There Goes The Neighborhood

by Georg

Ground Game

“Good morning, Great Zeus. Great Hera.” The young unicorn mare trotted calmly into the godly bedchambers and used her magic to spread the curtains and swing the windows wide open. “We have a busy day ahead of us. I tried to put together a breakfast for you two this morning, but I’m afraid the eggs got ahead of me and I’m not quite sure what happened with the porridge but I have it locked in the pantry and the cabinet pushed up against the door.”

There was a faint tremor in the foundations of the heavenly mansion and the crystals in the chandelier tinkled quietly against themselves while the bellows of a frustrated porridge echoed up the stairs.

“I’ve got it,” mumbled Hera as she rolled out of bed and stuck her feet into a set of worn slippers. She picked up a broom and shuffled downstairs, followed by the hesitant unicorn, who stopped in the doorway to give Zeus a rather forlorn look.

“I’m sorry, Great Zeus. I’m really good with numbers, schedules and cross-dependency diagrams, but all I can cook is raw vegetables and make a fairly good alfalfa smoothie.”

“That’s as much as I really expect.” Zeus yawned and considered the nearly snow-white unicorn and the dark brown mane done up in a bun and tied off with red ribbons. It would only take a moment to sweep her off her feet… Hooves, that is, and into bed, but Hera would not be long with a simple rogue porridge, and he felt vaguely guilty about taking advantage of a symbol of innocent virginity. Particularly one who was helping with the complicated task of keeping track of his vastly complicated financial recovery in addition to fending off his lazy relatives who kept dropping by his mansion to see if a few drachma had fallen into the couch covers.

“I have a cousin who is a marvel in the kitchen, sir,” volunteered the servant in a rush, wincing as the sound of goddess-porridge conflict drifted up the stairs. “She can bake the most amazing cherry tarts, but she’s an earth pony, and Princess Celestia said not to bring up anything about any more ponies around you because—”

There was a blood-curdling death cry from downstairs as the porridge met its match, making Zeus manifest a clean toga while getting out of bed. “No more ponies,” he growled. “No matter what. I’m drawing the line here.”

“The porridge is ruined,” called up Hera in a voice that rattled the windows. “Don’t worry. I’ll boil something up for breakfast.”

“No more ponies,” muttered Zeus through gritted teeth.

The towering tree threw a comforting shade over Zeus as he walked around the slumbering hundred-headed dragon, who was supposed to be fiercely guarding the two or three golden apples still remaining on the branches above. The day and night shift pegasi following him — two with feathered wings and golden armor and two with leathery wings and violet armor — kept a wary eye on the snoozing reptile, but Zeus gave out a snort of disgust and kicked the old beast several times in the ribs with little more reaction than a vague rumbling as it shifted positions slightly.

“If the blasted thing would keep any of its heads awake, I wouldn’t have asked Celestia for your help,” he grumbled. “Ever since the centaurs ran off with the nymphs, it has almost been picked clean. All I need you to do is to patrol around it and stop any heroic types or my blasted thieving relatives from pulling any more apples off the tree. Do you think you can take care of that simple task, or do I need to go find a dragon who won’t sleep all day?”

The pegasi drew up into rigid salutes. “Yes, Great Zeus,” they chorused.

“Good,” grumbled Zeus. He reached up into his precious tree and removed one of the last golden apples for closer inspection. “The tree holds my most precious possessions, but they’re bloody bad luck, with all the goddesses and vain mortals fighting over ‘em to prove who is the most beautiful. They’ve started enough wars to drench the whole mountain with blood, and they don’t even taste that good.” With a mighty twist of his wrist, Zeus split the apple into pieces and shared it with the four guards, who ate their sections seeds and all.

“It’s pretty good,” admitted one of the guards. “Have you considered crossing it with some other variety, or grafting some of the branches onto different rootstock? You could probably make a whole orchard out of this one tree, and have enough apples for anypony who wanted to buy a few dozen.”

After licking away a loose drip of apple juice, Zeus bounced the leftover seeds in the palm of his hand. “I don’t suppose any of the pegasi or unicorns could do what you said?”

