High Tea with the Princess
It had been a pretty good day until you tried to go back upstairs.
Well, a good morning, at any rate. You had gotten up with ease, gotten dressed in comfortable clothing, and were getting ready to go and pick up a dime when you decided to get your jacket from your room; you naturally lept up the stairs, feeling oddly energized and knowing that it was going to be a good day as you approached the top stair.
But the top stair wasn't there that morning.
~
"It’s that feeling. That feeling you get when you step on a stair that isn’t there." You brain reasons all that out in an instant, which is what makes it so much more difficult to handle everything else that has suddenly shifted, like the sudden lack of a house around you or the way you’re tumbling through the air. Sky and earth blend together, and you can’t recall a sky so picture-esquely blue, nor a ground as brilliantly green as the one rushing towards you far too quickly. And that’s when you’re saved by a brilliant flash of blue that can't be sky, (not when it feels so marshmellowy soft) a blue that grabs you and glides its way out of free-fall with acrobatic ease before letting you go to roll to a stop on the ground.
“Hey, are you alright?” A pair of pink eyes fills your vision, which then pull back to reveal the face of a small winged blue horse. “Jeez, what are you exactly?”
You can’t even respond; your skull feels almost pressurized as it tries to deal with this new torrent of information. Instead of even trying you simply slump back against the ground and close your eyes as the Pegasus takes off, assuring yourself that things would turn out fine.
~
“Dear Celestia, what’s wrong with him!?”
“I don’t know, he- er, it? Anyway, it was just falling out of the sky, and I just managed to stop his fall!”
“His hooves are completely flayed on the forelegs, and the hind are completely bent out of shape. Hold him still while I re-break the legs into the normal position.”
You feel a somewhat squishy leg press against your kneecap, and that’s around when you spring up and start yelling. The scene before you is absurd, almost impossible.
‘No, this is completely impossible.’ You think, surveying the room. A small horse in a lab coat and glasses is talking with the blue winged one who saved your life earlier. Small ponies wander around the place, discussing things in plain English, carrying charts and oh yeah, wearing fucking lab coats and glasses.
“This- this is not normal!” You cry, and the stunned faces of the equines around you echo your own bewilderment at the bizarre world you’ve found yourself in.
“Sweet Celestia, it’s beautiful.” Says what seems to be a minty colored unicorn, just before all hell breaks loose. The doctor immediately calls for nursing assistants as a horde of ponies in armor begin flooding in from the street entrance. The green pony who spoke up suddenly jumps you, pressing her face into your chest with enough force that all the air leaves your lungs with a grunt. A nurse runs over and tries to pry her off of you as a second mare digs through a tray of needles; meanwhile, the guards and the doctor are now arguing, and your savior from before is nowhere to be found. Suddenly, there’s a cool breeze as you realize your pants have been yanked down by the nurse, and your overly-enthusiastic companion releases you to have a look as well.
A sharp stab into your buttocks later and you drift off into the blackest night.
~
You come to in a small cottage-like room, a small drizzle tapping on the window like impatiently drumming fingers. Sitting up, you turn to see a small purple unicorn staring at you intently, and your heart stops as you scream internally. You return the stare, and for a few strange moments the two of you just peer at each other unblinkingly, still trying to grasp the other’s existence on any kind of level. The look on her face is at once pensive, and hungry; you get the unnerving impression that she wants to pull you apart, and savor every minute of inspection. After a moment she breaks the gaze, and clears her throat to speak.
“Good afternoon. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I’m here to act on behalf of Princess Celestia. From what I have read, you are a human; you match the descriptions of the others who have historically ‘fallen through,’ and we hope to help you adjust and achieve your true potential as the others have done.” Then suddenly she rubs her hooves together, a huge grin on her face. “Plus this means that I’ll get to be involved in one of the great turning points of Equestrian history!”
Well they seem to be expecting rather a lot from you, it seems. “O-okay. So where are these other people?”
Twilight looks pensive for a moment. “They should all be dead by now.” She says, matter-of-factly.
“Oh. Great. Uh, and who is Princess Celestia?” Twilight’s eyes widen with surprise.
“You don’t know Princess Celestia? Well listen, you’re staying here for the time being, and I can give you a brief lecture on the history of gods and ruling parties in Equestrian history! Come on!”
~
And so began your life in Ponyville, which went ahead as smoothly as could be for a human living among miniature equines. You spent most of your time with Twilight, who would find endless subjects for you to read, or pretend to read. However as time went on you met more of the people of Ponyville: Rainbow Dash, the one who had saved you from being splattered, Applejack, who was plain spoken and sensible, Rarity, who was fabulously proper and kind, and Pinkie Pie, who was ceaselessly energetic and instantly magnetic.
And then there was Fluttershy. You and Twilight had to pick up some herbs for a tincture that Twilight had been meaning to make. Arriving at the cottage you noticed some smoke pouring out of one of the windows, and frantically got Twilight’s attention.
“Oh, I should have told you! Fluttershy has a thing for incense; she says that it helps the animals to relax.” You take her word for it as she almost kicks the door in, happily strutting her way into the smoke. You follow in with her, and the first thing you notice is the smell. Like a mix of ashy fruit loops, lemon pledge and skunks. The whole treehouse, and everything in it, absolutely reeks of marijuana. And it smells glorious.
“Fluttershy, are you in here?” Twilight calls into the smoke, which is greeted by a startled “Eep!” and the sound of glass instruments being carefully set behind a couch.
“I, I’m coming!” Fluttershy continues to mumble to herself as she steps out of the haze, her eyes nicely bloodshot and still exhaling a small amount of smoke. “Oh, I’m sorry Twilight. I must have fallen asleep with the incense burning, and most of the windows closed.”
