Cleïs of Lesbos

by Masterweaver

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Other, Drama, Sex
Length: 3888

In the time of the 45th Olympiad, a strange meeting changes many lives.

Caught in a stormwind and finding herself lost
A pony is found by a strange friendly monster
Who takes her into her own household, and so
reveals herself.

Written for FTP12. Coverart by Aliste Rosenheim.

Published 2016-07-11 02:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-11 02:20:01 UTC

θυγατέρα του καταιγίδες

The clouds above growled, gray forms broiling to black as Helios rode his chariot o'r the western horizon; Sappho gathered her himation around herself, her sandals clacking against the moist cobblestones as she ran through the thickening sheets of rain. What tragedy had struck the Hyades, she knew not, but there were times she wished that the gods were not so callous as they were; had the nymphs received any form of comfort, perhaps they would not be as weepy as they were now! Alas, the party had run long, and now she had to suffer through this as she made her way back home.

A loud roar echoed from the sky, followed by... Sappho stopped, staring in disbelief. This was no mere thunderbolt that spread above her; it seemed that in the midst of the Hyades' lamentations, Iris herself had drunkenly twirled in and dropped flat, her impact spreading in colorful ring across the sky. And as she stared, she noted something falling from the center, some token perhaps? Nay, it flailed as it drew closer.

Sappho's eyes traced it through the thick rain, even as she rose her himation and ran after it. Whatever it was, it had come from the realm of the gods; only fools ignored such things, whether blessed or cursed. So it was that she was present when at last a screaming blur of blue slammed into the ground, skidding against the cobblestones and slamming into a well. The aristocrat could not help but wince at the sound of skull against stone, yet even that was not enough to stop her approach, only slow it to a cautious few steps at a time.

She rose an eyebrow as the creature groaned, half-formed words of a foreign tongue flowing from its lips. As Sappho stepped closer, she noted the creature's odd proportions--a large head and thick legs, though set over the frame of a messenger-horse diminutive in size. Perhaps, then, this was a child, well-exercised yet still young enough to need watching. Her eyes widened at the colorful locks that formed the creature's mane and tail, impossibly spread in their variety, widened further as what looked to be a wing twitched from the creature's side, and widened further still when she saw the image of a thunderbolt emblazoned on its flank.

Sappho looked around, noting the doors shut and few candles in the houses around her. It was doubtful any would wake soon... and to leave any child, much less one from the gods, in this horrible weather twould be the height of cruelty. She looked up at the fading ring of color, and with a small sigh stepped forward to gather the creature up in her arms. "If nothing else," she grumbled, "Larichus will be fond of having a youth in the home, even one of divine blood. Though I may have to keep you from Erigyius..."

Charaxus looked upon the creature lying on the kline, awe on his face. "Such a creature I've naught seen nor heard of in all my studies... save perhaps pegasus, yet he is of purest white where this has colors of a rain-cleared sky."

"There is another difference," Sappho mentioned, walking by him and putting a hydria next to the kline's headboard. "Pegasus is a stallion. This creature appears to be a mare."

"Pheh. You would check that, wouldn't you."

"And what of it? If we are to tend to our guest, we must know of any ailments that could befall her." Sappho gave her brother a sardonic smile as she wet a cloth, pressing it against the scrapes on the creature's head. "Or are you yet scared of the mysteries of women?"

"Women, no. You, however, dabble in so much strange thought that I wonder whether you are not truly mad on occasion." Charaxus returned her grin. "Then again, the line between artistry and madness is oft invisible, if yet it exists at all."

"And you wonder why I ne'er take you to the poetry gatherings," Sappho snorted, though a touch of amusement played on her features.

Charaxus held his hands out in silent apology. Still, he turned to the creature again. "How is it such a being exists?"

"It is well known that the gods will bed anything," Sappho replied dismissively, her attention on the sounds of the murmuring mare. "And while I find little attractive in horsekind myself, I do suspect there is one particular aspect of Pegasus that Iris would find of interest." She ran a hand through the colorful mane in front of her. "What I find myself questioning is how her daughter came to rest here?"

"Perhaps Iris intended to hide her away so her husband did not discover her dalliance?"

