“Hello, Discord.” I say, oozing disdain. Really, of all the unhelpful-
“If you’re looking for Flutterby, well, she’s not home.” I would say Discord sneered, but I’m about fifty percent sure that’s his default expression.
“Well, then, where is she?” I sigh. Really don’t want to be dealing with-
“Flutterby’s at town hall, apparently, where I’m missing some absolutely wonderful chaos.” I would say Discord smirked, but that’s where the other fifty percent lies. The amalgamation of miscellaneous animal parts and biological detritus rights himself, lounging against a nearby tree lazily.
Celestia, he really knows how to get my goat. “Her name is Fluttershy, Discord.” I growl.
He blinks, sincerely surprised. That’s not an expression he wears often, and I take a small amount of schadenfreude from it whenever I see it.
Oh, who am I kidding? I revel in annoying Discord as much as he annoys me. Normally I’d feel rather petty about it but, seriously, he is anathema to anypony who likes order and organization. Heck, it’s his name!
“Fluttershy, well, duh, what have I been saying?”
“Flutterby.”
“Oh.” The mad god strokes his goatee in serious thought. “You have to admit, though, Twibright, Flutterby makes a lot more sense.”
“Since when have you ever cared about making sense?” I blink, then hasten to add indignantly, “And it’s Twilight. Not Twibright.”
“Close enough.” He mutters with an amiable shrug. Bah! “Now, normally you’d be right, Princess,” he slathers the word with as much malice as he can with a cheery smile, “but I was obviously wrong. Isn’t that deliciously ironic?”
“That’s an oddly cerebral form of chaos, Discord. What happened to the schtick?”
“My dear, are you seriously asking me to be consistent?” His face is in its default expression. Which one, the smirk or the sneer? Yes. “Oh of course, you’re never not serious are you.” Eugh. Double negative. I shudder from the sentence construction.
“So. Not that this little talk hasn’t been absolutely delightful.” I lie through my teeth, “But I really must find Flutterby- Gah! I mean, Fluttershy. Great, now you’ve got me saying it.”
Discord snickers from his shady spot, shaking the tree violently behind him in time with his harsh laughter.
“It’s been a pleasure and a privilege, Princess.”
As I trot away I’m struck by a sudden idea. It’s petty, it’s malicious and it’s a little bit evil.
Well, I’m feeling a little petty, malicious, and evil, so I open my big, dumb, brilliant mouth.
“You know, technically, by which I mean legally and not technically at all, I’m your landlord now. I have the power to evict you from the entirety of Ponyville if I so wish.” I shrug, “And right now I’m wishing it pretty hard.”
“No!” He lurches up, ramrod straight, eyes widened in terror. Then, in a flash, that look of fear was gone again, replaced with sickeningly-slick nonchalance. “I mean, not that I care or anything, it would just be... inconvenient.” He snaps his talons and a pile of luggage falls in between us. “I have all my stuff here, it would be a pity to have to move it.” With another snap, poof, it’s all gone.
I should quit now, whilst I’m ahead. That would be the smart thing to do.
“What stuff?” I goad him on.
He sighs, growls, and snaps his talons again. The luggage once more forms its little mountain on the ground between us. “As if you didn’t see it before.”
“Oh, I did, I was just proving a point.”
“Oh? And what point could that possibly be.” There’s a mask of arrogance, but if I look into his eyes I can see, dancing right behind the facade, a genuine sense of panic.
“Just that you’ve proven you can, in fact, move all your ‘stuff’ with absolutely no effort at all.” I chirp brightly, “Why, with power like that, I wouldn’t even have to give you two weeks notice! You could just, well, snap, poof, off you go.”
I can hear his mask crack. He looks at me, desperately. All the power of the universe, none of it matters here.
“Unless,” I add, raising a hoof placatingly, “Unless there’s another reason you wish to remain a citizen of Ponyville?”
His eyes dart back and forth and he starts pacing, occasionally glancing at me, sweating bullets. No, really, he’s actually sweating bullets. It’s... painful to watch.
“Alright!” he blurts out, facing me, “Alright, alright, I like it here, okay? You got me, oh mighty Princess, with your oh-so-mighty intellect. I like it here. There, I admit it. This place isn’t entirely boring and, frankly, I do so enjoy the company of a few good... eugh... f... f-f-f...” his face is contorted visibly from the effort, “friends!” Discord finally forces out, slumping into himself a little in defeat. “Fluttershy is just so kind and patient with me, and the pink one, well, she’s a little ball of chaos all her own, and everypony is so...” I watch as he flicks through his mental dictionary until the draconequus finally settles on; “not boring.”
