Private Gosling, now courting Princess Celestia, must learn to play a difficult and sometimes dangerous game. Gosling, known for being cool, calm, and collected under pressure, soon finds that he is in over his head. Nobles, the press, one somewhat miffed prince, plus one terrifying Night Princess who roams the castle halls at night all continue to test him and try his patience.
Princess Celestia, a seasoned veteran of the game, instead faces an internal set of challenges.
Will the two of them overcome the odds or will this budding romance end in heartbreak?
Beware of Luna… Why is it that ponies kept telling him that? Gosling came to a halt and looked around the hallway intersection. He drew in a deep breath, feeling shaken and unsettled, then continued down the hallway when he saw nothing. He was taking a little walk while Princess Celestia took a shower and freshened herself up.
The young colt was distracted, worried, and a bit tense at the moment. His mother was coming to Canterlot and she would soon find out that he was courting Princess Celestia. He wasn’t sure how his mother was going to react. Just the thought of his mother coming to Canterlot left him feeling shaky and nervous. He paused mid-step, extended a wing, and stuck his head under it, trying to check his wingpits for any signs of stinkiness.
It was a constant, almost paralysing fear. To be stinky when entertaining the company of one’s beloved monarch. He pulled his head from beneath his wing, snorted, flapped both of his wings a few times hoping to get some fresh air beneath them, and then continued down the hall.
Gosling, a colt that existed upon the very threshold of adulthood, was quite a nervous fellow at the moment. He had been staying in Princess Celestia’s private apartment due to a rather unique arrangement set up by Princess Cadance. Living in such close contact with the princess, he had to become a super equine. Perfect, unfailing manners. No belching. No farting. Somehow, he had to exist and function as if his equine body did not produce gas.
Which was why he was out having a bit of a walk while his intended showered. He gave his tail a few good shakes, flicking it from side to side, hoping that any lingering smells could be shaken out. He was dying from the pressure and tension caused by his performance.
As he continued back to Princess Celestia’s chambers, Gosling noticed that he crossed into a strange darkness. The lamps still worked, but the darkness in the hallway almost seemed oppressive. It was thick, black, and somehow oily, a living thing. The lamps produced only a small circle of light. He blinked a few times, wondering if the stress was getting to him. The lights seemed just as bright as ever, but it seemed as though the light was just being swallowed up by the night.
Private Gosling, a communications specialist from the signal corps, felt his blood run cold. Something didn’t feel right; his feathers seemed itchy. He paused, lingering in the tiny island created by the electric lamps upon the wall, and peered down the hallway. Something didn’t feel right. The darkness around him swirled like a living thing, as if the hallway had somehow become a giant lava lamp. It was unsettling to say the very least.
Shuffling his hooves, Gosling crept from one island of light to the next, shuddering as he could feel the darkness slithering over his skin. The castle was old, and old places tended to be creepy. He didn’t know why this was, but he just accepted it as one of those rules in life, one of those things that helps to explain one of life’s unfathomable mysteries. This castle was no doubt full of ageless, timeless, wandering spirits.
Gosling could not help but wonder if any of them were Princess Celestia’s former mates, and if they just so happened to be, were they watching him right now with envy? Hatred? Did they wish him well and hope for his success? The thought left him feeling unsettled, shaken, and worried. Princess Celestia was a mare that existed outside of time. She had been married, she had known love, and now, here he was, a young, inexperienced colt, trying to woo her. A part of him feared how he might be judged in comparison to the others in her past. How his shortcomings might be seen with a critical eye. The constant fear was almost paralysing. Every kiss, every caress, every loving touch would no doubt be measured against the standards set by those who had done so first or had done so best in the past. Gosling would only leave a lasting impression if he did something extraordinary, but he was inexperienced and young. Celestia would be his first, if this worked out, and so he had no hope of anything extraordinary.
It was almost too much to bear.
He crept from one patch of light to another, slinking along, alone with his thoughts in a dark, creepy hallway. Sighing, wondering what he was going to do with himself, he rounded the corner, distracted, and this was very nearly his undoing.
Before him, something hideous loomed in the darkness. Pale, bloated, something that was no longer living. Maggots writhed along the greasy looking flesh. Bald patches were visible. Rotten ears, swollen with decay, sagged from a malformed, misshapen head. Milky white eyes rolled around in swollen, puffy sockets. A shriveled tongue dangled from rotten, putrid lips puckered up for putrescent kisses, or maybe for nibbling his brain.
Faced with an undead horror, Gosling did the only thing a pony in his situation could do. He screamed. He screamed, and screamed, and for good measure, he screamed again, very nearly soiling himself in the process. There was a bright, blinding flash of light and then Gosling screamed once more, this time with feeling.
“Ooooh, that was a good one,” a low voice said, sounding as though it was almost chuckling, “and it is going into my collection!”
Realising that he was dealing with a pony, Gosling reacted in the most reasonable manner that he could muster as his heart thudded in his barrel and his bladder threatened to implode.
“You insufferable sot!” He sucked a deep breath, wheezing, trying to bring his terrified body under control. “I should box your ears!”
“Thou shalt do what?” The voice no longer held laughter or mirth, but cold imperiousness. It was the voice of absolute, unquestionable rule.
Gulping, Gosling understood at that moment that he had made a mistake. He was still blinded from the bright white flash that exploded mere seconds before. He stood, blinking, spots dancing before his eyes, and he had just threatened to box Princess Luna’s ears.
“Oooh, thou art most handsome and have such fine, chiseled features. We see why our sister fancies you.” There was a low cough and then the princess continued, “Ahem, I see why my sister fancies you.”
She was correcting herself, Gosling realised as he tried to blink away the dancing splotches in his vision. He drew in a deep breath and wondered how much trouble he was in for threatening to box a princess’ ears. Or calling her an insufferable sot.
“I shall treasure this photo,” Princess Luna said as she held it aloft. “You have such expressive features. Your face is really quite elastic and flexible. Thou art most comical in thine reactions.”
“Forgive me—”
“For what?” Princess Luna’s voice was now teasing once more. “For not saying please first before you made a request of me?”
Almost swallowing his tongue, Gosling took a stumbling, jerky step backwards and tried again. “Princess Luna, I humbly ask that you please forgive me for what I—”
“For what you said during a moment of bowel clenching, sphincter tightening terror?” Luna asked as she folded up the instant camera into its compact, more portable form. The Princess of the Night threw back her head and laughed.
As laughter echoed up and down the hallway, Gosling remembered his history lessons. At one point, Princess Luna had been the bearer of the Element of Laughter. He sucked in a deep, wheezing breath, shook his head, flapped his wings, and then tried to compose himself.
“You are wooing my sister. Because of this, I must now torment thee and make a mockery of your very existence. I know that soon, thou wilt be touching her, breathing heavily upon her neck, and with any luck, the royal nursery will soon be populated again.”
His mouth went dry and Gosling’s vision cleared enough that he could now see Luna standing before him. Her sides shook with laughter, her eyes were bright and merry. She was looking at him, her ears were erect, and there was a joyful, beautiful smile.
“It used to be that any suitor seeking to marry had to court the both of us and take both of us in marriage”—Luna paused for a moment when Gosling almost sounded as though he would begin hyperventilating and she let out a soft, almost musical giggle—“lucky for you, times have changed, mine little pony.”
Standing almost at attention, Gosling felt sweat rolling down his neck, then trickling down his front legs. His wings itched as sweat from his back dribbled down his sides and his dock began cramping.
“I like you,” Luna said to Gosling in a voice that bubbled with laughter. She took a step forwards and then continued, “I like you a great deal. You make my sister happy. I bear you no malice and you have my blessing. Come to me when thou art nervous, uncertain, or scared. Do not be shy. We are to be family, are we not?”
Gosling nodded.
“During the night, these passages are mine. Roam them at your own peril.” Princess Luna smiled, bowed her head, and then vanished. She dissolved into a cloud of perfumed, heady smoke, taking her camera and the photographic evidence of Gosling’s terror with her.
Shaking his head, Gosling now understood the constant warnings about Princess Luna. Feeling sweaty, unsettled, and out of sorts, he hurried off to return to Princess Celestia’s chambers.
Trying to control his breathing, fearful that his wingpits were now stinky, Gosling came to a halt just outside of Princess Celestia’s door. One of the two guards posted in the alcoves a short distance away saluted him. Gosling wasn’t sure what to think. So far, the guard’s reaction had been mixed. Some were supportive, others, not so much. He gave the guard a nervous grin and then knocked upon the door with his hoof.
“Yes? Who raps so gently upon my chamber door?”
Her voice. Gosling felt his back muscles tense. Her voice. A dopey grin spread over his muzzle and his terrifying encounter with Princess Luna was forgotten. How he loved her voice. Her voice was the sound of sunshine. It was warm, vibrant, full of life. It filled every inch of his being with happiness and joy.
“It is I, Private Gosling, and I ask for your permission to come inside, Princess Celestia.”
“Oh dear… to so boldly announce your intentions!”
Gosling quailed, becoming another species of bird horse altogether.
His mouth went dry as his own words echoed in his ears. He heard the guards behind him snickering. His wings went limp and drooped at his sides as his head dropped low. His ears sagged and his tail swished around his hind legs. He let out a tiny, pained, squeaky sigh that sounded as though somepony had just squeezed a rubber ducky, a fact made all the more hilarious because his cutie mark was a rubber ducky.
He heaved a dejected sigh, wondering if his night could get any worse.
“If I fail to open my doors to you, will you come battering down my gates so that you might violently plunder my treasury?” Celestia asked from the other side of the door. “Are you a handsome, foreign warlord bent on conquest?”
More snickering from the guards. Gosling took a deep breath and thought about creative ways to do himself in. Perhaps Luna could scare him to death. She had almost done so just a short while ago.
The door opened and Princess Celestia stood in the entryway, grinning, and smelling like nose tickling floral soap. Saying nothing, she grabbed Gosling in the golden glow of her magic, dragged him through the door, and then, laughing, she shut the door as she retreated into her room. “It has been far too long since I last had my treasury plundered!”
“Gosling, you look shaken.” Celestia watched as Gosling settled into a cushioned chair that was shaped like a martini glass, but low to the ground. She watched his every movement, unable to take her eyes from him. She sat herself down in a deep recess in the floor filled with pillows, easing herself down into the comfortable place like a great white bird settling into a nest.
“Princess Luna,” Gosling replied, not sure what else to say. What else could be said? He wondered if Luna showed off her collection of photographs to her sister. Of course she did, he told himself in his quiet, unspoken internal dialogue.
“Oh dear, I hope she didn’t scare you too badly. Psycho killer with a hockey mask or undead zombie?” A warm, pleasant smile spread over Celestia’s muzzle as she kept her affectionate gaze upon Gosling.
“Zombie.” Gosling folded up his front legs and settled into a pony loaf position in his peculiar shaped chair. “We talked for a bit and she gave me her blessing.” The colt coughed and then tried to say his next words with as much grace and aplomb as he could muster. “I’m guessing that you and your sister have shared a husband in the past?”
“Yes,” Celestia replied with a nod of her head. She heaved a sigh, turned, and looked over at an ornate mechanical clock. “With the passing of time, old customs and traditions fade away. But yes, there was a time when my sister and I shared everything we had. I suppose it seems sordid now and a bit—”
“Not at all,” Gosling said, making a gentle interruption with a few soft spoken words. “It is what it is.” Gosling, feeling an unmistakable tension in the air, wasn’t sure what to say and so he remained silent, hoping that the impending uncomfortable silence would be somehow banished.
“You must understand,” Celestia said to Gosling, “that I love my sister a great deal. There is much I would sacrifice for her happiness. There is a comforting familiarity in being a family together and sharing a husband. We”—Celestia’s lips formed a soft, drooping moue—“I trusted him. He had proven himself and he was a pony of strong character. I shared him with Luna in the hopes that he would ease her loneliness. He was dutiful, virtuous, and for a time, we were all happy together.”
Celestia closed her eyes and shook her head. “At least, I thought we were. But Luna’s bitterness and jealousy grew… she grew resentful.” Celestia’s voice became strained, gritty, and she continued, “When Luna stumbled… when she… she… she… Luna very much wanted to hurt me in any way she could and she did… Gosling, forgive me, I should not have brought this up, I am so sorry.”
Opening her eyes, she expected to see fear upon Gosling’s face, but she did not. Instead, she saw… understanding? She saw concern in his grey eyes. Something about his expression gave her hope. “She’s much better now. She is still finding her way and she is haunted by her past and the things she did.”
“I would imagine so,” Gosling replied, his response was kind, soft, gentle, and understanding. “I guess this explains why you are a little bit hesitant to get into a relationship.”
“My sister comes first in everything.” Celestia closed her eyes again, feeling safe, secure, and bold enough to bare her soul. “I will not make the same mistake twice. I failed her once and I shall never do it again.” Feeling the need to change the subject, Celestia coughed, took a deep breath, held it, and then said, “Your mother is coming to Canterlot. Are you worried?” She opened her eyes and awaited for Gosling’s response.
“A little, but I’m more worried about the big press release.”
Well, that was understandable. Celestia was worried about that too. There was going to be a soiree and the press would have full access. Celestia felt a tightness in her throat. So much could go wrong. Everything could go sideways. Twilight Sparkle might start dancing.
“I have all of these unreasonable fears that drive me nuts—”
Looking over at Gosling, she watched him narrow his eyes and his ears pinned back against his skull. He was adorable when he looked worried and she felt her heart fluttering against her ribs.
“—stupid fears that just about paralyse me.” Gosling’s eyes widened and he gazed upon his princess with unabashed affection. “If I confessed something that might sound silly, but was something I truly feared, would you promise not to laugh?”
“Oh my, are we at the point in our budding relationship when we confess embarrassing secrets?” After speaking, Celestia’s lips pressed into a tight, thin line. She waited for Gosling to bare his soul.
“I have this fear… almost a phobia… I mean, it scares me like you wouldn’t believe.” Gosling’s wings fluttered against his sides and his feathers ruffled, fluffing out. “I have bad dreams about it so I guess that Princess Luna already knows and if she knows, she’ll probably tell you at some point”—Gosling sucked in a deep breath with enough force that a whistling sound could be heard—“I have this fear of having stinky wingpits—”
“OH MY STARS, REALLY?” Celestia blinked in wide eyed astonishment.
“Really,” Gosling squeaked, stunned by Celestia’s reaction. “I am always checking myself and it scares me to death that I might spread my wings and have some lurking stench that I am not aware of almost kill somepony. I know it sounds silly, but I am terrified by this.”
It took Celestia a moment to realise that her sides were heaving. She licked her lips, feeling nervous, feeling excited, feeling nervecited. She of course, had her own unreasonable fear of this very thing.
“And it is made all the worse by being around you. I’ve tried so hard to be a good colt and be on my best behaviour around you. I keep my wings tucked against my sides, even when I’m feeling too hot and I can’t just open my wings because I’m afraid I’ll stink and oh my goodness you wouldn’t believe the other things I’ve been worried about and I—”
“Gosling…” Celestia’s soft word silenced the colt. “I too, worry about stinky wingpits.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Gosling’s muzzle crinkled and his eyes narrowed. “We could check one another…”
“We could!” Celestia nodded, her head bobbing with great enthusiasm. “We could totally check one another! You can’t always smell yourself when your nose stops working!”
The colt blinked as though he couldn’t believe his luck. His eyes widened, his muzzle uncrinkled as his ears perked and stood up. One ear twitched, causing his silver mane to spill down into his face. “We have so much in common,” he breathed, unable to achieve any sort of volume with his voice.
“Cadance is an amazing pony… I can only imagine that she went to Luna to learn of our secret fears so that she could match them up.” Celestia felt a catch in her throat as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to pull Gosling to her and hold him. She wanted to squeeze him—she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to nibble upon his lips and breathe the very same air, all while looking into his eyes. She wanted to see his youthful curiousity, his adoration, she wanted to look into his soul.
It was something that hadn’t happened yet. Oh, there had been a soft peck upon the cheek after the agreement to court one another, but that wasn’t a kiss. She thought about pulling him over and making a stallion out of him, but she knew that he was waiting. The waiting was terrible, but she would respect his wishes.
“You have been a perfect gentlepony this entire week,” Celestia said to her companion, “but I have to ask you something Gosling.”
“Yes?”
“When I was passed out, did you look at my goodies and dainty bits?” Celestia asked. She watched Gosling squirm and knew the answer. She smiled and felt warmth blossom through her loins.
“I tried to not look,” Gosling replied, his ears drooping, and he shook his head. “But you are so perfect, white, and beautiful.” The colt sucked in a deep breath, almost choked, and then gulped in more air. “I noticed that you have a belly button. There it was… just looking up at me. Cadance noticed me staring and she smiled at me. She said that you weren’t much different than I was. She noticed how flustered I was and thought it was funny, even though she was worried about you.”
“You were looking at my belly button?” Celestia blinked in shock and surprise. “You had a chance to look at everything and it was my belly button that caught your attention?”
The flustered young colt almost stammered in his reply, “Ask Cadance, because I said something about it to her—”
“Gosling…”
“Yes?”
“It occurs to me—”
“Yes, Princess?”
“—that I have not yet seen your belly button… fair is fair, after all…”
“Private Gosling, do sit still.” Princess Luna’s eyebrow arched in a most perfect way as she spoke and she turned her cool expression upon the colt sitting at her sister’s side. Levitating a fork, she pointed at it him, then sighed. “You must learn to relax, or at least appear to be relaxed.” Knowing the importance of appearances, Luna did her best to not look sleepy.
“I can’t help it,” Gosling said in a low voice as he remembered to sit up straight. He shook his head. “My mother will be arriving soon. She is very dear to me. I haven’t seen her in a while. She probably thinks I’ve been maimed or something in some sort of conflict, just being told to come to Canterlot without a specific reason why.”
Saying nothing, Princess Celestia lifted a teacup up to her lips, took a sip, and as she pulled the cup away, she smiled. She looked over at Gosling, who sat near her side, and then looked over at her sister Luna, to whom she gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Acknowledging her sister’s unspoken communication, Luna returned the imperceptible nod and blinked in reply. Unable to resist any longer, the Princess of the Night yawned—midmorning was just too late for her. She covered her mouth with her hoof and blinked away her sleepiness.
Leaning over the table a bit, Luna’s ears angled forwards in a somewhat aggressive manner. “You know what I could go for right about now?” Luna’s intense stare focused upon Gosling, who blinked when he realised that he was being addressed. “A pie would be a most delicious treat.”
“Sister, you are mistaken,” Celestia replied in a stern voice. “Cake is the most delicious treat that comes out of the kitchens.”
“Oh, thou art wrong, as usual.” Luna sat up and leveled her cold stare upon her sister.
“Cake is moist, delicious, and covered in creamy frosting… except when it isn’t, but even frostingless cakes are delicious.” Celestia set down her teacup on the table and her ears pitched forwards in an aggressive manner.
“A pie is far more perfect,” Luna insisted in a voice that grew in volume. “A pie can be eaten as a meal, like a savoury vegetable pie. A cake on the other hoof, one cannot eat them for dinner without accusations of gluttony, dearest sister, as I am positive that you are aware.”
Gosling sat in silence, his head turning from one sister to the other as they took turns speaking. He took a sip of tea, his brows furrowing as he did so, and he did his best to look cultured and refined—which is to say that he sat in his chair and held very, very still.
“And just what are you implying?” Celestia asked in a steely voice.
“Private Gosling,” Luna said as she ignored her sister’s stern inquiry, “do tell, Private Gosling, which is better? Cake or pie? What is your personal preference?” Luna rapped her silver shod hoof upon the edge of the table and focused her demanding stare upon the colt sitting beside her sister.
“Um—”
“Um is neither a cake nor a pie.” Luna’s voice was somehow both sleepy sounding and brusque. She leaned over the table once more and focused her intense, impatient stare upon Gosling, who shrank away from her. “Come now, as Prince Consort, you will be expected to have opinions about weighty issues. You do my sister a disservice with your lacklustre response, Private Gosling. How disappointing.”
The colt’s ears pinned back against his skull as he took in Luna’s words. He turned, giving Celestia a sidelong glance, and then he focused his grey eyes upon Luna. Reaching up a wing, he wiped his mane away from his face and felt several beads of sweat rolling down his neck.
“Oh come now!” Luna’s ears pivoted forwards and she glared daggers at Gosling. “A thousand years ago, at your age, you might have been given command of an army! You might have been trusted with the security and the safety of the empire! Colts these days are entirely too lax and wishy washy! You are too much of a foal!” Luna’s muzzle wrinkled and she looked at her sister. “Perhaps somepony a bit more mature would be better, dear sister.”
“Neither,” Gosling said to Luna in a flat, calm voice as he stared Luna in the eye.
“Neither?” Luna jerked her head back. “You were asked a question about the superiourity of pie or cake. What doest thou mean, neither? One cannot simply abstain from the issue. Do explain yourself, colt.”
“Pie is nice, cake is a fine treat, but I champion the cause of the cookie.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed and he worked up his courage to give Luna a hard, focused stare. “Cookies are the perfect treat. You don’t need a plate or a fork to eat them, you can eat more than one without accusations of gluttony, and cookies can be dunked in a glass of milk. Try doing that with a pie or a cake.”
“Haha… HAHA!” Luna thumped the table with her hoof and looked at her sister. “I told you, dearest sister, I TOLD YOU!”
“Uh, what is going on?” Gosling asked, looking more than just a little confused by everything around him and Luna’s boisterous, exuberant reaction. He heard a soft, melodious giggle from Celestia and his ears stood up. His wings felt hot and itchy against his ribs.
“A little test,” Celestia replied as she raised her teacup. “And it seems that my sister was right about you. She insisted that you would find a way of wiggling out of taking sides. This bodes well for your future, Gosling.”
“A test—”
“Private Gosling, everything will become a test.” Luna’s mirth vanished with a single blink and her expression became one of hard, unyielding flintiness. “You will be judged upon your every word, your every action, every single thing you do will be picked apart and discussed at length.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.” Luna nodded. “Have so much as one feather out of place and there are those that will rip you apart. You will go under intense scrutiny. Nothing will go unnoticed. Welcome to our world, Private Gosling. We are the sisters that can do no right.”
Leaning over, Celestia prodded Gosling with her hoof. “When I first learned of your age, I worried that you would not be mature enough to deal with the coming onslaught. During the past week though, you have shown a remarkable maturity that many who are your age are lacking. Too many foals are coddled for far too long and foalhood artificially extends into what should be years counted as an adult.”
Gosling blinked, then turned his head to look at Celestia. “I suppose it is my upbringing. My mother and I were poor. I didn’t have time to waste as a foal. Too much was expected of me. I wasn’t coddled. I got my first job when I was the age of ten, I delivered groceries and dry goods for a specialty shop. Then there was homework to be done.” Gosling paused for a moment, shook his head, and then stared down at his own teacup. “I suppose I am not like most colts my age. My mother worked so very hard to give me a set of values…”
“I first balked at your age because I did not wish to take away whatever last bit of foalhood you had left in you. The guard does a pretty good job of drumming that out though for those who join early.” Celestia reached over and stroked Gosling’s foreleg with her hoof. “But”—Celestia reached up with her hoof and tapped Gosling upon the chin—“I do not regret my decision to be with you.”
Gosling’s stormcloud grey cheeks darkened as he turned to look at Celestia. He gazed at her, amazed at her beauty, her grace, her wise, expressive face. Raising his own foreleg, he extended it and grasped Celestia’s with his folded fetlock. He gave her a squeeze, started to say something, but then fell silent as he continued to stare into her eyes. He sucked in a deep breath when Celestia’s muzzle moved closer to his, but he did not turn away or pull his head back.
“I am going to bed,” Princess Luna announced to the moony eyed couple, “good day to both of you.”
There was a cool, feather ruffling breeze blowing through the gardens. Gardeners worked to maintain the hedges, the ponds were being mucked out, and the sounds of distant voices could be heard as Celestia stood gazing at a perfect display of rhododendrons.
Nearby, Cadance stood, her head low, sniffing the blooms of the rhododendron bushes. Celestia gushed with affection for her niece, after all, Cadance was the one responsible for bringing so much happiness into her life. She wanted to tackle Cadance, to hug her, to roll with her in the grass, to laugh and be happy. Celestia was tempted, so very tempted.
“Ah, just the pony I was hoping to see.”
Hearing the sound of Raven’s voice, Celestia turned to look at her most trusted assistant. She watched as Raven approached Gosling and Celestia could see that her tiny, treasured assistant meant business. She wondered what was up.
“Private Gosling,” Raven said in a flat, commanding voice, “I have appropriated you from your current posting. From now on, you will be working with Princess Celestia and I—”
“Wait up,” Gosling said, butting in with a gentle voice and shaking his head, “now, I said that I would not allow any special treatment just because I was courting the princess… I don’t want preferential treatment as a guardspony. I feel guilty just getting a week off.”
“Private Gosling… I will allow this lapse in command just once,” Raven said, her voice growing commanding and cold, “and only this once.” Raven took a step forwards, then another, and then another, until she stood snoot to snoot with Gosling. “Now you listen to me, Private Milksop… you are a member of the signal corps. You are a communications specialist, which means you are a messenger. When I say that you will be working with Princess Celestia and I, what I actually mean to say is that you will be working for me.” Raven paused for a moment to allow her words to sink in.
“And make no mistake, it is my intention to work you. I need a messenger. I need a swift, capable flier to deal with sensitive communications. You are not being given preferential treatment at all, you are being given one of the worst jobs that anypony in the guard can get. Welcome to being my assistant, Private Gosling, you now work for the Day Terror.”
Snapping to attention, Gosling whipped out a wing in salute.
“As soon as you return to active duty, you will be reporting to me every morning bright and early. If there is sunlight streaming through the windows, then there is work to be done. Am I clear?” Raven reached out and poked Gosling on the chest with her hoof.
“Ma’am, yes Ma’am!”
“Ooh, delightful,” Cadance said as she turned around. “Private Gosling, this means I’ll be seeing you in the Crystal Empire. Raven and Shining Armor play chess through the mail. Auntie and I also send each other a lot of messages to keep each other’s spirits up.”
Gosling gulped and continued to stand at attention, staring straight ahead.
“Raven, darling, do be gentle,” Celestia said to her assistant.
Raven turned and looked up at Princess Celestia. “No.”
“No?” Celestia drew herself up to her full height. “No?”
“Being gentle doesn’t get anything done.” Raven shook her head. “It is not efficient. It does not make the empire run.”
“Raven, dear, I really must insist. I would like to have something left of Private Gosling at the end of the day. If you exhaust him, what am I to do?” Celestia strained to keep the corners of her mouth from betraying her, but try as she might, the corners of her lips twitched.
“Hmph.” Raven took a step back from Gosling, tossed her head back, turned around to face Celestia, and then let out an irritated whinny.
Gosling, who understood that his fate was held by a thread, said nothing, did nothing, he remained statuesque and stared straight ahead in a perfect state of attention. He did not see the corners of Celestia’s mouth twitching, nor did he see Cadance grinning.
“Private Gosling’s mother is scheduled to arrive at just a little past three. I have had arrangements made to have her transported to the castle in private. I have taken the liberty of having a small, private room prepared for the occasion, and a well appointed private suite is ready for her stay.”
“Very good, thank you, Raven,” Celestia replied. She clucked her tongue a few times, shuffled on her hooves, and then her ears splayed out sideways. “I must confess, I am nervous.”
“By all reports, Sleet is a likeable pegasus, hopefully she’ll be reasonable and find you worthy of her son,” Raven said, ignoring Gosling, who cleared his throat. She did glance over at Cadance however, when she heard Cadance giggling. “She is a very proud pegasus though, keep that in mind.”
“Thank you, Raven. You are dismissed.” Celestia’s ears drooped down even more and she shook her head. The tall mare sighed, shook her head, and glanced at Gosling, who still stood at attention.
Bowing her head in reply, Raven then departed in a hurry.
“Auntie, relax… a mother wants what is best for her foal… and all things considered, you can’t get much better than a princess.” Cadance cleared her throat and fought back more giggles. “And Gosling found himself quite a princess… the big one. The ugly duckling found his swan princess.”
Hearing her niece’s words, Celestia found herself smiling. “Cadance… what was it like when you met with Twilight Velvet, not as Twilight’s foalsitter, but as Shining Armor’s intended?” Celestia asked as she moved closer to Gosling. “I would be interested in knowing.”
“Oh… that.” Cadance smacked her lips together and her wings made nervous twitches against her sides. Cadance shuffled on her hooves and her eyes went wide. “Oh… that’s quite a story. I’ve never been more terrified in my whole life. Twilight Velvet wanted the very best for her foals… even when I faced Prismia, I wasn’t as scared as I was on the day that Shiny and I told her about our engagement to be engaged...”
Sleet was as white as her namesake. She was still young, but worry and concern had left her with a worn, wizened expression upon her face. Watching, waiting in a patient manner, Princess Celestia, for now she was required to be Princess Celestia, stood nearby while Sleet looked her colt over, nosed him, and touched him with her wings.
“Too thin,” she grumbled as she ran the front edge of her wing along Gosling’s neck. Sleet shook her head. “You’ve gotten taller.” The maternal white pegasus took a step back from her son, turned her head, and looked over at Princess Celestia. “What’s with her?” Sleet leaned her head over and whispered into Gosling’s ear.
Taking a deep breath, Gosling started to reply but failed. He stood staring at his mother, then at Princess Celestia, and then he looked around the small, cosy room they were standing in. He had no idea what to say to his mother in this instance.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Sleet asked as she lifted her head. A fierce gleam overtook her eyes as she glanced at her son. “Did you behave like a horseshoe head? Gosling, answer me! What have I told you about fighting? Didn’t I tell you to be good?”
“Perhaps it would be best if you sat down,” Princess Celestia suggested as she extended a wing and gestured at a small but comfortable sofa whose size was just right for little ponies.
“Perhaps it would be best if I knew what was going on,” Sleet replied, giving a bold glare to Princess Celestia. “The guard may have claimed my son, and they may have his body, but his heart is still mine. Don’t forget that.”
Blinking, Princess Celestia drew herself up to her full height. She stood there, surprised by Sleet’s boldness, and she could see where Gosling himself must have got his courage. She began to get the idea that Sleet would be the sort of fearless mother that would pick a fight with a manticore if the situation demanded it.
“Mother, everything is fine—”
“Liar, you keep calling me Mother—”
“I’m too old to call you ‘Mommy’ and saying ‘Mama’ doesn’t feel right in front of Princess Celestia.” Gosling gave his mother a pleading glare and shook his head. “Look, this is really hard as it is and you are making it more difficult than it needs to be.”
Sleet took a step back from her son, inhaled, puffed out her barrel, fluffed out her wings, and then gave her son The Look. Gosling cringed away from his mother and glanced over at the other mare in the room, his eyes pleading for help.
“Sleet, if I might have a moment—”
The puffed out pegasus mare turned her baleful gaze upon the much larger alicorn.
“—of your time so that I might share with you some good news.” Princess Celestia took a deep, calming breath. “Your son has declared his intentions for me. We are courting and if all goes well, your son will become my royal consort.”
Sleet’s ears pinned back against her head, but she remained stiff legged and puffed out. She blinked a few times, processing Princess Celestia’s words, and after several slow blinks, she turned her head and looked over at her son. Seeing Gosling’s hopeful smile, she deflated, her lips flapping and making a flatulent sound.
“I must say, Sleet, your son has impressed me,” Princess Celestia said, trying flattery to appease Gosling’s mother.
“Well of course he did,” Sleet replied, “I raised him right.” She whirled and faced her son. “Stand up straight! Don’t slouch! Stop making me look bad!” She reached out and poked her son with her wing. “Stop making her look bad!”
Gosling snapped to attention and Princess Celestia let out a low titter that she could not hold in. As the princess stood there watching, Sleet darted forwards and kissed her son upon the cheek.
“You did good… told you that you could do better than that silly filly that did you wrong. This is what you are worthy of, Gosling. You’ve made me proud. I kept telling you that you were meant for something greater.” Overcome with maternal affection, Sleet headbutted her son, a sweet, affectionate conking of the skulls, and sent him staggering.
Princess Celestia did not need Cadance to know that there was love here. Sleet, a brash, feisty little mare, loved her son, wholly and without reservation. It was the sort of love that reaffirmed Celestia’s faith in the world, the good wholesome love that made the world a better place. She basked in it, watching as Sleet rubbed her cheek against her son’s neck, nuzzling him, all while making little happy wickers and snorts.
Emboldened, she stepped forwards, intent to get her share of the affection. She lowered her head, came closer, and then much to her surprise, even though she was expecting it, Sleet turned her maternal affection upon her. The little pegasus mare had no reservations, no fear, no worries about Celestia being a princess; she withheld nothing. Closing her eyes, Celestia allowed her tense muscles to relax as she felt Sleet’s muzzle brushing up against her own. It had been a long time since she had experienced anything like this from one of her little ponies.
The touch was reassuring, it was life affirming, the feeling of acceptance when one is welcomed into a familial herd. Celestia wickered, then whinnied, overcome with a flood of emotions. It was clear that she had Sleet’s approval. She felt a gentle, familiar yet almost forgotten warmth blossoming in her barrel. She had Cadance’s affection, Shining Armor’s as well, she had Twilight, she had those that loved her, but somehow, this was different. She couldn’t say why or how, but it was. Something about this was… maternal. Love without reservation.
Had she been isolated for so long that these feelings had become strange?
Knees wobbling, Celestia’s hindquarters fell to the floor with a muffled whump. She sniffled a few times, determined to hold back the stinging tears she felt, then gave both Sleet and Gosling her best, bravest smile. She was fine until Sleet pulled her closer and then Celestia felt her barrel hitching. There was an awkward moment while one very small pony tried to comfort a much larger pony, size tried to come between them, but Sleet was one determined mare who never turned away from a challenge.
Sleet got one foreleg around Celestia’s neck and then squeezed; that was how you got the hurt out. You squeezed it away. You hugged, rubbed, kneaded, squeezed, or, if necessary, headconked the hurt away. It was the pegasus way since time immemorial.
“I became so lonely and Gosling has been very good to me,” Celestia confessed as she sobbed. “I went to my niece Cadance for help and she brought me Gosling.”
“There there,” Sleet replied in a soothing voice, “let the poison out.”
Gosling, who was quiet, sat with the two most important mares in his life, not quite knowing what to do, but knowing that it was important that he was there. It was expected of him. He had learned that Celestia had the same needs as any other pony, the same feelings, the same wants and desires. She bled, she hurt, and she had the same fear of stinky wingpits that he did. She was a pony, a fact forgotten by many.
And being as old as she was, she had no mother. Oh, she had a mother, that much was certain, Celestia had a belly button, but Celestia’s mother was no longer around. Gosling’s mother would mother anything she could get her hooves on, including it seemed, alicorns overcome with emotions.
“I’ve become so attached to him already… he makes me happy… he painted a sunset for me…” Barrel hitching, Celestia began to blubber.
Gosling saw his mother glance at him, a momentary stare so intense that it took his breath away. He wasn’t sure what she was communicating, but he knew that he would hear about it later. Right now, there were other things to worry about.
Celestia held back her sobs long enough to say, “I don’t know what has come over me.”
“She’s been emotional lately,” Gosling said to his mother.
“I would imagine that it is a big, heart wrenching decision for her, choosing to love again,” Sleet replied. Extending her wing, Sleet nudged her son, encouraging him to get closer.
Something of a three way hug happened, a very intimate moment indeed, and Celestia found that her guard was no longer needed. She was surrounded by those that cared for her, she felt safe, secure, warm, and even with the tears, she was happy. She found that she could let go. She discovered that she could let it all out.
And so, she did.
Gosling watched as his mother prepared tea. She had the most dextrous wings, she had a fine precision and control that could match most unicorns with their telekinesis. Serving tea had been one of her many jobs during her lifetime and it was something she could now do without even thinking about it.
Across the table from him, Celestia sat, red eyed, but smiling. He was worried for her, and his was a quiet, reserved worry. Saying nothing, he extended a wing and stroked the side of Celestia’s neck, still feeling a nagging sense of worry about if he was allowed to touch her. She looked up at his touch, her eyes brightened, and her ears stood straight.
Smiling, Gosling gave her a reassuring nod.
“The way I see it, you and I have a lot in common,” Sleet said to Celestia as she began setting the table. “I’ve been giving it some thought, I have, and you and I are on the same cloud.”
“I’m sorry, Sleet, I do not follow.” Celestia shook her head and one eyebrow arched in confusion. She snatched up a cookie when the plate was set down upon the table and stuffed the whole thing into her mouth, not even bothering to see what sort of cookie it was.
“We’re single mothers,” Sleet said as if this explained everything. She paused and looked at Celestia, who had a blank expression while she chewed her carrot and craisin cookie. “You don’t see it, do you?”
Slow to respond, Celestia shook her head again.
“You and I, we’re single mothers. We worry, we fret, we keep late nights worrying about what we love. I have Gosling… you… you have all of Equestria. We don’t trust anypony else to do our job. We have foals to rear… and no hope of competent help. It is a task we carry upon our own withers because we know it has to be done and done right.”
With a series of deft, swift movements, Sleet set a steaming teapot down upon the table, along with cups and saucers. A sugar bowl followed, then a small silver cream pitcher, some spoons, and then a plate of little cakes.
Sleet turned her hardened stare upon her son. “She’s trusting you with her foals. Don’t mess this up.” Sleet poked her son with her wing. “Don’t mess this up. I mean it. So help me, after all of the hard work and the tears I shed to raise you right, you had better not mess this up. She is asking you to help her care for her foals… what she loves… the very reason why she exists.” Sleet blinked and then wiped her own eyes. “That’s why I never married. I couldn’t find anypony that I trusted enough to do the job of raising you. I just did it myself because I wanted it done right.” The maternal pegasus began to sniffle and she turned away from the table as she let out a powerful snort.
“I think I understand,” Celestia said to Sleet.
“We get so wrapped up in our job… we insist on doing it right, and so we end up doing it alone,” Sleet said in a strained voice as she kept her back to her son. She sniffled a few times as her ears bobbed up and down.
“Mama, I—”
“Don’t mess this up!”
Gosling’s ears went limp against his face. “Yes, Mama, I’ll do right.”
“I know you will,” Sleet replied, “because I raised you right.”
Eyes darting from colt to mare, then back to the colt that she felt a growing affection for, Celestia picked up another cookie and stuffed the whole thing into her mouth. She watched as Sleet turned around and she saw that Sleet’s ice blue eyes glimmered with tears.
“Mother, there is much we need to discuss,” Gosling said to Sleet as he gestured for her to sit down beside him. “There is much to sort out—”
“Like what?” Sleet asked, glad for a change of subject. She climbed into the ornate wooden chair, sat down, and got settled.
“Well, what to do with you, for one thing,” Gosling replied, “When we announce our relationship, there is going to be a storm of epic proportions. I don’t want you hounded by the press. I want you safe and left in peace. You’re going to have some guards assigned to you—”
“What?” Sleet blinked and shook her head.
“I have a better idea.” Celestia licked the cookie crumbs from her muzzle. “Why don’t you come here and stay with us?”
“Well, I don’t know…”
“Mother, you aren’t working, I send home my pay so you don’t have to. There is nothing keeping you in that tiny, cramped apartment.”
“Gosling, darling, I have a confession, I’ve taken up a part time job—”
“Mother!”
“I got bored,” Sleet said, trying to appease her son.
Gosling bristled, his ears quivered, and his eyes narrowed as he simmered with anger. “Look, I work hard so you don’t have to. After everything you’ve done for me it is the least I can do… and you found a part time job? Mother… I… don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“I got bored, my little ugly duckling,” Sleet said in apologetic tones.
Rolling his eyes, Gosling shook his head while he gasped in exasperation.
“Sleet, come and stay with us. I’ll help you find meaningful work in the castle, a way to pass the time, but nothing too strenuous so that Gosling can perform his duties without worry or a troubled mind.”
“But she’s done so much already… I want—”
“You want your mother to die of boredom?” Celestia asked.
Snorting in defeat, Gosling slumped over in his chair and gave his mother a sullen stare as he folded his forelegs over his barrel. “No.” He snorted again. “No, I don’t want her to be bored. I just want her to have a pleasant, easy life. She’s earned it.”
“Sleet, come and stay with us, please… I would so like a chance to get to know you.” Celestia’s voice was patient, kind, and pleading.
“Well, I am bored and a bit lonesome at home. If I’m not working, I’m checking the mailbox and hoping that I’ve got mail from Gossy.”
Hearing his nickname, Gosling cringed with embarrassment.
“I suppose I’ll come and stay,” Sleet said, “the both of you need somepony to look after you. Gosling is going to need my help and you”—Sleet pointed at Celestia with her hoof—“you still need to be sorted out. We understand each other and I can help you.”
Gosling gulped, looked at his mother, then at Celestia, and felt a few beads of sweat go rolling down his neck. His stomach lurched and he felt his throat tighten. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his mother being here. She was bound to be… helpful.
Standing in the middle of the room, Gosling looked at his mother’s new apartment. It was in the castle, but not in the castle. It was in the gatehouse, where several apartments were located for dignitaries, diplomats, and other high ranking VIPs. It was small, but well appointed, furnished, had a window that opened into the castle courtyard, and was downright opulent compared to their old apartment.
He felt his mother brush up against his side and then felt tingles running down his spine as she stroked his jaw with her muzzle. In private, she was a different pony and he hoped that Princess Celestia would see this. When the world was looking, Sleet was a tough, no nonsense, take no prisoners sort of pegasus. In private, she was quiet, reserved, and loving.
The fact that he was in love with a mare that wore a public mask did not escape him. As his mother lavished affection upon him, Gosling let out a contented wicker, glad to have his mother with him. He had missed her something awful.
“My little colt has grown up—”
“Ma…”
“My little colt has grown up and he’s become a stallion. A good one. He’s made me very proud—”
“Ma, please…”
“Gossy…”
“Ma, don’t call me that in front of the princess.”
“Gossy, I never felt that having you was a mistake. I was given a challenge, I was. So I doubled down and I dared to dream with you. There are lots of single mothers and they just get by. But with you… I tried to give you a sense of culture. I made sure that you were exposed to all of the right things. Music, art, the theatre, I worked twice as hard as I needed to just so you could have a sense of refinement—”
“Ma…”
“It’s paid off, Gossy. All of the crying, all of the hard work, all of the worry, all those sleepless nights.” Sleet began to sniffle. “Every mother wants to know that her work pays off. Every mother wants to know that all those hours of labour was worth it—”
Gosling rolled his eyes as his mother continued to nuzzle him. “Ma!”
“Those little wings of yours. You stuck them out and the doctor didn’t think you’d ever come out into the world. You caused me so much trouble, Gossy—”
“Ma… please, I don’t want to hear about being born again.”
“Gossy, I never approved of your secondary school sweetheart…”
“I know, Ma, I know. I heard about it every day.”
“But I do approve of your new sweetheart.” Sleet’s voice cracked with emotion.
“I’m glad you approve, Ma.”
“Hear me out, my little ugly duckling.”
Gosling waited. He also angled his head and nosed his mother’s muzzle with his own.
Sleet took a deep breath. “You, you are going to be a good father. She is going to bring out the best in you. Because of her, you are going to be the very best little pegasus that you can be, I just know it.”
When his mother paused, Gosling became aware that he could hear a mechanical clock ticking somewhere. He did not look to see where it was. He was too focused upon his mother. He was looking down at her, and she was looking up at him, and he could see his own reflection in her blue eyes.
“A mother has a special duty, Gossy—”
“Ma, your list of special duties grows by the day—”
“Gossy, you hush your mouth and you listen to me!”
“Yeah, Ma, sorry Ma.” Gosling rolled his eyes again and felt a soft kick against his front leg. He tried not to smile, knowing that would only earn him another kick and his mother would begin fussing. He would never hear the end of it now that she was here.
“A mother has a special, sacred duty, Gossy,” Sleet said, trying again, “she has to train her colt how to treat little fillies and later how to treat mares in the way that she herself wants to be treated. It’s a tricky thing, Gosling. I tried to give you respect for females. A sense of values. I tried to make you see that females were something to be treasured, respected, loved, and cherished. I wanted to make sure that you would never become like your father. Or any of the other rotten males that you hear about. I never wanted you to be a hitter, or a love ‘em and leave ‘em type. I wanted you to be a stallion’s stallion. A gentlepony. And this is why I know you’ll do just fine as a husband and a father, Gossy.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Gosling felt a tingle go through his spine and his wings as he gave his mother a kiss on her nose.
“Now, my job is done,” Sleet said as she began to sniffle.
“Ma?” Gosling extended a wing and wrapped it over his mother’s back.
“My job is done and it is time for me to step aside so I don’t get in the way—”
“Ma, what are you sayin’, Mama?”
“My little colt has grown up.” Sleet shuddered and gave her son her bravest smile, but her lips quivered and her blue eyes shimmered with tears. “I’m gonna be right here by your side every step of the way, but you are no longer my little colt. You’re going to be her stallion. You’re going to be a father. You’re going to be a husband. And to be those things, you can’t be my colt anymore. I have to give you to her… and as for you and I… while you will always be my son, our relationship has to change—”
“Mama?”
“—and we have to deal with one another not as a mother and her little colt, but as a mother and her grown son. We have to deal with each other as adults now, Gossy… Gosling. I’m so proud of you.” As Sleet spoke, tears trickled down her cheeks and spilled down to the floor.
“I’m going to have to speak to the maid, it’s dusty in here,” Gosling said as he blinked his eyes and sniffled.
“Gosling?”
“Yeah, Ma?” Gosling felt a tickle in his throat as he both listened to and watched his mother crying.
“I don’t want to sound awful, but there is one thing I ask for in return for all of the work I’ve done,” Sleet said to her son.
“For you, Ma, anything,” Gosling replied.
“Gosling, I’d like a little grandfoal… it could be a little filly or a colt, I’m not picky, and I’m okay if it turns out like you, I don’t mind another little ugly duckling, and I want to see if I can do a better job the second time around. Because, let’s face it, while you’re almost perfect, there’s room left for improvement—”
“Ma…” Gosling let out a snort, rolled his eyes, and shook his head, which caused his ears to flap around.
“Are you ready for dinner? Are you nervous? How are you dealing with the pressure?”
“I’m fine, Ma.” Gosling wrapped his wing a little tighter around his mother, gave her a squeeze, and pulled her closer. He gave her an affectionate skull bonk, then stepped away from her while smiling. “You need to get cleaned up and so do I. I’ll see you at dinner, Ma.”
“Okay, Gossy,” Sleet replied. She blinked a few times, her blue eyes still moistened with tears, and gave her son a toothy smile. “I’m so proud of you… so, so proud.”
There was no sign of his mother anywhere. Gosling allowed himself to be escorted through the dining room and he was seated beside Princess Celestia. The table was large and round. Raven was there, and he saw her smiling at him, so he smiled back. Luna was absent, no doubt asleep.
The table was set to perfection. The napkins had been folded into swans. There was silverware out, actual silverware, made from silver, and it had all been polished to a mirror finish. There were water glasses, wine glasses, soup spoons, dessert spoons, dinner forks, salad forks, it was easy to be overwhelmed. As Gosling made himself comfortable, he ignored the table. It was too easy to get worked up by all of the complexity.
A unicorn was escorted through the room, he looked cross, tense, and a bit out of sorts. He paused beside the table, bowed his head, and said, “Auntie,” as he looked at Celestia.
“Nephew,” Celestia replied.
The princess turned to face Gosling and made a gesture to the unicorn that had spoken to her. “Gosling, this is Prince Blueblood.” She turned and looked at the unicorn who was now sitting down. “Prince Blueblood, this is Gosling.”
“Yes, I know, I have been briefed,” Blueblood said as he made a dismissive gesture with his hoof. “Private Gosling, communications specialist, valued member of the signal corps, intelligent, and hopeful officer material.” Blueblood adjusted his silverware, freeing them from some imagined imperfection in how they were set, and turned his gaze upon Gosling. “I don’t care that you are courting my aunt. I do care that you are potential officer material. Do you have a sense of duty, Private Gosling?”
“Blueblood, dearest, no talking shop during dinner,” Celestia said to her nephew.
Scowling, Blueblood let out a snort. “It is not yet dinner time, Auntie.”
“Gosling, Blueblood is one of the unofficial heads of the signal corps. He takes his job with a seriousness that does him credit. He deals in… intelligence.”
“I see,” Gosling replied as he looked at Celestia. “Any other unofficial heads that I should know about?”
“Raven.” Celestia looked over at her assistant, glanced at Blueblood, and then returned her attention to Gosling. “She heads communications. Blueblood deals in intelligence and information. Gosling… darling, you are going to find that the signal corps is far more than it first appears to be.”
“Espionage?” Gosling’s eyebrow raised.
“Well of course,” Raven said in a far more relaxed voice than she had earlier. “The signal corps is like—”
“The brain and the central nervous system of our fine Empire,” Blueblood said, interrupting Raven. “The eyes, ears, all six known senses.”
“I see.” Gosling felt a faint prickle in his dock and he fought the urge to squirm in his seat. “So, uh, just who is the, uh, high commander? I mean, who is in charge of everything? The pony really in charge?”
“You’re sitting next to her,” Celestia replied. “But don’t worry. She’s not wholly active anymore. Blueblood and Raven do a very good job of keeping everything running smoothly.” There was a long pause, a bit of a giggle, and then Celestia continued, “Though lately, I have been wondering if we need an unofficial liaison to the Crystal Empire—”
“Yes we do!” both Raven and Blueblood said in unison. The pair looked at each other, Blueblood let out a little cough, and Raven began to clean her glasses. It was Blueblood who faced Celestia.
“Things have changed, Auntie. With our annexation of the Crystal Empire, there are now two seats of power. We are spread thin. While Canterlot is mostly secure, the Crystal Empire is not. We need more resources. We have more and more agitators and dissidents with each passing day. There are those who feel the monarchy is outdated and out of touch. Plus, we have ponies like Starlight Glimmer who seek to undermine your authority—”
“Starlight Glimmer was made to see reason and has since turned over a new leaf,” Celestia said to her nephew.
“I do not trust her,” Blueblood retorted, his nostrils flaring and his ears perking to attention. “Her ‘equality’ movement still has followers… misguided miscreants and malcontents who wish to see your power and authority stripped away.”
“More than that, there are those who feel that Starlight was brought under control through magical means, an obedience spell or magical compulsion. There are reports of those who wish to free her from her enforced compliance.” Raven slid her glasses back on and peered at Celestia. “She’s become something of a martyr for the cause. Far too many believe that she did not willingly face reformation, but was coerced.”
“Oh bother,” Celestia said in a low, worried voice. “I take a week off, come back, and hear this.” A scowl appeared upon her muzzle. “This is why I am loathe to talk shop at dinner.”
“Ahem,” an earth pony said as he poked his head through the door. “Sleet has arrived.”
“Fantastic, I’m dying of hunger,” Blueblood replied.
“Dinner will be served in just a few moments,” the earth pony said as he began escorting Sleet through the room.
“Sorry I was late,” Sleet said in apologetic tones, “I needed a little extra time to compose myself…”
Making careful, precise movements, Gosling used his wing to manipulate his soup spoon. He was more than a little nervous. The unicorns (and the alicorn) at the table spent no effort to feed themselves, but being a pegasus made using a soup spoon perilous.
“Sleet…”
Lifting his head, Gosling watched as Celestia addressed his mother. He nibbled on a potato he fished out of his soup bowl and waited for his mother’s reply. Blueblood seemed lost in his own little world, saying nothing, while Raven watched every move he made.
“Yes?” Sleet wiped her face with a napkin as she spoke.
“You call Gosling your ugly little duckling,” Celestia said, speaking each word with slow caution.
“And you are wondering why he is called Gosling and not Cygnus?” Sleet smiled and her eyes glittered as she withheld her laughter.
“Why, yes, actually.” Celestia leaned over her soup bowl a bit.
“I didn’t know the difference.” Sleet began to chortle and one ear twitched. “It makes him all the more special to me. Stars as my witness, I thought little swans were called ‘goslings.’ When I found out the difference, it was too late. He was a yearling. Turns out, I was the silly goose.”
Hunched over his soup bowl, Blueblood began snickering and almost dropped his spoon. Celestia eyed her nephew, a surprised expression upon her face, and Raven began chortling as she tried to swallow some soup. She almost choked.
Gosling, who always thought this was funny, laughed a little. He looked at his mother, then at Celestia, still worrying about if they would get along. Celestia seemed amused. He lifted his head, coughed, and then said, “When I was a foal, I knew I was in trouble when my mother said to me, ‘Gosling, your goose is cooked!’”
Abandoning her best manners, Celestia began giggle-snorting. Blueblood looked at his aunt, his eyes wide with surprise, and the Princess of the Sun was forced to set down her spoon as she tried to compose herself. Raven’s chortles became all out giggles. Sleet laughed, a musical, happy sound, and then Celestia let go with a booming laugh that filled the dining room.
“So, I have to know, how did Gosling get his cutie mark?” Raven asked.
“It was impossible to keep him out of the bathtub,” Sleet replied. “Just keeping him out of the water, oy vey, what a chore! I couldn’t turn my back for a second. Thankfully he has that fine, water shedding pelt that some of us pegasi get, you know, the sleek, silky pelt that water just doesn’t stick to. We should all be so lucky… eh. He taught himself to swim.” Sleet took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and laughed for several long moments. When she opened her eyes again, they were bright and merry. “One evening, when I was worn out, I fell asleep on the sofa. The little stinker, he goes into the bathroom and he pours the entire bottle of bubble bath into the tub… bubbles everywhere! He floods the bathroom ‘cause he can’t see the water level in the tub. And he’s in there, swimming in the tub, and I wake up to his splashing.”
At this point, Celestia’s sides were heaving, but she withheld her laughter so she could keep listening. Gosling felt his cheeks growing warm. Raven was grinning like a cat finding a canary in a cage. Blueblood sat smirking.
“He was still a yearling… you know, that phase in life when they’re so cute they can get away with anything and their mothers can’t kill them for being little pains in the tuchus.” Sleet’s eyes darted over to her son, lingered there for a moment, and then she looked at Celestia. “I’m worn out, been on my hooves all day, and he’s in the tub with bubbles everywhere going ‘quack quack quack’ while the water is still running. Oy, what’s a mother to do?”
Gosling’s ears drooped as he gave his tablemates an embarrassed grin.
“So I go into the bathroom to start scrubbing him, at least his tiny little tuchus can be clean, you know? You know how little colts can be… so much enthusiasm… hey Mommy, listen to this! And then the little stinker toots his own horn!” Sleet waved with her hoof at Gosling as if she was trying to fan away stink and rolled her eyes. “Foals, such trouble! But we keep having them for some reason. You’d think we’d’ve learned by now, but no!”
Celestia brayed with laughter and her eyes were squeezed shut. A tear rolled down her cheek and made it down to her jawline before being absorbed into her pelt. Blueblood was shaking and biting his lip. Raven had a look of almost sadistic glee upon her face as she listened.
“So I go in there to clean him up and I find this little rubber ducky on his backside. There it was. As a mother, I was relieved. He had his mark! He was too happy to even notice and he quacked while I scrubbed his cute little tuchus.” Sleet sighed and wiped her eyes with her foreleg. “The landlord had to help clean up all the water and I was schvitzing because I think he’s going to be angry, but he understands and he’s very nice about it.”
“Forgive me for being so blunt,” Blueblood said as his aunt tried to get herself back under control, “but you don’t just come from the pegasi tribe, but you come from the first pegasi tribe. I can’t help but notice.”
“Yes, we come from the First Tribes,” Sleet replied, now looking a bit nervous as she looked at Blueblood.
Celestia went silent, Raven went still, and Gosling looked at Blueblood with one eyebrow raised. Where there had once been laughter, now there was tension. Gosling glanced at his mother and then back at Blueblood.
“I meant no offense.” Blueblood sat up a little straighter. “It is a proud and noble culture. Good values. A focus on traditions. I find I rather admire your kind.”
“Why, thank you,” Sleet said, relaxing just a little, but not taking her eyes off of Blueblood.
“Forgive me for asking, but I don’t know much about this subject. I’m curious… can somepony fill me in?” Raven gave Sleet an apologetic glance.
After taking a deep breath, Celestia said in an orator’s voice, “Raven, there were ponies living here in this land before the Founders came to what is now called Equestria. Discord very nearly destroyed them. My sister and I worked to save them. They were all that remained of a vast, beautiful civilisation, which Discord ruined.”
“Meshuggener!” Sleet spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.
“When Discord was finally defeated and the Founders drove away the brutal winter caused by the windigoes, they welcomed the First Tribes into their new nation. It is a touchy subject, as one might imagine, as the First Tribes were here first.” Celestia’s voice was calm and gentle.
“The First Tribes worshiped the alicorns,” Blueblood said in a casual, conversational tone. “Built temples dedicated to them. Had an entire religion built up around them. That part of their culture is lost to history.”
“Eh? You never told me this, Mother.” Gosling looked over at his mother with a raised eyebrow.
“What is there to tell? That way is dead and lost to us forever.” Sleet heaved a sorrowful sigh and shook her head. “I told you what you needed to know. The past is in the past. Some things are gone from us. What can we do?” Sleet shrugged and shook her head.
“I still remember,” Celestia said in a low voice. “When I was little. The temples… the cities… the murals, the art, the beauty everywhere. All of it was a labour of love for them. We never asked them to make anything. They just did… out of adoration. Just like Gosling painted me a sunset.” Celestia’s voice wavered and her barrel hitched.
“I think Gosling would worship you if you let him,” Sleet said as she tuned her wise, loving gaze upon her son. Her eyes misted over and she rested both of her front hooves upon the edge of the table as she gazed upon her son with unabashed adoration.
“Ma, she’s just a pony, like us,” Gosling said to his mother in a soft, almost apologetic voice.
“Oh, I don’t know…” Celestia let out a sigh and nudged Gosling as she smiled at him. “It might be nice, if somepony did it in a way that wasn’t annoying. Like making my sunsets better.”
Gosling started to reply, but a unicorn mare standing in the doorway cleared her throat to announce her presence, and then in a clear voice said, “Main course is served.” Gosling, looking at the alicorn beside him, began to dream of the future.
The hedge maze was empty save for Celestia and himself. Gosling had no idea which way to go, so he followed Celestia’s lead. There was a cool breeze that rustled through the hedges and topiaries. The path was lit by bronze sconces that blazed with a bright orange glow. Moths circled the sconces, but some came too close to the flames within for their own good. The path was gravel, but not just any gravel, it was gravel made from crushed white and pink marble. It crunched underhoof with each step taken, and hard, pokey edges prodded Gosling’s tender frogs
“I like your mother,” Celestia said to the pegasus who walked beside her.
“I’m relieved to hear that,” Gosling replied. He drew in a deep breath, his cheeks puffed out, and he exhaled in a slow, deliberate manner through pursed lips. “I know how she is, and I know that she can annoy some ponies, but I love her to pieces and I would never want her to change.”
The gravel crunched with each step, a steady, repetitive sound that was somehow soothing. The hedges rustled as the breeze continued to blow, sometimes gusting. Gosling looked at the mare beside him; she was a good deal larger than he was, which presented a number of challenges. Surprising her with a kiss would be difficult in the future—he couldn’t help himself, he thought about it often, her head was simply too high up for a quick, sudden peck. When standing at his full height, the tip of his nose came up to the base of her neck. The size difference would present other problems as well, but Gosling tried not to think about that—it wasn’t proper.
But he did think about it. If this relationship progressed, it would be something that would happen at some point. It would be expected of him. He had no idea how to approach the situation or what the proper etiquette was for mounting one’s monarch. His mother had tried to prepare him for almost anything in life, but there had been no lessons about this.
“You’re quiet,” Celestia said to her silent companion.
Gosling felt his cheeks grow warm and a prickling heat crept up his neck. “I was thinking… I have a lot on my mind.”
“I bet you do.” Celestia’s voice was almost teasing. “By the way, all you have to do is ask.”
“Ask?” Gosling came to a halt, his mouth went dry, and he stood there blinking up at mare who was now looking down at him. “Ask what?”
“I suspect that you were thinking about kissing me,” Celestia said in a voice that was thick with amusement. “It is dark, the firelight from the sconces is romantic, and we’re in a very private hedge maze. I know I’ve thought about it.”
“It seems soon.” Gosling shifted from his left hooves to his right hooves and then followed after the princess when she took off walking once more. She was thinking about it! She was looking ahead and he couldn’t see her face. “I mean, I, uh, well, I don’t want to be disrespectful or do anything to upset you. I really don’t want to mess this up in any way shape or form—”
“Then be bold,” Celestia said in a voice that was bare of any details of her feelings.
The princess turned a corner and Gosling followed. Ahead, there was a patch of grass, torches, some statues, and Gosling realised they were in the middle of the maze. Celestia strode forwards, her long legs making short work of the distance, and Gosling had to walk double time to keep up with her. All that time spent marching was paying off.
When Celestia sat down upon the grass, Gosling joined her. Overhead, the stars twinkled. He felt himself pulled closer by an unseen force and he found himself pressed up against her. She was warm, downy soft, and smelled of dessert—ice cream, bananas, and rum, set ablaze and allowed to glaze. Looking up, he made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Her eyes were rose coloured, like the dawn rising up over the horizon. She was looking down at him and her snoot was a scant inch away from his own. He felt his breath get caught in his throat.
As well behaved as he was, he was still a raging ball of hormones, a colt on the verge of adulthood. Parts of him reacted. He squirmed, squeezing his hind legs together, trying to keep himself contained. He could feel her breathing on him. He watched her blink, she was beautiful, but she was also arousing—sexy. She was a mare and the look she was giving him set fire to his brain and dulled his senses. His brain betrayed him and started thinking of a lot more than just a chaste kiss. Every steamy image in his spank bank began flooding into his brain.
He was burning with desire and shivering with need. Gosling had never been more turned on in his whole life. His guts ached as he tried to hold himself back. He had trouble breathing. He caught a whiff of something that wasn’t dessert, it wasn’t ice cream, bananas, and rum—it was musky, made him light headed, and set his ears on fire. He could feel his heart beating in his throat.
Then be bold... the words echoed between his ears. Extending his neck, he made a clumsy push upwards and his snoot smacked into Celestia’s. Undeterred, undaunted, he kept going, and he smashed his mouth into hers, then began kneading his lips against hers, the sloppy, inexperienced snogging of a secondary schooler.
He felt a foreleg wrap around him, pulling him closer, almost crushing, and he felt her take over. Powerful suction was applied and for a moment, he thought his guts would be sucked up his throat and out his mouth. His fevered brain went into a lustful frenzy as he followed her lead. She was showing him what to do and he mimicked her movements. The kiss had a searing intensity. A week of buildup had taken place. A week was almost forever to somepony Gosling’s age.
And then, he felt it. The dull ache in his guts. The pounding of his heart. Something was happening. Squeezing his hind legs together to try and contain himself turned out to be a very bad idea. He felt his body shudder.
This was the worst thing ever.
He broke the kiss and tried to get away, but he couldn’t. He looked up at Celestia with wide, pleading eyes, and then his hips bucked, betraying him. He felt things rubbing, rubbing in a way that made his whole body twitch and quiver.
“Shh, it’s okay to get excited, just let it happen,” Celestia whispered into his ear as the first involuntary spasms started to take place. He felt his hind legs tense up, his leg muscles went rock hard, his hocks tightened, and he gasped.
Celestia never let go of him, even as his eyes rolled back into his head. He closed his eyes, felt a tickle on his ear as Celestia whispered something, but he could not make out her words—he was deafened by the roaring in his ears.
Everything in his body clenched, and then, it happened.
The sound of Celestia laughing filled his ears as Gosling lay on his back in the grass, staring up at the stars, and he fostered fond hopes that he would die from embarrassment. He was so embarrassed about what had just happened that he didn’t care that he was laying on his back, exposed. He felt empty inside, spent, almost as if he had been hollowed out. He had just eaten dinner a little while ago, but his innards felt as though they were some vast void. Beside him, Celestia sat upon her haunches, her long hind legs kicked out, and she propped herself up with one front hoof planted in the grass between her legs.
“That was my fault. I squeezed you too hard and caused that to happen.” Celestia tittered and reached over with her free hoof to touch Gosling on his barrel. Her nostrils crinkled and she shook her head. “That cheese had to be aging in the cellar for quite a while, Gosling.”
Cringing, Gosling covered up his face with his forelegs as he closed his eyes.
“Oh, come now, it was bound to happen sooner or later,” Celestia said, still tittering.
Gosling groaned in reply.
“You’re such a silly pony,” Celestia said in a low voice as her hoof made little circles on Gosling’s barrel. “When you sleep next to me in bed, it is bound to happen.” The princess giggled and then prodded Gosling, trying to get some sort of a response out of him. “You’ll be sleeping next to me in the bed, I’ll roll over, or you’ll go to hold me in my sleep—”
Whimpering, Gosling shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.
“Gosling… what do I have to do to get you to feel better?” Celestia’s smile became impish and she extended one wing. “Oh wait, I know!” She ran her wingtip over Gosling’s belly, starting at his ribs and working her way downwards.
There was a yelp and then a giggle as Gosling rolled over, kicking his legs and trying to defend his sensitive stomach. He looked over at the mischievous alicorn, sat up, sighed, and shook his head.
“Gosling, you will soon discover that we alicorns do everything better… magic, flight, our strength… everything. I can blow out candles from across the room.”
The colt began snickering at Celestia’s words and he gave her an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I suppose you’re right. At some point, it was bound to happen.” Gosling paused for a moment, looked up into Celestia’s eyes, and scooted a little closer to her. “It is strange to hear you talking about us being in bed together. Is that really a foregone conclusion?”
“Forgone conclusion?” Celestia snorted, threw her head back, and laughed. After a moment of boisterous laughter, she looked back down at Gosling, bent her neck, and sat almost snoot to snoot with him. “Cadance did her job a little too well. You are very dear to me. I’ve already grown very attached to you, Gosling.”
“We’ve spent a week getting to know each other,” Gosling said.
“Time is different for me.” Celestia wrapped one wing around Gosling and pulled him close again. “Time is so very different for me. In some ways, time is far more precious to me, in other ways, time has lost meaning for me, Gosling.”
“Help me to understand,” Gosling said as he nuzzled Celestia’s neck.
“A week to you is but a few moments to me,” Celestia began, her voice almost sounding sad. “But those are precious moments for me. You look at everything in weeks, months, and years… you rush about doing everything, so worried about time, or not enough time, but you little ponies are always so worried about time. Like you worrying if a week is long enough to get to know somepony before you can kiss them or allow for a little harmless poot.”
“I’m still trying to understand.” Gosling rubbed his cheek against Celestia’s neck, feeling the muscles beneath her velvet pelt, feeling the blood flow through her veins, he could feel the evidence that she was alive, that she was flesh and blood.
“Gosling, you might live to be a hundred or more, maybe longer, and that will be a very long time to you. For me, it will be a blink of an eye. Every moment, every second I get to spend with you will be precious. You might get almost a hundred years to spend with me—”
“But from your perspective, you will only have what will feel like a year with me?” Gosling finished.
Celestia nodded and pulled Gosling closer. “Cadance was right to go after somepony young… somepony like you. You’re just right. I’ll get just a few more precious moments with you.”
“I… I’m not sure what to say.” Gosling turned his body a bit so he was facing Celestia a little more, and he craned his head so that he might look up at her. “So I guess for you, talking about us sharing a bed together is just…” Gosling’s voice trailed off as words failed him. He didn’t know how to finish or what to say. He found his own mortal perspectives smashing up against infinity and breaking apart.
“For me, the now just blends together. There is only the now. For you, the present is measured in minutes and seconds. For me, a year can pass and that is my present.” Celestia bent her neck a little more, lowered her head, and pressed her muzzle into Gosling’s ear. She inhaled, then chuffed, and delighted in how his body moved against hers. “Time slips away from me like a fart in the breeze… it happens and then it is gone as suddenly as it appears.”
“What do you want from me?” Gosling asked in a low, strained voice as he felt Celestia breathing on his ear. “Do you need for me to pick up the pace? What do I do?”
“Just keep being you,” Celestia replied, her words tickling Gosling’s ear.
“Can things work between us?” Gosling tilted his head back a bit and pressed his snoot against Celestia’s jawline. He could feel her muscles tensing. Her body might tell him what her words did not.
“Yes,” Celestia said without hesitation, “yes they can.”
The tension in Celestia’s jaw increased and Gosling closed his eyes. He came to the understanding that he was now in a race against time. He was going to have to love her, completely and without reservation, make every moment together special, make every moment meaningful, make it as though every moment spent with her might be their last. He would never be able to take a single moment for granted, every moment would be precious.
With these thoughts in his mind, he wiggled in her grasp, wrapped both of his forelegs around her neck, and thrust his head up as high as it could go. Sitting down side by side, she was still so much taller than he was, so something else had to be done.
Gosling had to be bold.
Bracing his hindquarters against the ground, he gave a shove and a heave, pushing Celestia over. She offered little resistance and holding her neck, he lowered her to the grass, where she lay upon her side. He cradled her neck in his forelegs, her head resting against him, and he found himself in the odd position where she was looking up at him, and he could look down at her.
For the second time, he kissed her. Remembering what he learned from the previous kiss, he pressed his mouth against hers, tilted his head off to one side, and kneaded his lips against hers. Heat flooded through his muzzle, through his mouth, down his throat, and blossomed through his belly. As the kiss intensified, Celestia’s wing flapped against her side, her other wing was pinned beneath her body and trapped against the grass beneath her. Gosling, remembering that he had things other than his lips, rubbed his foreleg against the soft curve of her throat as he kissed her, and he felt himself wobble on his haunches as he almost lost his balance.
The friction of the kiss caused his lips to grow hot—tingles crept through his face and when he closed his eyes, spots and splotches of colour danced on the inside of his eyelids. His wings unfurled from his sides, his body making a desperate effort to try and cool itself as the kiss grew hotter and hotter. His blood felt as though it was boiling and he could feel his wings throbbing as his body dumped his roiling blood into his extremities so it could cool.
Something brushed up against his lips and his brain caught on fire when he registered it as Celestia’s tongue, it had come slithering, seeking entrance, a viper armed with deadly love poison that was certain to finish him off. His own lips parted a bit, he was cautious, this was out of his league, outside of his experience, this was unknown territory.
She surprised him by licking the roof of his mouth. Her tongue darted in, swift, a skilled invader, and he could feel the very tip of her tongue dancing along the top of his mouth. As swiftly as it had come, it was gone again, but only for a moment, before it came back, and this time, the flat of her tongue was dragged over the roof of his mouth. He could feel every lumpy bump, the rough texture made his whole body tremble.
Feeling courageous, Gosling invaded, doing so with the ferocity of the pegasi army ransacking Roam. He might have been clumsy and inexperienced, but at this moment in time, he was beyond caring. His own tongue battered down the gate and made its way into Celestia’s city, and her square teeth were like little houses for his tongue to explore. After a few pokes and prods, he pushed his way in deeper.
He encountered resistance. Princess Celestia—Sol Invictus—was not one for easy conquest. He found himself being pushed back. Her tongue slid over his, she was both dexterous and strong. His tongue fought a losing battle, but did so with valiant effort. With his eyes closed, she was a mare, an eager, needy mare, not much different than a secondary school filly.
All thought of treating her as a princess was gone as he continued to kiss her. He groped her, feeling her neck, and lost himself in the moment. In his embrace was a pony, very much like any other. She applied suction, pulling the wind out of him, and made him submit. He pulled away with a wet slurp and opened his eyes. Spots swam in his vision. He looked down and saw two rose coloured eyes looking back up at him. He adored her.
He sucked in a deep breath, his lungs burning, and he continued to cradle her head in his forelegs. She wasn’t even breathing hard, she looked as composed and calm as could be, but he knew it was an act; he could feel the blood surging through her neck and her heart was pounding with such fury that he could feel each thump travel through her flesh, through her muscles, up her throat, and into his forelegs.
“Let me spend the rest of my life worshipping you,” Gosling breathed, “your body will be my temple and I will spend my days getting to know every secret that is hidden inside.”
“Such bold words, my little pony,” Celestia replied.
“Let me sing praises unto you upon the steps leading to your heart…” Gosling was oblivious to everything but the rose coloured eyes he found himself falling into; his arousal, his turgid wingboner, the way his stomach muscles spasmed.
There was a gasp from Celestia, and then she began giggling. She lifted a foreleg, hooked it around the back of Gosling’s head, and gazed into his eyes, withholding nothing from him.
Celestia’s head was eased down to the grass and she rolled over onto her back, perhaps expecting something else from Gosling. She waited, smiling, giving Gosling an inviting, sultry, come hither stare, but Gosling made no other move than to lay down beside her, close to her, also on his back.
“Do you know what I love?” Gosling asked in a breathless voice.
“Me?” Celestia replied, feeling more than a little cheeky.
“I love swimming in the water at night… clear, clean water… when you look down, you can see the stars in the water and it looks as though you are swimming through the night sky. But it has to be in a dark place so you can see the stars.”
“Hmm.” Celestia tilted her head to look over at Gosling, whose head was just a few inches from her own. “That does indeed, sound pleasant. Did your secondary school sweetheart enjoy doing that with you?”
Gosling was silent for a moment, a scowl crept over his muzzle, and then smoothed away as he shook his head. “No. She was scared of the dark… scared of the night. Like so many others. She could not see the beauty in it, only the unknown. It scared her. She liked streetlamps and staying within the safety of the city.”
“I did not mean to cause you pain by asking about her,” Celestia said, thinking about the expression she had seen upon Gosling’s face. “I only asked because I was curious.”
“It’s okay. Cadance has helped me get over her. I was a fool,” Gosling said, shaking his head. “I was so set to marry the first filly I fell in love with. All I could think about was commitment. I don’t know what I was thinking… I was foolish and stupid, I suppose. I just figured I would make things work.”
“I’m sorry, Gosling.”
“It wasn’t even love, it was lust and infatuation. While I try to behave myself, I’m not so different than any other colt my age. I have strong needs. I matured young… early. It worried my mother something awful.” Gosling sighed and folded his forelegs over his barrel as he gazed up at the stars. “She sat me down and had a very graphic discussion about lust and sex. She spared no detail. She held nothing back. She even explained how I could take care of my own needs so I wouldn’t feel so pressured into finding a filly to help me scratch my itch. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to do what she did, but I’m glad she did it. I didn’t understand everything she was saying back then, but I did learn one thing that day.”
“And what did you learn, Gosling?” Celestia asked, feeling intrigued.
“I learned that I could talk to my mother about anything. Anything at all. She’s a strong mare and I know that she rubs some ponies wrong, but she’s done right by me. She has never failed to be there for me when I needed her.” Gosling sighed again. “No doubt, she’s probably planning another talk… this time, about love and marriage. She’ll probably tell me everything I need to know to keep a mare happy.”
Princess Celestia moved with an unmistakable spring in her step. There could be no doubt about it, she was almost bouncy, and her usual reserved, restrained, dignified walk was now springy. A ruler she might be, but she was also a mare, and she was in love—she wanted to pronk through the halls and sing about it.
Princess Cadance and Prince Consort Shining Armor fell into pace beside her, with Shining Armor trotting double time to keep up with the longer legged alicorns. Shining Armor wore his dress armor and his helmet.
As they walked, Shining Armor looked up at Princess Celestia and asked, “Are you excited?” A look of concern spread over his own features. “Are you nervous? Are you worried?”
“Shiny,” Cadance said in a low voice, “not so many questions.”
“I’m worried,” Shining Armor admitted to his wife.
“I’m fine.” Celestia looked at Cadance and then at Shining Armor. “How is Gosling?”
“He was a little rough when I checked in on him,” Shining Armor replied in a voice thick with anxious energy, “But I think that Private Gosling will pull through. He’s already in the press room, waiting.”
“Sleet is quite a character.” Cadance let out a melodious giggle as she trotted beside her aunt. “She and I talked this morning. I like Sleet. She radiates powerful love.”
“Where is Sleet now?” Celestia asked.
“She is with my mother, Twilight Velvet, watching over Flurry Heart,” Shining Armor replied. “We’re here… are you sure you’re okay, Auntie?” Shining Armor came to a halt and looked up at Celestia with wide, concerned eyes. “I only ask because I know how you can be.”
Standing at the door, Celestia looked down at Shining. “I’m fine, really.” Celestia’s brows furrowed. “Is Prince Blueblood in place in case the press become vicious?”
“Yes, and he is in a fantastic mood this morning. So much snark just bottled up and waiting.” Cadance, who now stood beside her aunt, gestured at the door. “Age before beauty.”
“Cadance, you little whippersnapper.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed and she gave her niece a mock-menacing stare. “Just you wait, there will come a day…”
“Let’s do this,” Shining Armor said as he pushed open the door.
Stepping into the room, Princess Celestia took stock of everything she could as she entered. Gosling, her precious Gosling, was wearing his armor, but without the uniformity spell that would turn him into a spotless white pegasus with no cutie mark. He was on full display. He was standing next to Prince Blueblood, who was sitting on a cushion, looking bored and disinterested. Beside Blueblood, Raven sat on a different cushion, a stern, almost harsh looking glare upon her face. Nothing about her looked friendly, warm, or inviting. Perfect.
Raven was the face of raw intimidation and Blueblood was pure snark, while Celestia herself was pure, radiant sunshine. Between the three of them, the public was managed and the press was wrangled. Gosling’s role had not yet been decided, the three of them had yet to see Gosling’s own natural inclination, but once his natural gifts had been determined, he would be groomed to play his part and play it well.
As Celestia moved to stand behind the podium, with Shining Armor and Cadance at her sides, it was Raven who addressed the awaiting press, standing up and speaking to them in a flawless, clarion voice.
“Greetings, members of the press, you were summoned here today for a momentous, historical announcement.” Raven cleared her throat with a muted, polite cough, glanced at Private Gosling, and then gestured to Princess Celestia. “Your Princess has something to tell you and I, Raven, her most trusted advisor, would like to remind you to be on your best behaviour. Thank you, in advance.”
Almost as if on cue, every head in the press box turned to look at Princess Celestia. Princess Cadance stood on her right, while Prince Consort Shining Armor stood on her left. Only the sun itself matched the luminosity of Princess Celestia’s smile.
The press waited and silence thundered through the room. Princess Celestia stood at the podium, blinking, looking down at the little ponies in the press box, a wide, beaming smile upon her muzzle, but no words seemed forthcoming, as she had become frozen. The corner of her eye twitched and there was a faint rustle of feathers.
“Good news, everypony,” Cadance said to the press, “your beloved princess has begun courting her future consort!” Cadance nudged her aunt, worried, but wore a mask of perfect, unflappable calm.
“He is the handsome, debonair fellow right over there,” Shining Armor said, stepping in and picking up the slack. He pointed to Gosling with his hoof. “Private Gosling, would you please come up here and stand with us?” As Shining Armor spoke, there was murmuring from the press box.
Saluting, Private Gosling responded with barely a second’s delay to the command given to him. He moved with well practiced, precise, militaristic grace as he mounted the dias where the podium was, and he positioned himself beside Shining Armor.
With his natural pelt colour of black, grey, and silver, Private Gosling made for a stunning bit of eye candy in his golden armor. Several photos were snapped, flashbulbs popped, and the sounds of the press talking amongst themselves could be heard throughout the room.
“I like Private Gosling,” Princess Celestia managed to say in a reedy voice.
Turning his head, Prince Blueblood raised one eyebrow, almost as if daring the press to say something impolite, and he gave Princess Celestia a worried glance. He then turned his steely, sarcastic gaze upon the press, glowering at them. No amount of flower power could match his glower power.
“Princess Celestia has found herself a boy toy,” a mare in the press box said. “She’s found herself a schoolyard playmate to help her pass the time.”
The room filled with a rush of sound, but was silenced by Raven clearing her throat.
“Forgive me,” Princess Celestia said in a voice that cracked with worry, “but I just realised that I am inviting all of you to share in a very private moment of my life. Private moments. Many private moments. Private Gosling and I are still getting to know one another. He has my affection… he is very dear to me and just now, while standing here, I came to a realisation of what I am subjecting him to. I understand that our courtship is going to be the focal point of the public interest. I understand that there is going to be much speculation…” Princess Celestia’s words trailed off and she stood staring at the ponies who stared at her.
“What she is asking is that you insufferable, degenerate, parasitic, garbage digging, filth worshiping, window peeping, public toilet accosting, half witted, malodorous twits show a little restraint and mercy—”
“Prince Blueblood!” Princess Cadance said in a shocked voice, falling back on the rehearsed and scripted plan of what to do if things went a little sideways. Cadance could not fault Blueblood for running interference, but did he have to do it so well? She studied the press box, trying to gauge reactions. Many ears were drooping and quite a few of them looked suitably shocked, but also shamed—and also guilty. The guilty looks were telling, saying everything that needed to be said. Blueblood had once again done his job, being the royal bastard that the Royal Pony Sisters needed him to be.
The press had not turned outright vicious yet, but Blueblood had made a preemptive strike. As much as she wanted to, Cadance could not fault him. This was a bloody business, and Blueblood was a seasoned player in this game. She glanced at Gosling, then back out at the press. She felt a growing tension at the base of her skull and it caused the muscles in her neck to tighten. She could feel it, her alicorn senses told her that danger was coming. This was going to be a bloodbath. Maybe not today, but soon.
“Can she have nothing that makes her happy without you mite ridden vultures soiling it?” Prince Blueblood asked in a dry, haughty voice. “Ugh, my lungs feel soiled just sharing the very same air that the rest of you breathe! You disgust me!”
“Prince Blueblood, that’s enough,” Shining Armor said in a commanding voice.
Shrugging, the snide, sarcastic prince made no reply. The tension in the room grew. The sound of pens scratching over paper filled the room. There were a few more photographs. Cadance’s worry gnawed at her. The manticores were hungry and blood was in the air.
“I think I need some air,” Princess Celestia said in a low voice to Shining Armor, who stood beside her.
Shining Armor's military bearing was strong and cut through the tension in the room like a knife when he barked, “Private Gosling, we must be going. Please assist your princess.”
“Sir, it is both a duty and a privilege, Sir,” Gosling responded in a flinty voice that made the princess he served blink with surprise.
Princess Celestia found herself being herded out, with Shining Armor on one side and Private Gosling on the other. The gentle, soft spoken Gosling she knew was gone, now replaced with a stranger. His hardness shocked her. Private though he might be, his aura of authority, his voice of command, his bearing and presence were unmistakable. She now understood why others were hopeful of him becoming an officer. She was going to have to pull him aside and have a word with him in private.
She heard the press murmuring as she departed and could not help but think about what she had seen, what she had witnessed. She had hoped for a joyful occasion, but Raven had been right. The press was only motivated by sensationalism, not by journalism. Not any more. Saddened, she shook her head, knowing that she had witnessed the end of an era. What had happened to the fourth estate? She would mourn its passing. Some presence had filled the room and Celestia had not felt more vulnerable and exposed than she had in there in a long, long time. Her skin had crawled.
Overcome with anxiety, with stress, Princess Celestia felt her stomach lurch. Unable to give warning, or to say why she had to depart suddenly, she teleported away, vanishing in a flash of light, departing through the aether so that she might hurry to the restroom.
Pacing, Cadance tried to contain her nervous energy. She crossed the room in just a few steps, her long legs making short work of the available floorspace. A dreadful scowl hung from her muzzle and her eyes remained narrowed. Her ears went from being pinned to her skull to being pitched forwards in an aggressive manner, then back again.
Blueblood was lounging on a fainting couch, drinking wine and looking bored as he watched Cadance pace. He held his wine glass close to his muzzle and after heaving a sigh of ennui, he took a drink a drained half of the glass in a single gulp.
“What… what just went on in there?” Shining Armor asked.
“The first shots fired in a war,” Blueblood replied without hesitation. “What is sure to be a long and bloody war. Damn them all… they’ve forced me to start drinking and it isn’t even noon yet.” He emptied his glass, lifted up the wine bottle on the table beside him, and poured himself another. “I have resorted to debauchery to keep my sanity in these trying times.”
“We need new press correspondents,” Raven said as she snatched away the wine bottle from Blueblood. Lifting it to her lips, she tilted it back and took a long pull from the bottle. When she pulled the bottle away, her lips were stained red. “We just got new press correspondents… these were supposed to be the good ones.”
“Raven, you took my Cabernet Fancy,” Blueblood whined. His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Maybe tonight,” Raven replied in a distracted voice, trying to mollify Blueblood. “I’ll bring the riding crop and you can wear that tacky, tawdry crown that you like.”
“I’ll not let a filcher of fine wine in my bed.” Blueblood gave Raven a dismissive wave of his hoof. “Away with you, dirty peasant, I’ll not soil myself by parting your plebian flesh with my royal sceptre—”
“Will you two stop that?” Cadance demanded. “We have a crisis to deal with. Besides, nopony wants to hear about what you two do together behind closed doors. Yuck!” Cadance shuddered with revulsion and stuck out her tongue.
“Crisis?” Gosling asked in a soft voice. “Is it really that bad?”
“Right now,” Blueblood began as he waved his wineglass around, “the press is no doubt pounding the pavement, looking for any dirt they can find on you. They’re going to find your old filly friend… and then the circus will come to town. You mark my words. I bet we’ll see something by the evening edition, or the morning paper by the very latest.”
“Blueblood, your pessimism does you a disservice.” Shining Armor, scowling, yanked his helmet off and tossed it down upon the floor., where it clattered and bounced. He shook himself, messing up his mane, and his ears flapped.
“Oh really,” Blueblood replied. The snide sarcasm in his voice was so thick that it could be cut with a butter knife and spread over toast, like very bitter, very acidic marmalade. “Care to place a wager, Shining?”
Gritting his teeth, Shining Armor turned a steely glare upon Blueblood, his nostrils flaring, and after a moment, the worked up stallion shook his head. “No. No I don’t. Because you are an insufferably smug bastard when you are right.”
“Why are they doing this?” Gosling asked.
“Sensationalism… paper sales… advertisement money,” Blueblood replied. Rolling his eyes, Blueblood took a long drink from his wine glass, almost emptying it. He smacked his lips and his ears splayed out sideways from his head. “Advertisers offer the biggest, most lucrative contracts to the news outlets that sell the most papers. Actual news doesn’t sell very well, go figure. So everything is fluff pieces, gossip, and sensationalism. It’s the same reason why Mister Teapot keeps showing up in the papers and everypony reads about his adventures. He’s become a hero in the public eye. A very dangerous figure, if you believe what the media tells you.”
“Bah, I’ve met Mister Teapot. He’s harmless.” Raven tipped back the bottle and took another drink, which caused Blueblood to whimper. “The papers have made him into a mythic figure of legend. Every time his name is mentioned, sales double.”
“Must you be so vulgar?” Blueblood asked as he watched Raven lick the neck of the bottle, her tongue lapping up droplets of wine. “The papers would have you believe that he is the most dangerous unicorn alive.”
“I thought Starlight was the most dangerous unicorn alive?” Raven thumped herself on her barrel with her hoof and let fly with a horrendous belch. “I think I need some antacids.”
“My sophisticated wine does not agree with your peasant palate.” Blueblood jerked the wine bottle away from Raven, refilled his glass, and set the bottle back down upon the table. He peered down into his wine glass, looking disgusted, and then squinted at Raven. “My drink is ruined by your commoner backwash. Vile!” Lifting his glass, Blueblood took a drink and shuddered as he swallowed.
“I hate to say this, but Blueblood is right.” Cadance ceased her pacing and stood beside her husband, Shining Armor. “We need to pony up and occupy the battle stations. There’s nothing quite as bad as a lover spurned. Jealousy is a powerful toxin.” Cadance peered at Gosling and shook her head. “Brace yourself, Gosling, but I think Skyfire Flash is going to cause you some trouble.”
“You mean it wasn’t enough to accuse me of being gay and ruining my reputation because I rejected her advances?” Gosling let out a snort of disbelief. “It’s like I’m back in secondary school all over again. Ugh.” Gosling wobbled on his hooves, his eyes narrowed, and he let out a belch that caused him to quiver in disgust. “I think I’m gonna be sick!”
Fleeing the room, Gosling took off at a run, gagging as the contents of his stomach threatened to escape.
“Well well well… this went splendidly,” Blueblood said as Gosling went crashing and clanking through the door. “The game is ahoof. I now have an excuse to be an outright and utter bastard.”
“Like you ever needed an excuse,” Raven replied in a voice filled with cutting snark.
“Raven my dear, you wound me.” Blueblood gave the mare next to him a sidelong glance. “Must you be such an uppity bitch?”
“If I was a nice mare, you’d lose interest in me, you lazy ingrate.” Raven’s eyes narrowed. “By the way, whatever happened to ladies first?”
“Oh ho ho ho...touché.”
Raven snorted. “Yeah, whatever, douché.”
“Oh for crying out loud, will you two just go and get a room!” Cadance cried.
Stepping into the dimmed and darkened room, Celestia waited for her eyes to adjust. She didn’t feel very well, the stress was having an effect upon her, and the sour smell of vomit clung to the insides of her nostrils. She stood, trembling, feeling lightheaded and out of sorts. The ponies she sought out for comfort were all gathered around a table and as Celestia’s eyes adjusted, she saw that they were playing cards.
“Poker?” Celestia asked as she approached the table.
“This isn’t a poker game,” Blueblood replied, “this is a rich, rewarding educational experience for Gosling.”
“It looks like a poker game.” Celestia eased herself down into a chair that was just a little too small for her and leaned against the edge of the table as her rounded, plush backside spilled over both sides of her chair. She looked around the table at the various ponies that she loved and trusted and relaxed just a little.
“You would be wrong, Auntie.” Blueblood gave his aunt a worried look and then focused his stare upon Gosling. “We’re teaching Gosling how to play the game. Not poker, but the game. He has far too many tells and he won’t last very long.”
Looking up from his cards, Shining Armor nodded, his head bobbing up and down. “If you are wondering where Cadance is, she is with little Flurry. Flurry needed Mommy Time.”
“The game is cutthroat,” Raven said as she tossed down her cards and snorted in disgust. “Gosling is an apt pupil.”
“Blueblood thinks that it will be the evening edition, Raven thinks it will be the morning edition. Care to place a wager, Auntie?” Shining Armor asked as Blueblood also folded. Shining tossed down his own cards and looked at Celestia.
Her horn glowing, Celestia gathered up the cards, shuffled them, and then began dealing with well practiced ease. As she picked up her cards, she heard a yelp and looked up.
“You and your ear twitches!” Raven snapped as she gave Gosling’s ear a good yank with her magic. “Every time you get good cards, your ears give you away!” She gave another hard yank on Gosling’s ear and scowled.
“Raven, dear, be gentle,” Celestia said to her assistant.
“No!” Raven’s lip curled back into a snarl. “He just won’t learn! He’s been doing this for an hour and I’m sick of chiding him about it!” She gave Gosling’s ear another yank for good measure and then let go. “I’m doing this for your own good, Gosling. You’ve chosen to play a very dangerous game.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Gosling replied as he tossed his cards down upon the table, revealing what he had. “I’ve also learned that I can have ear twitches when I have nothing at all just to get you to react.”
A terrible, horrible, wretched, soul shriveling smile appeared on Raven’s muzzle. Few ponies could appreciate treachery as much as Raven. “Very good my apprentice,” Raven said in a low, feral sounding growl, “let the deceit flow through you!”
Holding her cards close, Celestia laughed, unable to hold her reaction in. She heard Blueblood chortling beside her, and Shining Armor snorted. Celestia eyed her cards and then scanned around the table, looking for tells, but knowing that she would find none. Just as Celestia was about to make a call to ante up, the door opened.
“Shiny, Flurry needs her Daddy.”
“I’m out,” Shining said as he tossed his cards down upon the table. “Sorry.”
“Get out of here, you reprobate.” Blueblood sneered at Shining Armor for a moment, then his expression softened. “Wait, I’m coming too. I get so few opportunities to spoil little Flurry.” He too, tossed his cards down upon the table.
“Careful Blueblood, ponies might think you have a heart,” Raven said as Blueblood climbed out of his chair and stood up. “Just think of what that might do to your reputation.”
“It’s a Crown guarded secret that I love Flurry,” Blueblood snapped. He held his head high, blinked, and gave Raven a haughty sniff. “She’s adorable. And she calls me ‘Bwooby.’”
Hearing her nephew’s words, Celestia set down her cards and began to chortle. She turned, watching as Blueblood and Shining Armor left together, following Cadance. When they were gone and the door had shut, she turned to Gosling and raised one eyebrow. “Have you learned anything, Gosling?”
Gosling lifted his head and looked Celestia in the eye. “Yes I have.”
“And what have you learned?” Celestia asked.
Taking his time to respond, Gosling’s brows knitted, causing deep furrows on his forehead. “I’ve learned that Blueblood is actually incredibly nice, but acts like a bastard because it is his job. Raven is the same way, except when she’s yanking on my ears, I think she actually enjoys that because she’s a sadist—”
Raven tossed back her head and laughed with sadistic glee.
“—and I’ve learned that nothing is quite what it first seems. I’ve learned that everypony wears masks, including Shining Armor, which surprised me, because I’ve always admired him and thought of him as a very honest pony. I have had my delusions shattered.” Gosling glanced over at Raven. “I’ve also learned that when I fall down, when something bad happens, I have friends that will pick me up, dust me off, and then teach me what I need to know to keep standing.”
“Gosling…” Celestia began, “if you continue to court me… if you become my consort, you are choosing a very difficult path.” A powerful feeling of lightheadedness almost overtook Celestia and the scent of sick was still strong in her nose. No amount of washing had removed it. “Today is just the beginning. If you wish to back out—”
BAM! Gosling’s hoof smashed down onto the edge of the table, causing the cards, poker chips, and other things upon it to bounce. “NO!” Gosling’s eyes narrowed and his wings flared out from his sides. “No… no giving up. Not one inch of ground given, not without a fight! I ran away once, it didn’t fix my problems! Never again!”
“Pegasi”—Raven rolled her eyes and gave Gosling a dismissive wave of her hoof—“so hot blooded and fiery tempered. Such brutes.” She turned and looked at Celestia. “He’ll clean up well and once we can get him properly groomed, he’ll make a fine addition to the royal stable.”
Leaning over, Celestia lowered her head until she was eye to eye with Raven. “You think so?” Celestia watched as Raven’s eyes darted over and studied Gosling. She glanced at Gosling and saw his clenched teeth and tight set jaw. The muscles in his neck quivered. After a moment, Raven nodded.
“He’s a little thick headed, but I think he’ll do okay,” Raven said as she looked Celestia in the eye. “We need to get him back into school and make him an officer. He’s got the right temperament.”
“School… yes…” Celestia nodded, her ears bobbed, and she leveled a hard, cunning stare upon Gosling, allowing her own mask to slip away. Her eyes bored into him with fiery intensity, but to his credit, he did not turn away. She regarded him for several long seconds, painful, lingering, silent seconds, and he did not flinch. “Extraordinary ponies with extraordinary abilities must be given extraordinary tasks to prove themselves.”
“Like sending Twilight Sparkle to deal with Nightmare Moon’s impending return.” Raven leveled her own cold, calm stare upon Gosling. “I say we dump him into the crucible. I look forwards to seeing what comes out.”
“Not scared,” Gosling said, keeping the quaver out of his voice.
“Liar,” Raven spat, “your tells are showing. Plus, you’re sweating and your pupils are dilating wildly. I don’t even need my magic to know that you’re lying. Bad liars need a paddling to sort them out.”
“So what if I am scared...” Gosling’s eyes narrowed and he stared at Raven with his ears pitched forwards in an aggressive manner. “Doesn’t mean I’ll quit. Do your worst, you slap happy dominatrix.”
“Youthful bravado.” Raven’s eyes widened and an almost cruel smile spread over her muzzle. She turned her head towards Celestia’s direction, her mischievous eyes darting over, and her terrible grin grew ever wider. She snorted, rolled her eyes, then her expression softened, her features became kind, gentle, and serene. “He will make a faithful servant. It is so difficult to find good, loyal ponies. I feel bad that he will become cynical, bitter, and jaded like the rest of us, but he has potential.”
Celestia found herself in agreement. “I think so too.”
Taking a deep breath, Gosling stepped into the room that was filled with the ponies that would one day become his family. He started to pause, feeling overwhelmed, but Celestia gave him a hearty shove, helping him through the door. He had committed himself to this and he knew most of the ponies in the room anyway.
The first eyes his met were Twilight Velvet’s. She had an amused expression upon her face. Her eyes were vivacious, bright, gracious, young, and warm. She had a few laugh lines, a face worn by smiling, and something about how she looked at him made Gosling feel better about himself.
Beside Twilight Velvet was her husband, Night Light. He was solemn looking, the corners of his eyes were crinkled, and he stood pressed up against his wife. Gosling saw him nod in greeting, which Gosling returned.
In the corner, Blueblood lounged, looking bored and lazy. Gone was his sarcastic scowl and cynical raised eyebrow. Blueblood looked relaxed, happy, and a little sleepy. Gosling realised that he was seeing Blueblood as he really was. In this room, there were no masks.
Shining Armor sat beside Blueblood on a different couch, writing in a notebook, engrossed in some task that took all of his attention. Cadance was sitting beside him, looking tired, worn, and weary. Gosling felt another shove as he stood in the doorway, and Celestia pushed past him. The door shut behind them.
He saw his mother, Sleet, she was laying on a cushion, looking half asleep, and curled up against her side was a small foal wrapped in a blanket. Gosling could only guess that it was Flurry Heart.
“Hello,” Twilight Velvet said in a low voice as Celestia eased herself down upon a large, overstuffed and oversized sofa, a sofa meant for giants. “Gosling, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
A hot flush filled Gosling’s cheeks as Twilight Velvet took a step closer. “I have bad news, Gosling.”
“Oh?” Gosling’s eyebrow raised and he wondered if there was about to be a joke made. “Bad news you say…”
“Yes,” Twilight Velvet replied in a soft, endearing voice. “I think Cadance is going to steal your mother away and keep her as a nanny.”
“Oh no… that’s dreadful,” Gosling said, going along with the joke. “I’ll be left motherless in my time of crisis.” He heard several ponies snickering, including his mother. The sound seemed muted somehow, strange, it was in his ears, inside of his ears, and he suspected that magic might be at work. Little Flurry was sleeping after all. “Come to think of it, I think I’d be okay with that… having my mother safe and sound in the Crystal Empire, away from all the trouble that is about to take place here.”
Twilight Velvet nodded, and for a moment, her eyes became sad. “Times of trouble, as bad as they might seem to be, are treasured times in our lives. Do you understand, Gosling?”
The colt shook his head, not understanding at all. Times of trouble were bad times, which is why they were called ‘times of trouble.’ He stared at Twilight Velvet, never taking his eyes off of her, waiting for some kind of explanation.
The older mare lifted her head, holding it high, and her ears angled forwards over her eyes, not in an aggressive manner, but in the manner of a firm schoolmarm. “Times of trouble bring families together. We turn to each other for solace. It is in times of trouble that you find out who your friends are, and which family members you can trust and turn to for help.”
Hearing wisdom in her words, Gosling nodded. He watched as Twilight Velvet made a sweeping gesture with her hoof, encompassing the whole room. He heard her say, “We’re family. We’re all family. There’s a few members here that aren’t present, but you’ll meet them soon enough, I’m sure. In times of trouble, we come together. We even look after that lout.” Twilight Velvet pointed at Blueblood and Gosling heard more snickering, including Blueblood himself.
“It is a pity we can’t stay for very long,” Night Light said to Gosling, “but Twilight Sparkle will soon be opening her school. She needs our help. Some very tricky entrance exams are about to take place and she needs her mother’s help most of all.”
“Even as we speak, Trixie Lulamoon makes her way to Ponyville, Auntie.” Blueblood looked over at Celestia. “She soon faces her final exam. The road has been a long one for her and her recovery from the regrettable amulet incident has been rough.”
“I have faith that she’ll do good,” Twilight Velvet said to Blueblood, turning away from Gosling. “The colt she rears has been her salvation, just as I said he would be.” Twilight Velvet turned her head to look at Gosling once more. “Gosling, darling, you will soon find that this family stays very busy. We’ve made equinity our business.”
Night Light nodded. “And there is so much work to do…”
Waiting for the evening edition, his body tense with worry, Gosling stood beside Celestia and eavesdropped on Blueblood and Raven, but only after Celestia assured him that it was okay to listen in. Raven and Blueblood had a strange relationship, one that Gosling did not understand, a love-hate relationship between a masochist and a sadist. It could only be summed up with Blueblood saying, “Hurt me,” and Raven replying, “No.”
But that wasn’t the only thing that defined their relationship. No, there was so much more. The cattiness, the snark, the sarcasm, the insults, and low blows. Gosling was glad that he and Celestia had a more traditional, romantic relationship. He glanced over at Celestia, worried for her, and scooted a little closer as they stood together, high upon a balcony overlooking an almost empty, small, private dance hall below.
Much to Gosling’s shock and surprise, Prince Blueblood began singing, serenading Raven with a voice that sounded like a chorus of demons screeching down in Tartarus. It was just about the most horrible thing he had ever heard.
“Oh baby you… you’ve got a disease… and you say it’s just an itch, but it’s made you such a bitch…”
Gosling had to jam a hoof into his mouth and bite down to keep himself from laughter. Beside him, Celestia was shaking with silent laughter and her eyes were squeezed shut.
“Oh baby you… you’ve got a disease… and you say it’s just a rash, but something’s crawling ‘cross your ass… oh baby you… you’ve got a disease… you’ve had some sailors in your port, ‘cause now I have some knobby warts… oh baby you… yooou... you’ve got a disease…”
For a second, Gosling forgot all about the evening edition paper that would be coming out in just a little while. He leaned against Celestia, feeling her warmth, and he squeaked with laughter. It was exactly the type of song that Gosling would never serenade Celestia with.
In this crazy, crazy castle, everypony dealt with stress in their own way. The public would never believe what went on inside these walls. Poker games, royals behaving like commoners, (or worse) as well as a singing prince that could make love sound so terrible and filthy.
He heard Celestia giggling as he was lifted up and carried away from the horrendous love song being belted out below. The magic tickled all over and he had to bite down upon his hoof even harder as they made their escape through the door.
Standing on the landing on top of the stairs, Gosling gave thought on how to deal with the difference in physical size. He and Celestia were alone, or at least he believed they were alone, and Gosling wanted to make her feel better. Extending his wings, Gosling took flight, which caused Celestia to give him a curious, quizzical stare. He hovered, trying to maintain himself at her eye level. When he moved in for a kiss, he discovered a major flaw with his idea.
Lips locked together, Celestia applied suction, her kissing trick, and Gosling went weak all over. He crashed to his hooves, almost fell over, his lips now glistening with slobber, and he gave himself a determined shake as he tried to recover.
Celestia said nothing, but stood there, now looking amused and perhaps Gosling was a little optimistic, but she also seemed impressed. Undaunted, Gosling was going to conquer the giant if it was the last thing he ever did.
With Celestia staring at him, waiting, looking expectant, Gosling tried another approach. Flapping his wings for balance, he stood up on his hind hooves, threw his forelegs around Celestia’s neck, and if he stretched out his whole body, he was almost at eye level. He waggled his eyebrows and his ears as he closed the gap between them. He kissed her, his hind hooves tapping upon the marble tile floor as he tried to keep his balance. He squeezed her neck a little tighter. He was getting cramps in his hocks, but he didn’t care.
The kiss was that good.
Feeling a sense of accomplishment, he threw himself into the kiss with gusto, trying to apply everything he had learned so far. His wings fluttered as he tried to keep his balance. He kissed her with ferocious, consuming need, his lips smooshed into hers with such force that he could feel the sharp edges of her teeth pressing through her lips and into his. She stood as steady as a rock, never wavering, never moving, and Gosling gave himself over completely.
Perhaps he gave himself over a bit too much. He could feel cool air over something that he knew that he shouldn’t feel cool air blowing over. He broke the liplock with a wet slurp, blinked, and looked into Celestia’s rose coloured eyes. Blinking a few more times, he pulled away just a bit and looked down between his front legs, which were still encircled around Celestia’s neck. Oh, this was not good.
Then, to his horror, Celestia also looked down. Gosling felt his ears achieve a state of spontaneous combustion. He saw her eyes go wide and her mouth formed a perfect, round little ‘O’ as she stared down between his front legs at what lurked below.
Balancing himself as best as he could, he pulled one foreleg free from around Celestia’s neck, placed it beneath her chin, lifted her head until he could look into her eyes once more, and said, “Beautiful, my eyes are up here,” in a low, reedy whisper, his voice cracking with embarrassment.
“But what I’m interested in is down there,” Celestia replied in a voice of flawless confidence.
When Celestia tried to look down again, Gosling tipped her head back up and he let out an awkward self-conscious squeak. He wobbled on his hind legs and struggled to keep his balance. He had never done much standing up before.
“Your Gosle-nozzle is sticking out.” Celestia paused and her lips pursed together. “Or would that be your gooseneck?”
Gosling’s stormy grey face purplefied as he stood there and his burning ears drooped. There wasn’t much he could do at this point. Celestia was looking down between his forelegs and there wasn’t much he could do to stop her, save letting go. But he didn’t want to let go.
“I do believe that you want to stab me with your cooter-shooter,” Celestia said in a matter-of-fact voice. “A hopeful soldier has presented his pike to his monarch for inspection.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Gosling felt his wings go stiff. The alicorn, white and pure, a mare that appeared so spotless and beautiful, a majestic creature as flawless as the freshly fallen snow, had a dirty, filthy mouth. He let go of Celestia’s neck and dropped down upon all fours once more.
Looking up, he heard Celestia clucking her tongue at him. Her eyes were warm, affectionate, and something about her expression was impish. Something about how she looked at him filled him with desire.
There was the sound of hooves upon the stairs and Gosling panicked. Celestia turned to face the stairs and Gosling ducked behind her, dropping his extended wings down to his sides to cover and hide himself.
Cresting the stairs, Cadance paused and sniffed the air. She looked at Celestia first, then at Gosling, who was hiding behind Celestia, and without cracking even the hint of a smile, she asked, “Am I interrupting something?”
“Nope,” Celestia replied, “nothing at all.”
“Hmm, I could have sworn I felt something, it is how I found you.” Cadance sniffed again and her eyes narrowed as she gazed at her aunt. “Were you just trying to corrupt poor Gosling and compromise his values?”
“Nope,” Celestia said again, this time looking Cadance straight in the eye.
“Would you like some pointers on how to really get him worked up?” Cadance asked her aunt. “I’m very objective. I’ve given couples pointers on how to spice up their love life by observing them as they cuddle and copulate. I can watch and let you know how to do things better. I’m very knowledgeable about love—”
“I need a chaperon!” Gosling squeaked.
Cadance lowered her head and peered around Celestia’s side, looking at Gosling, who was cowering and trying to cover himself. “I am a chaperon!”
Now sitting with several others, Gosling waited on the papers, the hour growing ever nearer. A cup of tea steamed in front of him and he was hunched over the table, his neck bent, he felt worn out and weary after running away from both Cadance and Celestia, who had chased him down the stairs, down the hall, and through much of the castle.
The chase had worn him out, burning away his nervous energy, leaving him almost too tired to worry. Beside him, Celestia sipped her tea and did a crossword puzzle. Luna, who had risen early, sat at the table, but it could not be said that she was awake. She was up, but she was far from awake, much in the same way that a zombie was far from being alive. If Luna’s state of awakeness was a Venn diagram, the circles representing both Luna and being awake would be far, far away from one another, on different pages, with each page posted on the opposite shores of Equestria.
Cadance poured Luna some coffee and then patted the Princess of the Night upon the back, offering sympathy for Luna in her current pitiful condition. When Luna almost pitched forward and landed muzzle first into her coffee cup, Cadance rescued her and helped to hold Luna’s head up.
“Ugh, I hate the waiting,” Gosling said in a low grumble, his lips brushing up against the edges of his teacup, which was held in his dextrous primaries. “Is this what it feels like to be the condemned waiting on the executioner’s noose?”
“This is war,” Celestia replied, not looking up from her crossword. “Long periods of intense boredom interspersed with bowel clenching terror.”
“But we’re just waiting on the papers,” Gosling said.
“Indistinguishable from war.” Cadance once again kept Luna from falling face first into her steaming coffee cup. Reaching out, she patted Luna on the cheek and gave her sleepy aunt a smile. “Are you with us, Nana?”
Luna’s head tilted back against the chair and she dozed off with an almost deafening snort, which caused Celestia to look up from her crossword, glance at Luna, and then her eyes went wide with a realisation. “A ten letter word for sleepiness… slumberous!” Her pen moved, scratching as she scribbled out the word. “It fits! This was driving me mad!”
Glancing over Celestia’s crossword, Gosling looked at where Celestia had just wrote in a word with an ink pen. Doing a crossword puzzle in ink took some kind of guts and Gosling found one more thing he admired about his monarch.
“Going down from the beginning of ‘slumberous,’ the medical word for drowsiness, nine letters, is ‘somnolent.’” It took Gosling several seconds to realise that the room around him had gone quiet. All eyes were on Celestia. Even Luna was now almost awake, the Venn diagram papers were now placed on Canterlot and Fillydelphia. Cadance was blinking, her large eyes wide with apprehension.
Before he could say anything, Celestia beat him to the punch.
“What are all of you looking at?” Celestia demanded as she set down her pen.
“You didn’t tell him about the rule,” Cadance said in a worried voice.
Gosling felt his neck prickle. “The rule?”
Cadance nodded, her eyes wide and fearful. “The rule.”
Feeling apprehensive, Gosling blinked and looked around. “Did I just break a rule?”
“The unspoken rule is that nopony helps Auntie with her crosswords. She gets… testy—”
“Oh pooh,” Celestia blurted out and dismissing Cadance’s words with a wave of her hoof, “Gosling is allowed to help me. Couples should work on crosswords together.” Celestia rolled her eyes and picked up her pen.
“The rule has been amended,” Cadance said in a low, anxious voice,
Snorting, Celestia tossed her head back. “Cadance, stop being silly. You’re acting as though I get irrational and out of sorts if somepony butts in on my crossword.”
“Auntie, need I remind you of the Twilight Sparkle breakfast crossword incident?” Cadance’s voice was almost foalish and wheedling. Cadance, ducking her head down low, looked at Gosling. “Twilight came up with an answer that had stumped Auntie all day and all night… zyzzyva... it is a type of weevil… Twilight didn’t hesitate at all, she looked at it and knew what it was right away—”
“The annoying little know it all picked up my pen and filled in my crossword!” Celestia tossed her pen down again and it bounced on the table. “I had been up all night trying to figure it out. I hadn’t even heard of a zyzzyva weevil… how Twilight knew about it, I’ll never know.” Celestia gave Cadance a sullen stare. “What if she had been wrong? Over two hundred years of filling in crosswords with a pen and no mistakes. She might have ruined my streak.”
