how I feel about children. Has he not told you, dear, what he is supposedly the Lord of? It’s an interesting notion, really.” “Nothing too interesting about it. I am a spirit of change.” Discord held his head up with pride. “Yes. Discord represents growth through suffering,” Medea explained, grinning. “He cannot help but be harmful and toxic to everything and everyone around him, it’s in his nature. He has to present challenges to heroes, to accelerate ascension by offering some form of antagonism, to spread disorder and strife. It’s his very lifeblood. He got that from his mother’s side of the family. But over time he grew soft and complacent, allowing mortals to trap him in their little webs of morals and feelings. Beaten by a silly rainbow, honestly, any mere wizard can fire a Prismatic Spray spell. You’re a laughing stock.” Another wave of her paw, and the gingham curtains turned a pure black. He growled. “That is not how it works, mother. For one thing, that silly rainbow is what overpowered the magic of Grogar’s bell in the first place. Those mortals beat the bell’s power.” He snapped his fingers, and the Plunder Seed plants in the corner got a piece of cake to munch on. “You lie,” she hissed. A snap of Medea’s fingers, and the plants were muzzled, and quiet. “Grogar was a descended Primeval. His bell contained conceptual magic, rules of the universe even we cannot break. Magic to match that does not exist within mortal realms.” “I keep trying to tell you, mother: power does not just exist, power grows,” Discord argued. “That is what I do, that’s what I’m responsible for: making things grow. And who are you to tell me what it’s in my nature and what isn’t? It’s in my nature to go against my nature, that’s the closest thing chaos even has to a rule!” “He does have a point,” Fluttershy noted. “I mean, umm, ponies have started wielding greater powers than ever before. Not every pony, obviously, it’s still limited to only a few ponies, but those few ponies are at least as strong as the ancients. Did you know Star Swirl the Bearded has returned?” “I did not,” Medea said. She changed the colour of the wallpaper to a uniform autumn brown on a whim. “Nor do I particularly care. He was a fine mortal wizard back in the day, from what I hear, but that’s still all he was. Magical secrets can only be preserved by constant revelation, and that is not in our domain.” She glared at Discord. “Our domain is poking things hard enough to force said revelation, not gallivanting around with the mortals.” “I’ll do as I please, mother.” Discord folded his arms over his chest and huffed, bringing the wallpaper to a butterfly and flower design. “You can’t force me anymore. Besides, you’re the one missing out. I got to see a few ascensions first-hand because of all that gallivanting. It was very educational to see.” This evidently caught Medea’s attention. “Educational, you say? As in… preparatory?” “I suppose, if you want to look at it that way.” That sheep face changed again, into another expression of joy. It was unnerving how Medea could smile or grin yet project such evil intent. This smile looked more genuine, though, and that felt even more worrying. “Then you are ready, and serious, about producing some progeny?” “We have talked about children recently,” Fluttershy replied. Her stomach was aflutter with all the half-truths she’d managed to slip in already. She had been discussing the Cutie Mark Crusaders only a day before, after all, and they were still children. “Good, good. I hope they take after the strong side of the family, then. They say common sense skips a generation. I’m sure my grand-children will be brilliant. And you never really answered my question, you sly little thing: what about power? How powerful would you say you are, Fluttershy? Strong enough to discipline the spawn of chaos itself?” Fluttershy looked away. “Ah, I see I’ve got you flustered now.” Medea poked a needle into a bit of thin air, before downing more Sugarcube Corner produce slathered with the best of Sweet Apple Acres. “Let’s put a pin in that, then, shall we? Their power will come from their father’s side anyway, chaos always shines through. You are only required in the production process, really. Although I do look forward to seeing what happens when those magics mix.” “Whatever the mix is, I’ll make sure they put it to good use,” Discord said with a sneer. “Excellent, so you agree they’ll be mine to raise, then.” “What?” Fluttershy asked. “Well, it’s only logical, isn’t it? My dominion lies in the realm of children. And Discord, by his very nature, cannot take care of any living thing. It would be best if any offspring be put within my care as soon as possible.” Fluttershy blushed. “Oh, I don’t know. I think Discord would make a fine father figure.” Medea’s eyes narrowed. “Strange.” “What?” “That you specify ‘father figure’ and not ‘father.’ That inability to lie is starting to shine through, dearie.” Medea stirred her tea, menacingly. Fluttershy focused on the songs in her head and changed them to something more upbeat. Another round of treats came floating by, and the teapot gave everyone a refill. “It can mean a lot of things. It wouldn’t, umm, behoove a Lord of Chaos to only be one thing to his children, would it?” “True. But still.” Medea leaned in. “I find it hard to believe a spirit of kindness would risk her own offspring to be around the likes of him for long. Tell me, would you trust Discord with, say, a pony child?” “No,” Fluttershy replied. “But I’d trust him with three to five, maybe ten, under supervision. In my limited experience, chaos really balances itself out when there’s just enough of it coming from different sources.” Discord’s interactions with the Cutie Mark Crusaders were less than stellar, admittedly, but they certainly weren’t the sorts of disasters most ponies expected. In fact, the Cutie Mark Crusaders hardly did any damage when he was around. “Wise one, too. But you say that not knowing the whole story. My boy has a history of animal negligence.” She faked a gasp. “Oh, dear, don’t tell me he neglected to mention that during your courtship?” There was a record scratch in Fluttershy’s mental music. She narrowed her eyes and took a moment to regain focus, to make her magic work properly again. “I suspect it slipped his mind during the battles. What negligence do you mean?” “Where do I begin? There was his little Cerberus, Spot. Poor thing nearly starved to death, I had to send it away to a shadow realm.” “You muzzled two of his mouths so he could barely eat,” Discord retorted. “And then you sent him to a frozen hellscape.” “He was too loud, Discord, and you both needed a lesson in discipline. Besides, he had you to keep him warm, didn’t he? Well, once you figured out basic fire conjurations, that is, and it’s not my fault that took you so long he froze his tail off. Anyway, then my son went and got his jackalopes. Silly things nearly died of exhaustion after a little run around the realms.” “You kept blinking them into worlds with oversized predators.” “And you kept on ignoring my perfectly reasonable suggestion to learn some portal magic so you could get home quickly,” Medea quipped. “But fine, blame that failure on me, too.” “You did it while I was sleeping! I never had more than five seconds to react!” “And if you’d just learned basic time dilation when you should have, that wouldn’t have been a problem, either. See what I mean, dearie? No sense of responsibility, no concept of thinking ahead, never owns up to his actions. And finally, of course, there’s his little bird of paradise.” Discord gasped. The hand holding his teacup was riddled with tremors as he put it down. “Apus? No, mother, don’t tell me he’s gone, too! What did you do to him?!” “Who is Apus?” Fluttershy asked. “My star bird,” he replied. “Whom I have had to tend to for several millennia now, thanks very much.” “I would have taken him with me to Equestria if I could have. But you wouldn’t allow it.” Medea sneered at him. “No, because you never owned up to your failures and clearly you weren’t ready for the responsibility. To tell you the truth, I can barely keep up with caring for it myself with all of my duties, and I’m stronger than you by several orders of magnitude.” With a snap of her stubby fingers, Medea dropped a golden cage onto the table. In it there was a creature seemingly made of night sky, with shimmering stars interrupted only by its eyes. It looked like a bird, vaguely, the same way an Ursa Minor looked like a bear. Depending on the angle one looked at it, different constellations were visible. The species was one Fluttershy didn’t recognise immediately, either, not from anything she’d ever taken of. The closest she could remember was a tropical bird, not even one Princess Celestia owned, but one Tree Hugger had shown her once. Even then, this thing was only superficially of the same genus. This creature had feathers, a beak, but its eyes were dull and lifeless, and it lacked hind legs. It was lying there on its back, pleading with its gaze through the bars of its cage. Fluttershy lost the music in her mind then. Her thoughts became completely silent. She didn’t even react when she heard Discord gasp again. She noticed the tone of it, though: outraged, sad, helpless. Something felt different. Her mind, her focus, it had changed, but she couldn’t pinpoint how or why. It wasn’t anger or sympathy, she knew, because she’d felt those in the past and she recognised those emotions when they snuck up on her. This emotion wasn’t like that at all. This was calm, almost, if not for the need to suppress a tremble. Am I feeling giddy? Why? Why do I feel like I just won something? Discord’s emotions were all too familiar, though. “What have you been doing to him?! His stars are so faded.” “The light keeps me up otherwise. Star beasts take a notoriously long time to die of natural causes, they’re almost as bad as phoenixes. I only want the biggest lights to go out, after that I’ll see about teaching him how to sing. It’ll be more than he’d ever get from you. If I left him to you, he’d be even worse off. Be thankful that he’s alive and well. And don’t even think about trying to snap your fingers at me, Mister. You know I’m more powerful, you know I’m right. You can’t take care of any living thing. You never could. So just admit it.” Medea