“Oh!” A dainty white finger pointed to one particular spot in the rock wall, a surface that caught the light with just a little more of a gleam. “What about that one?”
She backed away so that her companion could lean in and make her own inspection. On any other appraiser of precious stones, that neutral, impassive expression might have been a rather ill omen, but with Maud Pie it could mean any number of things. After a brief pause spent in silence, the grey pony took out a hammer and a chisel, and with a few expert strikes the chunk of rock was loosed from its confines. She then picked up the rock and held the gem up to the light. “Phosphate,” she muttered flatly, eyes glittering faintly as they pored over the rough surface, “magnesium, aluminum…definitely lazulite.”
“Oh, yes, that will do excellently!” Rarity exclaimed with far more giddiness—more affect in general, really—in her tone. She took the stone, offered without any resistance, and placed it in a pack, clunking and rattling against the other specimens which were already stored within. She hefted the pack over her shoulders again, stifling an unladylike grunt as she worked with the strain of the weight. Often she would delegate such tasks to whatever assistants were with her on one of these treks, but on this occasion she was not the expert, nor the one doing the most rigorous of the work, so she could take it upon herself to carry the load for now.
Not that she had much choice since their other partner didn’t seem especially interested in sharing the burden at the moment.
“I really must thank you for letting me come along on this trip of yours, Maud,” she then said, beaming, “it’s not often I get a chance I get a chance to go excavating with somepony who has the same appreciation for gemstones that I do.”
“I do appreciate stones,” Maud Pie replied plainly. It was probably a joke, but any hint of sarcasm was so subtle as to be nearly indiscernible. A dry, veiled edge. She didn’t need to be witty when she could stare straight at the unicorn so that the light from her helmet shone directly upon her face. Rarity took the hint and turned away without trying to insinuate anything else.
“I suppose someday I’ll have to see about making a dress with rock decorations for you,” she chortled instead as her gaze cast around the caverns surrounding them. It was dark, the only illumination provided by the beams from the helmets they wore and a few floodlights that had been set up in the area they were working in. The walls glittered and twinkled at irregular intervals where the light cast upon minerals that were of a more precious nature than the surrounding rock, the kind which Rarity only put up with as a necessary evil. She didn’t care about that rougher, dirtier stuff, but for a friend she wouldn’t mind taking up a challenge. “I suppose granite or shale…perhaps I could find marble in a color that would suit your mane.”
“Pumice,” the earth pony interjected brusquely, almost as soon as she had finished talking. “It’s lighter. Might be easier for you to work with.”
“Hmm…” Rarity tapped the tip of her muzzle. “That’s volcanic rock, yes?”
“Igneous,” Maud Pie rattled off automatically, “light, coarse, denoted by its porous appearance, formed by bubbles of gas escaping lava while it—”
“Ooh, then I’d be able to take a vacation to some islands and write it off as a business expense!” The unicorn embraced her with a gentle, affectionate nuzzle, arms wrapped around the sturdy grey form. “Oh, what a brilliant idea, Maud, you’re a genius!”
The other mare only responded by slowly reaching with a single hand to pat against Rarity’s back. One might have noticed only the faintest hint of a rosy tint upon her cheeks.
Rocks clattered and rolled across the floor.
Rarity returned to attention with a jolt, sharply ending the hug and standing back. Maud Pie turned her gaze in the direction of the noise. The third member of their expedition had proven to be exceedingly good at masking the sound of her hoofsteps and had taken them by surprise a few times before this. It had long since started to get on Rarity’s nerves, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. She couldn’t very well tell off the mare who was responsible for funding this excursion, who had only allowed her to come along out of her own generosity.
Gossamer Gleam had seemed like she would be a typical specimen of Canterlot nobility when they first convened. There was an undeniable air of affluence about her, from her mane to her clothes to her posture to her gaze, peering down along the bridge of her muzzle. Rarity was accustomed to dealing with the snooty and the high-class—she herself fit that description more than a little, after all—and didn’t especially enjoy it but she understood that, much like the rocks and the grime, it was necessary to put on a cordial display for them. No matter where one found themselves in Equestria, bits went a long way, and it was always better to be on the right side of them. She had been hopeful that they might at least be able to find some common ground, establish enough of a relationship that this might result in her having a new client to look forward to.
But what had become quickly apparent was that the lavender unicorn was quiet more than anything. Not quiet in that shy, reclusive way that Rarity knew of a few acquaintances of hers—her friend Fluttershy, her business partner Coco Pommel, fellow Pie sister Marble. Quiet more in the way that Maud Pie was. Brief, terse, punctual. Only saying what was absolutely necessary. They had only spoken in approximate terms about the nature of the expedition, with no opportunity given to discuss anything else. While not quite as flat or monotone as the earth pony, it was similarly difficult to tease any emotion out of her. Even now as she stared at them from where she stood, there was no piercing the haughty gaze of her eyes.
She only said, “I found the entrance.”
Maud Pie didn’t wait long to walk toward the mare, making only one final glance over her shoulder toward Rarity. Rarity, for her part, sighed and followed, her form tensing just a little more. She took in their surroundings before they could depart—this was the part of the caverns under Canterlot that she was most familiar with. They would soon be broaching spaces that she hadn’t even known existed.
These mines had once flourished in the days when the great capital was first being constructed. It was fortunate that the opulence of Canterlot could be founded upon a vast store of valuable gemstones and minerals which still remained replete with resources long after the immediate demand had waned. Nowadays, most were too concerned with keeping their hooves clean to bother coming back down here. The old equipment and fixtures that had once been used to assist with the excavations had now worn away to nothing, leaving passages which were as close to natural as they could have been. Rarity knew better than to attempt to venture into the condemned sections, no matter how tempting their glittering prizes might have been, even with the help of somepony like Maud Pie by her side. She’d dearly hoped that Gossamer Gleam knew better as well.
The other unicorn at the lead of the group cast a light ahead of them not with a lamp but the brilliant violet light that came from her horn. Against their guide’s better judgment, Gossamer Gleam had opted not to wear a helmet, or much protective gear at all for that matter. If anything, the dress that she wore currently was more along the lines of what Rarity wished she could be wearing, but even a pony as frivolous as her knew that the importance of function had to trump form on occasion. The bulky coveralls she wore weren’t much different from those of Maud Pie, only just a tad more flashy and colorful with purple accents instead of being a drab and garish uniform orange. Gossamer Gleam, on the other hand, looked like she was taking a simple stroll through the city streets, wearing a long skirt and frilly blouse, the only personal gear that she carried being within a small pack slung over one shoulder.
“Are you certain that we aren’t going to require any more equipment?” the earth pony asked. There was no doubt in her tone. There was a faint implication of admonishment to be heard. She had no desire to go into this unprepared and would not take kindly to being misled.
“I can assure you that we will be most adequately capable of all that awaits us,” Gossamer Gleam replied without turning around, “with your skills we should have nothing to worry about.”
Maud Pie hummed noncommittally to herself. Flattery didn’t especially mean much to her.
Rarity listened with her brow furrowed.
They rounded a corner and it immediately became apparent that there was something out of place. There was an eerie vibrant green glow seeping into the cool cavern air just ahead of them, clashing with the white lamp light and the violet glow of magic, emerging from a great gash in the rock. Maud Pie stopped in place, and if Rarity didn’t know any better, she’d think that she saw her tense up, fur bristling, just slightly. Gossamer Gleam continued unabated until she was standing directly in front of the opening, and when she turned back to look at them the light cast stark shadows across her face. “Coming?” she asked pointedly before then walking forward without waiting.
After an uncertain pause spent looking from the opening to the grey mare beside her, Rarity started to follow.
A tight grip latched onto her hand and held her in place.
“M-Maud, what—?!”
But when she looked back, she was shocked into silence. The mare had not just a subtle change on her face but a noticeable change, turned from neutral to distinctly severe, the angles of her eyes and the edges of her lips just a touch sharper in their definition. It was a chilling gaze, imparting upon the unicorn that there was almost certainly something foul at play here. She finally opened her mouth, and all she said was, “Be careful.”
The grip upon her relaxed, and Maud Pie gently interlocked her fingers with Rarity’s. That touch eased her nerves after the sudden concern she had been put through. Maud Pie then walked forward, leading the way for them to move together.
The opening in the rock started in the floor before carving up into the wall, revealing a tunnel that continued downward at an angle. It was tall enough that they didn’t have to duck down and wide enough that the three ponies could have feasibly, if not necessarily comfortably, walked side by side by side. That is, were it not for the floor, which consisted of two angled planes that met together at the center. This necessitated an uncomfortable position of balancing with one hoof on each opposing slope. Rarity felt gravity pulling her down, threatening to bring her sliding down the tunnel if her hoofing slipped. She was glad to have Maud Pie standing in front of her, easily able to catch her if it was necessary. The passage ahead of them was flooded with that green light; Gossamer Gleam could only be identified by a silhouette that was already a couple dozen paces ahead of them.
This continued for some time. Rarity desperately wanted some form of conversation to break up her thoughts. She wanted to ask what had Maud Pie worried. She wanted to try to pry more information out of Gossamer Gleam. But she couldn’t bring herself to divert her concentration from the task that was currently taking up all her mental faculties. The slightest distraction could mean slipping and falling.