The door opened and Night Light stuck his head into the room. “The papers are here…”
Gosling was unable to bring himself to look as the others began sorting through the pile of newspapers. He heard wickers, he heard whinnies, sniffles, and snorts of indignation. He felt his stomach clenching and leaned back in his chair. His ears fidgeted and twitched with every sound. The only other pony not sorting through the papers was Luna, and she was still waging a bitter, brutal war with her state of consciousness.
Blueblood and Raven had joined in, the both of them scanning headlines with wary, practiced eyes. Nightlight held several papers aloft, checking both the front page scrawls and the inside scoops. Shining Armor was busy with the lesser publications, the fringe papers that reported things most decidedly not news.
“Tell me again, why do we have a free press?” Blueblood asked in acerbic tones.
“Nephew!” Celestia scolded Blueblood with a harsh glare and shook her head in disapproval. “A free, unrestricted press is the cornerstone of a progressive society.”
Eyes narrowing, Blueblood shook his head in disagreement. “Malarky! This isn’t journalism! This isn’t the press! I would gladly defend an actual journalist, even one who wrote something awful about me, but this isn’t news! This is speculation, this borderlines upon slander! This is pure dreck!” Blueblood tossed a newspaper at his aunt and his brows knitted into deep furrows, a fertile field planted with the seeds of rage. “Out of touch princess finds new toy for her bath while country continues to be torn apart by dissidents seeking equality!”
“Oh my,” Celestia said as she held aloft the paper that Blueblood had chucked at her. She read the article, her eyes narrowing, her lips moving, and an expression of disbelief was visible upon her face. “Oh dear, we may have a crisis of image to deal with.”
“The rubber ducky is not a reassuring symbol of rule,” Raven muttered as she folded up one paper and unfolded another. “We need to get him into school as soon as possible and provide the public with the image that he is being prepared for his future.”
“So far, nothing positive,” Night Light said as he shook his head. “Not one kind word to say. This is going to be brutal. I wonder if it will be as bad as—”
“The press finding out that Flurry was born an alicorn and the accusations that we’re plotting to expand the oppression of the alicorns upon the free tribes?” Cadance looked over at her father in law, then at her aunt, and then over at Gosling, who appeared to be stunned by what he was hearing. Cadance paused and the room was filled with the rustle of newspapers. “We are a family besieged. We can’t do anything without vile backlash, accusations, or criticism. Our every action is second guessed. My aunt finds love and the press calls it a national crisis of the worst stripe.”
“It’s pretty bad,” Night Light agreed. “Surely something can be done to calm the public ire.”
Cadance levitated a paper over to her father in law. “This one demands that Princess Celestia step down because of her egregious offense against the ponies of Equestria.”
Flinching, Night Light took the paper, but he sat it down upon the table without reading it. He looked at his daughter in law, then at his son, and after sitting there, silent, looking out of sorts, he looked over at Celestia.
Cadance’s jaw clenched and she ground her teeth for a moment. Her eyes glittered with rage. “The claim has been made that Princess Celestia owes Equestria her undivided attention… that she is a public asset… that she… she…” Cadance began to sputter and spit. The corner of her eye began twitching and her ability for cognisant speech departed from her. She sucked in a deep breath, her barrel expanding, threw back her head, and let out a bellowing whinny of bellicose fury that made everything on the table rattle.
“It appears as though it will be the morning edition that will have the scoop of the century,” Raven said as she glanced at Gosling. “This is good, this gives us more time for damage control.” Raven adjusted her glasses. “Cadance, darling, deep calming breaths.”
“This one says that Celestia’s choice was insulting to the extreme,” Blueblood said in a low voice as he tossed his paper down. “The writer offered up his opinion that any sort of royal marriage should be done with high ranking military officials, as a form of reward for their many years of devotion and service, as they have earned the right to be the royal consort. Passing them over is just another insult to the public, one of many, and the writer suggests that Princess Celestia be held accountable so that she might answer for her indifference against those who sacrifice all they have to serve her.” Blueblood tapped the paper with his hoof. “We may have a problem here if this is used to stir up dissent among the guards. If this becomes a rallying cry, we’re going to have some very real trouble.”
“So after a lifetime of service, the reward offered is to bang my aunt?” Cadance’s eyes narrowed and she went silent for a time. She sat in her chair, her sides heaving, eyes blinking, staring down at the papers now scattered upon the table. “I think I need some fresh air… please, excuse me.”
“I think I’ll join you,” Night Light said to Cadance. “Come on, Cadance. Let us both go for a nice walk around the battlements.”
Looking unsettled, Celestia tossed her head back and looked over at Gosling. “I think I need some air as well. Private Gosling, would you please accompany me?”
Gosling’s sullen expression vanished and his eyes brightened. “Of course.” His head bobbed and he spilled out of his chair so that he could go with Celestia. In his nervousness, he stumbled over his own hooves, but recovered while letting out a self conscious chuckle. He glanced over at Cadance, who was now departing with Night Light, then back at Celestia, who rose from her chair with majestic grace.
Shaking her head, Luna smacked her lips and let out a sleepy snort. “Since when did we give free reign to rabble rousers, knaves, and miscreants? We used to have ways and means of dealing with such troublemakers that plagued us. Now we protect them and call it civic duty. I do not not understand this era, not at all.”
Every time he looked up at Celestia, Gosling felt his heart swell. The mask was gone and she looked troubled. She was doing nothing to hide her emotions. With each step she took, her wings fidgeted against her sides. He could see muscles jerking beneath her velvety, taut pelt. His ears twitched with every ragged sounding breath that traveled through her long throat. She steamed in the cool night air. Earlier, as they had walked together, Gosling had something of an epiphany—Canterlot was the seat of power because of the availability of cooler air. Celestia, with her oversized wings, was prone to overheating, even more so during times of stress. Canterlot’s high altitude offered Celestia some relief.
“I feel very guilty right now…”
Gosling didn’t like Celestia’s tone. It worried him. He glanced up, his ears perking, and worried about the mare beside him. “Why is that?”
“Because I have destroyed any chance you had of ever having a normal life,” Celestia replied as she walked, her hooves heavy and scraping over the stone with each step. “If we were to part ways right now, any semblance of a normal life for you would remain elusive. No matter what you do, no matter which decision you make, your life from this point forward has been forever altered.”
“But we are not parting ways.” Gosling lifted his head a little higher and his eyes narrowed. His ears picked up the faint sounds of somepony sobbing some distance away. He knew who was sobbing, and he knew why. Somehow, it felt wrong to listen, as though he was intruding upon something personal, painful, and private. He hoped that Night Light could make things better somehow, but Gosling had no idea how to fix something like this.
“So that’s it then?” Celestia asked in a low voice that did nothing to hide her bitterness. “You’re going to be the good, loyal soldier that blindly follows your princess, no matter the consequences?”
Celestia’s bitterness, her anger, and her frustration stung his ears and made his heart ache. Gosling nodded his head and his hooves felt heavy as he kept pace beside the troubled mare that he was coming to love. “You said it… I can’t go back to how things were. I could never go back to a normal life at this point. I see no other good option but to continue forwards. I shall remain with you, come what may.”
“You face a life of endless criticism and scorn… a life of accusations… a life of others never believing that you are good enough for the mare you have chosen to love.” Celestia shook her head as she walked and her worried eyes glanced down at Gosling.
“Maybe so…” Gosling shrugged, his wings ruffling at his sides. “It’ll be worth it.” His stride transitioned into a youthful swagger and he strutted as he moved along beside Celestia.
“And, pray tell, what makes you so confident that it will be worth it, my prancy little pegasus?” Celestia asked, her voice both strained and hopeful.
“The way I see it,” Gosling replied, “is that at the end of the day, when the sun has set and your duties are over, I’ll have you all to myself.” Gosling made a dramatic pause, waiting, allowing the tension to build, and he gave Celestia a sidelong glance. “And when I have you to myself, I’m going to have my head between your thighs and you’re going to be screaming my name loud enough for all of Canterlot to hear. Let the papers spin that.” Gosling’s voice boomed through the battlements and his youthful cockiness was impossible to ignore.
Celestia froze in place, almost stumbling from her abrupt stop. The white alicorn had a full body blush that made her turn a lurid shade of pink in the silvery moonlight. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, and her full body blush intensified.
There was a ‘pomf!’ sound followed by a supersonic crack as Celestia’s wings shot out from her sides. Gosling ducked, hitting the deck and avoiding a potential fatality, evading an embarrassing death caused by an aroused alicorn’s ballistic wingboner.
Celestia’s wings were so rigid that she was unable to even fan herself so that she might cool off. She stood there, making little muffled whimpering sounds while Gosling picked himself up from the stone walkway and began to dust himself off.
From elsewhere on the stone battlements, giggling could be heard, along with snotty sounding sniffle-snorts. The sounds of sobbing had vanished, replaced by an almost fillyish giggling, which was joined by rough, masculine laughter.
Gosling smiled, feeling better about himself, and Cadance’s voice could be heard echoing through the courtyard, “Private Gosling, you had better be a pony of your word!”
Feeling hot and flustered, Celestia watched as Gosling pranced away from her, his hooves clattering upon the stone of the central courtyard. He moved in ways that made her body react, his youthful vigour evident in every step. She glanced over at Cadance, who looked puffy eyed and troubled, but she was smiling. Gosling was a shameless, terrible flirt, and for this, Celestia was thankful. Cadance, the embodiment of love, could be hurt because of her love, but also mended by it. The papers had wounded her, but Gosling had soothed her ruffled feathers.
Night Light stood near, the suggestion of a smile still upon his muzzle.
As Celestia stood watching, Gosling lept over the edge of the fountain and landed in the water with a splash. With total disregard for the rules, the pegasus colt began to cavort in the fountain, stomping in the water, soaking himself, and very much behaving like a bird in a birdbath.
Celestia took a step forwards, uncertain of what to do next. There were rules… precious rules. One of those rules was that one did not play in the fountain. Many a student had received a demerit for splashing in the courtyard fountain.
“Gosling, come out of that fountain at once,” Celestia said, almost choking as she swallowed her laughter so she could maintain her serious mien. She battled against her own quivering lips, hoping that they would not betray her. “Private Gosling, to my side at once!”
Much to Celestia’s consternation, Gosling let out a warbling whistle as he continued to bathe in the fountain, and he gave her a bold, defiant look. She stomped her hoof to let Gosling know she was serious, then said again. “Gosling, come out of that fountain!”
She took several steps forwards, now biting on her lip to contain her laughter, watching as Gosling made a bold, risque display of wingspan, showing off his wet wings, the water droplets glittering like tiny diamonds in the moonlight. Celestia almost lost it altogether when she heard Cadance let go with an appreciative wolf whistle. She resolved to pull Cadance aside and have a word with her later. As she approached, Gosling’s head dipped down and he lowered his muzzle into the water. When he raised his head once more, his cheeks bulged and water trickled down his fuzzy, wet chin.
Celestia’s heart lept up into her throat. “Private Gosling, you wouldn’t dare…”
Gosling blinked and nodded his head. Water could be heard sloshing in his mouth as he looked up at Celestia, who towered over him. He flicked his tail and stood in stiff legged, cocky defiance, with one drenched ear drooping.
Celestia could hear snickering behind her. “Private Gosling, as adorable as you might be, do not make me destroy you—” Celestia’s words died when the jet of water hit her in the face, the cold shocking her into silence. She stared down at the cheeky little colt and watched as the water in his mouth streamed out from his pursed, puckered lips. At least the water was cool and refreshing.
Saying nothing else, Celestia lurched forwards, lept over the edge of the fountain, and landed inside with a splash, intent to make an example out of Private Gosling.
Upon returning to the small, cosy tea room, Gosling found Blueblood and Raven hunched over the table, a bottle of wine between them, and both of them appeared to be working. There was no sign of Luna or any of the others. As Gosling stood looking at Blueblood and Raven, Celestia sat down. It was just the four of them in the room together.
“The most common attack angle is his age,” Raven said as Gosling seated himself, “but Blueblood has a plan to counter that and silence the press.”
Gosling leaned forwards and his ears perked, showing his interest. Celestia rang a bell and Gosling startled a bit. Leaning over, he touched Celestia, who was still somewhat damp. She was warm to his touch, her pelt was velvet against his frogs, and her sides were still bellowing from her laughter.
“Gosling, forgive me for being so blunt, but have you had your bit mitzvah?” Blueblood turned his weary gaze upon Gosling. It had been a long day and it showed on Blueblood’s face.
“Nephew, what are you planning?” Celestia asked before Gosling could reply.
“I plan to use political correctness and the fear of cultural discrimination against the press,” Blueblood replied. He opened his mouth to say more, but Raven butted in.
“Blueblood’s plan is really quite simple.” Raven took a deep breath and let everything out, all in one go. “As you know, there is some discrimination against the first tribes. They have preserved a different way of life, a different way of doing things, they have different cultural standards. By first tribe standards, a colt is an adult at the age of fourteen, when he’s had his bit mitzvah. They go by sevens, as I am sure you know. The ages of seven, fourteen, and twenty one are all milestones in their lives, and each comes with a special celebration. Equestria’s own laws are based upon those of the first tribes, which is why we allow military applicants in at the age of fourteen.” Raven sucked in another deep breath. “Blueblood is going to suggest that any insulting remarks about Gosling’s age are really just discrimination against the first tribes with the hope that the press will turn on each other in a frenzy of political correctness. Nopony will dare say anything out of the fear of being labeled as a bigot.”
“I don’t like this.” Celestia’s lips pressed into a straight line. “I do not agree with this at all. This feels wrong somehow. This is encouraging my little ponies to turn upon one another, to potentially do harm to one another.”
Gosling’s gaze turned hard and he focused his eyes upon Blueblood. “Do you think it will make a difference?”
Hearing Gosling’s words, Blueblood’s eyes widened. The prince leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath, and let it out in a huff. Blueblood glanced at his aunt, then his eyes lingered upon the wine bottle. He tapped on the edge of the table with his hoof, blinked, then nodded.
“Political correctness has reached fever pitch. Many of the media outlets are obsessed with it. Everything is spun for political correctness. Public shaming for being politically incorrect has shown to be quite effective. It has even made the nobles heel”—pausing, Blueblood blinked—“although, I must say, most of the nobles are quiet, well mannered homebody types. They stopped being a real problem quite some time ago. It fell out of fashion to be scandalous.”
“We have to do something,” Raven said in a pleading voice. “We have to do some kind of damage control. If we can silence the press about Gosling’s age, that will be one less angle of attack.”
“This feels wrong.” Celestia lifted her head high and glanced at the door, hoping that tea would soon arrive. “But it isn’t my decision to make.” Celestia turned to look at Gosling. “This is your call. I will leave this choice with you, Gosling. Only time will tell if this is a poor decision or a stroke of genius. Choose wisely. This affects your future… and do try to think about how this might affect others.”
“I’ve already sent a dispatch to the First Tribes Anti-Defamation League,” Blueblood admitted in a small voice. “I used a discreet messenger and sent a message to somepony I trust who works within the agency. We’ll be hearing from them soon, I think.”
“That’ll help me make a well informed decision.” Gosling’s neck bowed, almost as if some great weight was pressing down upon him. He stared down at the table and his ears splayed out sideways, making him look weary.
Truth be told, he was weary. It had been a long day. Before Gosling could stop it from happening, a yawn escaped. He looked up and saw Blueblood staring at him. It was impossible to read Blueblood’s face, it was just a blank mask that offered no emotion—no tells. Blueblood was playing the game, at least at the moment.
“Only a few of the major players weighed in on the issue,” Raven said as she lifted up the wine bottle in her magic. She took a pull, her cheeks bulging, and swallowed. Wiping her mouth with her foreleg, she continued, “The really big papers are probably doing more digging. They’ll weigh in with their opinions. We’re bound to have some supporters in the big outlets, and tomorrow, a lot of the smaller publications will also have their say. I think that the small, independent outlets will be our finest allies.”
“The morning edition is also when you’re expecting the worst to happen,” Gosling said to Raven, unable to summon his game face. He worried that she might start twisting his ears, which were still tender from earlier. “If the smaller publications are kind to us, I say we need to start giving them exclusive access. Make friends.”
“That’s a dangerous game.” As Blueblood spoke, he tugged the wine bottle away from Raven. “A very dangerous game indeed.” He took a drink of wine and then belched while pounding his barrel.
“Let me make friends with them.” Gosling lifted his head and rested his forelegs upon the table. “Let me do what I do… deal with all sorts of ponies as part of my day to day job as a communications specialist. I do a lot more than just occupy the telegraph bench.”
“We have ourselves a go getter,” Raven said, sighing as she spoke the words.
“I know it is early to bring this up, but we need to start planning for a gala.” Blueblood grimaced, his jaw clenching and his body shuddered. “This wine is awful. Oh stars, Raven did you just try to poison me with a cheap and fruity Merlot?”
“A gala,” Celestia said, rolling her eyes and then glancing at the door once more.
“A gala so your consort can announce his intentions.” Raven ignored Blueblood’s dramatic theatrics and offered no reactions when his eyes rolled back into his skull and he went still, appearing to be quite dead in his chair. Looking Celestia in the eye, Raven said, “‘Tis a pity that Blueblood has died, but in death, he will have stiffness I craved from him in life.”
“Hey!” Blueblood whined in a nasal voice as he jerked his head up. His face turned red as the ponies around the table all started to laugh. “You never had it so good!”
“Blueblood, with you, I can never tell if it’s half full or half empty—”
“Raven!” Celestia covered her mouth with a hoof and tried to withhold her laughter. A tear rolled down Celestia’s cheek. “Must you you two be so awful to one another?”
“We have to stay in top form,” Raven replied, blinking her wide, innocent looking eyes at Celestia. “He’s my sparring partner. He gives as good as he gets. We have the perfect relationship.”
“No thanks to Cadance,” Blueblood grumbled.
“Cadance brought you together?” Gosling asked.
“Yes,” Blueblood and Raven replied together.
“But we cannot reveal our relationship due to complications.” Blueblood scowled and shook his head. “So I am forced to act the part of the elusive, out of reach playboy, the rich, snobby jerk that no mare is good enough for.”
“And I must remain the devoted secretary that is married to her job.” Raven lifted up the wine bottle and began guzzling down the contents.
“I don’t get it,” Gosling said, shaking his head.
“Conflicts of interest, professionalism, a variety of issues,” Blueblood replied with a dismissive wave of his hoof. “It isn’t easy being a royal. Shining Armor didn’t understand it either, not back then, but he understands it now. Our lives are not our own.”
The door to the room opened and Blueblood watched with a wary eye as an old mare came into the room, pushing a tea trolley in front of her. The sweet, fragrant, nose tingling scent of tea and cinnamon filled the room. Gosling’s head whipped about and a pendulous ribbon of drool dangled from the corner of his mouth as his nostrils flared.
“Oh, yuck!” Celestia yanked a napkin from the trolley as it drew nearer and began wiping Gosling’s face, trying to scrub the dangling, swinging string of slobber away.
The old mare sighed and shook her head. “Pegasi. Such visceral creatures. Get them excited and they start drooling.”
“Or you find them in the birdbath,” Raven said in a knowing voice.
“That’s tribalist!” Gosling retorted as he tried to pull his muzzle free from Celestia’s efforts.
“I’m married to a pegasus,” the old unicorn mare said as she turned her wary, weary gaze upon Gosling. “After being married to him for almost forty years, I can make a few safe assumptions about pegasi.”
Gosling, now free of the napkin, stared at the old mare, or tried to, his eyes looking down at the cinnamon buns piled up on a tray. He licked his lips and tried not to drool, as that would just be embarrassing at this point.
“Some part of him is always real happy to see me and he drools.” The old mare set the teapot out on the table. “Some part of him is always drooling.” The mare began setting out teacups, creamer pots, and sugar bowls. “Almost forty years in, and he still tries to show off his wingspan every chance he gets. What is it with pegasi and their wingspan? I never did get that.” The old mare blinked. “And mirrors… why is it that a pegasus can’t pass a mirror without puffing up and showing off their wings to their reflections?”
Gosling’s face darkened and he slumped down in his chair. “You wouldn’t understand.” They just wouldn’t understand the age old question, ‘who’s a pretty pony?’ It was a question, perhaps the question, that might provide the meaning of life.
The old mare lifted up three cinnamon buns off of the tray, placed them on a plate, and set them in front of Gosling. She hummed to herself as she finished serving tea, her head bobbing, and then her eyes went wide as she remembered something within the tea trolley’s lower cabinet. Grinning, she opened the cabinet and pulled out whole bunch of little quartered sandwiches. She set the platter down upon the table, bowed her head, and then began to wheel the tea trolley out.
She stopped at the door, turning her head so that she could look at Gosling and Celestia. She cleared her throat and smiled when she saw that Gosling already had half of a cinnamon bun in his mouth.
“My mother told me not to marry him. She said he was too flighty. ‘Pegasi are too much like birds,’ she said.” The old mare’s ears stood up straight. “She said to marry a good sensible earth pony or another unicorn. I’m glad I didn’t listen to my mother. He’s been my best friend and the love of my life. He preens those wings of his for me. He struts for me… he makes me feel like a princess. It’s worth the drooling and trying to pull him out of any water that he finds.” Smiling, the old mare pushed her way out the door, which closed behind her with a click.
Turning her head away from the door, Celestia looked over at Gosling. Lowering her head, she leaned over and kissed him upon the cheek, then sat up, her affectionate gaze never leaving him as he gobbled down his cinnamon bun.
“Stuff like that always makes me feel better about life,” Raven said as she levitated herself some sandwich quarters over. “It makes me feel better about all of the bickering and fighting. It makes everything worth it.” Raven’s stomach gurgled and she crammed a whole quarter sandwich into her mouth.
“This is why we do what we do.” Looking disgusted, Blueblood wiped away some mustard from the corner of Raven’s mouth.
Raven swallowed and as Celestia poured herself some tea, she looked over at Gosling, who was working on his third cinnamon bun already. “Tomorrow, I need you on active duty again. Be ready by dawn. Be well rested. I’m putting you to work. We can’t have the press thinking that we have another lazy, roustabout prince just lounging around the castle.”
Mouth full, Gosling nodded.
“Don’t worry, I won’t work you to death, tomorrow is just for show. But I need you in armor and ready to make deliveries. It will be good to make it appear that you are working. Prepare to have every eye in Equestria watching you.”
Gosling nodded again.
Leaning over, Celestia kissed Gosling on the cheek a second time, unable to resist being affectionate. After hearing the old mare, Celestia was in a loving mood. “But the only eyes that matter are mine, never forget that, my little cockerel...”
There was a commotion in the castle. In the grey hours before the dawn, Gosling made his way to where he was supposed to meet Raven. The castle staff were in a tizzy, but Gosling wasn’t sure why. Decorations were going up. The main hall was being prepared for something. A gala? Something was going on, and Gosling was in the dark.
“You there,” Gosling said to a passing maid who walked with a porter. “What is going on?”
“You don’t know?” the maid replied.
Gosling shook his head.
“Today there is going to be a big press release to announce that Princess Celestia is taking a consort.” The maid smiled and shifted upon her hooves. “So much to do, I’m so nervous!”
Gosling, who appeared to be a white pegasus at the moment, was glad that he wasn’t being noticed. “I thought the press release was yesterday.”
“Oh, that was the small press release with the official castle correspondents.”
There was a spine tingling chill that permeated his body as his blood ran cold. Gosling swallowed as he stared at the unicorn maid. For a moment, he thought about throwing up. He felt nauseous, light headed, and his stomach began to churn. Throwing up seemed like an excellent idea.
“Today is the big press release, open to all members of the press. There’ll be food and everything, and dancing.” The maid’s ears drooped. “You must forgive me, but I really must be going. There is so much to do!”
The maid hurried off, and the porter followed. Gosling came to the slow realisation that he had been duped. Raven had duped him. He was now dressed up in his armor again, and ready for a press release. That mare was entirely too good at her job. There was a lesson to be learned here, but Gosling wasn’t certain what it was. There was the possibility that even with his supposed intelligence, he had himself a bad case of the stupids.
“Private Gosling—”
Recognising the voice, Gosling snapped to attention at once, the straps and brass buckles of his armor jangling.
“At ease, soldier, you’re going to have a hard enough day.”
“Sergeant Circinus, glad to see you, Sir.” Gosling remained at attention. “What brings you here?”
“You,” the sergeant replied.
“Me, Sir?” Gosling tried to go as rigid as possible.
The older sergeant took a step forwards and looked Gosling in the eye. “I always knew that you had that little extra something about you. Your mother raised you right.” Circinus began to chuckle and his wings twitched against his sides. “Private, you have ponies in your corner. The signal corps looks after its own. I’m damn glad that Princess Celestia picked one of us, it makes all of us look good. I wanted to wish you the best of luck.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I have always believed that you were officer material, which is why I put you in command and communications courses after you graduated from prep camp. It seems the rest of the world is finally seeing what I saw in you way back when.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
The sergeant took a step back and his armor rattled from his movements. He saluted, whipping out his wing, and gave Private Gosling a solemn nod. “Ex Ignis Amicitiae!”
Gosling felt his throat go tight. The sacred motto of the signal corps in the old tongue from an age now long forgotten. From Fire, Friendship. Gosling remembered his lessons, knowing that one of the first forms of long distance communications for the guard was smoke signals and fires lit along strategic locations. “Sir, Ex Ignis Amicitiae, Sir!”
“Son, you’d better hurry. Raven gets downright ill if one of us is late. Go on now, and do your job.” Circinus saluted once more, this time a more relaxed and jaunty salute. “Where there’s smoke, there’s one of us. Good luck, Gosling.”
His barrel swelling with pride, Gosling gave his sergeant a nod and matched his jaunty salute, returning it with a grin.
The sun was rising. Gosling wasn’t sure how or why, but he could feel it now. It was a most peculiar sensation and he had no idea why he was now aware of it. He felt it like some pleasant warmth in his bones. Energised by the festive atmosphere that was building up, Private Gosling strutted as he made his way to Raven. Life was good. Even if today was going to be a double dipped disaster. The big press release and finding out the results of the morning editions? That was going to be bad. But he was going to face disaster while looking good.
A steam heated buffet table was being wheeled into a dining room. Behind it, a cart filled with dishes and tableware was being pulled along by a stout earth pony mare. Gosling waved, being polite. Be polite to ponies that work, his mother had said, and then had poked him with her hoof several times to get the message to sink in. Never be unkind to workers, waitresses, waiters, servers, servants, shoe shiners, or anypony that went home tired, stinky, and worn out. In short, never be unkind to ponies like his mother. It was a lesson he had taken to heart.
Rounding the corner, he heard somepony not being polite. His ears perked. Some distance away, he heard a scuffle. He paused, freezing mid step. He had someplace to be. Somepony else would take care of the trouble. Gosling took a step and froze up again as he tried to remember the times that somepony had come to his rescue in secondary school when he was being bullied. He wondered if his schoolmates just assumed that somepony else would come along and help. That somepony would do something. Gosling had himself an epiphany, he had been having those with an alarming frequency as of late. This is what was wrong with the world. Everypony just assumed that somepony else would take care of something and then they would go about their lives, never stepping in to stop trouble when it happened. Too many ponies just turned away and allowed trouble to happen.
Turning, Gosling went looking for trouble.
“Excuse me.”
Gosling’s voice had just the effect he was hoping for. The unicorn Gosling was looking at ceased what he was doing and turned to face him. One frazzled looking earth pony with a swollen eye began to back away, taking advantage of the distraction.
“There seems to be some sort of problem here,” Gosling said as he took a step forwards. “I don’t like problems on my watch. Do you know how much paperwork I have to fill out if there are problems on my watch? It’s unbelievable.”
“No trouble here,” the unicorn said, giving Gosling a wary stare. “I was just offering a few… professional pointers to my colleague here.”
It was at this point that Gosling decided that he didn’t like the unicorn. Not at all. His eyes narrowed and he drew himself up to his full height. “I have an idea… how about I ask him what was going on, and why his eye is swelling, and we can sort everything out once he’s had his say.”
“How about you just get out of here and go and do your job someplace else, buckethead?” The unicorn’s lip curled back into a sneer.
Refusing to be baited, Gosling did not react. He stood there, resolute, his jaw clenching as he bit back an angry retort. Gosling did have to agree with the little pegasus in the back of his mind that was spoiling for a fight that the unicorn would indeed look pretty funny trying to eat corn on the cob with no teeth. Gosling smiled.
“How about I have you ejected from the castle, and you can do your job someplace else?” Gosling inhaled, filling his barrel, and then let out a long streaming whistle, a whistle that every guard spends hours practicing.
It only took moments to hear the sounds of approaching armor.
“You dense motherplucker, do you know who I am?” the unicorn demanded.
Still refusing to be baited, Gosling swallowed his rage, letting the quip about his mother slide. He could feel the metal along his neck and back grow warmer as his fury heated his blood. “I don’t think you know who I am.” Gosling banged on the gemstone mounted on the front of his armor with his hoof. There was a flash and the uniformity spell vanished. “Care to take a guess?”
The unicorn scowled and started to say something, but stayed silent as several guards poured into the area. He glared at Gosling with outright hatred visible in his eyes. The tension in the air grew.
“I want this pony arrested at once on the following charges; assault and causing a disturbance.” Gosling allowed a little smug satisfaction to show in his smile. “I would also like to have him permanently barred from the castle—”
“You can’t do that!” the unicorn snapped, “that’ll destroy my career!”
“He is to be permanently barred from the castle, never to return. I will not have journalists bringing harm to one another. Time to send a message that we are to remain civilised ponies.”
The guards surrounded the unicorn, who offered no resistance. One of the guards said, “Come along quietly,” and while the unicorn was cooperating, he was not in the mood to be quiet.
“You’ll regret this… I know who you are… I can make your life miserable, just you wait! I don’t think you understand who you’re messing with, you little—OOAAUGHOOF!”
A guard rammed an armored hoof into soft flesh just behind the unicorn’s ribs, silencing the unicorn and dropping him to the floor. The pony lay in a heap, gasping, struggling to get air into his lungs after having the wind knocked out of him.
“You were told to come along quietly,” the heavy hitting guard said with a chuckle.
“Threatening Princess Celestia’s future consort has now brought additional charges,” another guard said. “You’re in big trouble, bub. Prepare your cornhole.”
As the now gasping unicorn was being dragged away, Gosling went over to the earth pony to check on him. He stepped over the spilled notebooks and gave the trembling stallion a warm, gracious smile to put him at ease.
“Are you okay?” Gosling asked when he was but a step away. His ears perked at the sounds of somepony trying to suck in wind as they were being dragged over the floor. “Do you have a name? What happened?”
“My name is Seville Orange,” the earth pony replied as he watched his tormentor being dragged away. “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you.”
Seville was thin, slight of build, a skinny, gangly earth pony with a yellow-orange pelt and his mane was the colour of well dried hay. He was all legs and had bright, cheerful green eyes.
“Don’t mention it,” Gosling replied. “What just happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”
Seville began to try and scoop up his things from off of the floor and Gosling moved to help him. Notebooks, some papers, a few pens, and… one broken camera. Gosling lifted it in his wings, eyeing it, and he felt bad that he had not arrived sooner. Perhaps the black eye and the broken camera might have been avoided.
“I arrived early so I could get myself set up,” Seville said as he saw his broken camera. He let out a dismayed sigh and shook his head as his ears drooped down to the sides of his face. “I’m an earth pony. It’s almost impossible to be a good reporter as an earth pony. We can’t fly, so we can’t get pictures or scoops from the air, and we don’t have magic, which allows unicorns to see through walls or teleport a camera into a room, or do all those things that a unicorn can do.”
“Sounds rough.” Gosling nodded his head as Seville stuffed a notebook into his saddlebags. “Sounds like you have to work twice as hard”—Gosling paused to correct himself—“three times as hard as everypony else just to get noticed.”
“You have no idea,” Seville replied and then let heave a sigh. “I only got the job as a joke I think. Everypony laughs at me. I was counting on today… I was hoping that I would have something… I should have never left the orange farm.”
“Don’t give up just yet,” Gosling said as he held the broken camera beneath his wing. “Just who was that festering, pestilent genital wart, anyway?”
Seville let out a nervous, halfhearted chuckle, and then eyed Gosling, not quite sure what to think. “That was Palatino Palomino, and he made it his personal mission to see that I fail. I don’t think he likes earth ponies. He says that we have no place in journalism and we have nothing to offer. He kept telling me to go back to the farm, where I belong.”
“Mister Orange, if you would please come with me,” Gosling said, not liking what he was hearing. He had an idea. Gosling had a wonderful idea.
Nervous, Seville began to tremble.
“Oh, try not to worry, I want to help you.” Gosling smiled. “Let’s get the rest of this cleaned up and then I’ll see what I can do to make sure you have a productive day.”
“Thank you… I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”
“Gosling.” Lifting a pen with his primaries, he held it out to Seville. “My name is Private Gosling, at your service.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Gosling.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Gosling replied, bowing his head and remembering that he now represented Princess Celestia with everything he did. “Mister Orange… I do believe that your life is about to get a whole lot better. I have need of you, Mister Orange.”
“—and that is everything that happened,” Gosling said, explaining why he was late to Raven as he stood at attention. “There is an opportunity to cultivate an ally in the press. I have been paying attention in my communications courses. I now have the means to control the flow of information flowing out.”
Raven’s eyes narrowed and she took a step forwards, getting so close that her nose bumped into Gosling’s. “Let me get this straight, Private Gosling, you wish to take Seville Orange here as your personal press correspondent?”
“Mister Orange is an earth pony. He can’t fly or use magic. Allowing him to be my personal press correspondent would give him the advantage he needs to succeed in his work. I am certain that Mister Orange will be most grateful for a golden opportunity and would never do anything to jeapordise his standing as an official castle correspondent. It is a mutually beneficial relationship for both parties.”
Raven backed away from Gosling and approached Seville Orange. She eyed him, leaning over and staring up at his blackened, swollen eye. She walked in a circle around him, going over every inch of him with a critical eye. She paused when she saw his cutie mark. Not one muscle on Raven’s face betrayed her as she stared.
“Is that an orange press?” Raven asked.
“Yes it is,” Seville replied.
“That is an orange press, for making juice.” Raven’s ears stood up. “A juice press.”
“I decided that I didn’t want to press oranges, I wanted to join the press.”
Raven cleared her throat. “How old are you, Seville?”
“Seventeen, Ma’am.” A bead of sweat rolled down Seville’s brow.
“And you just left the farm one day and came to Canterlot to be a reporter?”
“Yes Ma’am, I did.” Seville gulped.
“Am I to understand that you have tried to re-interpret your cutie mark?” Raven asked in a low voice as she took a step closer to Seville and began to apply pressure. She was going to squeeze this orange, that was for certain.
“I haven’t tried to do anything.” Seville stared straight ahead as more sweat trickled down his face. “I am my own pony. I make my own destiny. I make my own luck. I believe that hard work gets rewarded and that your cutie mark has nothing to do with your success in life. I am an earth pony. I might not have magic, and I can’t fly, but I can do hard work.”
“Do you understand the opportunity you are being offered?” Raven asked in a low, gritty voice, her lips now just inches away from Seville’s twitching ear.
“Yes I do.”
Raven’s eyes narrowed and she raised her left hoof, drawing it up to her barrel and standing on three legs. “And Mister Orange, do you understand what will happen if you betray the trust that Private Gosling is offering you?”
“I understand that I am being offered a once in a lifetime opportunity and this opportunity will give me a career as a reporter.” A rivulet of sweat rolled down Seville’s cheek. The earth pony took a deep breath and gave Raven a sidelong glance, but he did not dare to turn his head to look at her. “I know that I am a nopony fresh off of the farm and I know that castle correspondents are usually seasoned reporters with many years under their hats.”
“You’ve had no schooling,” Raven said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“No I haven’t,” Seville replied in a quavering voice.
“We cannot have a credentialed correspondent that has no formal education—”
Seville let out a whimper and his ears drooped.
“—so if you wish to have this position, you must go to school. If you need assistance, I can make arrangements. I look after my friends. Do you want to be my friend, Mister Orange?” Raven glanced over at Gosling, then her eyes glanced back to Seville. She looked up at Seville’s ears, which were now standing back up in an almost hopeful manner. “But a smart pony such as yourself doesn’t need school to realise that you work for us and not for whatever paper has you in their stable of reporters.”
Seville nodded, his head bobbing up and down with great enthusiasm as his ears flapped.
“I think we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement of friendship, Mister Orange. One of my assistants will be returning your camera shortly. I am positive that he can fix it, and if he can’t, well, I think we have a camera around here somewhere. Be on your best behaviour today, Mister Orange.”
Seville let out a whimper of relief as Raven stepped away from him. The orange had been squeezed, and sweat fell like juice droplets. He sucked in a deep breath, held it, and let it out in a slow huff of relief.
“Private Gosling, do not be late ever again, or I will have you disciplined. Harshly.” Raven’s brows furrowed as she invaded Gosling’s space once more. Again she stood muzzle to muzzle with the colt. Raven breathed on Gosling, who stood stock still at attention, ignoring her tickling breath upon him. “Private Gosling, I have a batch of official dispatches that need to be delivered within the hour. Please see to them at once.”
Raven stepped away, paused, and then turned her steely gaze upon the colt standing at attention. “I am pleased with how this has worked out. You have done well, Private Gosling. I will be informing Princess Celestia of your serendipitous actions this morning. She will be pleased.” Raven nodded. “That is all, you are dismissed, Private Gosling.”
Turning, Raven faced Seville Orange once more. “You however, I wish to continue to talk to you, so that I might know more about you, Mister Orange… friends must get to know one another...”
Closing her eyes, Celestia enjoyed a rare moment of being pampered. Twilight Velvet ran a curry comb over her pelt and the soft touch soothed Celestia’s aching, twitching muscles. The middle aged mare with young eyes sat beside Celestia, smiling, her eyes were bright and merry.
“Twilight will be here soon,” Twilight Velvet said as she ran the curry comb along Celestia’s spine. “She is a little frazzled. It has been a lot of work to prepare for the opening of her school. I hope today will not be stressful for her. She needs a little time to unwind.”
“I think we could all use a little time to unwind,” Celestia replied as she almost melted.
“My work is just beginning.” Twilight Velvet’s smile grew wider. “It is good work though, and I am glad to do it.” She ran the comb over the area just between Celestia’s wings, trying to smooth out the whorls of hair on Celestia’s pelt. “Ready for your big day?”
“You make it sound like I’m getting married,” Celestia said to Twilight Velvet. “It’s just a press conference, nothing more.”
“I’m starting to lose hope in my little Twily getting married any time soon.” Twilight Velvet’s smile became a frown and she heaved a maternal sigh. “She’s oblivious to the very idea it seems. Or maybe she’s just hiding a suitor away and doing such a fine job that none of us know about it. If that’s the case, I don’t see how she is fooling Cadance.”
Celestia opened her eyes and looked at the mare brushing her.
“A mother has wants and needs. Her foals grow up and the house feels empty.” Twilight Velvet heaved a sigh and shook her head. When Twilight Velvet spoke again, her voice was thick and gritty with emotion. “Having Flurry around makes it even harder. She’s there for a while and then gone again. They say that’s the best part of being a grandparent… you get to spoil your grandfoals and then send them home, no hard work involved. I don’t want to send little Flurry home.”
Blinking, Celestia watched as Twilight Velvet’s eyes misted over.
“Listen to me, carrying on.” The mare offered up a brave smile and then began to hum as she continued brushing.
As she started to say something, Celestia felt a catch in her throat. She let out a demure, polite cough, swallowed, and tried again. “Velvet, as I am sure you know, in the near future, I might become a mother”—Celestia’s own voice sounded strange to her, almost croaking, her own emotions at the moment were almost too much to bear—“perhaps I am putting the cart in front of the pony, but I think it is safe to assume that such a thing is inevitable.” Celestia swallowed again, trying to get the enormous lump out of her throat. “Velvet, what I am trying to say is, well, Gosling has his mother and she’ll make a fine grandmother, but one grandmother is never enough…”
It became far more difficult to speak when Celestia saw tears streaming down Twilight Velvet’s cheeks, but Celestia kept going, knowing there was no stopping now. “I would be honoured if you would stand in as the grandmother to my foals. I would be proud to have them recognise you as such.”
The only reply from Twilight Velvet was a gasp. The curry comb fell from her telekinetic field and the middle aged mare lunged for Celestia. She collided with a muffled, well padded whump! and wrapped her forelegs around Celestia’s neck. Squeezing her eyes shut, Twilight Velvet began sobbing.
Closing her eyes, Celestia allowed herself to be held, treasuring this precious moment.
Trotting beside Princess Celestia, Raven entered into the main hall. Princess Celestia’s coat had been brushed to an extraordinary finish, making her look almost pearlescent. It was almost as if she glowed with her own inner luminessence. She looked perfect, flawless, the princess looked magnificent. Raven looked frumpy, as she always looked frumpy, because a frumpy assistant made the princess look even better by comparison.
It was not a formal enough event for a gown—but more formal events would be coming later. Raven looked around the room, looking at the various members of the gathered press. Most were mooches, reporters here for the free food, the entertainment, and later, the open bar.
Blueblood was in his position and Raven felt her heart skip a beat. He looked so snide, so sarcastic, so perfect, just sitting there with his eyebrow arched, looking disgusted by everything around him. Shining Armor stood near a table loaded down with breakfast foods, talking to several reporters while munching on a pink frosted donut. Princess Cadance was examining the floral bouquets, taking time to stop and sniff the flowers, as the old saying went. There was no sign of Twilight. Raven felt the first faint pangs of real worry. She suspected that Celestia also noticed Twilight’s absence, as she heard a faint gasp from the white alicorn walking beside her.
No sign of Private Gosling, but he was accounted for. Raven knew his exact location due to his armor. He was doing his job and would return soon. When he returned, he would be properly disheveled, a bit sweaty, and run down—a working member of the guard who had duties, even on momentous days like this one.
Raven heard laughter and turned her head. Flurry Heart was out on the floor, standing near Night Light. The foal was giggling as her picture was being taken. Who had invited the little disaster? Raven felt a moment of real, genuine panic.
What if Flurry had a surge and disintegrated somepony? That would be bad. That would be very bad. Raven looked around the room and noted the many members of the press. Okay, maybe not so bad. Maybe not bad at all. It might even be a good thing. Raven pushed the thoughts from her mind and made herself pay attention so she could do her job.
There was a collective gasp from most of the ponies present when Twilight Sparkle entered the room. Twilight looked more than a little frazzled. Her mane was a bit messy, her eyes were bloodshot, and she appeared to have been pulling an all nighter, the next day, and then the next night as well. Raven made a mental note to find an excuse to get Twilight out of the press conference and into a private room as soon as possible before something awful happened.
Twilight and the press didn’t get along very well and a sleep deprived Twilight Sparkle was a dangerous Twilight Sparkle. Raven watched as Twilight made a beeline for Flurry Heart and her father, making very silly faces as she approached her niece, trying to make her giggle. Several flashbulbs went off.
Twilight froze, mid step, and Raven felt a growing sense of alarm. Beside her, she heard Celestia gasp and Night Lights sharp inhalation could be heard through the entire room. Somepony had just invited disaster.
“Hey, you print that in the paper and make up some nonsense about me, and I will absolutely wreck you, just like I wrecked Tirek, you little piece of—”
It was too late, somepony had aroused the ire of Twilight Sparkle, Equestria’s friendliest princess... Raven sighed and prepared herself for cleanup.
Stepping through the doors, sweaty, disheveled, and wind battered, Gosling took a deep breath. A powerful headwind had challenged him the entire flight back from Ponyville. He suspected that Raven was responsible. Why he had to deliver an official dispatch to Bon Bon the candy maker was a mystery that he could no longer think about at the moment, as every eye in the room was now on him.
Gosling blinked as his picture was taken.
“Private Gosling, back from your rounds?” Raven’s voice carried through the room with practiced ease and she didn’t even need a microphone or magical amplification. A smile spread over her muzzle, a slow creeping smile, slow like jam over bread.
“No,” Gosling replied, keeping as straight faced as possible. “I never left… I was snooping in Prince Blueblood’s room this whole time, looking at his collection of lacy unmentionables. I didn’t know they made fishnet garters and a chastity crupper in his size.”
The room filled with stunned silence. Mouths hung open. The level of quiet was deafening. After a second, sound returned, the sounds of eyelids blinking, and that was the only sound to be heard.
Then there was a sarcastic laugh, followed by a slow clap. Blueblood sat on his haunches, clapping his front hooves together, his lip curled back in a vicious sneer. “Bravo, Private Gosling… bravo.” The slow clopping clap echoed through the room.
Some of the ponies in the room began snickering and chortling. One of those was Princess Celestia. Another was Raven. Gosling, feeling relieved, took a deep breath. Some of the press were laughing. It was, after all, Blueblood’s job to be disliked, so Gosling’s vicious jab was bound to be appreciated. Blueblood would probably congratulate him on it later.
“Private Gosling, do come over here,” Princess Celestia said in a warm, sweet voice. “I believe the press would like to have a picture of us together.”
Sweaty, windswept, and looking like he had just flown through a tornado, Gosling strutted over. There was no sense being shy about it. His tail probably looked like a total disaster. His feathers were all mussed. He squared his gaze upon Raven, and tried to give her a knowing glare. She had done this to him. This was her doing.
He stood before his princess and gave her a smile as he looked up. She was tall, regal, and majestic. She was slender in some places, curvy in others, tall, and something about her neck mashed all of the right buttons in Gosling’s brain. Celestia’s curving neck was spank bank material, that was for certain. He longed to rub his muzzle along her neck’s graceful curves, feeling the softness of her throat, the soft, warm throb of blood pulsing through her arteries. Maybe a little nibble down below her jaw, and then he could work his way up towards her ears. She had magnificent ears. He wondered what it would be like to whisper sweet nothings in her ears, his forelegs wrapped around her neck, as he draped his body over her back—
“Private Gosling, I have said your name three times now,” Princess Celestia said in a firm, commanding voice.
Gosling blinked. “I am sorry, but I was stricken by your exquisite beauty. I looked into your eyes and got lost.” He watched as Celestia’s face turned pink. “Do forgive your most humble servant, around you I cannot keep hold on my reason.” Celestia’s lower lip began to quiver and Gosling gave her a flirtatious wink.
“A perfect moment for a photo,” Blueblood suggested as he reached beneath the table with his left foreleg. He pulled out a stool and then laughed. He gave the stool a kick, sent it sliding over the floor, and his eyebrow rose when it came to a halt near Gosling. “Don’t worry Gosling, I’m having the finest highchair that money can buy crafted so you can see over the edge of the table at dinner time.”
Biting his lip, Gosling swallowed his laughter and looked at the stool. He was only somewhat aware of the flashbulbs going off. He looked up at Celestia, then back down at the stool. He understood the purpose of the stool—Celestia was far taller than he was. Plus, there was Blueblood’s quip about his age. Gosling saw opportunity to rise above his public humiliation—an act of course. But Gosling could use this to his advantage.
He nudged the stool over to Princess Celestia and then sat down beside it. He looked up at the princess, his princess, and cleared his throat. “Heart’s Dearest, while this isn’t the pedestal that you deserve, it is the best I could come up with on short notice. Would you allow me the honour of placing you upon it, so that I might worship you and bask in your glorious, heart stopping radiance?”
There were gasps from all around the room, including from Celestia.
Gosling pulled his helmet off and placed it upon the floor beside him, allowing his messy, mussed up mane to come spilling down. He gazed up at Celestia, his attention once again drawn to her neck. As he sat there, gazing up at her in adoration, Celestia stepped onto the stool, balancing upon it with regal grace, making herself even taller.
Reaching out his right front hoof, he grasped Celestia’s left foreleg and give it a tender squeeze in his fetlock. He lifted her gilded hoof and she balanced on her three remaining legs. Bowing his neck, he kissed her gilded shoe, and then began working his way up, leaving a trail of kisses as he went, his lips lingering upon her velvet leg. Eyes closed, he did not notice the flashbulbs going off all around him as the press went into a frenzy.
While there was some tension in the air, Gosling had to admit this was a far nicer experience than the first press conference. Official correspondents were bitter, jaded, and not at all impressed with being around the royals. These correspondents seemed a little bit shellshocked to be here, hanging out and having a swanky party. Most of them were nervous. For many, this was an event that could make or break their career.
He stood beside Princess Celestia as she spoke to a junior reporter, a rather polite unicorn stallion that wore glasses with thick, soda bottle lenses and a battered trilby hat. Gosling observed that there were some rules in place. While she was talking with one reporter, the others stayed back at a respectful distance.
When the bespectacled reporter was finished, he bowed his head, said, “Thank you,” and backed away. As he was backing away, another moved in to take his place, but did so without running or appearing to be in a hurry. One had to approach to ask a question, but do so in a polite manner without trampling others.
This reporter, also a unicorn, was a mare. She had aged young, her eyes were a bit red, she had enough bags under her eyes to go to the Crystal Empire on an extended vacation, and her back sagged a bit.
“Princess Celestia,” the reporter said, “I was hoping I could ask a few questions that in no way relate to your consort.”
“I would be delighted,” Princess Celestia replied, glancing at Gosling as she spoke.
“I was wondering,” the tired mare began, “about the rising trade crisis. As we develop as a nation, our factory workers, in particular, those that work in fabric mills, demanded better wages for their work to keep up with the cost of living. Increased wages will mean that the cost of our goods will go up, which will in turn hurt our standing on the world market. Our exports will feel the sting of rising costs.” The mare paused and took a deep breath, then asked, “What plans are in place to deal with this issue?”
“Oh my,” Princess Celestia said to the reporter. “Well, to start, we’re going to have to accept that we’re going to lose certain types of manufacturing jobs. If wages are raised and the cost of our exports rises, and no buyer purchases them, those jobs are lost. The market determines job availability. I think many of our factories and much of our manufacturing sector will have to be repurposed to focus upon speciality goods and offer things other nations are ill equipped to make.”
“Most of the city of Manehattan is dependent upon the manufacturing of fabric, as it directly contributes to the city’s fashion industry. What will replace it?” The reporter’s pen scratched over her notebook and she never took her eyes off of Princess Celestia.
“Well, I think we can still make fabric in this country, but we shall have to move to full automation in clean, modern factories. As for what comes next, I don’t know. I believe the market will decide where we go. With Princess Twilight Sparkle’s education reforms and her war on illiteracy, our workforce is becoming more and more educated. So anything is possible. I believe we shall have a technical boom, but other analysts insist that we’ll manage with specialised manufacturing.”
“What about relaxing environmental restrictions so that we might increase our steel manufacturing and other forms of polluting industry?” the reporter asked.
Gosling felt his eyes glazing over, but he somehow looked interested and alert as he stood beside Princess Celestia. A part of his brain hated him at this moment as he realised that he was going to have to start paying attention to all of this stuff.
Princess Celestia cleared her throat. “The environment is a difficult juggling act. Industries must be held accountable for the pollution they create. We cannot leave this land bleak, barren, and poisoned. We’ve already seen some of the consequences of doing that.”
“Thank you,” the reporter replied as she scribbled some final words into her notebook and then closed it. “My name is April Greenleaf and I’m a reporter with Enviro-Conscious News. It was a pleasure to speak with you and I am relieved that you plan to protect our land.” The reporter turned to face Gosling and smiled. “You… you just keep being charming and I think you’ll be fine, handsome. Just remember to think green!”
The reporter bowed her head and began to back away, smiling as she retreated.
The entire room froze and let out a collective gasp as Princess Luna entered the hall. The Princess of the Night was holding an oversized mug of steaming coffee and she wobbled as she made her grand entrance. Just inside the door, she paused, took a sip of the muddy brew, and then with a lurch, she took off to be with her sister.
Following along behind her, Spike waved at the reporters who snapped his picture. Behind Spike, a somewhat angry looking Twilight Sparkle returned to the fray, and she cast her critical, downright hostile gaze upon any reporter that strayed too close.
Twilight Sparkle’s animosity towards the press was the stuff of legend. Twilight was not a hateful sort, by all accounts she was kind, gentle, she was the Princess of Friendship, but she had an open loathing of the press.
“Oh, Twilight,” Princess Celestia said to her former protégée, “Twilight, do come here… I have somepony I want you to meet.”
Twilight, who appeared glad for the distraction, made her way over to Princess Celestia, with various reporters scattering out of her way like chickens. As she moved, her head turned from one side to the other, her eyes darting to and fro as she kept an eye on the various members of the press, as if she was just daring them to do something stupid so she would have an excuse to lay into them.
As Twilight drew near, Princess Celestia smiled. “Twilight Sparkle, this is Gosling.” Celestia looked down at Gosling, her eyes gleaming with inner warmth. “Private Gosling, this is my former student, Twilight Sparkle.”
Drawing herself up to her full height, Twilight began to study Gosling. Feeling her eyes upon him, he snapped to attention and under her critical eye, he felt self conscious about his somewhat disheveled state. Rigid, he stared straight ahead, not quite sure what he could do to leave a good first impression.
After several tense moments, Twilight stepped closer to Princess Celestia, placed her wing alongside her mouth, and whispered to her former teacher, “You selected him as breeding stock, didn’t you?”
Both mares began giggling and Gosling, who remained at attention, staring straight ahead, felt his cheeks grow warm and his ears grew hot. He swallowed and listened to the sounds of Celestia and Twilight having a laugh together.
“It’s that pelt of his,” Celestia said in a conspiratorial whisper to Twilight. “And for his size, he has an impressive wingspan.”
Responding to Celestia, Twilight shook her head. “I still don’t get the fixation that pegasi have with wingspan… what’s the deal with that?”
“Oh, Twilight, there is nothing finer than looking at a nice pair of wings,” Celestia replied.
“But why? What is so attractive about them?” Twilight continued to shake her head.
Gosling was a neck pony himself. While he liked wings, something about the neck just did it for him. And Celestia had a neck. She had a marble column as a neck… no, she had an alabaster tower for a neck. Princess Celestia was the Princess of Necks. Which boded well for a good bit of necking. Gosling was snapped from his thoughts by Twilight.
“The whole wing thing is silly. They’re just wings. I don’t understand them as objects of sexual attraction. They’re more annoying than anything else. They require constant preening to keep them presentable. It gets stinky under there. And you have to worry about overheating as wings tend to act as insulators. I just don’t see the big deal.”
“Twilight… what am I to do with you?” Celestia said in a soft voice.
Gosling however, took matters into his own hooves. Sometimes, it was better to show than tell. He unfurled his wings, which were a bit out of sorts at the moment, he waved them around, angling them for the best possible display, and then, in a shameless display of raw, primal sexuality, he began to preen himself. He got ahold of a primary with his lips, got it damp, and then ran his lips along its length, leaving the feather smooth, glossy, and somewhat damp, his oily saliva leaving behind an almost rainbow sheen.
All around the room, POMF! sounds could be heard as Gosling continued his shameless display. Cameras flashed, capturing the downright pornagraphic imagery of the colt preening, his lips moving over his feathers in a slow, deliberate, almost teasing display of grooming.
Sleet, Gosling’s mother, had told her son to never preen himself in public. Nice colts didn’t do that. They did it in private. Good ponies preened in private and never made a public display. Showing off your wings was fine, provided it was done so in the right place at the right time. But preening? Doing that in public was dirty.
There were more POMF! sounds as various pegasi, both male and female, reacted to Gosling’s display of unbridled sexuality. There was a supersonic crack as Princess Luna’s wings shot out from her sides with hurricane force and she sprayed out a stream of rich brown coffee from her puckered lips.
More flashbulbs popped. Drinks were spilled. Ponies standing too close to pegasi got smacked. POMF!POMF!POMF! The sound could be heard all around the room. Even one of the guards posted near the door reacted, biting his lip as his wings betrayed him. POMF! Several ponies discovered something new about their sexuality, having an awakening.
Princess Cadance almost decapitated her husband when her wings sprang from her sides. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open in a perfect ‘O’ of shock and surprise. Cadance’s ears pitched forwards as she stared at Gosling’s perverse display.
Even Princess Celestia was not immune. There was a thunderous, deafening crack as her wings shot out from her sides and her pearlescent hide was beaded in sweat drops that shone like tiny diamonds. Her eyes narrowed and she too, bit down upon her lip as Gosling dragged another primary through his moistened lips.
Looking mortified, Twilight looked confused when her own wings sprang out from her sides. She stared at them in wide eyed horror, her whole body turning a darker shade of purple. Her mouth fell open and she shook her head as she backed away from Gosling.
There was a gasp from the doorway.
In the door, Sleet stood with Twilight Velvet. She stared at her son for a moment, looking stunned, then covered her eyes with her wings. “Oh, a mother could die! Gosling! Half the ponies in this room are shtupping you with their eyes! Stop before somepony schmears themselves! A pony could slip, fall, and break their neck in that mess!”
A low squeak escaped from Gosling’s mouth as he froze, a primary held in his lips. He blinked at the sound of his mother’s voice. This did not go as planned. He blinked again, still frozen.
“Gosling, don’t make me schlep you off to a private room so I can potch your little tuchus! Oh, a mother could just die from embarrassment!” Sleet cried in a nasal whine. “I brought you into this world and I can take you out! What have I told you about doing that in public? Oh, I can never show my face again! A mother could just die! Die!”
His primary slid from his mouth as Gosling pulled his head back, his movements slow and jerky. He heard snorting, a camera flashed again, and then the sound of Princess Celestia chortling filled his ears. The chortles became giggles as she could do nothing to hold them in, and then the giggles became guffaws of laughter as she lost it completely.
Cringing, Gosling could not look his mother in the eye, but he could feel her gaze of maternal disapproval burning into his flesh, like sunlight shining through a magnifying glass and down upon an ant. He stood, looking very meek, his head low, his ears drooping, trying to look as pathetic as possible so his mother wouldn’t get charged with his murder. Celestia was still laughing, she and Luna both, and tears streamed down their cheeks. Twilight was still confused by her own reaction and was having trouble folding her wings against her sides.
The room was still recovering. Twilight Velvet, Twilight Sparkle’s mother, walked around from place to place, clearing her throat, the corners of her mouth twitching, threatening to betray her, and she was unable to look in Gosling’s direction without choking. Spike followed along behind her, his sides bellowing as he laughed.
Many ponies had gone outside for a breath of fresh air, while others had vanished into the bathrooms. It was best not to think about what the ponies who had gone into the bathroom might be doing.
Cadance, a helpful sort, brought Gosling’s mother Sleet a strong mixed drink. After passing the drink to Sleet, Cadance turned, went to Gosling, lowered her head until her lips were inches away from Gosling’s ear, and said, “That was quite a display, Private Gosling. I think you’ve just endeared yourself to the nation, good work.”
The ice cubes in Sleet’s drink rattled as she held it in her primaries. “A mother could just die…” she muttered, shaking her head.
Gosling, who didn’t dare look at his mother yet, looked over at Blueblood instead. Blueblood was looking quite satisfied and smug. Truth be told, Gosling was feeling quite satisfied and smug. His ears perked as Blueblood chortled.
“Gosling, do you even know what you have done?” Blueblood asked in a low, snide voice.
“Shamed my mother?” Gosling replied, feeling his mother’s stare boring a hole into him.
Blueblood chuckled and tapped his front hooves together. “The press can’t have it both ways. If they claim you are too young, I get to claim they are placing perverse images of foals on their front pages for the sake of sexual exploitation. This is advantageous.”
Huh. Gosling stared at Blueblood. That was… something. “Blueblood…”
“Yes?”
“About my age and my status as an adult… that thing we spoke about… do it.”
Glancing over at Celestia, who was with Luna speaking to a reporter, Blueblood’s thin, pinched lips curled into a hideous, obscene parody of a smile. His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows formed a vicious ‘V’ of ecstatic evil.
“Gosling, what are you doing?” Sleet asked, looking worried.
Fearing that he had upset his mother enough for one day, Gosling decided it would be wise to spill his guts. “Ma, you know how I had my bit mitzvah, right? And now I am an adult?”
Sleet nodded. “I worked overtime and took on a few spare jobs to make sure you had a nice one. We went to see, what was it, ‘Abandon Your Wagon,’ that night I think. You sang the songs for a whole two weeks.”
“Yeah, Ma… here’s the thing. Blueblood has this plan that since I am an adult in the eyes of the First Tribes—”
“That any word spoken about you and your age in the papers would be a crack about the First Tribes?” Sleet blinked her pretty blue eyes and her face became expressionless. With a slow turn of her head, she turned her matronly stare upon Blueblood.
Ears drooping, Blueblood ducked his head, flinching from Sleet’s blank stare. Blueblood had lived long enough to be wise. He wanted no part of Sleet’s ire. She was motherhood equinified, then squared. Or something.
“I approve,” Sleet said in a low whisper. “I understand the necessity. Under every other circumstance, I would be against this, but my dear Gossy is going to be fighting an uphill battle every step of the way. Pull no punches. We can’t afford to play nice or play fair.”
“You approve?” Blueblood asked, blinking in disbelief.
“Twilight Velvet told me about the sort of stuff Shining Armor went though. We were talking about it when we came here… and then I found my son doing the unspeakable nasty.” Sleet’s voice became a little reedy near the end and far more nasal. “Oy vey, a mother could die.”
“I must confess, I am surprised that you would go along with this.” Blueblood’s ears stood up when both Celestia and Luna laughed. He turned and saw a reporter heading towards the table where they were sitting together. “Gosling, prepare yourself…”
The reporter was a pegasus and he had a camera mounted on a neck brace. There was also a notepad with an auto-writing quill, which Gosling realised would be a great thing for Seville to have. He made a mental note to ask Raven for one. The pegasus was older, smiling, and had kind amber eyes. His pelt was the colour of wet sand. He was wearing a battered bowler hat with a purple grosgrain ribbon around the crown.
“Hello, my name is Tiddy Oggy and I was hoping to speak to you.” The pegasus spoke with a thick, strange accent.
“It would be my pleasure,” Gosling replied. “Shall I call you ‘Mister Oggy?’”
“Tiddy, call me Tiddy.” The pegasus nodded and grinned.
“Call me Gosling.” Gosling was aware that there were many eyes on him at the moment. So many eyes. He could feel them, so many eyes, so many expectations, and he began to feel a little itchy.
“Uh, Mister Gosling,” Tiddy began in a low, scratchy voice, “I’d like to know more about you. I know that you are a Private and that you serve in the guard. I know you have a mother that loves you a great deal… but I was hoping to learn from you whatever it is that you’d like the press to know about you.”
Blinking, Gosling tried to process what was just said, trying to make sense of it. It sounded as though he was being given a chance to give his side of things. Gosling glanced at Blueblood and saw a faint, almost unnoticeable nod from the snide prince.
“I come from the First Tribes and I’m a bit of a traditionalist.” Gosling cleared his throat. “I’m also young, foolish, and a bit silly.” The colts ears splayed out and he glanced over at his helmet sitting on the table, then back at Tiddy. “I think more colts and fillies my age should serve. I know that it has sorted me out and given me a better perspective on life. It is my desire to fall in love, settle down, and raise a family, starting as soon as possible. I suppose I want the same things as everypony else in life, though perhaps not what most colts my age want.”
Nodding, Tiddy replied, “Have you seen this morning’s papers yet?”
A cold prickle of fear crept up Gosling’s neck, giving him goose bumps. He felt his mouth go dry. “No I have not. Is there something I should know about?”
“Oh, I suspect that you’ll find out soon enough, but I want no part of that. I’m from The Las Pegasus Picayune, and we don’t print filth or attack articles. We’re a smaller, centrist, conservative family paper, with a focus on family friendly news that a pony of any age could read.”
“I see.” Gosling could hear the wavering in his own voice and it unnerved him.
“Look, I know all about the foolishness of youth, so no worries about that little wingspan display earlier… but overlooking that completely, would you go on the record to say that you champion the cause of family values and the traditional family?”
Gosling, fearing a pitfall, raised his guard. The cold prickle vanished as his eyes narrowed. His lessons in communications came into play. He knew the power of a word. Sergeant Circinus would box his ears for hours if he fell for a simple word dupe. One eyebrow went up. “I am all for family values, traditional and otherwise. I was raised by my mother and my father wasn’t in the picture. She taught me tolerance as a virtue. So I have some very open ideas as to what a family is. It can be two mares, or two stallions, or a mare and a stallion, or even a polyamorous herd. It can also be a single mother or a single father. I champion family values in whatever form they take.”
Tiddy Oggy blinked, stood staring, and blinked again. His pen was scratching down every word said in teeny, tiny letters on the notepad mounted on his neck with his camera. He blinked once more, and then nodded. “When I said ‘traditional,’ I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I think I see how you might have taken it wrong and become a bit worried. My bad.”
Gosling let out a little huff of relief. He still felt eyes on him. Other reporters had now gathered around in a half circle and were listening at a respectful distance. Gosling felt hot, sweaty, and itchy beneath his wings.
“Mister Gosling, I don’t engage in vicious wordplay. It benefits nopony.”
Saying it didn’t make it true, Gosling reminded himself.
“We at the Las Pegasus Picayune, we just focus on the family. We don’t really care what the family is like, so long as there are family values. Las Pegasus is the city of sin. Too many single mothers. It is a plague upon society. Too many ponies not making commitments.” Tiddy drew in a deep breath, one eye narrowed, and the other eye widened. “We’re not against single mothers, either. We just recognise them as a symptom of a much larger problem.”
Gosling nodded.
“There are some rather sensational headlines about you this morning,” Tiddy said in a low whisper, his eyes darting about to other reporters. “And I’d like to believe that they aren’t true. Working under the assumption that they are just lies and sensationalism, on behalf of the Las Pegasus Picayune, I would like to say that we are looking for somepony to champion our cause. Please, keep us in mind, okay?”
“I’ll do that,” Gosling replied as he felt his back muscles jerking. What had the papers said about him? He was itching to know. He wondered if Blueblood knew anything. A part of Gosling didn’t want to know.
“Thank you,” Tiddy said as he bowed his head and began backing away.
Feeling worried, even scared, Gosling glanced at Blueblood while another reporter advanced. It seemed that now that one reporter had spoken to him alone, the floodgates had opened.
Princess Celestia felt Twilight Sparkle brush up against her side. Twilight had a cup of pink punch held in her telekinesis. She looked down at Twilight for a moment, and then returned her gaze to Gosling, who had engaged not one, but several reporters at once. Celestia’s fine hearing allowed her to listen to everything being said, every word spoken. Gosling was talking about what his service in the guard meant to him and how it had made him a better pony.
“He’s charming,” Twilight said in a polite, conversational tone.
“Oh, you have no idea, Twilight,” Celestia replied.
“A little young,” Twilight said to her former mentor.
“I seem to recall another young pony that was about his age. She took on Nightmare Moon, went on adventures, and became a princess.” A wry smile crossed over Celestia’s muzzle. “Ponies criticised her because she was far too young. She went to war with her critics, a long, terrible, bloody war that shows no sign of ending.”
“Cadance was far too young.” Twilight took a sip of punch. “She was just a little filly when she took on Prismia. Sometimes, youth is an advantage. I think I’ve become a little less cocky as I’ve grown older. Now I send ponies half my age off into danger just to find out what sort of potential they have.” Twilight said nothing about her war against the press. The less said about that, the better. “Are you happy?”
There was silence as Celestia considered Twilight’s words and it took her a few moments before she could answer. “I am apprehensive, I am worried, especially in light of some of this morning’s headlines, but yes, Twilight, I am happy.”
“I saw some of the headlines. Only a few. I felt sickened and it put me in a bad mood.” Twilight took another sip of punch and watched as Gosling laughed along with a few reporters. “If Blueblood is the bastard, Gosling is the jester—”
“Twilight, what a terrible thing to say.” Looking down, Celestia turned her gaze upon Twilight. She fought to keep her smile in check. She saw silent laughter in Twilight’s eyes. Her student had grown so much. She was now the pony that Celestia had hoped she would be. She looked up and her eyes fell on Gosling. “I already have plans for him, Twilight.”
“Like you had plans for me… or for Cadance… or for Trixie.” Twilight’s eyebrow arched.
“Technically, it was Applejack that has a plan for Trixie,” Celestia said in a low whisper. “I just helped her sort out the fine details. Applejack has good horse sense. You are wise to keep her as an advisor.” Celestia’s voice dropped even lower and her horn glowed for a brief second. “Trixie is not to leave Ponyville once she arrives. Do you understand? No more running. It is time she got with the program and lived up to her potential.”
Twilight nodded but said nothing.
“I have been watching Sumac Apple for a very long time now,” Celestia said in a voice that only Twilight could hear.
“Just like you’ve watched me and so many others,” Twilight replied. She looked up at her former mentor. “What do you see in him?”
“Somewhat above average greatness.” Celestia’s ears twitched as Gosling talked about his relationship with his mother. “Not everypony is cut out to be an alicorn prince or princess, but many ponies are cut out to be heroes. Little Sumac Apple shows promise. I sense… a power about him, but I cannot yet put my hoof upon what it is just yet.”
“I see.” Twilight cleared her throat. “And what about him?” Twilight asked as she gestured at Gosling. She waited for a reply from Celestia, who stood staring at Gosling.
Celestia let heave a sigh. “I see myself falling in love just a little more each day…”
At the stroke of noon, the open bar began serving drinks and a far more festive atmosphere descended upon the hall. This was a social mixer after all, held for the benefit of the press. Ponies began to dance with one another. Aided by alcohol, new friendships formed. New working relationships were forged.
Princess Celestia was pleased with how things were turning out. The press were getting a chance to see Gosling as she saw Gosling—a fun loving, good natured fellow, a pony with an incredible zest for life. The pony she was falling in love with. The pony she hoped to start a family with.
At the moment, Gosling was dancing with his mother, and Sleet was still glaring at her son. While he had been forgiven, Sleet was not about to let her son off of the hook just yet. Princess Celestia found that she admired Sleet, the mare had held her son to a standard, she had pushed Gosling towards greatness, her love and dedication had refined Gosling into something exceptional.
Twilight Sparkle was dancing with her father, a side by side step dance. Night Light was a fantastic dancer… Twilight on the other hoof… not so much. Her movements were slow and uncoordinated. Twilight’s talents were found elsewhere. As Celestia stood watching, Twilight Velvet came over and joined the side by side step dance. In moments, she fell into a well timed rhythm with her husband.
For a moment, Celestia became lost in the past, everything blurred together, both Night Light and Twilight Velvet’s foalhoods were a part of her present, and her present was the past for other ponies. She could see them as clear as day, when both of them were students in her school. Even then, Twilight Velvet and Night Light wished to change the world. As foals, they had come together with a plan to make the world a better place, and had teamed up so as to improve their chances. Celestia had mentored them both. Both of them had been so bright eyed and eager. For Celestia, it seemed like only a few days ago, but it had been years. She had been there for Night Light when he began to notice little fillies and it had come to his attention that his foalhood friend, his best friend, Twilight Velvet, was a filly.
Celestia had counseled him, offering him encouragement, offering him suggestions on what to say, how to act, how to be a gentlepony. She had been there when Twilight Velvet had begun to notice colts—and Night Light was a colt worth noticing. Under Celestia’s nurturing and guidance, love had bloomed, early love, but it had taken root and grown strong.
Now, Celestia’s efforts were paying dividends. Shining Armor, their firstborn, was now Cadance’s devoted husband. He was a quiet, effective ruler that didn’t get the recognition that he deserved. Twilight, their second foal… what could be said about Twilight that hadn’t been said already?
Gosling and Sleet had joined the line dance with Twilight and her parents. Celestia sighed, feeling a warmth blossoming in her heart. Extended family. Gosling and Sleet would soon find themselves pulled in completely, much in the way that Blueblood and Raven had been pulled in.
“Princess Celestia… er, Your Majesty?”
Turning her head, Celestia responded in a kind voice, even though she hated formal titles. “Yes, my little pony?”
The reporter was a unicorn mare, young, and she looked terrified. “Um, I was curious if you knew about this morning’s headlines…” the mare’s voice trailed off into a fearful squeak. She gulped and her throat bulged as she swallowed. “And if so, I was wondering if you had anything to say about it.”
The muscles in Celestia’s jaw tensed and the tendons in her neck went tight. Her reaction escaped her before she had a chance to rein it in. “I have spoken with my assistant, Raven and she has given me a brief summary.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed as she looked down at the nervous mare. “I am sickened and disgusted by the slander printed in the papers. The ponies who have taken part in this heinous act will all be held accountable, mark my words.”
“S-s-s-so the C-c-c-c-crown will be t-t-t-taking action against the p-p-press?” the mare asked, stammering from fear and nervousness.
Celestia gave her next answer some careful deliberation. “Yes. This is not something We take lightly. We do not like to interfere with the press, as We do not wish to abuse Our authority, but things have gone too far. There will be a reckoning. Feel free to quote Us on that.”
At the word ‘reckoning,’ the mare’s ears went limp and hung at the sides of her face. “Your Majesty, I would do nothing to antagonise you, never!” The mare’s voice was squeaky. “I cannot believe what my fellow reporters have done.” She shook her head and took a step back from Princess Celestia. “I apologise on behalf of my fellow reporters!”
Turning tail, the mare took off, lickety split, leaving Celestia standing alone. As the mare ran towards the bar, Luna, who looked half awake and sleepy, came over to her sister’s side.
“That will cause quite a panic,” Luna said to her sister.
“Good.” Celestia’s lips pressed into a thin, straight line.
“Thou art doing this for love, not for the sake of justice—”
“Don’t start with me, Luna.”
“You misunderstand me,” Luna said, taking a step closer to her sister. “You should do this for love. For too long, you have been too far removed from matters of the heart. I think sometimes you forget what motivates so many of our little ponies. Sometimes, logic and reason should be cast aside, and hot blooded passion should be given free rein. Ne’erdowells should be terrified of a mare whose heart has been trampled. Teach them to fear, dearest Sister of mine.”
Tilting her head to one side, Celestia regarded her sister. Luna had the outward appearance of utter calm, but fury could be seen burning in her eyes like two embers left to smoulder among the ashes.
“I have already sent mine agents to fetch Skyfire Flash.”
“Wardens?” Celestia asked in a low voice muted by magic.
“Of course,” Luna replied. “Do you wish to deal with her when she arrives as our guest?”
Celestia understood that much hinged upon her answer. She did not reply right away, but stood in thought. As much as she wanted to confront Skyfire Flash, she knew it was a bad idea. Little ponies could melt if she became too angry, and that little filly had done something vile. Celestia swallowed and felt her mouth go dry. “Have Blueblood deal with her. I trust that he will do his job. He’ll scare her a bit and shake her up, but he will not harm her. He can be trusted to deal with this in the right way.” Celestia paused for a moment, then added, “Keep Raven away from her at all costs.”
“Sister?” Luna’s eyes narrowed with worry.
“Raven will hurt her. She’s fuming. Gosling is her protégé—”
“He is?” Luna asked, cutting in on her sister’s words. “So much happens during the day…”
“He is,” Celestia replied as she nodded, looking her sister in the eye.
“I shall endeavour to keep Raven away from our guest when she arrives.” Luna’s lips pressed together and protruded in a duck-billed pout. “Raven is the most reliable of little ponies, but her temper is a cause for concern. She becomes most unreasonable when she feels slighted or wronged.”
“Everypony has their faults.” Celestia lifted her head and looked over at Gosling, who was hamming it up for the press as he danced. “Come dear Sister, and dance with me.” Turning about, Celestia wrapped a wing around Luna’s neck and pulled her sister close.
The two sisters really were as different as night and day. Where Celestia was serene and delicate, Luna was exuberant and careless. Where Celestia was quiet, Luna was noisy. But there were similarities to be seen between the two sisters. The two sisters step danced, remaining on four legs. They moved with an eerie familiarity of one another.
Strutting, Gosling approached the sisters, his wings flared out from his sides. He wasn’t wearing his helmet, but he was still wearing his armor. He moved with all of the cocky assurance of youth, the brazen confidence that he could do no wrong.
“Ladies,” Gosling said as he approached, bowing his head down. “Might I ask one of you for a dance? I seek a mare that has aged like fine, fiery whiskey.” Gosling’s eyebrow arched. “Let’s face it, I’m too pretty to refuse. Check out my wingspan!” Grinning, Gosling presented himself, extending his wings once more in a dazzling display, waggling his primaries in a most inviting manner. Much could be said about Gosling, but he knew how to work those wings of his.
Giggling, Celestia started to respond, Gosling was sometimes a bit too funny for his own good, but as Celestia opened her mouth, the impetuous colt pulled Luna away, herding her along with his wings. Stunned, Celestia watched them go. Gosling moved with the confident grace of a gentlepony, leading Luna along, and keeping a respectful distance, mindful of Luna’s personal space. Flashbulbs popped as the two of them danced.
Seeing the smile upon her sister’s face, Celestia felt her heart melting. All Luna wanted was some attention. It wasn’t much to ask for, not really, and right now, with Gosling, Luna was the center of attention. The look of unabashed happiness upon Luna’s face brought tears to Celestia’s eyes. The band picked up the rhythm a bit, but not too much, and to Celestia’s ears, it sounded almost like a waltz.
She watched as Cadance flitted around the room, a social butterfly, and no doubt, with Cadance present, many dancers were feeling the first amorous sparks of infatuation. These events almost always caused a few marriages and new relationships.
Spike was now dancing with Twilight, the little dragon was clumsy, but didn’t seem to care. It was obvious to anypony watching that Spike and Twilight were enjoying themselves. Night Light and Twilight Velvet were dancing neck to neck with one another, their eyes closed as they pressed together.
Hearing the purposeful clattering of hooves that indicated a pony in a hurry, Celestia turned her head and saw Raven. The mare was visibly upset, her glasses were askew, and her mane was mussed. Had Raven been crying? Celestia felt a twinge of worry and moved to intercept.
Raven came to a halt near Gosling, who now stood at attention. The colt, his face stern and serious, stared straight ahead as Raven addressed him, and a worried look could be seen upon Luna’s face as Celestia approached.
“Private Gosling, I hate to disturb your revelry, but I need you to deliver this.” Raven held up a wooden scroll tube in front of Gosling’s face. “You are to deliver this at once. You are not to talk to anypony along the way for any reason, nor are you to speak to anypony on the way back. Two guards will be sent with you to escort you for your own protection.”
Coming to a halt, Celestia’s worry grew. Something had happened, that much was certain, and Raven wasn’t trusting the various means of magical communication, such as dragonfire candles, because those communications could be intercepted by clever unicorns. Raven was trembling and her heaving sides revealed her emotional distress.
The instructions to avoid speaking to anypony were to keep Gosling from finding out what had taken place in the papers, that much was obvious, but something else was up. Celestia noticed more guards taking positions around the doorway. She lifted her head high, her neck going long and straight, and her head swiveled around as she tried to read the situation.
“I shall go at once,” Gosling said. He waited for Raven to place the scroll into the compartment on his armor, then hurried off to fetch his helmet.
Celestia watched him go, her heart leaping up in her throat. She moved to be with him as he stood beside the table, putting on his helmet. Leaning her head down so that she could speak to him at eye level, Celestia said, “Private Gosling, stay safe. Perform your task and then return to me at once.”
“As you command, Heart’s Dearest,” Gosling replied as he cinched his helmet strap.
Then, he was gone. He hurried to the door, leaving Celestia standing there, her sense of worry growing. She saw not two, but four guards surround him, they turned the corner as a group, and then he was, gone, out of her line of sight.
“Princess Celestia, I need to speak to you in private,” Raven said in a wavering voice.
There was a bright flash of light as Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Raven all vanished at once. A second later, Princess Twilight Sparkle was gone, then Shining Armor blinked out of existence, and after waving good bye, Princess Cadance vanished as well.
The reporters left in the hall stood in stunned silence, wondering what had just taken place, and only Prince Blueblood was left to entertain them.
“He has returned,” a guard said as he stuck his head into the situation room where Celestia and the others were waiting. The guard bowed his head, causing the overhead light to glint off of his armor. There were no windows in this room, just fortified stone. “The future consort appears to be okay.” Saying nothing else, the guard withdrew.
Sighing with relief, Celestia was still not satisfied with this answer. She rose from where she had been sitting, arched her back, let out a most unladylike grunt, and then went over to stand near the door. She waited, chewing upon her lip, her wings fidgeting against her sides, the corners of her eyes crinkled with worry.
Raven had resumed her outward appearance of calm and waiting with stoic patience. Beside her, Twilight Sparkle was reading over a thick field report. Twilight’s brows had deep furrows. Shining Armor was sitting beside her and reading over her shoulder. Cadance almost appeared sleepy; her eyes were almost closed and she was taking deep, regular breaths. Luna appeared to be wide awake and was chugging down oily brown coffee by the quart.
When the door opened and Gosling appeared, Celestia moved with terrifying, almost supernatural speed. She lifted him up in her telekinesis, pulled off his helmet, and then began peeling away the rest of his armor, looking him over, her eyes going over every inch, looking for wounds that she hoped weren’t there.
Gosling was at first shocked by this, but recovered, and dangling in the air, he reached out and touched Celestia’s cheek. “I’m fine, but we were followed by a group of strange pegasi for a while.”
A low, guttural growl could be heard in the base of Celestia’s throat as she set Gosling down upon the floor and tossed aside his armor into the corner. Unable to restrain herself, she slammed into him, pinning him against the wall, and she remained pressed against him, needing to feel him, needing to feel him breathing. She rubbed herself up against Gosling in an almost cat-like way, a look of relief visible upon her face.
“Everything has gone white,” Gosling said in a strained voice as he was smooshed. “White out conditions confirmed!”
Raven, who had come over, pulled a scroll tube out of the compartment on Gosling’s armor, which now lay in a heap on the floor. Raven wasted no time, she broke the wax seal, yanked the scroll inside out, and began reading. The wooden scroll tube clattered to the floor.
“What does it say?” Shining Armor asked.
Raven did not reply right away, still reading the report. Her ears drooped and an expression of relief was visible upon her face as she let heave a massive sigh, her barrel expanding as big as it could go before it began to contract again. Looking up from the dispatch, Raven cleared her throat.
“No deaths reported, but the damage is extensive. The passengers of the train were very, very brave and they made sure that not one life was lost.” Raven rolled up the scroll and carried it with her as she went over and sat down at the table.
“What just happened?” Gosling asked.
Turning her head, Raven started to say something in reply, but was cut off by Shining Armor, who held his head high and said, “A train trestle was blown up as the train was passing over it. From what little we know from the initial report, which was sent via unsecured means, most of the train was already across the trestle. Two passenger cars and a caboose dangled over the edge when the bridge went. The report mentions that some very brave ponies made a rescue of those ponies left in the cars that were hanging.”
Raven nodded. “The dangling cars were dragging the train backwards into the gorge. The engineer had to keep the engine at full throttle just to keep it from going over. After every pony was pulled free, the decision was made to cut the two passenger cars and the caboose free.” Raven slumped over in her chair and her head fell backwards against the rest. “Nopony was killed. Thank goodness.”
“You made remarkable time in reaching the guardpost,” Celestia said to Gosling as she sat down beside him on the floor. Without warning, she glomped him, almost crushing him in a most unprincessly manner. “Those wings of yours are for more than show.” Unable to restrain her affections, Celestia pressed her muzzle against Gosling’s cheek, kissing him, glad to have him alive and breathing. She didn’t seem bothered by the fact that she was squeezing the life out of him, and she ignored his squirming, his struggling, and his wide, bulging eyes.
“I think we all know who is responsible for this,” Shining Armor said.
“We don’t know that for certain,” Raven replied, holding up one hoof.
“Things haven’t been right since Starlight Glimmer’s attempt to disrupt the timeline—”
“Shining Armor, do not attack my pupil.” Twilight’s voice was cold and hard as she spoke to her brother, and her eyes held a stern warning. She leaned forwards over the table and her ears pitched forwards over her eyes.
“I’m not attacking your pupil, just what she did. She’s left us weakened with an exposed gap in our armor.” Shining Armor returned his sister’s hard, unyielding gaze. “Too many hold her up as a martyr lost to their cause. Her very name has become a rallying cry for the equalist movement. Far too many now want our Monarchy to end and our entire way of life to be toppled. Like it or not Twilight, she did this to us, this plague upon both our society and our safety.”
Swallowing an angry retort, Twilight said nothing. She turned away from her brother and stared at some nonexistent point of interest upon the wall. Shining Armor’s hardened gaze became apologetic, but Twilight didn’t see it. Shining Armor slumped in his chair and sighed.
“We face many threats,” Luna grumbled, “these ponies who seek equality but attack the very ponies they claim they wish to protect. The organised crime families in Manehattan that we can do very little about. To bring about their end would be to plunge the city into chaos. It sickens me that we have to allow their continued existence just to keep order.”
“Equestria has grown quite large while you were gone, dearest Luna,” Cadance said. “This is no longer a collection of fiefdoms that can be kept under control by an army of guards and knights. Shining Armor absolutely abhors the crime families of Manehattan and wishes to dismantle them, but we’ve already seen what happens when you disturb the careful illusion of order in that city. It is not something we can afford to do again.”
“It feels like the more our population grows, the less influence and power my sister and I have,” Luna remarked, her eyes narrowing as she tapped upon the edge of the table with her hoof.
“Manehattan is a savage city,” Gosling said, tossing his opinion in as Celestia continued to cuddle him without mercy. “I grew up there. I remember a few years back the wave of arson that we had. Ma was always worried that our apartment building would get torched. That earth pony, whatshername, she went to war against the fires in the city.”
“Mmm, my future prince is a savage come from savage lands,” Celestia said in a low murmur. “I think we need a Manehattanite in the castle. A little savagery might do us good.”
“So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking,” Gosling said as he twisted around so he could get a better look at Celestia. “What happened with the headlines this morning?”
“Ugh, I have no desire to talk about that,” Celestia replied in disgust.
“Okay.” Wiggling a hoof free, Gosling pressed it against Celestia’s lips to silence her. “You don’t get to talk about it. Who wants to fill me in about what is going on?”
As Celestia’s eyes went wide and then blinked a few times in shock at being silenced, it was Cadance who provided an answer. “Skyfire Flash made some rather horrific statements about you, including the claim that you coerced her into unwanted sex.”
“What?” Gosling squirmed in Celestia’s grip, but the big white mare doubled down, refusing to let go. “The whole school called me queer because I refused to bang that broad! She started that rumour!” In Gosling’s anger, his Manehattanite accent thickened. His ears stood up in anger and the corner of his eye began twitching. He thrashed against Celestia’s embrace, but she was far stronger.
“She has a very elaborate story that she told the papers.” Cadance held silent hopes that Celestia could keep a good grip on Gosling. The colt looked murderous and his anger frightened Cadance just a little. The good natured colt that she knew and loved was gone. “She said that she made up the story of your separation so she could protect her reputation.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Twilight snorted in disgust and rolled her eyes.
“Twilight, after having read her ‘interview,’ I can say that she doesn’t strike me as being particularly bright.” Cadance blinked, then turned to look at Gosling. “What did you see in her, anyway?”
“Fu—”
Gosling’s reply was silenced by Celestia kissing him on the lips just long enough to smother the word escaping his mouth.
“—if I know,” Gosling finished when Celestia pulled away.
“She claims that she had to make up an elaborate break up story in order to keep her reputation intact. She claims to be a good girl, a daddy’s girl, and that she didn’t want her father’s heart broken, so she made up everything to protect herself and protect him. She contradicts herself several times in her own interview. She claims that you raped her, and when she begged you to stop so she wouldn’t be a pregnant teenage mother, you beat her, punching her in the face repeatedly, then sodomised her and left her unable to attend school for two weeks.”
Gosling once again thrashed against Celestia’s embrace. “That dumb broad fell down and busted her dock while we was ice skating at the Clopperfeller Center! She also broke a tooth and split her lip open! That’s why she was out of school for two weeks… that lying, conniving bi—”
Once more, Celestia applied the kiss of censorship, a swift gentle peck that stifled the unsavoury word that Gosling had uttered. After she pulled away, she pressed her lips against Gosling’s ear and whispered the words, “Mind your temper, Gosling. Vulgarity does not become you.”
“Pregnant teenage mother…” Shining Armor let out a disgusted wicker and shook his head. “I wonder if she was coached by the reporter on what to say.” The unicorn leaned over, tapped his sister with his hoof, and said, “I’m sorry, Twily.”
Turning to look at her brother, Twilight replied, “I’m not angry… not with you, anyway.”
“The press are still gathered.” Raven’s face became a professional mask. “We should prepare a statement about what happened with the train. How do we present this? Terrorism? Do we dismiss this as random disaster and say that the bridge just gave way because it was old and the wood was rotten? How do we spin this?”
“We tell the truth,” Celestia said, relaxing her grip upon Gosling. “We tell them that the bridge was sabotaged, but we don’t know by who. We then brand whomever is responsible as cowards, gutless cowards that brazenly attack defenseless, unarmed civilians.”
“I’ll do it,” Shining Armor offered. “I can do the elder statespony thing to draw in much needed public sympathy. I can be the calm, quiet voice of reason that our nation needs in our time of national crisis.”
“Thou art very good at it,” Luna said, offering Shining Armor a compliment. She appeared distracted and upset. “We dost find Ourselves in most vexing times…” She shook her head and said nothing else, her words fading.
Taking a deep breath, Celestia closed her eyes and her ears went limp against her temples. “I’m sorry, but I want some time alone with Gosling. Make up or say whatever needs to be said to excuse my absence.”
“Sure thing, Auntie,” Shining Armor replied as everypony made ready leave.
Now alone, Celestia patted the cushion she had sprawled out upon, inviting Gosling to come and sit beside her. He seemed troubled, she had seen and heard a side of him that was new to her. His projection of confidence had slipped away and she had seen an angry, troubled colt. It made her love him all the more.
He appeared to be anxious when he came over and sat down beside her. It was obvious that he was out of sorts, she could see the hurt in his eyes. He began preening his wings, not as a perverse sexual display, but out of nervous worry. His movements were jerky, clumsy, and she wondered if he felt self conscious somehow preening in front of her.
“Gosling…”
The colt did not reply, but gave a hard tug on one of his mussed primaries. She heard him yelp deep down in his throat. She sat there, frozen with indecision, not quite sure what to do. He was so much like her in some of his mannerisms. She too, was sometimes a little too rough when she preened during tense moments.
She didn’t want to see him start plucking himself.
Feeling very much like a scared school filly, Celestia slid herself over the cushion and got closer to Gosling. She took a deep breath, licked her lips, and then she did what was perhaps the most intimate thing that two pegasi could do with one another. She took his wing in her magic, pulled it from his body, and she began preening him. He went rigid as her tender touch fell upon him. She went to work, smoothing out his primaries, they were in quite a state after all of the flying he had done this day. She could feel her heart thudding in her throat. She was terrified that he might pull away, that he might resist her advances. Her own tension increased to the point where she worried that she might start crying.
But he did not pull away. He sat there, frozen, his eyes wide, almost as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. Celestia eyed him as she worked. She could taste the salty sweat encrusted in his wings, the dust, dirt, and grime left her tongue feeling gritty. This was an odd moment and Celestia was confused. Was this maternal? Pegasi preened their young until they were old enough to do it themselves, then the practice stopped. It was a very intimate act, preening others. She hoped that she wasn’t mothering him, he got enough mothering from Sleet. She wanted to give him something else. She scooted a little closer so that she could do a better job.
She could hear the sounds of his breathing in her ears, each breath going in and out was a ragged gasp. She could feel his whole body trembling. She worked to smooth out his ruffled, neglected feathers and felt something between them, some spark, some connection. She sniffed and the unmistakable scent of musky male arousal lingered in her nostrils.
Lifting her head, Celestia gave Gosling the most smouldering, inviting stare that she could muster. She gazed into his eyes, trying to see past them, trying to peer into his soul. He was shaking and she knew even without looking down that he was trying to hide himself from her, a part of him had spilled out. The scent of his eagerness teased her senses.
“Gosling, if your princess bade you to take her, would you?” Celestia asked in a low whisper.
“No, my princess, I would not,” Gosling replied in a raspy, squeaky voice.
“If I were to offer myself up to you right now, you would refuse me?”
“Yes I would.” Gosling swallowed and Celestia watched the lump travel down his slender neck.
“We both know how this will end. We shall be together… I have a need, I can tell that you have a need… and Cadance even says that a couple should see how things work before they marry.” Celestia felt a growing warmth in her belly as she advanced upon Gosling. He would have all the eagerness of youth. She bit her lip for a moment, thinking of how things might be. Her mind filled with feverish images of clumsy, but affectionate grappling, in her ears she could hear heavy breathing, and her heart thudded against her ribs.
“Heart’s Dearest,” Gosling said in a low, strained voice as he struggled to control himself, “you fell in love with me because of how I am. If I changed who I was, I would not be the pony you fell in love with. If I changed who I was just to satisfy you, I would be betraying you, and you would be betraying me, because the two of us would be bedding a stranger.”
Pausing, her muzzle now inches from his, Celestia gazed into his eyes. “Then I suppose there is only one thing we can do to remedy this situation, my dearest Gosling…”
“I’m not sure how this fixes our problem,” Gosling whined in a reedy, nasal drone as Celestia’s weight settled over his back. She was heavy, she had a shocking amount of weight for looking so thin and delicate, but Gosling would never say that. He would never, ever say that the mare he loved had to weigh as much as a neutron star. He had to strain to hold her up, but his legs were askew in strange positions, which made his efforts quite difficult. He felt her leg reaching beneath him, brushing up against his sides, and then her hind leg was braced against the inside of his thigh, which was off at an angle. Something velvety brushed up against something sensitive, and it tickled him. He began to giggle. His jerky movements as he giggled made everything worse.
“Quiet you,” Celestia commanded, “and focus on holding up your princess, my little pony.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Gosling waited, his whole body straining as he felt Celestia’s stomach rubbing over his croup. This was torture. She was trying to torture him to death, he was certain of it. He had refused her and now this.
“Right front yellow,” Celestia said.
Cringing, Gosling made a move, trying to beat Celestia to the nearest spot within reach. As he moved, he felt her slide over his back, and he heard her hiss, sucking air through her clenched teeth. He felt… something brush up against his spine, near his dock. Two somethings to be exact. He tried not to think about what those might be. It might have been the pointy bits of bone on her pelvis for all he knew. He wobbled, almost losing his balance, and Celestia made it harder when more of her bulk came to rest upon him. She had to reach out even further to reach a different spot, seeing as how he had taken the closest.
“Gosling, how is it that both of your hind legs are brushing up against my hind leg?” Celestia paused for a moment and then said in reply to her own words, “Wait, don’t answer that. Some things are better left a mystery, my little pony.”
Sweat ran down Gosling’s belly and poured down his legs as his beloved princess settled more of her bulk over his back. He gritted his teeth and tried to brace himself as best as he could.
“Left front blue,” Celestia said.
Looking around, Gosling realised he was boned. He whimpered, lifted his left front leg, and then reached back towards the only blue spot he could reach. He wobbled, almost falling over, and with his right foot off at an angle, he tipped over, ending up with his backside up in the air. Somehow, he kept from falling over completely, but now his princess was forced to balance herself on his bum. He tried not to think about how he must look at the moment, bent over, with Celestia’s hot, sweaty belly grinding up against his backside. He whimpered.
The door opened and Cadance entered without knocking. She stood staring. Cadance had no visible reaction whatsoever, other than just staring at what she saw with her head tilted off to one side.
“Cadance,” Celestia said in a strained voice, greeting Cadance as she struggled to keep her balance on Gosling, who was face down and bum up. Celestia’s wings were out to help to keep her from falling over. “We were just trying to relieve a little stress.”
“I see that,” Cadance replied. “One… two… three… four… five.” Cadance nodded. “Huh. I wonder if having five legs to stand on counts as cheating.”
With a grunt and a gasp, Gosling collapsed, causing Celestia to come crashing down on top of him. The most delightful parts of her that he could imagine rubbed up against him, along his spine, and she was like a dense, heavy cloud made of velvet that could somehow crush the life out of him. Death was certain, but what a way to go.
“I hate to interrupt your game of Twister, but I was hoping to lure the two of you out of your room. There is still a lot of daylight left and the press is getting antsy. Might I recommend an invigourating cold shower?”
Saying nothing else, Cadance turned, exited, and shut the door behind her.
Just outside of the door, Celestia came to a halt. Gosling looked up, she had her head held high so it was difficult to look her in the eye. She was shaking. Gosling’s eyebrow raised and he took a step closer. This was a private hall and it was empty, save for some guards posted in alcoves some ways back.
“Heart’s Dearest, are you okay?” Gosling asked.
Shaking her head, Celestia replied, “No. I do not wish to go in there.”
Gosling started to say something, but Celestia continued, having only paused for a moment. “I know what is expected of me, Gosling. I know what needs to be done.” Celestia paused and sniffed a few times. Gosling wondered if she was about to start crying perhaps. He moved closer and gave her an attentive nudge with his nose on her neck.
“I keep thinking of abdicating,” Celestia admitted. “Just stepping down. When Equestria was small, rulership was easy. Oh, it was hard, don’t get me wrong, but the application of governance was easy. There was only a little land and it was relatively easy to manage. There was an island of civilisation in a sea of monsters. Discord had ruined so much.”
Waiting, Gosling stood with his ears perked, listening. He was glad his mother wasn’t here to hear Discord’s name. She would be spitting and cursing.
“Now though… oh my goodness… Manehattan has over a million ponies.” Celestia shook her head. “I can’t even remember the exact numbers. But all of Manehattan has more ponies packed into one city than Equestria had for its whole population when it was our golden age.”
“The fourth Celestial Era… Colonel Purple Dart… the era of southern expansion…”
Looking down, Celestia blinked at Gosling.
“What? I said I liked history. My Ma quizzed me with flashcards each night before bed, okay?” Gosling’s stormy grey face darkened a bit as he blushed and his nostrils flared.
After a moment, Celestia nodded her head. “Gosling, I worry sometimes how the old way of governance and the monarchy will hold up as we grow larger and larger. Equestria is a perilous mix of old and new. Sometimes, I worry that everything will fly apart.”
“Oy vey,” Gosling said in a low voice, sounding a bit like his mother. “Things change, but traditions survive. Just not every tradition. Some fall by the wayside and new ones rise up to replace them.” He held his head as high as he could. “You are the Eternal Sun, the last of the Great Ones of the First Tribes. That empire didn’t survive and there is no guarantee that this one will either—”
“Gosling…”
“Eventually, things will change. Something will give. Equestria might not be Equestria. But you will still be here, looking after and guiding whatever little ponies might still be around.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed. “The wise ones will always follow you. The foolish ones will turn away to face their own destruction.”
“I… Gosling… you… I…” Flabbergasted, Celestia fell silent. Her lips pressed into a tight, narrow line, her brow furrowed in thought, she pushed upon the door and stepped into the hall.
When the door opened, Gosling heard patriotic music playing. The mood in the hall was subdued. More reporters had arrived and the hall was packed. The bar was crowded and the buffet tables were being filled with supper items. Nopony was dancing. Reporters stood talking to one another. Others had formed a ring around Shining Armor and were listening with perked ears.
Seeing Shining Armor and how he dealt with the crisis, Gosling aspired to something better in life. He needed to go back to school. He needed to stay in the guard. Perhaps it was time to grow up, become a little bit more serious, and become an officer. Maybe it was time to double down on his therapy. He was still pretty angry about Skyfire Flash and the situation that had caused him to drop out of school. The events of the day had brought a lot of painful things up to the surface of his mind. It was like a sliver surfacing on the flesh after festering in the wound.
Looking up at Celestia, Gosling realised that it was time for him to become the pony that Celestia deserved. He didn’t have time to think about it for very long though, as several members of the press were coming over, edging close, trying to hurry without running.
When one was close enough, she spoke before the others had a chance. “I was hoping to get your opinion on what has happened.”
Celestia drew in a deep breath and her sides expanded. Before she could speak, she was interrupted by the mare. “No, I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I was hoping for his opinion.” The mare pointed at Gosling.
With a huff, Celestia deflated.
Put on the spot, Gosling stood there, frozen, almost forgetting to blink. He wasn’t sure what to say, or what to do, or what was expected of him. He wasn’t sure what was the safe thing to say, or the Crown approved opinion. He had not been briefed upon the Crown’s official stance.
He sucked in a deep breath, which almost whistled in his dry, raspy throat.
Clearing his throat, Gosling spoke, hoping that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. “First and foremost, I would like to ask all of my fellow First Tribe members to come together. Our Princesses need us. Maybe some of you have lapsed in your faith. Maybe some of you are First Tribe members in name only. Maybe some of you are old, starchy traditionalists hoping for a revival of the old ways. I tell you this…” Gosling paused and listened as pens all around him scratched over paper. “Now is your time. Revive the old ways. For too long, too many ponies have been worshipping the Royal Sisters in the wrong way. A lot of annoying bowing, a lot of useless prostrating themselves down on the ground. They offer the Royal Sisters lip service.”
Gosling felt hundreds of eyes upon him, boring into his flesh. He felt vulnerable, exposed, his mouth was dry and he was aware that his voice kept cracking. It didn’t matter though, he had to go on. “We need to show others how it is done! If you don’t know, turn to your elders and ask them what can be done… long ago, we served the alicorns, not because we had to, but because we wanted to. We built an empire of beauty out of our love for them. We can best serve them by returning to the old ways and embracing them! Restore our traditions!”
More reporters had gathered and Gosling closed his eyes for a minute, all too aware that pretty much everypony in the room was now staring at him, including his mother. Eyes still shut, he continued, “We can serve the Royal Sisters best by looking after what they hold dear… Equestria and the ponies who live there. Members of the First Tribes, my name is Gosling, son of Sleet, and I am here to ask you to begin a new era of civil service!”
Taking a deep breath, Gosling made ready to say more, but was drowned out by thunderous applause. He opened his eyes, blinked in astonishment, and felt his ears burning. In the sea of faces, he saw his mother’s blue eyes and her white face. Her silvery white mane had spilled down around her muzzle, clinging to her dampened cheeks. She was crying. Gosling felt something catch in his throat and even if he wasn’t drowned out by the stomping hooves, the whistles, and the whinnies, he wouldn’t be able to continue. His voice was gone. Seeing his mother crying had done him in.
Lunging forwards, the crowd parted, and Gosling rushed forwards to embrace his mother.
His mother’s embrace was warm and comforting. She clung to him, shaking, her cheeks damp, her wings around his neck. Gosling ignored the flashes as cameras went off. He didn’t care at the moment who knew that he loved his mother. He kissed her on the top of her head and wondered when he had become so much taller than she was.
When he was younger, she used to kiss him on the white spot located between his ears, calling it her special spot. Now, she couldn’t reach it, not unless he bowed his head. So much had changed in so little time. He had grown up… and up… and up. A matchmaker had set him upon the path to love. He was probably going to marry soon, perhaps sooner than he expected. His life had become a whirlwind, and now, he was caught in the midst of it, powerless to do anything but try to ride it out.
Somepony approached from the side and from size alone, Gosling knew it was Celestia. He felt two wings wrap around him and his mother. The three stood together now, with Celestia being the largest and Sleet being the smallest, with Gosling somewhere in between.
“This is my future consort, whom I hold most dear,” Princess Celestia said in a warm voice that somehow cut through all of the noise around her without a microphone. No other words were spoken, but Celestia bowed her head, bending her neck so that she could be closer to the two ponies she had embraced.
Many cameras flashed to capture the moment and many words were murmured.
Then, one old pegasus reporter shouted, “Mazel Tov!” and set off a frenzy.
Looking up from his supper plate, Gosling saw Seville. The camera mount was gone and his gear seemed to be put away in his bags. The earth pony was holding a plate loaded down with food in his mouth and his eyes looked down at the chair across from Gosling, asking a silent question. Gosling glanced over at his mother for a moment and saw her nod, so he nodded as well.
Seville set his plate down upon the table and then sat down, looking grateful. He looked over at Gosling, gave a nod, and said, “Thank you, new friend.”
“Have a good first day on the job?” Gosling asked before he crammed a steamed vegetable dumpling into his mouth.
The earth pony fell back in his chair and his eyes closed. He slumped over with exhaustion. Lifting his forehooves, he rested them on the edge of the table, and after a few moments of deep, calming breathing, he opened his eyes once more. “I have had the best day ever. It started out rough, but… I don’t even know where to begin.”
Chewing, Gosling waited. He watched as his mother took a drink and his ears perked as the ice cubes in her glass clinked. Turning, he glanced over at Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, who were some distance away discussing what might happen next after the train attack.
“My day started with me getting the stuffing kicked out of me by Palatino Palomino, then I get rescued by this really nice pony, then I get a new job, after that I get some face time with Raven, and she gives me some exclusives to work with, after that, I got to talk to Prince Blueblood, and he gave me an exclusive interview where he openly discussed all of the ways that Equestria could be doing better. It was an honest and refreshing exchange, and far better than the ‘everything is perfect’ speeches so many politicians offer up.”
Lifting his fork, Gosling ate another steamed vegetable dumpling and felt his mother’s eyes upon him. Without even looking, he knew that she was proud. He chewed a few times, lifted up his glass, and gulped down some refreshing, ice cold, sunny orange Celestia~Cola. Citrus and tamarind, a perfect combination and somehow appropriate to be drinking, given his situation. Every bottle sold benefited charity.
“I also got to speak with Cadance and Shining Armor, then I spoke with Night Light and Twilight Velvet. I got to meet Flurry Heart. Spike gave me a tour of the castle.” Seville sighed and looked down at his plate of food. “I have had the most amazing day.” The earth pony fell silent and began eating.
The trio ate in silence, glad to have a moment’s peace. It had been a long day for everypony. Things were winding down and would soon end. Gosling would be glad for the day to end, he needed sleep. He was tired, worn out, and sore from flying hundreds of miles in a single day.
“Princess Luna… I do not mean to be antagonistic, but I would very much like to ask you a question, if I may,” a unicorn reporter asked.
Stuffing his face with a buttery, garlicky bite of roasted red potatoes, Gosling listened to the exchange as he chewed. He liked potatoes, but his mother made the best potato dishes. That was all there was to it.
“I was wondering if you could tell me how you feel about your own impending marriage to Private Gosling.”
To Gosling’s credit, he didn’t drop his fork when he heard the reporter’s question. His mouth full of food, he stopped chewing and turned his head. He heard the clatter of silverware from his mother’s direction. His mouth became far too dry to swallow. His mushed, half chewed potatoes lingered in his cheeks.
“Um…” Luna’s voice sounded hesitant.
“I only ask because the old laws are still active. They’ve never been stricken from the books. The Royal We is still in effect, and both you and your sister are still one unified royal entity, thus enforcing the We, Our, and Us still heard in your speech.”
“Those laws still exist?” Luna asked.
Gosling struggled to work up some spit so he could swallow his half chewed food. It felt like an impossible task. His jaw moved and his throat threatened to close up on him if he even attempted to swallow his bite of potatoes. Gosling could feel an ever tightening band forming around his barrel. He glanced over at Seville, who had paused while stuffing his face. Seville looked stunned.
“Sister, do those laws still exist?” Luna’s voice sounded both amused and curious.
“We are still one royal entity,” Celestia replied, “I guess I never got around to having those laws changed. I became a little busy during the past thousand years. Stuff happened. Lots of stuff… I had lost all interest in marriage and then you came back, and truth be told, I haven’t given them much thought and with no interest in marriage, I never even thought about this becoming an issue…” Celestia’s words trailed off.
“Ma,” Gosling croaked in a low voice that was little more than a breathy utterance. “Ma, I’m scared.”
“Me too,” Sleet whispered as she began rubbing her front hooves together.
“We are still a We.” Gosling could hear it in Luna’s voice. She was enjoying this development. He grabbed his glass of Celestia~Cola, took a swig, and managed to swallow his mouthful of potatoes, just as Luna said something else. “Oh, We art most intrigued about Our coming marriage.”
“Will the law be preserved or will it be cast aside as an act of Privilegium Nobilitatis?”
Ears perking, Gosling had no idea what was being said, but it sounded both important and just a little bit antagonistic. He gave his mother a worried glance and he could see terror in her piercing blue eyes. He felt bad for her. She had been fine with everything about his relationship, but this was scaring her. Something deep within Gosling resented what was going on, and he wanted to kick somepony for upsetting his mother. He heard his own jaw muscles creaking. Gosling was not a violent sort of pony, but somepony had upset his mother.
“We wouldn’t think about abusing the laws for Our own benefit,” Celestia said in a cold voice that held none of its usual affection for her little ponies. Her warmth and graciousness was gone. The sound of it made Gosling’s terror grow worse.
Ears straining, Gosling knew her well enough to know that she was angry, and very much so. He set down his fork and begged his mind to come up with a plan. He needed to create a distraction, he needed to do something to disrupt the situation. He wondered how much longer Luna would be enjoying this now that her sister was upset. Probably not very long. He had been briefed that Luna’s moods were mercurial at best and that her fury came on hard and fast. Princess Luna did not have the restraint that her sister had. She was a fierce, fickle pony that was known to lash out for even the slightest of offenses.
“I’ve noted that you’ve shared a husband in the past, many in fact, but the last shared marriage record has been sealed away from the public eyes. Might I ask why?”
Gosling knew why. Celestia had told him. She had mentioned this. He felt a growing sense of worry. The last thing either sister needed was a painful, heart breaking reminder of the past. Luna, as Nightmare Moon, had killed him. Tossing down his fork, Gosling rose from the table. It was time to act like a fool.
“That record was sealed for a reason and its contents will remain sealed,” Celestia replied. “Are we not entitled to sense of privacy regarding painful family matters?”
“Those are supposed to be publicly available records. Given the time and the era, I’m guessing that something happened to your shared husband. It seems foolish to hide it when any pony can put two and two together. Was he a victim of Nightmare Moon?”
Before Celestia or Luna could say anything, Gosling inserted himself between her and the reporter. He was terrified, his back muscles clenched and jerked in the most painful way, and he felt like throwing up his dinner. But that was on the inside. On the outside, he had a suave smile, he looked cool, calm, and collected.
“Excuse us,” Gosling said in his most charming voice as he made his interjection. “It has been a very, very long day for all of us. I don’t know about you, but I am ready to retire for the evening.” Gosling bowed his head to the reporters gathered around the two sisters.
Mouth dry, he raised his head, turned to look at both Celestia and Luna, then he continued, “Ladies… will you give me the privilege of your company?”
“Gosling…” There was confusion and panic in Celestia’s eyes, Gosling could see it.
