Chapters Journal entry of Mark Robertson
5am, woke up abruptly this morning. I had to shower and change per qui nocturno pollutus in somno. Worse still, I remembered what I was dreaming about. Once I was clean, I prayed.
Letter to Princess Celestia from Mark Robertson
Dear Princess Celestia,
When I first arrived in your kingdom, you very kindly told me to feel free to write to you whenever I wished, especially if I had any concerns. It has been two years, 7 months and 2 ½ weeks since then, and I am glad to say that I have seldom had cause to trouble you with anything, though I have of course written to you regarding my progress in settling in. As you know, it has been remarkably easy – indeed far easier than I would ever have imagined.
Everypony has been warm and friendly (with the rare exception) and as accommodating as possible with my needs, be it my need for taller furniture and doorways all the way to getting me meat, which I know is a tough ask for many ponies. My job keeps me busy, and has turned what was a hobby of mine into a comfortable source of income. I am genuinely surprised that my calligraphy is so popular, even though it lacks the perfection of a magically controlled pen.
Anyway, the reason I am writing to you now is that I am greatly troubled lately. As I've said, almost everypony I've met has been very kind, and I've made many friends. The trouble is, well there's a mare I know, and well - I think I love her. The realisation has been a while coming and it finally hit me in the early hours of this morning.
I completely unsure of how to feel, much less what to do. On the one hand, in terms of her personality she's just the sort of woman I would have loved to be with back in my world. On the other hand there is still a part of my mind that says “She's a pony, a dumb animal!”. And yet I find myself thinking about her in all the ways I would a woman of my own species.
I'm sure you remember the legal & moral objections to intimate relations outside of marriage for the purpose of procreation that I mentioned in some of our first talks? I admit that I was never terribly religious before arriving, but in a strange new world I found comfort in the prayers and in the hope that God was real and might yet hear me. Besides which, I was raised in the faith and a lifetime of learning is not easily overturned.
I am hoping that you might spare me some of your wisdom and offer me some advice about how best to proceed.
Yours faithfully,
Mark Robertson
Letter to Mark Robertson from Princess Celestia
My dear Mark,
I am glad that you have settled in well, I was always worried that you might face certain difficulties. The news that you are doing well with your business reached me some time ago, and it is good to hear that you are happy in your work. I have seen some of it and in my humble opinion it is fine work, showing a mastery of the materials and with a quality not found elsewhere. You should be proud of it.
As to the matter of what to do about this mare that you love, I say, just talk to her. I hope you will forgive me for saying so, but I think that you believed that nopony would ever want to get romantically involved with you, and perhaps still do. Perhaps at first you were glad of this, but I sense now that you have come to desire companionship. You would be surprised at just how many ponies are open to a cross-species relationship, give her a try. You don't have to make a grand gesture, just ease into it. Spend more time with her, get to know her better, and then – when you're ready, let her know your feelings. The running of the leaves is coming up, why don't you suggest that you run together?
If there is anything else I can help with, please do let me know.
Yours sincerely,
Celestia
A recollection of Mark Robertson
I remember when I first met her like it was just yesterday, I had been open for most of the morning, and having done all the urgent jobs I was just doing some busywork before taking my lunch break.
I was just reading over some invoices, when the bell above my door rang and shut with a smart “click”.
Looking up, I saw a pegasus mare with slate grey fur and pale blue eyes under a short messy mane that was silver-grey and shone like silk.
'Hi, I'm from Cloudsdale weather factory, I'm here to pick up the diplomas. Are they ready yet?' she asked
'Ah, you're early, I didn't expect you until this afternoon.' I replied, glancing over at the stack of diplomas ready to be presented to the next class of qualified weather technicians who would graduate the following Saturday
'The unicorn chap who does the anti-counterfeiting spell just left, it will be another half-hour before the spell takes effect.'
The anti-counterfeiting spell was to prevent the name being changed or the text being copied to prevent any fraud. It took a while to “fix” during which the document had to remain absolutely still.
'Oh I see, well then I'll just wander around a bit.'
'All right then, sorry to have disappointed you.'
'Hay, it's no bother.' she answered, wandering off to look at the ready made works on display
Since the conversation was seemingly over, I returned to my invoices.
After a few moments, she broke the silence
'Wow, this is some seriously nice work!'
'Huh?' I responded, looking up from my desk
'This poem, it's really beautiful.' she said, indicating a copy of "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" hanging on the far wall
'Oh, that? Thanks. It's one of the few poems I happened to remember, so I wrote it down and put it up for sale.'
'You made it?'
'Yes, I make all these. I mostly do bespoke work, but I also do pre-made stuff as well. Poems, inspirational quotes, that sort of thing.'
'So you're like me, an artisan!' she enthused
'An artisan?' I queried
'Well, I make snowflakes, my speciality is the “big events” like if we have snow for Hearths Warming. Then the snowflakes have to be especially beautiful.' she said proudly
'So you make special snowflakes?'
'I sure do!' she answered, and showed me her cutie mark
It was a trio of stark white, picture perfect snowflakes
'I guess that means that you have a name to match your talent then?' I asked
'You bet! My name is Winter Wonder!'
On a sudden wild inspiration, I took a scrap of thick, cream coloured paper, ran it through the guillotine to straighten the edges and wheeled my chair over to my workstation
'Here, come and watch me at work, see what you think.'
She trotted over, her face full of curiosity.
I dipped my pen into a pot of silver ink and began writing her name out in fine cursive. As I worked, I was aware of the awed expression on her face. I edged the letters in stark black & added an embellishment of a golden snowflake in each corner.
'There!' I said when I was done
'Oh my gosh! I can't believe you whipped that up just now! You're a real master!'
I recall that my face warmed, and I hastily changed the subject.
'Oh, hey, the diplomas will be ready now.' I said, pointing at the clock
'Right, then I'd best be off!' she replied
I got up, put them in a protective envelope and brought them over to her
'Do you mind?' she asked, pointing her flank at me.
She was asking me to put them into her saddlebag for her.
'No, not at all!'
I stowed them securely and then I remembered
'Ah, don't forget your name!'
I quickly jotted down my details at the very bottom, and when I was satisfied that the ink had dried, I put it in her saddlebag as well.
'Well, it's been a real pleasure meeting you Winter Wonder, good luck!'
'Thanks, likewise.'
And with that, she left.
Newspaper cutting from the Canterlot Chronicle, Sunday special 1st of March (Earth reckoning) my first year in Equestria
Many of our readers will recall the excitement of the appearance of a Mr Mark Robertson under mysterious circumstances only recently. After much speculation and debate, it was decided that he could – indeed must stay – as there was no way to return him to where he came from.
It is now reported that he has opened a studio, on the outskirts of Canterlot in which he may produce and sell his calligraphy, that being a hobby of his before arriving to our world. We were fortunate to secure an exclusive interview.
Greetings to my regular readers, Scratchy Quill, your Mare on the minute here with another hot scoop! Today I am at the business of Canterlot's most interesting citizen, the Human, Mark Robertson. I was fortunate enough to get the assignment to interview the man himself, and I have to say I am glad I did. It is a modest two storey shop with a small area in front in which he displays his work for sale, and directly behind the counter is a larger work area, stocked with paper, cardboard and a dizzying array of inks, pens and brushes as well as other tools of the trade. The shop is pleasantly furnished and the hardwood floor is polished to a mirror sheen. We make small talk over over tea and biscuits and it is with some reluctance that I begin my questioning.
Q. First question; and one I'm sure is most pressing. How are you settling in to life here in Equestria?
Q. So it's fair to say you still miss your world? Can you tell us a bit about it?
Q. Hmm, so what are the people who would make such things like?
Q. So are you saying that your world isn't a very nice place?
Q. Ah, now that word “Human”. What exactly is a Human?
Q. I'm sorry, I don't quite get your meaning.
Q. I see, thank you for those insights. Now, looking around I see many pieces of calligraphy. Are these all your own work?
Q. And to make a profit?
Q. Do you anticipate much difficulty establishing yourself in a profession that is almost entirely held by Unicorns? Some have said you have no chance of competing against them. How do you think your work will stand against theirs?