Twilight seems to find nothing wrong with this, a slight cough her only acknowledgement of the thick smoke permeating the room. They both stand there awkwardly for a minute, Twilight tapping her hoof against the floor, and Fluttershy dreamily staring at a wall before you clap your hands together and snap them out of it.
“Ah, yes!” Twilight says, “We are in need of some of your reed oil and a few cattail roots. …Fluttershy?”
Fluttershy was zoning out again, but snapped to in a pretty decisive nod. “Whu-well you better bring the basket then Twi-“
“Hey, I don’t mind going on back.” You say, hoisting the basket. Fluttershy’s eyes widen, but before she can say anything Twilight rears onto her back legs and claps her hooves together.
“Great! See, I knew that you would assimilate beautifully into Ponyville’s society! I’ll wait here.” You quickly set after Fluttershy--who is currently trotting rather nervously in place--and have her direct you on back to the cabinet. As she bends down to find the desired specimens, you can’t help but ask.
“So, where do you get your incense from?” She jumps, and bumps her head on the counter with a squeak. “Come on, I know how it is. Maybe we can work something out?”
Fluttershy is taken aback. “Oh, um, well… I could probably use someone to help me organize things at the end of the day; maybe we can make a trade?”
The labor seems easy, and the agreement is swift. You depart with a hazy headed Twilight, calling back to assure you’ll be in to help out that night.
~
You arrive at Fluttershy’s later that evening; ink stains still on your hands from when Twilight absent-mindedly flung an Inkwell towards you in the expectation you would catch it and somehow the ink would stay inside the well for the duration of the flight. She called it a night only after she almost knocked a bookshelf over on Spike, saying that she was feeling a little bit off; what a light-weight.
Fluttershy seems to have remained high for the duration of the day, and giggles as she passive-aggressively manages your placement of the many bottles and flasks in her cupboards.
“Fluttershy, don’t you have something else you can be doing?” You say, as a small lump of wet, spongy root flops onto your hand.
“Oh! Sure.” She springs up and flaps her way gracefully to her mahogany stash box, her legs working beneath her as if she were still walking. As she fiddles around with the box, you finish stacking the tiny ceramic containers of spices, and stand up to stretch. Walking over, you notice that Fluttershy has set up a strange contraption that seems to be hand-built. A hearing trumpet is perched on top of a stool, the neck of it bent at an angle to hold a tiny glass funnel with a pebble as a stopper in the bottom. At the mouth of the trumpet is a small fan, which Fluttershy turns on with a flick of her wing.
“Fluttershy, you seem to be making this way more complicated than it needs to be.” If she hears you, she doesn’t respond as she brings over the buds; dried and cured flowers that are in no way ordinary. “W-what…” You can’t think of anything to say as she deftly breaks apart a beautiful emerald green nug, the trichomes snapping off and falling to the ground like glittering snow. You have to prevent yourself from diving to sweep up the shreds of crystalline THC, and content yourself to wait as Fluttershy tosses the broken flowers into the small glass funnel on the earpiece. The breeze from the other ends prepacks it all in, and Fluttershy shuts the window with a decisive snap as you marvel at the odd genius of the contraption. Fluttershy grabs a burning wick, and tells you to stand over-top of it and take a deep breath.
"It’s sort of like being trapped in a forest fire inside a tornado." The smoke streams across your face, forcing you to shut your eyes as you breathe deeply. Each breath is hot and ashy, there’s a slightly harsh carbonic taste in your mouth, mingling with tinges of lemon and spice. You duck out of the way, taking a moment to cough out some of the smoke filling your lungs. Fluttershy is busy flying just beneath the ceiling, taking deep breaths as she circles lazily around the ceiling lights and the contraption sputters out the last of the bowl’s remnants. Fluttershy swoops down onto the couch, where you have decided to take a seat as you finish wheezing.
“Hmm, was that too much?” Fluttershy asks, her voice dreamy.
“No, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting to be engulfed in a massive column of smoke.” She nods quietly at your assurances, and takes a moment to rub her face against your arm in an almost cat-like fashion. Reaching over, you scratch behind her ears and she lets out a deep sigh of relief.
‘This is really nice,’ You think as she gets up to refill the funnel. ‘Probably the most normal I’ve felt since I’ve gotten here.’ It was sort of like when you’d get high and sit with your cat, except now you weren’t watching Cops, and the cat was a sentient pony. She refills the bowl and relights it, releasing another yellowish cloud of smoke, and she nods at you in drowsy approval as you move your face once more into the smoke.
~
You and Fluttershy had just finished demolishing a bag of romaine lettuce when a tiny purple orb appeared just inside the foyer, prompting the both of you to stare directly at it for a minute.
“You were right Fluttershy, this is good stuff.” As soon as the comment leaves your lips, there’s was a sudden pop, and a scroll bursts into existence as Fluttershy jumps with surprise. You get up, a little unsteadily, and then walk over to pick up the scroll. With a flick of your wrist you unfurl it, and read the lofty script with more than a bit of trouble.
~
Dearest Ambassador of the Human Race,
You have been cordially invited to The Royal Quarters of Princess Celestia for inspection and testing. Refreshments will be served.
Signed,
The Royal Embassy of Canterlot
~
“Oh shit.” Fluttershy looks up as you struggle to comprehend what this means. Tests; what do they mean, tests!? Are they going to levitate you? Do you have to be naked? What kind of inspection are they planning for you?!
