The first thing that Lightning Strike became aware of as consciousness returned to her was the heavy beat of marching hooves blended with jingling chains as a counterpoint. The pegasus kept her eyes closed, pretending to be out cold for as long as possible while letting her other senses do the work of gathering information.

She was lying on a hard surface that rocked back and forth with slightly less hard spots cushioning her in places. The motion, combined with the smell of straw, told her that she was probably lying on some hay and being carried on a wagon of some sort.

Next, the fallen gladiatrix tried to open her wings slightly, only to discover that they wouldn’t move other than at her wing’s shoulders. Binders of some sort, the pony surmised, which went along with the solid bands she could feel against each of her fetlocks.

Bound and hobbled, the pegasus thought to herself. Just fucking great.

Daring greatly, Lightning Strike cracked open her eyes to see what sort of hobbles she had been fitted with. A wide band of grey metal glinted back at her from each of her front fetlocks, right where her punishment shackle used to…

The cage bolted to the prisoner cart shook, as the pegasus slammed into the bars with every bit of speed and strength she could muster, and it was until a pair of panicked breaths passed that Lightning Strike realized that the shackle removal enchantment hadn’t been triggered and that her sense of balance wasn’t about to be permanently destroyed.

“T’was a rather nasty spell that had been placed upon your binding,” Princess Luna began conversationally, walking alongside the prisoner cart as the Royal Guard made its way back to Canterlot.

“You could have warned a pony,” Lightning Strike shot back, as she settled back into the hay lining the floor of her cage with a light tinkle of the chains binding her hooves.

“Thou wert asleep,” the lunar alicorn replied, with just a hint of smugness before casting a critical eye of the body of the pegasus. “We endeavored to see to such wounds as you had while you lay unconscious. Did we miss any?”

“Other than the chains, I’m just peachy,” the pegasus replied, loading up a full clip of snark. The Equestrians might have caged her, and Lightning Strike could tell that her pegasus magic was blocked as well, but that wouldn’t stop her from tapping the power of (*&^%^% and busting out.

Lightning Strike froze at the burst of static in her head.

“All I need to do,” she said aloud, “is tap the power of &*%^$ and I’m…”

The pegasus’ eyes went wide at the gibberish that had come out of her mouth.

“Thou possesses a power like that of few others,” Luna said, in a voice not without compassion. “Fortunately, my sister and I have a method of restraining it.”

The alicorn lifted a hoof mirror in her magic, keeping it outside the bars so that it wasn’t affected by the anti-magic field of the cage, but still in line with Lightning’s field of vision, and if anything the gladiator’s eyes went even wider at what she saw in the reflective surface.

She’d been bridled.

To be fair, it was a very nice piece, made of silver stitched black leather, and set with moonstones and pieces of jet at the joins. There was also not a single buckle or any apparent way to remove the headpiece and try as she might, Lightning Strike couldn’t seem to touch the thing, despite her best attempts.

“It won’t hurt you at all,” said a new voice, and Lightning Strike looked up to see Princess Celestia looking in. “But as long as you’re wearing Luna’s bridle you won’t even be able to think about the power of @!#%^, never mind actually using it.”

“As you say, Mistress,” the pony in chains said, barely contained fury in her voice as she bowed to her owner. Lightning Strike had learned the hard way new owners usually wanted to enforce their authority over a newly acquired possession.

“Mistress?” Celestia queried, frowning at the unasked and unwanted obeisance.

“Don’t you remember the terms of our fight?” Lightning Strike asked, keeping her eyes on the chain connecting her front hooves so that Celestia wouldn’t see the fury in her eyes. “You own me.”

“No, I don’t,” Celestia instantly replied, her face wrinkling with disgust at the concept. “You might be a prisoner of the Crown, but you are your own mare.”

“Liar,” Lightning Strike responded evenly. The thing on her head made it hard to think about it and the ability it blocked. “I’m hobbled, caged and bound. Either by your command or by you directly, after a fight where the loser became property of the owner. If I’m not your slave, then free me and let me go.”

“You are a prisoner being taken to Canterlot for trial,” Celestia stated, ignoring Lightning’s demand. “Fourteen counts of murder, along with twenty counts of assault with intent.”

