//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 // Story: The Perilous Romance of Swans // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Gosling was unable to bring himself to look as the others began sorting through the pile of newspapers. He heard wickers, he heard whinnies, sniffles, and snorts of indignation. He felt his stomach clenching and leaned back in his chair. His ears fidgeted and twitched with every sound. The only other pony not sorting through the papers was Luna, and she was still waging a bitter, brutal war with her state of consciousness. Blueblood and Raven had joined in, the both of them scanning headlines with wary, practiced eyes. Nightlight held several papers aloft, checking both the front page scrawls and the inside scoops. Shining Armor was busy with the lesser publications, the fringe papers that reported things most decidedly not news. “Tell me again, why do we have a free press?” Blueblood asked in acerbic tones. “Nephew!” Celestia scolded Blueblood with a harsh glare and shook her head in disapproval. “A free, unrestricted press is the cornerstone of a progressive society.” Eyes narrowing, Blueblood shook his head in disagreement. “Malarky! This isn’t journalism! This isn’t the press! I would gladly defend an actual journalist, even one who wrote something awful about me, but this isn’t news! This is speculation, this borderlines upon slander! This is pure dreck!” Blueblood tossed a newspaper at his aunt and his brows knitted into deep furrows, a fertile field planted with the seeds of rage. “Out of touch princess finds new toy for her bath while country continues to be torn apart by dissidents seeking equality!” “Oh my,” Celestia said as she held aloft the paper that Blueblood had chucked at her. She read the article, her eyes narrowing, her lips moving, and an expression of disbelief was visible upon her face. “Oh dear, we may have a crisis of image to deal with.” “The rubber ducky is not a reassuring symbol of rule,” Raven muttered as she folded up one paper and unfolded another. “We need to get him into school as soon as possible and provide the public with the image that he is being prepared for his future.” “So far, nothing positive,” Night Light said as he shook his head. “Not one kind word to say. This is going to be brutal. I wonder if it will be as bad as—” “The press finding out that Flurry was born an alicorn and the accusations that we’re plotting to expand the oppression of the alicorns upon the free tribes?” Cadance looked over at her father in law, then at her aunt, and then over at Gosling, who appeared to be stunned by what he was hearing. Cadance paused and the room was filled with the rustle of newspapers. “We are a family besieged. We can’t do anything without vile backlash, accusations, or criticism. Our every action is second guessed. My aunt finds love and the press calls it a national crisis of the worst stripe.” “It’s pretty bad,” Night Light agreed. “Surely something can be done to calm the public ire.” Cadance levitated a paper over to her father in law. “This one demands that Princess Celestia step down because of her egregious offense against the ponies of Equestria.” Flinching, Night Light took the paper, but he sat it down upon the table without reading it. He looked at his daughter in law, then at his son, and after sitting there, silent, looking out of sorts, he looked over at Celestia. Cadance’s jaw clenched and she ground her teeth for a moment. Her eyes glittered with rage. “The claim has been made that Princess Celestia owes Equestria her undivided attention… that she is a public asset… that she… she…” Cadance began to sputter and spit. The corner of her eye began twitching and her ability for cognisant speech departed from her. She sucked in a deep breath, her barrel expanding, threw back her head, and let out a bellowing whinny of bellicose fury that made everything on the table rattle. “It appears as though it will be the morning edition that will have the scoop of the century,” Raven said as she glanced at Gosling. “This is good, this gives us more time for damage control.” Raven adjusted her glasses. “Cadance, darling, deep calming breaths.” “This one says that Celestia’s choice was insulting to the extreme,” Blueblood said in a low voice as he tossed his paper down. “The writer offered up his opinion that any sort of royal marriage should be done with high ranking military officials, as a form of reward for their many years of devotion and service, as they have earned the right to be the royal consort. Passing them over is just another insult to the public, one of many, and the writer suggests that Princess