The Rise of Gruntilda the Wicked
Evicted
by Mystic
(I’m so sorry)
For as long as Book Worm could remember, she had wanted to be a librarian. Some of her earliest memories were listening to her grandmother read her stories from the tomes they lovingly kept. Their spines were crinkled like her grandma’s face whenever she smiled. Or frowned. Or simply sat there reminiscing about old times (Book Worm’s grandma was very old, you see). As a librarian herself, Book Worm’s grandmother was also very well versed in pony literature.
As a foal Book Worm would stay up late and read all kinds of wonderful and amazing things, sheltered behind thin cotton sheets. The yellowing pages of her favourite stories would be lit up with a pale light from her own lantern. Grandma would come in sometimes and catch her up so late, but she would never be mad. “You’re part of the Book family,” she would say with a small smile. “Looking after and reading books is in your blood.” They had been words she had lived by, held onto for her entire life. They meant something to her.
Book Worm was a plain kind of pony with a tan coat and messy lot of violet hair. A dusting of freckles covered her cheeks, and she had the smallest dimples when she smiled. Perhaps she was pretty in rustic country way, but she preferred to think of it as ‘superbly normal’.
She was also a pony of terrible fortune. Perhaps the universe had been trying to show her something when, as a foal, lightning struck dead both her parents in the space of five minutes (the second strike happening while her mother stood next to her fallen father (the first pony casualties from lightning in over a hundred years – something about their genes and an increased susceptibility to electric currents interfering with unicorn magic (a very rare condition, apparently))), but while Book Worm was unlucky, she was also a cheerful soul. No matter what life threw at her, she tried her best to keep a smile on her face.
And so, with her parents gone and money tight, she had held on to her dream: her dream that one day she would take over for her beloved grandma and run the Ponyville Library.
And then, on one fateful day, her dream came true. She still remembered the look on her grandmother’s face: her wrinkled visage scrunched up in pain as the pneumonia ushered in the grey pony. The old mare had leant up, hacking and coughing, and whispered, “Please. For me.” Book Worm had nodded once, too upset to talk. It was ok, though, because she knew exactly what her grandma had meant; look after the library and follow her dream.
It couldn’t be more simple. Book Worm had purpose. She was alone, but it was alright, because she would always remember her grandma and her parents through the library that had been in their family for almost as long as Ponyville had been a town.
Book Worm set about her new life with vigour. She used her life savings to expand the stock of the library to include larger magic, and history, and magical history sections (her favourite, even though she was an earth pony). So in no time at all, and with the help of her friend Reference (the local book seller), she was able to make Ponyville Library one of the best libraries in all of Equestria.
And for Book Worm, life was great. Nay, life was perfect.
“What do you mean ‘evicted’?!” Book Worm cried, her jaw devoid of motor control as her brain tried very hard (and ultimately unsuccessfully) to process what she had just been told.
The Canterlot guard shifted awkwardly in place, inhaling sharply through his nose. “Yeeeah. See, it’s like this. The Princess needs you, because of super secret matters of national security, to leave your home for a week. She needs to use it over the Summer Sun Celebration that’s being held here in Ponyville.”
“But… but why?” Book Worm stammered, collapsing back on her haunches, her violet mane falling in front of her face like a curtain. “I don’t understand.”
“Uh, we can’t really explain,” the guard said. “Don’t worry; you will be back in before you know it!” He shifted a little to the side, motioning in another guard who promptly began to collect up all of Book Worm’s photos and other personal effects and put them in a cardboard box. There was a crunch of splintering glass as the urn with her grandma’s ashes was dropped inside.
“Oh pony feathers,” the guard carrying the box muttered. He looked up, blushing. “Uh, everything’s fine over here. Just fine. How are things with you?”
Book Worm’s world felt like it was shrinking around her. “But this is my home… my job! You can’t just kick me out for a week! Who will run the library?”
“Look, Princess’ orders, okay ma’am? We’re just doing what we’re told. I’m sure it’s very, very important. This is still your home, just somepony close to the Princess needs to borrow it. That’s all.”
