Her Human

by kildeez

Rating: mature
Tags: Human, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Romance, Sex
Length: 10158

All Twinkle knew was that she was in the dark, and the humans had taken the castle...thank Celestia...

Twinkle wanted nothing to do with her family or the atrocities they committed in the name of unicorn supremacy, choosing instead to go through life in a sort of haze. But when she finally found a kindred spirit that lifted the numb curtain she'd draped over her heart, she paid the ultimate price. Now, chained in the dungeons and left in the dark with the same family that put her there, she reflects on the events that led them all to their greatest heights...and eventually, to their greatest fall.

Mature Tag for mature subject matter and descriptions, no real clop here.

Cover commissioned from the lovely Storypony, go check her out!

Published 2017-09-27 18:40:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-12-13 17:13:13 UTC

Just a Human and Her Unicorn

All Twinkle knew for certain was that she was in the dark, and the humans had retaken the castle.

She had been in the dark for a while, both literally and metaphorically. If she wanted to wax poetic, she could say she had been in the dark for most of her adult life. They had left Equestria behind, her mother claiming they were escaping the “stifling oppression of the sun-bitch” the day her family stepped through the portal accompanied by their loyal soldiers. Just the memory of those words made Twinkle cringe. Celestia had been nothing but a kind, thoughtful ruler; this wasn’t about some offense on the Princess’s part. This was about the Princess’s ability to block anything and everything the nobility did, even though it only happened when a proposal might defund a “useless” orphanage or two to pay for one of her father’s or uncle’s nights of debauchery downtown. The idea of having to work in the dark for their funds and of somepony (a mare, no less!) sitting so much higher than the rest of them just would not sit well with the family. That they themselves had so much power already seemed to be a side note.

Still, Twinkle was not stupid. Despite what her brothers said, her silence was not a sign of naiveté. She was not surprised when the family went to such lengths as to find other worlds that they could cow, and then be free to rule as they wished. She was not surprised that the slight offense of having a mare standing above them - a mare who was even entertaining thoughts of peace and unity with the “featherbrains” and “mud-ponies”- was enough to send the stallions of the family to spend hours in the basement, studying, experimenting, wiling their lives away before ancient tomes. She was slightly surprised the day her uncle emerged from the basement with a wild-eyed look on his face accompanying the week’s worth of stubble, announcing that they had done it, that they would be leaving for their new lives within a week. And finally, she was not surprised when she showed up in the basement at the start of “moving day” to find three mares shackled spread-eagle to stones in the basement, crying for their lives as ancient runes were carved into their flesh, their blood dribbling down the stones to collection trays that ran to a basin in the center of the room. She was utterly disgusted, but not surprised. Nor was she disappointed to see the depths her family had sunken to. She would have needed to have expectations or belief in them for disappointment.

She trembled and leaned back, her shackles rattling, much to her dismay.

“Up already, whore?” Her brother growled from the next cell.

She sighed. She had hoped being forced together like this might mellow her brother out, give him some time to think about the events of the past years, eventually give her somepony she could talk to. Instead, he had launched back into the insults of their youth, the same he’d loved to hurl her way whenever the nannies’ backs were turned; and if he was mellowing any, his voice was apparently going to be the last to go. “Not today,” she sighed. “Just one day’s rest, can’t I have that?”

“Rest is for true noble-born ponies, not traitorous little whelps who cast aside everything they’re supposed to stand for!”

She didn’t respond to that. She could have, though. She could have asked if they were supposed to stand for the murder of a castle’s entire staff, down to the children hiding in the cellar. She could have asked if they stood for murdering wailing young ones that had been cowering on the ground as their guards threw the doors open with magic and cut them down. She could have asked if they were supposed to stand for the pillaging of lands all around them, the demands for tribute that had left dozens of villages to starve so they could eat in luxury. She could have asked if they were supposed to stand for the enslavement of hundreds of humans, as had happened immediately upon their arrival. She could have asked if he personally stood for the regular rape of the enslaved staff: the prettiest mares (sorry, “women,” as they were called) uprooted from their homes to replace the former staff who just didn’t make it. She could have asked if it meant standing by with their heads bowed, whispering among themselves, trying to comfort each other as the wails of human children begging for scraps of bread echoed up to them from the streets, as she and her sisters did for weeks after the takeover.

She could have asked all of these things, but she didn’t, and eventually he was silent. Somehow, the silence was worse, as it left her with her thoughts. Those thoughts were rarely light or hopeful these days. They often turned to the tearful pleas of humans at their gates, to which she’d turned a deaf ear. The cries for food, for shelter from the cold, or for the release of their loved ones still haunted her, as she knew she deserved. Had she not sipped wine at the opulent banquet table with the rest of them for weeks on end? And had she not partaken in the “deflowering” of a few of the castle’s younger staff when her father had offered them up as gifts? Had she not watched passionlessly, her heart cold and numb while her brothers cheerfully strapped women down to tables, watching with blank eyes as humans were stretched until limbs broke, or flayed alive, or roasted over open pits?

She shook her head, wrenching her eyes shut against the tears, trying to block out the weeks where she had done nothing but sit there and stay numb, where she’d sat in her ivory tower with the rest of the family. The time until She had been chosen for the castle’s staff.

They had ridden out in a horse-drawn carriage for some “replacements” on the castle staff. She hadn’t wanted to go, of course, wanted no part in enslaving another human to the life of misery and pain that would be their existence in the castle they’d stolen, but her father had insisted. Her birthday had been around the corner, and he thought it was high time she chose a personal handmaiden, one to attend to her needs now that she’d outgrown her nannies. Those needs were meant to be of a sexual type as well, but he hadn’t needed to say so, and he didn’t.

She had been a dirt-covered, shaved-head little thing, rags barely clinging to her skinny frame, mud coating her arms. Twinkle’s glance over her had paused to give a pitying look, but then the human had looked up. And glared. That glare, so full of fire, so packed with defiance—

“That one,” Twinkle had said. Neither she nor the girl had done much of anything as their guards picked the girl up, shackling her wrists and ankles and tossing her unceremoniously into the cart. Her father had glared disapprovingly. Obviously, she was supposed to choose some young stallion to put her on the same path as her mother and older sisters, but in the end he had turned away with a huff, just glad she had chosen someone.