The whole display warms my heart, in a rather macabre way. I didn’t know he had it in him. Basic equine emotions, right there for me to see.
It’s awfully humbling to see a god pleading before you.
Well, don’t I feel like the jerk all of a sudden?
“Discord, I’m sorry, I truly didn’t know how much Ponyville meant to you.” I mean, I’d suspected, but I’d figured it was because of all the towns in all of Equestria, Ponyville was probably the most desensitized to, and accepting of, the chaos there was ...
Sweetie Belle, Applebloom and Scootaloo live here, for instance.
But a genuine sense of compassion and camaraderie? That was different.
“Well, it does.” he scowls, back to his old self, “and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go spreading it around.”
I cross my heart, hope to fly, and stick a cupcake in my - oh, ho ho, not this time. “I Pinkie Promise.” It’s the least I can do.
“Yes. Well. Thank you.” Discord huffs, relaxing again. “I suppose we call this truce, then?”
“On one condition!”
“Oh?”
“If you ever figure out The Pinkie Sense, Discord, you have to tell me. Explain it to me, if you can. I gave up on working it out a long time ago, and I could use a fresh pair of eyes and for the love of Celestia I mean that figuratively please.”
“Pinkie Sense?” He blinks, confused, “Why would you expect me to understand it?”
“Because it’s so... random.” I trail off, lamely.
Discord grins, wide and genuine and dreamy, as he returns to lounging.
“I know,” he sighs blissfully, “Wonderful, isn’t it? It makes absolutely no sense, no sense at all.”
I sigh, too, resignedly. “I figured. Thank you, anyway.”
He glances up at me, scowling. “There’s no need to be sarcastic.”
I- what?
“No, no,” Shaking my head vehemently, which is such a good word, I implore, “really, I meant it. Thank you, Discord.” Wow, who knew I’d ever say those words, in that order, sincerely?
Discord looks just as stunned as I do.
“Oh. Well. I’m... sorry? Yes, I do believe I’m actually sorry, then, Twilight Sparkle. I wish you the best of luck in your search for my... good friend, Fluttershy.”
We stare at each other in mute shock. Did he actually just say that?
“Yes, I think I actually just said those words.” Discord mutters, fascinated. “And, what’s more curious, I do think I actually meant them. How-” He gags, “sickening.”
There’s a small smile gracing the corners of my lips as I wave goodbye to the silly panoply of parts, charging my teleport now that it’s had a bit of a rest.
Baby steps, Discord. Baby steps.
The town hall is a, big, conical building with a cheery, beautiful, outer shell to mask the blatant bureaucracy contained within. Actually, if one were to describe it in any definite manner, the phrase “if a park gazebo and a palace minaret had some manner of child together” came most readily to mind. It is also filled to capacity, with ponies spilling out onto the street.
One might say that the supply could not meet the demand, but that would be inaccurate, since there was hardly ever a demand for bureaucracy, but needs must.
I can already see the bulk of the crowd, and I’m only up to crossing the beautiful cobblestone bridge on the outskirts of town that I guess I own now. I suppose I own the crowd, too. I’m the cause of it, at least, whether it’s directly or not.
No, no, Luna is the cause of this, not me. They’re here for me, not because of me. Now is not the time for blame or self pity.
Scratch that part about blame, actually. Now is certainly a good time to blame Luna. In fact, come to think of it, now is probably the best possible time to lay some serious blame on Luna.
Now, to resist the incredibly tempting urge to blurt that out until somepony actually asks about it. I don’t want to be too eager to tattle on her.
Don’t I?
No! Bad Twilight!
But it’s all her fault-
Great, now you sound whiny. Nice going there, Princess Celestia’s favoured student.
Isn’t all this supposed to be about how I’m far more than her student now-
Okay, now you sound whiny and distressingly logical.
Quiet. I think that stallion’s giving us weird looks.
“Of course he is. His new despot has been yelling at herself for a solid minute now!” I shout.
Oh. Well. That certainly didn’t help.
“I have really got to learn to stop talking to myself like this. Ponies might think I’m crazy!” I pointedly ignore the peach-coated stallion running away from me. What kind of colour is peach for a stallion, anyway?
Hoof to chest, inhale... inhale... and push out the negativity. Hoof to chest, breathe in, breathe in... and push out the anxiety.
Okay. Okay. Thoughts are for inside your head, Twilight, and that is where they shall stay.
I mentally survey my previous comment for quotation marks. None are found, so I suppose it worked.