“No, sir.” The golden-armored pegasus glanced back at the tree with a nervous twitch. “That’s earth pony magic.”

Behind them, a golden apple lost its grip on a branch and plunged out of the tree to thud into the ground and be regarded by the five beings who were awake to observe its fall. Then all of them looked back up into the tree and the single apple remaining.

“Should I go get my cousin?” asked one of the guards.

“Ah can’t believe you let this poor thing get so sick,” said the slouch-hat wearing earth pony who scurried around the bottom of the apple tree, touching it here and there along the trunk. “Ah’m sorry, Great Zeus, but this here tree’s gonna take a lot of loving and care to bring her back up to full producin’ and health. Thankfully, you got one of these.” She patted one of the heads of the drowsing dragon on the cheek and fed him an emerald when he opened his massive jaws fractionally in response.

“The dragon didn’t seem to help the tree out before,” grumbled Zeus.

“That’s a’cause he was sleepin’ here and doin’ his business over there.” The earth pony pointed a short distance away to a section of grass which was lush and green almost beyond description. “Everypony knows dragon poo is amazin’ fertilizer, but they don’t sleep where they poop.”

“I knew that,” admitted Zeus, even though he had not.

“All we need to do is get Ol’ Hundred here a nice cave to sleep in an’ collect the droppings, compost ‘em, an’ distribute ‘em out in the new orchard. Ah figgure about fifty or so rootstock plantings to graft branches onto for starters, a little earth pony care and attention, and you’ll be swimmin’ in golden apples by fall. Big un’s too, if’n we can use dragon poo.”

“Right.” Zeus regarded the open section of thick green grass around the tree and tried to imagine it filled with ripe apple trees, bursting with fruit to get all of those jealous goddesses off his case. “How much will it cost me?”

Other than my pride.

“Cost?” The stocky mare pushed back her floppy hat and looked up at him with her green eyes sparkling in the sunshine. “I figgure if’n we can take a few cuttings of the tree for our own use, say about ten percent of ‘em and a little of the dragon poo, we can get your orchard up and runnin’ for free.”

“Ten percent is fairly high,” said the unicorn standing beside Zeus. It almost made him jump when she spoke, because he had almost forgotten she was around. Abacus beads rattled as she made a few quick calculations and added, “Twenty-five drachmas per cutting in your possession, a full setup of fifty grafted seedlings established and fruiting before you remove your cuttings from the mountain, and twenty percent of the harvest off the resulting trees in your orchard for the next twenty years. And all of the dragon dung stays in Olympus.”

“Whoa there, sugarcube.” The earth pony shifted her floppy hat forward and glared. “Twenty drachmas per cutting, one hundred grafted seedlings established, half fruiting before we claim our cuttings, and ten percent of the harvest off the resulting trees in our orchards for twenty years. And an amount of dragon dung equal to twice the weight of gems we bring up to feed him.”

“A quarter of the weight of gems you bring to feed the dragon. Otherwise you can get your own dragon.” The unicorn thought for a moment. “The rest of the deal is fine, but full-gold drachmas, and fifteen percent of the gross harvest from your orchards.”

“Buck yes, full gold drachmas. Fifteen percent of the harvest is a mite high, though.”

“Better than you getting zero.” The unicorn beside Zeus kept her unblinking gaze focused on the farm pony until she gave out a sigh.

“Deal.” The earth pony spat into her hoof and held it out for Zeus, who looked at it for a moment while his brain tried to figure out how many drachmas and apples he had just made a deal for other than ‘lots.’ He carefully spat into his own hand and shook the earth pony’s outstretched hoof.

The afternoon sunlight glinted painfully off the gurgling stream in Zeus’ garden as he trudged along the pebbled path in his bare feet with the unicorn banker at his side. It was either this or have to listen to an endless dirge of harp music for as long as the unicorn was able to fill the garden with her songs, which seemed as if it was going to be for many years to come. Besides, with the way the previous negotiations had succeeded, there had to be a way to turn this situation to his advantage.

The green harpist jumped to her hooves as Zeus and his financial advisor strolled up, dropping almost immediately to her knees and proclaiming, “Greetings, Great Zeus. How might I serve you.”

