• Published 30th Apr 2016
  • 8,343 Views, 392 Comments

There Goes The Neighborhood - Georg



At one time, Mount Olympus was the home of the Greek gods. Then they let the first pony in. There goes the neighborhood

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Sunrise

There Goes The Neighborhood
Sunrise


Towering above the plains and mountains of Greece, but only in a metaphorical way because the physical mountain Olympus could only be in one place without an enormous amount of physical effort being expended by mortals to move it, while the home of the gods could be wherever or whenever they wanted it to be…

Where was I? Oh, yes. Mount Olympus.

Olympus was a peaceful place, relatively. And most of those relatives were related to Zeus, Father of the Gods (and sometimes grandfather, or uncle, or second cousin once removed, but we digress.) Zeus Allfather (and sometimes other relative as mentioned earlier) surveyed his domain with a smug sense of satisfaction. Drunken debauchery would start shortly, as the sun was about to rise and shake any number of nubile dryads and satyrs from their exhausted slumber so they could begin frolicking among the immense number of hanging gardens and little private nooks across the mountain, each just the right size for two young gods and goddesses, or maybe three.

“Zeus!” The amount of lungpower Hera could exert in a single word shook the windows and rattled the roof tiles of their huge heavenly home. “Have those two new goddesses shown up yet?”

“No, Honeybunch!” called back Zeus, concealing a wince. Gods and goddesses seemed to show up on Olympus every week, but he had been looking forward to meeting these two without the presence of Hera Allmother looking over his shoulder. They were supposed to be sisters, the next best thing to twins, and of inestimable beauty and grace too. Young goddesses always enjoyed being shown around by the biggest god on the mountain and introduced to the (ahem) pleasures of their new home.

He conjured up a quick brass mirror and checked his reflection in the glow of the impending sunrise, manifesting a little more hair around his receding hairline and putting a bit more dimple into his chin. Even Hera Allmother could not watch everywhere, and since Argus had been ‘accidentally’ killed by Hermes, the number of eyes following Zeus had been reduced by a substantial fraction. At least one of the sisters was going to get lucky today, if Zeus had anything to say about it.

And he did.

The sound of approaching hooves in the darkness distracted Zeus from ensuring his hairstyle was properly parted, so he unmanifested the mirror and struck a noble pose, turning towards the oncoming lucky goddesses with a broad smile and a loud, “Welcome to Olym—

SILENCE!

The window Zeus had been standing beside blew out in a cloud of glassy powder while the clatter of roof tiles across the uncompleted garden behind the house gave notice that part of the roof above his head had became somewhat less of a roof and more of a framework where said tiles once rested. Zeus himself was blown back several cubits and temporarily blinded by the blast of wind accompanying the ear-bursting volume of the most certainly goddess-level command. As his ears finished ringing and he blinked the dust out of his eyes, he could feel his heart beating faster and an irresistible smile start to spread across his face. Now that was the voice of a goddess, powerful and strong, not like the shrill harping and complaining of his beloved and far too attentive wife. He turned back in the direction of the new arrivals with a genuine smile and a little bit of a leer leaking out around the edges. He looked up, past the tall legs and flowing manes of the horses the goddesses had ridden to his door and was just opening his mouth to greet them (in a far quieter fashion) when he noticed a certain absence of goddessness on top of the horses.

Perhaps they are very small. Or invisible.

“Excuse me.” This voice was very soft, and whispered as if it were at the bottom of an immense avalanche waiting to happen. “Great Zeus, sir. I’m so pleased to meet you after all these years.”

Of all things, the horse’s mouth was moving to match the words. It was a magnificent horse indeed, with broad white wings and a spiraling horn coming out of its forehead, much as if the best parts of a unicorn and Pegasus had been brought together into one perfect being. A river of pastel colors pooled around its bare hooves from a cascade of glowing hair flowing down from its tail and majestic mane. Topping the whole elegant sight was a small golden crown fitted with a violet gem, which glittered in the darkness as if it held sunlight just ready to burst out across the dark mountain.

While Zeus attempted to make sense out of his surroundings, the horse cleared her throat again. “Pardon me, Great Zeus? If this is a bad time, we can come back later.”

“We?” murmured Zeus as he finally became fully aware of a second horse of somewhat smaller stature leaning against the first, seemingly sleeping on its hooves with a small whinnying snore. Where the large winged and horned horse was a creamy white with brilliant pastel mane, this one smaller one was of a much darker hue, closer to indigo, or even black in the pre-dawn glow and waning moonlight of Zeus’ doorway.

