A Discordant Night

by saarni

Rating: everyone
Tags: Fluttershy, Discord, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2395

Anypony would be sent a little loopy trapped in stone for a thousand years, but the God of Chaos is aiming for a little mischief before he reaches the end of his tether.

Inside a stone statue at the far end of the castle's gardens sits Discord; imprisoned for a thousand years since Celestia and Luna defeated him in combat, he awaits the moment when he will be free and he can have his revenge! Until then, he has to listen to the shenanigans taking place at the annual Grand Galloping Gala. Perhaps the pink and yellow pony who has wandered into the garden looking to make friends with some exotic animals will provide some momentary amusement?

Published 2019-01-08 22:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-01-08 22:10:01 UTC

I. Perfect Chaos

The first couple of centuries after his imprisonment, those had been the worst; after that, the next couple of centuries had been on a rapid downward trajectory into a whole new miasma of utter boredom that Discord didn’t even have the words to describe properly. It wasn’t so much the years, it was having to experience them all in a sequential order. Oh, sure, being powerless and encased in stone was a pretty awful fate in and of itself, but having to suffer through the indignities of a linear existence on top of that! Well, how was that meant to make a God of Chaos feel? He’d long ago resolved that, should he ever find a way out of this nightmarish state, he’d track down Time and banish it to one of the less salubrious sub-realities.

Discord didn’t – for obvious reasons – like to think too much about the day that Celestia and Luna had used their precious Elements of Harmony to imprison him; most likely, they hadn’t known that this would be the end result. They’d probably expected him to be destroyed, atomised, completely. Maybe he was stronger than they’d thought? Maybe the Elements had their own agenda? Maybe he didn’t care and the only way to pass the time was by thinking about rhetorical questions?

Regardless, over the past century or so, the spell – not so much the literal stone entombing him – had been crumbling around him. The effect had been subtle at first, but Discord soon found that, with a concerted effort of will, he could flex the cognitive equivalent to a little finger. Unfortunately, his position meant that there was very little for him to exert any influence over. The myriad tiny animals that made the garden their home weren’t bright enough to enact any real mischief on his behalf. The garden itself was tastefully bland: well-tended lawns, trimmed hedges, a few marble columns dotted about. And, of course, the statues. Not all of them were of vanquished foes, however.

So close now, I can almost taste it. Whatever was causing the spell to weaken, Discord hoped that it would continue. Perhaps there was some kind of negative energy in the atmosphere, something that ran counter to the harmonic nature of the Elements which protected this land? If that was the case, it was good to know that Equestria hadn’t entirely bent itself to Celestia’s will. What was the point of Order without a little Chaos every now and then? Perhaps, when I’m free, I shall imprison Celestia in a similar fashion. A thousand years of mute torment ought to give her a little perspective.

Ah, but tonight was an opportunity, was it not? Had he not overheard two officious oafs discussing the annual yawn-fest that was the Grand Galloping Gala? Next to the Best Young Flier competition in Cloudsdale, it was the place for petty rivalries to form, for spiteful love affairs to blossom, and – on its better nights – a plot or two to overthrow Celestia and form a democracy or a republic or some such political nonsense. They never amounted to much, fuelled more by the copious amounts of free alcohol than they were by any genuine desire for societal reform, but with a little pushing, a little goading.

Too slowly, the night arrived; even with his senses limited by his imprisonment, Discord could sense the ripple of conflicting emotions that flowed through the castle’s hallways like a torrential, id-driven river; its force was almost overwhelming, and had he access to his full range of powers, he could have affected it in so many ways. Control, twist, manipulate. Destroy, even. The proud newcomers to the event shone the brightest of all, not having yet become jaded by how disappointing the gala truly was once you were on the inside rather than looking in on it from the outside.

Six souls in particular caught his mind’s eye; they burned with an intensity that was unusual in such ephemeral, weak beings as little ponies. There was something strangely familiar about it, too. Puzzled, Discord tried in vain to figure out what it was. They all seemed especially delighted to be there, however, and he got the sense that there’d been some kerfuffle over their tickets or something.

