I Am Not Spartacus - Celestia's Nightmare Night
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.

The beds in this place are getting distinctly more weird. These are talking, or rather quietly arguing.

"It's fun."

"It is demeaning."

"Because it confuses you?"

"Because it is demeaning."

I let my mind analyze before I 'awaken'. If it isn't going to kill you, and especially if two females are 'discussing' ever so politely, take advantage of the illusion of sleep to get the gist of the conversation, because the instant you are awake, they'll want you to take sides.

"Good morning, is what's-his-face dead?" I ask as I look around. Little Blue is acting as my bolster and blushes as I acknowledge the position. Pink is snuggled up behind me. Both have wings draped over me. If my next words didn't run the risk of alienating one or both of them, it would be a very comfortable arrangement. I'm in the Great White's bedroom. At another time I might be curious, right now I'm content to find out later. Probably convenient to analyze whatever what's-his-face did to me, and contain it.

"Her Highness is being pig-headed," Pink tells me as she hugs and nuzzles me.

"You're both 'her highnesses' and besides, I'm not answering anybody until I get the answer to my question," I tell them.

Both are strangely silent. A lot of nervous looks at me, and ever more insistent 'you tell him' looks at each other. Finally, Pink says, "Discord is again trapped in stone. No longer a threat."

"Okay, then why are you being stubborn?" I ask.

Pink bites me for my troubles.

"I say she should go out for Nightmare Night," Pink tells me, "And she . . . ."

"Thinks it's demeaning," Little Blue replies.

"You're both right," I tell them.

Always ruthlessly take advantage of confusion. "What were you and Luna arguing about?" I ask.

"Nightmare Night," Pink blurts out, "What's the appropriate costume?"

"For Princess Luna, Nightmare Moon of course," I tell her and yawn as I snuggle against Little Blue.

"What?" they shout together.

"Sure. It was originally invented to break the cult of Nightmare Moon, by making her a laughing stock. What better costume that Nightmare Moroon?"

There is a long and deeply horrified silence among the alicorns.

"What was your idea again?" Little Blue asks Pink.

The two let me rest undisturbed for a while longer while they whisper to each other.
------------------------------

Somebody hit me, I think as I wake from a peaceful sleep. With the arrival of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony for their beatification, Pink's apartment had become 'party central'. I'd arranged for Armor and Pink to occasionally get some sleep in Little Blue's servants' quarters. Since she doesn't have servants to use them. I think if the Great White used her magic to clean her place the way Little Blue does, it would spark a palace revolution. That left no place for Percy to lay his head, except I know of a storeroom. I don't know what they stored in here, unless it was neck braces to diplodici, or it was a place to have a private conversation with a full-grown dragon. It had 12' x 8' floor space, and was 60 feet to the ceiling. At the fifty-foot mark is an 8' x 6' platform with a foot-tall railing. Getting some bedding up there meant a long climb up a ladder, but in the three days of constant parties, no one came in here.

Until now. I hate 'until now', it's always unpleasant. Why couldn't 'until now' be a lonely the Great White come to snuggle or for sex? Or Discord escaping and deciding to send me home? Or a new land appearing full of ponies who aren't such invidious doofuses? No, 'until now' always is some irritant.

"He doesn't look so tough."

See?

Why are teenagers idiots? I can't even tell if it's a boy or a girl. Turning over after another poke doesn't get me any closer to an answer. But the pegasus mare in the Wonderbolt costume lights off every alarm I have. She gets my look of alarm the second it's on my face, and backs up. The other one doesn't, even gets closer.

"He doesn't look it," says the Wonderbolt, "But he is."

"I've taken on things a lot tougher than him," the rainbow-maned pegasus tells the Wonderbolt. Not looking at me as he/she/it dismisses my danger and presence.

Hey, you LGBTAFLCIO parade float, if I'm not so tough, why are you trying to pick a fight with me? I think the Wonderbolt is actually Spitfire, okay, young male trying to impress a mare? Wonderbolt fanboy/girl? Another hard poke in the arm and I stop caring. The pegasus, a mare I discover, is on the floor of the platform, one of my hands wrapped tight around her throat, the other ready to do violence as appropriate, from tickling her until she pees herself in front of her idol. Or choke her out and toss her to the ground.

"Dashie freeze!" Spitfire calls.

"I can take him," 'Dashie' replies. But her boasts show she doesn't realize I can break her larynx with just a slight shift of my weight. She might escape, but she'd drown in her own blood before she could get help. My free fingers move close to her eye, and she has no leverage to get loose when she realizes her danger.

"Then he'll take you," Spitfire says, disguising her worried tone as a singsong so the human doesn't get it. "He's had a bad time with pegasus mares in Canterlot, and he always does the same to them."

"What?" the edge of her confidence slips as she stares into my placid expression.

"A pegasus mare tried to hurt Princess Cadence and Captain Armor. He jumped out of their bedroom window, the one ten stories up, and skewered her with a poker," Spitfire tells 'Dashie'.

It's like a push in, dolly out, 'Dashie's' eyes get big, but her pupils shrink. "So."

"So, the nurses had to keep her sedated cause she kept screaming that he popped her insides so she couldn't have foals anymore," Spitfire says, "He did it in three seconds flat."

And 'Dashie' finally quits squirming, so I move my hand away from her eye. Her tail slowly curls up to cover her belly, but that's not what it's really trying to protect. It's all I can do not to tug on her tail, as if in 'preparation', but Spitfire is doing a good job.

"Then another pegasus mare gave him an avocado, when Cadence reacted, he thought she was going after Cadence, so he popped her wings, and all four legs," Spitfire has dropped the baby-talk and is honestly sounding worried. "Armor brought him in. They were alone for maybe 30-seconds tops, then he tried to get the guards and medics back in. She was out cold, grinning, and she'd crapped all over the bed."

'Dashie' is lying nearly stock-still, staring up at me with pinpoint pupils. The only sound is 'Dashie's' breathing, and feathers on wood. Her wings are extending slowly, as if of their own accord. I've eased my grip slightly, but I'm still ready.

"So, him and Celestia, no lie?" 'Dashie' asks, her eyes never leave my face. I can feel her pulse racing through my grip.

"No lie," Spitfire says, "So just lie there. Once he realizes you were just teasing, he'll let you go. You fight him, well, it's been nice knowing you. Sick thing is, you'll probably love every second of it."

That's where I recognize this pegasus from, she was at the Grand Galloping Gala, hanging around the Wonderbolts. She's the one who started the 'avalanche' of pillars. I lean close, and she tries to shrink away. I sniff fairly loudly, and get a disgusted expression. Then I toss her off the platform. She scrambles in the air for a second, then gets an expression of righteous indignation. She shadow boxes a bit.

Teenagers.

"What's wrong with me? Huh? What's wrong? Do you think I stink?"

I look at Spitfire and shrug.

"Dashie!" she warns, too late.

I grab the extended hoof, and start tickling the soles of her hoof. Her eyes go wide for a second, before she starts laughing like a mad thing. Spitfire has to hold her up to prevent 'Dashie' from crashing to the ground. I am able to hold one hoof in a single hand and tickle it, so I grab the second flailing hoof with my second and start the same.

"Not the hooves! Not the hooves! Not the hooves!" she squeals.

I've got a good enough grip that when she pulls her hooves in and out to dislodge them, she's the one who moves. Spitfire can't employ her full flight strength with this wildly squirming cargo, so she can't pull her away either. With the advantage of mass, strength and leverage on my side, I shift the way I'm sitting on the platform. Too late, Spitfire cottons to what I'm doing.

"Dashie move your hooves!" she calls

"Trying!" the giggling mare replies.

I use my feet to get one of her rear legs, trapping it against the railing, and tickling the sole of that with my toe. If Dashie was helpless before, she's lost completely now.

After a few minutes of her barely being able to breathe, I release the pegasus, and wave a scolding finger at Spitfire as Dashie hangs limp in her forelegs. Or nearly limp, her wings are at painfully full extension. I'm not the only one to notice this as Spitfire carries her charge out of my reach, then out of the room.

Somepony is going to be teased mercilessly until her dying breath about her defeat at the hands of the Crimson Death.
------------------------------

I don't know what 'Discord' did to me, but I can only rest a short while before feeling the heat building up inside me. There's nothing physically happening, and no magical cause, and supposedly, when he was encased in stone, his tricks were reversed. I'll believe that when I feel it. So while the bulk of the parties elsewhere have wound down, the party in Pink's quarters is going strong.

I seriously think the two pink ponies are trying to see who collapses in exhaustion first. I slip in and find a certain, purple guest of honor passed out behind the couch drooling on a book. How 'Thanos of Equestria' can sleep with the obscene noise that yellow-white mare with the shades is blasting into the room is a mystery. I don't care who's playing, 'sounds to get tinnitus by' aren't music, they're a health hazard. That much bass in that small a room is idiotic even if healing magic is available.

I take 'Thanos' out of the room and into the much quieter corridor, and then into Little Blue's quarters to get her bedded down in the servants' quarters. Thankfully, it is much quieter in here.

She reacts to the quiet by waking slightly. "Thanks Shiny," she said and gives me a kiss on the lips. I'm surprised, but I don't bobble her.

