//------------------------------// // 34. When Life Gives You Lemons - Part Two // Story: Letters From a Little Princess Monster // by Georg //------------------------------// Letters From a Little Princess Monster When Life Gives You Lemons - Part Two The door to the library banged shut, and Trixie looked up, tucking the copy of Treating TBI: Cliff Notes under a thick romance novel and putting on a fake ‘Librarian’ smile, only for worry to sweep all of her pretensions to one side. It took only a moment to hurry over to the depressed little purple alicorn who had stopped in the doorway and hustle her the rest of the way inside, sitting her down with a steaming cup of coffee (beans borrowed from Rarity) and a few frosted cookies (borrowed from Pinkie Pie, of course). Trixie had learned not to pressure Twilight into talking about anything she did not want to talk about, because that just shut her up like a tiny purple safe. Instead she took a page from Zecora’s book and simply said nothing, relying on the conversational vacuum to suck the words out. “Friendship sucks.” Twilight landed nose-first on a cookie and began to push it around the table, a repetitive motion that Trixie was fairly certain was referenced in Chapter 12 of her book. Instead of looking it up, Trixie poured a little cream (borrowed from Applejack, by way of Bessie) into her own coffee cup (borrowed from Fluttershy) and stirred, making a little jingling note as her spoon (gifted from Rarity, because you simply do not have proper spoons in your house, dear) rattled against the edge of the coffee cup. Finally, the cookie had been pushed around the table enough for Twilight to begin nibbling on the edge, then one tentative bite, and finally making the entire thing vanish in one bite. “Fighting about money is dumb,” she added, her mouth full of crumbs. “Divvying up the take from the lemonade stand, I presume?” asked Trixie, pouring a glass of milk to sit beside Twilight’s untouched coffee. At Twilight’s brief nod, Trixie continued, “Yeah, I’ve lost a couple of partners that way. Ungrateful idiots. Supporting acts who thought they deserved as much money as I did. Ha! I’m better off without them.” She continued to stir her coffee, adding some chicory and tartar sauce before taking another sip. “Still, I miss them at times. I wonder what they’re doing since we broke up, and remember what fun we had.” Twilight looked up, her violet eyes deep and dark. “They don’t write?” The way she said it sounded like a condemnation worthy of significant prison time, but Trixie waved a hoof in dismissal. “That’s the way it is with friends on the road. You make ‘em, you bed — I mean you tour with them for a while, and you go your separate ways. At least you have your mother to talk with; All I had was Spike, and he’s no fun at all when discussing romance or cash.” The glass of milk levitated over to Twilight and she took a deep drink. “Milk is new. Coffee is new. Bits are new. Mom doesn’t like bits. She thinks we should just give all the money away.” Trixie spluttered into her coffee. “Give it all away? You must have collected a couple hundred bits from that stand. Doesn’t she think you should keep anything? What does your father say?” There was a distinct perking up in Twilight’s ears that Trixie had been watching for, and she continued with practiced style, “Oh, I forgot. He went off to Manehattan en route to Zebrica. The only way to get a letter to him would be by Royal Courier.” One beat pause, shift tone to more optimistic. “Hey, I know. Why don’t you write him a letter? You can bring it by here, I’ll send it off to Princess Celestia, and she can dispatch a courier to Manehattan. They always used to be able to track me down whenever I was traveling, and I’m sure the Princess would be more than happy to help.” As well as read your letter to find out just what is bothering you so much, but since I plan on doing that too, I really can’t complain. The idea did seem to cheer Twilight Sparkle up, and she made significant inroads on depleting Trixie’s cookie supply before trotting back out the door. “Cute kid,” murmured Trixie, getting her book back out and preparing for literary combat again. “Getting so worked up over a hoof full of bits. I just hope her weird father can set her straight when he gets the letter.” ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ Like a chip of wood flung into a raging river that eventually winds up in a long, lazy swirl of stationary water, Tallgrass settled down in the Manehattan park and attempted to attain oneness with the universe, in particular the lazy zeppelins that floated into the airship dock, the great steamships wallowing in and out of the port, and the rumble of the distant underground train station. Whatever in the spirits that had propelled him at such a clip to Manehattan was gone, a relentless pressure transformed into a soft breeze of pleasant thoughts and soft rhythms. The earth spirits far beneath his hooves rumbled and thumped to the pattern of the trains, the air danced overhead with the motion of the pegasi and their wagons, swayed with the wind through the tall buildings constantly in a state of construction, and shook in a bass profundo as the griffon airships trundled along their paths in the sky. Counterpoint was played by the melodious voices of the water spirits as they danced around the hulls of all sorts of ships, from tiny to immense, in a merged concert of music that he only wished Zecora were here with him to experience. The heat of the afternoon had been baking down on Tallgrass in his zebra form for quite some time, and he stirred from his meditation with a yawn and a stretch. In the distance, he could see a billboard with a familiar yellow pegasus drinking a tall glass of lemonade, and the sight induced a certain dryness in his throat that was certain to be a constant companion in Zebrica, only without the ability to just wander over to a nearby lemonade stand. In this case, from where he was sitting he could see no fewer than three lemonade stands in the park, each with fresh faced young ponies hoofing out glasses of iced sugary goodness. As a changeling, Tallgrass was used to picking through a certain amount of identical for minor differences, but each of the lemonade stands was about as identical as they could get without being stamped out by a factory, with only the bright faces of the young fillies and colts different. Well, except for one stand that had a shy young changeling at the cashbox. She apparently did not want to stand out among her peers, so she had taken on their appearance. Unfortunately for her wish of anonymity, she was also indecisive, and shifted shapes several times during Tallgrass’ short walk. “One glass please, lass.” He placed two bits carefully on the counter and kept a warm smile going while being served and relieved of a second pair of bits for a refill almost immediately afterwards. “Excuse me, mister?” The young changeling filly looked up at Tallgrass with big violet eyes and a nervous expression. “Could I ask you a question?” Suppressing the urge to respond that she just had, Tallgrass finished the rest of his lemonade and nodded. “Ask away, child of my kind, and I will open up my mind.” “Well. My friends and me have earned a lot of bits from our stand.” The little changeling filly fidgeted, looking so much like Flower for a moment. “Whatdoyouthinkweshoulddowiththem?” Tallgrass considered the question even as the little filly gained a few curious looks from her fellow lemonade entrepreneurs. It seemed a little odd for her to be asking a stranger for advice like this, even if she could tell he was a fellow changeling. Up until a few months ago, the answer would have been simple: give it to the hive. Now the answer had gotten much more complicated, and to some significant degree he was a father to the change. The silence made it difficult to wrap his mind around the problem, but he had some experience due to the various jobs he had held while harvesting love for the hive, and there even was a potted fern or two back at the hollow tree he shared with his wife. Other than that, bits had been just a tool to an end. It was amazing how a bare few bits given to ponies in need would trigger a wave of affection, but even massive piles given to the wealthy would garner only a few drops. Several years ago, he had even done one season of Hearth’s Warming as a department store Santa Hooves, and had been staggered at the volume of love harvested as a result, without spending a single bit of his own. Their practiced generous nature had been a habit the changelings maintained even after their freedom from the everpresent gnawing of hunger, as a symbol of appreciation for their new queen and what she stood for. Still, little ponies had vast differences in the way they treated money, which come to think of it applied to big ponies too. The having and the getting was never as good as the giving, but that still did not answer the little nymph’s question. “What do your friends think should be done with the money you all have earned, little one?” “Spend it.” The little changeling filly’s shoulders hunched and she frowned fiercely at the floor. “Buy stupid stuff.” The irritation from the little changeling filly’s friends swept over Tallgrass like a damp wool blanket, all sticky and itchy. “Hey,” interrupted one little colt. “I was wantin’ to buy a coat for me mum.” “Und I vas vanting to buy coloring books for my little sis,” said a hefty earth pony filly that Tallgrass had to look at twice to