No less amusing were the reactions from those that were veterans of the event, with the sentiments ranging from cautious optimism to outright despair:

“My wife wanted to go, so here I am. Have to keep her away from all those hors-d’oeuvres.”

“The president of the largest factory in Manehattan is here. I’m hoping to get on his golf team.”

“I’m not a fan of the gala at all, but I’d be dying a social death if I DIDN’T at least show my face.”

And so on and so forth.

What this party needed was some Discord, but with the majority of the guests concentrated in and around the elaborate, multi-tiered ballroom – sipping wine, shovelling fun-sized versions of popular snack foods down their fat necks, making lame jokes to those who’d had a sense-of-humour bypass – they were too far away for him to use his weakened abilities on. He might not have been able to do much to them, but it’d still be better than this aching boredom. Such delicious chaos to be had: chocolate rain, hybrid animals, an abomination or three? The Smooze would’ve fit right in here. Being a gelatinous blob monster, he fit in most places. Even woefully-undersized overhead storage compartments.

There was one, though. One pony had a spirit that he empathised with; it was anarchic, random, it took pleasure in the simple joy of spreading joy, even if it wasn’t necessarily wanted or appreciated. Waves of blank incomprehension followed where it strutted its amusing, if limited, stuff. Maybe ponies weren’t so bad after all?

His attention was forced away from the gala proper and drawn suddenly to a pony-shaped mass of pink and yellow making its way into the garden; for some reason, it had adorned itself with what appeared to be a tent of green fabric. The purpose of this totally eluded Discord’s grasp, since it was much too thin to be for warmth or protection from the elements. When the pony took in the plethora of animals who made the castle’s copious grounds their home it uttered an ungodly, high-pitched wail that, had it not being magically-reinforced, Discord was sure could’ve shattered his prison by its very pitch alone.

Oh, I see. Realisation dawned quickly on Discord. This pony was one of those odd, socially-awkward ones who leaned in favour of the company of lower-order beasts due to some sort of childhood trauma that made it difficult for them to relate to their peers. Can’t blame it, really. After a thousand years of nothing but castle gossip to listen to, Discord could honestly say that he much preferred to listen to incoherent tweets, too. Well, I can work with this, can’t I?

Devious thoughts filled Discord’s mind; it was a rare moment he wasn’t thinking something utterly appalling, of course, but they were usually a bit more prosaic. Revenge schemes and such. He broke out into a conceptual smile as his mouth was still utterly immobile. This one, by his standards, was rather small, but it was something. It was achievable with his currently limited powers. For a fleeting moment, Discord felt something very much like joy in the black, aching void where his heart wasn’t and had never been.

Sifting through the pony’s mind, Discord sought something that could be used against it; he wasn’t quite strong enough yet to penetrate its mind fully and read its thoughts, but he could glean some surface impressions. Those would have to do for now. Almost everything seemed to reinforce his initial impression that it was a brittle, easily-cowed creature, however. Bullied in school. Near-death experiences. Lived alone and shunned social activities as much as possible. Boring. Finally, he found something of interest: a natural affinity for animals of all types. It seemed that it could bring even the most vociferous of creatures to heel with nothing more than a strong look and a few words. Interesting. Discord made a mental note of that for the future.

This pony had a strong desire to be accepted and appreciated, he sensed, especially by the animals it worked so hard to treat. All he had to do to cause a bit of a stir was reverse the polarity of the pony’s special ability and the animals would react as they would to anypony else: with fear and suspicion. It was just within his constraints to do so, so long as the pony remained roughly within his field of view. With a figurative snap of his thumb, Discord put his plan into action and prepared to savour the carnage that was sure to ensue.