Q. Well I certainly admire your enthusiasm, and wish you the best of luck! Do you have any words for our readers?
Kicking our way through autumn's leaves
Journal entry of Mark Robertson
It occurs to me that in writing for yourself, and not for anyone else, you tend to cut details out or even omit events altogether. For example, looking back, I didn't mention the time a pony went into hysterics on the high street, accusing me of eating her foal. (As it happened the little toe-rag had wandered off into a toy shop). And I played down how much legal waffle I had to wade through when purchasing my shop.
Having made that observation, I'm going to try and be as accurate as I can from now on, because while I may remember all the details now, that might not always be the case. And who knows, maybe I'll be like a latter day Pepys, remembered for my journal? In either case, it will pay to write as many details as possible.
After I got the reply from Celestia, I worked up the courage to write to Winter (as I have taken to calling her) suggesting we catch up. Happily she accepted. We went to our usual place, a pleasant little café that did fair to middling tea, but excellent cakes.
I started the conversation on a light topic – is what I'd like to say.Smooth, talk work while on a date. I berated myself mentally.
'I can't complain, I do a steady trade in the pre-made items, and the number of commissions is getting up there.' I told her, glad to be talking with someone who appreciated my craft.
'Me too, we get along so well with each other. I wish we could see more of each other – see each other more often I mean.' she said, hastily rephrasing herself.
'That would be wonderful! I've been hoping for some time off, and taking part in the running of the leaves sounds great. Gosh, I haven't done it in so long!' she replied, clopping her hooves together excitedly.
With that settled, we fell back on small talk for the next hour or so before parting, not to see each other before meeting at the starting line, a week from then. When the day came I awoke at about six O'clock and prepared myself as best I could. I had a bowl of muesli with sliced banana for breakfast, and eschewed my usual morning cup of tea for a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. Finally, I got dressed into my running outfit, musing as I did so on the incongruity of there being so many tailors in a world where they went naked more often than not. I also regretted that I myself could not, or would not go about as ponies did. Whether from physical inability (fur must keep them rather warm in bad weather) or from cultural or religious feeling, I just couldn't do it. If I could, the expense in getting clothes would be done away with altogether. After making sure that the doors & windows to what was both my shop and home were secured, I head to the train station. (A holdover from a lifetime on Earth, as robberies were far less common, indeed many left their homes unlocked).
A short train ride later, and I was stepping onto the platform at Ponyville, where I was pleasantly surprised to see Winter had already arrived.
'Shut up, all right! They're my mum's! I had to borrow them, because I didn't have any of my own.' she shot back, blushing.
'So, are you ready to shake some leaves off the tress?' I asked, as we set off for the starting line.
'It depends on culture, but most names mean something and are often reflective of an aspiration for the child, or what their parents think of them. You know like “beautiful” for a girl or “manly” if it's a boy.'
At that point, our conversation ended, because we had reached the marshalling area, where we had to register to compete. The race itself was fairly simple, just a few miles along a preset course, through a forest. Winter and I took it rather easy, both because we knew we had no chance of being in the first across the finish line and also because of how picturesque the scenery was. The amazing reds, oranges and browns of all the leaves and the way they crunched when stepped on were wondrous, magical even. But I think the real magic was having her next to me, as we made no effort to avoid piles of leaves, but actually aiming for them so we could kick our way through them to enjoy the resulting explosion of colour and laughing with pure joy.
In the end, we came in close to last, but we didn't care, we had the most fun either of us had had in a long time. By the time it came to say goodbye at the Canterlot train station, it was becoming increasingly obvious to me that Winter was working herself up to do or say something. My own preparations were probably as obvious to her. It all depended on who would gather their courage first.Why is it so much harder to look her in the eye? I thought.
To my great surprise, she responded by flying to head height, and kissing me with such forcefulness that I was nearly bowled over. She wrapped her forelegs around me, and I, lost in passion, did the same with my arms. She was so warm, and her lips and mouth so soft as I cannot even begin to describe. I'd like to say that fireworks were going off in my head, that time seemed to slow, but all in all, it was just a few very emotionally charged moments in which we both revelled in the nearness of the other, and the crossing of a threshold. From now on we both knew we could never go back, the way was shut.
Eventually, we parted, and we looked at each other awkwardly, hardly knowing what to say or do. The matter was decided for us by the arrival of a guard, telling us that we had to leave because the station was closing for the night. We promised to see more of each other soon, and we then both went our separate ways.
Journal of Mark Robertson
Monday night, four days after the running of the leaves.
For the last few days, I have been in a state of perpetual euphoria. I left the train station with my heart pounding, my mind racing with conflicted thoughts and ideas, all tending towards joy. After reflection, I consider Winter kissing me to have been perhaps the best thing in my life, certainly the best thing since I found myself in Equestria. All day I sit behind my desk hardly taking notice of the ponies coming and going. My mind is a million miles away, even when serving a customer. I swear I jumped three feet in the air today when a delivery pony knocked on the desk to get my attention. I feel like I'm walking on air, just gliding along, buoyed by my own happiness.
That feeling of walking on air is soon to be all too real, because today, Winter asked me to join her for dinner at her place, and I agreed before learning that she (naturally) lives in Cloudsdale, and I will therefore need to drink a cloud-walking potion, which she very helpfully had already bought. She looked so happy that I hadn't the heart to tell her I don't do well with heights. I am writing this at my desk, with the innocuous bottle containing the potion safely in my sock drawer. Previously it was on the desk, but I couldn't have it sitting there, like a malevolent idol taunting me with its presence any longer. I should finish now, and get to bed, the next time I write, I will have either embarrassed myself in front of the mare I love or I'll have risen to the occasion and conquered my basophobia.
Wednesday, morning, heavy rain and a bitterly cold wind.
Well, I'm not dead, but I certainly feel like I stood on the edge of eternity last night. After a less than restful night, work was hell, and I did very little the whole day.
Just as I was wondering how exactly you knocked on a door made of cloud, Winter opened the door
She led me into her living room which had some very soft looking cloud sofas, and a large cabinet full of awards and with dozens of photographs.
On the lower portion were various photos, but pride of place was given to a large portrait of Winter in academic garb, grinning broadly & clutching a degree of some sort, flanked by two ponies who, judging by their appearance must be her parents. Just as I was examining this picture, she called out that dinner was ready. I turned to see her trotting into the room.
'Oh hey, you didn't have to stay standing, you can sit on the clouds. You won't fall through.' she said with a titter.
'What's a “Monk”, I'm going to assume that they're some type of Human, and not related to Monkeys?'
'Ahem, anyway, should we have dinner? I'd hate to think of your cooking going to waste.' I said, hastily changing the topic.
After dinner, we sat on her couch, making idle small talk, and I have to admit, it was pleasant having her her small body so near to mine. Eventually, my eye settled on the large photo on the cabinet that I had noticed earlier.How do ponies blush through fur? I asked myself for the billionth time.
'No no, It's actually really interesting. I love learning more about my girlfriend.' I said
I have chosen to write this on a separate sheet of paper for a myriad of reasons including hiding it from any children I may have in the future.
I stood there dumbfounded by the seemingly innocent question, and the unspoken implication. At long last, my mind seized upon a seemingly sensible excuse that was sure to allow me to decline without offending Winter.
'And if I had one that could allow you to stay the night, you'd stay?' she asked
My mind was going ninety-to-the-dozen. No, forget that, it had reached supersonic speeds. Here was I, a Human, walking around in the cloud house of my girlfriend – who was a sapient pony. And she was asking me to spend the night with her – with all that such a request entails. I wrestled with my conscience, all the while acutely aware of her hopeful expression.
She's asking for it, do it! - screamed one part of me. No, say you want to wait until you're married! yelled another! Horsefucker! Sinner! Bellowed a third part of me. And so it went, with my mind being pulled every which way, and me being unable to form a coherent response to these disparate parts. Just as I was about to finally make a decision, Winter already had made hers.
What I did next shocked the both of us. I quickly moved to scoop her up in my arms, and before she could utter another word, I kissed her. Not the frantic, passionate kiss of our parting at the train station, but a slow, deliberate kiss, gentle and full of affection. Initially she was stiff and timid, but eventually she relaxed and reciprocated. After about a minute of kissing, we parted, and stared into each others eyes.
