It was dark inside the castle. Dark and safe. All the better to hide from the monster prowling around beyond its walls.
“Where is she?” the monster howled, stomping back and forth through the gardens out front — hedges and beds of roses all trampled beneath claws sharper than sewing needles, and pillars of muscles and scales sturdier than the hardest redwoods.
He’d come marching all the way from the darkest depths of the underworld, full of expressionless statues wrapped in garish threads, and stockpiles of jewels and silks of the finest quality — so beautiful and soft that she often found herself making a pile of them herself, when he and the other one weren’t looking.
Sometimes she fell asleep on them. Sometimes she was caught.
This time was different.
“Where’s the little rascal gone off to?”
The princess giggled. She knew he’d find her eventually, and when he did, she had a plan. A very good plan. A plan that worked every time, without fault.
She’d faced this monster before. She’d won against him before.
And every time, he tried his luck again.
“How dare she steal my wife’s cookies. How dare she make faces at her father. The nerve! For shame!” He continued pacing, closer and closer, each step sending a rumble through the floor, making the castle shake. “These are crimes that shouldn’t go unpunished.”
She didn’t know what a crime was, but it certainly sounded like fun.
“I’ve searched high and low, low and high, even under the bed!” The world shook as the monster sat down, which made her giggle even more, and through the gap in the curtains of the entrance to the castle, she saw him bring the back of a clawed hand to his brows. “But alas! Woe is me! The bandit queen has yet to be found.”
“I’m not a queen!” she cried, breaking cover just for the moment. Surely the fact he couldn’t see her would mask where her voice was coming from. “I’m a princess!”
“A princess?” the monster queried, sounding genuinely surprised. “That can’t be right. Princesses are good. They raise the sun and moon; they teach friendship and kindness.”
He didn’t need to tell her; her aunt was a princess, and she looked up to her like a flower to the sky. When she didn’t have the rest of her family to look up to, of course — she loved them all, every single one, and they were also good. Princesses themselves, in everything but name.
“But this one? No.” The monster stood again and began strolling toward the castle directly, his gait casual, his tone calm and collected. “This one is anything but.”
He was wrong, and she laughed at how wrong he was; she was a good ruler — her three little mice could attest to that, huddled safely in their corner. One even had a helmet she made herself, complete with a small peacock feather taped to the front for a plume. She spent hours trying to hunt the bird down, only for another aunt to talk to it and have it give her what she wanted.
It still seemed a little miffed, but her aunt said something about how she didn’t know what she was doing. Which didn’t sound right, but the peacock nodded all the same, and flew away without a fuss.
The monster sat down once more, just outside the entrance, then slid to his stomach, blocking out the light like a solar eclipse. “This one is something far more special.”
The princess readied herself, a scrunched-up smirk on her muzzle and a gallant glint in her eyes.
He slowly poked his large head through, a long, broad snout parting the white fabric on either side. Lips that hid teeth as large and sharp as kitchen knives were taut in a wide, kindly grin, and pools of emerald peered through the gloom at her, shining like the gems kept in the stockpiles down below.
It was a monster she knew all too well.
“This one,” Daddy continued, “is my little girl.”
And then she leapt at him, latching onto his face, screaming her warcry and giving him everything she had like the heroes of old — like her family was famed for.
“Argh!” He shot upright, twirling around and fumbling about, stumbling blindly as he desperately tried to throw her off. “Foiled again! Oh, how could I have been so naïve?!”
“Have at you!” She gave his neck a few solid whacks. “Down with the tyrant!”
“No!” He flailed his clawed hands, staggering back and narrowly missing a network of railways she’d spent her whole birthday unpacking and constructing. “Not like this! Something more dignified at lease, please! Have mercy!”
“No mercy for the wicked!” she declared, then plunged the sword for his heart.
His eyes went wide and he let out a startled, choked grunt, his whole body going stiff as he held the blade close. And then, after a short while of stillness, he took a step back, and then another, and then fell against the wall and slowly slithered down, until his legs and tail were sprawled and the only sound he was making was a pained whine, quiet and sad.
She hopped down, careful to miss the paper for glitter portraits she hadn’t finished yet, then drew her sword from the dying beast.
He grunted again, both hands over his heart now, staring at the ceiling with shallow breaths. Not the greatest battle ever fought, but one for the history books all the same, and another win to add to her unbeaten record.
