The Long-Eared Temptress

by Gabriel LaVedier


Almost-Deleted Chapter: The Stallion in the Mirror

“He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche

“We call them cool, those hearts that have no scars to show, the ones that never do let go and risk the tables being turned. We call them fools, who have to dance within the flame, who chance the sorrow and the shame that always comes with getting burned. But you've got to be tough when consumed by desire, 'cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire.”
-Garth Brooks, Standing outside the fire

“You really are quite a prize, aren't you?” Blueblood blew a kiss towards his image in the mirror and popped his brows. “Ahh no wonder you are the envy of all the stallions and the desire of all the mares,” He said with a soft laugh and another blown kiss. “You really do have it all, don't you?”
“You think you have it all?” A voice said, from nowhere. It was a hauntingly familiar voice, even if it carried with it an unmistakeable tone of malice.
“Well of course I have it all!” Blueblood looked around in surprise and alarm, though he tried to keep his voice calm. He had to maintain some dignity despite things. “Mares want me, stallions want to be me and all look up to me as a shining example of how one can change in good ways. And that ignores my wife! Ahh yes... I feel like a robber, taking her away from the world. Can you believe she actually deigned to marry me?”
What?!”” The voice grew more powerful, the evil within it spiking as it practically shook Blueblood. “You would think any other creature on the face of the planet is superior to you in any fashion?”
“My wife is indeed better than I am in many ways. Certainly stronger, much kinder though I am getting much better, she is easier to talk to, and she has a much easier time trying new foods and situations. But I must say I am starting to enjoy the carnival fare she has been introducing...” Blueblood said, drifting off into personal musing.
“No!” The angry voice soon was seen to have an identity. It was Blueblood's reflection. His look was hard and cold, eyes narrowed, mouth turned down and teeth showing. “You weak and stupid fool! You think you have everything? Where is your power?! Where is your ego? You think yourself less than your wife and you think yourself so great?”
“We are partners. We have our areas where we are weak or strong but really, I recognize in myself that weakness others used to mock. I see now it was correct, and Connie is teaching me to rise up to be greater,” Blueblood said, peering deep into the mirror. “And as for my power, well, the Celestian Honorarium is not very temporally powerful any longer. But I still have all my pomp and appearances and that has become much more well-received of late...”
“You fool!” The Doppelganger reached through the mirror, using both legs and magic to yank the real Blueblood through the silvered surface.
Blueblood found himself dropped rather unceremoniously into the middle of a dark, stone-floored space. There was nothing but a single, weak light overhead casting a dim circle around him, leaving everything else in the shadows. “What... what is this? What has happened.”
“This is the domain of a real stallion, a true Prince, one with real power and real superiority,” The malevolent Doppelganger said, slowly strolling into the light. He looked like a cruel-eyed and scowling version of the true Blueblood, alike in near every respect, save for a necklace. He wore a gold chain that ended in a lavender unicorn horn. “You are a pathetic pretender, knowing nothing of anything, whether it be power or pleasure.”
“I'll thank you to not presume about the nature of my pleasure,” Blueblood snorted, waving dismissively at the imposter. “What my wife and I do in the privacy of our boudoir is ours and ours alone. I do not need you probing into it.”
“I'd be doing more probing than just in the bedroom, and more than just with some wife,” The Doppelganger said with a lewd grin. “But that is not the point. Where is your will? Where is your real power? Why can you not do all that you ever wished? Take power and pleasure and treasure as you will?”
“What? Like some Discordian? Preposterous! Great-auntie Celestia and Great-auntie Luna would have my hide for such a callous and blatant breach of the laws of Equestria,” Blueblood said, appearing wholly disgusted and scandalized.
“You do not speak in terms of your own will. You speak of others. Why do you not cow your relatives into submission or convince them to do as you do? Take your desires! Grasp them tight and do what you wish! How can you let yourself be so neutered?” The Doppelganger stared at Blueblood. Even though he was quite incensed, there was a sort of calm fury about him.
“They care for the nation. How can they not? The ponies and others rely on them for guidance, for stability, for support. They give, and they receive. They have always tried to show me this. I was such a selfish little foal, even a grown stallion. And now, in my role as husband, I can see so much more clearly there is more to life than simple pleasures...” Blueblood said with a slight smile, running through his memories of Connie and his great-aunts.
"That's true," The imitation Prince said, "Life is also a chance to make others experience pain." He said it with such a casual tone, lightly touching the horn on his necklace.
“Wh-what?!” Blueblood's head shot up, a disbelieving look in his wide, almost-fearful eyes. “Pain? What manner of foolishness is this?”
