This Magic Moment

by ScatMan2001

Chapter 7: Always Be Worse

‘What?’ you think groggily to yourself, just beginning to wake up. ‘Where am I?’

You look around, noticing that you’re still lying in the same hospital bed that you found yourself in the day before.

‘What?’ You look around. You’re definitely still in the same room. You smack yourself, trying to wake up. ‘No. No! This can’t be happening. This is all just some crazy dream. Right?’

You begin to panic a little, realizing that you’re not home. ‘How am I still here?’ you ask yourself. ‘I should be in my bed. Or on my floor. Or at least on my planet! Am I going insane?!’

You feel yourself beginning to sweat as the heart monitor beats faster  and faster.

‘I shouldn’t be here! I was supposed to be home!’

You begin to wonder if your friends or family are looking for you. You hope they are. You don’t know how they could possibly find you. This place seems to be solely inhabited by magical, flying, talking equines. You don’t even know how you got here in the first place.

‘How does a car crash result in this?!’

Maybe you’re dead, and you’re just in purgatory. Or hell. You doubt this is what heaven is like. Heaven is supposed to be fraught with your dead relatives, hundreds of women who are willing to do anything for you, and a great bearded man, commonly known as “God.”

So if you’re not dead, then you’re alive. And if you’re alive, and seeing these little horses waltzing around the place, you’re probably going insane.

It doesn’t take long for you to simply accept the fact that you’re insane. But just because you accept it, doesn’t mean you cannot attempt to fix it.

‘I need to get out of here.’ You look around the room, spying a wheelchair resting by the door. ‘I need to get out of here.’

Your hands are slick with sweat as you take them out from under the thick hospital blanket. You feel around your bare chest, searching for the plugs and wires that are holding you in place. And keeping you alive, for that matter, but your need to escape overrides your logical decision to stay put.

You feel weak and exhausted, but determined to leave. The heart monitor continues to beep faster and faster as your head swims. It suddenly seems very difficult to breathe.

You finally manage to grip the sensors on your chest hard enough and rip them off.

You bite your lip. The feeling is not pleasant, but it doesn’t really hurt or anything. Even if it did, it wouldn’t stop you now.

The incessant beeping of the heart monitor is now replaced with one long, steady beep. You glance over at the loud machine and notice it’s flat-lining.

You don’t know that much about hospitals. You generally aren’t in one. But you assume that now that you’re flat-lining, it’s only a matter of time before doctors and nurses come into the room to check on you, and put a stop to your escape.

With a newfound sense of urgency, you grip the plugs in your arm with your opposite hand, and steadily but quickly remove them. Removing them hurts, and you notice that your arm is now bleeding.

You want to get a band-aid or something, but there isn’t any time. You got to get the hell out of here.

You’re feeling dizzier and more tired by the second.

Your legs seem immobile, your chest feels heavy and is rising and falling rapidly, your arms are weak and bleeding, and your head is swimming. You’re not in the best condition to continue, but you really have to.

You begin to roll to the side of the bed. Despite your weakness, you’re moving as quickly as you physically possibly can. You drag the top of your body so it’s hanging off the side of the bed and place your hands on the floor. You attempt to move your legs over as well so you can lower yourself to the floor, but before you can, gravity takes over and you fall heavily to the floor, landing on your chest.

“Ooh fuck me...” you groan as silently as possible, moving your bandaged hands to your swimming head.

You didn’t know how much pain you were truly in until you struck the floor. Pain spreads violently across every inch of your body, leaving you breathless. You contemplate just staying where you are and dying.

You lie on your stomach and close your eyes. It’s not like you can do anything else. Movement seems temporarily impossible, and your breathing is quick and shallow.

‘Can you die in purgatory?’ you think as some of the initial pain begins to subside. ‘Do I really want to find out?’

With that thought, a newfound determination overcomes you, and you finally manage to turn your sideways.

‘There ya are,” you whisper, spying a lone wheelchair on the far end of the room.

Rolling onto your side, you begin your slow, agonizingly painful crawl towards the moveable chair. It’s a good thing you’re on a ton of painkillers, otherwise you probably would have died after falling out of your bed.

You place one arm in front of you, your wrist and elbow touching the cold tiled floor, and drag yourself forward. You only move a foot or two, but it’s progress, and you’re too weak to stand up, so this’ll have to do.

You move one arm in front of the other. And soon you’ll be sliding across the floor.

That song from Frosty the Snowman inexplicably pops into your head. At some times, it may be considered amusing, but this is not one of those moments. You’re bleeding. You’re in immense pain. You’re trapped in a building with talking horses. And that damn song dares to enter your mind at this stressful time?!

You want to shake your head free of the cursed song, but moving your head is probably not the best idea right now. Your dizziness is making it difficult to even see the wheelchair, which your eyes are completely focused on, so shaking your head would probably cause you to pass out.

You place your left arm in front and pull. Then the right. Then your left again.

        What are you going to do when you finally get to the wheelchair?

        You don’t know. You haven’t really thought about that. You assumed that simply getting into the chair was good enough, but that’s not even the half of it. You still need to somehow sneak out of this building.

        From your memory, you can recall that hospitals are huge. They are very large buildings with multiple levels. So what if your on the top floor of a seven story building? What if this world has really tall buildings but only has stairs? And no elevators?!

        You can’t even imagine that, and you really don’t want to.

        Your head bumps into the leg of the wheelchair.

        “Ow,” you say, but don’t really mean it. It wasn’t a hard enough bump to warrant any true reaction, but you gave one anyway.

        You look up and see your ticket to freedom, to happiness, to a new life sitting right in front of your eyes: the wheelchair.

        “Praise ye, oh Adonai!” you proclaim quietly, not wishing to alert anything beyond your door.

        That brings you to your next thought. What is beyond that door?

        It could just be a regular hospital. Or it could be the pit of hell. You’re not sure if you’re actually alive or not, but you won’t know until you look, so you better hop on and check.

        You grab the leg of the chair, and attempt to pull yourself up. Alas, much to your chagrin, the chair rolls away from you, and you fall onto your face.

        A pleasant torrent of curses directed at the chair escape your uncivilized mouth. The cursing may be inappropriate, but when have you ever cared? And it’s actually helping alleviate the pain, a little.

        You resume crawling once more towards the chair. Luckily, it only moved a couple feet, so you don’t have far to travel.

        Reaching up this time, you lock one wheel in place, then the other, before attempting to climb on. You grab the leg of the chair and pull on it, and much to your satisfaction, it stay firmly in place.

        Confident that the chair won’t escape you this time, you reach up, grab the armrest to pull yourself up. Your arms are much too weak to get you into the chair all by themselves. This is an unfortunate fact.

        You attempt to move your legs so that your feet are firmly planted on the smooth floor, but this seems improbable.

        Bandages and braces of all sizes cover from your feet to your thighs. Both of your feet are held pleasantly in place by braces. Both feet are covered in bandages. Your right knee has some weird brace on it, and both legs are also bandaged nicely.

        In all, you cannot bend your legs, move your feet, or wiggle your toes. You may as well be paralyzed.

        Using your incredible upper body strength and unshakable will, you begin to lift yourself from the cold floor.

        You bite down hard on your lip. You can’t remember the last time you were in this much pain; or if you were ever in this much pain to begin with. After only a few moments of struggling, you swear you can taste blood.

        You feel beads of sweat accumulating on your forehead and eyebrows. You want to wipe them away more than anything else, but if you move your arm from the chair, you’ll fall, and you’ll fail.

        With one final, tremendous effort, you pull on your arms will pushing off desperately with your weakened legs. At the same time, you twist your hips in an attempt to quickly turn yourself around.

        Your efforts are greatly rewarded as you feel your ass come into contact with the base of the chair, and not the hard floor.

        You smile proudly to yourself, briefly relishing in this first of what you assume will be many victories. Your arms grip both armrests as you attempt to lift yourself up a little and reposition slightly, allowing you to sit more comfortably. Only...

        You can’t move.

        You become suddenly aware of how small this wheelchair actually is. The armrests on both sides of you are squeezing your waist to the point that you fear you may not be able to get out without outside assistance.

        Not that you want to get out of the chair, or want outside assistance. At this particular moment, you are exactly where you want to be.

        Deciding to ignore the extremely cramped space you have inserted yourself in, you believe now is a great time to leave. Unfortunately, your head does not.

        You still feel like you’re about to throw up. The feeling has been with you since you fell on the floor. Your head has been swimming for just as long, and you can feel the sweat pouring down your face, and the blood on your arm.

        Attempting to push through the pain, you unlock the wheels, and roll your way stealthily to the door.

