Ch: 172 My Pony, Get On It…

When the little family re-convened in the world of dreams, the strange temple had vanished back to the underside of the island.

“I banished him back under,” Gary said gently, to the kids. “Angry Gary has a standing invitation so if he shows up we need to be good ok? He can be scary, but that’s not his fault.” Real Gary sank onto a mushroom cushion on the lawn and smiled. “I gotta do some wandering around my insides for a while guys, I gotta get part of me roped in.”

Shai ruffled his hair on the way past. “Aye, find yer wayward parts boy, I dinnae like that other one of thee.” She sighed happily. “Seeing younger Gary, I do wonder anew how ye did come to me unspoilt…” A sweet lingering kiss landed on his lips, washing him in the warmth and scent of her.

“But then, sweet Shai hae always been true to a type.” She cooed, before collecting the kids and deities and heading inside.

#

The underside of his island was progressing nicely, becoming a wild, pacific northwest rainforest of sequoias, ferns and mossy stones. Only the temple remained unchanged. He could feel Angry Gary, somewhere in the woods, being angry at the lack of songbirds.

“All right dude, show yourself. If I have to come in after you we are gonna have more than words. Don’t make this rougher than it has to be.” He waited for more than long enough and received no response. “The hard way it is.”

He strolled up the wide, basalt steps, passing a pair of cracked and leaning obelisks of obsidian and granite, inscribed with abstract, spiraling patterns. The temple yard was a cemetery, of course. Weeping statuary, tombstones and mausoleums crowded the dry, dusty place, despite the rapidly growing wild forest outside.

The only trees were long dead and barren, as were the creeping vines and scraggly thorn bushes pushing up from between the stone pavers. Gary stomped up to the vast, moldering crypt entrance, because naturally… and shoved one of the doors open with a shuddering crash.

He stormed past the reaching shadows and creepy sepulchers with leering, ravenous, stone carved faces in his own image, whose accusing eyes followed his progress. “Wow, I really am an asshole…” He muttered aloud.

Shambling corpses came stumbling into the nave; mummified, wetly rotting or nearly skeletal, they filled the temple like worshipers at service, rising from their pews to block his passage. “You aren’t even good at this…” He snapped at the undead horde.

He shook his head sadly and kept walking, passing through the near endless legion of corpses with a sigh. They couldn’t halt or even impede his journey to the altar, which was a coffin of course. Gary kicked the black lacquered, gold mounted box with a hobnailed boot conjured just for the occasion.

“Wake up Count Crapula, we’re doing this now.” He kicked the box a few more times, then reached down and tore off the lid entirely.

He lay there, dressed in undertaker’s finery, with his crisp, black suit and ribbon tie neatly arranged. His stovepipe hat sat in a little coffin shaped cubby built just for it… that was a nice detail.

“You can’t play dead with me bro…” He grumbled at his well dressed doppelganger; that too, got no result. “Ok, maybe I’ll redecorate, while you have a nap.”

Slowly, starting from Gary’s feet, grass began to sprout up from among the flagstones of the floor. The ceiling evaporated into a cloud of dust, taking a truly disturbing fresco with it. “Gary, the revenant king, bringing darkness to the world? Receiving the adulation of the undead masses…? You suck, let’s try something more fun...”

Within a few minutes the temple had been reduced to a ring of standing stones, in bright colored marble and granite in all the varied hues of pink, blue, golden and violet. They shimmered with an inner light and whimsey which made even the humble dandelions growing around their feet seem magnificent and elegantly placed.

“Ahh, much better.” He sighed, looking over the small plain of waving grasses and wildflowers. Turning back to his cute standing stones, the coffin had become a simple stone slab box, primitive and ill fitted, lacking even a lid.

Moss and flowering vines crawled over the stones and box, draping them in gently nodding trumpet blooms in a thousand shades of pink and red.

Gary peered over the edge at himself, still resting there, pretending to be a corpse. “It doesn’t have to be this way…” Gary muttered as the corpse’s undertaker suit became a spangled white pair of booty shorts and a white mesh tanktop.

His shoes transformed into white leather platform thigh highs, while the stovepipe hat reinvented itself into a greek fisherman’s cap with silver braid and mother of pearl sequins.

“You will listen, you will follow my lead and you will stop trying to influence me into becoming you. Otherwise, I can get rough. You know I’ll do whatever it takes.” He turned away and left the circle of gleaming stones.