It was tempting, except for the watchful eyes of Hera he could see peeking out of a window in their mansion and the dull ploinking of notes which had not stopped from the lyre hovering at her side.

“Why should I permit your lover… I mean your good friend upon my mountain?” said Zeus in a voice like thunder. “Specifically, what’s in it for me?”

It must have made an impact on the musician, because the dejected string of notes dripping out of her golden lyre stopped cold. Those golden eyes sparkled with hope, in a way that made him uncomfortably aware of the last sprite to escape from that cursed jar he had given Pandora to hold.

“Anything,” she breathed.

“Anything except that,” specified the unicorn servant who had maintained her position at Zeus’ side. “Great Zeus will require a substantial physical boon or service which will not be viewed negatively by Great Hera.”

“Oh.” The musician smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Much later, Zeus stood in his garden looking at the two ponies occupying the low bench in the middle of the grass and flowers. The mood of the whole area had risen several notches, making it much less like his brother’s dismal Underworld and more like what his mountain was supposed to be. The new pony was a mare with the most distinctive swept-back mane that bounced up into a curl which seemed to defy gravity, and blue eyes that sparkled just as much as her lover’s… friend’s golden eyes. They had curled up together on the bench in a motion that seemed so perfectly ordinary, one reclining and one upright, and fairly glowed with mutual happiness as they presented Zeus and Hera with a small plate, upon which sat… things.

They were brown and looked entirely too much like poop for Zeus’ stomach, despite the earth pony’s continuous declaration about their taste and the amount of work that went into their creation. “Xocoatl?” he asked, nudging one with a fingertip. “Isn’t that the vile substance from the barbarians who worship the strange feathered snake god?”

“We call it chocolate now,” said the pony. “Food of the gods. And goddesses.”

At first, Zeus hesitated. Hera was standing just behind one shoulder and awaiting her turn at the dull brown things with great patience, as well as a certain attitude which indicated all of the times he had claimed “Gods first” was going to be bounced right back at him if he offered her the plate without sampling at least one of the offerings. Then he perked up. Over the years, he had eaten several things far more disgusting than this, some of which Hera had cooked for him. One taste and he could blast those two annoying ponies right off the mountain.

He popped a random brown lump into his mouth and bit down.

It was certainly not poop.

A burst of this ‘chocolate’ flavor swept across his tongue, carrying with it a mixed collection of nuts and seeds that only emphasised the flavor as he chewed. If he did not love Hera so much and knew just how she would express her ire if he withheld any of the little tasty items, he might have finished the entire platter himself. As he was Great Zeus and far wiser, the impulse only lasted a moment before he allowed his wife to also sample one of the delicious concoctions. Anything they had to say needed to wait until all of the chocolates were gone and Hera was quietly licking the plate.

“Acceptable,” said Zeus.

“Memblefmf,” said Hera as she finished licking the plate clean and eyed a tiny fragment still stuck to Zeus’ beard. “More?”

“That’s all I could bring up to the mountain at once,” said the pony. “It’s a long, long trip up the road. I can go back and bring some more up next week.”

“Next week?” Hera passed the empty plate back to Zeus. “Let me talk to my husband privately.”

“I don’t know what you’re going to say to me but I know it won’t work,” grumbled Zeus. “Olympus is far above the mortal world for good reason. It would take a miracle to bring the mortal world any closer.”

“Miraculous, isn’t it, Great Zeus?” The ‘engineer’ pony stood with Zeus on the edge of the mountain, looking down at the thin trail of steel and wood winding its way up the side of Olympus through tunnels and across wide gorges. At this distance, the ponies working on the construction seemed as small as ants and just as relentless. Day by day, the construction crawled up the majestic sides of the mountain, bringing with it steel rails and a chuffing ‘locomotive’ to fuel the growth. Apollo himself could not have given Hephaestus the plans nor the organization to build this ‘railroad’ into Olympus, and yet mere mortal ponies were progressing up the mountain just as easily as if they were building a stairway into the heavens.

Still… chocolate.