Book Worm couldn’t even summon the will to wince as the guard dropped the cardboard box completely. She barely noticed the small puff of dust that billowed out from inside. “I… I mean…”
“That’s the spirit!” the guard said, pushing her toward the door. Book Worm was too shocked to resist. She stopped when she was outside, the daylight bright and confusing. “Don’t worry,” the guard said with a cheerful smile. “You will be back before you know it!”
“What do you mean ‘evicted’?!” Book Worm cried out, her face a mask of horror. Despite it being the second time in a week, the shock of the news was yet to grow old. “And what do you mean ‘permanently’?!”
Princess Celestia shuffled awkwardly on her hooves, looking embarrassed like a child caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. “Yeeeah,” she said, exhaling through her nose. “It’s like this. There has been a change in plan, my most loyal and wonderful subject.”
“…A change in plan?” Book Worm repeated weakly.
“That is correct. I must thank you for understanding,” Celestia said quickly. “You are truly such a kind soul.”
Book Worm’s jaw fell open, tears filling her eyes. “But… but why?”
“Well you see,” Celestia said, her eyes darting to and fro, “I may have promised my student, Twilight Sparkle, the one who just saved Equestria from Eternal night and freed my sister after a thousand years imprisonment on the moon, I might add, that she could live here in Ponyville so she could continue her study of friendship.”
“But I don’t understand… why here? Why can’t she go somewhere else in Ponyville?”
Celestia tapped her hooves together, chewing on her lip. “Um, tell me, Book Ant, do you believe in fate?”
“Fate?”
“Yes. Destiny!”
“Not really…”
“Smart girl. I mean, who in Discord’s name would believe such rubbish? Anyway, if you just scrunch up your eyes and tilt your head to the left and believe in destiny and fate for a moment, imagine that Twilight really needs your library so she can save Equestria from certain doom.”
Book Worm blinked. “It’s destiny that means she has to live in my library…?”
“In Twilight’s library,” Celestia corrected automatically.
Book Worm’s soul shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
Celestia gave an awkward cough. “Well… I have to be off, Royal Business and the like. You know how it is, running a kingdom.” The Princess cringed as Book Worm looked up with large, tear-filled eyes.
“Where will I live?” the young mare whispered.
“Oh! That’s easy! I have hired a crack construction team to build you a new home out by the Everfree Forest. Admittedly, they did start work today, but I am sure it will be finished in no time at all. In the meantime, you can live in a hotel, I’m sure. I hear Ponyville has some wonderful establishments.”
“Why… why would you do this?”
“Oh look at the time,” Celestia said, checking her bare leg. “I must be leaving now. Thank you so much for your understanding, Book Slug… Snail? You are among the best serfs Equestria has to offer. The world will be safe thanks to your selfless sacrifice.” With that, the Princess got up and strode away, closing the door behind her with an ominous crash. A painting Book Worm had just put back up slipped from its hook and broke on the floor.
Of course, as fate would have it, the window was open, and Book Worm heard Celestia’s gentle voice drift in clear as day: “Well that was awwwkward…”
The hotel was appalling. Of course, you could try to sugar coat it with pretty words or a funny anecdote, but the new species of cockroach spawning from the bubbling sludge behind the fridge spoke for itself. The walls were stained in the strangest places; the windows were lined with spider web-like cracks filled with gunk; the bed was ominously patchy with dark spots that seemed to move slightly whenever the earth pony looked away and looked back. And worst of all, the place smelled. Terribly. It was the smell of something dying in its own vomit. And judging from the look of the place, Book Worm wasn’t sure that actually wasn’t what it was.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping forward. The corners of her eyes were burning, so she rubbed them with a hoof. “Chin up, Book Worm,” she said quietly. “Put a smile on that face. Everything’s not all bad. What would Grandma think of you being all sad like this?”
Her comments helped her. To an extent, that is. There is only so much words can do when bombarded by all sides by a deluge of filth. At least it was only temporary. Her new house was being built, and tomorrow she would go out to see it. Everything was going to be fine. She just had to keep her smile.
Book Worm stood in the twilight air, watching from around a corner as a purple unicorn entered her home, a green dragon situated firmly on her back. They strode happily into the library, their faces practically shining with barely concealed joy.
Book Worm blinked away tears, scolding herself for feeling jealous. Her grandma always told her never to be jealous, because there is always a pony who is jealous of you, and it’s not fair to them. It wasn’t Twilight’s fault she had been kicked out of her own home… her own dream…
The unicorn and the dragon burst into laughter as they closed the door behind them, blocking the inside of the library from view. Book Worm tried her best to imagine that they weren’t laughing at her.
It was easier that way, you see.
The sun was shining brightly when Book Worm approached the fringes of the Everfree Forest. The forest itself was a wild and ferocious place, filled with dark magics and brutal, savage monsters. Even the trees seemed to whisper and creak of violence and evil when the wind moved their branches about.
It was a place Book Worm was about to call home.
Two earth ponies were setting up a small square of flat dirt about fifty paces from the forest’s edge. One was skinny and a pale yellow colour. The other was fat and a very unfortunate shade of brown. Each was clothed in plain blue overalls, a badge on their flanks proudly describing the pair as ‘Ponyville’s Premium Tree House Builders!’ (something which probably should have started the alarms screaming in Book Worm’s head. Still, the poor girl can probably be forgiven for trying to be optimistic). They were standing around, pointing with sticks they held in their mouths to the dirt patch, apparently engrossed in a deep and serious discussion.
“Hmm. Do you think she’s gonna want us to build more than one roo–” The pony stopped abruptly when Book Worm approached, suddenly smiling widely. “Oh hey there, miss! I didn’t see ya! How are you this fine afternoon?”
Book Worm looked between the two ponies and the tiny square foundation, barely three metres by three metres. Her stomach was already beginning to condense into a black hole of dread. “Um… hi? You’re the ponies building me my new house?”
“Oh yes!” the first pony replied, the skinny yellow one. “We are the finest builders in Ponyville that aren’t over building that massive tower on the other side of town. Which is almost everypony, really.”
The fat one spoke up in a voice as thick as mud, “We make tree houses.” Book Worm could tell that he was probably about as sharp as a tennis ball and fast as the Archback Glacier. This, when considering the glacier had melted last summer thanks to global warming, was not particularly quick. Then she scolded herself for being so mean. What would grandma think?
The yellow one gulped. “Yeah… that’s right. But don’t worry. We will build you a fantastic tree hous– home. The very best.”
Book Worm fought against the urge to collapse into the foetal position. Still, she had to admit, stroking her mane and whispering ‘who’s a pretty pony?’ was appearing pretty tempting right now. “Oh… um thank you. I don’t suppose that yes, you could build more than one room? It would be nice to have a kitchen… and a bathroom… and a bedroom. In fact…” she trailed off, biting her lip. “I would actually like to have my own little library, if that’s okay?”
The yellow one’s eyes darted nervously, and a tight chuckle escaped the thin line of his lips. “Ah-heh… yeah. Um… We definitely have the requisite skills for such an endeavour...” He looked to the fat one for inspiration but received nothing but the other pony’s complete inattention as he tried to consume a fly stubbornly attached to his nose. “Well… maybe?”
“It won’t be too hard, will it?” Book Worm said quickly, feeling equal parts guilty and depressed out of her skull. It was a potent cocktail of emotion, that’s for sure.
“Umm…”
“We will build you a really good tree house,” the fat one said, swallowing ominously. “You will love it.”
“I would really like it to be a little bigger, that’s all. Like a real home...” Book worm said meekly.
The yellow one froze. Book Worm raised an eyebrow, confused, when a great wet sniff snapped her attention over to the brown one. The fat pony was staring at her with shining eyes the size of dinner plates, the corners of his mouth wobbling like jelly caught in a 9.0 earthquake. Honestly, it was surprising his lips hadn’t fallen off.
“Um… are you okay?” Book Worm asked.
“Bigg–bigger?” the fat one stammered, choking back sobs. The yellow one hung his head with a sigh, sending a silent prayer to Celestia for help.
“If that’s not too much trouble,” Book Worm said, having absolutely no idea what the heck was going on.
“Why does everyone say bigger?! Why?! What’s wrong with my tree houses? They are the biggest and best I can do! Why does everypony always want them to be bigger?!”
Book Worm tried her very best to backtrack the conversation. But, as with all roads paved with good intentions, she pushed herself straight towards Tartarus’ fiery bosom of hell. “I just would like someplace proper where I can live. I’m sure whatever you can do will be lovely!”
