Title:           House of Horses (Part 2)
Author:          InstantCoffee
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/tZ3TYAKn
First Edit:      Sunday 23rd of November 2014 12:34:40 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Sunday 13th of March 2016 03:04:51 AM CDT

>Do you know what's so interesting about Equestria's ruling leaders? It's not that it's a matriarchy, or that the leaders are likely immortal.
>What's fascinating is how they have managed to peacefully and collectively lead their people for thousands of years. Back on Earth, the ones in charge could never seem to agree on a single goal during their much shorter times in office. One would propose a bill to be passed, and in order for that bill to reach the floor and come to a vote, various little changes would need to be applied, chipping away at the bill bit by bit. By the time the process is done, the bill is nothing more than a mere shell of what it once was, a steaming pile of utterly useless garbage.
>Yet at end of the day, the politicians would pat each other on the back for a job well done and celebrate over an expensive dinner that costs more than most people's yearly salary.
>Such is the flaw of a democracy. Having only a few people who dictate the law is much more efficient, although it places the people entirely at the mercy of the ruling class.
>Then again, the same applies to a so-called "democracy." It's just a little more subtle.
>"How's your new job, Anonymous?"
>Sitting directly across from you is Princess Celestia, holding a cup of tea with her magic. She's staring at you with those large, kind eyes of hers. It's hard to decide if that look is sincere or calculated, but you should be able to find out in the near future, since you're likely going to be spending more time with her as Head Chair.
"Oh, it's been very rewarding, Your Highness."
>"That's good to hear. And please, call me 'Celestia.'"
>Dropping the formalities? That's disarming.
"I'm afraid I respect your position too much to do so, Princess."
>She smiles and give a slight chuckle.
>"Very well."
>You pick up your own cup and take a sip of the herbal tea.
"How is Princess Twilight holding up?"
>Her smile falters a bit, a look of concern flashing across her face.
>"Well, she's not quite herself as of late. The incident at the summit took a lot out of her. Hopefully she will make a fully recovery soon enough."
"I'm sure she will. She's one of the strongest beings I've ever had the privilege to meet."
>She gently sets the cup down and wipes her mouth with a napkin.
>"Now. Enough with the pleasantries. Let's talk about the annual budget."
"Of course."
 
>It's now night, and you're sitting across from none other than Princess Luna. She's quite different from her sister. More...rough around the edges. But you like rough. It's a sign of honesty, if anything. After all, who do you think people would trust more? Someone in a dapper suit and straight posture who extends his hand for a traditional handshake, or someone in casual attire who pulls you in for a bear hug and a friendly slap on the back?
"How are you faring, Princess Luna?"
>"I'm fine, thanks. But please, just call me 'Luna.'"
>Maybe she's more like her sister than you think. But how much?
"I bed your pardon, but I respect the throne too much to do so."
>Luna gives a slight scoff as she idly takes a bite out of a cracker.
>"Psssh. Oh, please. It's the Night Court and we're the only ones here. The only thing formal about this is the name. Besides..."
>She leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hooves, a serious expression on her face.
>"If you don't do as I say, I can imprison you for life and then some."
"I, uhhh..."
>After a few seconds, she breaks up into laughter and slams the table, the noise echoing across the spacious room.
>Perhaps a thousand years on the moon did a number on her sanity...or at least caused her to forget most formalities.
>"It was only in jest, Anonymous."
"Please, call me 'Anon'...Luna."
>"Very well, Anon. You'll live to see the morning for at least a day more. So, tell me..."
>She stuffs the rest of the cracker into her mouth, a few chunks flying out as she speaks.
>"Why are you here?"
"Well, as the newly appointed Head Chair, I just wanted to get to know you and your sister a little more, since we're going to be working together."
>"Oh? And tell me, Anon. Who do you prefer? My sister or me?"
>You pause, then smile.
"The both of you...equally."
>A small smirk forms across her face.
>"Smart answer, Anon. I think we're going to do great things together, you and I."
>She raises a glass of wine.
>"Cheers."
>You clink her glass with your own, a smile still on your face.
"Cheers."