“Murder?” Lightning yelled back, and this time not even her years of conditioning as a slave gladiator could hold her anger in check. “They were facing me, they were armed, and they were the ones attacking me and mine. How the fuck is stopping that murder? And then for defending myself, I get locked in a cage and fitted with fetish gear.”

“Luna and I wore those longer than you’ve been alive,” Celestia replied, her eyes looking off somewhere in the distance. “Roam knew how to contain ponies like us, and seeing as my old bridle was too big for you to wear, we put Luna’s on you. As for the charges against you, the nobles have put forth the case that you’re an illegal combatant and that there is no formal state of war between Cartage and Equestria.”

“Wait, you were Roaman slaves?” Lightning demanded, curious in spite of herself. “I thought you must have been with Roam, seeing as you went after Cartage and all.”

“Raise up the ponies you have conquered, and throw down the proud who resist,” Celestia replied quietly, and Lighting Strike knew a quote when she heard one. “Luna and I were very proud in those days, and Roam threw us down just as hard. Their Emperor, Calegula, had a power similar to ours, and for eighty years we wore those things while we served him. Horn and hoof, wing and tail.”

“Holy shit,” breathed the pegasus. If this thing could hold an alicorn for that long, she was screwed.

“Don’t worry,” Celestia said, shaking herself and going back to that serene demeanor she’d had up until a minute ago. “I’ll make sure your sentence is commuted to castle service for a few years, instead of eighty or so.”

“Well, I’d sorta be dead by then,” the pegasus snorted, shifting her hips as she tried to gain a little slack from the very close fitting hobbles on her rear legs.

“No, you wouldn’t be dead,” Celestia replied, frowning slightly. “Why would you be dead?”

“Uh, old age,” Lightning Strike replied, giving up and letting her hindquarters flop onto the floor of the cart. “Ponies don’t live much longer than eighty years.”

“You will,” Luna simply replied, and Lightning Strike fell onto her side, overbalancing as she whipped her head around.

“What?” the pony demanded, after pushing her forequarters back up. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You didn’t know?” Celestia asked, chuckling a bit as she leaned close and whispered. “Ponies with the powers of @#$%^ are ageless.”

Lightning Strike felt like she’d been whacked by Celestia’s halberd all over again.

“Seriously, you didn’t know or figured it out on your own?” Celestia asked, drawing a silent shake of the head from the imprisoned pony.

“It does not mean we are deathless, Lady Strike,” Luna commented, from the other side of the cage. “We can still be killed, but it must be something which slays instantly. Give one of our strength even a breath to recover and the power of @#$%^ will sustain our life and return us to full health, given enough time.”

“That… '' Lightning began, breathing speeding up as she remembered that horrible moment in the arena when the last of her hooves had been removed from her body by King Cockrel. “That makes a lot of sense.”

“So, give things time to calm down,” Celestia advised, nodding sagely. “Yes, you’re going to be wearing those chains and that bridle for a few years, but it won’t be forever and hopefully in that time we can have a few chats and come to an understanding, if not a friendship.”

“Can you at least give me a little slack in the rear hooves?” Lightning Strike asked, still trying to absorb what she’d heard. Her entire life up till now had been focused on making it to tomorrow, never mind the tomorrow after that. To find out she had a possibly infinite amount of tomorrows in her future made for a very long pause for thought.

“Maybe after the trial,” Celestia replied thoughtfully, after nearly a full minute had passed. “All other considerations aside, you are quite the fighter and until I’m sure you won’t be a danger to my ponies, you will remain hobbled.”

“Look, you beat me fair and square, okay,” Lightning slung back, brain reloaded with a full clip of snark. “You don’t have to rub it in by parading me around like a piece of meat on a leash.”

“Our next rest stop is in Ponyville,” Celestia said, running an eye up and down the column of troops. “We can let you out for a bit, give you a chance to stretch your legs, and adjust your hobbles there.”

“But the chains stay on,” growled Lightning Strike, getting fully to her hooves. To her annoyance, the forced closeness of her rear hooves made her stance extremely wobbly, and with her wings in binders as well, it didn’t take the motion of the cart more than a second or two to send her falling against the bars on one side.

