• Published 29th May 2020
  • 3,499 Views, 239 Comments

The Distant Princess - GMSeskii



A purple comet appears in the sky and vanishes mysteriously. Twilight Sparkle can't handle all her unanswered questions, so she travels to the Candy Kingdom to get answers. But all is not well, for the comet heralds great change...

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IX - Ambassador Pie

Candy people are terribly designed.

The vast majority are of substandard intelligence, have awkward body shapes, and are generally unskilled at everything they attempt to do. They are not unique in this regard. Sometimes I think all the races are chronically stupid and useless.

But the candy people are also delicious. Their very being is asking predators to jump them and devour every last piece of their sugary flesh. They don’t even attempt to hide themselves, the bright colors serving as a massive bullseye!

~~~

The sun was high in the sky, the birds were chattering amongst themselves, and Pinkie Pie was humming an upbeat tune to herself. “Hmm-hm-hm-hmmm hmm-hm-hm-hm-hmmm~!” As she moved, there was no such thing as a step. She bounced everywhere, like a living pogo stick, a huge smile on her face.

Currently, she was bouncing through a small candy town on the way to the capital. As promised, every building in the town was made out of a confectionary of some sort—be it gingerbread, graham crackers, candy cane logs, or fruitcake. It was a colorful sight, to say the least, and Pinkie found it easy to convince herself that happy candy people had lived here.

Clearly, none did now. Every structure was marred with bite marks, scratches, and holes. All of these marks were relatively new, telling of a recent attack of some kind. An attack of hungry wolves, foxes, and mice.

Pinkie tried not to think about how horrifying it would be to be driven out of her home by a bunch of ravenous animals, but even she couldn’t keep her positivity up forever. The longer she stayed in the town, the smaller her smile and bounces became. Eventually, she could only maintain a nervous upward tilt of her mouth and a slight skip to her step.

The wind blew through the buildings, scattering flakes of coconut between her legs.

Pinkie stopped moving, looking at a chocolate statue of an ice cream sandwich with arms, legs, and a face. It held a hand up high in a friendly wave. It was an impressive feat of candy engineering, seeing as the chocolate wasn’t melting under the gaze of the sun, but even this beautiful artwork had not been spared the massacre. One of the arms was missing, a hole had bored in the chest, and one of the legs was about to give out.

This simply wouldn’t do, Pinkie decided. She tore a chunk of solid butterscotch off a nearby ruin and licked it all over. Using some discarded frosting, she fused the butterscotch to the weak leg, supporting the statue. “You’ll live to stand another day, mister ice cream sandwich.”

Pinkie heard clapping. Turning, she saw Marceline floating in the air a short distance away, her veiled day outfit keeping the sun off her skin. “That was really cool, Pinks.”

“Just doing what I can,” Pinkie said with a bow.

“I was waiting here to scare the living daylights out of you. Figured a ghost town might have a vibe that the spooky forest didn’t, but… well, now the mood’s wrong.”

“Oh, sorry, should I have waited to fix the statue until after?”

Marceline narrowed her eyes. “Did you know I was waiting for you?”

“Maaaaaaaybe…?” Pinkie hoofed the ground in a pathetic attempt at looking innocent.

Marceline rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to wonder if anything gets past you.”

“The Pink One’s powers of observation cannot be measured on any scale!” Pinkie giggled. Her laugh subsided quickly. “...Are they okay?”

“Who? Oh! The candy people? Yeah, Bonnie organized them to evacuate since flippin’ King of Ooo decided to recall the gumball guardians to ‘solidify his seat of power’.”

“Well that’s not very nice.”

“No. It’s not,” Marceline deadpanned.

“Hmm.” Pinkie scratched her chin. “Maybe I can talk to him about it? I am an ambassador, after all.”

“He doesn’t even listen to his advisors. The guy’s an idiot in a fancy crown.”

Pinkie twisted her head upside-down, as though her neck were rubber. “Why’s that a problem?”