What I do have a problem with is remembering Armor's pet name for Thanos. What is it? What is it? What is it!? "Go to sleep, Twilie," I tell her as Armor would and pull the covers over her and slip out of the room. She's sound asleep before I'm out the door.

Whew! One disaster averted. Not Thanos discovering I can talk, but kissing student and mentor? The way the Great White's mind works, she might decide I have to get transformed into an alicorn and marry Thanos. Talk about a private hell. I like the Great White, Pink and Little Blue because they have a huge sense of play. Armor is on the low end of that, and if what I've heard about his sister is even half way true, she's about as 'fun' as a rock. Play isn't just physical, it shows an intellectual flexibility and spontaneity. You need that for the theater. You can memorize every play, but if you can't improvise past someone flubbing a line, you're useless.

Speaking of improvising, once back out in the corridor, I'm facing Peep and Candyland's Rorschach. Both are looking grim. As grim as ponies can, which is quite a bit.

"You embarrassed Rainbow Dash," Peep tells me, "You're a bad boy."

Oh, she can beat up whomever she wants, and if they stand up for themselves, they're bad. Typical pony thinking.

I don't have time for this. If that other idiot is out here, I should be able to slip Pink out of there and let her get some sleep before the ceremony tomorrow/later this morning. I don't have time for 'Mother May I?' with a pony. I try to step aside, only Peep gets in the way. What is it about pegasi? Wings make you stupid? I look at her, keeping my expression placid, but inside my temper is starting to fray. A couple of days with only cat naps will do that to you.

She glares at me.

That's it.

That's all you can manage? That's all your anger amounts to? How the Hell did you manage to beat What's-his-face? You think I'm supposed to be impressed by you goggling at me? Peep, this is not the meeting I wanted, but if you're going to attack people for defending themselves, I'm going to put a stop to it. If your maguffin is all your power, then too bad you haven't got it with you. I was trained by the Warmasters. You take me on, you bring your A-game and maybe I'll let you live.

She glowers at me. I stand my ground and use a technique I've never even considered using on the Great White or Pink. It's not fair, it's too fun, and it's utterly devastating on ponies. I bow my head, but keep my eyes looking up.

You think you're the tough one, Peep. Well bring it. I thrust out half my lip, while biting the other half. It's difficult to pull off, but 'it's super effective!' Candyland's Rorschach is beginning to tear up, even though she's not even the target. Peep continues to look at me as if that'll have an effect.

I'm not affected. That's your best, that's what you've got? You brought a pee-shooter to an artillery duel kiddo. I clasp my hands before me and keep looking at the glowering pony. I learned this at the Warmasters, after I did it to two of theirs and successfully disarmed them in practice fights. They, of course, improved the technique and taught it back to me. Believe me, making me hesitate to hit an armed pony takes a huge amount of 'puppy-dog eyes'.

If Peep had come alone, she might have had a chance. Candyland's Rorschach bursts into tears, two actual streams of water. "Wah! I'm a bad pony!" she wails as her hair goes straight and she collapses to the floor in sobs. I think three days with little to no sleep has not helped her grip on reality.

Peep makes the mistake of glancing at her friend. When she looks back I've gotten closer, almost in her face. I give her the 'soulful-eyes, slow blink'. She stuffs both hooves in her mouth and her scowl falters. I hit her with it again. You think you can beat me? Now she's tearing up, her eyes wavering, and her frown isn't her displeasure with me.

Go home and train, you cute-fu is weak and lacking! I go for the kill. A little sniffle and a single tear. There's a moaning yellow and pink streak heading away. The other Bearer is still in tears as I head into the apartment. It's quiet. The pony with the shades is packing up her records, and Pink is crashed out on the couch. I pick her up and take her to her bedroom and tuck her in. I don't think I could wake her by sawing her horn off. In a few moments, she sounds like she's trying to do just that. I turn her slightly, blessed silence. Must remember to tell her about that.

Outside, Candyland's Rorschach is still all straight-haired and sniffly. I pick her up and take her to her quarters, which is quite a carry across the castle. I suspect there are going to be all kinds of rumors tomorrow. I couldn't care less. In the Bearers' suite of rooms, I encounter another one, she's the concessionaire from the party. She seems stunned I'd be bringing her friend back and circles me like an excited terrier waiting for a lap or a thrown ball. Once I've got the Candyland's Rorschach bedded down and tucked in, I focus on her. The looks she's giving me are creepy, but in the familiar way a lot of noblemares creep me out. I like snuggling with Little Blue and Pink. I like doing a lot more than snuggling with the Great White, but only when we're the same species. Although most mares, even the Great White, have a disturbing desire to be serviced by humans, and she really gets off when I do it that way. If a massage or tickling gets her off, that's fine too, but coupling with mares or stallions when I'm human, that's still very creepy. And that's what concessionaire is giving me, bedroom eyes.

I squat down so we're at the same height. Her eyes get big and she licks her lips. The way her tail is swishing and her body trembling, I know what she's expecting. I take off her hat, she looks nervous about my handling her hat, and I set it on a nearby table. She relaxes when she understands I just set it aside. Now she looks almost ready to go if I just breathe on her. I start scratching around her ears. Oh boy does she like that. Then I reach down and start scratching where the leg meets the body near the breastbone. She begins slowly air-kicking with the opposite back leg. A slow, gentle bite on her upraised ear has her breathing heavy. Then I put both hands on her cheeks and raise her head. She instinctively puckers, closes her eyes and raises her head for the kiss.

"Applejack," I say. And her eyes fly open as she rears back out of my grip. "Thou tread near a gravest nightmare, return to thy bed and more peaceful slumbers." I put her hat back on her head. "We also have been afflicted with such longings, but he is besotted with Our Sister, and She likewise. After Her long loneliness, cuckolding Her in Her own home, even in dreams, would be the gravest insult."

"Yes'um, thank you yer Highness," she says, and keeps nod-bowing all the way back into her room, "No offense intended ta you or yer sister."

"It is his kindness that likewise won Our Sister's heart," I tell her.

She nods and closes the door behind her. It sounds like she practically threw herself on the bed.
------------------------------

The Great White is marching around and around in a figure-eight pattern. Pink and Little Blue are there, as well as Armor. All three of them look like they'd like to be absolutely anywhere else, even facing Discord again. The Great White is one wrong word away from blowing a gasket. But whether she's going to be furious, or laugh her head off is a toss up.

"We had breakfast with the Bearers this morning," she says as she circles.

Despite the terrible temptation to set her off, I continue standing at attention, not saying or looking at anything except a spot slightly above and to the side of her head.

"The discussions at the breakfast table were both very frank, and quite informative," she says.

Armor glowers a bit, and Pink lets out a bleat of laughter. The Great White stares at both of them. I suspect rushing forward while she's distracted, and giving her the tickling of her life would be wholly inappropriate. Despite the positive effect it would have on all of them.

Her contemptuous expression returns to me. "And you have nothing to say?"

I look straight at her. "No, your Highness," I say without any emotion.

She and the other two alicorns shy at that for some reason. When she steadies, she tells me, "Frankly, you deserve a long spanking."

I briefly consider giving her the 'sad puppy eyes', but decide to hold that back for when I really need it. Instead I just keep staring at the spot slightly above and to the side of her head.

When she realizes I'm not got to respond further, she raises an eyebrow, stares at me for several moments, then gestures with a wing for the others to leave. As soon as we're partially alone, she gives me a lick on the ear. "The spanking will be long, and private. Except for a couple of foolish guards."

Read puritanical. Considering the stories Spitfire related to 'Dashie', I do wonder what the heck my real reputation is.

For some reason, I'm not invited to the ceremony, or the rather dignified celebration afterwards. I wonder if encouraging three days of wakefulness, caused the rather sedate behavior of certain ponies. The Great White, of course, denied everything.
------------------------------

The medical team leaves after giving me a rather thorough examination. I am not happy about some of the tests, especially with Pink, Little Blue and the Great White all watching so intently. I don't mind a bit of good-natured teasing, but the almost unholy fascination with my reaction to ponies sticking things in various orifices goes beyond creepy and straight into Lovecraftian or Japanese Fetish Hentai. Stoicism seems even more amusing than when I do react. Fortunately, the doctor was entirely professional, which made up for the nurse licking her lips and rubbing her back legs together. The two orderlies also seemed extremely uncomfortable. From my presence, the nurse's reaction to me or both, I don't know. With a clean bill of health, despite feeling very dirty, I turn to the world's supply of alicorns.

"I thought you all assured me that what's-his-face and his effects were over, done with and reversed. But I'm still feeling the effects, and I don't have enough knowledge of or faith in his powers for this to be psychosomatic," I tell them.

They all look worried and ashamed, but the Great White speaks first, "Discord, that is the draconequus' name, is able to change the fundamental structure of time, space, matter and energy on a level even Luna and I cannot 'undo'. The Elements of Harmony were able to overcome his power twice, but even they can't kill him, merely encase him in stone," she says, "That you weren't initially affected, but have had a lingering side effect is worrying."

So What's-his-face is a reality warper, but his attack didn't affect me. At least not directly. Is it possible he can only affect this reality? And I'm from, no I'm still in my other reality? Like a little bubble of hyperinflation I take my universe's natural laws with me. Discord's attack merely weakened the boundary, which is why I'm feeling the effects now? That makes no sense. If he's that powerful, and that all-encompassing, why didn't he just cut the strings that are holding my bubble here. What's anchoring me here? Why can't I just snap back and get home?