“Um, I think maybe you should sit down.” Cowed back to reality, you accept her advice and plop down on the couch; Fluttershy thoughtfully chews a leaf of lettuce as you toss the scroll onto the table. “I don’t think it’ll be anything serious. Celestia is really nice, and only a little intimidating.”
“You would say that; you’re under the thumb of the man!” Fluttershy simply tilts her head. “You… I guess you wouldn’t get that. That’s okay.”
“You’re welcome, I think.” Her attention goes back to the lettuce. “So really, I don’t see it as being any kind of big deal or something, but maybe that’s just because I almost blew up her bird once, so I’ve been to the edge of possible nervousness. Also, it’s late; you should probably get going, since you have a big day tomorrow. Oh, and here!” She springs up and grabs a tiny paper bag, tossing it to you with her mouth.
“Thanks Fluttershy.” You peer inside and spot a sealed leaf envelope full of tiny buds, and a hand carved wooden pipe. “You’re a good friend.”
Fluttershy hugs you tightly, her wings surrounding you like a warm, feathery membrane. “Just make sure you keep the cabinets looking nice.”
You depart for the library, stumbling inside and falling asleep on your designated cot fully clothed, your fears for tomorrow banished as you drift off into sleep.
~
“Get up!”
The pillow hits you swiftly in the face, and you mumble something about Fluttershy turning the fan lower as you come face to face with an exasperated Twilight.
“I can’t believe you! I had a schedule that called for you to be up at eight a.m. sharp, and now it’s…” Twilight swings her gaze at the clock, and back to you. “…Eleven! Look, just get up and drink some of the coffee on the table, I have to get my sketchbooks and quills together.”
Slumping your way over to the table, you watch enviously as Spike continues to sleep, while Twilight madly dashes around organizing her dangerously overstuffed saddlebag. The coffee is good and still hot, and you sip it slowly as Twilight continues to babble furiously at you, simultaneously reprimanding you and assuaging your fears.
“Now look, I understand that you probably have some trepidation about meeting the Princess, and well you should because now we might be late; but no, it’ll still be alright, she’ll understand…” Twilight somehow snaps the latch closed on her saddlebag and gives you a grin. “So! The Royal carriage will be here in short order, we have no time to get you showered and presentable, but that’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll even get some sweat samples during the inspection!”
You look at the small pony, her nostrils flaring with excitement, and decide that whatever is going to happen is going to happen, you may as well make the best of it. Grabbing your coat, you join Twilight in the foyer and wait patiently for your transport to arrive. You’re not sure, but you think Twilight keeps leaning in to smell your jacket, a smile hovering around her lips. As the carriage touches down, you head into the small chamber and take your seat, the door closing behind you and Twilight with a decisive and loud thunk.
~
The flight was mostly uneventful, Twilight asking you the odd question on humans, and you try not to blow her mind and stick to a lot of historic subjects. She moves on to questioning you about anatomy, and is rather forward in placing a hoof on your chest to feel your heartbeat as she quizzes you on your skeletal structure and endocrine system.
She leans in close, and you can almost feel her visually dissecting you. “So how do your hormones get produced? Can you indicate the location of your gonads to me?”
“Wait, what?!” You say, leaning back sharply. “N-no! I mean, well, will I have to?” Twilight doesn’t answer as Canterlot swings into view, the beautiful outline of Celestia’s castle growing closer with each passing second. Disengaging herself from you in one swift motion, Twilight sits back in her seat like nothing happened as the cart finally touches down, your shirt still slightly ruffled.
Making your way into the castle, you marvel at the architecture and the strong presence of the guards; the gardens are kept immaculate, and the buildings themselves are pristine. Twilight peers around with an air of familiarity, and continues to shift her gaze onto you whenever she thinks you aren’t looking. Making your way into the castle, you’re greeted by a few more guards, who let you into the main hall after a moment’s check of the royal day-planner.
The hall is impressive to say the least. Stained glass windows abound, some even showing the exploits of a certain group of friends, others detailing the rich history of Equestria. The carpet is surprisingly plush, and the gleaming floor on either side is buffed and waxed enough to see your reflection in. At the end of the carpet stands Celestia, her mane shimmering and flowing as if caught in a constant breeze. Her body is a creamy white color, and her eyes are the same soft purple as a summer sky at dusk.
“Twilight Sparkle, it’s always good to see you again! And here is the human.” She eyes you, but the look feels different from that of other ponies. It feels somehow knowing, familiar in strange ways. “I heard they call you Anon, I hope that it will be proper for me to do the same.”
You prepare to respond, but Twilight quickly intervenes. “Yep, he’ll be fine. So listen, when would you like to get the inspection started? I’m ready to take any anatomical sketches we may need.”
Celestia looks you over, and gives you an almost imperceptible wink of her eye as she asks Twilight to speak with her for a moment. Twilight happily trots over, and you see her jaw drop as Celestia speaks to her in a hushed tone.
“Well yes, I know that we already have anatomy drawings,” You hear Twilight say, “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep them updated!” The whispering continues, and Twilight digs through her saddlebag and shoves a hoof-full of paper towards the Princess. “Well look, just take these, it’s my application for a formal study of his anatomy and the reactivity of his nervous system. Just mull it over.”
Twilight quickly trots back over to you, her smile seeming awfully strained. “Well, looks like Celestia wishes to spend some time with you alone. I’m going to the royal library, I’ll be back to get you whenever things finish up.” You start to take a step forward, when Twilight suddenly tugs your shirt with a strong magic field, bringing you down to eye level. “And I will get those drawings.” She says; her voice now a low hiss that sounds at once dangerous and hungry. “Well, bye!” Twilight walks away, her eyes narrowing slightly as they meet yours, just before she disappears around the door.
