• Published 31st Jul 2012
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What Princesses Need - Aegis Shield



The Lunar Stallions kidnap Twilight and give her to Luna as a gift.

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Intermission: Deep Psyche Origins

What Princesses Need
Intermission: Deep Psyche Origins

A caramel furred stallion with a brown mane flung himself onto his bed, sighing in an achy way. He hadn’t slept in far too long, and was eager to rest himself. Moaning and feeling a familiar ache in his knees and haunches, he wuzzled into the pillow like it was his lover. Murring softly, he heaved a great and restful breath.

The poor doctor’s mind was full of all things surrounding Luna. He’d just taken a needle to the proverbial boil of the situation in and around the palace—but it hadn’t been easy. All of that mess with Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, Shining Armor, and especially the Lunar stallions… it was just… just a mess. Being a young doctor who was fresh from the academy it was his job to maintain a demeanor of control and pleasantness at all times, but it was exhausting. It did not elude him that if he helped heal Princess Luna he would be set for life as a therapist, selfish though it sounded. There was not a pony alive that could write on their resume ‘helped a princess with psychological issues and succeeded.’ He knew he could not fail his Princess.

Deep Psyche turned over, staring at the wall. He’d been given a lovely little apartment in the palace. Just a simple thing with a bedroom, drawers, writing desk and bathroom attached. But, as a psychologist, a blank wall had special meaning to him. Blank, listless, and blessedly uncomplicated. He stared at it, his eyes slowly growing heavy.

Luna was making such good progress. After the group therapy session, he’d since had a follow-up interview with the dark alicorn. She seemed in much better spirits. But the doctor knew it wasn’t to last long. He had one more needle to thrust into Luna’s infections, to drain out the nastiness within. He’d mentioned it in her therapy, but the Princess didn’t seem to realize what he’d been implying. He hid his face under a hoof to blot out even the starlight coming in through his little window. “Lunar Stallions…” he moaned softly, as though it were a swear word. He had a scenario in mind, but Luna would NOT be happy. Unfortunately for him, though, he was not there to be Luna’s close friend. He was her therapist, and it was his job to make her well again, even if it meant her hating him when it was all over. Yes. Yes he would have to do it, and soon.

The stallion slid to sleep with a quiet and guilty sigh.

=-----=-----=-----=-----=

“H-he-huhhhh! Hey! H-hey!” A tiny brown colt stuttered to the point of choking himself, rearing up and trying to snatch his ball back from the trio of bullies keeping it from him. “G-! GUH! Give that b-back!” he didn’t stutter too often, but when he was upset it really did go out of control.

“What’s the matter, Deep Psycho?” guffawed the teen above him, shoving him away with a thrust of magic. The much smaller Deep Psyche hit the ground with a yelp, scraping his knee. “Can’t’cha just magic it back?” the larger unicorn sneered, holding the red sphere high and forward.

Deep Psyche whimpered a little, standing and thrusting his horn as high as he could. Screwing up his face with all his might. His horn crackle-fizzled, but did little else. He was still too small, he couldn’t use magic yet. “Please give it back?” he tried, his eyes big and soft.

Unfortunately, cute didn’t work on bullies in his own age group. “Aw c’mon, what’s the fun in tha--!” suddenly the ball lifted from the bully’s hoof and smacked into his face. “Owch!” he reared and whinnied a little. Deep Psyche looked up with a gasp. Had he done that? “Hey what gives—owch!” the ball smacked him again, then bounced on his head until he started staggering about. “Knock it off! Ow! Hey!” the young unicorn rushed back and forth, trying to dodge the possessed toy. “Guh!” he finally took off in a panicked gallop.

When Deep Psyche found himself alone, he watched the ball levitate slowly down and stop at his hooves. He smiled gingerly, then looked up at the entrance of the alleyway. There stood his mother, on her way home from work to pick him up from magic kindergarten. She'd been the one making the ball float and defend him. Smiling and bounding along on his clumsy hooves, he thrust himself up into her chest for nuzzles. She chuckled a little, leaning down and smiling over him. “We showed him what for, huhm?” her voice was mildly deep for a mare, but it was a comforting thing for him. “What did I tell you about going down dark alleys?”

“S-sorry mom.” Deep Psyche said, smiling apologetically. Quickly trying to change the subject as he went to retrieve his ball, he made a round to come back. “How was work?” he said with a smile.

“It was fine, sweetheart.” She turned sideways as they made ready to walk home. Her saddlebag was filled to the brim with odds and ends for carpentry work. The powder blue mare had a screw on her flank, which glistened when the sun was on it. Deep Psyche smiled, wishing he had his cutie mark. He was what you might call a late-bloomer. No cutie mark, and not much magic yet. But he’d get there! Celestia as his witness, he’d get there someday! “Want a ride, kiddo?” said his mother playfully, nodding towards her saddlebag. Normally it was filled with scrap wood for the repair jobs she did, but at the end of the day it was always empty.

“Yeah!” Deep Psyche galloped forward, trying not to mix up his hooves and fall flat on his face. He was still growing into his big hooves, according to his mother. His Dad had big hooves too, he’d inherited them from him. Finally, he reared up and flipped the big bag open. Using her muzzle, his mother scooped him up and into it. He popped out like a baby kangaroo, squealing in excitement. The silver-maned mare smiled, nuzzling her son briefly and making sure he had his ball and his school bag with him. Closing one clip on the saddlebag to make sure that her foal was secure, she started down the street. She cantered to make him bounce a bit and he laughed, peering about.