        Green dots fill your vision, and everything becomes blurry; or, more blurry than it previously was. You don’t know if you need glasses or if you’re about to pass out. But one may be able to safely assume that by your sweating and bleeding and dizziness means you’re going to pass out.

        You take the deepest breath that you can manage and grip the door handle as firmly as possible, which is not that hard, but you manage to turn the handle. You breathe a sigh of relief as the door opens.

        ‘Oh good. It’s not a pit of hellfire.’

        You’re now assuming that you are very much alive, and not in any of the 9 circles of hell, but you still don’t know where you are.

You poke your giant head out to inspect the hallway; you don’t want your possibly sadistic, multi-colored captors finding you.

        You poke your head out into the hallway. You take a quick glance to your left, then to your right.

        ‘Clear,’ you sigh in relief. If there is one thing that can ruin your day right now, it’s seeing a talking horse. So you decide to exit this building, and hopefully this world, as quickly as possible.

        You open the door all the way, and roll into the hallway, continuing to look around you as you go. It’s becoming harder and harder to see, though, and harder to sit up straight.

Not that you’re worried about falling out of the chair. It’s holding you in place so tightly that even if a grenade went off right beneath you, the majority of your torso would later be found still stuck to this damn seat.  

‘Where the hell am I supposed to go?’ you ask yourself, looking left and right as you think. There are long hallways stretching out on both sides, so either could be the way out. Or it could be a dead end, which may literally result in your death.

A sign catches your eye as you turn your head. You look straight up from where you are sitting and read, ‘Lobby ←.’

‘Oh. Nice.’ You turn to your left and wheel yourself along the hallway as quickly as possible. You feel relieved that you know where the lobby is, but you’re not out of this yet. You’re bound to see a doctor or a nurse at any-

“What are you doing out of bed?!” you hear a loud voice from behind you, interrupting your thoughts.

        
        You turn your head, and only your head, slightly to the right in order to see what’s behind you, though you already have a pretty good idea.

        You spy a nurse, you know her as Nurse Redheart, rapidly advancing on you with an angry look on her face.

        “Oh shit,” you say, before grabbing the wheels and throwing your arms forward with all of your strength. You rocket forward at speed that would impress Alex Zanardi.

        “Wait! Stop!” the nurse yells, advancing on you from behind.

        Stop? You don’t think so. After all you went through just to get out of your room, there is no way in hell you’re going to let her take you back.

        As you roll down the hallway, you see another nurse exit a room just a few feet in front of you.

        ‘Fuck.’

        “Tenderheart! Stop him!” the voice yells from behind you. Nurse Redheart’s hooves are growing in volume, which could only mean that she’s getting closer to you.

        The nurse known as ‘Tenderheart’ looks over just in time to see you glide past her. But your victory is short lived, as you hear more hooves join in the attempt to stop your escape.

        You can feel your heart beating in your ears as your vision gets even blurrier. The hallway seems like it’s spinning, but you keep going on anyway.

        In your disoriented state, you get too close to the wall, and the wheelchair’s wheel and your arm collide against it. The chair bounces off the wall, and you continue on your way as fast as possible.

        “Ah! Shit!” you slur, your injured hand throbbing as it pushes the wheels forward. You’re tempted to stop and turn around. The ponies chasing you are nurses, so they’ll be able to fix you up and make the pain go away.

        With that thought, you almost stop, but don’t. This is almost over. You’ve come too far to stop now.

        You speed into the lobby, painfully bounce off a pillar, and roll to a halt. All around you, the few doctors, nurses, and patients that are present stop whatever they’re doing and look at you. You look back at them.

        No one moves. No one says anything. They don’t look angry. They look confused. And you look back at them with a confused expression.

        You hear the hooves of the nurses behind you getting closer and closer.

        ‘Oh fuck,’ you think, moving yourself forward again.

        “Will somepony stop him?!” a voice from behind you yells as you get about halfway through the lobby.
        
        Just then, the ponies wearing lab coats in the lobby spring into action, and attempt to grab onto you. But it’s too late for them. You already reached the door.

        Thankfully, the doors are automatic, and they open just in time for you to roll out without slamming into the glass.

        You roll out into the cold air. The sun hasn’t risen yet, and you immediately take notice of the millions of stars twinkling above you. You’ve never seen so many stars before. It’s pretty.

        The cold air is a pleasant relief from your rising body temperature. It feels especially nice considering you’re completely naked. It feels like for the first time since you woke up you can breathe.

        The sun begins to rise over the horizon. Slowly, the night sky gets brighter and the stars disappear. The light from the sun reflects across the clouds, turning the sky a beautiful red and orange.

        Everything is really blurry now. All you know is that you’re looking up and can see colors. You’re not even sure what you’re looking at anymore. Your dizziness has become too much to bear. You’re going to puke.

        A voice comes from behind you, but you don’t know what it says. It’s clearly directed at you, but the voice doesn’t sound angry or threatening anymore. It sounds tentative. As though if it says the wrong thing, you’ll flip out. A couple seconds pass before you hear it again. But you still can’t tell what it wants.

        You close your eyes in an attempt to get rid of the dizziness. Even though your eyes are closed, everything gets really bright. Then dark.

        Then nothing.

==========

        You blink yourself awake, immediately noticing the temperature of the room.

        ‘Why the hell is it always so damn cold in here?!’ you shout in your head, not having the energy to actually say it.

        You’re freezing, as you often seem to be on these dreadful, early mornings in the realm of magic and happiness. It’s so cold that when you exhale, you swear you see steam.

        This is the coldest you’ve been in a while. It may not even be that cold, but whenever you first wake up, and the air is only slightly chilly, it feels a lot colder than it actually is. So now you’re freezing. And you’re sad.

        In an attempt to gain back your long lost warmth, you blindly feel around for the blanket you love so much. You raise up your arms and bring them down, but all you feel is your chest and stomach. No blanket.

        Curious, you glance to the foot of your bed where you spot a luxurious pile of crumpled up wool. The blanket seems to be there almost every morning.

        ‘Damn it, Celestia,’ you think, but don’t really mean it. You understand her problems when it comes to sleeping, and nighttime in general. You sigh. ‘She probably had another damn nightmare.’

        You can almost guarantee that she had some fucked up dream again, but you doubt she’ll mention it. She never does.

        Deciding to bring her sleeping habits as a topic of conversation later in the day when the sun is actually raised, you sit up, grab the blanket, and fall backwards onto the soft mattress.

        Situating yourself so you are comfortable and warm, you glance over to your clock.

        ‘4:50?’ you calmly ask yourself. Waking up at these early hours has been so common that you can’t even get annoyed anymore. You’re now just assuming that it is your destiny to wake up so early every day.

        ‘Reckon I’ll go back to sleep.’ You want to go back to sleep, but you feel very much awake. Your mind wants you to go to sleep, or at least do nothing for a while, but your body wants to get up.

        This kind of thing happens fairly often. You want to sleep. Sleeping is fun. It’s the greatest thing God’s creations can physically accomplish with no effort. So when you can’t fall asleep, but it’s too early to get up, the next best thing is cuddling.

        With this revelation, you turn over on your other side to see your Princess. She’s resting peacefully on her side, her back facing you.

        You can’t help but smile as you look at her. She’s just so beautiful, so perfect in every way, and you have no idea why she’s lying here with you. Surely, she could have anypony she wanted; or any living being for that matter. But she chose you.

        Why?

        You have no idea. You’ve asked yourself that question a million times since you got together, and you have not yet been able to determine what irrational thoughts must go through her mind in order for you both to be together.

        But you’re glad that she thinks the way she does. You love being with her, and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

        You observe her body as she sleeps. Although, ‘observe’ in this case can be interchangeable with ‘stare at.’

You thoroughly enjoy looking at your marefriend. Especially when she sleeps. She looks so peaceful, and this is the only time of the day when she does, but she still looks just as beautiful, if not more, as she does during the day.  

Your eyes trace along her body, starting at her shapely flank, and slowly moving up. You admire the curves of her waist, even though the majority of her midsection is covered by her massive wings. The rest of her upper body seems to be guarded by her flowing mane. You wish you could see her face, her radiant eyes, but she’s not facing you.

Celestia’s shaking interrupts your pleasant thoughts. You notice that she’s not covered by the blanket as you are, something that’s obvious though you didn’t recognize it until now. She subconsciously curls herself up a little bit, probably trying to get warmer as she sleeps.

Despite the fact that her being cold is the most adorable thing you have yet to witness in this lifetime, you are obligated as her significant other to fix this small problem.

You grab the blanket on her side of the mattress and pull it up to her shoulders. Or, the pony equivalent of shoulders, you suppose. Even though you’ve been living here for such a long time, you still hardly know the anatomy of ponies.