It’s good to have thoughts so organized that you can rely on their dependant grammar usage. I wonder how Discord’s thoughts are like-
No. No I don’t. That leads only to pain.
I need to lead only to Fluttershy
Fluttershy in this crowd.
Oh, bother.
More trotting. Now I can Twilyport again but, well, if I did I might pass Fluttershy on the way there, completely missing the point. So far, no sight of her, but that’s to be expected: Small, timid pegasus lost in a sea of a few hundred, disgruntled ponies? Let’s see, if I were Fluttershy, in a huge crowd, where would I be?
Well, obviously, where the crowd wasn’t but I don’t see how-
Wait.
Twilight, you’re a genius!
I give my wings a few good, strong, flaps, being cautious not to run into anypony, as I scan the crowd for pockets of emptiness. When ponies form massive groups you’ll usually find a couple of bubbles around, say, alcoves that you can’t hide under if you don’t want to risk losing your place in line. Better yet, for a Fluttershy’s purposes, they tend to be dark and filled with convenient shadows to hide in.
Fluttershy is in the first one I check. That’s not to say I find her quickly: It takes me a solid fifteen minutes of knowing exactly what I was looking for just to find where a cylindrical building surrounded by ponies had a corner to hide in, but she managed it.
“Fluttershy?”
“Oh... hello, Twilight.” A graceful neck extends from its hiding place and its yellow head smiles sheepishly at me from a particularly dark pocket of shadow. Her brilliant, soft pink mane still manages to look colourful in the cool blackness.
“Fluttershy, how long have you been hiding in here?”
“It’s okay, Twilight. I’ve only been here for a few hours, and I think the crowd is beginning to thin out.”
I glance over my shoulder. Yep, that’s certainly a thinning crowd I see back there, along with the flying pigs and, why, in the distance I can almost make out Tartarus freezing over, fancy that.
“Really.” Is all I say.
“Oh yes,” she replies, head bobbing earnestly, “it was much worse when I first got here. I’m sure that I’ll get in before they close. I hope so anyway.”
“Well, good luck with that. I was just going to apologize to you for all this,” sweeping gesture with hooves should make myself more clear if context isn’t enough, “and ask you if there was, you know, anything I could do about it.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine. I mean, it’s a little strange, I guess, but that’s just my opinion, and I don’t mean it’s strange in a bad way, oh no, it’s just... I’m sorry...”
“No! No, I’m sorry.” I frantically wave my hooves in what I hope is a completely non-threatening gesture. Fluttershy shies away from it anyway. She’s like that.
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry...”
“No, I’m sorry for everything. This is all my fault, not yours.”
“It’s all your fault?”
I’m about to reflexively answer ‘yes’ when I realize that, hang on, no, it totally isn’t.
“No. No it isn’t.” I say a smidge more proudly than I should. Is it weird that I feel proud of not being responsible for a town-wide disaster for once? I mean, that doesn’t even register on most pony’s radar as a thing, does it? “It’s all Luna’s fault.”
“I thought so.” The pegasus nodded tentatively, “There were batponies.” She said simply. “They were scary.” She appended, equally simply, with a firm bob of her head.
“Ah. Discord says hi, by the way.”
“Oh, no,” Fluttershy fluttered up to me from her hiding place, inspecting me with a worried eye, “he didn’t do anything naughty, did he? He can be such a-”
“No! Wow, is that the only way I can start a sentence right now?” Focus, Twilight. “I’m sorry, no, Discord was, if not a perfect gentledrake, than at least a tolerable one. He and I have come to an... understanding, of sorts, I guess.” I smile warmly at the adorably hopeful look on Fluttershy’s face, from the glisteningly wide eyes to the gentle, eager smile, “I guess I kind of see what you see in him, deep down.”
Fluttershy pounces me, and I’m briefly reminded of Pinkie Pie, squeezing me as hard as possible whilst still being classified as gently. Think of wrestling with a plush animal. “Oh, I’m so very happy to hear that, Twilight. I was so afraid that the two of you would never get along.”
I was about to say that we didn’t exactly get along but, looking into those big, watery, hopeful eyes, it would have been like telling a foal that Santa Claws doesn’t exist. No, scratch that, it would be like telling a foal that Santa Claws did exist, but you killed him in cold blood and and had done thoroughly unpleasant things to the body.
“Well, Twilight, I’m sure that whatever differences-”
“Hey! Hey, there she is!”
My head whips around towards the voice, only to see the entire crowd suddenly staring right at me, their piercing gazes drilling into my sensitive pony-flesh.
“It’s Princess Twilight! Over there!”
Oh, dear.
I turn back to Fluttershy and- Wait, where did she go?
