The night had been a long and sleepless one for Celestia, who had much to worry about. Now, exhausted, she was forced to face the day. She didn’t want to face the day, she wanted to lounge about in bed, maybe spend time with Luna, or Gosling, or perhaps both at the same time, but there was just too much to do.
She took a sip of coffee and missed her usual tea. She needed something stronger. She watched as Raven organised the day portfolio and sat in near silence, only saying something when a reply was necessary.
“Your meeting with the Cutie Mark Crusaders is coming up,” Raven said in a low voice. “As a reminder, they present an interesting conundrum—far too many ponies are getting the same sort of cutie marks or even identical cutie marks, causing certain job markets to become oversaturated with applicants, making some jobs very difficult to come by. Other jobs aren’t being filled. They have a presentation prepared, complete with a slideshow, and they believe it will become a national crisis.”
Ears drooping, Celestia took a sip of coffee. Their entire way of life did not adapt well with scale. When Equestria had been small, things seemed far more balanced. Or had they? Did things just seem balanced because ponies made do with what they had?
“Princess Cadance sent a dispatch. She will be returning to Canterlot to deal with Gosling directly—”
“What?” Celestia lowered her coffee cup and stared at her assistant.
“Princess Cadance got word from Gosling’s therapist about his condition. Cadance feels her personal touch is required. She believes this is more than just simple stress wearing him down.” Raven blinked and lifted a telegram sheet. “She says nothing else and offers no other details. Just that she is coming to deal with this.”
“Broken hearts are funny things. I’ll admit, I don’t understand them in the way that Cadance does.” Celestia took a sip of coffee and grimaced, her body trembling. This was Luna grade coffee. “Gosling does have a broken heart. The poor dear has to know that Skyfire was planning on using him. She was already pregnant. She knew that Gosling would marry the first filly he bedded. His own beliefs and values were being used against him.”
“His own beliefs and values saved him,” Raven replied as she set down Cadance’s telegram. “His integrity saved him from a bad life.”
“Raven, he loved her. For good or for ill, he loved her. And I think a part of him still loves her, even if he says he hates her. Gosling is a good pony and while he says he hates her, I do not believe him capable of strong hatred. His heart is gentle… Cadance coming to look after him to mend his broken heart proves my point, I believe.” Celestia stared down into her brown cup of mud and wondered how Luna drank this stuff.
“Will you allow him to pardon her?” Raven asked in a low whisper.
“I don’t know,” Celestia replied. “He makes a compelling argument and Blueblood agrees… we should focus our energies upon the press. Prosecute the one who instigated this mess. Blueblood also makes the argument that this could be seen as an attack upon the free press.”
“Blueblood has the peculiar gift of being objective enough to see both sides of an issue,” Raven said as she organised Celestia’s day planner with her own, syncing the two. “He’s infuriating sometimes, playing the draconequus’ advocate. But, he is seldom wrong.”
“Which is why I am worried.” Celestia’s eyes lifted and she looked over at her assistant. She could see her own reflection in Raven’s glasses. Her reflection looked tired. “Skyfire Flash is a foolish, foolish filly who has messed up her life. Gosling is right… she should be pardoned. Starlight Glimmer was shown mercy—”
“Starlight was sentenced to a lifetime of service and servitude to Twilight Sparkle’s cause as part of the agreement for leniency and mercy.” Raven gave Celestia an apologetic glance for interrupting. “Perhaps a compromise can be reached. Perhaps Skyfire can offer something in exchange for a pardon.”
Hearing Raven’s words, Celestia’s ears stood up and Celestia began nodding. “I like the sound of that. Mercy should be shown. A pardon should be given—but as an exchange. She should have some consequence to her actions, but be offered a chance to redeem herself in the eyes of the public.”
Raven cleared her throat. “Majesty, you should have Gosling decide what her fate is. If she is to be pardoned, you should make him think of something she can offer in return.”
Eyes narrowing, ears twitching, Celestia took a drink of coffee, which stained her lip brown. She took Raven’s words into consideration and her brow furrowed with deep, wide wrinkles. Her muzzle even crinkled and lines appeared in the corners of her eyes, making her look wizened. That would be a good test of Gosling’s leadership abilities.
Sighing, her many wrinkles vanishing, Celestia said, “Raven, we’re diminutive little horses. We’re fuzzy, we have big, adorable expressive eyes, and plush, squeezable bodies made for all manner of social contact. You’d think that we’d be happy playing out in green fields, dancing under the sun, the moon, and the stars. But no… no… we had to go and make things complicated. We had to build civilisation… develop a love of tea”—She looked down into her coffee cup and snorted in disgust—“we had to establish governance… the green fields gave way to villages, towns, and cities. At some point, things went very, very wrong. The tea was a brilliant idea, but everything else… ugh!”
Silent, blinking, looking owlish in her glasses, Raven stared at Celestia, not knowing how to respond. Raven’s head ducked down and she made herself look as small and meek as possible, not knowing what Celestia was up to. The silence became oppressive and Raven knew she had to make some kind of response. Celestia appeared to be waiting. Raven swallowed and felt very, very small compared to her beloved monarch.