I look at the three alicorns. Oh yes they could be powerful enough to anchor me here, but did they do it on purpose? If Discord wanted to hurt them, he would have sprung that little chestnut 'you've been holding him here against his will the whole time'. That would hurt them terribly. But what am I supposed to do? Tell them I'm an alien from another reality? I can see that going over well.

I'm suddenly being hugged by all three alicorns.

"May I quote? 'Arggh!' This is why people hate him, he makes them play mind games with themselves," Little Blue explains.

Okay, I will tell them, but after things get a little more stabilized.

"His claim to be the embodiment of Chaos is well founded," the Great White explains as she and the others step back, "He can and has done almost anything. That you somehow survived unfazed and unaltered must have come as a shock."

"I'm pretty chaotic myself. Maybe that shielded me," I offer, but none of them accept that explanation.

"We've prepared a cleansing magic," Pink explained, "It should deal with the taint left by him."

If they suck all the 'bad magic' out of me, does that mean I go home, or that I'm stuck here. Considering that I probably am long since declared dead on Earth and everyone I knew has moved on, not going home isn't that big a deal. Unless I snap back to the exact time I left from, that would make all this as if it didn't happen. Make it all a bad dream. So, nothing happens, I go home to either a random place/time, or I go home to where/when I was taken, or I'm stuck here for the rest of my life. Considering how my life goes, that could be tomorrow.

"I chose the danger," I tell them as I step into the magic circle Little Blue has uncovered, "Hell of a time to ask."

Coruscating energies of the three casters swirl around me in pretty patterns for a while. It is clear the trio are struggling. I want to encourage them, but I don't want to distract them. None of the swirlies or bits of light touch me. Some go into orbit, but none make Percy-fall.

The light show stops and the trio stagger away. I move out and help them sit, or lie down. They are both tired and disoriented from their spellcasting.

"I know now part of your problem, and Discord's," the Great White says, "You aren't there. It may also be how you can do the things to ponies and get away with it. You naturally disappear into the background. Even the magical background. To affect you, we had to concentrate on the area around you."

"But your healers have never had a problem," I tell them.

"My power," Pink says, "When I use it to make you remember the good times that are part of your relationships, it bounces off."

"There's another reason for that," I say, teasing her with my bland statement.

"No, I tested it on you and Celestia once," Pink says, "It affected her, but bounced off you, even through you smiled at her reminiscences."

"It may also have to do with permissions," Little Blue says, "My power is not repelled by him, but until he grants 'permission' to be within his dreams, they are slippery."

"When did you test that theory?" I ask.

Little Blue glanced around and sighed. "To get her aid, in giving my sister the dream you suggested."

"I was there, whispering and unseen, but I was there," I tell them.

"More proof," the Great White says, and hugs Little Blue, "I knew that dream couldn't have been Discord's. So, you and the Lady of the Lake?"

Little Blue nods. "She demanded the right to enter pony dreams, and observe. She like Percy must remain unseen, but with her permission, I was able to enter Percy's and then link it with the others."

The Great White bows, then hugs us both. "Thank you. To run and play with my little ponies is a dream of mine. I thank you all for it."

"And I got stuck as the foalsitter again," Pink says, and pouts.

I start to pout back at her.

"Enough, I'll stop, I give up!" Pink exclaims shaking a hoof, "I don't think Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie will ever get over that encounter."

"Then there was what you did to Applejack, in Our name," Little Blue says, and frowns, "I do not object to the message or method, but am I really so easy to impersonate?"

Pink and the Great White answer, "Thou art."

Little Blue grumbles at that. "Why did you not accost all the Bearers?"

"I never encountered the fashionista, Celestia's student I took to the servants' quarters to rest. And my revenge on her was appropriate," I say, and hurry on before the Great White or Pink can react, "She called me 'Armor', so I called her 'Twilie'. My revenge is absolute and complete."

"How is that revenge?" Pink asks.

"She had a conversation with another species, and only you three know about it," I tell them, then rub my hands and cackle malevolently.

Pink and the Great White begin snickering. Little Blue facehoofs.

"Now I'd like to ask something about those events," I say, "Not that I dislike the decrease in unwanted attention, but who started the rumor that I can detonate mares from the inside?"

There's a moment of shocked 'who me?' from each of the alicorns.

Pink is most believable, "Detonate?" she asks, showing real confusion. Then she understands and turns rather green.

The Great White stares at me with horror. "Inside me?"

Little Blue's snicker brings the other two alicorns' full attention to bear.

"LULU!" the Great White exclaims to the openly laughing Diarch.

"Detonates," Pink says and shivers.

"Ooo! Aah! BOOM!" Little Blue shouts, and makes Pink jump and whimper a bit.

"More like 'pop'," the Great White says, "Why?"

"Neither you nor Percy appreciated the lurid thoughts and associated behaviors, of the 'noblemares' of the court," Little Blue says, and seems to be struggling to keep a serious tone and expression, "So since the Guard had already started the rumors among the criminals, I had my guards spread it to the nobles. Since their spies had to uncover it, they believe it more than if it were announced in court."

"Detonated," Pink says and glances around.

The Great White raises an imperious eyebrow at Little Blue. "What does that say about your sister, who could only be pleased by such a monster?" the Great White asks. Little Blue blanches as she considers the implications of her sister taking such a creature as a lover.

She lets Little Blue off the hook by laughing uproariously. "It does explain the sudden decrease in sly comments from the stallions and ambassadors," she gasps as she laughs.

Little Blue relaxes a bit. Then focuses on me. "You are not offended?"

"When I can terrify any pony with a friendly gesture? What's the harm in that?" I ask.

Little Blue and Pink join in the laughter.

I don't join, but I am rather pleased the number of mares surreptitiously and not waving their cooches in my face has dropped off dramatically. I mentally note it also explains my reticence as a gladiator. I would have been punished for 'hurting' clients. But I do have to worry Little Blue a little.

I put on my best 'thoughtful/innocent' act. "I do wonder about the few who have continued, and those who've joined. Do they want to be popped that way?" I ask.

The three alicorns return to being horrified.
------------------------------

I've been waiting an hour and a half for my 'punishment' for freaking out most of the Bearers before the beatification. The Great White had arrived in her apartments, got a scroll and disappeared as if she'd been shot out of a cannon. I have no idea what could have gotten her so concerned, frightened, worried, and withdrawn. She took the scroll with her when she left. If it were an enemy, old or new, I would think she would have taken Armor, and me, with her. I know it's silly that arguably the most powerful being in Equestria would need a lowly human's help, but I'm worried about her. Besides, I'm not exactly chopped nuts when it comes to fighting. A stab in the guts at a critical time may serve as well as a shiny, new spell.

The guards are watching me like a hawk, although Philomena is as nervous as I am. The phoenix is also a mighty creature in her own right, but she was left behind as well. The two of us had occasionally glanced at each other as we paced in our own ways. Minutes had dragged into an hour, now an hour and a half. No alarms had sounded, no reinforcements had raced out to battle. And yet the Great White had not returned.

I hate this, I think as I watch the guards. I sit down, possibly the last time I'll be able to do that once she's through with me.

The Great White bursts in, and now I focus on that I'm on her bed, in her room. "Every pony out, please," she says. I haven't seen her this shaken up since last Nightmare Night. Philomena glances at the Great White, but stays as the ponies leave.

The guards exchange glances with her, but relent. Her gaze sweeps the 'whisper gallery' and after a few moments she relaxes. I sit up as the Great White sits down, one foreleg on either side of me. She's so close she has to crane her neck a bit to keep from touching me. There's a bit of silence. Stoic doesn't even begin to describe her. There's a volcano inside and it has to come out.

"Quit the invincible act," I tell her as I wrap her in a hug, not incidently putting my arms through her mane. "It's me, remember?"

A striking snake never moved faster. Both wings and forelegs are nearly crushing me against her and her neck is draped over my shoulder. "I raised her like a daughter, she of all ponies should know me," the Great White sobs as her shows her heart breaking, "And she thought I couldn't forgive her for a tiny lapse that wasn't even a mistake!"

I let the Diarch of Equestria cry her heart out, and I decide to plan the most intricate and torturous murder ever recorded in pony history of whoever did this to her.

She suddenly changes to her human form. For an instant I think she's over her tears, and has moved on to a different phase. A moment later I'm horrified to discover I'm right.

While wrestling or play fighting with your lover can be fun, lots of hands and faces in inappropriate places, lots of chances to show what you'd do if you had them helpless. All that goes out the window when you are really fighting them, and double when you're trying to keep them from hurting themselves. At play, the Great White's mane and tail provide plenty of 'rope' to tie her up. Now they are extra, flailing limbs. Keeping her horn away from her body to keep her from cutting, puncturing or even gutting herself is battle in and of itself.

Fortunately, her rage is directed solely at herself and injuries she inflicts on me are incidental. Or she would have cut me to ribbons in the first minutes.

After a very bad period of fighting, I manage to get her face down, her arms pinned behind her back with me lying on top. One leg is looped through her tail and an arm has her mane wound around and around it to keep her from getting inventive with them. They still cut up my arm and leg as they struggle like the rest of her to get loose and do violence to herself.

Finally, she calms down, or at least I fervently hope she has. She's still sniffly, but she seems content to lay her face on her torn to pieces bed pad and cry. Then she shifts back into her alicorn form. If she starts up again, I'm in serious trouble.

She stays calm as she gets to her hooves and turns to face me. I suddenly want to try to hide myself. I know what's coming.

"Oh no! Percy!" she exclaims on seeing the bruises, the abrasions, the many, bleeding scratches and the cuts on my arm and leg. She backs up a pace as I approach her.

"Don't you dare try to take the blame for this," I hiss, aware that the whisper galleries could have been reoccupied, but my secret isn't worth what she's doing to herself. "I could have run away. This, these, are my choice. If you help a friend, or a lover, sometime you are hurt. That's the price of friendship sometimes. So don't you DARE assume this is yours even partly. I could still be in the arena, or I could be dead. That I'm neither is due to you, Armor and Cadence. A few bruises and cuts are a small price to pay for a life."

"Will you at least let me heal them?" she asks, looking guilty and shying nervously from foot to foot.

"Of course, I'm not stupid you know," I tell her and she has smile in her eyes, even if it doesn't reach the rest of her face.

She doesn't touch the wounds with her horn, or cast an overall healing spell. She nuzzles away each injury, every bruise and cut. So when a furious Shining Armor arrives with Milestone and the two guards from my first assignation with the Great White, I'm still battered-looking, and the Great White has streaks of blood staining her muzzle, as if someone had bound her mouth shut with barbed wire, then tore it off.

She nods to Armor, then continues to work on my injuries. The guards take up their positions, but are clearly charmed by the tenderness the Great White is showing.

"Percy helped me deal with a few demons," the Great White explains to Armor who's fairly dancing to demand answers, and then kill something, "It is right and proper to bind up his wounds after such courageous and selfless service."

Armor mouths the word 'inner', and the Great White nods. Armor gives a commanding officer's glare to the three soldiers and withdraws. I almost pity the guards who failed to understand 'clear the room' means 'wait outside the door ready to charge in at the first sign of trouble'.

When she's finished, she has more streaks of blood on her muzzle, and some on her wing tips where she hugged me. She seems calmer, but still deeply hurt. I lie down on the remains of her bed and pat my stomach. She lays down and puts her head on me. I take her crown off and set it aside as I begin scratching her ears with one hand, soon joined by the other. She relaxes as her features lose the tension that had dominated them, her breathing slows as I gently scratch. It's as if I'm digging the pain out of her with my fingernails. I wrap my legs around her as she snuggles against me.

I sometime wonder if I'm getting Stockholm Syndrome. That I'm beginning to 'identity with my captors'. That when I'm with the Great White, Pink or Armor, I'm safe, I won't suffer the abuse I have at the hands/hoofs of most other ponies. Calling them captors is not a fair accusation, as far as I know, I could leave any time I asked to. That it would suddenly leave me completely on my own with naught but my wits and combat power between me and reenslavement, and anywhere a person lacks the right of self-defense, they are not a citizen, but a slave.

That, and I do have the power to influence things. If I had simply left things to unfold as they would have, there would have been an automatic sea-change in Equestrian politics. Little Blue is far more likely to force through a change in laws and come down with both hooves on dissenters. But I can't do that to Pink, or Armor, and especially not to the Great White. They personally have done nothing against me. I'm an outlier in their current system. And while the ponies continue the trend which keeps this atrocity in place, no one can wave a magic wand or shoot a Hitler and make it all go away. They are looking into it, which is an astronomical step more than they were a year ago.

The Great White has slowly nuzzled my shirt up to my armpits and is rubbing her cheek on my chest and making happy, little noises. I have yet to get the courage to ask why critters covered with fur get such a charge out of rubbing on bare skin. The other way I can understand, resting wrapped in soft, warm fur is quite pleasant, but the reverse? Nothing. I suppose I could ask, but I only remember the question when the Great White is in contented cat mode, like now, or satiated pussy mode, at which time sleep wrapping in the enfolding warmth is my primary motivation.

I'm actually glad Milestone and the two guards are here, to watch what really goes on, and be charmed by it. Their expressions are most like those of people watching adorable kittens. Considering some of the rumors swirling around our activities, the idea we sometimes just snuggle should help the Great White's fearsome reputation.

Which leads my thoughts back to the one who did this to her, and what I am going to do about it. You have hurt my friend, of course you know this means war.
------------------------------

Pink and Armor are both very nervous as I reenter the apartment. Having cried herself out, the Great White was asleep in her quarters.