“Yes, it is indeed a marvelous device,” said Zeus, looking down upon it with only a small portion of his mind thinking about the size of the thunderbolt it would take to destroy this ‘railroad’ and how little time it would take the ponies to rebuild it.

Instead of doing something rash that he probably would wind up paying for anyway, he made his excuses and strode back through Olympus in the direction of what his wife had called a ‘spa’ of some sorts, which sounded like another barbarian intrusion into the mountain. It was much like the spiderweb of steel crawling up the side of the mountain, soon to be as annoying as one of Arachne's little webs she liked to leave in unexpected areas of his house. It would have assuaged his soul far more to stop in at Nethapletis’ former bar and drink ambrosia until it came out of his hairy ears, but the building was under construction with a ‘Trot-Thru’ open with only a limited menu of pastries and coffees available. The Nubian mortal had retired, but his pony replacement was expanding his ‘franchise’ across the mortal world below until Zeus expected every street corner and city square would have one of his Starbucks stores in it.

It took little effort to manifest his pony form as Zeus walked up to the window and picked up a quad venti half caf breve with one of the delicious crullers, and kept the form while trotting down the street afterwards. It just seemed easier, and steel-shod hooves rang off the paving stones more comfortably than sandals anyway. They had been a present from Hephaestus, who had decided that a stocky pony form was a great advantage in his line of work and had produced a masterful set of shoes for his father as an example of his craft. It only annoyed Zeus a little that the first two sets of gold and silver shoes had gone to Celestia and Luna. He preferred to think of them as prototypes, while the silvery steel on Great Zeus’ hooves was the culmination of his craft. They certainly went well with his handsome pony form, turning heads all over Olympus as he strode down the clean streets among the pony populace, enjoying the brisk morning on his way to his scheduled visit to the broad doorway of Thermae Alvei, the spa where Hera had told him to meet her.

Blocks of creamy pink quartz and pale blue slate made up the facing of the new building, and several streams of fragrant water vapor drifted into the air above it. He could not help but notice one of Celestia’s pegasi with the clipboard hovering above the building, checking the pollution levels of the rising steam. It was a reminder of how much of the running of Olympus he had delegated to the pony princess, but also a reminder of how much more free time he had now to engage in the pleasures of his position.

“Good morning, Great Zeus. We’re all ready for your appointment.” The bright-eyed and pink-cheeked earth pony at the entrance gestured him back through the waiting (and all pony) customers to a large room filled with pony servants and an astonishing array of soaping products as opposed to the olive oils which he was used to. Still in pony form, he found the soaping and scrubbing process to be far better than the bathhouse which had been here before, despite the nymph staff and their tendency to forget all about bathing when all the oiling started. Ponies were much more serious with the scrub brushes and scented soaps, giving Zeus a warm sparkling sensation as he was sluiced off with warm water before being escorted through a warm corridor to the steamy caldarium.

“By the way, Great Zeus, I must thank you again for allowing our baths to be serviced by your dragon,” said the young pink earth pony who walked alongside him through the warming corridor. “He is providing an environmentally-stable form of heating for the caldarium and added security in the event we have any disruptive visitors.”

“I had to put him somewhere,” grumbled Zeus even as the faint smell of brimstone and a rumbling from under his hooves made his nostrils tingle. It was a pleasant odor instead of the stale reek of olive oil, vaguely hinting at peppermint and bringing the entire chamber up to a blissfully steamy fog that he strode through in the direction of the splashes he could hear coming from the massive tub.

“Oh, and you have some guests in the soaking caldarium this morning, Great Zeus.” The pony winked at him. “I think you’ll appreciate your feminine company.”

“Really?” Zeus gingerly extended a hoof into the water, moving slowly, bit by bit as his hide became accustomed to the heat. There was not only the sound of giggling, but two different female giggles coming from the steamy fog on the other side of the tub, along with the deep bass profundo of his less-than-welcome brother, Poseidon.

“Zeus!” he bellowed. “How long has it been, brother?”

“Not long enough and far too long,” said Zeus as he gingerly got his footing on the bottom of the tub, allowing himself to float with just his head and mane above the steaming hot water. “I thought you were going to stay in your oceans and leave the mountains to me, dear sibling.”