The snoring horse gave out a little snort when the taller horse nudged it and whispered, “Luna, wake up. We’re here. Luna? You’re embarrassing me again. You know how important first impressions are.” The white horse smiled at Zeus, in a genuine way which somehow made the Father of the Gods feel as if he had just done something wonderful and deserved a pat on the head. “I’m sorry, Great Zeus. My sister was so excited at being elevated to full goddesshood I’m afraid… She tried to out-drink this nice gentleman named Dionysus. Your son, I believe.”

“Oh,” said Zeus, having attempted the heroic feat once himself, and suffered the consequences afterwards. Then after a moment, “I see.”

“And Silenus,” said the white horse.

“Oh,” said Zeus. That was one heroic feat he had never attempted.

“And a zebra named Mbaba Mwana Waresa, I believe.”

“Quiet, my sister,” whispered the dark horse. “Pleaaaaaase?”

A certain phrase which had been percolating through Zeus’s fairly thick skull finally made contact with some active brain cells. “Elevated to goddesshood?”

The white horse seemed to be set back a step. “Oh, I’m sorry, Great Zeus. We failed to introduce ourselves. I am Celestia, Goddess of the Sun, and this is my sister—”

“Another goddess of booze?” prompted Zeus at Celestia’s brief pause and the smaller horse’s whimper. “We have far too many of those already.”

Celestia sighed and managed to roll her eyes without interrupting her pleasant smile. “Luna, Goddess of the Moon. And moonshine, it appears.”

“I thought we already had a goddess of the moon,” said Zeus with a thoughtful frown. “Selene, wasn’t it? She drives her chariot across the sky at night.”

“Blasted heavy hunk of celestial wood,” muttered the dark horse, seeming to try to tunnel into her sister’s neck as a pillow. “Far easier just to stay on the firmament and lift.”

“Selene has been an alias of my sister for many, many years,” whispered Celestia. “People seemed to accept her better if they believed the goddess of the moon had toes and fingers.”

“Wait a moment,” said Zeus as he considered the possibility. “You can not tell me Apollo is a myth. He is my own son.” He paused and looked over his shoulder for Her Motherness and gave a quick prayer of thankfulness to himself that Hera was still in the house.

Celestia shrugged. “I’ve been pulling the chariot by myself while your son has been interning in a hospital down there for the last decade or so. He’s about to become a resident in internal medicine. Hasn’t Hermes been bringing your letters? I know he’s been writing to you and his mother Leto. He’s such a good boy.”

“Why, yes he is.” Eyes darting back and forth, Zeus quickly tried to move the conversation on to a subject which would not result in Hera berating him around the house for another of his excess progeny outside of the maternal pantheon. “Of course, before you are accepted as full goddesses, you will need to demonstrate—”

Luna’s horn glowed a dark indigo and the moon slid down below the horizon just as smoothly as if it were being pulled on a string. She stuffed her face even firmer into Celestia’s neck and whimpered, “Have mercy, Celly. Make it quick.”

“I’m sorry, Luna. It’s time.” Celestia’s horn glowed gold and the sun rose up in all of its glory with crimson clouds and a distant trumpet fanfare. Rays of brilliant sunlight coruscated across the sky in a shimmering display of heavenly glory which lit Mount Olympus in a majesty it had never seen before. Birds across the mountain burst into ecstatic song, a sparkling rainbow spread across the heavens above, and Zeus could not help but take a deep breath of the fresh morning air and feel several centuries younger.

“I do think the salpinx did a marvelous job with the trumpet fanfare, don’t you Great Zeus?” Celestia stood facing into the sun with her mane blowing behind her in such glorious display that Zeus could swear he heard a number of nature sprites in the garden diving for their paintbrushes and easels.

“Ahh… Yes.” Zeus cleared his throat. There could only be one Allfather Zeus on the mountain, and this horse was treading close to the line. “There is one more problem needing addressed. You see, Olympus has a rather strict immigration policy. Divine humans only. We’ve never had—” Zeus looked over the two divine equines, from pointy horns to hooves “—horses as permanent residents before.”

“Totally understandable,” said Celestia, nodding her head. “But I could not help but notice on our way here how many nymphs and dryads were awakening to begin their cavorting around.”

“Staff,” said Zeus.

“Adorable ones too,” said Celestia. “Cute little rumps and darling little breasts. There must be such a cloth shortage here, because the whole bunch seemed to be sharing one kerchief as an outfit. And they looked chilly.”

Zeus cast a quick glance behind him for Hera. “Other than the nymphs and dryads, we’re a very human organization.”

“And satyrs,” said Celestia.

“Oh, and them,” said Zeus.

“And sprites,” said Celestia.

“Yes,” said Zeus. “All perfectly valid residents.”

“And Pegasus,” said Celestia.

“Of course,” said Zeus.

There was a very long pause.

Celestia smiled and waggled one wing.

Author's Note:

Author note: