Author's Notes:

Based in the 'Your Human and You' universe by MadMaxtheBlack http://www.fimfiction.net/story/111738/your-human-and-you

Where the native humans are barely sentient livestock for the ponies. Humans imported from elsewhere must deal with being treated as the natives are, and if they reveal themselves, the consequences could be dire.

This story is NOT canon with Your Human and You

I Am Not Spartacus
by Dan's Comments
Based in the 'Your Human and You' universe by MadMaxtheBlack
This story is NOT canon with Your Human and You
DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc.

Introduction

The rest of the apes they call humans are going nuts. Shaking their cages and screaming. To me, that means one thing. We're getting raided by the Royal Guard. I've seen it before, something most of these apes can't claim even if they could talk.

The Royal White ponies in gold armor are chasing the handlers through the rows of cages. Arms reach out of the cages at them, food and feces are thrown with equal vigor. The guards and the handlers weather the storm and the noise. This raid is one of the better run, the guards found the escape tunnel and have a force pouring out through it while all the other exits are covered. The handlers are being rounded up. The bosses were warned, and were out with all the money when the raid came down. I could tell the guards exactly where the ringleaders went. If I cared. But I stopped caring about anything except myself a while ago. To that end, I adjust my red chest harness so it is plainly visible.

Soon, some high muckety-muck pony will pronounce all the pit-fighters 'too savage to rehabilitate' and order us all put to the sword. But some lower-ranked noncom who knows the pit-fighting circles will recognize the red harness and the placid attitude, and I'll be sold to a friend of a friend of a friend for enough money to retire on. I've watched the exact same thing happen three times before in the five years I've been in this hell hole.

Here comes the Lord High Executioner for today. He's almost pretty, and strangely he's got some blood on him, as if he'd been part of the fighting. Weird.

The pink mare with him is also strange. I'd learned since arriving that there were three breeds. Unicorns, Pegasi and Earth Ponies. Horns, wings, and neither. This one has both. I don't stare, ponies don't like getting stared at by humans, but I do glance at her a couple times as she reacts with horror at the cacophonous, hairless apes in the other cages.

"This one seems almost docile," she says as she stares at me. She reaches in a hoof to touch me.

As negligently as I can, I move out of reach against the back of the cage. The soldiers are a little too ready to stick me with their spears for me to consider any other course of action. Hey, I could talk to them. And hilarity ensues. I didn't have to see Planet of the Apes to guess what would be done to a human who could actually talk, let alone a college professor turned gladiator.

"I want this one," Pink says, like she's buying a dog.

The Lord High Executioner looks nervous, as does one of the more junior noncoms who is watching his retirement nest egg slip out of his fingers, hooves, whatever.

"There's never been an example of one of these things being resocialized after time in the pits. You know that Cadence," the Lord High Executioner says. His pleading tone, and my yawn, don't convince Pink, Cadence, to side with common thought.

Even as Pink, Cadence stares in horror at my alien dentia. My teeth are a lot sharper than the natives. I'd even killed a few with them. Pink seems more fascinated. She pulls a sheaf of papers from her saddle bags. She pages through them very quickly. "Here it is, it's him," she says excitedly. "Red harness, docile attitude, and the teeth, I knew I'd seen that report."

Crap.

"The syndicate who owned him was raided, how did he escape?" Pink asks the other guards. None of them want to mention just how much money I could be sold for, or imply that much would turn their heads. "Take him to the palace."

Wait a second! Palace? Oh crap on a stick! Wait, calm down. Palace, good place to figure out where to run to when I escape. I just desperately hope she's not a 'fancier'. Some 'high-class' types liked getting serviced by humans. I had a reputation for being totally uninterested. Unless I fought the female in the pit. Like the wrestler's kefaybe, I had an entire routine. Out of the pit I was docile, even friendly. Some of the handlers let their kids practice on me, wash, feed, clean the cage. In the pit was a whole other story. A handler who was a little too free with the whip fell into the pit when I was practicing. I killed him. Got away with it when my trainer called me out of the pit and gave me a bit of a beating which I stood still for.

Word got around, so even when I was 'traded' the handlers who liked getting a little fun tormenting the caged humans kept away from me, because I might just catch them in the pit.

It was a good act, easy to keep up, and it made for better conditions for me. I might refuse to come out of the pit, but that was the limit of my defiance. Out of the pit, I was docile and uninterested. That included the society mares who'd wave their cooches at me. They were always irritated that I wouldn't just jump them like some of the other humans would. But I was never punished for my disinterest.

"Cadence, it's too dangerous," the Lord High Executioner says.

"The guard uses humans," Cadence replies, "This one would be perfect to test if they can be made into bodyguards."

Triple crap.

"He's a dumb animal, Highness," one of the sergeants said, "You certainly wouldn't want your children near one."

"There's one child I wouldn't want him near," Cadence replied, "But I think if he did what he does to his humans to this one, even Auntie couldn't put him back together."

Oh Dear Lord, this is getting worse by the second.

"Besides, he's cute," Cadence says.

That's it, I am outta here as soon as I can manage it.

"Have him washed, groomed, and taken to my quarters," Cadence says.

The sergeant and I are equally horrified at the prospect. I hide it a lot better.

"Who in the palace would be brave enough to groom such a monster?" the sergeant gasps.

"Oh, well, I'll do it myself," Cadence says and grins.

Wait a cotton-pickin' second, 'Highness?', octuple crap. This lady is psychotic. But the spears say move, so I move. They're setting out the poisoned water, standard procedure. The water has a sedative in it, they'll shoot a dart with the lethal stuff in later. I suspect I was part of an earlier iteration, where they gave the lethal stuff in the water. Some of the humans just got enough to get very sick, instead of a lethal dose. I got to watch the female I'd become quite attached to retch her life away, then go into convulsions that resulted in a miscarriage. I got to watch my unborn daughter breathe her last and die, because a bunch of creatures who talk about 'love and tolerance' couldn't be bothered to separate the cleaning crew from the pit fighters. No, I don't hate them for it. Hate makes you sloppy, and what use would revenge have? They control this world, there are no places to hide, and no way to really escape them. Maybe at a 'Highness" palace I can find maps and possibly supplies that would let me escape. And stay escaped.

The guards seem very nervous as they open the cage. They are armed, outnumber me four to one, and they're the ones one step from pissing themselves. It's wonderful having a reputation.

"Come on, noponies' gonna hurt you, come on," one of the guards says.

It's the baby talk that really pisses me off. One of them behind me pokes me with his spear. I move towards the center of the cage, closer to the open door, then stop. He tries again, and I yank the spear out of his grip. I never have figured out how hooved creatures hold things.

Now that I'm armed, they are panicking. One of the smarter ones slams and locks the door. Pink and the Lord High Executioner rush back to stare in horror as I shove the planks of the cage's roof away and pull myself out of the cage, leaving the spear behind. Now above the fading noise of my drugged fellow prisoners, I walk from roof to roof towards the pit. The predictably panicky ponies prance in pursuit. I could care less. I make the trip smartly, and never give their calls a second thought. I'm a dumb animal going through a trained behavior.

Pink takes a risk, and blocks my direct route into the pit. A dozen ponies with crossbows wait to take me out if I move. But I'm not in the pit, so I just stand there and stare at her in 'confusion'.

"He's just doing what he's been trained for," she tells the armed ponies, "He's supposed to go to the pit, so he went. I wish you could understand me," she adds, "We aren't going to hurt you."

Lady, you and your people have already done enough to me that killing me would be a minor change. I keep looking confused. There's a little piece of fluff in a different uniform that is staring from Pink to me, and back in utter terror. Pink raises up on her wings and clips a leash on the fittings on my neck collar.

"Parasol, take him to the Palace," Pink says without taking her eyes off me.

Parasol, where do they get these names? But Parasol is too terrified to even move. When Pink turns to look away, I take the end of the leash, jump to the ground and walk towards Parasol. The pony stares up in horror at the trained killer staring down at her, holding his own leash. One of the guards snickers a little when Parasol backs up, I step forward to keep the distance constant.

Parasol breaks and runs, screaming, and I jog after her, with two guards running after me. She gets turned around and finds herself in a blind alley of meal bags. She turns in terror as my shadow falls on her, but I keep a short distance, the same distance I did before. She takes a step forward, I take a step back. She steps to the side, and I step in the opposite directions.

"Just take the leash," one of the guards tells Parasol.

"How? I get close, he backs up. Not that I want to get close," Parasol tells him.

"Lead him to the Palace, ma'am," the pony guard with muttonchop whiskers tells her. "He understands the leash, and that you lead, I think he's holding it because it's too short."

Parasol slips past me, and then gestures for me to follow. We make an interesting parade. Parasol leading, radiating terror, me, and three guards who aren't sure if me holding my own leash counts as having me 'leashed'.

"He's following commands, and he's wearing a leash," Muttonchops explains, "That seems to fulfill the spirit of the law."

"But he's holding the leash," the barracks room lawyer argues.

The guardspony from earlier adds in calculating tones. "You know, he could get loose, sergeant."

"I am aware of how many bits on the hoof we have. But having her Majesty displeased at you will more than make up for it. There are some people you can't run away from."

I intend to put that theory to the test.

The palace looks like something out of Disney: white marble, thin towers and all fake. The creatures remaking the castle of Ludwig the Mad are slavers, and live off the backs of extensive plantations and mines. Think Gone With the Wind or Uncle Tom's Cabin with gorillas and ponies, and you've got the picture. The guard at the servants' entrance doesn't even comment on the strange troop entering the palace. She does wrinkle her muzzle at how I smell. And frankly I agree with her. But hot baths are not readily available and getting hosed off once a week was the best I could hope for.

The servants' passages are off the beaten track, after all you don't want the infrastructure on display for everyone to see. Parasol dashes forward suddenly, and I change pace to keep the separation.

Oh for the love of Pete! There's a little, purple unicorn stalking a butterfly, across a wire. It might be cute if she wasn't sixty feet off the ground. The glow of her horn shows she's probably using some magic to keep her balance, but the cost/benefit of chasing a butterfly this way instead of enlisting a pegasus doesn't add up.

"Twilight! Be careful!" Parasol shouts.

Oh genius, distract the kid. Why don't you just grab her and pull her to safety? My worst prediction comes true, and the kid loses her grip and plunges to the ground. While the ponies are screaming, I look and hope the kid hits the big fountain. Ouch, she does, worst belly flop I can remember. I roll my eyes, and am glad I thought my act through carefully. Ponies will forgive almost any 'disobedience' that rescues a foal. I am climbing/sliding down the drainpipe into the courtyard. The filly's sudden arrival panicked some, her failure to surface panicked more, my arrival breaks all but one hardliner, a guard who is stripping off his armor. Smart kid, that iron suit would add him to the list of the drowned. A running dive and I'm in.

One of the important differences between me and the natives is I can swim. Their arm movements and density mean they can't. Fortunately, the fountain is only as deep as my shoulders. The filly is sinking and an easy catch. I drag her out of the water and put her closest to the guardspony. He makes a quick shooing motion and starts mouth to mouth. In a moment, the filly gasps, retches/coughs up all the water she breathed. The guards pony carries her off.

I take advantage of the water to wash up, if only I could spot some soap, but that's only a hope. After a few moments, I'm climbing the drain pipe to rejoin Parasol and the one remaining guardspony, Barracks Lawyer.

Parasol is staring at me with amazement. My dull expression is my only answer. She shyly gestures for me to follow, and the game begins.

The guardspony snickers. "And you were scared of him. He probably thinks you are a foal," he says and Parasol blushes furiously.

Then the guardspony slips on the puddle of water dripping off me, and its Parasol's turn to laugh. "I think we need to get him dried off before we get to Princess Cadence's suite."

"Maybe get him a kilt while we're at it. That'll cut down on the others staring at his gear," the guardspony said.

Parasol detours long enough to grab a towel and the pair are amazed I know what it's for, and how to use it. Of course, when I'm done, I throw it on the floor. Can't break character too much.

Grumbling, Parasol picks it up, takes two steps and deposits it in a hamper full of towels. "Just when you think they can be housebroken," she grumbles as we continue.

Entry into the royal apartments proper is a new experience. The thirty-foot ceilings for one. Logical when height and arm length aren't the limiting factors, but I still would have broken it up with more floor space.

"Now where will we, ulp?" Parasol asks as she looks around, and realizes I'm not where she thought I'd be.

The guardspony has burst out laughing. As I'd climbed to the top of one of the 25-foot tall bookshelves and was making myself at home atop it. The ornamental railing was solid and high enough to prevent me from rolling off in my sleep, and the space is nearly as large as the floor space of my cage. It's also a lot warmer this high off the ground, so I won't need a blanket.