“You mean to tell me that you, as Prince, even a neutered and blighted one, never took advantage of your power and secrecy and made another suffer at your will?” The imposter looked almost shocked by the news, peering rather disbelievingly at Blueblood. “I thought there was a trace of real will in you.”
“I... I cannot even fathom such a thing. To suffer? To what end?” Blueblood's voice was small and quavering. He was trapped in a dark limbo with a monster.
“To my end. To endure agony because I will it. To make them bend to my will. They will say anything, do anything, all for the promise that I will make it stop. They will say how much they love my advances, how grand, glorious and perfect I am. They think I will obey their pathetic, meaningless wishes. I have my plans, and they presume too much, to the point of insult, to think those plans have anything to do with what their pitiful little lives need or want. Imagine, being told what to do, to listen to a mewling peasant if they say 'please stop,' 'don't hurt my children' or even 'no.' Impossible. Unthinkable. None tells a Prince 'no',” The false Prince said, a sickening smile on his features, even as he ran through the things he detested.
“But... why... why do that with so much agony? Why not... be grand, glorious and perfect?” Blueblood had nowhere to go. He almost felt as though if he stepped out of the weak little circle of light he would be swallowed by the darkness forever.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand," The ersatz Prince said, fiddling with the horn on his necklace again, "My work is noble. Only through great pain does one gain an appreciation for pleasure."
“So you have suffered too? You know this kind of pain?” Blueblood grasped the subject like a drowning stallion clutching a slimy piece of driftwood. Some little strength came back to him as he imagined some explanation existed.
“Don't be ludicrous,” The imposter spat, giving a dismissive wave of his hoof. “I have never suffered in my life. I am a prince. I have been held aloft, in my proper sphere, above every petty concern. But their pain becomes my pleasure. By examining their agony and how I control their suffering, I may bring my pleasure to grand new plateaus. I am a libertine. There is nothing more important than my pleasure and my desires. My demands are absolute and imperative, nothing could interrupt them. Not even the nation. It will putter on, or else they will see how I may bring them agony. My forces will rush through and torment them until they obey once again and do as I say.”
Blueblood could not process the very idea that was being presented. It was utterly incomprehensible to a native Equestrian mind like his. He focused on some other thing. “I notice... you wear a horn. From where... did it come?” His mouth was dry, and tongue heavy. Anything would be preferable to the conversation he was having.
“Oh this little trinket?” The imposter nudged the horn and smiled. “It came, of course, from a unicorn. One who had died.”
“Oh, I see...” Blueblood cudgeled his brain to come up with an explanation that he could fit into his view of the world. “Was it... something that belonged to an ancestor which you have chosen to use as a means of honoring your family?”
“No, no. It is very new. It came from a mare within my domain,” The Doppelganger said.
“Oh! Oh I am terribly sorry for your loss. She must have meant much to you. Your close lover, perhaps?” Blueblood asked. He looked at the horn. There was something vaguely familiar about it.
“A virtual stranger. Some nameless scholar who violated my strictures. I invented charges against her, tortured her to death and keep her horn as my prize,” The libertine impostor said, with a very light tone.
Blueblood staggered back, one hoof leaving the circle of light. “P-prize?” Rather than being swallowed by the dark, the step made the light go up a bit more. It showed there was a shelf just out of sight. Beneath it he could see something that looked very much like a cider barrel. He recognized it because the kitchen stocked a few, at his great-aunt Luna's request.
“A prize. A souvenir. Proof of my power and conquest. I know what it means. Those in the know, the cognoscenti, my fellow libertines, understand what it is to do as I do,” The imposter slowly started to trot around Blueblood, smiling his sickening smile. The light began to rise slowly, and show at least what was on the shelf above the cider barrel. There looked to be a geode piece, whitish crystals growing out into blue spikes, as well as a beak whose size meant it could only have come from a griffin.
“You can't simply do something like that. You cannot impose your will over another in such a fashion. They have the right to live as much as you do,” Blueblood said. His eyes darted to another shelf coming into view. There rested something that looked like a Wonderbolts' hood, but in black, with something of a sinister appearance. Beside it was what appeared to be a cookbook, the cover smeared with some dark red, nearly black, substance. “Peasants though they are their effort shores up your nation. As they toil so you gain, as it has been carefully explained to me. They matter, in fact, more than you...”
“None matters more than me! Even my fellow libertines are subservient to me. They know their place and are grateful I let them stay there,” The fake Prince said with some venom, continuing to work his way around the real Blueblood, the light revealing steadily more. A few small clothing stands came into view. One held a torn and stained dress, that evoked some vague memory in Blueblood of a past Grand Galloping Gala. One held a star-bedecked cape. The last was smaller, sized for a foal. On it was an ill-made sweater with five legs, while leaning against it was a broken scooter, also sized for a foal. “None are beyond my power. Should I lust for any thing in my domain, from treasure to mares, to foals, it is mine. Nothing-”