"Now Percy," Pink blurts out, "Twilight didn't mean to hurt Celestia, you have to understand that."

"What did she mean to do?" I ask, the data dump I'd gotten from the Great White showed that Twilight had actually accomplished more chaos and destruction than Nightmare Moon. And hurt her 'beloved mentor' far more than anyone else had in centuries.

"It was a misunderstanding," Pink says.

I manage to start calm and rational, "She accused Celestia of planning to strip her of her powers, authority and respect for failing to submit a fricken' weekly report! There's no bureaucrat that anal in all of Equestria! And the damned thing wasn't even due until the END of this week," I shout at her and Armor. "I dragged Princess Luna into the throne room by the ears, practically tossed her at Celestia's hooves, and got a week in the dungeons when she had every right to kill me on the spot. How is that 'a misunderstanding'? How does a member of another species who only met Her Highness a few months ago, know her temper and character better than a mare Celestia raised from a pup?"

Pink and Armor retreat from my anger.

I calm myself down and give them a threatening whisper, "Now, you're afraid I'll hop a train to Ponyville to do what needs doing," I tell them, "I won't."

I let them relax. "Because one of you is going to go do it," I tell them, "Or the next time is going to be a disaster that even Celestia can't solve."

Armor and Pink look at each other worriedly, neither want to tell Thanos what she did to the Great White. But the prospect that I'll go do it is too daunting to ignore.

I leave, I am too angry to be civil. I also don't tell them I already sent Thanos of Equestria an anonymous letter. 'I know you cheated on that exam. Signed, Eventide's Waterloo'. That will torture the unicorn more than flaying off her skin. Even if it isn't true, she'll be terrified someone thinks it is.

As I stalk the corridors, and most ponies scatter out of my way, I spot Fancy Pants and Blueblood. Neither seems interested in me, nor anything except their conversation. "Can you imagine the apoplexy the chamberlain would have?" Blueblood says, "The servants bringing all their children to meet Celestia, instead of a 'normal' court."

"Oh, she'd love it," Fancy Pants says, "But the chamberlain would hit the roof."

"Can't we strong arm Armor into making it a security scan or something?" Blueblood asks.

"Forge a document," Fancy Pants scoffs, "And you've known the lad how long?"

Blueblood nods. "Although, with the little 'Percy the Talking Human' stunt, we could probably convince the chamberlain it was her idea." They both laugh at the joke. The three maids who are behind them, dusting a statue to within an inch of its life are not laughing. Two are head maids I've never seen dust anything in the year I've been here.

Somebody listened to the talking down I gave to What's-his-face. Congratulations boys, you may just qualify for the human race. Which is a pretty dark commentary on ponydom if being human is an upward struggle.

I leave them and keep walking, I know I shouldn't be hard on them, but it bugs me that thinking about the feelings and desires of others, which should be automatic in a herd creature, gets such short shrift.
------------------------------

The morning dawns, and the Great White looks awful. Little Blue handled raising the sun and the moon yesterday, but she took no joy in it. The Great White is cleaned up, the blood scrubbed off of fur and feathers, the smile is there, but she looks like a person who put on their Sunday-best clothing and manners, to walk to the gallows.

The nobles are missing from the throne room, or most of them are. The guards are there in their usual strength. In her walk towards the stairs to her throne, she slowly begins realizing something is amiss. Especially when she focuses on Blueblood and Fancy Pants having taken the place of her usual herald and chamberlain. She pauses at the foot of the steps. Her spirit seems too dampened to even ask about the changes.

"The petitioners have arrived," Fancy Pants calls out, the traditional call of the herald, implying a request to open the doors to the throne room.

"Let all who seek the wisdom of the Crown enter," Blueblood returns, also traditional. Both of them having heard the same turgid prose everytime they were present for the opening of court.

The Great White had waited at the foot of the steps leading to the throne. Now she approaches the two stallions who seem to have usurped the court's function. But the guards follow the protocol and opened the door.

The stream of petitioners is even less organized that usual. Although the maids, janitors, maintenance workers and off-duty guards keep them vaguely corralled. Children: fillies, colts, foals, and babes in arms/forelegs stream in, a resistless tide aimed right at the Solar Diarch. Many curtsey or bow on seeing her, but some just stare in awe at her.

"Hello my little ponies," she says, radiating a joy I've rarely seen on her face.

A thousand questions descend on her, requests for stories and details about herself. Like a good teacher she keeps them enthralled, providing a better history lesson than most would get in their classes, and within a few minutes she has the name of each and everyone, and uses them with practiced ease.

I glance at the two stallions who are looking absurdly pleased with themselves. Thank you, gentlemen. You've done a greater service than you know. I look around and can't find either Armor or Pink at the court.

Or maybe you do know.