“I was! At least until this fine vision of beauty showed up one day.” The steam cleared, and to Zeus’ expectations, Poseidon also had taken a handsome aquatic pony form for his dip into the hot water, although with a wide fluked tail descending down into the water and a slender horn rising up from the waves of white mane which flowed off his head and down the back of his neck like frothing seafoam. He was wrapped up very closely around another familiar pony as Celestia seemed to be trying to find a comfortable way to entwine around his brother, with Hera floating calmly to one side and with an expression of bemusement, whether at his own startled expression or at Poseidon’s obvious enamorment of the Sun Goddess.

“Good morn, husband.” Hera splashed some water in his direction with her hoof as her smug amusement turned into a broad smile. “We shall have to remain here instead of proceeding to the frigidarium. It seems Luna and your other brother are entertaining in there.”

Caught between disappointment and curiosity, Zeus tried to split the difference with a quiet, “Hmm?”

“They’re breaking the ice in more ways than one, dear brother,” said Poseidon with a splash of his broad fishy tail that threatened to send a large amount of their hot bath over the edge of the huge tub. “Far too cold for me, don’t you think, Celestia?”

Celestia shivered and drew closer to Poseidon. “I much prefer the warmer climes. I could soak in here forever.”

“Well we can’t,” said Hera, who had taken advantage of Zeus’ inattention to swim up beside him and nuzzle him behind the ear. “After we’re good and toasty, Zeus and I have an appointment to get our manes done and our hooves shined.”

“We do?” said Zeus.

Primped and styled within a cubit of being mistaken for Adonis, Zeus left the spa with a backwards wave to the smiling staff. Hera was still engaged with at least a dozen stylists improving her manestyle, which seemed a waste because of the stunning beauty she was already displaying. Even though he was not an oracle, he could predict a hot time at the mansion tonight and a short lifespan for the impressive manestyle, which would give her the excuse to stop by here again tomorrow for more primping and pampering.

He decided to take the long way home in a casual walk around the mountain, with a brief stop at Celestia’s towering temple just to look at the ongoing construction. With one goddess or another requesting space to throw celebrations or hold events, the relatively simple temple had expanded and then expanded some more, until now it dominated the whole mountain with more construction ongoing every minute of the day. A constant flow of ponies and gods or goddesses in pony form flowed in and out of the gates. It was easy to tell which were ‘tourists’ out to explore this fascinating city on the mountain from the way they kept looking up at the rapidly-growing buildings and raising ‘cameras’ to capture the moment. Zeus could even recognize some of his children in pony forms acting as guides for the visitors, pointing out all of the most interesting landmarks in the constantly changing city. Even Hephaestus had upgraded from his open forge to a modern and productive building which no longer left a trail of sooty black smoke tracing up into the sky. Clever devices of pony design and god-driven construction had made ‘Hep Inc’ into a busy custom production facility in which Zeus had to make a reservation to meet with his own son.

Still, the finest thunderbolts produced by his factory were reserved for only one god.

“Excuse me, Dad. Hello?” Hermes was hovering in front of him, in pegasus pony form, of course with his slim physique and bright brown eyes an unmistakable indicator of his identity, if the feather-bedecked sandal on his flanks was not a dead giveaway. The letter-stuffed saddlebags on his back were new, as well as a snappy blue uniform which matched the one on the grey pegasus mare hovering behind him with a most unhappy look on her face.

“Excuse me, Great Zeus,” she said, frowning at his son. “Special Trainee Hermes, is that the way you refer to a customer while on your mail route?”

“No, Ma’am.” Hermes produced several letters and drew himself up into a respectful salute while still hovering with slow beats of his broad wings. “Great Zeus, sir. I brought your mail. Did you have any correspondence which needs to be delivered today?”

“No, son.” Zeus caught the wink and the nod of the head Hermes gave him, and inspected the grey mailmare a little more carefully. There was a new glitter of gold from a ring in her ear and a certain unmistakable attentiveness she was paying to Hermes’ muscular rear as she hovered made Zeus take a second look at the mail he had just been given. One of the envelopes carried Hermes’ return address and looked suspiciously like a wedding invitation. He turned it over for a moment before opening it and confirming the contents. “I suppose congratulations are in order. Is this the lucky… mare?”

