Fate, it seemed, just couldn’t take a hint.
“Look, your Highness, with all due respect, we both know Princess Celestia is making an ass out of both of us here. Just… a country with a population of one is not a serious entity to establish relations with. Just go tell her that.”
“And I’ll tell you this again, ignorant peasant! I have been strictly instructed, by her Highness Princess Celestia, that I am to ask for credence as ambassador to this farce I find myself in! As much as I would like to depart your pigsty, the Princess did not instruct me to fail!”
Prince Blueblood was sitting opposite me, on the very same seat Celestia had taken her tea on just under a week ago. It was precisely one day after I got a country in the post courtesy of Swift Wings. The Prince was very, very unhappy with his situation. I wasn’t much better than him myself, in that regard at least.
It was not too pleasant outside – I was too far away for Las Pegasus, the closest big city, to bother sending their weather ponies my way, and the nearby hamlets didn’t have any spare pegasi, so the weather here did as it pleased. Natural thunderstorms in Equestria were rare, fortunately, so the worst of it was usually just a drenching. And right now, it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Naturally, Blueblood had the great misfortune to insist on an open-top flying carriage. I could only hope his guards weren’t as miserable as he was.
I can’t say I wasn’t warned, though. The Crown explicitly told me they’d be sending someone to ‘establish diplomatic relations’ with my sorry arse. Initially, I had assumed – and also hoped and prayed – that it was just a punchline, of sorts, a good quip from a bored ruler, and mostly forgotten about it. By now, though, I could only assume Celestia was planning to drag out this joke as long as she possibly could, far beyond the point at which it stopped being funny, and then a little bit beyond that. The reasoning behind it, though, remained a mystery to me. I guessed even physical deities needed to get their rocks off every now and then. Why not do it through me?
If I’d known it would mean dealing with Ambassador Blueballs, though, I’d have told her to shove off.
To say we had a history would be a bit misleading. I was made aware of him, and vice versa, by Celestia before we had met in person. I had assumed that, like her, Blueblood would be a wise, kindly sort, since Celestia did refer to him as her nephew; surely she must have taught him some manners! Then we actually met, and Blueblood turned out to be an enormous inflamed cock-end. The conversation didn’t last fifteen minutes before Royal Guards had to step in to make sure it wouldn’t devolve into a fistfight, and I was politely escorted away soon after. I declined a second meeting.
And lo and behold, here he was again, giving me the shock of my life, knocking on my door and telling me Mummy Dearest herself sent him to be the ambassador of Equestria to the Free State.
By this point, my head was in my hands, my half-finished afternoon coffee already merely lukewarm. Blueblood declined any beverage, naturally, because lower class scum, or something to that effect. My coffee, though, didn’t seem to have much effect on the headache he had given me. I was practically despairing at having to listen to more of his drivel, so I chose to try again with a different topic.
“Fine,” I said, tiredly. “Let’s… just shelve this topic for now. If everyone is so dead-set on acting like this shambles is totally legitimate. What, exactly, does Celestia hope to gain from you being here? Why send you?”
“Hmm.” Blueblood seemed to put some thought into it, apparently discarding his earlier vitriol. “I haven’t the foggiest idea, actually. My diplomatic abilities are largely concerned with fellow nobility; statecraft is a mostly unrelated field. Perhaps her Highness wished me to gain some experience in this matter? I can’t for the life of me imagine why she would choose this occasion for it, though...” His expression slowly turned more and more inward. I already had an inkling of the real answer, though: it would have gotten Blueballs out of Celestia’s hair for a good long while, and would annoy me in the process. Another win-win for the Equestrian Crown.
Well fuck you too, Celly. I’ll have to ask her for wages for my babysitting.
“If that’s the case, then she’s fooling herself.” Blueblood shrugged out of it, looking back up to me with a quizzical expression as I spoke. “The purpose of sending an ambassador to a foreign state is to represent the sender’s interests in that country, to act as a communication channel between the two governments, and usually to improve relations between the two. You being here, right now, does none of these things.”
“Quite right,” he nodded at me, to my surprise. He didn’t even look offended. “Equestria has no reason to send diplomats to itself, and-”
“That’s not what I mean,” I cut him off. He still didn’t take offense, which I took a moment to marvel at. “Remember, Celestia is acting like this is the real deal, and that means so do you, since you’re technically now under her employ. According to her, this is an independent state.” I counted off from my fingers. “First: represent Equestrian interests in this state. What interests? I’m pretty sure that you’re the only Equestrian here, right now, barring me for obvious reasons. Does the Crown want more wood than its eighty-five forests can provide? Of course not. Equestrian interests would best be served if this was still Equestria, and it’s not. So that’s a moot point.