determine her gender. “I was going to take us all to the movies,” declared a young unicorn colt with a mottled section of coat around one eye that made him look like he was wearing a patch. “But if you don’t want to come along, Mixi—” “Not you,” said the little changeling filly with an aggravated sniff that sounded far too familiar to Tallgrass. “My real friends.” There was a brief period of silence as the metaphorical Hammer of Realization hit Tallgrass on the head with the impact of a dropped piano. Real silence covered the area, extending from the stunned little fillies and colts all the way to every single spirit that Tallgrass had been listening to for the last few hours, all whom were listening in return, as if there were somepony present who they wanted to please. Somepony he recognized who was behind the violet eyes of the little changeling filly due to the familiar sensation he was getting through his hooves, not to mention a familiar taste of fear that he had been doing his best to keep drained to low levels for as long as he had been around Flower. He reached out and put a hoof on the shoulder of the young filly before she could move away and said, “My Flower, please do not try to run. Our discussion has not yet begun.” “I’m sorry, Father,” sniffled the changeling filly. Tallgrass shook his head. “From this tiny tot, did you ask permission, before borrowing her body for your important mission?” “No.” It was most definitely Flower’s voice, and although Tallgrass could feel his heart melt under that plaintive tone, he held himself firm. “It is not just herself to whom you should make amends, but this little sprout’s many friends. What is even more, my dear Flower please, there is one other whom you should appease.” It was stupid. He had never done this before, or even guessed that it could be done until Zecora had shown him. It was far more difficult than he would like to admit, a mixture of Zebra and Changeling magic that should only have been attempted under strict supervision by an experienced Zebra shaman, but of course there were none within a hundred miles of the place, and in order to impress this critical lesson on his Flower, it was needed now. The earth spirits beneath his hooves pressed up in support, the air spirits pressed down to give him strength, and the water spirits’ song in his heart rose to a crescendo as he reached through the hivemind for one particular thread and pulled, hoping that he would eventually be forgiven by the queen for his actions. Dear Princess Celestia and Princess Luna I know what you’ve said about meeting with Twilight, but I really didn’t have much of a choice today. I’m still not comfortable with my new abilities, and being pregnant, and having a sister-in-law who can do the things she does, so I think I’m just going to have to ‘Princess Up’ and deal. By the way, I noticed some Zebras in Manehattan today. Is this normal? (I’ll explain at dinner with Luna tonight, I promise) Everything that Monster touched turned to fire and ashes, from changelings to lemonade. It was a crushing weight of despair that she recognized far too well, and the lessons she had tried to learn from the Self-Help section of the library had been far less useful than just spending a few hours with Featherweight and Scootaloo, skipping rocks across the river. Both the books and her friends had encouraged her to make a list of good things in her life that she could think about whenever the darkness lapped at her small pool of light, so she closed the eyes of the changeling filly she was ‘influencing’ and counted her blessings. I have parents who love me, friends who love me, sisters who love me, brothers who love me. Even the changelings who should hate me for what I’ve done, love me with all of their hearts. The little changeling filly she had cast her spell on was not only cooperating with Monster, but contributing her own energy to helping or she never could have succeed in reaching this far away from her own body. It was a weird tickle deep in her chest to feel the threads of love that connected every changeling to each other, a gentle flow of love wafting into her heart from more minds than she could comprehend in her fuzzy vision. Warmth flowed through every atom of her being, even warmer than the summer sun that shone down on her smooth black carapace, and because she was getting used to it just a little bit, she decided not to use changeling magic to change forms this time. Switching to her body shape would make the spell easier to control, but she would lose that welcome adoration of her far-extended family. The zebra spell gave her a far better idea of how changelings saw the world, even if using it was not on her study guide from Green Grass, and she wondered if it would be permitted