"Somehow, I doubt that Zephyrus would care, or that Iris would be concerned of his wrath." Sappho rested her damp cloth on the edge of the hydria. "There was that strange... rainbow ring. Perchance Iris slipped in a drunken stupor and dropped her daughter."

Charaxus stroked his chin. "Whatever the cause, she is here. I take it you intend to tend to her while she remains?"

"A daughter of the gods? But of course I do. It would be foolhardy to earn their ire by refusing her." The woman considered the blue creature, who had at last fallen to slumber. "Though I wonder, what to call her."

"She looks quite like a messenger horse, with the potential for speed in great bursts," Charaxus mused. "Perhaps... Rainbow Dash?"

"Nay, that is a name for a pet! And quite a shallow one at that." Sappho shook her head dismissively. "This is a child of the gods. I would not let Clio write such silly words... though, this is a historic occasion," she contemplated. "I have it!"

"What?"

"Cleïs. After the muse." Sappho brushed herself off. "No doubt she will ensure that our guest's name reverberates through the histories she writes."

Charaxus nodded contemplatively. "Cleïs. As fine a name as any."

"And far finer then any you would have."

"Peace, sister mine. Or would you have me bring Erigyius into this?"

Sappho shuddered. "Let us not think of that!"

Cleïs had woken soon the next morn, and though she first seemed skittish and wary Sappho found it easy to calm her with an offering of tagenites for early meal. The woman found it strange that the god-child did not speak greek, instead babbling in her own mad tongue, but she reasoned that her impact against the well had addled her senses.

"Sister mine! Charaxus hath told me we play host to a child of the gods!" A man so young as to perhaps still be confused as a boy came rushing into the room. "Is it true?"

"Look for yourself!" Sappho gestured toward the creature that poked curiously at various forms of pottery around the room. "There she stands, Larichus."

"By Athena's locks," the young man breathed, stepping closer to the blue winged mare. She noticed him and seemed, for a moment to frown, before barking querulously at Sappho in her mad tongue.

"This is Larichus, youngest of my three brothers," the woman explained. "Be careful now, Cleïs is still nervous around us."

The mare gave the boy a wary look, but made no move to stop his approach. Larichus stepped ever closer, reaching out a hand... and running it through her spectral mane. "This... this is incredible. I scarce believe the Moirai would bless us so, yet here she is!"

Sappho chuckled as Cleïs grew bolder, pushing herself into the young man's hands. She had hoped the two would bond, and here she saw them growing friendlier still. After Pittacus had routed the Athenians' attack, the city was tense and wary; it warmed her heart to see her brother once again in good cheer.

And then, as though to laugh at her happiness, Erigyius emerged from his hall. "What wonder do I see before me?!"

Sappho sighed. "Hello, brother mine. This is--"

"Nay, let me derive with my own eyes the truth of things!" With the loud clang of braceings, he hobbled over to Cleïs and Larichus. "Ah, form like that of horse, yet blessed with wings of the kestral, and yet with proportions found only in human's youth! The color of skies and rainbows, yes, and the mark of the thunderbolt..." He flicked aside the mare's tail, earning an embarrassed shout as she glared at him. "Ah, and tis female, but of course. I have it! This must be a daughter of Pegasus and Iris! That, or a visitor from a realm beyond imagining where many of her kind doth frolic, yet what purpose would that be?"

His sister crossed her arms. "Your need to investigate oft blinds you to the obvious, brother."

"Ah, but the obvious oft covers great secrets!"

"You are not going to vivesect Cleïs."

Erigyius laughed. "What fool do you take me for, sister mine? A child of the gods is to be respected. I would wait till she fell in glorious battle, and only then would I explore her inner workings."

Larichus gave him a worried look. "You aren't going to send her to battle, are you?"

"No chimera threatens us this day," Charaxus replied, stepping in with sheaves of paper. "So Cleïs shall remain unmolested for the moment." He turned to Sappho. "I have taken the liberty of informing the slaves of our new guest. Have you any objection?"

"Nay, I would hath seen to it at some point myself." Sappho nodded her thanks. "To hide such blessing is madness. I've no doubt that our lives shall soon become interesting."