Was this worth the gems?
Rarity was glad again to be at the back of the group when it allowed her to see that the ponies in front of her had stopped moving at the same angle of descent. At long last, the path ahead had finally evened out and she could breathe a heavy sigh of relief. She nearly collapsed when she came to stand behind Maud Pie; she had never thought that she’d be so glad simply to be standing on a level surface.
It was difficult to be entirely relaxed, though, when there was still that intense green light all around them. It was as if the very air had been suffused with glow-in-the-dark paint. She felt it searing into her retinas even when she closed her eyes. It was impossible to identify what the source was, exactly; she could only briefly discern patches which were brighter than others, forming irregular shapes within the viridian brilliance, and the throbbing of her eyes would then quickly urge her to look away.
“This way,” Gossamer Gleam’s voice called out. Without that and the following sound of hoofsteps to identify her position, Rarity scarcely would’ve been able to see her other than as a smudge of a shadow. Maud Pie, only a few paces away, looked back over at her. Her colors were almost completely washed out by the green illumination. Such a tacky, garish color. Rarity tacitly felt her appreciation for emeralds slipping as she started to walk.
Or maybe it was her stomach that was slipping. Though the brightness was steadily fading the further they walked away from the mouth of the tunnel, that was instead becoming replaced by yet another nuisance: a queasiness in her gut. Try though she might to ignore it, it gnawed at her focus in much the same way that the climb had. She was at a loss as to what could have caused it, unable to recall having eaten anything unusual before they left. She hadn’t anticipated such mental duress on this trip—physical, maybe, but not to have this steady grind upon her senses.
The path ahead of them was steadily coming into focus, green giving way to the dull greys of stone once more, when Rarity fell. Her legs gave way so suddenly that she hardly even felt it happening, and it was a miracle that she managed to catch herself before falling flat on her face. Her knees and one palm burned where they scuffed against the harsh surface. The other hand was busy clutching at her midsection. Her stomach felt like it was Rainbow Dash trying to break the world record for flying loop-de-loops in a row and it was all too eager to force itself out through her throat.
Hoofsteps alerted her to Maud Pie’s approach. Dull, barely contained gasps of pain as she knelt down prompted a worse realization. The earth pony’s neutral expression was tinged by a faint weariness around the edges, the distinct sensation of discomfort. She was feeling the same thing, even if she was better at hiding it.
“We need to go back,” she said, flat and yet deathly urgent.
“No.” Gossamer Gleam cut through the silence without hesitation. The lavender unicorn stood nearby, watching, her expression even more unreadable than the grey mare’s usually was. She stood tall, showing no signs of strain or distress. “We keep going.”
Maud Pie turned back toward her—the motion of twisting her neck was uncharacteristically sharp, short purple mane whirling about, even though her face remained much the same. There was a hardness in her gaze that Rarity could see even without it being directed upon her, enough that she was thankful to be spared of its intensity. “This is not an ordinary cavern structure, and these are not ordinary stones,” she stated, laying out everything step by step. “I will not risk the health of anypony in my charge.”
“There is no risk here,” Gossamer Gleam replied plainly. She showed no signs of intimidation as she began to come back toward the other mares. With two affectless ponies debating, it was difficult to tell when either side was showing duress from the pressure being posed upon them. She only looked away so she could open the pack at her side and sift through its contents. “I apologize, though, for the unexpected ache. It is not something I pay much heed to anymore. I am not accustomed to taking these sojourns with others, and it did not occur to me that you might need protection of that manner.” Once she was close enough, she leaned over and offered something in her outstretched hand: two thin pinkish objects that seemed akin to medicinal gel capsules. “These will dull the pain until your system adjusts.”
Maud Pie continued to give her unsettling stare for several seconds longer before she took one of the pills. She looked ready to take both of them, to offer the other in turn to Rarity, before she managed to lift her hand and do it herself. Her vision was swimming and her stomach felt about ready to forcibly uproot itself. She didn’t remember feeling so full just a few minutes ago; she hadn’t eaten anything unpleasant, and she certainly hadn’t eaten more than her strict diet called for. She wasn’t certain that she’d manage to swallow when she opened her mouth and put the bittersweet pill on her tongue, but manage it she did. It hardly took more than a few seconds for the effects to become apparent: the discomfort did not leave, but it suddenly felt distant, numbed. She still didn’t feel right, but at least it was enough that she could rise and stand on her own hooves again, Maud Pie by her side.
“Tha—…th-thank you,” Rarity muttered docilely, as her manners bid her to do, though it was ambiguous which pony she was addressing.
Maud Pie said nothing. Her stern glare remained until she diverted her focus to the white unicorn, offering her a gentle caress along her back.
Nor did Gossamer Gleam offer anything else to say, only turning about and continuing the way she had been walking before. Maud Pie helped Rarity forward for several steps before she was steady enough that she could reasonably walk on her own. The pain may have been dissipating, but the fullness in her gut remained. Or…maybe it wasn’t her stomach. Now that she had the capacity to focus on it, she wasn’t sure that it was quite that same feeling. It wasn’t the feeling that came with being stuffed after a large meal—not that she could be so sure with how rarely she ate so much.
It seemed…lower.
The searing green glow was finally left behind, allowing them to have a proper view of their surroundings. As it turned out, however, there wasn’t much to see. The walls of the passage they had been walking through opened up to either side and the floor continued for a few dozen paces before abruptly terminating. Beyond that, there was only darkness. A vast, sprawling emptiness, a pitch-black abyss. The cavern was so broad that the light from their lanterns couldn’t even reach to the other end, the walls extending into the smothering shadows before being lost entirely. The scuffing clops of the ponies’ hoofsteps echoed into the void and bounced back, a delayed repetition.
“This…all of this is under Canterlot?” Rarity asked breathlessly, the light from her helmet twisting about as she looked from one direction to the next.
“There are some who say that the first ponies emerged from within Mount Canter,” Gossamer Gleam said while she stood worryingly close to the edge of the pit, looking down at the rock surface. “They worshipped the mountain as their mother. They believed that it had blessed them with life.”
Maud Pie offered a thoughtful but dubious hum.
Rarity wasn’t sure how that answered her question in the slightest but didn’t feel like pressing the issue any further.
Gossamer Gleam then turned and strode along the edge, and she started to descend. There was a slope in the rock face that continued down toward the wall before turning around and continuing to wind downward, with further stretches that could be seen below, just barely discernible through the gloom. Rarity gulped nervously as she started on the path as well, having to pull her attention away to keep from looking over the side. The stone was curved slightly, bowing inward, keeping her gravitating toward the middle, which suited her well enough—anything to stay away from the edge. Instead she turned her gaze toward the wall, and it didn’t take long to see how much of a distinct lack of twinkling and sparkling there was. No gemstones to be found down here, nothing but rocks. The bag on her shoulders seemed all the heavier.
But she came to a stop, letting the purplish glow from Gossamer Gleam’s horn grow farther away, as she realized that she was no longer at the rear of the party. She turned back and saw Maud Pie further up the slope. She was also examining the wall, placing her hand against the rock and slowly dragging her fingers across, feeling the grain and the striations.
“Maud, dear, is something wrong?” she asked warily, while doing her best not to let her voice carry. She didn’t much appreciate the echoing around them.
The earth pony turned toward her, betraying her own muted sense of uncertainty. “These formations aren’t natural,” she murmured, “somepony—or something—made this.”
Rarity could only stare back at her, uncertain of what the implications of such a statement might be. All she knew was that she didn’t appreciate the notion that there was some form of intelligence at work down here in the dark depths.
“Let’s keep going,” Maud Pie then said, interrupting her thoughts. “The sooner that mare gets whatever she wants down here, the sooner we can turn back. Watch your step.”
Rarity might have remained frozen there if it weren’t for the other pony approaching, prompting her to continue. The path wasn’t very wide, which would have made it harrowing for one of them to have to push past the other, so Maud Pie would have to settle for taking up the rear for now. It seemed as if Gossamer Gleam had stopped for them on the next tier down, but she didn’t wait much longer, resuming even before they had properly caught up. Rarity found herself wondering what the intended purpose of this expedition had been all along. She hadn’t paid it much mind before, having been content with the knowledge that she would be getting some new gems for her stock. All she could recall being said was the wealthy unicorn wanting to explore a remote part of the mines. If their guide wasn’t entirely aware of what the purpose was either, it must be something kept under wraps.
She continued to have a strong aversion to the notion of looking over the side of the path, even when a corner was approaching and the next tier down was far less distant. It became harder to ignore, though, when the shuffling of their hoofsteps produced the unsettling feeling that there was somepony in the cavern with them, following or waiting to meet them. Every time, her head whipped about in the perceived direction of the noise, but when her headlamp chased away the shadows there was nothing to be seen. She could feel herself hyperventilating, staggering, and then Maud Pie would come up behind her and place a steady hand upon her shoulder, and everything came back into focus for the time being. Gossamer Gleam never offered any such reassurance, nor did she appear to demonstrate any duress of her own.