 
>You're in your office reading over the budget, or at least trying to do so. You're only half awake, and your mind is still yearning for the comforts of you bed. The sun's starting to rise over the horizon, the rays shining through your window as the moon surrenders the spotlight for the time being.
>The more you think about it, the more it amazes you. The two leading Princesses are very, very different. As different as, say, night and day. Yet they seem to be so close. You would probably have to be able to move mountains if you are to find a way to break their bond.
>But even the strongest foundation has a weakness, a tiny crack that can gradually grow over time and, if unnoticed, cause the entire thing to collapse upon itself into utter ruin.
>And the only thing you need to find that crack is diligence and time.
>A knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts.
"No need to knock, Finch. I know who you are."
>The light brown pegasus enters the room, a coffee carrier in her mouth.
>"How fif if fo?"
"In a language I understand, please."
>She sets the carrier down and hands you a cup.
>"How did it go?"
"It went fairly well."
>"Learn anything?"
"Celstia is exactly as one might expect. It's too soon to find out what she's really like under those kind eyes of hers."
>"And her sister?"
"She's...something else. Doesn't really care much about formalities or titles. We might as well have been good friends at a bar."
>"Yeah. She's known for that. There's a reason why the Night Court is well known for being laid back. Subjects there feel like they can speak more freely."
"Meaning she really is who she appears to be or she's a genius at politics."
>"What do you think?"
>You take a sip of your coffee. Man, that's good stuff.
"I think Luna's a good starting point. Schedule a meeting with her for tonight."
 
>"It's a nice night, is it not?"
"I wholeheartedly agree."
>You and Luna are walking through the Canterlot Gardens side by side. The crickets are chirping in the grass, the owls are hooting, and the fireflies are dancing with one another. It's almost therapeutic.
>"I suppose you're not here as my date for tonight?"
>You laugh a bit.
"Unfortunately not. I'm here because we need to discuss the annual budget."
>"Of course. Please, this way."
>She directs you towards the maze entrance, and the both of you enter.
"I have the figures almost balanced, but there are a few key points that need to be addressed."
>"I see. Which ones, Anon?"
>You think about it as you follow her lead around the maze. Hopefully she knows where she's going. From the looks of it, a poor soul could die here without knowing the layout.
"Well, there's the royal cake budget. It's increased by a lot since last year."
>"That's what happens when another Princess takes the throne. Twilight seems to be quite fond of her sweets, especially given her current...state."
"I know that the throne doesn't publish the allocations of the budget on cake, but if too much money disappears, the citizens get suspicious."
>"Not as long as all receiving parties get enough funds."
"That's the thing. With these divisions, there isn't enough for the Education Department."
>"Isn't there a way to draw funds from elsewhere?"
"I tried everything. But this is the best I can do. There just simply isn't another way to fix this without reducing the cake budget."
>Luna stops and turns toward you, an expression on her face that you can't quite decipher given the poor lighting.
>"Then make a way, Anon. I trust you'll be able to do that?"
>You look around. The both of you have reached the center of the maze. A fountain was close by, the sound of moving water meeting your ears. A pony statue was on the top of the fountain, pouring an endless stream of water into the pool below. The moonlight was just enough to see that the expression on her face was neither happy or sad, but neutral. Perhaps even grim.
>Was that just a statue?
"O-of course, Luna."
>"Thank you, Anon. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got other matters to attend to."
>Extending her wings, she takes off into the night, the sudden breeze momentarily pushing against you as her figure disappears over the hedges.
>You turn to leave, but realize where you are.
>Oh, she's good.
 
>You drowsily stumble into your office, causing Finch to look up from her documents. You might not be dead, but you certainly feel like it. It's a miracle you found a way out of there.
>"You're here late. The sun rose about an hour ago."
"I know."
>She looks at your disheveled form up and down.
>"What happened? Sleep on the wrong side of the bed?"
>You scoff and collapse on the couch.
"More like didn't sleep on any bed. Luna was nice enough to leave me in the middle of the most convoluted maze I've ever had the misfortune of traveling."
>"Like a prank?"
>You cover your eyes with an arm as you lie down on the cushions.
"Yeah. Something like that. You think maybe she's onto me?"
