Tornado Warning

Part One - Nillionaire

Thyrai

Ponyville should be described as a place that, for all of its merits, should be considered as nothing more than a backwater little hamlet between Canterlot and Cloudsdale. The curious bit is, however, in that for such a supposedly peaceful town, it certainly seemed to be Equestria’s central hub for the most ridiculous and improbable of events. On any average day, it had become sensible for residents to assume that merely taking a stroll into town would lead to some kind of adventure, especially if a certain pink pony happened to cross one’s path.

It was during one of these regular, leisurely days that a chilly autumn breeze lazed through town, carrying with it the distinct crisp flavour of impending winter. As per regular Saturday schedule, a particular princess had been spending the afternoon in her luxurious bean bag chair with a thick book and a hot cup of tea. The day had ticked away peacefully and without any real hassle to speak of, until Twilight finished the last page of Particle Physics: 7th Edition and leaned back to rest her eyes from well over a few hour’s exposure to lengthy blocks of text.

There were big plans for tonight! The girl’s monthly slumber party was, for the first time ever, to be held at her brand new… home? A lingering hesitation still hung heavy over her in that regard, as she still felt uncomfortable calling Ponyville’s newest apex as something so personal. Perhaps, as her leading hypothesis reasoned, it was an internalization of what castles traditionally represented. They were the state’s embodiment of power over their subordinates, purposefully constructed to be cold, dark, intimidating, imposing, and impersonal. Thankfully, this place didn’t really feel like any of those things, and in fact, the palace’s aura felt quite the opposite. It did seem as though it would never be quite as homely and cozy as the old tree, but perhaps it just took some getting used to.

Regardless, lodging arrangements honestly didn’t matter a great deal to her, as long as she got to live there with her friends and a few shelves of good books. And, on the plus side, she got to live in her very own castle. That was “Pretty freaking cool,” according to Rainbow Dash. Twilight agreed.

A glance up at the clock turned her daydreaming cogitations into those of panic.

“Spike!” Twilight shouted abruptly, prompting a shriek and a crash somewhere in the nearby vicinity.

A sullen voice cropped up from from the very dragon in question who evidently was quite nearby. He brushed a mop’s cotton yarn from his face and lifted his head from a pool of soapy water, groaning more out of frustration than pain.

“Your majesty?”

“The girls are going to...” Twilight trailed off when she turned around, cocking her head to the side. “Why are you wearing that bucket?”

Spike sighed in resigned defeat. “I was doing exactly what–”

“–Yes, well, we need to get this place cleaned up on the double!” Twilight interrupted, snatching up what was to her a conveniently placed mop and proffering it to the thoroughly flustered and still stretched out dragon. “If you can get this floors and windows spick and span, I’ll make sure all of today’s returns are properly sorted and the shelves are dusted!”

Even before she had completed her sentence, half of the material in the supplies cupboard completed their magic dance of levitation around the common room, and were promptly amassed next to her little assistant, who was still in the process of coming with something snarky to say under his breath as he got up.

Twilight then immediately set to work on organizing the returns, leaving her with a little time to mull over some invasive thoughts. An annoying one in particular, was that they were perhaps too old for such things as slumber parties, and perhaps it was an activity that could even be described as overtly inappropriate for a princess. This thought was relayed to her three months prior by an inconsolable Pinkie Pie, who had been given the notion by a cantankerous old mare, who had overheard that month’s preparations in disgust. In fierce riposte to this atrocity, Twilight had immediately called an emergency town assembly in order to aver a new edict which mandated that slumber parties were now a compulsory activity, and were to be enjoyed by all ages.

This fantastic solution was never intended to be enforced, and therefore became problematic when an overly-ambitious officer thought it prudent to issue citations to citizens who were suspect of not participating in slumber parties, or worse, had not been enjoying them. To rectify this calamity, Twilight had cut the fine to a maximum of one bit, effectively dissolving all incentive for the department of justice to pursue leads given, ordinarily, by disgruntled family members or coworkers. The officer was given three weeks paid vacation for insubordination and petty treason.