In her cell, Twinkle smiled, the guilt from those first few months of misery chased away by the memory of meeting Her. Seeing Her face for the first time, washing off the months of dirt on Her splotchy, yet smooth skin, laying Her down in a bed and seeing a contented smile flicker across Her face, though the bed was little more than a servant’s cot. These were the memories that kept Twinkle warm in the dark. Even if their first time had been so far from what either of them had wanted.

She closed her eyes, and it was that day again. She had woken up, washed herself as usual, then gone to the next room to awaken her handmaiden. Except her handmaiden wasn’t there. In a panic, she’d flown down the stairs, heading for the banquet hall at a dead gallop. She’d been trying to calm herself enough so she could ask her brothers if they’d seen her handmaid, and if so, might she be retrieved from whatever torture dungeon they’d prepped for her, but her father’s voice from one of the great antechambers stopped her mid-gallop.

Twinkle had paused, then slowly ambled into the large chamber, pushing the doors open, her stomach twisting. Her handmaiden was in the middle of the room, stark naked, hands shackled behind her back, a heavy collar on a short chain keeping her bowed over. She glanced up at Twinkle, same dead look in her eye as the day before. Her father looked up at her and smiled, a dribble of watery semen spilling on the floor as he stood.

“Twinkle, my daughter,” he announced. “It’s a wonderful day! Today, you’re going to break in your first human!”

His face had been all smiles, pride, and cheer, but his voice was powerful, authoritative, informing her this was how things were going to be, without any room for arguing. She’d felt herself nod, that old, numbing ice coating her heart again as her father strode to the rack of “toys” mounted to one of the walls, hauled up from one of her brothers’ dungeons.

One hour. One hour of whipping the girl’s flanks raw and grabbing her head and forcing her face into her marehood and trying not to cum as she violated this girl from behind with a strap-on and cumming anyway. After that one miserable hour, Twinkle looked into her handmaiden’s face, saw little more than that cold ice, and wondered if she’d ever see that contented smile from the other night again.

The moment her father left, Twinkle unlocked her handmaiden’s shackles and sent her back to her chambers, then spent the rest of the day avoiding said chambers, hunting for every excuse to stay downstairs. Eventually, night fell, and she begrudgingly returned to her bed once more.

Her handmaiden was waiting for her.

Twinkle turned, ready to give her teeth a third brushing, but the woman’s voice stopped her: “Why do you do everything they tell you to?”

Twinkle paused, turned in the doorway, said nothing. The human watched her with steely, green eyes: not cold, not warm, just blank. They sent a shiver up Twinkle’s spine that started in her marehood.

They sat there, looking at one another in silence. It took nearly five minutes to reply. “Because I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” the woman replied. “Sometimes more options are available, sometimes less, but there’s always a choice.”

“You didn’t have a choice when my father dragged you downstairs this morning.”

“But I can choose how it affects me, and how I carry myself from this point forward,” the human tilted her head. “You have even more choices. Far more than most, but you’ve let fear close them off to you.”

Twinkle shook her head, her mane bobbing in the darkness. “It’s not that simple…”

“Why?”

“My father…” she trailed off, corrected herself. “My whole family. As bad as you think they are, they’re worse. But they’re all I have.”

“Are they? You have your health. You have your sanity.”

“Because of them!”

“Or in spite of them?”

Twinkle paused, then silently closed the door behind her. They talked well into the night, deep into the earliest hours of the morning. As the sun rose, Twinkle had leaned forward and kissed the human. The human kissed back. And then they made love for the first time.

In the dungeon, Twinkle’s heart glowed. The taste of Her Human, the touch of Her Human, the smell of Her Human. No, not quite right, not her human, the human had always belonged to herself. The family had merely shackled her body, and Twinkle was the only one to be given that body willingly, both that night and many more to come.

Days after were filled with secret walks in the woods outside the castle walls. The human had many times to run then, but if she ever did, it was only to scoop up a tulip or some other pretty thing to weave into Twinkle’s mane. That last day had been no different, but for the human’s demonstration of her species’ apparent lack of regard for personal safety. This came when Twinkle had paused, gazing straight up at a particularly-lovely tree blossom. It bloomed, flourishing among a series of dead twigs, a shock of rosy pink rising up despite the death and stagnation around it. It was perfect for Her Human, and she paused to focus on it. Unfortunately, the flower was at least twenty feet up and nestled within a dense series of twigs, too far away for her to practice her magic with any accuracy. The first try only netted her a scattering of dry twigs, as did the second. Discarding the bundles with a huff, she focused all her magic, her teeth gritting and her brow straining as she yanked on the bunch with all her might. The branch next to the blossom promptly snapped and rocketed at her, like a javelin. She was too shocked by the sudden break in strain too move or throw up a shield, the knotted spear rocketing at her like an arrow on the battlefield.

Suddenly, Twinkle was looking up at the sky. She blinked, and was only just aware of the warm mass wrapped around her body as her head spun. She tried to sit up, only to get a mouthful of Her Human’s rough, strawberry-blonde mane, and at last she felt the scratchy cotton of Her Human’s dress rubbing against her coat. Finally piecing together what happened, Twinkle inhaled deeply, dragging in the scent of Her Human.

“Well, that was rather silly of me,” Twinkle giggled. “Who needs assassins firing arrows at you in the dark when you can do the job for them?”

“Idiot,” Her Human cursed, but planted a kiss on the side of Twinkle’s neck. “You nearly got yourself killed, and for what?”

“Nothing important,” Twinkle sighed, but the woman had already turned where she lay, glaring up through the foliage until her narrowed eyes finally spotted the pink splotch amidst the gray and brown above them.

Her Human cocked an eyebrow, then looked back to Twinkle. “That’s what you want?”