'So, should we?' I asked, unsure of how to finish that particular question.
By the time we reached her bedroom, I was painfully erect. It had been a long time since a female had expressed intimate desire for me, especially given that I was so very alien to most people. I could practically feel my body prepare for what it knew was coming. Winter stretched herself out near the foot of her bed, waiting for me. I slowly stripped out of my clothing, marvelling inwardly at how warm this room was. Winter watched as I undressed, her face alight with arousal, with sparkles dancing in her eyes, and her breath catching as I started to peel off my underwear.
'Oh wow, I always wondered what you looked like – down there.'
'Hey, don't take it like that. Come sit on the bed, and let me show you how much I like it.' she said in an oh-so sultry tone. I did, and she slowly put her face between my legs and took a long, tentative lick of the underside of my half erect member, from base to tip.
With barely a pause, I got behind her and lined myself up before sinking myself into her. As warm and wet as her mouth had been, her pussy was at least 1000 times better. And the tightness? It was amazing. I had just lost my virginity, outside of marriage, and to a non-Human! And I didn't care, it was bliss! I recall letting out a sibilant hiss as I bottomed out, that was matched by heavy panting from Winter.
'Ah, Mark – stop, stop! She called out after a few minutes of this.
'Noo,' she moaned, gasping as I shifted my weight ' I want you to make love to me your way.'
After that first orgasm, she had three more before I felt my own approaching.
Journal of Mark Robertson
In sleep we may at least hope for a few hours of rest, though at times we may dream wondrous dreams, or relive pleasant days of our past. Sometimes however, we are beset by dark and terrible visions. This is what I have experienced this night. After parting from Winter after our first night together, I made it to my studio just on opening time. The day went pretty much as usual, though I was a tad preoccupied at not my usual self. I ate a light dinner, showered and went to bed early, to catch up on lost sleep. So far, nothing too out of the ordinary.
At some point in my slumber, my subconsciousness decided to torment me. I found myself in a church, and I realised with shock that it was the church I attended as a boy! Awestruck, and wondering if this was real or not, I made my way to the side altar, dedicated to Mary. It was bathed in bright sunlight, streaming in through the etched glass window depicting Mary, arms out ready to receive penitents in a loving embrace, as only the mother of God could.
It was then that I noticed the confessional light was on, indicating that a priest was ready to hear confession. Seeing that no one was around, I walked over, and entered the little room.
'Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it has been nearly three years since my last confession. In that time I have committed a multitude of sins, mostly venial, but I have let them pile up with little or no attempt to curb them.' I began, planning on easing into the real reason I had entered the confessional.
'Yes Father. That's why I am here. I know you may not believe me, but for these past few years, I have been in a world so very unlike our own. The people there – well they're ponies, sapient ponies! They talk, have buildings and have a social order! And in time I came to like it there, and the people. And God help me I eventually began to be physically attracted to them!'
'Yes Father, but that is just the beginning. I recently fell in love with one. Her name is Winter Wonder, she's smart, funny, a talented artist and I freely admit it, beautiful. I know it's probably against all laws of God and Man, but if loving her is a sin, then I'm guilty. I'm guilty of much more too, because we made love recently. I love Winter, God help me I do! But we aren't married, and she's not even a Human! Father, what do I do? I feel so conflicted. I love her, but I can't help but feel it was wrong somehow!' I exclaimed, despair creeping into my voice.
'My son, you know this relationship is a gross distortion of the sexual faculty, don't you? As much as you may love this “Winter” your relationship goes against Church teaching. I urge you to break it off with her.' he said, gravely which threw me off, because it was so unlike him
I stood up, startled, his voice had become my own, but full of hatred and anger!
'God no! This can't be happening! No, no, no! I cried, slumping to the ground, letting my emotions pour out. It was then that she appeared – Princess Luna. With a bright flash that pierced through my eyelids, she stood before me.
'But you are not in your world.' she replied gentlythat about?' I asked, pointing at the church.
'So why then this dream? This is your home town is it not? A place you still yearn for?'
'Mark, if you run from your feelings they will only grow and grow. Eventually they will overtake you. You have to be honest, both to yourself and to Winter. Pretending everything is fine will only cause heartache.'
Author's Note
The next chapter is going to be interesting! It will be told from Winter's POV! I hope you enjoy! It may take a while, because I'm more used to being inside Marks head, and because Winter is a girl, which I am not.
Diary of Winter Wonder
Dear Diary, today I got a letter from my dear Mark,
When I pulled it from the pile I got this morning, I could tell right away that something was wrong. His usually perfect copperplate writing was replaced by a diagonal scrawl across the front of the envelope. The letter itself was also poorly written - a mess of spelling mistakes, and crossed out out words or even whole sentences.
When I finally deciphered what he had written, I felt tightness in my chest. He wrote that he had to see me as soon as possible, that he needed to tell me something that may affect our relationship – perhaps even end it! The way he phrased it, and the obvious rush to write and post it made my heart ache, because Mark is normally a slow, deliberate person. Something that would have him so flustered must surely be incredibly distressing. It has to be something that he wishes not to say, but knows he should.
Oh Diary, what if he wants to break it off with me! What if he has found a way back to his world? Yes that must be it! He has found a way to get back to his world, and wants to know how “serious” our relationship is to me. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my doubts about us – we are so very different after all. But we share so many interests, and he is handsome! Different from a stallion, but definitely handsome. But, more than that, he doesn't mind when I go into long-winded explanations of the minutiae of snow making. He is the first person to actually listen to me ramble on with an expression of awe and to complement my passion for designing snowflakes – well apart from my professor, and I could hardly date him!
And yes, the sex was amazing! All my friends said stallions don't last long, so it was a real surprise when he just kept going and going – and going. But then I guess he's not a stallion! What with his pink penis that shrinks, but doesn't retract, and round tip that is covered by skin when he's soft. His “hands” are amazing too, able to touch and grip and stroke in so many ways! Just thinking about it makes me want more. I have to admit, though that the idea of not being able to have his foals hurts. Though with magic one can never rule it out as impossible – Princess Cadence never thought she and Shining would have a baby Alicorn after all! If I can't have his foals – with or without some extra help, then we can adopt if we decide we want to become parents.
After listening to my favourite record while having a nice bubble-bath and a cup of soothing Jasmine tea, I decided to write to him. I have to work late tonight (I've got an early snowfall to prepare) but I told him that tomorrow night after work I'll visit his place, and we can talk. I hope I was able to word my reply properly, I tried to be understanding and not let my own misgiving creep in too much.
Oh Diary, just between you and I, Mark is the last person that I ever expected to fall in love with, but I thank Celestia that I have. I hope that when we meet we can settle everything and stay as boyfriend & marefriend. When next I write to you, I will either be in a pit of despair or I will be happy having cleared up some minor matter with the Human I love. I pray to Celestia that it is the latter.
Author's Note
I'm sorry this chapter is so short! I guess I'm still not great at getting inside Winters head. I will try more often though, to present a more rounded view of her personality.
Winter is coming...to dinner
Journal entry of Mark Robertson
Oh what sweet release! What rapture to be unburdened! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
I received Winter's reply by first post this morning. In her short note, she begged me to wait until tonight, for she couldn't get out of work that night. She entreated me to say whatever I had to say, but gently “For the affection towards me you have expressed so far, I beg you that if you must break my heart, then remember me, and be kind.” she wrote at one point before crossing it out and substituting a more subdued phrasing.
I closed the shop early today, both due to lack of custom and my nerves. I showered, cleaned my bedroom, and began preparing a meal that Winter would like, and I could stomach – a vegetarian quiche. Being an only child of busy parents meant I had to learn to cook and clean for myself from the age of fourteen, once my parents thought I was old enough to be home on my own. My cooking skills are a bit rusty, since I have fallen into the habit of simply frying or roasting the meat specially imported for me and boiling a few vegetables. Still, I knew the recipe off by heart, and was sure it would turn out well. I Went out to buy dessert, settling on a banana cheesecake. I considered popping into the chemists to get some “protection” but Winter wasn't in heat, and even if she was, a Human couldn't possibly make a Pony pregnant.