Man, she is good.
The murmuring of the crowd's reaching dangerous levels.
“Fluttershy, take me with you!”
Resounding silence. I really, really could not blame her on that one.
I turn back to the crowd. Oh dear, oh dear, they’re obviously really, really mad at me. I mean, sure, I didn’t do this, but they’re still stuck here and I own them and, and, I mean-
*Pew*
*Bang*
“Gah!” an elegant, graceful, refined white unicorn with a perfectly coiffured mane shrieks an inelegant, ungraceful and hardly refined yelp as I materialize behind her at Carousel Boutique (Where everything is chic, unique and magnifique, darlings!). From the outside it looks like it was designed by Town Hall’s architect’s Fancy cousin.
“Rarity!”
“Oh,” she puts a dainty hoof to her chest and breathes deeply, eyes half-closed, “Oh, thank goodness, Twilight, it’s only you. I’d thought Sweetie Belle had found another ball of fireworks, again.”
“Another ball of fireworks?” Well, that’s evidently enough to completely overwhelm all (completely rational) anxious thoughts I was having.
“Well, yes, she and her friends thought it would be remarkably prudent to test the proposition of a ball of fireworks before they brought the catapult into the equation.”
I- what?
“The catapult? Actually, do you know what, Rarity? I suspect that the more questions I ask the more that I’ll need to ask, so I’m going to save us both a lot of pain and just blindly accept that as a totally reasonable answer.”
“Ah, the Pinkie Pie methodology. A wise choice.” Her hoof returns from chest to ground and she pirouettes, returning to her machines with a flourish. “Excellent! I presume you’re here, then, because you have received the news, by now, of what has happened, yes?”
“Well, yes-”
“And you want my advice and, presumably, forgiveness for inconveniencing me with the current situation?”
“Yes and no.”
“No?” Rarity asks, amusement barely concealed in her lilting voice, “Darling, I was so sure-”
“I spoke to Fluttershy first, and she sort of showed me how pointless it is to take the blame for something that isn’t my fault.”
“Ah. Well, that should save some time, then. Wonderful.”
The machines stop. All of them. Fabrics float daintily to their assigned messes. Rarity turns from her work with an accusatory eyebrow raised, poised venomously above some red designer spectacles, which she removes with a flourish.
Gulp.
“Tell me, dear, just how many of our friends did you see before moi?”
Oh, dear.
“All of them.” I answer honestly. Really, lying would just make this worse. I don’t know how that would even be possible, but I don’t like to tempt fate.
Well, I don’t like to tempt fate unless I note my methodology and plan on replicating the results, and now was not one of those times.
“I see.” Rarity trills sweetly, sweet as toffee, sweet as antifreeze, “So you have come to me last, then, hrrm?”
“Well, yes.”
“Well, darling, I do hope you understand that I can’t help but feel slightly offended.”
“It’s only because I knew you’d have the strongest opinion on the matter, Rarity, and I wanted to-”
“Do damage control first, yes?”
“Well...”
“Completely understandable, Twilight. So long as I wasn’t being snubbed, I suppose there’s no harm done.” She smiles warmly and trots up to me, eyes gleaming with a mixture of emotions so powerful and blinding I can’t help but look away. “Now, Princess, would you perhaps like some tea? Milk, two sugar, yes?”
“Err, yes, Rarity, some tea would be lovely, but you can just call me Twilight-”
“Ah, but I’m afraid I can’t, dear, for right now you are a princess and need to be addressed as such.” The meaningful twinkling in Rarity’s eyes had reached blinding proportions.
“But-”
“Ah! No buts! You’ve been handed a great opportunity here, Princess,” she spooning on sweet emphasis to the word even as sugar audibly plopped into a small, sorry, refined serving of tea, “One that would be wasted if we were to approach this with your usual levels of humility.”
I’m not humble! There are ponies far more deserving of that adjective than I!
“Yes, you are humble, Princess. Currently attempting to deny that, even to yourself – yes I can read you like an open book, Princess Twilight, now close your mouth lest you catch flies, there’s a good girl – should at least prove that much.”
“You said ‘we’.”
“I beg your pardon, dear?”
“Just then. You said ‘we’ were to approach this.”
“Oh, darling, I’m sure you’ve simply misheard me.” Rarity waves a hoof and shakes her head with a well-mannered titter, floating a cup of (admittedly delicious smelling) tea over to me, which I accept gratefully.
I can’t exactly contest that, so I resign myself to sipping my tea amiably. At some point I’ve found myself on one of Rarity’s comfortable purple sofas.