to try it on Peep or Viola and experience Ponyville the way the changelings did, or if she would be in danger of losing herself in the enticing embrace of the hivemind and never emerging back into her own body. The love filling the threads that touched all changelings was a powerful thing, washing away the cloying fear that adhered to her and distributing just a little tiny tolerable fleck to each of the distant changelings. And one powerful source of love directly in front of her that made Monster open her eyes and look up into the warm smile of her adoptive father, disguised as Princess Cadence. “Hello, Fath— you’re cheating!” The words just blurted out as she looked the pink alicorn up and down. Tallgrass had done far more than just take on her shape, he was actually channelling her somehow using zebra and changeling magic, making her heart beat rapidly as she vacillated between being insulted at having her adopted father turn the tables on her and being frightened at the cascade of thoughts that roared through her mind as she looked up at her former fillysitter and fellow princess. “Hello, Twilight. Again.” “Princess Cadence!” gasped the rest of the little lemonade vendors, except for the dejected changeling filly, who slumped and looked between her forehooves. Monster basked in the warm glow of love shining over the back of her neck, a torrent of purity that flowed around and through her without even the slightest appearance of effort on Cadence’s part. Changelings feel like this around her? No wonder they worship her. “Please pardon us, children. You see, Twilight has… ‘borrowed’ your friend Mixi for a few minutes to talk with her father, and this was a very dangerous spell that she should not have used by herself. Twice,” she added after a moment. “I’m sorry,” mumbled Monster, wishing she could just melt into the ground. “That’s quite all right, Twilight.” A cool hoof touched the back of her neck and Monster swallowed before looking up into those loving violet eyes. “I know you didn’t mean any harm,” said Cadence, running her hoof down the side of Monster’s neck and lifting up her chin. “However, you knew this was possibly dangerous to both you and Mixi, and you did it anyway, and without proper supervision both times. You need to be punished.” Monster closed her eyes, but to no avail. There was a gentle touch of moist lips to her forehead, and when Monster looked again, it seemed as if Cadence was about to explode from suppressed laughter. “Now, Twilight. Is that enough, or should I give you two kisses?” This time a chuckle did break away from Cadence’s tight control, echoed by both Monster and the little colts and fillies around her. Once she quit giggling, Monster leaned forward and nuzzled up Cadence’s neck. Tallgrass had the transformation absolutely perfect, right down to the little hint of Shining Armor’s scent in her mane, and a faint but noticeable smell of chocolate from a probable cheating on her diet. The proximity of her old foalsitter released memories in one long gentle stream, causing Monster to repeat a familiar phrase she could remember using many times in her presence. “I promise never to do that again, Cadence.” After taking a step backwards, Cadence lowered her head down to rub noses with Monster. “I didn’t say that, Twilight. Green Grass left you a list of safe spells to practice with unicorn magic, so what I want you and Zecora to do is to make a list of zebra spells for you to practice, but only when she can observe and approve of their safety, and only on subjects who agree. Does that sound fair?” Monster nodded, her expression shifting from worried to a different type of worried. “Trixie says you’re knocked up. Is this safe for you two?” “Ahh…” Cadence spared a hoof to rub along her belly. “If I don’t take too long.” She added another kiss to Monster’s forehead. “The correct term is ‘pregnant,’ Twilight. Now scoot along. I need to have a few words with Mixi before I drop my spell. And here.” Cadence kissed Monster again on one cheek. “Give that to Trixie for not watching you closer. You’re very precious to us, Twilight.” “Oh!” Monster looked up with a start. “Forgot why I did it. My friends argue about the money we earned. They want to spend it. Mom says to give it away. Wanted to ask Dad. Or you,” she added with a cringe. Cadence shook her head. “What is more important to you, Twilight? Your friends, or the money?” “Friends,” she said, looking back at the awestruck little colts and fillies running the lemonade stand, each of them seeming like one of her own friends back in Ponyville. “Then return home and let them know.” Cadence cupped a hoof against Monster’s cheek. “What’s in your heart is far more important than what’s in your bit pouch. Now go. I’ll talk with you