Something stronger was needed. Gosling waggled his eyebrows and offered up a salacious wink, hoping that neither sister would kill him later, or have him thrown in a dungeon, or banished, or banished and thrown into a dungeon wherever it was that he was banished.
“Ladies… let’s face it, I’m young, and I’m pretty, and there is more than enough of me to go around,” Gosling said in the silkiest voice he could muster with his dry, parched throat. A flashbulb popped. Gosling was starting to hate cameras. He wanted to ram it down the reporter’s throat. Or perhaps up the other end.
“Oooh, Sister, I am most intrigued,” Luna said, nudging her sister. “Come, let us retire.”
Gulping, Gosling felt something in his throat that resembled jagged, broken glass. He spread his wings and nudged both sisters along. Celestia said nothing as Gosling fell into step between the two sisters. More cameras flashed and Gosling hoped that his mother would be okay. He hoped that she had presence of mind enough to be making her own escape. He wondered where Blueblood was and why he hadn’t run interference.
Something had to be done to show that everything was okay. The doors leading to the private hall were quite some distance away. Gosling walked between the two sisters, and he could feel his wingpits grow sweaty. Celestia seemed almost wooden, while Luna somehow managed to sashay as she made her exit. Celestia was hurt and Gosling suspected that Luna was playing along—Luna was smart.
Leaning over, stretching his neck a little, he was able to give Luna a smooch on the cheek. She wasn’t quite as tall as Celestia. She seemed surprised and he felt her whole body tense as she let out a startled whinny. That was probably a trip to the dungeon, or perhaps Gelding Grotto. Unwanted sexual advances and touching her royal body without permission—such a thing was grounds for harsh punishment. He tried not to think about it. Maybe Celestia might pardon him. Or maybe this was over, everything was over, and all future plans for marriage would be called off due to the sudden complications. Maybe Celestia would put an end to all of this to avoid said complications and accusations.
Stretching out his neck as much as he could, he couldn’t quite reach Celestia’s cheek, she had her head held too high for him to smooch. He strained like a hungry pony hoping for an apple just out of reach. After a moment of struggle, he settled for kissing Celestia on the neck, mindful of the flashbulbs going off. Gosling felt sick with worry and his dinner was threatening to come back up. He could taste acidic bile in the back of his throat as he strutted, moving through the room as though he was one lucky colt that was about to bang not one, but two princesses. He was like a smooth, suave, sophisticated peacock as he led the sisters away, at least on the outside, and he walked with his tail hiked high.
The walk to the doors was the longest and most difficult walk he had ever taken in his life. The doors opened and Gosling escorted the two sisters through, somehow maintaining his confident, libidinous strut. When the doors shut behind them and the press could no longer see, Gosling almost collapsed, and would have if Luna had not caught him.
Overcome with fear, stress, and worry, Gosling spewed his dinner up all over Luna as she tried to hold him up, covering her in bits of red potato, steamed vegetable dumplings, and sweet potato soufflé.
Gosling was dumped down onto a pile of cushions after Luna emerged from the bathroom. He curled into a fetal position and his brain hardly even registered the fact that he had just taken a shower with Luna of all ponies. He was an almost oblivious, gibbering mess. Celestia had brushed his teeth as he had been slumped over, unresponsive, behaving like a droopy, soaked foal in the shower.
Celestia, nesting in the same pile of cushions as Gosling, was trying to calm herself. She watched her sister, Luna, as she shuffled about the room, pacing about, her pelt sleek and somewhat damp from the shower. Reaching out a foreleg, Celestia hooked it over Gosling’s body and dragged him closer.
Looking up at her sister, Luna, Celestia said, “I would like to have Cadance brought to me as soon as possible.”
Blinking, her ears jerking around in different directions, Luna processed her sister’s command, but also tried to think of why her sister would want Cadance brought here. She looked down at Gosling, who clutched his stomach and moaned.
There was nary a sound from Luna’s bare hooves as she traipsed over the floor to the doorway. She pulled it open and stepped outside, shutting the door behind her. Celestia lowered her head, her brows beetling with affectionate protection as she pulled him even closer.
“You did a very brave thing,” she whispered, her lips grazing against Gosling’s ear.
“Feel sick,” Gosling murmured through lips made clumsy with nausea.
“Calm down, it shall pass,” Celestia replied, and then she shushed him with a soft, sibilant exhalation.
The door opened and Luna stepped back inside. She lingered near the door, shifting from her right hooves to her left hooves, as if trying to make up her mind. After a few moments of prancing about with indecision, she lurched forwards and dove into the pile of cushions, plowing into her sister’s side. She rested her neck against Celestia’s as she nestled herself in and got comfortable.
“Am I in trouble?” Gosling asked.
“No,” both Luna and Celestia said together.
Satisfied with the answer, Gosling shut his eyes then let out a groan as his stomach continued to try and leap out of his throat. He was just out of the shower but was already sweating. Large droplets rolled down his neck, down his forehead, and his muscles quivered all up and down the length of his body.
“They’re never going to forgive me,” Luna said in a low voice.
“Some of them have,” Celestia replied, leaning against her sister. “It is still a point of contention though. As far as sensationalism goes, it doesn’t get more sensational than bringing up the shadows and the sins of the past.”
Closing her eyes, Luna pressed herself up against Celestia and said nothing. Now stuck sitting in the silence, Celestia seethed, simmering in her own anger, gritting her teeth together, hating everything about this situation and hating herself for being careless.
There was a soft knock upon the door and Celestia said, “Enter.”
The door opened and a guard took a few hesitant steps inside as Luna opened her eyes. Both sisters stared at him as he gave them an apologetic glance. He bowed his head a bit, blinked, and then took a deep breath.
“Princess Cadance has departed. She and Shining Armor, along with Flurry Heart, have left for the Crystal Empire.” The guard paused and cleared his throat. “We also have a situation.”
“And that is?” Celestia asked.
“Twilight Sparkle has taken to browbeating the press. She’s in quite a state. She’s magically locked the doors to the hall, trapping all inside, and she is currently lecturing them on the importance of decency, gentleness, and good graces. She is furious. We can’t get the doors open to save anypony. Nopony can teleport in or out. She has the room shielded.”
“I’ll not move to save them,” Celestia said to the guard.
“They brought this upon themselves.” Luna shifted her body so she could better tuck her legs beneath her. “Thank you… you are dismissed.”
Bowing his head, the guard backed out of the room and shut the door behind him, his face apologetic. The door made no sound as it was shut. A heavy silence filled the room and the two sisters sat thinking, as Gosling remained a quivering, shivering lump.
No sooner spoken than broken, Luna banished the silence after what felt like several long, painful minutes. “I refuse to believe that Cadance would be so careless as to forget something this important.”
Celestia’s lips made a flawless, beautiful moue as her ears pinned back against her skull. After a short span of consideration, her ears lifted, pitching forward, angling over her eyes. She turned her head to look at her sister and saw that Luna was looking up at her.
“Sister, I suspect that we have been played,” Luna whispered.
Nodding, Celestia’s jaw clenched as she realised that she had just been had. Already, she was trying to puzzle out Cadance’s motivations. Celestia’s mind was brilliant and she had the wisdom of eons nestled beneath her brow.
“Why would Cadance do this to all of us?” Luna wondered aloud. “She loves us, so we must assume that she did not do this or allow this to happen with grievous intent.” Luna’s lips pressed together into a duck-billed pout. After blinking, more words were uttered by Luna. “Sister, you taught Cadance a little too well.”
Again, Celestia nodded, but said not a word.
“I feel uncomfortable being duped,” Luna admitted.
For the third time, Celestia nodded, and there was a groan from Gosling.
“We shall have revenge for this.” Luna’s words were a throaty whisper.
Wincing, Celestia got a crick in her neck from all the nodding she was doing. Looking down, Celestia saw Gosling’s head resting on her foreleg. As she gazed down at him, she knew. It hit her like a slap on the muzzle. Her ears bobbed up and down, her nostrils flared, and she became all too aware of her sister’s bulk pressing against her. Celestia blinked away a tear that formed in the corner of her eye. She knew.
“It is a matter of trust and forgiveness,” Celestia said in a voice thick with emotional gravel. She blinked again, feeling the sting of tears.
“I do not follow,” Luna replied.
A dull ache settled over Celestia’s heart as she looked at Gosling. A tear slid down her muzzle. “Luna, it is a matter of trust and forgiveness, two very important elements of love.” For a moment, Celestia’s throat grew so tight that she feared that she would lose her voice. She fought against the feeling, swallowing, struggling to keep going. “Luna, I forgive you and I trust you with Gosling’s life, just like I trust you with the lives of our subjects. You are a different pony now. Let the distant past remain behind us.” Celestia’s ears twitched when she heard Luna’s sharp exhalation.
Beside her, Luna’s barrel began hitching and Celestia readied herself to be the big sister that Luna needed. With each shudder, with each sob, it felt as though a dulled, cruel razor was dragged over Celestia’s heart.
“What do we do with one another?” Celestia asked as her sister struggled to swallow her sobs. “We must come to an agreement. Gosling, I would like to know how you feel about this…”
A powerful wave of nausea prevented Gosling from replying right away. He looked up, looking into Celestia’s eyes as she looked down at him. The soft sounds of Luna’s sobbing caused a terrible pain to go lancing through his guts. She might be the night terror that had almost scared him to death in the hallway, but she was also a mare, a mare with emotions, feelings, and a tender heart. He pitied her.
“Gosling?”
“I will do my duty,” Gosling replied, saying what he felt was the proper response.
Looking up, he saw Celestia shake her head. He saw the flash of disappointment in her eyes. That disappointment stung. Gosling cringed and knew that he had made a mistake. He braced himself as Celestia opened her mouth to speak.
“I asked you how you feel, Gosling, I wanted to know how you felt about this, and instead, you reply with words spoken from a sense of duty and devotion, rather than your own feelings. I had thought you better than this. I do not want blind obedience from you, I can get that from any mindless grunt. I had such high expectations of you.”
It was almost too much for his stomach to bear. Gosling felt bile bubbling in the back of his throat. He swallowed, shuddering as he did so, and squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t cry. He curled into a tighter, more miserable ball, feeling ashamed of himself. Celestia’s rebuke stung.
The problem was, that was how he felt about it. He would do anything for Celestia. He had stuck his neck out earlier. His stomach gurgled and acid burned the back of his nose, searing his sinuses.
“Forgive me, but everything I do will be done out of a sense of duty to you,” Gosling said in a raspy voice that bubbled from his lips. “That cannot be changed. I do not know Luna like I know you. I do not love her. But I am willing to be her friend and companion, if she will allow me. Surely there is some sort of arrangement that we can work out between ourselves.”
“Luna… we face a predicament,” Celestia said to her sister. “I am uncertain if there is a way out of this. I understand if you do not wish to open your life to Gosling. I will not force you into this unwillingly, just as I will not force Gosling into this.” Pain was evident in Celestia’s voice and it hurt Gosling to hear it.
“I will call this off if necessary, and put mine own happiness aside,” Celestia offered.
“No!” Luna said, shaking her head. “I’ll not be the one responsible for hurting you again. Some arrangement can be reached.”
“Luna, this will become a very prickly affair. If you and Gosling have no interest in each other, and you find love in another, it will complicate things greatly. Such a scandal would harm us a great deal. Our rule already sits in a precarious position. I will not have my happiness at the expense of your own. I will not drag you into a relationship or a marriage that you have no interest in.”
“I never even had a chance to mourn poor Bronze Blaze.” Sniffling, now sobbing, tears streaming, Luna wiped her snotty nose against her sister’s neck. “Sister, how can you trust me with Gosling after what I did to the husband we shared?”
Even though he said nothing, Gosling was curious about that himself. He bore Luna no ill will, and had no intention of holding her past against her, but he was curious about Celestia and her thoughts.
Before Celestia had a chance to say anything, Luna asked, “What of Castor and Pollux?” Gosling saw Celestia flinch in pain, and he felt her leg jerk beneath his head. His tongue felt dry and leathery and Gosling coughed.
“Who are Castor and Pollux?” Gosling asked, fearing the answer.
“Two foals that never knew their mother and lost their father,” Luna replied in a strangled voice. “Sister, what did you tell them?”
Gosling felt Celestia jerk again, and then he heard her say, “I told them that their mother had died. I felt it would be better for them that way.” There was a painful, pregnant pause, then she continued, “I told them that Nightmare Moon killed their parents. I’m sorry, Luna.”
The words made Gosling go limp. He did not know how to respond, how to react, there were no words. He listened to the sounds of Luna’s muffled sobbing and the wet sound of Celestia swallowing.
“Castor and Pollux knew loss. As triplets, they lost their brother in birth, then their mother and father. They grew up strong and brave though.” Celestia shook her head. “They grew to be amazing ponies.”
Something about Celestia’s words caught Gosling’s attention and he thought about it as he lay upon the cushions. The implications of what she had said tumbled around in his mind. There was just too much going on to keep up with any one part of this conversation.
“Triplets?” he asked. He heard a sigh from Celestia.
“There is much you haven’t been told yet,” Celestia replied, “and I am not sure if now is the time.”
“But, triplets,” Gosling said, focused upon this part of this meandering conversation.
“Alicorns have some peculiarities in breeding.” Luna snuffled and wiped her nose against her sister’s neck once more. She rubbed her eyes with her foreleg as she tried to compose herself. “When my sister and I breed with one of you little ponies, we have triplets.”
“An earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn,” Celestia said for clarification, paying no attention as her sister cleaned her snotty nose against her neck. “I have no idea why.”
Confused, Gosling said, “But Cadance—”
“Was not born an alicorn like us, she was born a pegasus.” Celestia held her head high, sniffled a bit, and wiped her eyes with her wing. “Gosling, more will be explained in time.”
Looking up, Gosling could see Celestia looking down at him. He heard her say, “Can you make a trip, Gosling? I’ll carry you, if need be. I feel there is something we need to do.”
“A trip?” Luna asked as she blinked away a few remaining tears.
“Luna, dearest sister, you never got a chance to mourn Bronze Blaze or say goodbye. Perhaps it is time for that to be rectified.” Celestia drew in a deep breath. “Come, let us get cleaned up once again and then make a trip under the cover of darkness. Perhaps the cool night air will be good for Gosling. I know it will be good for you, Luna.”
Before he could reply, Gosling felt himself lifted in magic. It seemed that he was about to take a trip. The day had already been long. He had awakened before dawn, seen and witnessed much already this day, and it seemed as though the night was just getting started. As he looked up at Celestia, he realised that her horn was not glowing—she was not the one who had lifted him with so much tenderness and care.
The cold night air helped to clear Gosling’s head and eased his feelings of feverish fatigue. He didn’t need to do much other than glide as he followed after Celestia and Luna in the dark. They had left without guards, departing without so much as a word, taking flight from Celestia’s balcony. Luna had carried Gosling for a time, but the cold air had helped him to recover and come to his senses.
He was dead tired. It had been a long day. The past few days had been trying. Gosling was stressed almost to his breaking point, or at least it felt that way, each time he reached a point where he was certain that he was done for, he found a little more of himself to give. He thought of what Raven had said about dumping him into the crucible. It seemed that he was already there.
Is this what it would be like as Celestia’s consort? Going from one crisis to the next while scrambling to find happiness in those precious quiet moments in between? Always wondering when the next crisis was going to arise? Gosling was becoming privy to the sorts of things that common ponies didn’t know about. He had seen the alicorns, the very ponies that many saw as goddesses, sweat, bleed, and suffer. He had seen Celestia at both her best and her worst. A little over a week ago Cadance had introduced him to the real Celestia, with chapped, bloodied, chewed up lips, over-preened wings, and a face full of nervous tics.
She was as flesh and blood as he was. Since that time, his entire world and everything he believed in had been turned upside down. He had been introduced to the real power players of Equestria. He had been shown a reality that he wasn’t sure that he was comfortable with. He had seen a viciousness in his fellow ponies that made his own experiences in secondary school pale in comparison.
And now, he was gliding through the dark of the night, following after two sisters, one whom he loved and the other he seemed tangled up with, following them into the Everfree forest, doing so without question or reservation. What was wrong with him? Sane ponies didn’t go into the Everfree at night. What would his mother say? He hoped that she was okay. Maybe she was in her apartment, having some quiet time, or perhaps she was with Twilight Velvet and Night Light.
He wondered what his mother would say if he married Luna. How would she feel? How would she respond? Gosling didn’t love Luna, but he respected her. Celestia’s disappointment over his response still stung, he didn’t like letting her down and causing her to be dismayed with him, but his answer had been honest. He would do whatever was required of him—he would do his duty, whatever that might be, and he would do so without complaining. His mother taught him that a stallion—and a husband—did whatever needed to be done and did so without complaining. No shirking. Shirkers deserved to have their ears boxed.
Perhaps some arrangement might be reached. Gosling intended to pull Luna aside and speak to her in private. In the back of his mind, he wondered about all sorts of things, like if the sisters ever became jealous while sharing a husband. How did that work? How did herd marriages work, anyway? Careful arrangements and agreements? Ponies could be possessive. Gosling knew that he was possessive. He didn’t know what to make of this and he was far too fatigued to give it clear, concise thought. All of his current thoughts were jumbled and tumbled together in his mind.
Below, a ruined castle loomed large in the darkness, illuminated by the moon and stars above. Gosling knew this place, he had heard the stories, he knew the history. This was the castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, the place where Princess Celestia had done battle with Nightmare Moon to save Equestria from eternal darkness.
In silence, Gosling followed the two sisters as they navigated a treacherous path down some crumbling stairs. They had entered into some dark, spooky mausoleum, gone through a heavy door that had been remarkably well preserved as well as sealed with magic, and then down deeper into some catacombs.
Deeper and deeper they went, passing by old urns, bone shelves, and statues of ponies now forgotten by all, except for perhaps the sisters themselves. Gosling followed in silence, his stomach still hurting, his back muscles spasming from stress. Spiders scurried away as the sisters brought light into the darkness. The dust was thick and undisturbed.
Gosling saw statues of alicorns as they passed. He wanted to ask questions but didn’t. This place had a strange magic all its own, it was solemn, sad, there was something in the air that made him feel mournful. One of the alicorn statues looked like a young filly, perhaps about his own age. He wondered if it was just a statue, or if it was a representation of a real pony.
“Luna, dearest sister…”
“Yes?”
“This might be difficult to see.”
“That is to be expected, when visiting the grave of your long dead husband.”
“No… Luna… you shall see soon enough.”
The sisters lapsed into silence once more and Gosling followed. He turned and looked at a statue of an alicorn stallion and saw a nameplate mounted on the stone. Tempus. There was much to be learned here, but Gosling remained in silence. He wondered who Tempus was and what he was like. What did Tempus do?
At long last, they came to a small crypt deep within the catacombs. Celestia touched the door with her horn, which made it glow for a second, and then the door opened. Celestia stepped aside from the door and allowed Luna to enter.
The crypt was rather large, narrow in width and long in length. There were several statues in the room. Gosling followed after Celestia, who went in after Luna. Almost right away, Luna stopped before a dusty, cobwebby statue of an alicorn. Gosling heard her sharp inhale of breath.
“Luna, beloved sister, devoted mother, adored wife…” Luna’s words were little more than a faint whisper as she spoke, reading the plaque.
It took Gosling a moment to realise that he was looking at a statue of Luna. He stared, stupefied, unable to say or do anything. Behind the statue was an urn tucked into a cubby in the wall. The statue was Luna sized and every detail had been captured. Gosling took a step backwards, it felt wrong to be here, it felt wrong to be witnessing this moment of shock and grief. He bumped into the door, but found that it had closed and would not open.
“Castor and Pollux needed a way to mourn their mother,” Celestia said, offering a whispered explanation. “In time, the truth became muddled and muddied… Nightmare Moon murdered many that night, including the beloved Princess Luna, the quiet, sometimes impish but funny Princess of the Night.”
It became so quiet that Gosling could hear tears splashing down upon the dusty floor, like a faucet left dripping. The colt didn’t even want to breathe—he didn’t wish to disturb anything. He stood with his backside against the door, his eyes stinging, fighting back his own tears.
“Many mourned your passing. Those that loved you were more than you know.” Celestia bowed her head and gazed at her sister through half closed eyes. “I am sorry, Luna.”
Stepping forwards past her own statue and memorial, Luna went further into the crypt. She stopped at another statue, this one smaller, it was mounted on the wall. She lowered her head, her ears were twitching, and her whole body trembled. Gosling watched in silence as she touched the statue with quivering lips, kissing it for a moment, and Luna closed her eyes as her lips lingered against the stone.
Gosling wanted to be anywhere other than here right now. This was almost too painful to witness and he wasn’t certain he could bear it much longer. He could see the pain etched upon Celestia’s face. For something that had happened a thousand years ago, the agonised expression upon Celestia’s face made it seem as though it had only happened yesterday.
“Bronze Blaze, I am sorry,” Luna murmured as she opened up her eyes and pulled her lips away. She extended one wing and caressed the statue’s cheek. “He was a pony of the day. I longed to have him spend the night with me, but he always fell asleep. He was such a hard worker. I was so selfish and asked so much of him.”
“And he was always so happy to give you whatever he could,” Celestia said to her sister. “He was an earth pony like no other.”
Ears perking, Gosling could no longer keep quiet. “He was an earth pony?”
Both Luna and Celestia nodded.
There were a million questions that Gosling wanted to ask, but he kept them to himself. Now was not the time. His ears drooped back down as he watched Celestia and Luna move further down the long passage that was the crypt.
“Castor and Pollux,” Luna said as she stopped before two statues, one of a pegasus and the other a unicorn. She looked at them, her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Gosling could see his mother, Sleet’s face, in place of Luna’s.
“Castor was a brilliant tactician but also a wastrel,” Celestia said to her sister in a soft, warm voice.
Luna’s head jerked about and she looked at Celestia wide eyed. She blinked a few times, tears streaming down her cheeks, and looked surprised by what her sister had said.
“Castor never married. He refused. He did however, sire hundreds of foals. Every place he went, there would be a rash of births eleven months later. He was prolific.” Celestia shook her head and her ears drooped. “I could never reach him.”
Luna began wiping her eyes with her foreleg while sniffling. “I suppose I should be proud.” She let out a cough, sniffled some more, then asked, “And what of Pollux? Please tell me that one of my sons was respectable and was not a progenitor of bastards.”
“Pollux had some real magical talent. He settled down early, married at the age of twelve, served the Empire with his mind, sired six foals that lived into adulthood, and died at the ripe old age of forty one, having had two wives. The first died in foalbirth when she was fourteen after five years of marriage. She had two foals that lived into adulthood. His second wife gave him four foals that lived into adulthood and she survived to the age of twenty one, enjoying twelve years of marriage. She was greatly loved by all those who knew her. Pollux adored her and understood the value of a good wife after having outlived his first.”
Gosling was stunned by what he heard. He saw Luna nodding, a look of relief upon her face. He saw Celestia’s head turn and he could see her rose coloured eyes looking at him, reflecting the light from her horn.
“Those were very different times, Gosling,” he heard Celestia say. He couldn’t argue with that. He swallowed, his mouth felt dry and dusty. Tears were still streaming down Luna’s cheeks; Gosling wanted to go to her and comfort her, but he remained rooted to the spot. Right now, things were complicated between himself and Luna.
“Did I have a nice funeral?” Luna asked.
Celestia nodded, chewed on her lip for a moment, then found the words to respond. “Yes you did. I delivered a stirring eulogy. Castor ate part of your funerary wreath because he was hungry and sad.”
Gosling couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, delivering the eulogy of the pony that had just tried to kill you and had killed your husband. It was a scenario that he had trouble even fathoming, yet this was something that Celestia had lived through and endured.
“His hunger was unmatched. He was a no good teat biter.” Luna nodded in a wistful, knowing manner and stepped away from the two statues. “I desire fresh air and no longer wish to fill my lungs with the miasmas from this resting place of the dead.”
Gosling saw Luna looking at him, and he could not read her expression. Her eyes were sad though, and full of regret. After a moment, she looked up at her sister and he heard her say, “I am sorry. I feel so bad—”
“Luna, I wish you would quit punishing yourself,” Celestia said, cutting her sister off.
“I too, wish I could stop punishing myself,” Luna replied. “Come, I wish to be away from this place. Gosling is exhausted and only remains upon his hooves out of a foolish sense of duty to the both of us.”
Nodding, Celestia caressed her sister’s cheek with her wingtip. “Let us go and return home…”
When Celestia departed to go and check in so that their absence could be explained, Gosling approached Luna right away, knowing that he had a perfect chance to speak to her alone. He was worried, they were all emotional right now, but something needed to be said and he had an opportunity.
“Princess Luna?” Gosling bowed his head and tried to look as respectful as possible as he approached.
“Yes?” Luna’s eyebrow arched and a look of cautious curiousity could be seen upon her face.
“I was hoping to speak with you, while we had the chance.” Gosling looked around Celestia’s personal chambers and thought about everything he hoped to say. He swallowed and wished that he had a drink of water. He felt a little dehydrated, the flight back had been exhausting, as it had been all about altitude gain to return to Canterlot.
“I am listening,” Luna replied. That arched eyebrow portrayed endless strength...
“Princess Luna—”
“You will call me Luna,” Luna commanded. The sort of strength that held up a crown.
“Luna…” Gosling bowed his head. “We both have something in common.” He lifted his head and looked at Luna. “We both want Celestia to be happy. I wish to be practical about this issue and hope that we can find an amicable arrangement.”
Eyebrow still arched, Luna listened.
Terrified, Gosling plowed onwards. “I just want Celestia to be happy. I have… I have strong feelings for her already. There is just something about her. I know that you want your sister to be happy. I will do anything you ask of me… I will be your slave if you will give me the chance to make her happy—”
“Stop.” Luna’s voice was a soft whisper, but it made Gosling stop. He froze and he felt sweat rolling down his neck. His stomach churned and he heard a squelch from deep within himself. He felt a cold prickle of fear at the base of his dock that went creeping up his spine, to his neck, up his crest, and then he felt his ears grow cold.
Luna drew herself up to her full height, towering over Gosling by a full head, and said, “You do not need to convince me. You and I shall make an arrangement, but I need time to think, and you do as well. Have no fears, Gosling, I will do nothing that will jeopardise our impending marriage.”
At these words, Gosling let out a fearful whimper. His ears drooped and he looked embarrassed, but it had escaped him before he could trap it within himself. He felt icy cold sweat trickling down the inside of his thighs and all around his groin.
“Be calm, my little pony,” Luna said in a low, soft voice that very few ponies ever got a chance to hear. “I can give a hundred years of my life to my sister. She deserves that. The time will pass like flowing water.” Luna’s eyes narrowed. “As for the two of us… we can be friends. We can work together for political gain. We can be allies and you can be a pony I can trust.”
Gosling nodded, glad that Luna, Princess of the Night, seemed propitiated.
“Or perhaps, in time, we shall grow to love one another.” Luna shrugged. “Make my sister happy, and I shall be your most devoted servant.”
Bowing his head, Gosling nodded, but never took his eyes off of Luna’s. It felt as though he had sand in the back of his throat. “Majesty, it is I who should serve you.”
“Are we to argue upon who serveth who?” Luna asked.
Freezing in place, Gosling did not know how to reply. Luna was a far smarter pony than he was and no doubt, she was testing him. Everypony was testing him. Was this the crucible that Raven had spoke of? Everything was now a test. He thought of Celestia’s disappointment with him and how much it still hurt. He was so tense that breathing was painful. He wanted a drink. He was starting to feel sick again—a wave of nausea washed over him, causing him to feel lightheaded and dizzy. He didn’t want to barf on Luna again, it would be pushing his luck for certain if he did it twice in one night.
“You will do whatever you can to make me happy out of a desire to make my sister happy, and while I respect that, even admire it, it is not the same as trying to make me happy for the sake of making me happy.” Luna’s voice was cool and collected, and her expression was one of utter calm. “Perhaps when you approach me with a genuine concern for my interests, I shall reevaluate my feelings and desire to have you as both a bedmate and a sire for my foals.”
Before Gosling could reply, Luna vanished in a flash of light and ozone.
Standing in the doorway, Celestia looked upon Gosling as he slept. She felt a lonesome ache in her heart as she looked at him. His sleeping face looked troubled, his ears twitched, and he whimpered in his sleep. She could hear his troubled stomach gurgling from where she stood.
A small bed had been brought in for him during the week he had stayed with her in her chambers at Cadance’s command. A small sitting room had been repurposed so that he might have a space to sleep.
Blinking, sighing, Celestia wished that he was in bed with her. She missed having a warm body in her bed. When Cadance was little, Cadance had slept with her, and there had been sleepovers with Twilight and Cadance both. A smile caused the corners of Celestia’s mouth to curl upwards as she thought about the happy memory. She had fond, warm memories of little Twilight’s bedtime checklist, each little box had to be checked off, or she could never go to sleep.
She admired Gosling’s resilience. So far, he was handling all of this rather well. He had been thrust into the gauntlet with little preparation and he had dealt with blow after blow. He had charm and panache. His youthful vitality and verve for life made him endearing, both to her, to Luna, and no doubt, the press.
Still, she worried. Gosling wouldn’t just be marrying her—he would be marrying a nation. All of her duties would extend to him as well. He would have to be responsible. He would have to serve. It wasn’t enough to just be a consort, no, she would never allow that. Celestia wanted a helpmate as well as a bedwarmer. There was a tremendous amount of work that Gosling would have to take on.
Celestia’s job wasn’t easy. She had to go back to school soon herself. There was a whole new field of science that she needed to know about so that she might make better, more well informed decisions. Aside from gelotology, which Celestia was eager to learn more about, there was the far more pressing issue of sustainable ecology. Natural resources weren’t infinite and a wise ruler squandered nothing.
Sighing, Celestia stepped into the room where Gosling slept, so that she might kiss him upon his cheek before she went to bed. The day had been long, far too long, and she was weary. A part of her wanted to lift Gosling and steal him away to her bed, but she knew he would be upset. Sleeping together was something married ponies did. There were too many embarrassing issues, like morning wood in need of waxing.
Reaching his side, she lowered her head, kissed him, and then backed away, wishing the days would pass so that she might have him in her bed, so that she might know blissful, happy slumber.
The smell of strong coffee was like a slap in the face when Gosling entered Raven’s offices. The scent was so strong that he had an involuntary shudder that made his whole body shake and caused his ears stick straight out from his skull. His armor clanked as he tried to recover.
“You can take off your helmet and armor if you wish,” Raven said as she looked up at Gosling. “You’ll have a nice, quiet, relaxing morning in here with me. I mean that, I’m not trying to scare you or anything. I need your help.”
“Okay,” Gosling said as he began trying to get his helmet off.
“Have some coffee,” Raven said in an inviting voice. “You look a little rough. You feeling okay?”
“I’m not feeling good,” Gosling admitted in reply as he set his helmet down upon a battered wooden table by the door that was covered with beat up looking courier bags, scroll tubes, and wadded up rain cloaks.
“Stress.” Raven said the word with a dismissive huff and made a waving gesture with her hoof. “This is the life we’ve chosen. It isn’t easy, but this is a job like any other. Somepony has to do it.”
Gosling, who had shrugged off his armor, set it down upon the table beside his helmet. He turned, his muscles tensing, and he looked at Raven. “What will I be doing?”
Raven gave a sidelong glance at the telegraph bench not too far away from where she was sitting and she pointed with her hoof. “I understand that you’re close to having your mastery certification in the operation of a telegraph.”
Blushing, Gosling kicked his right front hoof with his left front hoof. He nodded, feeling bashful and not knowing why. Perhaps it was the faint praise he thought he might be hearing in Raven’s voice. “I’ll be the youngest operator with mastery certification once I have it. My hooves are fast, quick, and skillful.”
“Celestia is certain to declare them a national treasure,” Raven said in a flat deadpan.
Choking, Gosling, provoked by Raven’s statement, had his brain flooded with an idea of what he could do with his hooves. There were places on a mare that he could tap out a love letter and send quite a message. His face burned with inner fire and the heat in his ears was painful.
“Have a cup of coffee,” Raven said to Gosling as she chuckled, “and then get ready to get some work done.” She gave Gosling a wink, lifted her pen, and then went to work, finishing the dispatch on the desk in front of her.
Entering Raven’s office, Celestia had herself a look around. Gosling was hard at work at the telegraph. She paused for a moment and admired the speed at which his hoof was moving. She felt a shiver and then tried not to think dirty thoughts as she bit her lip. A hoof like that against the right places on her body… the thought made her nostrils flare and she felt her dock clench in a most delightful way.
She set down a stack of papers into a basket on Raven’s desk, then cleared her throat. “Raven, the morning petitions.”
“I was coming to get those,” Raven said in an apologetic voice. “It wasn’t time to pick them up yet.”
“I don’t mind,” Celestia replied. “I was finished a little early, so I thought I’d drop in.”
“And see Gosling?” Raven grinned up at Celestia.
“Of course.” Celestia beamed and glanced over at Gosling, who was still hard at work, hunched over the bench. Those hooves! Distracted, Celestia stared until she heard Raven clearing her throat. She returned her attention to Raven.
“Damage report from last night.” Raven sat up straight and did her best to look serious. “Twilight released most of the reporters before she uh, began her public lecture on the social contract of civility, but she detained the instigators and the known troublemakers. Turns out Twilight has a knack for remembering faces and cutie marks.”
“Oh dear,” Celestia gasped. She wondered when Twilight might start rounding up troublemakers on a regular basis for lecturing. The thought was worrisome and she made a mental note to have a word with Twilight. The lecture halls had to be at least inviting and comfortable and could look nothing like camps.
“Twilight has returned to Ponyville with her parents and Spike. She’s a very busy princess. She also left a message with me.” Raven set down her pen.
“And that message is?” Celestia asked.
“Twilight says that she approves. She also said not to be too harsh on Cadance—”
“Those two little hooligans are plotting against me!” Celestia cried in a shocked voice. “I’m so proud… but I still want to wring Cadance’s neck because of what she did. Ugh, I feel so conflicted.” Celestia’s brows furrowed. “I can’t believe I was outsmarted by a foal.”
“You taught them to be devious, you said it would be beneficial.” Raven paused so that her remark would have time to sink in and she began to organise the papers on her desk with her magic. She lifted the papers that Celestia had placed in the basket and began to sort through those as well, applying little stickers of various colours to the different signed documents, and placing them in colour coded bins.
“So, how is the new telegraph operator?” Celestia asked. She saw Gosling’s ears perk as she spoke and felt warmth go blooming through her heart. He was adorable. She glanced down at Raven and saw the ghost of a smile upon Raven’s muzzle.
“He’s fast,” Raven replied, “he’s already cleared through most of the night’s backlog. Remains to be seen if he’s accurate, but I’ve been assured that he is. I think he’ll get more done before noon than most of my previous help managed to do with a full day.”
“Might I have him for lunch?” Celestia asked.
“You want to eat poor Private Gosling?” Raven stared upwards at the white alicorn before her with a look of mock horror. “Do you have any idea what sort of scandal that might cause?” Raven paused and shook her head. “As your most trusted assistant, I must ask that you reconsider any acts of cannibalism.”
Turning pink, Celestia’s jaw moved, but no words came. What could she say? It was a slip of the tongue. She heard Gosling chortling and she hoped that she hadn’t caused him to be distracted from his task. Sending flawless dispatches was of vital importance. Equestria depended upon error-free communications. She glanced at Gosling and sucked air in through now clenched teeth. Those hocks of his were delicious looking—Gosling had thrusting legs. He also had a trim, athletic backside.
“You’re drooling,” Raven said in a disgusted voice.
With a slurp, Celestia rid herself of the evidence of said drooling, sucking up the ribbon of slobber that was dribbling down her chin. “No I’m not!” She felt mortified. She was behaving very much like a school filly… in fact, she was acting a bit like Cadance did when she began to have a life threatening crush on Shining Armor. Poor Cadance, who couldn’t go back to school because she had popped a wingboner in class and was going to die from embarrassment if she ever showed her face in public ever again.
It was last night, Celestia thought to herself. Gosling had come in to save both her and her sister Luna. Gosling might not always do the right thing, but he could be counted on to act. He was young and impetuous, but that could be harnessed and utilised. Last night, Gosling had shown himself to be the sort of pony that she could love, wholly and without reservation.
“You’re still staring at my telegraph operator,” Raven said to Celestia, “the one you threatened to eat.”
Turning her head, Celestia leveled her most magisterial stare upon her secretary and most trusted assistant. It was a stare that she had spent centuries practicing. It was a stare that had prevented wars and ended conflicts before they even started. Raven did not appear to be impressed.
“I am going to go and read the morning papers,” Celestia said in a dismissive voice, “and check in on the strategic gossip with Blueblood.” Saying nothing else, Celestia turned and departed from the room, but cast a final glance over her shoulder so she could get one last look at Gosling.
A steaming half full cup of tea sat before Blueblood, beside it was a half eaten croissant upon a small plate with exquisite gold leaf, and newspapers were scattered all around him. Celestia could not help but think that Blueblood was in his element. The chemical smell of ink was heavy in the room and made her nostrils crinkle as it tickled the back of her throat.
Steady, confident strides carried her across the room and brought her to the table where Blueblood worked. As she sat down, she felt the first stabs of worry, the unmanageable sort of worry, the kind that bore down upon one’s withers and crushed the spirit. She eased her rounded, plush bottom down upon a soft, fluffy cushion that was beside the table. She sank into the pillow, wobbled for a moment as she got her balance, and then sat with her head high. Being so tall was hazardous.
“Well?” Celestia asked, one word saying all that needed to be said.
Eyebrow arching, Blueblood raised his cup of tea to his lips, took a small polite sip, and then set his cup down. The faint scent of anise and blackcurrant filled the air. He looked at Celestia, then his eyes darted from paper to paper.
“Where to begin…” Blueblood said in a voice reminiscent of the finest, smoothest silk.
“Nephew,” Celestia replied, acknowledging his words, “I need your summation of opinions being presented. Have I arrived too early?”
“No.” Blueblood took another sip of tea and then leaned over the table as he put his cup back down. “For once, I honestly do not know where to begin. I was not intending to be a tease, but I am still sorting everything out.”
Nodding, Celestia understood that she wasn’t being toyed with. She valued Blueblood’s opinions and his ability to discern the needs of the public, it was almost as if he practiced some obscure form of divination. She would just have to wait.
Eyes narrowing, Blueblood looked his aunt in the eye. “The Las Pegasus Picayune’s senior reporter has a very well written, very eloquent opinion piece in the paper that expresses full support of both you and Luna being married to Gosling, ‘as it should be.’ In one very well written article, he makes the argument for a return to traditional values, sending a powerful message of extended family, and that Luna, who is still a bit of an enigma for the common pony, will be made all the more approachable by having a ‘commoner’ husband. He expresses his opinion that Luna will gain an appreciation and an understanding for the common classes through Gosling, who while he is a traditionalist, is still a very modern pony. He is a fine mix of old and new.”
“Interesting,” Celestia said as she studied her nephew.
“There are more supporters than detractors.” Blueblood took a moment to nibble his croissant, took a sip of tea, and rolled a highlighter pen over the tabletop with his magic. “Gosling is charming, witty, and comical. Many in the press can’t wait to see what he does next. While I will admit, this is not an ideal image for him, in my opinion, it is an image we can work with.”
An image was give and take. The press formed their idea of a public image, Blueblood’s Department of Image formed their own take on a well crafted public persona, and then after a little give and take with the press, a pony would be created, coached, refined, and offered up for public consumption. Said pony would be a fine tuned creation, offering up just what the public both wanted and needed.
“We need to get Gosling back into school,” Blueblood muttered as he shuffled a few papers around. “The image of a young romantic fool will only work so long before ponies begin to get concerned. They need something that inspires a bit more confidence in their rulership. Gosling’s image will be easier to sell to the public if he was the young romantic fool that was maturing into the well-educated, erudite, romantic prince that seeks to better himself so that he might better serve his beloved princesses. That is a preferable image, and one that we can market.”
Blueblood paused, his eyes narrowed into slits, then one eye opened while the other remained almost shut. He stared at his aunt and his head tilted off to one side. A few wrinkles appeared on the top of his muzzle.
“Auntie, what is your opinion on all of this? Are you fine with sharing with your sister?”
“What sort of question is that?” Celestia asked, the sound of faint irritation audible in her voice. Her own eyes narrowed as she regarded her nephew, trying to read him. Blueblood was a tough pony to read and his face was scrunched up in such a ridiculous way that discerning his actual mood was an almost impossible task.
“The question that needs to be asked.” Blueblood’s ears splayed out sideways as he engaged his aunt in a staring match, a silent, unspoken contest of wills. It was a dangerous game and she was capable of destroying him with one nostril flared in a most perfect way. Blueblood hoped that she would not resort to the devastating nostril option.
Celestia’s nostril twitched, but did not flare as she stared at her nephew. The silence became a physical thing, it scurried over the walls like invisible roaches swarming a room, and then Celestia slumped over. “What can I say, Blueblood? That I don’t want my sister to be happy?”
“You can always be honest with me… you know I can be trusted,” Blueblood said in a soft, worried voice that almost sounded… wounded. “I love you, Auntie, and I am one of your most devoted servants. I would die for you. And if you kept me in the dark, it would be insulting.”
Sighing, nodding, Celestia, still slumped over, stared down at the table. “I don’t mind sharing, that’s not the issue. We have in the past… for me, it is a perfectly normal thing to do. In fact, I prefer it. There is a comfort in knowing exactly how my sister’s husband will behave towards her, how he will treat her, and knowing that he is caring for her needs.” Celestia sucked in a deep breath, blinked, and then continued, “What is bothering me is that Luna might feel coerced and wrangled into this against her will, but will go through with it for the sake of my happiness because she still feels so guilty about what she has done. I have no way of knowing what Luna’s true motivations are in this issue. She will tell me what she thinks I want to hear and there is no force on this planet that could make Luna reveal her inner workings on this matter.”
Unmoving, almost stupefied, Blueblood blinked a few times. He did not respond, at least not with words, as he had no idea what to say.
As Blueblood struggled to take in everything just said, Celestia continued to let it all out. “Cadance duped us into confronting this issue from our past… leaving it in the past is not the same as dealing with it, I see that now, but we still have a sticky issue to deal with in the present. Luna will do anything to appease me, she will do anything to punish herself, and I worry that she will follow me into marriage for my sake without taking her own needs into consideration. I worry that she will invite Gosling into her bed, couple with him, and do so without love, all for the sake of obligation and to offer up the illusion that everything is okay for the sake of my happiness.”
Blueblood remained silent.
“I am a little afraid to go forwards as I cannot trust that Luna will be totally honest with me. Everything she says and does will be clouded with my suspicion that she is either punishing herself or attempting to make me happy. I fear that I will never have true peace of mind on this issue.” Reaching up with her foreleg, Celestia wiped her eyes and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “I am also conflicted because I know deep down in my heart that I will allow Gosling to go to her bed, part her thighs, and couple with her with the hopes that somehow, he will reach her, that she will have some moment of connection, some realisation of love, and be happy.”
Rubbing his front hooves together, Blueblood’s brow furrowed.
“Already, I am entertaining these foolish fantasies that Gosling will somehow reach Luna, make her feel loved, banish her loneliness in much the same way that he is easing mine, and she will have a happy, fulfilling life with him… I even dreamed about it last night and I woke up with this stupid, happy grin on my face.” Celestia’s voice lowered and became husky. “He just rolled her over onto her belly and took her as I watched, and she became happy, all of her troubles just melting away.” Shaking her head, Celestia sighed. “That is not how one fixes a troubled pony.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Blueblood said in a very serious voice, knowing that he was treading on thin ice, “for some ponies, the physical aspect of love comes first. You tend to focus on emotional connections, Auntie. You make emotional connections and then over time, allow for intimate contact.”
Fearful, Blueblood could see that he had Celestia’s attention. He looked at her and felt his frogs begin sweating. His ears felt hot and itchy. He had to keep going, he had already committed himself.
“Princess Luna strikes me as a very physical pony,” Blueblood continued, “and for her, having the physical connection might be just what she needs to make the emotional connection. I know that is how it is for me.”
“Would you mind expanding upon that?” Celestia asked in a voice thick with embarrassment.
His face grew hot, sweat poured from his frogs, and Blueblood feared that he would need a shower before this was over. He could feel his mane clinging to his neck. He had to keep going, no matter how embarrassing this might be. Anything for his beloved Empire…
“Raven and I loathed one another,” Blueblood began in a quiet, strained voice. “We only tolerated one another for the sake of our professionalism. We both disgusted one another. She hated me, I hated her, there was a mutual sense of loathing.” Blueblood drew in a deep breath, and decided upon a condensed version with as few details as possible.
“Cadance meddled with us, as Cadance is wont to do, and after much of her meddling, Raven and I had ourselves a good old fashioned hate screw. There was kicking, there was biting, there was bruising, we both took a tumble down the stairs together, fighting the whole way down, each of us trying to make the other take the brunt of the damage…” Blueblood’s words trailed off and he turned away from his aunt, unable to bear looking at her. Sweat rolled down his neck and he felt soiled, sullied, and out of sorts.
He blinked a few times, took a deep breath, then another, and then continued, “For us, after several such, uh… encounters, we realised that there was a genuine sense of love and affection between us. We just couldn’t express it like normal ponies. So I learned to chuck wine bottles at her head… but I would never hit her of course…. and she would flog me with riding crops. I behave badly and she punishes me… puts me in my place… robs me of my power. But we had to have a physical connection before the emotional one had a chance to blossom.”
“I see,” Celestia said in a voice that was just a little squeaky.
“And uh, well…” Blueblood cleared his throat and stared up at the ceiling. “In light of the Tantabus incident, perhaps what Luna needs is somepony to punish her, uh, paddle her in a very loving and corrective way and let her know that she is a bad, bad pony that is in dire need of strict, stern discipline of the corporal punishment variety—”
“Well, Blueblood, it was lovely talking to you… I have to go… I need to go and pour weak acid down into my ears!” Celestia rose in a hurry, her eyes wide, fearful, and horrified. She shook her head. “This conversation never happened… when we speak again, this will not be mentioned. I… I am going to go and have a drink. A strong one. Alcohol is in fact, a solution, according to science. I bid you good day.”
And with that, Celestia vanished.
“I was just trying to be helpful,” Blueblood murmured to the now empty room. He sighed and his ears drooped in a dejected manner against his face. “I’m a bad pony…”
The castle seemed somehow calm and sedate as the noontime hour approached. Sure, there was a lot going on. There was a press crisis, but there was always a press crisis of some sort going on. A very special visitor was coming in from out of town. There was the quiet talk of sabotage and the growing threat to the Empire. Many blamed changelings, as talking about the Equalists felt far too scary and changelings were a familiar threat that everypony could understand. Even during its most calming moments, life in the castle was like life in a pressure cooker. There was always something going on here. This was not a home, not a refuge, not a place where one went to seek solace from the world. This was the beating heart of the Empire.
And truth be told, Celestia thought about leaving it for a while. Oh, she couldn’t, of course—there was far too much to do, threats to look after, the Empire had to be managed. But she thought about it. She thought about how nice it might be to take both Gosling and her sister, then go off somewhere pleasant and spend time together. Still, it might be nice.
Perhaps it might be nice to pay the Crystal Empire a visit. She could get ahold of Cadance’s ear and then she could…
Oh, ho ho ho… Celestia reigned in her maternal thoughts. She had to respect Cadance, even if she didn’t agree with Cadance’s doings. Cadance had her own way of doing things, a unique perspective that had been developed during her time as a foalsitter. Cadance was the sort that made foals want to take their medicine, she was wily, clever, and crafty. Twilight in particular was a troublesome foal when it came to medicine, and Celestia felt a shiver along her spine when she thought about the dreaded calendar dates that marked when Twilight had to take ear mite medicine. Twilight took having burning liquid poured down her ears as a personal affront and defended herself as though she was fighting in an active war.
Looking back upon it all, it was easy to see why Twilight had grown up to be known as Equestria’s Warrior Princess, and it was all Cadance’s fault. Yep, Celestia felt confident that all of the blame for that could be placed squarely upon Cadance’s withers. She made a mental note to tell Raven; from here on out, all future problems would be blamed upon Cadance, as per new official policy.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Celestia trotted off to have lunch.
As Celestia entered the room, the first pony she saw was Kibitz. Celestia loved Kibitz. He was polishing his glasses and talking to Gosling. She felt her spirits lifted—Kibitz would be a good role model for Gosling, a seasoned advisor, and a pony that Gosling could trust. Raven was gnawing on a breadstick and there was no sign of Blueblood. For this, Celestia was grateful. Lunch would be awkward with Blueblood, because Celestia kept wondering if he was right.
“Back from Baltimare? I thought you’d be gone longer.” As Celestia spoke, she sat down. She sniffed, hungry, and looked around the table. Breadsticks and salad were already set out. Feeling ravenous, she emptied out most of the salad bowl and took a half a dozen steaming breadsticks. The salad looked and smelled delicious. Dandelion greens, spinach leaves, walnuts, slivered strawberries, alfalfa sprouts, and little bits of stinky, mouth watering crumbled feta cheese all tossed with a boysenberry vinaigrette.
“The labour dispute settled itself,” Kibitz replied, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “No sign of outside agitators.”
“Labour dispute?” Gosling asked.
Kibitz’s head turned and his mane, tied into a ponytail, bobbed against his neck. “The cities transportation workers went on strike. Cab drivers, chauffeurs, the heavy haulers that keep goods moving, basically everypony that pulls some sort of wagon behind them. I was sent to mediate.”
“That’s hard work. My mother tried that for a while in Manehattan. She’s a pegasus though, and she couldn’t compete with the earth ponies.” Gosling shook his head. “Those ponies deserve a lot more respect and better wages. They get treated like dirt and everypony tries to stiff the cabbies. It’s become a sport.”
“Yes it has,” Kibitz replied, nodding his head in enthusiastic agreement.
As Celestia tucked into her salad, she saw Kibitz turn and look at her. His eyes were intense and merry. She saw him take a deep breath, and then she heard him say, “It will be nice having a member of the royal family that is in touch with the working middle class.”
Chewing, Celestia found herself in agreement, but good manners kept her from making a verbal reply. She nodded her head while crunching up a walnut, savouring the taste of sweet and bitter.
“My Ma and I, we were never part of the middle class.” Gosling shook his head, his eyes narrowing, and his brows crinkled down as his ears pitched forwards. “Ma made sacrifices because she wanted me cultured and educated. So we stayed poor. Our apartment was a pigeon coop apartment on the top of a twenty floor walkup in a bad neighborhood—”
“Pigeon coop?” Raven asked.
“It’s an apartment that only pegasi can reach. No stairs. They’re illegal, the landlords, they build a few more levels on top of an already existing building to squeeze in a few more apartments. They’re dangerous fire traps—”
“That’s awful,” Raven muttered, “shameful.”
“—and nothing is done about them because a pony has to live somewheres.” Gosling’s Manehattanite accent thickened a bit as he continued. “The rent is seventeen hundred bits a month for about three hundred and fifty square feet of living space. The shower sits over the toilet and there is a drain on the floor. Ya sleep in a cubby, not a room. It’s an actual cabinet. It ain’t so bad, I guess. Ya fly in through a big window cause there’s no door. And ya live there cause it’s cheap.”
As Celestia listened, she realised that Gosling’s speech had been coached and corrected. As a communications specialist, his heavy accent would be a detriment. But in his current, state, it poured out. She found it endearing and she liked hearing him talk.
“They’re wooden shacks stacked on top of one another on top of a big brick walkup. They’re slums… the sorts of places that other ponies tease ya about living in and say you’re a schmuck for living there, what sort of schlimazel lives in those places, anyhow? I’ll tell you who lives there… some overworked single mother that works two, sometimes three jobs and her son, that’s who. And every time some poor pony begs for a raise, a great big fight happens and you get a bunch of putzes trying to remind the nebbishes that their lives don’t matter. Fuggedaboutit.”
Lifting a breadstick, Gosling’s lip curled back from his teeth as he bit into it. He chewed in silence, looking angry, and to Celestia’s eye, perhaps a bit bitter. This was a different side to him. She decided that she liked this side. She ate more salad, her eyes locked on Gosling, and hoped that she could hear more of his voice, his actual voice. For a moment, Celestia imagined a gaggle of foals running around the castle with thick, Manehattanite accents. Her foals. They would be adorable little muggers out to shake down the castle staff.
“This is the kind of insight we need if we ever hope to make changes,” Kibitz said to Gosling. “Mayors and politicians never make reports about these kinds of things. These are the things swept under the rug. We know that these problems exist, but it is difficult to gain insight into them.”
Gosling did not reply. He sat chewing his breadstick, looking sullen and angry. There was something almost predatory about his eating and Celestia watched him with interest. He nipped, then ripped the breadstick, the cords in his muscular, but slender neck standing out in sharp relief. A moment of realisation settled over Celestia. Gosling wasn’t thin, slender and delicate, at least not in the way that she thought him to be. He had probably grown up malnourished in the inner city, and was stunted. The thought made it difficult to swallow her salad. With this realisation, she now had a greater understanding of why he wanted to take care of his mother. How many meals had she missed to keep him fed? How many days had she laboured on an empty, growling stomach, starving so that her son could eat? She wondered how old Gosling had been when he understood and knew what his mother had been doing for him.
“Changes need to be made to the system, and we need a champion for this cause,” Raven said to Gosling in a soft, suggestive voice. “If one of the princesses were to do so, it would be seen as patronising… after all, what does a princess know of deprivation and suffering? What does a princess know of pigeon coop apartments? Any attempts made by the princesses to understand the needs of the lower class would be seen as insulting.”
Celestia’s ears stood up when Gosling swallowed and looked at Raven. She waited, her mouth full of salad, her breath in her throat, she waited with her ears straining, wondering what Gosling might say. She swallowed and felt the sharp edges of unchewed walnuts scraping her throat.
“What, yous wants me to be some kinda figurehead for reformation or sumptin?”
That voice! Celestia made a mental note to get Gosling more worked up and emotional more often. She had to hear that voice. What had the sergeants done to him in prep camp? Why was this marvellous accent drilled out of him? Why oh why did he have to go into communications and have that wondrous accent corrected? That voice made her feel moist in places that had been dry for too long. That voice brought rains back to her dry, dusty valley. That accent made her toast feel buttery. She shivered when she thought about Gosling whispering sweet nothings in her ear with that voice as he clutched her neck and she could almost feel him sliding over her back. Oh, he would be a little rough and clumsy, but that voice, that accent would more than make up for it. Not only was her toast buttered, but now she felt sticky with jam. She was ready to be put on a plate and served.
She coughed and for a moment, she thought she might have to go and excuse herself.
“A lot is expected of you,” Raven replied in a flat voice. “More is expected of you than you can possibly understand at this moment. You are being introduced to your new life by degrees. Your new life will be a life of servitude of the highest order. For now, we are merely determining what you have to offer. You will be evaluated and anything that is an asset will be appropriated, exploited, and used to benefit the Crown.”
“So, yous sayin’ that I’m back in the jungle,” Gosling replied, his eyebrow arching.
“Call it what you will, but this is a cutthroat place.” Raven gave Gosling a nod.
Eating another bite of salad, Celestia worried that it would become musky in here if this kept up. Her brain was doing its best to betray her, and so was her body. Her thoughts raced and she thought about three little foals, an earth pony, a pegasus, and unicorn, all with their father’s most delightful accent.
The thought put her mind back to an earlier time. She and Luna had once birthed a nation. After Discord’s fall, there had been too few. Far too few. With her and Luna’s ability to birth three foals, one of each tribe, they had spent decades in various states of pregnancy together, trying to restore what had been lost. Looking back, Celestia realised that she missed those days. Oh, maybe not the suffering, the starvation, and the death, or the lack of sanitation, or that the female orgasm was viewed as a thing of myth and legend. Those things could stay in the past. Celestia realised that she wanted to be fat with foal again. She wanted to be big, with a huge, ponderous belly that could be worshipped and adored. She wanted to be revered as a vessel for life. She wanted zebra witch doctors to paint fertility symbols on her stomach and slather her down with sacred mud so that she would be a fount for life. She wanted artisans to carve statues of her in a pregnant, pudgy, chubby, roly-poly majestic state, statues that other mares would rub in the hopes of increasing their own fertility. She missed her role not as the Goddess of the Sun, but as one of the Goddesses of the Renewal Cycle, a role she shared with Luna. She looked at Gosling and thought it might be time to revive a religion. She and Luna had once orchestrated the sun and the moon in a never ending cycle of oestrus and birth that had restored a nation.
So lost was Celestia in her own thoughts that she missed the conversation between Gosling, Raven, and Kibitz.
Heaving a sigh, Gosling realised that his work was done. He looked around the empty office. He was alone. He had been trusted to finish his work unsupervised. Raven was off with Princess Celestia, taking care of some Crown business together. Gosling had finished everything, and he had finished early.
He liked this work. He liked it a lot. Others might find it tedious, but as far as jobs went, this wasn’t bad at all and Gosling could see himself doing it for the rest of his life. It appealed to his meticulous nature. He liked perfection. Wings with perfect preening and not one feather out of place. Perfect telegrams with no errors. Perfection was something to strive for. You couldn’t be a perfect pony, but you could do perfect things. Perfection was possible in the mundane acts done everyday.
Truth be told though, he wasn’t going to be doing this for the rest of his life, and he knew that. He was no longer a pony just looking for a way to muddle through life and find a way to survive. Now, a whole lot more was expected of him. His tasks would be a lot more demanding… and far more difficult to do with his sense of perfection.
He had to go back to school, which meant perfect grades. He was going to be Celestia’s consort, and he had trouble even fathoming the level of perfection that demanded. Then there was the Luna issue… and Luna was an issue. He didn’t have strong feelings for Luna and he didn’t know how to proceed. He hardly knew her. She was just the lonely mare that had jumped out and scared him in the darkness.
The deck was stacked against him; any efforts on his part to be kind to her, to make her happy, to make her feel good, all of those things would be viewed with suspicion, and Luna wondering about his motivations—was he doing it to make Celestia happy? That created a problem for Gosling. He didn’t know how to reach Luna. But he wasn’t about to neglect her, his sense of perfection wouldn’t allow for that. If he was going to be a husband, he was going to strive to be a perfect husband. There was just the matter of somehow reaching Luna.
Gosling didn’t know what to do and it was time to go. His work day was done.
In the hall, he was surprised by his mother. She was sitting on a bench in the waiting area, humming to herself, and when she saw him, she burst from the bench and took off flying indoors. Something she had punished Gosling many times for doing. He braced himself—
WHAM!
His mother, though small, was solid and hard muscled. She had spent all of her life doing hard work. He staggered from the blow and felt his mother’s forelegs tighten around his neck. It was also at this point that he remembered that he had left his armor in Raven’s office.
“Gossy!”
Ugh, she kept calling him that. In public. Gosling rolled his eyes as she squeezed. There wasn’t anything he could do. His mother was soft and smelled like nice perfume, which made him feel sneezy. She had done something to her pelt. Had she been to the spa? Been pampered? He didn’t know.
“Come along, Gossy, we need to talk. In private.”
He felt his mother let go of his neck and he looked down as she was looking up at him. Her blue eyes were happy, but also worried… and perhaps a little scared. He could see the laugh lines in the corners of her eyes. His mother was pretty and beautiful… and oh how he loved her.
“Oy vey, Gosling, you stink like garlic… ew, what’s a mother to do?” Sleet said in a nasal voice as she shook her head in disapproval. “So shtanky… yuck!”
“Cream of garlic soup was served with lunch, Ma.” Gosling’s eyebrow lifted and he let out a chuckle. “Raven calls it a power lunch… those who eat it have power over others.”
“That is no mouth to kiss a princess with—”
“Ma, please… Princess Celestia ate two bowls of soup.”
“Two? Gosling, please tell me that you’ve behaved yourself in private and she’s not eating for two—”
“Ma!”
“—a mother could just die, Gosling! Of shame! Don’t shame me!”
“Ma!”
“I mean, I know she’s pretty and you have urges, but I told you how to look after those urges and you had better not—”
“Ma, slow down!” Gosling begged. “She’s a big pony, alright? She eats a lot. She feels self conscious about it sometimes.”
Sleet went silent and looked up at her son, staring into his eyes, searching for any sign of guilt, treachery, or deceit. After one uncomfortable minute, she nodded. She reached up with her hoof and tapped Gosling on the jaw. “You’re a good colt. You make your mother proud.”
“Sheesh, Ma, a mother could live…”
Sleet’s ears stood up straight and she began snickering. A wide smile spread over her muzzle as she took a step closer to her son. “Let’s get out of here and go someplace private. We need to talk, you and I. A mother knows when her son is troubled and he needs her.”
Sleet took off at a prancing trot and Gosling followed after her, both confused and mystified by his mother’s power over him. He loved her so much, even if he didn’t understand her. His brows furrowed when he had an unsettling thought—how much of his attraction to Celestia was because she was a bit like his mother? White, fierce, and fiesty. Gosling shoved the thought from his mind and tried not to think about it.
“Gossy, I know you love her, and I know that all kinds of things are going to happen between you and Celestia, but you need to remember who she is and be reverent towards that,” Sleet said as she walked. “Be respectful of her and her body. Don’t be lewd or obscene.”
There was no reply from Gosling as he followed after his mother. He would have to get his armor later. He might get a bit of a lecture, but that would be okay. He needed some time with his mom. He sighed. His mother was in full blown lecture mode.
“Princess Celestia is the deliverer of our kind… do you remember your lessons?” Sleet turned her head and looked over her shoulder at her son.
“Yeah Ma, I do.”
“She and Luna challenged Discord to a fight, saying, ‘Let my ponies go!’ and of course, Discord, being the meshuggener that he is, he cracks wise and says no. Such a bad mouth… his mother didn’t raise him better.” Sleet paused and then made a spitting sound. Ptoo! Ptoo! Ptoo! “He held an entire nation in slavery and made them go mad… he destroyed our tribes and the sisters had to save them. He ruined our way of life, our culture, he took from us something we can never get back. But the sisters, the sisters saved us and restored us. Never forget that, Gossy.”
“I know, Ma.”
“Don’t be smart,” Sleet said in a chiding voice.
“I’m not, Ma.”
“Good… I raised you better.” Sleet’s prancy step became a prideful strut and it was easy to see where Gosling got his own peacock prance from. “I raised my son to be good enough for the deliverer of our tribes. A mother always hopes for the best for her son...”
He was barely even in the chair when his mother whirled on him. The gatehouse apartment where his mother was staying filled with a cringe inducing silence. Gosling could feel his mother’s piercing stare burning through him. She had some terrible power. Sleet’s love was both terrible and beautiful.
“Gosling, we’re going to be having a very open discussion. I’m your mother, you can say anything to me and not be afraid, okay? Anything at all. And I know that you need to talk about this little development. Right?” Never taking her eyes off of Gosling, Sleet bounced into an overstuffed high backed chair, sat down, and settled in.
Taken aback by his mother’s abrupt words, Gosling tried to collect his thoughts. He had so much he wanted to say. But these were difficult things to talk about. His mother would be so open about them and Gosling could feel his ears burning in anticipation. He drew in a deep breath and tried to figure out where to begin. His mother’s blue eyes and how she stared at him made it difficult.
“Ma… I… I can’t figure out how I’m supposed to feel about Luna,” Gosling began, his gaze dropping down to the floor. The rug had a paisley print pattern. It still somehow looked new, even though it appeared to be quite old. It was a rug that hadn’t aged. “She and Celestia are one pony, really… I don’t know how to explain it, but they are. Ma, I’ve seen things. Learned things. And I don’t know how to deal with them just yet. I don’t think I can talk about some of those things with you, either.”
“I understand, Gossy.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Gosling looked up from the rug. He couldn’t read the expression upon his mother’s face, it was unknown to him. “Ma, I think that even if the law wasn’t there, I would still end up in the middle of them. That’s just how they are. I dunno, Ma… I’ve been thinking about this on and off today while I worked.”
Sleet nodded, but said nothing, acknowledging her son’s words.
“The way I see it, Ma, is that it would be like living in the day and refusing to admit that the night even exists. The sun and the moon kinda go together. You can’t have one without the other. I’m making a mess of this. It sounded better in my head when I was working earlier.”
“I can see some sense in it,” Sleet said to her son in a soft voice.
“Luna… she’s real lonely and real guilty. And she’s got her whole life wrapped up in serving her sister… and Celestia… she’s the same way. She’s real lonely and she’s really guilty too… and I has this fear… I has me this fear that if I’m with Celestia, I’ll be taking her away from Luna, and Luna will grow resentful and jealous, because let’s face it, she needs her sister. The two balance each other out.” Gosling’s brows furrowed.
“My son got wise,” Sleet said in a low whisper.
“You said to always look for answers in the natural order of things, so I have,” Gosling replied. “Now, where was I? Oh yeah… so I can’t take one sister away from the other. That’d be bad I think. They need each other to balance themselves out and if I married Celestia, that’d be wrecking the balance. The way I sees it…” Gosling’s words faded into silence.
“Yes, Gossy?” Sleet leaned forwards in her chair and waited.
“It’s gotta be like it is in the natural order.” Gosling’s ears drooped and his eyes dropped down to study the paisley print again. “I gotsta stand in the middle and let de sun and de moon move around me. It’s like some kinda funny bidness harmony ding. Dose sisters, dey squabble, and dey bicker, but dey love each other. Dey share everyding.” At this point, Gosling’s accent had thickened to the point where few ponies outside of Manehattan might understand him.
“Gosling, don’t talk like a hooligan or a cheap dime store hoodlum… I raised you better. I’ll fetch the soap.”
“Sorry, Ma.” Gosling took a deep breath and kept going. “If I do this right, I can bring the sisters together on common ground.”
“And that is?” Sleet asked.
“If they both love me, that gives them a place to meet in the middle.”
Sleet’s head made a slow, deliberate nodding motion, her ears bobbing as her head rocked back and forth. She sat in silence and waited for her son to continue, her expression one of patience.
“But Luna, she’s already got me stumped. She… well, she said that anything I do to make her happy would just be done to make her sister happy… and that’s not the same as making her happy for the sake of her being happy, and I don’t know how to fix this problem. Luna’s smart… she’s already got me played as a stooge.” Gosling let out a frustrated grunt. “Ma, let’s face it, I’m not so smart.”
“Son, Celestia is going to love you wholeheartedly and without reservation. She’s like the sun… she just shines, she can’t help herself or make it stop. But Luna… Son, you are going to have to go into the darkness to find her. And she is going to make you work for any affection you might have. The night is cold, but there is warmth to be had.”
“Think so, Ma?” Gosling asked.
“Light a fire,” Sleet suggested.
“Ma, these metaphors are gonna get me killed—”
Sleet’s body inflated, her barrel puffing out, and her feathers all fluffed. “Don’t get mouthy!”
“Sorry, Ma.” Gosling’s ears drooped down. “I wasn’t being mouthy.”
“You’re going to have to go deep into Luna’s darkness and figure out a way to show her some warmth and light. You’re going to have to prove to her that you are interested in her happiness.” Sleet paused for a moment, reached up, and rubbed the side of her jaw with her left front hoof.
While his mother was silent and thinking, Gosling sprang an important question upon her. “Ma, do you approve of what I’m doing? I’m not going to shame you or anything, am I? I couldn’t live with that. A son could just die...”
Snapped from her thoughts, Sleet almost tumbled forwards out of her chair. She braced both forelegs against the front edge of the cushion and sat straight up, even her ears pointed straight towards the ceiling. Her eyes narrowed into blue slits and she stared at her son.
“Gosling, of course I approve. Now, if it was any two other mares, I’d say you were inviting disaster and yes, I would be trying to talk you out of it. But this is different. This isn’t just marriage, this is service. You’re representing the First Tribes and our values. I can’t even imagine a higher honour for our kind.”
“Thanks Ma.” Gosling watched as his mother relaxed a little. “So Ma… any advice?”
“Yes, actually,” Sleet replied.
“Well?” Gosling waited.
“Gosling… darling… my little sweet potato knish, there is one thing that you must be very mindful of…”
“And that is, Ma?”
“Never go from one mare to another with the scent of the first still upon you—”
Gosling recoiled in horror at his mother’s words. “MA!”
“Oy vey, Gosling”—Sleet shook her head—“make sure you take a shower first so that—”
“MA! PLEASE! MA!” Gosling shook his head and gave his mother a pleading look.
“ —those musks don’t intermingle—”
“OY VEY, MA, HAVE MERCY! WHATSAMATTA WITCHU?”
“—it would be like two sisters touching each other in a most inappropriate way… you can’t let certain bodily fluids intermingle, you just can’t! You can’t let the sisters touch each other through you, it’s unclean—”
“Ma, I swear by the alicorns, I am going to tie a millstone around my neck and throw myself into the ocean!”
Sleet, looking wounded, stared at her son. “You wanted my advice and I gave it.” She sniffed, blinked, and made a dismissive wave with her hoof. “It was advice that you needed to hear. We have laws, culture… we have ways and means for dealing with herd marriage, and you’ve never learned them. We can’t be unclean, Gosling, you know the laws and the traditions.”
Shuddering, Gosling tried to recover from the words he had just heard come out of his mother’s mouth. He swallowed. His mother looked hurt, wounded, and he knew what he had to do. “Okay, Ma… I’m listening… teach me of the old ways… tell me what I need to know…”
Gosling had heard things. He had heard things coming out his mother’s mouth that he never wanted to hear. Some things a colt never wanted to hear his mother say. He sat in stunned silence and as he sat in his chair, trying to recover, his stomach grumbled. He looked over at the clock and saw that it was nearing six o'clock. His stomach let out a pleading gurgle and Gosling thought about dinner.
“Ma, we’re going out for dinner—”
“Gossy, this is Canterlot, dinner is expensive.” Sleet shook her head. “We can eat here and you can save your money.”
“Ma, don’t step on my last nerve,” Gosling said to his mother, raising his voice just enough to let her know that he was serious. “I know a nice little place where a lot of the soldiers eat and I have a tab there that gets deducted from my pay. It’ll be fine, Ma.”
“Gossy…”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to be rude, but I’ve always wondered…”
“What Ma?”
“Gossy, darling, how much do you make in a month? I mean, you were paying the rent and sending me money and I’ve been so curious, but I was afraid to ask, because you know how it can be, you speak of money and the next thing you know a big fight happens—”
“Ma, I make good money,” Gosling said in a soft voice. “The signal corps has the highest pay grade but also the toughest application requirements. We also gots the brain drain to deal with. No dumb little horsies in the signal corps.”
Sleet nodded. “But Gossy, how were you paying for everything?”
“Well, Ma, I’m on active duty and I do an actual job. I get paid for both.” Gosling raised his eyebrow and waited. He had also just been promoted to work with Raven, but he didn’t know about any sort of pay increase just yet.
“Yes, but how much?” Sleet asked, turning her gaze away and looking over in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Gosling, but I feel guilty… you’ve been sending me a lot of money… so much money… I’m a little a shocked by how much you’ve sent, and I worry all the time that you don’t have any for yourself.”
Gosling blinked. He could see the guilt and the pain on his mother’s face. His heart sank. He wanted his mother to be happy and live a better life. She looked hurt, as though her pride had been pricked. He wasn’t sure what to say.
“Gosling, I worked two, sometimes three jobs to pay the rent and the bills… and you’re sending enough money to cover everything. I just… I just… Gosling, I just don’t want you going without for my sake. The guilt has been eating me alive. That’s part of the reason I took on a part time job. It wasn’t just because I was bored. I just—”
“Ma…” Gosling leaned forwards in his chair and stared into his mother’s blue eyes when she turned to look at him. She was about to cry. His heart felt heavy in his barrel. “Well, I get active duty pay, each of the courses I take ups my pay, and I’ve taken many, right now I’m taking the higher levels of communications and command courses. I have my job as a telegraph operator, well, I did, and I managed a com-hub before I got recruited by Raven. Kinda proud about that, I am.”
“Gosling, stop beating around the bush… I need to know. You were sending me twenty two hundred bits a month. With my own part time job, I’ve been able to squirrel away a little savings for a rainy day, if it’s needed.”
“I kept a little for myself,” Gosling said.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Sleet asked.
“Nope.” Gosling felt a twinge of guilt.
“So dinner…” Sleet sucked in a deep breath and waggled her ears as her wings fluffed out against her sides. “Is this place nice? What kinda food do they have?”
“Oh, they have a little bit of everything,” Gosling replied, “and the best matzah ball soup in Canterlot. They use lots of olive oil and they do something to the broth to make it silky.”
“You don’t say.” Sleet blinked and then began nodding her head.
“Ma, everypony eats it. They make it by the gallon. Food is a little different here in Canterlot than where we come from. Ponies here care more about food tasting good and less about where or who it comes from. It’s like finding a dozen different ‘hoods in one place.”
“Oh, well, that does sound like it might be nice,” Sleet said as she began nodding her head. “Okay, let’s go out. Do they have pizza?”
“Yeah, Ma, they do. They make a nice pie.” Gosling gave his mother a grin. “Let’s go, Ma, and I’ll show ya around a bit.”
Canterlot had its own style, like any other Equestrian city, but beneath the minarets and spires, below the tiled roofs, hidden away in many nooks and crannies, Canterlot was a sampling of just about everything good in Equestria. Food, drinks, art, clothing, culture, music, theatre, there was a little bit of everything to be found in Canterlot.
Hidden behind arched doorways were the many hidden treasures of the city. Manehattan style pizza. The fabulous salad culture of Applewood, home of the movie stars. The martinis of Las Pegasus. The bean dishes of Baltimare. The poutine of Vanhoover. Everything could be found in Canterlot, as ponies from all over Equestria came to work here.
The guard were a voracious and vocal bunch. Demands were answered.
Sleet and Gosling walked side by side on the sidewalks as wagons and carriages rumbled past on the cobblestones. The city was already getting chilly as day transitioned into night. Autumn was coming for the rest of Equestria, but was already here in Canterlot, at least it felt that way when the velvet shroud of night fell over the city.
One thing could be said about the ponies of Canterlot; they were, for the most part, polite when out on the streets. The ponies of Manehattan—not so much. When violations of space happened, and they did happen, it was common to hear, “Oh, pardon me,” or “My apologies,” or something to that effect, rather than the brusque, “Hey, yo, I’m walkin’ ‘ere!” that could heard in Manehattan.
For Gosling, it had become normal, but for Sleet, she was mystified by the laid back attitudes of the ponies around her. Gosling found the whole thing amusing, because his mother acted like a tourist. And in Manehattan, tourists were jerks. Manehattanites hated tourists. Yet here she was, walking around, stopping, staring at stuff, blocking the sidewalk, and doing the tourist thing.
Der Unter Garten was a peculiar place. It had once been a mushroom farm. It was a vast natural cavern that existed under a series of shops up above. It had natural geothermal steam vents to heat the place and the steam was now used for cooking. It was one of those almost secret places that only the locals knew about and the guard loved to frequent, because let’s face it, when off duty, nopony wanted to deal with tourists. Some things never changed no matter where you lived.
Gosling frequented this place often enough, as did every other member of the guard. This place was like a second home. Which made his greeting into this place all the more upsetting when it happened.
“Oh look, the princess’ pet pegasus…” Gosling could hear snickering accompanying the words. He could hear his mother gritting her teeth beside him. Almost right away, he began to assess the situation, wondering if it was worth staying. It might be wise to leave.
“I hear she keeps him in a little basket by her bed.”
Ears perking, Gosling suffered an involuntary pawing of his hoof over the floor. There was a low screech as his hoof scraped over stone. Several heads turned. Ears stood up. Feathers bristled. Horns ignited.
There was good natured ribbing and then there was, well, whatever this was. Gosling could feel the tension in the air. He could feel the eyes on him and his mother looked very, very unhappy. Gosling, not one who enjoyed confrontation, decided it was time to go. He turned and as he did so, he gave his mother a nudge. Her body was rigid.
“That’s right… get outta here… maybe the princess will put down a nice bowl of food for ya.”
“That’s enough, you bucketheads!” a stern voice snapped. A large, burly earth pony kicked his stool away as he stood up. “You chuckleheads will respect all members of the E-U-P or I will be forced to mop the floor with you!”
“Sheesh, calm down Sergeant Shamrock—”
“I DID NOT ASK FOR YOUR INPUT, PRIVATE SCUM STAIN!” the sergeant shouted in frog voiced fury. “JUST AS I AM CERTAIN YOUR MOTHER DIDN’T ASK FOR YOU TO BE BORN, YOU LIMP NOODLED DISAPPOINTMENT OF MARES AND STALLIONS EVERYWHERE! THE BEST PART OF YOU RAN DOWN YOUR MAMA’S LEG AND CIRCLED THE SHOWER DRAIN... TWICE!”
Oh crap, it was time to go! Gosling took a step towards the door and—
“Private Gosling, you will not move!” the sergeant commanded. “You are not to leave the castle unattended, what were you thinking, you brain drained pile of beep beep boops!”
Cringing, his status as a telegraph operator called into play, Gosling froze. At least the sergeant was no longer frog voiced. He hoped that he was not about to be ripped a new one in front of his mother, and perhaps of more importance, he hoped that his mother would not rip the sergeant a new one.
“Madam, if you will pardon me for being so harsh, but correction is necessary with these bucketheads, because they are all brain dead puddles of harpy puke,” the sergeant said to Sleet. “And I would like to thank you for birthing at least one somewhat competent pegasus for this pony’s army!”
Turning back around, Sleet stared at the bellicose earth pony with wide, confused eyes. “Um, thank you, I think?”
The sergeant raised his hoof in the customary ground pounder salute, as he did not have wings. He turned for a moment to glare at his fellow guards before they had a chance to start snickering again. “The barracks are going to be so alicorn damned spotless that Princess Celestia herself will be proud to eat off the alicorn damned floor, you chancre infested ballsacks!”
Sergeant Shamrock crossed the room in a stomping march. “Private Gosling, perhaps you haven’t gotten the memo, but you are no longer allowed to leave the palace without escort! I don’t know who let you slip through the gate, but when I find them, they are going to regret that their mama spread their legs and invited disaster to come inside!”
Sleet’s face turned a bright pink and she stood there, stupefied.
As for Gosling himself, he went rigid and stood at attention, as that was what one did when a sergeant addressed them. He stared straight ahead and did not even glance at the enormous green earth pony stallion that now towered over him and his mother.
“Ma’am, do you know how few competent ponies I have the privilege to work with?” Sergeant Shamrock asked Sleet in a low, but gritty sounding voice. “I met Private Gosling in prep camp. I liked Gosling. I told him he could come over to my house and bang my sister. I liked him a lot. But then the brass came and took him away so he could join the beep beep boop brigade because Private Gosling has the incurable condition of having a brain and we can’t have those in the common rank and file. The buckets must remain empty.”
“Oooh…” Sleet gasped as she shuffled on her hooves.
“Private Gosling, I am not certain what to do with the two of you,” Sergeant Shamrock said as he loomed large over the two ponies. “I suppose I am going to have to escort you back to the castle myself. It will give me a chance to tear into the skid mark on a princess’ ass responsible for this little slip up.”
“Sir, thank you, Sergeant, Sir.” Gosling remained statuesque.
“Private Gosling, you have a very pretty mother. You are a lucky bastard.”
Gulping, Gosling dared to move his eyes and he looked up at Sergeant Shamrock. “Sir, touch so much as one feather on my mother or say even one thing out of place to her, and I will unscrew your head and let those bucketheads you abuse every day take turns with your neckhole, Sir.”
“And this is why I like Private Gosling,” Sergeant Shamrock said as Sleet recoiled from what her son had said. A big grin split the sergeant's face. “At ease, Private Gosling, as I respect your mother.” The big earth pony’s head turned and glared at the guards gathered around the long table where he had been sitting. “If only every mother had birthed such fine colts.”
Gosling glanced over at the table and saw many angry scowls. He didn’t like what he was seeing. He felt his muscles go tense and he very much wanted to be out of this place.
“Madam, if you will do me the honour and privilege of walking with me, I shall now escort you back to the castle,” Sergeant Shamrock said to sleet. “I assure you, I will be on my best behaviour.”
Head turning, Gosling looked up at the big earth pony. The sergeant was smiling a good natured smile. Gosling wasn’t certain what to make of it. He worried that he might just have to unscrew the sergeant’s head on general principle. But that would happen later, away from this angry looking lot.
“Private Gosling, if you will lead the way,” Sergeant Shamrock barked.
Turning to face the door, Gosling did as he was commanded.
The room was tiny and grey with featureless walls. Overhead, a bare bulb burned inside of a protective metal cage. In the middle of the room was a small steel table, designed for easy cleaning, with hard, unyielding edges. As Blueblood rubbed his temple, he reminded himself that the hard, unyielding edges would not be needed, but was his patience ever being tried to its limits.
In a chair across from him, Skyfire Flash sat, looking both angry and terrified. Blueblood had already made up his mind that he hated her, but that didn’t stop him from doing his job and doing it well. His own personal feelings had no place in this. Raven couldn’t be trusted with this job and truth be told, Blueblood didn’t trust anypony other than himself to handle this.
“You can’t keep me here,” Skyfire said in a screechy, high pitched nasal whine.
The corner of Blueblood’s eye twitched. Skyfire was the sort of filly that you put something in her mouth to keep her from speaking. It didn’t matter what it was, just so long as it was something. She struck Blueblood as the sort of filly that would squirt out a whole passel of foals before she was even twenty, then cry and play the role of victim.
“Look, Skyfire, I am trying to help you,” Blueblood said again in a soft, subdued voice. “I don’t think you understand the severity of what you have done—”
“I haven’t done anything,” Skyfire retorted as she folded her forelegs over her barrel.
Fine then, the hard way, Blueblood thought to himself. “Miss Flash,” Blueblood began, “let me make a few things clear, because you haven’t been informed. You are in a world of trouble. Your parents are going to be fined a lot of money. And you are going to court—”
“You’re just trying to silence me after what Gosling did,” Skyfire said, butting in.
“Look here, you stupid, stupid girl, you have broken the law… you have committed slander! And when you go to court, they are going to place compulsion spells upon you and you are going to tell the truth… all of it! And your parents are going to suffer the full brunt of your punishment because you are underage!”
Skyfire shrank in her chair and stared at Blueblood with incredulous disbelief. “You can’t do that.” The filly’s voice was a low, worried nasal whisper. “I have rights. You can’t do stuff like that. I don’t care if you are a lawyer, that’s against the law. You’re just trying to scare me.”
“We most certainly can and will, you idiotic little trollop. You are going to stand up in court and admit what sort of horrid little attention whore you are and the words will pour out of your mouth about how you made all of this up.” Blueblood paused and his brows furrowed. “You can make this easier on yourself… you can make a public confession and admit to what you have done outside of court, and your parents will be shown some small amount of mercy. ‘Tis a pity they will be stuck with you, that’s punishment enough in and of its own.”
The filly said nothing, but she whimpered. Blueblood, in an odd moment, was moved to pity. She was repulsive and disgusted him, but he felt pity. Studying her, he tried to see whatever Gosling saw in her, and he found nothing. Blueblood could only see her future when he looked at her, and her future involved smelling like cheap, plebian beer and having the musty, mushroom soup smell of semen lingering about her as she stood and waited for the next customer that she could tell her sob story to as she was being railed. A smart customer might shut her up though with something in her mouth.
“How much did they pay you?” Blueblood asked.
“Nothing,” Skyfire replied.
Rubbing his temple once more, Blueblood sighed in frustration. “You’ll never be allowed to keep that money. It was paid to you so that you would commit slander. It is money involved in a crime. The money will be taken from you in court and you will be fined for accepting it. As it stands right now, you and your parents stand to lose everything because of what you have done. You’re the filly that slandered Princess Celestia and Princess Luna’s future consort. Your parents will probably never be able to find work again because of you. Everypony is going to see you and recognise you as the lying, stupid, little filly that you are and nopony will ever respect you again. I don’t think you realise just how badly you have messed up your life, and I am honestly trying to spare you some pain as you make the long slide down to the bottom.”
A tear rolled down Skyfire’s cheek and Blueblood’s pity grew. He saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes—a moment of realisation—and he knew that it was starting to sink in for her.
“Even worse, you accepted a bribe to commit slander. That in and of itself is a criminal offense. How much you accepted will determine the severity of the crime—”
“He told me that nothing bad would happen!” Skyfire blurted out. “He promised me that this would be easy money and that the worst thing that could happen would be that I might get a bad newspaper article written about me!”
“And you were stupid to believe him!” Blueblood snapped. “Why would you do something so monumentally stupid, you daft little twit?”
Skyfire began to sniffle and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m pregnant—”
“I don’t believe you, you lying, fork tongued, little whore,” Blueblood retorted. He squinted at the filly through one narrowed eye, unable to believe anything that she said. For all he knew, she might have been coached to say that.
“Really, I am… I’m just not showing very much… he promised me a whole bunch of money if I said it was Gosling’s after it was born. He said that he would pay me a lot of money for an exclusive and that the royal family would pay me a whole bunch of hush money just to keep everything quiet, even if it wasn’t Gosling’s, and then I’d be rich, famous, and important.”
“Conspiracy to defraud…” Blueblood shook his head. “I need his name… give me a name and I can help you. I can’t protect you from the full brunt of the consequences you’ve brought upon yourself, but I can soften the blow a little bit. Start telling me numbers. Give me details.”
“What’s in it for me?” Skyfire asked.
With a snarl, Blueblood stood up from his seat. He glared at the pegasus filly with a hard, furious stare, and then turned to leave. When he was at the door, he heard her say, “Wait, don’t go… I’ll tell you, I just want something in return, that’s all. I’m entitled to that! I deserve something for cooperating!”
Saying nothing in reply, Blueblood left and slammed the door behind him. Perhaps Skyfire needed a little more time left alone so she could stew. He would have to return later. Any feeling of pity that he had for her died as he made his way down the hallway. Any consequences that she faced, she deserved.
Exhausted, Gosling looked around the tiny room that was his quarters. It wasn’t quite a basket by the bed. He understood now why he could no longer sleep in the barracks or share in common quarters. Too many long days. Far too many long days. The stress was getting to him. There was still a faint hint of sunshine outside, but the sun was setting.
Princess Celestia was still busy, trapped in aggressive negotiations. This was a sign of things to come, no doubt. Gosling was now alone in her quarters, by himself, and pondering going to bed. His armor was sitting on a table beside the bed in the room that was now his. He was frustrated, angry, and alone. Dinner had not been an enjoyable meal for him or his mother, as they had both been too upset.
Was this his future? Going to bed alone while Celestia continued with aggressive negotiations? Gosling considered the caged bird—as the royal consort, he was a target for foalnapping, the paparazzi, dissidents, crackpots, and those who wished to hurt the Crown. A great big bullseye had been painted on his back. He was now Celestia and Luna’s weakness.
Sergeant Shamrock had sat him down and explained everything because somepony had to. Gosling was certain that at some point, he would have heard it from somepony. He suspected that nopony had considered him leaving or stepping out. His quarters were here, in Celestia’s own private chambers, with two guards at the door—two guards that Gosling wasn’t certain that he could trust anymore.
Scowling, Gosling kicked the side of his bed with his hoof. He yawned against his will. He wanted to be angsty and angry, but he just didn’t have the energy. He wanted to talk to somepony about how unfair all of this was, but deep down, he knew that this was his choice. He wasn’t about to abandon what he was certain was the love of his life just because the going got difficult.
He sat down upon his bed and as he did so, he tried to imagine how hard it might be to learn with guards standing around him in school. It would be impossible to make friends. Anypony that came too close would be sent away, turned back by the guards.
As Gosling laid down, he bumped up against a small wooden scroll tube that he hadn’t noticed on his bed. Curious, he sat back up and pulled it open with his teeth. He peered inside for a moment, upended it, and shook everything out as he held it, gripping it in his left fetlock.
Inside was a note and two photographs that had both curled somewhat from being in the scroll tube. He lifted the note and unrolled it, using his dextrous primaries. He saw a few words in a fine, flowing script. “Luna has told me what you like on a mare. Miss me?”
Curious and wondering what Luna had to do with this, Gosling set down the note and lifted up the photographs. He held them up and straightened them out. What he saw made him start sweating. The first photo was a close up of Celestia’s neck in stunning detail, starting from the withers and showing her face in profile. Dat neck! Does she have da neck? She do! He felt a throb in his wings as his body grew hot. The second photo took him a moment to recognise—it was Celestia’s navel, her belly button… and… he squinted. No! He held the photograph up to his nose and strained to see along the bottom edge. The photo had been done in such a way that there was just enough there to almost see them… a tease, a partial view. Reaching up with his foreleg, Gosling wiped the sweat from his brow. The photos were perfumed… her perfume. Holding the photo up to his nose, he could smell it. He inhaled, drawing in as much sweet, perfumed air as he could, and he felt himself go light headed.
He needed a shower. Yes, he definitely needed a shower. A shower and a wank.
When Gosling awoke, dawn was hours away. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. He was somehow aware of the fact that the sun was still hanging out in other parts of the world. He rolled over and touched the clock beside his bed. It glowed for a moment with a faint green light. It was just a little after three o’clock in the morning. He had gone to bed before nine. It was far too early to get up, but he felt awake. Like, very awake, with no hope of ever going back to sleep. He yawned, doing so quietly, and slipped out of bed. He made as little sound as possible.
He slunk around, stealthy, prowling in the dark and discovered Celestia asleep in her bed. He couldn’t recall his night vision ever being this good. Must be the carrots, or maybe just eating better in general. He hardly ever missed a meal anymore, and that had to be paying off. He stood watching Celestia sleep, he could see the rise and fall of her barrel. She was tangled up in her twisted sheet and blankets. Her legs kicked as she slept.
Part of him wanted to crawl into bed with her, even if he couldn’t sleep. He just wanted to be close to her. To feel her. To be pressed against her. To have her radiant warmth against his body. She was like standing out in the sun on a warm spring day. She was heat and light that soaked into the bones.
Standing there in the dark, watching Celestia sleep, Gosling had poetic thoughts. He loved her. There was no doubting that. It was more than lust or infatuation, he loved her. It was the only reasonable conclusion that he could reach. He was going to become the caged bird just so he could be with her.
But there was another. Blinking, Gosling wondered what Luna might be up to. Perhaps if he wandered the halls, she would jump out and scare him again. Princess Luna was elusive, mysterious, and Gosling had to find some way of connecting with her. Moving with near total silence, Gosling departed Celestia’s chambers, hoping to have the crap scared out of him.
It was an odd feeling no longer trusting his fellow guards. He had once called them all ‘brother,’ the guard was a brotherhood, and a sisterhood as well, but now, he was suspicious of every guard he met. Unsettled, Gosling didn’t like it. The darkened hallways didn’t seem as dark and he found that he could see just fine in the dim light available.
He prowled all over the castle, moving from place to place, with no luck. There was no sign of Luna anywhere to be found. Perhaps she was avoiding him. Maybe she had some duties to attend to. He didn’t know. As he roamed the darkened hallways, he thought about Luna. He wasn’t attracted to her. Oh, she was pretty enough, beautiful even, but she wasn’t his type. Her speech was confusing, a mix of old and new that was ever-changing.
Ahead, Gosling heard the sound of armor clattering, and by the sound of it, a whole lot of armor clattering. He picked up the pace, first to a trot, and then his sharp ears heard the cries of pain. He took off at a gallop to see what was going on.
In the central entrance, he came upon a sight that made him freeze. A patrol was coming in, all of them battered and bloody. Gosling knew a little about the night patrols and what they did for Equestria’s safety. He had heard stories. Every recruit heard stories. Some joined by choice, others joined to pay off debts. The night patrol was preferable to prison, for some. Some found honour and redemption.
“Summon doctors at once.”
Lifting his head, he saw Luna. She was wearing armor, battered armor that was damaged. She was bloodied and limping. Alarmed, Gosling went to her side, sidestepping to stay out of the way as more soldiers filed into the entryway.
“Luna?” Gosling came to a halt and heard the sound of dripping water somewhere. No, not dripping water. He could see it. A puddle was forming beneath the spot where Luna was standing. He could see that she was straining to even keep upright. Her feathers were flecked with blood and she had gashes beneath torn gaps in her armor.
He went to her side, standing close, and said, “Lean on me.”
“Away with you Gosling, now is not the time,” Luna said in a commanding voice.
Snorting, Gosling refused. He saw several pegasi turning to look at him. He also saw the strange pegasi of the night, the strange half dragon pegasi with leathery bat wings. All around him, he could hear the sounds of misery and pain. Gosling felt weak, small, and helpless. He wasn’t this sort of soldier and he knew he wouldn’t last long in a real fight. There was a reason he was in the ‘chair force.’
“Commander Luna, give me the privilege of bearing your weight,” Gosling said in a low, pleading whisper. “I might not be a warrior, but let me do something, please?”
Luna’s sudden weight against him was almost crushing. She was like her sister, far heavier than she appeared. He felt the hard edges of her armor pressing into his flesh, and he could feel her wing joint coming to rest against his back. He braced his legs and held her up. She weighed a ton. Gosling suspected that if one of the princesses was to ever roll over on top of him in bed, he would become a puddle of Gosling jam or that his insides might go squirting out of his balloon knot. His knees wobbled as he struggled to hold her up.
He felt her shift and he followed, walking with her as she leaned against him. She walked with a three legged gait, no longer putting her right rear hoof upon the ground now that Gosling was holding up her right side.
Unicorn guards were bringing in more ponies on stretchers. Gosling could tell by looking at them that some of them were dead. Some were missing limbs. Others looked chewed. His ears twitched with every cry he heard.
“What happened?” Gosling asked in a throaty whisper.
“We made a foray into Froggy Bottom Bogg,” Luna replied, “it has become a terrible place since Mount Maud erupted. The magic there now rivals the Everfree for danger.”
With a sickening feeling, Gosling realised that he felt something hot and wet running down his sides, down his legs, and soaking his wing. He knew that it was Luna’s blood. He moved with her, his efforts clumsy, but valliant.
“So many lost,” Luna said in a strangled whisper. “So many lost…” She shook her head and her eyes glimmered with tears. “The price of safety is so high. The night patrols bear the brunt of the worst that the wilds have to offer.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Gosling turned away from a headless corpse. He felt his gorge rising. He felt Luna tremble beside him and he knew that she was struggling to even keep standing. It was pride and pride alone that kept her on her three hooves.
“Night Lady, your blood loss is considerable,” a draconic pegasus said in a low, croaking voice. “You are not invulnerable. Please, seek aid. Allow us to do our jobs here.”
“No,” Luna said in a voice of flat refusal. “Mine brethren have been wounded and killed. I must see to them.”
“Night Lady, please, reconsider,” the night guard said.
When Luna’s weight shifted without warning, Gosling almost toppled over. How much did a princess weigh, anyhow? He grunted as he strained to hold her up. Hard, jagged edges of torn metal pressed into his skin and Luna’s wing joint felt as though it was cutting into his spine. He heard Luna let out a cry. He felt a sharp, jagged corner of metal piercing his side, just below his withers, and he winced. He let out a hiss of pain and ignored the sharp metal digging into his shoulder.
“Night Lady, there are parts of you hanging out that should not be,” the guard said in a voice devoid of any emotion. “Do not make me relieve you of command.”
“Oh very well,” Luna snapped.
“You.” Gosling froze when he heard the voice. His body was threatening to betray him, his weakness threatened to shame him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep holding up Luna. He tried to snap to attention and failed. He stared up at his strange lunar cousin, mystified by his very existence. The metal was digging in deeper, but he dared not complain. Not after what he had witnessed. These ponies had been bloodied by something far worse than a pokey bit of metal.
“You there, brave one… you are to remain with the Night Lady and not leave her side. Stay with her while she is being patched up.” The bigger draconic pegasi glared down at Gosling, dwarfing him. In a low voice, the guard said, “She is afraid of needles. She may become panicked.”
“We are not!” Luna bellowed in protest as she struggled to remain standing. “Lies! Slanderous accusations! Falsehoods!”
“Somepony will be along to relieve you at dawn, so that you may continue with your expected duties of the day without trouble,” the guard said, ignoring Luna.
Gosling found himself unable to salute, so he nodded.
The draconic pegasus pointed with his wing at Gosling. “By bleeding with us, you become one of us. I can smell your blood, brave one. Please, look after our Night Lady. She is very dear to us.” The big pegasus turned his head and barked, “Take the Night Lady to the infirmary at once! She needs to be carried!”
“We do not!” Luna protested. “We art fine!”
As Luna continued to protest, Gosling felt himself lifted in the warm tingle of magic...
Seven stitches and several hours later, Gosling could feel the sun rising, even though he was far from any window. Luna’s mangled armor had sliced him wide open, cutting his shoulder almost to the bone. Luna never once said what had done so much damage, she never revealed what the night patrol had battled.
Whatever it was, Luna’s armor had been so damaged that it had to be cut away from her, and parts of her armor appeared to be melted, as if by acid. Her wounds were grievous. Gosling stayed with her as she was being sewn up and treated.
But now, with the coming dawn, he had a job to do. He had to face the day. He was covered with dried blood, both his own and Luna’s. The Princess of the Night was yawning and she looked sleepy as the dawn creeped into their part of the world.
Gosling’s relief had already shown up, and now, it was time to go.
As he headed for the door, he heard Luna’s voice and it stopped him in his tracks. “Private Gosling…”
He stood and waited, his ears quivering. “Thank you, Private Gosling. You helped me without humiliating me. For that, I am grateful. I dost apologise for your shoulder. Had I known...”
Turning his head, Gosling looked over his shoulder. “Think nothing of it. Just a flesh wound, really, nothing compared to what you and the others had to go through. It was my pleasure to have served you, Princess Luna.”
“Gosling…”
Ears erect, he waited, wondering what Luna had to say.
“You are free to go.”
Sighing, Gosling’s ears drooped. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. He felt disappointed and let down. Not knowing what else to say or do, he left.
Now showered and ready for work, Gosling entered into Raven’s office, knowing he was late, but he had a good excuse. He didn’t expect to be in trouble. Raven’s office was a whirlwind of activity. He wore no armor, knowing that he didn’t need it. He had come in ready to deal with the night dispatches, ready to work at the telegraph bench. Something told him that would not be happening, at least not right away.
The office was filled with assistants and members of the signal corps. The room was filled with a dull roar of sound as everypony present spoke to one another in excited, stressful voices. Gosling stood in the door, not certain of what to do, or what was going on.
“Private Gosling,” a unicorn mare said as she turned to face him so she could address him. “My name is Daisy Doily and I am one of Raven’s assistants. She is busy at the moment. There is going to be a major press release at eight o’clock.”
“Oh?” Gosling’s eyebrow raised in curiousity.
Daisy Doily nodded and her bobbed mane bounced around in a manner most fetching. “Skyfire Flash is going to make a full confession to the press and you are expected to be there, in armor, as Private Gosling.”
“She’s here and nopony told me?” Gosling shook his head and fought the rising urge to become angry. He took a deep breath—anger had no place here. Daisy Doily had done nothing wrong. It was important to keep his cool. He tried to remember what he had learned in his command courses. His brain failed him, he could remember nothing that would apply to this situation, but his anger fizzled out because of his moment of distraction.
“The confession is only the beginning. Nobilem Atrium Equorum will be called together for the first time in almost two hundred years—”
“What… wait, please, forgive me, but slow down… what was that you just said?” Gosling gave Daisy Doily an apologetic smile and hoped that he would be forgiven for being rude.
“The Royal Court of Equestria… the high court of the land.” Daisy Doily looked up at Gosling. “It means it is a case tried by royalty. At least one alicorn will be sitting as one of the judges. Don’t know who yet.”
Stunned, woozy from pain and painkillers, Gosling staggered backwards as though he had been struck. He felt his stomach begin tying itself into knots. Bitter bile seared the back of Gosling’s tongue. He smacked his lips as the taste of acid filled his mouth. In a gritty whisper, he asked, “Is that really necessary?”
“She has committed a crime against the Royal Family, has committed various crimes of conspiracy, and charges of treason are being considered.” Daisy Doily blinked. “Any acts perpetrated against the Crown have to be treated seriously. There are no slaps on the muzzle.”
Shaking his head, Gosling found he had no words to say.
“She accepted a considerable sum of money with the intent of defrauding the Royal Family. She’s pregnant, and she planned to tell the press that the foal is yours—”
“What?” Gosling felt his blood run cold. The icy chill that started at his dock and crept up his spine was so cold that it made his whole body shudder with a violent tremble. He felt his pelt along his spine prickle and quiver, causing his hair to stand up.
“—with the intent to gain hush money from the Royal Family to avoid scandal.”
The room began spinning around Gosling and he heard a rushing sound in his ears, it was like being in hurricane force winds. He felt pressure behind his eyes and his mouth went dry, then flooded with saliva, and then went dry again. He felt his stomach bucking around inside of him like a bronco beset with bees.
A cold sweat dribbled down Gosling’s sides and for a second, he was certain that he was going to throw up all over Daisy Doily. He bolted from the room, taking off at a run, and took off for the nearest bathroom, not knowing if he would make it.
Cursing his armor, Gosling wanted to take it off. For some reason, it didn’t feel right. It pinched into his body and was uncomfortable. His helmet felt too small. He couldn’t stop sweating and there was a bad taste in his mouth that he couldn’t get rid of, no matter how much he brushed his teeth or swished with mouthwash.
This was going to be a miserable day. He had been having a lot of miserable days as of late. Sullen, out of sorts, he rounded the corner and headed for the press hall. He hated that room. He hated the press. Well, not all of the press. He liked Seville.
Then, he saw her. She loomed large and white. A look of worry was upon her face. Gosling could see pain in her eyes. Thinking nothing of himself, he rushed to her side. He gazed up and saw her looking down at him. Something about her eyes made it difficult for him to breathe, or perhaps it was his helmet strap tightening around his throat as he looked up.
“Heart’s Dearest,” Gosling said to Celestia.
“Gosling… how are you holding up? I’m sorry that we did not get a chance to speak last night. You were in bed.” Lowering her head, Celestia touched noses with Gosling, bumping his snoot with her own. “I heard about what you did for Luna.” As Celestia spoke, her lips brushed up against Gosling’s.
“I’m not doing well,” Gosling said, admitting the truth, even though he was hesitant to do so. Tilting his head to one side, he surprised Celestia with a kiss, latching on to her lips with his own.
“Gosling, there is so much going on. I don’t even know where to begin. You should have been told about not leaving the palace without an escort. I feel that Luna and I were responsible for that breach of protocol, because we left without an escort. We were a bad example. An officer was supposed to come and inform you… he failed in his duties and is now being disciplined.” Celestia’s ears dropped. “Gosling, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you are going to be disciplined as well.”
“For what?” Gosling asked. “For leaving?”
“For threatening Sergeant Shamrock,” Celestia replied in a low whisper, “I don’t know everything that happened, but there are witnesses that heard you do it. Gosling, darling, you must learn to watch what you say. Everything you say and do will be met with scrutiny.”
“He flirted with my mother,” Gosling said as his feathers fluffed out. “Right in front of me! He’s lucky that I didn’t floor him!” Gosling took a deep breath and felt a hot flush in his cheeks. “Not that I could. I’ve watched Shamrock lay twenty ponies flat in an open brawl and he wasn’t even breathing hard when he was done. Not even the dust sticks to him.”
“Gosling, darling, you have a very pretty mother. If I might be honest, your mother has it going on.”
Flummoxed, Gosling stared up at Celestia in a state of dumbfounded stupification.
“Your response needs work. Remember Gosling, poker face. Raven is trying to teach you. You need to listen to her, or she is going to twist those adorable little ears of yours right off, and then I will be left with nothing to whisper my secrets into.”
His face contorted into a sour scowl and he looked down at the floor, staring down at his own hooves. He could feel Celestia breathing on him. He hoped that she wasn’t too disappointed. He snorted and could feel the back of his throat burning, a painful tickle that wasn’t going away.
“You must hurry, Gosling. You need to be going. Present yourself well.” Celestia kissed Gosling on the white spot between his ears. “Remember, everything you do is under scrutiny. Poker face. Be the good little pony that I know you can be.”
“I’ll do my best,” Gosling promised as he looked back up at Celestia.
The room was hot with bodies. Far too many ponies were crammed into a small space. Flashbulbs popped every few seconds. Gosling surveyed the scene. He saw Skyfire Flash and his heart sank. She looked terrified beyond reason, her eyes were red, bloodshot, and she was weeping. Her frightened eyes darted from one direction to another with each shout and each flash of a camera. Gosling realised that the press was going to eat her alive.
Skyfire’s mother was sitting in the corner, with her back facing the press, he could see that she was sobbing. She had her face covered with her wings and with each pop of a flashbulb she cringed as if being struck. Beside her, Skyfire’s father glared at his daughter and Gosling could not read his expression. Anger? Hatred? It was impossible to tell.
One thing was for certain, whatever relationship Skyfire had with her parents was never going to be the same. Nothing in her life would ever be the same, just like nothing in his life would ever be the same. No matter what either of them did, neither of them could ever go back to having a normal life. Thinking of this, Gosling pitied her.
He felt like weeping himself. As much as he hated her, she didn’t deserve this. Nopony deserved this. He looked and saw Blueblood. He looked tired and worn out. Gosling suspected that Blueblood had been awake all night. He certainly looked that way.
Rooted where he stood, Gosling came to a slow understanding. He couldn’t deal with this. He could not stand here and watch as this happened. He just couldn’t. He felt no love for Skyfire, not after what she had done, he was still sorting out just how much he hated her with lots of therapy and seeing a counselor.
This was wrong. Gosling felt his stomach twisting into knots inside of him. Skyfire was going to confess everything she had done and the press were going to rip her to shreds. Afterwards, her life wouldn’t be worth anything. He couldn’t watch this happen. He started to feel sick again and his sinuses burned as he tried to swallow an acidic belch.
“I’ll not be part of this,” Gosling said in a creaky voice. Before anypony could say anything or even react, he was gone, having turned tail and galloped out of the door.
Hooves clattering over the marble floors, Gosling ran away, no longer caring, consequences be damned. He slipped and skittered as he went around corners. He thought about fleeing Canterlot. He thought about going AWOL. This place brought out the worst in ponies. A part of him hated this place. He thought about Skyfire—her life was ending—at least he had the gilded cage to look forward to. He would be a pretty bird in an even prettier cage.
He knew that if he wanted, he could call this off. He could leave. His life would be ended as well. He would be the pony who ran away when it got tough. He had ran away from home when things got tough there. He had no idea where to go or where to run. He loved Celestia, but he wasn’t sure if he could keep doing this. Maybe he didn’t have what it took to keep playing this game.
He came to a skidding, screeching halt on the marble floors and almost smacked into Luna. Her face was swollen and she was covered in bandages. She limped with each step. One wing was in a sling. Some of the bandages were stained crimson. She looked sleepy and in pain.
He stood there, panting, not knowing what to say.
“Private Gosling… what art thou doing?” Luna asked.
“I couldn’t... face it,” Gosling replied, panting.
“This… trollop... the filly that did you wrong… the spoiled little strumpet that sought to besmirch your good name…” Luna paused, blinked, swallowed, and then continued, “She who wanted to do you harm… to do Us harm, she who wanted to cause Us suffering, and you run away?”
“I can’t watch her life end…” Gosling sucked in wind and shook his head as he fought the urge to throw up. “I can’t. She’s a bad pony, she’s awful… but I… I just can’t!”
“And if somepony was to smear the honour of mine sister or I, you would just walk away? Do we mean so little to you?” Luna’s tone was as icy as the void of space. “I had thought you a better pony.”
“She’s just a stupid filly! She doesn’t deserve this!” Gosling snapped. He watched Luna’s head jerk back.
“She deserves this and worse! And you shame us all by running away! Fie on you, wastrel, thou lack even base courage to deal with thine enemies!”
Something inside of Gosling boiled over. Instead of throwing up, he exploded. “LOOK HERE, LITTLE MISS HIGH AND MIGHTY! IT’S THAT KIND OF HAUGHTY ATTITUDE THAT MAKES PONIES AFRAID OF YOU AND NOT WANT YOU AROUND!”
“How dare you speak to me in such a tone!” Luna barked in a voice thick with pain.
“That right there! This is why ponies love your sister but are scared enough to piss around you!” Gosling’s lip curled back into a snarl.
“Silence thine disrespectful mouth this instant!” Luna demanded.
“You know what? You can take that long princessly horn of yours—”
“Silence!”
“—and you can stick it up your own ass—”
“Silence!”
“—and you can go and f—”
“SILENCE!”
“ —k yourself! Go back into the dark of the night where you belong, you nightmare!”
Gosling did not see the wounded look of agony on Luna’s face as he bolted away. He ran as though Tartarus had spilled open behind him. After building up speed, he took off, flying indoors, swooping through the hallway in an almost blind state as tears burned his eyes and blurred his vision.
Over the beating of his own wings, he did not hear the sound of Luna weeping.
Entering her room, Celestia stopped before she stepped in a puddle. She stood on three legs, her right front hoof still raised, and stared down at the pool of yellow-greenish puke. The room stank, the acrid scent of vomit burned her nose and made her eyes water.
“Gosling?” Celestia strained to get the words out of her mouth. She heard splattering in the distance, then coughing. She stepped over the puddle, now feeling sick herself. Her dock tingled and she felt chills. “Gosling, answer me…”
There was no answer. She stepped over another puddle and hurried over to where Gosling’s room was. She froze in the doorway, horrified by what she saw. She felt her heart rising into her throat and she could feel the blood pounding through her ears.
His head hung off of the edge of his bed and his body was racked with dry heaves. His wings hitched against his sides. His eyes looked vacant and bloodshot. He had been choking. A long string of bile and drool hung from his lips. She heard him gagging, straining to breathe, and as she stood staring, vomit trickled from both his nostrils.
“Guards! Fetch a doctor at once!” Celestia commanded in a reedy voice that was almost screechy with worry. She rushed forwards and using her magic, she began to try and clear his airway. “Gosling can you hear me?” She shook him, perhaps a little harder than she intended in her panic, and strained to hear some kind of response.
His wings flapped against his side, his barrel expanded, and his whole body was racked with more dry heaves. The bile that dribbled from his lips as he sputtered was green. Celestia could smell the acrid tang of urine in the air.
She touched her snoot to him, placing it against his ear. His skin was feverish—he was burning up and far too hot to the touch. He was soaked with sour smelling sweat that smelled foul and left her nose damp. She heard a weak whimper and stood there, helpless, unable to do anything as he continued to dry heave.
“Gosling…” Celestia kept trying to clear his airway to ease his breathing, but his nostrils kept clogging. She shook him again, trying to clear him out so that he could breathe. She could hear him choking as he heaved. His breathing sounded soupy and wet. Something was raspy and his lungs gurgled. She began to worry that he was drowning in his own vomit.
