//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: The Perilous Romance of Swans // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Making careful, precise movements, Gosling used his wing to manipulate his soup spoon. He was more than a little nervous. The unicorns (and the alicorn) at the table spent no effort to feed themselves, but being a pegasus made using a soup spoon perilous. “Sleet…” Lifting his head, Gosling watched as Celestia addressed his mother. He nibbled on a potato he fished out of his soup bowl and waited for his mother’s reply. Blueblood seemed lost in his own little world, saying nothing, while Raven watched every move he made. “Yes?” Sleet wiped her face with a napkin as she spoke. “You call Gosling your ugly little duckling,” Celestia said, speaking each word with slow caution. “And you are wondering why he is called Gosling and not Cygnus?” Sleet smiled and her eyes glittered as she withheld her laughter. “Why, yes, actually.” Celestia leaned over her soup bowl a bit. “I didn’t know the difference.” Sleet began to chortle and one ear twitched. “It makes him all the more special to me. Stars as my witness, I thought little swans were called ‘goslings.’ When I found out the difference, it was too late. He was a yearling. Turns out, I was the silly goose.” Hunched over his soup bowl, Blueblood began snickering and almost dropped his spoon. Celestia eyed her nephew, a surprised expression upon her face, and Raven began chortling as she tried to swallow some soup. She almost choked. Gosling, who always thought this was funny, laughed a little. He looked at his mother, then at Celestia, still worrying about if they would get along. Celestia seemed amused. He lifted his head, coughed, and then said, “When I was a foal, I knew I was in trouble when my mother said to me, ‘Gosling, your goose is cooked!’” Abandoning her best manners, Celestia began giggle-snorting. Blueblood looked at his aunt, his eyes wide with surprise, and the Princess of the Sun was forced to set down her spoon as she tried to compose herself. Raven’s chortles became all out giggles. Sleet laughed, a musical, happy sound, and then Celestia let go with a booming laugh that filled the dining room. “So, I have to know, how did Gosling get his cutie mark?” Raven asked. “It was impossible to keep him out of the bathtub,” Sleet replied. “Just keeping him out of the water, oy vey, what a chore! I couldn’t turn my back for a second. Thankfully he has that fine, water shedding pelt that some of us pegasi get, you know, the sleek, silky pelt that water just doesn’t stick to. We should all be so lucky… eh. He taught himself to swim.” Sleet took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and laughed for several long moments. When she opened her eyes again, they were bright and merry. “One evening, when I was worn out, I fell asleep on the sofa. The little stinker, he goes into the bathroom and he pours the entire bottle of bubble bath into the tub… bubbles everywhere! He floods the bathroom ‘cause he can’t see the water level in the tub. And he’s in there, swimming in the tub, and I wake up to his splashing.” At this point, Celestia’s sides were heaving, but she withheld her laughter so she could keep listening. Gosling felt his cheeks growing warm. Raven was grinning like a cat finding a canary in a cage. Blueblood sat smirking. “He was still a yearling… you know, that phase in life when they’re so cute they can get away with anything and their mothers can’t kill them for being little pains in the tuchus.” Sleet’s eyes darted over to her son, lingered there for a moment, and then she looked at Celestia. “I’m worn out, been on my hooves all day, and he’s in the tub with bubbles everywhere going ‘quack quack quack’ while the water is still running. Oy, what’s a mother to do?” Gosling’s ears drooped as he gave his tablemates an embarrassed grin. “So I go into the bathroom to start scrubbing him, at least his tiny little tuchus can be clean, you know? You know how little colts can be… so much enthusiasm… hey Mommy, listen to this! And then the little stinker toots his own horn!” Sleet waved with her hoof at Gosling as if she was trying to fan away stink and rolled her eyes. “Foals, such trouble! But we keep having them for some reason. You’d think we’d’ve learned by now, but no!” Celestia brayed with laughter and her eyes were squeezed shut. A tear rolled down her cheek and made it down to her jawline before being absorbed into her pelt. Blueblood was shaking and biting his lip. Raven had a look of almost sadistic glee upon her face as she listened. “So I go in there to clean him up and I find this little rubber ducky on his backside. There it was. As a mother, I was relieved. He had his mark! He was too happy to even notice and he quacked while I scrubbed his cute little tuchus.” Sleet sighed and wiped her eyes with her foreleg. “The landlord had to help clean up all the water and I was schvitzing because I think he’s going to be angry, but he