Lightning Strike didn’t miss the slight upturn in the corner of Celestia’s mouth.

“Not enough to put me in chains, in a cage, wing binders and a gods-damned bridle,” snarled the pegasus. “You had to make sure to humiliate me as well. Fuck you, Mistress.”

“I told you. I don’t own ponies,” Celestia serenely replied back. “You are a prisoner on her way to trial.”

“A trial with the sentence and verdict already decided by you,” Lightning Strike spat back, bracing herself against the bars and refusing to allow gravity to have its way with her. “A sentence which just so happens to have me bound, bridled and under your control for years to come. Tell me again how that isn’t owning a pony?”

“Luna, we didn’t happen to bring a muzzle with us, did we?” Celestia asked brightly, her tone of voice at odds with the tension in her eyes and the flattening of one ear. “You know, to control any vicious animals we might come across?”

“Try it, and I’ll rip your throat out with my bare teeth,” the gladiatrix threatened right back.

“Clearly, you don’t understand what a muzzle is used for,” explained Celestia, in a voice that had gone as cold as her fire was hot.

“Sister… ‘Tia,” interjected Luna, her face a mix of annoyance and concern. “It is unlike you to be so vindictive toward another, no matter the provocation.”

“She killed our ponies,” Celestia responded, with a hint of a growl in her voice. “She deserves those chains.”

“I did not say she had not earned her bonds,” Luna replied, keeping her voice even and refusing to match anger to anger. “I am saying that you are being vindictive. Lady Lightning Strike is defeated and in your power. How does inflicting humiliation on a defeated enemy make you the better pony?”

“I… “ Celestia paused, before huffing out a breath and turning back to Lightning Strike. “I’m sorry. I can’t adjust your hobbles while we’re moving, but as soon as we get to Ponyville I’ll loosen them all the way. If you give me your word not to try to escape.”

“Uh… okay,” Lightning Strike replied, taken aback by the sudden change by her captor. “I’ll go one better. Let me walk, under guard, from this Ponyville place and I won’t even think about trying to run. You can keep the wing binders and the… headgear on me. I’d just really enjoy being under an open sky again is all.”

“I’ll think about it,” was all Celestia would say, before moving back up to the front of the column.

Three hours later, the battered Royal Guard detachment reached Ponyville, whose citizens descended on them en masse with food, drink, and medical assistance for the wounded. Several townsponies offered space in their homes for those whose injuries would only be exacerbated by further travel.

“Princess, what happened?” demanded a small lavender alicorn, right as Celestia lifted Lightning Strike from the prisoner cart with her aura of yellow magic.

“We were overconfident and our troops were almost no match for a group of trained, professional fighters,” Celestia explained, and Lightning Strike couldn’t keep a small smile of pride off her face. “Twilight, I’d like you to meet Lightning Strike, a Cartegenian pony who killed several of our ponies in cold blood.”

“Hot blood,” the pegasus corrected, as her hooves touched solid ground again. “Cold blooded is when you plan everything. It was in battle, and I was only doing what I was told to do.”

“Is that true?” Twilight gasped, stepping back a bit, particularly when Celestia removed Lightning Strike’s hobbles entirely.

“I may still be more than a little angry at the pony who killed or injured thirty-four members of the Royal Guard,” Celestia admitted, shaking her head ruefully. “But, she is right in that we were the aggressors, and as a slave gladiator she had no choice but to follow the commands given her.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Twilight admitted, coming a little closer.

“I’m property,” Lightning Strike stated blandly. “Currently the property of your Princess. Seeing as she won me in single combat.”

“I told you, I don’t own ponies,” Celestia replied, making sure Lightning’s wing binders were still secure.

“And yet here I stand, wearing your chains and your sister’s… bridle,” Lightning Strike tossed back, pausing for the extra effort it took to think about her headgear.

“That’s a really powerful artifact,” Twilight commented, horn glowing as she cast a spell to examine the ancient piece of tack. “What does it do?”

“A thought occurs, Sister,” Luna stated, coming from around the far side of the cart and interrupting the conversation. “@#%% has never been truly studied, not even by Starswirl the Bearded, and your former student is not only perhaps the greatest arcane scholar of this age, but the Element of Magic as well. This could be a significant chance to learn a great deal about this power.”

