A Silver Thread of Fate

Dear Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Shining Armor

Dear Mom and Dad,

You have no idea how weird it is to write those four simple words. It’s one thing to keep blurting them out because instinct is a fickle beast or because I’m so messed up in the head at times... It’s another to find myself able to say them unironically and without regret. To be honest, I never thought I’d ever utter Mom or Dad again after my birth parents turned their backs on me.

First and foremost I am writing this letter as a thank-you. I say that, but if I’m being honest, it feels like there’s no amount of gratitude I can afford you that would be substantial enough to repay your kindness. I don’t doubt you’ll also be receiving letters from Aunt Twilight or Grandma Velvet and Grandad Light telling you about how I cried after the party. I can’t and won’t deny it.

I’ve bawled a lot since becoming a pony. Ponies seem so well-built for expressing grief and sadness. Most of the crying I’ve done as a pony has been for one reason or the other. This was different though. I can’t even begin putting into words how happy it made me feel. Just seeing your official wax seal on that copy of the adoption paperwork was shocking enough, but to see the official stamps of approval—Twilight verified them herself—of Princesses Celestia and Luna made it all the more real.

I promise to do my best as your adopted daughter, and a member of House Sparkle to make you proud. I’ve already planned out your Christmas Hearth’s Warming gift and once I’m back in shape, I plan on putting it together ASAP.

As it stands, I’ve gotta get back in shape, first. When Discord poofed me out the hospital room, I was helpless to defend myself. My body was weak from lack of magic, and it was all I could do to keep from absorbing his magic. If I thought circulating the changeling’s magic through my system so I could pull apart its illusion was awful, his magic was... wrong. Sickeningly sweet like antifreeze, but on an instinctual level I wanted nothing to do with it... I’ve never felt so helpless as I did right then... I still don’t know why, when Fluttershy insisted he apologize, he insisted I keep the lamp I vomited up.

How can anyone trust that... that... that thing. I’ll keep my distance, though. I’ve already tried to smash him with my hammer. It didn’t help; he just laughed at me.

I might not be suitable for the Royal Guard, but if I can help by doing what work they hoof off to the Equestrian Bounty Hunter’s Guild. Yes, it’s merc work, but only the sanctioned stuff, like monster extermination or escorting VIPs. No moral grey-area stuff. The idea is that, in lacking a guard contingent, the least I can do is help keep everypony else in Ponyville safe while I’m here.

That brings me to my plans. Before the end of the coming year, I’ll be joining you both in the Crystal Empire. As nice as it is to be here with Aunt Twilight in Ponyville, I know deep down that she and her friends have their own special destiny, and as much as I want to be there to watch it unfold, I know that I need to shape my own fate away from them. At first, I wanted to wander south, into the Mysterious South, or maybe the Forbidden Jungle, but I wanna help you two instead; I know you’ve both been trying for a foal.

I don’t have any specific dates in mind, but I plan on taking the train up to Manehattan once I’ve gotten a nice little fund saved up from contracts, and then wander my way as the pegasus flies, up to the Empire. I’ll send a letter when I leave.

I’ll try to keep you filled in on what’s going on, but I’ll be keeping myself busy with study, exercise, and eventually contracts.

Your grateful daughter,

Silver Penny

~ Interlude 1 ~

Batty Cunt

Master Corporal Evening Script

Evening Script

I know you probably thought you were being simultaneously helpful and funny, but come on. I was at the party with other ponies when I opened that. It was fucking mortifying! If anypony else had seen it, I’d probably have died of shame. Even more so after finding out that the booklet was actually a Playcolt and a Playmare magazine bound and given a cover.

I don’t even know what Aunt Twilight or my grandparents would say if they saw! You know the captain adopted me, right? You basically gave your boss’s daughter a stack of porn. Was it worth the laughs?

The worst part is that I’m probably going to be going into estrus soon, and an actual self-help guide would’ve actually been helpful. I don’t know how, but I can just tell it’ll be in February. That’s why I even opened up your gag gift in the first place...

~ Interlewd...? ~

The library’s empty; I made sure of it three times before closing up for the night. Aunt Twilight and Spike are out spending the night at Applejack’s place to help out with this year’s cider-making. The grandparents, on the other hoof, returned to Canterlot shortly before Nightmare Night.

Why all the secrecy?