And with that you alone with Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia. For a few moments, there’s nothing but silence between the two of you. Then Princess gently taps a hoof against the floor drawing your attention with an almost hypnotic ease.
“Shall we head to the Royal chambers? I believe that I should have a more comfortable room set-up; also, Luna doesn’t like it when I allow guests to sit in her throne.”
~
The room is quite remarkable as a whole; a brilliant chandelier hangs from immaculate silver colored chains that reach to each corner of the room. There is a fireplace that burns in spite of the heat of the spring day, yet somehow seems to keep the room perfectly pleasant. There is a small wooden table adorned with a simple crème-colored tablecloth, with a rather plush looking chair on one side, and a daybed on the other. For a moment you entertain the notion of taking the daybed and making her try to sit upright in the chair, but reason wins out and you gladly sink into the deep blue cushioning of the chair. Celestia takes her seat across from you, pouring the tea with ease as she opens the conversation.
“Now, I understand that you are the latest human to ‘Fall Through,’ and naturally that leads to a certain amount of questions and disorientation. So, I will do my best to bring you up to speed on anything you wish to inquire about.” She sips her tea as your mind teems with thoughts and questions.
“Well,” you say, “how exactly did I, uh, ‘fall through’?”
“Oh!” Celestia draws a hoof to her mouth, “We never did figure that out.” She frowns as you lean back in your seat, unsatisfied with the answer. “We honestly did try to figure it out, but for that we need to be close enough to inspect it; the problem with that is, the holes appear in different spaces each time. The last one was dropped into the path of the dragon migration, if my memory serves me right.”
“Well that’s comforting.” You say, and you struggle to find your next question. “So, uh, what exactly am I supposed to do here? I keep hearing about this whole ambassador title, human, thing.” You finish lamely, and Celestia takes a moment to swirl the tea in her cup before responding.
“It has worked out like this. On average, we have about one fall-through every five years or so, our times being somewhat similar judging by most accounts. Now, only about one in every ten of those makes it alive, by either luck or happenstance; and each one of those has been an incredible contributor to Equestrian society.” She reaches down to a file you hadn’t noticed before, and hands you a stack of very old looking photographs. Looking through, you glean the meaning of each one with relative ease. The oldest one shows a gruffly bearded human wielding an axe and standing next to a red-hot forge being lit by a dragon; you can only assume he was the man to bring blacksmithing to Equestria, and also the star of possibly the best metal album cover ever.
*Flip* The next page has a man with a beautifully trimmed mustache and a very snazzy vest standing next to one of Equestria’s first trains. There’s one with a young woman standing next to a herd of Zebras, a red cross visible on her armband. The next one is almost a jarring juxtaposition; a man in an impeccable SS officer’s uniform stands with an assortment of ponies next to a phonograph, smiling happily. Another picture features a man standing by one of Canterlot’s first industrial factories to utilize the assembly line. Grain stills and sports and the Dewey Decimal system, each one has something that has if not moved Equestria forward, then most certainly has given it a push.
Your mind turns back to the SS officer. “Hey Celestia, hang on a second. How is it that you and I understand each other? Not every human who landed here could have spoken the same language.”
Celestia nods serenely. “A fine question: ever since the beginning we have had humans who have fallen through. Since the very beginning of Equestria itself in fact, there have been a fateful few who have survived the trip. It is believed that our languages have evolved along somewhat parallel lines, with both places having the same dominant language, due to human influence.”
You consider telling her that she should be speaking Mandarin soon in that case, but decide against it. “And what about those who don’t speak this—er, our—language? Are they forced to learn it, is there a way to tell them what has happened?”
Celestia is quiet for a minute, and then leans in a little closer. “Yes. Unicorn magic is always different in how specialized a pony’s talent is, but there are some abilities we all possess. One of these is called linking.”
“Linking,” she continues, “works rather like your telegrams that I have been told of before. A unicorn has the ability to send a thought or memory to another unicorn almost like a message; however, it is much more complex than that. Perhaps it would be best if I just demonstrated.”
Before you get the chance to react Celestia leans in close, touching the very tip of her horn to your forehead; and just like that you’re not in the castle anymore.
You’re flying. Normally this would be terrifying; you were lucky to survive the first time falling through. But this is different from seeing or being, it’s not you who interprets this; this is a moment from the mind of Celestia, and as such it’s tinged with her thoughts and feelings and experiences. You can feel a joy that isn’t your own as you do a gentle loop through the air, soaring beneath a gentle spring sun that warms your wings even as cool air gushes around you like the water of a swimming pool.
Suddenly you’re back, the vision in the sky replaced by the sight of Celestia taking a deep breath as she pulls away from the link. Your legs are shaking, and you try to calm yourself with some tea as a thoughtful silence falls over the room.
“Uh, so, what am I doing here?” You look up from the pictures to see that Celestia has gotten up and is pacing the room, stopping to face you as you set the folder back on the table.
“That’s the question on a lot of ponies’ lips. Each human that has survived has been responsible for giving rise to something; some bring new forms of athleticism, some show us new developments in metallurgy or architecture, and the odd human who simply brings us something to enjoy.” You look at her curiously, and she blushes deeply. “He- ah, how do I put this… He discovered a new way for ponies to find a special somepony, but without the special somepony.”
You reflect on the idea of a dildo-maker landing in Equestria with a certain amusement, before slouching forward again. You aren’t much for feats of athleticism, nor can you help them create a form of the internet, (probably for the best) and enjoyment… You realize now that you never had time to change since yesterday, and your heart thumps as you reach into your pocket and close your fingers around the simple carved pipe that Fluttershy gifted you.