>"If anything, I think maybe she's...into you."
>You raise your arm to look at her.
"How so?"
>"Well, Luna has a reputation for playing pranks on those that she's friendly with. But usually those are minor ones. A whoopie cushion here. A little nightmare there. But nothing too serious."
"And you think leaving me to die in that godforsaken maze qualifies as little more than a minor prank?"
>"It's the first time I've heard of her doing something like that."
"Well, I'm flattered," you say sarcastically as you close your eyes once again. "But let's err on the side of caution here. The last thing I need is getting Anon Jr. here beheaded for approaching one of the Princesses."
>"Oh, I almost forgot." Finch pulls out a letter, the royal seal already broken. "Luna requests that you be her number two for the upcoming gathering tonight."
>You get up from you seat with a start.
"What? When?"
>"Tonight."
"Are you kidding me? I feel like utter garbage right now because of her, and now she wants me to accompany her to this thing?"
>"Looks like it."
>You plop back down on the couch and give an audible groan.
>"How should I respond?"
"Ugh. Say that I accept, but request another opening."
>"For who?"
"You, of course. Get your dress ready, or buy one with my money if need be. All the department heads are likely going to be there and you're gonna have a job to do."
>"What's the plan?"
"I'll tell you after I get a nice, refreshing nap."
>"Should I leave?"
"It's fine. Just don't murder me in my sleep."
>"I'll try not to."
"Gee, thanks."
>Soon you welcome sleep with open arms as consciousness leaves you. But right before you pass out, you can almost swear that you hear Finch humming a lullaby.
 
>The thing you hate the most about these gatherings is how pointless it all is. Nothing gets done except the drinking of champagne and the endless ego stroking. It's just one massive circlejerk, and you hate yourself for participating. You suppose some things don't change between worlds. At least the drinks are free.
>"And I said, 'that necklace cost more than your weight in gold!'"
>Everyone around you breaks up into laughter, including yourself, albeit your reaction is more forced.
>Luna simply smiles and speaks up.
>"Thank you so much for attending. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to meet some other guests."
>The circle around you bows as the both of you take your leave.
>She leans in as the two of you head elsewhere in the room.
>"So, what do you think of them?"
"Well," you give a shrug. "They definitely seem to have an expensive taste in material goods."
>Luna gives a small chuckle.
>"You don't speak ill of anyone, do you, Anon?"
"Now that's not true. I'm certain that I've let slip a comment or two at some point in the past."
>"I can't wait to catch you red-hoofed if you do so in the future."
"And I can't wait for you to catch me, but the problem is," you wave your hands in front of her. "I don't have hooves."
>The both of you exchange a short laugh.
>"Well, it's good to see that you're alive and well, and not dead in the maze," Luna says as she grabs a glass from a nearby table.
"Was there anyone who failed to make it out?"
>"I can't comment for certain, but there are...rumors," she whispers, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, who's this?"
>In front of you stands a mare in a simple, but elegant dress. Colors of gold and silver fun the length of the fabric as they flowed together from end to end. You almost don't recognize her.
>Gathering yourself, you introduce her to your date.
"Ah, Luna, this is Finch. My personal assistant."
>Finch takes a bow.
>"Your Highness."
>"I don't think we've met before. Pleasure to meet you."
>You feel a nudge to your side.
>"Not bad," She whispers to you. "I wish my assistants were half as attractive."
>You gently nudge her back.
"Why don't you enjoy yourself, Finch? The food is at the southwest corner of the room. The chef certainly outdid himself this time."
>"Thank you, I will," Finch says before taking a bow towards Luna. "And thank you for having me, Your Highness."
>"Trust me, the pleasure is all mine," the Princess responds. "And don't worry. I'll return your boss in one piece."
>Finch takes her leave, the two of you alone together once again.
>If Finch does what she's supposed to do, then perhaps this night isn't for naught.
 
>You are Finch.
>And right now you're looking for the head of the Education Department, also known as Mr. Swirl. Rumor has it that long ago he changed his name to take after Starswirl the Bearded in some attempt to give himself more influence. As ridiculous as it sounds, it probably worked, given his current position.