Instead, I went home, and after setting the table, I retrieved my rosary from the back of the draw in my bedside cabinet, and prayed a decade, to calm my nerves. I finished up with a personal prayer for strength and to speak truly.
At seven O'clock – precisely, the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of Winter. With leaden steps I went to the door and opened it. I cannot recall exactly what we first said to each other. It was slightly awkward as we were both very happy to see each other again, and yet the reason she was here hung over us like the clouds that were being gathered on the horizon. At dinner we spoke very little, restricting our conversation to minor matters. Eventually though, I broached the subject as we finished off our dessert.
With a deep sigh I broke the silence, 'Winter, The reason I wrote that letter asking you to visit urgently is because I'm having doubts.'
Her expression became one of mingled relief and concern, and it was a while before she said anything.
And so it all poured out of me. All my doubts and fears and deepest desires.
'Mark, thank you for telling me all this, it makes what I'm about to say all the easier.' she said, voice heavy with emotion.
I looked up, panic stricken, waiting for her words, expecting a break-up line. What came instead was yet another example of why I loved her.man , I still have the niggling worry about committing myself to a life with the possibility of missing out on that.'
I took a moment to process what she had just told me. And then it dawned on me.
'What are you saying?' she asked
'I'm saying we should have been honest with each other from the start. If we want this relationship to work, we have to share how we feel, not bottle it up, thinking we're doing the right thing.' I explained.
We made our way to my tiny living room, where a small sofa was placed in front of the fireplace. After prodding the embers and putting more wood on the fire, I sat myself down next to Winter, who then settled herself between my legs. I don't know how long we sat there but it seemed like hours that we sat there snuggled up together, with no sound but the crackling of the fire and our own breathing. Eventually I began to caress her, to murmurers of approval. By degrees I moved to her haunch, and lazily traced over her cutie mark – the larger bottom snowflake in particular.
I gazed down at her almost black teats and puffy pony pussy, slick with her juices, and then to her face, flushed with desire before sliding myself into her welcoming depths again. This time we moved in unison, thrust meeting thrust, at a slow, even tempo. We held tight to each other and said nothing, but simply communicated our desires by touch, a look or a moan. Once again, Winter had several orgasms before my own, and when I came, she even managed to squirt a little as she experienced a massive final orgasm.
We fell asleep like that, my softening member still inside her and our limbs entangled in each other. We woke a little before dawn, and before long we were going at it again. This time she was the little spoon, and I took short thrusts into her while I caressed her teats once more. The sensation of this position had the surprising effect of making me cum before her, but she didn't seem to mind and actually drifted off to sleep with a contented smile. We didn't actually rouse ourselves until well after sunrise. Winter had to make a mad dash for work, with hardly time to do more than have a quick shower and a few pieces of marmalade on toast for breakfast. She said goodbye and gave me a peck on the cheek before flying off as fast as she could.
I spent the morning having to clean up the mess we had made on my couch, regretting the hastiness that had led to our choice of location.
Journal entry of Mark Robertson
It's hard to believe, but I've gone a couple of months without writing an entry in my journal. I have been so busy lately. Time keeps on slipping away from me and I find that before I know it it's tomorrow, and then the next week. Hardly an excuse for laziness, but I'll try and list some of the highlights. In these past few months, I have had a marked increase in commissions, met Winters parents, saw my first ever Buckball game and done some re-decorating. This Hearth Warming Eve was the best I've had since arriving in Equestria. I got some fine pens and ink from Winter and in return I bought her some fancy lingerie and I wrote her a poem in my finest hand with my best materials.
I had a bit of a sniffle the other week, and Winter played nurse which was nice.
Winter's sadness at the end of another winter got me thinking of what my place in the world was. The turn of the seasons, the end of another year here is as good a time as any for self reflection.
Three years after arriving in Equestria with nothing but the clothes on my back, and no memory of where I was or what I was doing before being found passed out in Canterlot park I think I can safely say I have fully settled in here. My business continues to grow – perhaps I'll have to hire an apprentice and move to bigger premises soon? This spring sees the annual awards for the Calligraphers guild, and I wonder if I'll finally get some recognition for all my hard work? I remember well my first time there. I was elated to have been nominated for best new Calligrapher, and turned up full of hope that I might so soon be accepted into my chosen profession. I was bitterly disappointed when a unicorn of competent ability, but with nothing out of the ordinary won. If I was being uncharitable, I'd call his style plebeian and boring.
What stung worse the reception afterwards. It was all glitz and glamour with a string quartet mingling with the chatter of ponies and the clinking of wine flutes. As I wandered around, wondering what to do, I happened to pass a small group of ponies – one of whom was the head judge of the panel that had just decided who won and who lost.
During Hearth's Warming, I ruminated on how secular it is. Unlike Christmas, there is no spiritual message behind it, just a simple one of how important working together is, rather than endless fighting. After three years I find myself relying on God less and less. Church was an integral part of my childhood, and though by the time I was a teenager I was half an Atheist (perhaps more than half), I still had a lingering attraction to the prayers and ceremonies, so would go to Mass every so often, usually around Christmas and Easter. Finding myself in a strange new land, the idea of a God who cared about me & could bring me back was a comfort, so I prayed to go home every day. Eventually, as I became more accustomed to life in Equestria I prayed less and less. Eventually it became more of an emotional crutch, a touchstone to my past when everything was so sure and certain. I would pray when I needed reassurance, and not of genuine belief. I still do from time to time.
If I'm being completely honest, I don't really believe in God, the Bible or the Church any more. Mainly because of the reasons I hardly ever went to church in my old life, but also because they would very likely condemn my relationship with Winter. Plenty of people would be only too happy to follow the command in Leviticus 20:15 “If a man lies with an animal, he shall surely be put to death, and you shall kill the animal.” Winter wasn't an animal, but she certainly resembled one, and that would be enough to kill us both to some Christians and to ostracise us from others. Lucky then that world was forever closed to me.
Well, it's getting late, and I have a early start tomorrow. I shall sleep in the hope that a new year brings only joy to Winter and I, putting all the worst behind us. May you too – whoever may be reading this – only find peace and joy in your life.
Letter to Princess Celestia from Mark Robertson
Dear Princess Celestia,
Firstly, I want to thank you for the excellent advice you gave me in your last letter. Winter and I have been dating since autumn, and I couldn't be happier. She had felt the same way as I for a long time, and was beginning to think that she should give up. So your advice was not only right, but timely as well. We are getting along so well, I think I may propose to her within the next twelve months.
Secondly, I wish to ask you to convey to your sister my sincerest thanks in dealing with a nightmare I had a while back. With her guidance, I have been able to fully come to terms with my situation and not avoid dealing with it.
I think both Luna and yourself know how hard it has been for me to come to terms with being here and I thank you for every bit of help that you have rendered to me, and the kindness you have shown at every turn. When I arrived I kept to myself, seldom talking to anypony, preferring instead to turn inwards, clinging to my old life as much as possible. Today all that has changed. I am in love with a wonderful mare and my business is doing far better than I ever expected. I am truly happy here. Which leads me to the main reason that I'm writing this letter.
I need to let you know of a very strange thing that happened to me the other night. I went to bed as usual, but then I found myself in a long room, though it could have just as easily been called a corridor, as it was longer than it was wide.
It was incredibly ostentatious, with wooden panelling and a solid mahogany table. One wall had a large landscape painting in a silver frame, the other wall had two large windows with lead diamond patterns. At the far end were two doors. As though moved by some irresistible force, I moved closer and I arrived at the opposite end of the room in a few short steps.
Two doors of heavy oak with golden handles stood before me. Above each there was a placard carved in exquisite scrolling patterns. The one on the right said “Aye” and the left read “Noe” in bright gold paint. A sign hung on the space between them, which read as follows:
After I few deep breaths, I examined every inch of the room twice over. Despite checking every nook and cranny, I could find no hint of a secret entrance - just perfectly solid walls and floor. The windows too were firmly fixed and did not open. Had there been a chair hardy, I might have tried smashing one. Slowly a thought came into my head.