‘Well, it is something that they already have.’ You think to yourself. ‘But it hardly seems popularized within most social circles in Equestria; heck, Twilight was clueless, and she reads pony pharmacopeias like Goosebumps books. Maybe…’
“Hey Celestia, I think I have an idea.” She turns to look at you, and her smile gleams like a solar flare. “It’s not exactly something new or even something that’s purely from my dimension, but I think you might like it.”
~
“I’m not quite sure I understand the reasoning behind this. Why wouldn’t I simply ingest the plant?” Celestia’s apprehension shines through her regal persona, and your heart flutters a little at the glimpse of the true alicorn that is so often shrouded in her cult of personality. Although that could also be a heart palpitation caused by your trans-dimensional warp, according to Twilight at least.
You shake away the thoughts, and do your best to answer the princess. “Well, I know that part of it has to do with the application of heat. I think that it’s because a certain temperature has to be reached for the active chemicals to decarboxylate, and thus have any kind of effect.” You take a moment to pride yourself for knowing that, even though you think it may have been gleaned from an episode of Cops. She still looks unsure, and now a little bit confused.
“Okay Anon, I trust you in this. Should you be the first to partake, or is that honor reserved for me?” You tip the pipe in her direction, and she takes the hint, wrapping it in a magical aura with practiced ease. You start to stand, when her musical voice stops you like a bird hitting a window. “You aren’t leaving, are you?” The trepidation in her voice clutches at your soul, your brain almost grinding to a halt as you remember what you were doing.
“I, uh, I was just going to go get you a light?” You point towards the fireplace, and Celestia responds with a tinkling laugh that rolls and burbles like water from a spring brook.
“Oh please Anon, I work with the sun. Allow me.” Her horn glows brightly, and suddenly you notice that a small ball of fire about the size of a balloon has appeared just next to the chandelier. Your jaw drops as you process the information you’re seeing, and realize that Celestia has summoned her own miniature star. As it floats downward, you have to struggle against every fiber of your being that tells you to dive out of the way, but the star seems to stay the same size as it approaches, and by the time it arrives at the daybed it’s no larger than a raisin. The gaseous dot slowly circles her horn like an orbiting planet, and she giggles upon catches your expression.
She turns her attentions back to the pipe. “Alright Anon, I need you to show me how to work this.”
You guide her though the process, making sure that she knows to breathe it deeply and to try and hold it in. “But it’s okay if you can’t, most tend to cough… when… uh…” Celestia brings the pipe to her lips and lets the miniscule star land right in the bowl, pulling hard and clearing the pipe all in about five seconds. She looks at you with wide eyes, her cheeks puffed out in a rather comical fashion as she holds her breath.
And holds.
And holds.
“Celestia, please, take a breath!” You say, completely flabbergasted and more than a little impressed with the fortitude of her will; and her lungs.
“WAAAOUGH!” She practically bellows the smoke from her lungs, taking in a deep breath before falling back onto the daybed, her eyes closed. Everything is still as the plume of smoke disperses, Celestia unmoved from her supine pose.
‘Oh god I killed a princess. No, stop, don’t think that. She’s fine, just go and check on her.’ You take a tentative step forward, the clack of your shoe echoing around the room like a gunshot. “Hey, Celestia? It, uh, it’s Anon. Are you okay?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and then she sighs a sight of what you can only hope is enjoyable relief; a hope that solidifies as she stretches her graceful neck with a light “Ah!” Celestia opens her now increasingly bloodshot eyes to gaze at you with a mix of sleepy wonder and that same odd familiarity as before, and there’s a brief moment where everything feels expectant, like there’s a question waiting behind those lips, seeking an exit.
“Anon? Is, is my mane growing?” What? “It definitely feels like it is growing. Or like it’s just heavy somehow, it feels like I’m wearing a coronet.” She looks up at her head and frowns, prompting you to burst into laughter at the absurdity of your life now, and at the completely blazed royal talking horse who’s lounging before you on a cushy daybed. Celestia watches you with vague amusement before starting to giggle, soon setting into a deep braying kind of laugh that feels so unreserved and joyous that your ears almost tingle with warmth. The moment comes to pass and you flop back down in your chair, elated at how well everything seems to be going. Celestia lazily floats the pipe over to you, still trying to adjust to her new perspective as you take your turn. The smoke is harsh and much hotter than it was with Fluttershy’s fan-o-phone contraption, but you are determined not to look bad in front of the princess and manage to hold it all together. The two of you sit silently for a moment, Celestia inspecting the glittering gold patterns that adorn her hooves as you let your gaze wander the room, almost paralyzed by disbelief at the majesty and opulence of your surroundings. Suddenly, you hear a thick smacking noise emanating from across the table, and you turn to see Celestia sticking her tongue out of her mouth with a distasteful expression on her face.
She notices you staring, and blushes a little. “Ah, my apologies, my mouth is just a little…”
“Dry?” You finish the sentence, and she nods demurely at you as you pour her a new cup of tea. She grips it with her hoof first, switching to magic and then placing it back in her hoof after a moment’s indecision. She takes a dainty, ladylike sip, and her eyes widen a little as she suddenly switches gears and downs the contents of the cup in a gulp. You can’t help but smile as she pours herself another cup, the tip of her tongue poking out as she focuses on pouring it just right. “Feeling refreshed?”
“I have to say that I am. It’s quite odd, I feel… more, if that makes sense. Everything is intense and engrossing in new ways; and I feel more aware of myself. I wonder how it would be…” It’s that familiarity again, still buried in her expression under heavy-lidded red eyes and a wistful smile. It’s something deep, something more than just simple recognition or friendship, but it’s almost like she identifies with you in a way. You know that you have to ask, but a part of you worries that it might not be what you want.
