Mama talked about days like this
It should, I think, be of note my feelings at the time in our little ponies. In the face of a sudden and soul withering display of my affliction, one that sent all into panic, they did calm themselves before our Guard, who had as told and planned, blocked the Festival exits, and when instructed to return to the summons, did so with little complaint. That is, to their credit, not to say they were as our subjects in our early rule, who looked on their Prince with disgust, and pity, or worse, saw it as some form of societal machination, insisting it a blessing in utter disregard to the simple facts of said scenario. But there were also no calls for my person to be caused harm or demands I relinquish my newly found niche of Court. But I was still expected, respectfully, to please explain matters as soon as I could.
But ah me, what beauty attended me as it did in my first days home. I have eyes for nothing else, not for Guard, nor gathering, nor friend or counsel, so enchanted I am with her as she works, a healer assigned to the Viceroy's house, and it thrills my heart to see its glyph, my glyph, my order, still in.
It had been one of the few times our Sire had ever been proud. When I say that,of course, ponies think I some victim of abuse, that Titus was some monster or such. Nay, but we were held to high standard. He was King, we were alicorns, and we were expected to meet, and exceed, his expectations. Celestia had ever been his favorite, and truly, deserved to be so. Celestia had always been the more learned and sociable, speaking little save when speaking was needed. She was so much like Titus, its eery. Of course, I bear much the same. My temper, bull headed methodology, and warrior and societal philosophies stem largely from him, largely retained in private moments between us, much as he and sister left and ran about to hunt. I've heard it oft asserted jealousy or sisters lording it over me, but really, I was glad she had an influence. Truly, I know not what possessed me to seek him out... Our was a cold love, I honored him, but really, had no real need or want for him. I had grown, was a warrior... But one day, I had a few moments, and I wrote my letter.
The funding for my collegium was entirely drawn from the various plunder I'd taken in my adventures about, from dragons mostly. I had hidden it in various supply forms and general chatter of ideas, moments of meeting him at home at some formal what have you and had a reason. The matter had only been brought up once: he had asked me to walk with him a time, in regards to couple of more stupid colts in the regiments. He had taken into one of the more secure halls, and looking back at me, he frowned.
"Artemis... What are you doing? You've been drawing heavily from your accounts for nearly a year now. My love, I know you a good head and wouldn't be anything untowards, but what could you possibly need such a sum for?"
Two thoughts came to my mind then: one, of course he found out. Our father was an earth pony, and in many ways, was a walking characateur of some of the less endearing qualities they have. Two... he didn't know.
I stared at him for a time then. He scowled his usual scowl, but it was obvious he was on edge. I kicked myself at that: My first thought is the skinflint has caught me out, but no. I had just given him no reason to doubt or question my motives or authority. So, I asked him for time. The Collegium was near finished building, and I'd show 'd him it and what I planned before we stocked our libraries. He tapped a hoof a moment, then nodded. And with that, that old berserker went back to the minutiaes of Equestria politics. Or talking with his head wife. Or seeking a couple of the older ones various counsels. Or power fucking a younger one in some random room.
One often remembers fondly their parents sayings in events, with amusement we recall some response of their in lifes annoyances. Father had managed to deter much of his exhaustion and the crowns endless cries with his terrifying numerous maids and pages with a door opening being greeted with a bellow of "Don't worry my fuck when I working my dick, you lookin to get one on the bonce ya cunt!"
Indeed, my sires fucks were in all circumstances care free and happy as clams. Because it never stopped. At all. Ever. As the healer continued her duties, I flatten my brow at that thought.
It never interfered with duty, and skies clear, Maker knows theres enough ponies with parents who still remained married but never even spoke to each other due to their contempt. Or perhaps the oft senseless and contradictary moral imperatives of our subjects at times bristled at our families... affectionate disposistion. And so, as one can imagine, when we met to see my works, the fact he came alone floored. He looked at me, with a expression I'd never seen, and would never again. It was, wistful, angry, like he was a dog who just couldn't get comfortable. He walked to the edge of a cliff, and kicked a stone into the ravine below.
"Son... Artemis. You aren't merely a royal, or Equestrian... your of my people. We berserkers... well, I'm pleased to see I did some things right, and know I pushed to hard in others... And I know you know all that sire love and all that..."
He walked back to me, and put his hoof on my pauldron.
"In our lands, a stallion and colt, usual the father and son, but a close friend or uncle if their gone, well... we go for a walk with them. I don't think you and I've done that... Not really."
I merely shake my head... He nods again, then begins down the path to the collegiums ground entrance, then looks back, and face hooves. Well, come now, how was I supposed to know he meant right then, I figured we'd walk the lands the next day or something! He just snorted in that sire way he had, then continued on. I had of course walked with him, we had spent much time about together, and just us I might add. But... But I felt a pang at that. He and Celestia, just did things. They just wandered and talked... and it wasn't that he was all smiles and huggable. But he had always been more... advisory with her, I think. Sister has always claimed its because I was the smart one, and shes vexed at how low maintenance I was.
