Kinganon: Alicorn Father

>Your first – and so far only – act as king was to commission a bitchin’ suit of armor for yourself.
>Every other stallion you saw got some ornate gold-plated suit of bullshit to walk around in.
>You were the king, damnit, you weren’t about to be left out!
>Besides, the weird looks the guard stallions give you when you demand to take their place in some random corridor or doorway makes you laugh.
>Today, you had put it on just after breakfast, and still haven’t taken it off, spending much of the intervening time standing behind Celestia and Luna’s thrones as they interacted with the court.
>There was much glowering and placing hands on the pommel of the shiny and entirely ceremonial sword at your side, whenever nobles gave your daughters gruff.
>They’d looked more put off by the fact a stallion was giving them the stinkeye more than the fact they were getting said stinkeye at all.
>The smiths wanted to make something really special for you. Above and beyond. But you don’t have a cutie mark, so a lot of the usual patterns wouldn’t work.
>When they constantly questioned you trying to create a pattern, you got exasperated and told them you’d handle it later.
>Now you have a giant question mark on your chest.
>It takes a constant exertion of willpower to not act like The Riddler. Your next commission should be a green suit.
>It also takes a constant exertion of willpower to not get angry at the stallions you occasionally replace.
>They were mostly useless. As ornamental as the armor you wore.
>No wonder it took four of them to bring you and Terra to the palace.
>Terra, for her part, has been feeling particularly insecure.
>It’s not every day that notions of femininity flip themselves overnight.
>She was quite a capable mare. You never would have settled for less. Her family was a farming family for as far back as they could remember, so she grew up rugged and tough, but that didn’t change the fact she liked to indulge in softer things one in awhile, things that now were unseemly for mares to do.
>Luna claimed that the new standards of mareliness were established on Terra’s implacability and stoicism, being as firm and sturdy as the mountains on her cutie mark.
>That just made the fact some of her other habits, like playing with and styling her fillies’ manes and tails, all the stranger.
>Not that they had hair in the traditional sense, anymore.
>There were quite a few things to get used to for both of you.
>At least the thrones weren’t one of those things.
>Celestia had specifically scaled hers to your stature, though she eventually grew into it anyway.
>You and Terra only sat in them when your family was mostly alone, though. You and Terra were not interested in ruling.
>Luna seemed put out, but you were surprised Celestia understood.
>She’s gotten very mature. You’d never have believed of the two of them, she’d be the one to come together.
>Well, Luna had beat her to it, then got slapped with a thousand-year handicap.
>You’d just come off giving them a stern talking-to about that, in fact. Corporal punishment was off the table when the victim rules a country, but you’d still tanned their hides metaphorically.
>Luna hasn’t met your eyes still.
>Celestia’s ears were still tinged red, though she finally unpinned them when she’d heard the day’s guests of honor had arrived.
>The doors at the end of the hall open up, and you and Terra both straighten on the thrones, Celestia to your left and Luna to Terra’s right.
>Two other alicorns enter, with a white unicorn stallion trailing behind. The older alicorn is pink and the younger purple.
>The latter you recognize from the windows!
“Ah! You must be Twilight Sparkle.”
>You make sure to say it in such a way that your voice boomed through the hall.
>Nice. Very kingly, Anon.
>Twilight starts, wings flinching out, then bows where you stopped her.
>The pink one stops only when Twilight bows, then copies the motion.
“Bah, just get over here. We’re family right? You helped my daughters, and you, you’re my granddaughter right?”
>The two finally reach you and Terra. “I’m just Celestia’s niece,” the pink one said. “Mi Amore Cadenza, but most Equestrians just call me Cadance.”
“Cadence.”
>The pink alicorn screws her face up. “Cadance, Your Majesty.”
“Fine, but only because you’re my granddaughter.”
>Cadance is growing increasingly flustered. ”I’m uh-”
“I heard you! That just means you’re Luna’s.”
>You laugh, loud and jolly.
“Why are all the nobles here so indirect and evasive?”
>Cadance’s confusion progresses past the point she’s capable of speech, leaving her fidgeting in place
>“Father,” Celestia says at your side. “She’s adopted. I adopted her. Just not as my daughter.”