>Somehow you have to convince him to accept less money for this year's budget.
>Soon enough, you spot him in the center of a crowd, surrounded by guests who probably want to earn his favors. Not like you can blame them. He is one of the more powerful figures in the Court, his influence backed by his extremely long tenure.
>"If the rumors are correct, Mr. Swirl has a thing for pretty younger mares," Anon said earlier today. "I'm sorry if this sounds degrading, but I'm going to need you to be eye candy for him."
"How do you know that I'll catch his attention?"
>"Trust me, I know. Besides, I can't ask anyone else."
"I see..."
>"Then once you have his attention, try to get alone with him."
"Y-you want me to...seduce him?"
>"Not quite. Just tell him that the budget is being balanced, as he's very well aware, and that the Education Department might end up losing some funds. However, he can be given compensation for his losses."
"And you want me to find out what he wants as compensation?"
>"Right on. If there was more time, I'd see him myself, but--"
"I understand. I won't let you down."
>"Thanks, Finch."
>Back to the present, you manage to enter the circle.
>Swirl notices your entrance and calls out to you, a smile on his face.
>"Why hello there, young lady. What's your name?"
"My name's Finch, sir"
>"Finch? That name sounds familiar."
"My father is a professor at one of the local universities."
>A look of recognition flashes across his face.
>"That's right! I remember now. My, I don't know if you recognize me, but I remember seeing you when you were just a little filly fresh from Cloudsdale. How's your father?"
"Doing fine, sir."
>"Oh, please. Call me 'Swirl.' Your father and I have enough history for me to consider his family as my family"
"Thank you...Swirl. May I have a word with you? Alone?"
>"But of course."
>He waves the rest of the small crowd away, leaving you alone with him.
>"This way."
>The two of head towards a less crowded portion of the room.
>"What do you want to talk about?"
"Well, you see, I work for Anonymous, the Head Chair of the Court."
>"So I've heard. He's been making waves with his actions during the summit."
"He has. And right now he's working on the annual royal budget."
>"Which is what he's supposed to do. Good to known he's staying on top of things."
"Of course. Unfortunately funds are...lacking at time, and he's afraid that he might need to cut some funding for your department."
>"Let me guess. He wants to know if I'm willing to accept some form of compensation for getting the brunt of the cuts."
"Yes."
>"Well," he says as he takes a couple glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. "I'd be more than happy to discuss it, but first, let's have a toast. To reuniting with old friends and reaching a successful future together."
>He hands you a glass, which you accept. After clinking, the both of you drink.
>"Ahh, that's good stuff."
>You finish drinking, but suddenly the glass falls out of your grip, falling to the floor.
>What?
>"Is something wrong, Finch?" Swirl gently grabs you, a look of concern on his face.
>You can feel your body going numb as the room starts to spin. Your limbs become unresponsive as you start to collapse, held up only by Swirl.
"W-wha's happenn..."
>"Shhhh," you hear as you start to black out. "Everything's going to be just fine."
 
>You awaken in a room somewhere. Upon further examination, you deduct that you're likely in one of the guest rooms on the upper floors.
>What the heck happened?
>Sensation slowly begins to seep back into your limbs. You try to move them, but feel resistance.
>Looking down, you notice that you're restrained in a chair, your hooves bounded by rope.
>Panic starts to set in. This can't be happening. How did this even happen? You had a drink with Mr. Swirl and then...and then...
>He wouldn't, would he?
>"Oh, you're awake. Good."
>Did he?
>You look for the source of the voice, and see Mr. Swirl sitting in a chair at the other end of the room. He gets up and makes his way towards you.
>"You know, you're really pretty when you're sleeping. It's like watching an angel."
"Mmmph! Mmmmmmph!"
>"I'm sorry I had to gag that pretty mouth of yours. Don't want to take any risks, now do we?"
>You're starting to hyperventilate, on the verge of tears.
>He reaches out and strokes your cheek with a hoof.
>"Oh, don't be sad. I didn't do anything to you just yet. Trust me. I prefer that they feel...everything."
>He steps back a bit, admiring you.
>"You might be upset at me, but think about it this way. You wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for your boss."