“Marduk said Eponna was hanging around, she's the patron goddess of a friend of mine, so she’s gonna be chilling down here with you and Ragy. Don’t make me come down looking for you again, Gray. I’ll do more than start a pony party.”

As he left, a herd of colorful ponies came stampeding down from above, running on an impermanent road, formed from the will of the equine goddess at their head.

Tall and elegant, her mane and tail were flowing, radiant nebulae and twinkling stars, while her gleaming, midnight blue body shone from within. Behind her came the sacred herd, in all their colorful splendor.

Some had wings, others horns, while more were unadorned, beyond the adorable ‘brands’ on each equine rump. They landed and began roaming the lovely forest and meadow, prancing with glee and whinnying their joy into the ether.

Gary grunted with pleased satisfaction. “Friendship is Magic, buddy… you and Ragy need to learn that lesson together.”

#

“Patience is a difficult lesson to learn, my young friends…” Otho murmured from the advocate’s seat, at the front of the defendant’s box. Gary, Shai, Liam and Ivy were gathered there, with a crowd of orphans filling most of the rest of the gallery.

The plaintiff’s box remained empty, as did the other advocate’s chair. The judicial bench was also vacant, Tony stood impassively, simply repeating his script when asked for details.

“There has been a delay, the plaintiff’s advocate is in consultation with his grace, duke Mubarak.” Tony replied, firmly, every time.

“It’s been like two hours…” Gary grumbled softly, again.

#

“I fail to see why the withdrawal of our complaint is problematic, your grace… we simply wish to drop this suit and seek to file in another venue.” Winthrop Biddleman was the kind of balding, bearded guy that made it look good. His tonsure of well groomed hair led into a full, but carefully trimmed beard and a very fine mustache. Abed approved on principle…

“The original complaint has festered for weeks, with no further evidence having been provided by this… lord Angbold. If the Sweet tooth Guild had been allowed to operate during this period, I might consider allowing a venue change…” He shook his darkly handsome head side to side slowly in disappointment.

“The complainant demanded that their sales charter be suspended ‘pending investigation of serious impropriety’... that is a direct quote from the original filing. The only filing made by your guild or its agents, I might add.”

Abed rapped his knuckles sharply on the tea table in the small parlor he had commandeered. “Request denied. Do you have any further motions or evidence to present before we begin?”

“No, your grace…” Winthrop restrained himself very carefully, but Abed noticed a bit of a droop in his ‘stache that had not been present at the start of the meeting.

“Excellent, now tell me why this lord Angbold did not come to press his case personally?” Abed demanded gently, smiling with unconcealed mirth.

“He chose this venue, rather than attempting to file suit in his own lord’s land… now he is absent, save a request for a venue change. This bodes ill for your case, barring a good reason for his absence.”

Watching Winthrop wilt further was a treat; the merchant lords seldom suffered losses when facing common people and they knew it. Seeing that surety slip from beneath his feet like a poorly secured rug, warmed the duke’s heart.

“Apologies, your grace… Apprentice Angbold has been reassigned to cacao processing duties, pending his expulsion from the guild for gross incompetence.” He answered sheepishly.

“Bit late for that, from what the trade association agent reports… but I digress, let’s go and get this farce over with.” The ‘poor’ merchant lord was sweating out his finery now, face shining like a new copper bit, as he steamed over his collar of gold embroidery.

#

The side door opened and a merchant lord came bustling in, looking shiny and prosperous in elaborate gold stitched robes and sandals of golden braid. He took his seat in the advocate’s chair and settled with an air of absolute comportment and control.

He turned his eyes on Otho and smiled kindly, as though to a poor relation, come begging in hard times.

“Before his grace, the judge enters, I have been authorized to buy your operations out… regardless of the outcome of this suit. We offer one silver moon and three gold moons for the entire business, a princely sum indeed.” He smiled again, savoring his benevolence and generosity to the unfortunate. “But only if you agree now. Decide quickly, time marches apace.”

He placed the large coins on the plaintiff’s desk with a loud clack, one at a time.

“Oh, yes, that is a fine offer… I am only an advocate, however. It is these young people behind me, whom you must convince.” Otho replied with a smile.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

A susurrus passed through the gallery at the lord’s offer, few ever saw a gold mark in their lives, forget a single gold moon. A silver moon was the stuff of legends, traded between great lords with pomp and circumstance at occasions of state.