“Second: provide a point of contact for our government to yours, and vice versa. Celestia and I already exchange mail regularly, and before you ask, yes, that does include official government business.” A slight exaggeration – it had only really happened by mail once, five days ago. I just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “She even visits me here in person. If she wants to talk to me, she can damn well make time to do it herself.
“And third: improve relations.” I let my hand fall and gave Blueblood a flat look. “I’ll be honest, your Highness. You are not a very pleasant person to be around, something I think our first meeting proved to me already. So far, you have been deliberately offensive, demeaning, holier-than-thou to me, and very little else; if this is how you continue to act, then I will start taking it as a diplomatic insult, and I’ll personally send your arse packing back to Canterlot, where you will have to explain to your beloved auntie how you were declared persona non grata because you just couldn’t stop slagging me off.” My look turned frosty. “I happen to be a close personal friend of Princess Celestia; we’re both on a first-name basis with each other, in private. How do you think she’s going to take your... indiscretion?”
“...I see.” Blueblood was being unusually quiet. Had I actually managed to get through to him? “I never expected to be taught diplomacy by a mere country peasant.”
Never mind.
“First time for everything,” I muttered, standing up from my chair and beelining for my emergency stash. It might have been a little too early for drinking, but honestly, after even twenty minutes of his whining – and I had wasted a lot more than that with him – I was about ready to toss him off a cliff. Or, failing that, myself. Alcohol was… a preferable alternative, if not a healthy one.
"Fuck it all to hell." This joke of hers was starting to wear thin. I might well have considered that its only purpose was to shunt off Blueblood to a punishment duty, and that my ill-fated declaration was just a convenient excuse for it, if the explanation didn't make Celly out to be so mean-spirited. Besides, she was the head of a millennia-old state herself: something so drastic as the birth of a nation under a literal dimensional outsider is not the kind of thing competent statesmen would ever even conceive of, let alone carry out with such infuriating vigour.
A bottle of my speciality found itself into my hands as I pondered. I didn't want any of this! I didn't want to be a monarch, or a president or whatever, I didn't want to deal with Blueblood's shit! Was it really too much to ask for a quiet, peaceful life in a cabin in the woods? I had half a mind to tell Glueblood to piss off and call up Celestia to yell at her until this shit all went back to normal.
It took distressingly little time to discard the notion. Even if Blueblood listened to me, even if Celestia listened to me, there's no way the universe would let me off so easily. Not after the trouble it already went to. In this world, being pulled into another situation where a position of power was thrust onto me was a depressingly possible eventuality. If I didn’t get shunted off into another, worse world, that is.
"What is that?" Blueblood asked, as I sat down and poured myself a tiny glass of my spirit. The liquid plopped into the cup, the sound of which made him recoil. "Is that some kind of yokel specialty?" His eyes studied the glass carefully, and soon widened. "Is it... it's green?"
"And guaranteed to knock you on your arse." I had to pour it into the rest of my coffee, which had by now cooled down to room temperature, to make sure it would even pretend to be palatable. "Except if you weigh less than fifty kilograms, like most of you do. 'Cause if you do, it'll kill ya!" I gave a mock-toast with my coffee mug, and downed as much of it as I could stomach – one sip, about a fifth of the contents.
It was not a good idea, in all honesty.
"Is this truly all you do, here?" Blueblood asked, disturbed, as I hacked my lungs out, trying to get the burn out of my throat. "How much of your crops do you eat, and how much do you drink?"
I waved my free hand at him dismissively, my other pounding at my chest. All I could do was sputter and groan. Fuck, but that tasted awful. Worse than usual, I mean. Black Tail Ale was generally an unpleasant experience at the best of times – coffee, evidently, didn't mix well with it.
"Bleh. Best not try that again," I said to myself, getting my throat under control again. "And no, Blueblood, believe it or not but I don't actually get pissed up every other day. Most of my liqueur goes to trade, and most of what little I keep is far too strong for me to drink regularly. It's more of a rainy day fund, really, if my bits ever run dry. Besides, the really good stuff isn't made from my crops anyway."
Blueblood shook his head. As I stood up, collecting my two cups from the table, so did he, rising along and preening himself with his magic. He called out behind me. "Well, this has been a most productive day, hasn't it, mister Inns?"