Trottingham was a place of wooden buildings and plenty of steep hills, so it really was a lesser burden for the tiny foal to ride in his mother’s saddlebag. She was a strong pony, always carrying tools and wood around to help everypony with their repair and building knees. She was his hero. He hoped that someday he could work with wood too, and continue his mother’s work. His father, Deep Thoughts, was an author of several long and icky boring books. He didn’t wanna write for a living, that was boring! Not that he didn’t love his Daddy very much, his mother was just more interesting in her work. More warm and alive in her day to day life. His father was gentler, quieter, and a more shy pony. They made the perfect couple, and a great Mom and Dad to boot.

Well, they did.

Deep Psyche’s mother didn’t see the runaway cart racing down one of the steep hills of Trottingham. She was too busy studying the neighborhood roofs, wondering whom to approach for the next leaky roof project—who might need a splint here or a new shingle there. Her foal and her bag of tools weighed her down, but she was a strong mare so it hardly mattered to her. She did, however, look up when she heard it mowing down other things. Market kiosks exploded in a wide display of flying fruit as it crashed into them and kept going. Ponies screamed, throwing themselves out of the way so they didn’t get run over. The cart was full of hay and farm implements, a huge and heavy load.

Deep Psyche’s mother stared in horror, like a deer in headlights, as the cart bore down on her in the middle- of the street. She couldn’t move, why didn’t she move? Her foal whimpered in her right-side saddlebag. Her heavy iron tools clanked in her left-side saddle bag. She did what any mother would do, turning sideways at the last possible second to shield her young.

The impact rocked the foal’s world as his mother cried out at the impact. Both of them were launched into the air, pinwheeling wildly as the spray of screws, nails, and tools cascaded through the air like rain. He heard the crunch of bones, and the snap of wood on the cart. One of the wheels broke, sending the whole thing turning upside down. It landed atop the powder blue mare and her son. It struck her over the head, sending a splatter of blood across the ground as the two of them were pressed hard against the cobblestone. The foal’s front left leg broke and he cried out in a piercing shriek of agony. “Momma’aaahhh!” The world was spinning wildly out of control in a furious tornado of loose hay bales, farm tools, carpentry stuff and spatters of blood. When blessedly and finally the horrific scene came to a halt, the cart stopped at the bottom of the hill with the mother and foal pressed under it. “Momma…” the foal lay there limply, tears streaming from his eyes.

She lay next to him, bleeding heavily from the head. A lump was rising fast on her scalp and her temple was pouring blood. Her saddlebags were tattered, but by Celestia she’d saved his life, shielding him like that. The foal began to cry loudly, holding his broken arm as ponies rushed onto the scene from all sides.

“Get it off them!” Somepony shouted. “Hurry! Lift it from there! Use the frame, the whole thing’ll budge!” Many strong earth pony hooves began to heave at the cart itself while magic grasped at all the debris. It pulled away the splinters of wood, bringing light into the dark where the foal and his mother lay. A stray dog stuck his nose under the cart, then its whole head, sniffing loudly. “One! Two! Heeeeeave!” There was a group-sized grunt of effort as many hooves started lifting the cart.

Deep Psyche’s mother awoke from her stunned limpness when the dog nosed her a little. She stared at it, her eyes pointed in oddly angled directions. She looked strange! Blood pattering the cobblestone beneath her, she weakly lifted her head and looked around blearily. “Momma!” The tiny foal wept, thrusting himself into her breast and thanking whatever higher power that she was alive. “Mommaaaa-ha-ha-hahhhh!” he started weeping as loudly as a foal could, squeezing her with all his might.

“ARF!” said his mother, eyes jutting in odd directions. The dog recoiled in alarm, and the powder blue mare snarled at it. The brown foal looked up at his mother in shock. What? “ARF ARF ARF!” she said. The cart was finally rolled off of them, and the gathering of worried ponies stared. The injured mare, bleeding from the head, bore her teeth at them and struggled to her hooves. Crouching protectively over her crying puppy, she barked wildly. “ARF! ARF! ARF ARF ARF!”

=-----=-----=-----=-----=

Deep Psyche awoke to a moist pillow, as though he’d been weeping in his sleep. He wished he didn’t have to remember his dreams. Wasn’t there a medication out there yet that could suppress them? Sighing and trying to ignore the tremble in his heart, he turned over and swallowed quietly. On the end table was a picture of a brown stallion, brown foal, and powder blue mare. “Momma?” he asked the picture softly, still half-asleep. It didn’t answer him. The white hospital gown the mare in the picture was wearing spoke volumes, though. He visited her in Ponyville General when he could, which wasn’t often, but… but… The therapist laid his head down again with a quiet sigh. He’d learned the hard way that he couldn’t help her, not even once he’d graduated from the academy and made his name as a practicing psychologist. His mother Screw Loose couldn’t be saved, but… maybe Princess Luna could. Maybe that would ease his conscious. If he hadn’t been riding in his mother’s saddlebag, she could’ve dropped the other saddlebag and gotten out of the way. Neigh, instead she’d turned herself into a pony shield at the last second.

Princess Luna could be saved. He had to save her. He rubbed his moist eyes, turning his back on the picture with a soft and shaky sigh. He hated dreaming.


End of Intermission