The Morrigan Crown

by Perpetually Confused

I Like Grumpy Shadow Better.

Those were perhaps the first time any rational being had over made any such evaluation of my person. I've been called many a flattering, to most measures outside myself, appraisal, and much more unkind ones by far to few for my well, and far too many of that account to true for the continued comfort of my wrath and pride. The beasts must be fed, it has long been known, lest they fall in torpor in time of dire or grow to such desperation as to see struck those loved or a unwarranted blow fall upon the guiltless and innocent.

None here but the pained and desperate to speak so plainly, as Gale did with Tornado's dismissal... And the little filly who stood before me, looking up at me in absolute defiance of any consideration of station or years. It was, in absolution, as it was so long ago, with our tribe, though I did not think so then. I only spoke this story at her asking, but yes. This was as with the foals of Morrigan, her daughters who were as she was in youth, wild and foolish and free, as it was with her colts to their sire, proud and strong and prone to quick anger, but seeming just as soon in forgiveness and all as though it never had been. We, our tribe, had forgotten that there were things of our being as mares that could not be winnowed away or even fully hidden no matter our dedication or honing of skills. We adopted the customs of war but forgot why it was so.

We had also forgotten our shameless ability to know the feelings of others, and while mares and stallions do in a way have the same knowledge, stallions have the good sense to mind their damned thrice fucking business and consideration to allow their follows to continues lives of blessed ignorance. But that obnoxious little cunt, as was your mothers evaluation of my darling, saw through my attempts at smiling, and called me out on it.

I only stared at her a moment, then growled. She just paunched her lip out and would not budge, so I relented. I stopped smiling. I had, due to events, been attempting to put her at ease and make transitions of matters as painless as could be feasible without taking to much from her... And had insulted her instead. I instead scowled as thunderously as I could, this time being true in face and letting her know my displeasure at her for this in ways unspoken but known by any who dared to cross their mother's ire.

"Is that to your liking, or shall I slice it away and let you mold it to your spoiled whims?"

Giggling, she clapped her hooves in approval, and nuzzled her head under chin.

"No Mater. That would make you do naught but improve things, and see our own in deepest envy."

Yes, tis true. But a whelp, but has an almost terrifying and insightful mind, well beyond any I've seen. She keeps apace in drills and is seen as a fellow Kicker, and even well liked and better still respected, but it would not be for any virtue on us. She likes us, emulates and pays respect to our ways, but is quite aware of our loathing in being outdone. She does not hide her mind or mental accumen, but she does not flaunt it either. She's ours, and as such is privy to our doings, some of which we do not even knowing done as it is so or why. Its just how the herd trots, I suppose.

More unsettling is her alpha status. Judging from in the first clue my filly's stomping home in silent fury at Sunbeam's form a sparring ill suited her. No no, it is your ways. Your pranks and japes rankle us, but really, its no different then the rough sport of clan and parent. What terrified me though was her silence. If she had vented, raged, it meant she was just getting it out and planned nothing more. But that... Ah, so Sunbeam actually saw her as finally seeing the depth of her loving tutor's benevolence and wisdom and now would see her wishes met, and would from there grow into another of Sunbeam's many thralls. In short, she assumed because the wolf bared not a fang or whimper or even tensed it meant herself safe.

Well, I could only shudder in despair when she returned hold smiling and humming cheerfully, and knew that in but far to little time she would prove to be the herald of your lovely and entirely enticing mother in full plummage of furious and wounded mare, promising the switching upon her vandal's flank long and merciless. The beatings, when Sunbeam, will only cease once morale improved or more pressing, or more likely enticing, prey is present. Hmm... A rather bleak outlook there, I'd be of a similar mind if my mother not only a mare, and thus forgot nothing and forgave only with all knowing it was still to be used in any circumstance deemed worthy, but was of disposition cruel and lacking in foresight or feeling of matters about.

Hmm? Oh, why then had I, in full knowledge of my foals ways and wiles, and did us all deepest pride not cease her advance and dispatching of ones quarry til submission or death, not forewarn Sunbeam of such a thing? Because one, she would have gone forth regardless, and as long as she acts in my clan unicorns benefit, acts to her betterment and not for her own agenda, and agenda there is in any dealing with Sunbeam Sparkle, my lovely and passionate angel will hear not a peep or so much as a feather ruffled in agitation. I have no less then utter faith in her and her abilities, and I trust her with my own and clan with utmost confidence.