“There there, darling, I can understand that you may be a bit stressed,”
“You think?” I deadpan with eyebrow acock.
“Yes. Quite.” Rarity coughs into a hoof surreptitiously. “Regardless, you need to be looking at this as an opportunity.”
“I have been.” I sigh. “Think of how many exciting and unique ways I could screw up and hurt everyone I care about, and then everyone they care about. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Princess, the fact that you’re so concerned with the wellbeing of those who are affected by this speaks volumes of your character, I’m proud to say, but you’re being dreadfully short sighted.”
“Oh?” The eyebrow once more makes its dreadful ascent, “Please, Rarity, enlighten me as to how there is, in fact, a silver lining to my woeful inexperience and the sheer, total power I’ve been given to manage with it.”
“Frankly, Twilight,” Ah, it feels so nice to hear my actual name, again, “you aren’t thinking of all the good you could do. Ponyville is putty in your hooves!”
“Your point?”
“You have the opportunity to do something wonderful here, Twilight! A cultural renaissance! Ponyville, a new bastion for art, fashion-”
“Innovation.” My eyes widen. “Science.”
“Well, they do tend to go hoof-in-hoof with renaissances of the past, admittedly.” Rarity shrugs, “I suppose that’s not totally out of the question.”
Universities as far as the eye can see. Research and development companies, backyard sheds filled with tinkerers and little stores owned by bustling little cunning artificers. I blink, shaking the treacherously appealing mental images out of my head.
“But that wouldn’t be Ponyville.”
“Of course it would be, dear, it would just be an improvement! With the extra prosperity we’d be sure to attract you could see proper cobblestone roads, cultural evolution unprecedented, beautiful new buildings filled with beautiful new ponies to complement, not detract from, Ponyville’s... unique charms.”
“Prosperity does sound nice.” I admit.
“Wonderful to hear you’re in complete agreement with me, Princess.”
“Rarity?”
“Yes, Princess?”
“Why have I got the sneaking suspicion you were not, in fact, made a serf?”
“Oh, but I was, darling.” Rarity grins, a smile that twinkles those same, deadly, jagged gleams in her eyes, “that was until, of course, I bought my way into your minor nobility.”
“I see.”
“I believe that makes me Eques Rarity now, Princess.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I say, amusement tinged with exasperation.
“Because, darling, you know I’m far too fabulous for anything other than complete victory in the face of adversity.”
I smile. It’s a warm, sisterly smile as I’m reminded why, exactly, this pony is so dear to my heart. It’s eagerly returned as we both sip our tea.
A rather unpleasant thought comes back to mind. “That is, presuming, that the town doesn’t maul me, banish me or otherwise have my head on a proverbial, or not so proverbial, pike by day’s end.”
“Hrrm? Dear, really, are you truly worried about that?”
I blink at her, eyes narrowed.
“Yes. Yes, this is absolutely a thing that I am, in fact, very concerned about, something I understand that most ponies would find utterly reasonable.”
“Dear, have you talked to anypony in that ‘mob’ out there?” Rarity smirked, evidently amused by something.
“Well, no, but they said-”
Wait, what had they said? They were drawing attention to me, certainly, but they hadn’t said anything along the lines of “Grab her” or “Throw her head on a pike” or “This is all your fault and you are a Bad Friend”.
“Ah. You panicked and jumped to conclusions, didn’t you?” she smiled slightly around a polite sip of tea.
“No!” Yes. “They were all staring at me...”
“Ah. And-”
“And Fluttershy disappeared so quickly I assumed-”
“Fluttershy hid whilst an entire town’s worth of ponies was staring at her, bar a few exceptions like myself who got out by dint of being exceptional, and you drew your conclusion based off that.”
“No!” Yes... “Well, maybe.”
“Princess, you have an entire town that, by Royal Decree,” I could hear Rarity pronounce the capital letters, “has you to thank for more or less seceding from the rest of Equestria. I’m certain that they’re more curious than they are outright livid. Barring Mayor Mare, of course, who may be out of a job. I’m not entirely certain on that regard.” Rarity shoots me a burning glance just as I’m about to dive into a pool of self-pity, effectively evaporating it, “Which is not your fault as you reminded yourself when we started this delightful tete a tete.”
“Thank you, Rarity.” I say, utterly meaning it.
“Think nothing of it, Princess. Now, I’m sure that you do, in fact, have a crowd to address. I shall gather our little cohort and meet you back at the library, where we shall discuss... further plans.”
“You don’t have to sound so diabolical when you say that, you know? I haven’t even agreed to anything, yet!”