“How what would be Ce-“ Suddenly a low roar cuts you off, and you whip your head around to locate the source of the threatening rumble. “What the heck was that?”
“That was my stomach.” Celestia blushes deeply as you grin at her, the moment punctuated by another low grumble. You rise to your feet and she follows suit, her white coat gleaming under the crystalline lighting of the room. She rocks forward on her front legs, the curvature of her back accentuated as she stretches, the tightly packed muscles of her haunches straining under her skin. She moves in closer, her wings now unfurling slowly and ruffling in the same invisible breeze that constantly flows through her mane. The wings stay open, and as she comes to your side you find yourself enveloped in them both as she pulls you into a hug.
It’s incredible. The thick plumage of her wings feels like a blanket as she draws you near, her mane cascading across your back like a curtain in never-ending spring breeze. Your face is pressed against her elegant neck, her coat softer than the most worn terry cloth and smelling like lilies and fresh air. She sighs deeply, the vibration humming through your body like ripples in a pond. You slowly wrap your arms around her neck, eliciting a surprised coo as you return the favor. The two of you share the embrace for only a few seconds, but it feels like forever.
Your stomach is the one to grumble this time, and Celestia giggles as she moves back, walking off towards the door. Her tail sways and shimmers as she sashays across the floor, wiggling her hips a little.
“Coming with?”
~
The royal kitchen is, in a word, fantastic. The surfaces gleam with polish, and a cornucopia of vibrant fruits lies in a silver bowl on the countertop. But your eyes are immediately drawn to the room’s current occupant.
Luna is completely absorbed in her examination of an open cabinet, her head tilted slightly as she peers inside. Your shoes clack on the marble and she slowly turns her attention towards you and Celestia, who by now is attempting to eat roses out of a bouquet.
“Ah, Sister! Perhaps you could assist me in this endeavor. W-I am unable to locate the maple syrup and cinnamon oats, would you have any knowledge pertaining to this?”
Celestia smiles sweetly at her sister. “Indeed, I last saw it in the cabinet to the far left.” You smirk a little at the lilt of formality in her voice as Luna magically ropes her bag of oats and now focuses her attention on you.
Her eyes keenly examine you through the wisps of her translucent mane. “Ah, and we’ve brought in another visitor from a strange land. I do hope that this one doesn’t leave rodent bones in the yard like the Griffon Chief.”
“Oh dear,” Celestia chuckles, “No, this is anon. He’s a human; we’ve had a couple of them before. Perhaps you remember?”
Luna suddenly widens her eyes. “Ah yes! Are those the ones who-“ Her eyes suddenly dart to your sides, and she seemingly shrinks back from the two of you. “Hmmm. Well I hope you enjoyed high tea here in Canterlot Anon, you are a welcome guest. Also, dear sister I have to ask if you have taken unwell; your eyes are rather red.”
“Huh?” Celestia looks at the bowl of fruit, catching her reflection in the polished metal of the bowl. “Hahaha, oh my!” Looking up, she spots the looks of amusement and confusion on your respective faces, and lets out a sigh of contentment. “I’m fine sister, I’m just rather tired I suppose.”
Luna nods curtly. “Understandable. I must admit that the current state of affairs is rather demanding, and I’d rather you not overexert yourself sister.” She steps close and whispers something in Celestia’s ear, peering at you in a way that likely isn’t as covert as she thinks; Celetia’s answer is a rather quiet “Uh, if it all works out” and you do your best to keep from getting paranoid about whatever it is that they’re discussing.
Celestia returns, knocking you from your zoned out inspection of the fruit bowl/intense eavesdropping reverie. About four slices of cake rotate around her horn like a delicious asteroid belt, and she is currently attempting to devour slices five and six, the two forming an almost-sandwich with one stacked atop the other, and what seems to be melted chocolate in the middle. You lunge for her and before she can react you’ve already snagged a bite of the cake; upon which you silently bestow the unparalleled winner of the best cake in history award. The cake itself is moist and practically melts in your mouth, which allows the firm-set icing to ooze through the remaining bready chunks. The chocolate bilayer tinges the whole affair with a richness that is simply beyond compare. Taking a moment to swallow, you realize that Celestia has been trying to talk to you for the past minute; all of the orbital cake slices suspiciously absent.
“Are you okay? Do, do you need to sit down or something?” The worry in Celestia’s face is heartbreaking, and you can’t help but wonder if that’s just how she feels for every one of her subjects and charges.
“No, it’s okay. I was just- I mean, that cake is just so good.” She squints a little, her gaze intensely concentrated on your face.
“Anon, are you crying?” She asks, her voice mirthful and gently teasing.
“No! I, I got cake crumbs in my eyes, and there was a glare off your horn.” You cross your arms somewhat haughtily. “…and anyway, that was really good cake.” She dips her head and smiles at you, eying you coyly as she floats out another piece of cake that she had hidden behind her the whole time. “Cheekiest Princess I ever met.” You admonish her as you scarf the cake down with alacrity. “Though Twilight tells me that you have quite the talent for pulling pranks.”
Celestia gives a horsey snort that you find rather amusing. “Well sure. When you live as long as I do you have to find ways to keep yourself amused.” Her face takes on an inquisitive expression. “Did you have anything in mind?
~
The two of you proceed to become an absolute nuisance around the castle with surprising speed; you start off pretty small, a bucket on a door-frame here, some grease on the eye piece of Luna’s telescope there. But by the time you convince Celestia to levitate a group of nearby earth pony guards on top of the greenhouse roof it seems like castle maintenance is beginning starting to catch on, and the two of you jointly decide to call it a day—after shrinking all the guard armor by half a size of course.