I had always... known, I suppose, that I wasn't how stallions were where he was born... or even Equestria. I've often been seen in terms feminine, and admit I do possess a more lithe and wolf like frame to my subjects burly bear brutes and snarling lion intimidators. Much of our ponies ways is saber rattling, I've found... But me, I am a lithe quick wolf. But despite my prowess in war and blade, I still had to deal with those who saw me as some pampered palace show colt, particularly with my pegasus. And that was when it came to me... Much of who I was was him.
As we walked, I tried not to, well, be anything but stoic, but yes, I merely watched him, and went from there. He'd never just tell me things. Aye, I was ordered as a king does a soldier, but things like how I should live life, or be a stallion. But he still taught me... When there was something needed repair, mend. When one had duties, do them. Treat your mares like your queens and hide away the hurt. Always... the wrath will be there.
I paused in our stride... I marvel at that, even now. He strode. His walk, and gait, and mere presence... ponies and people moved from his path not out of fear or mere ceremony, but because he was a stallion with duties, and they would be done. But, he was also always angry. Not at us, not me or Celestia. Just... Just furious with life. He walked back to me, and hesitated... then he brushed my mane from my forehead. I know it seems odd, but I realized then I'd gotten taller then him. It mattered not, even as I am, even now, I could not face him... but I was grown. And yes, he was doing a silly thing, like I was addled...
But it was never done with anger. Even when he had to see me punished, and he did with not a qualm nor tear, it was never because I'd angered him or failed him or wasn't what he wanted. He just wanted me, Celestia... he wanted us to be ponies, people, that could be relied on. As he put his hoof down, I thought of our mother...
He had raped her. That is how we were concieved. But... not in the way one would believe. She and him had concocted matters that he would fuck her in an open display of her defeat. It was, in no uncertain terms, to be made clear to the masses that even the once untouchable Queen was but a mere hitch in his stride. Father made clear his utter willingness, if need be, to commit atrocity. He had held the nobles in utter and blatant contempt, and caused untold mayhem when their offense and demands for due respect was met with a simple request: do something to earn it. And when they turned on him after mothers defilement... he strode out and shattered them like kindling. He made no compromise or great speech... he said they could obey and honor their king, or he would treat them as traitors.
Before her supposed assault, Father had learned of how his new subjects had responded to the grand event: in celebration. Mother was to be forced full of a bloody berserkers cock, and they were... glad. I do not look away as I think these things... He merely waits. I should hate him, his wives know, our alpha, she had a moral imperative to see him disgraced and her displeasure known... but he never wanted that. He hated that he did that, but he hated mother more.
Those two loathed each other... Him because she was simply... atrocious. She was an objectively wretched and dull mare who had run her nation aground and assumed that he, and his people, would play by her rules, or even care about what was actually owed. She spent her entitled and pampered life in utter loathing for any who were any lower then upper noble... and expected love from the she admitted to holding in such low esteem. She was a stupid, vindictive, ultimately cowardly pony who was quite content with her forced rutting... as long as it let her keep some higher rung on my families herd and allowed her to retain comfort.
She had frankly told Titus a cock was to be fucked in her against her will in one way or another, and more then likely done by some half drunk dullard who'd have shoved a retard or gimp with his pickled dick in thanks for her agreement. Titus was a very appealing stallion, it was assured. He was the one mares wanted to have foals with, and would have killed to have him be the one who raised them. And a large part of this, this allure, was his integrity. There were lines he would not cross, or allow others... And he was ready in his refusal...
"I do hope your brood mare does not feel so put out but her displacement."
Displacement... So, not only was she expecting to see to the end her marriage and welcoming in a herd, she thought that meant she was placed a middle spot. No,the berserkers have even been known haters of whores and entitled whores deserve special regard. So, he had her, and she screamed. But then began to screech in earnest, and demand, then plead, then screech again, and swear their deaths within a fort nite. He had our mother... and why would he want so free one who made clear her desires. After, while her subjects cheered and stomped and praised Titus for his deed. Mother limped up to him, incensed to the point he wondered why her heart hadn't popped, and poking his in his chest, demanding his company and indeed any clear for the day to see her luggage was properly tended to.
"No."
He shoved her back, but stopped in an instant when the stud got close, his teeth in a snarl.
"Mare... I got five mares already. Five I'm not only caring for and of because some quotes in some book. Five mares who know that even if someone do that... If someone raped them, I wouldn't see them any less and couldn't love them anymore. And if they couldn't stand me because of such a thing.... then I leave. For those mares, I will bend like a fucking reed. But there is one thing I cannot bear..."