Parasol just facehoofs and decides she isn't going to chase me, or risk me toppling the bookcase over on her if she tries to drag me to ground level. "Do we stay and watch him?" she asks. The guardspony shrugs. "Wonderful."

I stay where I am and get some sleep. I need to maintain the balance between irritating and punishable, that is going to take a lot of thought. Besides sleeping in the library will give me a reason to go rummaging through the books. Ah, all part of my master plan. As if.
------------------------------

The hoof nudging me awake is a new experience. I'm only barely awake enough to roll over and recognize Pink, when she practically crushes my rib cage.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squeals happily.

I let out a not entirely voluntary cry of pain.

"Oh, sorry," she said as she releases me and flutters away. "But I just heard what you did, and I want to thank you."

I continue to stare at her, showing a bit of fear. She backs off even more.

"Oh, you don't understand a word I'm saying," she says, "I am sorry."

I rub my ribs and look around, continuing my 'confused' act.

"The filly?" she says while her horn conjures up an image of the little pony falling into the water.

I reach into the image as if I can pull the filly out of the illusion. Pink plays along and has a gasping Twilight clinging to my hand as I draw it out of the illusionary water. I stare intently at the little figure on my hand, as if it is a miniature of the original, rather than my real interest that illusions of such detail are possible. It's an important warning that if I escape, magically disguised traps could very much be a concern.

Once she's convinced I understand what I did to make her so happy, the bone-crushing hug resumes. I hug her back. That might have been a mistake, because the Lord High Executioner on the floor below stops looking as happy as Pink was, and begins glaring at me.

Great, win one lose one. I release Pink and let her realize how her paramour is reacting.

"Armor, it's all right, I'm not a fancy." She shuddered at the idea.

For which I was very grateful. Ponies may be cute, but they are aliens, and they are well known for doing things with humans they'd never get away with in a billion years with a pony, or even a cow. Anything that could talk to the authorities. How fortunate that all the locals can't speak a word and writing on paper might as well be magic.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked pointedly.

I cowered at her apparent displeasure. She facehoofs and flutters off. I climbed down from my perch. The Lord High Executioner is still giving me visual daggers, but I have a way to deal with that.

Pink goes off to check something, and the Lord High Executioner rears up and sticks a hoof in my chest. "You stay away from her, understand?" he tells me.

Of course I couldn't possibly 'understand', but I begin caressing the soft `feathers` of his fetlock with a dreamy expression on my face. It takes surprisingly little time for the conclusion to dawn on him. He's back on all fours, and halfway across the room. I 'realize' I've offended him and take a completely submissive posture.

Pink is horrified when she walks back in. "What did you two do?"

"I found out that I don't have to worry about him sneaking into your bed at night," the Lord High Executioner says, "He'll be too busy trying to figure out a way to sneak into mine."

"Well, you are very cute," Pink tells him, and desperately tries to stifle her giggles.

I almost feel sorry for the Lord High Executioner, but just almost.

Pink taps me on the shoulder. "Come on, we have to get you some new clothes. I think getting you a kilt might be a good idea." She turns to face the Lord High Executioner. "Are you coming Shining, or are you afraid he'll get friendly when I'm not looking?"

'Shining' I thought she called him Armor before. I consider the odd pony names as I follow.

"We haven't named him yet," the Lord High Executioner points out to Pink.

Well, I've named you already, so who'd the lesser race now?

"Didn't the tabloids already name him The Crimson Death?" Pink asks

"I can just see you attending a garden party. 'Yes this is my human, The Crimson Death, he used to be a pit-fighter but now he's serving horses' douvers'," the Lord High Executioner says, "Celestia would love that."

It's a struggle to keep from laughing at that image. This job is going to be harder than I thought.

"She'd think it's charming, you know how she gets," Pink suggests and laughs at the Lord High Executioner's struggles not to laugh.

"Still a name," Pink said as she walks.

If they decide on Caesar, it's raise the black flag and woe to the wicked. I read the book before I saw the movie.

"Ursine Persiflage," the Lord High Executioner says, "For how loud he is."

Pink giggles. "You're awful. Most nobles couldn't even pronounce that without two days warning and most who could would have no idea what it meant."