It was just after dinner when the girls began to arrive in their regular format. Pinkie Pie arrived earliest and bided her time outside the door until the clock struck the exact time specified, from whence she would burst in (usually with confetti). Twilight, of course, had attempted to explain that it would be perfectly acceptable for her to show up earlier, but that resulted in a surprisingly stern reprimand for reasons she still had a hard time comprehending. Applejack typically came last as she had to finish up chores on the farm and stubbornly wouldn’t allow any of her friends stop by to help out, but since harvest was over she managed to show up on time with Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. The trio was followed by a fashionably late Rarity.

Once all had arrived, the night progressed as regularly as usual. Pinkie Pie brought in her special pecan muffins that were only ever made for the one exclusive purpose of the girl’s night in. Makeovers, as always, were number one on the list, (a certain two ponies sat out and entertained themselves with a good hoof wrassle) which spilled over as always into an unplanned session of gabbing about town gossip and other, relatively unimportant things. Sometimes, if they were feeling exceptionally rambunctious, a pillow fight would commence sometime during this period. Tonight’s mood, however, was too relaxed to merit one.

Nonetheless, an exception was never made for the ensuing game of of hilarity and enlightenment: Truth or Dare. As per a tradition developed and sculpted to perfection over the years they’d known one another, cold autumn and winter evenings would find themselves with the six distinctly coloured ponies lazing in front of the orange heath of the fireplace. Plenty of pillows, sleeping bags and blankets were at the ready, and a copious amount of hot chocolate was brewed up. As the night grew older, and the ponies more comfortable and tired, the game often devolved into a simple game of ‘Truth’.

Rarity had just recovered from her unfortunate decision to try out a dare for once when something completely unexpected happened, and perhaps, was the catalyst of one of the biggest changes in Twilight’s life.

“Well, Rarity, ya’ll can colour me as impressed as your tongue is purple.” Applejack snickered, “I knew you had it in ya, but I never thought you’d actually do it.”

“Would you like me to get you a glass of water?” A concerned Fluttershy asked through the multi-source gouts of laughter echoing throughout the drawing room.

“No, no, dear. It’s quite alright.” Rarity smacked her lips a few times, depositing her clearly inedible eyeshadow into a member of her veritable horde of bags.

Once the laughter had subsided a bit, Pinkie adjusted her outrageously fuzzy pajama top and moved the game along, “Don’t forget to take your turn!”

“Hmm, ” Rarity’s gaze scanned and weighed each of her friends, her expression turning sinister when her eyes settled on their victim. “Twilight. Truth or dare?”

Twilight gave a small moan in protest as she nuzzled further into her pillow. With the thought of impending sleep on her mind, getting up into the relatively frigid library air to do some ridiculous dare was absolutely not going to happen.

“Truth.”

Rarity’s mouth was screwed into a grin and her voice came out in a mischievous purr, “Do you ever find yourself attracted to mares?”

A collective gasp sounded from at least half of the ponies present, and Twilight’s tired, placid smile became immediately replaced by a look of incomprehension and a weary form of shock.

“Wh–,” Twilight sputtered, the cozy atmosphere forgotten as she popped her head up from the pillow thanks to an instinctive defence mechanism. “D-do you mean like…”

“Yes.”

“Now hold on just a minute here,” Applejack interjected virtuously. “That ain’t somethin’ you rightly ask somepony, ‘specially not in some silly game.”

“Oh chill out, AJ. She has to answer whatever she’s asked, it’s in the rules!” Rainbow protested, whilst a nearby Pinkie Pie nodded sagely in agreement.

“You really must lighten up, darling.”

“Fluttershy agrees with me, don’t you?” Applejack pleaded.

Fluttershy looked like she’d rather keel over and die than pick a side. “I, um.”

“Ugh.” Applejack lifted a hoof to her face, feeling wholly betrayed. “I don’t even know why I bother.”