Lightning Strike tried not to giggle as the newest alicorn shifted between preening pride and bashful embarrassment, before curiosity won out.

“Uh, what power?” Twilight asked.

“Lady Lightning Strike possesses a type of magic that only a rare few can access,” Luna explained. “It is a power unknown to you, and one that she is currently prevented from using by the bridle currently bound to her.”

“I’d love to learn about it!” Twilight exclaimed, taking on a predator’s demeanor and stalking toward Lightning Strike, who backed away until her retreat carried her into Luna’s chest.

“What say you, Sister?” Luna asked, placing a wing between Twilight and her prey. “Shall we leave Lightning Strike here? It would give you time to center yourself again, appease the nobles, and gain valuable information about the power of (*&%^&.”

Lightning Strike was really getting tired of the static in her head every time somepony said the name of her ability.

“IF this is going to happen, I’ll need your word Lightning Strike, that you will confine yourself to Ponyville and Twilight’s castle, respectively,” Celestia declared, looking the pegasus in the eyes. “Not just your agreement to, but your absolute word, on pain of death, that you won’t try to leave without my permission.”

Sheltering under Luna’s wing, the gladiatrix gave the idea a few moments thought. Captivity, likely followed by a dungeon cell, a show trial and then a literal lifetime of being chained to a washtub versus at least some time out of doors to brace herself before inevitably becoming the princess’ plaything.

“I swear to abide by your conditions,” Lightning Strike declared, holding one hoof over her breast. “By my beating heart and wings, I swear it.”

“Very well then,” Celestia replied, and Lightning Strike wasn’t surprised at all to feel her headgear tighten and then loosen in obvious response to some sort of spell. “I’m sure Twilight has a spare room in her castle you can use, and I’ll make sure she has some bits in case you need to buy a few things.”

“Buy?” Lightning Strike asked, confused. She was either given what her owner chose to give her or did without. Being able to choose for herself was an entirely foreign concept to her.

“Indeed,” Celestia said, closing the door of the now empty prisoner cart. “Oh, and you also have the right to refuse any physical examinations Twilight asks of you, but you will answer any questions she asks of you though.”

“Yes Mistress,” Lightning Strike replied absently, her earlier confusion compounded by the fact that she was being allowed to refuse being touched. She was used to fighting hoof and tooth to avoid being marehandled, but to be able to just say “no” and have it stick? It almost defied belief.

“Twilight, Lightning Strike is in your hooves,” Celestia stated, before adding in a cautionary tone. “She is a dangerous mare capable of great violence, but Luna has made me realize that she has been reacting to events in the only ways she knows how. Perhaps you and your friends can show her another way.”

“We’ll do our best!” Twilight declared, flaring her wings as Luna shoved Lightning Strike forward.

“I shall be most wroth with thee if you should render any harm to my friend,” Luna whispered, just before stepping back to join her sister.

“Harm her?” Lightning Strike asked. If anything it was the little alicorn who was going to be doing the hurting as she poked and prodded the pegasus.

“Let’s get you to my castle,” Twilight said, extending a hoof across her body to indicate a large crystalline structure in the near distance, once the mobile members of the Royal Guard detachment had departed.

“Yes Ma’am,” Lightning Strike began, using the form of address to a free mare. Until she knew where she stood in the pecking order of things, it was best—

“WELCOME TO FREEEEEEDOM!” yelled a startlingly pink earth pony from point-blank range, completely shattering Lightning Strike’s composure and sending her crashing into her alicorn escort from sheer reaction.

“Pinkie!” Twilight chided, unwrapping herself from the pegasus warrior. “You can’t go around scaring new ponies like that.”

“I could have killed you!” Lightning Strike added hotly. She was pretty sure that her… bridle would crush her head if she tried to leave the area. What it would have done to her if she’d lashed out instead of diving away scarcely bore thinking about.

“Okie Dokie Loki, but my Pinkie Sense told me that there was a new pony in town who was long, long, long, long, long overdue for a party!” the pink daemon replied, pulling out a truly impressive looking key shaped pink cake, decorated with ribbons and flowers made from white frosting. “Good thing I always have an emergency Freedom Cake handy for freedom emergencies just like this.”

