Dusk Shine had his nose buried in a book, as per usual. Most ponies in the library merely needed cushions to sit on, but this purple unicorn needed a stool. This wasn’t unusual, given that he was a stallion. And because he was a stallion, despite being the same age as most of the ponies in Canterlot’s Royal Library, Dusk stood roughly at the same height as most of his quadrupedal peers’ shoulders, putting him slightly below average for one his age. For some of the taller ponies, he only had to duck his head a little to walk beneath them without notice.

However, there were a couple unusual things about Dusk that caught ponies’ eyes. The first wasn’t merely that he was a stallion, but a stallion in such a prestigious institution. While he’d long ago learned to tune out most gossip, his flicking ears occasionally picked up ponies questioning why a male was here. He clearly had a cutie mark, marking him as an adult, so he likely wasn’t a foal waiting for anyone to pick him up. Ponies unfamiliar with him openly wondered why he wasn’t at home, taking care of the household chores and, most importantly, attending to his mares. The more brazen among them questioned what the colt-looking stallion’s butt tasted like and how big his penis might be. Luckily, ponies that gossiped too loudly were promptly silenced by the second unusual thing about the purple pony.

Barb was a slightly lighter shade of purple than Dusk’s fur, with green spines along her scaly back and a soft green underbelly. Being a female, she naturally stood taller than the average male, except she stood out more for being nearly twice as tall as most mares when on all fours, and even taller if she reared up on her back legs. Sporting such an intimidating height with a bulk to match, she wasn’t afraid of using the ignorance of others to her advantage by facing anyone whose words annoyed her and curling her lip up in a soft snarl. That either shut ponies up or sent them outright running in fear, much to her amusement.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Dusk chided, never tearing his nose from the book that so engrossed his attention.

“Do what? It’s called a smile, bookworm,” Barb shot back, her tail curling protectively around the little stallion’s stool. “Ya know, it’s that thing you do when you find a book that you haven’t reread six times already.”

“You’re scaring them,” Dusk rebuked.

Barb’s draconic expression scrunched in a scowl. “Since when do you care what losers like them think?”

“I don’t, but it gets annoying when I say hi to someone, only for them to run away when they see you.” Another unusual, but less obvious detail about Dusk was how he used non-species-specific pronouns. He said it wasn’t for Barb’s sake, but merely a disagreement with language vernacular being needlessly specific. However, few believed him, especially not the young drake. “That makes it super hard to negotiate for the stuff I need.”

Barb rolled her eyes and chuckled as a clawed hand gently patted Dusk’s back. Their size difference was painfully apparent, as the drake’s talons could effortlessly scoop up the little pony and carry him off to who-knows-where whenever she liked, which had been necessary on a few occasions. “Of course, ever the pragmatic one,” she sighed, somewhat disappointed. Dusk was an oddball. Even among stallions who aspired to be more than mere house-husbands, he had numerous idiosyncrasies that put most ponies off, leading to few relationships that could be called positive, let alone friendships. It worried Barb that the precious creature she so valued might never connect with other ponies.

“Hmm, the Elements of Harmony?” Dusk pondered aloud, finally looking up as he scratched his chin. “Where have I heard that before?”

Seeing a look of determination don on her master’s face, Barb closed the comic she’d been reading and stood on all fours, ready to run. Sure enough, the moment Dusk closed the book with his magic, the little stallion took off with a gallop, his drake familiar in hot pursuit. Barb’s legs were longer, and she had no issue keeping pace, so she ran a little ahead as a deterrent for any pedestrians to clear the path. There were advantages to being the biggest, baddest babe on castle grounds, second only to the one who wore a crown. However, there were yet those bold enough to stand against the miniature stampede, forcing the pair to skid to a halt.

“There you are, Dusk,” greeted Precision Pen with an almost convincingly warm grin. Her mane was shades of black and gray, her fur was silver, and her cutie mark was an inkwell pen. She was flanked by her three flunkies, whose names Dusk couldn’t remember, but their smiles were far more strained as they kept wary eyes on Barb. “I just wanted to double-check and make sure you were coming to my party this afternoon.”