A bead of sweat slicked down Twilight’s face by this time, landing in a soft pat on the pillow she clutched close to her chest. Five pairs of eyes stared at her with varying degrees of expectation, their greed craving for her to hack out a piece of her little trove of secrets and share it with obedient candidness. She briefly considered feigning a laugh and informing Rarity as to what a ridiculous question that was. Did she really think a respectable and upstanding pony, one being Celestia’s own former student, and now figurehead of the nation, would allow herself to stoop to something so debauched and depraved as fillyfoolery? Absurdity. Blasphemy. Impiety! These heretical degenerates should all be thrown into the dungeon. She was a princess now. She could do that.

“Um, y-yeah, I do. Sometimes.”

That was dumb. That was so dumb. Why did she feel compelled to do that? It wasn’t like she was the element of honesty or anything. Twilight Sparkle realized in that moment that she probably just made a mistake that would damage her relationship with her friends forever.

To her surprise, though it could have just been the bleariness of the tears forming in her eyes, it seemed as though her friends had expressions of not-really-disgusted confusion or amiable interest. Well, all except one.

“Wow I’m so surprised.” Rainbow’s monotone voice and practised, perfectly straight face accompanied her nonchalant inspection of her own hoof. “I totally thought you kept those dirty girly mags in your pillowcase for no reason.”

“Rainbow Dash!”

“Oh, my.”

The visible spectrum of light, on the extreme slow end, harbours what is commonly regarded as the colour red, and frequencies that undulate even slower than red are given the term infrared. Infra, literally meaning below or beyond, and red, which is perceived as a colour that most individuals see on a regular basis. Twilight felt her cheeks had gone well past red, completely skipped infrared, and could attest with comparative certainty that her face had very well had begun transmitting the radio signals of some morning talk show.

Applejack raised an eyebrow at Rainbow’s observation, “I’m supposin’ you stuck around a while to sort through ‘em then, too?”

“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!”

“You implyin’ somethin’?”

“Maybe!”

“That’s it!” Applejack snapped, picking up a nearby pillow and lunging towards her birdbrained prey, successfully taking the mare by surprise and pinning her to the floor.

“Girls.”

“An’ what would that be?” Applejack interrogated as she whacked and smothered her feathery friend. Regardless of her efforts, Rainbow’s raucous, joyous laughter made Applejack start sniggering herself as she kept pressure on, “Say uncle!”

“When I first met you, I totally thought you were a marelicker.”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Enough!” Blared a voice that invited no dissent, causing the two combatants to tacitly agree on an immediate armistice. Fluttershy then smiled warmly at the the stressed princess, “I am very happy can you trust something special like that with us, and we only love you more for it. Isn’t that right, everypony?”

Everyone agreed, to Twilight’s tremendous relief.

The ponies eventually settled down for the night, but Twilight’s admission tugged with robust vigour on the synapses of her mind. She wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but she concluded that everypony was long asleep. Rarity, who was laying beside her, must have clued in on her strife.

“Trouble sleeping?” She asked, invalidating Twilight’s assumption.

“A bit.”

“Please don’t be down on yourself, dear.” Rarity shuffled their sleeping bag towards her before she looked around conspiratorially, making extra sure everypony else was sleeping soundly before continuing perceptively, “Are you thinking about what you confided in us?”

“Kinda… I guess,” Twilight gnawed the inside of her cheek. “I’m just a little worried, that’s all. I know nice ponies say they won’t treat you any differently, but what if they just… do?”

Rarity’s eyes lowered as she considered Twilight’s words, and became apparent that she didn’t have an answer. “I think it’s only fair that I share a little secret with you, in recompense.”

Twilight cocked her head to the side, “Oh?”

Rarity giggled softly, her smile twisting wry. “The truth is, you’re not alone. I’ve also found a mare here and there to be… relevant to my more carnal inclinations.”

“R-really?” Twilight asked, eyes wide. “You?”

Rarity nodded with an unabashed smile. Her usual air of a conscious effort to keep up her semi-faux class seemed to suspend for just a moment, and she spoke with purity, “I do sincerely apologize. I don’t know what I was thinking, asking a question like that. I certainly didn’t expect you would say yes.”