"You can always shorten it to Ursy Percy," the pony now on my list to die horribly explains.

"Ursine Persiflage it is," Pink said, "All those idiots with their dogs with names longer than the animal deserve it."

They will pay for this. They will pay dearly, but appropriately, for this.
------------------------------

Flush.

That's three. Come on, you have to be more curious than that.

Flush.

Pink was overjoyed I could figure out how to use the toilet with just basic instruction, although the roll of paper beside it was still a mystery.

Flush.

Mystery solved.

"Percy what are you . . . ?" Pink asks as she and Parasol arrive.

Parasol facehoofs, and poor Pink tries to work up the demeanor to scold me.

Flush.

But I'm just so fascinated as the swirling water yanks more of the paper off the roll and down the path of the swirling water that she just manages to keep her composure. Parasol runs away and her guffaws can be heard in the distance.

I point at the spinning roll as the last of the paper leaves the roll and travels along with the water into the unseen depths. She tries, oh how Pink tries to work up some anger to scold me with, but to no avail. She's just so taken with my enthusiasm.

"I should give you to Celestia, you and Philomena would get on great," Pink manages before scampering away.

Torturing these ponies while desensitizing them to my antics seems to be going on well.
------------------------------

The Lord High Executioner walks into Pink's suite. "How could, why would, what would possess?" he murmurs, barely acknowledging that I opened the door, not Pink or Parasol who are having a meeting with 'Celly' whoever that is. It can't be who I think it is.

The stallion looks and acts as disoriented as I did on my arrival in this place, and on my treatment at the hands/hooves of the locals.

I can take advantage. No, I won't stoop to their level. I get him situated on the couch and get a blanket over him. He keeps asking the same question over and over. I get Pink's grooming combs and return to the couch and sit beside the Lord High Executioner's head and carefully begin brushing out his mane. He moves slightly, putting his head in my lap without spearing me with his horn.

The questions 'How could, why would, what would possess?' repeats over and over.

Ponies would, I want to tell him as he drifts off, but he has just had proof of that. Anyone who'd do what ponies do to the humans of this world would do it to cows, griffons, or other ponies. Once they aren't 'people', anything can be justified. The Lord High Executioner has learned the lesson I had all those months ago.

Pink and Parasol arrive after their hero has long since passed to dreamless sleep. He sleeps with his head in my lap, and me adjusting the covers periodically, or brushing his mane if dreams begin to surface. Pink and Parasol watch for a little while. I pay them no mind.

Finally, Pink sends Parasol back to her room, and approaches the two of us. The Lord High Executioner seems to sense Pink's arrival, and then his position.

"It's okay," Pink tells him and presses him down again. "It's all right, he was just looking after you." She hugs the Lord High Executioner, and murmurs little endearments to him. "I heard when Celestia did," she tells him, "You did all you could. You did all anyone could."

The stallion breaks down in tears, hugging Pink and sobbing like a frightened child.

After a while, Pink lifts the Lord High Executioner up and guides him towards her bedroom. She pauses and flips a wing towards me. "Come on, I think you'll help."

I give her a confused look, but comply.

Pink gets the Lord High Executioner in the bed, and starts to climb in herself, I pull the covers over them and start to tuck them in.

"No, you too," Pink says, and pats the space behind the LHE, "Please."

I strip off the clothing I have, and note she takes a long look at my equipment as I climb into the bed. I pull the covers over all of us and press up against the stallion's back.

We lie that way for a while. Pink's horn emits a little heart that earths itself in LHE's horn. It seems to settle him. Then she emits a second, and it spends several minutes bouncing off my head before fading. Irritating, I wonder what it was supposed to do.
------------------------------

Two A.M. and I slip out of their bed. Not only do I have to take a piss, but they're talking in their sleep. That's right, both Pink and the LHE. You can imagine what the two young lovers are talking about, and they are just able to hear and react to what the other is saying.

It's like watching a soft-core porno with the picture off.

I'm done but haven't flushed when I hear the main door being unlocked. Suspicious bastard I am, I leave the lights off and sneak a glance at what's going on.

I yank my head back. CHRIST ALMIGHTY! I didn't know they made'em that big!