"Quite so," I said, pouring the contents of my mug into the sink, and tossing the empty cups in with them. "Has the rain let up yet? I'd be glad to see your arse packing home."
"As I have already made clear, mister Inns," he said, moving closer to me so as not have to raise his voice, which had now become strained. "I am to serve as the Equestrian ambassador here. I cannot do that from Canterlot."
"Yes, you have made that clear," I said lowly, now losing my patience, not bothering to face him.
"I can only do that while I am here."
"Quite right."
"Which I can only do if you accept my letter of credence."
"Yep."
"So will you?"
"No."
"And whyever not?"
"Because I don't want to!" I exploded, spinning on my heel and stalking my way over to Blueblood, looming over him with all my height. Ponies really were quite short. "I don't fucking want to have to deal with any of this bullshit! Yes, it was funny the first time, Celly; it was funny to see the phrase Awesome Humanity on government documentation, and it was funny to refer to myself as Supreme Overlord and have it technically mean something, but I have long since stopped laughing! Because let me tell you something, Mister Blueblood, the joke wore out the second you walked up and knocked on my door, and I can assure you, insisting on continuing your fucking bullshit is doing you no favours. So I kindly ask you, now, to get out of my house, get out of my 'country,' and piss off!"
Silence filled the cabin as my tirade tapered off. I found that I had backed Blueblood into a corner of the hallway, right in front of my front door; he looked just about ready to faint from fright. That, or try bucking my head clean off. He wouldn't bother using his magic; the first meeting had shown him why.
I stepped back, willing myself to breathe slowly and calm my heart rate. I screwed my eyes shut, rubbing at them with a hand, trying to sort out my thoughts. Neither of us spoke for a long while. I saw Blueblood walk past me slowly, apparently doing some sort of breathing exercise. I chose to stay near the door.
And good thing too, as just as I was about to open my mouth, yet another knock came from it.
"Great, more bozos," I said, just loud enough for Blueblood to hear. Not bothering to disguise my grimace at the thought of even more unwanted visitors, I quickly unlatched the door and opened it.
My hand fell from the door-handle. Before even spotting the pony right in front of me, I saw four huge pony-drawn carriages milling around, each with a few workers apparently unloading them. The rain had thankfully tapered off, leaving the ground a sodden, muddy mess, yet the earth ponies didn't seem too concerned, or even like they were being slowed down much. One cart already had its contents strewn across a sheet of fabric on the ground, and soon began to disassemble before my eyes. Only a small part of it was due to unicorn magic: three ponies were banging their hooves across it in a strange pattern, somehow causing the planks that made it up to simply fall away from each other.
The sound of a throat clearing brought me back to my porch. In front of me stood a pony, a tall mare with a dark coat and mane, covered in a raincoat and hat that spoke of a distinctly pegasus way of thinking. Her brow twitched, and I realised that I had been staring.
"Oh! My apologies, madam... erm, oh, please, do come in!" I eventually regained my mental footing, quickly ushering my impatient guest inside. She pulled off her rain clothes by hoof, revealing her wings... even with what little I knew, they didn't look to me to be in great shape. I made a note of her cutie mark, which appeared to be two crossed hammers; not something I’d have expected on a pegasus. She cordially invited herself into my living room, where Blueblood took one look at her and immediately dismissed her as unimportant. She did not return the favour.
"Lord Commissioner. A distinct pleasure."
Having written her off, Blueblood was taken off guard by her apparently knowing his profession. "Ah, and a likewise pleasure, miss...?"
Neither did she return his greeting, turning instead to face me. I had to bite my lip to stifle a laugh at Blueblood's incensed expression, one even I hadn't seen before. I refocused quickly, as she trotted up to me and offered a hoof, which I shook quickly. "My name is Sturdy Construct. It's a pleasure to meet you." Her words held a certain warmth that was lacking earlier, with Blueblood. Not much of it, mind, but enough that I got the impression that I was at least better regarded than him. I could only raise an eyebrow.
"The pleasure is all mine. I hope your journey here wasn't terribly unpleasant." I led her to the kitchen. Blueblood decided to stay where he was, inspecting my living room apparently out of having nothing better to do with his time, which was perfectly fine by me. "Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, water? Rot-gut?"
Construct threw me an odd look. "Rot-gut?"
"Personally approved by Princess Celestia herself!" I nodded eagerly. "Well, about eighteen hours after she drank it. That ought to give you some idea of what it is, actually."