Watching the young, confused pony dart this way and that in pursuit of the animals, bellowing obscenities as its every effort to meet them was frustrated, filled Discord with uproarious laughter. Sensing its anxiety building up like a volcano ready to burst as the creatures it loved so much rejected it was like music to his chaos-starved mind. The animals continued to hide in whatever nooks and crannies they could find, their own collective fear equally as palpable to Discord as the pony’s consternation. The pink and yellow pony just wasn’t used to this sort of behaviour and it had no idea how to react. It didn’t help that Discord was using what little power remained to him to prod at its wellspring of pent-up anger and resentment.

True, this pony’s soul seemed to be purer than most, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have a breaking point and that was fast approaching. It was a screeching, dishevelled mess, and it was hard to imagine – even if Discord hadn’t been screwing with it – anybeing would find it the least bit approachable in this state. It was now nothing more than an overinflated balloon filled with neuroses just waiting to be popped.

With nothing more than a carefully-applied bit of chaos, Discord had turned one of the sweetest souls in Equestria into a hideous banshee on the verge of a full-blown, eye-twitching psychotic break.

Picture what I could do with my full arsenal of powers available to me! When Equestria is once again at my mercy, this will be the new normal. Nothing and nopony will be able to stand against me, not even the Elements of Harmony.

Happiness washed over Discord; it was a balm for his weary, long-trapped soul. It was a shame it couldn’t last longer, but his power was now almost extinguished and it would be a while before he’d be strong enough to try anything like this again. Unless whatever was weakening the spell encasing him here continued to work its magic, of course. He so wished that he could lie back on the grass and have a full and proper belly-laugh at the furore he’d provoked, but watching the bedraggled pony force itself after the animals time after time was a victory enough in itself. The final culmination was when the pony and its unwilling entourage stormed the ballroom proper, sending guests and servants alike scattering in a cloud of mayhem.

Soon, though, as it always did, the joy paled and the reality of the situation hit him square in the stomach: the gala was now over, and he’d missed out on hearing all those trivial gripes and resentments. They weren’t much, but they sustained him in the long days between events when nopony but the gardener attended the grounds. Sure, it had been fun, but annoying one pony into submission brought him no closer to his ultimate goal of being free and paying Celestia back in kind for his torment. Sighing inwardly, Discord listened in as best he could to the departing ponies, hoping that there’d be something there for him to use.

Nothing.

In fact, many of them seemed curiously upbeat, as if the chaos of the past few moments had actually … entertained them. He found that insulting when he was in here for simply trying to bring a little humour to ponies’ lives. A couple were yammering on about some important lesson or other that they’d learned that night. Unfortunately, none of them were close enough by that he could directly affect them. Fooling around with that one pony just now had been so taxing on his reserves. Better luck next year, I suppose.

Returning on this day would have been delightful; almost everypony who mattered would have been here in the castle, and they would have stood in mute testimony as he vanquished Celestia and that bratty little sister of hers once and for all. That truly would have been an entertainment to savour, but it was making stupid mistakes like that which had resulted in his imprisonment in the first place. He’d been too lax, allowing Celestia and Luna to live, to go off and find the Elements and bring them back to Equestria, eventually resulting in his deposition. No, after a thousand years, he was older and wiser, and he’d make darn and Tartarus-blast sure that the ponies had no way of stopping him once he was finally free! No more overlooking the small details in favour of the big picture any more.

Discord listened intently. It was about all he could do for a long while. As long as nopony suspected his influence over that hysterical yellow introvert, Celestia would have no cause for alarm. The last thing he needed was for her to tighten security around the palace. She’s probably forgotten all about me by now. I will have to slowly and painfully remind her of who I am once I get the chance to do so. I’ll make her watch as I unbuild everything she has sought to do in Equestria. After a thousand years of this, I can wait a little longer.

*

Months later, Discord awoke from whatever it was he did instead of sleeping. His mind went somewhere, and he wasn’t altogether sure where it was. He could hear voices. Arguing, plaintive voices. Children.

Cracks began to form in his prison. He smiled coldly.

It was time.