And so, he informed her of her standing: she had none. She was not his wife, special mare he'd break out for the in laws when you just couldn't settle for the usual cheap harlots, a practice mare, or those odd stallions who had informed us he was their so they could practice kissin on.
And then he left. He was followed quite doggedly, but he went home to his herd and foals and informed them they had a guest. She was to be given food and water, but anything else she had to earn. She was allowed there because he compromised, and he had a duty to see her cared for... And then he stomped up to her and told her in his sire snarl all that stuff she had on her back, well, darn the luck, still needed a bride price. She merely sputtered and spat... but she was stuck. She was and is an absolutely useless creature... and no, I don't care what father did. She only cried foul when she couldn't use it to her own ends, and saw us as the same. She stayed in her nice quiet room, away from the family, and she was given enough to live and grow old. All else was either of her duties, an act of pity, or gotten through ruse.
I remember Celestia... tried. Tried to love her... but she just told her how she was a victim, how they were thieves and deviants and usurpers... How Titus had ruined her pedigree and shattered her crown with his utter barbarity.
"The decisions we make, reflect us alone."
Father had said it one night... He had come running in from the storm he and Celestia had been in... bandits and sellswords, he had to do what was needed... Our herds merely nodded and drew close, and I watched from a door frame. He was in his barding... and was snarling at his mares. At his head wife! They just cooed and tried to draw close, and I wanted to scream for them to run.
The look on his face... and the blood on his armor. He was a mad bad pony. He had to have been, I reasoned. Who else but a bad pony would do what had to be done to be drenched as he was. He dripped... but the rain had only begun to fall. He dripped with those he had torn apart after they laughed at his offer of leniency... he was a berserker. He gave them a chance...
And all the time, Celestia huddled at his side. She... she was as red as him. She just froze, she said later. She couldn't even begin to think what he did was real. She knew he was a king... but it was only that night when it was clear to her what one must do to be a king. And how far he would go for us, if needed.
I stood at the doorway to her room when he said that to her... And Celestia said it to a mare who could not even begin to imagine that she was ever anything but a toy makers creation, and never at fault. And years later... I say it again. He sighs, and sits down. He looks... so old and worn then. As strong as ever, even more so, but just so tired of... everything. He ran his hoof through his mane, and I wondered when he had greyed. When had he... just stopped being angry.
"Aye, it is so. And we cannot run from ourselves."
But I didn't want to run from ponies... but have them come to us! I spun around, and asked what he saw. Ruins, old homes... I grabbed his leg and pulled him forward. A collegium! Great halls of knowledge, and learning. We would not merely house books and tomes, but share them! I had made allies and admirers who shared this vision, who, people so different and so far away, ones who saw what I saw, and knew what I knew...
I let his leg drop, and sat down on an old bench... and looked around. I was laughing... I wept.
"Look at it all... Look... This, this wasn't just some temple, or some place on a map... Ponies... they sent their books and tomes and knowledge here, to keep it safe... And they died for it."
I looked down at the cobbled floors, and wiped my eyes. I couldn't help it, I just couldn't stop. I was a stallion, son of Titus...
"Its not right. Its not fair. And everyone, every damned one of us, hates this place just as much as the person their speaking too. And too many are willing to kill that same person to get a little more time in it or a little more of it... or kill them because they wanted to change."
He stood where he was... and I looked up to see him staring out into the courtyard.
"So... all they need, in your eyes, is a chance? Is that is all one needs?"
He walked out from under the shade of the hall into the light... And stood before a great monument. I stood beside him... and ran my hooves over its faded letters. I couldn't read its writing, but I was familar with such thing in such places. It had been a war marker. Father and I had found them everywhere.
"My son... This place... this wonderful thing you seek... The day will come, not today, nor tommorow... but soon enough, you'll be somepony so twisted..."
I put my wing over his shoulder, he didn't weep... He glared. At the stone, at what he saw there...
"Have I not done enough... I am still of hale health, all I want is to see my grandfoals if I can, or leave them a safe place to grow... I spent my life in this... this dead silent tomb. Artemis... I wish you well in this, I do my love..."
He pulled from my, and looked at me as he did that night... a desperate shivering shell over a heart that had known not but pain and even when good things came, came too late. He took a shaky step back as I reached to him.
"No. No more. I've led my life, and will lead my lead... But I've seen enough of suffering and pain..."
He walked from there, my collegium... I sighed, and shook my head. I had such contempt for my Father then. I knew the coin and support would come, that they would all be built. All I asked from him is to at least try... but no, I thought. Ah well, at least I can at least say I tried.
As I lay one my side, as the healer works, I consider what my fathers work has seen into my flesh... I think I can begin now... There is a lesson here, my ponies. And about are those teach and are taught. We wait for the healers works end... then our lesson.
I smile my prince smile as I regard my precious student.
Now... lets hear her diagnosis...
