Yet Another Horrible Decision - Chapter 8 (Clean)

					Yet Another Horrible Decision

					    Chapter 8 (Clean)


>You wake up rather early, at least judging by the clock on the wall.
>Another commonality: both Earth and Equestria seem to share a twenty-four hour day.
>Either way, breakfast should be ready soon if today is anything like yesterday.
>Unfortunately, today is the first day you’ll be using the squat toilet...
>At least they have toilet paper.
>After rolling on your heels a few times and almost falling in, you complete your task and jump in the shower.
>It’s no less awkward than before; the showerhead only reaches your chest and you find yourself having to squat (again) to get your head wet.
>Shower completed, you dry off and go out to get dressed.
>Seemingly, no one is here to guide you to the dining hall today. Oh well, you remember the way.
>You exit your stateroom, closing the door behind you when a voice catches your attention.
>“Morning, Anon! You’re a late sleeper too, huh?”
>Rainbow trots down the hall toward you, her hair a disheveled, multihued mess.
>It looks good, actually.
“I guess so, Rainbow. Cute mane by the way. Walk with me?”
>“Sure thing, Anon,” Rainbow smiles at you, a light blush coloring her cheeks.
>You both walk down the corridor toward the dining hall.
>“So Anon, I heard you took Spitfire out for a flight in your, uh...”
“Plane?”
>“Right, your plane. Isn’t she the coolest!? Oh man, I would give ANYTHING to fly with her,” Rainbow adds breathlessly.
“Uh, you did, remember? Day before yesterday?”
>“Well, yeah, I mean as a Wonderbolt! Y’know, you could’ve invited me to go with you guys...” she trails off in a mock display of sadness.
“Sorry Rainbow, next time maybe.”
>Rainbow flaps her wings and floats up next to you, lightly punching your shoulder with a forehoof.
>“And maybe you’ll let me fly with you next time?” She floats in place a moment before dropping back to the ground, still stopped. Her expression is rather serious.
>You stop as well, crouching down to look into her eyes.
“Alright, Rainbow Dash. I promise that you and I will fly together the next chance we get. Okay?” You ruffle her disordered mane with your hand, bringing forth a beaming smile.
>“Sounds great, Anon! I’ve got to say, you’re easily the coolest human in Equestria!”
“Rainbow, I think I’m the only human in Equestria.”
>“Still the coolest!”


>With Spike present, the seats around the table are all full.
>Rainbow decided to sit next to you today and you again sat to Celestia’s right.
>Twilight is directly across from you, studying you intently, with Spike sitting next to her.
>The rest of the ponies are all seated about where they were yesterday.
>Luna looks much better today, although still tired.
>“Good morning, Anonymous. I trust you’re ready to begin your duties today?” Celestia kindly asks.
“As ready as I can be. How about you, Twilight?”
>“Oh yes, Anonymous. Spike and I have already started, actually,” Twilight glances over at Spike, who is writing something onto a clipboard.
“What? How could you have started?” you ask somewhat incredulously.
>“Hm? Oh, right now we’re just taking down some notes about your—human, I mean—eating and sleeping habits. Coupled with what we’ve spoken about previously, I’m finding quite a few commonalities,” Twilight turns her gaze to you, purple eyes glowing with excitement.
“Huh... alright. I’ve noticed many similarities myself. Indeed, it seems our two species are more alike than not, surprisingly.”
>“I’m also aware of this. I’m glad to see you are interested in your work, Anonymous. Ah, perfect timing. Breakfast has arrived,” Celestia announces.
>The two servers from yesterday again appear with a number of covered plates, silently placing them in front of everyone. After pouring tea and uncovering the plates, they leave as quietly as they entered.
>Today’s dish is... oatmeal, with hot buttered toast and eggs.
>Oats and squats. You’re going to be one fit fellow if this keeps up.
>The oatmeal is actually quite good, seemingly sweetened with maple syrup and brown sugar, with a dash of cinnamon added as well.
>“So, Anonymous, I take it you enjoyed your reception last night?” Luna asks, looking across the table at you.
“Yes, your Highness, I did. Thank you all. I’ve never been made to feel so welcome anywhere else in my life.”
>All of the ponies all graciously accept your thanks.
“And by the way, Princess Luna, Princess Celestia. All of you, actually, you can call me ‘Anon’. It’s what all my friends call me and well... I’d like to think we’re all friends here. I consider you all friends, anyway.”
>“Of course we’re friends, Anon!” Pinkie responds, almost too quickly.
>Celestia smiles softly at you, but Luna... Luna is positively beaming. You swear that slivers of moonlight have inserted themselves into her eyes and teeth.
>Celestia chuckles lightly, “Very well, Anon. On one condition, though: You must call my sister and I by our own names. No more honorifics, please. Right, Luna?”
>Luna doesn’t break her gaze from your face, “Of course, sister. Is this acceptable to you, Anon? I, for one, am honored to call you a friend.”
“Sounds good Princ--I mean, Luna. Celestia.” You give each a quick nod.
>“Say, Anon, did ya’ll know that the rest of us, short Twilight a course, are heading on back to Ponyville today?” Applejack asks, taking a small sip of tea.
“No, I can’t say I knew that.”
>“Yeah, we’ve all got jobs, family, and stuff waiting for us. We’ll come back to visit you in about a month or so, whenever it’s time to pick Twilight up,” Rainbow says.
>“Of course, Anon, after breakfast I’ll need to take a few measurements from you. I’ve been commissioned to create a wardrobe for you and I haven’t any experience in creating clothes so... large.” Rarity states, her eyes lingering on you a moment longer than should be necessary.
“That sounds great, Rarity. I’ll be sad to see all of you go, although I do understand why. Thank you all, again, for everything.”
>You continue eating breakfast for the next half-hour, light conversation filling the dining room.