Not that you need to. You’re not a doctor. One only really needs to know the basics, like ‘flank,’ ‘hooves,’ ‘legs,’ ‘face,’ and you’re good.

After pulling the covers over her, you press yourself against her back.
        
        ‘How is she so warm?’ you ask as you touch her. Despite the temperature of the room, she feels as warm as she always does. Whereas you are practically frozen. You don’t know why it’s so damn cold in here. Probably because of the extremely high elevation.

        Canterlot, being built into the top of a possibly unstable mountain, is not really close to sea-level. The higher one goes, the colder it gets, so it doesn’t really help that you’re sleeping in the highest point of the tallest tower on the tallest mountain in the country.

‘Being a weather pegasi here must suck,’ you assume. Freezing to death for a living is not your idea of a good career.

You adjust the covers so they rest comfortably above your shoulders before wrapping an arm around her side. You rub her belly as your elbow rests on the soft feathers that cover her wings. You know they’re sensitive, so you try your best not to put a lot of pressure on it. You rest your head gently on her neck as to not wake her up.

She kicks a foreleg in her sleep and mumbles something you can’t understand. You’re much too awake now to close your eyes, so you decide to just stare out the balcony doors into the night sky and think.

‘What do I have to do today?’ you ask yourself. ‘Probably whatever I didn’t finish yesterday... paperwork.’

You're actually pretty excited to do paperwork today. You could use a break from all the working out you and your Century have been doing recently. Captain Sparrow has felt the need to drop by almost every other day, so you’ve been trying to keep your stallions in top physical condition, lest you get a bad review. You hope to get a promotion someday.

You’ve been coming home exhausted every single day for the past month because of these surprise inspections. This, added with what you’ve called Celestia’s “cooling down” period, has done nothing to help your sex life. Quite the opposite.

It could always be worse, though.

Celestia kicks a hind leg, causing the blanket to move down from your shoulders to your chest. She moves her head back a little, causing you to sit up slightly, and move your hand to her waist. Or, the pony equivalent of a waist, you guess. She raises her forehooves and rubs at her face, trying to wake herself up.

“Hmm?...” she grunts. “What time is it?” She curls her forelegs back into her chest and rests her head on her pillow. Just as you look over to recheck the time, you begin to glow gold, are lifted up a couple inches, and dumped on top of your Princess.

Your chest connects with Celestia’s after your brief fall, who has rolled onto her back in order to catch you. Her forelegs wrap around you, quickly followed by her giant wings.

“Ah!” she gasps. “You’re freezing!” She places her chin gently on top of your head.

 “And you’re hot,” you respond quickly, hoping she catches the double-meaning. “You kicked the blanket off us again.”

“Oh.” Her wings tighten around you a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t, hon. It’s OK... Do you know you kick and mumble in your sleep?” You reach your arms up to wrap them around her neck.

“I... I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

 You sense how sensitive her voice is, so you cut her off before she can say anything more on the subject. “OK, hon. Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring it up. And to answer your question,” you glance to your side, “it’s 5:00 o’clock.”

“That early?”

“That early.”

“Then what are you doing up? You’re always complaining about mornings, so shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You rub your cheek against the side of her neck. “Me? Sleeping? Never. Is it a problem that I wanted to cuddle a little bit?”

“No, no, not at all.” One of Celestia soft hooves begins to trace along your back.

“I’ve been waking up this early for the longest time.” You yawn. “I’ll either go back to sleep, as I usually do, or I’ll lie here awake. And cuddle.”

“Insomnia?”

“No, it’s not that. Just hard to sleep sometimes”

‘Like every fucking day,’ you add in your head.

 “This sort of thing probably happens to most ponies.”

“I don’t think so,” Celestia muses. “It doesn’t happened to me. I’ve been able to sleep through most nights.”

You squeeze your arms around your Goddess. “Well, you aren’t most ponies, are you?”

You sense the amusement in her voice as she responds, “No, I most certainly am not.”

Celestia rolls onto her side with you still in her tight embrace. The action is startling, but not unwelcome. You manage to shift up a little bit so you are face to face with your Goddess. You stroke her neck with a hand, and place your forehead against hers.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep, hon?” you whisper, stroking her side. You can feel the steady beating of her heart; the sound of the beat is so relaxing you’re considering trying to go back to sleep. “It’s too early to get up.”

One of your Goddess’ delicate hooves caresses your side. “Then what will you do if you can’t sleep?” she asks. “It hardly seems fair for me to get rest without you.”

You kiss her snout. “Just lay here, I guess.” You don’t know what else you would do. “That sounds fair to me.”

A few moments of silence pass by, and you allow your mind to go blank. You don’t know what to think right now. It’s too early to think, and there’s nothing to think about anyway. You’ve spent such a large portion of your life just thinking that you decided it’s time for a break.

Thinking about nothing is great. You now know why most people/ponies choose to do it. It’s not stressful, it’s relaxing... it just feels nice, and you like to feel nice.

“You know,” Celestia begins, her grip on you loosening slightly, “I’m not tired anymore. Maybe we could start our day early?”

She pulls back and opens her eyes to look in yours. For the first time this morning you get to see her beautiful, purple eyes, her perked up ears, and her seductive smile.

‘Why the hell would I want to start my day an hour early?’ you ask yourself, completely oblivious.

“Why should we get up now?” you ask. “The alarm doesn’t go off, for like, another hour and a half.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, dear.”

What?

“I don’t get it,” you respond, genuinely confused.

Before you know what’s happening, your Princess turns her head slightly and forces you into a deep kiss, her legs tightening around you once more.

‘Oh shit.’

Your eyes shoot open in surprise, but slide shut as you begin to kiss back. Her lips are almost as soft as the mattress you are currently sinking into.

Your Princess wastes no time in boldly taking the initiative, sliding her warm tongue forward and into your mouth.

Your tired mind cannot react in time with Celestia’s swift and pleasant movements. You allow her tongue to explore your mouth unchecked for a few glorious moments before she slowly withdraws. As she pulls back, she grips your bottom lip gently in her teeth.

“Do you understand now?” she asks, seductive as ever.

All you can do is nod, not knowing what to say.

“You are too cute sometimes.”

==========

        The walk to work this morning is much better than usual.

It seems that way, at least. The elation you are feeling after this mornings activities is so high you think you’re about to start flying.

‘This has been the best morning since Christmas!’

You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy this early in the morning before. The locals, just beginning to open up shop for the day, gaze at you with confused and surprised stares before resuming their business. You take this same path to work everyday, but rarely smile.

You can always tell the difference between a local and a tourist. A local will look at you, smile, nod or greet you as you pass by, and that’s basically that. A tourist, though, will stop, stare, and keep staring at you until you are out of their direct line of sight.

You love tourists. Practically everypony in Equestria knows who you are, or have at least heard of or seen pictures of you. You assume that your height, and general odd appearance, is what causes every living being to stop what they’re doing to look at you. It may be that, or something else. You don’t know. You’ve never asked them.

They’re generally looking at you in fascination, and sometimes, they even look at you in envy; but it’s not animosity, so you don’t mind it.

‘We’ve never had sex in the morning before,’ you think, continuing to walk down one of the many lightly-crowded streets that make up Canterlot in the early hours of the morning.

Making love in the morning was fantastic, but you’re not assuming that it will become an everyday occurrence; you don’t want it to be, but it was nice for this morning. This is the greatest you’ve felt in quite some time.

What better way is there to start the day than sex? You can’t think of one.

Except bacon.

‘Would I rather have bacon or sex in the morning?’

Probably bacon. You haven’t had the delectable, greasy deliciousness in decades. At least, it feels like it has been that long. It’s not that you don’t enjoy sex, because you do. You enjoy it very much. But bacon...

It’s bacon.

Oh well. You’re not going to start complaining about sex. Especially not with a Goddess. You enjoy every moment of it, and truthfully, you wouldn’t even think of trading it for anything.

Looking around, you notice a few ponies looking at you. Some nodding. Some smiling. Some staring. Nothing new.

You just smile and nod politely at them. You consider stopping to chat, but you should really get to work. If Captain Sparrow has decided to make another inspection and you aren’t there, you can kiss any possible promotion goodbye.

You aren’t all too motivated to become a Captain in the Equestrian Legion. You don’t really understand what Captains do exactly. Hell, you don’t really know what Lieutenants do either. But a promotion is a promotion, and everypony and their mother wants one.

What’s not to want about it? There’s more money, it’s not as physically demanding as a grunt’s work, and you get more respect. There may be more paperwork, but you think that’s a fair trade.

As you walk through the streets, a question enters your mind.

‘What should I get for lunch today?’

You ask yourself that very same question almost every single day at this time. You contemplate stopping by the market, which is just down the street, and getting something. But what could you get from there?