“GUARDS!” Celestia’s shriek shattered glass all around her.
When she saw the doctor, Celestia ceased her pacing. She stood still, waiting, feeling that somehow, this was all her fault. The doctor approached with her ears pinned back against her skull. Her white coat was covered in greenish yellow stains and needed changing.
“Well?” Celestia asked in a sandpapery voice that was nothing at all like her usual dulcet tones. “Don’t mince words.”
“He’ll be fine, but he needs rest. His lungs filled with highly acidic bile, which burned them. He needs his stress level reduced considerably. I’ve also spoken with his therapist. He’s missed a few visits. She says that he is naturally high strung. She’ll be stopping by to check on him when he’s awake, aware, and feeling better. Right now, he’s been medicated with a heavy dose of ketamine and dilaudid. All that dry heaving has taken a toll on his body.”
Celestia thought back to the week that Gosling had spent with her. The heaviness she felt grew to the point of causing physical pain. She grimaced and saw the doctor cringe. The little mare stepped backwards. She began to feel ill herself.
“Majesty?” The doctor sounded worried.
“I’ll be fine,” Celestia said, lying through her perfect teeth. “I need to go. I want reports every hour. When he is awake and can talk, I wish to speak to him.”
“Of course.” The doctor nodded.
“I have an empire to run.” Celestia lifted her head high. “Keep me informed.”
Celestia now feared the worst. Distracted, confused, and hurt, she gulped down a glass of cold water and allowed it to spill over her muzzle. She had just done something awful. She had sent her sister away. She didn’t wish to speak to Luna at the moment for the fear that she might start screaming and then be unable to stop. The hurt she had seen in Luna’s eyes had almost been too much to bear.
The Princess of the Sun feared that she neared her own breaking point. Luna of all ponies should have known better, as she knew Gosling’s mind, having been in his dreams, knowing his fears, his worries, his fragile state. And Luna had known these things, but she had torn into him anyway, which Celestia found inexcusable. She wanted to hurl her sister off of the mountain and into the valley below. She had refused to listen to Luna’s excuses.
She heard the sound of Raven creeping up on her in a cautious, fearful way. She wanted to chew out Raven, too… Raven had been the one who had selected an officer to speak to Gosling and explain the new rules rather than do it herself. Frustrated, Celestia ground her teeth together and the scraping sound filled the room. She heard Raven’s hooves go silent as Raven froze, just outside of her field of vision.
Through an intense act of will, Celestia forced her teeth to stop scraping against themselves.
“I think the crucible became too much to bear,” Celestia said, almost spitting out the words. Her tongue and lips felt dry even though she had just been drinking. “So… Raven, how is our situation? How did the press conference go?”
She heard Raven clearing her throat. She heard the swish of a twitching tail. Celestia was almost certain that she could hear the sound of Raven sweating. She hadn’t moved a muscle and Celestia felt a twinge of guilt.
“Would it be better if I left?” Raven asked in a cautious, fearful voice.
Slumping on her cushion, Celestia’s ears drooped in shame. “No.”
Moving with slow caution, Raven came over and sat down opposite Celestia at the low table. She set down her carryall bag and peered at Celestia through her spotless glasses. The little unicorn made no sudden movements, made no sound, and never once took her eyes off of Celestia.
“Skyfire has been placed under observation… a psychiatrist wanted her placed under suicide watch. It’s sinking in and she’s starting to realise the enormity of the consequences. She’s in bad shape… not much better than Gosling. There is some concern that the stress could make her miscarry.”
Raising her water glass, Celestia took a drink.
“Blueblood has asked to be the judge.”
Swallowing a mouthful of water, Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “He is not an alicorn.”
“But he is a prince. He is a royal, as much as any of the rest of you. He has the authority. He just doesn’t have the wings. He says that it should be either him or Shining Armor. You have too much invested emotionally, Luna, well, I think we all know how Luna feels, Twilight would take this badly because of the press connections—”
“And Cadance?” Celestia asked.
“This would break Cadance’s heart. Having to sentence Gosling’s first love. Blueblood brings up an excellent point. There are no appropriate judges available for the high court.” Raven let out a dry sounding cough, took off her glasses, and began to rub her eyes.
“You know what… let Blueblood do it. He’s remained calm and objective through all of this. He earned his title of ‘prince’ the hard way, so I say, let him do the work he is suited for.” As Celestia spoke, she felt the pressure in her barrel ease a little bit.
“I have been less than perfect,” Raven admitted in a low voice that was full of shame.
“I have too,” Celestia replied, looking her most trusted assistant in the eye. “All of this stress and pressure… it’s getting to the both of us. I wish things could go back to how they used to be, when this crown wasn’t quite so heavy.”
“As the country grows, things are only going to get harder,” Raven said.
Celestia nodded. “I know…”
Warm and floating on a cloud, Gosling drifted in between the waking world and sleep. He could feel his mother’s warm body beside him in the bed. It was good to be a colt again, a little colt, free of worry and stress. He had just had the most terrible dream that he had grown up and his life was ruined. Smiling, content, Gosling snuggled closer to his mother. She was so big and warm and soft. He pressed his face against her, glad to have her close.
“Gosling?”
Squirming, Gosling struggled to remain asleep. “Ma, I don’t wanna go to school today.” It was hard to talk and he swallowed, trying to get the burning tickle out of his throat. His voice sounded funny in his own ears. It was all wrong. “Can we go to the museum instead?”
“Gosling…”
Opening his eyes, Gosling woke up and looked up at his mother. She was blue. She was so very blue and so very big. She was so very blue and had teal eyes. She also had a long blue horn. Gosling blinked. His mother was all wrong. His groggy mind had trouble accepting this reality. He had to still be dreaming. He didn’t want to be an adult like he had been in the dream. His life had gone all wrong.
“Gosling, let not thyself be troubled…”
His mother talked funny. He blinked again. His mother looked funny and his mother talked funny. Gosling’s drug addled brain had trouble making the connection, but when the connection was made, Gosling responded in the only way his doped up immobile body would allow.
He began screaming. Weak, gurgling screams that made his damaged lungs bubble and he began to choke on fluid that oozed up from deep inside of him. He tasted blood and bile in his mouth. His screams died and became whimpers.
“Thou art a most silly pony…”
“Majesty…” The breathless guard stood in the doorway, his sides heaving after running. “Your sister—”
“Yes?” Celestia’s eyebrow raised.
“She is in Gosling’s room and refuses to leave. She became quite hostile toward the guard when we told her that he is not to be disturbed. She ordered us away.”
Celestia sucked in a deep breath. “Oh sh—”
Raven let out a startled, frightened gasp.
“—it!” Celestia was off of her cushion in a moment. “Summon more of the guard. As many as possible, as fast as possible! Do it now! Sound the alarm!”
Turning tail, the guard ran off to do as he was told.
“Oh please, not again… not again…” Celestia’s words were fearful, pleading whimpers.
“Thou art a very brave pony to have stood up to me,” Luna said in a soft whisper as she stroked Gosling’s face with the side of her fetlock. “The words thou spake had a grain of truth to them.” Luna looked down into Gosling’s eyes and saw that the fear was gone. He was calming down. She allowed a little more of her magic to flow into him, bringing him closer to a waking dream state, where pain could not reach him. She owed him that.
“Thou hast my apology.” Luna’s voice was a soft whisper. “I shall keep thee safe and free from pain.”
Humming a lullaby, Luna yawned, but kept her hypnotic gaze upon Gosling. His eyes were half closed and he looked sleepy. She saw his lips moving and after a few moments of struggling to talk, she heard him say, “I’m sorry too.” Then, he yawned, and Luna could see that the roof of his mouth looked scalded. Stringy bits hung down and his orange tongue had white acid blisters all over it. Luna cradled his head in her forelegs and kept humming her soft lullaby.
Outside the door, she heard hooves and her ears perked.
Frozen in the doorway, Celestia wasn’t quite sure what was going on. She blinked a few times and behind her, the guard waited. Luna seemed quite unconcerned about everything. She was humming some lullaby from a thousand years ago, a tune that had long ago faded into obscurity. Celestia’s ears stood up when she heard Gosling yawn. Luna was holding him, cradling his head, and if Celestia’s senses could be trusted, was using her magic to keep him suspended in a waking dream state. It took several long, confusing seconds for Celestia to realise that Luna was keeping him free of pain and doing so without harsh drugs.
The white alicorn’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t believe that she had just assumed the worst about her sister again. She thought back to the night when she had dreamed about Gosling’s death. A terrible burning shame filled Celestia and at that moment, more than anything else, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
“Well, don’t just stand there, do come in,” Luna said in a sleepy voice.
“Luna, do forgive me, but I would very much like to know what is going on,” Celestia said as she settled down upon a cushion beside Gosling’s bed. She could hear the guard dispersing outside the door. She looked at Luna, but Luna still had her eyes locked on Gosling’s.
“Oh, an understanding was reached,” Luna replied in a low, melodic whisper.
Luna’s answer did not satisfy. Celestia felt her heart thudding against her ribs. For a moment, she detested Luna for being so calm at this moment. So detatched. She seemed so unconcerned that hundreds of guards had been milling about outside of the door. A part of Celestia wanted to be lectured, to be made to feel guilty. To be made to answer for her poor judgment.
“I accused Gosling of cowardice,” Luna admitted as her humming paused, “and I was wrong. He was brave enough to stand up to me and risk losing you. He is brave, if perhaps foolhardy. I admire that. There will be words about his treatment of me though.”
For a second, Celestia wanted to give her sister a good natured neck-wringing. Luna’s mercurial moods were the source of much frustration. She heard a raspy cough from Gosling and Luna’s ears perked.
“He’s trying to speak.” Luna resumed humming, making a soft pleasant sound.
“How much power do I have?” Gosling asked in a croaking voice.
“Gosling, darling, now is not the time to quibble over authority,” Celestia replied, saying her words in the most gentle manner she could muster. “Since when do you crave power? Have the drugs messed up your mind?”
“How much authority?” Gosling’s words bubbled in his throat.
“Oh, the royal consort enjoys a little authority, but you are not yet a royal consort.” Luna lowered her head a little until she was almost snoot to snoot with Gosling. “Be calm.”
“Then I beg for a wedding gift.” Gosling made a feeble effort to raise a foreleg and failed. He lay there, limp, gasping, looking up into Luna’s eyes, unable to turn away, held by her magic.
“What is it that you want, Gosling?” Celestia asked as she leaned closer to the bed. “Speak plainly.”
“I want,” Gosling began in a soupy voice, his body shuddering, “I want Skyfire pardoned in my name. Please—”
“Gosling, no.” Celestia shook her head. “You must understand, every few generations, somepony makes a mess big enough that we have to convene a high court. The public needs a reminder of authority because the public memory fades over time. An example must be made.”
Lips moving, Gosling’s nostrils flared as he struggled to speak. “Wrong message.” Spittle flew from his lips and splashed upon Luna’s face.
“Gosling, we cannot have the public disrespecting our authority.” Celestia fell silent and tried to think of some way to get Gosling to understand what was at stake here. “If we allow this to happen, such attempts will become more and more commonplace. Our position is already precarious. It is getting harder and harder to maintain governance. We have anarchists trying to disrupt our way of life. There is too much instability.”
“Wrong message,” Gosling said again and then began coughing. He whooped a few times and his lungs whistled. His voice was a frog’s croak. “Forgiveness is a better message.”
“Why forgiveness?” Luna asked. “That seems like inviting disaster. If we show weakness now, more and more agitators and dissidents will see our failure to act as an inability to act. We will be beset on all sides by our enemies.”
“You’re wrong.” Gosling struggled to breathe as he stared into Luna’s eyes. “Forgiveness is what you crave… but you do not offer it to another… is it weakness for Celestia to trust you with me? You”—Gosling coughed and whooped a few times while his whole body went rigid—“you killed a husband that you shared. Should Celestia forgive you and trust you, or send you away and protect me from any threat you might pose so she can be happy?”
As Celestia sat watching, a tear rolled down Luna’s cheek and splashed upon Gosling’s nose. After the first, another fell, and then another. Gosling drew in a raspy, laboured breath. Silent, and not knowing what to say, Celestia began to ponder forgiveness.
The night had been a long and sleepless one for Celestia, who had much to worry about. Now, exhausted, she was forced to face the day. She didn’t want to face the day, she wanted to lounge about in bed, maybe spend time with Luna, or Gosling, or perhaps both at the same time, but there was just too much to do.
She took a sip of coffee and missed her usual tea. She needed something stronger. She watched as Raven organised the day portfolio and sat in near silence, only saying something when a reply was necessary.
“Your meeting with the Cutie Mark Crusaders is coming up,” Raven said in a low voice. “As a reminder, they present an interesting conundrum—far too many ponies are getting the same sort of cutie marks or even identical cutie marks, causing certain job markets to become oversaturated with applicants, making some jobs very difficult to come by. Other jobs aren’t being filled. They have a presentation prepared, complete with a slideshow, and they believe it will become a national crisis.”
Ears drooping, Celestia took a sip of coffee. Their entire way of life did not adapt well with scale. When Equestria had been small, things seemed far more balanced. Or had they? Did things just seem balanced because ponies made do with what they had?
“Princess Cadance sent a dispatch. She will be returning to Canterlot to deal with Gosling directly—”
“What?” Celestia lowered her coffee cup and stared at her assistant.
“Princess Cadance got word from Gosling’s therapist about his condition. Cadance feels her personal touch is required. She believes this is more than just simple stress wearing him down.” Raven blinked and lifted a telegram sheet. “She says nothing else and offers no other details. Just that she is coming to deal with this.”
“Broken hearts are funny things. I’ll admit, I don’t understand them in the way that Cadance does.” Celestia took a sip of coffee and grimaced, her body trembling. This was Luna grade coffee. “Gosling does have a broken heart. The poor dear has to know that Skyfire was planning on using him. She was already pregnant. She knew that Gosling would marry the first filly he bedded. His own beliefs and values were being used against him.”
“His own beliefs and values saved him,” Raven replied as she set down Cadance’s telegram. “His integrity saved him from a bad life.”
“Raven, he loved her. For good or for ill, he loved her. And I think a part of him still loves her, even if he says he hates her. Gosling is a good pony and while he says he hates her, I do not believe him capable of strong hatred. His heart is gentle… Cadance coming to look after him to mend his broken heart proves my point, I believe.” Celestia stared down into her brown cup of mud and wondered how Luna drank this stuff.
“Will you allow him to pardon her?” Raven asked in a low whisper.
“I don’t know,” Celestia replied. “He makes a compelling argument and Blueblood agrees… we should focus our energies upon the press. Prosecute the one who instigated this mess. Blueblood also makes the argument that this could be seen as an attack upon the free press.”
“Blueblood has the peculiar gift of being objective enough to see both sides of an issue,” Raven said as she organised Celestia’s day planner with her own, syncing the two. “He’s infuriating sometimes, playing the draconequus’ advocate. But, he is seldom wrong.”
“Which is why I am worried.” Celestia’s eyes lifted and she looked over at her assistant. She could see her own reflection in Raven’s glasses. Her reflection looked tired. “Skyfire Flash is a foolish, foolish filly who has messed up her life. Gosling is right… she should be pardoned. Starlight Glimmer was shown mercy—”
“Starlight was sentenced to a lifetime of service and servitude to Twilight Sparkle’s cause as part of the agreement for leniency and mercy.” Raven gave Celestia an apologetic glance for interrupting. “Perhaps a compromise can be reached. Perhaps Skyfire can offer something in exchange for a pardon.”
Hearing Raven’s words, Celestia’s ears stood up and Celestia began nodding. “I like the sound of that. Mercy should be shown. A pardon should be given—but as an exchange. She should have some consequence to her actions, but be offered a chance to redeem herself in the eyes of the public.”
Raven cleared her throat. “Majesty, you should have Gosling decide what her fate is. If she is to be pardoned, you should make him think of something she can offer in return.”
Eyes narrowing, ears twitching, Celestia took a drink of coffee, which stained her lip brown. She took Raven’s words into consideration and her brow furrowed with deep, wide wrinkles. Her muzzle even crinkled and lines appeared in the corners of her eyes, making her look wizened. That would be a good test of Gosling’s leadership abilities.
Sighing, her many wrinkles vanishing, Celestia said, “Raven, we’re diminutive little horses. We’re fuzzy, we have big, adorable expressive eyes, and plush, squeezable bodies made for all manner of social contact. You’d think that we’d be happy playing out in green fields, dancing under the sun, the moon, and the stars. But no… no… we had to go and make things complicated. We had to build civilisation… develop a love of tea”—She looked down into her coffee cup and snorted in disgust—“we had to establish governance… the green fields gave way to villages, towns, and cities. At some point, things went very, very wrong. The tea was a brilliant idea, but everything else… ugh!”
Silent, blinking, looking owlish in her glasses, Raven stared at Celestia, not knowing how to respond. Raven’s head ducked down and she made herself look as small and meek as possible, not knowing what Celestia was up to. The silence became oppressive and Raven knew she had to make some kind of response. Celestia appeared to be waiting. Raven swallowed and felt very, very small compared to her beloved monarch.
“Well, some ponies didn’t like the taste of green grass… we had to have progress…”
Gosling nodded in appreciation as his mother placed a glass of water down upon his bedside table and then he smiled at her. He had been worried about having his mother around. She was an excitable mare. He would never say it of course, but she could be a major source of his stress. His mother could be very loud, very vocal, and very much a cause of tension in his life. He felt a little ashamed for being afraid about her showing up.
But, she hadn’t been herself. She was quiet, she was soft spoken, and she wasn’t at all excitable. Gosling wasn’t sure what was up, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his therapist, Lumina Loveletter, might have said something to his mother. He wanted to ask, he wanted to say something, but he didn’t dare do so out of the fear that it might touch off a shouting match—and Gosling was in no condition for a shouting match. He couldn’t even sit up on his own. He had pulled all of his stomach muscles and strained his abdominal wall. His lungs were burned and he had trouble just breathing. Every hour or so, he had to drink some horrible chalky drink that neutralised his stomach acid.
He felt bad that he was afraid of a shouting match with his mother. After everything she had done for him. Everything she had sacrificed. His mother had her own stresses and she just came on a little strong sometimes. She was a good mare—she just overreacted a little bit sometimes and when she overreacted, he overreacted, and then sometimes, things got out of hoof. But he loved her, so he dealt with it.
“Gossy, are you feeling okay?” Sleet asked.
It took some effort, but Gosling managed to reply, “I’m fine.”
“Okay, good. I gotta go… you need rest. Gossy…”
Something about the way her words had trailed off made him nervous. He waited. Gosling waited and felt cold sweat begin to trickle down his neck, not knowing for certain what his mother was about to do or say.
“Gossy, I’m sorry if I can be a little too much to handle sometimes,” Sleet said as she stood beside Gosling’s bed. “No, don’t say anything. I suspect that I had my own part in all of this. Sometimes, Gossy, you just fall into a rut and you take somepony for granted.” Sleet’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “I think you and I focused on survival so much… and you were just there… and when things got bad for me, I just let go and let the steam out because you were the only pony around that listened to me or cared about how I felt or what I thought. You were my friend, Gossy… for the longest time, you were my only friend. With all the work I did, with everything, you were the only pony I was comfortable talking to and I think I just dumped everything on you because you always acted so grown up and mature. And I was wrong for doing that, Gossy.”
As his mother walked away, heading for the door, Gosling said, “Hey Ma…”
He saw her turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her blue eyes held the promise of tears, but she was holding them back. He coughed and fought against the painful tickle in his throat. His tongue felt dry and was covered in painful lumps. When he spoke, it scraped against his teeth and hurt.
“Ma, I love yous…”
Sleet took another step for the door. “Gosling, I love you too.” Turning her head towards the door, she pulled it open. “We’ll talk more when you feel better. But for now, I need to go.” The white pegasus mare stepped through the door and was gone. The door shut behind her.
Gosling knew why she left. She didn’t want to upset him by crying, Stuck in the bed, Gosling felt a few tears trickle down his own cheeks and he felt wretched. She had left to avoid causing him more stress, but more stress seemed unavoidable. Even with the anti-nausea drugs, Gosling felt like puking his guts out.
“Seville…” Gosling was surprised to see the earth pony standing in his doorway. He coughed, his throat feeling raw, and he watched as Seville stepped inside, a heavy, battered, beat up bag draped around his neck. “What brings you here?”
“I was worried about a friend,” Seville replied. “I’m not here as a reporter, which is why Raven gave me permission to visit you.”
Hearing these words made Gosling feel a little better. He had been feeling pretty low since his mother had left. He was glad to see Seville. He liked the amicable earth pony. He turned his head so he could get a better view of Seville as he sat down.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Gosling said in a croaking voice. He fought back the urge to cough. “I could use a little help with something, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh?” Seville turned his head and blinked. “Anything for a friend… after what you did for me… just let me know how I can help.”
Struggling to collect his thoughts, Gosling fought back a wave of nausea and tried to think about how to best present his ideas. For a moment, it felt as though the bed was moving beneath him, and the ceiling over him seemed to distort. He felt queasy almost to the point of puking. All of his vomiting and stomach acid had messed up his inner ears, which the doctor said might be permanent.
“I need help writing something out. A statement. As the future consort, I need to let ponies know how things are going to be.” Gosling gulped and clutched his stomach with his hooves, then waited for the queasiness to subside a little. “Nothing too serious, just a gentle reminder. I think it is time for some changes.”
“I can help!” Seville replied with a great deal of enthusiasm.
“And once it is written, you must take it to Raven,” Gosling said. His eyes narrowed and he gazed at his friend. “Tell her that I insist. I will be more than a pretty bird in a gilded cage.”
“Okay.” Seville’s head bobbed.
Gosling let out a foul smelling acidic burp and then said, “Seville… a pony’s castle is his home…”
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…”
When Gosling awoke, he realised that Celestia was asleep. He could feel her slow, regular breathing, the steady rise and fall of her barrel against his back. In that moment, he knew, he knew that this was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life waking up. Perhaps Cadance was right—perhaps ponies should sleep together before marriage.
Just without the boning.
Yawning, he squirmed in the bed a little bit and his ears popped. He made himself yawn again and the pressure in his ears caused them to pop once more. He felt a little better and a little less queasy. He lifted his head and looked around. A cup of water was so close—his dry mouth begged for a drink, but he was pinned under Celestia’s foreleg and she weighed a ton. He didn’t know why alicorns were so heavy, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ask why so he could find out. He squirmed a little, stretching out his neck, hoping that he could just reach the straw somehow. The cup was sitting on the little table that sat beside the bed. Gosling, now duck-lipped, couldn’t quite reach the straw. It was so close, but so far away.
The cup was surrounded in a warm golden glow; it lifted and then was floated over to him. He felt Celestia give him a squeeze as the straw slipped between his lips. He drank, but with slow caution, knowing that if he drank too fast, he’d choke. His throat was still raw and swallowing was difficult.
As he finished off his water, another more pressing, far more urgent need overtook him. He swallowed a few times, moving his lower jaw, and he felt his ears pop again. Sleeping with his head elevated had helped, just as the doctor had said it would.
“I need to summon a nurse,” Gosling said in a low, scratchy whisper.
“I can help you,” Celestia offered.
Gosling shook his head. “That doesn't feel right. You’re a princess and—”
“I am going to be your wife and you are going to be my husband.” Celestia’s voice sounded a bit miffed and she waggled her ears as she tried to banish her drowsiness. “Let me carry you.”
“No…” Gosling felt Celestia’s foreleg around his barrel tighten. “No, I don’t want to be carried, let me see if I can walk. Just don’t let me fall over.” He felt the foreleg around his middle loosen and he heaved a sigh of relief. Being prideful wasn’t going to do him any good, he realised. He was going to have to pick and choose his battles with a bit more care and caution in the future.
Without warning, Gosling felt himself lifted in the warm embrace of magic, he rolled in the air, and his hooves were pointed down to the floor. He was given a moment to get his bearings and then he was lowered. His stomach still hurt and cramped from all of the horrible dry heaving. When his hooves clicked down upon the tile, he made a few little hoofy kicks, trying to find his balance.
The room around him swam and he felt the pressure in his ears increase as vertigo gripped him. He yawned—as a pegasus, this was a natural reflexive measure to release pressure when dealing with rapid altitude changes. The dizziness subsided a bit, but not much. He gave himself a quiet reminder that things were bad right now, but might get better later, he had to be patient and let time pass.
The very first thing that Gosling figured out was, he wasn’t going to be able to move fast. He took a very slow and deliberate step, lifting his hoof high, and then allowing some of his body weight to shift forwards before he followed through with the other steps that brought all of his hooves forwards. This wasn’t so bad. He did it again, moving with slow, careful, deliberate placement of his hooves.
“Gosling, darling, if I might make an honest observation…”
“Yes?” Gosling turned his head and tried to read Celestia’s eyes.
“The way you are walking is very regal. A little stiff and formal, but regal.” Celestia blinked, grunted, and slid out of bed. As she became situated upon her own hooves, she yawned. After smacking her lips a few times, she lowered her head down to Gosling’s eye level. “Look for every advantage and be bold, Gosling.”
Nodding, believing her words, believing in her sincerity, Gosling looked down at his own front hooves, yawned, felt his ears pop, and then continued towards the door with slow, steady steps. Looking a little sleepy and regal wasn’t such a bad thing, and would be better than looking drunk. He felt Celestia come up beside him.
“Formal march, soldier. High step and flex those knees.” Celestia’s voice was gentle, but commanding, a benevolent, loving tyrant. “Keep your head higher. Better posture will probably help.”
Lifting his head, Gosling yawned again and felt a huge, painful pop. His ears rang, he could hear a chiming sound and there was a strange pressure just behind his eyes. The pressure subsided and the ringing in his ears quieted down. Something bitter drained down the back of this throat, no doubt his ears were draining. He wondered if this is what ear wax tasted like. The doctor had mentioned something about this. He took another slow, uncertain step and found it a little easier. The big painful pop had cleared his head a bit. He grimaced at the taste on the back of his tongue and watched as Celestia opened the door. He could still feel her magic around him and he took comfort in the fact that he could not stumble and fall.
The hallway awaited and Gosling felt confident about showing off his new walk.
“Comfy?” Celestia asked as Gosling settled down in the bed. There was an assortment of drinks on his bedside table and a few soft, bland foods in plastic cups for him to eat. “Would you like it if I wore a nurse’s uniform?” Celestia delighted in the blush that appeared upon Gosling’s face. She liked seeing him flustered.
She sat down beside the bed upon a large, plush cushion and lifted up one of the plastic cups. Narrowing her eyes, she read the label. “Strained carrots, bananas, and rice. Sounds delish.”
“Oh, you eat some,” Gosling croaked in reply as his eyes glittered with mischief. “What’s mine is yours, Heart’s Dearest.”
“Hmm.” Celestia peeled back the foil cover on the plastic cup and sniffed. She jerked her head back, squeezed her eyes shut, and shuddered from the smell. “I can’t believe they feed this to foals… yuck!” Opening her eyes, she blinked and held the plastic cup away from her, suspended in her magic. “Oh, this is bad. No salt added.”
“I’m not hungry,” Gosling said in a wet, raspy whisper.
“Gosling, you’re going to eat. Don’t make me go and get your mother and a high chair adjusted for your size. I’m positive that it would make your mother very, very happy.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Gosling said, his words a strained gasp.
“Oh? Think so? Try me.” Celestia indulged her own maternal side and armed herself with a plastic spoon. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
Letting out a whimper, Gosling closed his eyes and shook his head. “Carrots and bananas sound awful.”
“It does,” Celestia replied, agreeing. She lifted up another cup and read the label. “We also have strained peas and pumpkin—”
“Gross!”
“I must agree, it sounds revolting.” Celestia lifted up the third cup. “For dessert, we have puréed sweet potatoes and cauliflower.”
Unable to help himself, Gosling gagged as his stomach tried to reach up from from the depths of his bowels, circle around his windpipe, and strangle him. He coughed, gagged again, and then in a very weak voice he said, “Food like that, you pray to the alicorns after you eat it.” After a long pause, a weak, “Oy vey” escaped his lips and Gosling went still.
Feeling bad for doing so, Celestia found herself tittering at Gosling words. Oh, she knew that she shouldn’t be laughing, but Gosling was funny. She wasn’t laughing at him, but with him, even though he wasn’t laughing at the moment. Okay, so she was laughing for the both of them.
“If I eat, can I get a kiss?” Gosling asked, figuring it couldn’t hurt to bargain.
“After eating this stuff?” Celestia blinked in shock at Gosling’s boldness. “I think not!” She scooped out a spoonful of bananas, carrots, and rice, then held it up to her snoot so she could examine it. It was orange yellow goo and it was pretty horrifying, as far as foods went. “You know, Luna seeks to punish herself for her past. I’m tempted to make Luna the official taste tester for our nation’s pre-prepared foal food industry. This would be the sort of punishment that would make her feel validated. At least ponies could trust food endorsed by a princess.”
Opening his eyes, Gosling shuddered. “No…” He gave Celestia his most pleading stare. “Get away from me with that spoon.”
“Be brave, Gosling!” A wide, maniacal grin appeared on Celestia’s muzzle. She was enjoying this dinner date so far.
The door opened and somepony entered without knocking. Celestia craned her head around to see who it was. She saw pink. She saw lots of pink and she was very, very surprised. “Cadance, I did not expect you so soon.”
“Auntie!” Flurry Heart’s shrill cry filled the room and then the exuberant foal cringed. Looking apologetic, she glanced around the room. “Sowwy.”
Celestia eyed the yearling and wondered if little Flurry would even eat this goop. She set down the cups and slipped the spoon to rest in the bananas, carrots, and rice. Celestia was happy to see her niece.
Cadance strode forwards past Celestia and dumped Flurry upon the bed with Gosling. “I have wings and the ability to travel at supersonic speeds. Why wait on the train?” Cadance looked down at Gosling and her eyes narrowed. “You poor dear… we need to get you sorted out. As soon as I shoo my Auntie from the room, you and I are going to have a long, long talk about a great many things.”
“But I don’t want to go,” Celestia protested, shaking her head. “We slept together and then watched each other pee.” Celestia paused. “Well, he closed his eyes, but I know I kept watching.” Celestia grinned. “Our time together has been marvelous. I was about to feed him… I had him up and walking—”
“Tut-tut, Auntie… get gone.” Cadance pointed at the door.
Celestia looked down at Flurry Heart, who showed surprising gentleness as she hugged Gosling’s neck. Little Flurry, a rambunctious force of nature, had a shocking amount of care in her actions. Celestia couldn’t help but be amazed.
“Hewwo Mistah Goose!” Flurry held her head up and looked proud. “I’m Mommy’s helpah.”
With a sigh, Celestia realised that she would be leaving this room alone, with nopony to keep her company. It seemed that little Flurry was here on official business as well. She looked over at Cadance, who was tapping one hoof while she waited for Celestia to leave.
“Cadance, darling, see that he eats. He needs to eat. Watch out, he has sad eyes and he has no shame in using them.” Satisfied that Cadance would get the job done, Celestia departed and shut the door behind her.
“You look happy.” Turning, Celestia was surprised to hear Blueblood’s voice. He looked disheveled and out of sorts, as well as a bit irritated. Celestia wondered what was going on. It took a lot to ruffle Blueblood.
“It is good to see you happy,” Blueblood said in a low, tired sounding voice.
“What troubles you, Nephew?” Celestia asked.
“A lack of sleep, a heavy heart, and a growing sense of worry,” Blueblood replied as he looked up at Celestia. “Look, I know things are really messed up right now, but I need to know. Are you going to allow Gosling to pardon Skyfire?” Blueblood blinked and gave Celestia a pleading look. “Look, I need something, some kind of ray of hope that there will be something left for her to live for when all of this is said and done. I feel like I’m lying to her when I say that things can still be worked out. They have her on sedatives under a suicide watch. She’s tied to a bed so she can’t hurt herself.”
Hearing Blueblood’s words, Celestia’s heart sank as she realised that this was, in fact, tearing Blueblood apart. She stood, staring down at him, not knowing what to say, not sure how to respond.
“Let me punish those most responsible… the press… let me wring their necks. I’ll make the reporter that did this wish they had never been born and I’ll dismantle the media outlet they work for, seeing as how they supplied the bits to sway Skyfire’s mind… let me get some real justice… please!” Blueblood’s ears drooped and his face fell. For a moment, Blueblood looked far, far older than he really was.
This wasn’t an act. This wasn’t Blueblood hamming it up to provoke a response.
“This is a farce!” Blueblood hissed in anger. “If you try to prosecute that poor, stupid filly, I will abdicate my position and throw away my crown!” Blueblood’s voice wavered with emotion as he begged his aunt for leniency. “We must show that we can be reasonable… in this instance, mercy is our best option. Let us choose forgiveness!”
Hanging her head, Celestia gave Blueblood a weak nod. “Seek justice, Blueblood. I will allow Gosling to pardon Skyfire Flash and I know that Luna will agree. But I want the full weight of the Crown to come to rest upon those most responsible for this travesty. I want the aftermath of all of this to be so terrible that nopony will ever wish to do this again for fear of what the Crown might do. Am I clear?”
Blueblood gave his aunt a frantic nod. “Yes, yes, Your Majesty, you are clear, and I will make them rue the day they plotted against us. Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”
“Oh, and Blueblood…”
“Yes?”
“Go and give that poor filly something to live for. Don’t tell her about the pardon just yet, just let her know that we are considering leniency.” Celestia’s lips pursed together for a moment and she felt a heaviness in her heart. “Tell her that she has my forgiveness and that I will be coming to speak to her…”
As Celestia and Cadance stared at one another, the ticking of a clock was the only sound in the room. Being the only sound during the staring match, it seemed to possess a strange magic all of its own, growing louder and louder with each passing second, until each tick and tock was a thunderous sound that made velvety ears twitch with the passing time.
It was Celestia who broke the uncomfortable silence. “I just wanted to know what you two talked about, that’s all.”
“And I can’t tell you, I’m sorry.” Cadance’s eyes became apologetic. “If Gosling wants to tell you, he can. But I can’t.”
“But we’re to be married… I’m close to him… I need to know if he’s okay… I need to know how to help him—”
“And I need to respect his right to confidentiality.” Cadance’s lower lip protruded as she stood up to her aunt. “I’m sorry, but this is one instance where you just can’t have your way.” As Cadance spoke, she took a step forward and held her head up as high as possible.
It was Celestia who backed off, her ears pinning back, and she took a step backwards. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier in the way that you took it. Look, I’m just worried, okay? I’m sorry. We shouldn’t fight about this.”
“No, we shouldn’t,” Cadance replied, agreeing with her aunt and relaxing her defiant posture a bit. “He’s asleep. Our meeting exhausted him. He had a lot to say and in his current condition, talking takes a lot of effort. Once he wakes up, I’m certain he’ll want to talk to you.”
Celestia took a step forward, drawing closer to Cadance. “You set Luna and I up…”
“Yes I did. I told you, leaving something in the past isn’t the same as dealing with it. You forced my hoof… next time, take responsibility and deal with your issues and I won’t have to get involved.” Cadance stepped forwards, tilted her head to one side, and kissed Celestia on the cheek. “Sisters share a special love, and like any other love, it needs nurturing and tending. Now that the scab has been torn off, we can let the poison drain out and get some healing going. Luna’s already agreed to some therapy.”
“And I intend to follow through with my promise.” Celestia looked down into Cadance eyes as the two mares stood snoot to snoot. “I suppose you’ll be heading home now that you are done here.”
“Nope, I have to go and talk with Skyfire Flash. My work isn’t finished.” Cadance blinked and turned away from Celestia. She stood, blinking, one ear bobbing, and her tail swished around her hind legs. “It isn’t going to be easy. I’m hoping that Sleet has softened her up a bit.”
“What?” Celestia shook her head, not comprehending what she had just heard. “I’m sorry, but what?” A growing tightness in Celestia’s barrel was accompanied by a feeling of alarm. “You left Sleet with Skyfire?”
“She needed somepony,” Cadance said, sounding defensive, “her own mother didn’t want anything to do with her and neither did her father. She’s scared out of her mind right now. She’s alone, and scared, and pregnant, and she feels that her entire life is over and Sleet has been there, right where Skyfire is right now, and Sleet agreed to look after her and scratch her nose and get her drinks because Skyfire is still tied down in the bed and Sleet has shown an amazing level of understanding about the whole thing and everypony should be a bit more like Sleet and Equestria would be a better place.” Cadance sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a huff, her lips flapping and making a flatulent sound.
“Sleet is okay with looking after her?” Celestia asked in an incredulous voice.
“Well, when I first asked her, she was a bit miffed, but Sleet is driven by maternal morality. Once I appealed to that, it was easy. She caved.” Cadance shifted from her left hooves to her right hooves and then back again. “She’s been there, right where Skyfire is right now.”
Flummoxed, Celestia changed the subject. “About getting Gosling’s ears fixed—”
“Let me stop you right there,” Cadance said in a soft voice, “before you say anything else, that’s not going to be easy. I’ll let you talk to him and maybe you can talk some sense into him. You’ll find out his reasons soon enough.”
“He doesn’t want magical healing?” Celestia’s brows creased. “I swear by the sun, I am going to slap some sense into that colt. He’s stubborn and proud—”
“Which is why I put the two of you together… I wanted you to get a feeling of what it is like for others when they have to deal with you.” Cadance leveled her stare upon her aunt and there was no trace of a smile upon her muzzle. None at all.
“I’m not that bad,” Celestia said in her own defense as she glowered at her niece.
“Well, neither is he.” Cadance’s eyelids settled over her eyes, leaving them narrowed, and her pupils were black half-circles beneath them.
“Cadance, darling, I think those mommy hormones of yours—”
“Are making me irritable?” Cadance snapped. “Or maybe, just maybe, I’m frustrated because some ponies hold themselves to a different standard than they do others.” Cadance blinked. “When you’re stubborn, you’re tenacious and brave and steadfast. When other ponies are stubborn, they’re just being difficult, frustrating, and unreasonable. It always rubs you wrong when somepony is stubborn against you and what you want.”
“And so are you.” Cadance’s flinty expression softened. “I think the mommy hormones are getting to me. I feel all kinds of unreasonable anger about the fact that my uppity alicorn uterus betrayed me somehow.”
“What do you mean, Cadance?” Celestia asked, confused by Cadance’s words.
“I was on the pill.” Cadance let out a snort and rolled her eyes. “I was on the pill and somehow, this still happened. And I might have lied to Shining Armor just a little bit and told him that I planned this and now, I’m trying to figure out a way to be honest and come clean, because my conscience is eating at me like little nibbly piranhas.”
“What’s a piranha?” Now looking even more confused, Celestia extended a wing and touched Cadance on the neck, trying to comfort her.
“They’re a carnivorous fish with a rapacious appetite. Daring Do encounters some and she drops a bad guy into a river full of piranhas and in minutes, they strip all of the flesh from his bones.” Cadance’s ears perked up a bit at her aunt’s touch.
“That sounds ghastly. Nature is so fascinating.” Celestia cleared her throat. “I’ll have to go and read about them.”
“I need to go and check on Flurry and then I need to get to work with Skyfire.” Cadance put on her best professional face. “You need to schedule an appointment for some face time with a therapist.”
“Okay, I promise I will. Things are busy at the moment.”
“Things are always busy,” Cadance replied.
“Things are busier than usual. I give you my word that when things calm down a bit, I will make a real effort to get myself straightened out, okay?” Celestia looked her niece in the eye.
“I have your word?” Cadance asked.
“You do,” Celestia replied.
“Super secret alicorn promise?” Cadance’s eyes narrowed again and her ears angled forwards.
“Cross my heart and swear on my horn, may all of my feathers turn into candy corn.” Celestia cringed as she spoke the most sacred of all promises. “Really, Cadance, this is as bad as ‘Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs—”
“Not another word!” Cadance snapped in a commanding voice. “I will not have the sacred words profaned!” Cadance lifted one long, gangly foreleg, reached up, and booped her aunt on the nose. “I’m going, before you mess things up. Say goodbye, Auntie.”
“Goodbye, Auntie,” Celestia said with as much snark as she dared to muster.
The two mares began giggling, came together, and touched necks for a moment. Celestia wrapped her wings around Cadance, pulled her closer, and gave her niece a kiss on the cheek.
“Go and do what you do best,” Celestia whispered as she gave Cadance a squeeze, “and know I love you.”
The two mares stood looking at each other, one looking up, the other looking down, and once more, silence had arrived like an unwanted and unwelcomed guest to make things difficult. Celestia could not help but notice that Sleet looked tired and in need of rest. All of this had to be difficult for her—and somehow, she managed.
“Sleet…” Celestia’s single spoken word was hesitant and drawn out.
“Yeah?” The smaller mare yawned and covered her mouth with her foreleg.
“I won’t keep you… I’d imagine you’re eager for a break and maybe something to eat. Or some coffee. But I would like to thank you. You did something very nice and what you did says a lot about your character.” Celestia lowered her head so that she could be down at eye level with the pegasus that she had a growing respect for.
“She’s just a scared, stupid filly that made some dumb choices… what could I do?” Sleet’s eyes began to glimmer with tears. “She hurt my son and I’m still really angry… but what could I do?” Sleet wiped her nose and her eyes with her foreleg and turned away. “I gotta go. I’m sorry, I don’t want to be disrespectful, but I can’t talk right now.”
Sleet turned away and then hurried off, heading down the hallway, her hooves clicking upon the tiles. Celestia watched her go, admiring her strength and wishing that somehow she could offer a little comfort. She thought of Blueblood as Sleet departed and her heart ached for him as well.
It was easy to see where Gosling got his convictions from. Some ponies talked, others lived by example. Letting out a weary sigh, Celestia decided to go and check in with Raven to find out what was going on. She had spent the day slacking off and she was a bit worried about the state of things.
Looking up, Gosling could not remember ever seeing such a perfect night sky. Stars, billions and billions of them, were visible. The moon shone with a silvery light. He stood in a clearing with tall, damp grass, which tickled his frogs and left his legs feeling wet. The night air was cool and there was a pleasant breeze.
He sniffed, taking in the rich scents around him; loam, the smell of the forest, the faint smell of rotting wood, the smell of the grass, and the smell of woodsmoke. The smoke came from a ramshackle stone cottage some distance away. The cottage was of an old design, it had a sod roof and the grass was both tall and green. A round window next to the front door spilled out warm, inviting light.
Something else was in the air, something like… cinnamon. He couldn’t remember how he had come to this place, but here he was. He felt himself drawn towards the cottage, some invisible force compelled him to go. For him, the door would open. How he knew this, he did not know.
He moved without stumbling, without loss of balance, he moved without nausea, or discomfort, or pain in his ears as he headed for the door. He felt light, airy, and he moved with a swiftness that surprised him. The wet grass clung to his legs and water droplets sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight.
Inside the cottage, he heard laughter. His ears perked as he approached the door. He could hear voices, low, squeaky, somewhat shrill voices. The voices of fillies, and maybe a few squeaky colt voices as well. Intrigued, he closed the distance.
As he drew near, the door opened and a strange yet familiar face peered out at him. Warm teal eyes stared up at him. The strange flowing ethereal mane was gone, replaced with one of light blue, and a short, stubby horn protruded from her forehead. A peaceful smile could be seen upon her lips.
“Oh, thou art much too big,” Luna said to Gosling.
“I am?” Gosling asked, feeling a little confused.
“Not to worry, it can be fixed,” Luna replied. “I am most glad you got my invitation.”
“Invitation?” Gosling peered through the doorway and saw a group of foals gathered around a large table made of heavy wooden beams. He could smell treats, pastries, baked goods, and tea. The smell was mouth watering.
“Many of the foals in the infirmary are napping. We’re having a tea party. Many of the poor dears are far too miserable to have one in the waking world, so we have them here, away from pain, suffering, distress, and discomfort.”
“Oh.” Gosling tilted his head and looked down at Luna.
“Handsome Prince Gosling, would you come and join us?” Luna asked.
Ears perking, Gosling heard giggling from inside. He looked down at Luna and tried to piece everything together. Even when Luna was sleeping, she was working. He blinked and tried to think of something witty to say, feeling that he owed her the best parts of himself.
But no witty words came. Instead, what Gosling said was something very simple. “I would be honoured.” Even as the words were leaving his mouth, the world around him grew larger. The doorway now towered above him, and Luna, who was a filly, now seemed about the same size as he was. The wooden door was huge. The tall grass now tickled his belly and his neck.
“Come, Gosling, and be on your best behaviour. We have to set an example. What we show these foals now will stay with them as they grow into adults. So be the good pony that my sister and I know you to be.”
Nodding, Gosling stepped through the door and felt Luna brush up beside him. He stuck out his head and nuzzled Luna’s neck with his muzzle. He felt her pull away and he heard her giggling.
“Ew, he touched you and now you have cooties,” a filly sitting at the table said to Luna.
When Celestia stepped into the small, cosy dining room for breakfast, she was greeted by a strange sight and her ears were treated to the most wonderful sound. Luna was laughing—the great big belly laughs of long ago, back when Luna was still the bearer of the Element of Laughter. Hearing it froze Celestia in place, and she watched as the surreal, but funny moment unfolded.
Gosling was chasing Luna around the dining table, the pair of them moving with an almost geriatric slowness. Luna was limping along on three legs and even with her laughter, her eyes flashed with pain. Gosling moved with a slow, almost regal gait. He wobbled a bit, stumbled, but did not fall as it was Luna who was helping to hold him up. Blueblood and Raven both were reading day planners and schedules, ignoring the merry chase that encircled them.
“Away with thee, thou hast cooties! We hath been informed by an expert in such things!”
“Eh, you’re so getting cooties once I catch you!”
“Away! Away with thee, for thou art a moveable feast for unwelcome lice and mites! Thine ears art a whorse’s hallway for vermin!”
When Luna saw her sister standing in the doorway, she came to a halt, almost lost her balance, and very nearly fell over when Gosling bumped into her from behind, as he was unable to stop in time. The only thing that kept both of them from toppling over was Celestia, who held them as she studied them, trying to figure what was going on.
“Luna… have you regressed into foalhood again? Cooties? Really?” With no effort at all, Celestia lifted both Luna and Gosling into the air, sat them down, and scooted their chairs into the table. “And Gosling, should you be out of bed?”
“Doc says I’m cleared for a bit of walking, it will be good for me,” Gosling replied as Celestia sat herself down between him and Luna. “But I’m stuck eating bland food and I’m supposed to avoid stress for a while. So be gentle with me.”
“You know, Gosling, as far as wedding gifts go, there are better ones than the cooties.” Celestia rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Day in and day out I deal with the plague of cooties in my school. I never understood the fear of cooties.”
Luna, her eyes merry, angled her head so that she might look up at her sister. A wide, somewhat sleepy looking grin was upon her face. She rested her front hooves upon the edge of the table, tapping one of them with a light touch, and the sound made Blueblood glance at her with a raised eyebrow.
Ignoring her sister, Celestia focused her gaze upon Gosling and her expression became one of utmost seriousness. “Gosling… we need to have a little discussion. Nothing stressful, mind you, but what is this I hear about you not wanting magical healing?”
Across the table, Raven put down her day planner and focused upon Gosling.
Licking his lips, put on the spot, Gosling stared down at his plate, which had no food yet. One ear twitched and after a moment, he looked up at Celestia. “Is magical healing available for everypony?”
Eyes narrowing, Celestia realised that a contest of wills was in order. “Gosling, the gift of magical healing is a rare one indeed. It exists, but those who can perform it are few and far in between. Equestria is filled with millions and millions of ponies. It is a physical impossibility for everypony to get magical healing.”
“But, because of my position, I can get it, am I hearing this right?” Gosling’s ears drooped down to the sides of his head and he took on a very submissive pose. “Because I’m going to be the future consort, I can get something that other ponies can’t.”
“Gosling, think of it this way,” Blueblood said, “much is expected of you. You need to be in peak physical condition to do your job and what is expected of you. This isn’t abusing the system, this is using the system to help yourself so you can continue to help others.”
“And that’s fine and all, but what about some poor, sick, single mom that has a house full of foals depending on her and she gets sick? Much is expected of her as well.” Gosling’s voice grew raspy and a faint wheeze could be heard within his barrel. “What help does she get?”
Raven let out a snort and grinned, but before she could say anything, she was cut off by Celestia, who said, “Don’t you dare encourage this, Raven! So help me, you stay out of this!” Admonished, the little mare slumped down in her seat and gave Celestia a petulant stare. It was upon her apprentice’s withers to defeat the commanding alicorn in a battle of wits.
“Gosling, it is physically impossible for everypony to have access to this resource. We use it strategically—when disease and contagion break out, we dispatch known healers to deal with it and contain the plague. The magic itself is very taxing and the healers take a long time to recover. There just are not enough of them to go around for everypony—”
“But by merit of who I am, it can be secured for me.” Gosling glanced over at Raven, who he knew had his back, and then saying nothing, he sat and looked disgusted. Reaching up with a foreleg, he began to rub his ear while flexing his lower jaw and making funny faces.
“Think of it as a reward for all of the hard work you will be doing. Gosling, you know how rough this life will be. This isn’t some cushy life of doing nothing and lounging about the castle. In time, you will feel as though you’ve earned this.” Blueblood’s brows furrowed and he glanced over at his aunt, then back at Gosling.
“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Gosling said, his accent thickening a bit. “I just had a tea party with some little filly that is probably going to die from cancer and she can’t be healed but my messed up ears have become a national priority.”
“A balance has to be struck,” Luna said in a low voice, her smile gone. “A very difficult balance. If we removed all disease, if we removed all danger, if we battled against death, we would soon be overrun. Our population would grow at a rate that we could not support. As it is, our nation strains against the resources available and there is not enough to go around.”
“This is what we do, Gosling,” Celestia said in a soft voice. “We make the hard choices and decisions. This is our job. In time, you will see how tricky it is to balance the scales. But it is important for you to not be prideful… it will hold you back from serving others.” As Celestia spoke, she could not help but feel just a teensy weensy bit hypocritical as she thought about some of her own actions.
Heaving an exasperated sigh, Gosling turned his head and looked at Celestia. “Cadance said there was another way. She said that not everypony does big showy heroics. Some serve, and with service, there comes rewards. She said that Blueblood will likely become an alicorn someday for his civil service.”
Celestia’s eyes turned towards Blueblood as she tried to think about what to say. Blueblood had earned his title of prince for his tireless efforts and service to the Empire. Elevating him to an alicorn had never even been discussed. Celestia realised that Cadance was still playing a most dangerous game, and Cadance had full control over the board.
“She said that not everypony is cut out to be like her and Twilight Sparkle, but that doesn’t mean that somepony can’t have big dreams. She said that faithful service can be rewarded and that anypony, in theory, could be elevated to alicorn status. She said that it was important to show the nation that any pony could attain this dream with enough hard work. If we show that it is possible, then more ponies will strive towards something greater.”
Blinking her eyes, Celestia realised that she was no longer in control of the game. Not at all. At some point, Cadance had kicked up the stakes. Celestia had never even considered allowing Blueblood to ascend and gain wings. Not everypony was cut out to do battle with ponies like Prismia or figure out where Star Swirl had made a mistake. Celestia’s mouth went dry.
“Ascension rebirths the body and makes it new,” Raven said in a low voice. “I don’t even pretend to understand it, but I do know that Twilight had earth pony and pegasus parts grafted into her.”
Feeling somewhat panicked because she had been outmaneuvered, Celestia wondered if Cadance was still here in Canterlot. A talk needed to be had. A long talk. A long, calm, reasonable chat, done over tea, with the hopes that Cadance would explain the dangerous new game she was playing… and perhaps Cadance would explain the new rules that she had added.
“I never thought of ascension for myself,” Blueblood said to Raven in a low whisper.
“Just wondering, how did Blueblood earn his title of prince?” Gosling asked.
“You’ll be getting yours through marriage,” Blueblood replied, “which can be a valuable service on its own. Somepony needs to look after Auntie’s needs. Her loneliness has become a grave concern.”
“That isn’t an answer,” Raven said to Blueblood. She turned her gaze upon Gosling and she blinked. She sat silent for a moment, thinking, with deep creases in her brow. “Blueblood prevented a trade war which would have likely turned into an actual war. There was a dispute over resources between Maretonia and Saddle Arabia. It grew very tense, with each country piling up troops along their borders. Each nation felt cheated by the other.”
“It became a very tense situation.” Celestia looked over at her nephew and then allowed Raven to continue.
“Blueblood, still a colt at this time, about your age, or thereabouts, Gosling, went and sought audience with both nations. With careful words, he pulled them both back from the brink, promised that Equestria would act as a neutral third party mediator in future trade agreements, and he hammered out a trade and mutual assistance pact that both nations thought were generous and fair. With a few strokes of a pen, Blueblood saved hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of lives.” Raven looked over at Blueblood and smiled. “Celestia’s student came home in triumph and was given the title of Prince, along with a large holding of land.”
Thoughtful, Celestia asked herself, Why should Blueblood’s accomplishments mean any less than Cadance’s or Twilight Sparkle’s? A growing heaviness settled upon her heart. Surely not every pony was meant to achieve greatness through battling foul sorceresses and feats of impossible magic. She gave a sidelong glance to Gosling, who, even in his weakened condition, had conducted statecraft from his bed. Gosling was dedicated to his future.
She felt her ears droop.
“Art thou troubled, dear sister?” Luna asked.
“It’s nothing,” Celestia replied, shaking her head. A thought crossed through Celestia’s mind that gave her pause; Cadance was far more rooted in modern thinking. Celestia had a moment of clarity. Long ago, the big threats were monsters and out of control magic. Celestia still saw them as the big threats. But trade disputes, the economy, all of the modern problems that plagued a nation as large as Equestria… those who did battle with the unseen monsters, why should they be treated any different than those who did battle with the monsters that one could see?
What dragons might Gosling slay if given the chance? What great evil might he deal with if properly prepared? Was not social injustice a form of evil? She glanced over at Blueblood, her mind racing, and she understood just how much she took her nephew for granted. Blueblood loathed Skyfire, but was working to save her. He was working to save the life of a filly that he couldn’t stand, a filly that repulsed him, a filly that he hated. That was dedication. Blueblood’s desire to see justice done took priority over his own feelings.
With all of this lurking in her mind, Celestia began to feel very insecure and out of sorts. It was going to be one of those sorts of days. As she sat in her chair, experiencing some self doubt and wondering about her own perceptions and perspectives, the staff arrived with breakfast. Lost in her own thoughts, she looked right through them as they set the table, put out tea, served coffee, and laid out the food.
She didn’t even hear the groan that came from Gosling when a large bowl of cracked wheat mush was set down before him, or Luna’s threat of pinning him down and making him eat it. She didn’t notice Blueblood and Raven’s laughter. She wasn’t even aware when the servers left the room. She stared down at the table, lost in her own thoughts, wondering if perhaps Cadance and Twilight were better suited for modern rule.
“Sister?”
Startled, Celestia felt a hoof poking her in the side. She blinked, turned her head, and looked over at Luna, who appeared to be worried. She saw Luna’s almost luminous teal coloured eyes looking up at her.
“I know what you are thinking,” Luna said in a low, reassuring voice.
“Do you?” Celestia asked.
“You are so obvious at times.” Luna rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Sister, stop for one moment, before you begin brooding, and ask yourself this question.”
“And which question is that?” Celestia’s ears stood up as she waited for her sister’s reply.
“Who was it that trained Cadance, Twilight, and Blueblood to do the great works they have done? You should worry less and trust more in what you do best. Gosling will be a great new project for you. Raise him, elevate him, take him as a student as well as a husband and do what you have always done. Refinement.”
After considering her sister’s words, Celestia nodded, turned her head, and looked at Gosling, who had a bitter look of disappointment upon his face as he stared down into the hopeless grey-brown abyss that was cracked wheat mush. Still nodding her head, her ears bobbing, Celestia decided to take her sister’s advice.
As Celestia cuddled up closer to Gosling, she asked, “Are you comfortable?” She had laid him down on a day bed so he could rest after eating, and the temptation to join him was far too strong to resist. She pulled him closer and pressed her nose into his neck, inhaled, and drew in his scent.
“I’m still sore, but this is nice,” Gosling replied.
“Gosling…” When she said his name, she heard him let out a cough so she waited for a moment before continuing. “Gosling, darling, I said nothing at the breakfast table, but you are being a silly pony in regards to the healing issue.”
“Am I?” Gosling asked. “I don’t see it that way. I see a way to gain public favour as the pony’s prince. Raven says everything can be an asset.”
“But this is holding you back from, well, everything,” Celestia said in a low voice as she continued to neck with Gosling. It was frustrating, being as big as she was, Gosling felt like a foal beside her, and it was a bit difficult to be romantic when your brain kept reminding you that the pony you were cuddling was foal sized.
“But it feels wrong to me,” Gosling said in a wet, wheezing voice.
Frustrated, Celestia did the most equine thing that any pony could do in a moment of pique and frustration with the one she loved. She nipped him on the neck, and not a love nibble, but a quick bite to express displeasure. The equine species had a bite for everything and it was a major part of their unspoken language. Celestia’s bite, loosely translated, said, “You’re a dummy.”
“Ow!” Gosling squirmed as he turned his head around to look at Celestia. Gosling’s ears registered the bite, swiveled around, and in their own unspoken way, replied, “Ow, my neck!” They were too shocked and surprised to say much else.
Batting her eyelashes, Celestia gave Gosling a serene smile as he stared at her and ignored his ears, lest she have to bite them too. She let out a wicker, pushed her snoot against Gosling’s cheek, and rubbed. In the equine language, this snoot on cheek interaction could be translated as, “Dummy though you might be, I still love you.”
“Perhaps we can compromise,” Celestia said as she looked into Gosling’s eyes. She saw him staring back, his eyes were curious and beautiful. She loved him, and longed to gaze into his very soul. “I’ll give you time to recover as much as you can, and then you will return to your duties. This means flying too, Gosling. And if you can somehow perform your duties in your condition, I will allow you to experience your misguided and foolish suffering—”
“But if I can’t do my duties, if I crash into stuff and can’t walk right, I have to get healed?” Gosling blinked a few times and then his ears splayed out sideways.
“That seems fair.” Celestia reveled in the warmth of Gosling’s body against her side and wished she could spend the entire day doing nothing but this. “I will allow you to have your foolish crusade of virtue and steadfastness.”
“Foolish, eh?” Gosling’s voice was low and a bit raspy.
“Yes, I fell in love with an idealistic fool. While he can be a little frustrating at times, I hope he doesn’t change too much.” Before Gosling could reply, Celestia kissed him, pressing her lips into his, and then kneading them against his as she caught him by surprise. She saw his eyes close and when they did, she closed her own, leaned into the kiss, and let herself go.
And as suddenly as the kiss began, it ended. Celestia pulled away, smacked her lips, shook her head, which caused her ears to flop around, and stuck out her tongue. After recovering, she cried, “Blech! Cracked wheat!”
“Eh, yeah, how do you think I feel after eating it? It smells like what I’d imagine wallpaper glue tasting.”
That accent again… Celestia could feel herself heart-farting and she was almost certain that little pink hearts rose from her like bubbles and popped overhead. She felt like a swoony filly and she knew that if she was standing, her knees would wobble. Quite without meaning too, she let out a loud, abrasive, love-drunk giggle that almost sounded like a donkey braying.
Wide eyed, mortified, Celestia sat beside Gosling, trying to figure out what had just gone wrong, and why she had just laughed like a jenny. She saw Gosling blinking, and his mouth opened. Before he had a chance to speak, Celestia cut him off. “Not one word, colt, not one word. I have no idea what just happened. Let us never speak of that again.”
Still mortified, Celestia put on her best ‘serious face’ and gave Gosling a stern look.
“Celestia…”
“Yes?”
“Cadance says I need to confront Skyfire—”
Celestia sighed.
“—and I can’t do it on my own. I’ve figured that out.”
Her expression softening, she looked at Gosling and hoping to comfort him, she pressed her snoot against his in a gesture of trust. “Do you need me there with you? Would it make it easier on you?”
“Yes, yes it would.”
Celestia drew in a deep breath. “You can pardon her, but she isn’t free to go without consequences. Justice should be both just and clever. It is a difficult thing to do, to dispense justice. Consider this your first real test, Gosling. Take time and think everything over. What you do now will cement itself into the minds of the ponies of Equestria and will shape how they view you as a ruler.”
“I have an idea already,” Gosling said to Celestia, his lips brushing up against hers as he spoke. “I’m worried that what I’m planning might be seen as mean spirited… I’m really scared actually… but I wouldn’t do to her what I wouldn’t do to myself.”
Celestia’s lips, which lingered over Gosling’s, puckered up and pressed against his for a moment. After a moment, she pulled away and then said, “That is a good thing. Never dispense a punishment that you yourself would not endure. At least, that is a good guideline. Sometimes though, you must deal out the worst of punishments.”
“It is my hope that she can become a better pony… maybe even a good mother. I want to lift her up, not destroy her. But to fix her, I fear she’ll have to be broken first.” Gosling closed his eyes and shook his head as his ears drooped. “If I give her an opportunity, I hope she will take it.”
“Gosling, I have faith in you,” Celestia whispered, “otherwise, I wouldn’t be taking you as my consort.” As Celestia finished speaking, the door opened. She lifted her head, frustrated at the interruption, and saw Cadance enter. She was surprised to see Cadance, and also a bit miffed that Cadance hadn’t joined them for breakfast.
“Just the ponies I was looking for.”
Celestia felt magic and knew that Cadance was drinking deep of the love that was present. How much like Queen Chrysalis Cadance was, so similar, and yet so different. Cadance grew stronger and stronger in the presence of love of all kinds.
Cadance strode forward, confident, proud looking, and a gentle smile graced her muzzle. She stopped beside the day bed and stood there, looking very much like a pony who was admiring some flowers, or perhaps a beautiful painting.
“The two of you are adorable… look at you… intimacy is good. It bolsters the immune system, builds self esteem, establishes trust, and has even been shown to speed healing.” Cadance drew in a deep breath and let out a satisfied sigh.
“What brings you here, Cadance?” Celestia asked.
“Love is my business, and business is good,” Cadance replied as she began to giggle. She blinked, reached out her wing, and touched Gosling’s neck. “Are you feeling brave, Gosling?”
“Not really, no.” Gosling’s reply was blunt and honest, he minced no words.
“Well, don’t feel bad, Skyfire is scared too.” Cadance’s eyes narrowed. “In a few hours, the two of you are going to meet and have a little talk. It’s time to confront your past, Gosling. You won’t be alone, I’ll be with you every step of the way, just as I promised when we first started this journey together. Do you remember our first meeting?”
Gosling nodded.
“You had just joined the guard and you were still in prep camp. You were brave enough to take advantage of the counseling services offered by the guard. You risked being ridiculed and shamed by your fellow recruits to get some help.”
Celestia’s ears stood up and her eyes narrowed as she listened.
“One very heartbroken and damaged colt sought out some help, realising that he couldn’t face these issues on his own. This colt was brought to my attention after a bit of triage. The diagnosis was pretty grim. He had a bad case of the mopes.”
It took all of Celestia’s willpower not to smile.
“I found a very intelligent, very grown up, wonderful pony who had been hurt.” Cadance lowered her head down to Gosling’s eye level. “Even during our first meeting, I knew that this pony was pretty special. I knew that I had to help him, and I made him a promise.”
Gosling nodded. “You promised me that if I took the journey to recovery, you’d be with me every step of the way.”
“And have I kept this promise?” Cadance asked.
Again, Gosling nodded. “You have.”
“I’m really glad to hear you say that, Gosling, because there is another pony that needs to start a journey and she needs to know that I will be with her every step of the way once she starts down the road to recovery.” Cadance’s eyes darted over to Celestia.
At that moment, Celestia knew that she was trapped. She both loved and detested Cadance. The pretty pink primadonna was just a little too good at her job and Celestia was realising more and more that Cadance had been plotting against her for quite some time.
“You’ve been grooming Gosling to be with me from the very first meeting, haven’t you?” Celestia asked.
“Well, not quite the first meeting—”
“What?” Gosling asked.
“I had gut feelings, hunches, the subtle tug of destiny, but I had a pretty good feeling about him,” Cadance admitted to her aunt. “It was you I was worried about, you stubborn old nag.”
“Cadance!”
“I’m confused!” Gosling’s cry was raspy and weak sounding.
“Welcome to the royal family Gosling, where there is much plotting against one another,” Celestia said to Gosling as she attempted to stare down her niece. “Shining Armor helped you, didn’t he?”
“Of course he did,” Cadance replied.
“Oh, that’s just not fair,” Celestia moaned.
“Tough titty said the kitty but the milk is alright.” Cadance’s eyes narrowed as she said the vulgar rhyme.
“What?” Gosling blinked as he tried to figure out what was going on.
“I practically raised Shining Armor! When he was little he used to stand guard over Twilight and I as I gave her lessons… I gave him cookies, and candy, and books about war… he was supposed to be loyal to me.” Celestia rolled her eyes in exasperation and then let out a frustrated unladylike grunt.
“And I too, gave him cookies, and candy, and books about war… with pictures of me slipped between the pages. When we were older, the cookies were replaced with something that rhymes with cookie. Shining Armor willingly planted his flag in my camp. I made him mine. I bewitched him with my cotton candy backside.” Cadance flicked her tail from side to side and then laughed.
Celestia’s mouth fell open as she realised the depths of Cadance’s betrayal.
“I don’t understand what is going on,” Gosling said as his eyes darted from one mare to another. “I’m very lost and confused right now. Take pity on the sick pegasus.”
“Gosling, darling, hush now and just accept that you are out of your league,” Cadance said in a sweet voice. “It’s all in good fun. This is how we keep one another on our hooves, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Someday soon, you’ll take part in the game.”
“Duh… okay?” Gosling, still confused, fell silent and made a derp face.
“Get some rest, Gosling. Maybe even get a little sleep if you can. You have a meeting with Skyfire today, if you think you can handle it.” Cadance leaned down her head, extended her neck, and kissed her aunt on the cheek.
“I’m willing to try.”
“Wonderful!” Cadance beamed. “Auntie, if I could speak to you in private, that would be great. Not right at the moment, but soon. Maybe you could stay with Gosling until he drifts off to sleep?”
“Okay.” Celestia nodded her head in acceptance and eyeballed her niece. She wondered what Cadance was up to and what treachery awaited her. Already, she was plotting on the various ways that she could make Gosling loyal. Celestia was an old mare that had once been a fertility goddess, and she knew things. Exciting things. Things she would have to introduce Gosling to. Things that would make Gosling worship her and keep him loyal.
Celestia was determined to take control of the board back from Cadance.
Like two majestic swans, Celestia and Gosling lay together, side by side, both on their stomachs with their legs folded up beneath them. Both had their eyes closed, and Gosling was resting his head against Celestia’s neck. Both of them looked serene, regal even, and would have made for a perfect painting.
Celestia’s ears perked up straight, revealing wakefulness, and she felt a powerful need. A dreadful, powerful need. Alicorn though she might be, she was still a mare first and foremost, and she had needs. Her body had demands. Like any other member of the equine species, she had a digestive system based upon powerful fermentation. Her ears twitched as she had a silent, internal debate about what to do. She had no way of knowing the nature of the lurking dragon.
Was it speciest to refer to this as a dragon? What a thought. What a terrible thought.
A test was in order. Celestia decided to send a scout out into the wild to determine the nature of the beast. She didn’t move, not wishing to disturb Gosling, and with her eyes still closed and with a perfect look of serenity upon her face, she released her scout and waited.
After a few seconds, she checked in upon her scout with a faint, imperceptible sniff. Everything seemed fine. It wasn’t bad at all. It was light, airy, little more than harmless fluff. It was like a pegasus napping upon a cloud. Something gentle, beautiful even. She had called the dragon’s bluff.
With a majestic smile, Celestia let it go… oh yes, she let it go.
At first, there was nothing, nothing at all, and Celestia was relieved. But then, something went wrong. The pegasus napping on the cloud was replaced by a boisterous earth pony, an earth pony who had eaten a fine lunch of boiled cabbage, beans, and vegetable pasties, then washed everything down with beer. A stocky, boisterous earth pony with a terrible Manehattanite cheer, announcing that he was indeed, ‘walkin’ here!’ as he honked for the right of way in traffic. Celestia’s ethereal tail rippled as the trade winds took it, shook it, and the dreadful southern wind whipped up a maelstrom in her auroral projection.
Oh, this was awful, her inner thoughts were so tribalist. For shame…
The majestic alicorn’s eyes opened as the earth pony became a unicorn summoning an eldritch horror from far below the southern ice cap. The entire bed shook as if it was possessed. A look of alarm spread over Celestia’s face as the dragon revealed his true nature. The sound was like one of Charon’s horn blasts announcing the departure across the Styx, a sound that could quite literally move the dead. Beside her, Gosling’s eyes opened wide and he looked up at her with a sidelong glance.
The unicorn became an alicorn that had gone wrong in the worst possible way, something so bad that it could only be left to the imagination. There was nothing that Celestia could do but just ride it out and hope for the best.
And as suddenly as it had begun, it was over, leaving two shell shocked ponies laying in bed together. Looking down, Celestia could see Gosling’s face. He looked properly intimidated. She felt her mouth go dry. This was the sort of incident that could wreck a marriage, or prevent one from happening. She saw him blinking, trying to compose himself, and she blinked back, it was as if their eyelids had some secret semaphore communication between them, perhaps brokering some agreement to avoid chemical warfare at all costs in the future, having seen the horrors of modern war.
“Eh, you and my Ma need to go on a spree… fuggedaboutit.” Having made his feelings known, Gosling closed his eyes and settled back in for sleep.
Beside him, Celestia grinned, closed her eyes, and began to daydream of adorable little muggers with precious inner city accents. She loved him, and he loved her. Love made all things possible and could bear all things.
Celestia knew that Cadance would agree.
When Gosling awoke, he could feel that noon was still a few hours away. The back of his throat burned with a raging fire. He blinked and looked around. He had slept for several hours. He had vague memories of dreaming, something about Luna and facing his fears. On the small table beside the bed, he saw a paper dispensary cup with a few pills in it and a plastic cup with water in it. There was also a brown glass bottle with the chalky stuff he had to drink. Seeing it made him shudder.
With care, he moved on the bed, wincing, the painkillers had worn off and his stomach muscles were killing him. His body was still recovering from the dry heaves and his sickness. As he moved, he felt a spike of nausea go through his head. The medication would help. He was alone, which meant that he needed to get himself out of the bed without falling on his face. He had the feeling that Celestia was already testing him, or preparing him for the test to come. He was determined to stick it out. He didn’t feel right being healed when so many others suffered worse. Or, maybe, Celestia was right and he was a silly pony. There was that distinct possibility.
He was on his own. He slid out of bed, landed on his front legs, braced himself, and then steadied himself as he allowed his back half to slip off of the mattress. He kept his hind legs underneath him somehow, and once he was standing, he stretched out his wings. So long as he moved slow, the nausea was manageable. Using his dextrous primaries, he picked up the paper dispensary cup, tossed the dozen or so pills into his mouth, and then took a drink of water so he could swallow them all. He saved half of his glass of water and put it down.
Lifting the brown glass bottle, he yanked out the cork with his teeth, spat the cork out onto the table, grabbed the neck of the bottle with his lips, and began to chug the foul, chalky liquid down. Somepony had added cherry flavouring to this batch and it wasn’t quite so bad as the plain chalky flavoured stuff. He gagged as he drank it, and for a moment, he wasn’t certain that he was going to get down the full quart of medicine. His eyes crossed and he went for broke.
Snorting with disgust and triumph, Gosling put the brown glass bottle back down upon the table. Somepony would be along to collect it. He could now feel the liquid sloshing in his stomach. Already, the burning sensation in the back of his throat was cooling off. He drank the rest of his water, set down the plastic cup, and stepped away from the table.
He stretched out his wings again, gave them a flap, and then tried to make his ears pop. He yawned and flexed his jaw, wiggling and waggling it around, all while making very silly faces. The first few pops of his ears brought relief, but then one happened that almost dropped him to the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold back his tears, whimpered, and could taste something bitter draining down the back of this throat, something he still suspected was ear wax. He wobbled, but remained upright.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes again. The door was about twenty feet away. For some reason, it felt like a much longer distance than it used to. He gritted his teeth together, gave himself a bit of a shake, and then, not content to simply look regal as he made his slow march to the door, Gosling strutted. A slow peacock strut.
So long as he kept up his slow strut, Gosling knew he would be fine.
Passing the guards, Gosling eyed them with suspicion. He didn’t know who he felt he trusted anymore. He thought about his punishment that he had coming for threatening Sergeant Shamrock. A serious failure of protocols had happened. He knew that he could be tossed out of the guard for what he had done, and the thought concerned him. In light of everything that had happened, Gosling had discovered that he loved his service. He liked being in the guard. He intended to stay. He was going to go back to school and he was going to become an officer. Gosling saw how he wanted his life to be.
He moved with a fluid, regal grace, looking very much the part of the royal consort. He strutted, he was handsome and he knew it. Gosling allowed himself a little vanity as a vice, as he didn’t do things that other ponies his age did. He didn’t smoke, he had tried that once a while back and his mother had almost killed him. He didn’t drink much either. He didn’t go around chasing fillies, trying to bed them and add another notch to his bedpost.
Everypony needed a vice, an indulgence, and Gosling chose to look pretty. With his black-grey gradient pelt and silvery mane and tail, he knew that he was a head turner. He was well groomed, his feathers were kept in order, and everything about him was just so. He kept his mane and his tail a little on the longer side, but within regulations. Sergeant Circinus called him a wild maned hippie, but there was nothing the sergeant could do so long as Gosling kept it within regulations.
He yawned without looking like he was yanking, sucking in wind and trying to get his ears to pop. So long as he kept the pressure let off, he was fine. He took a slow turn and headed down the hall, not sure where he should be, knowing that he had to be somewhere. He headed for Raven’s office as he had no idea where Celestia and Cadance might be.
“Heya,” Raven said as she stepped out of her office. She stopped when she saw Gosling approaching, stood in place for a moment as if she wasn’t sure of what to do, and then rushed forwards towards Gosling. “You have got to get better. The pony they sent to operate the telegraph bench is a total boob and he can’t even remember a simple cipher. He has to keep looking at the reference sheet. Gosling, I can’t deal with incompetence. I’m about to tear out my mane.”
“I’m sorry,” Gosling said to Raven as he came to a halt and looked down at her.
“Gosling, I need you… you need to take care of yourself so you can get better… plus, it is getting time to send a dispatch north. I’d like for it to be you that is the courier. It’s just a little train ride, nothing strenuous. I wouldn’t trust my current help to find his own ass with a mirror and a ten million candlepower spotlight.”
“That bad, huh?” Gosling’s eyebrows arched.
“I don’t have time to hold his hoof and teach him every little detail involved in being my assistant.” Raven let out a sigh. “He’s not that bad, I mean, he’s not stupid, he did make it into the signal corps, but he’s not you.”
“Thanks, Raven, you know how to make a pony feel valuable.” Gosling smiled at the unicorn mare. “I want to come back to work. I like working.”
“And that’s something else. This guy keeps asking for a break so he can go smoke. Ugh!” Raven stood in place and began stomping all four of her hooves. “I swear, I am going to have him catapulted off of the Canterhorn.”
“We wage a quiet war against incompetence. There is naught that we can do but be patient.” Gosling lifted his head high and a faint grin remained on his muzzle. “When I come back to work, I want you to teach me your secrets for micromanagement.”
“There’s going to be a blackjack game later tonight. You should join us. Normally, we play poker, but Luna is fixated on blackjack, so we humour her. Time to work on those tells of yours.” Raven blinked and adjusted her glasses. “No ear tugging, of course. I’ll just slap you upside your head, instead.”
“That’d be great. I’ll be there if I can,” Gosling said. “I need to find Celestia and Cadance so I can figure out what is going on. I don’t know if somepony was supposed to come to the room and fetch me, or if I am supposed to find them, nopony made that clear.”
“Take a seat dear, and I’ll see what I can do,” Raven replied as she gave Gosling an affectionate smile. She gestured over at a nearby bench. “Really, have a seat. You’re trembling a bit. Did you just take your medication?”
“Yeah.” Gosling nodded and then made his way to the bench and Raven moved beside him, her horn glowing. He felt a little annoyed, he felt as though he was being coddled, but he knew that Raven meant well and was worried for him.
He sat down and was glad that he did. It was only after he had sat down that he realised that he had been straining to stand up. He heaved a sigh and tried to relax. A wave of dizziness washed over him as Raven vanished back into her office. He hoped that he would be up for a card game tonight. It was good having friends, it was good to learn how to be a better player of the game, and it would be good to spend a little more time with Luna, who still mystified him.
“Gosling?”
Ears perking, Gosling turned and looked at Sergeant Circinus. He couldn’t stand up, he was feeling far too dizzy at the moment, but he did manage to extend one wing in a salute as his sergeant approached.
“Private Gosling, how are you feeling?” Circinus asked.
“I’ve been better, but I’m managing,” Gosling replied.
The sergeant stood before Gosling, studying him, nodding his head, and squinting. He shifted from side to side and his face was pinched with worry. He opened up his mouth to speak, but then remained silent. He did this several more times until Gosling said something.
“What?” Gosling asked.
“I have news about your disciplinary action,” Circinus said to Gosling, “but I don’t want to worry you. There’s good news and bad news. All in all, it’s not too bad, but I’m worried you’ll be upset.”
“Eh, just lay it on me,” Gosling said as his ears drooped.
Circinus stood at attention. “You threatened Sergeant Shamrock. There is going to be a disciplinary hearing, but this you already know. I know the outcome. They plan to kick you out of the guard—”
“What?” Gosling demanded.
“Wait a moment and hear me out, it’ll make this easier,” Circinus said to Gosling. He took a deep breath, then continued, “You’re getting a black patch for your doublet. You’re still in the signal corps, but you are being transferred to the night patrol. You are going to be drummed out of the solar guard. Other than a change of patches, nothing else is going to happen, as far as I know.”
Gosling let out a sigh of relief. That wasn’t bad at all. He didn’t mind having a black patch for his doublet. He could live with that. His lips pressed into a straight line and he looked at his sergeant. The night guard had a higher pay scale anyway.
“Ex Ignis Amicitiae!” Sergeant Circinus said as he whipped out his wing in salute. “Keep the fire going in the darkness, Private Gosling.”
Gosling returned the salute, but before he could say anything, Sergeant Circinus departed and hurried away. He sat on the bench, stunned, relieved, and rather happy about the outcome. This wasn’t bad at all. This wasn’t a punishment to feel bad about. He had brothers in the night patrol already and certainly Luna would be pleased about this. He suspected that Celestia would be as well.
No more golden armor. Gosling sighed. The golden armor made him look sexy.
Walking between Cadance and Celestia, Gosling realised that Cadance was keeping her promise. She was going with him every step of the way. He felt a little rough, already the stress of the coming meeting was wearing on him, but he was determined to go through with this. He felt sweat rolling down his neck and a chilly, cramped feeling settled in his guts.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Celestia asked.
“Yeah,” Gosling replied in a croaking voice, “I gots dis.”
“Remember, Gosling, she is just as scared as you are.” Cadance’s words were gentle, soft, and soothing. “Do you remember when we talked about empathy?”
“Yes I do.” Gosling nodded.
“I want you to keep everything you learned in mind.” A hint of stern command entered into Cadance’s voice. “Be tough but fair, Gosling. Do not back down from your position. Be commanding, but gentle. Be the good pony that I know that you can be. You’ve already shown me what you are capable of.”
More sweat trickled down Gosling’s neck as they approached the door. He came to a stop and felt like throwing up. He closed his eyes for a moment, and he heard the door opening. There was a soft rustle of feathers as he opened his eyes.
He took a step forward, looked into the room, and that was when he saw her. Skyfire sat in a chair, looking distraught and weeping. Gosling swallowed and wondered what he ever saw in her. She didn’t look pregnant, but then again, she had always been on the somewhat chubby side, she was a filly that jiggled in all the right places and she carried her chubbiness well. He felt his breath catch in his throat and a nausea made his mouth alternate between wet and dry.
“Gosling… I’m sorry!”
Moving with slow, deliberate steps, Gosling entered the room, determined to face his past.
Even though the chair he was sitting in was one of the most exquisite pieces of furniture that Gosling had ever seen in his life, he could not get comfortable no matter how hard he tried. Everything felt hard, lumpy, and misshapen. He felt a dull headache settling in and thudding against the base of his skull. He reached up and massaged his right temple with his folded fetlock hoping to ease the pressure in his skull.
His eyes darted to the left and he saw snatches of pink and white in his vision. Cadance and Celestia were sprawled out on a couch together, a massive, overstuffed couch that was big enough for Celestia to spread out and get comfortable on. Alicorns required much larger, much sturdier furniture. While having them both nearby helped, Gosling found that he wanted his mother. The thought made his mouth go dry.
Sitting in her chair, Skyfire looked fearful, terrified even. Her eyes were glassy from heavy sedation. Her feathers were ruffled, mussed, and she hadn’t preened in quite some time. Her mane was matted and clumped from sweat.
“Skyfire, I want to help you,” Gosling began, opening up the conversation with some hopeful words, “but my help comes with a price. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is. I’m only helping you because it is the right thing to do, not because I have any feelings for you. The only feelings I have left for you are disgust and loathing.” His voice cracked a few times and grew raspy as he spoke.
Skyfire recoiled as if she had been struck, she flinched, her ears drooped, and she turned her eyes away from Gosling, unable to bear his stern gaze. When she spoke, her voice was a shrill whine. “So much for what we had together—”
“I will not be manipulated again,” Gosling said in a low, wet, bubbling growl as he cut Skyfire off. “We never had anything… I see that now. I’ve come around and saw reality.”
“How can you say that?” Skyfire asked.
“Easy,” Gosling replied, “you made it so easy for me to say it.” His eyes narrowed and his ears pitched forwards in an aggressive manner. “For the longest time, you were the most amazing filly I knew… everypony wanted to be with you. In school, you were that girl. The girl. And you kept me parked right in the friend zone for the longest time, but I had high hopes.” He paused and swallowed, expecting to taste acid, but it seemed that his medication was working. He lifted his hoof and pointed at the filly across from him.
“You kept me as your friend and you dumped all of your troubles on me and I listened, I listened and I hung on every word you said because I had hopes that one day, you would see me as more than just a friend. I had hopes that you would see me for who and what I was, and that you would know that I would treat you good.” Gosling shook his head and lowered his hoof as his lip curled back from his teeth in a snarl.
“And then, then came the happiest day of my life… you noticed me. I thought you finally came to your senses. I was so in love with you… and you… you used that. You knew that you were pregnant even then, and you thought you could get a free ride out of me. You knew me, you knew my values, you knew what sort of pony I was, and you knew that I’d break my fronking back for you to give you a good life.”
“I’m sorry, Gosling,” Skyfire said, shaking her head.
“Not yet you’re not, but you will be.” Gosling’s ears stood up, stayed that way for a moment, and then folded back against his skull as his eyes narrowed even more. “I was just a free ride for you… that’s all I was… you got knocked up, you panicked, and you ran to the only decent colt you knew with the hopes of luring me into bed in a hurry, so you could say this foal you’re having is mine. And then when I turned you down, when I turned you away, the things you said about me. You dragged my name through the mud. You made what few friends I had hate me. The entire school hated me. The harassment got so bad that I had to leave home.”
“I went a little crazy,” Skyfire admitted, still unable to look Gosling in the eye. “I was scared. I panicked. You ruined everything… you were supposed to be the colt that saved me.”
“Well, good news, Skyfire… I’m the colt that is going to save you, but it is going to come at a price. I’ve negotiated for you a pardon, but you are going to have to work for it.” Gosling’s bitter words left behind a thick silence in the air that lingered and grew heavy.
After several long moments that threatened to turn into minutes, Skyfire responded in a timid voice, “Shouldn’t a pardon just be given?”
Lifting his hoof, Gosling covered his mouth, coughed, and then pulled his hoof away. He cleared his throat, which felt a little scratchy. “No. No, see, that’s the problem. You keep looking for a free ride. You want to go through life with no effort at all. No responsibility. You’re about to be a mother, Skyfire. A single mom by the looks of things, because once all of this settles, your name is gonna be mud and nopony in their right mind will want to be with you.” As he watched, tears slipped down Skyfire’s cheek. “A wise pony wouldn’t shtup you with a stolen putz.”
“That’s a little heartless, dontcha think? I mean—”
“Shut up,” Gosling commanded in a disgusted voice. “You don’t get to talk about or make accusations about being heartless, you soulless parasite.” He heard Cadance clearing her throat off to his left and he held back on saying everything that lurked in his mind. He choked back the rest of the angry words that wanted to spill out and tried to find his sense of calm once more. His neck felt hot, the thudding in the back of his skull had grown worse, and he could feel something gnawing in his guts.
Skyfire was openly weeping now and doing nothing to hide it. She asked, “So what do I have to do to earn this pardon?”
Leaning forward in his chair, Gosling’s ears stood up straight as he replied, “You’re going to learn to be responsible. You’re going to get some self worth. You’re going to be straightened out by professionals.” He drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment before finishing what he had to say. “You’re going to join the guard.”
He heard two gasps from off to his left and then he heard Skyfire ask, “WHAT?”
A hard, gritty smile spread over Gosling’s muzzle. “You’re going to join the guard. Just like I did. You’re going to get counseling. You’re going to learn discipline. You’re going to find a sense of self worth. You’re going to learn a trade.”
“I can’t join the guard, I’m about to have a foal!” Skyfire protested.
Gosling’s smile now had teeth. “The guard offers nursery services for single mothers. The guard is actually one of the best places for a single teenage mother like yourself. You’ll get medical care, the foal will have caretakers, and you’ll be earning an honest paycheck.”
“But I don’t know even know if I’ll keep this foal,” Skyfire said as she shook her head at Gosling. She stared at him now, her eyes wide with disbelief as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“If you give the foal up, the cost of its care will be deducted from your wages. One way or another, you are going to be responsible for the life you created. You’ll be paying foal support.” Gosling’s smile vanished and his face became quite stern.
“But I don’t want to join the guard—”
“Do you want to face the consequences for what you have done?” Gosling asked. “Do you want your parents to pay for what you have done?”
The filly sniffled and a shudder went through her body. “Right now, my parents are disinheriting me so they’re no longer legally responsible for me or my actions.”
“All the more reason to join the guard.” Gosling’s voice softened a bit and became a lot less harsh. “Otherwise, all of this will fall upon your back. You have no idea what is about to happen because of all of this.”
“How long do I have to serve?” Skyfire asked.
“Twenty years,” Gosling replied without hesitation.
“Twenty years!” Skyfire’s eyes went wide. “Why so long? Why are you doing this?”
“After twenty years of service, you get a huge benefit package, a chance to retire, and all of your foals that you have get to attend college or university for free.” Gosling sat back in his chair and resettled himself until he was comfortable.
“I can’t do this… I can’t do this… I can’t do this and I can’t be a single mother—”
“Skyfire,” Gosling said in a coarse, hoarse voice, “my mother managed and you can too. I’m trying to make it easier for you, honest, I am. In the guard, you’ll have access to stuff my mother didn’t. You’ll have nursery care. You’ll have housing. They have special barracks just for single moms. You’ll learn a trade—”
“But I don’t want to be a soldier!” Skyfire whined.
“Then do something else. I became a telegraph operator. You could join the civilian corps of engineers. Surveyors. Cartographers. Become a nurse. File a pacifist’s writ and everything you’ll be offered will be non-combat.” As Gosling watched Skyfire, he saw something glimmer in her eyes. Interest. He began to feel a small spark of hope that she would see reason. “It’s rough, Skyfire, but I’m trying to give you the chance you need. When that foal is born, he or she is going to love you, and let’s face it, not many ponies are going to love you after this. But that little foal is going to love you, and it is going to be the most magical thing in your life. Give it a chance. I’m giving you this opportunity to make it work.”
Skyfire’s eyes narrowed and more tears rolled down her cheeks. “No combat?”
“Like I said, file a pacifist’s writ.” Gosling gave the filly sitting across from him an encouraging nod. “Somepony is going to love you and think that you are the greatest pony in the world. And you’re going to be able to give them twenty good years of life. They’ll grow up with housing, food, and if everything goes right, a mother that loves them. You’ll be able to send them to college. You’ll be able to give them a good life. But to get this pardon, to get this opportunity, you’re gonna have to serve.”
“This sounds awful,” Skyfire said in a low voice as she stared at Gosling with fearful, pleading eyes. “Why would you do something so awful to me?”
“Awful?” Gosling rolled his eyes and snorted. “Please. I joined the guard. I’m not doing anything to you that I wouldn’t do to myself.”
“Twenty years is a long time.” Skyfire closed her eyes and let out a whiny, nasal sigh.
“With the sort of fines you are facing and all of the other trouble, you could potentially be spending more than twenty years in a penal colony paying off your debts. They keep the wages low, you see, so ponies have to stay there longer. And you wouldn’t get to keep your foal, either.”
Now blinking, Skyfire looked horrified. She wrapped her wings around her body, giving herself a reassuring self-hug as she began to shiver with fear. She shook her head, not wanting to believe what Gosling had just said.
“Without your parents to absorb the legal blow, you will be held responsible for your actions and everything will fall upon you.” Gosling took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and felt the first hint of real queasiness. He held very still and waited for it to pass.
“Is prep camp hard?” Skyfire asked.
“It’s brutal, especially for pegasi. They expect a lot from us. There’ll be lots of wingups and physical training.” Gosling thought about his own time in prep camp as he stared at Skyfire. “Being a single mom will make it a little easier though. At the end of the day, instead of the common quarters barracks, you’ll get to go and spend the night with your foal. The downside is, the prep camp for single mothers lasts a full month longer to make up for the shorter twelve hour camp days.”
“Twelve hour days? What is regular prep camp like?” Skyfire asked.
Relaxing a little, Gosling felt better that he had her interest. “I had sixteen hour days. Sixteen hours on your hooves, eight hours in your rack. If you’re lucky. Sometimes, the sergeant would decide that we had a surplus of rack time and he’d make us go midnight marching while he screamed in our ears.”
“That’s awful.” Skyfire shook her head. “Why did you do that to yourself?”
“Because, I didn’t know what else to do with myself after dropping out of school because of what you did. I was real messed up. Thought about killing myself. Thought about it a whole lot. Came real close to doing it, too.” Gosling heard a soft, pained gasp from his left and he knew it was Celestia. He felt a stabbing ache in his guts and thought about how she would have found out sooner or later. “When I hit my lowest point, the morning after the longest night in my life, I decided to give my life away because I couldn’t trust myself anymore. I knew that if I didn’t do something to get myself some help, I was going to kill myself. I joined the guard. In the guard, I was able to get the help I needed.” He pointed over at Cadance with his hoof. “I got the counselling I needed to fix all the damage done and get my head screwed on straight after everything that happened.”
“I really am sorry, Gosling.” Skyfire squirmed in her chair.
“Sorry don’t always make it so,” Gosling replied. “I’ll tell you what. You do a year in the guard and then, and only then, you come and you can tell me how sorry you are. We’ll talk. I promise. I give you my good word. Drinks will be on me.”
“As much as I don’t like it, I can see what you are trying to do for me.” Skyfire sucked in a deep breath, held it for as long as she could, then let it out in a slow exhale. “Twenty years… that’s a long time.”
“It is, but you’ll be taken care of, isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that why you planned to con me into marriage? To be taken care of? To have a roof over your head, your meals provided for you, to have everything available? You’re getting that. You’re just going to have to work for it, that’s all. Don’t pass this by, Skyfire. If you turn down my offer, there will be no mercy shown. Your life will be over. You’ll have nothing good to live for.”
There was more throat clearing from Cadance and Gosling had to swallow more of his words. He wanted to drive home the importance of taking this opportunity. He was feeling thirsty and it was getting harder and harder to talk. Maybe it was better to save his words.
“Can I have some time to think about it?” Skyfire asked.
“Not sure what there is to think about, but okay,” Gosling replied. “The decision seems pretty straightforward to me. Say yes, and you’ll have a pretty decent life. At the end of twenty years, you’ll probably have a great life. Say no…” Gosling shrugged and said nothing else.
“I just want some time to think it over. To clear my head.” Skyfire’s gaze dropped down to the floor. “Thank you, Gosling… I don’t deserve this. If it’s okay, I’d like some time alone so I can think.”
“Then I guess we’re done here,” Gosling replied. His ears leaned forwards over his eyes and he gave Skyfire a pleading expression, even though she wasn’t looking at him. “Don’t pass this by, look, I know being a single mom is gonna be tough, but it’s worth it. Spend some time talking to my mother, okay? You can make this work. Just don’t give up.”
There was a faint creak as Cadance got up from where she was sitting and then she walked over as Skyfire stood up and stretched her legs. Saying nothing, Cadance escorted Skyfire out of the room, walking beside her, and slipping out of the door, leaving Celestia and Gosling alone in the room together.
As Gosling tried to sort out everything that had just taken place, Celestia got up and came over to stand beside his chair. He looked up at her and saw tears glimmering in her rose coloured eyes. She trembled, her ears twitched, and then, without warning, she moved with incredible speed.
A wing slapped Gosling across the muzzle and left behind a stinging sensation that made his eyes water. He blinked a few times in confusion, not knowing what had just happened, and he stared up at Celestia in stunned surprise.
“That’s for thinking about killing yourself,” Celestia said in a low voice as she folded her wing against her side. “Shame on you.”
“But… but I…” Gosling stammered, “but… but I hadn’t even met you yet. I didn’t know we would end up together. I was pretty messed up… look, I’m sorry, but you’re being unreasonable!”
“I am a mare that is madly in love with a foolish little colt! I’m allowed to be unreasonable if I feel like it! If you would have acted on that… that… that… selfish impulse, I would be alone… everything we have… everything I have hopes for… everything I want and dream about… and you… you almost took it all away!”
Gosling felt an icicle rammed through his heart when he saw the tears begin to trickle down Celestia’s cheeks. He felt awful and didn’t know what to say. As he sat there, still stunned, his own eyes still watering from the stinging slap, Celestia turned tail and walked out.
Spilling out of his chair, Gosling wobbled on his hooves as he went after her. “Wait!”
Gosling wobbled after Celestia, his head swimming, and he could feel his legs betraying him. He didn’t care. He unfurled his wings, trying to use them for balance, flapping them as he went down the hall after the one he loved. She was making this difficult. Moving far too fast for his current condition, Gosling stumbled.
He saw the floor rushing up to meet his face and he squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for impact when his snoot was scant inches away. The impact never came. He felt the warm tingle of magic all around him. He opened one eye and saw the floor a few inches away. He opened the other eye and found himself being lifted. In moments, he was at Celestia’s eye level. She had tears streaming down her cheeks.
Not knowing what else to do, he extended his neck and bumped his snoot against hers. Touching her, he felt a spark. He stretched out his lips and gave her a peck and then he found himself crushed against her, pressed against her front and her neck.
“I do need help,” Celestia said in a low voice that was more of a sob than anything.
Suspended in the air, Gosling wiggled around until he had his forelegs around Celestia’s neck. He nuzzled her neck in what he hoped was an encouraging way and the big mare sat down upon the floor. He felt his own backside lowered down and with a gentle impact, he was sat down upon the floor with her.
“I need to be taking care of things and here I am crying.” Celestia wrapped a foreleg around Gosling, over his back, and pulled him close. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been so emotional lately… my emotions are so raw and unfiltered. They’re overwhelming… I just sort of kept everything under control and didn’t allow myself to feel much of anything and then you came along and I started feeling things again, I mean really feeling things and now everything is overwhelming!” Celestia snargled, a snorting gargle, sucking in air through her nostrils as she tried to clear snot from her nose, and it made a disgusting sound.
“I’ve been there,” Gosling said, not knowing what else to say.
“You did a good thing, I’m proud of you.” Celestia snargled again, sounding very un-princesslike. “I think something is wrong with me for me to have placed so much of my own happiness into another pony.”
Pressed against his, Celestia’s body was warm, soft yet firm, and her scent permeated his mind, taking over his thoughts. Gosling pressed himself against her, needing her in a way that he didn’t understand, and he rubbed his neck against hers. The friction brought sparks and he felt Celestia warming in his embrace. He didn’t care that she was snotty. His brain screamed at him that this was a warm, willing mare and telegraphed a powerful need to the rest of his body through a series of jerky, twitchy convulsions that pinged through his limbs.
He knew what was happening, but didn’t care. He continued to rub himself against her, breathing her in, all while rubbing her body with his forelegs. He could feel her moving against him, shifting, one of her forelegs wrapped around him, the other bracing her bulk against the floor.
Almost high on sensation, Gosling allowed himself to go right to the very edge, the very brink, and then he lingered there. He nibbled on Celestia’s neck, just below her jaw, giving her little nibble-nips with his square, flat teeth. He felt her shudder against him, her breathing grew heavy, and the first hints of mare musk filled the air. Feathers ruffled as her wings unfurled and then flapped, their movements caused and controlled by Gosling’s nibble-nipping.
“If this keeps up, we’ll end up going at it on the floor,” Celestia whispered in a breathless voice. She drew in a deep, shivery breath. “I could lay on my back and have you on top of me… it makes the size difference a little easier to deal with, but some ponies think it is strange.”
It was difficult to listen; all Gosling could hear was the velvety rustling of his pelt and Celestia’s rubbing together, the delightful sounds of friction, the faint crackle of static that happened when two pegasi collided in all the right ways. His head was swimming, but he wasn’t sure of the cause. Nausea? Desire? Lust? Did it matter? He only heard a few of Celestia’s words and the most primal part of his mind gave it some real consideration. It wouldn’t be too hard to push her over, she was willing after all, and then take her in conquest.
Faced with the prospect of betraying his own values, Gosling’s inner voices manifested in the form of two tiny alicorns flying around his head, one white, one blue, circling as he continued to kiss and nibble. He could feel parts of him engorging with blood, which dulled his other senses and made his brain burn with a fever born of desire.
“You know you want to,” Tiny Luna said in a shrill voice.
“It would be wrong,” Tiny Celestia said as she shot her tinier sibling a look of disapproval. “Do the right thing, Gosling! Pull back! Remember what the right thing is! You’ve dedicated your life to it! Don’t blow everything now!”
Letting out a moan, Celestia’s hips bucked with need and she crushed Gosling to her. His own sense of need was becoming overwhelming. He pressed his snoot into the crook of her jaw, inhaled, and felt his own hips quiver as the need to mount became almost unbearable.
“Thou wouldst be a fool not to hit that!” Tiny Luna cried.
“She’s right, Gosling, Big Me is making that come mount me face… just shove her over and give her what she wants!” Tiny Celestia let out a hoot and a cheer. “I’m getting laid! If you’re worried about foals, just pull out and put your seed in the fallow field, if you know what I mean, and I think you do!” Tiny Celestia, a pervert, waggled her eyebrows and winked in a knowing fashion.
“Ooh, Sister, thou art a pervert… donkey style… really? Right in the a—”
There was a flash of pink that silenced Tiny Luna and a third alicorn appeared. “Begone, both of you!” Tiny Cadance had a scolding tone and she waved her hooves around at the two sisters. “Gosling, your entire sense of character is based upon your values! Do not betray yourself during this moment of temptation!”
With a grunt, Gosling pulled away and the three alicorns circling around his head vanished. He blinked, let out a needy moan, and then shook his head, trying to clear it. He wondered what was in those pills he was taking. He felt Celestia squeezing him, trying to pull him closer.
“I need a cold shower,” Gosling said, his words a pained groan. There was a fiery ache in his groin that needed cooling.
“And I think I need a colt shower,” Celestia added, her words breathy, “I need it to rain... in my dusty furrow… the fertile earth needs seed...”
“What?” Gosling asked, not certain what he had just heard. The sound in his ears was like a rushing, roaring river flowing.
“Oh, nothing,” Celestia replied in a breathless, heaving voice. “About that cold shower… let’s go take care of that. I’ll help you.”
“Gosling…” Celestia stepped out of the bathroom and into her chambers. She saw Gosling on her bed, preening his wings, and she felt her heart leap up into her throat. For a second, she thought that she might have to turn back around and get back into the shower. She watched him and saw that he was a little self conscious about the act still. They had preened one another a bit, shared a bed, but Gosling still had his moments were he was shy, for whatever reason. He was a creature of contradictions. He had preened himself in public after all. Perhaps he was just reacting to her. She felt a moist warmth blossoming through her nethers. She watched as he smoothed out a long silvery grey primary. The oily sheen of his saliva left behind a glistening rainbow when the light hit it just right. It would dry in time and the effect would be gone. Regular ponies seldom saw the hidden rainbows in pegasus wings.
“Gosling, darling, I’m very proud of you and what you did,” Celestia said as she struggled to compose herself. She cleared her throat and enjoyed the delightful cooling sensation of the moisture left in her pelt evapourating. “You thought of the foal and its needs.”
“It didn’t feel right to punish the foal for the sake of trying to punish its mother,” Gosling replied as he paused in his preening efforts for a moment. He shook his wing and examined his feathers. “It’s innocent. I tried to keep that in mind. It has done no wrong.” Shaking his head, he returned to his efforts to keep his wings perfect and pretty.
“You’re trying to keep them together.” Celestia approached her bed, moving with calm, slow deliberation, her head high. She was still struggling to regain her senses. Parts of her still burned like a desert needing rain. “Might I ask why?”
After tugging a bit on a feather and then smoothing it out, Gosling lifted his head so he could reply. He looked Celestia in the eye, blinked, his right ear twitched, and the corner of his mouth tugged downwards. “I really hate her after what she did to me. I didn’t do this for her. But that foal…” he paused, shook his head, drew in a deep breath, then continued, “that foal might straighten her out. I keep thinking about my Ma. My Ma gave up everything because she loved me and I loved her. You know, I never met my grandparents. When my Ma ended up pregnant out of wedlock, they disowned her. She doesn’t talk about it much.”
“Ponies can have some very strict traditions.” Celestia eased herself down onto her bed beside Gosling, but gave him enough room to keep preening. “I would imagine that it was hard on her.”
“My Ma said it from her own mouth… I was her only friend for the longest time. The only ears that listened to her and her troubles.” Gosling’s eyelids sank halfway down over his eyes and his gaze became unfocused. He started to say something, but remained silent. He went back to preening his wings.
“She had to drop out of school. I remember you saying that on our date. While we were blindfolded.” Celestia sucked in a deep breath and her sides expanded like bellows. The deep breath only stoked her own inner fires. She thought about pouncing Gosling and just taking him. The thought loomed large in the back of her mind. “Your mother had to drop out of school and then take whatever jobs she could just to take care of you.”
Gosling nodded and made a grunt.
“So, the way I see it, you learned from that, and you’re trying to make certain that Skyfire has it a little easier. She’ll have food and shelter.” Celestia’s brows furrowed as she felt a tightness in her loins. “She’ll learn a trade. Potentially, she’ll be able to go back to school herself. You’re using the guard as a social safety net.”
Pulling his mouth away from a feather, Gosling left behind a long ribbon of drool that stretched from his lower lip to his primary. “The guard is a social safety net. I mean, I thought that’s why it was set up the way that it is. The guard encompasses every major career available, from logistics and transportation, to mercantile, to telegraph operation. I thought it was intended to be that way.”
“It became that way,” Celestia replied, “but that wasn’t the intention. Seeing it the way you do though, it does certainly seem that it turned out that way. Perhaps it is time to raise more awareness about what the guard has to offer to ponies… that it is more than just protecting the castle.” Celestia was struck with a powerful idea. “Gosling, you and Seville… your friend… there is something I want from you.”
“Whassat?” Gosling asked as the ribbon of drool broke and little glittering droplets fell.
“I want you to sell the public on your image of how you see the guard. A place that you ran to so that you could find help. Tell them how you found yourself. Talk about the jobs available, the rewards of service, tell the public that it is a lot more than just being a soldier.”
“Well, I did ask for ponies to consider serving their country.” Gosling blinked a few times, thinking about Celestia’s words, and he nodded his head in a careful way, trying not to make himself dizzy. “When Skyfire is formally pardoned, if she accepts, I’ll get Seville and we’ll write out all of the relevant details about her pardon. Why I did it. Why single mothers should join the guard, and confused, messed up teenagers, and ponies that don’t know what to do with their lives. School drop outs that need direction—”
“We could experience a renaissance in the guard.” A hopeful smile spread over Celestia’s muzzle. She thought of the good that could be done if this worked out. “Ponies need to be reminded that the guard is more than rank and file soldiery.”
After nodding again, Gosling went back to preening his feathers while Celestia drew in a deep breath. As he preened, his eyes darted from his wing and then to the alicorn beside him, dividing his attention.
“Skyfire’s pardon could be used for the good of Equestria.” Celestia’s voice was faint, hopeful, and triumphant. “It might give ponies hope in the good that we are capable of. We could use this to give the guard a bit of an image makeover.”
There was a wet slurp as Gosling dragged his lips over an unruly feather.
“And no doubt, Cadance will use this opportunity to grow her army of therapists, counselors, and social workers—”
“We could create an entire wing of the guard dedicated to social services,” Gosling said as he jerked his head away from the feather receiving his attention. “Give Cadance structure and organisation. Call it the ‘love corps’ or sumptin.”
Nodding, Celestia began to see infinite possibility.
“Cadance, I’m so lonely… I’m so lonely and I think I need some help.”
Ears perking, Cadance turned and looked at her aunt. The words were familiar, haunting even, Celestia had said she was lonely and those were the words that had started the whole whirlwind romance. And now, as Cadance saw, there had been a realisation. Her aunt had come around, as was evidenced by the expression upon her face.
“Cadance, I’m so alone that it hurts. I didn’t know it… I guess I wasn’t paying attention… at some point, I became starved for intimacy. I think… I don’t know. But I didn’t realise just how bad it was… or that it had become such a problem… I slapped Gosling earlier… I was so angry at him… wanting to kill himself… wanting to die… and then it all came rushing up in my mind and I started to think about how alone I would be without him and how alone I already was, and the full realisation of it came into my mind and it hurt me and then I was holding him and we made up and I wanted him so badly and he almost took me on the floor and then we took a cold shower together and afterwards we talked for a while and then we preened each others’ wings and when I left him, he was sleeping again, and it ached, Cadance, it ached to leave him, and I wanted to feel him near me, I wanted to smell him, to touch him, to hear him breathing, and Cadance, there is something wrong with me! I panicked when I left him in the room and then I couldn’t breathe! And when I realised I was panicking I panicked even more and then I didn’t know what to do so I came and I found you!”
And then, the floodgates opened. No more words were said, but Celestia began bawling. Cadance stood there for a moment, stunned, overcome with emotion herself, but she recovered almost right away. She strode forwards and stood neck to neck with Celestia, who collapsed against her. Cadance almost tumbled down to the floor and it took the strength of Cadance’s magic to hold her sobbing aunt up.
Silent, Cadance allowed her aunt to let it out. Celestia was consumed with her grief and her body was wracked by deep, shuddering sobs that made her convulse. Cadance of course, had seen this coming, and was wondering when it would happen. She had predicted it sooner, she had thought it would happen when Celestia had broken down a bit on the day that Gosling had painted her a sunset. But the full break and the request for help hadn’t happened.
Now, her aunt was broken completely, her pride gone, and she was begging for help. Celestia had finally come around to recognise the emptiness in her heart. Cadance held her and they stood, neck to neck, with Cadance wrapping her wings around her aunt’s neck.
“I feel... so... hollow... inside!”
Cadance held her aunt and wept with her. Sometimes, words weren’t enough.
Heaving a sigh, Cadance gave a weary shake of her head as she stepped away from Celestia’s bed. The big white alicorn was slumbering beside Gosling, a deep, deep, medicated sleep brought on by sedatives. She moved through her aunt’s chambers in near silence, stepped out through the wide double doors, and shut them behind her. She looked down at Raven, who stood waiting.
“I have taken control of the day,” Cadance said in a low, solemn voice. “Do you dispute this?”
Raven shook her head. “No, no I do not.”
“Princess Luna still rules the night.” Cadance blinked away a few tears and felt a heaviness in her heart. “I saw this coming. Good thing I was prepared. Prince Blueblood will perform the day to day duties of the day court, with me having the final say on any major issues. My aunt needs rest. Real rest. She needs a break. A vacation. A thousand years of near nonstop labour have taken a toll upon her.”
“Yes, yes they have,” Raven replied, nodding her head.
“Send a dispatch to Lumina Loveletter, Gosling’s therapist. Tell her I want her to begin couples counselling right away, and individual sessions as well, with both of them, starting tomorrow.” Cadance’s tone was austere, commanding, and left no room for questioning.
“Yes, Princess Cadance, right away, Princess Cadance.”
“And Raven…”
“Yes?”
“Consider taking some downtime yourself. I think we’ve all been a little frazzled.”
Raven blinked behind her glasses a few times and looked confused. “I’ll take that into consideration.” After a pause, Raven’s distress cleared away. “What of the engagement party? Everything was in the beginning planning stages.”
Cadance’s lips pressed together into a thin, straight line, and her eyes rolled up towards the ceiling as she became lost in thought. She stood there for a full minute before she responded, “Continue to plan. Auntie needs this. She needs somepony to do something wonderful for her. I’ll call for help. Make certain that we have well screened guests though. No troublemakers. This event will no longer be open to the public. We want to keep this stress free and low key. She needs to be able to enjoy herself.”
“Will do,” Raven replied.
“You must excuse me, Raven, but there is much to do. I have ponies to look after.” Cadance’s stern face wrinkled with worry and concern. Her ears splayed out to the sides for a moment, then stood up, and then drooped again. Saying nothing else, she departed, knowing there was much work to be done. While Celestia was down, it was time for a bit of housecleaning.
Feeling heavy, Celestia opened her eyes, which almost felt like an impossible task. Her eyelids resisted her actions and it took a supreme act of will. There was a warm body beside her and the bed felt delightful. The sheets and blankets had the sort of warmth that only came with hours of collected body heat.
Her vision was blurry, fuzzed over, and she saw something greyish black in the corner of her vision. Her mouth was filled with cotton balls, or at least that is how it felt. There was a warm, snuggly body beside her in the bed, beneath the blankets, and with extreme effort, she slid her head over her pillowcase closer to Gosling.
“Hello, Sunshine,” Gosling said in a low voice.
“My little Goosey-Goose,” Celestia said, shocked at how slurred her words sounded in her own ears, “they stabbed me in my bum-bum.”
“I know,” Gosling replied, “Cadance told me.”
