Princesses of Equestria

Chapter 33: Coronation

Dear heavens, Fluttershy thought numbly. What have I unleashed?

Fluttershy's menagerie had gained significant fame over the years. Mayor Mare had wanted to make it a tourist attraction, but out of respect for Fluttershy's privacy, Ponyville's head politician mandated that curious visitors only be allowed on Fluttershy's premises with her own express permission. This was partially because Fluttershy's nerves were delicate at the best of times, but mainly because she owned the only known domesticated cockatrices and bear in Equestria.

Add to them the mice, weasels, ferrets, beavers, raccoons, squirrels, ducks, magpies, woodpeckers, flamingoes, rabbits and kangaroos, and you got a cottage with more fauna than many national zoos. Combined.

Even better, Fluttershy's menagerie was a zoo without walls, glass, or cages. There were Limits, with a capital L, established firmly by Fluttershy herself for each new addition to fold, but they were mental barriers, not physical ones.

Many a visiting tourist, animal behavior specialist, veterinarian and zookeeper had walked away from Fluttershy's cottage astounded and jealous in equal measure. How did she do it? How did she keep such a diverse range of critters—herbivores and carnivores alike, including several natural enemies—under one roof without any ... you know.

Incidents?

"Um. I, um. I guess I just show them how much I care and, um. How important it is to care about others," Fluttershy had once told a particularly insistent interviewer, before nearly fainting from embarrassment at all the attention.

People made such a fuss about what she did, it was very strange! There had been a great deal of offers, several quite generous, for Fluttershy's particular set of fauna caring skills. Professional vets, trainers, gamekeepers and animal performers; the ringmaster of Cirque du Fantastique: Equestria's Finest Mythical Beast Circus, had written a two million bit contract on the spot when he learned that Fluttershy could Stare down an adult cockatrice.

She'd politely refused, of course. Fluttershy liked living in Ponyville, and was perfectly happy with the earnings she made from local commissions, thank you very much. She'd still helped the ringmaster's manticore with the sprained wing, though. And that Manehattan vet's boa who'd swallowed a dragon egg. And the monkey trainer whose simian had gone deaf from cymbal clashing. And ...

Well. There was a reason why Fluttershy bore the Element of Kindness. It radiated from her, constant and pure as summer sunlight, attracting and soothing virtually every animal she met and, in short order, befriended. Provided they knew their Limits:

No Messes Indoors. No Big Noises During Sleepy Time. Be Respectful of Boundaries. No Eating What Isn't Yours. No Biting. No Scratching.

And above all else, upon pain of an instant Stare into the soul ... Absolutely No Fighting Allowed.

Fluttershy's Stare was as legendary as Captain Spitfire's drill sergeant bark, if not more so. For the entire lifespan of her menagerie, Fluttershy had indeed allowed Absolutely No Fighting.

Until today.

"Aagh! Infernal creatures! Get off me!" Armonia shrieked, to no avail whatsoever. The whole menagerie laid into her. Raccoons clawed, gummy bit, squirrels gnawed. Ducks snapped, magpies swooped, woodpeckers pecked. Rabbits kicked, kangaroos jump kicked. Cockatrices glared, the bear swiped.

Discord himself couldn't have stirred up more Pandemonium.

"Was I ... a good friend?"

Fluttershy's vision blurred, then went red hot. For a seething moment, she wanted her menagerie to eat Armonia alive. They were certainly making a good go of it.