”Why would you do that? Now I have to count you among the evasive nobility.”
>You stand then, descending the stairs from the throne dais three at a time to stop in front of Cadance.
>She looks up at you, craning her head back. Uncertainty replaces confusion in her expression.
>You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist slightly, peering down at her from directly over her head.
>At first she tries to crane her head back further to match, but ends up backing up four or five paces instead.
>That’s not uncertainty on her face anymore.
>Aww, you’re scaring her.
>Can’t scare your grandkids like that, you’re supposed to lavish them with gifts or something.
>With one swift motion, you reach down and scoop her up, hefting her like an oversized cat.
>She’s too shocked to struggle as you arrange the adult alicorn in your arms, turning back for the throne and walking up the stairs again.
>Only once you’re back on Celestia’s throne, with Cadance in your lap, does she stir again.

* * *

>As a princess, you’re ruler of a distant land.
>As an alicorn, you’re master of a domain of the world.
>You’re technically the heir apparent of Equestria too, though you know Twilight’s ascension has de facto overridden that.
>But you’re currently laying down in – or, more accurately, over – the King’s lap like you’re an overgrown foal, mashed against his utterly ridiculous armor.
>And it’s left you speechless.
>Hes currently looking over your head, down at your husband and sister-in-law.
>”And you, mister,” he begins. His voice sounds irritated, almost angry, but you sense none of that from him, no negative emotions at all. “I didn’t give you permission to marry my granddaughter. I’ve yet to see if you’re suitable. We’re going to have a chat later, you and I.”
>Twilight tries to object. ”Your Majesty, is that really-”
>Her objection, like any effort to stop this mad king, is in vain. “If she’s adopted, my daughters are her parental figures, and neither of them are married. That makes me the man responsible for her. I take that seriously.”
>And, strange as it may sound, he really does. He has just met you, but already he loves you. When you first walked in, when he first saw you, realized who you were, you thought he loved what you were. This close, you can tell it’s not that. Sure he loves you because you’re family, but he loves you.
>How does that even work?
>Celestia’s love for you was always rooted in protectiveness and respect. As much as you felt she cared for you – and she cared for you a great deal – it was never as a parent. She didn’t give birth to you. You were not her child.
>This. Man. Does. Not. Care.
>A stallion’s capacity to cherish and adore children never ceases to amaze you.
>King Anonymous’ capacity to love his own – whoever that turns out to be – must have informed a stallion’s place during Equestria’s founding as much as Queen Terra’s rugged capability informed a mare’s role. There’s no other explanation for how ably he fits with modern stallions in that regard, time-displaced as he is.
>It’s still a little weird he’s scolding your husband like he is. Stallions usually take a less direct route to determine a match’s suitability.
>He did say he didn’t like how evasive nobles acted.
>Live what you preach, you guess.
>You lift your head up and look down at Shining Armor, giving him you’re best helpless expression, then splay and tilt your wings in a gesture of resignation. ‘Nothing to be done about this.’
>Twilight catches the motion, but you know she doesn’t know a pegasi’s sign language. Her brother had your whole courtship to get used to it.
>The unicorn knows more than the one with wings. That’s a weird realization to have, especially now.
>Today is a weird day in general.
>You can’t bring yourself to care about the strangeness, bathing as you are in the love you’re presently surrounded with.
>”And you!” Anon carries his mock indignation through addressing Twilight, but he breaks out a smile. “Come up here.”
>”Your Majesty, I’m not getting in your lap.”
>You stifle a laugh when you realize you’d be laughing at yourself. You’ll get Twilight back for that.
>Eventually.
>Maybe. Your heart isn’t in it.
>Can you get drunk on love? You’ve experienced some very interesting feedback effects with Shining before, but you’d always chalked that up to, ah, a different relevant act.
>With your husband and – you’ll acquiesce to his insistence – your grandfather both here, you’re subjected to it on two fronts, let alone Celestia right behind you.
>Focus, mare!
>Twilight’s up on the dais now standing before and between the two thrones. She’s looking at Queen Terra; Anon is, for once, silent.
>”We heard what you did for Celestia and Luna,” the Queen said. “We can’t thank you enough.”