A little wave of gratitude washed against Twilight in that moment, making her eyes shimmer. If nothing else, tonight was a little reminder of just how her friends truly loved her. Not just her smarts, her clever use of language, her snide humour, her opinion on the proper pronunciation of tomato, or even her private preferences.

Rarity continued, “I shouldn’t even need to say this, but I guarantee none of us see you any differently. And regardless of my reputation for gossip, I promise I won’t tell anypony, and I never would have. I’m certain none of the other girls wouldn’t ever dream of it, either.”

In a flash, Rarity’s lips pecked the tip of her snout before she turned around and yawned.

“Good night, Twilight.”

Twilight tentatively touched her nose with a hoof. With a swamp of emotion dancing around in her mind, along with her exhausted thoughts and Rarity’s kind words of reassurance, Twilight found sleep with a smile on her face.

˚–––––~* TW *~–––––˚

...Until a shrill voice cried, “Good moooorning, sleepyhead!” Three clip-clops rang out from the crystal flooring, indicative of somepony bouncing in jubilation quite nearby. “I know you like to sleep in a lot because you’re used to being awake late, but it’s almost noon and most of us have to go now and I wanted to say thank you for being such a great host and overall greatprincessandgoodbye!”

After a moment, Twilight found the strength to rub her eyes and take stock of her surroundings, which unsurprisingly lacked a pink pony, who had presumably left in the time it took for her senses to function. It also seemed as though Fluttershy had taken her leave as per usual, as she needed to get back to her cottage early in the morning for the animals. That poor pegasus’ job had turned her half-nocturnal.

Twilight was always the last one of them to wake up, and the wonderful friends that they were, they usually let her sleep in on weekends. It looked as though they’d all done their part in cleaning up the mess from last night as well.

“I’d best be off, myself.” Applejack said as she donned a single meager saddlebag of her required supplies for the night, much unlike a certain somepony else. “I reckon I’ll see most of ya’ll later today with some apples.”

Rarity had evidently made a considerable dent in her stack of bags and necessities for the evening, likely having already moved them to the wagon she had waiting outside. “If you don't mind, I’ll tag along and collect Sweetie Belle. I hope those girls didn’t break or otherwise cause too much harm and dismay to your brother last night.”

Applejack gave a hearty chuckle, offering wordless assistance by throwing a few of the fashionista’s non-delicate articles onto her back. “You know, there ain’t much in the world that could so much as get him to flinch,” She paused to fasten a strap. “Can’t rightly say I’ve ever seen him more terrified than the other day when I told him he was alone to supervise.”

“Oh, that poor thing,” Rarity murmured with a sincere sense of deep empathy coating her words. “We’ll have to make it up to him. You’re going to have to pitch in somehow as well, Rainbow Dash.”

“Wot? Ne?” The speedster’s voice was almost unintelligible.

“Yes, I do believe the so-called Crusaders includes your new sister, as well. That means you get a share of the liability.”

Rainbow removed her wistful snout from a long since depleted jar of hazelnut spread she must have liberated from one of Twilight’s cupboards and harrumphed. “I guess.”

Rarity picked up the last of her entirely necessary items and hurried to Applejack’s side. She stopped suddenly as she remembered something, “Just one thing, Rainbow. I heard there’s some rainclouds in the forecast today. Do you have any idea of what time I should take my laundry off the lines?”

The question seemed to mystify the mare with the chocolate-coloured chops for only a moment before she cracked a smirk, “Yeah, around five.”

“Wonderful.” Rarity glowed, “Ta-ta girls, thank you ever so much for being our wonderful host this week, Twilight.”

Both Twilight and Rainbow bid their farewells to the departing ponies as they disappeared down the entrance corridor together, leaving only two. Now, this was a moment of peculiarity that normally wouldn’t have gone straight over the princess’ head. The fact that Dash hadn’t already rocketed the keep of Egghead-Citadel to start her morning flying rituals should have clued Twilight into something unordinary. Her mind, however, had been set upon routine to urge her uncooperative body to slip out from her comfortable sleeping bag and spend its meager waking resources preparing for the day ahead.