Twinkle huffed. “It was, but not if it’s gonna kill me.”

And then, Twinkle saw the old fire in Her Human’s eyes. The one she’d fallen in love with what seemed like ages ago, but was really only a few months. “Wait,” the woman said, standing up and turning with a determined stride, targeting the tree trunk itself.

“Oh no…dearest!?” Twinkle gasped, sitting up. “Dear, please, it’s not worth—“

But Her Human had already wrapped her body around the tree, beginning her upward journey with a nimbleness only Twinkle would have guessed at, and only because of the many nights the human had used said nimbleness in the bedroom. By the time Twinkle had galloped to within range of the human she was already halfway up the trunk: too far for magic to be useful without risk to the human herself.

“Dearest! Get back down here, right now!” The unicorn huffed, but she was ignored, the only response from the human a series of strained grunts and huffs as she climbed to the branch holding the flower. “Dear! Ugh, I swear! This is why I debate putting you in chains when we go on these walks!”

“Next time, love, okay?” The human grinned sultrily down at her, and all too suddenly Twinkle was aware of how perfectly her crude, cotton dress hugged her well-toned curves. “Don’t worry, I know it’s my turn to be the sub, and will happily oblige.”

Twinkle’s entire upper body flushed a bright red. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” She shouted, not sounding nearly as angry as she was trying to be. The human didn’t even acknowledge her this time, instead focusing on clambering out along the branch, the blossom closing within reach. Still, Twinkle persisted: “I said get down! Now!” No response. “Before you hurt yourself, please!”

But the human was finally within arm’s reach of the cursed blossom, and already grasping for it. With each testing grab that fell short, she shimmied along the branch a little further, until finally her fingertips brushed along the petals. Twinkle could only watch silently, holding her breath without even realizing, only releasing it when the human firmly grasped the flower and yanked it free, holding it up with a victorious shout.

And of course, that was the exact moment the branch itself snapped free.

The human didn’t shout or scream as she fell, instead she just let out a surprised yelp, the same sort of exhalation one would expect from someone if a squirrel suddenly sprang from a bush and into their path, or at walking into a dark room and having all their friends and family rocket into view, wishing them a happy birthday. For her part, Twinkle felt more panic course through her body, but this time she remained focused. The moment Her Human cleared the worst of the branches and plummeted into free air, Twinkle’s magic lashed out, cushioning the human and slowing her fall, but not stopping her. Before she even realized what she was doing, Twinkle threw herself beneath Her Human, letting the larger woman fall onto her back with a loud thud.

They laid there, gasping, breathing until the adrenaline faded away. At last, still panting, Her Human sat up, holding the blossom up in Twinkle’s view. “Why…was this…important?” She asked.

Twinkle sighed. Up close, the blossom’s soft petals looked even more delectable than they had from afar, but now she could only blush at the stupidity of nearly killing both herself and the love of her life over it. “It’s not,” she groaned, burying her muzzle in her hooves. “I just thought it reminded me of you, is all...”

There was a pause. “Of me?”

“A…a flower blooming, defiant against the gray and death around it.” The words felt corny as they left her muzzle, but she still nuzzled into Her Human’s hand as it was caressed along her neck, the human giving a short chortle.

A moment later, the flower was weaved into her own mane, just like many before it. Her Human twisted, laying on the ground directly facing Twinkle with a large smile on her face. “I think it’s a better fit for you.”

Twinkle could only shake her head and return the smile. “You idiot, risking your neck for something so pointless?” She asked, even as she mentally cleared a space on top of her dresser for the flower, right next to the water lily Her Human had almost drowned for and the bit of honeycomb they’d had to flee a colony of bees for.

“For you, nothing is pointless,” and then Her Human kissed her, closing the slight distance between them with her lips. Twinkle was only too happy to reciprocate.

The love making that day had been spectacular, even better than that secret night on the first day. Yet in the darkness of the cell, Twinkle’s smile faltered. This was also the day it all went wrong.

The moment they set foot in the castle, Her Human was taken by the guards, restrained hand and foot, led off in a collar. It had happened so fast, Twinkle hadn’t had a chance to react. The moment she was out of sight, however, Twinkle galloped to her father’s throne, begging to know why her servant had been captured.

Her father smiled, and complimented her on her wily choice.

Her father informed her she was the last surviving member of the royal family, the very family they had thought exterminated on their first day of conquest.

Her father informed her that thanks to that one little decision on the day they’d ridden out, they could snuff out the last remnant of the old human dynasty, and further cement their hold over the “little barbarians.”

Her father informed her that she, Her, her handmaiden, her slave, her love, the light of her life, Her Human, was going to be publicly executed the next morning.

Twinkle walked back to her room in a daze, unable to process any of what she’d just learned. The tears didn’t start flowing until she was on the stairs, which devolved into sobbing, and by the time she reached her room, she was wailing, using the silken pillows to stifle the sounds. The only creature to ever love her was in the dungeons, awaiting execution…

Twinkle opened her eyes again, drinking in the inside of her cell as she had a thousand times over. Every crack in the stone, every patch of peat moss, every dribble of water. Was this the same fate her family had condemned so many to? Was this damp, cold, dark place that same hell? If so, good. May they all rot together down here, never seeing the sun again. Served them right for the crimes they’d carried out in the name of their idiotic unicorn supremacy, and served her right for watching and doing nothing while they carried out those horrors. Still, she just wished Her Human might come back, just for a night. Surely, she deserved just that? One last touch? One last kiss? Just like they’d shared that night...

That last night, when she’d realized she would rather die than stand idly by anymore, especially with the only love she’d ever known at stake. Amazingly, getting into the dungeons was a thing of simplicity, as was getting out again. None of the loyal guardstallions even questioned her when she walked downstairs. What hadn’t been so simple was holding down the urge to retch at the stench inside the dungeons.