“No one likes my tree houses!” the fat one wailed, collapsing to the ground. “They always tell me I’m too small!”
“Oh for Celestia’s sake,” the yellow one snapped, shooting Book Worm a venomous look. “Don’t you know he’s very sensitive about his sizes?”
“You mean the size of his tree houses?”
The yellow one ploughed straight over the top of her, patting the brown one awkwardly on the head. “Of course the size of his tree houses! Argh! He does the best he can! Why did you have to be so insensitive? Honestly, ponies like you are the scum of the earth.” He turned toward the fat one. “Don’t worry! The mean lady is just joking with you, Stool! Your tree houses are just the right size!”
The fat one who was called Stool pushed himself to his hooves, screaming to the sky, “You lied to me, dad! You said everypony would love my tree houses! You promised me I was good enough!”
Book Worm took this opportunity to leave. And quickly. In hindsight, she should have taken that route a long time ago. But hindsight only ever rocks up after you need his help. He was that kind of friend. The one who calls you out on every single factual inaccuracy you make in the heat of conversation, or tells you your sister is hot.
Stupid hindsight.
It was almost as stupid as Twilight Sparkle… None of this would have happened if it weren’t for her… She would be at home in her library, reading her favourite books and just generally being happy.
Muttering darkly, Book Worm made her way back to her dump of a hotel. But hey! At least she had somewhere to live!
It was three weeks before Book Worm ran out of money. Having spent all of her savings on stock mere weeks before she was kicked out (she was seriously beginning to consider the logic behind buying only magic centered or very exclusive books. She had even ordered in a super rare copy of Supernaturals especially! What a horrendous waste of money! Twilight Stupid Sparkle was probably getting all kinds of use out of them).
But moaning about the past was getting Book Worm nowhere, and so it was on one dreary day that she stepped out into the street, owning nothing but the saddlebags on her back – bags that were filled with nothing but air and the stink of helplessness, neither of which could be sold, making them completely useless to the pony.
Now, if Equestria was a forward-thinking modern nation state, then perhaps Book Worm could have fallen upon a network of social programmes designed to keep ponies like herself fed and under some sort of shelter. But alas, Equestria was instead a mostly agrarian kingdom with a backward legal system filled with pompous and vain aristocrats with nothing but greed in their heads. Not at all like modern democracies.
So, in Equestria’s current state of affairs, there was nothing to stop Book Worm from plummeting into a desperate state of poverty. Her home was nowhere near completion, either (she had checked almost every day for the past three weeks. Their progress? The dirt square had a stick outline! Sure birds would frequently come and take the sticks back up to their nests in what was frankly a much better use for them, but baby steps! Baby steps. Roam wasn’t built in a day).
By the day’s end Book Worm was miserable and starving. She contemplated going and begging the mayor to give her something to eat, but she was pretty certain the mayor would sell her into slavery if she tried. That pony’s obsession with making money was terrifying at times.
As the sun finally began to complete its lazy arch down toward the horizon, Book Worm found herself moving toward the bakery. She knew that sometimes, if there was bread left over from the day’s sales, they would throw it out. Perhaps that way she would be able to get enough food to eat while she waited the decades out for her house to be built.
Jumping a little at her elongated shadow, somehow convinced that it was about to come alive, Book Worm snuck up behind the bakers. She lay in wait in the shadows, watching the dumpster keenly for any movement.
The seconds ticked by, and nopony came out. A quick check proved that there was nothing in there already, expect for a smell that was almost as bad as her old hotel. Almost. She really couldn’t work out what was taking them so long. It’s not as if Ponyville was a place of crazy-busy traffic on a Sunday afternoon.
And then she heard it. Her voice. It drifted out, high pitched and nasally, so happy and definitely not sad. She watched as the unicorn walked out the store and into her field of vision, surrounded by piles of magically floating bread wrapped in brown paper.
“Are you sure you need all that much bread, miss Sparkle? You cleaned me out for the day!” the baker asked.
The unicorn giggled. A deplorably cute sound. “I’m sure, thank you! You never know when you might need a stockpile of bread, especially when you have such wonderful friends like mine who eat so much. It’s always best to be prepared!”
The baker chuckled, shaking his head. “If you say so, miss Sparkle. You have a wonderful evening, you hear?”