'Is this a dream again?' I asked aloud.
All in all it was like being in that place between sleep and wakefulness – that liminal world where all things were possible. The only thing I wanted was an end to it, and that I could not get. I would need some help.
Slowly it dawned on me that whatever this was, it wasn't a dream. If I wanted to leave this strange place, had to make a choice. I don't know how long I stood in front of those two doors trying to decipher the riddle of which would take me where, but eventually I made my mind up. I had stayed in this bizarre place far too long already, and felt as if any longer would drive me out of my wits.
With thumping heart, and trembling knees, I walked through the door into pure, white light. As I crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind me, and it all went black, as if someone had turned off the light.
It was then that I found myself on the floor of my bedroom, hopelessly entangled in my bedsheets.
Having chosen this world, that I know consider to be my home I think it is time to choose a more pony sounding name. After much thought I have decided on “Quillswell” . I decided to take what was meant as a backhanded compliment, and make it my own. Because I do quill very well, so why not? I will still go by my old name, but for day-to-day use, I'll slowly switch over to my new name.
Yours sincerely,
Quillswell, AKA Mark Robertson
Sums, sums sums. It is tax season again, and I spent all yesterday evening at my work desk pouring over invoices, sales receipts and bank statements. I had so much to do that I even ate my dinner at my desk.
Today was Saturday, and a very fine Saturday it was too. I closed the shop, in order to enjoy the fine spring weather with Winter.
I met her at the main entrance to Canterlot Park at eight O'clock precisely and saw that she had changed her manestyle again. She now had it cut like Spitfire, the Wonderbolt captain.
With that, we began a leisurely stroll around the massive park. Canterlot Park is a large expanse of land, tucked away on the edge of the city. The main attraction is the large fountain set amidst a vast lawn of soft grass, bordered by well kept gardens. But there is also a copse of trees, and a little beck leading into a small lake. There was an ice cream cart by this lake, so I bought us an ice cream each. I chose orange chocolate chip, and Winter went for strawberry. We sat on a park bench and watched the swans swimming placidly as we ate our ice creams.
The sounds of the little fillies and colts playing on the playground drifted across the lake from the distant shore, and the sounds of the wildlife on a wonderful spring day seemed so magical to my mind.
'Isn't it a lovely day?' I asked, by way of a conversation starter.
Once we had finished our ice creams we moved on. We walked through the copse of trees, marvelling at the many fine specimens of trees and bushes. We came upon a small clearing in which there was a picnic area as well as a wishing well.
By late afternoon our path led us back to the park centre. We stood awhile in front of the elegant Italianate fountain with the impressive sculpture of Luna and Celestia endlessly spouting water from their horns high into the air as its centrepiece. By degrees I became aware of a need to answer a call of nature.
Once I returned to Winter's side it was half past three, and we decided to go to our favourite cafe for a late lunch or perhaps an early dinner.
We had an excellent meal in an almost empty cafe, having beaten the evening rush. While we were enjoying an after dinner coffee, I pulled a small box out of my pocket and slid it over to Winter.
Inside was a silver sixpence, and a card which she proceeded to read aloud.
'Winter -' I said, reaching across the table to place my hand on her leg, 'Will you marry me? That sixpence is an heirloom I have kept with me ever since I turned eighteen. It was given to me by my dad, who got it from his dad. It's a tradition in my culture to give a sixpence for luck in marriage, and I was given this to present to whoever I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Winter, I would be the happiest person in Equestria if you would be my wife.'
And so that is how I come to be engaged to the most wonderful mare in all of Equestria. Right now it is a little after six in the morning, and I am writing this with repeated glances at Winter as she slumbers on. She looks a million times more beautiful asleep, and though I hate to wake her, breakfast will be ready soon.
The discontent of our Winter
Journal entry of Mark Robertson (continued)
I once imagined that when two people were truly in love, there could never be any discord between them, that everything would be perfect. Recent events showed me that even in a world like Equestria, that is not the case. I include below transcripts of communications between Winter and I over the past week or so.
Magigram to Winter Wonder from Mark Robertson
Winter, I'm sorry about yesterday. You were absolutely right, I should have asked you if you minded my cooking a full English breakfast while you were here. However I must protest at your reaction, you said some very hurtful things, and I hope that you didn't mean the half of them.
For my own part, I apologise for my own outbursts, they were as unkind as they were uncalled for.
Love,
Magigram from Winter Wonder to Mark Robertson
Mark, I am so, so sorry for what I said! I don't know what came over me. I just smelled the bacon, and it was like a switch flicked inside my head and I was so angry I couldn't think straight. I'm going to finish work early today and make it up to you. I'll see you at half past four!
Love you loads,
Letter from Mark Robertson to Winter Wonder
Winter, are you sure you're feeling all right? Last night you started off in high spirits, then got rather affectionate, aggressive even. (my shoulder still hurts by the way)
Please! If there is something bothering you, or if I've said or done something to upset you, tell me! I only want to help.
I know summer is fast approaching now that spring is well underway. Is that it? I've never known you to be this changeable at this time of year, but then we weren't as close before. Whatever it is I just want to be by your side and help you through it.
All my love,
Mark
Letter from Winter wonder to Mark Robertson
Mark, It's not you it's me. It's a seasonal thing. If you catch my drift. Normally it's not so bad, and I can take care of it by myself. But now that I have you, it's a thousand times worse. I asked my mum, and she said it's because I've got a stallion (or man in my case) and when a mare goes into season and has a male, her body goes nuts. So all the moodiness, the over active sex drive – that's all because of my heat. I'll be more myself soon I promise. I didn't mean to do or say all those horrible things, I swear! I can't believe I bit you on the shoulder! I am so embarrassed! I don't know what came over me, I just had this overwhelming urge to bite you when – well you know what we were doing. Anyway, I'll be back to normal by the end of next week, please bear with me until then, and know that I do love you.
Forever yours,
Journal entry of Mark Robertson (continued)
As it turns out Winter was true to her word, and is now back to usual self. Her libido is down to a more manageable level, and her mood is less changeable and no longer reaches extreme highs or lows. It will be summer before too long and I anticipate good things to happen this season. Here's hoping that I'm not disappointed in that hope.
Author's Note
Sorry that this chapter took so long to write, and is so short. it was a pain to write, and I've been busy lately. Hopefully the next chapter is easier to write and is longer.
It seems I am not disappointed in my hopes for summer. Last Sunday was Summer sun Sunday, the official start to summer, and already things are looking up. A fortnight ago I attended the annual Calligraphers' Guild meeting and awards. After three years of hard work, I have finally been recognised! I won the big one, the most prestigious award of them all! I am now officially the best calligrapher of the year! I have it framed on the wall in my work area, proudly declaring me, Quillswell to be the best calligrapher in all of Equestria. Furthermore I have a sign on my front window telling everypony that passes the same. My client list has greatly expanded ever since I won!
Just as well then that I recently finalised the purchase of the shop next to mine, and planning permission to create an entrance between them. Up until last month, a lovely older couple ran a florists there, but six months ago, they told me they were going to retire soon. After some thought, I approached them with an offer to purchase it and also consulted a builder about creating a single shop by knocking down the wall between our shops.
As it turned out, they were only to happy to sell to me, and the builder said he couldn't knock it down completely (it's a load bearing wall) but he could easily put an arch in. Work starts next week and should take about a month. I plan on using the new section as the main shop, as it's the larger of the two, being at least twice the size. My current shop will be used as spillover and for private viewings and other more intimate gatherings. With the growing number of customers, this couldn't have come at a better time. For years I had struggled, making ends met by being cheaper than my competitors. The guild refused to recognise my hard work and skill, choosing instead those of lesser ability. I wondered if I'd ever “make it” as they say. Well now I can put those fears behind me! It's like that old song says, you just have to hold on to your dreams and not give up, even when you think your ship has sailed. The only downside is that I'm getting run off my feet with work now! I may have to hire someone to help me.
My shop is not the only thing that is expanding right now. Winter recently announced that she's pregnant. It seems all the lovemaking during her oestrus wasn't just a bit of fun. In hindsight, I should have seen the signs – the bloating, morning sickness and most bizarrely, her sudden request for a share of the pork scratchings from my pantry.