>Is that shame you feel, from the two named princesses?
>Oh, you have a feeling you know what happened earlier today. Lovedrunk you might be, but you’re not dumb.
>”I only did what I had to, Your Majesty.”
>”And we heard of your exploits too,” the Queen said, turning to you. You felt like melting under her gaze, with all the feeling she put into it. “Very impressive.”
>”We’re proud to have you with us!” Anon’s voice boomed through the hall again, a wall of sound powerful enough to almost be solid. It’s remarkably similar to that commanding tone Celestia and Luna sometimes use.
>When the sound reverberates, you can feel his amusement. All his regal affectations amuse him. In his heart he’s a simple man playing a role he’s ill-suited to but determined to enjoy.
>Such a deep love for life is something you find you can love in him.
>You should nurture that. Return the love he’s showing you.
>”As guests?” Twilight says, confusion plain. “Your Majesty, I’m hardly a guest-”
>”No, as family! You’re both alicorns. I’m the father of alicorns, and no, I don’t care how they got that way. You and Cadance-” You jump when he pats your side ”-are my family too.”
>You want to cringe away from what you’re afraid is the inevitable emotional reaction from Celestia and Luna at such a proclamation. But instead of jealousy, they’re happy.
>Silly of you to worry; Celestia had always accepted you, and Twilight has always been close.
>His statement means a lot more to you.
>You never had a father.
>You start to object again. You’re just an orphan. You have no parents. No, he can’t be your grandfather, he’s not related to you. Anything your mind reaches for.
>But the objections die in your throat. They don’t make any sense. Just say the plain fact, that should be enough.
>You turn to look up at him.
“Your Majesty, I don’t-”
>”Don’t what? Think that’s proper? I don’t care what magic gave you and Twilight what my daughters were born with, but I don’t care. Now you’ve got family, and we’re going to treat you like it, so drop the titles. If you must, consider it a humble farmer’s hospitality.”
>You’d never thought drowning could be a pleasant sensation, but drowning in love is something you could get used to.

* * *

>Sometimes, reality had a way of reminding you that it doesn’t make sense.
>The world is governed by harmony. Heck, you’re harmony’s current avatar. Harmony implies an orderliness, a synchronicity.
>There is nothing orderly about the scene you find yourself a part of.
>An earth pony sits on Princess Luna’s throne. By your reckoning, an earth pony is the opposite of an alicorn, at least in basic physical traits.
>The thing on Celestia’s throne isn’t even a pony at all.
>Princes Cadance is sitting in his lap, looking for all the world like she’s about to fall asleep. By her expression, she’s already deep into a particularly pleasant dream.
>Your brother’s behind you, and you know for all the faux vitriol thrown his way, he’s making very good use of his excellent poker face to hide a grin.
>Not like he could see King Anon as a threat to his position at Cadance’s side, with the King talking up the fact she is – in a really stretched and twisted reading of multiple technicalities, as far as you’re concerned – his granddaughter.
>And he just put you on that same level.
>Sure, Celestia probably sees you as one of her own, she’s always given her personal students a degree of attention bordering on the familial
>And sure, you are already a princess, and he’s once more technically correct in a tortured sense about being the father of princesses.
>But this is just ridiculous.
>As ridiculous as his armor. What does that question mark even mean?
>As ridiculous as the statement he just made.
”You’re anything but humble farmers, Your Maj-”
>”Hey, what did I just say about titles?”
“Ah, sorry. I’m just wondering when you’ll get used to your, uh, your station. Sir.”
>He narrows his eyes at your last word, but then grins. “I’m where I want to be. I’m what I want to be. Why would I ever want to get used to something I’m not?”
“What you are is the king.”
>He just shrugs at this, as if it means nothing but the breeze. “Then for my second act as king, I’ll decree I can act as unkingly as I please.”
>Skies above, this whole situation is obnoxious
>But, well, he is the king. What can you do?
>You can grin and shake it off.
>So you do.
“Alright, Your Majesty.”
>When he frowns at you, you just laugh.
>He laughs too, loud and long, startling Cadance to alertness on his lap.