Curiosity, really. See, I was reading the novel Eve gifted me while I was keeping an eye on the library for Twilight. Harry Trotter and the Mage’s Induction’s actually a pretty fun book. I mean yeah, Harry’s a bit of a Marty Stu, but at least his female foil, Inquisitive Mind—Hermione Granger, pretty much—keeps him in line. I’m about halfway through the book, where they’ve introduced the primary antagonist, and thankfully it’s not just a carbon-copy Lord Voldemort. Commanding Presence isn’t just magic Hitler.

Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah. I was reading my novel when Cheerilee came to the check-out desk with a stack of books for teaching materials. It was a lot of medical textbooks—you know, the kind with the anatomical diagrams—as well as a book on sexual education. Seems she’s putting together her lesson plan for teaching her students sex-ed.

I don’t even remember what she said to me, or what I said to her. All I know is that, after filing away the cards for the books she checked out, it occurred to me that I could very well have this body’s first heat in the coming months. It’s all well and good to prep myself with Lyra’s lingering memories and memories of being Lyra, but if we’re being real, what she experienced and what I experience might be two different things.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to check out that other book. It just been sitting there, tucked into the bottom of my rucksack out of spite. I’m sure she meant well.

So with that, I make my way up out of the library and into the living quarters. I’m so glad they just got me a futon rather than bed, because it’s comfy and so much easier to move my stuff around as the whim strikes. That said, my bedding is currently wedged into a small alcove beneath a table, with my rucksack propped up against it.

I don’t even blink as I roll out my bed, and before I know it, I’m on my belly, levitating things out of the bag. Sure, it’s bothersome to pull out so many things just to get one book, but hey. It counts as my magic exercise, too. Besides, I’m still skeeved out by the fact that Eve thought it funny to send me this in the first place. Why would I want anypony else to find this?

With only mild reue, I stare down at the cover of You’re In Heat (And That’s Okay)! At first, I hardly even notice the author line. Gag Gift and Special Order do come off as your typical pony names, and I wish that I’d paid more attention to them before opening the cover.

Instead, my cheeks flush crimson. There, on the very first page—glossy like magazine stock—is a tan mare in lacy black panties and stockings. She’s lying on her back, rear legs spread and forelegs curled against her chest as she gives the camera a very sensual smile. Despite mostly covering her teats, the panties somehow not only draw the eyes, but also manage to make the teats seem larger.

I blink as I tear my gaze from the model to the article beneath, which seems to be an interview with the mare regarding what it’s like to be a lingerie model. Eve, you fucking maniac...

Maybe it’s morbid curiosity, or maybe I really do like what I see, but I find myself drawn into the disguised magazine. It’s kinda strange that ponies would even need some of this stuff, but hey... they have clothes for special occasions, why not lingerie, one-piece swimsuits, and... bunny outfits? Seriously?

Deeper I go, seeing mares in various provocative poses and even more provocative outfits. Not all of the pages have interviews or bios of the models, though. Some are perfectly normal product reviews, or articles on various economic shit. There’s even a lewd short stories.

It’s not until I feel a vaguely familiar warmth beneath my belly that I realize what this is. It’s a Playcolt magazine. My face is positively hot at this point, and I want to tear my gaze away, but I’m helpless to resist. I didn’t know I needed this, but apparently I did.

Soon enough, the scantily clad or fully nude mares give way to stallions. Stallions in speedos or various sorts of work uniforms sans pants, showing off bulging packages, or shots from the right angle where their sheaths and heavy sacks are visible. Still there are articles, but they take a backseat to the imagery.

In spite of my orientation, that warmth in my belly grows into a burning longing sensation. I know this feeling... I remember it from when I—when Soren—was Lyra. As if to accentuate that, I can feel a slight tingle and an accumulation of moisture around my marehood. As if my body isn’t sure I get the picture, it makes me quite aware that I’m winking down there.

“Fuck,” I hiss aloud, shutting the book. There’s a line, and it’s quite clearly been crossed. There’s no going back now... “I’ve gotta clop now.”

At the same time though, I don’t wanna soil my bedding.

Shutting my eyes, I suck in a deep breath and stand up. My legs feel like rubber, and I’m painfully aware of how sensitive my vulva is with every step that I take toward the bathroom. Yeah, better I do it in the bathtub, at least I can wash away my shame then.