“Ridiculous!” Blueblood found his voice, and started to circle around the imposter himself, eying the creature warily. Even so he noted what he could see was almost the last shelf in the room. It held a white rabbit's skin, and a very ornate wooden staff that was very familiar indeed. He had seen that zebra apothecary carrying such a thing, and it had left a strong impression. Attached to it was a red ribbon done up in a bow, stained with what he could no longer deny had to be blood. “The land works by give and take. You rule because others have allowed it. If you are unobtrusive and inoffensive they will support you! I learned that well. Canterlot voted to overturn a conviction because I did the right thing!” Blueblood snorted sharply and drew into the circling, tightening the spiral he was making with his Doppelganger.
“Bah! Others. Worthless, stupid, pitiful, pathetic creatures! Dirt, or worse. If they are lucky they will be made to lick the mud from under my hooves and they will thank me for the chance to clean the filth from my glorious form! I will reward them with a kick to the stomach, and they will thank me for that as well. They will weep in joy as I kill all they love with beheading or poison and spare them the torture I have saved for those who excite my lust,” The ersatz Prince was growing less smooth and more grating, also pulling his spiral in tighter. “Other ponies exist for my use. My fiat is law, and nothing else is more important! What else could be?”
“This selfishness will give you a life that is brutal, bloody and short! Your own friends will take your madness to heart and take you at your word! You think you are safe? Not among selfish egos that can see you as no better than any other. Even if they fear you, their fear will be your end,” Blueblood came in close, but not too close, to his mirror image, a fury in his eyes and his teeth bared. “I will live a long and happy life, loved by the population, able to do as I like with sensible limits and savoring each moment that I have love and family with me. I will lose nothing of any value and gain what cannot be bought. Years. Years and life.”
“I fill one year, one blood-soaked, agony-filled, scream-drenched year with more life than all your hollow years of limitations and the lie they call love. Love is weakness and not a thing more. Foolishness taught to weak creatures, made to turn ponies into fawning little victims. I have power! I have broken free from limits, free from the lie of love and concern for other ponies!” The Doppelganger had his horn glowing threateningly, angled down slightly towards Blueblood.
“Not life, only death. You say you live but you live like a miser. Locked inside yourself, never growing. A small, stunted, pathetic thing that does not deserve the power you have. Your own population will turn on you, and your own guards will see the writing on the wall and know they can survive by turning on you. Your ego blinds you to the real. You are not immune to anything!” Blueblood also had his horn lit and down, just waiting for the right moment. “You speak only of ponies. The population is so much more than that. Changelings, Diamond Dogs, buffalo, griffins, zebras, dragons, and never forget about donkeys.”
“Non-ponies are a filth that can be exploited, crushed and thrown away. They are lesser things, mere objects. Suitable only for slaughter and slavery. To do anything with any of them is only to reinforce their lowly place, to show they can be used like cheap toys and then crushed without guilt, more garbage for the pile,” The fake darted his eyes aside, to the last area that had been in shadow. There was nothing there but a peg. And on that peg were two long, gray pieces of skin. One end flat but ragged, the other pointed. Like long rabbit ears. “You need not even learn their names-”
With a cry of wounded rage Blueblood closed the gap between himself and his imitator, striking his horn-tip against the impostor's. He gave another mighty cry as every last once of his magic surged through in one grand pulse, not only overpowering and pushing down the other magical charge but destroying the horn as it flowed down. When it hit the libertine's forehead it exploded in a burst of rainbow light and sent the screaming creature to his back. Blueblood was on him in a flash, hooves at his throat, pressing in solidly. Unicorn or no, his righteous fury was giving his strength. “You beast... monster... how dare you even have the audacity to look even the slightest bit like me?!”
Even though his horn had been obliterated and blood oozed from the blasted spot on his head the ersatz prince still had a grin on his bloody lips. “Just... like me...” The fake pushed and struggled against Blueblood, his indignation at opposition shown through his activities. “Murderous, pain-fixated, and set to your own will in opposition of others...”
“That is not even a good bluff,” Blueblood huffed, pressing his hooves in harder. He was no murderer, and wasn't even sure if he was doing anything. “I am nothing like you at all. I take no pleasure in doing this. As they say to the border guards and the Everfree watchers, this is a grim duty that serves. However it may hurt, it serves all of Equestria. And that is the true difference. I feel pain in doing this, regret, remorse. But that does not stop me from the grim truth.”