“It hurt.” Celestia felt surprisingly foalish for some reason. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to keep them open. She could feel her eyelashes on her left side brushing against the soft silk of her pillowcase. “Whatcha doing, Goosey?”
“Reading a textbook for field command procedures,” Gosling replied. “I have a test coming. Passing it means a higher pay grade.”
“Goosey, that sounds incredibly boring.” Celestia’s lips were numb and she couldn’t feel them flapping together. She tried to move her foreleg and couldn’t. She couldn’t move much of anything at all. She struggled to even move her head. The siren song of sleep called out to her, sweet, gentle sleep, and she longed to sink back down into the velvet, abyssal depths. Somehow, she resisted and she continued to try and focus on her beloved Goosey-Goose.
“Cadance pulled off a coup d'état.” Celestia coughed; something about the Fancy words tickled her throat. She drew in a deep breath and was thankful for the warm body beside her. “She had one of her minions stab me in the bum-bum.”
“You had to be sedated,” Gosling said as he continued reading. “You were hyperventilating.”
“When I was stabbed in the bum-bum, I said to Cadance, ‘Et tu, Mi Amore Cadenza?’ and she just laughed at me. She’s cold, Goosey-Goose. She had me stabbed and then she took over.”
“You were raving.”
“I don’t remember raving.” Celestia blinked and relished the sensation of her eyelashes sweeping over the smooth, almost frictionless silk pillowcase. “I remember being a little upset and I might have got a bit shouty. Maybe just a little.” It took real effort to clear her throat. “But I don’t think I was raving.”
“Cadance and I talked a little bit earlier, while you were still asleep.” Gosling closed his book, wiggled around, pushed his book under his pillow, laid his head down, and then scooted around until he lay snoot to snoot with Celestia. He could feel her legs tangled up against his. “Cadance said she was trusting me with your body during your comatose state.”
“Did you give me a good sleep humping, Goosey?”
“No!”
“Well drats.” Celestia let out a sigh of discontent. “Why not?”
Celestia felt her nose twitch. Gosling’s words tickled her snoot, which was weird. She couldn’t feel her lips, but she could feel her snoot. With slow, cautious movement, her tongue snaked out from between lips she could not feel, doubled back, and she poked the tip of it against her snoot. She could feel the rough tip on her snoot, but her tongue was numb and could not feel her snoot with the tip.
“Mthy thongue ith numbth,” Celestia mumbled around her tongue. To amuse herself, she extended her tongue and gave Gosling a lick. He was just close enough for her to do it. She saw his eyes cross and she couldn’t feel a thing on her tongue as she licked him.
With a slurp, Celestia sucked her tongue back in. She lay there, feeling drowsy, still fighting to keep her eyelids open. The feeling of warmth and having another body close by only added to her strong urge to sleep. The warmth of another body was intoxicating.
“I love you so much,” Gosling said to Celestia.
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Celestia replied. “Goosey…”
“Yes?”
“Blueblood says that you need to paddle Luna to show her that you love her.” Celestia pressed her lips together and blew a flatulent raspberry. “He said that Luna is a bad pony and she needs to be punished so she can validate her own existence. You need to be a brave, brave pony, Gosling, and take up a paddle and heat up my sister’s backside.” She saw Gosling blinking and wondered if he enjoyed the sensation of his eyelashes brushing over the silken pillowcase. “You’re the only pony I trust to do it… don’t let me down, Goosey. Make her cry. It’s for her own good. She deserves to be happy. Stop looking at me like that. Go ask Blueblood, he’ll tell you.”
“I wonder how much ketamine it takes to drop an alicorn?” Gosling whispered.
“Cadance had her co-conspirators stab me in my bum-bum.” Celestia started to blink, but her eyes felt too heavy to open back up. She yawned, stretched a bit by tensing her body, and felt a moist heat spreading through her nethers as she thought about her beloved Goosey-Goose giving her a good Juicy-Goosey sleep humping. She struggled against sleep, trying to open her eyes, but the urge was just too strong.
“Don’t leave me, Goosey-Goose…”
“Never,” was the final word that Celestia was aware of.
Again, Celestia awoke, and her tongue felt like old, dried out leather. She heard muffled voices talking. An ear twitched as she recognised Cadance’s voice. There was not one, but two bodies in the bed with her. Gosling was off to one side, but something else was pressed up against her other side. Something small rested against her back.
“Are you comfortable, Gosling?”
“The painkillers are working, that’s for certain. I feel okay.”
“How do you feel about your surroundings right now?”
“I don’t follow… staying in Celestia’s room?”
“No.” A pause. “How do you feel being in the bed of the mare you love, outside of marriage? I know you feel conflicted, but how are you handling it?”
“I… I’m… I, well, I’m managing, you know? No plan ever survives contact with the enemy. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I almost boned her right on the floor today.”
Celestia’s ear twitched again. She didn’t feel like opening her eyes. The smaller body curled up against her back breathed with slow regularity. Her sleep addled brain decided that it must be Flurry. Something in her heart ached. She wanted her own foals in the bed with her, she wanted to feel foals that weren’t even born yet, much less conceived.
A new voice spoke. “Boning. You know, for a pony that puts so much stock into the sanctity of marriage and holds marital relations as being sacred, your words sometimes portray it as a crude, vulgar thing.”
“Well I can’t go around saying ‘sexual congress’ or something stupid like that.” And then, after a long pause, “Coitus just sounds wrong. I suppose I am a pony of my generation. I hold on to the old traditions, but I just speak what’s on my mind. I don’t mince words.”
“But words reflect how we feel about what we hold dear. In your chosen field, you know the power of a well placed word, Gosling. Your test scores all rank in the ninetieth percentile for communications. You are exceptional.”
Celestia did not recognise the second voice. It was soft, female, patient, kind sounding. There was a faint Grittish Isles accent. From experience, even with her drug addled brain, she knew that the accent would grow stronger with emotion. Some ponies were like that. Like her beloved Goosey-Goose.
“Fine, use my job against me. Yeah, I can be well spoken when I need to be. Sometimes though, the simplest words are the best. They drive the point across. What almost happened earlier today could have been classified as coitus, but as far as descriptions go, it would have been a boning, okay? In the state I was in, and by the way she was acting too, I don’t think it could be called making love. We woulda been like two animals on the floor.”
“Do you see your beloved princess as an animal?” the cultured, Trottingham accented voice asked. Celestia waited for a reply, fighting against the need to drift back off to sleep.
“Yes. Yes I do.” Hearing a strong, wet, bubbly inhale, she resisted the overwhelming need for sleep as she waited for more words from Gosling. “She’s an animal. I’m an animal. You’re an animal. We all are. And we all have needs. Strong needs. We need love, food, water, air, all those things, and we need all kinds of coitus. Sometimes, we need a hot, heavy boning. Sometimes we need a good screwing. A nice shtupping. An afternoon quickie. Angry make up sex. Waxing the morning wood. I could go on... but we can’t convey those feelings or their associations with just the word coitus.”
“Well said, Gosling.”
“Thank you, Cadance.”
Celestia felt a hoof come to rest upon her neck. “Yeah, she’s an animal. Just like I am. She’s a mare. She’s a pony, not at all different from the rest of us, and she’s subject to the same needs that we all have.” There was a pause and a hesitant sounding inhale of breath. “Are you certain that Flurry can’t hear us talk?”
“Positive. She’s sleeping and her ears are muffled.”
“Whew.”
Whew indeed. Celestia was losing her struggle and she knew it. The abyss yawned before her and she yearned to dive in. She wanted to lose herself in the darkness again. To rest. To sleep. Blessed sleep.
There was a soft knock upon the door which kept Celestia on this side of the void. She listened, her ears straining, curious. Hearing no reply, she assumed that Cadance must have pulled the door open with her magic and she heard the faint sound, almost silent, of it brushing over carpet.
“Princess Cadance, I come bearing news,” a gruff male voice said.
“Yes?”
“Skyfire Flash has entered early labour.”
“What?” Gosling’s voice sounded worried.
“She’s hemorrhaging and they’re preparing her for birth. She has requested that the future Prince Gosling be there with her. She’s scared. She wants the company of her only friend.”
The warm body beside her moved and Celestia waited, almost holding her breath, wondering what Gosling would do, hoping he would do the right thing. Her own body tensed as she waited. She very much wanted Gosling to do the right thing. Please, Goosey-Goose, be the good pony that I know you are…
“But I… we’re not… I can’t stand her—”
“Gosling, you were her friend once,” Cadance said in a low voice. “Think back to what it was like being her friend. Don’t let your hate or your anger cloud your judgment on doing the right thing.”
“Damn you!” Celestia felt the bed shake and she wondered what was going on. “Damn you, Cadance… I made a promise that I would be here with Celestia when she woke up! Don’t guilt trip me into breaking my promise!”
“And you’ve kept that promise,” Cadance replied, “because she’s been awake for a while.”
Celestia felt a hoof give her a firm poke. She struggled to open her eye. She saw her beloved Goosey-Goose looking down at her, and though her vision was fuzzy and blurred, she could see the agony on his face.
“Oy vey!” The bed shook again and Celestia felt Gosling moving around. “Fine. I’ll go do the right thing… somepony help me up.”
Celestia too, wanted to do the right thing, but the siren call of sleep was far too strong for her to resist. She started to say something, to praise her beloved Goosey-Goose, for being the good pony that she knew that he could be, but all that came out was a yawn.
She drifted off on velvet waves that crashed against the shores of the dreaming realm.
As Gosling was led down the hallway, he saw his mother, Sleet, standing by what he assumed was the door to Skyfire’s room. He wobbled for a moment, he couldn’t tell if it was his ear problem or his emotions. He couldn’t make out the expression upon his mother’s face. When their eyes met, he felt something go through him, it was like flying too close to a thunderhead and feeling the static in the air. All of the hair along his crest and the back of his neck stood up.
“Gosling…”
He could hear the heartbreak in his mother’s voice. His ears stood up straight as he took the last few steps to close the distance between him and his mother. He felt Cadance give him a little nudge to keep him upright.
“You grew up to be the pony that I hoped that you would be,” Sleet said in a voice that cracked and became shrill with emotion. Her somewhat nasal voice became a whole lot more nasal when the tears began to spill down her cheeks. “There’s only so much room in there, so I’ll be out here, waiting. I’m proud of you. I can’t say if you’re doing the right thing, but I’m proud of you for doing your best to be a good pony. A mother couldn’t be more proud.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Gosling felt himself nudged towards the door by Cadance.
“Go and be a stallion,” Sleet said as the door opened and Gosling was led inside. “The time of your youth has truly passed.” Sleet bowed her head, closed her eyes, and tears spilled down to the floor as her son disappeared into the doorway.
The scent of blood was overpowering, overwhelming, and made Gosling feel even more dizzy. The coppery tang in the air assaulted his nostrils and made the back of his throat tickle. He stood frozen, his body having gone stiff, and for a moment, he wasn’t certain he could go through with this. Bright crimson dripped and pooled on the floor. Gosling stared, wide eyed, and then he heard Cadance say, “Don’t look down.”
Something unseen could be felt beneath his chin and a gentle force lifted his head. He swallowed, feeling woozy, and at that moment, Cadance was the only thing keeping him upright. He was scooted towards the head of the bed, his eyes lingering on Skyfire. She lay on her back with her legs strapped into two metal braces. A sheet was draped over her middle as a curtain, cutting off her own view of her stomach.
His eyes met hers and he saw terror. For a moment, he could not help himself, he felt pity for her. No parents to be with her, she had nopony, nopony at all. All she had was… him. He had been her friend once, it seemed like a lifetime ago. They had been friends for years… long before Gosling even started to notice fillies in that special way.
“It’s early!” Skyfire said in a screechy whine.
“It’ll be okay,” Cadance said to Skyfire as she stood beside the filly’s head.
“But it’s early!” Skyfire shook her head and panted in panic. “I can’t feel anything down past my wings! What’s going on?”
“They gave you an epidural,” Cadance said in a soothing voice. “And it will be okay. You’re around ten months along, give or take a few weeks. Everything will be fine, I promise.” She drew in a deep breath, blinked, and then lowered her head to be closer to Skyfire. “The foal needs to come out now. There is no time to wait. They’re going to make a small incision—”
“NO!” Skyfire thrashed against her restraints, but was unable to move. She let out a frightened whinny as her whole body was engulfed in a bright pink glow.
“You need to stay very, very still,” Cadance said to Skyfire.
Gosling lifted up one foreleg, wobbled, felt himself righted by Cadance, and then extended his foreleg. Reaching out, he took Skyfire’s fetlock into his own, folding his around hers, and giving it a soft squeeze. Skyfire calmed a bit, and her head turned so she could look at Gosling.
“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” Skyfire said as she gazed up at Gosling. “I’m sorry… really, I am… all of this… it wasn’t worth losing you as a friend… I wish I’d never strung you along… they say you don’t know what good things you have until you don’t have them anymore.”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Gosling replied.
“Even now, it is all I can think about… all I can think about was how stupid I was… I keep thinking if I had just gone to you when I found out I was pregnant, you probably would have helped me. Or been there for me… but I ruined everything!”
“Miss Flash, you’re going to feel some pressure,” a voice on the other side of the surgical curtain said.
“What’s going on?” Skyfire’s panic rose and her terror made her pant even harder.
“We’re going to make an incision in your abdomen. It won’t hurt, but you will feel some discomfort and some pressure. Just take deep breaths, try to hold still, and this will all be over very, very soon.”
“Don’t cut me… don’t cut me… please don’t cut me!” Skyfire squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth together. She gripped Gosling’s fetlock with her own, locking on to him with what could only be described as a death-grip. “IT FEELS WEIRD DOWN THERE!”
“I’m sure it does.” Gosling moved a little closer to the bed and lowered his head until his lips were inches from Skyfire’s ear. Each breath of his made her ear twitch. He felt her squeezing his fetlock and he gave her a little squeeze in return that he hoped would reassure her. There was a squelch, followed by a wet sucking sound and Gosling felt himself grow far too nauseous when he heard something splattering.
“I can feel things moving inside of me!” Skyfire began to whimper and looked up at Cadance with pleading eyes. “Put me to sleep! Please! Put me under!”
“If I did that, you wouldn’t get a chance to meet somepony very special,” Cadance replied in a soft voice. “When this is over, you’ll barely even remember it, I promise. You’re going to look into two little eyes and forget all about this.”
“If we don’t stop this uterine bleeding, we’re going to have a problem!” a gruff voice shouted.
“Pull the foal out so we can see inside better!” another voice bellowed.
“What’s happening?” Skyfire’s voice was nothing more than a terrified, raspy whisper. “I don’t feel good… I feel faint…”
“Get the crash cart over here, now!”
The door opened and a whole herd of ponies crammed into the room. Gosling couldn’t see anything past the now bloodied sheet hanging down and acting as a curtain. He saw something small and bloody being carried out of the room and knew without asking about it that it was the foal. He felt a terrible sinking feeling inside. The foal wasn’t crying.
“I can’t find the source of the bleeding!”
“I can’t feel the pressure any more,” Skyfire said in what sounded like a terrified, but sleepy voice. “I feel cold.”
Gosling felt Skyfire’s grip on his fetlock go limp. He gave her a squeeze, hoping for some response, but there was nothing. He felt a rising panic inside of him and discovered that he still had feelings for Skyfire, strong feelings, she was, even with everything that had happened, his friend. He gave her another squeeze and choked back the sobs threatening to overcome him.
“I need everypony to listen to me!” Cadance commanded in a voice that made everything in the room rattle, shake, and tremble. “I need you to think about the ones you love… your mothers, your fathers, your foals, your brothers, your sisters, your wives, and your husbands. I need you to focus upon the love you feel for them and I need you to do it, NOW!”
The alicorn’s command was irresistible. The room lapsed into a strange, almost unnatural silence. Gosling blinked a few times and tried to think about the ponies that he loved. He loved his mother a great deal. He loved Celestia, that much was without question. He thought about Luna and didn’t know what to feel. That bothered him, as he knew that he would be marrying her soon. He thought of Cadance and knew that he loved her in some way that he had trouble putting into words. Her treatment plan had made him feel better and brought him to Celestia.
There was a strange rumble, everything was shaken with terrific force, and then everything turned pink. Gosling was blinded and then, a second later, he was struck with incredible impact by what felt like a flood. He couldn’t tell which way was up or down, and he couldn’t tell if he was breathing. He couldn’t feel his hooves touching anything. Something that was almost, but not quite a liquid was all around him, and the only thing he could think of to describe what was going on was that it was somehow like being inside of the womb again.
Sounds distorted all around him, he heard muffled cries, shouts, but it all sounded like he was underwater. It was all distant and discordant. Time slowed and sped up. For a time, all Gosling could hear was the sound of his own heart beating, and the roar of blood rushing through his veins. He felt the strange liquid-like environment all around him sink into his body, entering in through every orifice. Up his nose, in his mouth, down his ears, and it crept into other places as well, unmentionable places, and all of it was quite uncomfortable. He couldn’t fight it, he couldn’t resist it, the flood was crushing him, consuming him, and he couldn’t breathe.
He tried to suck in air, but there was none to be had and his lungs filled with whatever was all around him. He swam in the pink flow like an embryonic foal swimming through endless uterine oceans.
“Gossy, wake up, it’s time to go to school.”
His mother’s voice was clear in his ears and he felt himself drifting, as though he was struggling to remain asleep while his mother tried to wake him. Something was missing—his forelegs had a distinct empty ache. He longed for an almost forgotten foalhood toy. A stuffed white alicorn with a pastel rainbow mane and tail. She had been his constant companion when he was a yearling, he remembered talking to her, promising to be a brave pegasus, promising to serve her. Gosling was consumed by a flood of almost forgotten memories from his yearlinghood, but now, he had perfect recall. The tiny stuffed Princess Celestia was his first and most dearest friend. They had adventures together, hiding in boxes, which became ships that sailed endless oceans, or huts that protected them from the dangerous jungle outside.
He had loved her so much, held her so often, snuggled with her in his sleep. She had become threadbare, tattered, ratty, she had started to come apart and her stuffing leaked. The princess that he had loved as a foal had died by degrees, destroyed by the very love he had given her. She had yellowed, become stained, her mane and her tail had fallen out strand by strand, yet he still somehow loved her. One day, she had come apart completely, and Gosling was inconsolable. He now remembered it all with perfect clarity. He wondered what his mother had done with her remains.
There had been so much love for her, so many promises made, promises to be a good pegasus, to protect the weak, defend the innocent, and to do good. Promises made to obey his mother and be a good foal. The memories overwhelmed him, overpowered him, and he was powerless to think of anything else. Something inside of his mind made the connection that, after her loss, after she had fallen apart, his brain had tucked away these memories for safe keeping, tucked them away into a place so safe and so secure that he had almost forgotten them. He had grown up, he had changed, and at some point as a colt, he had learned that little colts didn’t play with dolls. He became ashamed of the stuffed toys that he had and neglected them. In time, the memory, tucked away in the back of his mind, had faded, as it was far too shameful and embarrassing to remember.
But now, as the flood threatened to drown him, he longed to hold the tiny stuffed Princess Celestia once again. He longed to feel her soft velveteen body against him as his mother tucked him into bed and sang to him.
“Gossy, wake up, you’ll be late for school!”
But Gosling did not want to wake up. He wanted to stay down here in the pink depths, remembering his beloved and almost forgotten toy. He longed to remain drifting. This was a good place. A warm place. This was a happy place. To be a foal again, a yearling, to be young and innocent, when he knew no shame, and the most terrible thing he had ever had to worry about was when he had spilled grape juice out of his sippy cup all over his princess.
“Gossy…”
The voice faded as he let himself drift in the pink depths, dreaming of his tiny velveteen princess, reliving a time when there was no stress, no trouble, only happiness. He flapped his wings and felt the strange liquid-like substance flow all around him.
Nothing felt right as Gosling began his ascent out of the depths of the slumbering realms. He was warm and in a soft bed. His mother was beside him, he could feel her large, warm, soft body against him, and tucked between his forelegs was his very best friend. A drowsy smile spread over his face as he cuddled the stuffed toy closer.
But something was wrong in Gosling’s perfect world. A rush of memories flowed through his mind, memories of adulthood, of falling in love, of being hurt, of having his heart broken. His very best friend had lost her stuffing and she had vanished long ago. A fresh memory bobbed to the surface, a terrible memory, of a small, bloody foal being carried away.
His whole body jerking, Gosling forced his eyes open. He looked down and sure enough, he held a velveteen princess in his embrace. She was smaller than he remembered, or maybe he was larger, it was hard to think in his current state. He blinked, feeling confused, bewildered, but somehow glad to see his beloved toy. She was new, white, and still had her mane. Shiny pink beads served as eyes. He blinked a few times, trying to figure out what she was doing there.
It was not his mother beside him, but Celestia. Everything felt weird. He was holding a small stuffed version of the alicorn beside him. He let out a confused whimper and lifted his head. The memories of his foalhood were still fresh in his mind. He remembered every detail, everything was so vivid, but most of all, he remembered every promise. He had loved her then, and he loved her now. A rosy warmth spread over his cheeks as the fond memories played through his mind.
“How?” he asked of the small stuffed alicorn in his embrace.
“I thought it would be most amusing for you to see your old friend again.”
Lifting his head, Gosling saw Luna. She stood near the balcony door, staring at him, smiling. A million questions filled his mind, all of them rushing to his mouth to be said, and he began to worry about Skyfire as well. Overwhelmed, he began to feel afraid, but some strange force overwhelmed him and he felt himself calming down. He let out another whimper, but could not form words, as there was just too much to say.
“You have questions, that’s normal, and I have answers.” Luna drew in a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Skyfire is fine. She is recovering and in good health. She delivered a colt, an earth pony, and while he is quite tiny, he is expected to be just fine.”
Gosling let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Luna’s words.
“Cadance had a surge,” Luna began in a low voice, “she attempted to use healing magic, powered by her empathy and her ability to draw strength from love. She’s fine, but she will be out of commission for a few days. We’re down another alicorn, it seems. First my sister, and now Cadance. We are left with the most peculiar situation of Prince Blueblood being left in charge. How droll. I do hope that he brings back public executions, or at least the stocks.”
Needing comfort, Gosling squeezed the stuffed Celestia to his heart and pressed his nose against the top of her head. He could feel the stiff felt horn against his snoot and the soft, somewhat fuzzy yarn that made up her mane.
“As for me, I am here trying to determine what happened to you. The doctors were baffled, but I was able to puzzle it out. It took my extensive knowledge of magic.”
Looking up from his fuzzy stuffed friend, Gosling noticed that Luna seemed to be attentive and in top form. She didn’t seem to be suffering from her usual slip-ups with lapsing back into Ye Olden Speech. He could see the worry upon her face, the concern. And something else, but he couldn’t make out what it was.
“Cadance’s surge and her healing magic got out of control,” Luna said in a low voice as she began her explanation. “From what I was able to gather from her, she concentrated on staunching the blood flow from Skyfire. But she lost control. She had far too much power available to her. The ponies present, doctors, nurses, you, were all caught up in her influence. One of the doctors no longer needs eyeglasses to be able to see. Skyfire’s hemorrhaging slowed down considerably, but she still needed to be sewn up.”
“And me?” Gosling’s voice sounded strange in his own ears. He was a lot less raspy.
“Thou art a curious pony indeed.” Luna’s eyes narrowed. “Cadance’s magic latched on to you. It was you, after all, that she was drawing her power from. Your love. Your dedication. Her magic returned to the source and ascension was very nearly triggered, by accident. Had Cadance not burned herself out, you would have a horn right now. The ascension magic found you worthy. It healed you, trying to undo the damage done, and tried to remake you. The alchemical concoctions in your system, the painkillers, it saw them as poison and purged them, or tried to, as it attempted to rebirth you.” Luna blinked and took a step closer to the bed. “The gash in your shoulder closed, but not completely. As I am sure you have noticed, you have your voice back. You weren’t healed completely, but there was much restoration. There were other side effects, as I am sure you will soon notice.”
“How did you know about her?” Gosling asked as he looked down at the stuffed princess cradled in his forelegs.
“I have been in your mind for hours, trying to determine what took place, and trying to see if you were okay,” Luna replied. She took another step closer to the bed, her eyes narrowed, and her ears leaned forwards. “You’ve become a very curious little pony indeed, Gosling. I was surprised at the ease at which I entered your mind. I was even more surprised to find that you have a connection to the sun and the moon.”
“Yeah… I’ve been noticing… I can tell when the sun is about to rise or if it is night… it’s about two hours away from the dawn right now.” Gosling’s brow furrowed. “How do I know that?”
“Love is a strange and many splendored thing.” Luna’s stern face broke into a smile. “Cadance says that when two ponies are truly in love, a special sort of love, they become as one. She and Shining Armor share a strange bond that I myself have studied… they share dreams, Gosling, and though I do not yet understand how it works, I am convinced that the bond exists.”
Rolling over onto his back, Gosling turned his head to look at Celestia, who slumbered beside him. One ear twitched with each breath she took. He loved her. She was the big version of his beloved foalhood toy. He had loved her then, and he loved her now. A peculiar feeling overcame him as he watched her breathing. His body shifted beneath the blankets and he felt his wings twitch against his sides. His stomach didn’t hurt, didn’t ache, his muscles didn’t feel as tense or tight.
“Your dedication and devotion to a toy stayed with you, Gosling, buried in your subconscious. That tiny spark ignited within you at a young age and stayed with you, grew with you, developed with you, and you did your best to keep your promises. Vows and promises are their own special form of magic, Gosling, and strange things can happen when a pony takes an oath and backs it with fervent dedication. Not all magic is understood.”
“I want to see Skyfire,” Gosling said as he rolled over onto his side once more and kicked his legs over so he could get out of the bed. He wiggled, slipping between the mattress and the blankets. He placed his stuffed princess upon his pillow, hung his legs over the side of the bed, and then got onto his hooves.
He wobbled a bit and felt some dizziness. The cause of said dizziness was more than just his ears though, he blinked in startled astonishment. The ground was too far away. He staggered, but before he could fall, Luna caught him.
“I told you were different,” Luna whispered. “Go slowly. Take time to adjust to your new body. Thou art very different, Gosling.”
Looking down, Gosling was frightened by how tall he was. He was bigger, taller, he had filled out more, it was like he had grown in his sleep. He looked up at Luna and found that he was almost at eye level with her. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
“The ascension magic found you worthy, Gosling,” Luna said in a low voice as she took a step closer. “It tried to rebirth you. To recreate you. It purged the chemicals in your blood. It tried to fix your ear problems. It almost fixed your breathing. And it did much to restore your body, which was ravaged by malnourishment. You are now almost what you were meant to be.”
Gosling spread his wings, which were longer now, better formed, and he could feel the itch of many new sheaths growing. New feathers were growing in. His wings felt heavier and he held them out as he marveled at them. Blinking, he turned his head to look at Luna. He was taller now, much taller, and while still not as big as Luna, he was now at least as big if not bigger than many of his fellow soldiers. His legs were still slender, but they had filled out and were longer. He wobbled a bit, but from shock or dizziness, he could not tell.
“My sister is going to be very surprised.” Luna extended her wing, reached out, and touched the place where Gosling had seven stitches. The gash was almost gone now, all that was left was a small, puckered sore.
Turning his head, Gosling looked where Luna was touching him and stared. He didn’t understand how this was possible and he was far too stunned to ask questions. He took a moment to compose himself, gave himself a shake, and then surprised Luna with a kiss upon her cheek.
“Thank you,” he said to her as he pulled away. “I have work to do. I wonder if Skyfire is awake.” Turning his head, Gosling looked down at the stuffed Celestia. Reaching out a wing, he picked up the toy and then held it beneath his wing, secure against his body.
“She is awake.” Luna moved to stand in front of Gosling. “I am uncertain of my feelings about you and her. They are complex and conflicting. Perhaps you and I shall talk later, when there is time.”
“Perhaps.” Gosling gave Luna a polite bow of his head. Then, on a whim, he kissed her again, this time on the lips. He threw his weight forwards and put some emotion behind it. This kiss surprised Luna, and when he pulled away, he saw confusion and shock in her eyes. It pleased him to see her in such a state.
“Thou art too bold,” Luna said as she backed away. She pressed her lips together and glared at Gosling through narrowed eyes that flashed with many emotions.
“We’ll talk about that, too, I’m sure.” Holding his stuffed princess beneath his wing, Gosling took off at a cautious trot. He could still feel a lingering dizziness, a lightheadedness, but the waves of nausea were absent. He decided that he could manage. “I gotta go and be a prince.”
“Should thou take liberties with mine body ever again, thou shalt not live long enough to wear a crown,” Luna said as Gosling headed for the door. She lifted her foreleg, then rubbed her lips and her muzzle. “Thou art a fish lipped scallywag!” Luna’s cheeks had a distinct purple-pinkish hue and she seethed through clenched teeth as Gosling departed, her breath coming out in great snorts.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Gosling replied to the flustered, blushing mare as he trotted away.
As Gosling drew near, he saw that the door was open. Skyfire was in a different room now, a better room, a more comfortable room. The nurse had mentioned that she was no longer on a suicide watch, which put him at ease. As he approached, he heard low voices. He paused, waiting outside of the field of view, and listened. He heard the sound of both his mother and Skyfire’s voices.
Moving with caution, he crept a little closer, not certain what he was feeling at the moment, and then decided to just be direct. He stuck his head in the door and looked around. His mother was sitting in a chair beside Skyfire’s bed. She looked tired, weary, but also happy. Skyfire was laying in bed, covered by a blanket, and she was reclining on her back. Cradled in her forelegs was a blanket wrapped bundle. Both of them were staring at him.
“Gosling,” they both said together.
“In the flesh,” he replied with a grin. For whatever reason, he felt marvelous. He pushed his way through the door and stepped inside. He strode over to the bed, his head low, aware of the fact that both his mother and Skyfire were staring at him with wide eyes.
“So tall,” his mother breathed, “what did Princess Cadance’s magic do to you?”
“That’s not important right now,” Gosling replied. He lifted his head a bit, tilted it off to one side, and looked down at the blanket wrapped bundle held in Skyfire’s forelegs. Holding on to the Princess Celestia stuffy, he extended his wing, and with great care, he set the stuffed toy down on the bed beside Skyfire. He heard a gasp from his mother.
“He’s gonna need a role model… his mother is a trouble maker. Having Princess Celestia around to keep an eye on him should keep him on the straight and narrow. It worked for me.” Gosling lifted his head high and drew himself up to his full height. He took a deep breath and his barrel, now broadened, expanded.
“Gosling, I want to keep him… I want to do the right thing… I’ll serve…” Skyfire looked down at the tiny foal she held. “I love him so much… I don’t care if Cadance’s magic had something to do with it, but I feel so much love right now… or maybe it didn’t and this is just how a mother feels… but I want to do the right thing. Your mother and I have been talking.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Gosling said. He was surprised at how much deeper his voice was. He blinked a few times, then reaching out with his wing, he touched the princess plushie. He gazed at it, remembering fond memories, and then his eyes met with Skyfire’s.
“I’m sorry, Gosling, I really am.” Skyfire looked up at Gosling with pleading eyes. “My mind is different. I don’t know what happened to me. I haven’t been the same since Princess Cadance’s spell.”
“Like I said, one year of service, then we’ll talk. I will come to his birthday party. I’ll bring a cake. And you and I will talk.” Gosling bowed his head and then took a step backwards.
“You’d do that for him?” Skyfire asked as her eyes flooded with tears.
“I’d do that for both of you,” Gosling replied. He was feeling different too. He wondered just what Cadance’s magic had done to him. He found it very difficult to be angry with Skyfire. He found that he didn’t want to be angry with Skyfire. It felt better to forgive. He paused, reflecting upon his thoughts, then took a step forwards again. He lowered his head down, moving with care, and pressed his snoot against the newborn colt that Skyfire held.
“Happy birthday,” he whispered into one tiny velvet ear, which twitched against his lips.
Smiling, he lifted his head, looked into Skyfire’s eyes once more for a moment, then lifted his head as Skyfire lay there, sobbing while clutching her foal. He stepped away again, then turned to look at his mother. She too, was crying, blubbering while wiping her nose on her foreleg.
“I’m gonna go get me some breakfast. I’m starving. And it’s not gonna be no cracked wheat.” Gosling let out a snort and shook his head. “I’d rather eat the cardboard box it comes in. That stuff is nasty.”
“I’d like to come with you, Gosling, but I made a promise,” Sleet said to her son as she wept. She sniffled, she snorted, and then she coughed. “I promised I’d get her through this, and I will.” Sleet closed her eyes, her body trembled, and then she added, “I wish that somepony had been there for me… it’s rough, Gosling, and I know it’s complicated, but I can’t walk away.”
“I don’t want you walking away,” Gosling said to his mother. “You just do what you’re doing. I think I’ve made some peace with this, but Skyfire is still gonna wait a year before I’m willing to listen to her apology.”
“Gossy, you’re terrible.” Sleet, still crying, gave her son a weak, quavering smile.
“I gotta go… I’m dyin’ of starvation over here. You have no idea how empty I feel… we’ll talk later, Ma, I promise. You don’t gotta wait no year.”
“Get outta here, Gossy, and don’t talk like a hoodlum!” Sleet gave her son a dismissive wave with her hoof.
“Oh, and before I go,” Gosling said to Skyfire, “welcome to the guard, Private Flash. Better get used to the jokes you’re going to hear because of your name now, ‘cause they’re gonna be never ending.”
And with that, Gosling was gone. He slipped out the door and as he walked down the hallway, off to find himself some breakfast, he whistled a warbling song.
As it turned out, Gosling wasn’t quite important enough to request that breakfast be made early. He had been given a peanut buttery granola bar, a smile, and then he had been sent on his way. Feeling as though he was going to die from starvation at any moment, he had waited in the dining room, becoming the first pony to arrive for breakfast, which was served sometime just before or after dawn.
Forced to wait, he sat in his chair, popped his lips, made funny faces, practiced making silly voices as well as amusing impressions, (he felt as though he captured Prince Blueblood’s snark quite well) and tried to get a feeling for the changes wrought to his body by Cadance’s magic. He was different. He couldn’t help but feel that he was a lot more handsome. And his wingspan? Bigger than ever. He could not wait to show it off. The world had to know. There was a lot more to show off and he planned to make an impressive display for his chosen mate. He was going to wow her.
Stuck in a room, filled with far too much energy, Gosling’s mind raced from subject to subject, thinking about everything from Skyfire and her new foal to him being a father. It didn’t take much to convince himself he was ready for fatherhood. Certainly Celestia knew what she was doing and he could just learn as he went.
There was still the matter of Luna, but all he felt he needed to do for Luna was earn her friendship. If anything else were to happen, and that was a big if, no doubt about it, it would happen later as a progression of their friendship. He would just be a very flirty friend when he felt he could get away with it, a loyal, devoted, dedicated friend when the situation demanded, and a loyal soldier when it was asked of him.
The door opened and the sounds of hooves behind Gosling made him turn his head. He saw blue in the corner of his vision. He turned his whole body and focused upon Luna. She was eyeing him, giving him a wary stare, no doubt still flustered by what he had done. He could see that she was a bit out of sorts. He found that he rather enjoyed seeing her in her flustered state.
“Hello, Luna,” Gosling said in a warm greeting. He saw her pause mid-step near the table, her eyes focused upon him, staring, and for a moment, her nostrils flared. She had a different beauty than her sister. Where Celestia was big and larger than life, Luna was big while remaining lithe, graceful, and she had a petite frame. Yet, as Gosling knew from experience, she was solid and quite heavy. She wasn’t fragile. She was still limping, but seemed to be undergoing some rapid recovery. He wondered if that was a property of alicorns.
“Good morning,” Luna replied as she recovered herself and sat down at the table.
“Lookee here, Luna, I has something to say.” Gosling leaned forwards over the table and kept his eyes locked upon Luna’s. He gave her a saucy eyebrow waggle and much to his amusement, Luna rolled her eyes as her ears twitched and flickered.
“Out with it.” Luna’s eyes narrowed.
“As your husband, I plan to respect every inch of your body, except for your lips. I’m kissin’ those any chance I get, because you gotta know that somepony loves you. You ain’t the type that can feel lonesome. But you ain’t gotta worry, ‘cause I ain’t gonna do anything else untoward or uncouth or put you into a bad position by telling you that you owe me something just because I’m your husband. You got that?” As he spoke, he saw a dark blush come over Luna’s cheeks, as dark as the deep purples of the sunset, and Luna’s eyes twinkled like the moon as it rose over silvery grey clouds into a sky full of stars.
“Your candor is appreciated,” Luna said after several long seconds of saying nothing at all. “I can agree to that, after all, we want my sister to be happy. That is our common goal and it is a worthy one.”
“Well,” Gosling began, “there is also the matter of your happiness, I’ve been givin’ that some thought. I’m thinkin’ that you could do with some happiness of some kind, ya know what I mean?” His smile vanished and he became quite serious looking.
“Is that thinly veiled innuendo?” Luna asked.
“Do I look like I’m playin’ around?” Gosling replied as the blush on Luna’s cheeks grew even darker. It was like spilled red wine on black silk sheets. Even her neck was now a deeper shade of blue. “A husband has an obligation to keep his wife happy. Or both of them. Or as many as he has. It’s something that he do.” Gosling’s thickening accent sounded more like he said, ‘It’s someting dat he do.’
What he did not know, was that his voice had the same power over Luna as it did her sister. He did not know how Luna struggled on the inside, fighting to keep her composure. Adding to this fact was that Gosling’s voice was now a somewhat deeper baritone, as his larger barrel gave him far more resonance, and a far more commanding voice. It was like butter—but not spread on toasted bread—and left poor Luna as a well buttered mare.
“The whole of the world is gonna see me romancing you in the same way I romance your sister.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to give those reporter bastards an in and give them a chance to say that you’re shunned, or that you’re not pretty, or attractive, or that I only love Celestia, no, see, because at some point, the papers are going to print some of just the right words and you’re gonna read them, and they’re gonna lodge in your heart like a splinter, see, and then all kinds of bad stuff will go down. And I ain’t gonna give that a chance to happen, ya dig?” He blinked, tilted his head to one side, and noticed Luna’s heavy breathing. “You okay, toots?” As he spoke, there was an audible gasp from the alicorn across the table.
“I’m fine,” Luna replied in a somewhat husky voice, “it is far too warm in here. Why must the heat be turned up so high? Cooler air keeps the humours in balance.” A scowl crossed over Luna’s face like sheep crossing the road as she began to fan herself with her wing.
The door opened and Gosling expected Raven, or Blueblood, or perhaps Cadance or Celestia, but it was just a pale green unicorn mare with a serving cart. She rolled it in and the room filled with the fragrant scent of coffee. Gosling’s mouth began to water and he saw a platter piled high with fresh made donuts. The moment the platter was set upon the table, he filched one, not caring if he was violating some bit of decorum that he wasn’t aware of.
The whole donut went into his mouth, which caused both the unicorn mare and Luna to stare at him as his cheeks bulged. He chewed for a bit, swallowed some of what was in his mouth, and then managed to get out the word, “What?” The serving mare rolled her eyes while shaking her head and Luna just stared at him through narrowed eyes.
Not caring about their disapproval, Gosling filched another donut. He was starving. He stuffed this one into his mouth, gobbling it down, and then began licking his now sticky fetlock with his long orange tongue.
As Gosling was getting himself sorted out, Raven entered, followed by Blueblood, who was helping Celestia along. Turning his head, Gosling looked over at the mare he loved while licking sticky glaze from his lips. She was squinting through narrowed eyes, as if the lights were far too bright, and a broad smile spread over his lips. He wondered if she knew and if she didn’t—how long before she noticed?
“Ooooooh, it is far too bright in here,” Celestia said in low whine, “turn down the lights.”
“Are the lights even adjustable?” Blueblood replied as he assisted his aunt. He looked around the room, trying to spot the light switch.
“Oh, never mind, I’ll be fine,” Celestia breathed in a somewhat nasal sounding voice. She did not sound the least bit majestic, not at all. She sat down beside Gosling with a huff and leaned against the table, unable to give a damn about decorum.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Gosling said to the alicorn sitting beside him.
“Gosling, now is not a good time to be a morning pony,” Celestia said, giving the love of her life fair warning. “Oh my head… ooooh… I’m going to have Cadance exiled, I swear.” Swaying back and forth, she reached up and began to rub her head with her right front hoof, which had no shoe this morning. She wasn’t even wearing her regalia or her crown, either. Clutching her head, she whimpered and let out a pained utterance.
“Please, she is rather dehydrated,” Blueblood said to the unicorn mare, “please go and fetch some juice or something, and hurry!”
Bowing her head, the unicorn mare hurried away, leaving her serving cart behind. Blueblood sat down beside Raven, slumped down in his seat, and yawned as he rested his forelegs upon the edge of the table. Beside him, Raven began to pour coffee.
Grinning, Gosling drew himself up to his full height beside Celestia, and much to his glee, he was noticeably taller sitting beside her. Oh, she still dwarfed him, but every inch gained felt like victory. Across the table, Luna hunched over her coffee, now looking sleepy as the sun began to peep over the horizon far to the east.
“I had some strange dreams last night,” Celestia said as she closed her eyes, still swaying from side to side in her seat. She reached out with her foreleg and touched Gosling, fumbling around for a few attempts before she found him in her blinded state. “Very strange dreams… I used my womb as a cannon… I was shooting out foals at high speed and knocking down ponies… I would cock my leg, point my backside, take aim, and let rip... it was a very strange dream. Poor Luna took one right to the kisser.” There was a pause before she continued, “The foals were like pillows… they were fine, unhurt from being launched.”
Celestia, who had her eyes closed, was being watched by everypony present with wide, staring eyes. Even Luna now appeared to be wide awake, at least for the moment. Raven took a sip of coffee, but since she wasn’t paying as much attention as she should have, some dribbled down her chin.
“I was annoyed about my condition.” Celestia swallowed and her voice sounded dry. “I didn’t want you touching me anymore, Gosling, as this was all your fault. Every time you got near me, I’d turn my backside towards you and shoot you with my foal cannon. It’d go off, rapid fire, and you’d be hit one right after another, until it knocked you down.”
Unsure of how to respond, Gosling grabbed another donut and began eating it. How did one reply to something like this, anyhow? He glanced over at Luna with pleading eyes, hoping for help, for assistance, he had hoped for aid from a fellow soldier in the trenches, but all Luna did was shrug.
“I shot one at Twilight… she flew away with it and kept it.” Celestia, her eyes still closed, rubbed her face with her hooves. “I’m having trouble feeling my face and my head feels like a balloon that is floating far, far above my body.” Celestia stretched out her cheeks, her lips, and contorted her face as though it was made of rubber. “Twilight never brought the foal back. She kept it and she was an adorable mother. For some reason, I didn’t mind that she had kept one of mine.”
Gosling blinked a few times and then ate another donut while staring down at the table. Blueblood was doing the same, staring down at the table, and Raven, never taking her eyes off of Celestia, grabbed a donut as well. Luna’s lips were pressed together into a tight line.
The door opened and the unicorn mare returned, this time with a tray that held several glass pitchers. She set the pitchers down upon the table, bowed, placed the tray upon her cart, and then hurried away, off to fetch breakfast.
Celestia’s eyelids parted just a tiny bit and she hissed as the piercing brilliance of the light stabbed her eyes. She forced her eyes to remain open, but she squinted, and kept her head angled down, away from the harsh overhead lamps. Raven slid a glass of orange juice in front of her, and the sounds of Gosling licking himself clean could be heard.
Everything felt far too weird and serious. Gosling was in far too good of a mood for weird and serious. He squirmed in his chair, unsure of what to do or say, but sat there and tried to think of some way to lighten the mood.
“After breakfast, you have a therapy session with Lumina Loveletter,” Raven said to Celestia as the white alicorn lifted up her glass of orange juice so she could drink it. Turning her head, she glanced over at Gosling. “You also have a session, right after Celestia’s, and then the two of you will be having a session together, so prepare yourselves.”
Nodding, Gosling eyed the donuts and thought about eating another one.
“I understand that Skyfire gave birth to an earth pony colt,” Raven said to Gosling.
Again, he nodded, his eyes never leaving the donuts.
“And that you were caught in the middle of a massive wild magic surge,” Raven continued in a low voice, all too aware that any sort of volume might overwhelm Celestia. “Something different about you, Gosling, but I can’t put my hoof on what it is.”
The colt grinned and looked over at Raven, but said nothing. He glanced over at Luna, and saw a faint smirk upon her muzzle as she poured herself some apple juice. He felt an itching in his wings, but he ignored it. The breakfast table was no place to go preening one’s wings.
There was a yawn from Blueblood, who then sipped his coffee. Half awake, he rubbed his cheek, scratched his neck, and then looked over at Raven. “You were wonderful last night, dear.”
A low giggle escaped from Raven’s lips as crimson crept over her face.
Feeling playful, in far too good of a mood to contain, Gosling grabbed another donut, but did not eat it. He held it in his fetlock, studying it, and then eyed Luna, wondering what he could get away with. Feeling cocky, being young, stupid, and full of youthful bravado, he decided that he could get away with almost anything. With a flick of his foreleg, he launched the donut at the coffee drinking alicorn of the night.
It arced through the air, a perfect parabolic arc, and with a muffled squish, the frosted donut landed upon Luna’s horn, skewering itself. It slid down and came to rest against her forehead. Blinking, it took Luna several seconds to register what had just taken place, and her eyelids blinked in a slow, confused manner as she figured it out. The slow blinks became rapid ones and her eyelashes fluttered like butterflies in a hurricane. Her head turned with a mechanical slowness towards Gosling, who was already wondering if perhaps he had gone too far. Pink frosting stood out in sharp contrast against the dark midnight blue of Luna’s horn. Her eyes crossed as she looked up at the donut resting on her forehead, with her horn protruding from the middle, then uncrossed as she began to glare at Gosling, her upper lip curling away from her teeth as she did so.
“He shoots, he scores,” Blueblood said in a somewhat sleepy voice, not sounding at all impressed. “But will he survive Luna’s retaliation? Doubtful… somepony will be doing an extended combat tour on the night patrol.”
The sound of Luna’s teeth grinding together could be heard and her face was like a furious storm cloud that roiled and churned as the storm gained intensity. As Luna seethed, the pressure building up so she could properly boil over, Celestia began to chortle. She slipped a foreleg over Gosling’s withers, pulled him close, and kissed him on the cheek.
“Hey, something different about you,” Celestia said in a low, confused voice, ignoring her sister’s theatrical, dramatic anger, “are you taller?”
Much to his surprise, Princess Celestia had an enormous goofy grin upon her face, which is not what Gosling expected to see when she came out of her therapy session. Not that he wanted her to cry or anything, or even be sad, but it just wasn’t what he expected to see. She was holding a slip of paper in her telekinesis as she pranced towards him.
“How did it go?” Gosling asked as he basked in the warmth of Celestia’s smile.
She held up the paper in front of her face and he could see her rose coloured eyes peering over the top edge. Her eyes glittered with mischievousness and… joy? It was hard to tell. He looked at the paper and saw that it was covered in Lumina Loveletter’s fine scrawl.
“I have a prescription for snuggles, cuddles, and kisses.” Celestia let out a very fillyish giggle and her eyes blazed with mirth. “I’m starved for contact and intimacy, Gosling. Turns out, I need love and affection like everypony else. Who knew?” Celestia let out a laugh and her wings bounced against her heaving sides. “That’s why I couldn’t orgasm when I was rubbing one out, Gosling. I’ve been alone too long and my body is starting to suffer and show physical symptoms due to loneliness and depression.”
“I see,” Gosling replied, and he wasn’t sure what else to say. She was still looking at him over the top of the sheet of paper she was holding up in front of her face. She looked very much like an oversized filly, and there was something about her, about how she was at this moment—and Gosling found himself consumed in his love for her. For some reason, he recalled the small stuffed princess doll he had once adored, and with his fond memories fresh in his mind, he knew that he wanted to have adventures with Celestia—happy ones.
“I got sick… I’ve been emotionally isolated for too long… as it turns out, I can’t successfully satisfy all of my emotional needs and maternal needs by living vicariously through others or by being a teacher and using my students as substitutes for what it is I really want.”
“And what is it that you want?” Gosling asked. As he spoke, the paper fell away from Celestia’s face and her smile vanished. “You can tell me anything, Heart’s Dearest.”
“I want to get better,” she replied in a low, somewhat squeaky voice, “I want to get better, I want to feel like a mare again, and then I want to make you a daddy. It might not be the right thing to do, at least not right away, and I can admit that, but it is what I want.” There was a long pause. “I am supposed to be more direct in stating what I want, starting today. She gave me homework, Gosling, can you believe that?”
“She does that.” Gosling blinked and nodded.
“I am supposed to be more vocal about my needs and I am supposed to ask you about looking after my emotional needs as practice, so I can start telling others about my emotional needs when I’m stronger.”
“Sounds like you had a productive visit,” Gosling said as he took a step closer.
“Gosling?”
“Yes?”
“It is very difficult for me to tell, because the drugs are altering my perceptions, but are you taller?” Celestia lifted her head, looked down, and then lowered her head. She tilted it off to one side, and eyeballed Gosling.
The colt laughed, lifted his own head, and gave the confused, somewhat addled alicorn a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “I have to go to my own session, I’m sorry. We’ll talk more, later, I promise. Go talk to Cadance or Luna if she is still awake, and you’ll find out more.”
“You are taller… it’s not just my eyes playing tricks on me…” The muscles in Celestia’s jaw clenched. “Mmmm, mmm, mmmph!” Her eyes widened and her ears pinned back against her head. “I need my prescription filled. I have a want, Gosling.”
“Soon,” Gosling promised.
“Won’t be soon enough.” Celestia did her best to look miffed. “Go have a good session. I’ll be waiting.” She frowned. “Oh drats, we have a session together… I guess I’ll be waiting a little longer. I need to be touched, Gosling… lots of touching. Touch me!”
Laughing, he kissed her again, then pulled away with a disappointed look upon his own face. Reaching out a wing, he caressed her neck, sidestepped around her, and then continued down the hall, leaving her behind. But then, he heard something that made him stop in place.
“I can’t help but wonder, Gosling, but did all of you grow longer?”
Having some time between sessions, Celestia got some cuddle time in with Cadance, who was all too glad to have company. The two alicorns, one white, one pink, lounged in the bed together while Flurry Heart played on the floor, stacking wooden blocks of various shapes and sizes into an elaborate castle.
Cadance, weakened, had trouble even lifting up her own head, and she lay with her head resting upon Celestia’s back, and her neck lay up against her aunt’s wing. Celestia lay in the pony-loaf position, with her legs tucked beneath her. It was nice being together, with no obligations, no responsibilities, and nothing expected of them but rest and relaxation.
“You really did find a diamond in the rough.” Celestia drew in a deep breath, her barrel expanding, and she let it all out with a soft, satisfied nicker, which was then punctuated by a snort.
“The surge scared me,” Cadance said to her aunt in a low voice, showing no trace of her fear or her many anxieties, because she didn’t want to worry her daughter. “I found myself inside of Gosling… in his mind… in his memories… I saw him as a yearling… I saw his whole life flash before my eyes.”
“Must have been quite an experience.”
Cadance closed her eyes and allowed her mind’s eye to fill with visions of what she saw. “It was.” There was a long, quiet pause, and then she added, “Destiny is a funny thing… some ponies were born, created with a specific purpose in mind. For a while, I doubted it, but as I grew older and learned more, as I watched Twilight grow up… as I watched Shining Armor become what he is… as I grew as an alicorn and began to feel the threads of destiny, my doubt vanished and I knew this to be true.”
“And do you believe that Gosling was made to love me?” Celestia asked in a low, hesitant whisper.
“I don’t know,” Cadance replied in a hushed voice. “Maybe? I’ll admit that it might be a possibility. I’ve never had a surge like this. I’ve never, ever felt my magic be this strong before.”
“I’m not sure what I believe, Cadance, but I choose to believe, I like to believe that some ponies…” Celestia paused for a moment, blinked, and tried to collect her thoughts, as it was very difficult to concentrate because of the drugs. “I think that some ponies are so determined to do the right thing, the necessary thing, that even if it wasn’t their destiny from the beginning, it becomes their destiny, because they choose for it to be so.”
“Can a pony really seize control of their destiny though?” Cadance asked.
The question was met with silence from Celestia, who watched Flurry Heart as the filly constructed an outer wall. After a long stretch of quiet contemplation, Celestia replied, “I don’t know. But I like to believe that they can. I don’t know if I’m right.”
“I still don’t even understand how my own magic works.” Snorting, Cadance rolled over onto her side and kicked out her legs. She flopped around, making a few feeble kicks, until at last she was comfortable, and then she went still, her head still resting against Celestia.
“As far as ascension goes, for me, it was a matter of reshaping the soul in the astral realms.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed as she turned her head to look at Cadance. “For you, it was healing magic fueled by love. The result is the same, but the magical means are different. I suspect that if Luna was to try her hoof at ascension magic, it would be triggered through dreams.”
“So a pony would go to sleep as whatever they were and wake up as an alicorn?” Cadance asked.
“Perhaps.” Celestia clucked her tongue. “It’s a guess, I have no way of knowing, but each of us has our own strength. You very nearly found the limits of yours. You’ve grown powerful, Cadance, so very powerful.”
Yawning, Cadance made a weak shrug. “My strength comes from others. Without love, I am nothing. Whatever strength I had last night, it came from those around me.”
Sighing, Celestia nodded. “You and Twilight are so much alike. She draws her power from friendship, you draw from love, the two of you are so different than Luna and I.” Then, after a moment of silence, Celestia added, “I wonder what Gosling would represent? He has a rubber duckie cutie mark… if he was to become like us, what would he draw strength from?”
“Hmm, I have a few ideas,” Cadance replied.
Yawning, Princess Luna struggled to remain upright and awake. A pile of legal documents was spread out before her, along with several hardbound books about law. A few candles lit her office, and while there was a window, it was not open. Heavy draperies hung in front of it, blocking out all traces of sunlight. At night, the draperies would be pulled open, allowing the moonlight to enter.
Looking up from her desk, Luna focused her steely gaze upon Blueblood. “Intriguing.”
Not hearing the words he had hoped to hear, Blueblood let out a snort. “These reforms are necessary. I am not restricting the freedom of the press, I am merely making a proposal that they be held accountable for, how shall we say, manufacturing a story.”
“We get that, We do,” Luna replied, “but errors can be made. These… reforms strike me as something that could be used for punitive purposes.”
“Well, they are intended as such,” Blueblood said in an impatient voice. “The press needs to be held responsible when they go out and create smear pieces, especially when they get some filly to lie for them.”
“We doth agree.” Luna gave Blueblood a faint nod. “But, We are concerned about these proposals. Holding the press accountable for their stories has become necessary, but We worry about the cries of restriction and abuse. Mine sister would never allow these to pass into law.”
“Which is why we are doing this now, while I am in power and your sister, my beloved aunt, is unable to protest.” Blueblood’s eyes took on a fierce, somewhat angry gleam. “This is my opening shot in the war that is about to take place. I am all for the freedom of the press, but they must be held accountable for what is written. They have an obligation to print the truth… should they deviate from the truth, it should be a criminal act and they should be held liable, just like any other criminal. Honest mistakes and errors are one thing, but we have the means to determine if it was an honest error, and in the case of Skyfire, that was no honest error. That was an intentional act of malice and is about to be dealt with as such.”
“We do agree,” Luna replied. “We do have the means to determine honest error from willful libel. We can discern mistakes from slander. The press should live in fear of falsehood and strive to remain in the light.”
“Yes, yes We will.” Luna’s voice was cold, unfeeling, and almost sepulchral. “It will cause much panic and terror… but those who print the truth will have naught to fear, while those who use the printed word to do harm will go scrambling. Let them. They should be scared.”
“Fantastic… I’ll have Seville draft up the press release at once. It was good of Gosling to find him. He’s the sort of reporter we need to have.” Blueblood, looking pleased with himself, allowed a smug smile to spread over his face. “I like being in charge.”
“The power has gone right to thine head,” Luna said as the ghost of a smile lurked upon her lips. “Blueblood… do not abuse this.”
“I won’t—”
“No, We mean it, Blueblood,” Luna said, the first hint of thunder showing up in her voice. “We know your heart and your hatred of the press! If you abuse this, if you ever, even once, use this to take petty revenge, We will be your undoing!”
Cowering in his chair, unable to speak, Blueblood gulped, swallowing his terror, and he nodded. Try as he might, he could not turn away from the fierce, glowing teal eyes of Princess Luna.
“Leave me,” Luna commanded, “go forth and do good in the world. For now, you rule the day. I have much to ponder about my future husband, the jovial ruffian that he is, and I desire sleep.”
Nodding, Blueblood got up and slipped away, never once taking his eyes off of Luna, and he backed up towards the door. As he opened up the door behind him, he heard Luna say, “You would do well to remain afraid, Blueblood, the fear will keep you honest. But do keep in mind that I love you and that you are dear to mine heart.”
Bowing his head, he gave Luna a smile, and then Blueblood slipped out the door.
It is said that, if you ever wish to get to know a pony, attend a therapy session with them. Gosling was getting to know a pony, that much was for certain. He lay, draped across a chair, trying to ignore the faint, almost unnoticeable ache that lurked deep within his ears, a little reminder of what had happened. A reminder of why he could not allow stress to rule his life and proof of what his therapist had said, ‘stress kills ponies.’
He glanced over at Celestia, who looked… troubled. She was sitting up on her haunches, looking down at her front hooves while she tapped them together, making nervous clippity-clop sounds, which sounded a bit like two coconut halves being banged together.
Lumina Loveletter looked calm, detached. She looked as cool and collected as she always did. At the moment, the pony was waiting for Celestia to say something, to respond, she was waiting for the white alicorn to bare her soul. Or just confess that she didn’t know what to say.
“I feel very guilty for everything I’ve put Gosling through,” Celestia said in a low voice, having found the words she had been struggling to say. “It’s hard, really, it is, to take somepony and just thrust them into this life. It… it is… it is part of why… it is part of the reason why I stopped taking suitors in the first place… I think… if I am to be honest. While some rose to the challenge, others succumbed to the pressure. It broke them. It hurt them. And I watched as those I loved suffered.”
“And this guilt… you carry it with you, even now?” Lumina asked.
“Well of course I do,” Celestia replied, sounding angry, but not angry with Lumina. “I suppose after a time, after watching it play out so many times during my long life, it just got easier to ignore my own needs and I justified it to myself as thinking of the needs of others. I was making a noble sacrifice.”
Gosling’s eyes darted from Celestia over to Lumina, and he saw something unknown flash upon Lumina’s face, some unidentified emotion. His eyes shot back to Celestia and he saw pain upon her face. In fact, the big mare looked as though she was about to cry.
“For many motivated individuals, for those who are compassionate, for those who possess strong traits of empathy, it is very, very easy to fall into the role of the martyr. They sacrifice themselves and all they have in the name of some great ideal or some necessary service.” Lumina’s brows knitted together and a deep crease appeared over her forehead. “Some even go a step further and punish themselves for thinking of their own needs. They withdraw. They isolate themselves. They become detached, sometimes, so much so that their body becomes far too conditioned to deprivation and self flagellation.”
“Conditioned?” Celestia asked.
Frowning, Lumina’s eyebrow arched and her ears stood up. “Their body becomes a willing participant in their own martyr complex and certain psychosomatic traits will manifest when the right stimuli is presented. Aches and pains when a pony feels too happy. A host of physical issues when life begins to go too smoothly. The inability to orgasm is a common symptom—”
“What have I done to myself?” Celestia asked, cutting Lumina off.
“Nothing that can’t be fixed.” Lumina gave the big mare a reassuring smile. “Time, patience, and a little help from those that love you. You can be reconditioned. Princess Cadance has been watching you for some time, watching, guessing, attempting to diagnose problems so that we could deal with them when you finally came around and became serious about getting help.”
With his own problems feeling insignificant, Gosling remained silent.
“So you are saying that if I were to to have an intimate moment with Gosling, I would be unable to”—Celestia cleared her throat in a demure and dignified way—“climax?”
“Is that so far fetched?” Lumina asked. “You have already seen the evidence of this with your own inability to self stimulate. Our emotions can alter what we feel, what we experience, they can alter the physical body.”
Closing her eyes, Celestia let out a sigh and hung her head. “I am more like my sister than I care to admit. Why must we punish ourselves… this is unbearable.”
Looking Celestia in the eye, or trying to, seeing as how Celestia was looking down at her own front hooves at the moment, Lumina cleared her own throat to get Celestia’s attention and then said, “We are a collection of our experiences. We are the sum of everything that happens in our lives, both good and bad. Trauma stays with us and shapes us as individuals. For you, this becomes an interesting problem, as you have lived for a very long time. You have seen much, experienced much, you have witnessed the fall of one civilisation and the rise of another. You have endured much upheaval, unrest, and have stared down those with nefarious intent, all to protect your ponies. And for the most part, you have borne this burden alone. A small bit of trauma can radically change a pony’s life, alter their perceptions, it can change their thinking, how they perceive the world… and you… you have endured no small amount of trauma. But you can no longer bear this burden alone.”
“Right.” Celestia nodded in agreement. “I need help. I want to love Gosling. I want to be with him. But I feel guilty for dragging him into this mess… into this messed-up mess that is my life, and I’ve already seen what it is doing to him and it is tearing me apart inside.”
“Eh, I gots better,” Gosling said with a dismissive wave of his hoof.
As a tear slid down Celestia’s cheek, she gave Gosling a faint smile. “So, enough about me and everything that’s messed up inside of my own head… I want to know what is so screwed up about Gosling so I can help him get better.”
There was a snort, followed by a burst of laughter from Lumina. “Well, there is the usual host of issues for somepony who has been through what he’s endured, the life he has lived, the social conditioning, and all those other factors, but one of Gosling’s most pressing issues is that—”
“I’m pretty,” Gosling said, beating Lumina to the punch.
“He’s vain.” Lumina raised her eyebrow and gave Gosling a stern glare.
“He’s a narcissist?” Celestia asked.
“Oh, stars no, nothing like that,” Lumina replied, shaking her head. “He has body image issues. He’s obsessed with physical perfection. He exercises, he preens himself, he pushes himself towards a difficult to maintain ideal, and all for the desire to be ‘pretty.’ Gosling’s self esteem is tied to his desire to feel pretty… which is why he can’t walk past a mirror without stopping to make certain that he is the absolute image of perfection. A narcissist is capable of only loving themselves, and Gosling is too good of a pony to think that way. He is genuinely concerned about the welfare of others. So he is not a narcissist, he’s just vain, and very much so.”
“What’s wrong with being pretty?” Celestia asked.
Ears twitching, Lumina sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment, her cheeks bulging as she eyed Celestia. She did not reply, withholding her words as she tried to think of an appropriate response.
“Yeah, that’s what I say… what’s wrong with being pretty? When a mare worries about how good she looks, that’s normal, but when I do it, there’s something wrong with me.” Gosling rolled his eyes and made cuckoo bird noises.
Sighing, Lumina rubbed her temple with her hoof.
“And to be honest, Gosling is very pretty… I mean, look at him, he’s gorgeous!”
“You know it!”
A single vein in Lumina’s neck quivered and convulsed. She rubbed her temple even harder and the corner of her other eye on the far side of her head away from her hoof twitched. Some ponies…
Eyeing Gosling, Lumina said, “Okay, back on subject… Celestia asked a question and she is owed an in depth and honest answer…”
A driving rain fell upon the city of Canterlot. The falling water flowed through the streets, cleaning the debris from between the cobblestones along with what little trash there was in the gutter, and everything was sluiced into the storm drains. The driving rain, which came down in a torrent, scrubbed the gleaming pink and white marble that made up so much of the city. Places that had been discoloured and stained by chimney smoke were restored by the cleansing rains.
The cloud that hung over the city was massive, terrifying even, and ponies who were scared of thunderstorms were advised to live elsewhere. Bolts of lightning came down with startling regularity and struck lightning rods, which were located on every roof, every cupola, every onion dome, there were more lightning rods in Canterlot than in any other city in Equestria.
Dense, almost impenetrable fog filled the streets, making it almost impossible to see. The fog was a living thing, a force of nature, the cold, chilly fog drove ponies indoors, into homes and cafes, it motivated them to seek shelter with loved ones, with friends, and prompted tea times and coffee breaks. Like the rain, the fog crept into every crevice, every crack, every nook and cranny, leaving the pale marble and alabaster of the city spotless, perfect, and clean, even if it did leave the cobblestones as slick as sheet ice.
In a city that was consumed by fog, assaulted by lightning, and pounded upon by rain, not every pony had common sense. At least two ponies were outside, playing in the rain, and splashing in the puddles. They frolicked in the courtyard of the castle, both were soaked, drenched to the bone, and laughing.
The larger, white and as beautiful as the pale marble all around her, kicked up her heels and bucked at the air as she tried to shake the kinks out of her spine. Her wings were spread and her feathers were soaked. The smaller, black and grey as the stormcloud above, pranced and pronked around the courtyard, leaping up into the air so he could land with a massive splash in the pooled and puddled water. His mane was plastered to his neck and his tail clung to his hind legs.
And then, much to the dismay of a certain pink pony, a third figure joined the two ponies frolicking in the rain. She was small, a foal, and she too, was pink. She giggled, she laughed, and she bounced around the white alicorn’s long legs.
With the rain hammering at him, Gosling watched as Flurry Heart and Celestia played together. His mane was clinging to his neck and his face, his ears were waterlogged, droopy, and the moment could not be more perfect. He extended his wings and let the rain soak into them, he angled them, twisted them around, trying to allow the rain to seep in. It felt good.
The guards were huddled in nooks and archways, trying to stay somewhat dry, but the wet always found its way in and Gosling knew this from experience. He waggled his dock and felt his tail tearing away from his legs, the water had made it clingy.
A brilliant flash dazzled his eyes and then a thunderclap made his ears ring. Nearby, a lightning rod glowed pinkish-white. Little Flurry Heart seemed unconcerned by the lightning strike that had happened just a short distance away. She too, had her wings out and she was absolutely drenched.
Laughing, Gosling flicked out his waterlogged wing at Celestia and slung water at her. He heard her gasp, her eyes went wide, and then she stood looking at him with a broad, beaming smile upon her muzzle.
“You got me wet!” Celestia shouted over the sound of the driving rain.
“Hey, not in front of the filly!” was Gosling’s good natured retort.
Giggling, Celestia’s face turned pink and her blush spread down her neck. She whipped out her own wing and sent a torrent of water at Gosling. Following her aunt’s lead, Flurry also began slinging water at Gosling, and also moved off to his right side to flank him.
There was another terrific lightning strike and this one struck a lightning rod on top of the tower next to the gatehouse. Strange ghostly images and weird fire lingered in the air after the strike, and even with the rain and fog, the stench of ozone was so strong that it made the nostrils burn.
Flurry, truly her mother’s foal, let Gosling have it for splashing her aunt. She flapped both wings, making swift chopping motions, and sent so much water at Gosling with so much force that he was forced to defend himself. He raised his own wings and used them as a shield, trying to protect himself from the stinging aquatic assault.
Celestia moved in so that she could attack, but things didn’t go as planned. Gosling intercepted her, and while still trying to shield himself from Flurry’s relentless assault, he pressed his soggy, rain-soaked lips against Celestia’s own waterlogged muzzle.
Ceasing her attack, Flurry watched as the two adults kissed. She was used to this, her Mommy and her Daddy did this all the time, they’d be playing or wrestling or doing something silly, and then this would happen. The filly giggled and stomped her hooves in the pooled water that filled the courtyard. Looking up, she watched as her aunt wrapped her sopping wet wings around Mistah Goose, who was going to be Uncle Goose soon enough, and hauled him in.
Turning her head, she looked over to where her mother stood watching, waiting out the rain. Mommy wasn’t feeling good, something about her magic. She looked back up at her aunt and gave herself a shake, sending water flying out in torrents. Her aunt was happy, and that made Flurry happy.
Laughing, Flurry Heart pranced and pronked over to where her mother waited, wondering if perhaps it was time to go inside, get all dried off, get warm, have a snuggle, and maybe have some cocoa. She glanced back over her withers and saw that the kissing was now getting super kissy-kissy-smooshy-smoochy-facey. Some grown ups just didn’t know when to quit and they overdid it. There was a fine line between the romantic bedtime story smooch shared by the prince and the princess when the evil bug queen had been defeated and what appeared to be two ponies trying to gobble each other’s faces. YUCK!
It was definitely time to go inside and spend some time with Mommy…
“It’s been a week since Auntie started therapy,” Blueblood said to Raven as she cinched the straps on his legs tighter, “and there are moments when she feels like a total stranger to me.” He took a deep breath and relaxed while Raven put the blinders on him and then let out a hiss when she swatted him just above his dock. “She does seem happier though.”
“Except for all of those times when she is crying,” Raven replied as she secured a crupper onto Blueblood’s dock and attached the strap to the blinder’s harness around his head, forcing his back to arch. She watched him squirm—that stinging slap just above his dock had tenderised him just so, leaving him receptive to the sensations caused by the crupper.
“Ooh… ooooh… this has been a stressful week.” Blueblood let out a moan as Raven secured him on his belly, and he had to wiggle to flex his spine enough to take the pressure off of his dock. He felt his front legs and hind legs being tugged in two different directions. “I do wonder though… why isn’t Luna taking therapy with them?”
Raven pulled out a long, thin riding crop that had a fine, bristled tassel at the end. She held it up in front of her muzzle, stared at it, and then nodded in approval. Old Number Seventy Seven would have to do. She waved it in the air, whipped it around, and then, without warning, she smacked it against Blueblood’s right front frog. She watched as his body tensed, he went rigid, but he couldn’t do much. She saw his nostrils flare, and then his steely gaze focused upon her.
“That was a good one…” There was a pause as Blueblood caught his breath, and then he added, “You just wait, I’m going to tear you a new one later, you peasant!”
“Silence!” Raven commanded as she brought Old Number Seventy Seven down upon the same spot she had just hit a second ago. She took pleasure in how Blueblood gritted his teeth, she felt her blood roaring in her ears, pulsing through her veins, and savoured it all with a sadistic smile. “Luna’s been in therapy for a while. It’s her choice if she wishes to join them. Right now, she wants to get herself sorted out.”
“Luna needs to be laid,” Blueblood said in a somewhat breathless voice, “it’s not natural to do without for so long—AAAAAAAARGH DAMNIT!” Blueblood winced as Raven brought Old Number Seventy Seven down upon his left rear frog, his blinders prevented him from seeing and he had no warning. “I swear, when I get out of this, I am going to string you up by your saggy teats with the brass clamps!”
Raven’s lips parted and she licked her teeth with her orange tongue. She lifted up a ball gag and slipped it over Blueblood’s muzzle before he had a chance to protest. She cinched it in place as Blueblood whimpered and squirmed.
Malice glittered in Raven’s eyes as she slid a long black latex boot over her right front hoof, the smooth, supple surface gleamed in the faint light of her horn. In her telekinetic field, she held up Old Number Seventy Seven and a bottle of Eazee-Entree lubricant. “There is no longer a safe word… now… now I make you my mare…”
Unable to contain herself, Celestia beamed. Today had been a wonderful day. Students were arriving and getting checked into school. Gosling, with Raven’s permission, had followed her to work. Well, not work exactly—she wasn’t supposed to be working—but meeting with a few foals wasn’t really work. It was relaxing, which was just what she needed.
Gosling of course had charmed them, made them laugh, and perhaps of more importance, had given hints as to what sort of father he might be. She was unable to help herself, the thought lingered in her mind with every interaction, every laugh, every foal that he took time with to make them feel special.
“Where is Luna?” Gosling asked as his impatient gaze fell upon the food. “I’m starving! This is torture! She knew that we were all supposed to have dinner together!” He squirmed in his seat and thought about digging into the olive tapenade. He leaned over and leered at Celestia. “If this keeps up, I’m going to resort to cannibalism…”
“Gosling!” She felt her eyes go wide and her ears stood up. Celestia’s heart went pitter-patter, thudding against her barrel. She wondered what part of her he would nibble on first—probably something tender. Reaching out with her wing, she gave the pony sitting beside her a gentle push-slap.
“Mmm, the best part… there’s a lot of meat on those wings—”
“Gosling, you are terrible… if you keep this up, I’ll excuse you from the table and send you to bed without dinner… you’re an awful, awful pony.” Celestia blinked, swallowed her smile, and did her best to look stern. “Really, Gosling, jokes about cannibalism are in such poor taste.”
“So are puns.” Gosling’s eyebrow raised as he grinned.
“You little dirty bird-horse! Look what you made me do!” Celestia let out a snort and cringed at her own unintentional pun. She made the mistake of looking Gosling in the eye and her mock-anger melted away. She had trouble remembering what she was making a big deal about. She leaned forwards, and in the same sort of voice that an excited foal inquired about Hearth’s Warming, she asked, “Are you excited about the engagement gala?”
The joyful, happy go lucky demeanour vanished and Gosling became serious. “I’m a bit nervous about it. Canterlot’s elite and a lot of the military brass are going to be there. I’m just a poor colt from the Broncs who just got lucky. I’m scared I’ll make a fool out of myself.”
“You’ve made a fool out of yourself before.” Celestia’s voice was teasing, but also affectionate. “You’re a very charming fool.”
“Eh, reporters are common, salt of the earth ponies.” Gosling shook his head. “I keep thinking about my duties in the future. Canterlot’s nobles are ponies I am going to have to work with. And the top brass… important ponies. Ponies I need to impress because I can’t do my job if they think I’m a featherbrain.” Turning his head, he focused his gaze upon a plate of cheese cubes and licked his lips.
“Gosling, darling, I know you are very worried about this, but I think you’ll be fine. Just don’t try to be somepony that you aren’t. I know it sounds cliche, but I think a young, poor colt from the Broncs is just what we all need right now. I know having you around has done me a world of good.”
“Thanks.” Gosling tore his gaze away from the cheese and gave the pony sitting beside him a sincere smile.
“We don’t need you getting stressed out again.” For a moment, all of Celestia’s joyfulness vanished and her ears pivoted forwards. The corner of her mouth twitched and she leaned over a little closer to Gosling. “Finding you that day… it was awful… I felt like it was my fault.” Nervous, Celestia’s eyes darted away when her voice cracked right after she said ‘awful.’ Unable to return her attention to Gosling, she instead stared at the silver and gold candelabra in the middle of the table.
“We talked about this… no more blame and no more punishing yourself.” Gosling lifted his head as high as it could go, reached out, and prodded Celestia. “You need punishing, yous and I, we go and we’ll borrow some toys from Blueblood and Raven. I’m sure they won’t mind sharing.”
For the second time this evening, Celestia was properly shocked. She stared agape at Gosling, and it took several seconds for her to reply, “Gosling, those are not the sort of toys that one shares.” She shook her head and wondered what she was going to do with the cocky little peacock she had chosen as her mate. She watched him shrug, then he laughed. Deciding that a little good natured revenge was in order, she whispered, “Gosling, if I so desired, I could drag you into a dungeon full of such toys, and spend the rest of your life instructing you in their many uses.”
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Shock, surprise, fear, she expected some response along those lines. What she did not expect was a salacious wink and Gosling’s demented giggling. She suspected, no, she hoped that he was just having a go at her.
Otherwise, she really would need to haul the perverted peacock off to the dungeon.
Before Celestia could think upon this any further, Luna entered, looking just a little bit cross. Gosling bounced out of his chair to greet her, and managed to get in one good smooch on her cheek before she slapped and shoved him away.
“Begone with you!” Luna commanded as she made her way to her seat.
“You’re late,” Gosling said as he too, took a seat. He sat at head of the table, with Celesta on his right and Luna on his left. It was a small, intimate setting, and Gosling was much more at ease. “I’m sure you had a good reason—”
“Art thou about to lecture your princess?” Luna asked as she gave Gosling an imperious stare.
“Yes.” Gosling leaned over to his left and got into Luna’s personal space.
Rolling her eyes, Luna let out a snort, shook, her head, and shoved Gosling away from her. “The only reason I let you live is because you make my sister so ridiculously happy… away from me, strutting bird.”
“Luna, you are a little late,” Celestia said.
Turning her head, Luna stared at her sister. “Preparations needed to be made for Gosling’s train ride tomorrow. With things being so lax around here, the proper preparations never got done.” She cleared her throat, glanced over at Gosling for a moment, and then focused an intense, harsh stare upon her sister. “Thou knowest me… everything must be done to perfection.”
“Indeed.” Celestia’s spoken word was muted. She drew in a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks, let everything out in a huff, and changed the subject. “It’s a good thing that this is a cold meal. Who’s hungry?”
“It’s just a train ride up to the Crystal Empire. Not a big deal.” Gosling grabbed the olive tapenade he had been eying and spooned some out onto his plate. He grabbed the flatbread next, and felt a sharp sense of disappointment when Luna grabbed the hummus. Being a pegasus with keen powers of observation, he noticed the two sisters exchanged a glance with one another as he spoke. Something seemed to be up, but he didn’t know what.
“I have selected two escorts for you, Gosling,” Luna said as she focused her attention on the pegasus beside her. “The first is a diurnal pegasus named Hotspur. Like you, he is from the Broncs. I thought it might be nice for you to have somepony to talk to. The other is a nocturnal pegasus with the amusing name of Hush. They will be your escorts. They are fanatically loyal to me and my interests, and my interests lie in keeping you safe.”
“Aw, you love me,” Gosling said as he took the hummus from Luna. He grinned as her cheeks turned purple. He saw her mouth open and he delighted in how flustered she looked. He was certain that he was winning her over.
“My sister’s happiness is paramount.”
“And what of your happiness?” Gosling asked.
“When she is happy, I am happy,” Luna replied as her face continued its intense purplefication. Flustered, she turned to her sister for help. “Make him stop teasing me! He is a prat!”
“No.” Celestia lifted up her flatbread, which was loaded down with delicious fillings, and green alfalfa sprouts poked out of the open end, along with little bits of pickled purple onion. She took a bite and then began to chew with a blissful look upon her face.
Torn between antagonising Luna and eating his food, Gosling chose to stuff his face. He was starving. It had been a long day and the wait to eat had been trying. He took far too big of a bite, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t a formal dinner anyhow, he was a pegasus trying to eat a flatbread sandwich without fancy magic. He smacked his lips and his eyes rolled back into his head as he gobbled down his food.
“Gosling… there is something you could do to make me happy,” Luna said.
Snapping to attention, he focused his gaze upon the Princess of the Night. For a moment, he thought he saw something in her eyes. Guilt? Worry? He wasn’t sure. But he knew he saw something. His mouth was too full to say anything, but he kept his gaze locked upon Luna.
“Gosling… keep your wits about you tomorrow… you know, in case there is trouble…”
The train, now on level ground, began to pick up speed. Gosling, wearing the silvered armor of the night patrol, tried to get comfortable on the bench he was sitting on, but his plate mail made it difficult. Giving up on getting comfortable, he consigned himself to just endure what was certain to be a very long ride to the Crystal Empire.
The sky couldn’t make up its mind if it was night or morning, it was still dark but the first hints of dawn could be seen if one looked out the window towards the east. The passenger train was full of ponies. There were quite a number of pegasi, a fair number of earth ponies, and even a few unicorns. Some were sleepy, some were sleeping, some were reading newspapers or books, while others just stared out the window.
Gosling looked at his companions. Seville sat on his right. The earth pony was bright eyed and bushy tailed. He was animated, excited, and almost seemed to vibrate in his seat. He had his press kit, his bag, and a stack of notebooks. Beyond Seville was Hush—a giant if ever there was one. Hush was so named because he never said anything. Gosling had been assured that Hush could talk if he wanted to, but the big dark, dusky blue stallion clearly didn’t want to, or had nothing to say. Hush was a bit more draconic than most of his kind. He had more scaly patches, he had long, terrifying curved claws growing off of the thumbs he had on the central knuckles of his wings, and he wore black goggles over his eyes to protect them from the light.
Hotspur sat on Gosling’s left. Hotspur was the one that Gosling was most curious about, as Hotspur was from the Broncs. The stallion was a little older, a little weathered, and his mane, what little could be seen beneath his helmet, was greying.
“So,” Gosling said, trying to start a conversation, “how did you end up in the night patrol?” He waited, uncertain if the stallion beside him would say anything. Gosling was bored already and hoped that some conversation would help pass the time. If all else failed, he could always talk to Seville about the news.
After several long seconds, Hotspur cleared his throat. “A long time ago, there was this pony, see, and he always tried to do good, he did. He was a nice pony, kinda quiet he was, and he married his secondary school sweetheart. They were young and stupid, but they made it work somehow.”
There was a scritchy scratchy sound as Seville set his automated quill in motion so that all of this could be written down. Hotspur stared at the quill for a moment, the corner of his mouth quivering, and then he made a faint shrug with his wings.
“So, this pony, he settles down, and he does the right thing, because he doesn’t want his dad blacking his eye. He’s married and he don’t go chasin’ no tail, ‘cause that’s wrong, and it’ll shame his mom and his dad. He gets a job in a furniture factory. It’s not much, but it’s honest work and has good benefits. He becomes a lathe turner and he makes legs for tables and chairs. And that’s all he does all day for eight hours.”
Reaching up, Gosling adjusted his helmet strap so it wasn’t so tight against his jaw.
“This pony, he becomes respected. In the neighborhood, other ponies know he’s good. He don’t chase no tail. He’s trustworthy. He’s respectable. He makes enough money that his wife, whom he loves, can be a stay at home mom. There’s now two little foals, a colt and a filly. The rent is breaking his back, but he’s managing somehow, only now, he’s working twelve hours a day.”
Turning his head, Gosling looked into Hotspur’s bright orange eyes and saw sadness.
“So, this pony, he comes home one day, but he’s early, see… there’s a problem at the factory. The steam main is busted wide open and none of the machinery works. So, he goes home, and he has flowers, and he’s planning on surprising his wife. He’s gonna take her out to dinner and thank her good and proper, for being a good wife, a good mother, and for keeping a good house. For doing her part.”
Hearing Hotspur’s story, Gosling felt his mouth go dry and he suspected the worst.
“So… this pony, he comes home, and what does he find?” There was a long pause from Hotspur, who drew in a deep breath before he continued, “I’ll tells yous what he finds… he finds the mother of his foals, his wife, under a stranger. It unhinges him, it does. Yes it does. He loses his mind right there on the spot. He has no memory of what happens next, see?”
Gosling blinked in astonishment and he heard Seville swallow.
“So this pony, he loses his mind, and he has no memory at all of killing his wife or the stranger pony that was screwing her while his foals were in the next room over. And it ain’t no regular killing either… no… it’s messy. This pony, he kicks and stomps his wife and the stranger to death, and then, still bloody, he goes into the bedroom where his foals are, and he holds them, and he cries, but he has no memory of all of this, see?”
For Gosling, cheating was just about the worst thing that could happen in a relationship. He felt sickened, disgusted even, but he also felt sympathetic. He could see the pain in Hotspur’s eyes, the grief, the sadness.
“Princess Luna herself got involved, after this guy keeps saying he doesn’t remember what happened during the police interrogation. Wardens got sent out. But Princess Luna, she hears this story, and she comes out to Manehattan herself to find out the truth. And she does… she finds out that the poor schmuck flipped his wig and lost every single one of his marbles for a little while. So it gets called ‘a crime of passion’ and this poor pony, he’s put on trial. He pleads for mercy, but admits to his crime, ‘cause even when everything has turned to horseapples, he still wants to do right. His mom and his dad are there with him every step of the way, trying to do right by him.”
Unable to help himself, Gosling wondered what his mother would do in this situation.
“Princess Luna, she overrides the courts and bypasses everything… she’s merciful, she is… she understands passion… she understands losing your fronkin’ marbles in a moment of blind, berserk rage. So… she offers this pony a choice. Life in a penal colony with clipped wings, or life in the night patrol, until such a time that he is too damn old to serve, and then he gets to go free. So this pony, he joins the night patrol, and now, he is sitting on a train, explaining how he ended up in this mess.”
“Damn.” That was all that Gosling could say. He felt his jaw muscles clench.
“The only consolation I have is knowing that my foals are with my parents. Her parents tried to get custody, but they were denied.” Hotspur let out a weary sigh and then a bittersweet smile spread over his muzzle. He reached up and adjusted his helmet, then turned his head to stare out the window.
“Do you mind if I print this?” Seville asked, “I’ve been collecting stories from soldiers and this is a story worth telling.”
“Bah, it’s been in the newspaper already,” Hotspur said in a dismissive voice.
“Yeah, but has anypony told the story from your point of view?” Seville’s voice was low, calm, and reassuring. The soft spoken earth pony stared at Hotspur, who stared out of the window.
Shaking his head, Hotspur let out a sigh… “No… nopony has told this story from my point of view.”
“Well,” Seville replied, “since we have time to kill, let’s change that.”
Watching as the world went by, staring out the window, Gosling listened to the exchange between Seville and Hotspur. Life in the Broncs… Gosling knew it all too well. It was a rough ‘hood filled with rougher, tougher ponies. But a lot of good ponies could be found there. It was one of the poorest districts of Manehattan, filled with slums, tenements, and factories that belched pollution everywhere. The ponies of the Broncs had their own way of talking, their own way of doing things, and their own special attitude. It was comforting, in a way, to hear the thick accent of the old ‘hood again.
Gosling’s mother did her best to avoid speaking this way, but even she slipped into it at times if she got worked up enough. She had tried to keep him from slipping into it too much, always scolding him for talking like a hoodlum. She had done her best to see that he was cultured, refined, and that he could present himself well.
Hotspur had no such filters and when he spoke, Gosling was reminded of home. Home? Well, it was home no longer, but it was the place where he had been born and raised. It had made him hard, flinty, and he knew that living there had something to do with him being a good soldier.
“Eeeh, when you grow up as poor as we do, yous get some different values. Your word means something. Being respected means something. You ain’t gots money, see, but you do have your good word and your respect.”
Nodding in agreement even though he was staring out the window, Gosling understood. He smiled a bit—hearing Hotspur say ‘values’ brought a rush of memories. Val-yoos. Gosling understood all too well. His own reputation had been irreversibly damaged by Skyfire and he couldn’t get no respect nowhere. Or maybe it was just the worries of some dumb colt that made far too much out of being accused of being gay. Maybe running away from home was overreacting. Maybe things would have turned out if he could have survived the razzing, the insults, and the constant harassment. He could have endured those things, perhaps, but the violence associated with it had gotten out of hoof.
“So there is a lot of value placed upon a pony’s word,” Seville said to Hotspur.
“We gots lots of earth ponies all living in one spot,” Hotspur replied, “and they’s all real honest sorts. Well, most of them. There are bad earth ponies.” Hotspur paused, closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head, then opened his eyes and continued, “But in general, these earth ponies, they’s good sorts. And then you have your pegasi, and we pegasi, we’ve been all about respect for a long time, it all goes back to our military traditions and our roots. And you has these ponies all living together, all packed together, yous gots thousands living on a single city block, and these values, see, these values all kinda get mashed together, so everything is all about your good word and being respected.”
“That makes sense.” Seville’s pen scratched out letters at a brisk pace to keep up with the words being said. “Hmm, now Gosling makes a little bit more sense.”
Hearing Seville, Gosling laughed hard enough to make his armor clatter but said nothing. He thought about Manehattan. Some ponies called it ‘the melting pot.’ A little bit of everything could be found in Manehattan, even though it was primarily an earth pony city. There was a whole lotta earth ponies in Manehattan, and the earth ponies there were good at making more earth ponies, or so it seemed to Gosling.
Gosling’s thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of the train slowing. He eyeballed the trees and the farmland around him, trying to see if his mind was playing tricks on him. No, the train was slowing. He looked over at Hotspur and asked, “Hey, I thought this was an express train to the Empire?”
“It is,” Hotspur replied, “well damn, this was a lot sooner than expected.”
A somewhat clever pony, Gosling began to think about Luna and Celestia’s behaviour last night at dinner, he thought of himself, his importance, and his future. It didn’t take him long to puzzle everything out as the train came to a grinding halt.
“I’m being used as bait, aren’t I?” Gosling asked.
“Yous is,” Hotspur replied.
“I don’t mind being used as bait, I’m willing to do my job as a soldier, but this train is full of civilians.” Gosling’s brows furrowed beneath his helmet and he shook his head as he began to feel angry.
“Let me stop yous right there,” Hotspur said to Gosling, “there ain’t no civies on this train. Everypony yous see is on the night patrol or in the guard… except we has some agents of S.M.I.L.E. on board.”
Before Gosling could ask what S.M.I.L.E. was, he noticed that the sky was filled with pegasi. They came out of barns, out of holes in the ground that had been covered over with canvas and camouflage, and sprang up out of trees. All of them were heading for the train.
“Hoowee… we’s about to has us a throw down.” A crazed, maniacal grin was smeared over Hotspur’s crooked, scarred face. “Remember everypony… look like soft, helpless civies when we get boarded. We only get to surprise them once.”
Seville, who was digging through his bag, pulled out not one, but two cameras, a camera brace for earth ponies, and a bandolier loaded with film. He slipped the bandolier over his body, strapped the brace to his neck, and mounted a camera on the brace. The other he clipped to the bandolier. A grim looking scowl was on his face. It was time to get himself a scoop.
All around Gosling, ponies cracked their fetlocks and he could see that they were preparing for mayhem. He had heard it said that something was wrong with the night patrol, and it was true. Every word said was true. Some of the ponies looked giddy and had to work to restrain themselves so they would not give away the surprise. For a brief moment, Gosling felt pity for whomever was about to board this train. There was a screech as the train came to a full stop.
“Gosling, yous needs to stay close to Seville here and keep him safe,” Hotspur said in a low voice. “I likes Seville, and I wants him to be able to tells my story when this is all over. So yous keep him safe, ya dig?”
“Ya, I dig,” Gosling replied, wondering how and why two pegasi were using earth pony slang. Da Broncs, dat’s how. “Seville, whatever happens, you stay close to me, okay?”
“Okay.” Seville nodded. “I’m about to become famous, aren’t I?”
“Yous is.” Hotspur grinned at the anxious reporter. “If yous bleed with us, yous is one of us!”
The sound of tinkling glass could be heard in another car. Gosling heard screaming. He had to tell himself that everything was fine and that there were no civilians on board this train—everything he heard was an act, an act to make the attackers drop their guard. He could feel the jitters setting in. Gosling was never one for violence, he never much cared for it, but he knew that it was unavoidable at times. He looked down at his body, thinking about how much larger he was since the night that Princess Cadance had surged. Larger, stronger, and no doubt, more capable. Plus, there was his combat training. He was no longer the scared colt in secondary school. He had passed combat camp and he had learned a little hoof-fu.
The door between cars opened and a pegasus strolled in, followed by an entourage of other pegasi, who all poured in behind him. He was tall, a pale, pale shade of green that could be mistaken for white in the right light, and had bright crimson eyes. Gosling looked into those eyes and felt something, but he wasn’t sure what. He saw cunning—dangerous cunning, and fervent dedication that could only be described as zealousness. He was dealing with a true believer.
“There he is,” the pegasus said, “the future prince. Come along quietly and nopony gets hurt. Do the right thing for your ponies, Your Highness.” The pegasus spoke in a sarcastic, mocking voice as he walked his way up the narrow aisle of the train.
“Hey, I have an idea,” Gosling replied with a grin, “how about we find you a screwdriver—”
“What?” The pegasus paused, his eyes narrowed, and he did not look amused.
“Oh, I was just thinking, you’re going to need something to unscrew yourself once this is over,” Gosling explained. When he was done speaking, he chuckled, and waited.
“I grow so weary of idiots,” the pegasus said in an exasperated voice as he glanced at his companion, who stood beside him. “Secure the future prince and see that he is gagged.”
“Yous is making a mistake.” Hotspur got up off of the bench and stood in front of Gosling. He smiled at the strange pegasus and pawed the floor with his hoof as Hush got up and stood beside him.
“Yes, my mistake was not bringing a pony to instruct you in better grammar,” the zealous looking pegasus replied. “Step aside and you won’t get hurt, you feebleminded, sentence butchering, halfwit.”
“Hey, yous know what, Hush? I don’t like dis guy.” A dangerous toothy grin spread over Hotspur’s muzzle as he took a step closer to the stranger. “What if I told you that you are about to have your ass kicked?”
“Then I would say that you are delusional,” the pegasus replied. “There are over a hundred of us. We’ve secured the locomotive. We have control of the train. And what do you have? An idiot prettyboy—”
“Hey, I’m not an idiot!” Gosling retorted from behind Hush. “But damn, I’m pretty! You gotta recognise!”
“As I was saying, an idiot prettyboy, two escorts, and what appears to be a reporter. Ask yourself if your misplaced, moronic ideals are worth dying for, before you utter another wasted word.” As the strange pegasus spoke, more pegasi swarmed in through the other door of the train car, leaving Gosling and his companions surrounded on both sides.
“Your mom thought I was pretty too,” Gosling said with a laugh, “a pretty good lay.”
“I am stunned by your maturity… our future prince, ladies and gentleponies.” The zealous pegasus looked at the passengers sitting in the benches. “This is the pony your princess selects as a husband. Are you not appalled?”
“Hey, dat’s low, coming from a walking contraception advertisement… see, dis is what happens when you don’t pull out in time… you get this cumstain conceived, failed butterknife abortion over here.”
“Ooooh daaaaayum!” one of the passenger ponies said.
The zealous pegasus’ eye began to twitch. “Secure the prince and carve out his tongue!”
It was hard to tell what had happened next exactly, but things had become interesting. Gosling found himself in a fracas. He had never been in a fracas before. He had been in melee, he had been in combat, he had been in a slobberknocker, but this was his first all out fracas.
Much had changed for Gosling. He was no longer the gawky colt that he had been in high school. His guard training had been quite thorough. He thought about this as he headbutted a pegasus attacking him, smashing his helmeted head into his assailant’s unprotected skull. He was dizzy from the sudden movement and he felt swimmy headed, as if he was drunk. He recovered, turned his head, took aim, and bucked another pegasus in the face. He struck with so much force that it surprised him,
Bodies swarmed around him, the combat was thick and chaotic. He stayed near Seville and the earth pony was busy snapping pictures of the brawl all around them. Gosling clobbered another pony that lunged for him and kept himself between Seville and danger.
“He’s got a camera! He’s seen our faces! Get the camera!”
There was a rush of bodies and Gosling braced himself. More of the night patrol spilled into the train car to join the fray. The sounds of terrific violence could be heard all around him. Hush moved through the attackers, stabbing and slashing them with his claws, headbutting them, and stomping them.
Hotspur was mincing his foes. He moved with the steady, confident balance of a seasoned veteran. His grin was bloody and scarlet liquid streamed from his nostrils. He kicked, bucked, stomped, and smashed his enemies.
One of the attackers ripped up one of the benches, held it in his fetlocks high over his head, and smashed Hush over the helmet with it. The big pegasus turned to face the head smasher and he let out a snort that could make a buffalo jealous.
“I’m sorry,” the pegasus said as he backed away after he dropped his makeshift weapon.
Hush, who was a firm believer in the old adage of, ‘sorry don’t always make it so’ punched the pegasus, who went flying through the window. The glass shattered, tinkling into hundreds of tiny shards, and the pony who went through the window was cut to ribbons.
The nocturnal pegasus was done playing nice.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAA!” A cream coloured earth pony cartwheeled through the melee, landed on her front hooves, and powerbucked a pegasus that was creeping up behind Gosling. Her hind legs scissored, one going left, the other going right, and she kicked two other ponies that were too close to Seville, trying to get his cameras.
Much to Gosling’s surprise, it was Bon Bon, the candy maker he had delivered the dispatch to. He shoved one of his attackers towards her and watched as she delivered a vicious chop to his wing. He heard bones breaking—it was like a pony chewing up a big mess of celery. He cringed. The candy maker was mean.
Inspired by Hush’s failed attacker, Gosling pulled up a bench and swung it with as much force as he could muster at a pony trying to kick Bon Bon. He swung with too much force—the bench shattered in his fetlocks—and the pony fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
There were a lot of benches left. He ripped up another one, took aim, and swung for a pony that had just kicked Hotspur. He scored a glancing blow with the hard edge of the bench right below the pony’s ear, and struck with enough force that the pony’s cheek split open.
The fracas was getting bloody now.
Broken glass was under hoof and it crunched under Gosling’s armored frogs. Seville was standing up on a bench to avoid the broken glass. The invading pegasi were not so lucky. With each step, they trod upon the sharp slivers and shards of broken glass, leaving them with bloodied hooves and shredded frogs.
As Gosling moved to attack a pony, there was a bright flash from Seville’s camera, and then Gosling found his movement restricted. Something tugged on his leg. He found that one of the attackers had slipped a shackle around his left front hoof. Rearing up on his hind legs, Gosling wobbled, his balance was still poor, and with a jerk of his left leg, he dragged his would-be captor over to him.
As his captor slid over the broken glass, Gosling met his face with a mean right hook. Blood spurted as the pegasus’ lip split open. Gosling pounded him again, and again, and then looped the long chain around the pony’s neck and began to strangle him. Something struck him in the side, but his armor absorbed most of the blow. When another pony tried to buck him, he yanked the pony he was strangling in front of him as a shield.
Hush lunged, his maw opened wide, and he bit through the chain that connected Gosling to his would-be captor. Snarling, Gosling shoved the pony he had been choking away from him, and he bowled over several ponies trying to get to Seville.
Hearing a cry from Seville, Gosling whirled about just in time to see that a group of hovering pegasus ponies were trying to reach through the broken window to grab him. The earth pony had been sliced open by the jagged shards of glass jutting up from the window frame.
Without hesitation, Gosling moved to help his friend, not thinking of his own safety. He grabbed Seville with his forelegs and tried to pull him back in. His armor protected him from the glass raking at his belly, but ribbons of crimson trickled from both of his wings, soaked into his feathers, and pooled on the floor.
He braced his hind hooves against the wall and yanked, pulling as hard as he could on Seville. Something heavy struck his helmet and his ears rang like a bell as starbursts blossomed in his vision. Something struck him again, and then a third time. He was having trouble holding on.
Somehow, Seville was still taking pictures, getting every unbelievable moment on film. Gosling collected his wits, but he felt his grip slipping on Seville. He heard a pained cry from his friend and something about the sound drove Gosling to rage. He snarled as his inner pegasus awoke. For the first time in his life, he felt it, something savage and primal. His bestial nature had awakened from its long, pleasant hibernation, and it was pissed.
He didn’t try to pull Seville in, he shoved Seville out, and Gosling launched himself through the window. He drove his armored hoof into a powerful uppercut, snapping Seville’s captor’s head back, and the pegasus plummeted to the ground. Gosling lashed out sideways in a fearsome double kick, just as his instructor had taught him. His armored hind hooves connected to the gut and groin of one of Seville’s captors. A fine red mist filled the air between the pegasus’ hind legs, and he too, dropped down to the ground. Gosling grabbed his friend in his forelegs and flew upwards with him.
Not knowing what else to do, he landed on the roof of the train car and set Seville down. Already, he had company. He stood, waiting, his lip curled back in a snarl. Seville lay in a bloodied heap, but somehow, the earth pony still had the presence of mind to take pictures.
Help arrived, Bon Bon landed with a flip at the far end of the train car and hurried over as enemy pegasi circled overhead. Hush came crashing through the broken window, sending glass and splintered wood flying. He rose up into the air, his leathery draconic wings flapping, and with a thunderous, terrific crash of metal on wood, he landed on top of the car.
With a golden flash, another pony appeared, a minty green unicorn.
Seville was covered in a golden bubble as the minty green unicorn raised a shield around him. She stood in a defensive crouch, scowling, her bright golden eyes flashing with anger. When one of the flying enemy pegasi got too close, she blasted him with a powerful pyrokinetic blast that set his wings on fire. Fire and roiling black smoke streamed from the pegasus as he crashed into the field beside the train.
Launching himself upwards, Gosling grabbed an attacking pegasus’ head between his front hooves and then smashed his helmeted head into the unprotected skull of yet another victim. There was a wet crunch and bright red blood spewed from now misshapen nostrils as the pony fell to earth.
Hotspur was up on the roof now, fighting, and more of the attacking pegasi swooped down. The green unicorn took potshots at them, hitting some, missing others, and Seville never stopped taking photographs.
Hearing wings behind him, Gosling whirled around just in time to catch a powerful two-hoofed buck to the face. While his helmet protected his head, it was open faced, and didn’t offer much protection. Stars swirled in his vision and he had trouble telling which way was up or down. He plummeted to the ground below and smashed into the dirt back first as a swarm of pegasi all went for him.
Four little alicorns circled around his head, all of them looked worried. No, five alicorns. One of them was smaller than the others and he had trouble seeing her. He lay on his back, gasping, blood pouring down the back of his throat and choking him.
“Get up!” Tiny Celestia urged as she circled overhead.
“Don’t give up!” Tiny Luna added.
“Be brave!” Little Cadance said.
“You okay, Mistah Goose?” Itty Bitty Flurry Heart asked in a worried voice.
“DON’T JUST LAY THERE, GO KICK THEIR ASS!” Pint Sized Twilight bellowed as she cupped both front hooves around her mouth. “GET TI-REKKED!”
Pint Sized Twilight had the right idea. Gosling rolled himself up onto his hooves and spat out an enormous wad of phlegm mixed with blood. With a flap of his torn, bloodied wings, he launched himself into the air to meet his rushing attackers. With his balance issues, and having just taken a smash to the face, Gosling had trouble maintaining stability in the air. Lacking finesse, he slammed his armored body into an oncoming pegasus and heard the crunch of delicate wingbones.
“Punch this one in the crotch!” Pint Size Twilight hollered before she vanished into nothingness.
Being a good soldier, Gosling obeyed the commands of the now nonexistent princess. He uppercutted the pegasus that was flying down to attack him. There was a high pitched howl, a wet, meaty sounding splat, and the pegasus, who doubled over while clutching himself, fell out of the sky. He smashed into the edge of the train roof, spine first, bent into an unnatural angle, and then fell to the dirt with his body twisted in a way that was normally impossible.
Landing on the roof, Gosling realised that the attackers were thinning out. He limped a bit as he stood beside Hush. He was worried about Seville. Beneath him, inside of the train, he could hear the sounds of fighting. There was lots of screaming, cries of pain, and pleas for mercy. The night patrol weren’t ones for mercy. The monsters they fought had no concept of mercy or quarter, and this had made the night patrol a mean, unforgiving bunch.
Hotspur, his hide and armor bloodied, both with his blood and that of his enemies, scanned the countryside, trying to get a good view to check if there were any reinforcements coming in. He stood with one wing over his eyes like a visor, trying to see, while other members of the night patrol beat down any other ponies trying to attack the roof.
There was a massive explosion and the next car down the line burst into flames. Burning wood and glass flew in all directions. There was shouting, but Gosling and the others could not make out what was being said, as their ears were ringing. Seville had somehow managed to capture the moment on film.
“I’m guessing they brought dynamite as a back up!” Hotspur shouted. “Perhaps to blow a bridge if we got away.” The bloodied pegasus banged his own helmet as he tried to get his ears to stop ringing.
As Hotspur banged his helmet, there was another explosion, this time further back on the train. Another car was blown into slivers of glass and flaming splinters of wood. Smoke rose up into the sky in a black column.
Just as Gosling was about to say something, the locomotive exploded. The whole train shook and shuddered, and then Bon Bon let out a frightened cry as the cars ahead began to fall over, one after the other, as one tipped over it caused the next one down the line to do the same.
As the tumbling train of consequences approached, Gosling grabbed Seville, Hush grabbed both Bon Bon and the minty green mare, and Hotspur launched himself up into the air with the others just as the car they had been standing on was yanked over.
There would be no trip to the Crystal Empire… not today.
Worried for his friend, Gosling stood over Seville, watching as a medic began the labourious task of patching up the bloodied earth pony. Gosling gave no thought to his own wounds. All around him, his fellow soldiers were helping the wounded and rounding up the attackers. Pillars of smoke rose up into the sky and the acrid stench of things burning made everypony’s eyes water.
“I want recon patrols established immediately!” Hotspur barked. “I want these farmhouses around here checked! We need to know if those families are okay! Establish a perimeter! These pegasi came in hard and fast so check everything for a one wing radius!”
“Aye aye, Captain Hotspur!” a pegasus replied.
Turning to face his new friend, Gosling looked Hotspur in the eye. “You never told me you were a captain… I failed to address you as my superiour officer—”
“Stow it, soldier,” Hotspur said in a commanding voice. Some of his accent was gone, but not completely. He surveyed the world around him with a steely-eyed gaze, and his rage burned in his eyes like live coals. “You need to get some blood-stop on those wings.”
“I’m fine.” Gosling extended his wings and took a look. He didn’t like what he saw. Deep cuts, missing feathers, some of his injuries were gruesome to look at. Perhaps it was worse than he thought. With his adrenaline so spiked as it was, the pain seemed numbed, distant, but he was feeling it now that he looked at it. His lip curled back from his teeth as he hissed.
“Princess Luna said she would give me lashes if I failed to look after yous.” Hotspur spotted a medic hurrying along and shouted, “Hey, ya mug, yous get over here!”
The unicorn hustled over to Hotspur, who pointed at Gosling. Seeing Gosling’s wings, the unicorn pulled out a cannister of blood stop powder, and right away, he began sprinkling the powder over Gosling’s wings, applying a heavy dusting. Gosling sneezed.
The styptic powder had a marvellous cooling effect and Gosling’s wings now felt chilly. He stood with his wings out, extended, allowing the breeze to blow against his ribs. He felt a little shaky, a little dizzy, and his head was starting to ache. His wings were now dusted with white and streaked with crimson as the trickling blood scabbed over. Grooming his wings later was going to suck, of that there could be no doubt.
“Captain!” an earth pony shouted as he came running up. “Good news! We’ve made a very important capture!” The earth pony was breathless, his sides were heaving, and his eyes were glazed over with pain. “He’s still being subdued. He’ll be brought to you in a hot minute!”
“Good job,” Hotspur replied.
Turning his head, Gosling looked over at Bon Bon, who was getting a nasty gash wrapped up in gauze. He stared at her for a moment, and then, in a low voice said, “I’m guessing that you aren’t a candy maker.”
“Oh, I am,” Bon Bon replied, “but I am also special agent Sweetie Drops.” She gave Gosling a weary smile as the medic continued his work. “You delivered the very dispatch to me that told me to be prepared for this trip. It’s nice that Princess Celestia has found somepony to love.” The mare looked over at her green unicorn companion, and saw that she was busy binding somepony’s wounds. “That’s special agent Lyra. We’re both agents of S.M.I.L.E. You can expect to be hearing from us soon, Private Gosling. Ex Ignis Amicitiae.”
“Wait, yous is from the signal corps?” Gosling looked at the mare with unabashed astonishment.
“No,” Bon Bon replied, “but that is where we do about ninety nine percent of our recruitment.” She turned to look at Gosling. “Every now and then, we find a pony that makes for a worthy agent that isn’t from an intelligence background, and we recruit them. Like my friend, Lyra.”
“Wait, what’s this S.M.I.L.E. thing?” Gosling asked.
“You’ll find out soon, Private Gosling.” Bon Bon gave Gosling a wink, a nod, and a smile.
Lifting his head, Gosling watched as patrols began to take off. The situation was coming under control. A guard was being posted around the ruined, derailed train. Unicorns were using suffocation spells to put out the fire. There were times that Gosling envied magic. A simple air tight shield bubble spell that had all of the air inside of it sucked out had a wide variety of applications, and not just for subduing ponies.
Looking over to his left at the sounds of a struggle, Gosling saw a familiar pony being dragged through the dirt towards Captain Hotspur. It was the pony who had demanded that his tongue be cut out. Unable to help himself, Gosling laughed. It wasn’t a haughty laugh, or even an arrogant laugh.
One of the pegasi that was dragging the prisoner stopped and saluted Captain Hotspur. He stood, a rough grin upon his scarred face, and when the prisoner snarled, the pegasus kicked him in the face, causing the captured pony to groan in pain.
“Captain Hotspur, I present you with former Captain Tarbean.”
“Look alive fellas, we has ourselves a traitor here.” There was something mean and dangerous sounding in Hotspur’s voice, something unpleasant that held the promise of violence. And not common, garden variety violence, but terrible, horrible, awful inner city violence. There were no curbs here, but the rails might do in a pinch.
The prisoner stared up, his eyes glittering with hatred. The two pegasi glared at one another, both of them seething, each of them had murder in their eyes. Hotspur looked away and turned to face Hush. After a moment, Hotspur’s gaze fell upon Gosling. After short time spent in thoughtful contemplation, he returned his attention to the prisoner, known as Tarbean.
“This changes things,” Hotspur said in a low, quiet voice. “You ain’t some civie that we has to subdue. No… you's a turncoat and a traitor. Oh, we’re gonna do things to yous… bad things. Real bad things. We has our own way of doing things in the Broncs, don’t we Gosling?”
Stepping forward, Gosling nodded. “Captain, do we has a padlock and a pillowcase?”
“No,” Hotspur replied, “We has a Hush though.”
“That’ll do, Captain.” Gosling’s teeth clinched and the muscles in his jaw clenched.
“Ain’t nothing worse than a turncoat and a traitor,” a nearby earth pony said as she stood watching. She stood in the middle of a growing crowd of bloodied, battered looking hard cases, all of whom looked hungry for more violence.
“We need him alive,” Bon Bon said in a fearful voice.
“Don’t get your tail in a knot.” Hotspur’s wings flapped against his sides. “He’s gonna live… but he ain’t gonna wanna live.” Hotspur looked over at Hush and gave a nod. “Hush, see that he is made cooperative.”
No sooner had the words left Hotspur’s mouth than the big draconic hybrid pony responded. A wing shot out, unfurling with terrific speed, and the end of it connected with the side of Tarbean’s face. The prisoner rolled over, writhed on the ground, but didn’t make a sound.
“We has ourselves a tough guy here.” Captain Hotspur frowned, shook his head, and then spat on the ground near where the prisoner kicked and twitched. He stepped back, glanced over at Bon Bon, who was now scowling, and then returned his attention to Tarbean.
“You turned against the sisters… why?” Gosling demanded.
Not far from Gosling, Seville snapped a picture and an automated quill was scratching down every word said into a notebook. The bloody, battered earth pony had a look of grim determination upon his face, and there was anger as well. He had suffered at the hooves of the attackers.
There was no answer from Tarbean and this made Gosling angry. Hotspur, seeing anger on Gosling’s face, made a gesture at Hush. The big draconic pegasus stood over Tarbean and began prodding the prisoner’s back, just behind his wing joints. After a few pokes, he smashed his hoof right into the tender place between the ribs and the hip bones, and just below the spine.
