There Goes The Neighborhood

by Georg

Entertainment Expenses

Despite being the home to a myriad of gods and goddesses, there were still places on Olympus which had no more companionship than the green grass and the gentle breeze, which was just what Zeus wanted today. Still, he walked through the grass with somewhat more than his usual brisk stride, listening carefully for the slightest hint of lyre music drifting through the air and watching for a very particular shade of green. From this altitude, the little towns and villages below looked much as if they were inhabited by ants, and in his present mood, Zeus felt like stomping a few of them.

The main problem was his head was splitting, although fortunately only in a figurative sense because the last thing he wanted right now was another militant pony-loving son or daughter bursting through his skull. The second problem was that he had forgotten to drop by the house and pick up a bundle of thunderbolts to rain down on the mortals below. That is, if Hephaestus had remembered to restock his supply after his last dramatic thunderstorm.

A small but similarly frustrated voice intruded into Zeus’ musing as he strode along the edge of the mountain, and he moderated his brisk tread to a more stealthy approach until he spotted the source of the annoyance, which, of course, was another un-blasted mortal pony.

Maybe I can squeeze some thunderbolts out of a nearby cloud…

The little blue pegasus was hopping up and down on a small cloud, giving off a constant stream of what could be considered curse words in the same fashion that bunny rabbits could be considered fierce monsters. He would bounce up and down, cursing and complaining as his tiny hooves dug little divots in the fluffy cloudstuff and tiny pops of lightning crackled inside, but his bounces slowed to a stop and eventually the little pegasus flung himself over the edge of the cloud and just sprawled out with his legs hanging down and his wings drooping. It took a moment for Zeus to recognize the little winged horse as a young little winged horse, who seemed to be missing the rump-stamp the rest of his somewhat larger brethren sported.

Picking up his pace to a brisk stride, Zeus had nearly reached the little pony when it looked up at him and underwent the most amazing transformation. His eyes lit up, his ears stood straight, and with the biggest grin Zeus had ever seen, he loudly declared, “Zeus! It’s you! You’re here! You’re here! This is fantastically wonderfully terrific!”

The little Pegasus shot off the cloud faster than Zeus could see, and whirled around him while emitting a constant stream of adoration-fueled babble. It was a little like being inside a happy rainbow tornado as the colorful tail and mane of the little pony left streaks of color afterimages between every blink.

“Whoa, little one! Whoa!”

Screeching to a hovering stop in front of Zeus’ outstretched hand, the little pony gazed up at him with the most sincere case of hero-worship Zeus had ever seen, and managed to slow his frantic babble to something which could barely be understood.

“You’re the greatest of all of the great gods and my great, great, great, great grandfather Pegasus told us all about you and how he got to carry your thunderbolts and when I grow up I want to be just like him and carry your thunderbolts all over the world so everypony can know what a great god you are and how fantastic you are and—”

“Whoa!” Zeus found it quite difficult to keep his fierce scowl in the face of the enthusiastic little pony’s cheerful chatter. Instead, he reached out one hand to drag the tattered little cloud over in front of him and examined it with a practiced eye. “Now what was such a little tuft of feathers like you trying to do with this old cloud?”

“I was going to make a thunderbolt!” declared the little pegasus colt before the sparkle in his eyes dimmed and his ears drooped back down to the sides of his tiny head. “But I couldn’t even make it spark. How am I ever going to be a big pegasus and carry around your thunderbolts for you if I can’t even make one measly little spark?”

Blasted ponies. Why do they have eyes that big?

“You’re not going to make many thunderbolts with a worn-out cloud like this,” grumbled Zeus. He grasped the cloud at each end and twisted, releasing a small crackle of static and a weak stream of water that barely dampened the grass. “You need one of those bigger dark clouds, like that one way over there.”

“Yeah,” breathed the little pony. He fluttered a few cubits out into the open sky, paused, and fluttered back with greater speed to stand behind Zeus’ hairy legs. His tiny wings quivering, the little pegasus peeked out from behind his divine shield to look far, far down at the tiny little houses below the mountain. “They look so small,” he whispered. “How far up are we?”

“Far above the realms of mortals,” rumbled Zeus, feeling more like himself now. “Have courage, little one. If someday you wish to fly by my side and carry my thunderbolts, you must have wings of lightning.”

“Wings of lightning, wings of lightning,” whispered the little pegasus. He stepped out from behind Zeus and spread his little wings, keeping his eyes focused on the distant dark cloud while he stood immobile in the short grass at the edge of the mountain.

After several minutes, Zeus asked, “Well?”