She recoiled, disturbed, at my words. "Right... I think I'll be fine."
"Suit yourself." I offered her a chair at the dining table, which she gladly took. I remained standing. "So, now that's all out of the way, I have to ask, with all respect, what in the fuck is going on outside my house?"
Construct’s lips twitched up, briefly, before her expression was swallowed by an all-consuming professional demeanour. "My company has been selected, by decree of the Crown, to assist in developing your territory here, in accordance with Section Three, Paragraph Twenty-Nine, Part Thirteen of the Habitation Safety Regulations of the ESPHA, in order to make this area suitable for general habitation."
"...Okay?" The legalese mainly passed me by, but I thought I got the gist. "So, what, you're here to build houses so that other people can live here?"
"Among other things, yes," Construct confirmed with a small, knowing smile. "That is the broad strokes."
I simply frowned, an uneasy feeling coming over me. "Right. Incidentally, has the Crown told you anything about where we are now?"
"No, nopony has," she said, back to a carefully neutral look. "Is there something I should know?"
"You mean you don't know you're technically not in Equestria right now?"
A pregnant silence ensued. I waited patiently for a response, though Construct appeared to simply sit there and stare at me. It occurred to me after a little too long that she might not exactly have believed me; the idea made me sigh in resignation.
"Blueblood?" I called over her head. "Get over here and tell the young lady what you're here for, would you kindly?"
A snort of disgust emanated from the living room, shortly followed by the royal jackass himself. To his credit, he didn't seem outwardly pissed off, aside from a twitch in his eye that could easily be mistaken for mere irritation. "Miss Construct?" he began, drawing to a stop next to me, facing her from her side. "I am here on behalf of the Crown, with instructions to establish diplomatic relations between the Principality of Equestria and the Free State." Mercifully, he left the second part of the name out. "Overlord Inns received the official recognition only a week ago, but nevertheless you are, in fact, in Free State territory, as decreed by the Office of the Celestial Diarchy."
I had to give the man – excuse me, pony – props: he knew his way around words. As soon as the word 'office' left his lips, Construct's eyes widened, and darted across to me. When I nodded, she all but threw herself off her chair and prostrated herself before me. “Oh Celestia, I didn’t…” Her words were faintly muffled, on account of her speaking into the floorboards. “Please, Overlord, I apologi-”
“Pick yourself up, would ye?” I barked, irritated, at which she immediately complied, moving so fast as to seemingly appear standing, rather than having moved at all. Her eyes – a distracting shade of cyan, I noted idly – were wide, and shined with unspilled tears. “First, don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna bite yer head off for acting like a normal person. Second, don’t call me Overlord. Right now, I’m trying just about my damnedest to fob this whole sorry business away from me.”
“Huh?” The terror on Construct’s face melted away, into something rather more baffled. “Away? But… the Diarchy decreed it! How could you-”
I interrupted again. “It was a joke. I made a joke to some guards, and they took it seriously, called Celestia, and I guess she decided to turn it back on me.”
“Overlord Inns,” spoke Blueblood, “seems unable to accept his new position as ruler. He happens to be a close friend of her Highness; perhaps he sees it as creating a wedge between them? Or perhaps the facetiousness from which his position was created chafes against his dignity.”
I shook my head, snorting through my nose. Blueblood was spot on, annoyingly, though of course he didn’t catch on to the fact Celestia was the one making the wedge in the first place. Him continuing to call me Overlord didn’t help, either.
A silence descended upon us, each contemplating something or another. I could speak for neither of my temporary companions, but personally, I was getting close to my boiling point. In all honesty, I was never terribly good with people. I tolerated Celestia primarily because she knew, or had learned at some point, of my introversion, and often acted around it when she visited. A majority of her visits over my time here consisted of us two reading in my living room, or taking a walk, in silence, or at least over very unserious topics or small talk. Sometimes she had more to discuss, which was fine by me as long as it wasn’t too often. Rarely, even I had to let off steam about something or other, which was also fine by her.
Neither Blueblood nor Construct were bound by the same convention. The former mostly because he was an arsehole, and the latter because I had met her less than fifteen minutes ago and didn’t know how I ticked, and might not care even if she did. None of that was their fault, naturally, and I knew that well enough, but it didn’t stop me from chafing. I might well have spoken more this week than I did in the last two months. I had half a mind just to capitulate to Blueblood, just to get the two stooges out of my house. Unbelievable.