"What," said Sappho.

Pittacus simply held out his hands. "If there was any other way, I would take it. Your poetry is worth respect, Sappho, and your family did support my rise to power. Before, I was content to let you remain in contact with Alcaeus--you know that well enough. Yet now, with the arrival of Cleïs--"

"What of her?" Sappho demanded, rising to her feet. "She is a guest of my--of my brother's house!"

Charaxus gripped her shoulder. "Peace, sister mine. I doubt Pittacus wishes harm to Cleïs."

"Indeed. Had I my way, she would be fed the most decadent of fruits." Pittacus sighed, slumping onto his stool. "Alas, I am a ruler, and I must hear the whispers of those I rule. Cleïs is being bandied about as a symbol among the discontent; they claim she is here to overthrow me, to place your family in rule."

"You know, of course, that we have no lust for your position," Charaxus replied.

"Far from it," Erigyius laughed. "To be bothered by the noble families, jockeying for favors? Bah. Leave me with my works, I say."

"Indeed. That is why I ask you to sail to the mainland."

Sappho sat down. "Leave Mytilene? Leave Lesbos?" She shook her head. "Long have we lived here, and we have no quarrel with you. Can we not simply decree our support?"

"If only fools were so easily swayed. No, I must present a firm, unbroken face to those about me." Pittacus ran fingers through his beard. "I shall invite your family, and Cleïs, over for a meal. Then we shall release the announcement that you seek her destiny across the sea."

"Banishment in all but name," Sappho grumbled. "First, you set laws of the punishment of drinking, then allow your son's death to go unpunished... next you'll talk of freeing slaves."

"I am not so foolhardy."

"Sappho need not go," Charaxus offered. "All that is needed is one of us to take Cleïs across the sea, in order to 'seek her fate.' Can not one of us carry that burden?"

Erigyius scoffed. "Be reasonable, brother mine. I am lame, Larichus is young, and you are head of the house. Furthermore, it is Sappho who found Cleïs, and her whom Cleïs trusts. There is no other for the task."

"I do not like it, but I see it as the only way to keep the city whole." Pittacus rose, holding out a hand to Sappho. "Please. Help me in this. I will give you what coin you need, and keep your reputation whole while you are away."

With a sigh, the woman took his hand and stood. "It irks me that you speak truth, yet I find I cannot object." She shrugged, releasing his grip. "Perhaps I shall seek out the truth of Cleïs's fate in truth."

"Perhaps. Whatever you do, do it well." Pittacus nodded. "Now then, shall we make arrangements?"

Cleïs glided back toward the boat, pointing at the coastline in the distance. "Sicily?"

Saphho nodded, standing. "Yes. Sicily. That is where we are headed." She patted the mare's head. "Your greek is improving quite nicely."

Cleïs flipped her mane, smirking at the praise. "Yes. I awe much."

"Oh, quite so. Come along then," Sappho said, walking toward the boarding ramp as the boat sailed into port. "I do hope the local oracle will have some hint toward our goal."

"Begpardon, milady." The ferryman grinned at her. "If you have a moment to spare, perchance we should carry ourselves to a nearby forum?" He knotted the rope round the bow of his ship, not so subtly letting thick arms flex. "Twould be a chance for two souls to learn more of each other."

"Ah, noble Phaon, would that I could, but Kerkylas might find such courting to be suspicious."

The ferryman tilted his head. "Kerkylas?"

"Indeed, Kerkylas of Andros. A boon companion for many years. He may have girth round his middle, but he is firm in his resolve and long in his reach. Truly, I am lucky to have found him."

"I see. Well." With a shrug, the ferryman stood aside. "I hope Lachesis grants you a long time together. Enjoy your stay."

Sappho nodded as she passed him. "I shall, thank you." Keeping herself from smiling, she walked down the dock.

Cleïs glided up to her, letting her hooves hit the wooden boards. "Who Kerkylas?"

"Hmm?"

"You say Kerkylas.... hus-band?" The mare tilted her head.

"Oh. No, not really." With a sly glance over her shoulder, Sappho slipped a knobed rod as long as her forearm out of her himation. "This is Kerkylas." She grinned. "Quite useful, behind closed doors."

