My Little Americans

By Sara T. Fontanini

Prologue: Memoirs of a Founding Founder

I am not sure on the date. I haven't really been able to check, to be honest, but I am told it is important to at least allow some context to my documents. I will make amends later.

I suppose I should start to when i awoke here. I had laid face down in slick mud, struggling as i saw only darkness. Open my eyes as I wiped the mud away, and saw several men around me. At first, they had thought me some manner of beast, due to my resemblance to their own horses. Of course, when they heard me screaming, in the English tongue, they reconsidered.

Before they could kill me, believing me to be some sort of devil or ill-omen, a lone man stopped them. They listened. I remember he leant down to me and asked me a question.

"Be you devil or angel; Omen or miracle? Speak, creature, so I may know whether you will be of use to us, or of hindrance."

I looked up at him, and I was told later that I had looked very confused and frightened. "I know not. I know not what I am or where this place is, or what you are."

His expression didn't change from that commanding frown, a calculating look in his eyes. "What creature does not know, or even have an inkling, of its nature? Tell me, what do you know?"

I looked up at him, shivering from the cold, and I replied, "I know only one thing. That my name is Luna."

It was yet another battle. I no longer remember which, there were so many. Washington, as I had later learned was the man's name, rode me like any other of horse, though we both knew by then I wasn't. However, by that point, I was accustomed to it, and I liked being able to help my comrades in the revolution. I was not able to hold a gun, at least not at that point in my life, and I wasn't a respected leader like Washington or the others were, so I decided I could at least let him ride me into battle, and protect him if the need arise.

What I do remember about this particular battle is that it was the first in which the redcoats used their own, unusual steeds, creatures that resembled the eagles we were so accustomed to, but with four legs and resembled a horse, the same size as I was. The redcoats and their flying creatures had superior numbers, and had a distinct advantage of flight, which I noted at the time as being terribly unfair.

Washington merely glared, the only one of us not taken aback by the unfamiliar steeds our enemies used, and urged us to charge. We did so. One of them flew straight at us; Washington and myself, the steel tip of his bayonet pointed at my friend's heart. It was then I discovered my unusual ability as a purple-blackish...haze surrounded the redcoat's weapon, wrenched out of his hands, and stabbed right into his own heart.

I had done it instinctively, unthinking. For several hours I trembled, hiding in my room housed within a small house a few of us shared. I didn't talk to anyone, or even walk outside. I was afraid. I had abilities no mortal man, or woman as I soon realised I was, should have.

The Christian values I had been tough by a kind pastor told me that I was a monster, a devil like they had thought I was on first meeting. I ran outside and grabbed a forgotten bayonet, intending to use it on myself as I had on that redcoat, when a strong, familiar hand stayed my non-evident own.

Washington smiled at me; the first time since we met he gave me such an expression, and asked me why I was trying to attempt such a terrible thing.

I told him my fears, my realisation, and he laughed. I always enjoyed his laugh. I stared up at him in confusion and a little anger, thinking he was belittling my trauma. He slapped my back and told me something I never forgot.

"You are no devil, Milady Luna, you are far too kind-hearted and loyal to be a creature of evil and sin. You saved my life, as well as countless others. A devil would never do that. A devil would only destroy. I know not WHAT you are, but I know WHO you are: a loyal friend."

He held me in his strong arms as I cried.

As the revolution ended and we had gained our independence at last, we, the leaders and founders of this revolution had gathered together to sign a piece of paper. It was a large piece, for written on it were laws and guidelines which we intended to be used to govern the lands long after our passing.

I was simply shocked by everyone's insistence I sign too, despite my contributions in the war being slight and unimportant when compared to theirs. However, I consented and was the second-last to sing my name on the constitution, the last being John Hancock.

At this point I had finally learned to walk like my fellow man, somehow able to hold objects with the odd, hoofed arms I had rather than normal hands and arms.

I had thought I was the only one of my kind, and would forever remain as such. It wasn't until some years after Washington became our first real president that more of my unnamed kin appeared, this time in the west and several other cities and townships, such as Boston.

So many have passed, and my old friends, my comrades, are all dead and buried. Only I remain on this mortal coil. Unaging, unchanging, undying.

Now, a new conflict begins. Those in the south have been capturing and enslaving a peoples different from most American citizens. A people who resemble me. Some have horns like me, some have wings like me, all look like simplified, smaller versions of horses. They were different from other Americans, but they were the same as me. That knowledge made me feel a sort of kinship to these outcasts, who were looked down by the more normal citizens.

The southerners had chosen to enslave them. They had slaves before of course, a dark skinned race of people, but they found the ones similar to me, who they called by such slurs as 'long-face' and 'demon horse', were stronger and better suited to sue as slaves.

