//------------------------------// // Solene's Crippling Alektorophobia // Story: Honeymoon Phase // by UnknownError //------------------------------// "...Yes," Celestia said after a moment. "She was." The mare turned away from the display case and waited for the courier to trot up to them. She imagined her flank jiggling. Or perhaps she did not imagine it and her heavy suns actually did jiggle. Cursed cake, Celestia snorted to herself. Should've just kept spiking my tea with moonshine... She glared to the right and inadvertently received a shaft of sunlight directly into her bloodshot eyes. She shifted her glare downwards. The pegasus guard with the newspapers flinched and dropped into a heavy bow, groveling at her hooves. The papers fell to the floor again. “Forgive me, Princess.” Celestia took a deep breath and fought past the hornache to recall the pony’s name. Why did I ever agree to that enchantment that made them all look the same? “Sergeant Arrowhead?” the Princess guessed. The pony nodded from the hallway floor. Good job, Huitzy. Senile old nag recalled something right. Celestia tried to shift her grimace to something passably friendly. “Rise,” she forced out. The sergeant did so slowly, not meeting the Princess’ eyes. Most ponies did not actually look Celestia in the eye when standing; it was awkward to crane their necks high enough to stare up at her muzzle. The more polite ponies stared at the jewels in her golden carcanet; the less polite stared at the dinner-plate sized suns on her flank if they could. Oh, that’s right. Celestia suddenly remembered why the guards looked alike through the hornache. The old orgies. She kept her lips tight to stop that information slipping through. Most guards believed it helped protect their identities like they were heroes in Spike’s comic books. “P-princess,” Arrowhead stuttered, “forgive the intrusion, but the perimeter staff were concerned. The press core has assembled outside the front gate.” “The what?” Celestia asked with a sigh. “Every reporter in the city has assembled into a militia,” Sergeant Nocturne explained, trotting up beside the Day Guard. “They’re besieging the castle, Princess.” The bat-winged pegasus stood next to the normal pegasus, lifting up a newspaper with bared fangs. “Equestria Daily is building a ram,” Arrowhead replied. Celestia did not dignify that with a response. “Several guards have been blinded by the continuous camera flashes,” Nocturne continued. “They want to see the new royal couple.” He considered his words. “Well, it’s more of a demand.” Prince Jungle Trek whistled. “Am I popular?” “Your approval rating is currently at 87, my Prince,” Arrowhead reported dutifully. Celestia’s muzzle twitched. “Show me.” Nocturne turned the newspaper around with a nervous whicker. He held it up as a shield. The Canterlot Herald had gotten a photograph of the wedding. In fact, it appeared that Celestia and her husband had posed for a photograph just after the ceremony. Both ponies had vacant eyes and slow smiles, clearly sauced out of their minds. Jungle Trek at least had a far-eyed expression of nervous terror, seeing through the camera to the fourth dimension. Celestia assessed her past gaze as a drunken leer; it wasn’t even a particularly good drunken leer, and the Princess had hunched down to be in the same photo as her husband. Sergeant Nocturne cleared his throat. “Ah, the Moonspeaker’s daughter took the photo. The Canterlot Herald won the bidding war early this morning. Princess Luna has informed the Night Guard the family has already fled to Las Pegasus with several hundred thousand bits.” “Fled?” Jungle Trek asked nervously. “I-I mean, was it illegal or something to marry—” “No,” Nocturne shook his head, “but Thestrals have developed a keen sense of danger over the years.” Swift Swing stared out one of the windows. “Looks like a couple of the journos teamed up and are building a siege tower to bypass the front gate,” she commented. The alicorn with the wedding dress in the photo had wrapped her wing possessively around the earth pony next to her. In the hallway, Celestia wrapped her wing around Jungle Trek for balance as she tried to read the headline. Forbidden Love! The Princess Marries Commoner- “I hate those ponies,” Celestia said aloud before she could stop herself. Prince Jungle Trek looked over the paper. “Seems positive,” he said vaguely with a hoof twirl. “My Prince, they are calling you ‘Star Trek’ and refer to you as a unicorn.” The earth pony waved a hoof. “It’s, uh, fine.” “Summarize