leaned back and worked down more of the breakfast, smearing some Zap Apple jam on her doughnuts before gulping them down like a starving hippo. “Umm, even if that is true, he wouldn’t need to,” Fluttershy said, quietly, gently. “I can take care of living things. In fact, I can take care of his bird right now if it bothers you so much.” “That’s very kind of you, but no. The bird stays with me.” The music of her magic started up again, out of her control. It sounded electronic, oddly enough, one of the schoolboys in Ponyville would probably recognise it. “Oh, but I must insist. That bird needs help. I intend to help it. You said so yourself: you can barely keep up. So give that bird to me, now, please.” “Little fey girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re dealing with here.” Fluttershy looked down at the cage. Oh. So that’s how that part works? Well, in for a penny, I guess... “Missus Medea, I think I know exactly what I’m dealing with. I’m dealing with a bully, and someone who abuses the feelings of others just to make a point. You, however, don’t have any idea of what you’re dealing with.” Discord raised a claw at her. “Fluttershy, you might want to stop now. You don’t want mother to get upset. Really, bad things happen when she’s upset.” “Maybe. But from what I’ve heard, bad things happen around her no matter how she feels,” Fluttershy argued. “So there isn’t any point in caring, is there?” “I don’t often say this, but I agree with Discord on this. That fey arrogance is cute in moderation, but I’ve had my fill of it for now. Let the grownups talk and hush up, would you?” Medea snapped her fingers. Fluttershy’s nose curled in disgust. Nothing else happened. No star bursts, no teleportation, no curses. Medea looked at her hand, confused. She snapped her fingers again. “What the… Discord, how are you doing this?” Discord furrowed his brow and, likewise, found his magic shut down. He snapped his fingers and arched an eyebrow at Fluttershy. “Umm… that’s not me doing it, mother.” Fluttershy beckoned her teapot over for a refill, took another calming sip of her tea, and then smeared some Zap Apple jam on the last remaining doughnut. Once she was finished, and only when she was finished, she made a curt, rough gesture at the floating pin to yank it out in a green glimmer of magic. “Let’s pull that pin out now, shall we, Medea? Madam? You have been trying to test me this entire time, and I must say, I have had enough.” “Testing you?” Discord asked. “Mother, what have you been doing?” “I haven’t done anything to her.” “You’ve been dismissive of me and the company I keep for as long as you’ve heard me speak of it. You clearly heard me say not five minutes ago that I take care of every animal that comes my way and then you bring this poor little bird in front of me? How am I supposed to take that if it’s not some test?” Fluttershy asked. Medea snarled. “This doesn’t concern you. This is between my son and myself. Don’t think you can scare me: this isn’t fey ground. It’s some sort of trick, some artifact you’ve got stashed away in here. I have ways to get around that.” “Honestly, Missus Medea, I don’t think you’ve been really listening to me. You’ve been dismissing me from the start. Now, I think I have been very tolerant of your tone and your behaviour so far.” She waved her hoof, and the curtains opened again, back to their original colours. “I’ll admit, I do not know much about Discord’s past. Some of the things he’s done still confuse me, so I won’t pretend to know whether you were right or wrong in treating him the way you did. You do things differently, and there’s no point arguing about the past if you can’t change it. However, I put my hoof down at animal abuse.” Another wave of the hoof, and she changed the wallpaper back to how it was, overwriting even Discord’s changes. “That bird is suffering, and as such it belongs to me. Not you, not Discord, me. Give it to me now, or suffer the consequences.” Medea let out a mix of a lion’s growl, a dragon’s snarl, and a serpent’s hiss. “You insolent little.” She rose up, or tried to, at least, but found herself glued to the floor. Even swatting at the furniture didn’t help. “Do you have any idea what sort of power I wield? I am a supreme being! Do you really have no sense of respect, no sense of self-preservation? You think you can take that bird away from me, just like that? Whatever artifact you have won’t protect you forever.” Fluttershy sighed, before letting out a mildly mad chuckle. “Oh, Medea, can I call you Medea? I would take that bird away from you no matter what. It doesn’t matter how powerful you are, I would do it. You might say I can’t really help myself, it’s in my nature. And just so we’re clear: it wouldn’t be the first time I do that sort of thing, either,” Fluttershy replied, not breaking eye contact. “I’ve been doing naughty things like that since before I ever met your son, to beings I actually fear and respect, in fact.” Medea kept on struggling fruitlessly. She grabbed at the chair and found her front limbs stuck as well. She snorted the air. “T-this is impossible, your can’t hold me. These chairs are from the mortal