Once I’m in there, I flick on the light and stagger over to the large clawfoot bathtub. It’s a bit hard dragging myself up into the tub with how quivery my legs are, but once I’m in and on my back, I smile and look down past my belly at my teats. This is okay... After getting so comfortable in my skin, I deserve this.

I have half a mind to fill the tub with warm water, but on second thought, that might make things more problematic. If lingering Lyra memories are anything to go by, my fluids will just leach out into the water, and scent the steam... which would in turn just get me into a sort of fuck-haze. Also, it’d take ages to get the bathroom to air out. Longer than it’d take for Aunt Twilight to come back in the morning.

Instead, I lie back and snake my forehoof down my belly. Even as my hoof begins to gently tease my nipples, I shut my eyes and let my imagination take over. Soon, it’s not the depraved little dwarf rubbing herself in the bathtub. In my mind’s eye, the tan mare from the girly mag is looming over me.

“Somepony’s been a naughty filly,” she teases, rubbing my tiny tits with a black lace-clad hoof. She presses on down towards my needy nethers, tantalizing the top of my vulva with just the tip of her hoof.

“You’re damn right I have,” I whisper, licking my lips. With even just this basic teasing, my tail and the insides of my thighs are absolutely soaked. It’s insane that such a small pony like me could produce so much lubrication.

My mental projection of the mare grins and caresses my face with her damp hoof. “Be a good filly and clean my hoof before your naughty juices stain the stocking.”

Crunch! The sound of somepony chewing on something fills the air, and suddenly I can smell... popcorn?

With the immersion ruined and daydream shattered, my eyes snap open with alarm and sit up in the tub. There, sitting in a recliner that certainly does not belong in the bathroom, is a very smug looking somepony... or rather, someone. “Oh, please, don’t stop on my account!”

At the sight of that moon-damned draconequus watching me with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, my blood goes gelid. “Discord!?” I hiss, barely able to keep myself from shrieking. “Why in the fuck are you watching me?”

He sits forward and lowers his sunglasses and frowns at me. “Oh please, do you honestly believe what you were doing is of any interest to me?” Discord snorts and shoves a clawfull of popcorn into his mouth. “You’re going to make me sick.”

Yeah, because that’s what a girl wants to hear when she catches somepony watching her. Super validating. I narrow my eyes at him, sinking down until only my eyes are visible over the edge of the tub. “Then what are you doing here!?”

He shrugs and leans back in his recliner. “I was curious why you were radiating so much chaotic energy.” With a snap of his talons, his popcorn turns into ice cream. “Of all the ponies in this town, you’re the only one who creates chaos when they deviate from their norms.”

“I wonder why,” I growl, as fury fills my belly. Fucker comes into the bathroom while I’m masturbating just to find out why I radiate chaos? Surely he knows on some level that I’m not of this world. “Get out.”

A grin spreads across his face. “Oooh, I like the flavor you’re emitting now. Muy picante,” he croons, pulling a sombrero from nowhere. “Make me.”

You’re going to regret this, you ugly son of a bitch. I channel magic into the spell I’ve been practicing the last few weeks—a summoning charm. My target? The hammer. Nearly as big as me, and absolutely not at all a reasonable weapon for me to wield with my physical strength... but I don’t need physical strength when I’ve got magic.

“Tausend Reue,” I whisper, triggering the somatic component of this particular charm. It’s not a mandatory part of the charm, but if you give something a name, it becomes easier to summon it. Especially for beginners who have problems visualizing where it is. “You’ll regret this.”

~ Interlude ~

... but now I’ve got a citation on my record for disturbing the peace. As if it’s my fault that I had to chase that moon-damned draconequus through the streets of Ponyville with a hammer while smelling like sex. Fucking pervert was watching me!

Why did the princesses decide to let that fucker out of stone in the first place? He’s a menace, and he loves to fuck with me. Doesn’t matter how many times I smash him with my hammer or stab him... It’s like he enjoys it... like having someone who isn’t afraid to lash out at him like I do is the greatest thing in the world.

Enough about me though. How are things with you? I’ve heard from a reliable source that you two were thinking about tying the knot soon. You two make a cute couple.

You gotta come down to Ponyville at some point. It really is a pretty down, evil forest and draconequus notwithstanding...

Penny