>You don't respond, glaring at him through the stinging tears.
>"I know I have a certain...reputation. Serious allegations that sometimes hurt my credibility. Are they true? Perhaps. And I'm certain that Anonymous of all people would know that. So why would he risk a delicate peach like you..."
>He licks his lips.
>"...to negotiate with me? I'll tell you why," he says as he goes to pour himself a glass of wine at a nearby table. "Anonymous knows what would happen to you if he sent you. He knows what I'd do. And he did it regardless, because he knows that I'd be more willing to be cooperative if I had an offering beforehand. And you, my dear..."
>He downs the glass in one gulp.
>"...are that offering."
>You start to struggle against your bounds, trying to scream through your gag.
>"It's pointless to struggle, you know. No one can hear you except for you and me. And trust me, it's not having the effect you want."
>Your eyes widen as his member grows in length, a sinister grin on his face.
>"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, it might not end up well for your father. Last thing I heard, his income is the only thing supporting his poor little family. It'd be such a shame if he were to suddenly, say, lose his job and reputation, hmmm? Just stay quiet and let it happen. You can't change the circumstances, so you might as well change the attitude. Who knows? You might even like it."
>You continue to writhe in your seat as he approaches, his breathing heavy, his musk filling the air.
 
>You are Anonymous.
>And where the heck is Finch? It's been almost half an hour and she is nowhere to be seen. You told her to get alone with that old fart, but not completely out of sight. You trust her to be doing her job, but you hate not having a full grasp of the situation. It makes you feel as if you don't have total control. And you want to have total control.
>"...and ever since then, my sister has banned laxatives as a chemical weapon."
"Right, right..."
>"Anonymous, is everything all right?"
>You look at her.
"Huh? Oh, uh, of course. It's just that, I..." you struggle to find the words. "I just need some fresh air. Probably had a little too much to drink. Can you pardon me for a little bit?"
>"Of course, Anon. Come back when you're ready."
"Thank you."
>You give a slight bow out of habit and leave her, scanning the room for signs of Finch or Mr. Swirl.
>Neither one is to be seen. Time to do some investigating.
>Scanning the crowd once again, you find the Chancellor of Canterlot Univeristy and make your way towards him.
"Excuse me, Chancellor, but do you perhaps know where Mr. Swirl is? I need to speak with him about something urgent."
>"Ah, greetings, Anonymous. Unfortunately, I have not the slightest idea. Last time I've seen him, he was speaking to this lovely young mare."
>Finch.
"Do you know where they went?"
>"I believe they went over there," he answered, gesturing to the far end of the room. "But they've probably moved somewhere else since then."
"Thank you. Have a nice night."
>You head directly towards the location mentioned. No sign of either of them. Looking around the area, you notice two glasses next to each other at a nearby table. However, one of them was broken, as if it was dropped. Searching the floor, you find traces of spilled champagne and broken glass fragments.
"Shit."
>Swirl always had a reputation for being a predator. Everyone and their mother knows that. But you didn't think that he'd try something like this in such a public setting. Has he gone insane? Your mind starts to race as you try to piece everything together.
>Where would a rapist take his unconscious victim without attracting too much attention? Not into the cellar. There's too many workers in between here and there. Where's a place more secluded? Where would not many guests go unless they had to?
>The guest rooms. Usually those with too much to drink would go there to collect themselves without making a fool of themselves outside.
>Not wasting a second, you rush to the entrance of the guest rooms. As soon as the door closes behind you, you find the guard stationed there.
"You! Did an old colt happen to pass by here with an unconscious mare?"
>"I can't say, sir."
"Why not?"
>"Sorry, sir. I just can't."
>You pinch the bridge of your nose.
"Look. I don't care how much he paid you. If you don't tell me right now, I'll feed your family to the Diamond Dogs and have you watch them die after I have you unhonorably discharged. Now, I'll ask one more time. Old colt. Unconscious mare. Where?"
>The guard hesitates for a second before responding, looking down.
>"Up the stairs."
"Where?"
>"From the sounds of it, top floor."
>Of course.
"Thank you. Have this. And remember. I wasn't here."