‘I could get a tomato,’ you think. ‘Or a carrot. Or I could get an apple for lunch.’

All of these are terrible ideas. All of the individual fruits and vegetables that are sold at the market are over-priced in the city and wouldn’t fill you up anyway.

The closest farm to Canterlot is at the base of the mountain. Which is miles away. So, when one pays for produce, they’re also unknowingly paying for its’ shipping. Not that it matters to most ponies. Canterlot is a very wealthy city, so most ponies don’t look twice at the prices of produce.

But you, being ‘from’ Ponyville, know the difference. Ponyville has the benefit of Apple family farm and Carrot Top’s farm, so prices are reduced, and it tastes a lot better, considering it’s relatively fresh.

Not here, though. You gotta be careful where you buy your food. And you know that better than anypony. It wasn’t too long ago that you ate a ‘fresh’ sandwich from some bar only to wake up in the middle of the night and empty your stomach out your mouth.

You haven’t returned to that bar, mainly because you forgot the name, and you never plan on going back. You don’t know what you would do if you went back, anyway.

You’re mad that the place sold you a crappy sandwich that caused you physical pain. But at the same time, you’re happy that you got to spend those precious moments with your Princess. Even though you were in pain, it was still a nice night; certainly one you will never forget.

Your stomach rumbles as you pass by Joe’s Donut Shop. You love that place, and, surprisingly, Celestia does too. Most ponies wouldn’t think royalty would enjoy donuts so much, but she does. Sometimes, on your way home from work, you pick up a box for the Royal Family to share.

You’re the only (non-official) member of the Royal Family that can go out in public as you do and not be surrounded by guards, the Canterlot elite, or go to these small shops without making it a big deal.

If Celestia were to personally go out and get a sandwich from some deli, that particular deli would immediately see a great influx of patrons. So, in order not to endorse anypony, you go out and run these errands.

‘Guess I’ll get a sandwich or something when lunch comes around,’ you think, turning onto a different road. ‘Maybe I’ll get something new?’

You’re feeling rather adventurous this morning, for obvious reasons. So maybe you will get a new sandwich from a different shop...

Or maybe you won’t. You were just thinking of that egg sandwich you had weeks ago, and that wasn’t a pleasant experience. You were in pain. It’s one thing to get sick at home, and another to get sick at work.

You don’t know. You’ll just have to wait until lunch time rolls around.

This early-morning emotional high that you are experiencing may foreshadow the rest of your day. You never have any good mornings, so you never really have any truly great days.

But this morning, thus far, has been fantastic! So the rest of your day should be just as good. Right?

Isn't that why God made mornings so miserable? So that when one is finally great, you know everything is going to be all right?

It’s an interesting theory.

You’re full of interesting theories. People should listen to you more. But you know they won’t.

Oh well. Their loss.

You easily spot the barracks just a couple feet away from you, at the corner of the street. Good timing too; rush hour, or the pony equivalent to rush hour, seems to be just beginning. Ponies are pouring out of their houses, seemingly at the same exact time as everypony else, and enter the streets of Canterlot.

As much as you’d love to get caught in traffic, just for old times sake, you decide it’s about time you got to work.

You push open the front doors and enter the small, empty lobby.

You’re glad Equestria doesn’t have cars. If it did, then you would have to drive to work, which is a terrifying thought for quite a number of reasons.

One being that the streets are so crowded you can barely walk through them! You can’t even imagine trying to get a car through this cramped city!

Imagine if each and every individual walking to work this fine morning was in a car.

You can’t imagine the traffic reports. The streets would be jammed, everypony would be pissed, coffee shops would be even more crowded, parking garages would be everywhere! Which would do nothing but further constrict one’s movement in this damn city.

Not to mention that you are terrified of driving. You can’t even remember how to drive a car, its been so long. If an automobile randomly appeared before you, you could probably drive it, but you would do a horrific job at doing so.

You weren’t a good driver in the first place. If you were a good driver, you never would have crashed your car and ended up in Equestria. So it’s kind of a good thing that you were such a bad driver; it brought you here.

You’re lucky to be alive.

It could always be worse, though. Always be worse.

Waltzing through the empty lobby, you take a quick glance at the clock hanging on the nearby wall.

‘7:13,’ you observe. ‘I’m a little late today.’

You’re not concerned about being late. You’re courting the ruler of this country, so if you show up a little late, and somepony has a problem with it, they can tell Celestia.

You hate to abuse your power like that, but it’s not like you’re trying to be late. You are a very punctual individual, but the traffic in the mornings is terrible. With the combination of the ponies walking to work and the tourists stopping to stare at you, it takes a few extra minutes to get here.

Not that anypony cares that you’re late. Nothing ever seems to be happening that involves the military. From what you’ve gathered about recent Equestrian history, if there is a problem, just get Twilight and her friends to fix it. And they will.

The military seems pointless with those six mares running around with their fancy magic. The only time the military actually did something by themselves without the assistance from the Elements of Harmony was that riot you put down. And that wasn’t a big deal.

You chuckle at the idea of Twilight and her friends putting down that riot. They’d probably just show up and fire a giant rainbow at the drunkards, sending them all straight to Tartarus. Simple as that.

Preparing yourself for the day, you approach the door that leads to the fitness center and main area. Only...

You can hear talking coming from the next room over. A lot of talking.

‘Why are they being so loud?’ you wonder. Your Century is never this talkative in the morning. Later in the day, perhaps, but not now.

        Normally, some ponies talking would not cause you stop in your tracks to think like this. But this is your Century. Have they ever talked in the morning?

        You don’t think so. Especially not this loud. From what you hear, it’s not just a couple voices, but most, if not all, of your soldiers.

        ‘I really need to stop overthinking things. They’re just talking! Ponies can talk!... Does that thought sound strange to anyone else?... Just get to work.’

        Mentally preparing yourself for the day, you place a hand on the door, push it open, and walk through.

        You immediately realize that nopony is working out. That’s not surprising, though. What surprises you is that all 80 stallions are standing by the door, directly in front of you, in one giant group.

        As you walk through, the conversation suddenly stops. Every eye in the room goes from looking at various soldiers to staring right in your eyes. It startles you that every face in the room is mixed with an expression of surprise and anxiousness.

        You begin thinking. ‘Why are they all staring at me like-’

        “Lieutenant!”

        “Sir, listen!”

        “We need to ask you something!”

        Everypony in the room begins shouting at you. Because everypony insists on speaking at the same time, you can’t tell what anypony is actually saying, but they all clearly want your attention.

        They begin to slowly advance on you, backing you up to the wall. You find yourself temporarily at a loss for words. What could possible be said here? You better come up with something, or they’re going to crush you to death.

        ‘So this is how it ends?’ you ask yourself. ‘Crushed to death by a bunch of mythical creatures who just want to ask me a question...?’

        Knowing them, it’s probably a dumb question. The microwave is probably broken, so they can’t make hotpockets, and now they probably want you to fix the damn thing... again.

        You don’t even know how you fixed it the first time. You just hit it. That’s how humans fix technology. And it actually worked.

        ‘I always imagined one of those really cool deaths you see in video games or movies. Like, I’m bleeding, and with my last breath, I’m like, “Tell my wife” *violent coughing* “I love her... Blech...” and then I’d die. Only problem is that I’m not married.

        ‘Either one of those, or dying an old man in my bed. It’s kind of disappointing to go out this way. I survived a violent car crash, a fire, interdimensional travel, escaping a hospital, and I’m going to die because these dipshits want to ask me something?’

        No.

        “Shut up!”

        Everypony shuts up right quick and snaps to attention where they stand. They are all still in your personal space, but at least they stopped talking.

        “Now,” you begin, “I want somepony to explain why you are all standing around. This isn’t a book club.”

        “Is Equestria going to war?” a sole voice asks.

        You almost choke on the spit you were attempting to swallow.

        “What?!” you cough out in surprise. It only takes a couple seconds before you can speak again. “Who told you that? What did they say exactly? Where are they?”

        Your mind floods with questions, so you asked the first things that came to mind.

Talking about war in Equestria is not very common. Equestria is all about keeping the peace at home; hence why your Century, along with the rest of your Legion, is stationed in Canterlot. You’re not supposed to go off and fight, you’re supposed to stay here and protect.

At least, that’s the idea.

You can’t help but take this news seriously. Even though you work with professional soldiers on a daily basis, the topic of war doesn’t usually come up. One might think that it does, but it really doesn’t. Not in Equestria at least.

Mace answers your questions. “Some reporter came in here literally like,” he glances at the clock hanging at the far end of the room, “ten minutes ago, and started asking us a bunch of questions.”

