Distracted, Celestia was alone with her thoughts. She was curious about so many things. Things like, how did one end up with Cadance as part of your therapy team? As Celestia read over the civic proposals that were the same as every other civic proposal she had read, she thought about this. She supposed that patients were evaluated based upon their need, in much the same way that promising students were evaluated and brought to Celestia’s attention. Some foals had troubling magic and needed a little special education.
Somehow, Gosling had been brought to Cadance’s attention quite some time ago. Celestia had figured that much out on her own. As she read one pony’s attempt to beg for money, Celestia began to suspect that Cadance had been up to something for quite some time. Celestia had taught Cadance to play the long game; manipulate events, ponies, and circumstances so that one could get a desired result from future events.
Celestia put down the template effort for Crown funding and scowled. Had Gosling been groomed from the start with the hopes that he might make a good consort? Celestia began to wonder if Cadance had known just how crushing the loneliness was. Had she been played all along? Celestia felt a prickle creeping up her neck. Yes, she thought, this has all of the hallmarks of a pet project. Gosling is down and she is coming to look after him herself. Brows furrowing, Celestia continued to think about it, trying to discern just how much she had been played. Even Luna had been drawn in and old bones from the past had to be dealt with. Those things might not be fixed, not completely, there were still some emotions to sort out and maybe a few well spoken words to say, but the issue was being dealt with.
And with a master stroke, Cadance had provided relief from loneliness for not one, but two mares. Luna was getting the help she needed, whether she wanted it or not. Unsettled, feeling emotional and out of sorts, Celestia needed a distraction. She needed a walk, she needed some fresh air perhaps.
Through happy circumstance, a much needed distraction was provided.
Raven held a folded piece of paper over head and had an expectant look upon her face. Still feeling out of sorts, Celestia took the paper from Raven, unfolded it, and asked her assistant, “What is this?”
“This is an open letter to the press… from Gosling… and he seeks permission to have it released,” Raven replied as she moved to sit down upon a cushion beside the low, ornate table. “Gosling seems to have this notion that he is going to be your consort. For certain. I do believe he has made up his mind. He is putting his bedridden state to good use. I approve.”
“You would…” Celestia pulled open the paper and held it close. The script was small and somewhat plain looking. It had been written with an auto-writing pen. This was a rough draft, in clear need of editing, and the language would need to be gone over so that the proper application of force could be achieved.
A pony’s home is his castle, and you mugs are in my home— Celestia felt her eyebrow arching and she glanced over at Raven, who had hidden her face behind a newspaper. She continued reading, not knowing how Raven felt about this. It certainly had Gosling’s special touch, right there in the opening sentence. —and if you plan to remain guests in my home, you is gonna obey my rules, you got that? You will respect my wives, both of them. You reporter types seem to forget that you were invited into somepony’s home, a place where somepony lives. Disrespect my wives under my roof, and I will have you thrown down the stairs, the big ones in the big ballroom— “Raven, is this a joke?” Celestia blinked a few times in astonishment.
“Oh no, I think he’s serious. He might be a little over-medicated, but he’s serious, make no mistake.” Raven’s voice came from behind her newspaper, which did not move.
Ponies have to live in this home. This is the place where my foals are going to be raised. This is a place where a family lives. So, you mugs come into my home, the place where my family lives, and you will show respect. Got that? Any reporters that forget this simple rule will be tossed out of my home and will never be allowed to return again. You come into my home as a guest, you behave like a guest, and you show some f— Celestia gasped and lifted her eyes from the paper. Well, this was going to need some cleaning up! —king respect, you dirty, no good, rotten little twa— Her eyes lifted from the paper again and Celestia felt a buttery smoothness spreading through her loins. She coughed and continued. —ts. I mean it, I will have my home respected, and my wives. I will send you home with a f— Celestia’s heart fluttered in her chest as she could almost hear Gosling’s voice as she read his words. —king rupture. I wouldn’t come into your home and behave this way, no, you’d toss me out. So I ask for the same in return. Badaboom, baddabing.