>”That’s more like it,” he finally says. “I like you already.”
“Honest question; have you ever met a pony you didn’t like?”
>He opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it again, frowning once more. “Uh. I don’t know. Does Discord count as a pony?”
“No, and I think you and he have more in common now than then.”
>Oh, that expression, that’s probably genuine anger.
“Did… did they not tell you? We reformed him. No longer terrorizing the countryside. He’s settled down with a friend of mine on the edge of the Everfree, tending to animals with her.”
>His dark expression doesn’t lighten much until he finally sighs and shakes his head. “Using the same power you helped Luna with, I imagine. I suppose I can’t complain then. If he ever acts up again, though, I’m going to show him this sword isn’t just for show.”
“That sword is definitely just for show.”
>That stops him just before he can speak again, expression comical in how close he was to doing so. Then, a resigned smile. “Well, he doesn’t have to know that. Can’t get anything by you, huh? I’d expect no less from my daughter’s prized student.”
>You have to resist the urge to bow.
“Everything I know is thanks to her, K- uh, Anonymous.”
>“Such a fast learner, too! We’ll have to work on shaving a couple syllables off that, next. If you’re such a scholar, riddle me this-” and suddenly he’s grinning, as if that line was the height of hilarity to him “-why does everyone want to treat us like this? It can’t just be our daughters’ proclamations. We’re still just time-bent country hillbillies, at the end of the day.”
>You blink several times, before falling back to that voice you only use when reciting something you’ve read. First, you look at Terra.
“The mare who always had the right words, which she only spoke precisely at the proper time. Who could do anything she deigned to set her sights on, yet modest enough to do little, only what was necessary really. Never a complaint. Always understanding. Eager to listen if listening was needed, and eager to speak if speaking was required. Always first to jump to any task that needed doing. A mare who didn’t see a quiet farming life as a waste of her prodigious talents, but a proper role for her in her quest to do no more – to do no less! – than raise the fillies who would found a nation. Now-living proof that anything can be accomplished if one’s mind is put to it.”
>Then you look back to Anon.
“The man whose boundless energy and devotion made him one who would love the world, if only the world gave him a chance. Displaced from a faraway land and left with nothing, who built himself up from that nothing into a model father figure no matter how difficult he found that transformation, and he was honest about that difficulty. Who would then so willingly give it all again for the family he’d found and made. Who, it turns out, had been displaced a second time from everything he’d loved and held dear, again with nothing more than the mare he loved. Salvation provided by the seeds he’d sewn over a thousand years prior. Now-living proof that all you do comes back to you in the end.”
>Alright, so you had to update the passages in light of recent events. Your history teacher would forgive you.
>Anon and Terra look to their children. “That’s quite a pedestal you’ve put us on,” the latter says to Luna quietly.
“With respect to all involved, you’ve earned it. I know it’s probably hagiographic, but you raised the Princesses. Seeing who they’ve become, doesn’t that mean you did a good job?”
>Anon looks away from Celestia to an unknown point on the wall behind you, then down to Cadance in his lap, who would look sound asleep if she wasn’t occasionally swaying ever so slightly.
>You just realized he’s petting her like a cat.
>Tartarus’ sake, man, give the mare some dignity.
>You’re preoccupied enough with the sight that you didn’t catch his reply, quiet and mumbled as it was, but it draws both Terra and Celestia’s attention, and whatever feeling he’d attached to it brings Cadance’s lidded eyes up towards him.
>”Love, we can get the record straight later. Take the compliment,” Terra says, tone gentle.
>”Yeah,” Anon says, firmer. “Alright. Fine. But I’m not about to lead this country into some sort of golden age.”
“That would be Terra’s job, technically.”
>Anon dismisses your comment with a wave. “Yeah, only technically.”
“You were leaning on technicalities a lot, just a few moments ago. The bit about us being family?”
>”I meant that!”
>You can’t help but laugh at his forceful declaration.
“Alright, alright! But can you at least give Cadance some space? I don’t think she’s, uh, used to, er, that sort of attention.”
>Your once-foalsitter mumbles something that, unlike Anon’s prior utterance, it seems nopony catches.
>Wait, are those tears on her cheeks?