“We decline.” Ivy said sharply.

“Decline.” Shai snarled at the lord.

“We decline your offer.” Liam answered smoothly. Gary just sat there smiling mildly and shook his head, silently.

At that moment, Tony thumped the butt of his staff on the tiles twice. “All rise, His Grace, Duke Abed Mubarak of Shiraz is presiding.”

“Be seated, this court is now under the eyes of Order.” Tony announced, as the duke planted his noble tush. A hush settled over the watchers as the sense of a being greater than the human mind could hope to encompass washed through the room.

Gary’s eyes opened wide when the sensation hit him, jarring his soul to its foundations. Tony and duke Abed reacted similarly an instant later, as something echoed through the room, bouncing around for a long moment.

“Gary Ward, please exit this courtroom… your advocate and cohort may remain.” Tony boomed loudly, shaking the room.

Gary stood and stalked out, fuming under the eyes of the entire palace and most of the orphanage. He totally didn’t slam the door… so he went back and gave it a good swing or two.

He sank onto the bench by the portal and started to giggle to himself in glee. He calmed himself before weirding out too many palace people with his mad chuckle of wicked delight. He did pull a few cushions, a tea table and a pot of tea out of his hiney and make himself comfortable in the wide hallway. Mistress Shenko, the gray haired head of household staff fixed her eye on his layabout form and was displeased.

Each time ‘the Iron Maiden’ came by she cast a disparaging and disappointed look, before longingly gazing at the ducal guard stationed nearby. She made it clear that her fondest wish was for him to do something to warrant having him thrown out bodily.

Naturally, Gary responded by redecorating further. A sumptuous rug appeared under his feet, as did a stack of enticing treats, piled high on the tea table for any passersby to take.

He refilled his table as it emptied, putting out brownies and cookies, shortbread and small cakes. Ivy’s finest work was next, small petis-fours bearing delicate floral decorations drawn in bright fruit puree colors and chocolate, both white and dark.

Those were an experiment, a practice run for Jaspreet’s wedding reception. Disturbing the palace with the samples was a fine trial and made Shenko’s tightly coiled bun seem to shimmer with heat haze.

“A twofer!” He mumbled to himself, with his feet up, while reading that naughty shepherd book with the lurid cover, just for kicks. The tale of a sexually adventurous noblewoman seducing an innocent young shepherd lad on a lonely hillside was really not too badly written.

“…could use a few more etchings.” He muttered loudly enough for the woman to notice his literature choice.

“In some lands… the mere possession of a book by a commoner is sufficient evidence of theft for the thief to be held until the loss is discovered by the victim…” She hissed coldly.

“Is this one of those lands?” Gary asked, while offering her a tray of dainty sweets.

“No.” She answered, with deep disappointment. “In the interest of good taste, please dispose of your… smut.”

“Absolutely, mistress Shenko, I will happily comply…” He answered, tracking her eyes with his tray of treats. She did her best to address the madman, without being distracted by those bright and pretty little jewels of cake and confectionery…

He vanished the offending book and replaced it with a small tray of chocolate bonbons. “Cordial Cherries, my friend Ivy figured out how to make them last week…” He said quietly.

“The first batch just finished. A friend of ours induced the fruit early, just for the wedding…” He whispered, as a sweet summery aroma wafted over the corridor.

“Only the creator and lady Jaspreet have tried them as yet…”

“Gary, stop teasing the staff, mistress Shenko, Gary’s offer is genuine and I will indulge with you, if you would, as a favor to me…”

Celeste’s golden voice of matronly and warm command shattered the Iron Maiden, reducing her to a blushing, curtseying girl. Gary felt it wash over him too, a subtle gift of influence that was polite, but not aggressive.

“By all means duchess, I watched lady Jaspreet and the chef taste them… their commentary on the flavor was difficult to understand, because of the moaning.” Gary said, after they had bitten into their dark, gleaming candies.

He was a gentleman, born and bred, so he helped the staggered ladies into his comfy little nest and set them up with blankets for the recovery phase.

“Those pack a kick… the cherries were preserved in sugar wasp brandy… and the cherries are magical, they’re dryad grown.” He said with a naughty wink to duke Leopold.

“Boy, what did you give my wife and mistress Shenko?” He asked not too gently as he strode up.

“Just the latest creation from the Sweet Tooth Guild, I wonder if they work the same on men…” He mumbled, holding his small tray out to the duke.