>After eating, most of the elements returned to their rooms to grab what things they had with them. Rarity, on the other hand, insists you wait for her in your room while she grabs her tools for your measurements.
>Only a few minutes pass before she arrives and walks in your half-open door.
>“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long, dear,” Rarity says in her posh and polished, impossibly feminine voice.
“Not at all, Rarity. So, what are we doing here? I never went to any tailors back home.”
>She looks you over, sapphire eyes gazing up and down your body. “Just stand still and move when I tell you to, hm?”
>You respond with a nod as her horn begins to glow, measuring tape magically floating and extending.
>“Well now, this won’t be too hard at all. Your clothing will be quite like Spikey Wikey’s, only considerably larger... We’ll start from the top and work our way down.” The measuring tape circles around your neck somewhat loosely. Rarity looks at the number and jots it down in a small notepad, also controlled magically.
>Unicorns are evidently able to handle multiple objects with their magic. You idly wonder how regular ponies and pegasi are able to write.
>“And now for your wonderfully wide shoulders,” Rarity’s eyelids droop slightly, a smouldering glimmer betraying her attraction. She extends the measuring tape slightly beyond your shoulders, jotting down another number in her notepad. “Now if you could just lift up one of your arms... very good, Anon,” she moves the tape down the length of your arm, stopping short of your wrist.
>“Hmm... no, no, no, this simply won’t do. Anon? If you could remove your shirt, please? I need to get a proper measurement of your chest and sides,” she sits on her haunches directly in front of you, eyes alternately daring and commanding.
“Uh, alright. Sure thing, Rarity.” You unbutton and remove your shirt, laying it neatly on the bed.
>Her eyes widen a moment. “Lovely... absolutely lovely,” she murmurs to herself, although loudly enough for you to hear. “Wonderful! Now we’ll start with the chest...” she snakes the tape around your chest, slithering between your arms and tightly winding around the widest point before she marks that number down as well. “And if you could just lift up your arm for a moment again.” You do as she asks, the measuring tape glides off your chest and up on your side, extending from your waist to your armpit. Rarity’s brow furrows and her thin smile droops in mock frustration. “Hmm... I just can’t see it...”
>Rarity shoots a mischievous glance at you, moving to your side and rearing up on her haunches, her forehooves grasping onto your chest and back for balance. “Mmmm... your scent... so masculine...” she says with a husky, low whisper. You think you can catch a glint of sapphire out of the corner of your eye. “Ah, there we are!” Although she lingers a moment longer than her exclamation would indicate, soft underhooves pressing against your skin briefly before releasing.
>Rarity drops back down and steps back in front of you, writing the newest measurements in her notepad, but not before she flutters her eyelids and sultrily glances at you. “Very good, darling. We’re finished with the shirt measurements. Now, if you wouldn’t mind dropping your... pants? Yes, pants.” She gazes at you expectantly.
“I don’t... is this really necessary?”
>“Of course it is, Anon. How am I supposed to get a proper inseam measurement if you don’t?” Rarity’s eyes almost seem to have a language of their own, ‘get on with it’, they seem to say. You shrug your shoulders, unbuckle your belt and take off your pants, laying them next to your shirt on the bed.
“Alright, Rarity. Done.”
>She cocks an eyebrow at you. “What do you mean, ‘done’? You’re still wearing those... shorts? Are they undergarments? Either way, be off with them, will you?”
“Really, Rarity, I think this is fine.”
>“Nonsense. You’re not... you aren’t embarrassed, are you? Come now, Anonymous, you have me at a disadvantage. We ponies are naked all the time! Or haven’t you noticed?” Rarity turns her head slightly and bites on her lower lip. “Here, let me help you...”