“What were the questions?” you ask, in turn.

Private Garand steps up. “He asked, ‘What is your opinion on the possible upcoming war Equestria faces?’ Then he’s all like, ‘Is the military currently planning an invasion? Or are you staying on the defensive?’... We didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.”

Everypony arounds him nods in agreement, some offering ‘Yep’s and ‘Mm-hmm’s in confirmation.

“What newspaper was he from?” you ask. “Did he say?”

“Yeah,” Mace confirms, “it was the Canterlot Daily.”

‘Shit,’ you think. ‘They wouldn’t come in here just to fuck around.’

The Canterlot Daily is the most well-known newspaper company in Equestria. Everypony loves them, and you do as well. Celestia reads that newspaper everyday so she can keep up with pop culture and such.

So, considering such a respectable company was in your barracks asking questions, they probably heard that Equestria is having diplomatic issues with somebody else. But how did they figure all that out and this is the first time you’re hearing about it?

You’re sleeping with the ruler of the damn country. You should be hearing news like this long before anypony else. Especially your subordinates!

You sigh and rub your face, suddenly feeling exhausted despite the day just beginning.

You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, guys. I can’t answer your questions right now. I haven’t heard of any war.”

“The reporter kept asking us about it,” Sherman adds, “but we didn’t know what he was talking about, so he just left.”

“Is there any possibility that this is all a joke?” You silently pray that it is.

“Doubt it. He proved to us that he worked for the Canterlot Daily.”

“Yeah,” Mace adds. “He had that I.D. card my wife has, so it seemed legit.”

“He was completely serious the whole time, too. Like, at first we thought it was a joke, but he genuinely wanted to know what we had to say.”

“It was really confusing.”

“I bet,” you add, thinking of what you could possible do right now. You need answers, and you want them now. Your soldiers aren’t much help, so what could you do?

The 80 stallions have resumed their chatting with one another as you think of something to do.

Then the obvious hits you.

“Attention!” you shout out, and they all snap to attention once more. “I’m going to run a quick errand. I’ll be back... sometime, I hope. Just stop thinking about this for a while, go work out... do something besides talking about this.”

The stallions exchange hesitant looks before meandering off into various parts of the building. You exhale, turn around, and head back out the door you just entered three minutes ago.

‘So much for a great day.’

==========

You ascend the front steps of the massive Castle that stands high above Canterlot, and the rest of Equestria, for that matter.

You were literally just here 30 minutes ago. Your morning has been almost completely pointless.

Almost.

The walk back to the Castle took quite some time. It’s rush hour now, so the streets were packed with ponies and their carts and belongings and huge, poofy dresses that occupy the space of 3 ponies.

Lucky for you, Celestia is not in a meeting with anypony. Not with a government official. Not with any regular pony that made an appointment. Nopony.

From what the guards told you, Luna is in a meeting with the mayor, but Celestia is just in the Throne Room.

You silently praise all deities that have ever been thought of by man for your fortune and walk into the Throne Room, nopony looking at you twice.

It has always amazed you that the Royal Guards are always stoic and facing forward at all times, yet they somehow remain constantly vigilant. They are completely aware of their surroundings, it seems, at all times.

Not to mention that they already know who you are, so you rarely have a problem with them.

Anywho, the guards manning the doors open them for you as you pass by.

One thing that you hate about this giant room is that it’s always so damn bright in here. The entire room is basically made out of stained glass, allowing the rays of the sun to easily penetrate inside the Castle. You guess Celestia likes it, though, otherwise it wouldn’t be like this.

The windows are pretty cool as well. Each window portrays a significant event in Equestria’s history. Twilight and her friends are even on a few of these windows.

You see Celestia look up from a stack of papers as the doors close behind you. You can’t see her face clearly since you’re too far away. But you assume that she’s surprised by your sudden return.

The room is empty, so the sound of your footsteps easily echo throughout the open space. After about 10 minutes of walking (or something like that), you reach the middle of the room. At this rate, you’re going to die of thirst before you can talk to your Princess.

You notice Celestia stack the papers floating around her before floating them to her assistant standing at the foot of the Throne. She says something to the assistant that you can’t hear. You guess she was excusing her because the assistant promptly nods and exits out a door behind the Throne.

‘Since when was there a door there?’ you wonder. You’ve certainly never seen it before.

“You’re home early,” she teases. “But it’s a little early for supper, don’t you think?”

That it is.

“May I take a moment of your time, my dear?” you ask, approaching the Throne. “I just need to ask some questions.”

“You have my undivided attention,” she states.

“I’ve been hearing this, uh... rumor, floating around this morning.”

Celestia smiles. “That’s hardly unusual, sweetie. Everypony in Canterlot loves to gossip, whether it be over a rumor or a fact. You should know that.”

“Oh, I do. I do. It’s just, this rumor is a little different from the normal gossip that you hear on a daily basis.”

“Alright, so what is this rumor then?”

You take a quick moment to collect your thoughts. How should you ask what you want to ask? Is there a certain way you could bring the topic up without being too direct?

You can’t really think of one. Deciding not to waste anymore time, you choose just to come out and say it.

“Is Equestria going to war?” you ask, looking to Celestia for an answer.

Celestia’s initial reaction is nothing. She just looks at you, ears raised, blank expression on her face.

“Where did you hear that?” she asks, not denying the rumor.

        You feel your anger from earlier quickly return. “So it’s true? Equestria is going to war and I’m the last to know?”

        “No, no, I can explain. But first I need you to tell me where you heard that.”

        You recount the details of the morning to your Goddess. The long walk, the news reporter coming in, what your soldiers told you, and the general confusion you’ve experienced this morning.

        When you finish, Celestia exhales. “Nopony is supposed to know about that.”

        That statement did nothing to alleviate any anger you are experiencing. “What? So there is a war?”

        “No, it’s just a rumor.”

        “Started by... who? What is this all about? And what country is this supposed to involve?”

        “This is very serious. Please allow me a moment to explain.”

        You nod, waiting for her to continue with the story.

        “Do you remember, a few months ago, Cadence, Luna, and I met with some ambassadors? It was that day you stayed home sick.”

        You nod. You’ve only had one sick day, so it’s pretty obvious as to what she’s talking about.

        She continues. “The ambassadors were from the Northern Destrier Provinces. They had quite a few concerns, which they felt it important enough to tell me about personally.”

        From the limited knowledge you have of Equestrian geography, you know that the Northern Destrier Provinces are northeast of Equestria. However, you do not know the current diplomatic relations Equestria has with any country. You’re not a politician, you’re a soldier. All you have to do is when Celestia says ‘fight,’ you go off and fight.

        “The ambassadors felt threatened about the number of soldiers Equestria has defending our borders. They looked at it more as a possible invasion force than peacekeeping guards.

        “I assure you, I have no hostile intention against anypony. I’m perfectly content with just spending my future in peace. There’s been so much excitement over the last few years with the Elements of Harmony, Nightmare Moon, Discord... the list goes on and on and doesn’t seem to end.

        “Which brings me to the next part of the ambassador’s concerns. The delegation from the Provinces were also perturbed by the Elements of Harmony. Over the past few years, many terrible, evil forces have been vanquished through the use of the Elements. From what the delegation told me, King Belmont and Queen Preakness believe that I want to use the Elements for conquest.”

        “That’s ridiculous,” you cut in. If the situation wasn’t so serious, you probably would be laughing over yet another terrible pun. King Belmont and Queen Preakness? Of course that’d be their names. God damn.

         “Which is what I told them, but they did not believe me. They demanded that I turn over one of the six amulets from the Elements of Harmony.”
 
        “You didn’t, did you?” you ask, a little nervous. You know how important those amulets are to the safety of this country.

“Of course not!” Celestia shouts, quickly becoming livid. “How dare they demand that of me!”
        
Being in Celestia’s presence when she gets angry is terrifying. Her anger, luckily, is not directed at you, but that hardly makes it any less difficult to be around.
        
“Excuse me,” Celestia requests, calming herself. “I did not mean to lose my temper. But the way they spoke to me was insulting; as if I was their subordinate. As if it was mandatory for me to meet their demands...

        “I refused them, of course. I wouldn’t even think of giving anypony something valuable, let alone the mere location of the Elements.

        “I grew tired of their nagging, and found their demands an affront to my rule, so I adjourned the meeting. We were all exhausted from having argued all day, and left for dinner. It may have been rude of us to do so, but by then, I couldn’t care less about what they thought.”

        Your anger has essentially left you by this point. You sympathize with what Celestia had to endure, and feel pretty bad for not asking Celestia about her tired state that night.You feel like an abnormally terrible boyfriend for not comforting your marefriend when you had the chance.