“Ah, yes, dear, but where would the fun in that be, now? Shoo, shoo, run along, I’m sure there are ponies dying of impatience, yes?”
Well, shoot, can’t argue with that.
Even if I want to.
“And by the way, darling, before you go, I don’t suppose if, by way of arranging some meetings with some influential ponies who might assist in Ponyville’s errant expansion, you’d wish if I sent a few prime specimens your way in a more, well, personal manner, do you?”
“No!”
...
Well, yes.
I sincerely hope the *Pew* arrived before the furious blushing did.
*Bang*
Oooh, that was... significantly pain-inducing.
Like, seriously, ow.
My horn lets its disdain for my frequent magic use be known in the most irritating manner possible. Again.
Okay, that’s one thing I can’t blame Luna for. The crowd I’ve popped in front of, however?
A whisper ripples through it, and it does ripple. A minty-green unicorn in front of me, Lyra, sees me, or heard me how would I know, alright, and whispers to her friend, Bon-Bon, a gossip that puts Rarity to shame. Not that a lady ever gossips, of course, no ma’am. Well, Bon-Bon is obviously not a lady, because from there her friends whisper and turn towards me, and then theirs, reaching out amongst the crowd, from a rabble of anxious, nervous ponies chaotically milling around to-
Scratch that. It’s a reverse ripple. Normally when you throw a pebble into a pond conservation of momentum pushes that water out, and you can see stillness become movement as the wave of energy travels along the surface. Here?
Here I’m watching that little wave expand among a sea of bustling energy and convert it into an ocean of stillness, all eyes upon me, wide with anticipation.
Anticipation of what, exactly? I don’t think even they know.
“There she is!” A male voice in the crowd screams, “Get her!”
“Banish her!” A mare shrieks.
“Throw her in the Everfree!” Some ponies shout in unison.
“She’s a Bad Friend!” The rest caterwaul as they rush the podium I’ve popped up behind.
At least, that’s what I expected to happen. That’s what I’m waiting to happen.
I realize I’ve got my eyes firmly scrunched closed, something that didn’t occur to me because of the sheer force of my potent imagination painting the picture that I totally didn’t want to see.
Well, on the bright side, now that I’ve lived through the worst case scenario nothing could be worse, right?
Right?
I open my eyes. They’re still all staring at me, silently. Just... waiting.
Okay, that’s... better? Right?
“Err...” Darn it, that’s a non-word, bad Twilight, use your actual big-girl words. “Hello?”
A part of me facehooves, hard, but another part pointedly reminds that part that ‘hello’ is still technically improvement.
Then the strangest thing happens. There’s another, proper, ripple shooting through the crowd as, with an eager grin, Lyra bows, low to the ground. Beside her, eyes wide, Bon-Bon quickly follows her lead. The ponies behind them notice and follow suit.
I see Doctor Whooves bowing, the mailmare making a valiant attempt and sort of falling over in the process, Bulk Biceps bowing in a way that looks more like he’s pulling the ground to him, two ponies who I recognize as Dash’s friends, Blossomforth and Cloud Kicker, after Blossomforth tactfully elbows Cloudkicker in the ribs, prostrate before me.
Vinyl Scratch, Pokey Piercey, Cheerilee, Thunderlane, Cloudchaser and Flitter, Golden Harvest, Minuette and Colgate and Lucky, dozens more, maybe hundreds, all ponies from around town I know. All bowing to me.
Me.
As one.
Bowing.
At the same time.
What the heck am I supposed to say? “Sorry about this inconvenience, you can stop bowing now” just doesn’t seem quite right, no matter how much I would completely mean it. No, no, these ponies expect something from me and I have no idea what it is.
“Everypony, I recognize many of your faces, below me, as friends and valued acquaintances. I am dreadfully sorry, I really am, for what Princess Luna has given to me as a gift, a gift that I did not ask for, nor that was hers to give in the first place. She’s given me what she didn’t know she didn’t have the right to give away, even if it seems she had an awful lot of legal ground to stand on.” I inadvertently punctuate the statement with a cough, which seems fitting, really, “There is nothing I can do about that, and again, I’m sorry, but I am going to get this sorted out as soon as possible, and until then I promise not to abuse the power that’s been invested in me.” Then, with a nervous grin that I fill with all the fake confidence I can muster until, hopefully, it looks something remotely regal, I say “Now, please, rise, my little ponies.”
A dark part of me takes a sick amount of joy in saying that, but, honestly, when you spend your whole life next to Celestia-
Well, let’s just say I’ve always really, really wanted to say that.