“Hey Twi, can we talk for a sec?” Rainbow said as soon as the farm-bound antipodes were out of earshot.

A flurry of papers flew around the library as the palace went from intimate party-mode to serious business mode. Vellum, palimpsests, ink, quills, ledgers and other books lined up from their places of storage into tidy, symmetrical rows and columns. One particularly long parchment entitled ‘Checklist for the Day’ was levitated out from its honorary drawer. Last but certainly not least, the coffee machine hummed to life.

“Mhm,” Twilight took a few slow, deliberate blinks to clear some of the sleep from her eyes. She wasn’t a morning pony, heck, she wasn’t even a waking-up pony. Talking in the limbo of her first few minutes awake was something she did quite sparingly. “What’s on your mind?”

Dash shuffled nervously, fighting with herself to find the words to say without sounding too clumsy. “About last night. Uh, I know me and AJ can get a little bit jerkish at times,” she stopped for a second. “Well, me mostly, but I just wanted to make sure you to know that we think it’s cool – you’re cool. I mean, if you ever turn out… you know… that’s, uh, cool.”

Did that just happen? Twilight again blinked, twice, and shook her head. There was only one thing that mare could be talking about. A quick assessment of her empirical faculties determined those words were probably not her imagination.

“Thank you, Rainbo– o-oh!” In the midst of turning around, she suddenly found herself constricted in a tight hug. Not exactly an eye-popping Pinkie hug, but a firm, reassuring one nonetheless. After a moment, Twilight’s social senses kicked in and she returned the embrace. Dash was clearly a touch awkward about the matter, but she had to admit, this quasi-narcissistic mare had grown considerably since the time they first met. In fact, Twilight had no doubts that she’d probably be at the receiving end of more than a few unsavoury insults by now, had that night transpired a couple years prior.

Twilight leaned in close to Rainbow’s ear and whispered, “You’re getting hazelnut in my hair.”

“Whatever.”

Twilight giggled as Rainbow rolled her eyes and dropped the embrace like a hot sack of potatoes. The fleeting moment was lost, but far from ruined. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting something so sentimental from you. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Don’t let it get around,” Rainbow quite nearly growled as she looked away, an embarrassed blush gracing her features.

Twilight could only grin with delight, “Now don’t you have a job to do?”

“Nope! The weather team is off today. Long weekend.” Rainbow flexed her wings, fanning out her feathers in preparation for the day’s events. “It’ll give me a chance to catch up on some training.”

Twilight’s magical morning ministrations halted for a brief second.

“But didn’t you just tell Rarity that there’s going to be some rain today?”

Rainbow’s eyes dilated ever so slightly, and her feathers hitched mid-stretch. “Oh. Uh, it’s supposed to be a clear day tomorrow s-so uhm, we’re not gonna secure the clouds coming in from the Everfree Forest. We’ll just let ‘em drift past town so we don’t have to, um, worry about them... tomorrow?”

“Ah.”

Rosy eyes shifted about the room searchingly. “Yeah.”

“‘Secure the clouds?’”

“Sometimes we... tie them down. To use them later and stuff.”

“Don’t you get them from the weather factory?”

“Normally.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“It’s broken.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “The factory is broken.”

“Yep.”

“The entire establishment?”

“Yes.”

“Huh,” Twilight paused whilst she tapped her chin with a hoof. “That’s odd, I haven’t heard of any problems of that sort in the newspaper.”

Rainbow rubbed the back of her head. “Haha, yeaaaah. They’re probably just keeping it on the downlow so ponies won’t start panicking and stuff. I should probably go see if they need help fixing it, see ya!”

In a flash, the ansty pegasus was gone.

Summoning forth one the most powerful and useful probably-dark-magic spells forged within the bowels of what seemed like generations of experience, Twilight merely shrugged and swiveled around to pour herself a nice, large cup of coffee. She’d long since learned not to question the reasoning and logic (or lack of) behind the antics of her regularly insane friends, as they never failed to confuse her, or make a mockery of the laws of science. More times than not, it was a bit of both. Especially if that damned pink one got involved.