later, Twilight.” * * * It was, determined Tallgrass, a most peculiar sensation to be a passenger in ones own body, politely tucked away in one corner of your mind while somepony vastly more powerful controlled every muscle and tendon. It could have easily been the most terrifying moments of his life if he had not been the one to wordlessly extend the invitation to his queen, and known without any doubt that she would treat his body with respect, as well as give it back when she was done. The experience gave him new respect for Princess Luna and her thousand year imprisonment inside her own mind, as well as a tiny bit of terror of his own on just how easily his adopted daughter had reached across thousands of trots of land to take control of the little changeling nymph. Still, he could not consider her anything other than his daughter, a fragile young nymph with wings still damp from transformation, even if her magic could still rock the foundations of the world in ways he could not imagine. As Queen Cadence consoled the little changeling nymph Mixie (who considered the entire experience of being controlled as fantastic fun) and spent a few precious seconds of time with her little Manehattan friends, Tallgrass felt both a sense of accomplishment at having dealt with Flower’s little potential disaster and a strange sense of foreboding that continued to lurk over his shoulder even after Cadence released her spell and relief flooded over him. The gloomy premonition did not change when he returned to his familiar zebra guise, grateful that his ribs were no longer troubled by tiny little fluttering kicks from Cadence’s foal, and certainly did not go away when he looked down at all of the bright and shiny little faces of the lemonade stand workers. They all seemed to be waiting on something fantastic, like he was a spluttering fuse vanishing into a rocket, and it was made only worse when he noticed all of the little ponies had perfectly blank flanks. “Gee, Mister Tallgrass,” gushed the little changeling filly. “I had no idea zebras could do that. What can the rest of your zebra friends do?” Rest of? Tallgrass slowly turned around, suddenly aware of the continuing silence that the spirits had maintained while Flower had been controlling the little changeling filly. Standing in a rough semicircle behind him were five old zebras, with two of what he thought were ibex and a lone greying donkey somewhat tucked behind them in subservient positions. The tallest of the zebras, a sharp-eyed greying mare with more gold rings on her neck than he had considered possible before, stepped forward, raising her head and looking around once she had gotten squarely in front of him. “Power has touched here guided by your hoof and will. Spirits obey you?” “Errr… Tallgrass paused, feeling the anticipatory silence of the surrounding spirits and the glare of intent gazes from the watching zebras, one of which appeared to be totally blind but was still looking in his general direction with that same grim glower. It was like the worst stare of disapproval he had ever gotten from his wife times five, with the added pressure of the curious young ponies at the lemonade stand. The elderly zebra snorted and pawed at the ground while waiting, snapping again in crisp staccato syllables. “Answers are needed, honest and truthful, strange creature. Are you a wise one?” “Yes,” he responded, feeling somewhat out of his comfort zone and much like the time he had confronted Nightmare Moon while wearing Celestia’s form. “I am a Imetabiriwa of my tribe, named Tallgrass. And you are?” he asked, trying to get a handle on the situation, or at least see if he could divert it to become Somepony Else’s Problem. “Seeking the wise one horn and wings born as one flesh to our home return.” “We seek the fulfillment of the prophecy, the Imetabiriwa na Anga,” said an even older zebra mare, adorned with seven gold neck rings that seemed to drag her head down. The few steps she took to approach him were erratic, hobbling forward with the assistance of the two young ibex. The first zebra glared, stepping even closer to Tallgrass and saying, “Danger has gone now. To our home she must be sent. Trained and guided well.” “You want to take Twilight Sparkle back to Zebrica?” said Tallgrass. “Why?” Teeth bared, the elderly zebra put her nose against Tallgrass and snarled, “There is no choice here. Spirits have spoken to us and we obey them.” The second elderly zebra chuckled as Tallgrass backed up in a curve, trying not to be pinned against the lemonade stand by the irate first zebra. “You might as well take us to her, before Mshairi gets angrier than normal. We all felt her presence here, even me, Old Kavu. She’s going to her new home, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”