the situation,” Celestia requested with a dry rasp. “The proletariat papers applaud the Princess marrying an underprivileged earth pony,” Arrowhead flipped through his stack of papers. “The noble-aligned papers think the pith helmet is hiding a horn. The republicans think it’s a popularity play to shore up your falling approval rating.” Jungle Trek lifted his pith helmet and showed off his wavy brown mane. “No horn,” he chuckled uneasily. "That's easy to disprove." "So you'd think," Celestia sighed. Arrowhead bit his lip. “Raven and Kibbutz are waiting on an official comment, but—" “I’m running late,” Celestia said for him. “It’s a long hallway and I’m hungover.” Everypony recoiled in shock. Celestia squinted at them. Her mane and tail wriggled limply, like worms caught on a fishhook. The alicorn attempted to remember the last time her staff caught her doing something inappropriate. Cake binge? Or that modeling? The Princess sighed. “Continue, my little ponies. I’ll give a statement—” A door to one of the ambassadorial suites abruptly burst open ahead of the group. Nocturne and Arrowhead spun around with raised wings, only to see a maid wrestling with a frumpy pillowcase. They relaxed. The maid spied the Princess and reflexively bowed, releasing the pillowcase. There was a muffled squawk. The chicken burst free from its makeshift confinement and locked eyes with Celestia. She froze. Her queasy stomach hardened into ice in an instant, but the temperature in the hallway rose by two digits in the time it took to blink. Her headache intensified into an inferno, and Celestia cut the fireball off before it could even form above her horn. The chicken beelined away from the maid, flailing down the hallway with panicked clucking. The sound reverberated in the alicorn’s skull and her eyes dilated. Her mane and tail whipped about in a sudden frenzy. Jungle Trek squeaked as Celestia’s wing tightened around him. The foul beast ran straight for the group. “I’m sorry!” the maid screamed. “Somepony brought it in from the menagerie!” “There aren’t any chickens in the menagerie!” Long Spear said. The earth pony sat on his flank and held out his forelegs, attempting to catch the chicken like a goalie. Celestia saw the beady eyes narrow in slow-motion. The chicken tensed and flapped its wings, landing atop the earth pony’s helmet as his forelegs caught empty air. The chicken was nearly eye-level with the alicorn, perched atop the helmet. It clucked. Celestia screamed and flung her husband at the fowl. Prince Jungle Trek bowled into Corporal Long Spear in a twisting mass of earth pony hooves. Pith helmet and guard helmet rolled away in opposite directions. The alicorn reared up in an instinctive pose to appear larger, tossing her head wildly. Her tiara went flying with a shattering of glass. The chicken saw the chance to escape and took it. It launched itself just before the collision, flapping up towards the alicorn’s muzzle. Celestia’s scream cut off with a choke. Her treacherous mane, limp and wriggling, betrayed her. The poultry was caught in the tangle of wild hairs that whipped ahead of her muzzle from behind. The chicken flailed, tugging on her scalp. The beak and sharp, rending talons were within reach of her neck and major arteries. Celestia felt a ratty feather trace itself across her throat. The alicorn, hungover and off-balance, teetered on her hind legs and waved her forelegs about in blind terror. Her remaining guards attempted to steady the Princess, but it was all for naught. The chicken’s beak swung up, peaking through the wavy rainbow locks. It clucked again. Princess Celestia was not Fluttershy, but she imagined what it was saying: "The hour is nigh." Celestia tripped over her own tail and crashed backwards. She landed on something sharp and something hard, barely registering a wheeze from behind her. She rolled off the shapes, hyperventilating and punching wildly at her own mane. A few moments later, she realized the dry, rattling wail filling the hallway was coming from her throat. “Getitoff getitoff getitoff getitoff getitoff getitoff!” Celestia felt something in her horn give just before something else hit the chicken tangled in her mane. There was a single desperate squawk, then the hallway was silent except for her own breathing. Celestia rolled to her hooves and whipped her head around violently, finally dislodging the foul fowl and sending it careening into the wall with a splat of feathers. She would have vomited if anything had been