“Well, some ponies didn’t like the taste of green grass… we had to have progress…”
Gosling nodded in appreciation as his mother placed a glass of water down upon his bedside table and then he smiled at her. He had been worried about having his mother around. She was an excitable mare. He would never say it of course, but she could be a major source of his stress. His mother could be very loud, very vocal, and very much a cause of tension in his life. He felt a little ashamed for being afraid about her showing up.
But, she hadn’t been herself. She was quiet, she was soft spoken, and she wasn’t at all excitable. Gosling wasn’t sure what was up, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his therapist, Lumina Loveletter, might have said something to his mother. He wanted to ask, he wanted to say something, but he didn’t dare do so out of the fear that it might touch off a shouting match—and Gosling was in no condition for a shouting match. He couldn’t even sit up on his own. He had pulled all of his stomach muscles and strained his abdominal wall. His lungs were burned and he had trouble just breathing. Every hour or so, he had to drink some horrible chalky drink that neutralised his stomach acid.
He felt bad that he was afraid of a shouting match with his mother. After everything she had done for him. Everything she had sacrificed. His mother had her own stresses and she just came on a little strong sometimes. She was a good mare—she just overreacted a little bit sometimes and when she overreacted, he overreacted, and then sometimes, things got out of hoof. But he loved her, so he dealt with it.
“Gossy, are you feeling okay?” Sleet asked.
It took some effort, but Gosling managed to reply, “I’m fine.”
“Okay, good. I gotta go… you need rest. Gossy…”
Something about the way her words had trailed off made him nervous. He waited. Gosling waited and felt cold sweat begin to trickle down his neck, not knowing for certain what his mother was about to do or say.
“Gossy, I’m sorry if I can be a little too much to handle sometimes,” Sleet said as she stood beside Gosling’s bed. “No, don’t say anything. I suspect that I had my own part in all of this. Sometimes, Gossy, you just fall into a rut and you take somepony for granted.” Sleet’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “I think you and I focused on survival so much… and you were just there… and when things got bad for me, I just let go and let the steam out because you were the only pony around that listened to me or cared about how I felt or what I thought. You were my friend, Gossy… for the longest time, you were my only friend. With all the work I did, with everything, you were the only pony I was comfortable talking to and I think I just dumped everything on you because you always acted so grown up and mature. And I was wrong for doing that, Gossy.”
As his mother walked away, heading for the door, Gosling said, “Hey Ma…”
He saw her turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her blue eyes held the promise of tears, but she was holding them back. He coughed and fought against the painful tickle in his throat. His tongue felt dry and was covered in painful lumps. When he spoke, it scraped against his teeth and hurt.
“Ma, I love yous…”
Sleet took another step for the door. “Gosling, I love you too.” Turning her head towards the door, she pulled it open. “We’ll talk more when you feel better. But for now, I need to go.” The white pegasus mare stepped through the door and was gone. The door shut behind her.
Gosling knew why she left. She didn’t want to upset him by crying, Stuck in the bed, Gosling felt a few tears trickle down his own cheeks and he felt wretched. She had left to avoid causing him more stress, but more stress seemed unavoidable. Even with the anti-nausea drugs, Gosling felt like puking his guts out.
“Seville…” Gosling was surprised to see the earth pony standing in his doorway. He coughed, his throat feeling raw, and he watched as Seville stepped inside, a heavy, battered, beat up bag draped around his neck. “What brings you here?”
“I was worried about a friend,” Seville replied. “I’m not here as a reporter, which is why Raven gave me permission to visit you.”
Hearing these words made Gosling feel a little better. He had been feeling pretty low since his mother had left. He was glad to see Seville. He liked the amicable earth pony. He turned his head so he could get a better view of Seville as he sat down.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Gosling said in a croaking voice. He fought back the urge to cough. “I could use a little help with something, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh?” Seville turned his head and blinked. “Anything for a friend… after what you did for me… just let me know how I can help.”
Struggling to collect his thoughts, Gosling fought back a wave of nausea and tried to think about how to best present his ideas. For a moment, it felt as though the bed was moving beneath him, and the ceiling over him seemed to distort. He felt queasy almost to the point of puking. All of his vomiting and stomach acid had messed up his inner ears, which the doctor said might be permanent.
“I need help writing something out. A statement. As the future consort, I need to let ponies know how things are going to be.” Gosling gulped and clutched his stomach with his hooves, then waited for the queasiness to subside a little. “Nothing too serious, just a gentle reminder. I think it is time for some changes.”
“I can help!” Seville replied with a great deal of enthusiasm.
“And once it is written, you must take it to Raven,” Gosling said. His eyes narrowed and he gazed at his friend. “Tell her that I insist. I will be more than a pretty bird in a gilded cage.”
“Okay.” Seville’s head bobbed.
Gosling let out a foul smelling acidic burp and then said, “Seville… a pony’s castle is his home…”