The crowd does, and one pony, a short, chubby, practically spherical colt whose name is either Snips or Snails, I always get the two confused, starts clapping. His friend, who is either Snails or Snips, joins him a few seconds later. Then some of the adults join them.
Oh, boy, I can see where this is going and I don’t like it one bit.
Okay, okay, I sort of like it a little bit, but does it count if I don’t like that I like it?
“Stop! Everypony, please!” I say. Except my mouth doesn’t move and the words don’t come from me.
Oh. I guess somepony else just said what I was thinking. Well, that’s good, now I don’t have to be the one to say it.
I turn to the sound of the voice, or rather I follow the crowd’s glare to its source, and see Mayor Mare, rounding the corner behind me, mane as Pink as Fluttershy’s or even Pinkie’s at the roots, which did not flatter her, already unbrushed and unkempt, tan fur. In her hoof was a bottle of what appeared to be Berry Punch’s finest.
“I am still the democratically elected representative of this town and I-” She stops, noticing all the eyes are off of me and onto her. I feel like an enormous weight has shifted. She must feel like one’s dropped on her. “-Am going to finish this sentence very carefully, it seems.”
“Mayor, are you- drinking?” I ask, concerned. She closes some of the distance between us as the question registers to her, hitting her like a physical slap across the face, eyes bulging a little as her legs lock up. She glances away from me and back at the crowd, then looks nervously at the bottle in her hoof.
“No! No, this is just non-alcoholic grape juice!”
Oh.
Her eyebrows draw tight and jagged across her face as flames dance in her eyes, she points an accusatory hoof.
“First you usurp me, and now you try to slander me!”
“Slander?” I deadpan. “Really?”
“If you’d truly wanted power, Twilight Sparkle, you should have run against me and let Ponyville decide, not bypass the democratic system entirely like some kind of despot!”
Ah. Finally, a pony who is behaving like I totally expected.
Is it wrong that I couldn’t feel relieved until somepony started yelling at me? It’s just that I get a really bad feeling when things are going too well.
And, really, today was an absolutely wonderful day in Ponyville, wasn’t it? Probably one of the nicest days in a long time.
“I did not bypass the system. I was forcibly installed, if you will.”
“Then why haven’t you stepped down?”
“Because, and I already checked, I cannot. I can pass it on to my heir, which I don’t have, or I could sell Ponyville, which I refuse. There are laws and traditions.”
A lot of the earth ponies murmured at that. It was one thing to break the law, some rules were meant to be broken after all, but to break tradition? That was simply not done.
“It wasn’t really much of an election anyway!” A stallion I recognize as Caramel calls out from the crowd, “Nobody ran against you!”
“Well-”
“And how many ponies bothered to vote?” A pink mare with a bright yellow mane I don’t recognize calls out.
“It’s true,” Mayor Mare grudgingly admits, “That polling numbers were at record lows last election, but I am confident that it’s only because I was running unopposed and nopony saw the point-”
“If it wasn’t for Princess Twilight then Winter would have come late again this year!” A blue stallion with a gorgeous voice, calls out. I don’t see him, but it’s hard not to recognize Noteworthy’s voice. It’s... pretty Noteworthy. Ecchem.
“And last year!” A few ponies shout in unison.
Wow, so, my absolute worst case scenario is actually happening... to somepony else.
Even I couldn’t have seen that one coming.
Mayor Mare’s sweating now, backing away nervously. What’s worse is, if anything, I’m probably on her side in this.
“Ponies, please, I don’t plan on forcibly ejecting the mayor from office.”
“You don’t?” she asks incredulously. Give me strength…
“No, I don’t.” I reassure her. “Even if your office has, unfortunately, for the time being, become invalidated and rendered moot I-” I cut myself off, stomp down on that train of thought and set fire to it. “-Will still need your assistance in making sure the transition goes as smoothly as possible. You know more about running this town than anyone, and I am woefully underqualified.” I admit with a bitter laugh.
“Well, they don’t seem to agree.” Mayor Mare harrumphs bitterly. I can’t blame her, that was a pretty thorough amount of disdain radiating from the crowd. I feel overwhelming levels of suck just for being in proximity to its target, I can barely imagine being the- well, no, I can easily imagine, and it’s very unpleasant.
“Mayor, this is the general public we’re talking about. Since when has their opinion necessarily been what is best for them?” Surprisingly, that argument works incredibly in my favour for a benevolent dictatorship, and I take a moment to appreciate the irony.
Well, at the very least, it elicits a defeated sigh. Not the outcome she had wanted but an outcome she was, more or less, ready to walk away with, it seems.