>You hand him a bag of bits before taking off into a sprint, reaching the end of the hallway and beginning your ascent up the stairs.
>The guard looks at the bag of bits before sighing heavily.
>"I'm getting too old for this."
 
>Your lungs are killing you. It's a miracle that they haven't completely collapsed by this point.
>After a couple minutes, you finally reach the top. In front of you is a hallways with guest rooms lined up on either end.
>It would be too late if you checked every room. It might even already be too late.
>Hoping that Swirl acts like your typical rapist, you run to the end of the corridor.
>Now choose. Left or right room.
>Pressing your ear against the left room door, you hear nothing.
>Time to check the right one.
>Holding your breath, you reach the other room and listen closely.
>"...so you might as well change the attitude. Who knows? You might even like it."
>He really is sick.
>You knock on the door, almost pounding on it. You can hear Swirl silent curse.
>"Who is it?"
"It's Anonymous. I heard you were here and I just wanted to give you something before I left."
>"I'm gonna kill that guard."
"What was that?"
>"Uh, can it wait until tomorrow?"
"It'll be no good then, I'm afraid. But I'm sure that you definitely want to see this."
>"I beg your pardon, but right now's not a really good time..."
"It's unwise to refuse a gift from the Head Chair, Mr. Swirl. I'm giving up my own valuable time to meet you. It's best that you accept."
>A pause.
>Then the door opens just enough for his head to peak out. A smile was on his face.
>"What is it, Mr. Head Chair?"
>You kick the door open, knocking Swirl several feet back.
>Upon entering the room, you see Finch gagged and bounded to a chair, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs.
>You can't really describe it right now, but a sort of fury builds up inside of you. Your fists begin to shake, your eyes widen, rage filling your thoughts. It's rather unbecoming for someone who prides himself on his ability to stay calm at all times.
>Swirl gets up, and starts to back away.
>"N-now I can explain--"
>But you don't let him explain, giving him a crushing blow to the face. Then another.
>After the second hit, he passes out, his left cheek already starting to bruise and swell. You'd continue to beat him until his bones became dust, but he wasn't your immediate concern.
>Collecting yourself, you run over to Finch, ripping off the gag and rope.
>As soon as she's free, she leaps onto you, clutching you as hardly as she could and knocking you off your feet.
>She's trying to say something, but she's sobbing so violently that you can't understand any of it.
"It's okay. I'm here. It's okay..." you say as you hold her closely, rocking back and forth as she cries into your shoulder, your eyes watering as well.
>You almost never make mistakes, but even the wisest of men were wrong at least once in their lives. Your miscalculation almost cost you the closest thing you had to a friend, and it will haunt you for the rest of your life.
>And from the looks of it, Finch also isn't going to walk away from this clean.
>But although you are not a saint, you do not abandon your own. If they're willing to go down with you, the least you can do is give them your company as the ship sinks.
"It's okay, Finch. I'm here..."
 
>You can never forgive Mr. Swirl for a few reasons. One, he tried to rape your personal assistant. Two, he was always a pretentious pain in the ass. Three, because of his actions, your primary plan is as good as dead. It's not the first time you had to resort to Plan B. Politics always requires adaptability. But usually that's because someone refuses to reach an agreement or someone double-crossed you. But never in your life had you had to change your course of action because of a reason as savage and illogical as rape.
>And four, because he made you lose your cool and act like a whiteknight. That by itself is unforgivable.
>You're sitting directly across from him as he comes to, his limbs bounded by the same rope used on Finch. You didn't gag him, though. You want to hear him squeal.
>His eyes flutter open, then widen in panic as soon as all the recent events come back to him. He struggles in him bounds, crying for help.
"It's no use, I'm afraid. Out here, no one can hear you scream. Although I do admit, you did choose quite the location. The view out here is incredible."
>"L-look, whatever happened, it's not what you think it is--"
"How stupid do you think that I am, Swirl?"
>"A-ask Finch! She'll vouch for me! Finch?"
>Finch was across the room, her eyes bloodshot from tears and full of anger. She doesn't say anything.
>"Remember your father, Finch! Remember what I told--"
>You slap him across his bruised cheek, causing him to yelp sharply and break into his own sobs.