“Thank you! You too!” Twilight then turned and trotted away, whistling a merry tune, surrounded by her piles of fresh bread.
Book Worm could only stare silently at her. The unicorn who had taken everything. Absolutely everything… Now she was left with nothing. Absolutely nothing…
And it was all Twilight’s fault… Her and her stupid smile and pretty mane and interestingly ambiguous cutie mark.
A single tear worked its way down the pony’s cheek, its glassy surface reflecting all of the soul-eating despair crawling around inside her.
Oh, and then it began to rain. Another downside of being homeless: you never get a copy of the weekly weather schedule.
Book Worm stared through the window into her old home. Her beautiful old home… It was lit with gentle candlelight, and she could almost feel the warmth and comfort radiating through the glass.
It had been hers, once. But no more. No more. That fact was glaringly clear to her as she stood by, watching Twilight and Spike laugh loudly at some joke she would never hear.
A great peal of thunder boomed across the sky.
Book Worm sniffed. This unicorn… she had taken everything! It just wasn’t fair! Why did she have to be the homeless one when Twilight got to enjoy her wonderful new home… the home of Book Worm’s dreams? She had taken it from her! Stolen the most precious thing in the world to her.
Book Worm stamped her hoof into the muddy ground. It wasn’t fair! This should all be hers! All of it! What right had the unicorn to take it from her? What right did Twilight Stupid Sparkle have to destroy her life so completely and then have the nerve to sit there and laugh?!
Perhaps it was the hunger. Perhaps it was the extreme depression and clinical anxiety. Or maybe she had just been a little crazy from the beginning. Either way, before Book Worm knew it, she was slamming her hoof against the door to her old library.
And she didn’t even care if she left a mark.
It was in that moment that Book Worm truly lost herself to the dark descent.
There was an unfamiliar rattling sound of the lock being slid open, and Book Worm stopped knocking, breathing heavily. The door inched wide, leaving just a large enough gap for Twilight to peek out. “Um, can I help you?” The door opened a little wider as Twilight properly saw the mare in front of her, wet and dishevelled, her eyes bloodshot and her face a picture of suffering. “Oh! You poor thing! Is everything okay? Please! Come in and sit down! I’ll get you a rug and you can sit by the fire to warm up!”
Book Worm froze, unable to tear her eyes away from Twilight’s expression of pure and genuine concern. She really cared about her… She wanted to help her…
She wasn’t completely evil...
“I’m sorry!” Book Worm cried out, surprising everypony including herself. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to have those dark and mean thoughts about you! I didn’t really mean that I was going to burn down your library with you inside! I promise!”
“Um, what?”
But Book Worm didn’t stop. It was all so clear now, like sunlight bursting out from behind the clouds after a summer storm. She could see it all, and she wasn’t going to stop till it was all out of her system.
“I know better now! I know that it’s not your fault! It can’t be your fault! You didn’t know… you just didn’t know! And that’s okay, because we can’t always tell how our actions affect those around us, we just have to treat everyone with love and kindness and everything will turn out alright in the end! I know this now! It’s no pony’s fault I lost my home… I just have to smile and be kind and everything will be okay… Thank you, Twilight! Thank you so much for everything! I love you so much!”
Twilight looked up at Book Worm, blinked, looked at Spike (who merely shrugged his shoulders), and blinked again before turning back to Book Worm.
“I’m really sorry… but who are you?”
And that, children, was the start of Gruntilda the Wicked’s dark reign, the mare who was responsible for the Equestrian war of 1776. So, do you all know the moral of this story? That’s right. Don’t have dreams or any kind of hopes for the future. For you will be evicted from your home, go crazy, and end up leading a rebellion of gnomes.
And trust me when I say you definitely don’t want that to happen.
Woo! Mystic’s One year anniversary (to the day) of being a brony! What better way to celebrate than with a comedy so stupid it should be banned from the Ponyville Library?
Yeah. I don’t know why either.
Anyway, thank you to Sessalisk for giving this lump of words a read through, and to dacaz5 and our late night conversations for birthing this ridiculous idea in the first place. If you hate it, go blame him (if you like it, though, all praise can be left in the comments below :D)!
And finally, thanks for reading!