Then she does something else that completely surprises me, which in itself is a surprise because I thought I was totally out of ‘surprise’ quota today.
The former-mayor bows low at my feet, the very picture of humility. I can practically see it being made into a tacky motivational poster for her office.
“Princess.”
The crowd explodes into a cacophony of whoops and cheers and noise at that. A few in the front row even try to rush me, and I fold my wings protectively in front of my soft, sensitive, please-don’t-touch-me face.
I feel the deafening roar of the crowd.
I feel myself be lifted as somepony yanks me.
I feel myself be lifted higher and higher as a pegasus rushes me into the sky.
I feel Rainbow Dash laugh maniacally into my ear.
“Say, egghead, when did a dork like you ever get so popular? Looks like I got some healthy competition!”
Oh Rainbow I could so very easily kiss you right now if I weren’t under you, being barrelled towards the library at break-neck speeds.
Other than that, you know, rampant and unrestrained affection is totally yours, my friend.
We crash through one of the first-floor windows of my cosy library home, peaceful except for the shattering of glass as two full-grown ponies hurtle through it at aforementioned speeds. Fortunately I have Rainbow Dash insurance.
That’s not a joke. The premiums for it, however, are.
“Ah, Twilight,” Rarity greets us dryly from the center of the room, flanked by a rather amused looking Pinkie Pie and Applejack on her left and a rather concerned looking Fluttershy on her right, “I hope your journey was less problematic than your arrival.”
“Had a whole crowd eating out of her hoof, Rarity. I tell ya, she’s a natural.” Rainbow smugged again over my shoulder, though, kindly enough, it seemed to be on my behalf.
“Well, that’s good news, I suppose.”
“Yeah!” Pinkie chirped up, “Because imagine what would have happened if she hadn’t? Doom! Doom!”
She had grabbed Applejack’s head between two forehooves some time after the first proclamation of ‘doom’ but before the second, eyes bulging out of her skull impossibly and capturing AJ in a reluctant stare.
AJ seemed less than amused as she gently pushed Pinkie off of her, it must be said.
“Well, not that this impromptu reunion isn’t wonderful or anything,” under other circumstances that might not have warranted sarcasm - I’d have to find something else to be sarcastic about, it sustains me - “but I’d really like to talk to Spike.”
“I believe he’s upstairs.” Rarity proclaimed. She appeared to be the spokespony of this little soiree. Of course she was. “Buried under a less-than-entirely metaphorical mountain of paperwork.”
“Do you mind if I talk to him, first, then? Not that I don’t value you girls’ input, of course,” no need to accidentally insult your friends, “but I haven’t seen him since I left this morning.” This morning, all those long weeks ago. It certainly couldn’t have been the mere hours the clock was informing me.
There was a general mumbling of agreement from my friends, aside from Fluttershy, whose mumbling of agreement was a lot more wholehearted, if no less of a mumble.
Right. Spike, then.
I trudge up the stairs, groaning as my weary muscles protest; I’m really not used to panicking this much in a day before being hurtled through a window. It’s usually one or the other.
“Hello, Spike.” I say as I open the door to my bedroom upstairs and am promptly greeted by... a lot of paperwork. Wow. That is... Did it snow scrolls? Was there a papery blizzard in here? The entire room is covered in a blanket of them, my bed, my bookcases, my drawers, my floor- All paper.
A green dorsal fin appears, cutting through the paper ocean, as the great Spike shark starts swimming towards me. He strikes! Clinging to my leg in an affectionate, if somewhat desperate, hug.
“Twilight! You’re back!” Well, I feel appreciated all of a sudden, “They keep coming!”
“What keeps coming?” I take another glance at the paper. Oh. “Nevermind, I think I just worked it out for myself.”
“It’s - Uuurp!” Another scroll forcibly erupts from my little assistant, singeing my knee, “Make it sto-op!” He wails.
"What is all this?”
“I didn’t get a chance to read all of it,” yeah, no kidding, “But it’s all from Celestia, or her lawyers, who should totally know better than to force unfeed a dragon this much in one sitting.”
“You are going to get a lot of ice-cream out of this, my number one assistant. Did you read any of them, though?”
“Oh, yeah,” Spike mumbled, stroking his stomach, “Celestia says ‘if the nobles are agreeable, and don’t squabble over shreds of power they didn’t even know they had, this should be cleared up in less than six months.’”
“So, how long is it actually going to take?”
“Probably a bit over two years.”
“Two years?”
“Yeah.”
I slam the bedroom door behind me and storm down the stairs..
“Rarity.”
“Mm, yes, darling?”
“Let’s discuss my terms of surrender, shall we?”