Celestia be held accountable so that she might answer for her indifference against those who sacrifice all they have to serve her.” Blueblood tapped the paper with his hoof. “We may have a problem here if this is used to stir up dissent among the guards. If this becomes a rallying cry, we’re going to have some very real trouble.” “So after a lifetime of service, the reward offered is to bang my aunt?” Cadance’s eyes narrowed and she went silent for a time. She sat in her chair, her sides heaving, eyes blinking, staring down at the papers now scattered upon the table. “I think I need some fresh air… please, excuse me.” “I think I’ll join you,” Night Light said to Cadance. “Come on, Cadance. Let us both go for a nice walk around the battlements.” Looking unsettled, Celestia tossed her head back and looked over at Gosling. “I think I need some air as well. Private Gosling, would you please accompany me?” Gosling’s sullen expression vanished and his eyes brightened. “Of course.” His head bobbed and he spilled out of his chair so that he could go with Celestia. In his nervousness, he stumbled over his own hooves, but recovered while letting out a self conscious chuckle. He glanced over at Cadance, who was now departing with Night Light, then back at Celestia, who rose from her chair with majestic grace. Shaking her head, Luna smacked her lips and let out a sleepy snort. “Since when did we give free reign to rabble rousers, knaves, and miscreants? We used to have ways and means of dealing with such troublemakers that plagued us. Now we protect them and call it civic duty. I do not not understand this era, not at all.” Every time he looked up at Celestia, Gosling felt his heart swell. The mask was gone and she looked troubled. She was doing nothing to hide her emotions. With each step she took, her wings fidgeted against her sides. He could see muscles jerking beneath her velvety, taut pelt. His ears twitched with every ragged sounding breath that traveled through her long throat. She steamed in the cool night air. Earlier, as they had walked together, Gosling had something of an epiphany—Canterlot was the seat of power because of the availability of cooler air. Celestia, with her oversized wings, was prone to overheating, even more so during times of stress. Canterlot’s high altitude offered Celestia some relief. “I feel very guilty right now…” Gosling didn’t like Celestia’s tone. It worried him. He glanced up, his ears perking, and worried about the mare beside him. “Why is that?” “Because I have destroyed any chance you had of ever having a normal life,” Celestia replied as she walked, her hooves heavy and scraping over the stone with each step. “If we were to part ways right now, any semblance of a normal life for you would remain elusive. No matter what you do, no matter which decision you make, your life from this point forward has been forever altered.” “But we are not parting ways.” Gosling lifted his head a little higher and his eyes narrowed. His ears picked up the faint sounds of somepony sobbing some distance away. He knew who was sobbing, and he knew why. Somehow, it felt wrong to listen, as though he was intruding upon something personal, painful, and private. He hoped that Night Light could make things better somehow, but Gosling had no idea how to fix something like this. “So that’s it then?” Celestia asked in a low voice that did nothing to hide her bitterness. “You’re going to be the good, loyal soldier that blindly follows your princess, no matter the consequences?” Celestia’s bitterness, her anger, and her frustration stung his ears and made his heart ache. Gosling nodded his head and his hooves felt heavy as he kept pace beside the troubled mare that he was coming to love. “You said it… I can’t go back to how things were. I could never go back to a normal life at this point. I see no other good option but to continue forwards. I shall remain with you, come what may.” “You face a life of endless criticism and scorn… a life of accusations… a life of others never believing that you are good enough for the mare you have chosen to love.” Celestia shook her head as she walked and her worried eyes glanced down at Gosling. “Maybe so…” Gosling shrugged, his wings ruffling at his sides. “It’ll be worth it.” His stride transitioned into a youthful swagger and he strutted as he moved along beside Celestia. “And, pray tell, what makes you so confident that it will be worth it, my prancy little pegasus?” Celestia asked, her voice both strained and hopeful. “The way I see it,” Gosling replied, “is that at the end of the day, when the sun has set and your duties are over, I’ll have you all to myself.” Gosling made a dramatic pause, waiting, allowing the tension to build, and he gave Celestia a sidelong glance. “And when I have you to myself, I’m going to have my head between your thighs and you’re going to be screaming my name loud enough for all of Canterlot to hear. Let the papers spin that.” Gosling’s voice boomed through the battlements and his youthful cockiness was impossible to ignore. Celestia froze in place, almost stumbling from her abrupt stop. The white alicorn had a full body blush that made her turn a lurid shade of pink in the silvery moonlight. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, and her full body blush intensified. There was a ‘pomf!’ sound followed by a supersonic crack as Celestia’s wings shot out from her sides. Gosling ducked, hitting the deck and avoiding a potential fatality, evading an embarrassing death caused by an aroused alicorn’s ballistic wingboner. Celestia’s wings were so rigid that she was unable to even fan herself so that she might cool off. She stood there, making little muffled whimpering sounds while Gosling picked himself up from the stone walkway and began to dust himself off. From elsewhere on the stone battlements, giggling could be heard, along with snotty sounding sniffle-snorts. The sounds of sobbing had vanished, replaced by an almost fillyish giggling, which was joined by rough, masculine laughter. Gosling smiled, feeling better about himself, and Cadance’s voice could be heard echoing through the courtyard, “Private Gosling, you had better be a pony of your word!” Feeling hot and flustered, Celestia watched as Gosling pranced away from her, his hooves clattering upon the stone of the central courtyard. He moved in ways that made her body react, his youthful vigour evident in every step. She glanced over at Cadance, who looked puffy eyed and troubled, but she was smiling. Gosling was a shameless, terrible flirt, and for this, Celestia was thankful. Cadance, the embodiment of love, could be hurt because of her love, but also mended by it. The papers had wounded her, but Gosling had soothed her ruffled feathers. Night Light stood near, the suggestion of a smile still upon his muzzle. As Celestia stood watching, Gosling lept over the edge of the fountain and landed in the water with a splash. With total disregard for the rules, the pegasus colt began to cavort in the fountain, stomping in the water, soaking himself, and very much behaving like a bird in a birdbath. Celestia took a step forwards, uncertain of what to do next. There were rules… precious rules. One of those rules was that one did not play in the fountain. Many a student had received a demerit for splashing in the courtyard fountain. “Gosling, come out of that fountain at once,” Celestia said, almost choking as she swallowed her laughter so she could maintain her serious mien. She battled against her own quivering lips, hoping that they would not betray her. “Private Gosling, to my side at once!” Much to Celestia’s consternation, Gosling let out a warbling whistle as he continued to bathe in the fountain, and he gave her a bold, defiant look. She stomped her hoof to let Gosling know she was serious, then said again. “Gosling, come out of that fountain!” She took several steps forwards, now biting on her lip to contain her laughter, watching as Gosling made a bold, risque display of wingspan, showing off his wet wings, the water droplets glittering like tiny diamonds in the moonlight. Celestia almost lost it altogether when she heard Cadance let go with an appreciative wolf whistle. She resolved to pull Cadance aside and have a word with her later. As she approached, Gosling’s head dipped down and he lowered his muzzle into the water. When he raised his head once more, his cheeks bulged and water trickled down his fuzzy, wet chin. Celestia’s heart lept up into her throat. “Private Gosling, you wouldn’t dare…” Gosling blinked and nodded his head. Water could be heard sloshing in his mouth as he looked up at Celestia, who towered over him. He flicked his tail and stood in stiff legged, cocky defiance, with one drenched ear drooping. Celestia could hear snickering behind her. “Private Gosling, as adorable as you might be, do not make me destroy you—” Celestia’s words died when the jet of water hit her in the face, the cold shocking her into silence. She stared down at the cheeky little colt and watched as the water in his mouth streamed out from his pursed, puckered lips. At least the water was cool and refreshing. Saying nothing else, Celestia lurched forwards, lept over the edge of the fountain, and landed inside with a splash, intent to make an example out of Private Gosling.