>After (somehow) managing to extricate both yourself and Rarity from Twilight’s unexpected intrusion, you accompany the Elements to a light lunch with the princesses before bidding most of them farewell. They leave on a carriage bound for the Canterlot train station, Rarity in particular watching you as the carriage went on its way. Twilight, with a somewhat surly Spike tagging along, guides you to a comfortable little study tucked away in a corner on the first floor of the castle. Clearly this is to be your mutual office.
>“Well, I can honestly say I didn’t expect a lesson in the anatomy of human males so soon, but given the circumstances I couldn’t let the opportunity pass,” Twilight says, a light blush coloring her cheeks.
>If looks could kill, you’re pretty sure Spike would be murdertorturing you rather slowly.
“Spike, buddy, I don’t know what you’re looking at me like that for. Rarity was just taking some measurements for my commission, that’s all. Honest.” It takes all you have to not visibly smirk.
>Spike exaggeratedly sighs, “Whatever, let’s just forget that all happened, okay? Just you remember: Rarity and me? We’re an item. Don’t forget it.”
>Twilight can’t help herself, giggling furiously. “Okay, okay. Let’s *snrk* just get started, alright?”
“Well, Twilight, since you got an object lesson in human anatomy, what say you demonstrate pony anatomy to me? After all, this is supposed to be an information exchange, isn’t it?” You try to hide the thin wisp of a smile creeping onto your face.
>Twilight blushes even more deeply, her purple cheeks turning a deep crimson. “I, uh, I think I have a book... somewhere around here. Just let me look,” she stammers.
>Spike’s eyes lighten from their murderous gaze, they lock onto yours and you get something you least expected in this world: a thumbs up. “C’mon, Twi! There’s no need to find some dusty old book. After all, YOU’RE a pony, and I’ve even got this neat pointer stick,” he taps a long, thin rod on the ground twice, “besides, you got a free show, I think Mr. Anon here deserves to have the favor returned!”
>This little dragon-dude ain’t half bad. You return his thumbs up seconds before Twilight turns around from her book search.
“You’re not... embarrassed, are you Twilight? I mean, aren’t all you ponies naked most of the time anyway?”
>Twilight narrows her eyes at you, searching for any lascivious intent. Fortunately, you’re just as interested in the... scientific aspects as well as those more base desires. “Urgh. Fine, fine, I suppose that won’t be a problem. Very well.” Twilight shakes her head and uses a forehoof to brush her mane. “I suppose I should get started then...”