left in her stomach. The Princess dry-heaved and blinked watery eyes. Pink framed her vision and her eyes were blurry. “Princess!” Sergeant Nocturne shouted. At the same time, Arrowhead whinnied, “Prince!” Celestia brushed her hoof against her suddenly limp and cooperative hair, brushing it away from her horn to see. She first noticed she had lost her horseshoe, and her tiara had shattered an empty display case from her panicked rear. The rack inside was empty except for her upside-down crown. Hard Point groaned behind her and was pulled to his hooves by Swift Wing. The two guards’ armor was crumpled, and it took Celestia a moment to connect the bruising on her heavy suns to the dents in their armor as she fell atop them. Celestia’s eyes stopped on her long pink tail. It was entirely pink, and entirely normal. She blinked, then swished it across the floor. “Princess?” Sergeant Nocturne asked in front of her. Celestia turned her head back and registered the weight of her mane for the first time in decades. She brushed her foreleg forward and stared at the pink locks. They were full of split-ends and dirty, but hung limply like any other mane. I burned myself out like a foal, Celestia realized. She giggled. Or rather, she attempted to giggle, but her throat was dry and it came out as a throaty chuckle that made Nocturne’s ears pin back. Jungle Trek staggered back to his hooves, helped up by Arrowhead. Celestia looked over Nocturne’s wings. “Are you all right, husband?” the alicorn asked in a raspy whicker. “Sorry about that.” Jungle Trek wheezed. “P-princess?” Nocturne asked for the third time. Celestia stood up with a low groan. Her entire body hurt now, and it made the pain from her headache paradoxically less meaningful. She shook out her legs. “I am…” the mare paused, searching for the poultry. The chicken was limp and dead next to the display case. “I’m fine, Sergeant.” An earth pony in maid frills rushed up the group, dancing on her hooves. “Oh, Sweet Celestia! I-I mean, C-Celestia! Uh, P-princess!” The mare breathed rapidly and her pink fur began to turn purple. “Slow down,” Celestia coughed. It took the mare several tries to obey. She sagged to her hooves. “I-I am so sorry. I’ve been trying to catch her all morning a-and she j-just slipped away!” “It’s not from the gardens,” Nocturne rubbed his muzzle with a hoof. “Did one of the guests bring a chicken?” “I-I don’t know.” “Doesn’t matter,” Celestia sighed. She shuddered at the carcass. “Please, forgive me, Princess,” Long Spear said uneasily. He lowed a broken staff to the floor and bowed properly. The earth pony’s ears pinned back. “I acted rashly.” “You ignored the Prince and nearly stabbed the Princess!” Arrowhead neighed. Prince Jungle Trek inspected his pith helmet and rented tuxedo for damage. Amazingly, he only needed to reroll his sleeves after being flung by an alicorn. Celestia grimaced, thinking of the dusty gym room she hadn’t been in for a decade. She eyed the broken staff, recognizing the aged, ashen bark. Her frown twisted into a rueful grin. “Did you pry it out of the display case?” “It, uh, fell and rolled out when your tiara…” Long Spear trailed off. Celestia limped over and scooped the stave up with a wing. She chucked it back into the glass shards, then levitated her tiara out slowly and shook it before placing it back under her horn. “It was already broken,” she dismissed, “and more appropriate than you know.” “The Staff of Wabbajack,” Swift Wing said from behind the alicorn. “This madness is certainly worthy of Discord.” “He wouldn’t dare put a chicken near me,” Celestia muttered. She turned a narrowed eye to Arrowhead. “Find out who let a chicken into the castle. They are banned for life.” “I…” Arrowhead hesitated. He bowed. “As you command, Princess.” “Princess, your mane,” Nocturne stated. He waved a bat wing at the hair trailing on the floor. Even while the alicorn stood at her tallest, her tail pooled around her rear hooves, and the ends of her mane dragged on the ground. "It does that sometimes," Celestia grunted. "I-it does?" Swift Wing whispered uncertainly behind the alicorn. Prince Jungle Trek moved the rim of his helmet over his eyes. “Somehow this feels inappropriate.” The stallions in the group seemingly concurred and looked away. Long Spear remained bowed on the floor, eyes averted and sad. Celestia’s horn throbbed and her left wing was stiff from the fall, so the alicorn wrapped her mane around her forelegs and started to weave it based off muscle memory. She found