“Curses,” he hissed, shaking his head in small, soft motions. “Slain by my own daughter. I thought I’d been a good father, but no. No, some wild hearts can’t be tamed.”
She giggled, flourishing the sword and sliding it against her side like she saw samurai did on television. She didn’t always know what was going on, and some parts scared her, and Mummy and Daddy sent her to bed when they caught her watching from the living room entrance, but some of the images stuck — actions she’d practice in her spare time.
She liked them. They made her feel awesome, like her other aunt.
“You’re a cruel one, Crystal Clarity,” Daddy said, turning to her, a wild look in his eyes and a slight tremble in his body. “I shall be… avenged!”
And then he seized up, and then he went limp, his forked tongue lolling out of an open mouth.
Crystal waited, carefully inspecting him up and down. “You’re still breathing, Daddy.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are.” She drew her blade again and prodded his stomach with the tip. “Dead bodies don’t breathe.”
“And just how many dead bodies have you seen?”
“I’m a princess!” she exclaimed indignantly, mixed with a sense of pride as she raised the sword above her head. “A warrior princess! I’ve seen a bajillion soldiers fight and die for me!”
“A bajillion?” Daddy repeated, genuinely fascinated as he rolled to his side and propped his head on a clawed fist, smiling once more. “That’s more than all the ponies in Equestria.”
“My kingdom is bigger than Equestria.”
“Bigger than Equestria?”
“Bigger than all the other kingdoms.” She started marching off with a sense of duty in her step. “As big as the world, and full of ice-cream.”
“What flavour?”
“Strawberry, with raspberry bits in it.”
“Ooh, that sounds lovely!” Daddy rolled over some more, now on his stomach. “Can I come?”
“Only if you swear to serve,” she announced, stopping in her tracks and wheeling back to him with a defiant, determined expression, planting her sword in a small pile of pillows beside her. “You’ll be rewarded.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smirked. “I take back what I said, Crystal; you’re a kind and benevolent despot, and the world would be lucky to call you its lady.”
She paused, blinking, frowning lightly as she cocked her head. “What’s a despot?”
Daddy blinked too, his brows faintly rising as his smile faded, only to return moments later in another, more sly smirk. He leaned in and gestured for her to come closer.
Sensing something interesting afoot, she obeyed.
He brought a hand up to the side of his muzzle and said, only slightly louder than a whisper, “It’s what your mother is.”
“I heard that, you big oaf.”
She and Daddy snapped around to the bedroom entrance.
There stood Mummy, leaning on a shoulder against the doorframe, beaming a smirk of her own. She made clothes, but she rarely wore any around the house. Even so, she was beautiful — radiant like the sun on a field of violets in spring, and her eyes as deep, as blue, as luscious as the sapphires she kept.
But right now, Clarity wasn’t sure if she should be afraid or not; she’d been hiding from her, after all.
A quick glance at Daddy told her that he wasn’t so sure either.
“Found the little devil, did you?”
“Uh…” He shut his mouth, blinking and shaking his head. Then he offered a coy smile, tapping a talon against the back of his other hand. “I did, as a matter of fact. Playing princess in her castle.”
“I’m not playing!” she corrected peevishly, then sat on her haunches and puffed out her cheeks and chest. “I am.”
Mummy looked to her. “Oh, you are, are you?” she queried, raising her brows and nodding slowly. “Well then, it wasn’t very ladylike of you to gobble up those cookies I’d specifically made for myself.”
“I’m a dragon,” Crystal explained very matter-of-factly, hoping this sense of bravery would last longer than it probably would. “I take what I want, and burn the rest.”
Again, she nodded, still beaming that smirk of hers. Then she turned it on Daddy and fluttered her eyelashes. “Spike, darling, I thought we said we’d try to curb this behaviour, not encourage it.”
“And we will, we will,” he soothes, waving a hand up and down. “Just give her time, and she’ll get the hang of it eventually.”
“You said the same thing when she ate the rubies off of Lyra’s wedding gown.”
“That doesn’t make it any less true.”
She puckered her lips, twisting them, humming to herself doubtfully before swinging back to Crystal. And she lingered on her for a long moment, examining her before pulling away from the frame and standing entirely on her own four hooves. “Well then, in the meantime, perhaps it’s time for a little regime change.”
Crystal cocked her head. “A… what?”