For a moment, Cleïs looked lost. Then her eyes widened. "Oh! Is... nice-stick!"

Sappho laughed. "Verily! A nice stick, nicer than most, and truly among the kindest of sticks I have ever had the pleasure of meeting!"

Cleïs chuckled, shaking her head. "You... I no words."

"Ah, well, such is the way of things." Sappho returned the rod to its hidden place. "Now, though, we have to find the oracle. Hopefully they'll have some way of contacting Olympus...."

"Quick, Sappho! Oracle said this it!"

The woman panted, clambering up the rocks wearily as Cleïs hovered about. "Hold yourself, my friend! I don't have, have your energy!"

"Oh?" Cleïs fluttered around her head with a wicked grin. "What Sappho sphinx?"

"That," Sappho grunted, "was entirely different. She was a lonely soul, and quite beautiful at that. Her companionship was something worth seeking, and I hope giving her a new love of words will help her in the future. This, this climbing!" She heaved herself up. "Only the mad would seek this of their free will! It is exertion without reward, practical or otherwise, save that we grow closer to our destination!"

"You... what word... Whine!" Cleïs fluttered about her. "You whine much!"

"And you can fly. Perhaps if you struggled like I did, you would understand."

Cleïs snorted her horsey snort, before wrapping her forelegs around Sappho's chest. "I take you."

"What? I don't--ZEUS'S SHAGGY SACK!" Sappho screeched as she was pulled from the mountain side, held aloft only by Cleïs's grip. She gripped the blue limbs tightly, her eyes wide as the rocks sped by her. "This--this isn't how Pegasus carried Bellerophon!" she shrieked, trying regain some control of the situation.

"Whine, whine, whine," Cleïs grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Sappho, you need... ugh. No words." She rubbed her muzzle lightly against Sappho's hair. "I no lose you."

Sappho could only squeak as they ascended, higher and higher up the mountain, till at last she saw a small cliff and cavern came into few. No sooner did she see it than did Cleïs divert her path, gliding toward the hole in the rock and carefully placing Sappho down. She took a moment to compose herself, and in that moment the mare rushed ahead.

"Cleïs! Please, wait for me!"

Her sandals clipped against the stone as she rushed in after her, spiders fleeing from her footsteps as she caught up to the sky-colored mare. "Please, Cleïs, there is no reason to leave me like that!"

"I no lose," Cleïs replied flippantly. "You there. Come!"

They continued to trot deeper into the cave where, to Saphho's surprise, a series of torches lit a simple path. She shook her head--of course there would be torches. After all, at the end of this tunnel, if the oracle was to believed, were..."

She gasped as they turned a final corner. "...the Moirai..."

Three elderly woman sat round a table. One pulled thread from a long rod, spinning it to a length dictated by the second, where the third would cut it and let it fall onto the table itself. A closer look, and Sappho found they were staring at an elaborate tapestry that rested atop it; every thread that fell writhed its way in, changing the image and color as it went.

"So," said the spinner without looking up, "you're here."

"We knew she was coming," the measurer pointed out.

"Still, she's early," the cutter countered. "Celestia isn't going to be here for another five minutes."

"I... do apologize if I have brought trouble to your doorstep," Sappho managed. "Only, you see..." She gestured to Cleïs, who seemed confused but optimistic. "I wished to return my friend to Olympus. And the oracle--"

"Yes, we know. We were watching." The spinner gestured at the table. "Your actions with the sphinx were quite interesting."

Sappho cleared her throat. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you know of that."

"No. You really shouldn't. But you are quite the surprising lady." The measurer glanced up. "Well, for the time."

"Don't," the cutter warned. "Legacy is for those that come after."

Cleïs cleared her throat. "You said.... Celestia?"

"Yes." The cutter held up her hand as Cleïs opened her mouth. "No, we don't speak your tongue, though we understand it."

"It's quite a bit more complicated than that," the spinner pointed out.

"It's nothing she needs to know," the measurer replied.

Sappho tapped her fingers together. "So... will you return Cleïs to Olympus?"