realm. There’s no enchantment on this thing. I can’t smell any cloaking, either.” “No, you can’t, because there isn’t,” Fluttershy said with a smile. “There’s no magic on the table, or the chairs. But you know what we fey creatures like to say: it’s the things that aren’t magical that’ll get you. If you had been paying attention when I introduced myself you might have realised: I made my home in the mortal realm. This furniture was bought fairly, with gold. It is mortal-made, not enchanted…” She fixed Medea with a glare. “But still, mine. And they’ve been mine for long enough to matter, even to a being like you.” “But… m-my powers…” “Were allowed to be used as much as I saw fit. This is Discord’s home, yes. But you have to understand: you are a guest at my table. That is still my seat you are sitting on, and that is my table the bird is on. It’s mine by mundane, mortal rules, but still, the fey rules of ownership lie upon it. No matter how small it may be, you are on my domain right now, and you will leave when I allow it. You heard me: no animal that enters my domain hurt leaves it hurt. Now, I will ask one final time: relinquish that poor little bird, or I will be forced to humiliate you in front of your son.” Fluttershy gestured at Medea’s front paws to release them. Reluctantly, Medea slid Apus forward. The bird blinked, some relief in its eyes. “Very well, then. It’s all yours.” “Thank you. I will see to it this creature gets the care it needs.” Medea chuckled. “Of course you will: it’s in your nature. Well played, I must say. You’ve got a clever streak to you, Fluttershy, and the cunning to hide it. It’s been a long time since anyone got the drop on me.” She looked at Discord. “It’s rather nostalgic, in a way. Yes, I can see why my son likes you now.” Discord was eating his teacup by now. Medea looked down at the now completely empty platters of treats and the drained teapot. “Thank you for the tea, and for the talk. I think I can set my mind at ease about any progeny now: even if my son cannot tend to his own, at least the maternal side of the family will be a force to be reckoned with. Do let me know when you’re in the mood for some lessons on cruelty, would you?” “I don’t think that will be necessary.” “Strange sentiment from one such as yourself. You’re not the only archfey to have a sanctuary, or the first one to give me pause. Whether you realise it or not, cruelty is in your nature. After all, it’s the only real way to keep your property safe. Please do be careful if you ever venture outside of Equestria. You’ll find a lot of cruelty out there that can’t take root in your home. You would be ill-prepared to face it as a result.” “Cruelty such as yours?” “Indeed.” The sheepish nose curled with disgust. “That world is filled with repulsive magic. Repulsive to me, I mean. I almost managed to go on a trip there once, not too long ago. I couldn’t quite follow through, though, some odious weed managed to keep me out. Rest assured, I can appreciate a good show of force from time to time, you’ll have nothing to fear in terms of reprisal. In fact, I think you’ll fit into the family just fine after a lesson or two.” “A lesson or two. That’s not a bad idea, actually. Discord could use a few lessons on taking care of things. I’ll teach him how to tend to Apus first. When I know he can take care of an animal, I’ll have some reassurance on his fatherhood abilities,” Fluttershy said in a calm and deliberate tone. Medea’s smirk became a scowl now that she analysed the fey’s words more carefully. “We’ll see what happens. Ah, and I think I feel the stars shifting. Orion is pulling up his pants again. May I leave now?” “Swear that you will never harm anyone in my world.” Medea shrugged and put her paws on the table. “I swear, by the laws of your domain, before all the laws you maintain, that I shall never cause harm to any creature upon Equestria or any world bearing the traces of your dominion, either by action or inaction, by deed or by word, by myself or any indirect influence. How’s that?” “Surprisingly detailed.” “I told you: you’re not the first fey I’ve had to deal with,” Medea replied. “Rule-based magic is a such a drag to creatures like us, but we learn to adapt.” Fluttershy turned to her friend. “Discord?” “That’s a pretty standard oath with no loopholes, yes, every creature that deals with fey learns that one, word for word, it’s fine.” “Very well.” Fluttershy nodded. “You may leave my domain in peace.” “Leave in peace,” she nodded, mad smirk on her face. “Even your goodbye doesn’t leave any wiggle room. Thank you. Yes, I’m sure you’ll make my son’s life very... interesting.” With that, Medea was off, vanishing into a starburst. Discord choked on porcelain, before he vomited the whole teacup back up in one piece and placed it on the table. “You did it. You actually got mother to back off. Oh, and Apus, poor little birdie, let me get a good look at you, my old friend.” He reached for the cage, then froze when Fluttershy spoke. “Discord?” “Yes?” “Apus isn’t yours. He’s mine now, remember?” He turned to look at her, aghast. “Fluttershy?” She fixed him with a glare. “I said: he’s not yours anymore. He’s mine.”