The little pony’s wings drooped and his tail sagged. “I’m sorry, Great Zeus. I’m afraid. My father has always been with me whenever I fly more than a tail-length above the ground, but he’s guarding Princess Celestia’s temple today.”

“Oh.” Zeus looked down at the little dark cloud, all filled with divine wrath ready to be unleashed on the mortals below. Then he looked at the little winged pony. It had been so long since he had ruled the skies with Pegasus by his side, flinging thunderbolts into hordes of slavering ice-monsters or frost giants on his summer vacation from hot and humid Greece. He patted the little pony on a warm furry shoulder and began to manifest his power.

“Do not fear, mortal. I shall be at your side.”

In a less-traveled portion of Olympus, next to the edge where the farms and towns of mortals could be seen far below, there was a somewhat unusual sight. A dark cloud was parked just barely above the dark green grass of the mountain, with a tiny little pegasus colt bouncing up and down on it like a trampoline and being encouraged by a hefty pegasus stallion to his side.

“Put your back into it,” shouted Zeus with his broad wings extended for emphasis. “Keep your wings open for balance like this, point your toes and land as hard as you can. It’s almost ready to release a thunderbolt this time. And… now!”

The cloud gave out a weak crackle and a thunderbolt shot out, only to be caught by Zeus in clumsy hooves. He extended his wings wider as the bolt dragged him close to the edge of the mountain, fighting and flapping until he skidded to a stop with the smoldering bolt of lightning being tossed from hoof to hoof while he blew on it to cool it down. “Whew! That’s a lively one, even if it is a little small.”

With a little more manifestation of his power, Zeus returned to his human form, holding the glowing thunderbolt in the palm of his hand. It seemed like such a small thing, and would not make nearly the crash and boom he wanted if he were to throw it at the mortals below, so he closed his fist around it and manifested more of his power.

“Child, let it be known that Great Zeus approves of your efforts this day. Step forward and receive this token of our respect, which you may keep until you reach your majority and claim your place at my side.” A thin coating of bronze now covered the crackling thunderbolt, which he presented to the little awe-struck colt as if it were made of gold.

“Awesome!” The little colt shuffled forward and reached one hesitant hoof out to pick up his prize, but stopped before touching it and looked at his flank. “I got my cutie mark! I got my cutie mark!” He danced in a circle as if he were trying to get a good look at his own multicolored tail, which now was bordered by a colorful thunderbolt on both sides of his rump. “Igottagoshowmydadbye!”

In a streak of rainbow light, the little pegasus streaked into the distance, leaving the small bronzed thunderbolt still sitting in Zeus’ hands. He had just started on the beginnings of a little divine fury when the little colt streaked back just as fast as he had left, grabbed Zeus in a crushing hug around one shin, and vanished off into the distance again, carrying his bronze prize this time and babbling happily about his experience.

Zeus took a deep breath now that his thunderbolting range was clear of annoying little ponies. He stepped to the edge of the mountain and looked down upon the mortals far below, seeing them scurry about in their little lives for a while before turning and striding for home.

It really was not worth the effort anymore. Besides, he needed to drop by Hephaestus’ forge and pick up some fresh thunderbolts anyway, and as long as he was going that far out of his way, he might as well put them to good use.

"Hera!" bellowed Zeus in a voice that shook the mansion windows in their frames. "Where's my eyepatch?"

"In the top drawer where you left it last!" she bellowed back from the kitchen. "Are you headed off north again?"

"I just need to let off a little steam!" he bellowed back. "There's nothing around here worthwhile to smite, so I packed some thunderbolts and I'm going to go hammer the mountain trolls for a few hours. I'll be back late."

"Well, grab something to eat before you go!" she bellowed back. "Stew's almost done."

"Can't it wait? I've got to go harness up the goats to the chariot now or I won't be back before dark." Zeus poked his head into the kitchen where Hera was stirring a huge stewpot. "Oh, no."

"You didn't say you needed them today, and I wanted to surprise you with a home-cooked meal," said Hera, dipping her spoon into the pot and pulling out a bone which the goat meat had not been cooked off yet. "Besides, Tanngnjóstr has always had a limp ever since that you let that mortal cook him. You'd probably get stranded half-way to Hyperborea and have to walk back. Can't you just put the old things out to pasture and use some of Celestia's guards to pull the chariot?"

"No!" bellowed Zeus. "Absolutely not! Never!"

"It's so nice to see you again, Great Zeus," said Celestia as she lifted a teacup in her magic and reclined on a thick cushion in the unfinished tea room of her growing temple. There were still a few holes in what would someday be walls and a noticeable amount of fresh paint, but the solar goddess seemed perfectly at home despite the sounds of construction still echoing through the corridors of her temple. "Is there something that we can do for you?"