"Cleïs is not from Olympus."

The cutter slammed her blades down, glaring at the spinner. "Clotho!"

"Atropos, she's going to find out anyway." The spinner shrugged.

"Ladies," the measurer deadpanned, "we do have a job."

Atropos sighed, taking her blades again. "My apologies, Lachesis, but she is so... infuriating, sometimes!"

"Not from Olympus?" Sappho asked. "But... but then--"

"We have never spun her thread," Lachesis explained. "Never measured, never cut. She is not of this world, mortal or divine." She nodded to Cleïs. "Fortunately for you, Twilight Sparkle is verse in sensing the paths of worlds. Your guide home should be arriving... now."

As if on cue, the air rippled and warped. Before Sappho's shocked eyes emerged what well could be pegasus himself, had pegasus been born daughter and not son. There were distinctions, of course--the rippling mane, the golden adornments, and the single long horn sprouting from the forehead. Cleïs, at least, seemed to recognize this figure and began babbling in her mad tongue; the figure replied, serenely, in words that Sappho could not understand.

Then Cleïs turned to her, pushing her toward the new figure. Sappho composed herself quickly, bowing before... well, whatever this being was. "I greet you, horse-creature, and hope to find friendship with you and yours."

"Feh," Atropos muttered. "That's not likely to happen."

Sappho glanced up. "What?"

"Weren't you listening, girl? They aren't part of this tapestry." The cutter sniped a thread particularly viciously. "Honestly, their own world is so poorly made that souls fall in and out in ridiculous numbers. More than thirty thousand times..."

"What Atropos means is, unless somebody from their world intervenes...." Clotho shrugged. "Well, this will be the last you see of Cleïs."

Sappho blinked. Then she turned to the white mare, who had a sympathetic look on her face. "I know we have but met, yet if it would not be to much a burden, I ask a boon of you: let me find my way to your world, so Cleïs and I will not forever be parted."

After a moment, the mare turned to the three old women, asking something in her tongue. Lachesis brushed her chin. "Hmm. That is an offer. Sisters mine?"

"I have no objection," Clotho stated.

"I doubt we could stop her," Atropos grumbled.

"Very well. A bargain, then!" The measurer wove her hands over the tapestry. "Now then, time for you to go."

With a rippling of air, Cleïs and her companion vanished. Sappho blinked, staring at the place they had stood.

"What... just happened?"

"A deal was struck." Atropos snorted. "We are not done with you yet, but time has no meaning between worlds. Once your place in the tapestry stills, you will visit Cleïs on her home soil."

Sappho blinked. "So... Cleïs lives in the asphodel meadows?"

Clotho snorted. "Something like that."

"...I am a weaver of words myself," Sappho pointed out. "I know twists of phrase."

"Good Gaia, girl!" Atropos snapped. "We're the Moirai! You can't expect us to tell you everything!"

"You still have a long life to live," Lachesis interjected. "Not here, though. You will return to Mylantine, long before you pass. But to do that, you must leave."

Sappho nodded. Then she narrowed her eyes. "How am I to descend this mountain."

"Turn around," Clotho suggested.

The woman did so with some trepidation. Before her, she saw what looked to be a tiny red cart, with a sewn representation of a tiger resting within. "What--?"

"No," Atropos interjected firmly. "No anachronisms, Clothos. Chronos will be angered with us as is."

"Fine," Clothos replied petulantly. "I suppose we could summon Pegasus... twould be appropriate, after all."

Saphho opened her eyes to a dark and stormy night.

Truly, she was confused, as last she recalled she was resting on her kline, staring at her withered hands as they trembled. Yet now, she felt... refreshed. Invigorated. And... in front of her were not hands, but strange rounded appendages...

She blinked, moving them about. Something about them seemed familiar.

Then she remembered.

"Cleïs!"

With some effort she pushed herself up to her new legs--all four of them, though that mattered little she supposed. Well, it would matter, in some way, but...

A loud explosion caught her attention, and with some amazement she saw, once again, a ring of rainbow spreading across the sky. And as a figure she had seen long ago approached, she could not help but laugh in joy.

Sappho of Lesbos had, at last, found her friend once more.