Half read, Celestia put the paper down. “Raven… I… uh, well, he brings up a good point. At what point did we all forget that this is our home and that we live here?”
Raven lowered her newspaper and peered over the top edge at Celestia. “Because this is also the seat of power and everypony here treats it as if it was an office workspace. I don’t know. I don’t have a good answer. But I approve of his idea of having unruly reporters thrown down the stairs and I also think that the stocks should be restored to the castle courtyard, just as he suggests on the second page. The rotten vegetables to be thrown could be sold and the proceeds could be used to support charity.”
“Oh my,” Celestia said to herself. She didn’t know how she felt, other than buttery.
“Gosling goes on to suggest that if the press want a more confrontational setting, it can be done outside of the castle, someplace else, and they can all gather and wait to see if anypony arrives to take their abuse. He goes on to state that access to the Crown is a privilege, not a right, and if continued access is desired, a change is necessary. He says that he will be working on a charter to protect that privilege and even increase access to the Crown, but only for reporters of exceptionally good manners, grace, and wit.”
“Raven, how did this diamond in the rough go unnoticed?” Celestia asked.
“Oh, he was noticed,” Raven replied, “Cadance found him.” Raven shrugged behind her paper and cleared her throat. “He’s got some book learning and he’s in dire need of practical hooves on experience, but his ideas are sound. He wants to make access a contest in who has the best manners with the prize being access to the best stories and the best information. He’s combining game theory with what he has learned about communications.”
“Do you approve?” Celestia asked of her most trusted assistant.
“I think his ideas need refining, but yes,” Raven replied. “I think if his idea is implemented, there will be a lot less stress on everypony. The press gets the stories they want, we get nicer journalists, and the public gets the information they need.”
“Bias will be an issue.” Celestia set down the papers she was holding. “There will be accusations of bias if the Crown and the press become a little too friendly. For some ponies, truth can only be found through aggressive confrontation and all out battles between the Crown and the press. The public feels better if the information was pried out unwillingly.”
“That can be dealt with. We have Blueblood.” Raven put down her newspaper. “Blueblood does so enjoy his hobbies.”
“So… the press goes from cutthroat to cotillion…” Celestia blinked a few times, her eyelids fluttering. “I like how this sounds. I mean, this is what we’ve been trying to encourage with the press parties we throw, but we always end up with bad guests who shout about freedom of the press if confronted about bad behaviour—”
“And the press will have plenty of freedom to behave like jerks, they’ll just have to do it someplace else,” Raven said, finishing off Celestia’s words. “With nopony paying attention to them.”
Rising from her cushion, Celestia bit down upon her lip as she was assaulted by the silky, slippery warmth betwixt her nethers. She took a moment to recover as she stood there. A million thoughts raced through her mind, like a derby where the winning thought was given top priority as a prize. Foal Making and Motherhood were running neck to neck, with Dirty Thoughts hot on their heels.
Still biting her lip, Celestia wondered if her old Wonderbolts uniform would fit. She hadn’t flown with them in so long. But she didn’t have plans to fly in it… no… she wanted to wear it as gift wrap—so Gosling would have something he had to work to peel off. Dirty Thoughts and Foal Making were now running nose to nose, with Motherhood falling behind in the bend. Celestia was going to have to rig the race so that Motherhood would be delayed, Dirty Thoughts and Foal Making needed more time in the pasture of her mind.
“Raven, you must excuse me, I need to go,” Celestia announced, “I need fresh air!”
It was a tight fit, but Celestia made it work. She snuggled up beside Gosling in his bed, ignoring his squirming and his protests. If Luna could get a snuggle, then Celestia was getting some snuggle time as well. Celestia lay with Gosling’s back against her belly and his ears twitched against her soft throat.
“Something about this doesn’t feel right—”
“Oh shush, you spooned with Luna,” Celestia said in a low, teasing voice.