I remember her putting a bunch of pamphlets on the coffee table – all to do with pregnancy and foalcare.
Winter thought about it for a while and then her face lit up with sudden inspiration.
However, in the end I have decided to make the best decision for my wife and our unborn child – or rather children, as Winter tells me the doctor is sure that we can expect twins. I have spent the past week compulsively reading and re-reading the pamphlets that Winter brought home, and they quite clearly state that extended time spent below certain altitudes as well as repeated changes can be bad for developing Pegasi foals and puts stress on the mother. I am determined to ensure their well-being at all costs. And that cost has come to fifty thousand bits as I have the paperwork on my desk, signed and ready for delivery to the realtor's office first thing in the morning.
I have not the faintest clue how I will manage fatherhood, but as with all things I expect to muddle through. I will probably make a few mistakes, but with Winters help, I am sure she and I will make splendid parents.
Journal entry of Mark Robertson (continued)
Autumn is here again, after three long months of Summer. Winter (Should I re-phrase that? Having three seasons in a row like that just looks wrong.) is now visibly pregnant, and her mood swings and morning sickness have subsided. Her new found taste for meat remains however. (I wonder if they voted remain back home?) . I often wake up to find her in the kitchen frying up some of my bacon. She also insists on claiming my supply of jerky, as she loves chewing and sucking on it like a salty sweet.
When we last went to a prenatal check-up, the doctor confirmed that she is indeed carrying twins. We already suspected as much, both from what her GP told her, and because she is about twice the size of the majority of the other mares we see in the waiting room. Winter and I have both decided that we don't want to know the sex or species of the foals, preferring to wait until they're born. Winter says that all her known ancestry is Pegasus with the sole exception of a great-great Grandmother who was a Bat Pony. According to her, Bat Ponies are a sub-species of Pegasus that mostly keep to themselves. For this reason, they're on the way to becoming a fourth race, alongside Earth Ponies, Unicorns and their Pegasi cousins. While it is rare, Pegasi can often give birth to Bat Ponies, even if they have no known Bat Pony ancestry. Winter having a fairly recent bat pony ancestor increases the chance that one or both of our foals (and any we may have in future) will be Bat Ponies.
While we don't know the sex or species of our foals, we do know that they are both ponies, and well formed ones at that. I must say I had hoped that they might have been half and half. Maybe like Satyrs or even Centaur like. But then I suppose being ponies is a blessing, as they'll fit in better. The doctor did assure me that they will have some traces of their Human half, so the fact that they're healthy and strong is more than good enough for me.
I am now living in the new apartment, and I have to admit that I like it. I always thought of them as cramped, stuffy little boxes before. These ones however take up a whole floor of quite a large building, and are very tastefully made up. Besides having room for our growing family, there's also room for more furniture than I could have ever crammed into the small room above the shop.
After expanding my shop, I did end up hiring somepony to help me out, a young colt named Inkblot. He mainly serves the customers while I do orders, but I also teach him more about the trade. I suppose you might call him my apprentice. He's friendly enough and keen to learn but he doesn't get my jokes, such as calling him my Padawan, and when I called him grasshopper, he replied that he was a Unicorn. Oh well, I guess having a decent worker is good enough.
Since winning the Calligrapher of the Year award, my business has trebled. Even with Inkblot taking care of smaller jobs and serving customers, I've had to resort to using a waiting list for the first time ever. At present I restrict myself to five commissions at any one time, and a six month “lock out” after each commission, to ensure that other ponies get a chance to get a slot. I remember know wondering what it was like for artists back on Earth to be having to work long hours to deliver what people had paid them to do. I didn't envy them then; and now know all too well the stress of having deadlines and competing demands on your time. In addition to my workload, there's a lot (and I do mean a lot!!) of work to do in preparation of the impending birth. There are the regular pre-natal health checks, the weekly, hour and a half long motherhood classes that Winter has signed up for.
'Daddy really ought to come too!' exclaimed the overly enthusiastic mare who ran the show when I made to leave after taking Winter to her first session. So every Thursday night I, and a handful of equally disgruntled stallions must endure hearing about what pregnancy does to a mares body and what childbirth involves. Worse than that are the ridiculous exercises and new age mumbo-jumbo. It's not that I don't want to support Winter through her pregnancy, God knows I do. It's just that the way the class is taught, and the gossip I overhear during group discussions and tea breaks makes pregnancy seem like an overwhelming burden – a curse almost, and I'm beginning to feel rather guilty about putting Winter in her current condition.
I spoke to Winter about this just the other night.
Last, but not least of the claims on my time is the endless shopping for baby clothes, cot, prams and toys and so forth. This last one is mostly down to Winter's mother, who is over the moon at the prospect of becoming a grandmother. She often visits us and revels in showing me baby photos of Winter, much to her embarrassment.
All in all I'd say I could do with a nice long holiday, as my nerves are getting frazzled. Unfortunately time off is a luxury I can ill-afford at the moment. I may just have to reduce my workload to spend more time with Winter before the birth.
Journal entry of Mark Robertson (continued)
I am writing this at three in the morning by the soft light of my desk lamp. Why, you ask? Because Winter and I are now the parents of two adorable little foals. And we have just got them back to sleep, after they woke up crying. Permit me to take you back a fortnight to before the birth...
It was just another late Winter day, a clear and crisp day after a week of snow fall. By now Winter was heavily pregnant, hardly able to move for any great length of time so she spent most of her time relaxing on a sofa.
I was washing up after lunch when I heard Winter give a startled gasp.
'Winter?' I yelled, dashing over to her.
The sofa was soaked with fluid – her water had just broken!
'I'm sorry honey, I know how fond of this sofa you are.' she said ruefully
'Forget that, how are you? Why didn't you tell me sooner?'
'I'm fine, I just thought it was just the usual discomfort so I didn't want to alarm you. I mean I'm not due for another week anyway.'
'Alright then, I'll contact Cloudsdale hospital and get them to send a shuttle. Stay calm!' I said, dashing off to the magigraph.
Fifteen minutes later, the shuttle arrived and took us to the hospital. Once there I paced up and down the corridor while the Doctor and nurses took her vitals and assessed her condition. I wanted to be with her throughout the whole affair, but I left, knowing that in my agitated state, I would only make things worse, so I needed to compose myself before going back in.
'Deep breaths Mark, just take deep breaths!' I told myself over and over again.
Eventually I did the only thing I could think to do and exercising the last sliver of faith I possessed I got down on my knees and began to pray.
'Great St. Gerard,
beloved servant of Jesus Christ,
perfect imitator of Jesus,
and devoted child of the Mother of God,
enkindle within my heart one spark
of that Heavenly fire of charity which glowed in yours.
Because you bore,
without murmur or complaint,
the calumnies of wicked men
when falsely accused of crime,
you have been raised up by God
as the patron and protector of expectant mothers.
Preserve her in the dangers of motherhood,
and shield the children she now bears,
that they may be brought safely to the light of day,
and receive the sacrament of baptism.'
I knew that our children would never be baptised, and strongly doubted that St Gerard - or any other saint had heard, but the prayer did have the effect of steadying my nerves.
With new found courage, I re-entered the room where Winter was resting between contractions.
'Ah, Mr Robertson. You'll be glad to know your wife is doing well, the foals are comfortable, and the contractions are progressing nicely. The nurses and I will just step out for a bit so that you two can be in private. If you need us for anything at all, just press the call button.'
Winter looked better than I expected, given the circumstances. We had a private conversation which I won't reproduce here, except to say that she was glad I was going to be beside her while she gave birth.
And it was a surprisingly easy birth. After an hour and three quarters, both foals were safely delivered. The first born was a pale grey colt who was followed nearly three minutes later by his sister, a Bat Pony with midnight blue fur and a silvery mane and tail.
And to bring you back to tonight, I have to admit that I now look fondly upon these past nine months. Winter and I have been busier than either of has ever been. Life has become an endless cycle of antenatal checks, family & friends visiting, endless washing of nappies and late night feeding and changing. I have bags under the bags under my eyes! Tonight the twins woke us up for yet another feeding. While Winter lay down on the sofa (the same one her water had broke on) I lay the foals between her legs until they latched onto her teats.