Her brothers never had been much for tidying up, apparently that went double for their “playrooms.” The walls were caked with dried blood, coating the shackles stapled every few yards, the nickel scent of it mixing with the stench of old urine. It congealed around a drain in the floor, which itself was rendered useless by a ring of matted hair mixed with chunks of bone and shaky bits of flesh.

Her Human was shackled to the wall, hands suspended over her head, naked. Her vagina dripped with the leavings of her brothers, and her gorgeous face looked bloody and bruised, her lip swelling up, eyes covered by sweaty tendrils of hair. It took all of Twinkle’s strength to stride across the room, recently-vacated by her brothers to attend the nightly banquet, and slowly unlock her lover’s hands to gently lay them at her sides.

It was only after she brushed a lock of hair to the side that she realized they’d gouged out one of her eyeballs.

After a quick kiss and whispered reassurance, Twinkle managed to get her lover to her feet, where she promptly cuffed her hands behind her back and locked a heavy iron collar around her neck. Then, wrapping her naked body in a cloak, Twinkle led them both out of the castle, past mostly-drunk sentries, and right out the gaping front gates. She couldn’t help a disgusted sneer across her muzzle as she walked outside, wondering how her family hadn’t been overthrown yet with such a moronic bunch watching their flanks.

Outside the castle, deep in the woods they had known for so long, Twinkle settled on a stump. Her Human, a patch tied over her gaping eye socket, sank to her knees, then leaned on Twinkle’s shoulder. Twinkle spent a few minutes stroking her hair, running a hoof over her face, then pulled out the keys. The woman shook her head. Twinkle’s eyebrows hunched, confused. The woman gave Twinkle a harsh shove, and with a cry, Twinkle fell over. Before she could even demand what this joke was for, the woman was straddling her, tears welling in her remaining eye.

Twinkle kissed the tears away, and they made love one more time.

She didn’t want to relive the memories of what happened next, but it happened anyway. She returned to the castle, tucking herself into bed, and faced a guard’s spear the moment she laid her head on her pillow. There was a trial held in the wee hours of the morning, her father glaring down at her from the pulpit while her mother read aloud a long list of charges. Her horn was painfully sawn off after she was led out of the courtroom in chains, and immediately after a quick bandaging she was led down to this, her home for the last three months.

A unicorn guard came in every other day to inspect her horn and shave off any traces of growth. It was the closest thing to contact with another living creature she had known since being thrown down here. Besides that, the slat at the base of her cell door was opened twice per day: once in the morning, once at night, each time disgorging the same bowl of lumpy, cold oatmeal. The only change in scenery came from the room’s single barred window, which opened up on the banquet hall. This was covered by wooden slats that were opened three times a day for the breakfast, lunch, and dinner banquets. There, the delicious smells of the feast her family had prepared for themselves could waft into the cell, overpowering her senses as she forced another lumpy mouthful of oatmeal down her throat. She hadn’t even tried calling to anypony though, not even once. There was only one person on the outside she had any interest in talking to, and hopefully they were off starting a new life somewhere.

She learned about the rebellion during a dinner banquet a couple weeks into her imprisonment. It was mentioned in passing: a loyal human governor had been found stabbed to death in his bed, and the township he had ruled in the family’s name had risen up, renouncing any ties with the crown and proclaiming themselves free of pony rule. Her father regarded the affair with the same concern he’d reserve for a slight draft in his room, in between sips of wine and talk about possible tax hikes for this village or that region, and soon the chat about a “demonstration of power for the stupid monkeys” became compliments for the chef that night.

Two nights later, she heard about an unruly mob that had broken into a town hall, ransacked the building, murdered the loyal humans, and strung all who opposed them up on poles on the road leading into town. Her father had remarked that this was slightly concerning, seeing as most of their guards hadn’t returned from cowing the first town yet, but her brother put in that the family could wait for their return. “Let the monkeys have their fun for a little while,” he scoffed, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief. “They’ll exhaust themselves soon enough, and will probably welcome the return to order once our guards arrive. We have enough food here to live with a couple mudholes refusing tribute.”

Her father laughed to show his assent, and the conversation returned to a possible postponement of riding out for new slaves. “Just until this bit of silliness ends and the humans remember their place,” the old stallion scoffed in between bites of caviar. “We can double the tribute to make up for these delays.”

And in the darkness of her cell, Twinkle had smiled.

The next day, in the middle of lunch, two guards returned from the first village. The rest, nearly half the guardstallions the family had brought with them to this world, were dead, or worse. The guards informed them that they’d come upon an empty village, only to be surprised by a sudden attack from a mob of human swordsmen. By the time the attack was put down and the humans either dead or in chains, a couple ponies had been killed. Survivable losses, but losses nonetheless. Then, after burning the village and beginning the long trek home, the soldiers found their steps hounded by archers and swordsmen who would appear from the woods, make a running slash at somepony’s neck or take a couple shots at their faces, then duck off into the darkness before anypony could react. The ponies’ numbers had slowly dwindled, any attempt to stop for rest hounded by running attacks or lightning-quick jabs that oftentimes only bloodied noses, but slowed them down, made some of their number lag behind to be picked off by a well-placed shot or a stab from the darkness. All without any reprieve or rest.

By the second night, their commander had begged the humans to let them go on their way. The only response was a crossbow bolt in his eye socket.

Finally, her father said it was time to take this seriously. He rallied their remaining guards and gathered her brothers, who joked about the fun they were about to have, guessing at how many women they would take for themselves so loudly that Twinkle could hear them even with the window slats shut. Their confidence wasn’t totally unwarranted. A quick show of power had always worked before, why wouldn’t it here?

Her father, three of her brothers, and a handful of guards came galloping back to the castle three days later, with an army at their hooves. They immediately set to work on a shield, and heaved a sigh of relief as the humans first electrocuted themselves trying to hammer on it with their fists, then started lobbing rocks from their siege machines, the deafening booms of each projectile slamming against them filling up the castle occupants’ days and nights.

Her father tried to reassure them all at the funerary banquet held that night that this was a temporary setback at most. That they could outwait the monkeys. That soon, they would fall to fighting among themselves, and order would be restored.