“Yes, sir.” The grey pegasus swept down and gave Zeus a brief hug and a nuzzle on the cheek before fluttering back up to hover next to his son. Both of them were wearing such cheesy grins that Zeus could not even be angry. After all, she was no cow, but for a pony, she was quite the looker, and Hermes was proving to be a chip off the old block.

“Glad to have you in the expanding family,” said Zeus with a nod.

“Am I showing already?” said the mare with a quick look at her tummy.

“You’re fine, dear,” said Hermes, gently nudging his bride-to-be down the road. “We’ll drop by the house tonight after dinner, Father, and tell you all about it.”

“Why not before dinner?” asked the mare as they flew away. Hermes’ response was lost to the wind, but Zeus expected it was something critical about Hera’s cooking. Even as the Great Zeus, he could not complain that Hera only knew how to boil goats, eggs, and anything else that wandered accidentally into the kitchen. Well, he could complain, but that would only make matters worse.

“Shall I arrange a suitable wedding gift, Great Zeus?” asked his unicorn servant, who had managed to fairly pop into existence right by his elbow again. “I would think a crib would be in order, and fairly soon.”

“Yes, yes,” grumbled Zeus in a good-natured fashion. It would not be the first descendent he had with wings. In an impulse, he added, “That cousin of yours who can cook cherry tarts, is she still available?”

“I believe so.” The unicorn checked her notebook. “Would you like to interview her for a position on your household staff?”

Zeus considered for a moment and shook his head. “No. Just hire her. She starts the minute she can set foot on the mountain. Or hoof. We’ll see how she can cook when she’s here.”

“A pie?” Zeus looked at the steaming pastry which had just come out of the oven and considered the source. A small forest of golden apple trees now adorned that corner of Olympus, growing faster and bigger than even he had expected. The dragon had been instrumental in the endeavor, or at least the back end of the dragon, and even though the tree had processed the dragon dung into apples, he still imagined he could sense the faint odor of brimstone in the delicious scent welling up from the crispy crust. He prodded the crust with his fork and watched as the crumbling brown fragment dropped into the sticky mixture of apples and whatever else made a pie inside, then he surged forward, fork first, picked up a bite of pie, and bit.

He was not even surprised anymore. It vaguely tasted like the raw golden apples he had sampled before, but on a bed of sugary goodness with the crisp crunch of the crust and the hot firmness of the sliced apples making him scoop up a second bite before the first one had been fully chewed.

“It’s good,” he managed to mumble to the earth pony servant between bites. “I don’ know wha’ could make it better.”

“Actually, Great Zeus,” started the hesitant pony, “my cousin sent up something called ‘iced cream’ for you to sample with the pie, if you want.”

He stopped, one bite of pie dripping on the plate in front of him as he held the fork firmly in mid-air. Then he nodded. “It’s worth a try.”

It was.

Everywhere Zeus looked, there were ponies. Blue ones, yellow ones, pink ones, all the colors of the rainbow and more, flying through the sky and trotting between the buildings like they owned the place. Well, they might actually own it, if his fuzzy recollections about last night, a few barrels of fermented cider, and several young mares with playing card cutie marks were accurate.

Cursed poker.

Still, the streets were clean, the sky clear and blue, and the city had never seemed happier. There were no gods chasing each other with borrowed lightning bolts, or screaming about their wives being turned into household appliances or mystic signs. The mail arrived on time, unstained with the evidence of Hermes’ little side-trips into nymph bordellos or showing up several centuries after the fact. The delightful smell of baking muffins drifted up from downstairs where his wife's newest servant (not slave) was engaged in a battle to the death with the forces of the kitchen ingredients, soon to emerge victorious with a tray of pure heavenly deliciousness for him to try.

He gave a sigh and slipped into his familiar pony form, with broad shoulders and a flowing mane. It had become more comfortable than human form, and he stretched once before heading downstairs with the kitchen as his destination. Olympus may not have been the place it was before, but that was acceptable.

It was better.