Yet more knocking on my door brought me out of my musings. I swear to God, I’m just about ready to start snapping bones in half, and no mistake! I stalked over to my door and threw it open violently, gritting my teeth all the while. The pony that was revealed behind it shrunk back before my less-than-friendly glare, which soon melted away when I realised how frightened I was making the poor thing.
“Sorry,” I said to them – no, her – automatically, with almost-sincere remorse. “Not your fault, I’ve just had a long… hmm, two hours or so. What can… uh...”
I was sidetracked by the sight behind her. The carriages were gone, a single neat pile of variously-sized wooden planks and beams taking their place, next to a haphazard pile of miscellaneous tools, gadgets and other items, most of which I couldn’t even guess the purpose behind. About a dozen tents had sprung up since I had invited Sturdy Construct in, just over ten minutes ago, with about twice as many ponies milling about them aimlessly, their work apparently complete. A few of them had stopped to stare at me, being close enough to hear the slam of my door as I flung it open.
“I’m… sorry to bother you, sire…” The pony before me regained my attention, speaking in a low voice, with head bowed, that reminded me of a pauper begging for change on the pavement. “But… I was hop- …wondering, if you could… ah, perhaps…?”
“Hey.” I knelt down, hoping and praying I was speaking in a reassuring tone of voice. Darn it, but ponies could be just the cutest things sometimes, and this one was tugging at my heartstrings something fierce. “Relax, I ain’t gonna bite ya.” I reached out to ruffle her off-white mane – no, that was just a highlight, the mane was actually cyan – carefully avoiding touching her horn. She shuddered faintly when my hand made contact, but soon she was leaning into it, eyes closed in contentment. “See? No harm done. Now, you just settle down, yeah, and tell me what’cha want.”
The mare’s eyes remained closed, as I kept stroking her, hoping I came off as comforting. “Well… I was just following the caravan heading this way, looking for somewhere to stay, and it stopped here...” Words seemed to tumble forth from her without her input. “And I thought that they’d have a good reason to stop here, and I… um.” She finally opened her eyes, prompting me to pull my hand back. Desperation was writ large on her face. “Nopony here was willing to let me sleep in their tents, and I was, um, wondering...”
“You have nowhere to sleep?” I prodded. The mare scrunched her eyes shut again, breathing in and out shakily, before nodding once. I looked up to the sky: the afternoon had passed into evening, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting brilliant crimson hues across the few patches of open sky not smothered by clouds. I had spent longer talking with Blueblood and Construct than I had thought, it seemed.
“I’m really sorry to have to ask you this, sire…” Her voice was tempered with so much defeat that it made my eyes sting. “But I really have nothing else-”
“What’s your name, dear?” I asked, standing up to my full height. Her eyes fluttered open, locked back on me, and I couldn’t dare to not return my gaze on those shimmering orbs. I didn’t think myself a very empathetic sort; what on Earth was this pony doing to me? Could some sad pony really reduce me to so little?
“Lyra,” she finally returned, whisper-quiet. I nodded to myself.
“Well, Lyra. I’m not heartless enough to allow someone to sleep out in the open like you, especially with the sort of weather we’ve been having here.” With every word I spoke, her eyes lit up brighter and brighter. “Why don’t you come inside, and I’ll see what I can do for ya, eh?”
Honest to God, this mare squealed like a busted radio when I finished talking. I had to rub at my ears to deal with the feedback those vocal chords blasted into them. Neither was the rest of me safe from her assault, Lyra latching onto my chest with her legs with all the force of a hydraulic press, forcing me to rebalance myself lest her weight make me faceplant onto the ground and crush her under me. I had to move to support her against me, which soon turned into a reciprocal hug once I started processing the relief-wracked sobs coming out of her. Christ, what was wrong with this woman?
“Thank you, thank you, thank you...” She kept repeating those two words, over and over, in between huge, shaky gasps for breath, and equally shaky, cathartic chuckles that spoke, loud and clear, of some great calamity finally coming to an end for this poor soul.
In the end, I had to carry her inside, dutifully ignoring the looks ponies outside were throwing me. Blueblood was back in my living room, perusing my bookshelf with uncharacteristic interest. Construct was still in the kitchen, gulping down a glass of some liquid I couldn’t identify, but at least was colourless. Both of them turned to my direction, as I set Lyra down under the arch that served to connect the two rooms.
“Who is this?” both Blueblood and Construct said in unison, making me smirk. Lyra just kept sniffing and wiping her eyes dry.