“You’re all going to die, and you deserve it,” Twinkle had said from her cell, surprised that her voice was still strong enough to echo off the walls after such a long period of disuse. The family fell quiet and turned to her cell. She simply sat back in the darkness. That night, one of the guards barged into her cell and raped her. It didn’t last long. The contented smile she wore the entire time put him off, and he left after less than an hour.

Over the following weeks, her father repeated himself over and over that the humans could not keep this up, that they would fall to infighting and the ponies would be free to rule as they once had, even as the days passed and his mane became more disheveled, even as the weeks went by and more of the staff rebelled, one of her remaining brothers dying at the hands of his own maid.

In the end, it was simple math. Every day, the rebels burnt and destroyed every cart that left the castle in an attempt to gather supplies. Every day, the rocks and blazing fireballs crashed against the shields, keeping them up at night. Every day, the food stores inside the castle grew smaller and smaller. The lavish banquets went from three a day to just one, then became more like lavish meals, then even those dwindled to nothing.

Soon, there were no more humans left in the castle, having rebelled or taken their own lives rather than continue serving. Twinkle thought not restraining some had been a stupid move. Her family might have been able to use the human staff as shields or hostages to delay the inevitable a while longer, but then they’d never been the best at long-term planning. Good thing too, the food might have lasted a few more months if they had been.

By the third month of her imprisonment, the shield, weakened by her family’s failing state and hunger-induced delirium, finally started cracking. The next day, the cracks were fissures, then holes, and finally the whole thing shattered in a spectacular blast of magical feedback that shook Twinkle even in her cell. She hoped it hurt. She heard magical feedback did, in fact, hurt, but she hoped it really hurt. The humans poured in, the ensuing “battle” with their fanatic, well-supplied army as one-sided as the initial battle the ponies had used to take the castle, ending with the remains of her family led in chains to join her in these dungeons. While she wasn’t too happy about having to spend even more time with them, knowing that they were finally paying for their evil was more than enough for her.

She sighed, looking to the barred window. A human guard had peeked in at her while literally dragging her mother to a cell down the hall, his eyes widening when he saw a pony down here of all things, but besides that she’d had no contact with the outside since the castle had fall... since the humans had taken back what was theirs. There were constant tears and sniffles from her mother’s and sisters’ cells, and even her brother’s, but they were little comfort to her. A part of her wished she could go comfort them, another part reveled in the fact that they were living at least a little bit of the hell they’d been putting the humans through, and the rest of her knew that if she actually could go comfort them, they would likely turn away or strike her just to keep from being touched by her “traitorous” hooves.

Following her brother’s abuse, the dungeon’s door swung open, as it had the last couple of days. Each time another member of the family was dragged off kicking and screaming, and a short while later she heard a deafening roar from a crowd gathered in the castle commons. It didn’t take much to figure out why the ponies taken this way were never seen again, and the first night it happened the wailing from the other cells had intensified. Twinkle pressed an ear to her cell’s door, not sure if she was concerned about which family member would be taken next or just curious, but then her own door fell away from her ear with a loud clank.

Slowly, she looked up, gazing at the heavy leather boots of the human before her, a heavy metal helm and chainmail wrapping their massive frame. She sighed as if it were six months ago and she’d just learned there was no more cinnamon for her traditional bowl of morning oatmeal. “My turn?” She asked in a voice raspy with disuse.

The towering figure nodded, their armor grinding.

She didn’t fight as her old shackles were finally unlocked, only to be immediately replaced with new ones, nor did she fight the collar that was locked around her neck. She held her head high and trotted out of the dungeons, leading the guard rather than being led. At the very least, she would show her family she could die with more dignity than any of their “pure” stock.

“The whore’s getting it!” Her brother called from his cell. “Hey, everyone! It’s the traitor’s turn!”

“Serves her right!” One of her sisters shouted.

“I hope they beat some sense into her skull before they lob it off!” Another sister put in.

Her parents were noticeably silent, but she could feel their glares through the cell doors as she passed. She didn’t so much as spare them a glance, even knowing they couldn’t see her with their magic cut off and the cell doors locked. She just kept trotting ahead, figuring she was heading for the commons.

She thought of Her Human, her love, trying to lock the woman in her mind’s eye as she trotted. The door to the courtyard loomed high. She took a steadying breath, her hooves shaking, but she kept trotting. She would die without tearful pleading or begging, she would show the humans that at least one of the family was capable of meeting their end with dignity. But she could allow just one tear in knowing she would never caress Her body again, never hold Her through a night, never share another secret tryst in the woods again.

The door to the outside loomed. She made as if to open it, but a gentle yank on her leash dragged her from it. Startled, she fell on her back, now looking up into the dark visor of the human guard. The guard gazed back at her, then turned to the side and continued walking down the hall. Twinkle laid there for a moment, stunned, but quickly rose to her hooves and trotted to keep up. “Where are we going?” She asked.

There was no answer, only silence from her captor. They continued trotting, her stomach twisting with nervous tension. What was this game? Some new form of execution they wanted to try out? They were heading deeper into the castle, were they planning to throw her from the highest parapet, perhaps with her head in a hangman’s noose? Or maybe she was bound for the kitchens: humans were omnivores, she might be slaughtered and served to the castle’s masters for dinner that night. Oh, if that were the case she hoped her throat might be slit, she couldn’t imagine being burned alive in one of the great ovens!

They reached the grand staircase. The parapets it was. She sighed, the trembling worsening while she climbed, still unbidden. She reached the upper floor, crossing the tiled hallway to the next set of stairs, but again, a tug at the leash reined her back. Obviously, she was not doing a good job at predicting her fate, best let her captor do it for her. The human led her along the hall with a single gloved hand on her leash, past the dozens of bedrooms her family had occupied during their rule, until finally reaching her own.

The human stopped, pulled out a key, and unlocked the door, waving her in. Twinkle obeyed, finding everything in her chambers exactly as it was. The various knick-knacks from her childhood sat preserved, untouched alongside the magically-preserved flora Her Human had gathered for her, despite the castle’s occupation.