As the first sip of glorious morning nectar found its way down her gullet, Twilight briefly took the time to ponder her checklist. Yes, an amendment was indeed in order. There were a few particular magazines needed to find their way out of a certain ‘unsorted reference guides’ box that just so happened to double as her pillowcase.

˚–––––~* TW *~–––––˚

Long, uneventful hiatuses in activity were something of a backhanded blessing upon Ponyville’s sole alicorn resident. When she wasn’t off saving the world with her friends, weeks turned into months of routine. Her life was simply comfortable and not much else. She had everything she ever really thought she wanted, and even more! She was a princess! And despite her being the princess of friendship by title, she was thankfully still far from intensely diplomatic and political spheres like the others. She could spend much of her time within the most wonderful place in Equestria, her private little kingdom: the annals and epic passages of good books.

Her daily work was still relatively easy and much the same as before her ascension and domicile upgrade, especially with her wonderful assistants to help out. She often found herself with heaps of extra time to spend studying, stargazing, or accompanying her friends in whatever ridiculous activities they managed to find themselves in. There would be intermittent occurrences where she would need to head to Canterlot to attend some ‘Royal Business,’ which, more times than not, wasn’t anything more than an excuse for Celestia to spend a day or two with her former prized student and dear friend. Twilight had no complaints.

But no matter what she did, or how good an individual day was, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

Perhaps it was a chronic feeling that everypony had, but it felt deeper and more urgent than the occasional nagging questions of existentialism and unpleasant emptiness. The princess librarian truly felt as though there was something of considerable importance she hadn’t yet accomplished with her life. It started small, where she would find herself falling into lingering pensiveness after reading certain lines from a book; or it occasionally manifested in the form of a sprite of thought late at night, a sort of psychological faerie intent on keeping her awake and swindling away precious hours of sleep. It worsened gradually, and unfortunately not without notice. As the months wore on, one thing became apparent: Twilight Sparkle was not happy, and she didn’t understand why.

One November day, a fateful event would set in motion the process of answering these intrusive thoughts.

Significant events like this, however, require an impetus. It shouldn't come as any surprise that the impetus to this series of events was her dear friend, the living embodiment of impetus, Pinkie Pie. In an exceptionally acute case of the mare’s perpetual state of exuberance, she happened to ‘stop by’ the palace in the evening.

“Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, Twilight!” Pinkie had shouted shortly after rocketing through the study at breakneck speed. Apparently she was late for an appointment with Twilight’s lectern, resulting in a crash and a thoroughly sprawled pink pony. She must have been taking lessons from Rainbow Dash. “You’ll never guess in a million years what just happened! Or who it happened to! Or why I’m so excited!”

“It couldn’t be that you’ve just made me lose my place, could it?” Twilight snarked astutely, lifting the poor book from the floor and inspecting its bindings.

“It’s Fluttershy!” Pinkie panted, not even bothering to get up, or even deal with the heavy wooden pillar squashing her stomach. “She has her own very special somepony! Well, maybe not somepony but something!”

“That’s nice, Pinkie. Now if–” Twilight stiffened. “Wait, what?”

That’s right. Demure, sweet Fluttershy had a special somepony to call her own. She would officially become the first of the six enter a serious romantic pursuit, which was indeed curious considering her aggressively diffident demeanour. Although, the real shocker who he was. Discord, the spirit of chaos himself, somehow managed to woo his way into Fluttershy’s kind heart.

At first, Twilight Sparkle did not panic. Certainly not. As calmly and collectedly as possible, she opened up her calendar and determined the date. A confirmation that it was very much November and not, in fact, the first of April, was when the concern really started to kick in. Twilight couldn’t deny the fact that the pair had been spending a considerable amount of time with one another recently, but she was still trying to get her mind around the fact that Discord was even within a stone’s throw of basic tolerable acquaintance material. Muffled by the noise of her own thoughts, Pinkie’s disembodied voice discussed her completely innocent totally-not-spying reconnaissance mission in which she saw the two sharing a cursory peck on the lips. Her commentary naturally evolved into a conjectural speculation into what their children were going to look like.