understands and he’s very nice about it.” “Forgive me for being so blunt,” Blueblood said as his aunt tried to get herself back under control, “but you don’t just come from the pegasi tribe, but you come from the first pegasi tribe. I can’t help but notice.” “Yes, we come from the First Tribes,” Sleet replied, now looking a bit nervous as she looked at Blueblood. Celestia went silent, Raven went still, and Gosling looked at Blueblood with one eyebrow raised. Where there had once been laughter, now there was tension. Gosling glanced at his mother and then back at Blueblood. “I meant no offense.” Blueblood sat up a little straighter. “It is a proud and noble culture. Good values. A focus on traditions. I find I rather admire your kind.” “Why, thank you,” Sleet said, relaxing just a little, but not taking her eyes off of Blueblood. “Forgive me for asking, but I don’t know much about this subject. I’m curious… can somepony fill me in?” Raven gave Sleet an apologetic glance. After taking a deep breath, Celestia said in an orator’s voice, “Raven, there were ponies living here in this land before the Founders came to what is now called Equestria. Discord very nearly destroyed them. My sister and I worked to save them. They were all that remained of a vast, beautiful civilisation, which Discord ruined.” “Meshuggener!” Sleet spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. “When Discord was finally defeated and the Founders drove away the brutal winter caused by the windigoes, they welcomed the First Tribes into their new nation. It is a touchy subject, as one might imagine, as the First Tribes were here first.” Celestia’s voice was calm and gentle. “The First Tribes worshiped the alicorns,” Blueblood said in a casual, conversational tone. “Built temples dedicated to them. Had an entire religion built up around them. That part of their culture is lost to history.” “Eh? You never told me this, Mother.” Gosling looked over at his mother with a raised eyebrow. “What is there to tell? That way is dead and lost to us forever.” Sleet heaved a sorrowful sigh and shook her head. “I told you what you needed to know. The past is in the past. Some things are gone from us. What can we do?” Sleet shrugged and shook her head. “I still remember,” Celestia said in a low voice. “When I was little. The temples… the cities… the murals, the art, the beauty everywhere. All of it was a labour of love for them. We never asked them to make anything. They just did… out of adoration. Just like Gosling painted me a sunset.” Celestia’s voice wavered and her barrel hitched. “I think Gosling would worship you if you let him,” Sleet said as she tuned her wise, loving gaze upon her son. Her eyes misted over and she rested both of her front hooves upon the edge of the table as she gazed upon her son with unabashed adoration. “Ma, she’s just a pony, like us,” Gosling said to his mother in a soft, almost apologetic voice. “Oh, I don’t know…” Celestia let out a sigh and nudged Gosling as she smiled at him. “It might be nice, if somepony did it in a way that wasn’t annoying. Like making my sunsets better.” Gosling started to reply, but a unicorn mare standing in the doorway cleared her throat to announce her presence, and then in a clear voice said, “Main course is served.” Gosling, looking at the alicorn beside him, began to dream of the future. The hedge maze was empty save for Celestia and himself. Gosling had no idea which way to go, so he followed Celestia’s lead. There was a cool breeze that rustled through the hedges and topiaries. The path was lit by bronze sconces that blazed with a bright orange glow. Moths circled the sconces, but some came too close to the flames within for their own good. The path was gravel, but not just any gravel, it was gravel made from crushed white and pink marble. It crunched underhoof with each step taken, and hard, pokey edges prodded Gosling’s tender frogs “I like your mother,” Celestia said to the pegasus who walked beside her. “I’m relieved to hear that,” Gosling replied. He drew in a deep breath, his cheeks puffed out, and he exhaled in a slow, deliberate manner through pursed lips. “I know how she is, and I know that she can annoy some ponies, but I love her to pieces and I would never want her to change.” The gravel crunched with each step, a steady, repetitive sound that was somehow soothing. The hedges rustled as the breeze continued to blow, sometimes gusting. Gosling looked at the mare beside him; she was a good deal larger than he was, which presented a number of challenges. Surprising her with a kiss would be difficult in the future—he couldn’t help himself, he thought about it often, her head was simply too high up for a quick, sudden peck. When standing at his full height, the tip of his nose came up to the base of her neck. The size difference would present other problems as well, but Gosling tried not to think about that—it wasn’t proper. But he did think about it. If this relationship progressed, it would be something