Dusk blinked up at the mare as his ears folded back before his eyes fell to the ground. “I-I never said I w-was c-coming.” He flinched when Precision’s squad snickered.

“Well, I had assumed you would. After all, it’s not like you had any other plans,” Precision countered, head held high with the confidence befitting her family lineage.

“I-I had plans,” Dusk stammered. “B-but that’s ch-changed. I-I have to—”

“Reading by yourself is hardly what most ponies would call a plan, little one,” Precision said with maximum condescension. “Just look at you, shivering like a homeless peasant in winter. You’d be so much more confident if you had a few strapping mares to take care of you, you know.”

“I-I can t-take care of m-myself.”

Precision snorted a laugh. “A stallion by himself? Such silly ideas you have, little one.”

“I take care of him,” Barb intoned, her voice deepening to dangerous levels as her head fell to just above a pouncing posture.

Precision’s nose wrinkled as though detecting an offensive smell, never sparing a glance at Barb. “My point, exactly, little Dusk. You can’t even properly train your familiar, so how can you expect to look after yourself?”

“I heard he’s still a virgin,” said the red mare to Precision’s left.

The blue mare on Precision’s right added, “I wouldn’t believe it if it were anypony but Dusk. He’s such a cutie; it’s all I can do to hold myself ba—” She suddenly stopped herself when she noticed Barb’s razor gaze trying to set the hapless pony on fire with her mind.

“Which just further proves that you need mares in your life to look after and protect you,” Precision continued, not noticing that she had one less flunky to back her up. “No pony would proposition you or try to feel you up if they knew you’d already been claimed, especially by a pony of such high standing as myself.” She put a hoof to her chest like she was giving a speech after winning an award.

Dusk muttered something almost inaudible, with only his resentful tone being clear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Precision inquired, her patience slipping.

“I said, ‘If you were so great, how come you don’t have one of these?’” Dusk reached into his saddle bags and extracted a golden badge that shined with magical light, though he kept his eyes down the entire time.

Precision’s eye twitched, yet her smile held. “Yes, it’s true; you have some impressive magical potency for coming from such a minor house. However, wouldn’t it be better if, instead of wasting time with dusty old books, you applied that aptitude to something important?” She turned her body sideways and wiggled her rump in what was meant to be an enticing manner. “For example, servicing your mares as stallions are meant to. It’s not like you’re good for anything else.”

Unable to take it anymore at seeing Dusk’s eyes water, Barb reared on her hind legs and mightily loomed at her full height, casting an all-encompassing shadow on the three mares. She then fell forward, colliding thunderously with the ground as her head snapped forward like a striking snake, and unleashed a devastating roar that blasted back the mares’ manes. This roar lasted for several terrifying seconds before Barb snapped her jaw shut to behold two dead-eyed, comatose mares where a pair of bitches used to be. The third spot was filled with open air as the last one fled, leaving a trail of urine in her way.

Barb snorted in satisfaction at her work before craning her long neck to face Dusk as her tail curled around him in a protective wall. “You okay?”

Dusk sniffled a second before wiping his eyes. They were still a little puffy, but he’d always been quick to recover from moments like these. So, now that the strangers were effectively absent, the little stallion forced himself to stand tall before his drake, slipped the badge back in his bags, and said, “W-we have work to do.” And he marched forward, slowly, to not leave the drake behind.

Of course, Barb was quick to follow, knowing that he needed her to finish his recovery. Although she accidentally knocked over the unconscious yet still-standing mares, to which Dusk gave no comment. Eventually, they arrived at the old observatory that had been converted into Dusk’s private room, a privilege shared by no other student. There were also advantages to being the queen’s favorite.

Dusk quickly began sifting through the walls of shelves in search of his target, with Barb only learning what that was from listening to the colt-looking stallion’s mutterings. Dusk muttered more things about Nightmare Moon, which Barb dismissed as an old fairytale, but the purple stallion remained determined. He was convinced that this legendary monster’s return was imminent, and demanded that Barb take a letter. The drake wore saddlebags loaded with parchment and quills for precisely these occasions, after all. Dusk dictated the letter, which Barb sent directly to the queen through her green dragon fire. However, the wind was knocked from the little pony’s sails almost immediately upon reading the unusually prompt response.