But mostly I was just being a petty old bitch and Sunbeam had finally been cunt enough as to warrant not giving a flying feather over her grievance or perceived state of harm. I only felt remorse at her eventual calling to her tower and demanding due blood tithe from behind screen... I know not what had been done nor her state of appearance, but her eventual bursting into actual tears and begging for me to at the very least whip enough from the little demon as to make it squeal the number and placing of all her traps and snares. She did go on for some time in this. How bad was it?

A zebra mohawk... purple with stripes of blue and green polka dots... And after her beating, she came back to her office with her accoutments stuck upon the ceiling. And awoke the next morning in her bed atop the tallest tower. Not in it, on the tip of the spire. Fear not Midnight... she was in no danger, you know that.

Pax Midnight, no harm was done. She... wait... no mare, none of that! I only felt such ill for Sunbeam, spare me your blubbers, I... Wait, your truly upset, aren't you? Midnight, now see... Child, I say now, you go too far! Do not doubt my love, and indeed it so, for you and yours, nor ponder it again in all your days, for I shall know, and seek you out so I can tell you again! Here, come here...

I'm not much for embrace, so forgive if it seems forced. I worry your harm if I squeeze to tightly... No, no, its not you. I feared to near hysterics with Ash at his birth, and had to ask others aid with him. I truly feared I'd crush him, he was so small... Maker Midnight, you shake so, over such little a matter. I think we needst speak at length before more of her. No, it does matter. And no, you'll not hear a utterance more hence till your seen too. And no, you may not leave my forelegs until I'm sure of your centering.

No, no, we don't wish her pay for anything. You know I care for Sunbeam. But I care for so much I won't let her have the chance to do more harm to herself then I can stop. No, she's not a child, and neither are you, aye, tis so. But thats not so with my little unicorn. Yes, she acted quite badly, and like all my clan, will learn that I will not allow as I once did. The blood debts and honor bouts and blind eyes are over, and grumble and accuse as they are and will, I will allow all those and all undue doing of harm no longer. Before I may have allowed it, have allowed their blinding cloth and hobblers, but no more.

Why? I suppose tis a fair question. No blood no foul and no laws broken, so why pursue matters? Because I love her, as I do all my family, kin and clan. Mater and Pater are no mere words, my daughter. They are perspectives. I do not, of course, hold all in such sight, nor attend them to such degrees. Some I simply must see cut loose and left to their own simply for the fact I can only do so much, and moreover I must believe them worth my time.

No... I don't think I'm better then your mother, or any of the nobles really. I might be incensed with them on matters politic, but have no strong feelings with much of their ways one way or another. Is what hard?

Well... I never stop caring. But... I wonder, did we, my tribe... did we ever care? Yes, they said it was so, but what does words matter, or what scrawled ink testifies matter if one not there to see it so? But then... what good is old ways and tradition when it is merely acted out for the sake of not wanting to be outcast, what use is the order it offers when it makes... well, my tribe.

I suppose so... I like to think your mother's voice is sweeter though even if what is said is the same. No, I know that. She isn't just a pretty voice and seductive demeanor... I think ponies are just scared of her. And I think they fear her not for her deeds or supposed evil, but that their limited sense of things. No, thats unfair. I think... I think they just can't stand themselves. Midnight... have you ever wanted to just... fix her? I mean... you have to know that shes tearing herself open and wounding herself again and again. And no doubt sees you at...

No? Pax child, I meant no harm, and I would not see my labored for work undone. So... whom does she blame? Herself. I'm... well then. I was wrong. I apologize.

Hmm? Now that, I am not shocked to hear: Sunbeam admits no wrong and makes no excuses. She merely acts where others stand with all their well wishes and "when will others fix matters". Given their braziness and blatant pursuits of all matters carnal, I would not be much surprised to learn she is the descendant of Hurricane and his wanton mares. No, he was a stallion. And the reason for such confusion was one particular instance where Smart Cookie, incensed over his overt and uncouth ways, turned him into the quarry of his wandering eyes. I take it from the snort you take a different view? And that would be?

Rather odd, given you and your mothers solitude. Don't you grow lonely? Yes, you have her, but... Midnight, your grown, and you do know, even were you to stay at her side, she will die?

