Birds tweeted in through the barred windows to Featherweight's holding cell. The melody felt like freedom in song form, taunting him from the outside. He flipped faceup on his cot and held the rough pillow firmly over his head, wishing he could suffocate himself with it.
The sound of hoofsteps didn't budge him from where he lay, nor did the jangling keys and the creak of the door opening.
"I know you're my court-appointed lawyer but I have nothing to say to you," came the muffled voice from beneath the pillow.
The cell door shut and locked. "I'm not your lawyer, Featherweight," said the Princess of Friendship.
Featherweight removed the pillow and sat up, a curious look on his face. "Oh. Hello, Princess Twilight," he said. His eyes were red and puffy, and they refused to make contact with her face. "I'm going to guess you're not here to pardon me."
"Well... I'm here to talk," said Twilight Sparkle, her magical mane billowing behind her with the hues of the earliest shade of evening. "I'd like to understand a little more about your situation." She sat down on the cold floor of the jail cell so she could face him eye to eye on the bed, if only those sore eyes would face her back.
Featherweight huffed. "What's to understand?" he asked. "I was caught with foalnography. End of story. End of my stupid life."
"You were caught with pictures you took of yourself as a child," said Twilight. "This is an unusual case, legally speaking. You're the perpetrator on two counts—manufacture and possession—but you're also the victim."
"So should I pay myself restitution?" he joked. "What do you want from me?"
"It's not about what I want. It's about what serves the best interests of society," said Twilight. "The charges on manufacture have already been dropped, which is appropriate, but the possession is still a problem. I'd like to know why you never destroyed your pictures."
He shrugged. "I never destroy any of my pictures. That's not a 'why', though. It's just a habit."
Twilight sighed and gave a half-smile which Featherweight could glimpse out of the corner of his eye. "Featherweight, listen to me. As a somewhat reluctant princess, I understand how important it is to feel attractive to others. I can imagine that holding onto images of yourself as a handsome young colt, images you know some ponies would kill to see, would make you feel better about yourself. It isn't inconceivable—"
Featherweight looked Twilight Sparkle dead in the eye. "Stop."
Twilight leaned back in surprise. The young stallion's face had taken on a look of anger.
"I'm attracted to colts," he said.
"You don't have to—"
"I do have to. Okay? I'm not going to lie about this. I'm tired of living in fear and silence," said Featherweight, frowning. "I know how stupid it is to admit it, but I've been caught red-hooved and everypony knows what I am so I'm not going to go back to pretending. I like to imagine being a child again when I masturbate. I like to think of other children I knew back then. I keep the pictures because I use them. Kept, I mean."
Twilight sat with him in silence for a short time before she spoke again.
"I don't like the way the law works. You have a mental problem that should be treated, not criminalized—"
"There is no treatment, Twilight. We both know that. And as far as the 'mental problem' goes, I've never laid a hoof on a foal and I never would."
"I... see," said Twilight, pausing for a moment. "Do you have any questions for me?"
"What's going to happen to me, I guess, though if I were as smart as you I'd have found a way to kill myself already," he replied. "I just don't care. I can't live in Ponyville anymore, even if I get out of prison. Everypony who knows me knows what happened. You're the only visitor I've had. My parents won't even visit me."
A deep look of concern crossed Twilight's delicate muzzle. "That isn't right," she said. "It's unfortunate this has happened to you. I almost wish you hadn't been caught."
"Almost. That's real magnanimous of you," he said, narrowing his eyes. "At the end of the day, you're punishing me not because of what I did, but because of who I am. For something I have no control over. Do you want to know why I'm like this?"
Twilight grimaced. "I'm sorry, Featherweight. But yes, you can tell me."
"I was socially awkward when I was younger," he explained. "The only kids who would play with me were much younger than I was, so all my experiences with flirting were with really young kids," he said. "That's why I'm so screwed up inside. I never had sex with any of them, but it was enough to ruin me forever. I never asked to be like this."
"We want to do what's best for you, Featherweight, and this has been a learning opportunity," said Twilight. "We can try to help you now."
"Like I said, there's no help for me," he said. "And you still haven't told me what's going to happen next."
After a deep breath, Twilight spoke, "You won't be facing any jail time, but you'll probably be on probation for five years, and you'll be on the registry for the rest of your life."
Featherweight turned over and buried his head in the pillow. "I don't want to live," he mumbled.
"We'll have you in twenty-four hour mental care until we're certain you are no longer a danger to yourself. You still have a long life ahead of you, and things will get better."
A minute passed in silence, followed by the sound of the cell door opening and closing shut again.
Twilight Sparkle sat at the Cutie Map, idly squeezing a stress toy with her magic. Her section of the magical table was littered with legal papers. Lines of worry etched the corners of her eyes, and she sighed and tapped a hoof against her throne.
"It doesn't matter if it's self-inflicted. He's a danger to society," she said aloud to the empty room. The obvious truth didn't make her feel any better.
There was a loophole in the law, Twilight knew. The law itself didn't care about danger to society; that was the job of sentencing guidelines. The law only cared about what had happened, and in this case she could make the argument a typical pony might not have known the act of keeping the photos was a crime. Even if Featherweight knew what he was doing was wrong, that was enough leeway to justify a pardon.
"But then we can't force him into counseling," she said, and leaned back in her throne, eyes skyward. Above her dangled the magic memory trinkets from her earliest years in Ponyville.
One of the crystals caught Twilight's attention. It was the image of her friends bowing before Princess Celestia, begging for her mercy after she'd used an illicit spell on the entire town. Celestia hadn't needed to forgive her that day. Twilight had shown execrable judgment, and perhaps worse, proven that she didn't truly understand the purpose behind her friendship lessons.
But Celestia forgave her anyway, because she decided to place her trust in Twilight. It was a dangerous move considering what Twilight was capable of, but sometimes dangerous moves are worth the risk when a pony with an otherwise clean slate has their future on the line.
Twilight grasped an inked quill in her magic and hovered it over the pardon she'd already prepared. The risk here was at least as great. What if he molested a foal? He was certain to leave Ponyville once freed, in which case he'd most likely be under Luna's jurisdiction if anything were to happen. How could Twilight justify what she'd done?
The princess took a deep breath as a drop of ink spattered onto the paper, still waiting for her signature.
It was time to decide.