***

Later, Dusk was in maximum sulk mode as he and Barb rode in a pegasus-driven chariot out of Canterlot.

“My dearest Dusk, there is more to a young pony’s life than studying. So, I’m sending you to supervise the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration in this year’s location, Ponyville. And I have an even more critical task for you to complete. Make some friends,” Barb read for the third time, trying to coax Dusk out of his funk. “She’s right, you know. As the Royal Protégé, she was due to send you on another errand like this eventually.”

“Ugh, there’s no time for errands when I’m right, and Nightmare Moon’s return is imminent!” Dusk whined as the chariot descended through the clouds and the small town of thatched rooves neared.

“Well, at least you’ll be staying in a library,” Barb pointed out.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll check on the preparations as fast as I can, and then resume my research to prove to Celestia that I’m right and Nightmare Moon is returning.”

“And?” Barb added, waving her clawed hand leadingly.

“I’ll do my duty with the preparations, but the fate of Equestria does not depend on me making friends,” Dusk whined, only to catch his drake quirking an eyebrow at him. “What’s that look for?”

“You just jinxed it. You realize that, right?”

Dusk’s eye twitched. “Bookworm’s Theory of Improbability was never proven with concrete evidence, only coincidences that were highly circumstantial.”

“Yeah, but weren’t most of those with ponies on important magical quests?” Barb reminded as she helped Dusk out of the carriage before tipping the flyers as they departed. Ponies of all sorts milled about with their miscellaneous errands, predominantly mares, as per usual, with many sporting large, pregnant-looking bellies. As expected, most paused to at least side-eye the dragon the size of a small food cart and her pony companion. “Ya know, quests like stopping the return of an ancient evil?”

“Ugh, you are insufferable when you get like this,” Dusk whined as he trotted beside Barb, craning his neck to look up at her triangular face.

“What? So convinced that I’m right that I won’t listen to anyone else? Man, it must suck for anyone who has to deal with that,” Barb retorted with a wry grin. “Then again, maybe you’re just too scared to face the one challenge you’ve never overcome. Social activity~” she said in a wobbly, spooky tone. “This isn’t Canterlot, so you ought to at least give these new ponies a shot.”

“Oh, fine! If it’ll shut you up, I’ll try.” Dusk then saw a pony heading in their general direction. She had a curly mane and tail that, when combined with her fur, radiated with almost blinding pink energy. Determined to prove his point, Dusk swallowed his anxiety, puffed out his chest in a show of boldness, and extended his hoof. “H-h-helll-o m-m-misss,” he stammered.

“Smooth,” Barb muttered.

Gasping so hard that she sucked in enough air to attain lift, the pink mare stared in horror at the pair before suddenly zipping off to parts unseen with sufficient speed to knock Dusk off his hooves and into his drake’s claws.

Dusk could practically see the gears grinding in Barb’s brain as she guiltily averted her gaze. No doubt, she blamed herself for intimidating this stranger, even if unintentionally. Sure, they’d both written off most ponies in Canterlot as being jerks, but the young drake clearly hated the idea of isolating the purple pony. So, after righting himself, Dusk summoned the authoritative dignity befitting his birthright and said, “Stupid country bumpkins. They see a grown stallion outside the house, and they freak the buck out.” Huffing, he marched ahead a few steps before stopping to face Barb. “Well, are you coming?”

Grinning, Barb nodded and followed, her leg ‘accidentally’ nudging Dusk almost enough to be suspicious. The drake then read from the letter directing them to start with the mayor’s office. The building was easy enough to find, and, as expected, a stallion and a drake waiting in the lobby were an eye-catching sight, to say nothing of when Dusk flashed his golden badge. At least they didn’t have to wait long to enter the mayor’s office.

“Greetings, uh… S-Sir Royal Protégé?” the pony behind the desk questioningly greeted. She had tan fur with a white and gray mane that made her look older than she was. The label on the desk read Mayor Mare, and she took a second glance at the badge to confirm its authenticity before glancing at the parties wielding it. Adjusting her glasses, she said, “I-I beg your forgiveness, Sir Royal Protégé, but when I got word that the queen was sending such an important pony to inspect our town, I was expecting a… you know…”

“A mare,” Dusk flatly finished, his social awkwardness consumed by protocol and duty. “And you can just call me Dusk. It’s less of a mouthful.”