        “Then why does everypony think there’s going to be a war?” you ask, unable to figure this out entirely.

        “I’m not sure,” the alicorn admits. “This sort of thing has happened before. If I had to venture a guess, I would assume a guard or somepony else in the room told somepony of the heated debate going on between nations. Because of the arguments and frustration, they would assume hostilities have arisen between Equestria and the Provinces, and that war would follow.”

        ‘Well shit,’ you think. ‘That sounds like a great guess to me.’

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” you ask. “I know I’m not a politician, nor do I want to be, but this is about the military, which I just so happen to be apart of. If there is a possibility of going to war, don’t you think I should know? Hell, some news reporter knew before I did! And I wasn’t told, I had to ask.”

        Celestia slowly descends from her Throne and approaches you. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you.” Celestia stops in front of you to nuzzle your cheek. “Equestria will not being going to war. That I can assure you. I did not wish to trouble you over nothing.”

        She chuckles. “We all know how easy it is to make you worried.”

        You smile. She’s right. Getting you worried is not a difficult thing to achieve. At least, it used to be. But hey, if someone popped up in the middle of a world with talking horses and magic and shit, they’d probably be worried over everything too. It’s not like your initial arrival in Equestria was so great. It wasn’t. That’s part of the reason you hate hospitals. And doctors.

        You wrap your arms around her neck and nuzzle her cheek in return. “That’s true... I’m sorry, hon. It’s just been a confusing morning. But now that everything’s sorted out, I think I’m good.”

     ‘The day can only get better from here... I hope.’

“I should get back to work,” you say, pulling away. “Got a lot to do today, and not much time to do it.”

        “Alright, sweetheart,” she smiles. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

        You share a brief kiss goodbye, turn around, and stroll on back to work. The day has just begun, and you already wish it was over.

==========

        
        You read through a report as Celestia recounts the events of her day. She talks about the ponies she met today and the adventures a Princess gets into an a daily basis. Which isn’t anything too exciting, but you listen anyway.

        While listening, you try to read this report. Only problem is, you can’t remember why you’re reading it. Or what it’s even about. You brought it home to go over so you wouldn’t miss dinner. If you did this at your office, you would have missed your evening meal, which you have done quite enough over the past few weeks.

        You’ve been reading and filling out documents all day. So many documents have been through your office that you can’t even remember the one individual document in your hands that you’ve been reading for God knows how long.

     ‘This is the report from Mace, right?’ you think, trying to remember. ‘No, this one’s from... Wallace? Is this Wallace’s report?’

You look at the top of the paper and see the name written clearly on the top.

  Captain Sparrow

     ‘I’ve been reading Sparrow’s report for an hour now, and I can’t remember any of it? What the hell have I been doing?!’

When reading, you often begin to daydream. Unfortunately, however, even though your brain is elsewhere, your eyes continue to scan the page. So you can scan through pages of information, but you won’t retain any of it.

You turn back to the first page of the report, deciding that you need to start over.

Celestia yawns as she finishes a sentence.

“So that was my day,” she finishes. “How was yours? Anything interesting happen after this morning?”

You stretch your back, your legs, and your arms, trying to make yourself more comfortable. As you seem to be every night, you and Celestia are lounging on the purple cushion in front of the fireplace.

Neither of you are wearing anything. There’s no need to be. Clothes are unnecessary when you’re in the privacy of your own bedroom.

Your head is resting on her folded wing, and the rest of you is lying perpendicular to her. You hear and feel your back and feet crack as you stretch.

“Nothing interesting ever happens to me, hon,” you answer. You sit up slightly and place an arm on her back so you can rub her flank. Your other arm holds the report that you’re attempting, and failing, to read.

“I know. Just thought I’d ask anyway.”

Always the joker.

You hear her flip through some pages in whatever book she’s reading. It surprises you that she has time for recreational reading. With all the work she does during the day, and the work she does before sleeping, you never really thought she had time to read.

“What ya reading, hon?” you ask. “Anything interesting?”

Equestrian literature is actually really good. Back in the realm of man, you didn’t read too much. There wasn’t really a reason to. You read occasionally, but not as often as you do now. Probably because there is no television or internet, and you are easily bored.

You’ve read tons of books since arriving here. And the vast majority of them were really good. You wouldn’t doubt that whatever Celestia’s reading is another great story.

She glances back at the cover before answering. “It’s called 50 Shades of Violet. I’ve never heard of it, but Luna said that I should read it. So I am.”

‘Why does that title sound familiar?’ you ask yourself. You know you’ve heard of that name before, but you can’t remember where.

“Let me know if you like it,” you say. “If Luna liked it, it’s probably pretty good. What kind of book is it?”

“Luna said it was some sort of romance book.”

Hmm, you’ll have to read that later.

Your mind wanders once more as you begin rereading the paper in front of you.

You think about Celestia, of course. What else do you think about? You’re too tired to actually act on any of your thoughts, but that doesn’t stop you from at least thinking them.

Even though Celestia is so slender and fit, she’s still so soft! Her wing makes the greatest pillow and blanket that you’ve ever had. And her mane and tail are beautiful. They just float around, like they own the place. And they go so well with her eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Celestia,” you say, turning to rub a cheek against her folded wing.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious, dear,” she responds, continuing to read.

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. Just a compliment.” You turn your attention back to the paper in your hand.

You feel her lips press against your cheek. “I was only joking, sweetie.” She presses her snout against where she kissed, her warm breath running over your neck. “I love when you flatter me, as you do. It’s one thing when my subjects do it, but it’s a lot nicer when my coltfriend does it.”

You like it when Celestia calls you her “coltfriend.” You’ve told her multiple times before that you would be her “boyfriend,” due to the fact that you’re not an equine. But “coltfriend” is such a common expression that you guess it’s hard to replace it.

Not that you mind her calling you her coltfriend. You love it. It’s a term of endearment. And it’s adorable when she does.

“Where did that compliment come from?” she asks. “I doubt that’s written anywhere on your military report.”

“It’s not,” you respond. “I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about what? My flanks?”

You now remember that you’ve been massaging her flanks for God knows how long. “Uh...” you try thinking of a lie, but can’t. “Yep. I was thinking of your flanks.” Honesty is the best policy.

She laughs. “Well, enjoy them while you can. My Fashion Director informed me that my Royal Hindquarters are beginning to get a tad too large.” She pauses to think. “Probably because of all that cake.”

You sit up. “Wait. What?”

She turns her head back to face you. “I was told I need to go on a diet.”

“Who the hell told you that?” you ask, getting angry.

‘Who the hell in their right mind would insult my marefriend?’ you wonder. You can’t believe somepony would say something like that to their Princess and your marefriend. You should probably go downstairs and get a can opener, cause you’re about to open up a can of whoopass.

“Calm down,” she giggles, amused by how seriously you’re taking this situation. But how could you not take this news seriously? Somepony insulted your marefriend! And it is your duty as her mate to defend her honor, by taking the life of whoever dared to insult her in such a scandalous fashion.

You should probably challenge whoever it was to a duel. You remember Twilight had a magic duel a while back with some other unicorn. So clearly, duels exist. But you can’t do magic. You assume Twilight won that duel, considering the fact that she’s alive. You should probably head to the barracks right quick to get your sword, and hope that your opponent can’t use magic.

“It’s his job to tell me such things,” Celestia says, breaking you from your thoughts. “He’s a personal attendant of mine. Mizrahi? Remember him? A Princess must always look her best, no matter the circumstances.”

“Can’t say I do,” you say, mentally scrolling through the list of the countless ponies you have met while living in this city. “The name sounds familiar, though. Where have I seen him?”

“He attends every gala and ball I throw. You’ve met him. White fur. Short, black mane and tail. Brown eyes. Uhm... He usually wears a black suit and pink tie. At least, that’s what he wears to work.”

“Where does he work?”

“Here. In the Castle. He’s a very well known designer, but he works for me, so he designs here.”

        Oh! That’s right. You remember him. You don’t see him very often, but you remember meeting him at Celestia’s parties. You’re not entirely sure, but you’re fairly certain he’s homosexual.

        “So,” you begin, “you hired a gay stallion to tell you your butt’s big?”

        She laughs. “That’s one way to put it. It’s better him than any other stallion. I’m paying him to watch my figure, not to stare.”

        The government is crazy.

        “Makes sense,” you say, resting your head back on her wing and attempting to read once more.

        You both turn your attention back to whatever it is you’re reading. You let a few minutes pass by in silence. You try to read this damn report, but you’re getting too tired to concentrate for more than a few lines at a time.

        You’re ready for bed. It’s too late for this bullshit. You glance at your clock.

        ‘10:20?’ you observe. ‘It’s not late at all! Why am I so damn tired?’