Rarity felt the ache upon her back and shoulders more and more with every stretch of the winding path they went down. She hadn’t been adding any more gems to her pack, yet it seemed as if it was heavier than ever. The tired teetering that this added to her gait didn’t help her need to maintain her balance in the slightest. Every few minutes she had to stop to catch her breath and place one hand against the wall beside her. The air was cold against her face, yet she felt sweat trickling over her brow.
And her stomach…that numbed tumult of pressure persisted. She felt so sluggish and languid, burdened by the weight tugging upon her. No doubt it was doing terrible damage to her posture to have her threatening to hunch forward with every step she took. She clutched at her midsection, pressing firmly through the layer of cotton, and she tried to calm herself by stroking in slow circles.
Then something happened. It seemed utterly absurd, something she couldn’t possibly have believed. Yet it was the only explanation for what she had felt.
It was as if her stomach had pushed back against her touch.
It was as if something was inside her.
“Wh…ah…” The unicorn sputtered fragments of syllables as she stumbled, this time with her legs nearly falling out from under her again, but it wasn’t physical pain that had afflicted her this time.
“Rarity, what’s wrong?” Maud Pie asked as she came up behind her. Her own breathing was subtly labored.
But Rarity could scarcely process the other mare’s presence. She had both her hands pressed to her abdomen now, pushing in and drawing the surface of her coveralls tight. It was difficult to tell through the bulky covering, but there was no denying that she could feel more of a taut curve to the surface where it should have been slim and trim. A jumble of noise roiled through her brain, but the most vocalization she could manage was to gasp again and again, jaws gaping open, as she stared down at herself, the swell distinctly visible over the shelf of her bosom. Maud Pie stood by, watching, and slowly, slightly, her eyelids raised. Her hands reached to her own middle.
Rarity’s hands shook as she tugged on the zipper that ran down her front, yanking it down bit by bit as it seemed intent to jam repeatedly at this most crucial of moments. She freed her torso, cool air washing over skin that had been so swelteringly hot moments ago, and finally she pulled up the hem of the shirt underneath.
A rounded dome of a gut bulged outward from her abdomen, just enough that it obscured her groin. It was disastrous enough to see that her well-groomed physique had spontaneously been obliterated, but Rarity was able to identify that this wasn’t fat. The surface was too smooth and taut. She could discern that her navel was filling and pushing outward. This was a very distinct appearance, and the implications that it carried were far more drastic.
“Maud…I’m…I’m pregnant?!” she asked incredulously.
But it was only then that she turned her attention to the earth pony, who had similarly unzipped her protective outer layer and lifted up her tank top, revealing that her own midsection had rounded into a swell of grey flesh. Their gazes met, and it was in that moment that Maud Pie’s stony façade crumbled, giving way to a distinct look of alarm.
There was only one set of hoofsteps moving through the cavern now that the two of them had stopped, and that noise came to a rest along with a purple glow washing over them. Gossamer Gleam had come back to stand by them, her countenance remaining just as impassive as ever. “So, you finally noticed, did you?” she asked with dull surprise.
“What…what did you do to us?!” Rarity cried at her. In truth, she was on the verge of collapsing under a weight that was both physical and emotional, but having a target to direct her frustration and dismay upon alleviated that crushing force, however slightly.
“I did not do anything,” the other unicorn said dryly, unfazed by the accusation or the tension that was evidently building in the air. “This is a natural effect of this location. There is nothing to—”
Maud Pie strode forward and without a word seized Gossamer Gleam by the collar of her dress, effortlessly lifting her from her hooves. Her hands grasped at the arm holding her, but the sturdy limb didn’t budge or flinch in the slightest. “What have you not been telling us?” she said in a growl that was like stones grinding together. “You’ve put us in far too much jeopardy already. I won’t allow you to senselessly drag us through any more risks.” Rarity watched, aghast, as Maud Pie then turned to the side, holding her captive over the abyss by the side of the path.
Gossamer Gleam gritted her teeth, but otherwise showed no overt signs of being cowed by this display. “You would…bring harm to innocent lives?” she asked sharply.
Maud Pie said nothing, but gave pause, nonetheless.
Then the unicorn pulled on the sides of her dress, and the front parted, revealing her own distended midsection. Unlike the other two, however, her skin was notably marked with a series of lines that formed complex arcane circles and symbols, glowing faintly with a violet light. The designs mystified Rarity—she wasn’t as adept with magic as other unicorns, but these were of a distinctly unusual arrangement that looked unlike any other magical inscriptions she’d seen.
The earth pony’s expression hardened—and it had been hard enough to begin with—but still she relented. That didn’t mean that she had to be gentle about letting Gossamer Gleam back to the ground, putting her down roughly, and she staggered momentarily before she regained her balance. She still showed no distress about any of this, only fiddling with her dress to close it again and to smooth out the wrinkles left from where she had been held.
“How is…how is this happening to us?” Rarity asked lamentably. With the adrenaline that came from the discovery fading away, that left her with only the anxiety. She held both hands against her stomach—intermittently, she felt faint movements underneath the surface of her skin. It would be so easy to zip up her clothes again and forget about it, but that would not remove the tension that came with it, or the curious sensations that came from her overtaxed body. Trying to deny this wouldn’t do anything to address the problem.
“This is an ancient place,” Gossamer Gleam said plainly while her breathing normalized. “Primal forces are at play here. The raw shadowstuff from which life is formed is all around us.” She turned and outstretched one hand to drag across the rock wall of the winding cliff. At the same time, her fingers flickered with magical energy. When she pulled away, there was something she held suspended over her palm: wispy strands of dark that coiled languidly in the air before dissipating. “It is that which now resides within us, basking in our warmth.”
“It’s…that’s…inside us?!” Rarity exclaimed, cringing and trembling. The light from her lamp swung about erratically as she looked around them, eying every surface, every square inch of space, with suspicion.
“It is quite harmless,” the lavender pony quickly interjected, “it only seeks to become something more that it would not have the opportunity for otherwise. There are so few creatures that come down here these days.”
“Are you saying that that story about Mount Canter is true?” Maud Pie asked quizzically, arms crossed over her chest.
“I think that something once came from here, a long time ago,” she replied, “whether or not it was truly a pony as we know them today, I cannot say.”
“Then what did you want to come here for?” The earth pony spoke slightly sterner, eyes narrowing.
“I am here for…a request.” It seemed that she might have stopped there, but another glare prompted her to continue with a low, exasperated sigh. “There is something waiting at the bottom of this cavern. Something very old. It is my…business, you might say, to assist creatures such as it.”
Maud Pie stared for some time longer, likely skeptical, before she then asked, “And why did you need us for this?”
Gossamer Gleam didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze shifted to Rarity, seeming evaluatory. Rarity couldn’t be certain whether she preferred that over the emotionless, piercing stare. “I can usually handle these matters myself. Under these circumstances, however, I was not certain whether or not I would be able to make the return on my own. You two are my insurance that I will be able to see the surface again.” She seemed finished only to then add, “You should have nothing else to worry about that would bring harm to you. I promise.”
There was a grumbling hum of thought deep in Maud Pie’s throat. “And you didn’t think it prudent to warn us that we’d be getting spontaneously impregnated?”
“Would you have believed me if I told you?” she asked in turn, one eyebrow raised.
“I would’ve believed that you were probably crazy,” she said flatly.
“But…I can’t be pregnant!” Rarity cried desperately out of the blue. She felt herself sweating despite being exposed to the cold. She couldn’t be sure, but she could swear that the pressure within her had intensified ever so slightly in the time since this conversation began, and her midsection pushed out in front of her just a little more. “I…I’ve never even slept with another pony before!”
“There are some who say that Celestia and Luna were the product of a virgin birth,” Gossamer Gleam murmured contemplatively, “perhaps you have some royalty-to-be within your womb.”
“I don’t want to have anything in…in my womb!” The very words made her tongue threaten to twist on itself in defiance. “I was supposed to be pure! I can’t…I can’t…!”
“Oh, poor filly.” The other unicorn looked at her with the corners of her muzzle turned into the barest hint of a smirk. “You have no idea what you are missing out on.”
“Excuse me?!” She mustered her indignation in spite of the furious blush that she felt overtaking her cheeks. “I’ll have you know that I have standards! I’m saving myself for marriage!” She turned to address toward the third pony of the group. “Maud, surely a proper lady such as you understands such importance!”
But Maud Pie was silent, and slowly she looked away as her own cheeks betrayed a faint reddish tint.
“Ma…M-Maud?!” Disbelief, gasping as she clasped a hand over her mouth.
“In any event, it is of no concern for the moment,” Gossamer Gleam interrupted. “When we return to the surface, I have services that will assist you with the…side effects.”
“I certainly hope so,” Maud Pie muttered.
Rarity couldn’t bring herself to say anything, only fuming to herself.
“For now, it is in our best interest to get to the bottom and leave as quickly as possible.” She started to turn around and continue along the downward slope. “The longer we dilly-dally, the harder the ascent will be.”
With the object of her frustrations retreating, Rarity was again left with nothing to focus upon. She slumped against the rock, and again she looked at her stomach, hand caressing the taut surface. Pregnant…she couldn’t believe it. What was this going to mean for her? Surely this wasn’t the kind of thing that could just be swept under the rug. Everypony was going to know her as the mare who got knocked up by…some shadow things in a mountain cave. It was so ridiculous, she wanted nothing more than to believe it couldn’t be true.