herself humming an old song. It helped with the headache. After a minute and a half, Celestia flung her braided mane back over her back. She leaned around and used her horn to weave her tail. When it was done, she had a lengthy, but manageable pink mane and tail. They still look ratty and full of split-ends. Celestia still grinned at them. “Woah,” Swift Wing whickered. “That was fast.” “I’m out of practice,” Celestia returned. “I used to be able to do this—” Her jaw snapped shut before she could finish. On the battlefield to weave in a new ring or feather. “I used to go much faster,” she clarified vaguely after swallowing. “I’m sorry, Princess,” Long Spear said again from the ground. “For what, my little pony?” Celestia asked with a sigh. “You defended me.” “I…” Long Spear’s muzzle scrunched, “I k-killed the chicken, Princess. I d-didn’t mean to hit it that hard.” Celestia looked back to the body slumped beside the display case. Huh. Thought I killed it. Can’t even manage to kill a chicken myself, can I? Good job, Huitzy. Arrowhead stepped forward. “Princess, Corporal Long Spear shall be reprimanded for excessive force—" Celestia snorted. “Stand up. You saved your Princess from a foul fowl.” Sergeant Nocturne frowned. “Princess Celestia, he still…killed…it.” Huitzy chuckled again and her horn glowed. The limp carcass of the chicken was tossed to the maid’s hooves. The mare froze with wide eyes. “A murder most fowl,” Huitzy laughed. “Have the kitchens turn it into soup.” She glanced around at the group. The hallway was silent with wide eyes. Princess Celestia realized she just tossed a corpse at one of her maids. She sucked in a breath. For a moment, the alicorn battled with her hangover’s inclination to roll her eyes and trudge onward. “Bury the chicken in the garden,” Celestia rephrased. “Record a minor infraction for excessive force,” she said to Arrowhead. The pegasus nodded in shock, then took several of the newspapers and gently wrapped up the corpse, bearing it between his wings like a pallbearer. He departed for a side door. The maid was ramrod stiff, staring into space. She was as still as a statue, and it took Celestia squinting at her to tell she was still breathing. “Swift Wing and Hardpoint,” Celestia said over her shoulder. She tossed her heavy braid to the right side of her muzzle, letting it fall over her eye and block out the sunlight from the windows. “Please, escort yourselves and Miss Rainwater to the infirmary.” “A-as you command, Princess,” Swift Wing mumbled. The two ponies stood very still. Prince Jungle Trek chuckled and broke the silence. “Hay, I get it! ‘Foul’ and ‘Fowl!’ That’s funny!” Nopony else laughed. Jungle Trek’s slight smile faded. “I thought guards had to laugh at a noble’s awful jokes? Is that not a rule?” He tapped on his pith helmet. "Can I make that a rule?" The earth pony considered it. "Probably shouldn't." Celestia limped forward, off-balance due to her missing horseshoe. She looked around for a moment, then bared her teeth at finding it lodged into the brick. She pried it free and shoved it back on with a blazing horn, ignoring the dust and slight dent. Prince Jungle Trek sidled up next to her. “Geez. I knew during the party the guards had no sense of humor, but this is ridiculous.” Sergeant Nocturne and Corporal Long Spear shared a dour, uncertain look, then trotted ahead of them. There was a squealing sound of hooves on tile as Swift Wing and Hard Point began to physically push the maid in the other direction. Her legs had entirely locked up. Celestia stared down at the haggard earth pony beside her. Out of all of them, he had known her for less than 48 hours, but was the most comfortable after that display. Explorer. He’s seen death in the jungle. “It was a joke in poor taste,” she admonished. Her husband’s ears pinned back. “Like that chicken soup would have been,” Celestia muttered out of the side of her muzzle. Neither escorting guard heard her. Jungle Trek snorted and grinned. Celestia’s smiled, then it faded from her muzzle. She glanced back at the display case and broken staff one last time. How appropriate. The staff was missing the headpiece and glowing gem. It looked like nothing more than a hunk of vaguely magical wood. Celestia liked it that way; most ponies assumed it was some old unicorn's staff and left it at that. The connection to Discord was only made public after his breakout, and even then the information was sparse. For a good reason. “I hate chickens!” Solene roared over the endless clucking.