As they suckled, I knelt down beside her and with my croaky, off tune voice sang a lullaby I remembered from my childhood as I stroked Winters mane.
'Holl amrantau'r sêr ddywedant
Ar hyd y nos
"Dyma'r ffordd i fro gogoniant,"
Ar hyd y nos.
Golau arall yw tywyllwch
I arddangos gwir brydferthwch
Teulu'r nefoedd mewn tawelwch
Ar hyd y nos.
O mor siriol, gwena seren
Ar hyd y nos
I oleuo'i chwaer ddaearen
Ar hyd y nos.
Nos yw henaint pan ddaw cystudd
Ond i harddu dyn a'i hwyrddydd
Rhown ein golau gwan i'n gilydd
Ar hyd y nos.'
By the time I had finished the song, the twins had finished feeding, so leaving Winter to rest, I burped them and put them back in their cots. When I turned back to see how Winter was, I saw that she had drifted off to sleep. I decided to let her be, and since I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep myself decided to make this journal entry. It's about time that we name our foals, we can't just keep calling them the “The twins” their whole lives! Our daughter is a Bat Pony, and by naming convention, they have names to do with night time. We have all but settled on calling her Moonbeam, for the colour of her mane and tail. Our son, the pale grey colt we have taken to calling Foggy Daze after his awed reaction to seeing an early morning fog, which held him spellbound. Personally I have also given them the “pet names” of Selene and Phileas.
‘But what do those names mean?’ Winter asked when I told her about them.
‘Well “Selene” is the name of the Greek moon Goddess, so Moonbeam - Selene. I call Foggy “Phileas” as bit of a joke. You see on Earth there’s a story about a man who has to circumnavigate the world in eighty days for a bet. And his name is Phileas Fogg. Get it? Phileas Fogg, Foggy Daze!’ I said grinning.
She didn’t get it, but she has decided to humour me.
Being a father is proving to be the greatest adventure I have ever embarked upon, and a challenging one at that.
I doubt I shall ever know how and or why I ended up in Equestria, but I thank whatever God or force that brought me here. I now have a loving wife, and two healthy children, which I love with all my heart. If ever you find yourself in a similar situation I urge you to accept the world you find yourself in and make the best of it that you can. In so doing, you may - like myself - find peace and happiness in your life.
Author's Note
Well this is the final chapter, I hope you have enjoyed it. Please like, comment and share if you did.
I only meant to stay a while
Preface
I am Brightspark, formerly head of the Transfiguration department at Canterlot University, and since my retirement, it has fallen to me to serve as the family historian and genealogist. I can think of no better way to spend it than by chronicling the life of my grandfather. While Mark Robertson never won any battles, nor made any great discoveries, or indeed did any of the things that usually ensure one is remembered long after you are gone, he will forever be among the most well known people in Equestrian history.
As you are no doubt aware, my grandfather arrived in Equestia under unclear circumstances with very little information as to where he had been or what he was doing before being found passed out with minor injuries in Whitetail Wood. After many weeks of investigation and experiments by some of the finest minds in Equestria, it was concluded that sadly, there was no way to send him back to his own world. Over the next few years, he made a comfortable living for himself by creating calligraphy of such beauty that it won him an ever increasing number of fans. Eventually he met and fell in love with my grandmother, marrying her after a relatively short romance.
I have previously published some selected entries of his diary, and encouraged by the interest garnered, I have decided to publish others, including newspaper cuttings and some that I only recently found. My grandfather was not the most organised person, so some diaries were not kept with the others. Why, I remember when I was just a little colt, watching him at work one day when he began frantically looking for a certain stack of paper, only for me to have to point it out to him that it was just above him.
Some of my family (and indeed some members of the public) have protested at my inclusion of some of the more intimate passages of the diaries. I can well understand their thinking, they do detail the love life of my own grandparents after all, surely I ought to excise them from the published entries? My reasoning for including them is this – I have always been a champion for pure, unvarnished truth and openness, and to hide parts of my grandfather's life, be they ever so unpleasant or private would make me a hypocrite of the highest order. My grandparents had sex, how else would I be here were that not so? There is nothing shameful in that fact, so why try to hide it?
With that said, please enjoy the first (both chronologically speaking & of the newly published entries) of my grandfather's diaries. I do not know how many I will find and see fit to publish, but I will publish those that I believe will shed more light on my grandfather's life and work.
12 th August 2015
It has been a month since I was found injured and unconscious in a wood by the horselike inhabitants of this strange new world that I find myself in, and two weeks since I was released from hospital. It would have been much sooner, but the doctors here had some difficulties with my physiology, in addition to some of my injuries being more serious than first assumed.
And, I suppose I must be honest and admit that I may have been less than composed at finding myself surrounded by talking horses, or “Ponies” as they prefer to be called. I oscillated between despair, fear and plain refusal to accept the reality of my situation. Happily though I am now much calmer. Following the advice of the staff, I have decided to start recording my thoughts in a diary, to better help me process what has happened. Once I was deemed ready to leave, I was surprised by the offer to live in the castle in Canterlot until they could send me home. Seeing as I had nowhere else to go, I was only too happy to accept.
While I was in hospital, the two Princesses who ruled this land, the sisters Luna and Celestia had assembled a team of experts, who had been busily trying to figure out where I came from and if it was possible to send me back. In this task they were being aided by Celestia's former pupil and newly promoted Princess, Twilight Sparkle (such strange names they all have). This news played a small, but vital part in soothing my frayed nerves. The knowledge that my situation was being dealt with by the highest authorities in the land was immensely reassuring. I could only hope that they were successful.
Yesterday was a rather warm Spring day, and under the stultifying effects of the midday heat, I decided to sit in shady part of my room and rest. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
The tapping became more insistent, and as I snapped back to full alertness, I realised that the sound was coming from my window.
I pulled back the curtain I had drawn to shade myself to discover that the source of the knocking was Twilight Sparkle herself. She was rather awkwardly perched on the narrow windowsill outside, and whatever had caused her to visit was quite urgent if her expression was anything to judge by.
I hastily opened the window, which luckily for her opened inwards.
'Mark! Thank goodness you're here!' Twilight gasped as she crawled through my window.
'Twilight, tell me you have good news – or any news for that matter. I've been made to feel very welcome, but I just want to go home. Can you do it, can you send me back?'
Twilights' ears drooped 'Ah, well you see...' she trailed off, 'That's why I've come, I do have news, but it's not good.' she continued after a pause
'I'm stuck here, aren't I? I asked bluntly, sitting back in my chair.
'I'm afraid it looks that way, I'm sorry Mark.' Twilight replied
This was my lowest point yet, I now had no hope of ever seeing my my own world again, I'd never see my home, my family – anything of my old life was now seemingly gone, never to be seen again. I remember sighing and swallowing a lump in my throat before asking Twilight what was going to happen to me. The answer was that I was to be given a grant of five-thousand bits with which to start a new life (based on Twilights' explanations of prices, I suppose it would equal about £100,000) and a weekly stipend of 100 bits until I found my feet. This all seemed rather generous, but Twilight assures me that it is no bother and that in addition to the financial aid, The Princesses will use their diplomatic contacts to ensure a steady supply of meat, so as to meet my dietary requirements. This last one was surprising to me.
'Meat? Are they sure? I mean, I know Ponies are all about being open and accepting of others, but meat is... Well it's a bit of a stretch. I'd understand if they didn't want to have to deal with it.'
'Mark, it's no bother really – I mean compared to the demands of the Yakistanis, meat is nothing! After all, from what you;ve told us, as well as the medical reports, "Humans" need meat in their diet. You may be here for the rest of your life, so a good diet is important.'
'Well I had hoped to only stay a while, but now I guess I'll have to get settled in. Thanks Twilight.'
'You're welcome! And don't worry Mark, I'm sure you'll do just fine.' she replied, making her way through the windowsill, causing me to get a brief but close up view of what was normally covered by her tail.
'Oh, and I almost forgot, Celestia said that she'd pay you a visit in the next day or two!' she added, turning to face me.