A touch alighted upon her shoulder. Maud Pie stood beside her, those cool teal eyes gazing into hers. She said nothing, but even with her neutral expression her face said so much more than words could have. It was subtle, but Rarity had enough familiarity to understand the differences.
The two took the moment to embrace each other, and as they pressed their foreheads and muzzles together so too did their distended, exposed midriffs, sharing in their warmth.
= = = = =
The winding cliffside path continued on and on, deeper and deeper. The twisting loops progressively became longer, until eventually it was impossible to see the opposite end after rounding a corner, their narrow beams of light swallowed up by the gloom. Despite being on a constant downward trail, it almost felt more like they were descending, the air becoming harder to breathe. No, Rarity had realized after Maud Pie posited the idea to her. It wasn’t that the air was becoming thinner—it was almost heavier. It felt like something dense resting within her lungs, and each gulping breath was like swallowing a kind of gaseous soup.
More weight certainly was the last thing she needed. Maud Pie had shouldered the burden of taking her pack from her, being more than capable of carrying all their supplies and gathered gems as well as her own burgeoning frame, but, even with that lifted from her, Rarity’s struggle was hardly much lesser. Her gut—a thing which she was dismayed to realize she now had no matter how many times it occurred to her—pulled heavily on her, as if eager to bring her harshly to the ground. Worse still, its girth had steadily increased as time went on; where to begin with she had merely looked like an early expectant mother, now she more resembled a mare well into her third trimester. The full, rounded globe pushed far beyond her abdomen and hung over her waist, completely obscuring any view of what lay underneath. They had attempted to cover back up before, but it had eventually become apparent that their wardrobes simply weren’t up to the task, forcing them to go with their suits unzipped. At intermittent intervals, Rarity groaned and crooned incoherently as she tenderly touched the pale sphere, eliciting a tingle that ran through her taut skin.
It was made all the worse when that tension began to spread to her breasts as well. It was subtle at first, but she noticed the sensitivity in her chest long before the swelling actually began. The panic at this realization had been lesser and quickly quelled by assurance from Gossamer Gleam—it was only natural that pregnancy stimulated the hormones in the body that regulated production of milk. The indecency was bad enough, she wasn’t looking forward to the idea of having to deal with her body leaking.
Gossamer Gleam herself no longer maintained such a massive lead upon them. Every now and then she seemed to take the time to glance back toward the other mares, to make sure they were still there. Like Maud Pie, she carried herself without much difficulty. Her dress seemed to have been designed with this scenario in mind, the cloth stretching and parting so as to allow room for her enlarged middle. At one point, Rarity dimly wondered how such a garment must have been engineered, immediately followed by the thought that she was likely going to have to start investigating maternity wear after all this was over, and she gave a prolonged internal groan.
“Which direction do you think this was made in?” Maud Pie asked suddenly at one point.
“Wh…what?” Rarity asked in turn. She was silently thankful for having the words to focus upon, to have something to draw her attention to. She had been on the verge of being lost in the ache of her hooves.
The earth pony was tracing her hand along the wall beside them as they walked, along the subtle grain in the stone. “Where did it start? The top or the bottom?”
“And what would it imply for that to be the case?” Gossamer Gleam added to the conversation.
Rarity blearily pondered this to herself.
If the excavation had started at the top, then that would mean somepony from the surface had done it. They would have wanted to get down here, for whatever the reason had been. Could it have been because they were after the same thing Gossamer Gleam was?
But if it had started at the bottom, it would have been made by something lurking in the darkness under the mountain. Something trying to get out.
Neither outcome was especially ideal, but the latter seemed far more nefarious.
And it made her yet more anxious about the prospect of what must be awaiting them.
It wasn’t something that she would have very long to mull over. Soon after, a glance over the edge of the path yielded not just the pit but the distinct coloration of the ground below. Rarity wished to be thankful to not have to worry about the climb anymore, to not have to worry about slipping and plummeting to her doom, but she knew that any relief was to be short-lived, considering that their journey was only halfway over. The stomach hanging over her waist was already broad enough that she had difficulty holding it within the span of her arms. Its contents churned faintly; she hadn’t the slightest idea just how many foals—or whatever these “shadows” were—could be within her.
How much longer could this possibly go on? Was she at risk of going into labor, or was she just going to keep getting bigger? Could she become too full and…burst?
At long last, the slope evened out onto a broad, flat plane. The rock was smooth, deep slate grey. Slightly darker, the unicorn realized, than what they had seen at the top of the cliff; the stone had darkened as they made their descent, but it was a subtle and gradual change, such that she hadn’t been paying enough mind to notice. From where they stood, the cavern was still much too large to identify the full extent of it, fading away into the dark. There was only one noticeable landmark, a faint raised silhouette outlined by their lights, a few dozen paces away.
Maud Pie remained near the end of the ramp, kneeling (with a dull grunt as her middle shifted) and inspecting the rock. Gossamer Gleam moved on ahead, in the direction of that dark shape. Rarity looked back and forth for a few seconds, lips pursed, before choosing to hobble after the latter. The way her legs pushed against the apron-like overhang of her gut with every step seemed more pronounced now that she was walking on a level surface. She cupped her arms around it as much as she could in an effort to keep it stable.
Gossamer Gleam had come to a stop next to what was revealed to be a raised platform, its molding appearing markedly more deliberate than the rock floor and walls and even the path that had been carved into the cliff. Shallow steps led up to an octagonal dais which bore strange markings drawn upon its surface. Rarity thought they might have been similar to the arcane inscriptions on the other unicorn’s stomach, but something about the patterns struck her as distinctly unlike the forms of Equestria. Immediately beyond this stand, however, the floor gave away once more to another great pit. Much like how their view of the cavern had been at the top of the winding path, it was impossible to see the full extent of this hole, how broad it was or how deep it went. This time, however, there was no path that she could see descending into the depths, only a sheer drop lying beyond the edge. She came as close as she dared and looked down, but if she didn’t know any better it seemed as if this dark within the abyssal opening was even more intense than that which surrounded them. Not merely the absence of light—something physical and indescribable.
“Careful.” A hand was held in front of her chest, pushing back gently. Rarity turned to the side to see Gossamer Gleam’s impassive face. Her features were hardened, just slightly. Sterner. Then she looked forward again and she noticed that the edge of the ground was closer than it had been moments ago, and she stumbled backward with a gasp. She couldn’t even recall having moved her legs.
“What…what is…?” she stammered.
“Life calls to life,” the lavender mare responded enigmatically. “You might prefer to stand back. I will handle this and then we can leave.” She then walked away and climbed the steps up to the dais. She brushed at the purple locks of her mane and tail before tenderly lowering herself into a kneeling posture upon the stone, and the light from her horn dimmed, leaving her bathed in shadow.
Rarity watched with a morbid curiosity, remaining facing forward while she backed away. She wasn’t sure if she was watching Gossamer Gleam, to see what she might be about to do, or if it was still the hole “calling” to her. She didn’t come to an answer before she nearly bumped directly into Maud Pie and jumped.
“I took some samples,” she said plainly, holding in one hand her hammer and chisel and in another a few chunks of dark rock. Rarity could identify the sides that had been previously exposed to the open air by their rough texture. The interior surfaces, however, had a shiny sheen to them, like oil. There was something alluring about it that Rarity didn’t typically see in most rocks. “Almost like granite…but not quite,” she murmured thoughtfully, “I might be able to determine how old it is after some analysis.”
“Goodness…do you suppose this is something you could…study, in some way?” Rarity asked. She was tempted to ask if they could take a few more chunks beyond what Maud Pie needed and put them in with her gem collection.
“Mmm…” The earth pony’s expression didn’t change. “It might merit a greater expedition to study this cavern.” But then she looked down at herself, at the tiered slopes of her front, and her nostrils rankled faintly. “The discovery might not be worth the side effects, though.”
Rarity’s ears flattened as she turned her attention to both of their bodies. Maud Pie’s sturdy, toned physique and her own trim, curvaceous frame had both been swallowed up in the face of their newfound fecundity, gravid guts and bloated breasts. Their shirts rode up over their midsections and were starting to struggle with their chests. Rarity saw faint darkened spots in the cloth over the other mare’s nipples and had to imagine that the same was true for her. She could scarcely identify herself lactating, if that was the case—it felt little different from how the rest of her body was hot with an anxious sweat. She wanted nothing more than to hold herself, to ease the weight, but the tenderness of her skin meant that applying too much pressure risked spiking her senses with a pang of arousal. It felt good, and that was the worst part about it.
Just like that pit—she just couldn’t bring herself to ignore it.
“What’s she doing now?” Maud Pie then said, glancing in the direction of the pony on the dais.
Rarity looked at Gossamer Gleam as well, shining her lamp in that direction. She didn’t appear to have moved at all in the time since she’d last looked. “I haven’t the foggiest idea, dear, I just hope that whatever it is she’s—”
The ground shook. Rarity cried out and nearly tumbled over, but Maud Pie was quick to take hold of her and keep her steady. The muggy warmth of their bodies mingled again as she found herself coming to a rest face-first against the other mare’s chest. Her cheeks burned with a blush when she realized what was happening, but that also allowed her to notice when the beating of Maud Pie’s heart suddenly became significantly more forceful. That was alarm that couldn’t be obscured by the neutrality of her expressions. Rarity disentangled herself and turned about to look in the same direction, only to immediately wish that she hadn’t.