The guard pointed to the bed. Twinkle’s ears drooped. So it was to be rape, then. Very well.

Still holding her head high, she climbed up, her legs trembling so badly she nearly fell, but she managed. She laid on the bed, totally limp as the chain around her neck was wrapped around one of the bed posts and padlocked in place. She bit her lip as the shackles were undone again, adjusted, and then reattached, this time keeping her forehooves behind her back, her hind hooves locked to a spreader bar to force them open, leaving her marehood totally exposed. Her gaze hardened and she lifted her chin. Best face things with dignity.

It took a few moments, but she managed to turn herself over until she was looking up at her captor. She glared, even as tears dribbled to the covers behind her head. “Well?” She asked. “Go on. Get it over with so we can keep things moving along.”

The human said nothing, then an odd, tinny chortle sounded from inside their mask. One of Twinkle’s ears perked. She knew that chortle, warped and twisted by the mask as it was. She’d heard that little melody lying beneath it a dozen times over, in between romps through the wilderness and passionate kisses beneath canopies of trees. It couldn’t be…could it…

“Sorry, love,” Her Human said as she removed the mask, smiling down at her, glowing despite the ornate eyepatch covering one socket. “I know you’re impatient when you play the sub, but it is my turn to be the dom.”

Were it not for the chains, Twinkle would have thrown herself at the human. Instead, she forgot herself in her excitement, tried to sit up, and only fell back uselessly in her chains. Her Human giggled and pressed her down, straddled her form, then cradled Twinkle’s chin in one hand and kissed her full on the lips.

Twinkle spent the rest of the day in those chains. She really didn’t mind.

After

There were few places of more misery than the dungeons beneath the castle after Twinkle had left. Her presence had at least given the ponies inside an excuse to use their voices, if only to berate her for her treason. Since she’d been taken up top, however, the only indications that the ponies were still alive had been the occasional sob. Not even the forced march of another pony being taken to their execution had taken place since that day, meaning the only interaction the prisoners got with the outside world was the two bowls of rotted oatmeal they got a day, along with the occasional horn-shaving. The stink of desperation hung in the air without even that mild airing-out, mixing with the growing dank of urine, feces, and sweat; all feeding into various diseases, most of them physical, some of them not.

The sobs slowly pealed into occasional fits of laughter. With the echo provided by the heavy stone walls, it was almost impossible to tell who it was, but Mrs. Shine (formerly Queen Shine) had a pretty good guess that it was her husband. They hadn’t even been allowed to share a cell, the damned human barbarians forcing them to separate. Not that she’d been particularly close to her husband before, had even gone so far as to give him the silent treatment for their first few days of imprisonment for failing to protect them as he’d promised, but the solitude of the cells and the cold realization that her titles and noble-born blood were rendered worthless had done much to soften her attitude during their time in this hell.

The door at the top of the stairs swung open, and her ears perked. At first, she’d been ready to dismiss the sound as the guards stopping by to shove their regular bowls of glop posing as oatmeal in the slats under their doors. However, she heard something else accompanying the usual footsteps.

Hooves?

No…no, that wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be. The older mare rushed to the window, straining against her shackles and craning her neck just so, earning a small glance out into a tiny section of the hallway, still not enough to see any of the other cell doors but just enough to catch someone passing by. The footsteps drew nearer. The hoofclops on the stone walkway joined them. Soon, the pair were passing right by her door, and she saw…

She saw…

Ugh, no! Her sight was blocked by that big, bulky monster of a guard. But…maybe…just for a second…hadn’t she seen a dash of gray coat? Maybe a shock of pink mane? No, her time down here was making her see things. One of their guards must have turned traitor before the battle; that was it! It certainly explained how they fell eventually, the damned monkeys had gotten help from one of their own…besides the help she’d already known about, of course, from that thrice-damned Tartarus-spawn she no longer acknowledged as her daughter.

She snarled despite herself. “So, what was it that made you turn to the side of a bunch of uncivilized barbarians?” She asked snidely, loud enough for everyone in the lower levels to hear. “They promise to make you a duke in their so-called ‘kingdom’? Is that all it took?”

The hoofsteps paused, the footsteps following a second later. She heard the shuffling of hooves, and then they approached. She smirked. Perfect. She had hoped to get a rise out of the little traitor, now today might not be so boring after –

“Love.” Came a voice that was only too familiar.

Shine’s jaw dropped. It couldn’t be…she was dead! The humans had cut off her traitorous, whorish head! It had been the one good thing to happen the entire time she’d been locked down here! Unable to believe her ears, Shine perked them up and leaned forward, finding a few extra inches within her chains. “Wh-what was that?” She managed to croak.

She needn’t have bothered straining, as the pony on the other side of the door was only too happy to press her face up to the window. Sure enough, her daughter glared back at her, the older mare’s surprise such that she fell on her back, rattling her shackles once more.

“Love,” her begotten daughter clarified, baring her teeth, her eyes flaring with anger from beneath a small tiara inlaid with jewels. “Something you know nothing about, so I’m not surprised it never crossed your mind.”

And then she was gone. Just like that, the mare who Shine had convinced herself was absolutely and positively dead, was trotting off down the hallway again. The former queen laid there in shock, barely registering the creak of other cell doors being opened, or the wailing of her other daughters as they were dragged from their places of imprisonment. She barely even noticed as they were led right past her door, some of them calling out for her. She didn’t even move until the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut and all was quiet in the dungeon once more. Then, she finally curled up into a little ball on the floor of her cell and began to cry.

Twinkle marched past the ponies she used to know as her sisters, all holding their heads low, some of them crying, even.

“So, that’s the deal,” Twinkle bellowed. “As of right now, you are no longer nobles. You are members of the waitstaff. You will be provided for and cared for in ways befitting your ranks. You may have a chance at ascending within the ranks of your new class, but know this: you will never be nobility again. The Queen has decreed that no pony shall ever hold that rank so long as this castle stands. Your old lives are over. Your only chance right now is to accept your lots in life and move on with them. If that’s too hard for you and you see fit to set so much as a hoof out of line, I will not hesitate to throw you right back with the rest of your family. Am I being clear?”