The pony held the pastry out to Lightning Strike, who wasn’t really sure how to react to the offer.

“OH, you must want to share the cake!” Pinkie decided, and pulling out a truly monumental carving knife from seemingly nowhere, carved the cake into dozens of square pieces with only a pair of slashes. The pieces landed on a table that appeared out of nowhere just in time to intercept them before they could hit the ground.

The pieces smelled sweet, almost sickeningly so, and Lightning Strike looked over to see Twilight nodding encouragingly to her. Gingerly, the pegasus lifted up one piece and carefully nibbled on the pastry, her eyes going wide as the flavours of lemons and oranges exploded on her tongue. Crystallized sugars fizzed and popped in her mouth, blazing trails through the creamy expanse of buttercream frosting that coated the top of the piece.

In less time than it took to blink, Lightning Strike had inhaled the piece of cake.

“That was… that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever tasted,” the gladiatrix said, burping slightly as the dense food hit her nearly empty stomach.

Stars filled Pinkie Pie’s eyes, and the smile that came to her muzzle rivaled the sun for brightness.

“Have some more!” Pinkie enthused. “There’s enough for everypony!”

A second piece of cake found its way into Lightning Strike’s mouth and though this one was a blend of orange and chocolate, as opposed to the lemon and orange of the previous piece, the flavours were no less wonderful or enjoyable, and it was to the cheering of a gathered crowd that the gladiator wiped away bits of frosting from the corners of her mouth.

“That was—” Lightning Strike paused in the praise that she was about to give as her stomach gave a pronounced, and angry, gurgle. “Ugh, I don’t feel so—”

The rejection of the slices of cake by Lightning Strike’s body was both loud and voluminous, to the absolute horror of everypony around.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” Pinkie cried out. “It can’t be the Baked Bads again!”

Lightning Strike was barely cognizant of Pinkie’s words as yet another upheaval wracked her body, leaving her on her side and shaking as spasms wracked her body.

“P-poison?” asked the stricken pony, as she curled into a fetal position.

“Pinkie, what was in that cake?” Twilight demanded, horrified at the sudden change in her charge. If Lightning Strike died, Celestia would kill her, or worse!

“Just the usual,” Pinkie replied, wringing her hooves in despair. “Flour, sugar, eggs, lard, marzipan, crystal berries and a few other things.”

Another terrible retching sound filled the air.

“Somepony go get Nurse Redheart!” Twilight ordered, before turning to gather up Lightning Strike in her magic. “What have you eaten recently?”

“S-some porridge, couple of fish,” the pegasus moaned, holding her stomach. “Usual rations.”

“The usual stuff,” Twilight repeated, taking a few moments to examine Lightning Strike’s legs and body, deep in thought. Something about the leanness of the body under her hooves gave the alicorn the answer..

“Refeeding Syndrome!” Twilight exclaimed. “Good news! It’s not poison.”

“So,why does it feel like it?” Lightning Strike groaned, barely able to control her limbs due to the shakiness of her body.

“You’ve been living on nothing but carbohydrates and protein for so long your body has no idea what to do with anything more than a trace amount of fats or sugars,” Twilight explained. “It’s gone into shock trying to metabolize something it doesn’t have the ability to deal with anymore, so cake is almost like poison to you, as well as anything with a lot of fats and sugars.”

“No CAKE?! No Sugar?!” exclaimed a distraught Pinkie. “Is a life without cake even worth living?”

Lightning Strike feebly batted at the whiny pony. She’d show her a life without cake.

“Pinkie, focus,” Twilight ordered, taking her friend’s head between her hooves. “I need you to meet Redheart on the way here. Tell her to meet me at my castle with metabolizers and electrolytes.”

“O—” another series of dry heaves interrupted the evil pink one’s reply, but not Twilight’s.

“On the plus side, we aren’t going to need an emetic,” sighed the Princess, heading off to her castle with her very unhappy companion.

Author's Note

No afterward today. Yoinked a back muscle and relaxants are making me a tad loopy.