Even the biggest bull stallion could walk under my outstretched arm without brushing his ears. This one looks like it could stare me straight in the eye. I've never even heard of one that big. Before I pulled back, I saw the horn thrust proudly out from under its cloak, which means I'm completely screwed. There's only one reason for a unicorn to come snooping in at 2 A.M.

Okay, choices, I can hide here and hope it passes me by while it murders the kids. And as an ex-pit fighter, I'll follow within the week. Or, I can be completely stupid and loud enough they'll get away, and get killed right now. This is the best chance I'm gonna get to scrape together the info I need to escape. Okay, decision, make enough noise to let them wake and escape, then once they're out, it's everypony for himself. Crap, I hate this. Weapons, four rolls of toilet paper and a toilet brush. Gee, I could probably take out an SS Panzer Corps with that. Not even a can of hair spray and a match. There's a fire poker of good wrought iron by the fireplace. I just have to cross 20 feet of open space under the eyes of a horse with a built-in tractor beam. Crap. Well, I lived through five years of fighting humans, monsters and the occasional pony, and it was for the same stakes. I win, I live. I don't, I don't.

I collect the rolls. The entire moment of indecision took maybe three seconds. Fortunately, there's a light switch near the bathroom. It illuminates the central area as bright as day. I close my eyes and flip the switch. My target yelps high-pitched, probably a mare, at the sudden brightness. I flip the switch a couple more times, then shut it off. I've still got my night vision, she doesn't. I kick the door loudly and let fly with two of the rolls. She's still trying to clear her eyes as her horn glows and she catches the tail end of the unfurling rolls. It doesn't change their path, both hit her. She shies back at the assault.

I've got the poker and I charge. I throw another roll as a distraction. She deflects the roll and barely manages to parry the poker with her horn. She kicks out with a forehoof, the knifelike tres-foil on her forelegs nearly slices me. I get a punch in on the side of her head. While she staggers from that, my next blow does more good, right on the base of the horn. Not only does it hurt like the dickens, it prevents them from using magic for a little while. How little depends on their training. She still has the presence of mind to dodge out of the way of a thrust from the poker.

I whistle as loud as I can while trying to stay between the bedroom, the way out and this giant unicorn.

Then her horn lights and I can see her grin.

Crap, I'm dealing with one of the crazy ones. Fine, you aren't getting the kids. I dodge the lashing hoof and parry the horn thrust. I kick the nerve cluster just below the forward shoulder. She squeals in pain, and I bring the handle of the poker down on the base of her horn. The faint glow and the soft impact tells me she's smartened up and I'm getting no more free, cheap shots. The swinging horn deflects the poker, then her damn tail swats me away. It's like getting hit with a Nerf dump truck, not enough to break all my ribs, but enough to thrown me most of the way back to Pink's bedroom.

The poker and I part company, and the beast prances forward, grinning the whole time. I've managed to get out of most of the tough fights in the pit by doing the unexpected. But even I'm wondering where the Hell the guards are, and why haven't Pink and LHE woken up and skedaddled. I left fly with the last roll, she deflects it without effort, but she sidesteps to get ready for me to go for the poker. I don't.

I go straight at her, low. She doesn't realize I'm going between those slicers she's wearing. Under her barrel I slam both fists and my shoulder into her. It knocks the wind out of her for an instant, which is all I need to yank her legs and send her toppling. The only thing that saves her from the follow up where I break her neck is the wing knifing out of the cloak that leaves me gasping on the ground.

That one broke ribs. How many of these damned winged unicorns are there? I never heard of them before I met Pink, now the damn things are everywhere. I levered myself up, but the unicorn was equally pensive about renewing her attack.

Maybe I did hurt her. Where the Hell are the thrice-damned guards! If the kids don't get up and gone, this thing is going to march over and just knock me over.

I stay between this thing and the kids' route out. I remember everything I ever learned about fighting ponies. Occasionally some idiot would want to fight a human. Giving into those demands was usually the signal we were going to get raided, either it was a set up, or a dead pony became the talk of the town and the Guard hunted the troop down. I'd done this precisely twice, fortunately after I'd established my kefaybe. The first time was a buck unicorn who accidentally taught me the pound the horn-base trick, I got in close and pounded him unconscious, then 'helped' the handlers get him out of the pit. The crowd hated every second of it, so I never did it again, with that troop. The second was 'human baiting', I was leashed to a post against a team of pegasi and earth ponies. Four on one, but pegasi are really sensitive about their wings, and Earth Ponies have to get in close to fight. I crippled all four, and again, 'helped' the handlers get them out of the pit. The crowd really hated that I kept petting them, as if trying to make them feel better after they'd somehow been hurt.