Her sisters, submissive as had been drilled into them by years of their parents’ tyranny, all nodded.

“I asked if I was being clear!?”

“Yes, Advisor Twinkle,” the trio of ponies sounded back, ears folded low, eyes still on the floor.

Twinkle nodded. “Good,” she turned to leave the chamber. “The keys for your shackles are on the rack at the rear of the room, as well as your new uniforms. Report to the guard at the other side of the room for your first assignments.”

Twinkle stepped out before the other mares could move, closing the door firmly behind her, and almost immediately she collapsed. She dry-heaved on the tile for a moment, barely suppressing a sob as tears trickled down her snout. Finally, she pressed herself to her shaking hooves and galloped back to her chambers.

Her lover, her Handmaiden, her Queen, was waiting for her there, sprawled out on the bed and watching the door as she entered.

“That couldn’t have been easy,” the human said.

Twinkle shook her head, figuring there was no use lying with tears raining down her cheeks. “They were the only ones that were sometimes okay back…before,” she whimpered. “They were the only ones I could enjoy myself with without it being tinted by some rape, or murder, or an underhoofed plot against somepony else.”

The human turned on her side and spread her arms, her royal robes draping over the bed. Twinkle immediately dove into her grasp, nuzzling into those perfect breasts, only bringing her muzzle up to allow the occasional sob to escape. Her lover trailed her fingers through Twinkle’s mane, her placid smile slowly giving way to a concerned frown as the minutes ticked by and the tears didn’t stop. Still, she said nothing, did nothing the entire time, allowing Twinkle to compose herself.

When the pony’s tears finally stopped, she raised her muzzle out of her lover’s chest. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered, and the tears began anew. The human looked up at her, shock in her remaining eye, and the rest came spilling out: “The night after you liberated the second township, my family was talking about it, finally starting to take you seriously, and I knew. I knew they were doomed, so I said as much.” She sat up, wiping a curl of mane out of her eye. “I knew this was it, that you were finally gonna put an end to the madness, maybe even thought it was you, and I don’t know…I said as much. I just felt so…happy? Relieved? Whatever it was, I told them they were all gonna die and they sent a guard to…to…”

Twinkle’s massive eyes welled with tears, and a hoof covered her muzzle as she discovered she didn’t have it in her to continue. The human wrapped her in her embrace, pressing her close to her chest, rocking with her as she kissed her mane and the mostly-formed stub where her horn was still trying to grow back.

“I’m ruined for you,” Twinkle gasped. “A stallion took me, used me like his whore--”

“No, no…” the human whispered. “If anything, this is a testament to your strength. They cut you off from the entire world, and you still had it in you to defy them.”

“But I’m ruined for you now!” She moaned. “Somepony else has had me! Spoiled me! I’m just some whore who...”

“Don’t say that!” The human screeched, forcing Twinkle to look up and finally see the tears gathering in her red-rimmed eyes. The human sank to one knee, a hand caressing Twinkle’s cheek. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that,” she whispered. “”You’re not a whore, no more than I am.”

“Than you a-” Twinkle’s eyes widened with realization, something she’d always suspected but never dared to speak aloud.

The human smiled through tears, nodding. “Your father, that first night when he made you do it to me,” she said, her cheeks soaked now. “He didn’t just let me go when he let you leave, you know. Did you really think he’d have the decency to even do that much?”

Twinkle sniffled, shook her head. “Oh, oh my sweet Celestia, I can’t believe...it didn’t occur to me that...”

“I am not ashamed.” The Queen said, and despite the tears she gazed into Twinkle’s eyes with a piercing intensity. “I want you to know that. I just didn’t want you to fawn over me, think that you owed me anything because of something your father did. He’s done far worse: raping me is actually one of his lesser crimes.”

Twinkle opened her mouth to argue, but closed it when she realized she didn’t have an argument to make. Her father had been a monster and a tyrant, pure and simple. She could only sit there in awe of the human’s strength. So instead of arguing, she resolved to bury her face in her lover’s breasts again, nuzzling into her chest. “I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry…”

“Don’t be,” the human whispered, planting a kiss in Twinkle’s mane. “And no more tears, okay? You have a foal who needs that water now, a foal that’s going to be every bit as beautiful as its mother.”

Twinkle’s eyes misted up as a hoof reached down to clench at her stomach. Her mind reeled with the idea that one of those filthy piles of pond scum passing itself as a guard was going to live on in some way…

No.

Not if she had anything to say about it.

“He will be noble,” she said resolutely, her eyes glaring defiantly behind her tears. “He will be just, and loving, and a natural-born leader. And he will never know his father.”

The arms around her wrapped her that much more tightly. “And if it’s a filly?”

“Then she will be kind, thoughtful, and wise: every bit the leader you are,” she replied. “She may have his eyes or some other features, but that’s all they’ll share with the cruel, sadistic bastards who stepped through that portal.”

Another kiss landed in her mane, followed up with a hug. “Just like you.”

“No,” Twinkle insisted, smiling as she nuzzled once more into her human’s neck. “Better.”

Epilogue: Eight Years Later

Twinkle’s heart pounded in her chest. Her knees ached so much, they hurt so much lately…but she still pumped them, still kept running. Her breath came out in ragged gasps and wheezes, and a lot faster than it had ever come just a few years ago. Yet still, she didn’t give up, she refused to surrender. To surrender, to show weakness, before such a merciless being was tantamount to suicide.

“Artura Star!” She bellowed, and the pink blotch she could just barely see through the sweat clouding her vision danced just a little further ahead. “I-I’m coming to get ya!”

There was a high-pitched squeal, followed by a giggle. Twinkle gritted her teeth, partially in an ecstatic grin, more with effort. Her hooves raced through the grass. The little filly in front of her was fast, and getting faster by the day, but for now, Twinkle’s long adult legs still gave her the advantage: something she thanked whoever might be listening for as she bared down on the filly and, with a final burst of speed, snatched the giggling mass of fur up in her hooves.