        You yawn.

        It doesn’t help any that what you’re reading is the worst thing you have ever read. You don’t know why you have to read a report anyway. It’s not like the military actually does anything.

You hear a book slam shut, and turn your attention towards your Princess. You can’t see her face, but she’s shaking her head.

“Nope,” Celestia says, throwing the book directly into the fireplace. “No. Just, no.”

That surprised you. Was the book bad? Why did she throw it into the fire?

“Why’d you do that, hon?” you ask. “I was going to read it. And you didn’t even finish it.”

“Oh no,” she responds, shaking her head. “I don’t want to give you any ideas.”

“Ideas about what?”

She points a hoof towards the fire. “That book was...” she hesitates. “It was about... nevermind. I think it’s time to get some sleep. You’re welcome to join me.”
 
Whatever. “Sounds good to me.”

You rise from Celestia’s side and flop into bed, paper in hand. Your Goddess blows out some candles around the purple cushion before climbing in on her side.

She wordlessly shuffles and presses herself against your side. She places a foreleg across your chest, and rests her head on your shoulder, being careful as to not kill you with her magical dagger. The room is only illuminated by the dying fire, and the one candle on your nightstand.

You wrap an arm around her and pull her closer to you. You continue to make a half-assed attempt at reading this report, but you know it’s just not going to happen.

A few minutes go by with you just rereading the first sentence. By now, the dying fire at the other side of the room has officially died, and the wax from the candle has melted down to a stub.

‘Guess I’ll turn in, too,’ you think, yawning.

You turn your head to the side to blow out the candle. Only problem is, Celestia is sleeping on your shoulder. At least, you think she is. So if you move, she’ll wake up. And you don’t want her to wake up.

Without moving, you inhale deeply, and with all the strength you can muster, you blow.

The light doesn’t even flicker.

‘Shit.’

Not one to be outdone by some damn candle, you try again, and meet a similar result. Why does life have to be so hard sometimes? You try again. And again. And once more.

‘God damn! Why must you be so cruel to me?! Why must you insist on making my life so difficult?! Why-’

Your pessimistic thoughts are interrupted by a bright light flashing next to you, then total darkness. The candle extinguished.

“You’re so lazy,” Celestia yawns, wrapping her foreleg tighter around you.

You lean down slightly to kiss her forehead. “I work really hard to be as lazy as I am.”

You want to say something witty, but you’re too tired to think of anything more than what you said.

Your Princess rubs her cheek against your chest. “I love you,” she whispers.

“Love you too,” you respond, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

==========

        You awaken to the constant sound of banging on your door. Celestia is facing away from you, still asleep, and you’re pressed up against her back, an arm around her.

You turn over to check the time.

‘1:45? Really? Fuck off!’

They don’t, and the noise continues. Celestia stirs and groggily opens her eyes.

“What?” she asks.

“Don’t worry, hon,” you say, getting up. “I’ll get it.”

You hope it’s not another riot. You already did that once, and wouldn’t mind if you never had to do it again. You put on your robe so you’re not naked this time to stumble over to the door.

Upon opening the door, you immediately recognize the Royal Courier standing there. He snaps to attention when he notices you.

“Sir! Permission to enter, sir!” he shouts.

Wincing slightly from the shouting, you respond. “Uh, granted, I guess.” You’re too tired and confused to formulate a more proper response, so that’ll have to do. You want to ask him why he’s here in the first place, but he’s probably not here to talk to you.

He charges into the room at the speed of sound. You turn and notice Celestia standing in the center of the room, fully dressed in her royal attire. It doesn’t really surprise you that she somehow dressed herself and looks fully awake and alert as she always does. Magic explains everything, and she has been doing this for thousands of years.

He stops and bows in front of Celestia and levitates a scroll out of his saddlebags. “Urgent news from the north, Princess!” he says.

Celestia takes the scroll, unrolls it, and starts to read. Whatever is happening will probably last more than a few minutes, so you decide to get dressed. You walk over to your dresser, and put on whatever the hell it is you wear at the middle of the night when shit’s happening.

Completing your simple task, you turn back to Celestia. Her ears are folded back, and an uncharacteristic frown is etched upon her face. She levitates a blank scroll and quill from a desk on the other side of the room before rapidly scribbling a something down. When she finishes, she gives the paper to the courier.

She begins giving orders. “Wake every courier and messenger you can find, locate every single pony on this list, and bring them to the Throne Room, under direct order of Princess Celestia, herself.”

“Yes, your Highness,” he bows before quickly exiting the room.

Celestia turns to face you. “Something terrible has happened.”

“What?” you ask, walking towards her. “What’s going on?”

“Military forces from Northern Destrier Provinces have forcefully entered Equestria.”

‘Holy shit,’ you think, shocked. How are you supposed to be taking this news? You don’t know. Is this a dream? Are you dreaming again? Oh God please be a dream.

“I need you to wake Shining and Cadence and meet me in the Throne Room as soon as possible.”

You shake your head in an attempt to clear it from your thoughts. “Got it,” you say, before turning around and beginning to walk.

“Wait!” Celestia calls to you from behind.

You turn around as Celestia rushes to you. Before you can ask her anything, she wraps her wings around you and squeezes.

“I love you,” she says. “Whatever happens, remember that I’ll always love you.”

You wrap your arms around her neck. “I love you too, sweetie. Don’t worry, it’s going to be alright.”

She nods. You pull back, share a quick kiss, and leave your bedroom as fast as you can.

==========

        A disturbed Shining and Cadence follow you as you rush down hallway after hallway. You didn’t know if you should tell them why you were waking them up, but you figured you should. And you did.

        They thought it was some terrible prank you were pulling, but it’s not. You wish it was, though.

        Nopony speaks as you continue towards the Throne Room. The situation is too serious for friendly conversation.

        Luckily, the run is short, and you arrive in the Throne Room a lot quicker than you originally thought. The doors to the room are wide open, so you all just walk right in. You stop dead in your tracks, though, as you look around.

        There are ponies everywhere. The giant room is absolutely packed with stallions and mares of all shapes and sizes. One factor they all share is that they all look very threatening. Like the kind of ponies you wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of.

        Shining and Cadence walk right past you and towards the far end of the room. Celestia told you to meet her here, so you best go and find her.

        You wade through the countless number of chatting ponies. You’re taller than anypony else, so you easily spot Celestia and Luna sitting on the throne with three other ponies.

        You immediately recognize one as General Maximus. He is directly in charge of the First Legion, which you are apart of, among others. He’s the top ranking official in the Equestrian military. He even looks and sounds like a ponified version of Russell Crowe.

        Because General Maximus is directly in charge of your legion, you assume that you’ll be doing whatever it is he does, and following him wherever he goes. You have no idea where that is, but it’s not your job to know.

        As you continue walking, you also notice General Alexander. Well, you recognize his purple armor. He has the ability to wear essentially whatever he wants; he’s a Major General, nopony is going to tell him what to wear. He’s easily spotted in a crowd.

        The last of the three stallions talking with your marefriend is General Longstreet. You’ve met Longstreet on multiple occasions. The only thing that separates him from the average pony is his impeccable facial hair.

        All three generals are talking animatedly and pointing at various points on the map while the Princesses either nod or shake their head and point somewhere else.

        You and Shining reach the throne, stop, and salute your higher ranking officials. Cadence just keeps walking and joins the other Princesses on the throne.

“Good, you’re here,” Celestia says, noticing you have arrived. She turns to Shining. “Captain, we are in a state of emergency. We are in Code Yellow until further notice.”

You don’t know what that means, but Shining sure as hell does. “Yes, Princess,” he bows, before exiting back out of the room.

General Maximus pops up next to you. You didn’t even see him come over. “Ready to go, Lieutenant?” he asks.

“Absolutely, sir,” you respond. You turn to leave, but before you get anywhere, you hear a sweet voice calling your name.

You turn your attention back towards your Princess. “May I have a word in private?” she asks.

You turn to Maximus to stand at attention. “Permission to be excused, sir?”

He does that half-smile he always does when amused. “Granted. Oh, I sent a stallion to wake your Century at the barracks and retrieve them from their homes. So when you’re done here, go suit up, pack whatever you need, and form up at the Castle gates. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” You turn and walk out that back door you’ve never used with Celestia leading you into an adjacent room. Maximus takes the long way out of the room while Luna and Cadence continue talking to Alexander and Longstreet. You’re not entirely sure what you’ll be doing now, with General Maximus and the Legion and such, but you guess you’ll find out soon enough.