There was…something rising up from the depths of the pit. She couldn’t even begin to guess at what it was. A shape was all that she could identify—a towering, monolithic shape that billowed forth, its outline wavering like plumes of smoke as it expanded into the open air. She could scarcely even see that much, for the thing was black as pitch, an inky, inchoate mass of darkness. Much like the shadows inside the hole, it seemed of a sort that was distinctly deeper, more intense, than that which filled the rest of the cavernous chamber. All the same, that vagueness made it impossible to judge its exact size, seeming to stretch to occupy the entirety of its confines.
Rarity felt her legs give way beneath herself again, and this time Maud Pie staggered far more noticeably in her effort to hold her upright, having to fight hard enough to maintain her own posture.
All the while, Gossamer Gleam remained where she sat upon the plinth. She unfurled her arms out and to the sides, palms raised upward, as if in supplication. Then, from within the center of the dark mass, a single identifiable feature appeared. A thin pinprick emerged from the dark, and, like an iris opening, it expanded into a glowing circle. A yellowish light shone forth, focusing in upon the prone lavender mare, and the ground shook again, twice in rapid succession, as two huge shadowy pseudopods clamped onto the edge of the opening.
“O dark one, progenitor of the vital ichor of our world,” she proclaimed, her voice echoing across the vast enclosed walls of the cave. She spoke in the same neutral tone, but she put considerably more strength into her volume, making her sound marginally less monotone. “For too long you have laid within these vast halls, your gifts forgotten by the lands above. I have come bearing a vessel for you, so that once more your glory might be known to ponykind.”
Rarity felt a tug upon her arm, urging her to move. Despite Maud Pie’s strength being more than enough to force such a motion, however, and despite her own horror, she found herself unable to turn away.
The smoky shape kept its glowing spotlight of an eye trained upon Gossamer Gleam, scrutinizing her with an unfathomable intelligence. The mare herself remained in the same pose, unflinching. Rarity couldn’t see much of her face with the amethyst curtains of her mane in the way, but she thought that she discerned the faintest hint of a smile. Happy. Eager. Longing. If the terrible creature expressed anything in turn, it could not be identified.
But then the light shifted. It turned and tracked downward, away from the mare and the platform and across the ground. Gossamer Gleam reacted slowly, her gaze following, and the subtle enthusiasm on her face had promptly wilted. Rarity was sufficiently preoccupied with watching her that she didn’t notice when the light was abruptly beating down upon her instead. Without thinking, she shook her arm, and Maud Pie’s hand came free from her so that she could step forward.
Drawn toward the humming call of life.
There came one sound that she heard before it began.
“No,” called out Gossamer Gleam, the lone syllable rent by a crack in her voice. It was in that vocalization that Rarity discerned the most emotion that she would ever hear from the mare. A vivid cocktail of so many things all at once that had until now been suppressed—anger, fear, disappointment, sorrow, hurt. So much hurt.
Then the iris in the black opened wider, and Rarity was washed over in blinding light and her nerves ignited spectacularly.
Who built the path?
They came, unbidden, those things from the shadeless lands.
What did they want?
They coveted our flesh, to fill the hollows within themselves.
Why did you let them take it?
So that we might feel the embrace of her golden disc.
Poor creature. Give yourself to me.
The light was gone.
Rarity was sitting upon the earth. Her rump hurt—she must have fallen. Her stomach hurt. She felt full. Fuller. Fuller by the second.
“Ah…ahhh…!” she cried as she clutched at her midsection, and she had just enough cognition to be aware of how it pushed back against her. Not the squirming of its contents, rather the skin actively stretching further beyond its bounds. The expansion on the descent had been gradual enough that she hadn’t been able to notice it happening. Now she could feel herself pulsing ever further outward with every panicked, labored breath that she took. Her gut was engulfing her own lap, a vast white dome pushing out in front of her. The taut skin trembled at the slightest touch, languidly squirming with the motions of its contents, like an ocean held within her.
“What happened?”
“It…it chose her.”
There were voices speaking over her. Both were of a decidedly affectless nature, but both were struggling to remain level. She couldn’t identify which was which.
“You said that there wouldn’t be any danger.”
“There is no danger, but—”
“But what?”
“If you do not let me go, I cannot help her.”
Amidst it all, there was one sound that she was distinctly able to hear. It was the worst kind of sound to a pony in her profession. Threads snapping, seams popping, cloth tearing. The destruction of clothing. It would make her scream in terror if she weren’t already so overwhelmed.
There was a low, rumbling growl. Hooves scraped and scrambled imprecisely on stone. Moments later, something moved into Rarity’s field of vision. A mare’s face, lavender framed by purple. Her expression was inscrutable, but worry might have been at the forefront. “Rarity,” Gossamer Gleam murmured, one hand reaching to gently caress her cheek.
The white unicorn in turn was only able to respond with the same pained, pleasureful cries. Every time the pressure reached a peak, her vision seemed to blur.
“Nopony should be this pregnant.” Maud Pie’s voice came from somewhere nearby. “She’s going to rupture.”
“You would be surprised,” the other unicorn replied dryly. “The supplement I gave you is already enough to adjust your physical cohesion, but it will not help for the encumbrance at this size. Here, sit next to her. Comfort her.”
Gossamer Gleam retreated, and shortly afterward there appeared Maud Pie on the other side. Her face was set in a frown, but there was a faint shimmering in her eyes. Her touch came upon the white mare’s sensitive form, firmly caressing her shoulder, then along the spine, down between the shoulder blades and up toward the neck, offering both an assuaging of her discomfort and added support. A surge of comfort swept into Rarity’s aching body, not enough to completely counteract the pressure but enough to at least lessen the haze upon her senses.
“You seem familiar with this.”
“I saw my mother pregnant with the three sisters that came after me.”
“Hmm…you country ponies get busier than the stiffs in Canterlot do.”
Maud Pie didn’t bother with any further response, instead keeping her attention upon Rarity. Her other hand reached to hold the underside of her muzzle, gently turning her face. The white mare’s head swiveled loosely. “Rarity, talk to me…please…please…” she whispered.
Rarity’s eyes focused in and out, as if unable to decide whether to look at the mare in front of her or the strands of hair fallen askew over her face. Her voice gurgled in her throat while her lips twitched in the direction of a smile. “M…M-Maud.” She reached out with her own hand and grasped at the earth pony’s face. Her imbalanced senses caused this motion to be substantially less graceful, though, instead shoving her palm against Maud Pie’s cheek, fingers clenching. Maud Pie, for her part, didn’t show much distress for this. “They…they…they carved…th-the rocks,” she stammered through sobbing gasps of breath. Despite the pressure of her ballooning form, she was smiling. “I s-s-saw them.”
Maud Pie only nodded and stared back. Any amount of recognition for what was being said was unimportant to her at this moment.
Something pressed against the far end of Rarity’s belly, which might as well have been worlds away. Fine and delicate, ticklish. That kind of stimulation might have sent her into a fit were it not for the grey mare’s touch keeping her grounded. The thin point began to move, sweeping in broad arcs, tracing out shapes that she couldn’t see. Her skin tingled faintly wherever these paths were left, leaving a warmth that seeped into her distended womb. The vibrant life within her stilled in its writhing, entering a slumber. That heat continued to press deeper, coursing through her, chasing away the numbing strain that had overtaken her.
“There,” Gossamer Gleam murmured, “that will help her remain coherent. Try getting her to stand.”
“Come on, Rarity,” Maud Pie said with a grunt as she braced herself against the unicorn’s greater bulk and began to lift. Not having that soothing touch upon her back brought the pressure flooding back in, but it was now fainter. It occurred to Rarity that she had to move her legs. She had to force feeling back through herself to remember that she had legs in the first place. The limbs had gone numb from some tremendous weight that had been resting on top of them. That weight remained even as she shifted and fought to raise herself. The floor didn’t want to let go of her.
She stopped in the middle of trying to straighten her spine, to lift into a full upright standing posture. She could tell how much she was trying to lift—not in exact numerals, but enough to be sure that it was beyond the reasonable threshold. Her brain was instinctively telling her that there was no way she could do that, even with Maud Pie’s help. Then there was a pulsation that ran through her stomach, and suddenly that doubt didn’t seem like so much of an inhibitor. With a few more grunts and wheezes, Rarity was standing again.
Maud Pie was standing beside her and Gossamer Gleam was just in front of her. The cavern was calm and quiet again. There was no sign of the dark thing that had emerged from the pit. Cool air washed over Rarity’s sweat-dampened form. Far too much of it, in fact—if she didn’t know any better, she’d think that she was naked.
Then she looked down at herself and it became apparent that being naked was the least of her concerns.