That angered me. I hated them more than the British. I had never believed that possible.

The man who was to be named our newest president, Abraham Lincoln, proposed we go to war against the south and earn back to freedom of all American citizens, and not just a select few. And of course, we accepted and took up arms.

Of course I was going to join in the war free my people.

I have killed for the first time in my life and I must be honest...it didn't feel good.

I had been able to join the army at last and join the battle for my people's freedoms...I was stationed in Gettysburg, and the battle was so chaotoic I can't remember much, but I do remember...the gunfire, the rifles, screams and yells, orders being shouted...and him. He was just another enemy soldier. He looked scared, confused. He saw me as I saw him, raised his rifle and...

I panicked. I lifted my own rifle, but i was too slow. I closed my eyes in fright, and when I opened them, the upper corner of my sight was tinted a dark blue or lightish purple...and the bullet floated in the air. We both stared at it in stunned amazement, but he remembered where he was and prepared to laod another shot.

I didn't give him a chance, I pulled the trigger and shot him dead.

I...I will never forget the look in his eyes at that moment. At first surprised, shocked even, and then...nothing, empty.

I...I left the army after that, I ran and retreated...I...I didn't want to kill again...

Battle after battle, bloodshed after bloodshed. It seemed it would never end.

And so, of course, the moment it seemed as if it would go on forever, the war ended. We won, and my people were given their freedom. However, we were not given equality, not yet. But that is alright, we were happy no longer being slaves and treated as no more than animals, and we wouldn't be too bothered with equality for a while.

A few years after the war, someone came to me to inform that Lincoln, the president who had allowed the civil war to happen, had died. Shot, assassinated by a confederate supporter named John Wilkes Booth.

And all the politicians were all in a panic, due to the fact that a vote hadn't been scheduled and there were no candidates in the running. As everyone began trying to proclaim themselves in the rubbing, I distinctly remember the same man who informed me of Lincoln's death placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke.

"She's a founding father, correct? Is there a problem in letting her be a presidential candidate?"

They all stared, the idea seemed mad. And then...

One of the politicians replied, "Very well."

One by one, each politician gave their approval. And so it was that I was in the running for president of the United States of America.

And soon, the votes were tallied, and I was officially sworn in as President.

I had attended Lincoln's funeral, but I didn't really knew him. I wasn't as close to him as his predecessors, especially not in the way Washington and I were.

Of course, after I was sworn, I had arranged for his widow to have comfortable accommodations, I actually don't think she wanted to stay in the white house. Too many painful memories.

Of course, there were many protests and riots over a 'devil-spawn' to be voted as president, especially since my kind was looked down on by so many. The African-Americans (as there were called many years later) sympathised, since they were also badly mistreated by the confederacy, though not to the same extent as we were, and so they offered support and asylum to my kind during the rougher periods.

As time passed, it became clear that even accounting the difference of life spans between 'longfaces' and average Americans, I lived by different rules. I didn't age at all, I didn't get sick and every time i did get hurt I simply healed. Doctors were baffled, many saying I was a medical impossibility.

My vice-president at the time suggested something unthinkable: we add to the constitution of civil rights.

The idea horrified me. My comrades from all those years ago fought for those rights, I didn't want to sully their sacrifices for some simple political gain, but the vice-president explained: we would be adding two extra laws that were pertinent to the situation: the populace could vote on whether we continue our traditions, or if I become president for as long as I possibly lived, if it ever could end. The second was that all sentient beings, as long as they could prove themselves as no different from the average person mentally, would be awarded the same rights of citizenship as everyone else.

The more I thought on these decisions, the more they made sense. I was one of the founding fathers, and as such I would be able to carry on their legacy with my own two hands, as well see to it that America prospered as they envisioned. And not only that, but all Americans would now be able to have the things they always deserved, regardless of colour of skin or shape of face, hands and feet.

And so, we altered the constitution, and I became the Eternal President.

To this day I hate that damnable nickname.

Hey all! Yet another new fanfic, but this time its different: it's an MLP fanfic! So, hope all you bronies and pegasisters enjoy this one!

Not much to say here without spoiling anything, although I did forget to add in a bit of kind of important information. Maybe in the next chapter I'll explain what I mean more thoroughly.

I ended it here because it felt like a good place to stop, nothing more, nothing less.

There are some things I forgot to put up here and on the whole it feels like i squandered my premise and could have done a lot more with it, but then again future chapters can probably fix all that.

I also want to add that if you all have any ideas to share with me about this story you want me to consider, please let me know! I could use the help!

Hope you enjoyed it and please comment!

Howe