"You don't speak to her unless I allow you to. Is that clear?"
>After a couple seconds, he nods, tears streaming down his face.
>"What do you want?"
>You untie one of his hooves, then pull out a small table in front of him. Then, you place a piece of parchment on the table and a quill in his free hoof.
"I just require your penmanship, Mr. Swirl. Nothing more."
>"I-I can accept the reduced funds you'll provide us! I'll even take larger cuts if--"
>You silence him by holding up a hand.
"I don't need that anymore. I just need you to write a message for me. After that, you're free to go. I do admit you're not my best friend right now, but we're both reasonable beings, right? Now write what I say."
>With a shaking hoof, he dips the quill in ink and gets ready to write.
>You recite the prepared message, pausing enough for him to write it.
"'I, Mr. Swirl, have lately become overwhelmed by my inexcusable actions. Upon a great deal of reflection, I confess to the public that the allegations against me are true--'"
>"B-but that'll ruin my career!"
"You're career is ruined regardless of what you do, Mr. Swirl. You don't have a choice this time."
>"I-I can't--"
"Do it or else you're not walking out of here alive."
>More tears stream down his face as he writes the message.
"'I cannot run away from my actions, but perhaps I can atone for them in what little ways I can. Therefore, I officially forfeit my position as Head of the Education Department and give it to whoever the Court deems as worthy to take the position that I have tarnished with my crimes. Perhaps those that I have wronged will find some peace from this. For the last time, Mr. Swirl.' Now sign it."
>He does, and you then pick up the letter and place it on the bed.
"You've done the right thing, Mr. Swirl. Time to let you go."
>You undo his bounds, but pick him up and carry him to the balcony.
>"W-what are you doing? You said you'd let me go!"
"I am."
>You place him on the railing with him facing outward, grabbing his suit with one hand and covering his mouth with another.
>His muffled screams can't possibly reach the ears of those below. It's almost pathetic, really.
>Finch walks up next to you.
"You don't have to see this, you know."
>"I know," she says, her voice raspy but determined nonetheless.
>In that moment, as out of place that it is, you can't help but feel a tinge of pride for her.
"Goodbye, Mr. Swirl. I've always hated you."
>You then let go, causing him to begin his freefall towards the ground below.
>His screams draws the attention of the party guests outside as he falls, but soon ceases as his body meets with  solid ground, making a sickening, crumpling noise.
>Screams and panicked voices meet your ears as the inebriated attendees realize what just happened. Hopefully no one is too traumatized from the experience.
>You and Finch step away from the balcony and back into the room before anyone notices.
>It's time to get rid of evidence. You pick up the rope and gag and restore the furniture to their original positions, but leave Swirl's 'suicide' note on the bed.
>When everything seems to be back to normal, you turn to Finch.
"I'm sorry to say this, but I can't let you go to a hospital. They'll ask too many questions."
>"I know."
>You admit that you do feel sorry for her. You never intended for her to go through any of this. Perhaps you're not as cold-hearted as you would like to believe.
"Want to spend the night as my place? You can have the bed."
>She nods, the responds.
>"Could you carry me? I'm really tired right now."
>Really tired would be an understatement.
>You bend down and pick her up. She wraps her hooves around your neck as you head to the end of the corridor and back down the stairs.
>"Anon?"
"...Yes?"
>"Don't leave me."
>You struggle to find the words.
"Of course, Finch."
>"Promise me?"
>You pause. Most of the time, you don't make promises, because chances are you're going to break them. How else do you think you've made it this far as a politician?
>Still, because of what she's gone through, she at the very least deserves one.
"I promise."
>Soon after, she nods off to sleep as you reach the bottom of the stairs and out the exit, past the crowd that gathered around what was once Mr. Swirl. You don't look. You don't care.
>Today may have been a step back, but you're certain that the both of you are going to recover from this. The climb to the top is always steep and full of dangers. Sometimes the path you're taking is blocked. Other times you find yourself farther from the apex than before. But there's no solace for those that don't meet the summit, and there's no pride in sacrificing your team to reduce the weight. Only when you finally reach the top will it all be worth it. And it sure as hell better be worth it.