Yes, I suppose... well, I guess you do have a family then. But... Midnight, I want to be clear: you are clan, but I have made it known you are not of it. You have full citizenship under law, by our standards, but you are not bound as we are. You may, as you will, feel free to speak on matters, and even at times to intercede in what you deem immoral, and on their own lives none would act to stop you. Not for a lack of will, but because we regard many things as matters of conflict as between two persons. We were wrong in its execution, but...

I suppose... I suppose you've heard the Hearths Warming tale? We hold it as true as well, but we also remember they who saved us... And learned from their wisdom as much as their failings, or did. But for the nonce, we speak of our kin, Hurricane. Or the kin of of all our tribe and clan, for he bore no name and was beholden to none, and was one whose loyalty not a thing bought for any price, gained long through deceit for he saw things for what they were and how so as much as he may have wished they were as he wanted, and was thought a traitor for his last walk, as he laughed and sang in his parting, bearing none of the supposed shame he was supposed to be feeling when he chose their exile instead of slitting his own throat for his failure of duty.

His failure was not being what they wanted and making it such that they dare not to be him. I suppose we could speak of him more, if you could remain for the night... we'll speak of our little terror in the morn. As you will...

First, we should speak of matters of power. It is, here and abouts, that there are those who are simply better by merits of birth. That they are born with inherent traits and dispositions suited towards the rule of others, and that it is of the highest morality that they be allowed to act as the embodiment of their nation and its people. And the people, as it is proposed, are as nature decrees meant to show due tithe and veneration to their lords and ladies, and to adhere to the laws of land. One of course merely needs bring the matter to the Rahj and learn more then what is healthy in how they feel is what they regard as abhorrent, but then the rahj have ever been not willing to be beholden to any but themselves.

We, of course, espouse the virtues of meritocracy over all things, claiming the acts of valor and loyalty over all things. To be loyal and honorable is our highest goal. As our lives secondary to the innocent, our wish for tyrannies end, our love of family. We had never once questioned these things. We had no kings and were beholden to none but ourselves. We are free. Free to chase terrified ponies off cliff ends, free to see all things outside ourselves as the acts of lesser minds and hearts, free to make a king in all but name, but worse then that. For a Commander...

In function, a Commander is three things: a king, a high priest, and a general. They act as arbiter and studier of laws and act in their execution, they oversee and regulate the cults and sects to see they do not seek sedition, and they command us as warriors. They are in every the embodiments of ours ideals. Hurricane is venerated by all, but for us, he did more. He set us free Midnight. We say, this, that, you, they, does not matter. And he, if he were here, he would look at us, and say "But it does matter, Citizen Bright, Citizen Rightly... Citizen Shadow."

I have his time in that era abouts... but first. look. This was the lesson he learned up there, on that cliff. See this. A tea cup. Empty. It has purpose, though it is not in use. What is its value? Not in bits, but what is it worth to you or me? Little, we suppose. And to a pauper, less, for it is not food nor will it bring food. It has only as much value as we are willing to put into it. I could dash it across the floor, and before our rebellion, to me it was nothing. To me, Hurricane's words rang hollow.

But... it does matter. An artisan toiled at it, spent all their lives in study to make such things, and as do so many other crafters, artists, and the like. Mayhaps I find no value in their dalliances, think them wasteful, but is my life dedicated to a nobler goal? Do you know what our little terror said? She said "Mater... I think the Maker made me wrong. I suspect it so, that I'm the wickedest Kicker in the whole lineage. Because... I don't care if they mattered, I don't care about their lives... I'm glad Bright and Lance are dead. And Rightly too, though you loved him. And... I'm glad you lost your old hold. I'm glad you don't have be away from everyone."

And Midnight... I think then I know what Hurricane must have felt there, as he looked down. In the Rebellion, I could justify and hem and haw and espouse and tell everypony of some greater good... But I don't think I could simply say Yes, I'm selfish. I hate this, and you, and I'll see you undone and ash in the wind because I can't stand what your deeds represent, how you sought to undo everything because you wanted to wear a crown? I wish I can as she say I hate them... But I don't. I just... can't. And thats because I'm selfish too.