When I opened my mouth to tell them, though, I paused. Somehow, introducing her as merely ‘Lyra’ felt like a disservice to her, despite it literally being her name. It felt weird to even consider, but… I felt like I had known her for a lot longer than the three minutes I actually did.
Assuming this wasn’t some sort of ploy (which I could do safely, considering she was a pony), I could infer some sort of bad thing having happened to her, at some point before now. Perhaps recently, perhaps not, perhaps for most or all of her life. She simply reeked of desperation – not that she needed to, I considered. Coming all this way, presumably all the way from Canterlot if this Construct and her caravan was to be believed, in weather like what we just had not an hour ago, just for a chance that something might go right for her at their destination… few people, ponies or otherwise, did that sort of thing just for shits and giggles.
She was awfully timid, too, I realised in a flash. I’m… sorry to bother you, sire…But… I was hoping… wondering, if you could… ah, perhaps…? The picture being painted in my mind was not a pretty one. Lyra latched on to me with all the force of a hydraulic press… After simply being told she could spend a night indoors?
I could only look down on her with pity. For me, sleeping indoors was just something I assumed automatically. It was no big deal, after all, merely one of the axioms of civilised life – or so I had thought. Even back home, I was not so naïve to think that tragedy wasn’t a part of life, that beggars and the homeless were simply myth, that humanity was above prejudice and hatred against people who had done nothing to deserve it – but Equestria was a better place than that, and as much as it galled me to admit, ponies were better people than us. And yet, here a mare stood before me, blinking tears away because a complete stranger (in quite possibly every sense of the term) deigned to treat her with even a tiny sliver of decency. It shouldn’t have been that way. Not here. And yet…
And then, before I could peel myself away from her and actually answer the question I had been posed… Lyra gave me a smile. It was a smile so brilliant, so joyous, so total, that it just about stopped my heart. One final thought hit me, then, that I had helped this woman when she needed it most, and I saw then what Celestia, perhaps, had meant for me to do with what she had given me: to help. The smile Lyra had given me, and still continued to give, told me I had just changed the direction of her life, for the better. I had started helping her out of what could possibly have been the lowest point of her whole life. And it was all because I let her into my house for the night.
I imagined, then, how many lives I could change with an entire nation behind me.
I stood up from where I had laid Lyra down, ruffling her mane one more time, again carefully avoiding her horn. Adjusting my glasses, I looked first to Blueblood, then to Construct, then back to Lyra, and finally, grudgingly, back to Blueblood.
“Blueblood,” I called, and he trotted over, clearly confused. I spoke as if on autopilot, trusting in my new course with absolute conviction. “Let Princess Celestia know that I formally accept your diplomatic credence. You have my blessing to officially establish a diplomatic mission of Equestria to the Free State.” His eyes lit up in satisfaction, and he nodded to me, twice, before heading for the exit. I found, to my surprise, that not even letting him win so blatantly dampened my newfound soaring mood. “Construct,” I continued. “Likewise to you. Do whatever you have to do, you and yours. Oh, actually,” I snapped my fingers as a thought came to me, “I’d like a report on exactly what you plan to do here before you start, at your earliest convenience.” Construct nodded, and set off to follow Blueblood out of my house.
“And me?” asked Lyra, looking up to me with worried eyes. I met her gaze evenly, and smiled knowingly.
“Do you have anywhere else to go? Any friends or family that might miss you?” Lyra shook her head, lowering her eyes to the floor in sorrow. “Nothing? Not even a home to go back to?”
“...no...” came a mumble. I knelt down and scratched the top of her head, until she looked back up to me with shiny eyes. All the while, the same kind smile adorned my face.
“Would you like to stay here?”
A breath hitched in her throat. It took a few tries for her to start up again. “I… stay here?”
“More than just stay, in fact,” I agreed. “How does a Free State citizenship sound, to you?”
And for the longest moment of my life, Lyra made not a sound, and not a move – except for her eyes, which seemed to quake with emotion. I saw pools of liquid gather at their corners, which soon burst into streaks trailing down her cheeks. Her jaw broke first, moving up and down soundlessly, snapping shut just as the rest of her came to life – and Lyra mashed her eyes shut and threw herself into me, damn near bawling her eyes out.
All I could think to do in that moment was to stroke her back, whispering words of comfort in her ear, letting her work her emotions out.
It sounded so silly, in hindsight, offering a pony a citizenship of a country with a population of two, but right then I couldn’t give a toss about anything else. I had helped somebody who, by all accounts, had badly needed it. I had helped.
And I was damned if I was going to stop there.