“Your castle, honey,” Daddy whispered, glancing meaningfully at it. “She’s after your throne.”
Her eyes went wide as saucers, snapping from him to Mummy to the cardboard box in the corner of the room, painted as well could be expected from someone of her talent: immaculately. White everything, sometimes with purple patterns and golden highlights. She always had a knack for knowing what colours to use.
“No!” Crystal cried, then darted over for the entrance to stand in front of it, brandishing the sword yet again. “I’ll fight to my last breath! A princess never gives up, never surrenders!”
“Oh, how noble of you, my little champion!” Mummy gushed, strolling closer like Daddy had done — like she knew something, and expected Crystal to know it too. “But there’s one flaw in your master plan.”
“Name it, and I shall conquer my weakness.”
“Ah, but this is a weakness that cannot be conquered,” she replied, in a way that said that if she were a dragon, she’d be waggling a talon at her, “Not easily, and certainly not by one as young as you, so new to the world and its ways, and your own impulses.”
“Do not speak in tongues, she-demon, or I’ll remove yours.”
She gasped, yanking herself to a halt and putting a hoof to her chest. “Why I never! Where in Equestria did you ever get such a mouth?”
“Auntie Rainbow taught me well.”
“Hmm.” There came those twisted lips and gentle frown again. “Perhaps we’ll have to discuss with her later on the importance of limiting violent language.”
“Enough talk!” Crystal flourished her sword once more, and changed her stance so that the tip was pointed forwards, and it appeared as though she were ready to pounce. “What’s this weakness you speak of?”
And then Mummy’s smirk returned, her cocking an eyebrow as her eyes themselves narrowed, all the while leaning in so that she and Crystal were almost nose to nose. “Do you really want to know, dear?”
“With every fibre of my being.” Most of the time, she didn’t really understand everything she said, but it sure felt good saying it, quoting lines and sounding defiant. This must have been what it was like to face off against Tirek, except if he were beautiful, and not completely evil. “Speak, so I may listen.”
“Such a serious child, aren’t you?”
Was there any other way?
“But alright, if that’s what you want.”
Crystal lowered her sword, as a sign of goodwill, and sat on her haunches again.
Mummy did the same, though she didn’t have a sword — only her wits, which Crystal knew were sharper than any blade, even Daddy’s own teeth and claws. “It’s really quite simple, really,” she calmly began, as if this were a casual conversation about the weather. “I sense in you… a hunger you can never satisfy. A deep, dark pit you fill with food and sweets, and you like that what you take, you shouldn’t have.”
She wasn’t wrong. Not like Daddy. “How do you know this?”
“Because, darling, I’m the same, in a way.”
She cocked her head again.
Mummy smiled, looking up in thought for a moment before nodding to her. “Well, first there was you…” she said, then paused as she looked down and watched her own hoof travel up and come to rest on her belly. “And now it’s your little brother.”
Crystal frowned, confused. She never totally understood why Mummy kept saying there was another pony inside her, or even how he was supposed to have gotten there without eating him bit by bit, and nopony ate meat in this house, much less other ponies. But if she said it was so, then it was so. “What about him?”
“Well, before I had you, I kept getting… urges. Cravings. Wanting something so desperately, even if it isn't healthy for you, that you’d do nearly anything to get it. Even steal.”
“Which wasn’t very generous of you, let’s make that absolutely clear.”
“Yes, Spike, I think we established that,” Mummy groaned, rolling her eyes, then peered over her shoulder to him. “But I also think that even an Element Bearer such as myself is allowed a little leeway when I’m stuck gestating a dragon’s offspring.”
Daddy merely chuckled..
Crystal blinked, no less confused.
“Anyway,” Mummy continued, returning to her, now with a soft, if somewhat flustered smile, “the point is, dear, I know what it’s like to be a… ravenous beast sometimes.”
“Especially in the mornings.”
“Spike, shut up!”
Daddy could only laugh.
After a long pause, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue, she lowered her gaze from the ceiling in a deep, heaving sigh. And then she tried to recompose herself as best she could, and largely succeeded. “So, yes, though I might not be as… singular as you, Crystal, I at least know how hard it can be to heed your better nature’s calling. As a matter of fact, that’s something you can definitely talk to Rainbow about — she has many, many stories about how her pride got the better of her, or how she wasn’t as loyal as she needed to be.”
“Does she?”