'O-okay! I look forward to it.' I stammered, my face burning with embarrassment.
“Excellent! Until next time!' she said brightly before flying away with less than graceful flaps of her wings.
And so with that settled, I am now beginning to seriously think about where I'll live and how I'll support myself. Maybe I could get into Calligraphy?
All I want for Hearth's Warming
Greetings, to you dear reader! This is a journal entry of personal significance to me, because I believe it details the events behind the conception of my father based on the dates and events mentioned in entries before and after it. My grandfather could at times be rather graphic in his descriptions of his love life, so I hope that such frankness does not offend you.
Yours faithfully - Brightspark
Winter has come again, and though I can hardly believe it, Moonbeam and Foggy are two years old now! Yesterday their grandparents looked after them until this afternoon because Winter and I had a very special day planned. Winter and I had decided to have another foal – or perhaps foals if she has twins again. So, knowing that yesterday was her most fertile day, we organised to have them out of the house.
Yesterday morning we said our goodbyes, and watched them become just a speck in the sky, and as soon as they were lost to sight we looked at each other and broke into spontaneous laughter. For the next thirty something hours we would be alone, and we were determined to make the most of it. First of all, we ran through a snow drift, sending snow flying every which way. I slipped on the icy ground, and fell onto the soft snow, and just laughed at myself.
'Hey Winter, look - snow angel!'
'Cool! Let me try!' she said, plopping down beside me
I stood up to watch her make a snow angel of her own and while her attempt to use her forelegs to make wings was hilarious considering she already had wings, her opening and closing her hind legs gave me good long looks at her nether region. Soon, my thermal pants and jeans were visibly bulged, and eventually she noticed where my attention was.
'Hey! My eyes are up here, you letch!' she teasingly admonished me with a cheeky look
'Ah, sorry dear, it's just... Well, you look too tempting a target down there.' I replied, with an awkward laugh
'Well, I suppose we've had enough messing about. Help me up, it's pretty cold down here.'
I put out my hand for her to grab, but instead, she pulled off my glove, stood up and flew off with it in her mouth.
'Oi!” I yelled, chasing after her
She landed a short distance away and I nearly caught her before she dodged at the last moment. She kept this up for a few minutes, almost letting me catching her before shying away, leaving me to grab thin air. Eventually though, she either got too cocky or tired or she let me catch her as I bowled her over as she tried another escape. We had collapsed in a heap, with me lying atop her, all too aware of how sexy she looked.
'Ha, I caught you! What are you going to do now?” I puffed as I stood up.
She made no reply, but just lowered her head, raised her tail and gave me an incredibly seductive look (with my glove dangling from her mouth by the middle finger no less!) and let out a short burst of highly aromatic urine, laden with her pheromones. In spite of the cold, I couldn't resist such a blatant invitation and moved behind her and fished my rapidly stiffening erection from within the tight confines of my trousers. After kneeling either side of the yellow streak of snow, I lined myself up against her burning warmth. I teased the entrance a bit before sinking deep into her. It was heaven, pure bliss and I moaned in unrestrained pleasure as I bottomed out.
'Oh Celestia! This feels so naughty ! She gasped
As I began thrusting slowly, I reached around and began stroking her inner thighs, causing her to shiver and spread her legs wider. I became lost in the sensation of her warm wetness hugging my penis as we made love in the snow. With each thrust I felt her clit wink, rubbing the underside of my shaft, causing us both to experience a brief up-tick of arousal. All too soon I felt the familiar tightness in my lower abdomen, and the tingling sensation on my glans that told me I was close to orgasm. I made a few more frenzied thrusts and then, with a bestial groan, I buried myself deep into her and shot my seed in almost a continuous discharge. Finally it ended, and I slumped over Winters' back.
It wasn't too long before I slipped out of her, and the cold reasserted itself. I reached down with my gloveless right hand and put my kindling limb back in the protecting warmth of my pants and jeans. Looking down I noticed that to no great surprise, I had ended up kneeling in the yellow snow.
'Winter, I don't know about you, but I'm cold and wet. Let's say you and I have a nice, warm bath?'
'S-suits m-me. We Pegasi may be able to cope with the cold, but my fur is soaking wet, and I'm chilled to the bone!' she replied, teeth chattering with the cold
We went inside and breathed a sigh of relief as the warmth of the fireplace and central heating washed over us. The Bathroom itself was even warmer, having underfloor heating, because the worst thing in the early morning is waking to use the toilet and stepping from warm carpet onto cold tiles. I stripped off my soiled clothes and turned the tap on. Before too long, our large, free-standing bath was full, and we could climb in. I went first, and Winter followed, slipping between my legs. We sat there for a while, feeling the warmth seep into every nook and cranny of our bodies.
'This is nice.' Winter murmured, nuzzling into my chest
'Yeah, very nice.' I replied languidly, gently stroking the fur on her chest and belly. Ever so slowly my hands drifted to her teats. Her breath caught in her throat as I began tweaking the nipples.
'Mark, no!' She whined
'No? Something tells me you don't mean that.' I replied cheekily.
She gave a theatrical sigh, and spread her hind legs.
'All right, but lets take it slow this time.'
'That's fine by me.' I replied as I slid myself back into her
For the next fifteen minutes, we made love with me gently flexing my hips and her squeezing in rhythm from base to tip. By the time the water had become lukewarm, we were both on the edge of orgasm, and so with a final thrust and grind we both came, splashing some water over the rim as we reached our peaks. Being the gentleman that I am, I got out first and wrapped her in a soft fluffy white towel as she got out after me. As usual I dressed much quicker than her, being in my pyjamas while she was still rummaging through her draws.
'Do you want a hand?' I asked politely
'No, I'm fine. I would like a cup of hot chocolate though.' she replied
Getting the hint, I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. By the time it had started to whistle, she entered tightly wrapped in her dressing gown.
'Go sit down love, I'll bring your mug to you in the lounge.' I said as I poured the water into the mugs
'Thanks sweetie!' she replied brightly
When I placed the mug on the coffee table she reached forward and kissed me on the lips.
'What did I do to deserve that?' I asked
'As if you didn't know!' she giggled
Later, as we sat by the fire, eating our favourite snacks and reminiscing about the past few years, the topic of what to call the foal or foals we hoped to have in 10 months time.
'Well I'd like it if at least one of my foals has an affinity for snow like I do. Not that I'd love them any less, but it would be nice to be able to pass on my passion to the next generation.' Winter said
'I can understand that. I'd like a child that wants to take up calligraphy. But if I'm honest, all I hope for is another healthy foal. If I've learnt anything in life, it's that you never know what's going to happen, so cherish the small things.'
Winter let out a contented sigh, and nuzzled against me before slowly slipping into a contented slumber into which I followed her. By the time we awoke it was a little after three, and the sun was setting, so we decided to eat the vegetable quiche her mother had brought round with her that morning.
By nightfall we were both raring to go again, so we moved to our bedroom, where Winter gave me quite a surprise! She casually took off her dressing gown to reveal quite a daring set of lingerie underneath.
'Do you like it?' she asked, doing a little spin, and flagging her tail to show off her silk-clad rump
'Rarity said that any male who saw this would go wild with desire.'
I paused, unsure of what to say. She was was wearing a red camisole with matching underwear – bra included. The shear silk was incredibly form fitting, to the extent that I could clearly see the outline of her vagina and anus. The sight of a pony camel-toe caused my mind to go blank and my throat to seize up, so I had to swallow hard before answering her.
'She wasn't wrong! It's taking all my restraint to resist just pouncing on that bed, pinning you down and having my wicked way with you!'
'Don't hold back on my account. You have my full permission to ravish me!' she answered
She then rolled onto her side, spread her hind leg, to reveal that the nipples of her teats were threatening to poke right through the fabric, and the gusset of her pants was slowly darkening. Needing no further invitation, I disrobed, and literally jumped onto the bed. What followed was a literal night of passion; from then until dawn, we must of made love at least five or six times. By the time her parents dropped Foggy and Moonbeam back this afternoon, we had notched up another four rounds. Only time will tell if Winter will become a mother again this time. I hope she is.