Midnight... Those papers... in my desk. Read of Hurricane, and know why we feared the Commander so. We did not fear Hurricane for his speed, though he was fast. Nor his strength, though he had that. Nor his stoic ways, nor his skill of blade, which inspired me. No, what we feared was the power we gave him, to see us undone entirely. He would not kill us for our indiscretion... no, the Commander would simply turn away, and see us no more. And it was so. None would hear us out, nor acknowledge us. And all would act as though we never were. And it was like we never had been. Had he been there, the Commander, and beheld Bright... that would have been it. One turned back, and all would have seen her no more.

And that was Hurricane's deed: our un doing. He sought our freedom by taking from us the comfort of oblivion, that we had another option then death. That cruel heartless fuck...

Read... and pray for eyes to see, and ears too hear, and humble heart and wise mind to know, for words hold power, and with such ease he laid us low that even our fall before the windigoes seemed a kindness.

Author's Note:

I should probably mention this is expanding on Chengar Quordaths The Lunar Rebellion. Go read it now, because its awesome

Comments

[Perpetually Confused]

Ok, just to clear something up... This is going to get a bit... complicated. This story focused on three characters over three arcs and a final chapter where Midnight tells the story of the Crown itself to her grandfilly's.

It will feature three or four chapters to a Pegasus named Rose, a gryphon named Virgil, and finally one or two on Hurricane himself.

[Fervidor]

Those were perhaps the first time any rational being had over made any such evaluation of my person.

That should be "This was perhaps the first time..." It kinda looks like you started on one sentence and then changed your mind in the middle of it. ("Those were perhaps the first words..." Something like that.)

Also, I get that you're doing an In Medias Res sort of thing, but in this case your Medias is perhaps a bit too In Res. Is that first sentence intended to refer to the chapter title? If so, perhaps it could have been a bit clearer. Granted, so could a lot of things here, but more on that later.

You seem to have a bit of a tendency for run-on sentences and using a lot of commas. Given the first person perspective I'm willing to assume that may be peculiarity of your narrator, but even so it often gets problematic when it comes to actually reading this. A particularly noteworthy example:

It was, in absolution, as it was so long ago, with our tribe, though I did not think so then.

This sentence is so fractured, I literally can't tell what the character is saying.

I'd say my biggest issue here is the severe lack of context. You focus very heavily on your narrator's thoughts while completely ignoring the location and situation. As such I find myself faced with an extended droning soliloquy where I have no idea who this individual is or what exactly he/she is going on about. My eyes started glazing over around the middle part since I just didn't have the context necessary to interpret it in a meaningful way. I mean, I can glean some of it from subtext, but not enough to make adequate sense of it, much less keep my attention.

It doesn't help that the language here is exceptionally purple, strangely structured almost to the point of stream of consciousness, and occasionally shifts from narration to what appears to be half of a dialogue with an unheard party. Honestly, it's more like reading some sort of blank verse poetry without a meter rather than a story. The result is immensely confusing and... I guess you must have meant it to be? I honestly can't see any other reason you'd write it this way.

Regardless, I find it very inaccessible. Not bad, exactly. Just very, very hard to get into. You clearly have a way with words, but you also aren't really using them to guide me through a comprehensible narrative.

9427499

Ok, just to clear something up... This is going to get a bit... complicated.

....It's going to get complicated?

This story focused on three characters over three arcs and a final chapter where Midnight tells the story of the Crown itself to her grandfilly's.

It will feature three or four chapters to a Pegasus named Rose, a gryphon named Virgil, and finally one or two on Hurricane himself.

See, if this is stuff you have to explain outside of the story, that's not really a good sign.

I should probably mention this is expanding on Chengar Quordaths The Lunar Rebellion. Go read it now, because its awesome

Needing to read a different story to get this one is also Not A Good Sign.

[Poke-A-Dot]

9427499
Very ambitious, keep it up!

[Poke-A-Dot]

Capitalization should be "I like Grumpy Shadow Better".

Also, writing is thick and verbose, makes it kinda hard for the reader to grasp the main details. A lot of run on sentences in this one that are hard to follow:

I've been called many a flattering, to most measures outside myself, appraisal, and much more unkind ones by far to few for my well, and far too many of that account to true for the continued comfort of my wrath and pride.

[Perpetually Confused]

9524328
If you enjoyed this, then please, do read Chengar Quordath's source material The Lunar Rebellion