“Wheeeeeeee!” The little pony giggled as she sailed above the field. “Higher mama, higher!”

Twinkle let out a long breath, steadying herself on her quaking knees. “S-sure thing, sweetie,” she gasped, letting in a long breath. “J-just let your mama rest real quick…”

“Awww….okay…” the little filly sighed, taking a seat on the grass facing her mama. “But don’t take too long this time!”

“Aheh…not for you, my little star,” Twinkle said with a barely-managed giggle that sounded more like a wheeze to her ears. The beginnings of a frown started on her face, but quickly faded as her vision cleared and she managed to lock eyes with the small, pink-coated, unicorn filly sitting across from her.

“Come now, Morning,” another voice soon joined in. The small filly’s ears folded into her strawberry-blonde mane and she turned to face the voice’s owner. The Queen strode up the tiny hill flanked by her sisters-in-law, one in a maid’s uniform, the other in a guard’s. Despite her stern voice, the Queen held a warm smile for both mares on the hill. “You know you shouldn’t be putting so much stress on your mother.”

“Y-yes, Auntie,” the little filly chimed in a way that had been practiced and rehearsed over countless dinners and surprise meet-ups.

“I can handle – I can…” Twinkle started, leaning over to scoop the little filly up, but evidently changed her mind and instead knelt in the grass. “Just need…a moment.”

“I’m sure,” the human chided. “Morning, dearest, did you want to go play in the gardens? We had some new snapdragons transferred from the southern districts. You can take Aunt Meadowshore with you.”

“S-sure…” the filly stood and trotted down the hill, her head low, avoiding the human’s gaze as the maid nodded to the royal couple before galloping up alongside the filly. When they were out of earshot, the pair sighed.

“Still afraid of me,” the Queen murmured.

“She’s a filly of a prey species, it’s only natural,” Twinkle shrugged. “Give her time.”

The Queen nodded, turning to the pony, who took one look into her lover’s eyes and realized instantly where this conversation was about to go. “Speaking of time,” the Queen said. “I think enough has passed to name you a real royal—“

She was caught by a burst of magic, Twinkle levitating off her hooves and hovering up to chest-height with the human. Startled, the Queen reacted as Twinkle released her magic, and plopped down into her arms. With a contented smile and a nod, Twinkle set to nuzzling against one of the Queen’s breasts, who sighed and allowed her lover a few minutes before leaning in close to plant a kiss on her lips.

As they broke the kiss, Twinkle held the Queen in place with her hooves. “You know why I can’t accept that,” she whispered. “You know how much pain my family caused. The nobles barely support our relationship. Hell, the debates raged for weeks just over making my sister a royal guard. I’d be surprised if half of them didn’t rebel upon you giving a pony any sort of real power.”

“Even the hero who saved their Queen’s life?”

Twinkle chuckled at the old bit of flattery as she planted a kiss on her Queen’s lips. “Even then. And let’s not forget you saved mine first, love.”

Her Human snorted. “That thing with the tree branch? When I got you that rose?” She waved a hand. “What you did was true bravery.”

Twinkle could only shake her head as she planted a kiss on her lover’s lips. “I meant before then. That night after…my father, er…”

“Raped me?” The Queen arched an eyebrow out of curiosity as Twinkle flinched. “What’re you talking abou-“

And then it hit her. She gazed into Twinkle’s massive, bright-blue eyes as the pony smiled back, tilting her head. “You impossible romantic,” she chuckled and planted another kiss on the mare’s lips, which was happily returned. “You chose me first.”

“And then you chose me,” Twinkle countered, continuing the game they had been playing for years now.

They remained like that for a while, wrapped up in one another’s embrace, enjoying the scent, the touch of each other even after all these years. The remaining mare with them said nothing, making no sound but the occasional shift of armor as she wheeled her head around to look for possible assailants. And still, Twinkle felt her eye drawn to that little garden, the same one her precious Star had just run off to with her aunt.

“You know,” she began, “that’s the same spot where their…”

A finger planted itself upon her lips as the Queen shushed her. “I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

Sometime later, the two ponies returned up the hill, the mare trudging with a small, finally-tired filly resting on her back. The royal couple smiled as Twinkle took her filly up in her magic. “What finally did it?” She whispered.

“Tag,” her sister giggled. “It’s always the surefire way.”

“Of course,” Twinkle sighed, nuzzling her daughter’s nose. The little filly muttered in her rest, brushed adorably at her tiny muzzle, then fell back to sleep as she came to rest on Twinkle’s back. “Come, I think our little midday stroll has gone on long enough.”

“Aye,” the lone human with the group grinned as she looked up at the setting sun. “Seems about right for timing.”

As they started their return journey back to the castle, Twinkle stumbled just slightly over a rock, jostling the filly. “Mom?” She asked.

Cursing her own klutziness, Twinkle smiled to the little filly on her back. “Yes, my little star?”

Still drowsy, still obviously on that border between sleep and wakefulness, the filly nuzzled in between Twinkle’s shoulder blades. “Whazzat wooden cover on the one side of the garden for?”

The air on the side of the hill suddenly grew stale, the tension practically radiating from the mares and the woman walking along. Twinkle thought she even saw her guardsmare-sister stumble for a second. The woman looked to her, brow furrowed in worry. Twinkle only smiled placidly and reached around to stroke her daughter’s mane. “Nothing you have to worry about, dear,” she whispered as her lover’s shoulders relaxed. “Nothing at all.”

As the filly drifted into deep sleep, a hand came to rest on Twinkle’s shoulder. “Something awful that became the foundation for a great city.” The Queen chimed, waxing poetic.

Twinkle smiled as she shook her head. “Camelot is great because of the choices you made and the actions you took, love.”

“Because of the actions we took, my dearest Twinkle.”

“However you want to look at it, my beloved Guinevere.”