“So, should we head back to the conference room?” You say, spinning a tiny golden helmet on your finger absently.
“Hmmmm, nah. Let me take you somewhere I like a bit better.” You hesitantly follow in the princess’s wake, watching her tail shimmer with each step before she vanishes around a corner.
“Celestia, I’m not really much for surprises. The last big surprise I encountered was a near death experience.” Turning the bend, you come face to face with a massive set of double doors with a fantastically stylized version of Celestia’s cutie mark painted across each. You hesitate for a moment, and then decide just to let yourself in.
“Oh wow.” It’s stunning, almost a little bit hard to look at in its brilliant vivacity.
“That tends to be the first reaction, yes.” Celestia lazily spreads her wings while reclining in another comfortable looking chair; a nearby bowl of potpourri appears to have become an impromptu snack as she picks out the flowers to graze upon.
“It’s… Pink.” Curtains and doorframes and carpets and dressers and a tub large enough to seat at least 6; all varying levels of pink that almost dazzle your eyes against the creamy white backdrop of the surrounding walls.
“Mmmhmm. I know that it’s not really what you’d expect from a royal; we’re supposed to be rather serious about most things according to Luna, but…”
“I think it’s perfect.” You say, thinking back to the lighthearted joy you felt before; the joy in her memories. “It’s fitting. And I hardly think it would do either of you any good to be serious all the time, you have to allow for a certain element of joy in your life. Earlier, when you did that linking thing, I felt how lighthearted and happy you were—even when you have the weight of Equestria constantly on your shoulders. It’s amazing and impressive and not quite what you’d expect; like this room.”
“Thank you, you’re very sweet.” She says in a slightly choked voice. “I’m glad that you feel like you gained something from our link. Linking is so special because you're seeing the personal experience of another, feeling as they feel and, in essence, a unicorn is giving away little pieces of themselves."
You think for a moment. "That's some really heavy info to be giving me at a time like this Celestia."
“Hmm, I suppose that it is a little, er, heavy.” You take advantage of the brief lapse in conversation to take a sip of your tea, when Celestia breaks the silence again. “Would you be willing to ride me?”
In the struggle not to immediately spit your tea out, you wind up inhaling more than half of it instead. “I’m sorry?”
“Oh dear, I haven’t offended you, have I? I was informed that humans often rode on the backs of horses, and I—it’s silly.” You’ve never seen Celestia quite this flustered, and she seems even a little upset.
“Celestia, no, it’s okay! I made a mistake; there was something of a double meaning in the way you asked.” If she wasn’t blushing before, she is now; but you can't help but admit to yourself that she's a very attractive... "What, horse? There is something seriously wrong with me."
You shake away the thought. “And I’d be willing to try it; I’ve never actually ridden a horse before. Besides, it would give those fashion statement saddles I've seen before an actual purpose.”
“Wonderful!” She gets up from her chair, and wobbles a little. “However, I don’t think I’m in quite the state for that right now. And, as it were, I have another request that I hope you can help me fulfill.”
“Anything for you, Princess.” She takes a few slow steps before leaping forward with a snap of her wings, and gliding onto a very comfortable looking four-poster bed. She lies down with grace, her legs folding neatly beneath her as she cranes her neck to look at you.
“W-would you be willing to, ah, pet me?” She turns her face away a little, letting her mane flow across her face in an attempt to hide herself; an attempt that’s not too effective, considering how translucent it is. “Just for a little bit. A minute. ”
“Uh, sure, I can do that.” If your mouth wasn’t dry before, it is now. You make your way over to the bed where Celestia rests, turning her body slightly so as to lie on her side. Taking a rather hesitant seat on the bed, you fidget with your fingers as Celestia looks on in anticipation. “So, do I just, like, start in wherever? Or…”
Celestia answers you wordlessly, shifting herself to bring her head down onto your lap. Her mane pools across your legs, and her head feels heavy on your legs; Celestia’s sleepy and still reddened eyes focusing keenly on your hands. You slowly push your trembling fingers into her mane, a low groan of satisfaction from Celestia pushes you to continue, and you can feel the vibrations of her voice across your lap as you start working your digits against the velvet soft flesh of her neck. You slowly edge your hands higher up, the almost liquid mane flowing around your hands like a sun-warmed brook.
“Ooh! O-oh my.” You just barely clip one of her ears as you near the top of her head, and you carefully take one of them into your hand. Cupping it in your palm, you work your fingers around the edges as delicately as you can; however Celestia seems to have other ideas, now forcibly rubbing her head against your lap and into your palm in an almost cat-like fashion. The thin triangular appendage bends and flaps between your parted fingers, and she squeals with uncontained delight at your willingness to serve.
She’s wriggling now in a way that makes it rather difficult to focus your massage in one place; and the feeling of her head nestled in the crook of your legs and the hot and shallow breaths blasting from her snout aren’t exactly helping you focus on the task at hand. You pull your hands from her mane, and she sits upright with something of a pout playing around her lips.
“Is—it’s over already?” Now you’re the one who answers with action rather than words; you move your hands to her side, and hear her coo with satisfaction as you begin you rub your hands across her sharply angled front shoulders. Gliding your hands firmly down her shoulders and across her chest, you allow yourself a smile at the heavy thumping of her heart. Celestia is smiling too, with half-closed eyes that are glazed and even redder than before. Her belly grumbles slightly as you trace lazy circles around it, but if Celestia is embarrassed she doesn’t show it at all. Instead she giggles in the tinkling tone of a young filly, and your grin widens as you start working your hands a little harder against her belly and sides. This new resolve seems to thrill Celestia, and she rolls over onto her back to allow you full access with a soft grunt of exertion that seems to be more for show than anything else.