“I… yes, Sir Dusk,” Mayor Mare replied, hoping she didn’t look as awkward as she felt and forcing herself to not look at the drake. “So, uh, y-you’re here by yourself?”

Barb cleared her throat, reminding all that a creature larger than most furniture was in the room.

“I-I mean, you know, n-no escort?” Mayor Mare asked, sweating bullets as she stressed to find the right words to avoid causing any more offense.

“I don’t need a mare to walk around and hold my hoof all day,” Dusk huffed. “I’m a grown-assed stallion, an adult, and Barbara, my bodyguard, is the only help I need. However, have you made arrangements for where I’ll be staying during my… stay?”

“Y-yes. We got word only an hour ago, but we’re still setting up the Ponyville library for you. We call it the treebrary,” the mayor laughed weakly. “Here are the directions, and everything should be ready in another hour or so.”

Dusk nodded. “Good. Now, give me the lists of ponies and locations of interest,” Dusk demanded, holding out his hoof.

Glad for a way out of this conversation, the mayor handed over the relevant documentation and wished the pair well before making an excuse to be anywhere else.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Barb said as they headed down the dirt road to their first destination.

“It could have also gone worse,” Dusk countered. “At least she didn’t talk down to me or point at her belly. I hate that.”

“You don’t hate it when your moms or I do it,” Barb reminded, nosing Dusk’s side.

“That’s different. You guys don’t talk down to me like I’m somehow broken just because I like stretching my legs outside, or that I’m not married yet.”

“Well, maybe this next place can be a chance to fix the second one,” Barb suggested as they arrived at the gate to Sweet Apple Acres. “The list says this place is handling food. It couldn’t hurt to find a mare who can cook.”

Dusk sighed and hung his head. “Let’s just get this over with.” Entering the property, the red barn in the distance was almost entirely eclipsed by the fields of apple trees. Most had been stripped bare of any fruit, but the closer they got to the farmhouse, the more apples they found. Finally, hearing a disturbance, Dusk spied a pony. She was an orange earth mare in a Stetson hat with three apples for cutie marks. She ran right up to a tree, bucked it with her back legs, and sent every last apple tumbling into the wooden buckets below. As she did, Dusk found himself studying the contours of her body. This mare had remarkable muscle definition, especially around her backside, and the way she delivered each kick without damaging the trees showed an even more impressive level of control.

It was Barb’s turn to use her years of learning Dusk’s mannerisms to look into her compatriot’s mind. Although, that was hardly necessary, as the male’s involuntary physical response to watching the mare work was enough for her to guess what was on his mind and smirk. “She’s cute.”

“Sh-shut up,” Dusk grumbled. Stepping away from Barb and toward the farmer, he got into his authoritative headspace, held out his badge, and said, “Greetings, miss. My name is Dusk Shine, and—”

“Well, howdy do, li’l fella,” the mare warmly said while shaking the smaller pony’s hoof with a level of strength Dusk wasn’t used to, not noticing how Barb’s spines bristled and her eyes narrowed into slits. “Mah name’s Apple Jack, ‘n it’s a pleasure ta make yer acquaintance. We here at Sweet Apple Acres sure do love makin’ new friends, especially li’l cuties like you.”

“F-friends?” Dusk questioned, his authoritative mask faltering as Barb assumed a more relaxed stance.

“Absolutely.” Apple Jack stepped back, her smile faltering when she noticed Barb, and whistled. “Boy, howdy, Ah bet you’ve got an appetite.”

Barb blinked. For as much as she lectured Dusk about needing to socialize, she was unaccustomed to being addressed so directly by a stranger. “Uh, sure, I guess.”

Dusk cleared his throat. “Ahem. Excuse me, but I’m on royal business,” he said while presenting his badge. “Specifically, I’m here to inspect the food for the Summer Sun Celebration.”

Apple Jack whistled again. “That’s an impressive lookin’ badge.”