“That felt wrong too, but I couldn’t do anything about it.” Gosling, who had no real energy to struggle, went still, his barrel pinned beneath Celestia’s foreleg. The warmth of her body was soothing against his. He was still sore all over from dry heaving. It felt good, he had to admit. Not in a sensual way, it just felt good. It was comforting. Gosling relaxed and let the moment happen.
“You seem to have made a decision,” Celestia said as she moved her head around on the pillow, feeling the soft fabric against her cheek. The pillow was still cool and didn’t need to be flipped over. Not yet. “Care to talk about it?”
“What can I say?” Gosling could feel Celestia’s neck against the back of his head, between his ears. He could feel her breathing, the sensation of life within her. He pressed his head against her and felt his mane sliding against her velvet pelt. “I made it this far… I slipped a little bit…” Gosling’s voice was raspy and wet sounding as he spoke. “But I haven’t given up.”
“Do I mean that much to you?” Celestia asked.
“Do you really need an answer for that?” Gosling shuddered as the tickle in the back of his throat became painful. His body jerked and he found himself pressing against Celestia for comfort. His stomach jerked into a painful knot.
“I might be a mare of near infinite power, but I still like hearing that somepony wants me.” Even as she spoke, Celestia was aware of how vulnerable her words made her sound. “I want to know that I’m special to somepony else… I like hearing it.”
Gosling sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m kinda worried about being wanted.”
“Gosling?” Celestia gave the colt in her embrace a squeeze.
“Doc says I have a laryngopharyngeal reflux problem. Not only have my lungs been burned, but those little tubes that go up into my ears… my inner ears have been eaten up by acid. Just before you came the doc came and talked to me. It’s probably going to be permanent.”
“Oh, I could still love you if you had ear problems,” Celestia said in a reassuring voice.
“No, it’s worse than that,” Gosling said as he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “Lots worse.”
“How bad?” Celestia asked. She felt her muscles tensing.
“Doc says that it will be like being drunk all the time. It’ll be hard for me to balance.”
“What about flying?” Celestia felt a growing tightness in her barrel.
“I won’t have a sense of balance. Doc came right out and said that I’m probably grounded. I don’t know how I feel about it.” Gosling opened his eyes. “I was given a sedative before they gave me the news. I just feel kinda numb all over and I can’t seem to be upset about it.”
“I didn’t even know that this could be a problem.” Celestia cringed, realising how useless her words sounded only after she had said them. “This changes nothing, Gosling. We’ll get you better. We can see what physical therapy can do. Perhaps there is medication that can help.”
“Doc says that I am always going to feel nauseous now because my inner ears were fried. It’s why I can’t shake this queasiness.” Gosling felt relieved just letting everything out. He was even more relieved by the fact that Celestia was still holding him.
“Gosling… darling… about us…”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve committed yourself to this life, haven’t you?” Celestia asked.
“I have,” Gosling replied.
“Do you wish to keep courting me?” Celestia felt her throat tighten.
“No.” Gosling felt relief even as the word left his lips.
“Good, because I’m sick of waiting. I want you in my bed and at my side.”
“I want you… now and forever, I want you.” Gosling coughed and waited for a moment of nausea to pass. “I will remain steadfast at your side, if you will have me.”
“You know, I am taking the rest of the day off… just so we can be together… just like this. I like this. I’ve missed this.” Celestia closed her eyes and inhaled, filling her lungs. “Plus, I think you need me. That sedative isn’t going to last forever and that dreadful news is going to sink in, Gosling. And when it does, I will be here for you.”
“I feel sleepy.” Gosling yawned and felt his throat burning as he breathed.
“Then sleep, dear one, and I shall be here when you wake. I promise.”
“I love you.”
“And I return your love,” Celestia replied as she gave Gosling a little squeeze. “How do you feel about eloping? The Crystal Empire is nice this time of year…”