This time, Tarbean shrieked in agony as his legs kicked and scissored. He let out a pained wail, which subsided into wheezing, gasping panting as he curled up into a fetal position.
“Future Prince Gosling asked yous a question. Yous would be wise to answer. Hush, if this clown don’t answer, I want you to do that again.” Hotspur let out a cruel, heartless sounding laugh. “He’s gonna be pissing blood for a week.”
“Hey…” Gosling found himself in an odd position. As much as he hated the pony laying on the ground, this felt wrong. He didn’t like the way Bon Bon was staring at him and he didn’t much care for the look of disapproval on her face. Gosling took a step forwards and stood beside Hotspur. “No more of that… if we start torturing them, they’ll start torturing us, if they capture us.”
“They already do,” Hotspur replied as he scowled at Gosling. “One of our scouts had his feathers plucked.”
Rage bubbled through Gosling’s mind and in that moment, he knew that if he gave the order to have Tarbean beaten or killed, the soldiers present would rush to do it. It bothered him that he was tempted. He thought about the attack, he could smell the burning, the stench of blood was heavy in the air, and the former Captain Tarbean had turned upon the sisters.
“Why did you do it?” Gosling asked. “What did you think you would accomplish? Do you understand how stupid you are? Seville didn’t even need his camera… Princess Luna could go into any of our minds and discover just what your faces look like, and your voices. You’ve picked a fight that you can’t win.”
“And that is why we fight,” Tarbean said in a weak, whimpering voice. “This is tyranny… we have no choice but to obey them… to do everything they say… we have no means to resist them… we have no means tell them no. The sisters rule over us all, whether we want them to or not. We have no choice, we have no voice, we have no option but to do as we are told… and that is tyranny. There will never be equality as long as they continue to rule… the three tribes were united and sought equality, but one tribe still remains above the others.”
“You don’t even understand what the sisters protect us from… they’re not tyrants,” Gosling replied, shaking his head. “We are free to do as we please. They’re not holding us down. We have our own sense of agency.”
“Not from where I see things, even now, I am being oppressed—”
“You just attacked us and probably killed a bunch of your former brothers and sisters!” Gosling snapped. For a moment, he was certain that he was going to lose his temper, he was positive that the command to have Tarbean beaten or killed would slip out of his mouth. He took a step back, sucked in a deep breath, and fell silent. This was not a time to debate politics.
“This whole equalist movement is a bunch of bunk.” Hotspur shook his head. “What it really is, is a thinly veiled pony supremacy movement that has managed to con a bunch of weak minded idiots into believing Starlight Glimmer’s misguided notions about equality. Yous guys hijacked her movement, twisted its already messed up ideals, and then yous made it worse. Now you prey upon the weak minded, the morons, the soft headed types, yous feed them this stream of garbage about equality and tyranny, and you’s advancing your own messed up agenda, hoping to somehow gain your own private little kingdom.”
“They believed that by capturing Gosling, they would have a bargaining chip.” Bon Bon moved to stand beside Gosling and she looked down at the prisoner. “You wanted concessions, a platform to make a statement, and an exchange of captured prisoners. You believed that Princess Celestia would agree to your demands so that you would return the one she loves.”
Turning his head, Tarbean glared up at Bon Bon, hatred visible in his eyes.
“You go out and you recruit among the homeless, the helpless, and the desperate. It was easy to infiltrate your little cult. It was easy to locate your cells. We have agents everywhere. You aren’t as clever as you think.” Bon Bon gave the pony on the ground a sad shake of her head. “You’ve made deals with the crime families of Manehattan. You’ve conspired with others. And I’m almost certain that with enough time and effort, we’re going to find ties between you and the press… your goal is instability. By making the sisters look bad, by making them look like they have no control, or that their control is slipping, you can draw more and more ponies to your cause, a cause that leads to a dead future, a dead world, as there is no life and no world without the sisters.”
Gosling’s eyes narrowed as he pondered Bon Bon’s words. This was a different sort of war and it didn’t have conventional battlefields. If this was going to be fought, then the conditions that made ponies receptive to the messages of the equalists would need to be addressed, to be dealt with. Poverty would need to be addressed. The homeless, the helpless, and the desperate would have to be dealt with. The causes would have to be addressed.
A few unicorns went around cleaning up dangerous shards of broken glass. Patrols landed and took off with metronomic regularity. The wounded and the dead were being dealt with. The prisoners were now shackled and under guard. The guard brought order to chaos in very much the same way ponies also brought harmony to the disharmonic world around them.
In the middle of all of this managed chaos, Gosling watched everything, taking it all in, and he was coming to terms with the new reality he found himself in. Never again could he risk riding a train, not a civilian one. Sure, he might be able to ride the train and nothing might happen. He could ride the train a dozen times and each time, nothing might happen. But once something did happen, once somepony did something to strike at him or the princesses, there would be another day like today, or maybe worse. It was a sobering thought.
But it was not a crushing thought, nor was it a depressing thought. Gosling felt a grim sense of acceptance. This was the cost of his happiness. He couldn’t change it. This was the world he lived in. The best he could do was accept it and then try to make things better.
“Sir, more ponies were captured in a nearby farmhouse,” a pegasus reported to Captain Hotspur and offered a snappy salute with his wing. “They had the family hostage, but they surrendered. No harm was done.”
“Good.” Hotspur’s terse reply also came with a salute. The pegasus took off at once and the captain watched as he flew away. Hotspur looked tired and his eyes were watering from the smoke.
“We’re not monsters,” Tarbean said from where he sat shackled a few yards away.
“Say again?” Hotspur asked.
“We’re not monsters,” Tarbean repeated, “I realise that the events of today will have coloured your perceptions of us, but we’re not monsters. We don’t want senseless killing. We don’t want to hurt ponies. We wish to liberate them.”
“Horseapples!” Hotspur spat out the word and glanced over at Hush, almost as though he was about to give the command for the big brute pegasus to silence the prisoner. “Whatta load of horseapples! Yous brought over a hundred ponies to try and capture future Prince Gosling today!”
“And we did it with good intentions. We brought ourselves in such number so that we could pacify the crowd. Reduce the number of ponies who might try be heroes. Overwhelming odds tends to make a brash pony reconsider. If anything, it is you who came prepared to do violence, bring harm, and kill your fellow ponies today, all at the bidding of the sisters.”
“Getta load of dis guy!” Hotspur gritted his teeth together for a moment and stomped a hoof. “Hey, wiseguy, do you know why the guard had to be called out? Because some buncha assholes went and blew up a bridge! And those assholes, they had to be dealt with!”
Tarbean’s head dropped down low and his ears drooped. “I never approved of those actions. I spoke out against them. I tried to tell them that such rash action would only hurt our cause.”
“Fronkin’ great, yous guys, the cracks are showing. Without the cult of personality sideshow circus freak that was Starlight Glimmer, sounds like yous guys can’t keep your stuff together.” A twisted, sardonic smile spread over Hotspur’s muzzle. “That makes me happy, it does.”
“And you are an idiot,” Tarbean replied in a cool, calm voice. “Capturing me accomplishes you nothing. If anything, you are making all of this worse by removing one of the calm voices of reason and moderation. There are those who are far, far worse and without me being there to silence them, dreadful action shall commence.”
Hotspur glared over at Tarbean through narrowed eyes. “That sounds like an admission that the lot of yous guys is terrorists. That’s yous is saying that the only thing that prevents your group from being murderous anarchists is yours truly. Whatta load a horseapples.”
The exchange ended and Gosling stood there, trying to take it all in, trying to understand what had just taken place. Tarbean was now staring off at the horizon, at the sky in the distance, a sky that he would likely never touch again. Hotspur on the other hoof, he was gnashing his teeth with rage.
“Captain?” Gosling asked.
“I’m fine, just pissed off,” Hotspur replied as he turned to face Gosling. “I take my oath to protect and serve seriously. I gave my word. Honour and respect… yous knows how it is. I’m a different pony than I was in my old life.”
Nodding, Gosling had some understanding. He wasn’t the same pony either. He was changed, in both a mental way and a physical way. He had grown, in many senses of the word, he had changed, he was different. Hearing the sounds of a camera, Gosling turned his head to watch Seville, who was up and moving around, snapping photographs of everything around him. How many pictures had his earth pony friend taken today? A hundred? A thousand?
Seville’s life would be forever changed. He had seen the face of the enemy, so to speak, he had bled because of their violence. He had suffered at their hooves. Gosling’s friend was wrapped up in bandages, which covered so much of his body. Seville had to be suffering, in pain, but he soldiered on, doing his job. His career would never be the same after today. Gosling couldn’t even imagine how much this was going to change things for his earth pony friend. He was coming home with the story of a lifetime, with the pictures to prove it.
That story, if told right, could change perceptions, change the points of view of both sides involved in this fight, this war of ideas, of ideologies, a war of outlooks. It was a war that Gosling understood that he had to fight, but it wasn’t a battle he understood. He thought of everything that he knew of history and mused that the answers to the future might be found in the past. He needed to take advantage of his situation, return to school, and become a scholar. By understanding history, by understanding the past, he might have a better chance of influencing the inevitable future that they seemed to be racing towards. He might be able to make a difference, make headway, he might be able to right a few wrongs.
But he was going to need an army. Sighing, feeling distraught without understanding why, he glanced over at the now disgraced former Captain Tarbean. There was a right way and a wrong way to make a difference. Tarbean had plenty of good intentions, but he had gone about things the wrong way. Gosling wasn’t sure what the right way was, but he knew that violence had no part in it. If he was going to win, he was going to have to win over both hearts and minds with kind words, gentle acts, he had to make ponies want to do good.
How did one do that? Gosling was stumped, but he suspected that Celestia had an answer. Perhaps Cadance as well. He took what he knew of them and concluded that both of them manipulated ponies into being the very best they could be. Cadance had done it to him. He turned his head around, his armor creaking, and looked at the courier’s cases secured to his sides, on his hips.
Lead by example?
He still had a job to do. Gosling suspected that the chess dispatches were a lot more than chess dispatches. Everything he had learned thus far had taught him that every act had a deeper purpose, a secondary function. Everything served a greater purpose. The other eyes-only dispatches he was carrying were all valuable and important, but, he suspected that the chess dispatches were the most important thing of all. No doubt, there was some elaborate means of encryption or a cipher in place involving chess boards with the pieces all placed in specific locations, or something devious to that end.
Taking another train north seemed foolhardy. It would be putting civilians at risk. Unless of course he took an empty train. That seemed like a waste of valuable resources, not to mention if the train was attacked, it would be another train laid to ruin, much like this one. No, taking a train was not an option.
Gosling’s head swiveled around until his snoot was facing north. Being a pegasus, he just sort of knew these things, but it somehow felt stronger now, he was more aware, more attuned with the world around him, like his knowledge of the sun and the moon. He didn’t understand the changes being wrought in him, so he just went along with them. What else could he do?
Blinking, he looked around him at the smouldering wreckage and derailed train cars. He looked at the ponies, both friend and foe, the wounded and the well off, and then his eyes fell upon those who were dead. The bodies were being laid out in neat, orderly rows. The dead knew no distinction between friend and foe. The bodies were laid out side by side, many of them no doubt had been enemies no less than an hour ago, but now shared the peaceful, dreamless sleep of death together. A heavy sense of sadness fell upon Gosling and he shook his head.
Whatever great hope had been held by the ponies who committed this brash and daring raid, it was now dashed upon the rocks. Thanks to Seville, Equestria at large would see these ponies as they were—terrorists. They had attacked a train believed to be full of civilians with the intent of capturing him. The whole of the known world would know about what had taken place here.
And the world would know that he did his job. Gosling did not wish to be known as a lazy, worthless, roustabout prince. He had fought and defended his friend. He had discovered that his training as a guard had made him quite good at violence, a realisation that bothered him, unnerved him, but also brought a sense of relief.
“Captain Hotspur, these dispatches still need to be delivered,” Gosling said in what he hoped was a firm, no nonsense sort of voice.
“What?” Hotspur barked in reply.
“Captain, these dispatches have to be delivered.” As he spoke, Gosling heard the scritchy-scratchy sound of Seville’s auto quill moving over the rough paper of a notebook. He swallowed, feeling nervous, and continued, “Captain, a lot of good ponies died today, all because these dispatches, and myself, were used as bait. What did they die for? They did their job, but to what end? I’m safe and we’ve captured a lot of prisoners, but these dispatches are still not delivered. I must do my job. I was tasked with delivering these dispatches and I will do so.”
Eyes narrowing, Hotspur glared at Gosling, looked over at Hush, who shrugged as his captain’s eyes fell upon him, and then returned his gaze to Gosling. After a few seconds, Hotspur replied, “No.”
“Sorry, Captain, but my orders come from higher up the chain of command than you.”
“Private Gosling, your orders came with the intention that yous was used for bait. If yous made it, good… if we were attacked and all of this happened, then I was to keep yous safe. So fuggetaboutit.” Hotspur lifted his head and drew himself to attention, then turned his most commanding stare upon Gosling. “Don’tchu get wise wit’ me, bruddah.”
“I was never given those orders,” Gosling replied in a calm, flat voice. “I was told to deliver these dispatches. The fact of the matter is, I still have standing orders from a princess. Failure to follow through with those orders could get me court martialed.”
Baring his teeth, Hotspur let out a snort. “And I have standing orders from a princess to keep yous as safe as equinely possible, given the circumstances and the situation. Look here, Prince Prettyboy, don’t make me tell Hush to sit on yous. He’ll do it.”
Gosling flapped his wings in frustration, causing a cloud of white dust to fill the air. The styptic powder made him cough and his eyes burned. “It’s not enough that we won this battle today”—Gosling took a brash step forwards and focused his now watery-eyed stare upon Hotspur—“I will fulfill my mission objectives and I will keep my oath to the empire to which I serve.”
“Yous is an ass, Private Gosling. Hush, make sure this clown doesn’t goes nowheres.”
“No.”
Both ponies turned and looked at Hush, who had just told Captain Hotspur ‘no.’ Hush, who was far smarter than he looked, understood military politics far too well. Nothing good ever came out of upsetting a princess—or a future prince.
“Did yous just tell me no, yous big hairy asshole?” Captain Hotspur asked.
Hush nodded.
“Fronkin’ mutiny here!” Hotspur let out a frustrated wickering bellow and glared at his most trusted companion. “Hush, how could yous? I thought we was tight. Yous is like a brother to me!”
Frowning, Hush shrugged, but said nothing.
“Well then, there is only one thing left to do. I too, have to fulfill my mission objective. Private Gosling, if yous will give me a few minutes to put some ponies in charge of this mess, I will gather up a wing of able bodied soldiers and then we will escort you north and hope that things don’t turn to meadow muffins.”
“I’m going too,” Seville said to Hotspur.
“Yous is an earth pony, and as such, yous don’t fly,” Hotspur replied.
“I started this mission with my friend, Gosling, and I plan to finish it. You said if I bled with you, then I was with you. I’ve bled a whole fronking lot today. I’ve lost so much blood that I’m dizzy and lightheaded. Does all this blood I’ve shed mean something or not?”
Hotspur scowled and then looked over at Hush. “Hush, for disobeying my orders, yous is gonna carry our bloodied brother to the Crystal Empire, and if you do, I won’t say a damn word in my report about how yous told me no. Yous gots that?”
Hush tilted his head and thought about Hotspur’s offer. After a few seconds, he looked over at Seville, let out a sigh, and then nodded. He stuck out his wing in Hotspur’s direction, and then held up his clawed thumb as if to say, ‘okay!’ without having to actually say anything.
“Let me goes and finds us some able bodied fliers that can fly across a continent at a moments notice,” Hotspur grumbled as he turned about. “Prince Prettyboy is a fronking ass. I gotta deliver the dispatches! Whatta jerk!”
The sky was filled with crystal pegasi. Gosling felt his flagging spirit lifted in very much the same way that his body would be lifted on an updraft. He soared. Over a thousand miles in under sixteen hours had a way of wearing a pony out. A guard with good conditioning was expected to be able to make this sort of flight, but Gosling had been in a battle earlier. He was sore, he was tired, his wings were full of cuts, and his lingering inner ear issues made flying a little difficult. Changes in elevation and pressure made his head hurt.
Five centuries of crystal pegasi, or a quinquagenaria fell into formation around them. Gosling could not help but feel pride at seeing both his brothers and sisters in arms. Under most circumstances, he was a telegraph operator, a member of the chair force, but because of recent events, he had played the part of a soldier.
He glanced over at Hush, who had Seville hanging from a sling beneath him. Hush didn’t even seem tired. It wasn’t fair. Hush wasn’t tired, he wasn’t breathing hard, and Gosling suspected that the draconic pegasus crossbreed could keep flying for days if he had to, not even needing sleep. Turning his head, he looked over at Captain Hotspur. The captain looked worn out, tired, and in desperate need of rest.
The Crystal Empire loomed large before them. Rest and relaxation would happen soon. Gosling wasn’t sure what he wanted to do first—sleeping or eating. Of course, given how things tended to turn out, he would probably end up in the infirmary before either of these things.
“By the grace of alicorns, it’s beautiful,” Seville said as he snapped a picture with his camera. “I’ve never been to the Crystal Empire. This is amazing. Wait… wait, Hush, I need some elevation… I sense a perfect shot coming on!”
Making no response, Hush flapped his bat-like wings, angled himself upwards, and gained some elevation at Seville’s request. The earth pony, who looked so very tired and bleary eyed, found renewed vigour at the chance to snap a perfect picture.
The perfect opportunity for a picture presented itself. A white alicorn stallion came tearing out of the clouds, moving along at a great rate of speed. Gosling did a double take, confused, he freaked out a bit before realising that he was seeing Shining Armor with a wing spell. It was one of the most amazing things that Gosling had ever seen. Shining Armor flew as if he had been born with wings.
As Princess Cadance approached, Private Gosling stood at attention, or did his best to do so. He was exhausted. It took real effort to stand at attention. Something about putting his hooves on the ground had made his fatigue settle in. His armor felt heavy, it pinched, and rubbed him in all of the wrong places. He was sweaty, dehydrated, and starving to death.
But he was also happy.
“This is unexpected,” Cadance said as she drew near. “Of all the various outcomes predicted, it was Princess Luna who proved correct.”
Gosling’s right eyebrow arched. “Correct?”
“We discussed the various outcomes of this operation. Princess Luna suggested that you would deliver your dispatches. She was the only one of us who foresaw this outcome. Personally, I thought you’d return to Canterlot.” Cadance came to a halt and drew herself up to her full height. “I was wrong, and so was Princess Celestia.”
“I am full of surprises.” Gosling allowed a bit of a smile to spread over his muzzle as he spoke. “I am also glad that I didn’t let Princess Luna down. She’s a tough nut to crack. I still don’t know how to win her over.”
Now smiling herself, Cadance nodded, took a step forwards, and looked Captain Hotspur in the eye. “You have done well, Captain Hotspur. Remaining with Private Gosling to personally look after his safety is commendable. Your record states that you are a formidable fighter. I for one would like to thank you for looking after him, as I was able to reassure Princess Celestia that all would be well. She is beside herself with worry right now.”
“I’s glad that I did not disappoint,” Hotspur replied as he bowed his head.
Hearing the clatter of hooves, Gosling turned and saw Shining Armor, now wingless. Shining Armor moved with slow dignity. His armor had a mirror finish and seeing the perfect, flawless armor made Gosling feel untidy and slovenly. His own armor was crusted over with blood and blood stop powder. He smelled smokey, sweaty, and he was no doubt stinky. He was ashamed to even be standing in front of Cadance and he felt a sudden, stabbing, panic inducing sense of self consciousness. Right now, he wasn’t pretty.
“I have sent word to Canterlot that promotions are in order, Captain Hotspur.” Shining Armor came to a halt before the weary captain. “I am pleased with how everything turned out. Everything went much better than expected. I understand that you’ve even made some very important captures.”
Captain Hotspur stood silent for a moment, his face grim, and when he spoke, his voice was low and gritty. “In all honesty, Sir, it was Private Gosling who kept our most important capture alive. Former Captain Tarbean… I was gonna has him beaten to death by Hush in front of the troops to leave a lasting impression on them so they know what we do with traitors and turncoats. A hooves on lesson.”
“I appreciate your honesty, Captain Hotspur. Come with me. We have much to discuss. I need to know everything that happened.” Shining Armor turned and looked at Hush. “Take Seville to the infirmary. Some of those bandages look soaked through with blood.”
Once more, Shining Armor moved, this time he looked at Gosling. “You too… you go with Hush. Let the doctors have a look at you. You look like you’re about to drop dead of exhaustion.” The white stallion gave a nod. “You are dismissed.”
It was almost over. It was time to get checked out and then maybe some rest. Gosling slumped and as he did so, his armor rattled. He gave Shining Armor a weary smile and watched as Shining Armor and Hotspur both walked away.
Alone, Gosling gobbled down everything that he could stuff into his mouth. There was no need for manners, no need to behave, he was far too hungry and far too exhausted to care. He had been checked over by the doctors and then shooed out of the infirmary. Seville and Hush both had been kept.
He guzzled down a whole bottle of Cadance~Cola, belched loud enough to make the plates on the table rattle, and then cracked open a bottle of Luna~Cola. The contents of the bottle vanished in just a few swallows, Gosling belched again, and then he tore into a cold vegetable and dip platter with gusto. He didn’t even much care for spinach dip, but he was hungry. He stuffed broccoli, carrots, celery, cauliflower, and bell pepper sticks into his mouth, crunched them a few times, and almost swallowed them whole.
Smacking his lips, the creamy spinach dip left him thirsty. He popped the top off of a Celestia~Cola, tipped it back, and allowed the ice cold soda to slide down his throat. The faint, somewhat bitter flavour of tamarind somehow made the citrusy soda taste even sweeter.
“Hiya, Mistah Goose!”
It was too late, Flurry Heart came at the worst possible moment. Gosling let fly with an enormous belch, his lips curling back from his teeth and his nostrils flaring. The little yearling filly laughed as he cut loose.
“Yucko!”
“‘Scuse me,” Gosling said to Flurry as he tried to show some sort of decorum. “What are you doing here?”
Flurry turned around, peered out of the door, looked left, then looked right, then turned back around to look at Gosling. “I got away from my nanny. She’s no fun. Booooring!”
“Heh.” Gosling let out a chuckle as Flurry approached the table. He helped her climb into a chair beside him and Gosling found that he was quite enamoured with the little filly. He looked forwards to being a father.
“I wanna be a guard,” Flurry said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“You need a helmet,” Gosling replied, “otherwise, your brains will get scrambled. Trust me, I know. I was just in a big fight, and hoo-wee, am I glad I had a helmet.”
Flurry’s brows furrowed and the little filly looked quite serious. She peered up at Gosling through narrowed eyes, looking a bit put out, and then folded her forelegs over her barrel as her lower lip began to protrude in a pout.
Tired, but in good humour, Gosling gave Flurry a nudge. “Hey, don’t be so sad lookin’. I can help you.”
“You can?”
“I think so.”
Gosling had an idea. Extending a foreleg, he grabbed a crystal melon. He grabbed a knife and gripped it in his fetlock. He stabbed it into the melon, made a few quick cuts, and then set it down upon the table. Now opened, he scooped out the insides with a spoon, and then began gobbling down the sweet, sticky, wet chunks of yellow-orange melon flesh.
As he worked, Flurry watched with great interest.
He cut several holes into the melon rind, two big holes, perfect for ears, one small hole, perfect for a horn, and then two more holes. He then cut two curved horns from a leftover piece of melon rind. He jammed the ends into the two holes, gave them a test wiggle, saw that they were secure, and then a weary, worn out look of satisfaction appeared upon his muzzle.
With a wet sounding plop, he put the melon helmet on Flurry Heart’s head. It was a pretty good fit and the two curved horns gave her a menacing air. Her stubby horn protruded out the front. She was ready for battle. He cracked the cap off of a Cadance~Cola and offered it to Flurry, who took the sugary drink with wide-eyed glee.
“We guards, we drink together.” As Gosling spoke, he opened another bottle of cola, this time, a Cadance~Cola. He raised the bottle of pink soda in salute to the tiny princess, then tipped it back, chugged it down, and then set the bottle on the table.
Flurry had a little trouble holding her bottle, but Gosling helped her, and she drank down about a fourth of it before she had to come up for air. She gasped, sucking in wind, almost choked as she giggled, and then the little filly exploded with laughter when Gosling let fly with another draconic belch. Not one to be left out, Flurry Heart let go with her own belch, which was quite impressive. Her bottle of cola rattled and sloshed.
“Say, that was pretty good,” Gosling said to the filly.
“Private Gosling… what are you doing?”
Gosling, who had an excellent sense for knowing when he was in danger or trouble, now felt that he was in mortal peril. He had just been in a major battle and he didn’t feel that he was in as much danger as he was now. His blood ran cold and poor little Flurry, she looked as though she knew that she was in trouble too.
“Uh oh…”
“Uh oh is right!” Cadance said as she loomed over the pair. “Private Gosling… I’d like to know what you were thinking! She just had a bath just this morning! Now… now she is all sticky… you made a helmet out of a melon rind! What were you thinking? And you gave her sugar! Do you know what sugar does to her? Ugh, why would you do this?”
“She wanted to join the guard so I made her a helmet… she looked all sad!”
“Looking sad is a ploy… she can look sad or happy on a whim… Gosling… you… you… why would you—”
“You sound upset,” Gosling said in a low voice as he tried to calm Cadance down.
“Oh, you had better believe I am upset!”
“It was just a bit of harmless fun—”
“Harmless fun? You’re not the one that has to bathe her! Do you know how difficult she is to wrangle?”
“Well, she did mention something about escaping from her nanny—”
“And you didn’t think of returning her to her nanny?”
“Well, no, because she said her nanny was boring—”
“Her nanny is boring because her nanny is responsible!” Cadance snapped. “She keeps Flurry behaved and under control!”
“Mommy cranky,” Flurry mumbled as she gave her mother a petulant, sullen glare.
Cadance’s expression softened. “Mommy is under a lot of stress right now. Her little ponies are in danger. Things are happening, Flurry, scary things.” She let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head as she turned to address Gosling. “She does look kinda cute in her helmet.”
Nodding, Gosling hoped that Cadance’s sudden mood swing had improved his chances of getting out of this intact. He took a deep breath and then his stomach rumbled. He was still hungry. Even though he was worried about the outcome of this situation, he dared to begin eating again.
“Flurry, darling, Mommy is also cranky for other reasons…” Cadance let out another huff and she took a step backwards. “Come on Flurry, Gosling needs to eat and recover. Let’s go and get you a bath.”
“No.”
“No?” Cadance, stunned, eyed her defiant foal.
“No. I guard now.”
There was yet another deep sigh from Cadance. “Is that so?”
“Yep.”
“Very well, young lady. Guard duty it is then. You are to watch over Private Gosling as he recovers. But no more soda!” Cadance made an effort to scowl, but something of a smile lurked upon the corners of her mouth. “And when Private Gosling takes a nap, you are going to get a bath and then it is naptime for you as well.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw—”
“Don’t you dare complain, you’re getting off easy, young lady!” Cadance stomped her hoof and Flurry went silent. She turned her head and focused an intense, burning stare upon Gosling. “As for you… you’ll be punished soon enough. Just wait till you have some of your own. You’ll get what’s coming to you, just you wait!”
With a groggy sounding yawn, Gosling pulled himself out of bed. His mouth felt dry and something down deep in his ears ached just a little. He yawned again, something in his ear popped, and the ache subsided just a bit. He stumbled, his legs were not yet as awake as the rest of him, but then recovered before he crashed to the floor.
He stretched, extending his wings, gave himself a shake, and then decided that he was in desperate need of coffee. Pausing, he took a moment to get his bearings. How long had he been asleep? He didn’t know. It was now mid morning, approaching noon. As he stood there, his stomach growled, reminding him to get moving, and that some food of some sort might be nice with the coffee.
Pushing open the door, he exited his tiny but comfortable guest room, took a moment to get oriented in the hall, and tried to remember where things were located. He took off, flexing and moving his lower jaw, trying to get his ears to pop again just to see if he could. The pain and the dizziness wasn’t so bad—more than anything, it was a reminder to take things slow and deal with the things in his life that caused stress.
The hall was quiet and appeared to be deserted. There was no noise, no sound of voices, no sounds of life. It was a quiet, peaceful place, perfect for a weary, tired soldier in need of sleep. Sounds were strange here, perhaps because of the crystal floors and walls. The clicking sounds of his hooves on the floor had volume, but also seemed muffled. It was a strange effect.
In a small but luxurious sitting room, Gosling found Hotspur, Hush, and Seville. Hush was reading a newspaper, a pair of bifocals with somewhat darkened lenses sat upon his nose and he appeared to be rather studious looking. He had a raised eyebrow and read whatever it was he was reading with great interest.
Hotspur looked up when Gosling entered, gave a nod, and then gestured with his hoof over at a small, ornate silver bell sitting on a well carved wooden table. With no helmet on, streaks of grey were visible in Hotspur’s mane. His neck, face, and his back bore several scars, reminders of gashes, lacerations, burns, acid exposure, and bites.
Sitting on the floor, Seville had his notes spread out all around him. A look of intense concentration was upon his face as he organised everything. The earth pony was so focused on his task that he didn’t even acknowledge Gosling’s presence, which was fine.
Gosling strolled through the room, went to where the bell was, lifted it, and gave it a ring. He then put it down, turned about and faced Hotspur, who was clearing his throat, no doubt to get Gosling’s attention.
“Hey, yous,” Hotspur said as Gosling faced him.
“Did you get a promotion?” Gosling asked.
“Yeah, I did.” Hotspur’s face almost had a scowl on it for a second, but it softened into something else, some unknown expression. “I wanted to say thank yous, Gosling, for keeping me from making a mistake. That was good of yous.”
Gosling nodded and hoped that this wouldn’t turn into a heavy conversation. He wasn’t awake enough yet to handle soul searching or a complex discussion of ethics. He could see that Hotspur was struggling to say something, and he waited.
“I told Shining Armor everything. I was honest, real honest about everything. He still promoted me. Said I saved lives and did a service to my country. He reminded me that a good leader listens to his troops.” Hotspur’s gaze dropped down to the floor and he no longer looked at Gosling. Shaking his head, he let out a sigh. “I am now Watch Captain Hotspur. Shining Armor insists that he’ll make a Major out of me.”
“Is that what you want?” Gosling asked.
“I’m just a pony trying to pay off his debt,” Hotspur replied, “I never expected that I’d find my true calling in life while being punished for what I did. I’m actually having trouble taking it all in… I did a bad thing… that can’t be denied… and I deserved to be punished… that also can’t be denied… but because of that bad thing I did, I am now a decorated officer. I am respected. And even though I almost made a mistake, things worked out for me. I feel like I owe yous, Gosling.”
“Hey, what are friends for, right?” Gosling gave Hotspur a broad grin.
Rattling his newspaper, Hush snorted.
“Need something?” A maid seemed to materialise out of the nothing.
Startled, Gosling whirled to face the maid. She was small, a bit short, somewhat chubby, and she glowed. Something about the crystal ponies fascinated him to no end. After a moment, he realised that he was staring and he hoped that the maid didn’t get the wrong idea.
“I’m starving and I need coffee,” Gosling said to the small, chubby, glowing mare.
The little mare nodded. “Come with me.”
“Gosling, before you go…”
“Yeah, Hotspur?”
“Thank yous.”
“Don’t mention it, Hotspur.”
After wiping out a dozen scrambled eggs, Gosling grabbed the box of Frosted Mini-Bales. He had asked for some sweet cereal and this is what he got. Some old pony’s cereal with frosting on it. He was too hungry to care.
Tiny bales of wheat and hay, frosted to perfection!
Flipping the box around, he poured some into his bowl, let out a wordless whine at how small the bowl was—it was going to take a half a dozen bowls to fill him up—and then poured some milk into his cereal. It was like he hadn’t even eaten before going to sleep. He grabbed up a spoon and began to devour his breakfast while steam curled up out of his cup of coffee.
Bored, needing something to read, Gosling flipped the box around so he could amuse himself with something. That something was the nutritional information. There wasn’t much to be amused about. He found himself missing the cereal boxes of his youth. There were mazes, fun pictures, Wonderbolts promotional stuff, promises of free toys and prizes.
The back of this box had the words ‘220% OF YOUR DAILY RECOMMENDED FIBRE INTAKE!’ in big bold letters. That was a lot of fronking fibre to be sucking down. This was what was passed off as a foal’s cereal now? Frosted Mini-Bales… if he had eaten this as a foal, he’s spend all day farting in class and would probably get detention. His mother would then tan his backside, and it was the cereal selection that would be to blame.
He felt somewhat worried about the fact that the serving size was one cup and he now understood why his bowl was so small. There was a moment of intense hesitation as he thought about eating more than one serving. Two bowls would be four hundred and forty percent of his daily recommend fibre intake. This cereal didn’t need a toy or a prize in the box, it needed a fronking book to keep him occupied while he was stuck on the head, which he was sure to be if he kept eating.
Deciding to live dangerously, Gosling poured another bowl of cereal when he finished off the first. He was tucking into it when the door opened, and a white head poked its way into the dining room.
“At ease,” Shining Armor said as he stepped through the doorway. He moved with smooth confidence and easy, almost lithe grace. He had the fluid walk of a guard that had spent much of his time on patrol. “Doing okay, Gosling?”
“Just wrecking my colon,” Gosling replied as he gestured at the cereal box.
There were several long seconds where Shining Armor tried to keep his composure, it was a mighty struggle—he even bit his lip—but he failed. He began sniggering and snorting. His sides heaved and then, Shining Armor began laughing.
“Gonna be a long flight home,” Gosling remarked just before cramming a spoon loaded with cereal into his mouth.
“You’ll be getting some laurels for this.” Shining Armor pulled himself together. His eyes still had a merry twinkle and held the promise of laughter, but his face looked stern and serious. “You did well, Gosling. I do believe that a promotion is in order, but that will be dealt with later. As it is right now, your future is uncertain. S.M.I.L.E. has shown an interest in you as a somewhat public face. It’s complicated. Various intelligence branches want you.”
“Anypony curious about what I want?” Gosling asked in a soft voice.
“And what do you want, Gosling?” Shining Armor sounded sincere and not at all patronising.
“I want to fight this war that seems to be happening,” Gosling replied. “I want to go back to school and study history… if I can’t understand the mistakes of our past, then I can’t help fix our future. I want to lead an army to fight our real enemy… things like poverty, a lack of education, those things… there’s a lot of disenfranchised ponies out there, Shining Armor, and so long as these problems persist, so long as the system stays broken, those bastards that attacked the train are always gonna have some sway over others. We gotta deal with the root of the issues and make the common pony feel good about serving the sisters again.”
“And you believe that the guard should be a part of this?” Shining Armor’s eyes glittered with curiousity.
“Yes,” Gosling replied without hesitation. “I swore an oath to defend Equestria against all threats. The conditions of the inner city, poverty, this feeling of desperation that some ponies have, the feeling that there ain’t no future, that’s a threat to us. We need an army to fight it. Perhaps a civilian branch, but we need the same level of organisation and discipline that the guard can provide.”
After a moment of silence, Shining Armor nodded. “I find myself in agreement. And you, you would lead this army dedicated to the cause of civil service?”
Gosling pointed his spoon at Shining Armor and his eyes narrowed into a hawkish squint. “Damn right I would. I pledged my life to the service of this country. Right now, my country needs me. Something is rotten… we have enemies all around us. And you wanna know what they are?”
Shining Armor waited.
“It’s little colts and fillies that go to school in the mornings hungry and have to wait till lunch before they eat. It’s hard to pay attention in class when you're that hungry. You never had to worry about it, but for many of us, that’s the reality. Food in the big city is expensive. Sometimes, school lunch was the only meal I had. Ma tried, she did… and there were times when she skipped a few meals just to make certain that I had something. There was lean times and good times, depending on the job she had.” Gosling’s ears drooped and he shook his head. “There were a lot more lean times than good times though.”
“I’m sorry,” Shining Armor said in a low voice.
“It shouldn’t be like that.” Gosling’s ears stood up and his anger became visible on his face. Several deep furrows appeared upon his brow and his eyebrows formed a incensed ‘V’ over his eyes. “No doubt, these extremists are gaining favour and followers by offering food and services to the desperate. If we don’t address these social issues, things are gonna get worse.”
“I agree.” Shining Armor shifted his weight from his right hooves to his left hooves.
“Now, I understand that not everypony wants to join the guard… but if not the guard, maybe we can have some kind of alternative civilian service. Some kind of civil service corps that will offer everything the guard does… food, shelter, all of your needs provided for, but instead of boot camp, there’s stuff like job training, education, counselling to help some of those troubled inner city types like myself get straightened out. And once this army grows, as it gains members, those members can help more ponies.”
“So you are proposing a purely civilian alternative to the guard for ponies to join.”
“Yeah.”
“Fascinating.” Shining Armor cleared his throat and then changed the subject. “Thank you, by the way, for being patient with Flurry. She can be a real test of a pony’s patience.”
“She didn’t bother me.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“No, really, I had fun with her. She didn’t bother me. Not in the least.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
For several seconds, Shining Armor did nothing but blink. Once he recovered his wits, he said, “Well, I don’t know what to say.” Shining Armor shifted on his hooves again. “Cadance was rather upset. She grumbled for quite some time about how you were going to get yours. She doesn’t know what you were thinking making a melon helmet. I got in trouble for laughing.”
Hearing this, Gosling chortled.
“I’d imagine that Princess Celestia might put you in the stocks if you did something like that after your foals just had a bath. Just a word of caution from an experienced father like myself.”
Nodding, Gosling replied, “We’ll have to look out for one another.”
“Gosling…”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll see what I can do about making this civil service corps idea of yours a reality. I think you’re right. We need to re-evaluate our priorities if we want to win this war. And make no mistake, we’re at war. But this isn’t a war that can be fought in the traditional sense.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you to your breakfast.” Shining Armor paused. “And one more thing. You’ll be flying back to Canterlot with an escort. Think you’ll be up for the return trip today, or should I schedule it for tomorrow?”
“My princesses need me,” Gosling replied.
Both stallions turned their head as the door opened. Cadance entered the room, looking a bit frazzled, but smiling. She lowered her head a bit, nosed her husband, and then drawing herself back up to her full height, she addressed Gosling.
“They most certainly do. Gosling, I have an assignment for you.”
Giving Cadance his full attention, Gosling waited.
“Don’t get any lewd ideas, you strutting peacock, but I want you to write romance reports.” Cadance’s eyes narrowed somewhat and before Gosling could say anything, she continued, “Think of them as being like a friendship report. Share what you’ve learned. Share how you’ve grown. Share your discoveries. Can you do this? And I mean it! Nothing lewd!”
Knowing there was a time and a place for everything, Gosling decided it was time to be serious. “I can do that. I’m not sure what to write, or how to write it, but I’ll give it some thought and do my best.” After a moment, he added, “So, uh, how long will I be doing this assignment?”
Cadance’s ears splayed out sideways and her expression became unreadable. She stared at Gosling, her gaze intense, and after several seconds, she tilted her head off to one side. “These romance reports will continue until the time when you can get Princess Luna to say that she loves you. Then there will be an evaluation to determine if they shall continue.”
“What?” Gosling shook his head. “What?”
“She has a wounded heart. It will be a most difficult, if not outright impossible task. You might spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this. The point is, I want you to try. Luna needs to realise that she is worthy of love. And you, my strutting peacock pony, are going to try and woo her.”
“Um…”
“Good luck, Gosling.” Cadance turned to look at her husband. “Come, let us have an early lunch.”
“This is because of the melon helmet, isn’t it?” Gosling asked.
A dangerous grin appeared upon Cadance’s face but she did not reply. She turned to leave, nudging Shining Armor so he would come along with her. She strutted out of the room, radiating an aura of triumph. When she and Shining Armor were gone, Gosling was left alone with his now soggy Frosted Mini-Bales.
“Aw, nuts!” Gosling snapped as he stabbed his spoon into his bowl and splashed milk all over the table. “What’s wrong with just being friends?” he asked the now empty room around him. He stabbed his cereal again with his spoon.
All of Equestria stretched out beneath him and Gosling could not help but feel a sense of pride. He had fought and bled for this land. Doing so had given him new perspectives, it had caused him to grow, it had given him strength, courage, and conviction. On the train ride north, he had found purpose. He had found his way. Before, he only had vague ideas of what to do with his life, but now, now he was filled with an all consuming sense of purpose. He had a new sense of direction. He had ideas. Flying back to Canterlot gave him time to reflect upon these ideas.
An entire wing of crystal pegasi flew with them, some of them pulling sky chariots behind them, and quite a few unicorns were along for the ride. Seville rode in a chariot and was busy being a shutterbug. They were making good time, fantastic time even, Cadance had used some of her magic to give them a powerful tailwind to aid them in their long journey home.
As they flew, a dragon was spotted, but nopony seemed to panic, so Gosling didn’t bother wasting the energy to panic either, but he was a little concerned. Much to his surprise, both Hush and Hotspur waved to the fantastically large beast, and the dragon waved back.
“That’s Gorgonzola,” Hotspur said to Gosling as they flew over the dragon. “And if yous look close, you can see Grey Owl, her foal.”
“Her what?” Gosling asked.
“Gorgonzola is Grey Owl’s mommy.” Hotspur let out a boisterous chuckle, flapped his wings once, and slipped into a comfortable glide.
Gulping, Gosling began to think of the implications. Alicorns help whomever might mess with that foal. She had a dragon mommy that had to be at least a hundred feet long. Okay, maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him and Gorgonzola wasn’t quite that long, but she was the biggest dragon he had ever seen. Her scales were pinkish gold and purplish silver, all of which were polished to a mirrored finish.
“Gorgonzola teaches dragon magic to curious unicorns who are capable of learning such things,” Hotspur said as he continued his energy saving glide. “I don’t know jack about such things, but I know that it’s rare, real rare. Princess Luna spent some time learning some magic from Gorgonzola and Hush got to be a foal sitter for a while. Grey Owl talked his ears off.”
Whipping his head around, Gosling glanced over at Hush, who made no response to Hotspur’s words. Gosling turned his head back around, looked over at Hotspur, and then looked below him at the massive dragon, who appeared to be holding a little foal in her massive claws. Each claw had to be as long as his wingspan, and Gosling had an impressive wingspan, as he kept telling anypony that would listen. And you know what they say about pegasus wingspans…
Already, Gorgonzola was growing smaller as they continued towards Canterlot. Gosling hoped that he might get a chance to meet the dragon face to face. He was curious and he found that he wanted to get to know her. It was too bad that now was not the time for such things. Perhaps a wedding invitation would be in order when the time was right.
Wings aching, Gosling could see Canterlot in the distance. While he was in fine shape, all things considered, he had been in a major battle, been injured, and had flown a few thousand miles in the span of just a few days. He was beat and he knew it. Returning home, he knew that he would have to return to his job almost right away, there was much expected of him, and there would be reports to give. There would be no rest.
Plus, there was his assignment, but he looked forwards to that. He would keep his promise to Princess Cadance and he wouldn’t be lewd. At least, not much. Maybe just the occasional saucy, spicy detail, and that would be it. His belly gurgled. These long trips took a lot out of a pegasus and a good five or six thousand calorie meal was in order. Even though it would be heavy and sit in his stomach like lead, Gosling was in the mood for pizza… Manehattan style. Maybe something extra cheesy, with green apple bits, pineapple, mushrooms, olives, onions, peppers, all of the good stuff. He had no doubt that he could polish off several whole pies all by his lonesome if given the chance.
He wondered how his mother was doing. He missed her, he missed her so much that it hurt. He knew that she would be worried and would probably be waiting for him when he landed. No doubt, there might be a princess or two waiting for him to land as well. He was heading home… yes, Canterlot was home now, and he had family there waiting to welcome him. Thinking of this, he realised that he had family in the Crystal Empire as well… ponies that he loved a great deal and he would do anything for them, should the need arise.
The skies ahead filled with pegasi as the guard took wing, taking to the skies to greet them. Gosling flapped his wings, trying to get a little more speed going. He was exhausted, but knowing that those he loved were waiting for him lifted his spirits and gave him the strength he needed to keep going. The promise of food, any food, was also a great motivator.
Angling down, Gosling slowed down as he began his descent. He angled his wings, gave them a few flaps, and lined himself up with the landing strip. There was a bit of a side wind blowing off port. He was too tired to do anything fancy and there were far too many ponies also trying to land. There was no point in being a showoff and putting his fellow soldiers at risk.
The wind gusted, but he compensated. The first chill of autumn could be felt in the wind. Canterlot, at its high altitude, experienced a short, hard autumn that was quick to give in to the winter. Winter meant cocoa and snuggles by the fire.
Hush didn’t land so much as he just dropped out of the sky and smashed into the ground. Gosling pitied the ground. Some of the paving stones cracked when Hush came down and the earth failed to get out of his way in time. The big bat winged brute just sort of stood there for a moment, looking around, and then he folded his wings against his sides.
Gosling landed with far more grace. About two yards above the ground, he folded in his wings against his sides, dropped down the rest of his way, made a light landing upon his hooves, and then stood there with a nonchalant smile. Some pegasi needed a runway to land, but not Gosling. Having lived in pigeon coop apartments in the big city, long landing strips were a luxury he never had. He could land on top of a pizza box if need be. For Gosling, it was a matter of inner city pride—your landing zone was something that you bragged about, just like your wingspan.
He hardly had time to recover before he noticed a whole herd of ponies stampeding over to see him. He braced himself, the little white pegasus was moving at quite a clip, she wasn’t running so much as she was flying inches off of the ground, and she showed no signs of slowing.
His mother was sobbing too much to say anything. She hung from his neck, doing her best to strangle him, and Gosling wasn’t sure if even Hush was strong enough to pry Sleet’s legs from around his neck. He stood there, letting his mother cling to him, and he could feel her crying against his neck.
A few feet away, Princess Celestia stood with a relieved smile upon her face, and at her side stood a very sleepy looking Princess Luna, who didn’t look relieved so much as she looked both bored and exhausted.
“Hello, ladies of my life,” Gosling said to the princesses.
Now anxious looking, Celestia took a step closer. “Gosling… are you okay? The reports… the reports were bloody… I’ve been worried—”
“He’s a soldier and soldiers get bloody,” Luna said in a bored deadpan. She leveled her sleepy stare upon Gosling and his mother. “You did well, Private. We are most pleased with your performance. We had the utmost faith in your abilities.”
“So I heard,” Gosling replied as his mother doubled down upon her grip. “Princess Cadance said that you had predicted that I would deliver my dispatches.”
“We did.” Luna lifted her head high and something fierce blazed in her eyes. “This pleases me a great deal. We like a soldier that follows through with his duties, even when the going gets rough.” After a moment, Luna relaxed her stance and her heavy eyelids sagged.
“Luna hasn’t slept since you left. She’s been worried—”
“Untrue!” Luna snapped.
“—and she gets cranky when she hasn’t slept and she’s full of worry—”
“Lies!” Turning her head, Luna gave her larger sister a sour look.
“ —she was up all night and day and she was in quite a snit—”
“Falsehoods!” Luna stomped her hoof.
“—and during the night, she scared a few ponies so bad that they wet themselves.”
“Well, that We did do,” Luna admitted. “We were bored and We do find screams so very amusing.”
“If I don’t get food, I’m gonna die. I want pizza. I mean it. I want pizza and there is no way I’m taking no for an answer. I don’t care what I’ve gotta do… I’m gettin’ some pie.” Gosling drew in a deep breath, lifted his foreleg, wrapped it around his sobbing mother, and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “What do I gotta do to get some pizza?”
“Well,” Celestia replied, “I guess we do the only thing that can be done in this situation… we go out. I know a place—”
“But We art tired,” Luna whined.
“—and there are arcade games there for foals—”
“Tired or not, We art going! Guards! Form ranks! We leave for pie of pizza at once!”
“—and it might be nice to spend some time amongst our subjects,” Celestia added.
Satisfied, Gosling grinned. “Sounds like a plan…”
Exhausted, but ecstatic, Gosling finished off yet another slice. He had eaten dozens at this point and his belly was starting to bulge. His mother sat beside him, sipping a grape and rhubarb soda. Celestia was nearby, talking to a group of foals who had gathered around her. Hush showed no signs of slowing, he was an eating machine that gobbled entire pizzas in just a few bites. Hotspur was leaning back in his chair, sipping a glass filled with bright pink Cadance~Cola, looking a bit sad as he watched the foals flocking around Princess Celestia.
Seville, looking stuffed, leaned against the table and watched everypony around him. He was smiling and quite pleased, as one tended to be after a large meal at an all you care to eat pizza buffet. Beside him, Princess Luna chugged down yet another can of Crimson Minotaur. She almost appeared to be vibrating as she finished off the eleventh can, and she reached for the twelfth, going for an even dozen.
Somepony was going to be up all night going to the potty.
“We wish to play Whack-A-Pegasus!” Luna shouted at an incredible volume.
Ears ringing, Gosling wasn’t so sure he liked the sound of this game. “What?”
“Whack-A-Pegasus,” Luna repeated. “A little rubber pegasus sticks his head up out of the clouds… he is quite rude, he is sticking his tongue out, he is a churl begging for his comeuppance… and when one sees him, one must whack him with a mallet! When you do, he makes a rude farting sound to compel one to whack him again!”
Turning his head, Gosling looked at his mother and he watched as she shrugged.
“Come play with me!” Luna demanded as she raised her can of Crimson Minotaur. With a manic gleam in her eye, she downed the canned beverage in one gulp and then slammed it down upon the table. “We want a teddy bear and We shall need many of those little paper tickets. Private Gosling, thou must assist me, We require your aid!”
Feeling sluggish, Gosling wasn’t sure if he had it in him. He was exhausted. He didn’t see any way out of this however, and he thought about the importance of Luna’s happiness. After a bit of soul searching, he found that he still had a little left to give.
“Let me finish eating and then I’ll join you,” Gosling said to Luna and as he spoke, he saw a crazed rictus of manic, energetic glee spread over Luna’s muzzle. “Also, I think I might need one of those energy drinks you’ve been drinking…”
A headache was coming on. Gosling could feel it creeping up on him like a spiteful cloud gremlin and his ears had a dull ache that throbbed deep within, as if they were reminding him of the consequences of having too much stress. He stopped what he was doing, paused, and rubbed his temple with the side of his folded fetlock as he squeezed his eyes shut so he could rest them for a moment. The past few days had been rough ones.
The entirety of the government was almost grinding to a halt as the trial of the millenia was being prepared. Prince Blueblood and Prince Shining Armor would both head the trial as judges. Gosling was expected to be there as well, but as an observer. He was both looking forward to it as well as dreading the event.
He opened his eyes and the light stabbed into them like needles. He squinted, felt a crushing feeling of pressure in the base of his skull, and he took a moment to remind himself why he was willing to endure all of this.
Love.
His thoughts were distracted a moment later when he heard Raven say, “Gosling, could you please come with me? There is something you need to see and I think you need a bit of a break.”
How many photos had Seville taken? Hundreds? Thousands? Gosling didn’t know. An impossible number was spread out on the tables before him. The earth pony stood near one of the tables, looking proud of himself, Princess Luna, who was up past her bedtime, gazed at some of the photographs with an almost manic looking rictus of glee. Princess Celestia, who had also been looking at the pictures, lifted her eyes away so she could look at Gosling, who stood in the door looking in.
“I like this one!” Luna cried as she held up a photo. “This one does please me so very much! How do you ponies put it in the modern parlance of the day? Thou'st done goofed!”
The photo that Luna held over her head showed a moment frozen forever in time. Gosling’s armored hoof was about to connect with the bare and unprotected face of one of the train invaders. The pony was flinching, cringing, it was clear that he was dreading the impact of the blow, and there was a stolid look of determination upon Gosling’s face.
Seeing it, Gosling was quite surprised by how calm and collected he looked.
“The noble future prince moves in defense of his friend and his subjects.” Celestia’s eyebrow arched as her eyes darted over to the photo and then she returned her gaze to Gosling. “These photos tell quite a story and paint you in a very sympathetic light.”
Luna returned the photo she was holding to the pile from which she had picked it up. She took a step closer to Gosling, who still stood in the door, and her insomniac's grin departed, fleeing from her like snowbirds flee from winter. She became very stern and serious looking as she began to speak.
“A lot of ponies have gone missing. Many ponies never returned home, or showed up to work, many husbands never returned home to their wives, many mothers never returned to their foals. With their faces known, it seems that many of this insidious movement against us have gone into hiding. More than a few made good their escape from this conflict.”
There was a nod from Celestia. “We are having to set up a special task force to deal with the missing pony reports. Family members have a right to know that their loved ones might not have been who they believed they were. Many will be surprised to learn that those they loved and thought they knew lived double lives or had a secret.”
“I wonder how many wives thought that their husbands were cheating on them?” Raven asked, giving her thoughts a voice. Deep grooves of worry furrowed her brow. “It is going to crush them to learn the truth.”
“Seville has given our unknown and unseen enemy a face.” Celestia gave a sad shake of her head. “Sadly, that face is of our loved ones. Our brothers. Our sisters. Wives. Husbands. Sons. Daughters. The ponies that we thought we knew and trusted. Equestria is tearing itself asunder.”
“You have performed most admirably,” Luna said to Gosling. “By protecting Seville, we now have a wealth of information. By saving him, you did a great service for your country, Private Gosling.”
As he stood there, Gosling’s barrel puffed out with pride and for a moment, his headache didn’t seem so bad. He sauntered into the room, allowing himself a bit of a prideful strut, and drew nearer to Luna herself. He offered her a cocky, self assured grin, and then gave her a saucy wink.
Raven snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Do you have something to say for yourself, Private Gosling?” Luna asked.
“Yeah,” Gosling replied. “If I said yous has a nice body, would yous hold it against me?”
The room went silent at Gosling’s words, save for the faint almost imperceptible sounds of eyelids blinking. One of Luna’s ears twitched as she tried to process the innuendo. She blinked, blinked again, and then after yet another blink, her eyes remained narrow as her head tilted off to one side. She said nothing, refusing to give Gosling the satisfaction of a response. When her sister began snickering, Luna rolled her eyes, shook her head, and snorted.
Clearing her throat, Princess Celestia excused herself with a few gentle words. “I have incoming students to look after. You will have to excuse me, but I have a very, very busy day ahead of me. Seville, thank you again for your service. We will let you know which photos we select for the official Crown press release.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Seville replied as he offered his monarch a little respectful bow of his head.
There was a rustle of feathers as Celestia departed. She extended her wing and caressed Gosling’s face as she walked past. She moved with grace and purpose, calm and poise. She held her head high as she made her exit. At the door, she paused for but a second and said, “Oh, and Gosling… I am very proud of you. Try not to let yourself become too stressed. It worries me.”
And then, she was gone. The sounds of her gold-shod hooves could be heard on the tiles out in the hallway. Gosling’s perked ears drooped as he drew in a deep breath, held it until he could not hold it anymore, and then he let it out in a huff.
His attention fell upon the photographs upon the table. Looking down, he saw himself as others might see him. He saw a soldier wearing armor, doing his job. One photo captured the moment where Gosling’s helmeted head was about to smash into the skull of another pony in a ferocious headbutt. The photos were violent, some were bloody. Some of the photos had oversaturated colour and blood stood out in a garish crimson that caught the eye.
“I’m not much of a fighter,” Seville said in a quiet, reserved voice. “I’m just an earth pony. I come from a farm. But I love my country a great deal.” The earth pony let heave a sigh. “These photos are the best that I can do, the only way I can contribute. I’m scared though, real scared.”
“Scared?” Gosling asked.
“Seville had several anonymous death threats sent to him and promises of retribution.” Raven adjusted her glasses, lifted a photo in her telekinesis, and began to examine it. “Several have sworn to kill him if these photos go public.”
“What?” Gosling felt a creeping sense of dread send shivery shudders down his spine. He didn’t like his friend being threatened. He focused on Seville and tried to read his friend’s emotions. “What do we do?”
“I know what I can’t do,” Seville said. “I can’t give in. I’m going to make these photos public. All of them. I want Equestria to see what sort of ponies wish to do them harm. I want Equestria to see the ponies that tried to abduct me, who dragged me through a broken window and sliced me open. I want them to see the ponies that shouted and screamed at me that they were going to kill me… I want everypony—”
“Seville…” Luna’s soft spoken mention of his name silenced Seville and she watched as the earth pony took a deep breath. “Be calm, Seville.” As she spoke, Seville shuddered and let out a pained gasp.
“How do we keep him safe?” Gosling asked. His jaw clenched tight for a few seconds, and then he became aware that he was almost grinding his teeth together. He made himself relax and then repeated his question. “I need to know, how do we keep him safe?”
“He has become a soldier in this war,” Raven replied. She looked at Gosling, then at Seville, and then back to Gosling once more. “We look after our own. I have already made the suggestion that we house him here, at the castle.”
“Well?” Gosling gave Luna a hopeful look.
“This decision is not mine to make.” Luna turned to look at Seville.
There was a frightened prickle in Gosling’s stomach. He stared at his friend, took a step closer, and then got right up in Seville’s face, invading the earth pony’s personal space. “Seville, don’t be an idiot. It isn’t cowardice to be protected. Don’t turn down this help just because of defiance or wanting to show that you’re not scared. Don’t do this to me—”
Seville blinked and cut Gosling off. “Gosling, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, this is a lot to take in.”
“You can take it all in once we have you in a place of safety. Don’t be a moron, ya mug! These guys, these creeps, they’re probably counting on you to be brave and defiant and remain out in the open… don’t give them that… don’t do this to me!”
Slumping, Seville’s ears drooped and his back sagged. “It feels like I’m becoming a prisoner.”
“I know,” Gosling replied, “I know. Believe me, I know.”
“I wanted to do the right thing, and I still want to do the right thing, but ponies want to kill me now and doing the right thing is hard and I feel so scared and I didn’t know doing the right thing was going to cost me so much!” Seville let out a shudder and for a moment, it looked as though the earth pony was going to cry. “Some of the cuts were so deep that they gave me nerve damage. Nerve damage! I’m having trouble feeling my right front hoof now. I’m gonna have scars for the rest of my life.”
Extending his wings, Gosling pulled Seville in for a hug. The pair of them stood neck to neck, with Gosling wrapping his wings around Seville. The earth pony chuffed as he held back tears and leaned against Gosling with his eyes squeezed shut.
“I’m never gonna have a normal life again, am I?” Seville asked. “Be honest!”
Raven’s ears drooped and a sad expression settled over Luna’s face like stormclouds settling on the horizon, blocking out the setting sun. Raven took off her glasses, conjured up a small yellow cloth, and began to clean the lenses.
“No, but you will have a life, if you let us protect you,” Luna replied.
Hearing those words, the floodgates opened. Gosling suffered the sort of awkwardness that comes when one colt holds another colt as they cried. He stood there holding his friend, not knowing what to do, or how to feel about this, but he held on and refused to let go as Seville blubbered against him.
“It won’t be so bad,” Gosling said in a reassuring voice. “It won’t be so bad. It’ll be like two friends who live next door to one another. We’ll be able to do stuff together. Hotspur and Hush will be able to join us. We’ll all have a great time together. I’m sorry, Seville, I am, but you gotta do the right thing.”
“You became a reporter so you could see the world.” Luna took a step closer to where Gosling and Seville stood together. She lifted her head high and she focused upon the sobbing earth pony. “If we place you within the guard, you will still be able to see the world and be safe. Well, as safe as anypony can be in the guard. The train ride exists as a testament as to how dangerous this life can be. I understand that you value your freedom, but this is preferable to the alternative.”
“But I don’t want to go through prep camp,” Seville said in a voice that was almost a sobbing whine. “I don’t want ponies screaming at me how worthless I am.”
“I think that exceptions can be made.” Luna spoke with surprising gentleness and she took another step closer. “As I said to you previously, we can make the most of this situation, Seville. I know you value your freedom, but I assure you, a grave is far more confining than a life in protected service.”
At these words, Seville collapsed completely and would have hit the floor had Gosling not held him up. Seville’s backside did hit the ground though, and he sat there, leaning up against Gosling, who held him and refused to let go.
“Let us retreat to a more comfortable place,” Raven suggested, “and see if we can get a soothing cup of tea into Seville. I think you could do with a bit of stress relief as well, Gosling.”
Wishing he knew what to say to make everything better, Gosling clung to his friend and refused to let go. He knew that they both had something in common now, both shared a similar future. Both he and Seville would call this castle home, safe and secure within its walls, living in a gilded cage. Knowing this brought no comfort.
The nagging, persistent headache was becoming annoying. Gosling struggled against it, he could feel the pressure behind his eyes, and his mouth was dry. After a rough morning, Seville had gone to take a nap in his new quarters, a guest room in the uppermost reaches of the gatehouse. It wasn’t very large, but it had a window with a magnificent view.
The incessant beeping of the telegraph had done nothing to help with his headache, but much to Gosling’s relief, he was done with that for the day. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and wondered if he could get away with quitting early. He still had a few reports to file, folders to organise, trivial tasks that he could take care of come morning.
“Private Gosling?”
Opening his eyes, he winced as the bright lights speared into his brain, causing throbbing explosions of pain. He felt his whole body tense and his guts clenched. It took him several seconds to pull himself together and make a reply.
“Yes?”
He did not know the pony addressing him. It was somepony he had never seen before. She was of slim build, had a pale orange pelt, short legs, and her muted pink mane was bobbed. She had thick glasses balanced on her muzzle. She had a garrison cap that had been pressed to perfection and she wore it at what could only be described as a jaunty angle. No doubt, she had to use bobby pins to keep it on her head.
“My name is Watcher Summer Squash.” The mare smiled, but did not reveal her teeth. “Do you have a moment, Private Gosling?”
“I have a moment, Watcher.” Gosling stood up from his chair, wobbled for a moment as he got his balance, and he wished that his head would stop hurting. Perhaps a cup of coffee would help him feel better. “Watcher… I’ve heard that rank before, but I can’t place it.”
The mare snapped out a wing and with a swift assured movement, she brushed some donut crumbs off of Gosling. She leaned forwards to inspect her work, snorted, did a bit more brushing, and then looked Gosling in the eye. “Intelligence has its own ranks. I am a Watcher. In guard terms, I am a captain.”
“Oh.” Gosling nodded and watched as Summer Squash folded her wing against her side. How did a pegasus end up with a name like Summer Squash? He wanted to know, but he was afraid to ask.
“I am pleased to report that your days of wearing armor are done. You will be fitted for a doublet very soon. Effective in a few days, your new rank will be Lantern Specialist, as befitting your background from the signal corps.” Summer Squash pulled out a small wooden box from her own doublet using her wing and set it down upon the table next to Gosling. “In guard terms, that would make you a corporal.”
Unmoving, Gosling stood there, stunned, unsure of what to say or how to reply.
“I understand that you were probably expecting some formal ceremony, but we do things in a different way. No brass bands. No parades. We just get our jobs done and go on with our business.” Summer Squash raised her wing in salute. “Ex Ignis Amicitiae!”
Without even thinking about it, Gosling snapped to attention, returned the salute, and replied in kind, “Ex Ignis Amicitiae,” but did so in a far more subdued voice.
“You will still officially hold the rank of private in the night patrol. We will meet again, Lantern Specialist Gosling. Because of your close proximity to them, you will be reporting directly to Blueblood and Raven.”
“Hey, waitaminute...” Gosling’s eyes glittered with both cunning and intelligence.
“Yes?” Summer Squash stood waiting.
“Now that I’m a spook—”
“We don’t like using that term, it has negative connotations,” Summer Squash said, correcting Gosling before he could say anything else. “What is it that you want?”
“I want to protect my friend, Seville,” Gosling replied. “Is there, uh, anything that we can do to make him a little safer somehow?” His ears stood up in a most attentive manner and he tilted his head off to one side as he gave the pegasus officer his best quizzical look.
“How?” Summer Squash asked.
“Well, I don’t know, I was asking you.” Gosling kept his voice low as he spoke, not wanting others to eavesdrop, but also because of his thudding skull. “Wishful thinking I guess… I just don’t want him hurt, that’s all.”
Summer Squash cleared her throat, looked around, and then leaned in closer to Gosling. She placed her lips close to his ear, straining and stretching her neck to gain the height required.
“We recruit civilians,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “and we are discussing offering Seville a position in propaganda.”
“Hmm.” Gosling took a step backward and looked Summer Squash in the eye. He stared at her, saying nothing, thinking about what she had just said and trying to determine if Seville would go along with such a thing.
“We won’t ask him to do anything disreputable or dishonest.” Summer took a step back from Gosling, eyed the wooden box on the table, and then her eyes returned to Gosling. “Maybe you could give him a little talk and see if he is receptive to such a thing. We’ll feed him our intel on our enemies and then maybe he can do a little writing to explain to the public what sort of maniacs we’re dealing with in terms that the common pony will understand.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Gosling said to Summer Squash.
“Good deal.” Having had her say, the pegasus mare turned around, adjusting her glasses as she did so, and then exited the office, leaving Gosling alone. She shut the door behind her and it closed with a soft click.
Overcome with curiousity, Gosling opened the wooden box and gasped when he saw what was inside. Four little brass lanterns, all made with exquisite detail. A tiny fire flickered inside each one. His headache now forgotten, he stared at them with his mouth hanging open. Two would go on the lapels of his doublet, and the other two would go on his sleeves, or so he guessed.
Staring at the insignias of his rank, he felt his stress, fear, and worry melting away. Somehow, seeing the tiny lanterns with the flickering flames inside made everything worth it. He felt his spirit soar and a half-grin turned up the left corner of his mouth.
He closed the lid of the wooden box, tucked it under his wing so he could carry it, it was no larger than a book, and then Gosling decided that he was done for the day. He was overcome with happiness that he needed to share.
“Hey Ma…”
“Gossy?”
“Lookie.” As Gosling spoke, he set the wooden box down upon his mother’s table. He took a step back to get out of his mother's way, and then fidgeted while he waited for her to open it and have a look.
Sleet moved with a slowness that was painful to Gosling, eyeing the box, she sidled up to the table, reached out with her wing, and opened it up. Right away, she gasped and her mouth opened up in a round ‘O’ of shock and surprise.
Her wings flapped against her sides and her head jerked around to look at Gosling. Sleet’s blue eyes were filled with anxious excitement. “Is this what I think it is? Gossy… did you get a promotion?”
“Yeah I did, Ma. Lantern Specialist. I’m being transferred over to intelligence—”
“Oh, for the love of the blessed alicorns, my son is a spook!”
“Ma, we don’t use the term ‘spook.’ It has negative connotations.”
For a moment, Sleet looked as though she was chewing on a lemon. She glared up at her son, her face an odd mix of joy, happiness, and something else that Gosling couldn’t quite make out.
“Already, you talk like a spook—”
“Ma…”
A sly smile spread over Sleet’s face and her eyes narrowed as she looked up at her son. “I’m proud of my son. I don’t care if you are a spook”—her words caused Gosling to roll his eyes—“and I couldn’t be happier for you.” After blinking a few times, Sleet’s eyes glistened with tears.
Gosling watched as his mother turned her head and stared at the box that held the four little lanterns with tiny, flickering flames. Something about her happiness melted all of his stress away and the throbbing in his head eased off to the point where the pain was now tolerable.
“My son is going to climb the ladder and he’s going to do it by his own merits. A mother could never be prouder.” Sleet turned to face her son and much to Gosling’s dismay, there was sadness in her eyes. “Gossy… I hate to be a soggy raincloud, but I have some news for you… I suppose you should know sooner, rather than later.”
“Ma?”
“Gossy, Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor offered me a job. Now, I know how you feel about me working, but that wouldn’t be working. I’d be sitting in the lap of luxury, doing what I love. That’s not working, Gosling, that’s having your cake and eating it too.”
Smiling, Gosling thought of Flurry Heart and her boring nanny. A warm squishy feeling could be felt in his barrel, right about where his heart was. Having his mother in the Crystal Empire would make his trips north all the more worth it. He could spend time with Flurry, he loved the little filly, he adored her, and he could see his mother in an environment where she was happy.
“Ma, I think that’d be wonderful,” Gosling said to his mother. “You deserve to be happy. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll be heading north on a regular basis, so we’ll be seeing each other often.”
There was a sigh from Sleet and her wings rustled against her sides. “I gotta say, I’m relieved. I’m leaving in just a few days, Gosling. I got an urgent letter… it seems that Flurry’s previous nanny resigned when some twit made a helmet for her out of a crystal melon.”
“Wow… really? Who does something like that? It could leave a foal all sticky.”
“Who indeed, Gossy, who indeed…”
Princess Celestia was surrounded by foals. Gosling stood watching, leaning up against a support pillar, content to be watching her even if he didn’t have her attention. Even though she still wasn’t supposed to be working in any sort of official capacity, she was allowed to do this, as it was relaxing for her. She was patient, she was soft spoken, and as Gosling observed, he could not help but notice that she had some way of making each foal she spoke to feel special, something that she observed about them, something that stood out.
She was amazing, and he knew it.
When he heard giggling, his ears perked. He could see little heads bobbing up and down as they all turned to look at him. Celestia was looking at him too, and there was terrible mischief in her eyes. One little filly broke off from the group, she was a soft pale off white colour and had a dark blue mane with lighter blue streaks.
The little filly was fearless as she approached and Gosling lowered his head so he could a bit more at her eye level. She was small, so very small, and Gosling had no idea how old she might be. Older than Flurry. More developed. But he didn’t know how old.
“Headmistress Celestia said that you gave her cooties,” the filly said in a stern, bold voice. Her tiny brow furrowed and she came to a stop right in front of Gosling, inches away from his nose.
He was surprised by how well spoken she was. She had perfect diction, at least compared to what he was used to hearing, and her enunciation was spot on. She said her words better than he did.
“You shouldn’t give Headmistress Celestia cooties. That’s gross.”
“Is that so?” Gosling asked.
“Yes,” the filly replied in a very matter-of-fact voice. “That’s just yucko.”
“Say,” Gosling said in a low voice, “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“I am?” The filly looked up at Gosling with wide, curious eyes.
“Yes you are,” Gosling replied.
“What am I forgetting?” The filly’s ears stood up at attention as she waited for Gosling to reply.
“That I can give you cooties too!” As Gosling spoke, his wings sprang from his sides and he lunged forwards.
The filly let out an ear piercing shriek, a siren’s wail, and then she took off with surprising speed, running for her very life as Gosling flapped right behind her. Her keening wail echoed off of the walls and it was joined by the screams of her fellow panicked students, all of whom were now running for their lives as well. The herd of little foals scattered like chickens while Gosling flapped his wings and gave a short chase.
The herd moved as one.
As the foals scattered, Celestia crowed with laughter and there was a loud thump as she fell over and hit the ground. Clutching her barrel with her forelegs, she rolled over onto her back and rocked from side to side, squeezing her eyes shut as she guffawed. Tears of riotous laughter spilled down her cheeks and Gosling froze in place as he watched her.
“PRINCE GOSLING ALMOST GAVE ME COOTIES!” the filly cried as she fled.
Coffee. Rich, aromatic coffee turned a soft, gentle brown with heavy cream, and sweetened with more than a few lumps of sugar. Gosling knew that if he drank it black, it would sour in his stomach. The brew was served at ‘Luna Strength,’ according to the castle staff and the server suggested that if he developed a habit of drinking this, he might never sleep again.
Shining Armor would be arriving later and then the trial would begin in earnest. No more preliminary stuff or preparation. Gosling wasn’t looking forward to it. Out of all of his duties, this was one that he wished he could somehow wiggle out of. He wanted to help ponies, not witness their lives being dismantled.
History was being made. The high court was a court presided over by an alicorn. This time, during this session, it would be ruled over by two princes, both unicorns. No doubt, the entire country was abuzz with this development, and there were already editorial pieces in the paper stating that any judgment rendered should be moot, as two unicorns were incapable of offering up justice like alicorns, a fact that Gosling knew was bogus. Somepony was just talking trash. If there was an alicorn presiding over the high court, the paper would find ways of tearing them down as well, so that society at large would question their judgment and their ability to make decisions. One day, his own decision making abilities as a pegasus would no doubt be called into question.
He hadn’t seen Celestia since waking. She was still taking a bit of a respite and he was expected to work, although effort was being made to monitor his stress level. He wondered how she was doing, what she was up to, and if she was perhaps a little lonesome.
Seeing a familiar yellow-orange pony, Gosling felt his spirits lifting…
“Seville, how are you holding up?” Gosling asked.
The earth pony did not reply right away. He stood there, shifting his weight from his right side to his left side, and his ears rose and fell as he processed the question. After some time had passed, he replied in a calm voice, “I’m holding up, Gosling. Last night, Hotspur showed up with a pint of whiskey and we had a few drinks. Well, he drank… and I did too, but not as much as he did. We talked. He made things better. I guess… I don’t know. It is still a lot to take in. I’m being offered everything I wanted in life but this isn’t how I expected to get it.”
“Funny how that is.” Gosling looked his friend in the eye.
“I’m being offered a chance to go to university… it’s great… but I’ll have to do it under guard. I’ve been offered a career as a public perception engineer… I’m not stupid, it’s propaganda plain and simple—”
“Are you gonna do it?” Gosling asked, not meaning to interrupt.
“Yes!” Seville snapped. “Yes I am! I want them to pay for what they did! What they’re doing! What they did to me! What they did to you…” Seville’s voice softened and then after looking angry for a moment, the earth pony now just looked sad. “What they’ve done to my country… they’re ripping it apart. I can’t allow that. If I can fight using pictures and clever words, than I shall fight with all of my heart and all of my courage.”
“You sound worked up.”
“I am.” Seville let out a weary sigh. “Sorry for raising my voice. I’m having a hard time right now.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it, feel free to vent. We’ll have an easier time of this if we stick together.” Gosling gave Seville a reassuring smile.
“I always thought that was hokey,” Seville admitted, “Twilight Sparkle and all of her friendship nonsense. I found a copy of one of her books in my new apartment. Been reading it. It’s been helping. I don’t know who left it there, but I’m real thankful. It helped me make it through the long night when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Whiskey and books, whatever it takes to get you through the night, Seville.”
Reluctant laughter spilled out of Seville’s mouth and then subsided into a tired chuckle that lasted for several long moments, until it died, but left behind a warm, happy looking smile. There was a sigh, perhaps to fill his lungs with much needed air after laughing, or maybe just because he was tired.
“It’s funny, having Hotspur as my friend,” Seville said to Gosling in a low, subdued voice. “He’s older. I mean, he’s a whole lot older. It was like talking to my father, but different. There are things I would never be able to mention to my father, things I could talk to him about. It was nice having Hotspur around. I never thought I’d say that.”
“Eh, he’s lived long enough to get wise,” Gosling replied. “Say, you want to take some pictures when Shining Armor lands? That’s an opportunity if ever there was one. Try to snap a good one when he steps down from the sky chariot.”
“Hey, that’s a fantastic idea… I need to go and get my camera…”
It was clear that Shining Armor knew how to make an entrance. It was a valuable skill for royalty to have. An entire wing of crystal pegasi flew in formation around him and his golden armor trimmed in purple enamel glinted in the sun. The entire wing flew in a heart shaped formation with Shining Armor located in the center, riding in his sky chariot. It was a magnificent sight and the pegasi appeared to be flying almost wingtip to wingtip. It was the sort of formation that would take endless hours of practice to get right.
Gosling stood on the grass with Seville, watching as Shining Armor came in. A short distance away, Princess Celestia stood in the middle of her students, who were getting a chance to watch the impressive spectacle. They huddled around her, keeping a wary eye on Gosling, because he was a known carrier of cooties.
Blueblood and Raven stood near the airstrip. Raven was armed with her clipboard, day planner, the various tools of her trade. Blueblood looked bored and disinterested. Not too far away from them, Kibitz stood staring at the impressive formation.
It was a glorious day. Standing in the sun, Gosling could feel his stress slipping away from him. He felt a little wired and jittery from the coffee he had drank earlier, but he didn’t mind. He watched as Seville began taking photos and something of a smile crept over Gosling’s lips. Seville wasn’t taking pictures of Shining Armor, no, not yet, he had his camera pointed over at Princess Celestia and her herd of students.
“Princess Celestia’s valiant defenders defend her against King Cootie—”
“Hey!” Gosling tried to look menacing, but failed as he could not hold back his broad grin. “Don’t you dare report that!”
“But it’s a story that must be told.” As he spoke, Seville snapped a picture of Gosling. “I shall not be cowed by the likes of you, King Cootie!”
There was laughter from where Celestia and her students stood and Gosling felt his neck growing warm. Not from anger, no, he wasn’t angry with his friend, but he was embarrassed. Something told him that this was going to stick. It might also endear him to the foals of the nation of Equestria, or maybe just gross them out.
After snapping a few more shots, Seville turned his attention to Shining Armor, who was a lot closer now. The earth pony took off at a smooth, steady walk, heading towards the airstrip, drawing closer to where Shining Armor would land.
It was at this moment that Gosling understood that this was his future. All of this. What was happening right now. Taking happiness when and where he could find it. He had a greater understanding of Blueblood and Raven. They were trapped by this too, but they had somehow made the most of it. He supposed that they were happy in their own way. Moments like this one were the best that he could hope for, a bright shining moment where everything was perfect, allowing him to have a bit of a breather before everything became crushing again.
Shining Armor’s arrival, while joyous, signaled the beginning of what was sure to be a very stressful time for everypony. Celestia was dreading what this trial would do to her nation. Luna feared the long term ramifications and consequences, having worries that the common mortal would scarcely comprehend. Blueblood had been in a terrible snit since becoming the defacto ruler of the day and was said to be downright unbearable. Raven was overworked in a way that Gosling had trouble comprehending, and he did not understand how she kept going.
This was the life he had chosen. He glanced over at Seville. The earth pony had been pulled in by the gravity of this as well. Not much of a choice had been offered to Seville. His eyes darted over to Celestia, who was surrounded by foals. She looked happy, but he knew that was a mask. Deep inside, she was hurting, and few ponies ever saw it or even knew about it. But he knew. Gosling knew all too well.
The heart shaped formation broke apart and the ponies changed position. Shining Armor’s sky chariot was pulled forwards and became the point of an arrowhead, while the rest of the crystal pegasi became the shaft and the fletching. The arrow was enormous and Gosling watched as they circled overhead, making a great show for anypony watching the skies. After circling once, this time, Shining Armor did come in for a landing and he waved as the sky chariot drew near the landing strip.
Gosling’s only regret was that Luna was not here to share this happy moment.
Gosling was content to remain in the background while Princess Celestia fawned over Shining Armor and spoke to him about recent events. Around him, the air was electric, like the feeling of a thunderstorm coming in. Shining Armor’s arrival meant change was about to happen, big changes, life altering changes, the sort of changes that could make or break the fate of a nation. Gosling did not envy that level of responsibility.
A crown was a heavy, terrible thing. Ponies always talked about wanting power, about wanting to be in charge, how great it would be, how awesome it would be, but so very few understood how taxing it was, how draining it was, how awful it could be. Gosling supposed that there were some who would not find a crown heavy—and perhaps, those sorts were unfit to rule. Tyrannical despots might not be burdened with responsibility and conscience.
Perhaps those most fit to wear a crown were those who found them heaviest.
Celestia had confided in him that there were times when she was certain that her crown would break her neck. He knew that she hated it, he knew that she thought of abdication, he knew the weight was crushing her in a way that few ponies could survive being crushed. And Gosling, foolish colt that he was, had decided to shoulder some of her load.
“Shining Armor, you are looking well,” Celestia said to Shining Armor. “How is dearest Cadance?”
“Cranky,” he replied without hesitation. “She was so happy with Flurry… now she is almost unbearable—”
“You mustn’t say such a thing!” Celestia’s eyes widened as she drew herself up to her full height and towered over her nephew. “For shame, Shining, for shame.” Her voice was teasing and her expression was mock-serious.
And there it was. Gosling could see it now. The small rations of life giving happiness that kept Celestia going. The little doses of sunshine that kept her together. The same rations of happiness that he would have to learn to depend upon to survive, thrive, and endure the life he had chosen. It further reinforced the realisation he had made when he was out of doors, watching the formation come in for a landing.
He resolved to have a word with Seville about his realisations. It might help the earth pony adjust and adapt to this life. He glanced over at his friend, who stood a respectful distance away, only snapping photos at polite intervals. Seville’s photos would give the public a view into the personal, private lives of the royals, something that the public had never really seen. The way Gosling saw it, Seville had an opportunity to make things better… if he could show the public that the royals were just equines like everypony else, only with fancier interior decoration.
Ears perking, Gosling could hear Celestia laughing as Shining Armor said something about mares being irrational when pregnant. He was far to distracted by his own thoughts to keep up with the conversation and he had missed out on whatever had been said. Raven began snickering as well and he watched as she gave Blueblood a secretive smile. He could not help but wonder if…
No, she was too focused on her job and making sure that the empire ran with smooth efficiency to allow something like that to happen. Maybe they had talked about it, or perhaps she was just trying to scare Blueblood a little. And if that was the case, it worked, because for a moment, Gosling saw real terror in the prince’s eyes. Raven wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing either, as she took off at a swift trot, leaving behind a flustered looking and somewhat sweaty Blueblood.
Raven was not a mare that could be messed with, not if one valued their own life.
“Come, let us retire and have lunch,” Celestia said to Shining Armor.
At the mention of the word ‘lunch,’ Gosling’s ears perked yet again. Lunch sounded good. He was starving. And he needed more coffee. He wondered what was for lunch and for some reason, he was reminded of his school days, sitting in class, curious about what the cafeteria would be serving that day. Sure, he could have picked up a menu, but that would have required effort on his part and there was something pleasant about not knowing.
“Seville, would you please join us for lunch?” Celestia asked.
“I would be honoured,” Seville replied.
Hearing this exchange brought Gosling a sense of relief. While not perfect, things were going to be okay. Seville would get through this. Gosling realised that Seville was one of them now, and no doubt, Celestia and the others would be doing everything they could to help him adjust. The thought put Gosling’s mind at ease.
The room had been far too stuffy and packed with far too many ponies. Gosling had retreated, excusing himself and saying that he needed air. Now, he strolled along the parapets, moving from guard post to guard post, enjoying the cool of the night. It was going to be a big day tomorrow, a momentous day, a day when history was made. It felt as though an era was ending so that a new one could begin.
The first stars of the evening were beginning to twinkle, glittering jewels in an endless indigo expanse that stretched from horizon to horizon overhead. Gosling took a moment to take it all in, he stood looking up, and filling his lungs with the night air that held the suggestion of autumn.
Looking about, he saw her. She glowed with a soft, pale luminescence in the night, the stars in her mane highlighted the blue in her pelt, and there could be no doubt in Gosling’s mind—she was beautiful in her own way, much in the same way the night was beautiful, but also full of mystery. She moved with grace as she turned to face him.
She was every bit as different from her sister as night and day could be. Gosling felt his mouth go dry and he felt a case of the jitters coming on. Her eyes narrowed and he knew that he was being studied, perhaps she was trying to gauge his intentions, or his desire. He felt the need to say something, but he didn’t know what. The sound of her breathing was distracting. It wasn’t love or infatuation that prompted his feelings, but concern. She was out here, alone, all by herself, while others were indoors, enjoying one another’s company and having fun.
“Do you mind if I bend your ear?” Gosling asked in a low whisper, so he wouldn’t disturb the dark, sacred night.
“You would bend mine ear?” Luna replied.
He paused, unable to tell if she was teasing or just using old speech that he lacked the context to understand. Or maybe, she didn’t understand his choice of expression. It was difficult to tell. He shifted on his hooves, going from right to left, and then back to right again. A cold breeze caught his tail and made it rustle against his hind legs, tickling him and making him start somewhat.
“I just wanted to talk,” Gosling said, explaining himself.
A blank stare was all he got for his troubles. He couldn’t read Luna’s expression. She was like a marble statue, beautiful and unmoving. For a moment, he resented her a little bit, she wasn’t making this easy for him. She was being distant and he had something of an idea that perhaps Luna wanted to be alone, perhaps so she could brood and maybe feel sorry for herself. Or maybe he was reading too much into it and he was wrong. Maybe it was unfair of him to feel that way.
He decided to continue. “You know, talking. That thing that ponies do sometimes.”
“And what shall we talk about?” Luna asked.
Hearing her words, Gosling was seized with inspiration. “How about the trial?”
As he stood watching, he saw her lips press into a small, thin line. Her cheeks went taut against her jawline. He saw her nostrils flaring. For a marble statue, she showed many signs of life. He couldn’t tell if she was angry, or just reacting.
“You couldn’t even begin to understand my feelings or my opinions on that issue.”
That stung a bit. Things weren’t going as well as he hoped. Feeling dejected, he nodded. “Fine, if you want to be snobby about it, I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry.” He turned to go, feeling as though he had failed.
“It has nothing to do with snobbery or conceit,” Luna said in a flat voice that was as cold as midnight. “This is why We shy away from others. Thou art so quick to turn about and leave.”
Freezing in place, Gosling paused but did not turn around. He kept his back to Luna. “So then, explain it to me. Make me understand. If this ain’t snobbery, then what is it? Or am I just some dumb colt from the Broncs that couldn’t possibly understand your point of view?” He noticed that her speech was changing, perhaps because of her emotional state.
“You are a pony from a different time.”
Unmoving, Gosling stood still and waited.
“A thousand years were lost to me,” Luna said in a soft voice. “The world has changed so much. There is much that I do not understand. In my lifetime, I have seen so much change, but then I went away for a time… and I did not get to witness the changes like mine sister, I did not get a chance to adapt to them as they happened as she did.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know why, but Gosling felt the need to apologise. He turned around and looked Luna in the eye.
“When I was young, a young male such as yourself would have been a trading resource. Fine stock, suitable for breeding.” Luna blinked. “Make no mistake though, you would have been property. The serfs came with the demesne and you, Gosling, would have been a serf. I could have had you flogged for speaking to me, or even looking me in the eye, such was the way of things. But things have changed…”
Gosling waited.
“Now, We still have subjects, but mine sister frowns if We speak of them as property. That went out of fashion. Technically, the ownership is still there, that is what being a subject is all about… you are one of the ponies that come with the land, the demesne. We are obligated to feed you, care for you, provide for your needs, protect you, but there are far too many of you now.”
“I suppose that makes things complicated,” Gosling said.
“It does.” Luna nodded. “You have a level of freedom now that once belonged to ponies with titles, with ranks, and landowners. You vote… a thing once done by Counts and nobles of sufficient rank.”
“Yeah, we call it democracy. In democracy, your vote counts, which is different than feudalism, when your Count votes.” Gosling’s ears stood up when he heard Luna begin to snicker. He had made her laugh and something about that felt good.
Still chucking, Luna said, “So you ask me how I feel about the newspaper trial… but I am still trying to sort out mine feelings about the world around me, which is so very different than the world I left. I do not even know where to begin.”
“It must be rough.” Gosling felt bad for jumping to conclusions. This was far more complicated than he thought. He looked Luna in the eye, wondering how she felt about a pony like him making eye contact with a pony like her.
“I still find myself wondering why we don’t just strip them of everything they own, have them publicly flogged, place them in a pillory of some sort, and have them left to rot,” Luna said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper of admission. “And I feel ashamed for feeling that way, I do. It bothers me. The world has moved on, progressed, but I am still trapped in the past.”
Tilting his head to one side, he saw Luna break eye contact and look away. He could see a pained expression upon her face. He had trouble comprehending, but he had an inkling of an idea—Luna was somehow expected to catch up on a thousand years of progress, of societal change, she was expected to be a princess and to rule a nation that had moved on and progressed without her. It had to be rough. And even Celestia was still stuck in the past, Gosling knew this, but she struggled and fought a good fight to adapt to modern thinking. They had discussed it in therapy.
“My last husband… I loved him… I really did. I treated him well, but after having been exposed to modern ideas, I am filled with regret. I find myself wishing I had treated him more as an equal…” Luna’s words trailed off and her wings hitched against her sides. “Looking back, even with my affection for him, there were so many times I treated him as property, or spoke down to him… times I reminded him of his place, to mind his betters... I fear I will do the same to you. I have, in fact, done this to you.”
“Hey… you can’t judge what you’ve done in the past by the standards of the future.” Gosling took a step forwards, closer to Luna, and then he stopped himself before coming too close. He didn’t want to spook her, or make her run away. He had a stunning realisation of just how fragile she was. Down deep beneath the bluster, hidden away deep inside the pony that liked to roam the halls at night and scare ponies, there was a tender, easy to injure heart.
“I can do whatever I like by virtue of who I am,” Luna said, the first hints of becoming a little cross now audible in her voice.
“Yes, you can, and when you do something you regret, I’ll be there to listen.”
Luna’s gaze focused on Gosling. It was cold, as cold as the vast emptiness above the clouds. No expression could be seen upon her face. No warmth. No feeling. Not anger, not sadness, nothing. She just stood there, staring, and Gosling began to wonder if he had perhaps gone too far.
Or perhaps not far enough. “You know, that attitude of yours… I don’t exactly feel like your equal right now. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just talked down to me. Tell me, did it make you feel better? Was it satisfying?”
“No,” Luna said, spitting the word out. “No, damn you, it doesn’t make me feel better at all. Why even ask? Do you plan to gloat? Do you wish to rub my nose in it? Do you revel in the fact that you can say whatever you wish and I cannot have you flogged, for the fear of upsetting my sister?”
“Wow, when you get upset, you really lash out at those closest to you. Celestia was right.”
Lifting her head high, Luna said nothing in return, but gave Gosling an imperious stare.
“There are other ways of blowing off steam and relieving tension,” Gosling said to Luna in a gentle, but firm voice. “Pushing others away from you so you can sulk and feel alone is a terrible thing. It only reinforces your misguided belief that you don’t fit in. You keep sabotaging yourself—”
“What do you know?” Luna huffed.
“I know about the tantabus,” Gosling replied. He watched Luna’s eyes go wide for a moment, and then they narrowed until they were no more than slits. His ears twitched as he heard the rustle of feathers, both hers and his own. Alicorns had much the same body language as pegasi, and right now, Luna’s stance suggested that he was about to have his neck broken and his helpless body stomped on until it was unrecognisable mush.
It took him a moment, but Gosling realised that he was terrified. He did his best not to show it, but he knew that Luna probably knew anyway. There was no help for it. The situation seemed pretty bad and Gosling felt a keen sense of regret for trying to engage Luna in conversation.
He took a step back and began to wonder if he could fly away. Doing so might trigger the very worst in Luna. Gosling knew all too well how pegasi were. Show weakness and you could end up stomped. Fly away and you might get chased. He began to worry that this might end in violence. He began to calculate his chances, which seemed rather slim. If he bolted, she wouldn’t need to chase him, she could just blast him with magic. In hindsight, the remark about the tantabus had been going a little too far.
Luna’s wrathful posture shifted and her expression softened. She stood there, looking murderous one moment, then hurt and ashamed the next. She blinked a few times, then looked at Gosling with pleading eyes.
“We are sorry.”
Still frozen, still trying to decide upon fight or flight, Gosling felt his stomach muscles clench and a terrible, almost crippling cramp tore through his insides. He kept himself rigid, not wishing to show weakness.
“Please, I am sorry… I let mine anger get away from me. I am not accustomed to somepony speaking to me so brazenly. You… you act with such cocksure confidence… you are so bold. I have trouble dealing with you sometimes. You are one of the new things that gives me such trouble. Such behaviour was unthinkable at one time. But I am fond of you.”
Hearing sincerity in Luna’s words, Gosling tried to unclench his sphincter and relax a little bit, but he found it difficult. He stood, stiff legged, his wings twitching at his sides, ready to unfurl so he could make some sort of escape, if it were even possible.
“I don’t want you afraid of me…” Luna’s voice was almost a whimper and close to a whine. “Gosling, I am sorry.”
Staring at Luna, Gosling knew that he stood at a crossroads. He could let Luna have it right now, or he could be brave, he could be bold, and maybe try to reach her. He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry, and he took a step forwards.
“Don’t be such a bitch,” he said in a trembling voice. He saw Luna flinch and he felt bad for saying it. “Look, why don’t we go for a walk and talk with one another. You know, talking. That thing that ponies do with one another. We can try to sort this out. Or, you can just keep being a bitch and I’ll be glad to leave you alone.”
“You would walk with me and spend time with me, even after what just happened?”
Gosling nodded.
“I would walk with you, if you would bear my company,” Luna said.
“Just a walk and nothing more,” Gosling promised, “I’ll be on my best behaviour if you’ll do the same.”
“Such an agreement is amicable,” Luna replied. She lifted her head high. “Walk beside me, Gosling, as my equal, if you will…”
There was a cold, prickling sensation in his dock as Gosling looked down at his hoof. He didn’t like what he saw. Hoof rot. There were cracks in his once perfect, beautiful hooves. He lifted up one front hoof, his left one, to have a better look. It had once been smooth, but now looked pitted, it was rough, scratchy, and blemished.
Standing next to the bed, he stretched his leg out and scraped the rough edge of his hoof against the hard edge of the bedside table. It snagged, as expected, and he hoped that he could break off the soft rotten part without too much trouble. Just a little careful scraping.
But too much tore away and he felt blinding pain as the hoof split open, the tender flesh within tearing. Even as he stood watching, his hoof began to dissolve, melting like wax, and his other hooves as well, making it difficult to stand. His own weight caused his other hooves to break apart, to crack, to split, to bust open.
He let out a horrified whinny, but there was nothing he could do.
Forced to stand on meaty stumps, Gosling wobbled, almost losing his balance. His wings unfurled and he flapped to keep himself upright. Feathers flew like autumn leaves. Each flap caused feathers to fall out and drift down to the ground all around him.
In agony, horrified by his own feather loss, he gritted his teeth together, trying to keep from screaming. The pressure of his teeth proved to be his undoing. The first tooth shattered with an explosive pop, filling his mouth with shards of sharp enamel that cut into his gums, his cheek, and the soft flesh beneath his tongue. A second tooth shattered, filling his mouth with more sharp bits, and then a third. Somehow, in his sleep, his teeth, his hooves, and his wings had rotted. He felt a growing sense of panic and struggled to breathe, he fought to keep standing, and then he had to resist choking—his teeth were falling out from their sockets and he gagged as he tried not to swallow them.
As more teeth fell out, Gosling felt something wriggling around in his mouth, he could feel things slithering out of the bloody holes where his teeth had been. Something slithered over his tongue. He spat out several teeth and something long and wormy wiggled on the ground among them. More things wiggled and writhed inside of his mouth, crawling out of now empty sockets, parasites, dreadful parasites, he could feel them crawling around inside of his head now, just under his skin, they were inside of his tongue, they lurked above the roof of his mouth.
When Gosling opened up his mouth to scream, the parasites began crawling down his throat and he found that he could not breathe…
The bed was absolutely soaked with sweat. Gosling shivered beneath his blanket, he felt clammy, cold, and his whole body ached. He was having trouble breathing. He sucked in much needed air, his lungs burning, and he could feel a dreadful pressure behind his eyes. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get enough air into him and he had trouble moving, it was as if he was paralysed.
Feeling and movement returned to his limbs. He could feel his heart thudding against his ribs, like a frenzied bird thrashing around its cage. He tried to get up and spilled out of his bed. He had no memory of going to bed. It took him several long moments to piece things together, and then he found that he couldn’t piece things together. He staggered, then stumbled, and made his way to the door. He had great difficulty crossing the tiny room he now called his own. He thumped into the door, managed to get it open, and wobbled into Celestia’s room.
She was in the bed and so was somepony else. There was another body beneath her blankets. In his confused, disoriented state, he stood there, trying to figure out what was going on. He heard whimpers, a soft cry, and for a moment, he wondered if it was himself that he was hearing.
Knees knocking like an unsteady yearling, Gosling stood beside the bed, trying to make the pieces fit. His mouth tasted terrible and there were spikes being driven through his brain. His throat felt so dry that he worried that his flesh might split and crack. Who knew what might come spilling it out from within him if it did.
In the faint light, he saw Celestia looking at him as he struggled to remain upright. Blinking his eyes, Gosling realised that it was Luna that was in the bed beside Celestia. The cries were hers. She kicked and twitched in her sleep, she whimpered, and her cheeks were shiny in the dim light.
“What happened last night?” Celestia asked.
“I… I… uh, I…” Gosling shook his head, trying to piece things together. “Is she okay?” Gosling was startled by the sound of his own voice, it was dry and it cracked. It was also far too loud, even though he was almost whispering. It made his head hurt.
“She’s punishing herself again, no doubt,” Celestia replied.
It took far too much effort to keep standing. With a lurch, Gosling tumbled into the bed and piled up against Luna. He could feel her through the blankets and he pressed his body against her. After a moment, she seemed to calm a bit and her thrashing eased.
“Do you know what happened last night?” Gosling asked.
“I only know how it ended.” Lifting her head, Celestia leaned over Luna and placed her muzzle closer to Gosling. Her words were little more than breathing. “The guards found you and Luna in the wine cellars. You were passed out and Luna was weeping over you as she held you. She was quite soused.”
“Oh… I… wait…” Gosling stammered as something within his skull thudded away.
“Oh, believe me, I’m waiting.” Celestia gave Gosling a wry smile.
“Luna and I went for a walk,” Gosling began, “but then she didn’t want to walk no more. She took off and she begged me to come with her, so I did.” Gosling licked the roof of his mouth, trying to get some kind of moisture going. His tongue felt like a chunk of hardtack.
“So I followed her and Luna flew off to that old castle of yours.” Gosling felt a powerful spike of nausea and he was forced to close his eyes. “We went down in those catacombs again. Luna got all weepy over the graves and she wanted some time to mourn. She made me stand watch at the door.”
With his eyes closed, Gosling did not see that Celestia’s wry smile had vanished.
“I tried to give her some privacy and not listen. I kept watch just outside the door, as instructed.” Squirming, Gosling tried to get comfortable and he wound up using Luna’s neck as a pillow. “I remember Luna saying that I was the perfect soldier and that she appreciated that…” His words trailed off into nothingness as Luna let out a pained squeal beneath him.
“And what else do you remember?” Celestia asked in a gentle whisper.
“We came back to Canterlot,” Gosling replied, “it was late. I remember Luna saying that she wanted a drink… and that I had earned the privilege as a soldier to drink with his princess… and I don’t remember much else.”
“I would imagine not.” As these words were spoken, Gosling felt a wing caress his neck. He shivered and his whole body shuddered. He could feel Celestia’s breath tickling his ear. He felt a strange, nauseated state of arousal that was quite weird.
“It is almost time for me to raise the sun.” Celestia paused and continued stroking Gosling’s neck. “It is also time for you to face the day, Gosling, as terrible as that might sound. Being hungover does not excuse you from your duties.”
“Eh, we’ll wait and see how you feel about that when it is you that is hungover.” As he spoke, Gosling could hear Celestia snickering. He had a realisation, he loved her, he really loved her, because he wasn’t angry about her laughing.
“Gosling…”
“Yeah?”
“If she needs you to be her soldier…”
“Then I’m ready to follow orders. But not right now. I wanna go back to sleep.”
“Sorry, soldier, but it is time to rise and shine.”
“I’ll rise, but I’ll be damned if I have to shine.”
“Gosling, come with me while I raise the sun.”
“Um… no?”
“Fine, stay with Luna. I’ll give you another half an hour. Make the most of it.”
“Ugh, today is gonna suck eggs—”
“Yes, Gosling, I am certain that it will.”
He settled in against Luna, feeling the warmth of her body through the blankets. He felt Celestia kiss him on the cheek, then the bed shifted as the larger alicorn lifted her bulk out of it. He yawned and drifted on the edge of consciousness, hoping that the abyss of sleep would consume him.
“Thirty minutes, Gosling…”
Without a doubt, this day was sucking eggs. The light burned his eyes, the inside of his ears ached, and Gosling found that his balance wasn’t quite right. He had drank before, but never like last night. He couldn’t even remember how much he had drank. His memory of the night was hazy. He sort of remembered trying to grope Luna and offering to preen her wings.
The memory of being slapped was a little more clear. He deserved that.
The castle was abuzz with activity and everypony was frantic. Maids scurried to and fro. The castle servants were in a snit. There were a lot of ponies here, important ponies, there were members of the press, and there were guards everywhere. The area was thick with ponies wearing golden armor.
Seville was talking with several other reporters. The earth pony was a pony of importance now, well on his way to becoming a respected journalist. Gosling wanted to be at his friend’s side, but there was far too much noise for his liking. Instead, he stood off in a corner, trying to avoid everypony around him.
“Gosling.”
The voice was cultured and had a thick Grittish accent. Gosling turned his head and looked at the pony addressing him. Earth pony. Iron grey pelt. Dark blue mane with even darker blue streaks. Piercing blue eyes peered through oval spectacles.
“Or should I address you as Prince Gosling?” the pony asked.
“Oh, that’s not official yet,” Gosling replied. “And just who are you?”
“Oh dear, I do seem to have forgot to introduce myself.” The earth pony drew himself up to his full height. He was tall, with a powerful build, and when he stood at his full height, several mares stopped to stare at him. “My name is Mariner. Mister Mariner.”
The name seemed fitting, Gosling could see that the earth pony’s cutie mark was an anchor. He tilted his head so he could look up at the earth pony that towered over him. He didn’t appreciate the display of dominance or the hints of smugness that he was starting to notice.
“I own the newspaper that caused this unpleasantness,” Mariner said. He let out sniff, then tossed his head back, flipping the forelock of his mane out of his face. “I own so many newspapers… honestly, it is hard to keep track.”
“I bet it is,” Gosling said, struggling to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“Future Prince Gosling.” Mariner sounded distracted. “Got exceptional grades in school, a fact all the more impressive when you take your inner-city upbringing into account. Had you been born into a different family or raised with a little more privilege, you might have become a scholar. Impressive IQ score by any standard, never mind tribe. An exceptional soldier that has been recommended by his superiours for officer material. Unlimited potential… something I do appreciate a great deal.”
“Is there a point to all this?” Gosling asked.
“Of course there is,” Mariner replied. “Have you thought about what you will do with all of this unlimited potential? Will you become fat and lazy within your gilded cage? Will you recline upon a throne and eat truffles all day? Or will you perhaps motivate yourself for better things?”
Something about the earth pony unnerved Gosling.
“How will you serve the greater good?” Mister Mariner stood waiting.
“I could ask you the same.” Gosling let out snort. “This newspaper of yours is a real class act. A real piece of work. I do believe it is going to cost you, Mister Mariner.”
“Oh, I own it, but I have no say or control over what goes into it. I’ve never even seen the building that is the headquarters.” Mariner let out a dry chuckle. “Honestly, trying to hold me accountable just because I own it is poppycock.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Gosling narrowed his eyes.
“I am told that I also own the building that was you and your mother’s last apartment in Manehattan. I also own the museums in which the two of you were fond of frequenting. There is also the playhouses and the theatres, I own those as well.” Mariner sniffed. “That is the problem with owning so much stuff. You cannot possibly find enough time to become involved with any of it.”
“Those apartments… were slums… you should be real proud of yourself… full of bedbugs and landlords who ask for sexual favours in lieu of money for the rent. And you just mentioned the greater good?” Gosling felt the muscles in his back tensing and the throbbing in between his ears became almost unbearable.
“Well, I suppose I could just tear them down and build high rise luxury apartments. It’s not like the poor need housing.” Mariner chuckled again.
As the pony stood there, laughing, Gosling wanted nothing more than to punch him in his face. Knock his teeth in. As he stood there, seething, Mariner stopped laughing and became serious.
“I facilitate a service for the poor. I house them. I am not a charity. In exchange for the service I offer, I expect compensation. Payment. Profits from the things I own fuel the costs of future enterprise, meaning I can keep building more apartments for the poor. It means I can fund public projects like museums and theatres. The world is the way it is for a reason, Gosling, and you would do well to learn that before you go upsetting the order of things. In your zeal to do good, you would no doubt destroy the very system that does provide services to the poor, however meager.”
Gosling made no reply, but his lip curled back in disgust.
“Perhaps we shall speak again, once this trial is over. Perhaps you can be reasonable. Perhaps we can discuss the greater good.” Mister Mariner bowed his head, gave Gosling a smirk, then turned tail and left.
Watching him go, Gosling muttered, “Eh, this guy’s a mug…”
The room was warm with far too many bodies and humid from too much breathing. It was stuffy and needed air, but there were no windows, no means of ventilation. Gosling had something of a headache and there was a dull stabbing sensation in his stomach that made his current state of boredom quite unpleasant. He didn’t want to be here, but remained out of a sense of duty. He needed to be here.
Sitting in a back corner, Mister Mariner watched the proceedings, and Gosling kept looking at him. Something about the earth pony bothered him, put him on edge, he didn’t like Mister Mariner, not one bit. Truth be told, he didn’t care too much for most of the ponies in this room. They were fighting for the right to ruin the lives of others without consequences.
Sitting on an elevated dais, both Prince Blueblood and Prince Shining Armor made for commanding figures. They sat behind a heavy oaken table, both of them were wearing crowns, black robes, and vestments of office.
“—you cannot possibly hold a newspaper’s management or its owner responsible for the actions of a reporter!”
“We can, and will,” Blueblood said in a dry voice.
“But if a reporter was unhappy with their job, they could do something purely out of malice to get revenge.”
Shining Armor nodded. “Yes. They could. Perhaps it is time to do more to keep the ponies you employ happy. Perhaps better pay and fair, favourable treatment.”
“You cannot possibly expect to hold a newspaper accountable for the actions of its reporters,” another pony said. “What if a bad reporter makes a mistake?”
“Yet, we will.” Blueblood’s eyes narrowed and he turned his hard, flinty stare on the pony who had spoken. “It is now time to take responsibility and run a proper business. It is time to do background checks. It is time to make certain that the reporters you hire are well educated, and know the meaning of the words ‘morals’ and ‘ethics.’ For some reason, journalism in this great country is one of the few professions that seem to have no practices or standards. I aim to change that.”
“The cost—”
“The cost?” Shining Armor cut off the pony speaking. “Yes, you will no longer be able to hire the average pony off of the streets and send them out to do hatchet jobs.”
“There is no evidence that Morgan Walker tasked the reporter responsible for causing this mess to fulfill a personal agenda.”
The lawyer slumped down in his chair and turned away from both Blueblood and Shining Armor’s withering gaze. Blueblood turned to look at Shining Armor, and then back to the lawyer. He took a deep breath—
“Actually, that is exactly what happened. We have reconstructed the memories of said reporter through the unique magic of the Wardens that serve our great society.” Blueblood’s eyes glittered with fiery rage. “We also have reason to believe that Morgan Walker is a member of the insurgency group known as the Equalists, as he seems to have gone missing since the attack upon the train.”
“Justice is not blind… and her eyes are the Wardens, who see all,” Shining Armor said in a voice that was gritty with anger.
“You cannot do this—”
“Mister Mariner, I must ask you to be silent,” Shining Armor said.
“No.” Mariner stood up. “I will not be silent while this injustice continues. The two of you aren’t even alicorns. This is not justice, this is petty revenge being done by the Crown. Newspapers are a business like any other. They have to be profitable. They have a right to make money.”
“Not at the expense of the lives of others,” Blueblood interjected.
“It sounds as though you do not trust the judgment or the intelligence of the common pony.” Mister Mariner’s dry voice cut through the murmurs in the room and his eyes became steely. “While a newspaper should tell the truth, they are also a means of entertainment. Just look at the tabloids and the gossip sections found even in reputable rags. Surely, nopony takes these seriously or sees them as being truthful. Tell me, will you hold the marketers and advertisers to the fire if the products they create a marketing campaign for fail to live up to the clever claims they make?”
“Yet you advertise the tabloids as the truth,” Blueblood replied. His voice became haughty and mocking. “The hidden truth that the Crown doesn’t want you to know!” He banged his hoof against the oaken table. “Pfah!”
“We are not the ones on trial here, Mister Mariner. And your attempt to make us look bad is not appreciated. Now, I will say this one last time… you are to remain silent. This is not a regular court… you do not want the full weight of the law coming down upon your head.”
Mister Mariner arched one eyebrow and appeared as though he was about to say something, but he remained silent. He looked at both Shining Armor and Blueblood with undisguised loathing in his eyes. Gosling, from where he was sitting, didn’t much care for how Mariner was looking at two ponies that he considered friends. He longed to say something, but held his tongue.
“The press has an obligation to tell the truth,” Shining Armor said, his voice now calm. “The educated and uneducated alike turn to newspapers and magazines as a means of learning about current events, issues, and politics. There is an obligation to serve the public interests. If there is a scandal among the nobles”—he paused for a moment and looked around the room—“or even the royals, the press has a right, no, a duty to bring it to the public eye and inform them about it. But should they create scandal when and where there is none to be found, should they poison the opinions and perceptions of the public that they serve, there will be consequences. Dire consequences. You should live in fear of making a mistake. You should be cautious and hesitant to run with a story. Before doing anything foolish, you should do a thorough fact check and determine the truth.”
“A doctor lives in fear of making a mistake, for it might cost them their patient’s life and could even cost them their profession. Journalists should know the same fear. This attempt at scandal ruined a young filly’s life.” Blueblood’s harsh glare intensified. “I am going to allow a recess so that we might all compose ourselves.”
Angling his neck, Gosling stuck his face under the faucet so that the cold water could run over it. Eyes closed, he soaked his face and stood there with his head in the sink, soaking his face, his ears, and his mane. He snuffled and snorted, almost sucking water up his nose. The water here in the castle didn’t reek of chlorine and didn’t sting his eyes or nose.
As the water gushed over his face, he felt a nip on his croup, just above his dock. Startled, he banged his head against the faucet, which blocked up the water flow and caused it to go squirting everywhere. His hindquarters backed into something solid and warm as he pulled his head out from beneath the faucet.
He whirled around to face his nipper and found Celestia with an impish grin. He stood there, dripping, looking up at the mischievous mare. Much to his surprise, she licked the side of his face, then smacked her lips as she tasted the water that had soaked into his face. There was a faint squeak as the faucet was turned off behind him.
“What are you up to?” Gosling asked.
“Distracting myself,” Celestia replied.
“Oh?” Confused, Gosling blinked at her as his head tilted off to one side.
She did not reply right away, but licked him again. She savoured his flavour for a moment before she gave her answer. “My beloved nation is ripping itself apart right now. I rule over a nation divided. Sometimes, I think I can hear the distant shrieking of the windigos. As everything tears itself asunder, I keep thinking of abdication. Maybe I’ll found a new nation elsewhere.” She paused for a moment, then lowered her head, and looked Gosling in the eye.