It took several seconds for her to identify that the great slopes of white were even supposed to be a part of her own body. She shouldn’t have breasts that were bigger than watermelons. She shouldn’t have a gut that jutted out farther in front of her than the span of her arms and looked at least triple the width of her shoulders. But she saw them shift about in accordance with the rotations of her torso, bobbing up and then down and from side to side. She felt the tugging on her overtaxed skin as those swollen globes bobbed and wobbled. The sudden surge of growth had largely obliterated her wardrobe, shirt and shorts and underwear lying around her in pieces, coveralls only left in the form of sleeves hanging loose around her arms and legs. Only the helmet perched upon her head remained untouched.
There was something she could discern at the farthest end of her circumference, just where the horizon of flesh began to slope away from her. A few traces of lines that had been etched into her fur, glowing with a magenta radiance. She couldn’t quite make out any actual shapes from this angle.
She was reasonably certain that she should have been screaming. Maybe she was, at least internally—there might have been a copy of her voice wailing away in the depths of her mind. Instead, however, she found herself giving a weak, delirious chuckle, rattling at the back of her throat, as she reached toward her front, placing her arms against the sides of her midsection and reaching as far as she could. The ancient vitality within pressed outward in response to her at the same time.
There came another hand, brushing against hers as it tenderly touched the swell of her gut. Maud Pie regarded her with a faint wilting of worry in her eyes. There was warmth she felt from her own far smaller womb pushing into hers, but now that she was the one radiating like a bright sun it scarcely affected her. Then her gaze steeled in a flash as she glanced toward the third pony. “You said that we wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
“We shouldn’t have,” Gossamer Gleam grumbled in reply, and she crossed her arms over her chest, resting on top of the hill of her belly. The gravid sphere had largely eclipsed her torso and was now sagging past her waist, spilling out of the front opening of her dress, and her bosom seemed to be on track for doing the same. “I was supposed to be the vessel. It thought that she would be more suitable.” The ghost of a sneer crossed her face. “If I had thought there was a chance somepony would be chosen over me, I wouldn’t have bothered to ask anypony to come.”
Maud Pie grimaced and glowered back before returning to Rarity. “So, we’re done, then. We can leave.”
Gossamer Gleam looked to the pit again, eyes narrowed. She had the air of a mare who had been stood up by her coltfriend. “Yes,” she finally said before she started to walk.
“Come on, Rarity,” the earth pony then said, and she started to push, urging the white mare to shuffle about in place until she had turned around. The motion felt awkward and imprecise now. Her thighs were grinding against each other with every step and her legs pushed against the underside of her stomach. The weight was not burdensome, but that didn’t change that her center of mass had shifted dramatically. After a few seconds of this, she shook off the loose pant legs bunched up around her ankles, and then she did the same for the sleeves hanging from her arms, neither of them serving any purpose at this point.
Then she looked ahead of her, and she saw the great cliff face winding up into the blackness. The spotlight from her helmet centered upon the base of the ramp and then traced it upward, neck craning higher and higher. She couldn’t even see where the path reached the wall and then turned and doubled back. All at once, she sobered up from her daze as if she had been dunked in ice cold water—which she might have thought was exactly what had happened if the chill running up her spine was any indication. Her hooves throbbed, as if in anticipation, and a groan bubbled up from her throat.
“I don’t think I can walk beside you on the climb,” Maud Pie admitted regrettably. “Can you handle walking on your own?”
“Ah…I…” The words were catching in her throat, so she simply nodded. And, to demonstrate, she wrested herself free from Maud Pie’s grasp. The motion caused her to stagger momentarily, but she caught herself and kept from tipping over. Not that she would have had too far to fall, with her midsection projecting in front of her like a built-in medicine ball. Her senses were overwhelmed with tugging and straining and weight, but she remained standing.
Maud Pie looked on, seemingly not entirely convinced, still wracked with worry, but she didn’t voice that. “I’ll be right behind you, Rarity, if you need me,” she said while she hefted their packs of supplies and discoveries, still effortlessly carrying both them and her own bulk. Her tone was as calm as ever. It wasn’t the most reassuring sound she could have offered, but it was steady, as firm as the rocks which the earth pony loved so much. A rock to stand against was exactly what Rarity needed right now.
The unicorn looked again to the steep path, which Gossamer Gleam was now standing at the base of, waiting for them—just a little anxious herself, perhaps. She focused on the life inside her, which was now just as important as her own, if not even more so. “I’ll be fine,” she said quietly, possibly more to herself than anypony else. “I’ll be…fine.”
= = = = =
“Oh…ooh…”
Rarity was not fine.
She panted and gasped as she leaned to the side, bracing her shoulder on the rock wall. Her skin was worn and bruised from having to brush up on those rough surfaces so many times. She had lost count of how many times she’d had to stop like this, and that told her that it was far too many. She knew that Maud Pie was behind her, but a step away, ready to come forward should she need her, and Gossamer Gleam was waiting just ahead, observing all of this tacitly. After she’d had enough time to catch her breath—which was taking longer and longer with each successive pause—she’d turn back in the direction of the path and begin to walk.
Stone brushed against the lower swell of her distended midsection.
Why did it have to be a pit, she asked herself, not for the first time. Why couldn’t they have been climbing to the top of Mount Canter instead of crawling around in its depths? The ascent would have been nightmarish, but at least that would have been the first part, out of the way easily enough, rather than the second. After already being winded and terrified so many times, she would have been exhausted when it came time for the climb even if she didn’t have to deal with her present pregnancy.
It also would have been hard enough even without her continuing to swell ever further.
Gossamer Gleam had confirmed it when she first felt the hairs of her coat touching against the slope as she took a bobbing step forward: the lesser shadows of the cavern were continuing to be drawn again. Rarity would have liked nothing better than for that to be the motivation necessary to get her moving at a faster pace, but that hadn’t lasted long before her encumbrance got the better of her. If only she could be aware of these occurrences as they were happening, if she could see something flitting about in the gloom, then maybe she could do something about it. She never felt any kind of touch, she was only able to discern the sensation of another life added to the collective inside her, adding that much more to the total weight.
The fact that they were walking upward also meant that the ground in front of them was higher than the ground they were standing upon. This made it so that Rarity’s gut, which projected so far before her, had to cover less distance before it started to rub against the ground than it would have been if they were standing on a level surface. The stone floor was smooth, but it still chafed to have such regular contact. The wall, then, being considerably rougher, was right out, so she had to twist her torso in such a way the side of her stomach was bumping against it as infrequently as possible. Unfortunately, this meant instead holding herself partially over the side of the precipice. She did everything in her power to keep herself balanced, but any time there was even a slight hiccup in her posture, Maud Pie was quick to come beside her, placing a firm hand upon her, and that calmed her nerves, however briefly.
Calming certainly helped her a great deal in this environment. In contrast with the echoing commotion which came from their passage on the way down, the cavern was now unnaturally quiet aside from their hoofsteps and panting breaths and the pounding in Rarity’s skull. She wasn’t sure which of these she preferred. The thought of emptiness, devoid of life and thought, seemed terrifying to her in a way that she hadn’t considered before.
Rarity groaned when she looked ahead of herself, over the twin crests of her chest, and saw a cavern wall come looming out of the darkness once more. On the one hand, these were some of the few definite landmarks they had to go off of to indicate that they were making any progress. The bottom of the cavern was now far below them, lost in the black if they ever tried to shine a light over the edge, and the top of the cliff was also still too far away to see any sign of it. On the other hand, taking the turn was far more effort than it should have been. Her womb had come to occupy so much space that she couldn’t get enough clearance to squeeze around the corner. Instead, she had to turn away from the walls, and for a heart-chilling moment she had to let her gut hang out over the side of the path before she backed up and then continued the winding route upward. She was mindful of Maud Pie standing within the arc of her turn, the earth pony cautiously maintaining a safe distance.
“You are handling this well.”
The voice came from above, not below. Rarity looked upward and saw Gossamer Gleam turned to face her. The entire front of her dress had been undone, letting her belly and breasts hang freely outward. She may have been far smaller than the white mare was herself, but she was still fecund to an extent that would have astonished her before today, lavender globes eclipsing much of her torso from this angle and even the breadth of her thighs. Like Maud Pie, she hadn’t shown much strain thus far, though she wasn’t burdened with carrying supplies. Her countenance had returned to its usual dull neutrality.
“Th…thanks…I guess?” she replied uncertainly. She didn’t feel like she was handling anything well right now. She felt damp with sweat across every inch of her form—a form that was presently comprised of far more inches than it should have been—burning in the joints and the creases where skin ground against skin. And it was worse than that over her front, where she felt the thin trickle of milk eking steadily from her nipples, rivulets running down her breasts and over the arcane insignia that had been traced upon her stomach. At least for her, her fur was already white, where the other two mares were left with white streaks along their coats.
“Perhaps it saw something in you,” the lavender unicorn mused dully, “and that was why it chose you.” That second part was said not without some small amount of bitterness.
Rarity thought she ought to have been angered, but she remembered the mare’s outcry while she kneeled in supplication upon the altar. She remembered the anguish in her voice.
“You really did all this just to get yourself impregnated,” Maud Pie commented dryly, not as a question but a statement of fact and subtle derision.