“More... lies...” The imitation Blueblood choked loudly and gagged a bit, his eyes bulging out. Still he somehow breathed on. “Lies of the slaves beneath true rulers. You think it is a grim duty but you do it. You love it. You relish it. You cherish this freedom to engage in the blood lust you have repressed. You kill me because it is in you to do so, to make me servant to your will. You are me, through and through...”
Blueblood felt a tremendous strength well up in him, his hooves angling in more, lifting the head of his Doppelganger and finally silencing him. “No! I am not like you at all. In times before my great-aunties sent the Undergods to Tartarus to suffer forever! Monsters big and small are put down by guards and have been for ages! Even now, some unknown constable was instrumental in killing the last free Undergod! Understand this, I will never take your side on anything! I love Connie and for some reason I will never understand she loves me. I love her with all my heart, all my soul and all my will. I swore in the name of the Elements of Harmony that we would be together forever and a day. Whatever fate waits for us after the end of our lives we will be together through that too! Your big talk sounds like a baby whining! This libertaritine... liber... whatever nonsense it is is sick and horrible! And I! Will! Not! Be! You!” With a sickening crack the imposter's neck snapped and the hateful thing went still.
As soon as the fake died the scene practically exploded, all the evil artifacts blasted to dust, the very environment atomized to leave a misty void. Even the body dissolved into mist, leaving Blueblood alone, yet not really alone. A swirl of the mist revealed a dark cloak, which was swept back to reveal Princess Luna, her face neutral. “Well met, great-nephew. Well hast thou carried thyself in this endeavor.”
Blueblood was still panting, his eyes wide and halfway between frightened and upset. He snapped his gaze to Luna and gave a soft shiver. “This... this was... what was this? Great-auntie that was horrifying! This... odious mockery of me was like some kind of soulless beast and yet he tried to convince me of everything he thought! What sort of-”
Luna threw up a hoof and stopped Blueblood in mid-sentence, using the force of the Royal Canterlot voice. “Hold, great-nephew. What sort of stallion be but full of echoes? Thou hast ever known but plenty and security, and that all thy whims be done, as existed at the start of the path of the beast thou hast slain. Thou must know fear, loss, privation. But are not your other great-aunt nor I willing that thou shouldst be harmed in the world of waking. Thus it was to place before thee this. The end of a road, and mix of dreams that have been seen in the hearts of slumbering nobles. No, and thou wond'rest, naught be real, yet they dream them in the same token.”
Blueblood held his fury for a moment longer before all the information sank in and made him realize she was right. “Restraint. Compassion. Understanding. Connie.”
“Aye. Thou hadst about thee sanguine spirits of good sooth. 'Twas the aegis 'gainst the fate of pure selfishness. Hast thou restraint in thy soul, howe'er thy sire and dam stamp'd thee. Hast thou now seen the conclusion of the path that doth lack such. May thou never want for good sooth and fine company,” Luna said.
Blueblood nodded slowly. He looked around the blank space he occupied, almost still seeing the horrible collection that had previously occupied the place. “That was hideous. Such a dark thing to imagine, collecting objects stolen from the dead. The dead he had killed. And even from... from foals. And Connie's... is that really what... I mean... you look into the dreams of all, even the nobility? And they dream it? It seems impossible...”
Luna nodded sagely. “Aye, 'tis so. But, 'tis so, great-nephew. What is real doth not become mere fancy that we think it so, but fancy may be real and it be pressed into light of day, out o' the crown of Mad Tom of Bedlam and Mad Maudlin, howe'er they may dress their madness in broadcloth of manners and nobility. There must e'er be guard 'gainst such fates. Lesser nobles be restrained by greater and greater still by my sister and my self. But restraint may fail. And while we may not peer into the lives of other nobles too deeply, in yours may we gaze. Blood art thou not yet art thou princely born all the same, and it doth shew in thy countenance in these days as thou takest thy position as husband and friend of the fair maid that did enrapture thy soul. As thou beest family, the concern be greater, and liberty all the more to peer deep in thy doings. So it was and had to be that thou didst find this monster, that thou didst peer deep into the abyss of madness, and that thou didst slay the beast and prove that thou art worthy of thy birthright.”
“Was he right?” Blueblood asked, plaintively, looking down at his front hooves. “I felt some confused mix of emotions when I finally crushed the life out of him. Could I be... a monster?”
“Touch thine horn's base, great-nephew,” Luna said.
Blueblood reached up and touched the base of his horn. The one division between him and the imitation. The imitation had worn a murdered unicorn's horn on his neck. Blueblood had a gold-and-silver band around the base of his horn. His wedding ring. A perfect match for the bracelet Connie wore. “Connie...”
“Would thy bride have thee were thou a monster? As thou hast said, she be thy better, thou hast bended thy knee to her of thine own will. She doth remain with thee, of her will. Answer thou thine own query: Art thou a monster?”
Blueblood slowly curled up on the ethereal ground, a smile on his face. “Good night, great-auntie.”
“Bon nuit, great-nephew. May all thy fancies be sweet, soft and filled with thy true love,” Luna said, slowly fading from view.