Dusk braced himself for the mare to say ‘for a stallion,’ but it didn’t come.

“Ah assume ya’ll wanna sample the food.”

“Uh, sure, that’d be great,” Dusk agreed, noting his lack of stutter. Also, his hoof had an unusual, somewhat earthy stink on it. He assumed it was the earth mare’s sweat and, much to his confusion, sniffed a second time with greater force. He then realized both Barb and Apple Jack watched him do so and blushed, forcing himself to not run behind the drake to hide.

Suddenly, Apple Jack ran to a nearby assembly of benches and rang a triangle. “Soup’s on, everypony!” she called, her summons bringing forth a small army of apple-flanked ponies. They then grabbed the purple pony and drake, plopping them on a recently set picnic table before filling it with a small mountain of food, Apple Jack announcing their names as they did.

While Dusk missed most of the names, what caught his attention was the number of males out in the open, almost all of whom were taller than him. Granted, just about every stallion wore a collar with his wives’ cutie marks, but even the colts were allowed out in the open. And even if they didn’t stray too far from the mares and fillies, the sight still struck Dusk as remarkably forward-thinking. However, even seeing so many enlightened ponies wasn’t enough to quell the purple stallion’s growing nerves from having so many strangers smiling at him.

“W-well, it, uh, l-looks like you have everything handled here,” Dusk said, stepping away from the table. “B-but I really m-must be going. Barb and I—Barb! What the buck!?” Dusk snapped upon seeing his drake companion’s head buried in the pile of apple-themed foods, ravenously devouring everything in her long neck’s reach. She looked up and smiled apologetically, sharp teeth riddled with mutilated pastries.

“Hoo-wee! Ah like a gal with a big appetite!” Apple Jack cheered. “What about you, li’l guy? If ya take care ‘f yerself, ya’ll might grow up big ‘n strong like mah big brother, Big Macintosh.” She gestured at a red stallion with his orange mane and tail cut short. He was only a few inches shorter than Apple Jack, a remarkable size for a stallion, to say nothing of his earth pony bulk. Similar to Dusk’s eldest brother, this guy almost looked like a genuine adult, instead of a colt with a cutie mark. The resemblance to the much taller Apple Jack was uncanny, but not as much as the guy’s lack of a collar.

Dusk stared in awe, needing a second to process how another stallion his brother’s age had gone unmarried. Then he slapped himself, sensible. “A-anyway, w-we really should be going. We’ve got—”

“Ain’t ya’ll gonna stay fer brunch?” Big Mac asked, his puppy-dog eyes shimmering as his lips puffed in an adorable pout. It was a cheap trick that males of any age liked to employ to manipulate others.

Dusk always found this act degrading, as it played into the stereotype of all stallions being nothing but taller foals in need of coddling. However, for as much as he hated it, between the red stallion’s adorable performance, everyone else’s disappointment upon hearing him wanting to go, the food’s enticingly sweet-smelling aroma, and the orange mare’s come-hither eyes, the purple unicorn’s resolve faltered. “Well, m-maybe j-just a bite.”

The Apple family cheered, and the guests from Canterlot ate.

Author's Note

Thus ends the first part. I decided to throw AJ’s introduction on top of the Canterlot portion because it would have been too short otherwise, but I think it works. I’m spoon-feeding the world-building regarding how the rules for this reverse gender role world works, so your questions will hopefully be answered in the next installment. Although, getting the audience curious enough to ask would certainly be a treat. Why is Dusk depicted as standard-sized when he’s coltishly small, how absurd is it that Big Mac is described as abnormally tall despite being shorter than AJ, and why is Barb so damn big? Again, most of these ought to be answered next time. The only thing I’ll clarify is yes, I turned Dusk’s introversion up to eleven to emphasize how he gets along with the local mares compared to his fellow Canterlites.

Also, I’m proud of how I depicted Twilight and Spike’s relationship in MLO, and I’d like to recapture that. So, let me know if I succeeded, or if you have any other thoughts on anything else.

Further, this story is still new and in need of fresh ideas, so I welcome all suggestions and requests for what to do in the future. Obviously, not all will be accepted, but I'd still like to hear from my fans.

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