“If it was that simple, I would have simply taken a stroll through the lower districts without my skirt,” she replied with a huff. “There are creatures in this world—from beyond our world—who long for nothing more than the satisfaction of having their spawn brought to life. For some of them, this is no longer an option, their kind having died out eons ago, their bodies withered and decayed. It is to them that I offer myself—” For emphasis, she placed her hands against the sides of her chest, squeezing the pert mounds together, before tracing down over the curvature of her stomach, then underneath, cupping against its nether reaches. Her expression faintly shifted as she took in a deep breath through her nostrils and her eyelids fluttered. “—as surrogate, midwife, wet nurse, incubator, whatever is needed. I harbor that life within me, however detrimental it might seem, for the sake of the continued betterment of our universe.”
She held that posture for some time while Rarity looked up at her—conscious that they ought not to be delaying so much, but also slowly working through her own thoughts. She placed her hands upon her own bloated stomach and dragged her fingers across it. The sensitive skin tingled and coursed with heat. She felt the pressure upon her, the tautness of her abdomen, the weight tugging down, the force pressing at the gates of her loins. It was not exactly pleasant, but as she simply stood here and took it in instead of worrying about walking, she felt herself at risk of drowning in these sensations, lost in the tidal waves of sensory input washing over her. For the time being, she could feel comforted rather than burdened.
“Perhaps,” the white mare said quietly, “you had begun to focus on the means rather than the end.”
Gossamer Gleam opened her eyes and stared right back at her. Her mane appeared to bristle slightly for a few seconds. Then her gaze fell, and her shoulders sagged. “Perhaps,” she repeated plainly.
The unicorn resumed trudging back up the path. Before Rarity could do the same, she looked back over her shoulder to Maud Pie. She bore her usual neutral expression, but there was a curious glimmer in her eyes as she held one hand against the side of her rounded gut. Rarity smirked weakly at her.
By the mercy of the Sun and Moon, it wasn’t much longer before they crested the top of the cliff. Rarity wasted no time in stepping far away from the edge of that abyssal chasm; in retrospect, the dark might have helped her in not giving her vertigo whenever she looked over the side, but that pitch black void wasn’t a much more welcome sight. She knew that she couldn’t afford to relax just yet, though however much she wanted to, as they still weren’t out of the cave. She had to do everything in her power not to lean forward, not wanting to know how little bending of her posture it would take for her belly to come to rest upon the stone floor. From here, they could see where the walls of the chamber converged to a single small opening, and from within it a bright green glow shone forth.
“We will not have to worry about the swelling anymore once we pass through the luminite passage,” Gossamer Gleam announced. Despite her stoic appearance, she was still breathing heavily, winded from the climb.
“Luminite?” Maud Pie asked with just a hint of interest ringing in her tone. “That’s what was producing the light?”
“Yes, it is quite rare these days, I know,” the lavender unicorn replied coolly, “the mines above were depleted of it long ago. Fortunate for us that they did not come down this far, otherwise there would be nothing to keep the dark from leaking out.”
Rarity felt a strange pang within her. Anger, resentment. She wasn’t so sure she liked what the green light had to offer her anymore. Her rational brain won out in the end, though, given that it was imperative not to become immobilized by her own midsection.
Of course, that didn’t mean that it was still going to be pleasant as they walked forward into the emerald brilliance. Having been in the dim lighting of the cave for so long, the viridian glow was even harsher on their eyes. Rarity pondered the idea of hefting up her breasts and using the swollen mass as a blind to cover her face. She doubted that such a thing was in any book on etiquette anypony had ever written—because no sane pony would even consider such a notion—but it surely had to be the peak of uncouthness.
Maud Pie didn’t appear to mind the light as much, and this time she was squinting into the glow, seemingly trying to identify what was within it. There were twitches at the corners of her eyes and mouth that made Rarity think of how her sister Pinkie Pie could get to be when she was on withdrawal from partying. No doubt the earth pony longed to do some research here, but she too understood that they couldn’t afford to dillydally here.
Then she saw the faint outline of the tunnel coming toward them. Oh, Celestia, Rarity had nearly forgotten about the tunnel. She now found herself unable to decide whether this was better or worse than the cliff path. At least the cliff had even hoofing all the way down. On the other hand, this one was shorter…but on the ascent it would inevitably feel longer than it had on the way down.
With an inward cringe, she pressed in after Gossamer Gleam.
She felt the touch of smooth polished stone against the sides of her gut. Not merely brushing; dragging, prolonged contact. The walls pushed back against her, threatening to wedge her in place.
“A-ah!” She gasped in alarm, perhaps louder than she should have as her subconscious recognized the potential threat at play here before her brain could finish catching up. She couldn’t fit into the tunnel. She was stuck.
“What’s wrong?” There was a bump of a belly against her back as Maud Pie approached. This, however, only had the effect of nudging her further forward and prompting greater discomfort as the unicorn’s gut wedged tighter, forced upward, and that elicited another cry. In spite of her prior musing, her breasts were now being forced up toward her face anyway.
“The slope is too steep for her.” Gossamer Gleam’s voice was slightly muffled, coming from behind the great wall of white that stood between them.
“What…what am I supposed to do then?!” she exclaimed, her panic and terror boiling over anew.
“Step back and turn around,” the other unicorn instructed, with just a hint of urgent wariness in her voice, “you will have to make the climb backwards.”
“W-what?!”
“It’s fine,” Maud Pie said beside her, whispering into her ear while a gentle hand caressed her shoulder and the base of her neck. “I’ll be spotting you from below.”
That stopped her alarm from rising further, but it wasn’t quite enough to get her to calm down. “But…but what if I slip and fall on you?” she asked, biting her lip anxiously. And she didn’t want to think about what such a disastrous fall would mean for the passengers within her womb either. That maternal impulse sprang up spontaneously within her mind from a place that she couldn’t identify.
“Don’t worry about me,” the earth pony said, soft yet stern, “worry about getting out of here.”
Rarity gulped nervously but didn’t protest. She shimmied backward, extricating herself from the tunnel opening. Again she was struck by the difficulty that she faced even in turning in place. Worse when she felt something jab against her skin from within the brightness beside the path, and she stifled a yelp. Maud Pie still stood by and kept her steady, remaining there until the advancing mass of flesh forced her to back away. Once she had turned around, she glanced back over her shoulder and shuffled backward, stumbling only momentarily when her hoof stepped onto the slanted floor.
Slowly, awkwardly, Rarity began the climb, one step after another. The converging angles of the tunnel floor required that she contort her hooves in such a way that they angled outward. Equine legs weren’t meant for this, certainly not while having to heft this kind of bulk. She knew that it would only take putting her weight down in just the wrong way for her to slip, and that would result in a twisted ankle at bare minimum. It absolutely did not help that she couldn’t see where she was going, not willing to turn and crane her neck about to try to look over her shoulder, forcing her to blindly feel about with each step, slowing down the process even further. Of course, it wasn’t like she would have been able to see if she was facing the other way, either, what with the massive blind spot beneath her that she had as a result of her swollen front.
With her heavily sagging belly stretching out and down before her, she now didn’t have to worry about pushing against the ground as she advanced, unlike the climb out from the abyssal cavern. Instead, however, she now had to be concerned with the fact that there were walls on either side of her, and there was little in the way of wiggle room. The passage that had once been more than wide enough to accommodate her now only scarcely provided sufficient space. When she was angled perfectly straight, head-on with the direction of the tunnel, she could feel open air on either side of her middle. It then only took a slight turn toward either direction for her to drag against the stone, eliciting a pained grunt as that offset her balance. Claustrophobia was seeping into the back of her mind.
Her vision was taken up entirely by the view of white globes of flesh in front of her, the valley of cleavage between her breasts and the vast slope of gut beyond that. It was impossible for her to see Maud Pie at this angle, somewhere underneath the canopy of her mass. Ironically, after her uncertainty about attempting to block out the light before, she now found herself doing that unconsciously. The fact that she almost entirely filled the passage from one end to the other meant that much of the light filtering up from below was being blocked out.
She didn’t want to think about how close she had come to being unable to fit at all. How much longer would she have had to wait to get to a point that she couldn’t even stuff herself into the narrow passage?
Rarity tried her best to focus upon the sounds of Maud Pie’s hoofsteps below her, just to reassure her of the mare’s presence. That was made harder by the presence of Gossamer Gleam’s steps which were immediately behind her. She was a lot closer than she ever had at any point on their climbs before this—it might have helped that they were standing back to back, so there were no distended abdomens getting in the way. Every now and then, she felt the hairs of the other pony’s tail sweeping against her, almost ticklish upon her bare skin. Occasionally, she thought she felt a prickling upon the back of her neck, the hesitation that came with being watched, of those purple eyes fixing their gaze upon her. Why did that mare have to be so…strange? All this time and the machinations of her mind were still inscrutable. It frustrated Rarity to no end that she couldn’t—
Her hoof skidded on stone. Her balance tipped. Her belly pressed into the wall, halting her movement just for a moment. Enough time to find her hoofing again. Firm hands had found their way to her underside, but she had already succeeded in keeping herself standing.
It wasn’t enough to reassure her, this time. Her breathing was coming in gasps and sobs. Her nerves were shot, and her legs felt like they had been locked in place, refusing to respond to her brain’s commands. “I…I can’t,” she whispered, her eyes burning. No matter how much she wanted to get out of this hellhole. No matter how much it felt like the walls were closing in on her. She couldn’t move.