“You aren’t having any?” Leo asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“I can’t, I’m driving.” He said with a grin. “They have a little intoxicating nectar in them. I still have to cultivate a little tonight.” He smiled and held out his tray a little more insistently. “Buy the ticket, take the ride.”

#

A few minutes later the doors opened and his friends came tumbling out in an excited babble of chattering voices. They fell silent when they spotted Shenko and prepared themselves for a violent shushing… Instead she sat there, smiling pleasantly at the passing staff and petitioners.

The duke and duchess sat on either side of the formidable woman, with a similar smile of pleased and amused entertainment on their faces.

“Gary, what did you do?” Liam asked, while Ivy giggled guiltily.

“That’s not important right now, how did you do?” He fired back.

“It could have been better, three weeks ago, the Benevolent Society of Patissiers and Chocolatiers of Port Clement had significant assets, now we only own the name and the rights to their seat on the trade council…” Ivy said smugly and with a little vicious glee.

“I’m going to use that as a hammer and wedge to crack them all the way open. I want their children to wear rags in the gutter…”

“Whoa there Ives… we just need to beat them, proportionality, my dear…” Shai whacked him behind the head mid speech, but he carried on like a trooper.

“...and that’s why Shai is the smartest and best person to make those decisions, while I shut up and play the music.”

Shai looked to her slapping hand, struck with awe at this new power. “Iron rank be formidable indeed!”

Blessing of the Hearthmistress: Fae boon, multiple effects, current effect:

Baka!: You may use your aura of hospitality and confidence, to verbally influence the emotions of others.

Hostile or neutral entities may resist, scaled against: Range, intent, rank, Will, Mind, Animus, and the subject’s own interests.

Friendly or allied targets may be affected through non verbal communication and may choose to resist.

“Nice one Shai.” Liam said softly, as they guided the boy out of the palace. “Can you keep him compliant longer?”

She reached out and whacked Liam behind the ear as well. “Absolutely, I was an idiot to ask.” He answered her unspoken demand.

“Excellent, ye will be civilized boys soon enough.” She said with a smile.

#

“Ooo, Shai used her new paddlin power on the boys…” Amy cooed softly, when the crew came back to the inn. “She can spank you with her mind now… but she still never actually does it… at least not to us.” She corrected, when Shai refreshed her casting on the pair of them.

“Tis handy, these ‘cooldown timers’… I hae been using them fer crafts and in the kitchen too.” She told Ivy, while herding the boys inside.

“Interesting… but you still can’t enchant things like he does?” She asked, filled with a scholar’s glee at learning new things.

“Nae, me soul be intact, an me mind unbroken, that be the heart of it, he kin pour his intent an very soul intae his workings…I do still struggle there. Wi time though, perhaps.”

She tucked her boy into the sofa by the fire for a nap and propped Liam up under a tree, near the bath.

“Ahh, good boys!” She sighed as the kids ran up giggling.

“That was mean to Gary.” Wilford said firmly.

“Nae, Wilford me dear, ‘tis a thing of ours… He does let me buffet him about, fer he knows, ‘tis me love language…” Shai said softly to her serious little lad. “Ye mae understand, someday.” She added with a wicked grin.

“Angie says we should ‘speak mildly, to those whose hearts we hold dear’.” Amy retorted, while both boys nodded.

“An when did she an thee become so wise in the ways of love, my dears?” Shai asked, scooping all three wriggling babes up in her arms and heading for the bath.

“Fer surely ye do make much sense. I shall bathe thee an put thee down fer yer naps… ere I make it up to him.”

#

Flushed with victory, Ivy caught Tallum in the workshop and climbed him like a tree. “Come on lover… we’re celebrating.” She whispered in his ear, before nibbling on the sensitive lobe.

“No fair, my hands are all dirty!” He moaned and twitched involuntarily, while struggling not to dislodge his beautiful little lamprey. She giggled and tried harder, working to get herself bucked from her excited mount.

#

A loud crash from the open workshop shutters woke Liam, who was buried under three dryads and Tawny, all snuggled together under a blanket. He heard Tallum and Ivy laughing and complaining from the workshop, so everything was fine.

He drifted back into his pleasant, leafy dream of an island paradise, where he and Tawny ran free beneath the trees and among brightly polished standing stones that gleamed in the warm starlight and moonglow.