>The ‘anatomy lesson’ was both entertaining and enlightening. You easily gained as much information as you gave. You learned both the placement of familiar terms, shoulder, chest, abdomen and the like, as well as more specific words such as withers, dock, pastern, gaskin, and coronet. Twilight actually really got into the part, save for when she had to demonstrate mare genitalia, although Spike got a kick out of her discomfort.
>“Alright, Anon, that should be enough I hope,” Twilight states as she sits down.
“Thanks, Twilight. We’re even, now.”
>“Pffftha haha! Oh Twilight, you should’ve seen your face! Ha hahaha! Oh that was great!” Spike’s mood brightened considerably. You’ll just have to take care around any mention of ‘Rarity’ in the future. Poor bastard.
>“Okay, next I think we should go over something that’s important to each of our species: Government. Particularly since you’re a guest of royalty and don’t seem very well accustomed to the subject, I’m curious to learn just what types of governance humans have.”
>Well now, she picked a heavy topic to start with...
>Since you’re not lacking for time, you take a few hours to expound upon a short history of human governments, naturally spending quite a bit of time on monarchy and all its variations. Twilight and Spike are great listeners, as well as active students. They don’t lack for questions, which further draws out your workday. By the time you’re at a good place to stop the sun in dipping below the horizon.
>“...so, and correct me if I’m wrong here, it seems that you’re implying that humans view forms of government as a linear progression?” Twilight questions, her eyes burning with interest.
“In a way, yes. Someone back home even went so far as to claim ‘the end of history’ when Communism fell about twenty years ago. Obviously that wasn’t true, but I digress. Point is, we’ve found many flaws with monarchy, fascism, and any other form of autocracy.”
>“I see.” She scratches her head with a forehoof. “Well here in Equestria, we obviously have a monarchical system... or maybe diarchical? But that’s not all of it. I’m more and more impressed with the similarities between our species. There’s also the Triumvirate, descendants by blood or spirit of the original three rulers of ponykind.”
“So ponies weren’t always united as they seem to be now?”
>Twilight cocks her head to the side. “Of course not. Several thousand years ago, long before the princesses arrived and began their rule, ponies were divided into three separate nations that exhibited considerable interdependence in spite of their rivalry. The earth ponies had, and still have to a degree, an elected body to represent their interests. I guess this would be analogous to your concept of a ‘republic’. Pegasi were strong militarists, somewhat like the... hoon-tas? You had explained to me earlier. That tradition carries on today. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that the majority of guardsponies are pegasi. All male pegasi are obligated to join the Royal Equestrian Army shortly after they reach the age of majority, though this has extended unofficially to pegasi mares as well.”
>She’s correct: almost all of the guards here in the castle are pegasi. It’s nice to have it explained, though.
>Twilight clears her throat and levitates a glass of water to her lips, taking a deep gulp. “As for the unicorns, they were the first to institute a monarchical system in Equestrian history.”
“So how did they come to join together? And what of this ‘Triumvirate’?”
>Twilight looks out the window at the dying rays of the sun. “We’ll pick up on the rest of this tomorrow. I’m impressed with your work today, Anon. We’ll have a good month together, you and I.” Twilight gathers her notes and things and places them neatly into her saddlebag. You wait for the two to get ready and accompany them to dinner.



>The next month passes by rather quickly. The routine you settle into makes sure of that. Wake up, eat, teach and learn until sundown, eat again, read or talk, go to bed. Once a week you get a day off in which you’re accompanied by Twilight or one of the princesses into Canterlot proper, where you get a taste for pony entertainment and nightlife. You establish a pretty good rapport with Celestia, and an even deeper friendship with poor, lonely Luna. All things considered, you ended up having a pretty nice life while you live there.
>But all good things must come to an end, and your time at the castle is almost up.


>The halls of the hive glow an aqua-green from the sun passing through resinous membranes stretched over the porthole windows.
>Chrysalis, belly distended and heavy with eggs, is being carried in a litter from her apartments down to the spawning chambers. Six drones flank the litter, carrying it on their backs.
>The potent cocktail of endorphins and other endogenous chemicals swirls through Chrysalis’s system, boosting her mood considerably. She hums to herself during the journey.
>The broodmothers await her below. They are likely all prepared to accept the eggs of her soon-to-be-born hybrid drones. After that, she must wait another two weeks before being able to deposit the much stronger and well nourished egg destined for birth as a Praetorian. The hive is aware of this, constantly on the lookout for suitable subjects that may be blessed with the ability to birth such a magnificent creature.
>If all this goes well, she thinks to herself, she absolutely must arrange for more meetings with Anonymous. With his help, both in his assigned task and their discrete trysts, the changeling race can once again rise to prominence.
>The litter turns into a downward stretching corridor, a straight shot to the birthing pools below.
>A thin smile forms on Chrysalis’s face as she contemplates the future of her race, with herself at its center. She continues to hum, an old song her own mother sang to her.
>The hive is otherwise silent, all the changelings therein respectfully acknowledging the imminent birth of more siblings.