Her pale belly lays open and exposed, her legs splayed in a way that would be awkward if it wasn’t so adorable. Your hands make a gentle shoofing sound each time you rub against the grain of her coat, the warm body beneath it reacting to your every touch. Her back legs gyrate slowly, kicking a little faster every time you find a spot that she finds particularly enjoyable. You move across the bed, kneeling down by her rear as you move a little lower down on her tummy, still gently rubbing and tickling in accordance to her kicks and increasingly insistent moans. You take your time, brushing your fingertips across her coat, her legs, the soft nubs of her breasts w-
“Oh.” You realize now that you’ve been massaging her teats for the better part of five minutes now, and the realization feels… Good. Better than good actually; it feels fantastic, and you don’t know if there’s really any way to stop this now.
"But why would you want to, man?" The thought comes to you as is; so simple and optimistic that it could only come from a mind that is deeply under the influence. But it feels right.
Your thumbs slide around the two small circles of bare skin, and a pleased grunt from Celestia acts as all the permission you could need; it’s unspoken, but the feeling in the room is somehow both hazy and electrifyingly hot. You tease and rub at her nipples for a few moments longer before slowly sliding a hand down the shallow valley of her hips; her round ass cheeks are almost soaking wet with her own sticky fluids, and you swallow hard before gently swiping a finger down her slit.
“Oh finally!” Celestia thumps her head back onto the bed in mock exhaustion, and you reward her dramatics by swiftly plunging two fingers into her slick cunt. She cries out again, this time using language that you wouldn’t have expected from someone of her status. Spurred on by her reactions, you start dragging your fingers higher and higher, eventually rubbing over the soft bump of her clit.
It’s as if you jolted her with an electric current, and her eyes snap wide open as opens her mouth in a wordless scream. Her tongue lolls from her mouth as you pump your fingers in and out at a steady pace, her sensitive button hitting against your fingers again and again; the winking only speeds up the pace as her walls contract with almost enough force to push you out, and the alicorn is now rocking her hips back and forth in the pursuit of more, more pleasure to be gained. Grinding her hips furiously against your hand, Celestia is beyond any kind of normal expression, snorting and gasping for air in equal measure. You suddenly begin to curl your fingers inside her, feeling them glide with ease inside her sticky snatch.
“G-guh, oh my!” Her horn glows with the intensity of a million lumens, forcing you to shut your eyes as she screams out from the throes of orgasmic joy; her body feels almost too hot to stand touching as she rides out wave after wave of blissful climax, each impassioned moan growing softer and more hoarse. Suddenly there is a silence except for the gentle rustling of bed-sheets, and you determine that it is safe to open your eyes.
The room is a mess. Somehow all the furniture has found itself along the northern wall in something of a tangled heap. A chair sticks out from a wall by its legs, the pink upholstery adorned with a smattering of thrown potpourri. And on the bed lies a sticky, softly snoring Celestia.
With a soft sigh, you accept that she’s going to be the only one satisfied tonight; she’s had a rather long day with you after all, and at any rate you’ve been invited back to the castle to talk about implementation of your, shall we say ‘product.’ You wipe your hand on the sheet and with a gentle kiss on Celestia’s snout take your leave of the royal bedchamber, secure in the knowledge that it’s far from your last visit.
~
You step out into the brightly lit courtyard and Twilight appears with a speed that almost makes you think she’s been tracking you. Then again, she probably could do that with ease.
“So, how did meeting wi-“ Twilight stops mid-sentence, a half-smile still on her face as her nostrils flare.
“Shit, how much do you smell like sex right now to a horse?” You think to yourself. “All of it. You smell like all the sex to the sensitive nose of a goddamn horse.” “Uh, things went super great but I’m beat, do you want to just head home? I can take the carriage if you want to just teleport home or sOH MY GOD SOMEONE HELP ME.”
Twilight had picked you up and thrown you into the carriage with a quick flip of the locks, shutting the two of you in as your sled-team of pegasi began to take you airborne.
“You… And the p-princess…” Twilight’s face is just inches from yours, each breath deep and fast as she attempts to take in every last bit of the scent. “I hope you know that I spent all day in the library copying down old data on sexual stimuli in humans.” She whispers, her intonation dangerous and thick with lust. “And I am a very, very, frustrated pony.”
She sits back in the seat across from you, her face now expressionless and somehow even more terrifying. “Tonight; you.”
You turn your body to face the window, hoping that the sun decides not to set today.
~
“Sister, are you sure that you’ve not taken ill? The sun does need to set sometime this day.” Luna says, cocking her head at her sister.
“Uh, yes, I have this.” Celestia stands atop the observatory, wracking her brain to remember how to make the sun set. “I just need, like, two seconds.”
“Very well.” Luna flaps her wings with a rather exaggerated exasperation. “Also, please make sure that the human stays for a little while longer the next visit; it’s hardly fair that only one of us should get to partake in his rather enjoyable skill set.”
Celestia finally remembers the incantation to lower the sun, and slowly begins dropping it over the horizon much to the fearful panic of the guest she entertained earlier. “Sister dear, the last time you ‘partook’ we had to treat Gustav for exhaustion and a fractured hip.”
Luna shrugged as she brought the moon up for the night, her horn aglow with the brilliant white of silica dust and pale starlight. "As you wish Sister; we shall try not to ride him with too much intensity."
Celestia allowed herself a quiet giggle as she took her leave of the observatory. "Funny; it's actually supposed to go the other way around."