Beside, among and around them, frolicked colorful horses and ponies of all kinds; unicorns, winged horses, some with both horns and wings, others with neither, in all the hues of a rainbow and more.

#

Gary woke in the promised land, his face firmly nestled between Shai’s boobs. Caught in the orbit of those pearly, twin moons he lingered, half awake and glorying in his comfortable little Lagrange Point. They floated in the private pool together, blessedly alone and at peace.

“I do pummel thee perhaps too much, love of mine, though ye never do complain of it… I worry that there be summat troublesome in it.” She said softly.

“Suren a caress be finer than a blow, fer tae influence thee my way.”

Gary’s voice came drifting up, muffled by boobs, but audible. “I dunno, some of your blows really do the… job…!” He giggled foolishly and snuggled deeper in.

“Fie, I did open me mouth an walk face first intae that one…” He started giggling again, so she quickly added:

“...an that one too, ye filthy minded wretch, that I do love.”

“I can’t believe we won the case…” He marveled, still lost in his cathedral of pale skin and faint freckles. “I mean, he was trash and so was his candy, but to actually win outright…”

Her boy sighed blissfully somewhere near her heart. “That’s got to be as rare as finding a girl that will let me play ear games with her boobs.”

He shook his head in wonder and to tickle his ears with her nipples… “It’s a legit kink, look it up… don’t look at me like that.”

“Ye kinnae even see me looking at thee.” She whispered fondly to his scalp and naughty, blushing ears.

#

Maple, Willow, Solange, Plumeria, Sequoia, Birch, Pine and Alder were all clustered together in a single grove, watching Eponna’s children gambol and frisk about.

“Was this any part of the plan?” Hemlock asked from nearby, leaning over to converse with the understory as well.

Solange sighed and shook her head. “Burn me for charcoal if I understand this. Whatever grows from this boy, blooms strangely. We will not know more, until it fruits.”

“Has Beast spoken on this to any?” Fig asked sweetly.

“That one will reveal his plans when it is time, and not a moment before.” Sequoia answered, with a frustrated shake of her mighty boughs.

Marduk and Thirp slipped through that jarring dislocation and appeared among the dryads with a faint musical chord. “Oh! So many!” Marduk cried happily. “We only felt the arrival of someone, not who, or how many… Welcome to the underside of Gary…”

“I was invited, Lightbringer.” Eponna chuffed behind him, nuzzling his curls fondly. “The ShadowMounted is strange and welcoming… My children have been whispering of him for a while.” She shook herself into a human form, her voluptuous curves hidden only by her shimmering mane, wound into a clinging gown of starry night.

“They say the time comes that I should run the plains and meadows of home again. I would linger beneath your leaves, sisters… even if we all spiral to the end together.”

“Oh, dear…” Solange muttered. “You didn’t receive our reports?”

“I am no scholar, to lose myself in pages and books…” Eponna began, huffing with indignity.

“It was all there, in our reports…” Maple complained to the goddess.

“You understand, I am the goddess of horses, swiftness in motion and the wind over the plain….” She whinnied lamely.

“Heedless movement is wasted movement. You really should have read the documents…” Sequoia added.

“Gods cursed trees, why do you love paperwork so much? Do you know what it’s even made of?” She demanded.

“No, actually.” Poplar mused. “Now I’m curious…”

“I’ve always found a certain affinity and familiarity for books and papers..” Hemlock said happily.

“Many of my non-fruiting kin dwelt in human libraries and offices…” Fig murmured. “Even now I remember the whirr of the copier and the scent of toner, vying with bad breakroom coffee and the fish someone microwaved last week.”

“Very well. Maple, be a dear and find out for me, what exactly is paper made from...” Solange said firmly, as self appointed leader.

“That will take only a moment, lord Marduk has been organizing his knowledge of such things lately… where is he?” Maple wondered, as she looked around for the suddenly absent deities.

#

“So, we avoid the dryads for a few centuries, while they cool off.” Marduk said, when they landed at Gary’s house. “We perhaps did not think deeply enough, before enlisting dryads in our book scheme.”

“You should scold Eponna fiercely, when you meet her again.” Thirp said firmly. “And you will meet her again, my friend. She was impressed by the outline of your backside… most mammals find that a positive attribute.”

Marduk blushed a golden and rosy hue, as a sparkling halo of divine angst shimmered above his head. “She has always been so… primal and cute…”

#