Blueblood awoke suddenly, his knowledge that he was dreaming forcing him out of the dream and back to the real world. He was exactly where he had been. In the center of his tremendous, soft bed beneath the smooth, filmy covers, pressed tight against his wife's body. He was still himself, not some kind of insane monster.
With a heavy sigh of relief Blueblood curled up against Connie, squeezing her solid body tighter, nosing at the back of her neck. He buried his face deep in her sweet-smelling mane and smiled. “I love you, Connie. You finished what my great-aunties started. You made me a real prince.”
Connie shifted slightly and stretched her limbs a little bit. “Mmm, dear... it's still dark out, and I'm a little tired. Go ahead and do what you need to. I'll take a shower in the morning and change the sheets.”
Blueblood actually laughed at that and slid his snout up, to tease at Connie's ears. “I would prefer you be able to respond to me. I do not have lust on my mind. Sometimes I think I should tell you I love you. I think every waking moment I should tell you.”
“Calm down, Blueblood. We're already married. You don't have to keep trying to impress me,” Connie said with a kind of fatigued mirth. “But if you really feel like saying things like that I won't object. Some sleep would be nice but if you want to be mushy and sweet... I think I can handle that.” Connie's ears folded back, to rest on Blueblood's face, wiggling a little bit to tickle him.
They were so warm, so active and cute. So very alive. As he lipped at them Blueblood remembered the horrifying image of them, separated from Connie, like mere things. All those objects, stolen from others that had been taken away from those they truly loved. To diminish love, to take security and longevity of the nation for the sake of a selfish desire. Foolishness. “I am no fool,” Blueblood muttered as his lips worked along one long ear.
“What was that dear? Ironically, I can't hear you very well with my ear in your mouth,” Connie said with a braying laugh.
“I said I stopped being a fool. You told me I was one, and I was pushed down a path to cure myself of that. You made me this prince I am. I am only glad I could return the favor. You make a better princess than I do a prince,” Blueblood said.
“Let's call it a draw. I have a lot to learn, you have a lot to unlearn. But you're getting better,” Connie wiggled her ample hind end against Blueblood and relaxed herself. “We can talk about this more in the morning. Sleep sounds just so good right about now.”
“I shall join you shortly,” Blueblood whispered, as Connie's breathing grew shallower and her ears went still. Soon enough she had fallen back asleep. He hugged her carefully, making sure not to wake her again. He could face the stallion in the mirror. He could face a thousand stallions in the mirror. They could lie and threaten all they liked. He had a long, deliriously happy life ahead of him, stuffed to the rafters with love, fun, humor and his sweetheart. He would not trade all those long years for anything, least of all some empty promise of pain and mismanagement. With that comforting thought he drifted off to join Connie in sleep again.

“You can't build a peaceful world on empty stomachs and human misery.”
-Dr. Norman Borlaug

“Our commitment to human rights must be absolute, our laws fair, our natural beauty preserved; the powerful must not persecute the weak, and human dignity must be enhanced.”
-Jimmy Carter

“To be true to ourselves, we must be true to others.”
-Jimmy Carter