It wasn’t long after Equestria had appeared on Earth that ponies discovered human technology. In fact, their first was a perfect example of what humans tended to use their collective smarts for, courtesy of a trigger-happy marine with an unfortunate phobia. Friendlier items of interest quickly followed.

Astute readers might remember a certain movie poster.

Though the series had died peacefully in its metaphorical sleep years before, after a finale that would inspire authors as if it were penned by the Bard himself, the fandom was still going strong. They too, after all, were particularly susceptible to inspiration. Therefore, when the dust (both metaphorical and literal) of their appearance had settled, it was almost unavoidable that the Equestrians would encounter their own merchandise.

“Mister Hartnell,” Princess Celestia gently called out as she sat in the captain’s office, her gaze fixed at a small figurine on the human’s impressive mahogany desk.

“What is it, your highness?”

“It’s this, mister Hartnell. How is it you have an image of my dear Twilight when we had just met?”

The captain stood there, shocked into silence as realization dawned on him. He recalled when his daughter, dear sweet Susan, had given him the little toy figurine to “counter the stuffiness of his workplace a little,” as she explained it. Thinking back, he remembered the oddly popular TV show that had ended a few years after he acquired the little violet unicorn.

It wasn’t a unicorn, but Captain Hartnell found he couldn’t recall the more fitting term. “Unicorn” would do. If he accidentally insulted somepony, he’d handle it at that time. There was no need to worry about semantics yet.

“That’s a very interesting question, your highness,” the captain started. “Now, normally when one is given a reply like that it actually means the speaker doesn’t know the answer at all, but I do have something of an answer.”

“I’m listening,” Princess Celestia acknowledged without even a trace of anger in her voice.

“Some years back, there was this really popular television show – the fourth go at it, in fact – about, well, ponies.”

Celestia raised a curious eyebrow, the rest of her face completely still.

“It had a toy line, as it goes with popular shows. Surely you’ve seen that before?”

“I have,” Celestia nodded with a faint smile as she recalled an old Equestrian play that she particularly liked, and the plush toy based on its lead character that a little filly had given her one day. “Please, continue.”

“I’m not sure, I’d have to look it up, but I believe there was a Princess Celestia in the series too,” the captain obligingly continued, a single bead of sweat on his brow as he pondered the implications to the best of his knowledge. He found said knowledge lacking – there was something about a paradox of sorts but he couldn’t recall. It seemed more up Mister Chekov’s alley to him.

“Was there now?” Celestia said, her smile steadily growing.

“I think so. Let me just…”

The captain reached into one of the desk’s drawers and retrieved a tablet computer. He opened the browser and quickly found what he was looking for.

“Here we go. ‘My Little Pony Friendship is Magic’, a children’s television series that ran from 2010 to 202X, unexpectedly popular with older viewers. Would you like to see for yourself, Princess?”

Celestia nodded and magically grasped the device. “It says here you can watch full episodes. Do I dare try?”

Captain Hartnell shrugged. “I don’t know what to expect, your highness.”

“Me neither, my dear captain,” Celestia agreed as she applied a measured amount of force to a particular spot on the screen. The image of the webpage was quickly replaced by a pure black, marred only by a little spinning icon dead center. Moments later, the music started and a familiar book appeared on the screen.

“Once upon a time,” the voice-over narrated, “in the magical land of Equestria...”

“Oh that looks nice. It reminds me of a tapestry in the castle,” Celestia remarked. “Except that one isn’t animated.”

When the Princess’s animated counterpart appeared, standing on a cloud with her sister on the other side, Celestia laughed. “Oh, oh wow. Pink? My mane isn’t pink. Where’d they get that idea?”

“I haven’t a clue, Princess,” the captain shrugged. Celestia hummed and skipped ahead a bit. After waiting on the spinner some more, she found another error. “Aha!”

“What?”

“The letters are wrong.”

“Your highness?”

“Twilight sent me a letter back then, and the phrasing is entirely different. Hers was a lot more informal than this… show depicts. So was my reply. Just about the only thing that matches, to the best of my recollection, is the ‘make some friends’ at the end. I particularly liked that part.”

Captain Hartnell smiled and nodded. “I believe there’s a name for this sort of thing. Damned if I can recall, though… ‘Reciprocal fiction’? No… something with an R though.”

With a gasp, the captain remembered a very important thing. “Your highness?”

“Yes, captain?”

“The show was very popular and there are many fan-created works, made even to this day.”

“Isn’t that nice,” Celestia smiled. It wasn’t even a question.

“Perhaps, but I was just thinking…”

“No really, it’s all good,” Celestia insisted. “It’s always nice to see creative minds at work and I’m sure the results are of a reasonable quality. And logically speaking, these fan works aren’t about me or my little ponies, but these fictional… whatever you want to call them.”

Hartnell swallowed, perfectly aware of the flipside of that particular coin.

“Is something the matter, captain?”

“Some of these works are a little… ahem…”

Celestia shrugged, sighed, and faintly smiled as she closed the video. “That much was to be expected of any popular work, no?”

“I guess?”

“I can’t speak for my little ponies, but I for one am perfectly comfortable with the idea of somepony… some human, perhaps… well, clopping off to a saucy image of myself. That’s what you get when you place your likeness in the public domain. And considering the human works don’t technically depict me…”

“Legal Celestia porn? That’s a thing that exists, and you’re okay with it?”

Celestia nodded and smiled a little wider. “Would you like to see some?”

Hartnell would’ve answered no, but merely choked in surprise.

“Oh, a picture archive,” he heard Celestia say to herself. “More pink mane… what is it with the pink mane?”

Celestia dropped the tablet from her magic onto the sturdy desk and stood there with a somewhat shocked expression.

“What is it?”

“…Eggs don’t go in there.”

Author's Note

"Recursive Canon" comes pretty close, Cap'n.