Marceline opened her mouth to respond, but had no retort.

“New mission: be ambassador, and get the King to care more about his subjects! Also: use his proper title, Princess King of Ooo!” Pinkie tapped her chin. “I’m pretty sure he’s not King of Ooo though, I’ve never heard of him and I live in Ooo. He’s Princess King of the Candy Kingdom.”

“He was calling himself the King of Ooo long before he ran in the election. Guy has no claim what-so-ever. Well, aside from a bunch of morons voting him into office.”

“And this is why Equestria isn’t a democracy!”

“Oh my glob, are you seriously going to debate politics with me?”

“I’m Ambassador Pie!” Pinkie puffed out her chest and stood as tall as she could manage. “I am politics. And pastries.”

Marceline’s frown slowly turned into a grin. “You could overthrow the King if you wanted, couldn’t you?”

Pinkie lifted a hoof and tilted it side to side. “I dunno, and that’d be a little unfair. Not to mention breaking the Pinkie Promise to Twilight—things need to be smooth as butter.”

“So your plan is to go in, get the King to change, establish good diplomatic relations, and have a good time?”

“Yep!”

“This I gotta see. Count me in.”

Pinkie jumped Marceline into a hug. “Yay!”

“Whoa!” The floating vampire dropped a foot closer to the ground. “Geez, Pinks, warn me next time!”

“Hugs need no warning. They are best when given unexpectedly.” Pinkie squeezed her tighter. “Also, do you know what this means?”

“What?”

“You’re floating and carrying me.” She looked at Marceline with huge puppy eyes. “We can fly to the capital.”

Marceline frowned. “Fine. But I get to ride you on the way back.”

Pinkie nodded in agreement. “It’s only fair.”

Pony in arms, Marceline drifted away from the town and toward the pink spires of the capital in the distance. The rolling hills of grass and chocolate rivers unfolded beneath them, making Pinkie’s mouth water.

Marceline did not want her gloves to get soaked in pony saliva, so she sought to distract Pinkie. “So, do you guys let other creatures ride you all the time, or…?”

“It’s not common,” Pinkie said, thinking deeply. “Twilight has Spike—a baby dragon—ride her all the time, but they’re like siblings. Most ponies don’t like people on their backs, though we do carry a lot of stuff. Visitors always say saddles are seats, and they can work like that, but we usually use them to keep cargo on our backs. Or for fashion statements.”

“Fashion?” Marceline looked Pinkie over. “You aren’t wearing anything.”

“Well, yeah! Our coats provide all the natural protection we need, the only point for clothes at all is to make us look nicer! My friend Rarity is a seamstress, and she makes the best decorative dresses, gowns, hats, suits, you name it! I should introduce you, she’d love the opportunity to work on the bipedal form! It’s mostly quadrupeds in Equestria.”

“Making dresses for a living for people who don’t usually wear clothes…” Marceline chewed on this for a while. “Okay, I’m curious.”

“When we leave we can take you with us, go on a sight-seeing vacation!”

“Eh, maybe some other time. I need to keep an eye on Bonnie for now.”

“Ah. Say no more. Just know that Equestria’s doors are always open to you!”

Marceline let out a soft laugh. “Times really have changed, haven’t they?”

“...Huh?”

“I remember when Equestria was… very isolationist. It was you ponies against the world. Never violent, never angry, just… the few of you I met had this bizarre smug superiority about you. Especially the unicorns.”

“Oh, yeah, a lot of the nobility is still like that. Twilight has to go to Canterlot a lot, and we come with her every now and then, and hot belugian waffles are those ponies stuck up! They don’t even know how to throw a proper party! They stand around all day with idle chit-chat and fake laughter and there’s not even proper dance music!”

“And you think you could do better?”

“DUH!” She gestured at the balloons on her flank with her tail. “That’s my special talent! Throwing parties!

“You’ll have to invite me to one of those, you know.”

“I’m already thinking up the invitation designs.”

“Put those designs on hold, we’re here.”