that would happen at some point. It would be expected of him. He had no idea how to approach the situation or what the proper etiquette was for mounting one’s monarch. His mother had tried to prepare him for almost anything in life, but there had been no lessons about this. “You’re quiet,” Celestia said to her silent companion. Gosling felt his cheeks grow warm and a prickling heat crept up his neck. “I was thinking… I have a lot on my mind.” “I bet you do.” Celestia’s voice was almost teasing. “By the way, all you have to do is ask.” “Ask?” Gosling came to a halt, his mouth went dry, and he stood there blinking up at mare who was now looking down at him. “Ask what?” “I suspect that you were thinking about kissing me,” Celestia said in a voice that was thick with amusement. “It is dark, the firelight from the sconces is romantic, and we’re in a very private hedge maze. I know I’ve thought about it.” “It seems soon.” Gosling shifted from his left hooves to his right hooves and then followed after the princess when she took off walking once more. She was thinking about it! She was looking ahead and he couldn’t see her face. “I mean, I, uh, well, I don’t want to be disrespectful or do anything to upset you. I really don’t want to mess this up in any way shape or form—” “Then be bold,” Celestia said in a voice that was bare of any details of her feelings. The princess turned a corner and Gosling followed. Ahead, there was a patch of grass, torches, some statues, and Gosling realised they were in the middle of the maze. Celestia strode forwards, her long legs making short work of the distance, and Gosling had to walk double time to keep up with her. All that time spent marching was paying off. When Celestia sat down upon the grass, Gosling joined her. Overhead, the stars twinkled. He felt himself pulled closer by an unseen force and he found himself pressed up against her. She was warm, downy soft, and smelled of dessert—ice cream, bananas, and rum, set ablaze and allowed to glaze. Looking up, he made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Her eyes were rose coloured, like the dawn rising up over the horizon. She was looking down at him and her snoot was a scant inch away from his own. He felt his breath get caught in his throat. As well behaved as he was, he was still a raging ball of hormones, a colt on the verge of adulthood. Parts of him reacted. He squirmed, squeezing his hind legs together, trying to keep himself contained. He could feel her breathing on him. He watched her blink, she was beautiful, but she was also arousing—sexy. She was a mare and the look she was giving him set fire to his brain and dulled his senses. His brain betrayed him and started thinking of a lot more than just a chaste kiss. Every steamy image in his spank bank began flooding into his brain. He was burning with desire and shivering with need. Gosling had never been more turned on in his whole life. His guts ached as he tried to hold himself back. He had trouble breathing. He caught a whiff of something that wasn’t dessert, it wasn’t ice cream, bananas, and rum—it was musky, made him light headed, and set his ears on fire. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. Then be bold... the words echoed between his ears. Extending his neck, he made a clumsy push upwards and his snoot smacked into Celestia’s. Undeterred, undaunted, he kept going, and he smashed his mouth into hers, then began kneading his lips against hers, the sloppy, inexperienced snogging of a secondary schooler. He felt a foreleg wrap around him, pulling him closer, almost crushing, and he felt her take over. Powerful suction was applied and for a moment, he thought his guts would be sucked up his throat and out his mouth. His fevered brain went into a lustful frenzy as he followed her lead. She was showing him what to do and he mimicked her movements. The kiss had a searing intensity. A week of buildup had taken place. A week was almost forever to somepony Gosling’s age. And then, he felt it. The dull ache in his guts. The pounding of his heart. Something was happening. Squeezing his hind legs together to try and contain himself turned out to be a very bad idea. He felt his body shudder. This was the worst thing ever. He broke the kiss and tried to get away, but he couldn’t. He looked up at Celestia with wide, pleading eyes, and then his hips bucked, betraying him. He felt things rubbing, rubbing in a way that made his whole body twitch and quiver. “Shh, it’s okay to get excited, just let it happen,” Celestia whispered into his ear as the first involuntary spasms started to take place. He felt his hind legs tense up, his leg muscles went rock hard, his hocks tightened, and he gasped. Celestia never let go of him, even as his eyes rolled back into his head. He closed his eyes, felt a tickle on his ear as Celestia whispered something, but he could not make out her words—he was deafened by the roaring in his ears. Everything in his body clenched, and then, it happened.