Maud Pie didn’t say anything—she might not have heard her—but kept her hands in place, gently rubbing in circles across the taut, damp-furred skin. Rarity could possibly accept being stuck here forever if it meant having that gentle touch upon her.
Hooves scrabbled on the rock behind her. “Maud,” Gossamer Gleam called out from over her head, “please keep her stable.” Then the other unicorn was pressing into her back, the rounded surface of her own midsection pushing against her. She whimpered and shuddered, thinking that she would surely lose her balance and fall, but Maud Pie’s hold upon her underside remained firm. She gritted her teeth and looked back over her shoulder as much as she could.
This led to the discovery of a breast being presented to her, inches away from her face, engorged purple nipple pointed directly toward her. The lavender unicorn’s impassive face was just above, staring down expectantly.
“G-Goss—” Rarity exclaimed with a blush rapidly overtaking her cheeks before the mare placed a hand to her face, brushing aside the scattered locks of her mane. Her gaze seemed to be taking her in, evaluating her in a way that she hadn’t before.
“You are weary,” she replied flatly. “You need your strength. Drink.”
“I…y-you…I can’t—”
“Drink.” The hand hooked around the far side of her head and applied enough pressure to coerce movement out of her. Rarity remained stiff for several seconds, her neck and back frozen in place, before she permitted herself to twist her posture enough to get into the necessary position. Having to contort herself to reach backward was beyond uncomfortable, but it wasn’t as if she could turn around in the enclosed confines of the tunnel at this point. The smell of milk—but not quite as she was familiar with it—filled her nostrils as her lips hesitantly sought out that fleshy teat.
It wasn’t like Rarity knew exactly how to do this, having not been breastfed since she was a foal, but it came surprisingly naturally. The warm, stiffening flesh filled her mouth, and she didn’t even have to suck at all for a gush of milk to splash over her tongue. It was more bitter than the kind she was accustomed to drinking, and thicker, richer. She wasn’t sure that she was supposed to like it, but it elicited a primal thirst in her that she had never experienced before. She eagerly swallowed, even with the way that she had twisted her neck constricting her throat. Gossamer Gleam, meanwhile, gently massaged the swollen globe to ease the flow, keeping it coming at a steady rate. Both mares crooned faintly to each other as this process went on. However briefly, it felt as if the tunnel and the struggle didn’t matter anymore.
Paradoxically, despite what the intended purpose had been, Rarity found her knees shaking, legs threatening to give out beneath her. Her eyelids were fluttering and drooping. Then Gossamer Gleam retreated from her, removing her nipple with a pop, and Rarity unconsciously tried to follow before awareness reassumed control. Her eyes focused once again, looking upon the mare before her, who stared back with just as much impassiveness as before. Mortifying embarrassment overtook her, that furious blush returning in full force. “I…I’m t-terribly s-s-sorry I…I just…” she stammered.
“Do not fret about it,” Gossamer Gleam interjected before she could collect herself. “It is simply what was necessary.” There might have been a hint of a smirk on her muzzle before she started to turn back in the direction of the path.
Rarity lingered a few seconds before she focused enough to return to her task at hand. She felt the milk inside her, stored in her stomach—her actual stomach, not her packed womb—and invigorating her. She was slow to get back into the motions of taking one step after another, but there was no longer any tremulous shaking in her body. She didn’t even mind when she no longer felt Maud Pie’s touch, no longer needing that support to uphold herself.
The climb went on in silence. It remained difficult, it remained agonizingly slow. Rarity still winced at the tugging of her own body upon her overtaxed frame, yearning nothing more than to meet with the ground and to ease the burden upon her. One step after another, and she couldn’t look ahead to see how much farther there was to go. Her legs and hooves ached more than they ever had before. But she no longer felt incapable of surmounting this task, and she remained steady all the rest of the way up.
Then her hoof came down on the ground in the wrong way again, approaching where she thought there would be stone only to meet open air, having to abruptly catch up to find something to land upon. She shuddered and froze, her breath catching in her throat, but there was no panic this time. Instead she took in what she was feeling. No steep angle this time—flat, solid earth. It almost seemed alien after having been in the tunnel for so long. Then she looked around herself: down past her shoulder and the swell of her hip, cavern floor, and up over her, the wall which the hole with the glowing green light was carved into.
“Oh, thank Celestia,” Rarity whispered breathlessly as she pulled her other hoof out of the passage and then backed up toward the nearest wall, chest heaving as her breath came in and out.
Maud Pie emerged shortly after her, and she stepped away from the emerald glow. There was a clatter as she let the packs she’d been carrying slip from her shoulders and fall to the ground. There was weariness in the way she held herself, posture sagging, head listing slightly, ears flat. “You could’ve said we were near the top,” she murmured dryly.
“I did not want Rarity to slip up in her excitement,” Gossamer Gleam replied. She stood farther away in the gloom, the light from her horn extinguished, leaving only that of the runes over her stomach. Rarity had wondered how long she could keep that up—even for such a simple spell, using it for such an extended period of time wore on a unicorn’s magical reserves.
Maud Pie made a noise that might have been intended to be a scoff but came out more like a grunt while she too leaned against a rock formation, her breasts and gut sagging downward.
“Taking a break? Were you not eager to leave?” the unicorn then asked with a single hollow chuckle.
“Later,” she grumbled flatly, “we can afford to stop now.”
Gossamer Gleam shrugged but said nothing else. For a moment, Rarity thought she felt those amethyst eyes looking her way, analyzing her. It seemed different, less impersonal. Then she retreated and lowered herself into a sitting position, legs crossed, lap filled by her belly
.
Rarity wished to ease herself similarly, but she knew there wouldn’t be much to be done. If she sat down, she’d be utterly engulfed by her own front. To say nothing of how she didn’t want to sit upon bare rock—Maud Pie might not mind that, but she was not made of such hardy stuff. It was awfully tempting to lean forward onto the bulk of her midsection and use her bosom as a pillow, but no, she wasn’t going to subject the little ones to that. Oh that she could be lying upon the bed in the palace quarters that had been provided to her…
Her eyes lit up. How was she going to get back to her room? After they got out of the mines, they had to walk through the streets of Canterlot and she was naked and unfathomably pregnant.
She was pregnant. Somehow, now that she was out of that hellish cavern, it seemed as if that notion was truly hitting her for the first time. What kind of an impact was this going to have on her life? She didn’t know the first thing about raising foals. She wasn’t even entirely sure what form of life it was that she bore within her or what it would emerge as. There was no possible way she could—
“Hey.”
Maud Pie stood next to her. Rarity looked at her and felt herself calming. She had been on the cusp of hyperventilating.
Without saying a word, the earth pony sidled up beside her. Their respective bulks didn’t make this especially easy; getting to a point that their shoulders were touching meant mashing their distended torsos together, with Rarity’s threatening to engulf the other. Maud Pie placed a hand upon the white mare’s shoulders and her fingers started to knead in, that soothing touch lancing into her. For her part, Rarity tried to do the same, reaching in past the collar of her still-mostly-intact coveralls to touch the skin directly. She didn’t have the same strength or technique, but it seemed to elicit the hint of a smile regardless.
“What are we going to do, Maud?” she asked with a lamentable sigh.
“I’ll figure it out,” she replied quietly, and her fingers calmly stroked along the other mare’s neck. “I’ll squeeze that snob until she gives us everything we need to know.”
Rarity snorted and smirked. “Don’t be too hard on her. I think she’s already disappointed enough.”
Maud Pie looked at her sternly for several seconds. “Mmm…fine, but only because you said so.” Then her gaze shifted downward. She shifted her spine and pelvis and rubbed her gut against the larger white globe. “And I’m kind of glad this ended up being you instead of her.”
Rarity sharply turned to look at her, so fast that her mane whipped about and her helmet rattled on her head, but Maud Pie had returned to her flat, inscrutable expression. “What?” she asked in disbelief.
Maud Pie blinked slowly, her lips pursed while she seemed to think, before she spoke. “I had a very good look of this for the past thirty-seven minutes and fifty-two seconds—” She prodded the unicorn’s gut with one finger. How she knew the exact elapsed time was a mystery, but Rarity had long accepted that the Pie family was anything but normal. “—so I would have much rather had it be you than her.”
Rarity stared, eyes wide, agape.
“Sorry if that’s weird,” Maud Pie then said with the same flat tone, “if you’d prefer something more typical, I also got to look at your butt for a long time while we were in the cave.”
That elicited another snort, breaking Rarity out of her confused trance. “Why Miss Pie, I didn’t take you to be an ogler,” she commented teasingly. At the same time, she didn’t make any attempt to hide her own glance down at the earth pony’s expanded cleavage.
“What can I say?” she replied, smiling slowly, “I like to look closely at the things that I appreciate.”
Rarity chortled enough for both of them. They eased themselves into each other’s sides, balancing precariously, heads leaning together. Now this was a rock the unicorn didn’t mind resting upon.
Author's Note
It figures that even when I start working well over a week in advance, I still end up not finishing until the very last minute. It's the curse of Mayternity. That's what I get for deciding to include multiple characters.
Surprisingly, no sex at all this time around. Unless you count the breastfeeding.
Even more surprising that it took me this long to write about Maud Pie.
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