“She does.” Mummy nodded. “That’s not to say she hasn’t grown since then, and you’ve certainly got a lot of growing to do yourself, but… that doesn’t mean we can’t learn from past mistakes. And eating my cookies is a perfectly good opportunity to learn.”
“Learn what?”
“Why, to bake lamingtons, of course!”
Crystal gasped, beaming a grin as bright as the sun, jumping to her feet a prancing in place. “No way! Really?”
“Indeed, my dear.” Mummy giggled, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Always good to try new things. And besides, I think I had a craving for them anyway.”
“I want to do the coconut bits!”
“And you shall, if you promise not to eat them all first.”
Crystal stood still and nodded vigorously. “Oh, I will, I will.”
“Wonderful!” Mummy exclaimed, then tapped the same hoof against her chin in thought, peering out of the corner of her eye. “Now, what to do for transportation…?”
Crystal cocked her head again and quirked an eyebrow. “Transportation?”
“Well, yes.” Mummy switched back to her and turned her nose up with another sly smirk. “You’re a warrior princess, are you not? It simply wouldn’t do if you went to battle without a proper mount. And I’m thinking… what better steed to ride into action than your very own dragon?”
Crystal gasped a second time, sharing her open-mouthed smile with Daddy.
His eyes lit up, and, without needing to be asked, he glanced at his back meaningfully. “What say you, princess?”
She slowly, dreamily plodded over to him. “They’ll tremble before us.”
Daddy chuckled again, looking to Mummy. “You’re right, Rarity, we should be careful. By my reckoning, she’d even be a match for Lord Ember.”
“Or worse,” Mummy countered, “Celestia herself.”
“And wouldn’t that be a sight?” He watched as Crystal scrambled up his shoulder for his withers, just in front of his wings, one of which he used to give her a little push. “Crystal Clarity, Empress of the World, Scourge of a Thousand Cookie Jars, Terror of Peacocks Everywhere.”
“I’ll rule fairly and justly,” she avowed, struggling to centre her weight and balance her sword at the same time. “And everything will be good, and all shall love me.”
“Oh, but we already do,” Mummy said, trotting over and hopping up with far more ease and grace. Clarity thought that maybe she’d done this before. And when she was settled down, sitting behind her and holding her in place, she bowed down and gave her a kiss, and peered into her eyes from above, seemingly upside down. “Such a lovely girl, you are. Even if you do take after your father a bit too much.”
“Hey,” Daddy groused, but not in a way that said he was actually offended, “I resent that statement. She has your looks, doesn’t she?”
“A bee cares little for a flower’s appearance, but more so for the nectar inside,” Mummy coolly replied. “And in that regard, Spike, she has you in spades.”
“Hmm.” He looked looked over his shoulder to her. “Not sure about that metaphor. You wouldn’t mind if I brought it up with Fluttershy, would you?”
“Regardless of its validity, the point still stands. Besides, if it weren’t true, then maybe I’d never have found you to be a worthy suitor.”
“Oh-ho, is that so?” He smirked wickedly. “My rugged good looks had nothing to do with it?”
“Well… I could’ve settled for worse.”
Daddy opened his mouth to speak again.
“Strength in unity!” Crystal declared, brandishing the sword again. “We march to war!”
There was silence.
And then Mummy shrugged. “Who are we to refuse the orders of a princess?”
“So be it,” Daddy agreed, then stood up, and it seemed like the whole world moved with him as he strolled around the railway network for open door. “Once more into the fray.”
“To the kitchen!” Crystal proclaimed fearlessly. “To rid the world of the lamington menace!”
“Onward, Spike!” Mummy commanded, holding her close and giving Daddy a light slap on the rump. “To glory, and victory!”
And there was a great roar that day, and a rumble through the halls as a dragon charged down the staircase and all around the boutique, two ferocious heroines on his back, screaming as they fended off mannequins wrapped in garish threads. And the battle in the kitchen was long and hard, and the collateral damage severe, but they came out on top in the end, and the spoils of war were shared and enjoyed by all.
Peace reigned in her kingdom once again. And all was right in the world.
Author's Note
Originally written for the Quills and Sofas Speedwriting discord server's PANIC! FICTION! contest with the prompt "a fucking cardboard box", which this won. Decided to turn it into a full-blown fluff piece for everyone's enjoyment.
So, if this is your cup of tea, I hope you enjoy.