You enter a guest bedroom and Celestia closes the door behind you. It’s a really nice room. It’s clean; spotless really. It’s like nopony has ever slept in here. There are a lot of rooms you’ve never been in before, this one included. There are hundreds of rooms in the Castle, and you probably haven’t even been in a quarter of them. The Castle is so big, you probably never will be able to get into all of them.

“You can’t go,” Celestia says, breaking you away from your thoughts.

‘What?’ you think, looking at her as she moves to the far end of the room.

“I won’t allow myself to be responsible for something that may happen to you. So I’m not allowing you to go.”

“I know you’re concerned, sweetie,” you begin, “but I’ll be fine. I’m a man. I’m a Lieutenant in the Equestrian Legion. I’ll be fine.”

“But what if something bad happens to you? Then what? It will be all my fault for letting you go.”

“It’s war. Bad things can happen. But I’m a professional soldier, am I not? This is my job. I’ve been trained to this. I’ll be fine.”

“But I don’t think so,” she says, sounding a little more frustrated. “I want you to stay.”

“I can’t stay. You know that. After everything Equestria has done for me, how could I possibly sit on the sidelines when this country has given me everything? I love this country, and I’ll do anything to preserve it.”

You continue. “When I was found, I wasn’t put on display or experimented on. No. I was taken care of and provided for. If a magical talking pegasus popped up where I come from, I don’t know what would happen. I finally found a way to repay everypony, and this is how.”

“I understand. But you’d be doing a greater service to Equestria by staying here,” she reasons. “I want you here. I need you here.”

You sigh. “I’m not staying. I made up my mind when I joined the Legion. You were the one that allowed me to join in the first place.”

“I never would have let you join if I knew that all of this was going to happen. I’ve lost so many friends and soldiers because of war. I’m not going to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Celestia. I’ve been preparing for this day ever since I signed up. I’m going.”

Celestia has been getting more frustrated and angry as you continue to refute her demands. She clearly wants you to stay, and you do as well, but you just can’t. This is too important for you to pass up.

You don’t doubt that you’ll be a service to Equestria by staying with her. You’re sure you will. But you want to show everypony how grateful you truly are. If that means going off and doing your job then so be it.

“So you’re going to kill yourself in order to say ‘Thank You?’” she asks.

“No,” you respond as calmly as you can. “I’m going to fight in order to say ‘Thank You.’”

“Why won’t listen to me? Why are you trying to leave?” She lowers her head. “Don’t you love me?”

“What?!” That certainly surprised you. “Of course I love you! How could you even ask that?”

“I know I’m not used to being in a relationship, but now that I’m finally in one, I have no urge for it to end.”

“Nor do I! But that doesn’t change my mind, hon.”

She shakes her head. “You’re staying.”

“No, Celestia. I’m not. I can’t.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, and shakes her head. “Yes you can and you are!” She glares at you. “That is an order!”

It’s not like you to disobey orders, but you are adamant in your decision to fight. “I’m not some puppet that you can control! You can’t stop me from doing this, Celestia. I’m going and that’s final.”

“Why? Why won’t you just listen to me?”

“You’re... You’re...” you look at the ground, try to find the right word.

“Hmm?” she asks, impatiently. “I’m what? Go on, say it!”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“Right! I’m being unreasonable for wanting to protect you!”

“I don’t need to be protected! I’m not a child. I’m not some object that you can control a-and manipulate however you want. I’m going, and I’m going to be fine. And that’s final!”

Celestia looks really pissed, but does not say anything. She just takes a few moments to glare at you, and you look back. You don’t know what facial expression you’re making right now, but you hope, whatever it is, it conveys finality.

She closes her eyes, turns away from you, and looks down. “Very well then,” she begins, sounding calmer but still angry. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”

You stand at attention upon being addressed by your rank. It’s just a natural reflex, but it’s surprising that Celestia was the one who said it.

She has never called you ‘Lieutenant.’ Ever. She didn’t even call you Lieutenant when you officially joined the Legion. She never calls anypony by their military rank unless she wishes to convey her superiority. That she is their boss.

‘Did we just break up?’ you think while standing there. ‘She never calls me that.’

Remembering what she ordered, you decide to leave. When your superior says get out, you should probably get out. But she’s never treated you like a subordinate before. At least, not until now.

You bow deeply. When you stand back up, her entire back is facing you. She can’t even look at you.

You can almost feel your heart break at the sight. So this is how it all ends? After everything you’ve been through, it ends here, in this room, over some stupid disagreement?!

You make an about-face and exit the room. You walk out and close the door behind you. You turn around once more to see Luna standing there, looking at you.

You snap to attention once more and bow. “Princess Luna,” you say, politely acknowledging the fact that she’s there.

‘How much did she here?’

She probably heard enough.

Deciding now is the appropriate time to leave, you stand erect again, turn right, and walk down one of the many long hallways the Castle has to offer, hoping Luna doesn’t wish to speak with you.

‘How could she say those things to me? She, of all ponies, should be able to understand what I’m doing. And then she breaks up with me?... Well, she didn’t exactly say it, but I know she meant it.

‘How could she do that? After all we’ve been through, all we’ve done, she just ends it in the middle of the night?! Agh! Shit! This is so stupid!’

Your anger quickly turns into depression now that you’re alone.

You guess it’s over. You don’t want it to be, but it seems to be over now. And it’s not like you can do anything about it. The last and only thing you’ve had left just tore herself away from you. And for what?

You’re alone again.

You bring a hand up to wipe your eyes. You take a deep breath. You are a warrior, and warriors do not cry. Worse things have happened than this. You take another deep breath.

==========

        You’re fully suited up now. You’ve got your helmet, armor, sword, shield, and everything else a soldier has to his name. Which is basically nothing. The only possessions you have now are either small things you are authorized to bring or government issued property. So most of this shit isn’t even yours.

        One of those small essentials you are allowed to have with you is a small picture of your favorite pony.

        As you stand in front of the Castle gates with the rest of your Century in formation, you pull out your old wallet and extract said picture. You’re all waiting for the rest of the Legion to show up before moving out. Most of the other Cohorts have arrived, except for one, so that’s who you’re waiting for.

        You look down at the picture in your hand. It’s a good picture. You would know, you took it.

        In the photo, Celestia is resting peacefully in your bed. The blanket is barely covering her hind legs, rump, and cutie mark. Her forelegs are tucked in, her ears are folded back, and she has a soft smile on her face. She looks so peaceful.

But she was not peaceful after you took the picture. When the flash went off, she shot straight up and almost killed you because of her natural reflexes. Luckily though, she did not manage to kill you.

But that didn’t stop her from trying. She was so mad you woke her up, she chased after you. She eventually caught you, and she “punished” you for waking her up.

You smile pleasantly at the memory.

That’s all it is now, though. A memory.

        The picture’s not erotic in the slightest. You’re guessing most of the stallions around you probably have pictures like that, either of significant others, random mares in magazines, or some random sluts.

        You don’t know why pornography is a big deal in Equestria. Ponies are naked all the damn time.

        Whatever.

        But this picture is special. It’s the only picture you’ve ever taken in your time in Equestria. Random ponies would not be able to find a picture like this in a magazine or newspaper. They would not be able to purchase it, either. As far as you know, you are holding the only picture ever taken of Celestia in her private chambers.

        “What’cha looking at, sir?” Mace asks from next to you.

        You quickly slide the photo back into your wallet and your wallet back into your pocket. “It’s nothing.”

        “If you say so.”

        You hear the unmistakable sound of dozens of hooves marching across a cobblestone road.

        General Maximus walks past you. “Last Cohort has arrived, Lieutenant. Prepare to move out.”

        “Yes sir,” you respond. “Century, prepare to move out!” As you shout, everypony hurries into formation.

        You expect the General of the army would be elevated above everypony else somehow. But Maximus is not. It’s not there is any horse for him to ride.

        You’re the leader of the First Century, First Cohort, First Legion. And as your name implies, you will be marching in the front of the army. The only soldiers stationed in Canterlot is the First Legion, and now you’ll be leaving. And you don’t when you’ll be coming back.

        You turn your head one final time towards the giant Castle that stands over the city.

        You still love Celestia. You always will, not matter what has happened or what will happen. You squeeze your pocket, just making sure that you still have your wallet and your picture; which you do.

        “Soldiers! Forward, MARCH!” the stallion next to General Maximus shouts, prompting everypony to begin forward, and out of the capital city.

        Well, in the past couple hours, you’ve had your heart crushed and thrown away. You’re alone again. Alone. And now you’re off to war.

You could witness everypony around you get slaughtered. You could be captured and suffer endless interrogation and torture. You could be maimed. You could lose your limbs. You could die a slow, agonizing death at the hands of creatures that, a couple years ago, you swore didn’t exist. Anything can happen to you now.

        But one thought sticks in your mind....

        It could always be worse.