The Candy Capital was a medium-sized city surrounded by a cake wall and a thick moat of candy syrup. Standing outside the city were massive, castle-sized golems built from a metallic body and a spherical glass head. Within the glass heads were numerous gumballs larger than a person. Pinkie quickly identified these as the previously mentioned gumball guardians. She had to agree, having all of them here to protect the capital was a bit overkill—together they were comparable in size to the city itself.

Though she did approve that all of them were wearing giant waffle cones like party hats. That was a plus.

“Stop,” one of the guardians said, voice monotone but not quite robotic. “What is your business in the Candy Capital?”

“Hi!” Pinkie waved from Marceline’s arms. “I’m Ambassador Pinkie Pie from Equestria, seeking an audience with the Princess King of Ooo!”

“You do not look like an ambassador.”

“She’s legit, guys,” Marceline said. “And if that’s not enough for you, she’s here with me. And you know I don’t mean the kingdom harm.”

“Kingdom, no. King? Perhaps.” The gumball guardian turned to the others. “What say you?”

“Marceline could get in whether we wanted her to or not,” another responded. “The fact that she is asking adds some legitimacy to the claim.”

“Very well.” The first guardian returned to the two of them. “You may enter through the front gates. The banana guards will be with you until Princess King of Ooo is ready to meet with you.”

“Thanks! You guys are the best!” Pinkie beamed.

Despite having glass for a head, the guardian somehow managed to blush. “Aww… thanks.”

Marceline and Pinkie descended to the ground at the foot of the main gates. The doors slid open, revealing a troop of banana guards. They looked just as the name implied: half-bananas with chocolate on their tips. They had arms and legs, though, and in their arms they held spears and other weapons.

“Wow, an ambassador,” one of the guards said, looking at Pinkie. “Haven’t had one from Equestria in a while!”

“I’m here now!” Pinkie said, grinning. “So… when can we see the Princess King?”

“Uh…” One of the banana guards took out a scroll and frowned. “He, uh, he’s said he’s not to be disturbed at the moment.”

“And you have no idea when he’ll meet with anyone, do you?” Marceline asked.

“Uh, no.” The banana guard rubbed the back of his peel. “But we can show you around our great city!”

“Lead the way!” Pinkie said.

Two banana guards broke off from the main group and led Pinkie and Marceline into the city. The other guards closed the gates behind them.

Pinkie took a moment to look around, and her jaw dropped all the way to the ground, embedding itself in the toffee street. This was no ghost town—this was a city. Massive buildings composed of every confectionary imaginable filled the city walls, coloring the world with a brilliant variety of hues. Pink towers of gum rose far above most of the other structures, carrying candy syrup from the central palace to the people below.

Speaking of the people, they were just as colorful as the city, if not more so. Gumballs of every shade ran through the streets, soda glasses frothing with eternal carbonation handed out newspapers, buttery wafers ran laughing through the streets, and taffy creatures held business in the bazaar.

A laughing bowl of punch ran past them. Pinkie glared at him—she didn’t trust that punch bowl, not one bit.

Returning to her absorption of the Candy Capital’s citizens, she noticed that not all of them were candy. There were a few berry people, a small green elephant, a few talking animals in suits, and various other creatures. They were in the minority, by far, but they lived in peace with the smiling, laughing candy.

The smell was the best part. Soda, cake, donuts, syrup… every sugary smell under the sun was somewhere within this capital, and Pinkie’s nose picked up on it all. For most who weren't used to the scent, the unapologetic sweetness would make them sick. But Pinkie was not most people—she lived and breathed sugar. This place might as well have been her second home.

“...Marcie,” Pinkie breathed.

“Pinks?”

“You are going to have to tell me what I can eat and what I can’t.” She licked her lips. “This place is paradise…”

Marceline grinned. “I’m taking you to the candy tavern. The King can come get us when he’s ready.”

“A soda bar… oh my…” Pinkie’s grin threatened to tear her face in half.

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