“Would you follow me if I did such a thing?”
Gosling did not answer right away. Still dripping, he considered his reply, listening to the sound of water droplets hitting the floor, which made him think of rain. “As much as I love you and want to be with you, I feel as though I have some obligations to the ponies of Equestria. I want to help them. These are trying times. If I went with you, I would feel guilty. If I stayed here, I would feel regret. There is no way for me to answer your question in a satisfactory manner.”
“Sounds like a real corker of a problem.”
Unable to stop himself, Gosling laughed.
“Gosling, I have a terrible feeling that something very bad is about to happen… call it, well, call it an alicorn’s intuition if you will. I felt it when Sombra rose to power… I felt it when I battled Discord. It very nearly crippled me when Luna succumbed to the nightmare influence—”
“Are you worried that Luna is about to turn on you again?” Gosling turned his head and his snoot bumped into Celestia’s.
“No.” Celestia allowed her muzzle to rest against Gosling’s and did not pull away. “I should hope not. She’s getting better, in her own way.” She drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out as she said, “Gosling, there is something you should know about my sister Luna.”
“And that is?”
“She’s bipolar.” After a pause, Celestia added, “Don’t tell her I said anything. I keep telling her that she needs to tell you, that it isn’t fair for you to not know what you are getting into. We’ve argued about it. It was a recent diagnosis, apparently. A cadre of doctors have brought up the issue of whether or not Luna is fit to rule.”
“She is as ever changing as the moon.”
“Well, that’s romanticising it somewhat.” Celestia’s orange tongue flicked out and she licked some water from Gosling’s nose.
“Say…” Gosling allowed the gears of his mind to grind. “Is that why she sometimes slips back into old speech patterns?”
“Maybe.” Celestia shrugged. “That is actually an excellent question. Perhaps when fits of melancholy seize her, she slips back into old patterns to bring herself a measure of comfort.” Pulling back her head, Celestia licked the velvet fold of Gosling’s ear, which twitched as she tickled it.
“Hey, what gives?” Gosling’s eyebrows raised.
“I too, fall back on old traditions and customs for comfort.” Celestia smiled. “A long time ago, ponies licked and groomed one another. Plus, you’re salty and you taste good. I haven’t had anypony to lick for a while. There is a certain intimacy to it that a kiss just doesn’t have.”
“I see.”
“Well, Gosling, given the chance, I am absolutely positive that there are parts of me that you will enjoy licking.” Celestia endured a dramatic pause and then added, “And goodness, do those parts need a licking.”
“Uh…” Gosling’s cheeks darkened. “So… about that feeling of yours, that something bad is gonna happen, care to tell me more?”
“It’s just a feeling. Something bad might happen tomorrow, or it might be a hundred years from now. All I can know for sure is, my alicorn senses are tingling, which causes me alarm.” After speaking, Celestia nibbled on the edge of Gosling’s ear in a very equine like manner, and seemed to delight in how she made his body twitch and jerk in response.
“Sometimes I feel very conflicted, Gosling.” Celestia paused in her ear nibbling so she could speak. “Sometimes, I don’t know if I serve the land or the ponies who live upon it. The land perseveres, Gosling… so long as there is the land, there is Equestria. I lost most of the ponies once and I learned a hard lesson, the worst lesson that any ruler can learn.”
“And that is?”
“Ponies are replaceable, but land isn’t. It’s why I haven’t flown off to find a new land. I’ve grown attached to this one.” Celestia’s eyes misted over. “To preserve this land, I have sent countless ponies off to their deaths. I’ve had to purchase safety and security with the hardest of all currencies, lives. To preserve the land, I’ve had to learn to look at my little ponies as resources, as tokens that can be moved about on a game board, and as little golden bits which can be used to purchase what I need to preserve the land. By preserving the land, Equestria has endured for a thousand years. No other current nation can make this boast. But it meant sacrificing so many lives.” She gave her head a sad shake.
Gosling, flummoxed, shook his head. “But a nation needs citizens.”
“Therein lies the rub, Gosling.” Celestia drew herself up to her full height, which was considerable. She towered over Gosling. “Which is why I feel conflicted. I feel that I owe something to the ponies of this land. It is why I stay, and haven’t abdicated, though there are times when I feel tempted.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Gosling asked.
“Because of how you answered me earlier,” Celestia replied. “You feel an obligation to the ponies of Equestria, and if forced to choose between them and myself, you would rip yourself apart trying to make that decision. You understand what it is like for Luna and I. At least, you have a glimmering of understanding. You understand obligation. Ultimately, it will crush you, as it has done to me. I am a prisoner, Gosling, and the crown I wear is a shackle. Often do I think of freeing myself from it, but I find that the bond is very difficult to break.”
“I… I… I…” Gosling stammered, fighting to find the words he longed to say.
Celestia silenced him with a kiss, crushing her muzzle against his. It was not a passionate kiss, but an aggressive, almost violent kiss, one fueled by the consuming flames of desire. The much larger mare asserted her dominance over the smaller colt, bringing her weight to bear down upon him.
When he could take no more, she pulled away and glared into his eyes. “You too, are one of the ponies of this nation. There may come a time when I am forced to place you upon the board, so that the land will endure. Should that ever happen, I do hope you will forgive me, my love.”
Nodding, Gosling whispered, “I would… I would bear you no malice, I swear it.”
What little he had eaten threatened to make an escape attempt from his stomach. The stress was getting to him, Gosling could feel it gnawing at his insides. Celestia’s alicorn intuition scared him, it frightened him more than he cared to admit. Celestia was acting strange, it seemed the stress was getting to her as well, but there was also the fact that she was medicated just a bit at the moment.
The tension had to break somehow. Something had to give. Celestia was complaining about hearing the shrieking of the windigos, which was an ominous warning to Gosling. Ponies had lived under peaceful, idyllic conditions for far too long and they had forgot what dangers lurked in division.
He was not looking forward to returning to the trial. He belched and tasted stomach acid. If this kept up, it would screw up his ears and make them worse. He still had some lingering issues that could only be made worse if his acid reflux got the better of him once more.
His pace was slow and steady as he walked down the hall. He kept his breathing slow and steady, trying what Lumina, his therapist, had suggested. He needed to manage his stress better. Ahead of him, he heard quite a commotion. No surprise, really, the trial of the century was going on. Ponies were bound to be excited.
Rounding the corner, he found Blueblood and Shining Armor surrounded by ponies. Raven was here, and Raven looked scared. Raven had a poker face that a statue would envy. Right away, he felt his heart begin thudding in his barrel. Kibitz was here as well. The old stallion looked confused… and terrified.
“Slow down!” Blueblood demanded.
“Sir, we are getting reports from multiple cities of mass evictions,” a frantic mare said.
“Businesses are shutting down… we’ve received word that they are shutting down and laying off all of their employees!”
“The entire Fillydelphia steel industry has just been shut down and the employees have been told they no longer have jobs!”
“More reports of mass evictions coming out of Las Pegasus. Evictions by the thousands!”
“Slow down!” Blueblood commanded, raising his voice this time.
A spooked young stallion came running out of Raven’s office, banging into the doorframe and almost falling over. He held up a piece of paper over his head in his bright yellow telekinesis. “Manehattan has gone dark! The power plants have been shut down and the coal supply has been cut! The whole city has fallen into anarchy! First the evictions, then the closing of the businesses, and now there is no power!”
“What?” Blueblood, overwhelmed, stood there, eyes blinking, and sweat beaded up over the creases on his brow. “What in Tartarus is going on?”
Gosling stood frozen, knowing, understanding, realising that he was witnessing a moment in history—an important moment—a turning point. More ponies were running in, no doubt with more frantic, panicked reports. After a moment of stunned shock, Gosling wondered if he was witnessing a paradigm shift. He only had a vague understanding of what those were. The industrial introduction had been a paradigm shift for all of Equestria.
“Vanhoover has gone dark as well!” a voice shouted from within Raven’s office.
“What? How? What is going on?” Blueblood’s words were almost a stammer.
“Fillydelphia too!”
“Damnit, I want answers!” Blueblood shouted, his composure breaking. His eyes were now veiny and bloodshot—red, not blue at all, as his name might suggest.
“More reports of mass evictions, this time from Baltimare… entire high rises are evicting their tenants!”
“The telegraph has gone dead!”
“What?” Shining Armor looked quite alarmed as he marched over to the door of Raven’s office and looked inside. “What did you just say?”
“Sir, the telegraph, it’s gone dead. The lines are dead.”
Shining Armor gritted his teeth and stood in the doorway, fuming.
“We need those lines back up right away!” Blueblood barked.
Chaos broke out. Dozens of ponies all began to babble, shriek, and scream all at once, all of them panicked, spooked, every one of them frantic. The flurry of words became indistinguishable. Gosling stood in the middle of the swirling storm, shocked, trying to make sense of it all.
“It’s Mister Mariner.”
The soft voice cut through the chaos and everypony fell silent. Every head turned to look at Celestia, who was crying. Gosling rushed to her side, hoping to aid her in any way that he could. Her sides were hitching and tears dripped down her cheeks.
“Twilight said this would happen,” Celestia said in a soft voice. “For the second time, she warned me that something was terribly wrong, and she prompted me to take action. For the second time, I did not listen. For the second time, she was right.”
“What’s going on?” Blueblood asked. “What do you mean, Mister Mariner? And what about Twilight?”
Celestia’s eyes rolled upwards and she looked up at the ceiling. She stood, her sides hitching, her wings twitching, and a torrent of tears washed down her slicked cheeks. A lump rolled down her throat as she swallowed.
“Twilight warned me that he owned too much, that he had too much power. She said that he would retaliate if We moved against him.” Celestia paused and drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs. “I didn’t want to believe her… that one of my ponies would do something so terrible… she told me that I needed to seize his businesses, break them up, that he held far too much and that he was a threat to Equestria.” She shook her head. “How could I do such a thing? Such a tyrannical act… it disturbed me that Twilight even suggested it. How could she?”
“Oh shit…”
Shining Armor’s whispered utterance summed up the situation in a manner most succinct. Blueblood stood there, frozen in place, trying to take everything in. Shining Armor moved to stand beside his fellow prince. Gosling stood near Celestia, and he studied the faces of the ponies around him.
“Why would he do this?” Blueblood asked.
Gosling knew the answer. “That’s obvious… he wants to force Celestia’s hoof. Expose her as a tyrant… if she steps in right now, takes everything he currently owns and controls, and takes control of it, she can be branded as a tyrannical dictator.. a despot in the court of public opinion.”
“Gosling has the gist of it.” Celestia’s voice was little more than a whisper, but it carried through the entirety of the room, causing little fuzzy ears to twitch as they listened. “If I do nothing… if I allow him to conduct his business as he pleases, if I respect property laws, I suspect that millions will have no homes, no jobs, and much of our industries will grind to a halt. Our prosperous nation will suffer greatly.”
“I want Mister Mariner found and brought to me at once!” Shining Armor commanded. “If he doesn’t come along quietly, bring me his bloody head!”
“Shining…” Celestia’s voice was soft and not at all scolding. “Shining, dear, do keep a cool head—”
“NO!” Shining spat. “I’ll publicly behead the bastard right out in the commons for doing this!” He trembled with rage, the corners of his eyes twitched and jerked. His mouth contorted into a grimace of pain and blood dribbled down from his lip where he had bitten it. His teeth, now bared, were pink with his own blood.
“Have Mister Mariner brought before us at once. Use whatever means are necessary.” Blueblood glanced over at Shining Armor, then over at Celestia, then back at Shining Armor. “A public execution is a bit much, but I will not rule out the option.”
“Blueblood—”
“You are not in charge at the moment,” Blueblood said to Celestia. “I will consult with you and listen to your wisdom, but this is an open act of rebellion that needs to be cut down before it gains momentum!”
“Perhaps you are right.” Celestia’s voice was filled with sorrow. “Twilight certainly was.” Celestia’s long, proud neck sagged, almost as if some invisible force pressing down upon her head was too much to bear. “Gosling, please, if you would come with me, it is time for me to step aside and let those in charge do their work.”
“Gosling, go with her and keep her company. You are not to leave her side. That is an order.” Blueblood’s voice was one of commanding authority. “And Auntie…”
“Yes, Nephew?”
“I give you my word, I will do nothing rash without consulting you and Princess Luna first.”
“Thank you, Nephew.”
For well over an hour, Gosling could do nothing but hold Celestia as she wept. She sobbed, making a tortured, pitiful sound, torn apart by grief and pain. He huddled next to her on the bed, not knowing what to do, what to say, or how to make this better. This event, as a whole, was quite beyond him and his understanding.
The door to Celestia’s room opened and Gosling raised his head. He placed one wing over Celestia’s back, and made ready to chew somepony out for intruding upon this private moment. He saw a flash of blue, which made him pause.
Princess Luna came to a halt near the bed. She didn’t look well, she looked sleepy and out of sorts, as well as being quite a mess from crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and crusted over along the edges. She said nothing as she resumed moving, and climbed into the bed, settling in beside her sister.
“Mister Mariner has not been found,” Luna said in a low, scratchy whisper. “Even with magic scrying. He was well prepared for this and seems to have secured for himself some powerful magical defenses.”
“What has Blueblood done?” Celestia asked.
“Nothing rash. He has reassured the public, but has said no threatening words, uttered no bile, made no statements of ill intent,” Luna replied.
A sad smile spread over Celestia’s muzzle. “I taught him well…”
“He has presented a calm, rational face to the public of Canterlot. I think that many were surprised to see Blueblood behaving as such a capable leader.” Luna wiggled a bit, snuggling closer to her sister, and leaned her head against Celestia’s long neck. She closed her eyes.
“Any news to report?” Celestia’s words seemed hesitant, as if she didn’t want an answer to her question. Her ears drooped and she too, closed her eyes, as if shying away from what she knew would be a terrible answer.
“There is unrest in our major cities.” Luna paused for a moment. “Ponyville remains quiet, as do a number of our smaller hamlets. Twilight has been informed of the situation and she remains watchful for signs of trouble or unrest in Ponyville.”
“I should have listened to her.” Celestia’s face contorted in pain. “It is just like the time that she tried to warn me that something was off with Cadance. Her suggested solution though… to just so coldly strip Mister Mariner of his holdings on the chance that he might become a threat to Equestria… she was so calm, so confident, and she made such a rational argument that this was the best course of action.”
“It would have been a monstrous thing to do,” Luna agreed. “Sister, we must discuss the future of our great nation… this must never happen again. We must never allow corporate interests to gain such power that they become a threat to us”—here Luna paused and her eyes opened—“and our little ponies ever again. Powerful and dangerous monopolies must be dismantled, taken apart, and not be allowed to consolidate power. No single entity, no corporate entity must ever have the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. We cannot allow something like this to ever happen again.”
“And many will call it tyranny.” Gosling’s ears went limp and fell against the sides of his face.
“Many will not understand that we desire to protect them from those who would do them harm.” Luna’s muzzle crinkled. “Mister Mariner has certainly done them harm. Yet… many foolish little ponies will see him as the hero… the brave industrialist who stood against the Sisters, and was struck down. He will be seen as a martyr.”
“That’s just messed up.” Gosling shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around this.
“Twilight was right.” Celestia’s face twisted in agony.
“Twilight was twice right, but many of her predictions of panic, doom, and gloom have been wrong.” Luna rubbed the side of her head against her sister’s neck, trying to reassure her. “Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”
“But Twilight was right two times when it was of utter importance.” Celestia’s face continued to twist and contort. “Perhaps it really is time for me to step down—”
“Now is not the time for self doubt,” Luna snapped. “We do not have that luxury. And you cannot step down during such a time of crisis… Mister Mariner and his ilk will see it as victory.”
“You’re right.” Celestia let out a sorrowful sigh of defeat. “I don’t know how to fix this situation… I do not yet see a way of making this right that does not involve compromising our principles… our values…”
“And that is exactly what that Mariner asshole wants.” Gosling looked over at the two sisters. “No good choices here. Only two bad choices.” He paused, then muttered, “We have to preserve the land...”
Blinking, Celestia lifted her head, then turning, she looked over at Gosling. She stared at him, saying nothing, but waiting, perhaps hoping that he might continue. Her sagging ears lifted and she looked hopeful. But no more words seemed forthcoming.
“Our loyalties lie with the long term.” Luna spoke with a firm confidence. “For now, we must accept the fact that we might very well be required to make an application of force and behave in a manner most unseemly… to act against these modern values and instead do what is good for our little ponies, behaving as their proper matriarchs.”
“A mother doesn’t always explain why she does what she does.” Gosling nodded. “Sometimes, she has to do something to the little foal that she loves… something awful, but necessary.”
“I suppose you have experience with this, Gosling?” Luna angled her head and looked over.
Head bobbing up and down, Gosling nodded. “Suppositories.”
“Oh… oh dear,” Luna gasped.
“I didn’t understand why my mother had to jam icicles up my backside… I thought she was just being mean… punishing me for no good reason… I hated her for doing it. It was a long time before I forgave her. I didn’t understand that she had to do it, that she had to do what was best for me.”
Leaning against her larger sister, Luna gnawed upon her lower lip.
“I had worms.” Gosling let heave a sigh of disgust. “And when I got ear mites, she had to wrestle me down to give me ear drops… I’m surprised that nopony called the cops about foal abuse, with the way we fought. Those ear drops hurt. You could hear and feel the sizzle in your ear.”
Now, Celestia was gnawing upon her lower lip, in much the same manner as her sister.
“I just didn’t understand that my mother was trying to do what was best for me.” He shook his head. “I suppose that this is one of those complicated trust things… and this situation is no different. The both of you are going to have to do what is best for everypony, and they’re going to be angry about it, because they’ll see it as an act of betrayal.”
Alone, Gosling paced through Celestia’s chambers, fearful and bored. Celestia had gone off to have a private word with her sister, words that could not be said in front of him. Night had fallen, and there were fears that this might feel like the longest night since Nightmare Moon. Darkness and uncertainty shrouded the land.
Reports were sporadic and unpleasant. The only thing known for certain was that Princess Cadance would be arriving before the dawn. The Crystal Empire, ruled by Empress Mi Amore Cadenza, was not burdened by modernity and was a thousand years behind the times. Changes were coming, sure, but change was slow and the crystal ponies resisted change. They were content to have an Empress. With Empress Mi Amore Cadenza’s word being law, the Crystal Empire seemed totally unaffected by the current problems facing Equestria. She owned the land, the demesne, and she owned the ponies that lived on the land. She owned everything. She owned the businesses, the homes, the public buildings; everything belonged to her.
A thousand years of progress felt dangerous by comparison and Gosling had trouble discerning what his feelings were on the issue. On one hoof, absolute rule prevented a lot of disturbances. On the other hoof, he rather valued his own personal freedoms. The problem, as Gosling saw it, was that once you took a step in one direction or the other, one invited all manner of troubling issues to take place, troubling issues that had to be addressed and dealt with.
Perhaps it was time for the sisters to put their hoof down and temporarily take control. Absolute control. Thinking about this left Gosling feeling unsettled. He trusted them both to do the right thing, but the thought of them actually doing it, it left a bad taste in his proverbial mouth.
No matter what happened next, the future was uncertain. Something had to be done. Something unpleasant. Mister Mariner sought to force the sisters into making an unpleasant decision, and he had. The only thing that Gosling knew for certain was, he was on Shining Armor’s side on the issue of public execution. An example had to be made.
Or perhaps, he would feel different by morning.
He needed a distraction. He looked around, feeling trapped and useless. He was a very pretty bird in a very pretty cage and right now, being pretty wasn’t very useful. He saw a book beside Celestia’s bed, a book bound in blue. He walked over, extended his wing, and picked the book up. Eyes narrowing, he took a look at the cover.
Foalhood Development: Standards and Practices.
Huh. Seemed like a common enough book for a headmistress of a school to be reading. He caught a whiff of Celestia’s scent on the book and realised that he missed her. He held the book up to his nose and sniffed, inhaling as much of the Celestia scented air as he could. It smelled of her perfume… and of something else… her musk.
The smell left him feeling lightheaded. He couldn’t figure out why a book would smell somewhat musky. One eyebrow arched and Gosling cast a curious glance around the room. He sniffed again and had the temptation to lick the book. After another glance around the room, he opened the book up to have a look and began reading.
Almost right away, his brain felt fuzzy and his eyes glazed over as he read what was certainly the most lurid description of mounting a mare that he had ever encountered. It was graphic, it was detailed, and it was from the mare’s perspective. The description about feeling full, of fearing that she would be split in half, it was almost too much. It was difficult to hold a book and keep reading when you were fighting a wingboner. He flipped the page and discovered that the book had pictures. Not illustrations, but pictures. Oh, did the book ever have pictures. Pictures from above and below. From behind. From every conceivable angle. Gosling felt his belly go sweaty and his wings trembled, making it very difficult to hold on to the book.
“Well, this is most awkward.”
Turning his head, Gosling saw a very pleased looking Luna and a mare that could be mistaken for Celestia, except that she was very, very pink. From ear to hoof, no less. He felt his mouth open, but it also went as dry as the desert, making it impossible for him to speak.
“The handsome prince has discovered his Lady Fair’s stash of pornographic pictures and prose. It would also appear that the handsome prince is adequately hung.” Luna’s lips pursed together and then she made a popping sound. “Well then, will you have a look at that. He has a matching little white spot, just like he does between his ears.”
Gosling snapped the book shut and set it back down where he had found it. He cast a guilty look at Celestia, not knowing what to say, but knowing that their relationship would be forever changed. This wasn’t even a romance novel, this was pure smut, through and through. He could feel Luna’s eyes on him. She wasn’t even trying to look away. She was looking at his Gosle-Nozzle… his gooseneck.
Something about how Luna was looking at him made him feel self conscious. Gosling shuffled on his hooves and looked Luna in the eye. “So, have there been any reports? I’m dying to know something… anything. Is there any sort of good news?”
Nothing but sputtering came from Celestia, who could not talk. Gosling understood how she felt. One time, his mother had found his porn stash. There had been a long, embarrassing discussion about reality versus fantasy, and how mares were to be treated. He supposed that even if you were an immortal sun princess who ruled an increasingly ungrateful nation, it was embarrassing to have your secret stash of porn discovered.
“We have some dear, dear friends in Manehattan,” Luna began, “who have been working to restore order. Foul magic is at work. It appears as though the crowds of riots were stirred up by both agitators and ponies under the influence of a command spell of some advanced nature. They are working to counteract that. Wardens have been dispatched, but there are too few of them. It will be a long, bloody night for some.”
“But we can fix it, right? Make things right? Make things better?” Gosling’s voice was a low, worried whisper.
“We shall have to draw out Mister Mariner’s influence like a thorn and remove whatever magic he used to assist him, but yes, I think we can fix this. The long term effects however, will be painful for everypony.” Luna shook her head. “‘Tis so difficult, to regain trust once lost… a lesson I know all too well.”
“My book… my book had protection… it had protective wards,” Celestia stammered as her ears turned an even brighter shade of pink. “It was supposed to look like a normal book… Gosling… I… you weren’t… I didn’t mean—”
“I removed them.” Luna looked up at her sister and then let out a faint, breathy chuckle.
“You fiend!” Celestia gasped in shock at her sister’s words.
Rolling her eyes, Luna shook her head. “Gosling doesn’t seem too bothered by your perversions, dear sister. In fact, I suspect that he will be willing to indulge you in some of your… quirkier fantasies. Besides, a mare shouldn’t keep secrets from her husband. I’ve only recently decided that this is a wise course of action.”
“You little—”
“Oh hush,” Luna said to Celestia. “I plan to tell him my secrets too. As many as he can stomach. And we’ll all be a happy, well adjusted family, who all attend therapy together.”
“I need some air,” Celestia, who was still a very bright shade of pink all over, stomped off to the double doors that opened up onto the balcony, leaving behind a very smug and pleased looking little sister behind her.
As Celestia walked past, Gosling got a whiff of her, and he decided that he needed some air himself. He hurried after her, having to walk double-step to keep up with her much longer stride. At some point, they would have to talk about this, and it would be awkward.
Tilting his head, Gosling looked up at the constellation known as Poet’s Tears. In Manehattan, it was almost impossible to see the stars, because of the bright lights and the pollution. The air was cold, the night was clear, and each breath drawn into his lungs was refreshing.
Celestia stood beside him, also looking upwards, and Luna stood on his other side, looking downwards. Nopony was saying much of anything, and Gosling understood why. The silence had become so thick that it could be cut with a knife. He realised that it fell upon his back to get the sisters talking to one another again.
“So, uh, I couldn’t help but notice—”
Celestia winced as Gosling spoke and her wings fluttered.
“—that the uh, book had a remarkably detailed description of being mounted—”
As Gosling spoke, Celestia chewed on her lip.
“—and it was quite, uh, aggressive,” Gosling finished.
“Because of her height, she has a mounting fetish. She dreams about it often and fantasises about it frequently,” Luna said in a soft voice that held no sarcasm, no laughter, indeed, it was surprising how sombre she sounded. “She is Sol Invictus, The Unconquered Sun. She is the Mountain of Morning.”
“So, uh, because of how tall she is…” Gosling’s words trailed off when he realised that Celestia was looking at him. He couldn’t tell what she was feeling. He felt smaller somehow, and she seemed taller. She was feeling something though, her mane and tail whipped about in an agitated manner.
“Oh, come now, dear sister,” Luna said in a soft, velvety voice to her sibling. “Oh, very well… I suppose fair is fair…” Luna drew in a deep breath, sighed, and then made a stunning confession. “Sometimes, I place clamps upon mine teats and deny mineself orgasms after hours of stimulation… to, you know, punish myself. It makes me sleep better. Sometimes.”
Both Gosling and Celestia stared at Luna, wide eyed.
“Sometimes, I want a pony to whip me, beat me, and make me write bad checks.”
Celestia and Gosling’s eyes grew wider.
Celestia lowered her head down next to Gosling’s ear and whispered, “You have my permission… but no bad checks.” She shook her head in disapproval as she spoke the last part.
“Tragedy,” Luna said, ignoring the exchange between her sister and her soon to be husband, “it brings ponies together. This night will be awful, but eleven months from now, we will see a glut of births. Friends will be made. Lovers will find comfort with one another. All of this will blow over and there will be those whose lives were made better from this. Even we shall benefit from this.”
“Um… maybe?” Gosling didn’t feel wise enough to make a worthy response.
“We shall have to sort out our feelings later.” Luna lifted her head and let out another weary sigh. She looked over at Celestia and Gosling with wide eyes of her own. “A mob bearing fire approaches the castle. We are about to have visitors…”
Gosling landed beside Celestia in the courtyard. Already, Luna was talking to the guard, trying to get a feel for what was going on. More soldiers were gathering and clustered near the gate. He sensed that violence was imminent. Violence was the one thing that Gosling hoped to avoid. The memory of the train fight was still fresh in his mind.
A flash distracted him. He jerked his head to one side, looking for the source. He saw Seville. Of course Seville was here taking photos, how could he not be? He looked up at Celestia, then at Luna, then back at Celestia.
He knew what he needed to do, and it terrified him. He felt his balls prickle with fear and they were almost sucked inside of him as he struggled to muster up enough courage to say what needed to be said to Celestia.
“Princess…”
“What, Gosling?” Celestia turned to face the pegasus by her side.
“Princess… I don’t have a lot of choices it seems in my life,” Gosling began. “But I was thinking about what you said to me earlier. I do have one choice I can make.”
“Gosling, dear, what are you talking about?” Celestia asked.
“I can choose when to place my own piece on the board—”
Celestia’s eyes narrowed and became fiery. “No, Gosling, no!”
“Sister… do not hold him back. Allow him a chance to prove himself.” Luna’s words were as cold as the night sky around her.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with brisk, chilly air. Gosling drew himself up to his full height and he tried to look as convincing as possible. “Let me see if I can sort this out. Let me see if I can win these ponies over. I understand the futility of going against an angry mob, but let me try.”
“Gosling… no…” Celestia shook her head and her ears flopped in the breeze.
“Hotspur, Hush, I want you glued to his sides,” Luna commanded. “If he fails, do whatever you have to get him out of there. I wish to see if the future prince has pretty words enough to appease a crowd.”
“I’m coming,” Seville said in a somewhat timid sounding voice. “I’ll not let my friends go into danger alone. In our last fight, I wasn’t very useful, but I took a lot of good pictures.”
Bowing his head, Gosling said to Celestia, “Wish me luck, and when I come back victorious, maybe we can read a book together or sumptin.”
“You’re a rogue,” Celestia replied. It sounded as though she was about to choke upon her words. Her eyes watered, perhaps because of the frigid night air. She extended one wing and touched Gosling’s cheek. “Good luck, my little rogue. May your silver tongue serve you well.”
Lifting his head, Gosling nodded, then moved away to join his friends, ready to face the mob.
Well, it was certainly a very large mob of ponies, that was for sure. Gosling stood with his friends at his sides, staring at the mob standing in the wide avenue that lead to the castle gates. They weren’t armed with torches, as he had feared, but candles. The unicorns held candles in their magic, while the pegasi and the earth ponies held candleholders in their mouths. Beside him, Seville’s camera flashed. He wondered how the candles stayed lit in the Canterlot wind.
The group didn’t seem hostile, so Gosling addressed them in the manner of a friendly Manehattanite. “How you doin’?” he asked in his thick accent as he waggled his eyebrows up and down.
The mob stood, blinking, staring, and waiting.
“So, uh, who’s in charge here?” Gosling took a step forward. “Don’t worry about Hush, he’s friendly. Hotspur though, he’s kinda a jerk—”
“Fronk you, prettyboy!”
“That’s gonna be Prince Prettyboy real soon, and don’t you forget it, ya mug!”
Hotspur shook his wing at Gosling. “Why I oughta—”
One pony in the mob began to snicker, which made Hotspur go silent, and it spread through the crowd, becoming snorts of laughter. Gosling’s ears perked. He liked the sounds of laughter a whole lot more than the sounds of angry shouting, or a mob howling for his blood. He didn’t relax though. No, he was ready to grab Seville and bolt. His balloon knot was twisted so tight at the moment that if a piece of coal was shoved in there, it would come back out as a diamond.
A lone pony broke away from the mob and came forwards, a white stallion with a blue mane. He was wearing a red velvet brocade smoking jacket to protect him from the night’s chill, and a bright red fez rested on his head at a jaunty angle.
“I suppose that I lead this rabble.” The stallion bowed his head. “Hello, my name is Fancy Pants. How do you do?”
“Well, at the moment,” Gosling began, “I’m kinda freakin’ out a bit. The country I love fell apart in a day and then I get reports of a large mob coming right for the castle, and they have fire. Caused me some concern, if you know what I mean. I live there, with my future wives, and no stallion wants to see an angry mob with fire approaching his home.”
Blinking, Fancy Pants considered Gosling’s words for a moment, then turned his head and looked back at the group of ponies gathered behind him. He cleared his throat, then turned to address Gosling. “Right then. Dreadfully sorry, my good sir. I offer my most sincere apologies.”
“Fuggetaboutit. No harm, no foul.” Gosling relaxed a little.
“Indeed.” Fancy Pants pulled out a delicate monocle and began to polish it. “Positively mortifying, I shall dread showing my face in public for months.”
“So, what brings you out on this fine night?” Gosling asked.
The monocle was slipped back into a pocket on his smoking jacket. Fancy Pants cleared his throat once more, looked around, and then flashed a perfect smile filled with perfect teeth. “The grand old dame seemed to be in a spot of trouble. We gentle nobles, the gentry, and the fine upstanding citizens of Canterlot came out to see if we can offer aid. She stopped asking for our help some time ago, so we’ve been wasting away, languishing, waiting for an opportunity to show her our adoration, love, and respect. Now seems like the perfect time.”
Gosling’s brows furrowed and his ears stood straight up.
“We used to be very involved in the governance of this nation… it seems that we are needed again. We are so very skilled and so very talented, and yet our talents go to waste.” Fancy Pants’ smile became a rather sorrowful frown. “We miss her. She’s hidden herself away. All this bad press, all of this new fangled democracy and the ungrateful gits running their mouths, why, I fear that the old bird must be dreadfully depressed or something.”
“She is,” Gosling said, offering an honest answer. “She even thinks of abdicating… sometimes she feels that she’s not wanted—” He fell silent when he saw the entire crowd of ponies all do the same thing; their mouths fell open and they had perfect little round ‘O’s of horror.
“Holy alicorn shit, will you look at that,” Hotspur muttered under his breath.
“Well, I say, we cannot allow this to continue.” Fancy Pants shook his head and let out a dignified, “Harrumph!”
“I need an army,” Gosling said to the mob. “I need administrators, leaders, coordinators, planners… I need ponies who can get stuff done. Many of the telegraph lines are downed. Everything is a mess right now. I need ponies who can handle a lot of stress to help me sort everything out. Help me now, and when I’m a prince, I’ll remember you. I’ll put your skills to use. No more sitting around, languishing. We’ll get stuff done, I promise you. I have plans. I’m gonna revamp civil service as Equestria knows it. But I need an army.”
The mob murmured to one another, the sound of many voices filled the chilly night air.
“We are an army,” Fancy Pants replied, “and we are in need of a leader. Perhaps we can strike a deal.”
“Good.” Gosling lifted his head high and did his best to look commanding. He struck a noble pose, with his eyes narrowed and his wings flared out from his sides. His best noble pose was also his most handsome pose. He was majestic as fronk, like a beautiful, pretty eagle.
“The future prince is faaaabulous,” a very husky and masculine voice in the crowd said.
He grinned, unable to help himself, and he tossed his head about, allowing his mane to billow in the faint breeze. He heard gasps, which validated his vanity. He also heard Hotspur groaning. He was going to have to have a word with Hotspur. Seville snapped his picture. Life was good.
“Follow me to the castle,” Gosling commanded. “It’s time to go to work!”
A very dignified cheer rose from the crowd, a cultured sound. It was polite sounding, loud, but not too loud, after all, there might be ponies trying to sleep, and being too loud? That was rude. And being rude was was not how the Canterlot Elite did things.
Now lead by a fabulous and handsome future prince that was as beautiful as they were, the Canterlot Elite had purpose. They had meaning. They had style. They had perfectly coiffed manes and flowing tails that took hours to groom. They had what no other army in Equestria had; they had fabulousity. And as the newfound army made for the castle, they didn’t march, no, they strutted. They moved with fluid, graceful walks that took hours of practice in a mirror.
Seville, being the photographer that he was, walked backwards. He was too busy snapping photos to turn around and watch where he was going. He was snapping pictures of the most photogenic army ever assembled in one place. Each shot was a masterpiece of museum quality.
Somehow, as they strutted, the crowd had come up with a large white banner and on it, the image of a bright yellow rubber duckie had been made, probably with magic. It was held overhead, illuminated by candles and gas burning street lamps.
It was doubtful that Canterlot would ever be the same.
Princess Celestia stood flummoxed as she watched the approaching mob, led by Gosling. Beside her, her sister, Luna, was freaking out in her own silent way, twitching and fidgeting as she tried to hold still and keep her composure. Celestia was having trouble keeping her own composure. She had no idea what was going on and she hoped that Gosling would have answers.
She was also quite aroused by how her pretty little pegasus was strutting.
All around her, armor clattered as the guard tensed. A horn blared, and the sounds of wings could be heard. More guards were landing, while others were taking off to circle overhead. Nopony quite knew what was going on.
“Hello Princesses,” Gosling said as he came to a halt and bowed his head. “I have returned, and I come with my own army.”
Somehow, Celestia could hear the sound of Luna’s eyes rolling. She strode forwards, ignoring the concerned sounds of her guards all around her, and she stopped when she stood before Gosling. She stared at the banner with the rubber duckie on it for a moment, then, tilting her head, she looked down at Gosling.
“Gosling, dear, what is the meaning of this?” Celestia asked in a worried voice. When he grinned, she felt a growing sense of worry, but also relief.
“I ran into some of your old friends,” Gosling replied in a cheerful, almost boisterous voice. “They were coming here to offer you some help. The whole angry mob with fire thing, that was a misunderstanding.”
“Dreadfully sorry,” Fancy Pants said in a chipper voice as he adjusted his fez, making certain it was at an angle fit for royalty. “I fear I shall die from embarrassment at any moment. What a positively mortifying misunderstanding has happened. Quite.”
“We need extra bodies to help us through this crisis,” Gosling said, now sounding serious. His smile was gone. “We need ponies with experience in leadership. We need ponies with experience…” Gosling paused for a moment and lowered his voice, “in rule.” He sucked in a deep breath and his cheeks bulged. “If we are going to keep this government functional, we’ll need organisation, determination, and lots of knowledgeable ponies to get work done.”
“He’s right, you know,” Fancy Pants said in a low voice. “Hello old friend… it has been a long time, hasn’t it? You were my teacher and my friend once. You taught me magic… you taught me civility, decency, and the importance of being forthright.” The dignified stallion bowed his head. “In fact, almost every unicorn here was under your wonderful tutelage. Our lives were made better because of your love, patience, and gentleness with us… as well as your determination to see that we were educated. Let us help you… please?” His head tilted off to one side as he looked up at Celestia.
Hearing his words, Celestia felt her eyes watering. She felt her spirits rising, she felt her strength returning. She felt her courage bolstered. She tried to say something, but no words came out. She stood there, silent, her lips moving, and tears rolled down her cheeks, steaming in the frigid night air.
“Right. Well then, we have a lot to do.” Fancy Pants cleared his throat. “We need a list of everypony present, and a general idea of skillsets. We’re going to need enough tea and”—when the next word formed on his lips, he let out a visible shudder that made his hooves clatter on the stones—“and coffee, ugh, to float a dreadnaught, because I do believe that we’ll be working well past dawn. We’re going to need some skilled wizards to get communications going again, just like how it was in the old days, before this newfangled telegraph came along.” Fancy Pants’ mouth contorted into a distasteful moue. He shook his head, then added, “Right! What’s with this standing around! Shake a leg! Hut! Hut! Hut!”
“Gosling… I demand to know… how did you pull this off?” Luna asked.
“Because, I’m pretty,” Gosling replied. He spread his wings and then began to prance around in a circle, waving his wings, showing off his wingspan, and doing a magnificent impromptu plumage display. He waved his wings at Luna, waggling them about, extending his primaries, then turned about and shook his tail at her in a saucy display of sultry, sassified smoothness.
Celestia watched as her sister’s lip curled back from her teeth—Luna looked as though she had been eating lemons or perhaps drinking ipecac. Luna gathered armies through martial might and force of command. She raised armies by being a fearsome warrior, the terrifying Night Lady. Gosling had raised an army by, well, by being Gosling, and Celestia was certain that it must have galled poor Luna. All things considered, Gosling was about as threatening as a sopping wet kitten left out in the drenching rain, although photographic evidence suggested that he had a mean left hook.
She would laugh about it later, when it was safe. She might even tease Luna about it, perhaps, again, when things had cooled off and it was safe. For now, Celestia was content to stand where she was and perhaps let out a little smirk. A little competition between the two could only do them both good.
Canterlot was a city of beautiful ponies. Pretty ponies. Canterlot was a city with an abundance of vanity. Gosling belonged here, Celestia reflected, he was one of these ponies, and he spoke their language. Now, he had them mobilised in an army to help keep order through the crisis.
Looking upon her former students, her guards, the ponies who had come to her aid, and Gosling, her strutting jester, she felt hope. She felt excited, happy, and she looked forward to raising in the sun come morning. She had a lot of work to do, and a whole lot of helpers to get things done.
Perhaps, most importantly, she was no longer afraid.
It would be dawn soon, yet it felt as though the night would stretch on forever. Gosling stood on the battlements, exhausted, and taking a bit of a break. The cooing of pigeons could be heard below, they too knew the dawn was coming, and they waited for the rising of the sun. Passenger pigeons, playthings of the nobles, who used them for pigeon racing. Now the birds were being used for communications once more, and the many pigeon races, one of the favourite pastimes of the nobles, had kept the birds in shape for service.
Already, the birds were being enchanted, just like in the days of yesteryear, with aversion spells, protection spells, augmentations for speed, and attunements that allowed them to fly to the location desired with pinpoint precision. For whatever reason, the nobles of Canterlot had kept these practices alive and well. Their pigeons, once the pride of the Equestrian Empire, had been the primary means of communications, along with the pegasus pony express routes, both civilian and military.
In his guard training, Gosling had taken a history course detailing the service of the birds. He understood their purpose, their function, and there was a part of him that was pleased to see them return to service. The signal corps once had its own massive flock of pigeons, but with the coming of the telegraph, the birds had been retired, and with them, many jobs involving the birds had vanished.
It had been the end of an era, the retirement of the birds and the entire logistics wing dedicated to supporting them, in very much the same way that the invention of the train had changed everything. Gosling reflected upon all of these changes as he looked up at the stars, struggling to keep his eyes open and remain awake. He was witnessing yet another massive change, and when the sun rose, it would shine upon a very different Equestria.
The scent of coffee and tea tickled his nose. Below him, many of the nobles and citizens of Canterlot prepared for the coming morning. Seeing all of these ponies working for the common good made Gosling happy and gave him hope. There was quite a buzz below as Princess Cadance was expected soon.
Princess Luna would be departing soon for Manehattan, Gosling didn’t know what was up, but he knew that something big had happened. He knew that he would find out in time. As for Celestia, she was sleeping. She needed sleep, she needed rest, even with the crisis going on. Truth be told, Gosling needed sleep as well. He was waiting for the dawn, and when it came, he would go to bed, but he had promised to remain with the nobles throughout the night.
They were his army, and he owed them that.
Hearing hooves on the stone, Gosling turned his head and saw a weary looking Shining Armor approaching. He wasn’t wearing his armor, but he was wearing a cloak draped over his back for warmth. Gosling gave him a nod as he approached.
“So, Shining, any news?”
Eyelids sagging, ears drooping, Shining Armor came to a halt beside Gosling. He yawned, shook his head, and flicked his tail. He drew in a deep breath and then replied, “A major battle was fought in Manehattan. Princess Luna is going to deal with the aftermath.” He shook his head, looking sad. “From my understanding, Luna lost some ponies she knows. I don’t know them, but she seemed quite shaken by the news. Four unicorns did battle with one of Mister Mariner’s agents. Luna said they died with a stiff upper lip.”
“Four on one? And they still lost?” Gosling’s ears stood up.
Shining Armor let out a sigh. “There was help. Mariner’s agent was aided by changelings. Strange changelings. If the report is to be believed, free changelings of independent mind.”
“Was this agent captured?” Gosling asked.
There was no reply from Shining Armor, not right away. His back drooped and his tail sagged. He let out another sigh, this one made him sound quite weary. “This agent poured poison down her own ear rather than be captured. There was a fierce battle, I don’t know everything that has taken place just yet. I do know that one of the changelings was taken alive and he is being brought to Canterlot.”
Hearing Shining Armor’s words, Gosling discovered that he was too exhausted to be filled with fury, or anger, or anything really. He was tired and had trouble mustering any sort of emotion about the situation. He was almost asleep on his hooves. He let out a disgruntled whinny, which was all he could do at the moment. Faced with a bleak feeling of despair, Gosling nudged the subject over to something else.
“Think we’ll be able to fix all of this?” Gosling asked.
“No,” Shining Armor said without a moment’s hesitation. “Mister Mariner knew what was he was doing. He has exposed all of the cracks in the system. He has shown us that the great nation of Equestria has hooves of clay.”
“I don’t understand.” Gosling really didn’t understand. Things seemed as though they could still be fixed, but it would take some doing. Also, some unpopular acts would have to be done. “Can’t the Sisters just make things stay the way they are? I’ve been thinking about it. Why not just seize his property? Take the apartments, the factories, the everything, and just force it to stay open. Keep the workers working—”
“Gosling, it isn’t that simple,” Shining Armor said in a weary voice as he shook his head.
“Help me understand, so I’m not so stupid about it. I want to help. If I can’t understand it, I can’t help.” Gosling saw Shining Armor looking at him in a strange way and he wondered what Shining was thinking. “Why can’t the Sisters just keep the factories going and why can’t ponies keep their jobs?”
Shining Armor closed his eyes and stood there for a moment, his barrel expanding and contracting as he sucked in the cold night air. It seemed darkest and coldest right now, before the dawn. “Gosling, even if the factories stayed open, how would the workers get paid?”
“With money?” Gosling replied.
“What money?” Shining Armor’s eyes opened. “Whose money? All those millions of ponies that Mister Mariner employed, how do you propose we pay them? If the Sisters were to pay their wages, they would be bankrupt before the month is over.”
Hearing Shining Armor’s words, Gosling’s ears drooped. “What about taking Mister Mariner’s money to pay them?”
“Gosling, here is a little secret. The money in this country, it is all a lie.” As Shining spoke, his eyes glittered and the corner of his mouth twitched. “In fact, pretty much everything you think you know about wealth and prosperity is all crap. It’s all a lie, a clever deception, and it is one fostered by the Sisters.”
“What?” Gosling took a step backwards.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Shining admitted. “So, let’s start with the good old days. A long, long time ago, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna owned everything. They owned the land, they owned the ponies, they had all of the wealth. The nobles had a little bit too. But wealth was a physical thing. The wealth that the Sisters had was the wealth of the nation. So they protected it, nurtured it, they made sure that it grew, because if it grew, the nation grew with it. Are you with me?”
Gosling nodded.
“And so it was for a very long time. Equestria’s wealth was real. It was a physical thing. And for a long time, this was enough. Equestria grew quite wealthy under the just rule of Princess Celestia. Princess Luna was banished at this point. With all of the wealth, there was something of a revolution. The ponies of Equestria wanted some of it. They wanted to own land, be wealthy, and to have something to show for all of their hard work. Princess Celestia advised against it, because even then, she knew the consequences.”
As Gosling stood watching, Shining Armor took a deep breath, and then continued.
“There was a revolution of sorts, and Princess Celestia, not wanting it to turn into a bloody civil war, allowed it to happen and she gave her subjects what they wanted. Wealth.” Shining Armor spat out the last word as if it had a bad taste. “And for a time, everything was okay. A new merchant class sprang up and their money rivaled the nobles. The merchants weren’t like the nobles though, they didn’t have centuries of wisdom regarding wealth and how to care for it. The merchant class was only happy if their wealth grew and kept growing. It was a reckless contest among them to see who might make the most coin.”
Gosling tilted his head to one side, this didn’t sound so bad, in fact, it sounded pretty reasonable. He was himself a firm believer in making money, and he liked earning extra pay with hard work. He wondered how this could be a bad thing.
“The merchant class grew and grew, and with them, guilds. Soon, a major problem became apparent. A big problem that none of the now wealthy peasants had even thought about.” Shining Armor shook his head in disgust. “There is only so much wealth… and the more one has of it, the less there is to go around. Land is a finite thing, so are resources, and wealth has to be backed for it to be valuable. With all of the new wealthy peasants and landowners, physical wealth in this country became spread thin. Suddenly, everypony was poor, including Princess Celestia. With the new merchant class having so much money, suddenly, her vast holdings weren’t worth as much, and neither was anypony else's.”
“Huh?” Gosling’s mouth fell open.
“It all comes down to availability, Gosling, and the more ponies that have wealth available, make it harder to come by for those born in poverty. Wealth has gravity, it consolidates if you aren’t careful.” Shining Armor gave himself a shake and began adjusting his cloak, spreading it over his back and neck.
“I don’t understand,” Gosling said as he turned away from Shining Armor. He felt stupid for not seeing the problem, and still felt that wealth was a good thing, though he was starting to feel some doubt.
“With the merchant class now having money, and the guilds, everypony felt entitled to ‘finding their fortune.’ It became a big part of our society. Young ponies left home and were told to find their fortune. Everypony was entitled to a certain amount of wealth, or so they thought, if they worked hard. And this is where everything goes wrong.”
“How is that a bad thing?” Gosling asked. “You work hard, you get paid, you make money, and life gets better.” He was a firm believe in this himself, and Gosling was proud that he made as much money as he did at his age.
“No.” Shining Armor shook his head. “Nope, life gets worse, the lie gets bigger, and the problem festers, growing larger.”
“Explain.” Gosling’s eyebrow arched.
“None of Equestria’s money is real,” Shining Armor admitted in a low voice. “That’s the problem. For everypony to be wealthy, nopony can be wealthy.”
“Mister Mariner is a billionaire. But I can assure you, there are not a billion coins in Equestria. I’ve been inside the Canterlot Royal Treasury. There are no coins in there, no gold bars, no piles of gems. Inside of the Royal Treasury, all you will find are books, Gosling, ledgers. With the millions and millions of ponies we now have in Equestria, and with all of them making money and wanting to live comfortable lives, real actual wealth vanished a long time ago. None of the money is real. It’s all make believe, Gosling, numbers written down on paper, and none of it is actually backed by anything, like how it was back in the old days. Ponies like Mister Mariner and others can’t become billionaire barons… nopony could. The resources aren’t there. But to hold them back… would be considered tyranny. A pony has a right to make their fortune.”
Knees now knocking, Gosling felt as though the rug was being yanked out from beneath him.
“Ponies like Mister Mariner have more wealth and resources than the Sisters do. Mister Mariner is Equestria… and ponies like him. He is part of a vast machine that creates imaginary money and spreads it around to ponies, money that is worthless, meaningless, and has no value. And with but a soft touch upon its brittle clay hooves, the empire could crumble.”
And Gosling could say nothing.
“So, here is where the Sisters stand… seize his assets? What assets? A set of numbers in a ledger somewhere? If the Sisters do anything, anything at all, if they move to seize his fortune and it causes a panic among the other rich and privileged, what do you think will happen if a bunch of wealthy ponies all suddenly decide to pull their money out of the bank? Money that doesn’t exist? All of these ponies, with all of this imaginary money, and all of them wanting to pull their so called wealth out of a system they no longer believe in… and then what happens?”
“I don’t know,” Gosling said in a hoarse whisper.
“This country falls into anarchy, that’s what happens.” Shining Armor’s ears angled forwards over his eyes. “Now we are held hostage by the lie, it has grown, gained power, has become a terrible monster that threatens to devour us all. Even the Sisters live in fear of it, it rules Equestria through fear and keeps us all too divided to battle against it using tactics such as social class and wage disparity.”
“But it isn’t real,” Gosling whimpered.
“We made it real by choosing to believe in it,” Shining Armor snapped. “Ponies want to believe that they can grow up and be millionaires or billionaires. Mister Mariner came to this country broke, with nothing to his name. He worked on the docks, saved, scrimped, bought his own business, and then began to buy the businesses of others. He gives hope to others that they too, can do the same. But for this hope to exist, we have to continue living the lie that the wealth we have is real.”
“So… in order to achieve the Equestrian dream, you have to be asleep?” Gosling asked.
Shining Armor nodded. “More or less. None of this is real, Gosling, and with recent events, all of this could come toppling down. Nopony wants to discover that they have nothing and everything they believed in was a lie.”
Gosling nodded. “Not a good feeling… not a good feeling at all.”
As Gosling spoke, the first rays of pink appeared upon the horizon...
There was no feeling quite like being dead on your hooves. It was only Gosling’s guard training that kept him awake. A new day had dawned upon Canterlot, and with it, hope. Princess Celestia would soon address the nation and then various means of communication would be used to spread the message. Gosling had no clue what she planned to say, but it was probably something gracious and graceful.
Princess Cadance had arrived, but Gosling had not yet seen her. He had spent the past hour or so at the telegraph, which had been restored, sending and receiving coded messages. He had to code on the fly with no mistakes, and in his current state, it had almost been an impossible task. He was done for, and he knew it. But he was proud, satisfied, he had done his part during the crisis and others had seen him at his best.
Now that the day was here, Gosling was looking forward to going to bed. He trudged through the hallway, his hooves dragging, his tail sagging, and his wings drooping at his sides. He had nothing left to give and he regretted that he couldn’t do more.
“Gosling…”
The soft voice made him freeze in his tracks. Mindful of how terrible he must look at this point, he gave himself a shake, then turned to face Cadance. He tried to stand at attention out of habit, but he failed in a most spectacular fashion—he somehow managed to make himself look even slouchier.
“I know you are going to a well deserved rest, but I must ask for just a moment of your time,” Cadance said in a low voice.
“Sure.” Gosling raised his wing in a half hearted salute, again, out of habit.
“I don’t know what you’ve done, but you’ve given my aunt back her mojo.”
“I did what?” Gosling stared at Cadance through bleary eyes that refused to focus.
“My aunt. Your future wife. She has her mojo back. She is as I remember her. She has her confidence and poise again. She’s shoved Blueblood out of the way and taken command of the situation.” Cadance reached out her wing and stroked Gosling’s cheek. “I heard that you rallied the nobles of Canterlot… I think that had something to do with it.”
“I do my best.” Gosling gave Cadance a sleepy smile. “Say, Cadance… I has me a question.”
“Ask, Gosling.”
“Why can’t you make the fighting end? Why can’t you… oh, I dunno, just lay down the magical whammy jammy and make everypony be nice to one another? Maybe remind them how much they love their princesses? It seems like you could be doing more.” Gosling saw something flash in Cadance’s eyes, something dangerous.
“That would be awful, Gosling.”
“Would it?” Gosling asked. “Would making the fighting stop be so terrible?”
Cadance did not reply, but her expression became quite sad. A look of sorrowful regret spread over her fine features, and she let out a weary sigh. Her horn ignited and glowed with a brilliant pink luminescence that filled the hallway around both her and Gosling. Aetherfire arced along her horn and her ears drooped.
And it was then that Gosling felt it, the crushing weight of love. He loved Cadance more than anything at that moment. He loved her and adored her. She was beautiful and perfect. She was worthy of his adoration, his affection, and his love. But the weight was crushing, because he wasn’t worthy of her. No, she was too perfect, too wonderful, she was perfection in the form of a pretty pink alicorn princess.
With a gasp, Gosling fell to the stone floor and prostrated himself before her. He writhed, feeling a strange, terrible pain inside, the pain brought on by the knowledge that he was not worthy to stand in the light of her glory. He lay on the floor in a miserable heap and covered his eyes with his wings, as he knew that he wasn’t worthy of looking at her either. He wasn’t even fit to breathe the same air as her and he tried to stop breathing.
Oh, but if given the chance, he would make himself worthy. He would die for her. Without hesitation. He would do anything to make the dull ache of longing go away. A pleading whimper escaped his lips as he continued to writhe on the floor with his face covered.
“This is a terrible power, is it not?” Cadance asked, her voice both terrible and beautiful in Gosling’s quivering ears. “None but those who cannot feel love can resist me. Not even Celestia or Luna can resist me and they too would fall before me. Should I desire it, I could make this land mine, and every pony from shore to shore, north to south, all would kneel before me and know despair… is this what you would have me do, Gosling?”
Unable to respond, Gosling curled up into a fetal ball and wished for the end, his end. Knowing that he was unworthy was too much to bear. He found himself longing for death, the sweet release from this tortured existence. This feeling of love was unbearable.
And then, it ended. Gosling sucked in a much needed deep breath and saw stars in his vision. He gulped in more air, he had been trying to hold his breath for far too long, and he felt stinging tears begin to roll down his cheeks.
“One time, a long time ago, I was a foalsitter for a precocious little filly that wore on my nerves, asked far too many questions, and refused to go to bed at a reasonable hour.” Cadance’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I made a terrible mistake… I made her love me so she would obey me.” Cadance closed her eyes and shook her head. “Twilight responded in much the same way you have. I panicked and I rushed Twilight to Princess Celestia, not knowing what to do or how to fix it.”
Shuddering, Gosling began weeping as his emotions continued to seethe.
“Princess Celestia was furious with me and I got a much needed lesson in why I can’t just get my way using my magic. She was furious with me, but she still loved me, even though I had done a terrible wrong. Auntie could have done anything she wanted to punish me, she was well within her rights, but the only punishment I had was acting as Twilight’s nurse.” Cadance opened her eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Gosling, it was the single most important lesson that I’ve ever had in rule… you cannot force those around you to love you. You must win their affection, their love, and their reverence.”
A soft warmth wrapped around Gosling and he felt himself lifted from the floor.
“I am sorry for this lesson,” Cadance said as she carried Gosling down the hall towards Celestia’s quarters. “Twilight forgave me, but I still feel guilty about it. It was a painful lesson, Gosling, just as this has been a painful lesson.” Cadance fell silent as she strode down the hall with Gosling levitated before her.
When she reached the door to Celestia’s quarters, she paused, then said, “You will make a fine prince, Gosling. Do not be discouraged. I am sorry to have been your teacher for this dreadful lesson…”
Gosling awoke in a different bed than he remembered falling asleep in. Dazed and disoriented, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. There was somepony in the bed with him. That somepony happened to be Luna. Gosling didn’t move. The room was dark, so very dark, and the only light came from Luna’s mane and tail, which billowed in and out of the blankets, unconcerned about physical barriers.
Luna was bandaged in a number of places. Her neck was bound tight with bandages, as was her leg, her face and one eye was wrapped in white gauze. He had a hazy recollection that Luna had gone to Manehattan. What had happened? When he moved, Luna whimpered, and Gosling realised that she was dreaming about something, or perhaps she was in pain from her injuries.
It was far too difficult to remain awake. Luna was warm and her heavy body was both pleasant and reassuring. Gosling felt safe and secure next to her and his mind was untroubled. His body cried for more sleep. His ears perked as he heard Luna moan in her sleep. He repositioned his body and pressed up against her side. Much to his relief, Luna quieted and went still.
Wiggling about, he pulled the heavy blankets over his head and drifted back into slumber.
When Gosling opened his eyes again, it was a struggle. He was groggy and his fuzzy brain told him that he had slept too long. How long? He didn’t know. The bed was empty. He poked his head out from beneath the blankets, blinked, yawned, and looked around. His surroundings were unfamiliar. The room he was in was lit by moonlight that came streaming in through open double doors. The room was bare, stark, it was the very definition of austere. The walls had no decorations, just bare stone, there was a plain looking bookshelf, and not much else.
The room was also freezing cold as there was no fire in the grate.
“If you use my privy and leave behind a mess, there will be harsh words spoken between us.”
Craning his head around, Gosling found himself looking at Luna. He could see her breath curling out of her nostrils in the frigid air. She was covered in bandages and Gosling saw that her muzzle was swollen. She had been struck, hurt, and seeing her like this, it filled him with a fiery anger that was new to him. He didn’t dare say anything though, as Luna was no damsel in distress. Being fawned or worried over would most likely just make her furious.
“How long was I out?” Gosling asked in a raspy voice that told him he was out for longer than he realised.
“After my return, we slept the entirety of the day and through most of the night. It will be dawn soon.” Luna turned and faced the open doors so she could look at her moon. “I don’t know who put you in bed with me.”
“What happened to you?” Gosling needed to go, but it was too cold to get out of bed. He huddled beneath the blankets and watched as his own breath curled out of his nostrils.
“Some foolish enemy decided to drop a building on me,” Luna replied.
Ouch. Gosling stared at Luna with wide-eyed astonishment.
“When I had arrived in Manehattan, I had foolishly believed that the battle was over.” Luna let out a disgusted snort. “I was wrong. That battle was a ruse done with the hopes of luring me there. Once engaged, I was obligated to defend my subjects.”
“After somepony dropped a building on you.” Gosling pulled the blanket around his neck and tried not to shiver.
“Not a pony.” Luna shook her head, then turned about. She closed the doors behind her then shuffled over to the fireplace. She was stiff and had difficulty walking. “For whatever reason, the Queen of the Bumbles was in Manehattan, taking advantage of the chaos. She had changelings working for her.”
“That sounds troubling.”
“Gosling, you have no idea,” Luna replied as she lit a fire. “From what my Wardens and agents have gathered, she was supplying honey to the local bakeries. Said honey was quite an evil concoction that made the mind susceptible to suggestion and control. I do not yet know all of the details, but more and more of it keeps coming in, one little piece of the puzzle at a time.”
“And we know changelings can influence the minds of others.” Gosling watched as the flames blazed to life and he hoped to feel the fire’s warmth before he froze to death.
“All of this seems to be a well made plan.” Luna stood near the fire and coaxed it into a roaring inferno. “This was planned and then well executed.”
“And Mister Mariner is responsible—”
“We don’t know that,” Luna said, interrupting. “We do not know if he is responsible or if something is taking advantage of the chaos he has sown. That said, I am inclined to believe that he has conspired with our many enemies.”
“But we don’t know for certain.” Gosling’s ears twitched with each pop and crackle from the fire. “I dunno, Luna… now that I think about it, Mister Mariner doesn’t strike me as the type who would work with our enemies, whomever they are.”
“Why do you say that?” Luna asked.
“Bad for business,” Gosling replied.
“A fair point.” Luna’s lone uncovered eyebrow arched. “But this is bad for business too, this collapse.”
“Yeah, but maybe he felt backed into a corner. He might have planned for this, but only as a last resort. The truth is, we don’t know his motivations. Something or someone might have watched him, shaping events around him with the hopes of using him as an unwitting stooge when a moment of opportunity came along.”
“Gosling, I am delighted.” Luna faced Gosling with a piercing stare. “You have a treacherous mind.”
Blushing, Gosling couldn’t help but feel just a little pleased with himself.
“Alas, we know very little. Our enemies seem to be working together in a coordinated way, which worries me. Under most circumstances, they are too busy squabbling amongst each other to be much of a threat, but as of late, we’ve been seeing troubling signs of cooperation.”
“Who could get them all working together though?” Gosling asked.
“Why, Gosling, the answer to that is quite simple,” Luna replied, “Only Grogar has the sort of power to keep them all cowed and subdued…”
Gosling tried to strut as he made his way into the dining room, but his body was too heavy and clunky. He had slept for too long, which was just as bad, if not worse, than going without sleep. The best he could muster was a sexy shuffle, or at least what he thought was a sexy shuffle, but what he was really doing was looking like a drunken colt who needed to pee.
Looking around, he saw his family gathered for breakfast. Yes, his family. The only pony missing was his mother. He wondered if his mother would make the return trip home with Cadance and Shining Armor, and the thought crossed his mind that he wanted to see her. He would have to do that at some point today, if he could get the chance.
The long sleep had done him a little good though. His ears felt fine, at least at the moment, and the only pain in his stomach was that of hunger. Seeing Celestia caused him to feel a little flustered, which caused the feathers on his wings to fluff out. His vanity suggested that they needed preening.
“Hey,” Gosling said as he strode through the room. “Funny story… I was just in the princess’ room and these words were said, ‘Hey, think you could rub this until the swelling goes away?’” Beside Gosling, Luna stopped in place and rolled her one visible eye as the ponies gathered around the table began to snigger, snort, and chortle. “Only problem is, it was Luna that said it.”
Still rolling her eye, Luna shook her head and went to be seated as Gosling stood near the table, a broad, coltish grin upon his face as he looked at Celestia. It was obvious to any observer that he was in love, a mad, crazy sort of love, reckless love, the sort of love that caused wars, uprisings, and severed ears delivered with a side of bad poetry.
It was Cadance’s favourite flavour of love.
“You…” Gosling stared at Celestia. “I have something to say to you.” His voice was cultured, refined, but just a bit groggy still. His ears pitched forwards, angling out over his eyes, and the flats of his ears pivoted forwards. He was unaware that doing this elevated Celestia’s heart rate. “I have something very important to say to you.”
“Perhaps you’d like to say it sitting down,” Celestia said as her eyes darted to the empty seat beside her.
“Nope.” Gosling’s wings flapped against his sides a few times as his tail flicked about.
“Fine then, say what’s on your mind,” Celestia said to Gosling in a low voice.
As he stood there, his mouth went dry and he licked his lips. He glanced over at Seville, he was sitting beside little Flurry, who appeared to be sleeping in her high chair with a half filled bowl in front of her. He looked at Cadance for a second, as if hoping for some silent support, and then he looked into Celestia’s eyes.
Those eyes.
It was dangerous looking into those eyes and he got distracted for just a second. After recovering, he cleared his throat and said, “Look, I know that you’re broke and you ain’t got no money”—How Gosling said this with a straight face, nopony knew—“but that’s okay and I’m willing to overlook that. I understand living through hard times. I still love you and want to be with you. There is only one thing I want from you—”
“And that is?” Celestia asked in a voice of eager anticipation as a smile lurked around her muzzle.
“Well,” Gosling replied, his accent shifting, “See, I was thinkin’ ‘bout turning you into a housewife, but yous gonna be a sexy housewife. No curlers in your mane, I don’t think those would work for yous anyway, and I don’t want no ratty housecoats.” He blinked, then added, “And no smoking. That’s bad for the foals and it makes yous face all saggy and wrinkly and I can’t have that.”
Blueblood’s cheeks bulged as he tried to swallow his laughter and he let out a half-strangled snort. Raven whacked him a good one to keep him from choking. Shining Armor bit down upon his lip and Cadance, sitting between him and Flurry Heart, had a serene smile of love upon her face.
“I’m getting the brandy,” Luna grumbled as she got up from the table.
Celestia said nothing as she began snickering and her eyes darted over to her sister, who was off to find a liquor cabinet. The princess’ ears perked and her bright, merry eyes returned to Gosling, who was at his best when he was at his worst. The prancy pegasus shifted on his hooves.
“I love you. I think I understand what is expected of me. At least, I have a better idea of it now. I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past few weeks. I’ve seen some stuff. I have a better idea of what it is I want to do with my life. And more than anything, I want to spend my life with you.” Gosling bowed his head and all of his pride fell away. He stood there, somehow looking humble, and his ears drooped down to the sides of his face.
“I will do my best as a prince. I will serve the ponies of Equestria in whatever capacity that I am capable of.” Gosling drew in a deep breath and then continued, “But that is my secondary duty… my first duty is to you… I want to see you happy. I want to make you happy.”
Celestia’s eyelids appeared heavy as she gave Gosling an affectionate stare. “What am I going to do with you, Gosling?”
“Well, I could think of a few things to do after we are married—”
“Not in front of Flurry!” Shining Armor said in a firm voice.
Reaching out a wing, Cadance shushed her husband. “Gosling, it makes me happy to hear you say this. While you were sleeping, there was a lot of discussion… Seville and I had a very long talk.”
“About what?” Gosling asked.
“About what you said,” Cadance replied, “reminding ponies that they love their princesses. Making them feel love for their princesses.” She looked around the table, eyeing the ponies around her, and then returned her attention to Gosling. “For too many, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are the unreachable alicorn princesses that live at the top of the Canterhorn mountain. I think that most ponies have forgotten that the sisters are also ponies.”
There was a nod from Celestia as Gosling’s eyebrow arched.
“We’re going to show the ponies of Equestria that Celestia and Luna are ponies just like them. We’re going to invite the ponies of Equestria to be guests in Canterlot castle—”
“What?” Gosling asked.
“—and we’re going to give them a glimpse into your personal lives.” Cadance rose from her seat and took a step closer to Gosling. “Seville is going to follow you around. He’s going to take pictures. He’s going to capture you on film, moments when you are at your best and at your worst. We’re going to put your lives on film, starting from your engagement party and your wedding.”
“Cadance… I…”
“I’m also investing in some movie cameras. We’re going to document Celestia’s pregnancy and birth and we’re going to show the ponies of Equestria that she’s just like them… a pony.” Cadance, now near Gosling, reached out and touched him with her wing. “We’re going to show them those special moments that the two of you have, those loving moments. What I am hoping for is that if the ponies of Equestria see your lives in detail, they will feel as though they are a part of them… perhaps even feel as though they are part of the family. And I hope this will change the dynamic.”
“That’s actually a pretty good idea,” Gosling said. “They should see how Celestia frets over them and how much she loves them.”
“Yes.” Cadance nodded. “I think you get it.”
A sly look appeared upon Gosling’s face. “Say… Cadance… if we’re gonna show Celestia’s pregnancy, how about we film the conception?”
“That’s a good idea,” Cadance replied without a moment of hesitation. “Of course, for something like that, I should be there in pony, offering advice and tips. I think you might need a little coaching, Gosling, seeing as how you haven’t had much practice. We wouldn’t want anypony thinking that their prince is a two-pump-chump. The prince would be expected to be a stud in the eyes of his subjects.”
“Uh…” Gosling said as his cheeks blazed with embarrassment, “on second thought, some things should remain private.” He heard Celestia giggling and he could not meet her eyes, nor could he look at Cadance either. His wings fidgeted against his sides and he felt far too warm.
“Auntie has already graciously agreed to all of this. I still need to talk to Luna… she’s a bit more private.” Cadance looked around, but of Luna, there was no sign. She returned her attention to Gosling. “You had the right idea Gosling, but wanted to go about it the wrong way. I think that Celestia and Luna are far too removed from most of their subjects. In the Crystal Empire, I can interact with most of my subjects, as it is a relatively small place. I can walk the streets and my little ponies see me out and about on my daily activities. They know that Shining Armor and I are flesh and blood that walks among them, not just two all-powerful figureheads that live on top of a mountain, out of reach.”
Gosling eyed Celestia. “You really want to do this?”
For a brief second, Celestia stuck out her tongue at Gosling, then replied, “Sure, I’d love to film the conception.”
“Yous a dirty girl.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed and his tail flicked from side to side.
“Yes, I am willing to do this,” Celestia said to Gosling. “I think it is a good idea. Cadance has a point… I can remember when Equestria was small enough that I could walk among my subjects and be a part of their lives. Now, ponies know my name, but they don’t know me. I wish to reconnect to my ponies, Gosling… and I want them to be a part of our lives… a part of our family.”
“So… we take pictures and we make movies and then what?” Gosling asked.
“We release some photos to the newspapers and we distribute the films as documentaries in the theatre,” Cadance replied. “However, for the bulk of the photos, I think we should distribute them in albums that ponies can buy and the funds collected can go to charity, like with the ever-so-popular princess colas.”
“That’s a cause that I can get behind.” Gosling, now serious looking, stood in place, his wings still fidgeting, and his brow was furrowed from concentration. “We have to treat this in the right way… we have to invite them into our home… and this is going to be a major undertaking.”
“Yes it will.” Celestia leaned over in her chair.
“You won my aunt over with charm.” Cadance turned to look at Celestia, then turned back to face Gosling. “That same charm could be used to win over the ponies of Equestria. I know it sounds corny, but ponies really do love storybook romance, trust me, I know, and we can give them that. You can give them that. You can be the storybook prince, come to sweep the princess off of her hooves.”
“And we’ll get the ever after on film,” Gosling replied, cottoning on. “Ponies will be a lot more sympathetic if they see Celestia as a stressed out mom covered in spit up and cryin’ into her bowl of oatmeal.”
“Ah, the joys of motherhood,” Celestia said to herself and her words came out as a sigh.
“And we have to make sure that everything is real.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed and his ears pivoted around. “We have to strive for sincerity. This can’t be canned or done for sensationalism. I think it is important for ponies to see the boring parts of our day, like paperwork or the other drudgery we have to endure.”
“Hmm.” Cadance’s head began to bob up and down.
“I have returned with brandy, the delicious breakfast liquor.” Luna paused in the doorway with a half empty bottle of brandy held in her telekinesis. “Did I miss something?”
“Yeah, Luna, we was all just talking about filming Celestia and me making foals so all of Equestria could watch,” Gosling replied. “Cadance offered to be my coach so I’m not a two-pump-chump.”
Blinking, Luna stared at Gosling for a moment with no expression on her swollen, misshapen, battered face. She then lifted the bottle of brandy to her lips, tipped it back, and drained it all down. She smacked her puffy lips, winced in pain, then shuddered from the brandy burn.
“‘Tis a pity, there is not enough liquor in the world,” Luna said in a soft voice as she turned to leave. “I am going to go and… what is the modern colloquialism? Get hammered?” Shaking her head, muttering, Luna limped away and took her empty bottle of brandy with her as she went off to once again raid the liquor cabinet.
Gosling took a single step to follow Luna, then stopped. In a loud, clear voice he cried, “Luna, wait… we need to talk about what you and I are going to do on film together! As the Princess of the Night, do you want top or bottom billing? You can be on top if you want to!”
With a wide grin upon her face, Celestia turned to look over at Cadance, who stood beside her. Both of them stood on a high balcony overlooking the almost empty gallery below. Both were sneaky and well hidden, listening in as Gosling serenaded Luna. Or, perhaps serenading was too kind a word, as Cadance's face and ears kept twitching in physical pain.
“I’m gonna love you… and give you such a snuggle—”
“Gosling, go away,” Luna said, her speech slurred. “Cease your caterwauling at once, this instant!”
“I’m gonna make you feel loved and I can’t think of a word that rhymes with snuggle!”
Cadance, looking up at Celestia, shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“And baby… when my affections leave you hot and flustered—”
“Gosling, begone!” Luna demanded.
“I’m gonna fill ya up with my hot horse custard! HAAAAAAAWT HORSE CUSTARD!”
In desperation, Luna cast a spell and Gosling vanished from sight. Up on the balcony, Celestia chortled while Cadance let out an immature giggle and fought to keep her composure. The older white alicorn looked down at the younger pink alicorn, winked, and gave her a nudge with her wing.
And then, the pair of them were off. It was going to be a long and busy day.
Standing on the parapets, Gosling watched as an endless stream of carrier pigeons returned to Canterlot Castle. He gave himself a shake, flicked his tail, and tried not to think of Luna’s stinging rejection. It was time to be serious and there was a lot of work to do. He looked up at Celestia, who was looking especially radiant for some reason. Cadance was right. There was something different about her.
“So, uh, what is the plan? How are we going to put Equestria back in order?” A strong gust of wind whipped Gosling’s mane around as he waited for an answer from Celestia. “How are we going to fix things?” He heard Celestia take a deep breath and he suspected he would get more than an answer, but also a lesson as well.
“Blueblood wanted to seize everything so that all of the incoming wrath would be directed at him. He then planned to step down when I chastised him and abated the public ire.” Celestia watched as pigeons landed and the various ponies below tended to them. “I refused to allow that to happen. No tricks, no slippery subversion, it is time we face this.”
“I’m still having trouble understanding everything that Shining Armor told me,” Gosling confessed in a low voice. “A lot of it was over my head.”
“Shining Armor has some strong opinions on the issue, but they are opinions.”
“Uh, forgive me for being blunt, but that’s a load of horseapples. I’d say that a lot of what he said was fact.” As Gosling stood watching the alicorn beside him, a sour expression crossed over Celestia’s face. “Yeah, we’re at that stage of our relationship. I’ve stopped being afraid of disagreeing with you.”
“I would prefer it to be this way,” Celestia replied as she shuffled on her hooves. “Gosling, a long time ago, I created a document called ‘The Canterlot Concordance.’ It was a writ of guarantee that I would not seize land, property, or valuables from private owners, as it was my right to do as the appointed monarch. I forfeited my right to do so so that I could give assurance to the merchants and the guilds that their possessions were safe and would remain as their property.”
“Oh…” Gosling’s eyebrows raised. “Oh… so there is more to this then.”
“Private property and wealth were to remain in the possession of the owner. In very short and simple terms, it made private wealth possible, the guarantee that I would not seize it and take it as mine own.”
“You sound like Luna when you say ‘mine own,’ did you know that?” Gosling extended his wings and let the breeze hit him. He was grateful for the cool air against his ribs and as he stood there, he watched as Celestia did the same. Her wingspan was so much larger than his, and it left him a little jealous. He wished that he was that well endowed. He would show it off every chance he got.
Ears drooping, Celestia continued. “Now, I am violating the concordance. Doing so will cause a lot of panic among the wealthy.” She paused, looked Gosling in the eye, and continued, “There will be much fear and anger. The industrialists, the real estate tycoons, the railroad barons, the steel magnates, the bankers, there will be a lot of issues that will need to be sorted out among the movers and shakers of our economy. There might even be legal action, or so I’ve been warned, and there are those who may try to ensure that the concordance is enforced.”
“But when that concordance was signed, there was no way of knowing that something like this would happen. The laws have to change with the times. No legal document, no matter how well written, stays valid forever. I learned that in secondary school.” Gosling cleared his throat. “I want to go back to school… as we’ve discussed. I’ve a lot to learn if I’m going to be the sort of pony that is going to make a difference.”
“I have to break a promise,” Celestia said in a voice that was heavy and gritty with regret. “A most dangerous thing to do as a ruler. Always be careful with your promises, Gosling, as sometimes, life’s cruel circumstances will force you to break them. A single careless word can be your undoing. Trust is hard fought and harder won—but it is easily broken. It is a fragile thing and the love of the public is a fickle, finicky thing.”
“Well, just be honest with the public then. Make a statement. Just come right out and say that when this concordance was signed, there was no way of knowing that somepony would try to bring down the entire system. Tell them that changes are required and it is time for a new concordance, or a new charter, or whatever you might wish to call it in more modern terms.” Gosling sidestepped and moved a little closer to the alicorn beside him. “Admit that there was a major fault in the system as it was and then tell everypony how bad you feel about breaking your promise and that you don’t want to do it.”
“And do you really think it will be that simple” Celestia asked.
“Yes,” Gosling replied without a moment’s hesitation. “Show them you have feelings. Tell them that this hurts you and makes you want to freak out about losing their trust in you. Admit to them that the very idea of violating their trust makes you have panic attacks. You know, if you want the public to see you as a pony, perhaps you should act like a pony… not just some talking figurehead that gives a message from up on high.”
“Hmm…” Celestia’s lips pressed together in a thin, pinched line. “For so long, showing any sort of weakness was considered downright taboo.”
“Times are different.” Gosling blinked and remained focused on looking at Celestia’s face. “Being a hard, unyielding statue that gives decrees to the masses has brought you to this point. You need to soften up a bit. Show the public at large that you have feelings. Isn’t that what we’ll be doing when we make our lives a bit more public?”
“Yes, I suppose you are right.” Celestia’s ears stood tall and her tight lips relaxed a little. “Perhaps it would be best to start now. Gosling, I must confess, you have a knack for confidence and relating to the common pony. I fear that I’ve grown out of touch, which shook my confidence up quite a bit. It is one of the many reasons why I thought about abdicating.”
“But those thoughts are gone, right?” Gosling asked.
“Damn right. There is a new battle to fight… a new enemy. I can see that now. My ponies need me.” She paused, then looked Gosling in the eye. “They need us. This will be the era of reformation. Twilight and Cadance have done so much… it is part of the reason why I felt so out of touch and out of place. They do so much and they do it so effortlessly… for a time, it felt as though they were better suited for rule than I was. It caused me to doubt myself… it caused me to retreat and shy away… but no longer.”
“Have you told Cadance and Twilight that?” Gosling asked as he stared into Celestia’s eyes. It was a little unnerving to have to look up at her, but it was something he was going to have to get comfortable with.
“Cadance yes, Twilight no.” Celestia sucked in a deep breath, held it for but a moment, then let it all out in a slow huff. “Twilight still worships me. I don’t know what telling her might do to her. It’s complicated, Gosling, it’s one of those things I’ve talked about in therapy.”
“Huh, I see.” Gosling shuffled on his hooves as he folded his wings against his sides, his body now cooled off and comfortable.
“Gosling, I must go. I need to speak with Cadance. I hope you’ll understand.”
“Go on then, do what you need to do,” Gosling replied.
Much to his surprise, Celestia didn’t walk away, but she vanished. He figured that it had to be something important for her to leave so suddenly. Perhaps talking to her had given her an idea, or maybe she needed to get something off of her barrel. Now alone, Gosling began to think about what he might be able to do to help out. There was so much to do that it was all overwhelming.
“Psst, hey you.”
Cautious, Gosling looked around, worried about the voice that came out of nowhere. His eyes narrowed and he dropped into more of a combat posture as his ears perked up. He felt the hairs along his back standing up and the muscles in his dock tightened.
“Over here…”
Gosling’s eyes focused upon an alcove where a guard might duck into while it was raining. It was shadowy and something shimmered in the dark space where the sun didn’t shine. His wings flared out from his sides and he pawed the stones below him with his hoof.
“Oh stop being such a goof!” the voice snapped.
The shimmer coalesced into a pony with a dusky lavender hue. Gosling stared, then dropped his guard when he realised who it was. Right away, he bowed his head and resumed a friendly, submissive posture.
“Princess Twilight—”
“Oh, stuff it!” Twilight snapped from within the shadows where she stood. “Come here and do as I say.”
Glancing around to see if anypony else was looking, Gosling hurried over to where Twilight waited. He stepped into the alcove with her and much to his secret relief, he was able to look down into a princess’ eyes. It satisfied him more than he would ever admit.
“What’s with the sneaky subterfuge?” Gosling asked Twilight as she looked up at him. “Hey… were you eavesdropping on everything that Celestia and I were just talking about?” His ears pinned back against his head as he stood face to face with Twilight, who was adjusting her cloak around her. He suspected that the cloak was how she had been invisible.
“Yes, I listened to every word said… but I didn’t mean to. I wanted to talk to you without Celestia knowing about it—”
“And why would that be?” Gosling asked, interrupting Twilight and feeling a bit miffed.
“Look… you want to shake things up.” Twilight drew herself up to her full height and took on a commanding posture. “I’ve been following you around all morning. I’ve got things to do, I’ve got a school to open and contingencies to put into place, and I have to make certain that Ponyville remains untroubled by the current mess.” Twilight shook her head. “This mess needed to happen. It is time for reform. Celestia won’t listen to me, she thinks my ideas are a bit too radical. But she’ll listen to you.”
“Yeah, well, be real careful about what you are about to say, because I’m not going to cross her. I want to keep the trust of my future wife.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed and he wondered what Twilight was up to. He didn’t like this whole sneaky affair. “If I don’t like what you have to say, I’m telling her about this.”
“Good. She needs somepony loyal to her.” Twilight glanced about, checking to see if they might be seen, then returned her attention to Gosling. She pulled a thick hardbound book out from beneath her cloak and held it in her magic. “I want to give you this. This book is very special… it comes from beyond the mirror. The book is a history of the socio-economic reform and the political upheaval of a powerful nation. They had troubles quite similar to ours. This book outlines the problems, the issues, the various solutions, it tells everything that happened… and if Celestia knew I had this book, she might banish me or worse. I’m not supposed to bring artifacts over from the other side.”
Gosling stared at the book for a moment, then looked into Twilight’s eyes.
“This can help us, Gosling. This nation beyond the mirror advanced into the modern era. They had civil rights issues, problems with minorities, economic collapse, something called a depression, recessions, Gosling, this book shows the way forwards. It might not have all of the answers, but it shows the right way to go.”
“And you want me to take the book?” Gosling asked.
“Yes,” Twilight replied, “And you must never tell Celestia that you have it. She would be furious with me and probably you.”
“I dunno about this—”
“Look, Gosling, we can go stumbling forwards and make a lot of mistakes as we learn through trial and error, or we can learn the lessons of those who went through and sorted out these issues already. How many ponies do you want to have suffer while we struggle through trial and error?” Twilight looked up at Gosling with a stern, hard expression upon her face. “A leader does what is best for their subjects. It goes beyond simple black and white morality, try to see the bigger picture, Gosling.”
“I’m still not convinced,” Gosling said in a low whisper.
“Celestia is still stuck in the past about a few issues and she insists that using knowledge from beyond the mirror is wrong. But she’s wrong. They’ve dealt with these issues… there are a lot of good ideas in here, Gosling. We don’t have to go through all the mistakes while we sort things out. We can reduce the suffering now by applying answers already learned.”
“I… I—”
“You will be seen as the great reformer,” Twilight said in a low voice. “You will be seen as a wise and great prince. You will have the answers. You’ll know what to do. You will change the lives of millions and make their lives better.”
“And all I got to do is take the book,” Gosling said in a low voice.
“You won’t have to hide it forever… when Celestia sees that the reforms are doing good, that there is positive improvement and things are better, we can both come clean and then convince her that having this knowledge was a good thing. And I promise I’ll tell her that this was all my idea.”
Gosling’s eyes fell upon the book. All of the answers, all of the solutions, it was all there for the taking. The book was big, it was one of the largest books he had seen, and it had to be a good several inches thick. Anything that big would have to be exhaustive. So many lives could be changed. So many could be spared from needless suffering from the social upheaval that was sure to come. He felt his resolve weakening.
“The way forward lies in knowledge,” Twilight said in a reassuring whisper.
Nodding, Gosling replied, “I agree.”
“Good. Take this book. I’ve cast many spells on it. Celestia shouldn’t notice it, but if she does, it will look like a history of the eastward expansion. Keep this book safe—”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Gosling took the book with his wing and then held it pressed against his side, hidden and out of sight. “You and I gotta come clean about this later though, you hear me? I feel bad about this. This is wrong.”
“The results are all that matters,” Twilight said as she pulled her hood over her head and vanished. Now invisible, she added, “I must be going… Good luck, Prince Gosling. I look forward to working with you!”
Princess Celestia could not find Gosling anywhere. She had been looking for him for a while, needing to see him, to speak to him, not for any particular reason, but just to look at him and hear his voice. After much searching, Raven had told her of his location, which puzzled Celestia just a teensy, tiny bit, but she had not inquired as to why he was where he was.
Everything was still in crisis mode, but it was being dealt with. Power was being restored. Eviction notices were now officially overturned. Factories were ordered to remain open or face dire consequences. The aftermath was being managed one little foal step at a time, just the way that she prefered it.
She rounded the corner and headed towards the school atrium, not knowing why Raven had sent Gosling over to the school. It was, at the very least, a very peculiar thing to do. There was so much to be done and Gosling could be so helpful. Then again, Gosling had roused some very competent help, so there was a lot less that needed to be done.
As she passed through the ornate double doors that opened into the school wing and the atrium, she heard the sound of Gosling’s voice. She paused, ducked into the alcove near the door, perked her ears, and listened.
“—and nopony said anything about the booger hanging out of the princess’ nose, because they were all a bunch of snivelling suckups. They didn’t wanna embarrass the princess, so they didn’t say anything at all, and the poor princess, who was surrounded by sycophants, had a booger dangling out of her nose all day long.”
Letting out a demure sigh, Celestia heard the sound of giggling.
“This is why it doesn’t pay to be a stooge. If you’s gonna serve the princesses, you gotta be honest, even if it is embarrassing. This is how Princess Prettyfeathers had a bad day in court.”
Moving with utter silence, Princess Celestia crept up behind Gosling…
Looking at his audience, Gosling grinned. They were all staring at him with wide, adoring eyes. Raven was right, this was a good way to relieve stress. He was going to have to do this more often. When he got worked up, he would come over here to the school and blow off a little steam by spending time with the students.
The students were looking at him with perhaps a little too much adoration and awe. Gosling’s internal pegasus danger sense began to tingle and he raised one well groomed eyebrow as he looked at the students.
“She’s behind me, ain’t she?” he asked. He saw dozens of little heads bob up and down, but nopony made so much as a single peep. “She’s quiet, for being so big, ain’t she?”
“Gosling, heart’s dearest, I would be forever in your debt if you didn’t say ‘sniveling suckup’ or ‘sycophants’ around my students,” Celestia said in a gentle voice.
“And this class, is soft language.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the foals, who were all huddled together and listening with twitching little ears. “See, she’s prolly a little peeved with me, but, because all of yous is around, she can’t say what she’s really feeling, because that would look bad. So she’s using soft language. This is a vital skill for diplomacy and politics.”
“Gosling…”
“You see class, instead of being angry, or even sounding angry, you use soft language. Yous talk real soft like so that yous don’t start a panic or spook a skittish pony, ‘cause let’s face it, there’s a lot of skittish ponies around. So wes uses soft language to communicate in delicate situations. But soft language isn't enough, in my opinion.”
“Gosling, just what do you think you are doing?” Celestia asked.
“What else ya gotta do?” a filly asked.
“What else must you do,” Celestia said, making a much needed correction.
“Yous gotta be pretty,” Gosling replied as he tossed his head back to flip his mane out of his face. “This means brushing your teeth, combing your mane and your tail, and brushing every inch of your pelt until it gleams. It means smiling real big and being irresistible.”
Rolling her eyes, Celestia shook her head. “Okay, listen up, the pretty little peacock pegasus might have a point.”
“But I hate brushing myself,” a colt whined.
“Then yous gonna end up as one of those dirty types and maybe politics isn’t for yous.” Gosling’s brows furrowed and he leaned forwards. “Politics is all about winning others over. It’s about using soft language when you can, and talking hard when its needed. And there are a bunch of shallow, vain ponies in politics—”
Hearing these words, Celestia snorted and then choked back a laugh before it ruined her composure. The irony of Gosling saying these words was delicious and she would be savouring this moment for the rest of the day.
“—and these jerks will dismiss you and everything you have to say if yous has so much as a single hair out of place. So, even if what yous has to say is important, nopony will listen to you. Which means you can’t give ‘em no excuses to ignore you. Which means being presentable… and pretty. It means being confident, ‘cause when you’s confident, other ponies just assume that you know what you’s doing and they’s willing to listen to yous.”
Celestia’s choked back laughter died in her throat.
“And how you speak is also very important.” Gosling’s thick Broncs accent died away and his smooth, cultured voice replaced it. “You must sound like you know what you are doing as well. Sometimes, it isn’t enough to just to be confident and pretty. You can be the smartest little pony in all of Equestria, and you might even have all of the answers to all of the problems, but if you can’t present your ideas in a manner that others are willing to listen and tolerate, you are not going to get anywhere. Having the answers isn’t enough. It’s all about being the total package.”
Standing behind Gosling, Celestia lapsed into silence, not knowing what to say.
“I had to start being very political,” Gosling said to the gathered students. “My entire life is under a magnifying glass. I had to start thinking about how others see me. I have to think about how I talk, how I walk, and I no longer have the luxury to be a wiseguy. I’ve had to start thinking about soft language and saying things in such a way that I do not offend others, even ponies I don’t like, because I know that at some point, I am going to have to work with them. I’ve had to learn to put personal satisfaction aside and how to keep my big yap shut. I can’t just cut loose with those playground insults that are so fun to say.”
“That sounds hard,” a little yellow unicorn filly said.
“It is,” Gosling replied, “it really is… which is why you need to start practicing now, while you are in school. You can afford to make mistakes here. Experiment. See what works for you. See what works best. If you can master this stuff now, by the time you get out of school, you’ll be ahead in the game.” He drew in a deep breath and watched as the foals all began looking at one another. “You’ll be ready to start making a difference in the world… and trust me, the world needs changing.”
“You won us over with a funny booger story and then you got us to think about adult stuff.” The colt who had spoken adjusted his glasses and then looked up at both Gosling and Celestia. After getting his glasses just so, he began to fiddle with his polkadotted bow tie.
“It’s called knowing your audience,” Gosling replied. “That’s a tough thing to master.”
“All of you go and play.” Celestia cleared her throat and flapped her wings a few times to encourage the herd of little unicorn foals to get moving. “Go on, Gosling’s had your ears for long enough, go and have fun.”
Gosling, grinning, waited as the crowd dispersed, feeling rather proud and pleased with himself. He felt calmer, less tense, and less worked up. He found that he rather liked doing this, and planned to thank Raven for her suggestion.
“Gosling… I need a moment of your time…”
She kissed him with an aggressive intensity that he was certain was going to bruise his lips. There wasn’t much that Gosling could do, so he just tried to survive the onslaught. He felt the sharp, flat edges of his teeth pressing into his lips with an almost eye watering pressure. White spots danced on the insides of Gosling’s eyelids and his lungs ached with a need for air.
His legs were swept out from beneath him and Gosling felt his body tumble down into the grass. Celestia had hauled him outside in the garden, demanding a moment of his time. And right now, she was getting her moment and a whole lot more.
When he went down, she went down with him, and he felt himself being crushed under her bulk. She was heavy, so heavy; alicorns might look like graceful creatures, but they weighed a ton. Gosling found himself flat on his back with Celestia on top of him, crushing him into the grass, savaging him with a kiss that threatened to set him on fire.
He felt her forelegs against his neck, the soft edge of her fetlock touched his cheek, and her fluttering wings created a much needed cooling downdraft. It felt like drowning, like being submerged in water for far too long, and not being able to breathe. Just when he was certain that he was going to pass out, Celestia pulled away her muzzle with a saturated slurp.
Wrecked, Gosling lay in the grass with the much larger alicorn straddling him, panting for air, which was difficult because she was sitting on his stomach. He could feel her now feverish skin brushing up against his own, he could feel the twitching on the inside of her thighs. She was every bit as shaky as a filly his own age that was hot to trot. Alarmed, Gosling tried not to think about where Celestia was sitting, or what she was rubbing up against his navel, but it was too late. Think about it he did. And parts of him began to react.
“I feel like I’m a hundred again,” Celestia said.
“What happened when you were a hundred?” Gosling asked.
“I hit puberty!” Celestia let out a reckless, boisterous laugh. She squeezed her hind legs together and gripped Gosling between thighs that could cold-roll steel. “I haven’t felt like this in ages! Equestria is falling down all around me, our enemies are almost at the gate, but instead of feeling terrified and panicked, I feel invigorated and revitalised!”
Crushed into the grass, Gosling took notice that Celestia was grinding herself against him. He bit down upon his lip and tried to think of unsexy thoughts. He thought about control. Of self restraint. And then, for some reason, he thought of a fire hose soaking Celestia and leaving her drenched, with puddles of water everywhere.
It didn’t help him none. He cursed his teenaged hormones and bit down harder on his lip.
“It’s going to be like the bad old days!” Celestia said in a booming voice that echoed through the garden in a most alarming sort of way. “Our enemies will come rampaging through the gate and I shall SMITE THEM!”
Gosling’s ears ached from the volume of her voice and he heard the sound of glass shattering somewhere.
“Oh, by the stars in the sky, it has been so long since I’ve let go with a good smiting,” Celestia said as her eyes misted over from reminiscing. “Back then, most of the little ponies were my foals… in the most literal sense. I birthed so many of them. I was so connected to them. I was their mother… and when something came to threaten them—”
“You smote them?” Gosling asked, trying to be helpful.
“I SMOTE THEM!” Celestia’s voice was a thundercrack that reverberated through the air.
He felt his ears give a painful twitch and the sound of more glass shattering could be heard. He could feel her belly against his and it burned like a furnace. It was so hot that he worried that delicate places on his own body might actually be burned by the contact.
“I know what went wrong, Gosling, I just figured it out!”
“And that is?”
“I lost my connection to them!”
“I don’t follow.” Gosling shook his head and squirmed as parts of him continued to grow hotter from being in contact with her.
“I stopped having foals, Gosling, and these little ponies that I love and adore, they stopped being my foals. The years rolled by and the connections faded away. They stopped thinking of me as their mother and I stopped thinking of them as my foals. They became my subjects.”
“Celestia, I don’t know what to say.”
“Gosling, we need to be married right away.”
“Okay…”
“And then we need to fix this problem. I need to be connected to them again. I need to be their mother, not just their princess… there’s a big conflict coming, and I need to awaken my maternal instincts if I’m going to keep them safe.”
“Oh, I can help with that,” Gosling said, all too aware that his body wanted to help her right now. Over and over again. Repeatedly. He wanted to help her until he couldn’t help her no more, and he was a quivering, dried out, dehydrated mess that was all shriveled up like a raisin.
“Gosling, I love you and I want you to give me lots of little ponies that I can love.”
“I can do that.”
“I need to go and talk to Cadance. And maybe our therapist!”
“And I need a cold shower right away,” Gosling groaned as his groin ignited with a searing, needy pain. He was in the mood to help out. He was going to be the most helpful little pegasus that was ever born.
Just when he thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Celestia bent her neck, leaned her head down, and kissed him again as she squirmed on top of him. His brain went blank and only vital functions remained as he threw his forelegs around her neck and returned the favour.
It was on top of the gatehouse that Gosling found his mother, who watched as various flights of pegasi and pigeons arrived and departed. As he approached, he saw that her face was troubled, she looked out of sorts, sad perhaps, or disappointed. He gave himself a shake, flapped once, and then, saying nothing in greeting, he walked up and smooched his mother on the cheek.
The sleek white pegasus turned to look at him and Gosling saw one maternal eyebrow arch in concern. Right away, he felt like a foal again, and he stood there, bracing himself for what was sure to be a mommy-moment. He saw his mother inhale and there was a brief instance of panic, a conditioned response if ever there was one, the conditioned response of mother-loving sons everywhere.
“Gosling, you have grass stains… your feathers are mussed”—Sleet shook her head and let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes—“but at least you look happy.” The clean white pegasus took a step backwards, reached up with her wing, and with an oft-practiced flick of her feathers, she knocked some grass out of Gosling’s mane, while still somehow remaining clean and spotless herself.
“How are ya, Ma?”
“I’m good,” she replied, “I’ve been spending time with Skyfire. She’s taking all of this hard. She feels like everything that happened is her fault—”
“Oh for the love of cheese and crackers,” Gosling muttered.
“Are you mad at her?” Sleet asked. “For feeling this way?”
“No.” Gosling gave his wings a flap and sent some grass flying off in the breeze. The flap did nothing to fix the deplorable state of his feathers however. He envied his mother’s ability to remain flawless and white somehow, it was as if even the dust and grime of everyday living was scared to mar her perfect pelt. Some pegasi were a pale shade of pink that looked white, others blue, some a faint shade of yellow, but his mother was stark white that gleamed with blue highlights in the right lighting.
“No, Ma, I ain’t mad. This whole situation though… ugh. I’ve learned a whole lot.”
“Have you, Gosling?” Sleet looked up at her son, her ice blue eyes glittering in the sun. “What have you learned, Gosling?”
“Well,” Gosling replied, wondering where to start. “I’ve learned that Princess Celestia is so afraid of breaking her promise or her word that the very thought of doing so gives her a panic attack.” He stood for a moment, admiring his mother’s beauty as the gusting breeze lifted her mane away from her face. His mother smelled of peppermint at the moment.
“I’ve learned that Princess Luna can have a building dropped on top of her and she’ll be fine.” As he spoke, he saw his mother’s mouth fall open and her eyes went wide with concern. “I’ve also learned that alicorns are really heavy, and I don’t know why. I’m afraid to ask. I’ve learned that both sisters are more aware of things in the world around them than they let on. I’ve learned that just about everything I do is a test of some sort, and I do mean everything. There is a lot of pressure to be a good prince, when the time comes.” Gosling’s ears drooped and he let out a snort. “Prince Consort. It means that I earned my crown by being shaggable and being good breeding material.”
“Gosling, sometimes that’s enough. You’ve studied history. You and I both know that there have been consorts that have done extraordinary things. You’re handsome, and yes, I’d like to think that I passed on the very best sort of genes that genetics has to offer, but you’re also smart, capable, funny, and, well, you’re you. You are the fearless little pegasus that fell in love with his Princess Celestia stuffy and wanted to have chivalrous, noble adventures, battle dragons, and rescue her from the tallest tower—”
“Ma.” Gosling felt himself blushing.
“I talked with Princess Cadance, Gosling, she says that you have endless potential. You’re more than just good breeding stock. Just be patient and give it time, you’ll prove yourself. Everypony will know that you are more than just some pretty pegasus.”
“But I am a pretty pegasus.” Covered in grass stains, Gosling struck a pose. He deflated a bit when he heard a derisive snort from his mother. He knew how she felt about good grooming, and he was in a less than perfect state right now. He gave her a sheepish grin, and he saw a smile spread over her muzzle.
“You are a pretty pegasus… when you are clean.” Sleet’s lip curled back in disgust. “What were you doing rolling in the grass anyway? What did I tell you? If you absolutely must roll in something, do so in a cloud. You’ll come away clean and refreshed.”
“Um…” Gosling thought about what he was doing just a little while ago in the grass. Just a little bit of kissy-face and making out. Nothing else. Nope. Nothing else at all. And the princess certainly hadn’t committed acts of frottage upon him while going on about smiting those who threatened her little ponies. He changed the subject to avoid thinking about it. “So, uh, any word on Skyfire and her future plans?”
A surprised look appeared upon Sleet’s face and she stared up at her son. She blinked a few times, her bright blue eyes curious, and then her expression softened into one of maternal pride. “That’s very grown up of you to ask, Gosling. Caring for one who has wronged you.”
“You raised me right,” Gosling said in a sheepish voice.
“Yeah, I did,” Sleet replied, without a moment’s hesitation. “Skyfire will be doing her training at the Ashlands Camp. She still doesn’t know what she wants to do, but she’s willing to accept a post there. More benefits for having a post there.”
The Ashlands. Gosling lifted his head. That was a rough place. Located further south from the horrifying Froggy Bottom Bogg, the Ashlands was the area around Mount Maud, Equestria’s newest volcano. It was a place of hostile magic and strange ponies, the ash ponies. In the central Ashlands, only certain earth ponies and crystal ponies could survive the magical radiation, and it had changed them, turning them and their offspring into the ash ponies. Strange crystal trees and plants grew there. He had heard stories about giant vegetables grown in the ash, but as far as he knew, they were just stories. He knew of the Ashlands Camp through gossip, the camp itself wasn’t in the hot zone, but existed between the Ashlands and Las Pegasus.
At one point, he had thought about accepting a post there, because the pay was fantastic.
“She’s still so scared, Gosling. Would it kill you to go and have just a little talk with her?” Sleet asked.
“Not until she’s sweated a bit and earned it, Ma,” Gosling replied.
“Gossy—”
“Ma,” Gosling said, interrupting his mother, “this whole experience I’ve gone through… everything I’ve learned… I’ve been left to dangle. I’ve had to sweat things out and figure things out on my own. I’ve had to come across the answers to the things I needed to learn the hard way. Why, I even got a face full of Princess Cadance’s magic and I’ve learned that she’s probably the most powerful out of all the different alicorns.” He shuddered at the memory. “Ma, we’re herd animals. We’re content to follow whoever is next to us or ahead of us in the herd, never questioning, never learning, content to just blindly go along through life. I talked about this in therapy. For us, for equinekind, exceptional individuals are the ones thrown out from their comfort zones and forced to face life without the buffer of the herd around them. It’s called singular learning. It means that we have to actually figure out what is going on and how to adapt to it, and not just mimic the behaviours of the ponies around us in the herd.”
Shocked, Sleet stared up at her son.
“Skyfire has been tossed out of the herd. She has the opportunity to become an exceptional individual. I’m not about to rob her of that. If given the chance, and if she takes that chance, she’ll probably go on to become a magnificent individual. A gifted pony who will probably do great things. But for right now, she’s gotta stumble around a whole lot and be so scared that she sharts herself. I’ll go and pay her a visit, and we’ll talk a bit, but I’m not going to make it easy for her.”
“Gosling… I…”
“Ma, this is why the princesses engineer situations where exceptional ponies get run through the ringer. I figured this out on my own. If good ponies didn’t have the squeeze put on them, we wouldn’t have no pillars of society. We’d have a mushy headed society trapped in herd think, with everypony mimicking everypony else around them and nopony doing anything innovative. It’s why Princess Celestia had to toss her student, Twilight, out of Canterlot and into Ponyville. It’s why I had to take that train ride north. And when I’m prince, I’m going to have to temper my need to help others with wisdom and restraint, so I don’t damage what makes our society great.”
“Gosling… where is my little pegasus that I raised?” Sleet asked in a scratchy voice.
“He grew up, Mama.” Gosling felt his throat tighten. “He grew up and realised that being pretty wasn’t enough. He got involved in politics. He got a little therapy. He watched the nation that he loved collapse all around him, and then he saw the good in it.”
Saying nothing, Sleet stepped forwards, extended her wings, and wrapped them around her son’s neck. She buried her face against his neck and then stood there, leaning against him, unable to say a single word. Gosling became aware of the fact that other guardsponies were watching him hug his mother, and he didn’t care.
“I got tossed out of the herd too,” Gosling whispered. “That’s why I came here. My life became unbearable and I just didn’t fit in no more. I had to get out of the Broncs. What I thought was the biggest disaster in my life was actually my biggest opportunity. A chance presented itself. I got to break away from herd think and do a little thinking for myself. And it wasn’t so bad.”
“Gosling, darling… are you… are you gonna…”
“Am I gonna what?” Gosling asked.
“Are you gonna use your influence to make her life a little more difficult?”
“What kinda question is that, Ma?”
“Well, in a good way. To bring out the best in her. I don’t mean to make her miserable, I just mean, well, you know, with everything you said. You could give her the opportunity find out what she’s made of.”
Gosling wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that his mother understood, or the fact that his mother wanted him to put the squeeze on Skyfire for her own good. He wrapped his wings around his mother, gave her a squeeze, and wondered what he might do for Skyfire. His former fillyfriend might become a great pony someday. She was in need of guidance, of motivation, and healing. She definitely needed healing.
It was at that moment that Gosling had a brain bursting epiphany. Either that, or he was having a stroke, it was hard to tell. He had to lean on his mother as his knees went weak. His brain flooded with insight about herd think, ponies, individuality, and alicorns. He had trouble forming his thoughts into an expression. Individuals, true individuals, those most separated from the herd, those who had separated away from tribe and herd, those who had shrugged off pegasus thinking, or unicorn thinking, or even earth pony thinking, and had thrown off the shackles of herd think, those were the individuals most suited to become alicorns.
A pegasus locked away in pegasus thought would have no need of a horn and no desire to use it. A pegasus that could fly away would have no need of earth pony strength or cleverness to extricate themselves from a scrape, as earth ponies couldn’t just fly away from trouble.
But a pegasus that could embrace how earth ponies thought and approached life? A pegasus not trapped inside of the herd within a herd pegasus think? No longer stuck mimicking the behaviours of the other pegasi around them, mindlessly going about their day, doing what pegasi do? Or a pegasus that embraced how unicorns saw the world?
These would be the only ponies fit to become alicorns, to become a tribe unto themselves, a self contained tribe of one, open to the possibility of anything, with a body to match. A body equipped to deal with any sort of possibility that arose. And it was in that moment that Gosling saw his own potential stretch out before him, an endless expanse of infinite possibilities, and it very nearly crushed him. He wondered if this was how alicorns saw life, the world, and the universe around them.
In his mother’s embrace, he became a foal again. He squeezed his eyes shut as the first few tears slipped down his cheeks. The thoughts inside of his head overwhelmed him, shook him, it made him question everything he thought he knew.
Was this why ponies were stuck being ponies? If they had this awakening, if they were capable of embracing this open mindedness, could all of ponykind evolve into alicorns? Perhaps this had something to do with why there were so few alicorns now. Gosling didn’t know and he certainly didn’t have any idea of how to put his complex thoughts into words, other than his whole species was trapped in herd think.
“Are we really going through with this?” Luna tilted her head and looked up at her big sister. The bandages had come off of her face and she looked a little better, but she was far from her usual self. “We’re still mid-crisis. We art having second thoughts.” When her speech slipped, Luna blushed for but a second, then recovered.
“I think the real question is, are you going through with this?” Eyes narrowing with concern, Celestia looked down at her smaller sibling. Almost a week had passed since Luna had a building dropped upon her and being a good big sister, she felt a pang of worry for Luna. Of course, there were lots of other things to worry about, as far as Luna was concerned.
“We don’t know what you mean,” Luna replied as she took a step back from her sister.
“We.” Celestia said the word with a great deal of softness. “That is exactly my point. We. Us. The Royal We. The two of us. Engaged. Engaged to be married. You can back out of this, you know. We can find a way, if you aren’t comfortable.”
“I…” Luna’s utterance came out as a squeak.
“Yes, you,” Celestia said in a big sister-ish sort of voice. “Forget about duty for a moment, Luna. You’ve been dodging the issue for quite some time now. No more. The engagement gala happens in just a few more days. What do you want?”
Turning, Luna tried to flee, but Celestia grabbed her and held her in magical bonds. Luna tried to teleport away, but Celestia prevented that from taking place. Knowing she was defeated, Luna’s ears drooped, and the smaller alicorn submitted to the larger. Luna’s wings fluttered at her sides, and she shuffled on her hooves, while limping on her bad leg.
“I don’t know what I want,” Luna admitted in a soft, pained squeak.
Hearing her sister’s words, Celestia’s expression softened, and her eyes locked on to the back of Luna’s head as though she was willing Luna to turn around. Celestia knew that a contest of wills was about to take place, and she was willing to outlast Luna, if necessary. Her jaw clenched and her ears pitched forwards, angling out over her face.
“I like having him in the bed next to me.” Luna’s voice was little more than a shamed sounding whisper. “I like the comfort he brings me. I like that he hasn’t given up on me and he continues to try and win my affection, which he already has, but he doesn’t know it yet.”
“So—”
“Sister, please, be gentle with whatever it is you plan to say next.” Luna’s tone was pleading and the smaller blue alicorn turned around to face her bigger sister. The light streaming through the stained glass windows glimmered upon the tears building up in Luna’s eyes.
“As I was saying, you do have feelings for him.”
“How could I not?” Luna demanded, her mood shifting with a dramatic suddenness.
“Then what is the problem?” Celestia asked, wary of her sister’s ever-changing moods.
Luna’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She squeezed her eyes shut and her swollen face contorted in pain. One tear slipped out from her darkened, puffy, bruised eye and rolled down her cheek. Her barrel hitched and it caused her wings to twitch.
“Please, if you would just talk to me when you get like this, things would be so much better.” Celestia extended a wing and reached out for her sister, moving to wipe away the tear, but Luna jerked her head away, somehow knowing what Celestia was about to do without seeing.
“I w-w-want to love again,” Luna stammered as she fought to keep everything in. “I w-w-want us t-t-t-to be a f-f-f-f-family again.”
“Then come and be a part of our family—”
“I can’t.” Luna opened up her eyes and looked up at her big sister as more tears fell.
“Why not?” Celestia asked as she advanced, determined to comfort Luna if it was the last thing she did this day. That, and get an answer. “I don’t get it, Luna. I know he comforts you. You sleep better with him beside you. You wake up well rested and chipper. With more rest, your mood swings aren’t as bad.”
“You don’t understand!” Luna snapped as she backed away, all to aware of her sister Celestia’s touchy-feely approach.
“Then just tell me!” The bigger white alicorn stopped, drew herself up to her full commanding height, and stared down at Luna, who froze in place, unable to move, her one eye wide with terror, the other eye still far too swollen to do so. “I have grown weary of you keeping me in the dark… ENOUGH! This will come into the light!”
“I don’t want to hurt him!” Luna blurted out. “I’m so scared! I scared him once, I made him fear for his safety with me, and the guilt is unbearable! It hurts like nothing else! And I don’t want to sleep beside him, it scares me so—”
“Why?” Celestia asked in a soft, calm voice.
“Nightmares.” Luna moaned the word and blinked away the flood of tears. “I’m so worried that I’ll attack him in my sleep… or that I will kill him… it’s complicated for me!” A fierce hiccup caused Luna’s whole body to jerk and she winced in pain. “I want to be with him! I want to be with you! I want all of us to be together but I can’t deal with all of the stress and worry!”