"I need to borrow two of your guards for a trip to the northlands," growled Zeus.

“Very well,” said Celestia. “You shall have two of my finest and strongest pegasi. See to it, Proper Place.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The prim and proper unicorn by Celestia’s side bowed and slipped away while Zeus scowled at his departing tail.

“Another banker?” he growled. “The one which you foisted upon me hath driven my relatives into a fury. All day long, they whine about their funding being cut off. You would think something else had been trimmed from them while they slept.”

“Proper Place is my financial liaison with my banking associates.” Celestia produced a sheaf of papers and sat them to one side of her tea table with a quiet thud. “He keeps my finances under control during this transition to correcting your fiscal difficulties and has been a great asset in other matters. The sun had been running a little late recently, and one of the architects from Minos had designed the east wing of the temple without an exit.” She paused with the teacup nearly up to her lips. “If you wish, Great Zeus, I would be willing to see if any of his fellow unicorns would be willing to take up employment with your household.”

Zeus paused with his mouth open to express his opinion on the matter to the fullest volume he was able, then settled back down in his chair and pushed the empty teacup over to Celestia with a brief grumble instead. “Wouldst he be able to quell my fractious relatives and give me a moment of peace?”

“I’m certain he or she will be fully competent as an aide to your house.” Celestia filled his teacup and drifted it back over to his seat, along with a few dry biscuits. “I really must thank you, Great Zeus, for your acceptance of my little ponies in your home here on the mountain. I was speaking with little Greased Lightning today after his father told me you helped him get his cutie mark. In all of my years, I have never seen a little pegasus so proud. He said he’s going to change his name to Keravnos⁽*⁾ in honor of you.”
(*) The name Zeus gave his armor. After all, as Great Zeus he could name whatever he wanted.

“Well…” Zeus waved a half-eaten biscuit for emphasis until he managed to swallow. “He was so intent on getting a thunderbolt out of that cloud.”

“And you bronzed it too.” Celestia took a sip of tea with her sparkling eyes seeming to have a hint of a smile to them as she drank. “I have found my little ponies are quite appealing. I too was reluctant when they first offered my sister and myself the crowns, but after a few centuries of their presence, I’ve grown quite accustomed to them.”

“Never!” snorted Zeus as he slammed back the rest of the tea and stood up to leave for his trip into the frozen north.

The sun was just touching the horizon when the cart pulled by two ‘goats’ gently touched down in Zeus’ garden. The thunderbolt bag was empty except for a few crackling motes of static and a few frosty remnants of blasted ice trolls still dripped from his beard, but there was an unstoppable smile on the Allfather’s face.

“By my name, that was wonderful.” Zeus stomped his feet and unmanifested the thick furry coat and boots in exchange for his traditional tunic and sandals. “Did you boys have fun too?”

“Yes, Great Zeus,” the two pegasi chorused as the illusion which had disguised them as goats faded away. One of the two pegasi seemed to hesitate and quickly blurted out an additional, “I can’t thank you enough for today, Great Zeus.”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “Think nothing of it. If you don’t thin down the ice trolls every few decades, they get aggressive and hold onto all of the cold, making it uncomfortably warm all over the world.”

“Not for that, sir. For my son.” There was a distinct similarity between the lines of the stallion’s muscular shoulders and the thin but distinct muscles of the little colt who had such problems getting a thunderbolt out of the cloud, as well as the distinguished set of their solid jaws. Zeus fought down an urge to peek inside the stallion’s mouth to check his teeth as he nodded and flung himself down onto the garden’s broad and comfortable bench.

“He’s a good colt. I’m looking forward to seeing him carry my thunderbolts in a few years.”

“Thank you, sir!” The pegasi struck a rigid salute before flying away at his dismissive hand gesture, leaving Zeus to relax on the bench with his large hairy feet in the slightly-damp grass. It was a beautiful sunset, with the distant trumpet fanfare of the salpinx making a delightful counterpart to the slow change of golden sunlight to the cool silver of night. It only irked him a little to see the silhouettes of the archons having both wings and tails, but he had to admit the tones of their chorus was more harmonious than anything the air sprites had been able to do on the rare occasions they were sober. It was such a pleasurable time that it took a few minutes for the quiet plunking of a mournful harp to penetrate his consciousness. In the bright light of the risen moon, Zeus slowly looked off to one side and locked eyes with the green unicorn musician.

“Good evening, Great Zeus,” she said. “Did you enjoy your trip?”

“Until now,” he said.