That leaves me with a brute of a winged unicorn, in full possession of her powers, yet strangely reticent about simply wrapping me up in magic and finishing her mission.

I am going to make you regret not simply crushing me the instant you had the chance. I'm almost out of tricks, but almost isn't the same as out. And whoever designed the costume armor this one is wearing ignored the throat, eyes and wing joints, let me at any one of those and I win. Dislocating a pegasus' wing is like kicking a guy in the balls with steel-toed boots. Grinding that joint should keep even a winged unicorn from casting spells while I break its throat with my heel. Difficult, but not impossible.

The blow that knocks me down comes from behind.

"Percy! NO!" Pink shouts after she's tackled me. "What are you doing?" Then her ire comes down on my 'sparring partner'. "Celestia what are you doing?" she spits at the winged unicorn.

Oh crap, now I am dead. Someone might have mentioned the ruler of ponykind is a giant, winged unicorn. In five years it might have come up in conversations, but no. Finagle just loves us humans. Loves us to death.

"We caught the assassin, and I decided to check on your security," the winged unicorn says, despite my face being firmly planted in the carpet, I can clearly hear her smile, "I had no idea you had obtained such a ferocious. Ow. And effective bodyguard, Cadence."

I missed Pink's reply. 'Assassin', singular? I elbow Pink off of me and dash for the poker.

"PERCY! NO!" Pink shouts. But I pass her and Celestia, and continue towards the bedroom.

Hey, I'm already dead for attacking the God-Queen of Equestria, even if she treats the whole thing as a lark, the Guard, especially the pony I'm charging in here to protect, won't and will deal with me 'quietly'.

The pegasus in the Wonderbolt costume has jimmied the window. At least I hope it's a costume, the idea of whatever the Hell is going on having reached them is horrifying. I do know what The Wonderbolts are. You can't be around hormonal teenagers without hearing all kinds of boasts and claims about them.

But that the pegasus falls for a simple arena trick speaks volumes that it's not a Wonderbolt. If you've got a thin weapon, like a foil or a fire poker, you line the point and pommel up with your opponent's eyes. In bad light, or with other distractions, they won't focus on the blade until it is too late. I have all that, bad lighting, too many distractions and an amateur who thought this would be a quick in and out. It flips a knife at me, hoping to distract me. On a native human it would have worked, it might have worked ten minutes ago, but I have a death sentence on me right now and going out in a blaze of glory might just do the rest of my people some good. The pit fighters who are culled by the Guard, those guards might realize with a bit of training, the fighters can be guards or at least something other than corpses on the hoof.

The knife slices my skin, but no matter, the thin, square rod punches through the light armor the pegasus wears, and out the back. Just under the shoulder blade. Then we're both out the window.

It's amazing the things you think of. Hanging outside the tower, I shift one hand to get a grip on the shaft of the poker sticking out of the pegasus' back. While my knee is moving up as fast as it can to come up between the pegasus' back legs. I didn't consciously order my body to do it, all the training makes it automatic. My conscious mind is noticing how slowly everything seems to be moving. Some other part tells me that from this height, I have three seconds to fall, and I'll be going about 66 mph when I hit. Another part tells me to make sure the pegasus is beneath me when I land. I notice the squeals of the pegasus from getting her cooch booted, and I'm winding up to hit her again. Again, no orders, just instinct. My rational mind is pointing out we're over a courtyard about a hundred feet below the ground floor of the tower, so I have about four seconds to live, rather than three, and I'll be going 88 mph not sixty-six.

The extreme pain in my side flares and starts spreading. I rationally tell myself the blade was probably poisoned, or had acid on it. I vaguely wonder if the poison would kill me, if the end of the fall didn't. The things you think of. Not home, not family, not the lost ones. Just bits of minutiae, trivialities, little thought experiments to avoid the reality. I guess that's what makes us human. I think a pony would be screaming in terror right now. Oh, I have a pony right here, and that's exactly what she's doing, how perspicacious of me.