Saying nothing, Celestia snatched up Luna in a fierce wing embrace, sat down upon the floor, and pulled Luna down with her. When Luna fought and resisted, Celestia overpowered her, drew her in, and sighed with relief when Luna ceased to struggle. The bigger sister comforted the smaller, and Celestia did nothing to stop the tears that welled up in her own eyes.
“Don’t give up on me,” Luna begged, “please don’t. I know I’m difficult.”
“What am I going to do with you, little sister?” Wrapping her wings completely around Luna, Celestia held her sibling close. Her ears twitched as Luna sniffled and sobbed. She sat on the floor, neck to neck with Luna, once again waiting out the storm that had brought the flood.
“I had a bad dream,” Luna murmured against Celestia’s neck. “I dreamed that I was seized by night terrors and I kicked Gosling in my sleep. I killed him… I killed him… and you… you were so angry… you made terrible accusations of me… you brought up everything from the past… and we fought.”
“Luna, I just don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
“Take me to the kitchen and feed me pie?” Luna replied in what could only be described as a foalish voice, a voice that very few heard. Unable to hold back any longer, Luna collapsed and went limp against her sister, her barrel hitching, and her stomach muscles spasming as she wept. “I want to be loved again but I don’t feel worthy. I want to be a mother again, but I don’t trust myself.”
“All those things are still possible.” Celestia’s voice was maternal, soft, gentle, soothing. She slipped a foreleg around Luna’s neck, pulled her close, and began to rub her sister, trying to bring her some comfort.
“Pie?” Luna whimpered.
“Yes, that’s possible too.” After a moment of consideration, Celestia added, “And a glass of milk.”
As the two sisters comforted one another, a roaring, crackling blizzard flew down the hallway, coating everything in a layer of sheet ice. Neither sister moved, but Celestia did raise an eyebrow. The air was filled with the popping sound of ice and extreme cold. A hazy blue mist fizzled as it lingered in the now near frozen air. Celestia could see her breath and Luna developed a snotcicle hanging from her nose.
“Things always get a little weird around here when school starts,” Celestia remarked in a matter-of-fact voice, sounding very blasé about what she had just witnessed. Her ears perked at the sound of giggling and laughter. She felt Luna’s body tense against her and she gave Luna a reassuring squeeze.
A powerful gust of wind blew down the hallway, and Celestia’s brows furrowed in concern. The icy wind and the blizzard that just blew past indoors was a somewhat disconcerting sign. Twilight Sparkle, immortalised in stained glass, was now covered in frost. Celestia had a passing thought that Frozen Twilight Sparkle needed a carrot for a horn.
And then, much to Celestia and Luna’s surprise, Gosling went blowing past, his wings spread to catch the wind like two sails, he went shooting past with terrific speed, his hooves skating on the ice, a whole train of foals clung to him, his hind legs, his tail, and Celestia felt Luna’s mouth drop open against her neck. The train of foals was quite long, and they all clung to one another as they went skating past. The hallway echoed with giggles as the impromptu pony ice train went blasting down the hall, propelled by wind spells, with a blizzard leading the way so everything would freeze over.
A lone foal brought up the rear, a little bright yellow unicorn with large, round glasses, and she went shooting by while sitting on her backside, shrieking as the wind sent her surging forwards, connected to her peers with a long tether of magic.
The little lavender alicorn made of stained glass and frosted in ice looked down upon the chaos with a serene expression that Celestia envied, her front legs spread wide in a beatific pose. Celestia snorted. Twilight was going to get hers someday, she had students of her own now.
“What are we going to do with him?” Luna asked in a raspy whisper.
“I’m going to have some words with Raven,” Celestia replied.
“Why? Why Raven?”
“Spend some time with the foals in the school,” Celestia said in a singsong voice. “It’ll be good for your stress levels, Gosling.” The big white alicorn rolled her eyes and then let out a disgusted snort as she heard the faint drip-drip of ice melting.
“Do I still get my pie? And my glass of milk?”
“Of course, Luna.” Celestia turned away from the chaos and looked down into her sister’s eyes. “And Luna…”
“Yes?”
“Before the engagement gala, maybe try going on a date with Gosling. It doesn’t have to be serious, it can be something fun. Do something that you feel comfortable with. Let him get to know the real you. Just try to be open and honest with him, please?”
“Okay,” Luna replied in meek voice.
“And talk to Cadance. I’m positive that she can offer some good advice.”
Nodding her head, Luna sniffled a bit, then replied, “I will, I promise.”
“Now, let’s go and get some pie. I’m starving.”
Sitting in the kitchen, two sisters sat eating pie and drinking milk. Celestia’s lips were stained purple-red from the gooseberry and pomegranate pie, while Luna’s dark blue colouring managed to hide most of her discolouration. The world had actually fallen apart around them, there was a freak blizzard blasting through the hallways of the castle, and neither sister seemed particularly concerned about much of anything.
This was sister time, an important time for both of them. During this time, everything else was pushed aside so they could focus upon one another, giving them a chance to bond and perhaps sort out their differences. Celestia poured herself another glass of milk and topped off Luna’s glass. During sister time, the bigger sister had the responsibility of looking after the needs of the smaller.
At least, that was how it had always been.
To a sharp eyed observer, there were differences that could be seen between the sisters. Celestia ate with a fork, cutting off reasonable sized bites of pie, while Luna ate with a spoon, attacking her pie and shoveling it in with gusto and a whole lot of lip smacking. There was also the fact that each sister had a whole half of pie in front of them.
“I wantsh a famishly againsh,” Luna said around a mouthful of pie, spraying flaky crumbs everywhere.
“Then have one,” Celestia replied, after she swallowed her mouthful of pie.
“Itsh complishcated.” Luna crammed in more pie and her cheeks bulged.
“I understand that.” Celestia took a prim bite of pie and watched her sister chew.
Swallowing, Luna then belched with a ferocity that would make a dragon blush. She pointed her spoon at her sister and licked a bit of pie crust off of her nose. “I need time, sister. I’m trying to get things sorted out, I really am. I’ve been in therapy for my mood swings for a while, and also been talking about, well, you know.” Stabbing her pie with her spoon, Luna carved off an enormous bite and then crammed it into her mouth.
“Luna, what would it take to get you to let your guard down and just be happy?”
Still chewing, Luna looked her sister in the eye. She swallowed, chewed, gulped down a bit more, and then washed down the last bit with a swig of milk. She licked the milk from her muzzle, her tongue was a bright, vivid orange against the blue of her pelt, and her eyes glittered with emotion.
“A sense of safety,” Luna replied.
“I don’t follow, dear sister.”
Luna sucked in a deep breath, licked her lips once more, then said, “A sense of safety. When I am ready, when I have everything sorted out, when I feel confident, I want Gosling to be durable enough for my advances. I don’t want to live in constant fear of kicking him and killing him in his sleep, or crushing him to death during a moment of passion.”
“In the past, this wasn’t a problem—”
“It is a problem now,” Luna said in a soft voice as she set down her spoon. “You don’t understand the worrisome scenarios I construct in my head.”
“Actually, I do.” Celestia set down her fork and looked Luna in the eye. “I think about all the different ways our little ponies are going to hate me, no matter what I do for them. The constant fear and worry drives me to distraction.”
“Exactly.” Luna watched as Celestia topped off both of their milk glasses once more. “So, I need reassurance.”
“How?” Celestia asked, leaning forward over the table.
“Do you really need to ask?” Luna’s voice was soft and sounded worried.
Still looking her sister in the eye, Celestia nodded.
“Gosling needs to be made more durable.” Luna let out a cough, swallowed, and then in a very low voice, she added, “Alicorns are far more durable than ponies. And to be honest, it was a problem in the past too, ‘tis the reason I prefered earth ponies. They were far more durable… and more stamina too.”
“Luna—”
“And when the time comes, I want to be the one who raises him,” Luna said, cutting her sister off. “I have been learning your animancy, your soul magic. You gave a tiny piece of your soul to Cadance, making her more like us. I wish to do that with Gosling, when the time comes.”
“Luna, I, when I did that, I didn’t realise what it would do to her, just how much it would make her like us—”
“I’m not being unreasonable, sister.”
“I shall have to think upon this, Luna. Like you, I need a little time.”
“I understand.” Luna bowed her head.
“More than anything, Luna, I just want you to be happy.”
Prince Blueblood was slouched in his chair, looking sullen, bored, and out of sorts. Which was pretty much normal, for Blueblood, or so Gosling reckoned. There were several bottles of wine near Blueblood on the table, with about half of them empty, and one of them open. There was no wine glass. Papers, quills, pens, and portfolios were scattered all around Blueblood. The prince’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy.
“You wanted to see me, Blueblood?” Gosling asked.
“Have a seat, Gosling.” Blueblood gestured at an empty chair, his ears drooping, and he let out a weary sigh as he somehow hunched over even more. The sigh became a groan deep down in Blueblood’s throat, and then the groan became a stifled belch. Blueblood shuddered and made a face that looked as though he had put something sour in his mouth.
Sitting down, Gosling did as he was told. He looked at Blueblood, worried for the pony that he considered his friend. The prince didn’t look well. For some reason, somehow, Blueblood looked old, and it filled Gosling with concern.
“Congratulations are in order, Gosling—”
“What for?” Gosling asked.
Blueblood did not reply right away. Instead, he lifted up the open bottle of wine beside him, slipped it between his lips, tilted his head back, and finished it off in a few gulps. He set the bottle down, patted his stomach, and then looked Gosling in the eye.
“You are the new Lord Mayor of Canterlot.”
“What?” Gosling squirmed in his seat. “No… what? Are you pulling my primaries, Blue?”
Shaking his head, Blueblood began to open another bottle of wine.
“Um, last I checked, I am some no name chump that didn’t finish school. This is a mistake. This is a really bad idea, I have no business running a city… and I don’t want the position just because I’m standing in Celestia’s shadow—”
“Shut up and listen,” Blueblood said in a voice that held no patience. He tossed away the cork, which bounced over the floor, landing with other discarded corks, and set the wine bottle down upon the table beside him. “For once, just be quiet and stop running your mouth, you silly peacock pegasus.”
Miffed, Gosling squinted at Blueblood, but said nothing.
Lifting a pen, Blueblood began tapping it against the edge of the table in a staccato rhythm. As he drummed, his face contorted into an uncomfortable scowl of irritation. He looked down at the pile of clutter before him, then lifting his eyes, he looked over at Gosling. He rested his right front hoof upon the table, setting it down upon a ledger.
“Once, a long time ago, there was a young, idealistic prince. He didn’t know what he was doing. He found himself in over his head. Politics was an unknown, unnavigable sea, full of lurking monsters and sharp, unseen rocks.” Blueblood paused long enough to belch, and then he continued, “But he was determined to make things change. And things did change. But to make those changes, the prince first had to learn how to navigate the treacherous seas of politics.”
Now curious, Gosling’s ears perked up.
“This young prince was given the position of Lord Mayor from the previous Lord Mayor. He had no clue what he was doing, but the governance of the city was thrust upon him. The young prince had two options—sink or swim.” For a moment, Blueblood appeared annoyed, perhaps at his own somewhat slurred words. “The young prince quickly made friends, associates, he found help. He learned how to call in favours, the fine art of exchanging favours, and he learned a great deal. He had help from good ponies, ponies such as Fancy Pants.”
Gosling knew Fancy Pants, and liked him.
“The Lord Mayor of Canterlot is a fine and noble tradition, stretching all the way back to the appointment of Smart Cookie by Princess Platinum. Each Lord Mayor has chosen his successor, typically an up and comer that is in dire need of a fine education in governance. The specific purpose of this position is to place the Lord Mayor among the movers and shakers.”
Tilting his head off to one side, Gosling continued to listen.
“It is time for me to pass this position on,” Blueblood said in a somber voice.
“Wait, Celestia said something about you trying to have all of the blame shifted upon you so you can step down… you’re quitting your—”
“Gosling,” Blueblood said, interrupting the young pegasus and smiling a sad smile. “I’m done, Gosling. I think I’ve been done for a while. I’ve grown tired of being a bastard. I’m getting jaded and I’m losing faith in the system I’ve sworn my very existence to protect.”
“But you can’t!” Gosling blurted out.
“Oh yes I can,” Blueblood said, offering up an argument. “No more Lord Mayor. No more official positions. I’m done. The only job that Celestia demands that I perform is to act as your tutor, which I will gladly do.”
“I’m flattered, thank you.” Gosling’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “But why? There has to be more to it than what you are telling me. You’re good at what you do. If you’re tired, just take a break for a while… have a vacation. Equestria needs you. We need you.”
“I’m growing older, Gosling. Oh, I’m not old yet, but I’ve hit that point where one begins to think about their life in more detail.” Blueblood let out a sigh, rubbed his temple, and then brushed his forelock out of his face. “Gosling, I’m in love. With my current positions, there are conflicts of interest for me if I pursue my relationship with Raven. I want to be with her while I am still almost young enough to enjoy it. I want to have a few foals with her. Watching you with my aunt… it has made me realise what it is that I want. I’m not quitting, I’m passing on the torch.”
“But I… but you… but we… us… all of us… I…” As Gosling stammered, he shook his head and then grasped at straws. “But what about democracy? Shouldn’t the mayor be elected?”
Hearing Gosling’s words, Blueblood let out a sincere chuckle and his sad expression melted away, like clouds parting to reveal a shining sun. “Gosling, the Canterlot nobles would lynch you if you tried to change their beloved tradition and Celestia would let them. There are some things that you just don’t change.”
His ears splaying out, Gosling assumed a more confused, submissive posture. He slouched in his chair, his eyes locked on Blueblood, and his mouth opened several times but no words seemed forthcoming. After several failed attempts to communicate, Gosling nodded and then went still.
“You’re learning,” Blueblood remarked. “You shouldn’t worry too much about the position. You’ll have help. Canterlot is a microcosm of Equestria. In time, you’ll learn how to run this city, you will learn the fine art of governance, you will learn how to budget, how to allocate resources, you will learn all of the little things you need to know to allow this city to continue to thrive.”
“Okay, I’m game.” Gosling’s ears stood up and it appeared as though some of his confidence was returning.
“Shining Armor was to be my replacement, but complications arose. He scarpered off and went north with Cadance. So much for duty.” Blueblood’s eyes fell upon the pile of papers in front of him and he chuckled again, his barrel bouncing up and down. His laughter was interrupted with a loud, gurgling belch. Lifting up his bottle, Blueblood began to swish and swirl the wine around.
As the wine in the bottle sloshed around, Blueblood said, “I suppose that Raven and I shall have to treat one another better. I don’t want my future sons and daughters thinking that I don’t love their mother, or don’t respect her.” Brows furrowing, he added, “I’ve never much cared for change, Gosling. It’s uncomfortable. This whole thing terrifies me.”
Gosling nodded, but said nothing.
“The official announcement will happen during the engagement gala. I will proclaim you as Lord Mayor and then I shall resign from my post. Fancy Pants is practically beside himself right now, he is looking forward to working with you. He is very, very excited. Fancy Pants is one of those ponies who enjoys change, provided it is none too drastic.”
“Blueblood, I don’t know what to say.” Gosling looked at the stallion sitting across from him, wishing that he could say something profound and meaningful. Try as he might, Gosling couldn’t find the words. “What about Raven?”
“Raven is staying in her position, but in a somewhat reduced capacity. The hunt for a replacement begins. Raven just turned thirty and her biological clock became a ticking time bomb. She wishes to advance our relationship to something a bit more gentle, such as tea and sodomy.”
“So, uh, the, uh, whips and the chains—”
“Oh, Gosling, we’re not giving up on those, how else shall we conceive offspring?” Blueblood had a wicked smile upon his face as he took a swig of wine. A little wine dribbled down his chin, staining it a vivid, purple-red. “Raven and I see it as a civic duty.”
“Civic duty?” Gosling asked.
Blueblood leaned forwards, now looking quite serious. “I do believe that you and Celestia are about to start a family. Your foals are going to need playmates.”
“I dunno,” Gosling replied, shrugging, “a smart parent keeps their foals away from those weirdo foals with scary parents.”
Throwing back his head, Blueblood guffawed and very nearly fell out of his chair. His whole body shook with laughter and the wine bottle landed upon the table with a thump, sending a geyser of wine shooting out of the neck of the bottle. Tears rolled down Blueblood’s cheeks, which caused him to reach up and wipe his eyes with his foreleg.
When he recovered, he stared at Gosling, his eyes bright and merry. Blueblood leaned forwards over the table, and lifted up his bottle again. “Here is to your good health, Gosling.” Lifting his bottle in salute, Blueblood waved his hoof and dismissed Gosling. He then proceeded to down the entire bottle in just a few gulps.
Setting down the bottle, Blueblood said, “You are free to go. I understand that you need to be fitted still. Good luck with that, I’ve never had the patience.”
“Thank you, Blue,” Gosling replied in a soft voice. “I mean it, for everything. I wish you weren’t stepping down, but I look forward to having you as a mentor.”
“And I look forward to having you as an uncle!”
Invisible, hidden from view, silenced from sensitive ears, two sisters watched as a pony squirmed, shying away from the seamstress and her pins. The pony, a pegasus, wasn’t too keen on such a formal fitting, and it amused the two sisters to no end. The smaller of the two looked quite sleepy and it appeared as though she might doze off soon. Her muzzle was covered in sticky pie crumbs.
“Yous need to be more careful!”
Watching, giggling, Celestia saw Gosling’s wing shy away from the fitting pins. She could see the fear in his eyes. He hadn’t yet figured out that the secret to not being stuck was to hold perfectly still. It was such a simple thing, really.
“It is the way he talks, dear sister,” Luna said in a voice that was heard by no one but the white alicorn beside her. “We doth find it most pleasing.” Smacking her lips, Luna then licked away a bit of pie from the corner of her mouth.
“Woah, dat’s a big pin yous gots dere, whatchu plannin’ on doin’ wid dat?”
Still giggling, Celestia watched as Gosling sidestepped the grumpy old seamstress. With an impish grin, Celestia leaned out her long, slender neck, placed her lips close to Gosling’s ear, and blew through puckered lips.
Ear flicking and twitching, Gosling stepped in the other direction and walked right into the seamstress’ pin as she advanced. He let out a yelp and Luna began to giggle, sounding quite foalish as she did so. Gosling stepped away, looking confused, his ear still twitching.
“Hold still!” the seamstress commanded.
“No way, I’s goin’ naked!” Gosling retorted.
“You can’t!” the grumpy old mare replied. “Now hold still, before I grab you!”
“Gah, you’s gonna stab me again!” Flapping his wings, Gosling began to back away, retreating from the ill tempered, stab-happy unicorn mare and her collection of stabtastic pins.
As he did, Celestia stuck out her hind leg, which he stumble-bumped into, and then Gosling tumbled down in a heap, sitting upon the floor as Luna tittered with fillyish laughter. A wide, wry grin spread over Celestia’s muzzle.
“Somepony tripped me!”
“You tripped yourself,” the old mare snapped. “Now come back here, so that I can fit you!”
“I’s goin’ naked.” Gosling regained his hooves. “I’s goin in my natural state. I’sa pretty pegasus, I don’t need no fancy jacket.”
“I love a challenge!” the old mare lunged and Luna, invisible, had to step aside to get out of the way. “You act like a peacock but really, you’re just a jive turkey!”
Gosling’s mouth fell open in shock as he scrambled away from the testy old nag trying to drain every drop of blood from his body with her instruments of impalement. He stumbled over a stool, lept over a padded bench, and then steeplechased his way through the fitting room, avoiding many treacherous obstacles with a startling ease.
As both sisters stood laughing, Gosling got the window open and then made good with his escape, leaving behind a spitting, sputtering old mare, who stood there shaking her hoof at him while he departed.
Princess Celestia thought of love, and with those thoughts came a flood of memories. She thought of Twilight Velvet and Night Light. With an almost teary eyed fondness, she thought back on how they were. Cautious friends at first, both wary of one another, with all of the fear and the worry that colts and fillies have of one another at those tender ages. In time, they became close friends, then best friends, and from there, things progressed.
Night Light and Twilight Velvet had the sort of love that could change the world, and it did. She thought back to how she had nurtured their relationship, coaxing it along, looking after it in much the same way as one did a prize rosebush. She eased them through their spats, their arguments, she helped them smooth over their troublesome rough patches when they entered their tumultuous teenage years.
Every now and then, a couple came along that had the potential to change the world. Not on their own, as individuals, but only together. Twilight Velvet and Night Light had been one such couple that Celestia knew, but there were others—and just like with Twilight Velvet and Night Light, Celestia tended to check up on those couples from time to time to see what they were up to.
She thought of her own love, then thought of vanity. She pushed the thought aside, she was allowed to think about herself from time to time after all, and she wondered what the future might hold. What great things might her offspring do? She had hopes and dreams, as all aspiring mothers did, but she also had her past to draw from. Most of her foals had been thoroughly average in every way. Some became soldiers, some became wizards, and she had birthed an extraordinary number of wainwrights, for reasons she could not explain. For whatever reason, she produced marvellous earth ponies. Big ones. Hefty ones. Earth ponies of exceptional stock.
Her sister Luna, on the other hoof, had quite a number of exceptional unicorn wizards and those talented in magics of all varieties, a fact that Celestia was jealous of in secret. Luna’s unicorn brood had shaped the very foundations of magic in Equestria, powerful conjurers, exceptional diviners, and clever protectors. Luna’s lineage dominated in the magical arts and her bloodline remained true, right up to Twilight Sparkle.
Many times had Celestia thought about telling both Luna and Twilight, but Luna didn’t want to know and felt that her offspring were better off making a name for themselves than relying upon claims of bloodline. Perhaps Luna had a point, but Celestia could not help but feel a sense of pride when she saw a sun emblem upon the hub of a wagon wheel, as her generations of wainwrights still produced the very best wagons one could offer.
Celestia’s offspring also grew the very best apples, but that was a closely guarded family secret.
Feeling maudlin, Celestia thought of Twilight, and she thought of prophecy. The stars will aid in her escape… It had proven true, that prophecy. Every single of one of Luna’s indomitable unicorn offspring had borne star cutie marks, and sure enough, one of them, Twilight Sparkle, had aided in Luna’s escape from Nightmare Moon. The big white alicorn heaved a sigh of relief as this thought passed through her mind.
Moving on silent hooves, Celestia stepped away from Luna, who now slept in her bed. She had tucked Luna in, kissed her good day, and she had waited for Luna to fall asleep, just as she had promised. Now there were things to do, important things that needed to be done. Celestia regretted that she could not remain at Luna’s bedside, knowing full well that the nightmares would come.
As she headed for the door, she thought of another cutie mark—not a star, but a rubber duckie. Rubber ducks were a symbol of happiness, she had done a little checking to satisfy her own curiousity. While rubber ducks also represented a love of bathing and cleanliness, the humble rubber duck was also a symbol of irrepressible happiness.
Stopping at the door, Celestia paused, gave her sister a final glance, and then departed.
“Message for you, Gosling.” Kibitz stood holding a scroll while waiting for Gosling to respond. “Don’t just stand there staring at me, take it. Of course you are going to get correspondence.”
Holding out his wing, Gosling took the scroll and then watched as Kibitz strolled away. One eyebrow rose, and the other furrowed down as he stared at the scroll. It was sealed with wax and in the seal was a crescent moon with a star inside of it. The scroll was also scented with perfume. He sniffed it a few times, knowing full well who the perfume belonged to.
Staring, he watched Kibitz go. For being so old, Kibitz could move. The old stallion was spry and wasted no time lollygagging around. Ears perking, Gosling returned his attention to the scroll that he held in his prehensile primaries. Why would Luna send him a scroll? Why not just talk to him directly. Had he offended her? Made her upset? It was hard to tell sometimes.
“Usually, you open those when you get them.”
The voice startled Gosling, who yelped, flapped, and took to the air. He banged his head on the ceiling, let out a cry, and then, hovering in between the floor and ceiling, he heard giggling as the scroll clattered upon the floor. Whirling about, he saw Cadance and Flurry Heart, both of whom were laughing. At him, no less. He landed, folded in his wings, and watched as Cadance lifted his scroll up from off of the floor.
“This looks important,” Cadance said as she held the scroll out.
“Yeah, I was about to read that,” Gosling replied, “but then somepony came along and scared me.”
Looking up at her mother, Flurry Heart giggled and said, “Mistah Goose is siwwy, Mama.”
“Yes he is.” Cadance gave Gosling a grin, and then, reaching out with her wing, she straightened out his mussed up mane. “Well, what does it say?”
“Why do you want to know?” Gosling asked.
“You have a scroll that smells of my Aunt Luna’s perfume and bears her seal. How could I not want to know? I am the Alicorn of Love, and that means all sorts of love.” Cadance waggled her eyebrows up and down at Gosling, all while making a purring sound.
Rolling his eyes, Gosling broke the seal with his teeth, spat out some wax, and then unrolled the scroll as he held it in his wings. As he read, his ears drooped, and his eyes widened. “Princess Luna formally requests my company at eight of the clock this even.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She wants to have a date with me?”
“Oh, goody goody gumdrops!” Cadance cried as she bounced in place.
Beside her, Flurry Heart mimicked her mother’s behaviour.
“She wants to watch a movie with me in the theatre. The castle has a theatre?” Gosling looked up from the scroll at Cadance and shook his head as his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You didn’t steal Luna’s perfume and send me this scroll, did you?”
Her mouth falling open, Cadance gave Gosling a shocked, astonished expression. “As if I would do such a thing!”
“Well, you did trick the three of us that night at the press conference,” Gosling said, recalling Cadance’s earlier treachery, “and you’ve manipulated pretty much every event right up to this point. You alicorns… you’re all a bit skeevy, you know that, right?”
Cadance’s shock and astonishment became mild irritation and her eyes narrowed as her ears pitched forwards. “Hey, you owe me a solid, you smack talkin’ peacock pegasus… I hooked you up with the hottest-homina-homina-homina-pony in Equestria and her sister—”
“Okay, fine, we cool.” Gosling held out his wings, his primaries spread wide, in an attempt to appease Cadance. “Don’t get your feathers in a fluff, I can dig it.”
At the same moment, both Cadance and Gosling began giggling. Flurry Heart circled around her mother’s leg, looking up at the laughing adults. Reaching out a wing, Cadance touched Gosling’s cheek and the two of them continued to have a good laugh together.
“Ah…”—Cadance wiped her eyes with her other wing—“Auntie Celestia and Auntie Luna have no idea what they’re in for. Please, Gosling, whatever you do, do not bring your collection of inner city accents to an important event or a diplomatic meeting. While I am certain that you would find it very amusing, others might feel genuinely threatened by such uncouth communication.”
“I ain’t makin’ no promises.” Gosling’s left eyebrow arched and he gave Cadance a cocky stare. He looked down at Flurry Heart, grinned, and asked, “Yo, Flurry, you wanna learn to talk like a hoodlum?”
“Don’t you dare, Gosling!” Cadance stabbed at Gosling with her wing and took an aggressive step forwards. “Shining Armor would go out of his gourd if he heard Flurry talking like that. He’s square, ya dig?”
“Hoodwum!” Flurry cried as she ran another circle around her mother’s leg.
“Fine, fine, I’ll behave,” Gosling promised as he retreated from Cadance. He took a deep breath, did his best to look serious, and then asked, “So, about tonight. How do I go about doing this and not blow it?”
Cadance froze in mid jab, blinked, and then pulled back her wing. She folded it against her side, flicked her tail, and stared at Gosling, eyes wide. “Gosling, before anything else is said, you must understand something… Luna is very dear to me—”
“I get that.”
“No, listen for a moment,” Cadance said in a soft, pleading voice. “Please… my concern for Luna is complicated. When I was made an alicorn, Celestia gave me a teeny, tiny piece of her soul, and with it came a whole lot of concern for Luna and her well-being. I can’t explain it.”
“Yeah, well, when you tricked Luna, you hurt her.”
“I know.” Cadance stood there with her eyes watering. “But just like her big sister, Celestia, sometimes I have to do what is right. Luna is stubborn like nothing else. Sometimes it takes drastic measures to get Luna to see that there is a problem or to make her react enough to do something about it.”
“Okay…” Gosling waited for Cadance to say more.
“Celestia and Luna both are stuck in their ways and sometimes it takes a lot to wear them down and make them accept help.” The corner of Cadance’s mouth twitched and her nostrils flared. “My sole motivation is to see that Luna is healthy and happy again.”
“I can accept that,” Gosling replied. “So, what do I need to do tonight to make sure this date goes off all nice and smooth?”
“Smoof!” Flurry Heart took a break from running around her mother and began to run laps around Gosling instead. “Smoof hoodwum! Sno’huff!”
“How can I say this in a kind and constructive way—”
“Just spit it out.” Gosling looked Cadance in the eye and waited.
“Don’t be such a spaz.” Cadance gave Gosling an apologetic smile. “Sometimes it’s okay, but sometimes you come off a little strong. Luna, depending upon whether or not she is manic or depressive, can be a little reserved. Her mood can shift without warning. She can’t help it, Gosling.”
“So I’ve gathered.”
“So, tonight, don’t be a spaz. Don’t be you, Gosling. My best advice is to listen to what she has to say, try to read her moods, and pay attention to her. But don’t be excessively outgoing. Don’t tease her. Don’t try to show off. Save all of that for Celestia, she gets turned on by your peacock antics.”
Blushing, Gosling nodded.
“Luna stays lonely… her mood swings make it difficult for other ponies to deal with her. If you want to get close to Luna, wait out her moods and remain with her for her highs and lows. Reassure her. Tell her that you won’t leave her during one of her difficult spells. But you have to make her believe it by staying with her, even when she’s being difficult. and let me tell you, she can be difficult. She will do everything she can to scare you away or push you away. She sabotages her own relationships so she has an excuse to stay lonesome and stuck in a rut.”
“So, reaching her is going to be a chore.” Gosling let out a sigh and shook his head.
“She’s worth it though, right?” Cadance asked in a worried voice.
“Hey, I’m committed to this. The good parts, the bad parts, the really bad parts, I’m not quitting. It’s easy dealing with Celestia… I just show her my wingspan and she laughs and we can carry on and everything is fine and good—”
“But Luna is complicated and you haven’t figured her out yet.”
Nodding, Gosling replied, “Yeah, something like that. I think that, if I’m going to reach Luna, I’m gonna need some maturity.”
“Well, maybe just a little,” Cadance agreed, “but there are times when Luna can be quite foalish. I do hesitate to think about the sort of trouble that the two of you might cause together.”
“So, any practical advice for me so I can put the moves on Luna tonight?”
What was he getting himself into? Gosling didn’t know. He was sweating in a cool room thinking about his date. It was almost zero hour. He wasn’t this nervous on his first blindfolded date with Celestia. Pacing, he stuck out his wings in a desperate attempt to cool off and walked with them fully extended.
He loved Celestia, and he knew that he was in with her. His feelings were far more complicated for Luna. There was pressure here, so much pressure. Luna was… Celestia’s other half, but also so much more. Luna was also her own pony, her own being, and she was but a half a portion of the Royal Pony Sisters, who were greater than the sum of their parts.
Celestia was like… well, Celestia was like a fine bottle of cider, there was some complexity there, but understanding all of it wasn’t necessary to enjoy it. Luna on the other hoof, was like a bottle of fine wine, far too complex and nuanced for him to get a taste for. But, he kept taking sips with the hopes that his palette would mature, and then, maybe, with time, he might enjoy what he was drinking.
But for now, he had to admit, it was far too bitter and complex of a drink.
“Gosling, if you do not cease your endless pacing, I shall be forced to sit on you.” Celestia looked up from the book she was reading and let out a muted whinny of disapproval.
“I’m nervous.” With Gosling’s current mood, his accent made it sound like he said Oim noyvous.
“And I am terrified that I am losing the country that I have so carefully nurtured.” Celestia cleared her throat. “I am trying to think of a plan to fix everything. To keep paying workers who labour in factories that no longer have owners or payroll services.”
“Eh, give the factories to the workers,” Gosling said in a somewhat nasal inner-city whine. “Hook them up with an accountant and a few advisors. It’s cheaper to pay an accountant and a few advisors than it is to pay a whole legion of labourers. Payroll can be banked on whatever goods they produce.”
“Hmm.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been listening to Twilight Sparkle?”
“Maybe you should listen to Twilight Sparkle,” Gosling replied, deflecting the question in a way that he knew would make Raven proud of him. As he spoke, he thought about the book he had tucked away. As soon as he had a chance, he needed to start reading it and seeing if any of the ideas could be put to good use.
“Gosling, my pretty little peacock, don’t you dare deflect my questions—”
“Or you’ll sit on me?” Gosling asked as he came to a stop. He saw a smile on Celestia’s face. “You just wait, I’ll give you something to sit on.”
“And what would that be?” Celestia’s eyebrow arched.
“My protruding plot pounding pony poking puddin’ pole.” Gosling resumed his pacing and he heard a giggle as Celestia closed her book. He angled and stretched his wings in a shameless, almost vulgar plumage display as he tried to get the fidgets out of his system. Then, as he walked, he began to preen his wings, worried that they might not be perfect.
“I’m writing that down so I can use it later.”
Gosling’s feathers already gleamed, but the little touch up couldn’t hurt anything. He pulled a long primary through his lips and allowed the cleft of his tongue to slide over the edge. After a few pulls on his feathers, he became aware that Celestia was staring at him. With a snort and a whinny, he turned his preening into a show.
“My sister has prepared one of her beloved comedies.” Celestia’s eyes lingered on Gosling, who continued to preen his feathers in a display of pure pegasus sex. “Gosling, just be the good pony that I know that you can be and everything will be fine. Now, you should go. Arrive early. That will impress her. While Luna loves punctuality, she prefers those who arrive early.”
The feather in Gosling’s mouth slipped free and glistened with a fresh coating of oily waterproofing. “That’s good to know, thanks.” He raised his damp wing in a sultry salute, bowed his head, and then took off at a saucy canter, with his tail hiked high.
Celestia was only all too happy to watch him go.
The ‘theatre,’ such as it was, was a room down below the mezzanine off of the central hall. Gosling had been told that at one time, long ago, it served as a special set of cells that all faced off towards the rising sun, so that those condemned to die would know that their hour was approaching. Now, the walls had been knocked down to make one large room and the space had been turned into a theatre.
Entering the double doors, he paused and had a look around. There was a white movie screen against one wall, large, but not very large. There were piles of pillows, a few sofas, one long couch, a few chaise lounges, and several overstuffed chairs. There was a faint musty smell, like an underground cellar. It was chilly down here, the modern heating and cooling ducts didn’t seem to make it to this area. Chilly was good. Chilly was snuggling temperatures.
Ears perking, Gosling heard a soft creak from the other side of the room. Luna entered, and his breath caught in his throat. She had been groomed, she was gleaming from hoof to ear, and her wings were immaculate. But something was different. Something was very, very different and Gosling’s mouth fell open.
Luna’s mane was not the usual ethereal cloud full of stars. It was a pale, pale blue and hung down in glorious strands along her neck, her withers, and spilled down her forelegs. After about six seconds of staring, Gosling’s wings exploded out from his sides with dual supersonic cracks. A demure smile teased around Luna’s lips, but did not show all of itself, only peeking out on one side or the other as Luna tossed her head around to show off her long, slender neck.
“Shmokin’...” Gosling’s hind leg betrayed him and began stomping against the floor with rhythmic thumps. In his mind’s eye, he could see Cadance scolding him, and right away, he took control of himself. He forced his hind leg to stop thumping, but try as he might, he could not fold in his wings. “Mmmm…. daaayum.”
“When your flattery is sincere, it amuses me greatly.” Luna batted her eyelashes at Gosling and strode into the room with a slow, well practiced sashay that made her hips rock. “Am I to understand that I am pleasing to thine eye?”
Before Gosling could make a mess of things, he clamped his mouth shut and nodded.
“I have selected an amusing comedy for us tonight. It is called ‘The Barn in the Woods.’ It is one of my favourites—and I have quite a collection of films. They intrigue me. I do not like electric lights, but I am fascinated by film projectors.”
Again, Gosling nodded. All he could think about was Luna’s neck, and making little nibbles all up and down it—little neck nibbles as he caressed Luna’s back with his belly. A droplet of sweat rolled down from behind his ear. He was having some difficulties breathing as he thought about pushing her mane aside his with snoot so he could could get to the blue velvet flesh beneath.
“Art thou well?”
Snapping to attention, Gosling fell back on the only thing he knew, but his wings remained rebellious. “This princess’ pegasus is fine, Ma’am.”
A coy smile made itself known and did nothing to hide itself. Something in Luna’s eyes twinkled and her right ear quivered. “I think I see some of what my sister sees in you.” Luna’s words were soft spoken and the white of her teeth became more visible as her lips pulled into a satisfied grin. “Come and sit with me, Gosling, so that I might dim the lights and start the film.”
“As you so desire,” Gosling replied, his words sincere and full of meaning.
The beam of light from the projection booth and the glow of the screen was the only light in the theatre. Gosling understood why Luna had done whatever she had done with her mane, it was a source of light and might have been distracting. Her body was heavy and warm against his own and somehow he managed to resist the powerful urge to lean over and nibble her neck. Her scent, the way she smelled, her perfume and her scent as a mare, almost drove him into delirium.
He was going to behave through this if it killed him.
Already, he was having trouble paying attention to the movie. It opened with a wide panning shot of some woods and there were screechy violins playing. Some credits rolled, but Gosling didn’t read them.
“Luna…”
“Yes, Gosling?”
“How did you heal so quickly?”
“Oh, that…” Luna’s words trailed off. “A little illusion magic goes a long way. It is quite taxing.”
“Then make it stop,” Gosling whispered, “don’t be something you are not.”
Letting out a faint sigh as her appearance rippled, Luna closed her eyes and ended her spell. Her face became misshapen and lumpy once more. One eye was still swollen, as was her ear. She looked at Gosling for a moment, and then turned away.
As more credits rolled, Gosling reached out with his hoof, hooked around Luna’s neck, and pulled her closer. Not knowing if he was doing the right thing, he kissed her cheek, a quick, respectful peck, and then nuzzled the corner of her jaw for good measure. It had all been an act. The entrance, the sultry sashay, her stunning good looks, it was all an act. An act to impress him.
“You kissed me.” Luna’s voice sounded strained.
“Forgive me,” Gosling replied.
“No, you kissed me after the illusion fell away… I am hideous.”
“Shut up.”
There was an almost inaudible gasp of shock from Luna and both of her ears pricked. She did not reply, but turned to look at Gosling, her eyes were both angry and curious. After a few seconds, the anger faded away and was replaced with something else, something that Gosling could not read, but he tried anyway, staring into her eyes.
Then, after a small eternity of staring, Gosling knew what it was. Fear.
Turning his head, he looked to the movie screen and watched the film as Luna recovered herself. He was scared too—he didn’t know if his little ‘shut up’ was the right thing to say or not. On screen a group of fillies and colts, all teenagers, all traveled along a dirt road through the woods. Some rode in the wagon, some walked beside it, and there was one lone earth pony in the whole group, and he pulled the wagon.
Several things all snapped into Gosling’s head all at once. Luna was scared silly beside him, he was scared silly himself, this film wasn’t a comedy, and that poor earth pony was gonna die. Turning his head, Gosling’s snoot bumped into Luna’s jaw and he said, “That earth pony is gonna die.”
“How do you know?” Luna asked.
“There’s like a rule… this is a horror movie… and that earth pony is gonna die. They always do. Pegasi fly away, unicorns magic themselves to safety, and earth ponies… earth ponies get stuffed into wood chippers or get chopped by a chainsaw.”
“A rule?” A quizzical expression contorted Luna’s swollen face. “I have never heard of such rule.”
“Horror movies have rules,” Gosling replied as the teenagers on screen continued towards their doom. “Earth ponies die—”
“That’s tribalist!” Luna gasped.
“But it is true.” Gosling felt Luna shift against him, getting herself more comfortable. “You never have nookie in a horror movie. You’ll die. Stay a virgin in a horror movie, and you’ll live. If you are a black or otherwise dark pony, you gonna die. If you are a light pony, or better yet, a white pony, you gonna live. Them’s the rules.”
Looking disturbed, Luna shook her head. “I’ve never noticed this before. Gosling… you’re black… and grey… and I’m dark blue… we’d never survive a horror movie.”
“Ah, but I’m a virgin, so there’s a chance I might live.”
“Hmm.” Luna’s mouth pressed into a lopsided line. “I can regrow my hymen at any time.”
Ears afire, Gosling prevented himself from making any sort of remark on what Luna had just said. The back of his neck felt sweaty and he had to struggle to keep his perverted mind from hijacking his mouth. He had to be a good pegasus, no matter the cost, even if it meant his head exploding.
“How come I have never noticed these ‘rules’ before?” Luna asked.
Shrugging, Gosling felt Luna snuggling up a little closer to him. One foreleg was now around his neck. He had to behave. “If the horror movie takes place in the woods, then the inner city ponies are gonna die. If the horror movie takes place in the city, the hick ponies are gonna die. Especially hick earth ponies, they gonna die bad. It’ll be a real splatterfest.”
“That’s… atrocious.”
“That’s just how it is. Ponies pay bits to watch movies where earth ponies get chopped to bits, especially the hick earth ponies. Movies is messed up, Luna. The black pony is always the bad guy. And if you’s black and red, you’s a special kind of bad guy, and you gonna die in a spectacular way. White ponies or light ponies are always the good guys and the audience roots for them.”
“But… you and I… we’re the good ponies, Gosling.” Luna’s voice held a note of pain in it. “Thinking about the many films in my collection, everything you just said holds true. How come I have never noticed?”
“Because, yous was too busy watching earth ponies getting chopped to bits or rootin’ for the good guy. And you knew they was the good guy, because they is all colour coded so the audience doesn’t have to think.”
“Gosling…”
“Yes, Luna?”
“I hate to give away the movie, but the earth pony pulling the wagon is the first to die.”
“I sorta figured that, Luna.”
“Let us watch the movie, and see how your rules hold up…”
Watching the movie, Gosling was absotootly horrified. That is to say, when the griffon wearing a plague doctor mask appeared on screen, Gosling’s nethers clenched and he let out an audible toot. After a fraction of a second of thought, he decided not to acknowledge it and just pretend that it didn’t happen, as it didn’t seem that Luna had heard it anyway.
The revving chainsaw was just too loud.
Gosling had never been fond of horror movies, and he couldn’t figure out why Luna called this a comedy. Far more horrifying was the fact that Luna was laughing. Big belly laughs. The griffon wearing the spooky plague doctor mask brought his chainsaw to bear upon the unfortunate earth pony and Gosling covered his face with one wing, peeking out from between his primaries.
“Ugh.” Gosling tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Ancient buffalo burial grounds were no place to build a barn, any idiot knew that. He wasn’t sure if he could keep watching. Luna’s laughter was both loud and haunting. “How could you call this a comedy?”
“Because, it is absurd!” Luna replied in booming voice. “It is clearly an absurdist comedy. And just look at the special effects! A mix of practical physical effects and some very impressive illusion spells. It actually looks like the chainsaw is being inserted into that poor earth pony’s rectum.”
“It sure does.” Gosling felt his stomach lurch and he closed his eyes. The special effects were too good for him. He kept his wing raised between himself and the screen. Being a mostly black or otherwise dark pegasus, he would never, ever, under any circumstances go into a barn built over an ancient buffalo burial ground in the middle of the woods. He wasn’t sure if his virginity would protect him.
As for Luna, he couldn’t stop thinking about how she had said she could regrow her hymen. The thought lurked in the back of his mind and he felt a full bodied sense of curiousity about alicorn anatomical quirks. He also wanted to know why they were so heavy, and how they managed to fly.
The chainsaw went quiet, but now, the gut emptying sounds of an earth pony being skinned could be heard. The griffon wanted a pony suit—made from real ponies. Gosling let out a gibber of terror and wondered how he had ended up in this situation. This was some next level unrated, uncensored stuff. This was the sort of stuff his mother never let him watch, and now, he understood why.
Once more peering out from between his primaries, Gosling tried to endure whatever came next.
Kill count: one dead hick earth pony, one dead charcoal grey inner city pegasus, and one dark green unicorn mare that acted like a total slut. Each had died in some horrific manner, a chainsaw up the bum for the earth pony, the inner city pegasus, who was too stupid to live, somehow got tangled up in power lines that ran through the woods for some unknown reason, and the slutty unicorn mare died of a tragic hair dryer accident.
Luna had laughed so hard that she was now disheveled looking. Her eyes were wide, almost manic looking, and Gosling had to wonder if she had cramps in her swollen face from the rictus grin she was sporting. Luna was having the time of her life, and as for himself, well, not so much.
Thus, it was quite shocking when Luna’s laughter died all of a sudden, and she went very still. Gosling felt a growing sense of worry. Was one of her turns coming on? A change of mood? She was now trembling against him and clutching at him with her forelegs, both of them. Her manic rictus was gone—now, her lower lip was protruding in almost foalish expression of fear.
No, terror.
“Here comes the scary part,” Luna breathed.
Ears perking, Gosling noticed the musical shift. It sounded like… it sounded like a porn groove. Something deep, with twangy bass, and funky. On screen, the pale pink, almost white pegasus mare was succumbing to the advances of a dark purple unicorn. She was timid, and virginal, and much ado had been made about the fact that she had never been bred.
For the life of him, Gosling could not understand Luna’s sudden mood shift, but it was real. Oh boy, was it real. He could feel her damp sweatiness. She was clutching at him, grabbing him, turning him towards her, and then, in a very awkward turn of events, he found himself sitting on his haunches, pressed belly to belly with Luna, who was also sitting on her haunches.
Oh crap, this was bad. The little soldier was already awake in his guardhouse.
“She’s so young… so full of promise. She wants to go to beauty school and learn to be a stylist. She’s so smart… and he’s such a cad. He’s a knave, a roustabout, a wastrel… he is a vulgar thief of virginity and purity.”
Yep. On screen, he was getting ready to mount her. The dark coloured thuggish pony was about to deflower the innocent almost white pony. He had somehow convinced her to give up the goods, telling her that he didn’t want to die a virgin, and she was dumb enough to fall for it. It was a pity rutting, no doubt.
“All the good things she might be hinge upon this moment. She is young, so full of promise… so innocent and naive, she is far too young to be placed in a situation of such emotional intimacy… I can’t bear to watch!”
Woah, Luna was actually freaked out. She was fine with chainsaw murders, but the porntastic sex scene that was about to unfold was about to be her undoing. Gosling had trouble reconciling what he was experiencing. Luna had issues. Right now, she was trying to climb him like a tree and Gosling had trouble keeping his balance as Luna groped him.
Noisy, sloppy sounding, exagerated pornagraphic sex happed on the screen, actual sex. Not just clever camera angles to create a steamy love scene, but graphic, explicit sex that Gosling had never actually seen in such detail. Sure, he had looked in a few magazines, read a few books, but this… this was new. The subway was entering the lower downtown station.
And his body responded. The soldier started to leave the guardhouse right as Luna pushed him over, and he fell back on the cushions, with Luna on top of him. She clung to him, her eyes closed, and the moist, humid heat of her velvety feminine body made everything worse.
There was also the fact that she was crushing him.
The date, such as it was, had gone south like the birds. Luna had tears flowing down her cheeks and Gosling was trapped. All he could think about was what was now between him and Luna. Had she even noticed? Would she have his head lopped off? Would he be a gelding? The blaring sounds of barnyard pornagraphy filled his ears. Lots of whinnying, lots of nickering, and far too many wet splats.
“Luna,” Gosling whispered as he struggled to draw air into his lungs, “I’m so sorry.”
“I will not hold against you what you now hold against me,” Luna replied.
Above him, Luna squirmed as she clung to him, making everything worse. The feel of her, the scent of her, and the sounds of the movie playing, all of it emboldened his little soldier. Gosling gasped, sucking in some much needed air, and tried not to think about what his instincts were screaming at him to do. In this position, it would not be difficult to take Luna.
“Gosling, if you took me right now, I would not begrudge you.”
For one very long second, Gosling thought about it, then replied, “No, Luna, I wanna survive this horror movie, I got a strike against me, being a dark pony.” Much to his surprise, Luna laughed. She laughed as she cried, and he could not make out what she might be feeling. He didn’t understand Luna, she had come undone by the mere idea of porn, but she had been fine with graphic murder and death. And now, she had given him an invitation to bone her silly.
Somewhere, in the middle of all of this turmoil and confusion, Gosling realised that what little friendship that he had with Luna was far too precious to him to risk. He gripped her, hugging her, pulling her even closer to him, and he felt her tensing. But he did not take her. Hoping to reassure her, he spoke a few words into her neck, pressing his muzzle against her.
“When you get better, we’ll do this. But not till then. I want to love you, but I want to be your friend even more.”
Much to his relief, the movie died. The sound of somepony’s plot being pounded ended, and without the glow of the movie screen, the room plunged into darkness. Luna was still above him, crushing him, and his little soldier was still feeling mighty bold. He held Luna as she clung to him and just tried not to think about the issue, the rigid, throbbing issue between them. Closing his eyes, not needing to see in the darkness, he caressed her neck with his muzzle and rubbed her back with his forelegs. The feathers of her wings ruffled against his touch.
“It might be better if you just took me and got it over with. Then I could stop worrying about it. Maybe I wouldn’t have nightmares about it anymore if we just got it over with. I don’t need to like it, I just need to endure it. It is my obligation to you once we marry.”
Luna’s confession was little more than breathy, hissy whispers in the dark. Gosling wanted her so bad that it was hurting him. Parts of him ached. He gritted his teeth together for a moment, then shook his head. Summoning up all of his willpower, he said, “No, Luna, you’re sick. I don’t mean to say that you are disgusting, just that you are unwell. And you don’t take advantage of sick ponies, ‘cause that’s wrong. When you get better, I’ll be here waiting.”
“Do you promise?” Luna asked as she clutched Gosling’s body in the dark.
“I give you my word, Luna.”
“But do you swear it?”
Gosling began to realise that this was just part of the same sickness. Instead of confusion, he responded with patience. “Look, I don’t know how to convince you, but yes, I swear it. Right now, I could be taking you and I ain’t. If that don’t show that I’m dedicated, I don’t know what else to do.”
Luna began sobbing and Gosling just lay there, crushed beneath the alicorn above him. She weighed a ton, there was no two ways around it. The urge still plagued him. Even with his inexperience, he knew that in the position that he and Luna were in, it wouldn’t be hard, not at all. The temptation was every bit as painful as the physical aspect.
Even worse was the fact that Luna would allow it to happen. As strong as she was, as powerful as she was, with her magic that allowed her to toss around the moon, she would let it happen. For the very first time, it occurred to Gosling just how frail Luna was. The thought crushed him even more so than Luna’s body did.
Celestia needed a husband and a father for the foals she hoped to rear. Gosling understood that and it made everything easy. It was a simple need with a simple solution. Luna, on the other hoof, she didn’t need a husband right now. No, she needed something else. She needed a friend, someone to carry her along until she got better. In the back of Gosling’s mind, he realised that Luna might not get better for a long time, if ever.
Luna’s full body sobbing caused parts of her to rub against him and that wasn’t helping matters none. Gosling also worried about if the guards might be listening, and if so, what did they think he was doing to her? The very thought disturbed him.
“Hey,” Gosling whispered as he placed his muzzle closer to Luna’s ear. “Hey, how about we get you sorted out, and then maybe we could go for a walk.” He paused and thought of Luna’s condition. “Or… wait, I know, I could strap myself into a chariot and I could pull you around Canterlot. Just no cracking the whip, please.”
“You would pull me around in a chariot?” Luna lifted her head and her horn glowed with a faint light. She sniffled and her lower lip quivered. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yeah.” Gosling was worried about how much more of Luna’s body rubbing up against him he could take.
“I’d like that.” Luna rolled off of Gosling and lay on her back beside him.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Gosling knew that he would be grateful for the cool night air. He lay there, parts of him limp with relief, other parts of him as hard as stone. He felt Luna snuggling up against his side and he wasn’t sure if any further stimulation was a good idea. In the faint light provided by her horn, he could see her face and the illumination caused her tears to glisten with reflected brilliance.
“Gosling…”
“Yeah?”
“When you pooted earlier…”
Gosling squeezed his eyes shut.
“You didn’t say anything, and I knew that there was something I liked about you.”
“Oh.”
“Twilight has a game… she calls it crop dusting.”
Gosling opened up his eyes and looked Luna in the face.
“Perhaps you’d like to play with us sometime. It is a game that friends play, or so Twilight says.”
“I’d like that. We need to crop dust Cadance.”
“Oh, agreed.” Luna sniffled and her lower lip quivered a little less.
“A good coordinated strike on Celestia… she’d have no way of knowing whodunit.”
“I like the way you think.”
“The engagement gala is coming, Luna.”
“I just hope I’m in the right mood.”
“If you’re not, Twilight and I will just crop dust you.”
“I think I like you a little more.”
“If we had foals, Luna…”
“Yes?”
“We could have a little army of crop dusters.”
“I like the way you think… now, about that chariot ride…”
With a wry smile, Princess Celestia looked down and read the newspaper headline written in big, bold print. Her eyes darted over it a number of times, and each time they did, her smile grew larger and larger. It got to the point where her immense grin caused the corners of her eyes to crinkle.
Future prince pulls Princess Luna through streets of Canterlot in chariot, serenades her with song, ‘Blue Moon.’ Who says that romance is dead?
Even with all of the trouble, it was a glorious morning. The engagement gala planning was in full swing. The castle was full of ponies, many of them former students and old friends. The castle felt alive again. It had grown quiet and stale—indeed, for a time, Celestia had thought that it felt like she was living in a museum. But there was life here now, laughter. There were also hungover ponies at her breakfast table.
“Nephew, how are you this fine morn?”
With a groan, Blueblood slumped over.
“And you, Raven?”
There was no response from Raven, who moaned and then rubbed her left temple.
“Must have been quite some night last night.” Celestia smiled and her ears waggled with happiness. She lifted up her tea, slurped it, and then beamed like sunshine. “I am a very happy pony this morning. I don’t know why.”
“Last night was weird,” Raven said in a low, subdued sounding voice.
“It sure was.” Blueblood nodded. “No bits, no bridles, no riding crops. We didn’t even do anything, we just sat on the couch together, drinking wine.”
“He proposed to me—”
“Congratulations!” Celestia’s enthusiastic bellow made everything on the table rattle and both hungover ponies flinched in pain. “Blueblood, Nephew, I really do wish you would reconsider. We could find a way—”
“No…” Blueblood waved his hoof at his aunt. “No no… I’m sorry, but my priorities have changed. I will always be around to help, I will tutor Gosling, but I am done. This crisis was my last. I think we’ve all had an awakening of sorts. You, Auntie, have found your mojo again… your groove, as it were. Luna is starting to have something that resembles happiness, I think, it is very difficult to tell. And I… well, ah… I have found something very dear to me. After all the pain she has caused me, it is time to return the favour. I understand foal birth is excruciating.”
“It hurts,” Celestia said, reflecting back upon the past, “but in truth, I’ve always welcomed the pain. I think I’ve grown to miss it.” The beaming mare let out a sigh that made the tea in her cup ripple and looked over at Raven. “I really do wish you the best of luck. I’m excited that my foals will have little playmates.”
“I’ve had a good life… and I’m really good at what I do… but I am no longer happy doing it. One can only be a bastard for so long. I am sorry, Auntie, for whatever it is worth, I feel as though I am letting you down.” Blueblood slumped over the table in a most uncouth way and closed his eyes.
Celestia’s beaming smile vanished. She sat there for a moment, looking at the pony that few loved, but she treasured. Blinking, she watched him breathing, the slow rise and fall of his barrel. “Cheer up, Blueblood. Every ending is a new beginning. I am not at all disappointed or upset with you. I love you a great deal and I want you to be happy.”
Lifting his head, Blueblood opened his eyes and looked at his aunt. “Sod it, I’m going to start crying.” Saying nothing else, not even excusing himself from the table, Blueblood got up and left. He walked away in a hurry, and the sounds of sniffling could be heard as he departed the room.
“Last night,” Raven said in a voice that was almost a whisper, “as we cuddled together, I realised that I really do want to spend the rest of my life with him. He… well… I don’t know how to say it, but, last night… well, I’m no longer afraid of growing old.”
Hearing these words, Celestia’s beaming smile returned.
“Gosling showed up and suddenly, everypony is a whole lot happier. I can’t explain it. The maids are happier, the castle staff are whistling again as they roam the halls. Kibitz… Kibitz walks around smiling and I keep thinking that changelings have replaced him. Everyone is in a better mood… and we’re in a major crisis! I can’t explain what is going on. I think it is because everypony is happy to see you happy again.”
Celestia, who suspected something different, said nothing.
Eyes half closed, Raven poured herself a cup of coffee as she gave herself a hug, wrapping her forelegs around her barrel. She leaned over her coffee cup, managed a weak, pained smile, and then something that was almost a giggle came out of her mouth.
Raising an eyebrow, Celestia waited, hoping that Raven would say something. Here was a chance to just be mares. Not a princess and her devoted assistant, not employer and employee, but just two mares, who were both in love and wanted to be happy. Celestia felt like a pony again. Not the immortal sun goddess, not the old mare up on top of the mountain, and not the relic from the past. She was a pony, a mare, with needs, hopes, dreams, and aspirations. She had desires, things she wanted, and a nation that she loved a great deal, a love that had been refreshed, renewed.
“Last night was magical,” Raven whispered. “No screaming. No shouting. No violence. Just a long conversation and a whole lot of booze. It started off with wine and little kisses. Things progressed to brandy and neck nibbles. The drinks got harder and the petting got heavier, the booze flowed like water, but there was no need to perform. There was no pressure, no need to relieve stress. We were happy.” She closed her eyes and a hungover grin spread over her muzzle.
“The griffons have a song for nights like that one.” Celestia nibbled on her own lip for a moment, trying to remember what it was.
“Oh?” Raven opened her eyes and lifted her head.
“Ah, yes, I remember…” Celestia inhaled, drawing air into her lungs, and then she prepared her singing voice. “Salmon chanted evening—”
“Boo!” Raven waved her hoof at Celestia and let out a pained giggle as the vice on her brain clenched tighter. Her giggles turned into laughter when Celestia joined her, and Raven enjoyed a mare to mare moment with the princess. “Where is Gosling? Shouldn’t he be joining us?”
Glancing down at the newspaper, Celestia grinned hard enough to make her face ache. “Oh, he was out late last night, and my sister issued a royal decree forgiving him his duties for this day. Both of them attacked me this morning, jumping me in my own bed. We laughed together…” Celestia’s words trailed off and for a moment, her grin vanished. She blinked a few times, shook her head, and then her grin returned, but it was different, it was a happy grin, tinged with sadness. “Luna and I, we haven’t been happy like that since…”
Across the table, Raven kept a respectful silence and sipped her coffee.
“I mean, we’ve had moments of happiness together, we’ve been happy… but this morning… it was… it was like we were foals again… fillies who had not yet been crushed by life, responsibility, and the weight of the crowns upon our heads.”
Still sipping, Raven’s eyelids sagged a little as she hunched over the table.
“It’s funny… you don’t really remember how things were until you experience them again somehow. You can have moments of happiness, even intense happiness, and you can believe that you are truly happy, but then you have this moment… this magical moment where the moon, the stars, and the planets align and suddenly, you are happy again, that happiness from your youth.” Pausing, Celestia rubbed her neck with her wing. “I’m not sure I can explain it. It’s like reclaiming something you didn’t know that you had lost.”
Leaning over the table a little more, Raven propped her head up on her hoof after securing her elbow against the table. Proper manners didn’t seem to matter now. She lifted the cover off of the sugar bowl and began dumping far too many little white cubes into her cup.
“For so long, since Luna’s return, I’ve had to act like her big sister… or her mother. This morning, we laughed like we did a long time ago, before the shadow overtook Luna. Before I had to be the big sister… it felt so good to be that way again… I didn’t realise…” Celestia wiped her eyes with her wings and then smiled, her lower lip quivering as her nostrils flared. “Luna pinned me down so that Gosling could zerbert my stomach, and there was the old trust again. There was no hidden sense of worry, fear, nor panic in the back of my mind. She was my sister once more.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Raven remarked.
“Excuse me, Raven, but I must go. I think I need to speak to my therapist, if she can be summoned at this early hour. Or maybe I can find Cadance.” Celestia pushed back her chair, got up, and then looked down at Raven. “Thank you for listening. I wish you the best of luck with Blueblood, and I hope you find happiness.”
With nothing left to say, Celestia turned about and departed, her hooves clicking on the stone tile floor.
In the bustle of the late afternoon, two figures made their way down the hall. Both moved as though they were tired, both were wearing sunglasses, and both had a most curious accessory—shirts—shirts with a witty phrase emblazoned across the chest. The pair moved together, one limping, the other moving at a slowed gait. Both were messy looking, each of them had bed head.
The larger, an alicorn, with a very messy long blue mane, her shirt said, “Blame my sister.”
The smaller, a pegasus, with a shorter silvery mane, his shirt said, “I’m with stupid.”
As they passed, the maids and stewards chuckled, laughed, and giggled. The pegasus, exuberant, feather-gunned and clucked his tongue at every pony that walked by. This continued for quite some time, until they encountered a white unicorn stallion with a blue mane.
Upon being feather-gunned and tongue clucked at, the white unicorn stallion joined them, and the blue alicorn conjured up a shirt, which the new member of the group put on. The duo, now a trio, continued through the halls. After a time, the blue alicorn frowned as she remembered something vital, and she conjured up a pair of sunglasses, which were given to the new member of the trio.
The white unicorn stallion, his shirt read, “I married the first filly I fronked.”
Princess Cadance had to struggle to keep her composure. She fought to even breathe and each inhale was a struggle, followed by the strain of exhaling. She looked at her husband, then at her aunt, and then at the grinning pegasus. The corner of her eye twitched and for a second, she was certain that she was going to lose it.
“I can’t even take any of you seriously right now,” Cadance said to the group. Her held back laughter came out as a shudder that made her whole body wiggle. “Shining Armor, that shirt… I can’t even…”
“Join us.” Gosling bowed his head. “We’re forming a club. Become one of us, Cadance.”
“No!” Unable to hold it back any longer, Cadance giggled and she was forced to turn away from the group as she bit down on her lip. Great big snorts forced their way out of her nose and her wings flapped against her sides, tickling her, and doing nothing to help the situation. She started to run away, but there was a firm tug on her tail that prevented her from leaving. She turned her head to glare at Shining Armor, then fell apart when he made a duckface and peered at her over the top edge of his sunglasses.
Unable to resist any longer, Cadance accepted her shirt and a pair of tacky sunglasses with chunky white frames. Succumbing to peer pressure, Cadance put on her shirt and slipped the horrid glasses over her eyes. She then feather-gunned the group and made a clucking sound with her tongue.
The trio became a quartet and the newest member sported a shirt that proclaimed, “I fronk on the first date.” Setting off together, the quartet prepared to unleash mayhem in the halls of Canterlot Castle with the hopes of adding a fifth and final member.
Everything had become a whirlwind of events and Gosling was powerless to stop them. He was stressed, but managing. He knew that today was going to be one of the most stressful days ever. Tonight, at eight o’clock, the engagement gala would begin and he would formally ask both sisters to marry him.
“Gosling, you seem distracted,” Celestia said from where she sat at the end of a table, going over proposals to smooth over the current state of political and social unrest. “You’ve hardly touched your breakfast. Your stomach isn’t bothering you again, is it? Acid reflux?”
“I’m fine. It’s just that I am required to ask two very pretty mares to marry me later.”
“Did you ever get fitted for your tuxedo?” Celestia asked as she sorted through her papers.
“I’m wearing my doublet. I’ll be attending in my formal regalia as a guard,” Gosling replied. “Lantern Specialist Gosling. Intelligence. I’ll be suave and debonair. Later today, I’ll be getting my mane and tail done.”
“Mmm, that makes me moist, just like a fresh cupcake,” Celestia murmured in an absentminded voice.
“Is it hot in here?” Gosling looked around the room, flapped his wings, and blinked a few times. “It’s hot in here. I’m going outside to get some air.” The pegasus, who was already on his hooves, walked in a circle while fanning himself with his wings. “Unseasonably warm.”
“Oh, Gosling, darling, I can put myself into season at any time. One of the advantages of being a fertility goddess.” Amused, Celestia tittered at her own joke and watched as the flustered pegasus fluffed out. Grinning, she licked her upper teeth with her tongue and then returned to her papers.
“I need some fresh air!” Gosling cried as he hurried for the doors.
He rushed off, his tail streaming behind him and his wings flared out from his sides. With fluid grace, he hit the door at speed and there was a meaty thump as the door opened. Right away, Gosling came to a halt as Hotspur and a sleepy looking Princess Luna came into view. Hotspur was holding his nose, pinching it with his fetlock.
“Why, ya mug, I’ll murderise yous! Watch where yous is going, ya twit!” Hotspur reached out one wing and slapped Gosling right across the face.
From where she sat at the table, Princess Celestia gasped.
Princess Luna, on the other hoof, let out a chuckle.
“Murderise me, will yous? Why, yous good for nothing pickle poacher!” Extending his own wing, Gosling slapped Hotspur across the face.
Once more, Princess Celestia gasped and now her mouth hung open in an ‘O’ of surprise with her eyes as large as saucers. Both ears stuck out sideways in shock, awe, and surprise. She sat there, astonished at what she was watching unfold. The sheer barbarity of it all.
Again, Princess Luna let out a chuckle. But this time, she also faced the two pegasi. “What are you both? A couple of wise feathers? Whatta buncha mugs!” With a lightning fast stroke of her wing, Luna slapped both Hotspur and Gosling in one fluid motion, getting one first and then the other, producing a sound like a thunderclap as she did so.
“Woob woob woob! My face, my pretty face!” Gosling cowered back from Luna and looked up at her with two wide, hurt looking eyes. “Ya chuckling fetlock head, yous almost broke my pretty nose!”
“Luna… did you… did you just slap two of our most loyal guards?” Celestia asked in a hesitant voice. “This is not acceptable behaviour. We do not strike such devoted servants, that is uncouth.”
Saying nothing, Luna turned to face her sister. She extended one wing and made a slapping motion, primaries spread. With her other wing, she made a powerful slap against her side, smacking her ribs. Once more, a thunderclap filled the room. Beside Luna, Hotspur was chortling and Gosling was laughing like a loon. Whipping out his own wing, Gosling whacked Luna right across her moons with a meaty sounding slap. A sharp eyed observer might have noticed his two hind legs slapping into one another.
“Don’t touch the princess like that again, ya goose-brained nincompoop!” Hotspur slapped Gosling in the face again and then followed it up with another slap, this time from the other side.
Gosling, extending two primaries on his left wing, went to stab Hotspur right in the eyes, but Hotspur held his own wing in front of his face and blocked the eye gouging assault. Ready for the block, Gosling clipped Hotspur in the chin with his other wing. At this point, Princess Luna had lost control of her giggling and her whole body shook with laughter. She slapped Hotspur and then, for good measure, she slapped Gosling too.
Rolling her eyes, Princess Celestia let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, I can’t believe what I am witnessing!” Her wings unfurled and papers were lifted from the table in a whirlwind as she glared over at the slap-happy bunch of stooges keeping her from her work. “Just… go! Go! Get out of here, and get that out of your systems before the gala tonight! I can’t… I can’t even deal with you right now, you… you… you mugs!”
Using her magic, Celestia shoved the trio out the door and then slammed the doors shut behind them, ignoring Gosling’s strange, goose-like “Woob woob woob!” sounds of protest. Biting her lip, she fought to keep the giggles away, and a crazed smile spread over her muzzle as the sounds of the slapfest continued on the other side of the door, out in the hallway. She sniggered, almost losing her composure, and then after a polite cough, she tried to resume her work as her wings hitched against her sides.
“Pegasi, what brutes,” Celestia muttered as she returned to work.
Enjoying a moment of quiet calm, Gosling rubbed his cheek against his mother’s neck. She was soft and smelled like rain—no, a thunderstorm. Eyes closed, he continued to nuzzle her, oblivious to any feeling of awkwardness and embarrassment. He felt his mother’s wing stroke his neck. The soft, muted sounds of feathers brushing up against hair filled his ears, and it was like snowflakes falling on a quiet night.
For a moment, the world melted away and Gosling felt like he was small once again. He pressed up against his mother, needing to feel her against him, and a part of his mind wished that he actually was tiny again, back to a size when his mother could hold him. He thought about how he used to squirm, buck, and wiggle when his mother tried to hold him, and now, he longed to go back to those days.
“Gossy… I know I’m suppose to treat you like an adult now, but I want to call you Gossy again… just for a while.”
Glad to hear his mother’s voice, Gosling said nothing, but pulled his mother closer. She was smaller than him now, maybe two thirds of his size or just a little smaller. All sorts of fond memories percolated through his brain. Time spent in the tub with his rubber duckie. Those precious moments in the park when his mother had time off on a sunny day. Trips to the museum, to the libraries, to theatres, all of the desperate effort to make sure that he was educated, cultured, and had his horizons broadened. A pegasus was only as good as their horizon, and his mother had given him the sky. Because of her, he could soar.
Because of her, he had reached both the sun, the moon, and the stars.
“All the hard work paid off, Gossy. All of my hard work is done. Your hard work is just beginning though. You’re so young, Gossy, and that’s good. You’re going to have an entire lifetime to make a difference and do right. And I know that you will do right—”
“Because you raised me right.”
“Don’t interrupt your mother.” Sleet snorted, then relaxed. “I am so very proud of you. I’ve long had such hopes and dreams for you, and you’ve exceeded them all, Gossy.”
Holding back the need to sniffle, Gosling rested his head on top of his mother’s. “Ma, it’s funny… I’ve started praying again… the past few days as the gala approaches. Right after my date with Luna where she and I brokered a sort of peace agreement. Well, I’ve prayed for a long time, but the past day or two, I’ve meant it.” Gosling paused and blinked. “No, that’s not right either. I don’t know, Ma, but it’s been different. You taught me to pray as a foal, and those… those are some of my happiest memories with you. I was just so happy to have you near me… holding me… and I felt so safe being able to close my eyes and know that you were watching over me.”
“Gossy,” Sleet’s voice sounded a little strained, “the First Tribes are all going to turn to you now that you are to be the consort to the Sisters. It’s been centuries, Gossy. They are going to turn to you for guidance, for leadership… and for reasons of faith.”
“I’m devoted, but, Ma, faith has never been my strong point. I have trouble remembering all of the holidays and the dates and the special moons and suns. If our kind find out that I can’t remember all of this stuff, I’m so afraid I’ll shame us all. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Becoming a consort to alicorns can really change a pony’s views on his faith.”
“That’s just it, Gosling. It’s faith. Everypony experiences it in a different way. Sure, we have traditions, and we should strive to hold to those traditions, but we shouldn’t be held back by those traditions. This is a new time, a new era, Princess Luna has returned, and the First Tribes shouldn’t see her as the False Light, the Dark One or the Fallen One any longer. We should see her as a Sister, worthy of our worship. You can make new traditions. You can renew the faith, not just yours, but everypony’s. You shouldn’t just love Luna, but you should also worship her in a very public and open manner. I understand that it will be controversial and there might be trouble, but think about how much better Luna might feel if the First Tribes restored her as a figure of reverence rather than revulsion?”
“You never stopped worshipping Luna, did you, Ma?”
“No,” Sleet admitted in a very low whisper, “because I know what it is like to make a mistake and have everypony judge you for it and never forgive you for making it. Granted, my mistake wasn’t anything like her mistake, but I know what it feels like to be shunned.”
“Because of me.” Gosling’s ears went limp and fell against his temples. “You got shunned because of me.” Thoughtful, Gosling, who never much understood the mechanics of faith and prayer, had a question form in his mind. “Ma… we of the First Tribes… we believe that the alicorns draw strength and power from our faith.”
“Yes, Gossy.”
“Ma, what if Luna is all messed up and broken because so many of the First Tribe don’t worship her no more? What if she’s struggling because the faith she needs isn’t there? Assuming that the whole faith thing is actually true and makes a difference.”
“Gossy… I don’t know, but that terrifies me, Gossy.”
The pair of pegasi lapsed into silence as they cuddled one another. Gosling rubbed his chin against the top of his mother’s head and listened to the soft sounds of her breathing. He thought about how his mother had taught him to pray and then he thought of the prayers of others. His mother taught him to address the alicorns on high, or the Sisters, his mother had taught him to pray in plural. But others, others mentioned Princess Celestia by name, or mentioned only the Greater Light, or the Glorious Sun.
“Gossy, you got smart on me… you started asking me questions that I don’t know how to answer. Sometimes, I feel like I’m letting you down by not knowing how to give you answers.”
“Naw, Ma, it just means that I need to work and find the answers for myself.”
“Gossy, don’t take this the wrong way, but as your mother, I need to tell you that you should have a nap before tonight. You need to be at the very top of your game. The princesses need you and your country needs you. A lot is riding on this gala. It’s going to be filmed and shown in theatres. Tonight, you get to play your part in history.”
“Yeah, I need my beauty rest. I gotta be pretty tonight.”
“You know, Gossy, you get your stunning good looks from me, right?”
“Don’t I know it!”
“That’s my colt. Give me a kiss, you silly mug, and then I shall leave you so you can get a nap.”
Obeying his mother’s request, Gosling lifted his head, angled it down, and kissed his mother right on the nose. He felt a pat on his neck and then his mother kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Feeling misty eyed, he gave his mother a hug, and then he felt her pulling away so she could go.
“Okay, everypony, we can do this if we stick together. Equestria is falling down a bit, we’re having a bit of a rough patch, but that is all the more reason to put on a good show. We need to show the world that life must go on, even with hardship and trouble.” Princess Celestia took a deep breath and let it all out in a slow, steady exhale.
Staring at the double doors, Gosling also took a deep breath, then, in a low voice, he admitted to the others, “I’m a little scared.”
“We all get a little scared sometimes,” Celestia replied.
“We do not.” Luna, looking grim, glared upwards at her sister.
“Luna, when you returned, you were terrified of the vacuum—”
“‘TIS A LIE!”
“—the electric toaster spooked you—”
“LIAR!”
“—and you ran away shrieking when the toilet was demonstrated.”
Luna made no response, but turned away from her sister and gnawed her lip. Gosling, who knew better, didn’t even crack a smile. Oh, later, he would crack a smile, later, when it was safe, and Luna was nowhere to be found, he would crack a smile, he might even laugh, but not now. For now, he put his guard training to the test and kept a straight face.
“Princess Cellophane?”
Arching an eyebrow, a wry smile manifesting, Celestia looked down at Gosling, who somehow had a straight face as he addressed her. She couldn’t do anything about what he had just said now, but later… oh, later, she was going to get him, and get him good. “What?” she asked, and was more than a little galled when Luna started sniggering.
“Are you sure you want to walk in the middle of Luna and I when we make our big entrance?”
“Yes, why? I am the tallest. The two of you are smaller. We shall present a pyramid of power upon our grand entrance, and use geometry to wow the masses.” Princess Celestia beamed, she had this all figured out and she was good to go.
“Yeah, well, I’m worried,” Gosling whispered.
“About what?” Celestia asked.
Turning his head, he looked up at the taller alicorn that stood between him and Luna. “I’m worried that the ‘masses’ as you call them will see you as coming between Luna and I. Keeping us apart. I worry that Luna will pick up on this and feel left out. And I fear that Luna will develop yet another complex, as our therapist calls it.”
“Oh dear,” Celestia gasped.
“Oooh, Goose brings up an issue that none of the royal planners thought of.”
“Goose?” Celestia looked down at her sister.
“When a foal grows up, you call it a pony,” Luna replied, “and when a gosling grows up, you call it a goose.” The blue alicorn began snickering to herself and avoided her sister’s heavy gaze. “Remind me again, what are we paying our royal planners for?”
“Well, they have cutie marks for this sort of thing and it is impossible for them to find work doing much else. They have to be employed somehow, we owe them that.” Celestia, looking troubled, gave herself a quick shake and then tried to smooth her feathers out using her magic. “Right, Gosling, if you will, please, stand between my sister and I. Also, no matter what you do, do not think about how the public might see this, as you coming betwixt my sister and I.”
Clearing his throat, Gosling asked, “Did you just slip into Ye Olden Speech?”
“Stress, Goose, stress. I’m feeling it. Now, quiet you, before I decide that you are a little Gosling again, and as such, should be sat on.” Princess Celestia did everything she could to try and hide the fact that she had the jitters. Gosling’s observations on public perception had left her more shaken than she cared to admit.
“Oooh, Goose, look out, mine sister, Princess Cellophane, she has many cakes stored in her caboose—”
“Why you little imp!” Celestia, turning on her sister, let out an indignant whinny and sent Gosling scooting away as her wings unfurled. When Luna stuck her tongue out, Celestia let out an exasperated sigh, rolled her eyes, and let Luna have her fun.
Gosling, the dutiful sort that he was, took his place in between the two sisters, if only to keep some distance between them. He looked over at Luna, smiled, and then up at Celestia. He gave her a saucy wink and felt his confidence soar. Mindful of his appearance, he checked his black doublet, looking for wrinkles, lint, or out of place hairs. After a good once over, he found that he was still immaculate. Each of his little lanterns were in order. His collar, trimmed in Celestial Gold and Lunar Purple, was perfect. Each of his brass buttons had a perfect mirror finish.
“Be majestic,” Celestia said to herself in a low voice.
Lifting her head, Luna smiled a regal smile, and she too, gave herself a reminder. “Be bold.”
With a glance at his own wings, Gosling quipped, “Be pretty.”
And with that, Celestia threw the doors open.
Gosling didn’t even have the luxury of squinting when he walked into the blinding lights. What seemed like a million cameras flashed, obscuring his vision and searing his eyes. Celestia had warned him about this and he had to keep a perfect, flawless face somehow as his retinas were scorched. Horns blared and he had to keep his ears, now left sensitive by his condition, still as a statue, even with the pain. He had to maintain pegasus perfection.
Head high, he faced his adoring public, but had trouble seeing them through the white spots in his vision. There were gasps, cheers, cries, and hoots. The sound of armor rang out as many guards snapped to attention. Just the sound of so many ponies breathing all in one space was almost deafening.
Nearby was Fancy Pants and his wife, Fleur Dis Lee, a pony that Gosling had met and spoke to only for a moment. Seville was near the couple and he was burdened down with a filming rig to hold his movie camera. Princess Cadance was approaching and she was wearing a fabulous lavender gown trimmed in pink and white pearls.
Princess Twilight Sparkle was wearing a simple, understated yellow dress that made her look fantastic. She stood with her brother, Prince Shining Armor, her mother, Twilight Velvet, and her father, Night Light. Of Flurry Heart there was no sign. Gosling turned to face Princess Cadance as she drew nearer.
“We have a complication,” Princess Cadance said in a muted whisper as she came to a halt. “General Chesty McPuller has arrived and he demands the right to give you away, as he is the highest ranking member of the guard.”
“Oh dear.” Princess Celestia’s ears splayed out sideways and a cautious look of worry appeared upon her face. “He’s a hard one too.”
“There he is, the hardest earth pony to have ever lived.” Princess Luna pressed up against Gosling’s side and visible worry could be seen upon her face. “I could try to talk to him, maybe see if I can dissuade him—”
“No, ladies, I have this.” Gosling used his wing to adjust his collar, then pulled away from between the princesses. He moved with slow, measured steps, a walk he learned from his time with rotten balance from messed up ears. The walk served him well now, as he looked both majestic and regal.
Chesty was walking towards him and Gosling kept his cool, knowing that the old pony wouldn’t spoil the princesses' big night. He was trusting his fellow guard to do the right thing. Chesty McPuller was a good pony, the best pony, and he was loved by the guard. The old stallion was olive drab green and his mane was the colour of putty. He was covered from ear to hoof in scars, including a downright sphincter clenching one on his neck.
“Lantern Specialist Gosling, reporting for duty, Sir.” Gosling came to a full halt, stood at attention, and saluted with his wing. He then stood there, stock still, unmoving, and waiting for Chesty to respond. He would stand here all night, if necessary, because that is what one did when dealing with Chesty.
Gosling was terrified. He was dealing with the pony that had once gone into a manticore den, armed only with a stick of dynamite, a match, and a standard issue hoof trimmer. No one was quite sure what took place inside the cave, but the manticore seemed to have suffered an explosion focused on its rear end.
Squinting through one weathered eye, Chesty began to look Gosling over, and his ears twitched as he looked the colt up and down. “Eh, well, my girls deserve somepony they can look at. You ain’t much, but you’ll do.” The old stallion’s voice sounded as though he gargled with whiskey sours every morning and every night before bed. “I understand that you are the one that sent me Private Skyfire Flash.”
Gosling began sweating beneath his wings and under his doublet. “Sir, yes I—”
“Stop calling me sir.”
“Right, Commander—”
“Call me Chesty, son.”
“Right, Chesty. I encouraged her to join the guard and do right.”
“You did a good thing, Rubber Duckie. I like her. I like her a lot. With some polish, she’s gonna be somepony. You did right by this pony’s guard by getting her to join. I’m gonna make something of her, just like something was made of you.” Chesty grinned, revealing a smile that was missing a few teeth. “Tell me, Rubber Duckie… do you think you are worthy of my pretty girls that I’ve spent my whole life protecting?”
Right away, Gosling knew this was a trap. If he said no, he was doomed. If he said yes, he was doomed. Chesty had just given him the ogre’s choice. Die fast, or die slow. Almost panicking, Gosling tried to think of an answer or some means to wiggle out of this. Every second mattered.
“Chesty McPuller, I am one of your sons, a pony in this pony’s guard. I have fought and bled for you, the honour of this guard, for this nation, and for the princesses, which I serve. I think the better question is, do you think your little girls are worthy of me? I am the son that your guard created in your image.”
Chesty McPuller’s eyes narrowed into slits as he got right up into Gosling’s face. His snoot bumped into Gosling’s, and the two stallions stood there, eye to eye. Chesty’s ears flickered around, pivoted, and his wrinkled, wizened expression became a ferocious scowl. Snorting, Chesty’s tail flicked from side to side, swatting at invisible flies. A low growl could be heard in his throat.
And then he said, “Not sure about the white one, she’s trouble, but the blue one will do you right if you do her right. You have balls, Rubber Duckie. Some poor recruit is going to be assigned to cart duty to help you carry those two big brass balls of yours around.” The old stallion turned and looked at the two sisters for a moment and it appeared that he was chewing on lemons. “Give me your word, Rubber Duckie.”
“Chesty, I give you my word as a pegasus, I will do right by your girls.”
“Aye.” Chesty nodded and backed away. “Watch out for the white one. Like I said, she’s the troublesome one, but I love her a great deal.” Chesty raised his hoof in a ground pounder's salute. “I’ll be checking up on you, Rubber Duckie. And thank you again for the new recruit. A stallion my age needs hobbies.”
“I’ll do my best to send more your way, Chesty.” Gosling relaxed his salute and smiled.
“Do it, and I’ll pay you in brass polish,” Chesty replied. “Now, if you will excuse me, Rubber Duckie, but I have me a powerful thirst, and there is an open bar here. A stallion has to keep his priorities straight.”
“Thank you, Chesty.” Beaming, Gosling stood there, looking and feeling very pleased with himself as the old earth pony sauntered off to have himself a drink. Turning his head, he saw the sisters, both of whom were smiling and looked relieved. He also saw Seville, and realised that the whole thing had just been filmed.
Overcome with confidence, Gosling decided it was time for an impromptu wingspan display.
“Okay, before there are any other unexpected complications, we should do the engagement announcement.” Cadance looked a little frazzled. “Chesty had me scared… I was completely unaware that he had the authority to do what he did. He ambushed me and gave me an earful like I’ve never had before about military tradition and protocol. Poor Shiny almost fell apart.”
“I did not.” Shining Armor turned his head away and found something interesting to look at, which just so happened to be his sister Twilight, who was giggling. The white stallion turned pink with embarrassment, then he began to mutter and grumble to himself about the time that Chesty sacked a city all by himself, armed only with a scroll of surrender and a quill.
Gosling knew this story, it involved the enemy general signing in his own blood, because Chesty had forgot the inkwell. He also knew it to be categorically true, because he himself had seen the newspaper archives with his own eyes. Chesty had served as his own catapult and had bombarded the city with boulders.
“Okay, okay, let’s do this. We can do this.” Princess Cadance smiled and let out a nervous huff. “Everypony take their places. We all know what we are doing, so let’s do this. Places please!” The pink alicorn let out a nervous laugh as the ponies around her went about doing what needed to be done.
Princess Celestia stood side by side with her sister, Princess Luna, and both of them had broad smiles upon their faces. A large white earth pony stood near Celestia, a pony that Gosling did not know, but thought that could be mistaken for Celestia’s sister. Twilight hurried over to stand near Luna, and Twilight, who smelled like champagne, could not stop tittering.
The tension grew and Gosling was starting to feel a little too warm. The air conditioning needed to be turned up and he didn’t care if it turned sensitive places on mares into glass cutters. He focused his attention on Celestia, who was wearing a gown with every colour of the sunrise and festooned with sequins. Luna was wearing something simple, black, and slinky.
Every eye was on him. Every camera was focused on him. Gosling could feel the pressure. If it grew any warmer, he would be a cooked goose. The big white mare beside Celestia was grinning at him in a most unnerving way and Gosling did his best to pay her no attention. Perhaps they would be introduced later.
“Gosling, you’re on… do you have your speech?” Cadance asked in a low whisper.
Nodding, he stepped forwards, reached beneath his belly with his wings, to where he had his speech tucked inside of his doublet, and said in the most cocky voice he could muster, “‘Scuse me ladies, while I whip this out.”
The reaction was immediate. One half of the room screamed, both feminine and masculine voices. Every alicorn head in the room looked around in alarm, save one, who also screamed. One third of the crowd let out a gasp and stood with eyes riveted upon the pegasus standing before the two alicorn sisters. One fifth of the room fainted dead away, and of that number, about one tenth of those were male. The big white mare beside Celestia looked on with giddy excitement and a manic grin.
Surveying the devastation, Celestia clucked her tongue and said, “Little black pegasus ponies from the inner city should not say such things…”
Holding a folded sheet of paper, Gosling surveyed the aftermath of the incident he had caused. He glanced up at Celestia, who had a wry smile, and then there was Luna, who for some reason, looked rather disappointed. There were only so many reasons why Luna could look disappointed, and Gosling made a few quick deductions. Another look around revealed that smelling salts had been fetched and kind hearted ponies were helping those with fragile sensibilities who had fainted. Twilight Sparkle, who had screamed, still had her face hidden behind her wings.
Using his wings, Gosling unfolded his speech, cleared his throat, and had himself a good look around. He didn’t see his mother anywhere and he felt his frogs go sweaty. There were a lot more ponies here than he thought there would be. Returning his attention to Celestia and Luna, Gosling gave them both a loving smile.
“I probably could have wrote this a little better,” Gosling began in a voice loud enough to carry through the hall. “But then, that wouldn’t have been me. That would have been Gosling the speech writer, the pony trained to use words for maximum impact. It wouldn’t have been Gosling, the colt who grew up in inner city Manehattan and was raised by his mother. It would not have reflected who I am or what I am.”
He took a moment to allow his words to sink in.
“No, after much sweating over the issue, I decided to just write down whatever and go with it. It’s a little rough, just like I am. If you want perfect, you’ll have to go and speak to Sleet, my mother. There is a pony that can do no wrong.”
Once more, he paused and allowed the audience a little time to laugh.
“Celestia, you are my princess and the object of my heart’s desire. After a lot of thought, I realised that there wasn’t much I had to do to please you. I didn’t need to make any fancy promises or make any over the top romantic declarations. We both know what we want from each other. I promise to be your mate. I will be the father to your foals. I will help you in the governance of this country. As long as this body draws breath, it will serve you.”
Taking a deep breath, Gosling turned his attention to Luna, and took a step closer to her.
“You, Luna, on the other hoof, I had to think long and hard on how to make a meaningful statement. There is a level of complexity there that I worry that I am not mature enough to deal with. I’ll admit to that and I don’t give a damn who knows it. Luna, I give you my word that I will be there for you, no matter what. I will be your friend, no matter how difficult it might become. I promise to be the one pony who will never turn you away or shun you. As both your husband and as a pony of the First Tribes, it is my intention to adore you, love you—to worship you and your sister in equal measure. As long as I draw breath, I will work to see that you are restored to your rightful place of reverence. This is what I offer you as your future husband.”
There was near silence in the great hall, just the sounds of breathing could be heard.
“I beg that both of you will grant me the privilege of being your husband.” Gosling lowered his head, extended his wings, and dipped into a low bow. He tried not to think about the fact that Luna was all teary-eyed, because he feared that it would make him teary-eyed.
“I accept!” Luna shook her head, sniffled a bit, and then bolted, her masterful illusion hiding her limp. “Please forgive me, as I shall return… I must have a moment to myself.” With no other words said, she vanished through the double doors the three of them had stepped through just a while ago.
Lowering her head, Celestia lifted Gosling’s head with her wing. When she had him in reach, she gave him a smouldering kiss worthy of the cameras. After pulling away, she replied, “Of course I accept.”
The roar of applause filled the hall. Hooves stomped, ponies whistled, there was a joyful cacophony. Gosling took this opportunity to give Celestia another kiss and maybe show off his wings a bit, all while Cadance paced back and forth. The alicorn of love had a radiant smile and her wings flared out from her sides as Gosling and Celestia kissed.
After letting the crowd cheer for a bit, Cadance began trying to quiet them down, flapping her wings and saying “Hey!” a few times. When the crowd quieted down enough to allow Cadance to speak, she announced the next event of the evening.
“Moreh Quiet Knish would like to say a few words. He is Equestria’s oldest and most respected Moreh, an elder of the faith for the First Tribes, and the Confessor for the Pegasus Pony Tribe.” Cadance held out her wing to a withered old pony held up by two younger ponies on each side.
The wrinkled old pegasus tottered forwards, held up by two younger pegasus colts. The old pony trembled from some sort of palsy and he struggled to smile for the crowd. Gosling, cottoning on to what was happening, saved the old pegasus a few steps and came over to him.
Lowering his head, Gosling gave Moreh Quiet Knish a respectful bow.
“You,” Quiet Knish said in trembling, wavering voice to Gosling, “you were raised by a single mother, right?”
Rather than respond with the hot-blooded anger of youth, Gosling chose patience that came with maturity. There was no way that Moreh Quiet Knish would come all this way to cause trouble. No, the Confessor no doubt had a lesson to teach, and Gosling chose not to make a fool of himself. He lifted his head and looked the old raisiny pegasus in the eye.
“Yes,” Gosling replied in a voice that carried through the room. “My mother, Sleet, she never married. She raised me by herself. We were shunned by many. She was shunned for having me out of wedlock, and I was shunned just because I existed, through no fault of my own.”
“Shunnin’!” Quiet Knish almost spat out the word. “Look at us all! So quick to judgment!” The old pegasus spoke with so much emotion and force that he wobbled and his assistants had to work to keep him upright. “It was not our best and brightest, raised by two parents that became the consort to the Royal Pony Sisters… no! I want all of you to think about that for a moment!”
The old pony glared at the audience in a way that only old ponies could.
“Shunning…” the old pony said again, this time a little quieter. “We’re so quick to judge what we think is evil. What we think is wrong. And what we don’t like… we shun. We turn our backs because we think that whatever evil that plagues those we shun might spread to us. We turn away and we condemn! Sleet the pegasus raised a fine son, and she did it without us. She did it alone. And we should all be ashamed, myself included.”
A shameful silence fell over the crowd. Over at the bar, an older green earth pony swigged whiskey from the bottle, then lit up a cigar with a match. Gosling could feel many eyes upon him, including Celestia’s.
“Nothing good can ever come from what is shunned… isn’t that the old proverb?” Quiet Knish’s knees banged together and the palsy overpowered him for a moment. “We have made a grave and terrible mistake, we ponies of the First Tribes. We have shunned one of our princesses… we have shut Luna out of our hearts. We have coldly turned away from her and we have shunned her, just like so many shunned Sleet, the mother to this fine colt. A colt raised by a shunned mare has pledged his entire life to see that Luna is restored to her rightful place of reverence.”
Hearing a gasp, Gosling turned his head and saw Luna standing in the door.
“I had a very different speech planned for tonight,” Quiet Knish said to the crowd. “A very different speech. But my own old heart was moved by this colt’s tender words. How could it not be? It is bad enough that we shun one of our own… but to shun one of our Goddesses…” The old pegasus’s ears fell down, no longer able to stand up, and he turned his filmy, faded eyes eyes upon Gosling. “I will die before the spring. This is my last winter. These tumours have made their way into my brain. I have never named my successor…”
The old pegasus strained to see Gosling through his cataracted eyes.
Fearful, Gosling took a step backwards, terrified of what was about to be said.
“Gosling, I ask that you become the Confessor for the Pegasus Pony Tribe.” Quiet Knish’s teeth banged together as his palsy made him seize for a moment, and then the tremours passed. “Sometimes, the young are wise in ways that the old are not.”
The great hall was filled with quite a few gasps and Gosling realised that there were quite a few members of the First Tribes here this evening. He could feel Luna’s eyes boring into him. Now sweating a great deal beneath his doublet, Gosling wished that his mother was here for all of this, and he wondered where she was. His tailhole was so clenched that it was causing his dock to cramp.
“Gosling…”
That was Luna’s voice and it sounded strained. Gosling felt his wingpits grow moist.
Now beside Gosling, Luna asked in a hushed whisper, “We beg of thee… accept. Please?”
Turning, Gosling looked Luna in the eye. She was pleading with him in the only way that she could. Luna was a proud pony, and begging in any form had to gall her. Extending a wing, Gosling touched it to the base of Luna’s neck, and then swept it upwards in a smooth, fluid motion, until his primaries touched her jaw. He watched as she trembled from his touch, and her nostrils flared.
“My princess… I could refuse you nothing,” Gosling said to Luna as he bowed his head. After drawing in a deep breath, he faced the old pegasus and nodded. “I accept.”
Quiet Knish blinked his almost sightless eyes and a painful strain could be heard in his voice. “Bring the flock back to Luna. Condemn shunning. This is all I ask of you.” The old pony winced and shook his head. “I can no longer stand… I must go and rest. At last, my work is done. Go with the alicorns, Gosling, and best of luck to you…”
Stunned, Gosling had a little bit of trouble getting back into a celebratory mood. Moreh Quiet Knish was gone, led off to some quiet place of rest by his assistants. He knew he was in trouble, as he was no Moreh. A quiet terror froze his heart—he wasn’t nearly educated enough to be a Moreh, much less the Confessor to the entire Pegasus Pony Tribe. There was entirely too much that he didn’t know about his own faith or his culture.
Luna was over the moon about it, she had a warm, sincere smile as she moved about, talking to other ponies and having a good time. As for himself, he was sitting down and trying to understand the mess that he had just gotten himself into.
“Son, you are in a heap of trouble,” Chesty said around his cigar, which dangled from the corner of his mouth.
“Well no duh,” Gosling whispered to the old beat up earth pony just a few barstools over, “I’m up to my wingpits in manticore shit.”
Leaning over the bar, Chesty chortled, causing thick ribbons of cigar smoke to come curling up from his nostrils. He banged his hoof on the counter, then barked at the bartender, “Give my friend here a Pink Lady to keep him company.”
“Can do,” the unicorn behind the bar replied.
Hunched over the bar, Gosling was thankful that nopony wanted to talk to him at the moment. For whatever reason, he was being given some space. Perhaps it was because Chesty snarled at anypony that got too close. Gosling didn’t know, and he didn’t care, either. When a pink drink was placed in front of him, Gosling gave a nod of thanks, but said nothing.
Grabbing the coupe glass by its stem with his fetlock, he took a drink and almost fell off of his barstool. The sound of Chesty’s smoky, raspy laughter filled his ears and Gosling struggled to swallow his drink. Chesty’s continued laughter sounded like logs burning in the fireplace, it was a rugged, masculine sound.
“The way I see it, Luna now owes you a solid.” Chesty inhaled some of his cigar and filled his lungs with smoke. His next words came out smoky. “There is no way she could refuse you anything now. But you be mindful how you take that, Son. Don’t be stupid and cross the line.”
Grimacing, Gosling gulped down the remainder of his drink as he was seized with an idea. He wiped his muzzle, and, filled with liquid courage, he slid down from his barstool. Wobbling on his hooves, he took a moment to steady himself, and then took off in his sexiest sashay, with his wings flared out and his tail flagged high. He wanted others to look at him.
The crowd parted before him, there were hoots and whistles as Gosling made his way to Luna, and when he made it to where she was, he pushed the pony in his way aside. Saying nothing, Gosling wrapped his wings around Luna’s neck, puckered up, and hauled her in. Aware that this was a filmed occasion, Gosling didn’t slip her the tongue, but he did do his best to give her a kiss that she would remember.
For several long seconds, Luna just stood there in shock as Gosling kneaded her lips with his own, but then she regained her senses, thawed out a bit, and returned the kiss. It was a warm, sincere kiss, intimate, passionate even, and Luna knew that it was just as much for others to see as it was to show affection.
When Gosling pulled away from Luna, the pair stared at one another, oblivious to the applause, the cheering, and the shouting all around him. Lowering her head down just a bit, Luna bumped her snoot into Gosling’s, blinked her eyes, and she very much wanted to say something. The words, however much desired, would not come, and so she stared into his eyes, silent.
Gosling pushed his muzzle against Luna’s, then caused her to shiver as he traveled up her jawline, his muzzle grazing her skin, until at last he pushed his lips up against her ear. In a whisper that only Luna could hear, Gosling expressed his feelings. “Best friends, you and me, together.”
Blushing, giggling like a school filly, Luna pulled away, but remained focused on Gosling’s eyes. She nodded, grateful for Gosling’s words, his kiss, and for everything he had done for her. She felt a soft touch against her side and knew that it was her sister. Unable to help herself, she continued to titter and could not look away from Gosling’s now waggling eyebrows.
“Hey, both of you,” Celestia said to her sister and Gosling, “they’re going to toast us…”
After drinking the Pink Lady, everything was fine. Everything was wonderful. Gosling wasn’t sloshed, no, he was socially lubricated. The pressure was gone and everybody was about to toast him. Also, for some reason, both Celestia and Luna were especially pretty. Though he wasn’t about to ruin his good standing with Luna, he still had his good judgment, he did feel the need to be adventurous with Celestia.
“You know, Princess,” Gosling whispered as Cadance addressed the crowd, “I’m gonna bury myself so deep in you that whomever pulls me out will be the next Princess of Equestria, just like in that old Grittish fairytale.”
With a face that showed no emotion and a perfect deadpan voice, Celestia replied, “Gosling, I am going to give your virginity an injury from which it will never recover. There will not be one shred of mercy; not one jot, not one tittle, you will not be spared, you saucy little cockerel.”
Smacking his lips, Gosling turned his head and gave Luna a very self satisfied smile. One eyebrow raised in a rather smug arch, and then he waggled said eyebrow at Luna, trying to goad her into a reaction. All he got for his troubles was for Luna to roll her eyes, snort, and look away. Of course, with Gosling being entirely too confident, Luna’s reaction only emboldened him, and he began to grin for the cameras.
Of course, Gosling had paid no attention to the toast, he was too busy thinking about what Celestia had said, and had missed Cadance’s rousing words. The crowd was cheering and stomping their hooves though, so it had to be good. In the midst of the celebration, Gosling’s mood shifted and he felt troubled. His mother wasn’t here and no matter where he looked, he could not find her.
A champagne flute was passed to him and he took it in his dextrous primaries. It smelled just like sweet and fruity grape juice, with a slight aspirin-like tang. Gosling wasn’t sure where champagne sat with his inner city palate. Still feeling a little troubled, but also feeling good about himself, he looked up at Celestia once more.
“I think… I think,” he began in a low whisper, “that I will pour some champagne into that little dimpled sunken place around your navel… and then lap it out. Slowly.”
Once more, Celestia’s face showed no reaction whatsoever as she held her champagne flute. Gosling didn’t care though, because his nose told him something different. There was a faint, sweet, somewhat musky scent that hinted at the beginnings of arousal.
“Once I’ve drank my fill, I’ll work my way downward and find other things to lick.” Then, without waiting for a prompt, Gosling emptied his champagne flute in a single gulp. “That’s enough alcohol for me. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” He felt his wings loosen against his sides, it was too warm in here. He lifted them away from his ribs, holding them about an inch away from his sides, hoping for a slight cooling breeze, but his doublet kept the breeze from reaching his skin.
“Auntie, you look a little pink… are you okay? Getting too warm?” Cadance’s concern was evident in her voice.
“I’m fine!” Celestia responded. “Just too warm. That’s it. Too warm. This lovely gown doesn’t breathe well.”
Suspicious, Cadance’s eyes narrowed and she studied Gosling for a moment, then Celestia, and then, with her eyes narrowing into slits, she focused upon Gosling once more. The worst possible thing that could happen happened. Cadance sniffed and her brows formed deep furrows as her nostrils flared wide.
“You know, there is absolutely no good reason to torture yourselves. Just go find a private spot and take care of that business.” Cadance angled her gaze upwards and looked up at her aunt. Then, her brows relaxed as she rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Say, Cadance, would you happen to know where my mom is?” Gosling asked, changing the subject before things became any more awkward. “I can’t find her anywhere.”
“She’s with Flurry.” Cadance’s expression softened into one of concern. “Flurry has a bad earache and a bit of a fever. Sleet is looking after her.”
“Oh.” Gosling felt his flirtatious mood vanish. He couldn’t go off looking for his mother because he was expected to put on a good show here. Remembering his lessons, he kept his face as neutral as possible and he set down his champagne flute upon the table he stood beside.
The night was still so young and full of promise.
“Hey, you know, Seville, you should ask Twilight for a dance.” Gosling nudged his friend as he spoke and nodded in Twilight’s direction. “Before you say anything, princesses are ponies too. I bet it feels good to have that camera rig off, eh?”
“I can’t.” Seville Orange gave a vigorous shake of his head. “I’m all sweaty and I’m an earth pony and she’s a prin—”
“Hey, you don’t say stuff like that around me, you hear?” Gosling’s whole demeanour changed and he bumped his snoot into Seville’s. In a low, somewhat angry whisper, Gosling let his friend have it. “Being an earth pony doesn’t exclude you from anything or hold you back from anything. You gotta stop saying that stuff ‘cause it gets on my nerves and makes me angry. I don’t abide by that crap and neither should you.”
“I’m sorry, Gosling, it’s just hard sometimes. I’m not sure that you understand—” Seville gulped when he saw his friend’s eyes narrow. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Damn right.” Gosling pulled his face away from Seville’s and shook his head. “Now, as punishment, you are going to ask Twilight for a dance.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Seville backed away from Gosling and his ears drooped.
“Let me guess… now that you’ve played the earth pony card, what are we left with? Scars? Being sweaty? Being stinky? So what, the train ride left you with a few scars, but they’re fading. Right now, everypony is sweating, because it is way too hot in here. As for being stinky, let’s face it, you’re always stinky because you eat too many damn oats and drink too much sugary soda.”
“Hey!” Seville’s ears perked up in a defensive manner. Before he could protest further, he found himself being herded along by Gosling towards an unsuspecting Twilight. Seville whimpered, but it didn’t do him any good, as Gosling was able to physically overpower him.
“Hey, yo, Twilight…” Gosling wrapped a wing around Seville’s neck to keep the earth pony from bolting. “My friend here, he very much wants to dance with you, but he’s skittish.”
“Oh… my… oh, well, I hadn’t planned on dancing and I really don’t know what to say.” Twilight cleared her throat and then looked around for a moment before continuing, “With all of the cameras around, I don’t know if that is a good idea. Ponies might get the wrong idea and the tabloids might start talking.”
“You see, Gosling, I tried to tell you this was a bad idea,” Seville said as Gosling kept him in a headlock.
Hating himself just a little bit, but understanding how the game was played, it was Gosling who played the tribe card. “I understand, Twilight. We wouldn’t want the press to run a smear piece about you dancing with an earth pony. It might cause a kerfuffle.” Squeezing his friend’s neck, Gosling began to pull Seville away.
“Now wait!” Twilight commanded.
Smirking, but only just a little, Gosling waited.
“It has nothing to do with that.” Twilight’s voice was low and worried. “It’s just that… well, right now, I don’t want any romantic entanglements and I—”
“It’s just a little friendship dancing,” Gosling interjected. “We’re not even talking about slow dancing on two legs and holding one another. Just a little shuffle on the dance floor between friends.”
“But I really don’t know Seville,” Twilight protested.
“So the Princess of Friendship is turning down an opportunity to get to know somepony and make friends with them?” Gosling laid it on thick—he tilted his head to one side and did his best to look both puzzled and maybe just a tiny bit offended, doing everything that Raven had shown him to do.
Feathers fluffing, Twilight’s cheeks turned a dark shade of eggplant. “NO!” She stomped one hoof as her horn flared and her wings flapped once against her sides as her tail swished. Then before he could protest, she grabbed Seville with her magic and dragged him off in the direction of the dance floor, ignoring his pleading protests. “We’re going to be friends!” Twilight said in a voice thick with authority that was loud enough to drown out Seville’s protests.
Feeling a little proud of himself, Gosling watched as the adorkable bookworm princess tried to dance with another pony. Neither she nor Seville had any idea of what to do and both appeared to be quite flustered as well as frustrated. All in all, he felt good about it, and it seemed that he wasn’t the only one. Beside him, he heard Shining Armor chuckling.
“That was well played.” Shining Armor’s whisper was a husky baritone and his chuckle continued as he spoke.
“I’m learning.” Gosling turned to look at Shining and give him a smile.
Standing together, both stallions turned to look at Celestia and Cadance, who danced together. Shining Armor was wearing a bright red doublet and both he and Gosling made for a dashing pair together. It made for quite a photo opportunity and there were many camera flashes from all around them.
“Shining Armor…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry to do this, but you need to cover for me. I gotta go.”
“Drink too much?” Shining Armor asked.
“No,” Gosling replied, “this is the most important night of my life, and I need to see my mother.”
“Oh.” Shining Armor blinked and looked surprised.
“I’ll be back, I promise I’ll only be gone for a little while.”
“I’ll tell anypony who asks that you went to go and cool off.” Shining Armor nodded and gave Gosling a nudge. “We’d be nothing without our mothers.”
“I know, right?”
“Luna… I was wondering where you went.” Standing in the doorway, Gosling just sort of stood there, out of sorts and not knowing what to do or say. He stared at his mother, who held Flurry Heart in a close, affectionate embrace. A part of him wished that he was Flurry-sized again. The little filly looked like she had been crying, her eyes were red, bloodshot, and her cheeks were matted from tears.
Stepping through the door, Gosling pulled it shut behind him.
The room was small, almost egg shaped, and had an upright piano at the wide end. The carpet on the floor was a very dark and dusky shade of purple-red, almost a wine colour. A tapestry representing the two sisters circling a merged sun and moon hung from the wall opposite of the door.
He cast his gaze upon Luna for a moment and felt embarrassed without knowing why. Perhaps it was because he had come to see his mother and hadn’t expected company. The mood in this room was very different than in the grand hall. It was quiet here, much, much cooler, and somber.
“I felt one of my turns coming on,” Luna said to Gosling in a low voice. “All of a sudden, I couldn’t stand the crowd and I just wanted to start screaming. Why can’t I just have a nice time? We are lonesome, and we are very confused.”
Hooves shuffling on the thick carpet, Gosling crossed the room to where his mother was. Lowering his head, he pressed his snoot against Flurry’s ear and felt heat. She squirmed beneath his touch and whimpered. He felt his mother touch the side of his face and then he looked into Sleet’s arctic blue eyes.
“She’ll be fine, Gosy,” Sleet whispered in a voice as soft and gentle as spring rain. “I think Luna needs you though.”
Nodding, Gosling turned about and then made his way to where Luna was reclining upon a fainting couch. Saying nothing, he flopped down upon the couch and shoved Luna over, making room for himself. Ignoring her grunts of protest about the invasion of her space, Gosling made himself comfortable and settled in. Luna had to fold two legs to get them out of the way and ended up tossing both of her left legs over Gosling, using him as a pillow.
“It’s not fair to you or Celestia… We… I am held hostage by these mood swings of mine—”
“Hush, Luna.”
“Don’t you hush me,” Luna hissed.
“If it makes you feel better you can be defensive if you like.” Gosling rested his head upon the large overstuffed cushion at the end of the fainting couch. There was no response from Luna, but he did feel her snuggle up a little closer to his back. “Ma, it’s a real shame you are missing the party. It’s quite a shindig.”
Lifting her head, Sleet kept her voice down so she wouldn’t hurt Flurry’s ears. “I’m sure it is, Gosling, I’m sure it is. I was the only one that Flurry would be quiet for and Cadance asked me to look after her.”
“I wanted to be at the party.” Luna’s voice was a soft whine that few ponies ever heard. “I cannot bear how I am sometimes. I wish I was like my sister… she is so fearless before crowds… she is the object of their adoration… their affection… and I am always the one left in shadow.” She shook her head. “In truth, I cannot bear to be in the spotlight, but I want to be there so badly. When I am forced to retreat, I feel so lonesome and ashamed.”
“It’s not so bad.” Gosling let out a huff and wished that he could remove his doublet, as he was still too warm. “When I am with Celestia, I have to share her with the crowd and I kind of hate that. But with you, right now, in this right room right now, I get to have you all to myself.”
Eyes narrowing, Luna’s lips pressed into a straight line. Her body shifted and the fine fabric of her gown made crinkly sounds. Saying nothing at all, she wrapped both of her forelegs around Gosling’s neck, slipping one foreleg beneath him, and then she pulled him close.
“And when Celestia is done giving the crowd what they want, she will return to us and we can all be together,” Gosling said as Luna’s head came to rest upon his neck. “So if you have one of your turns, just give me a chance to make a graceful exit, if I can of course, and we’ll go and wait it out together.”
Smiling, Sleet gave Flurry a gentle snuggle-squeeze and she gazed at her son.
“Gosling… this isn’t fair to you or my sister… me taking you away from her or the crowd that so adores you.” Luna’s words were muffled, as she spoke her jaw pressed into Gosling’s neck. “As much as it pains me, I am used to being alone. You should go and be with her and leave me to my darkness.”
“Hush, Luna.”
“Stop hushing me,” Luna grumbled.
“This is the life I have chosen,” Gosling said to Luna in an affectionate whisper. “I am a little pale shadow… a penumbra… a patch of darkness between the Sun and the Moon. I have chosen to wax and wane between the two of you. I stand in her light and tread in your darkness. For now, I have had enough of the light, and I have chosen to retreat into the darkness, as any good shadow does.”