Of course, intrigue was just beginning for young Twilight Sparkle.

The next significant event in our story is the obligatory semi-formal party that followed about two weeks later when the two sweethearts felt comfortable enough to make their relationship public. Something as revolutionary as Fluttershy gaining her first sweetheart was light-years beyond entitlement for good-reason-to-party status, and Pinkie was never one to miss an opportunity.

Oftentimes, Pinkie’s parties consisted of the six of them plus Spike, and perhaps the Cakes, some of the Apple family, or a few townsfolk. This time, for whatever reason, a hefty chunk of Ponyville’s populace decided to show up at Sugarcube Corner. An analysis courtesy of Twilight’s scientific mind had led her to the dichotomic speculation that they were either very happy for the town’s favourite veterinarian and god of anarchy, or they had been persuaded by the 100% off sale on all sweets and drinks while celebrations were ongoing.

For the majority of the festivities, the eight of them sat at a rather large table, each of them enjoying a generous helping of incredibly delicious pastries, carbonated drinks, and something vaguely resembling pasta. Applejack had made absolutely certain that she secured a seat directly beside the equine guest of honour, and glared daggers at the non-equine that she efficaciously prevented from sitting too close to her friend. Seemingly unperturbed, Discord, who was looking quite dapper in his sports jacket, had been retelling in a grand fashion a tale of a time long passed.

“I didn’t even know it was possible to make a face like that!” He said with guffaw and a sweeping gesture of his claw. Immediately afterwards, however, his countenance sank to one of extreme remorse and unfathomable regret. “That’s the day I learned the consequences of questioning her majesty’s snacking habits.”

“So what happened?” A simultaneously riveted and terrified Pinkie asked.

“Pinkie Pie, have you ever heard of re-education through labour?”

“There ain’t no way Celestia would do that for somethin’ so silly,” Applejack accused with adroit lucidity.

Discord raised an eyebrow, which kept ascending until it literally hit the roof. “Wouldn’t she? She’d never had been daft enough to build an entire city on the face of a mountain without me.”

Applejack was aghast, “She made you build Canterlot?”

Discord bellowed in laughter, “Heavens no! She did force me to take care of her rambunctious sister for the afternoon, though.”

Applejack’s steely glare didn’t abate.

“She used to be quite the handful when she was young,” Discord explained whilst he returned to forking his soup. “Luna, that is. Not Celestia. Celestia’s always been miss obnoxious grace and tranquility.”

Having been the victim of the draconequus’ stultifying brand of humour for the better part of an hour, Applejack looked like she was on the threshold of thermonuclear meltdown. Fluttershy, who seemed to understand and enjoy her significant other’s banter, and Pinkie Pie, who understood it intrinsically, both did their best to stifle their mirth. Even Twilight couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of their discourse.

“Then what the hay does this have to with Canterlot?”

“What about this having to do with Canterlot?”

“Y'all said that Celestia couldn’t have built Canterlot up on that there mountain if it wasn’t for you.”

Discord looked baffled. “Why in the world not?”

In spite of the apple farmer’s hawkish behavior that night, her heart was truly in the right place. Fluttershy was the kind of filly that could easily be taken advantage of if the wrong pony, or not-pony, was on the other side of the relationship. For what it was worth, though, Fluttershy was the one that broke and tamed the beast in the first place. If there was a pony in all of Equestria that could keep him in line, it was her.

At this time, a sudden desire for relief plagued Twilight as the ample supply of drinks began to take their toll. She politely excused herself from the table and set out in her quest through the assailing din of the crowds of revelers, taking care to ensure nopony spilled anything on her dress. She soon noticed a particular two of her friends must have quietly excused themselves as well at some point, as she happened by them in the bathroom.

Perhaps that’s not the right way of putting it. Allow me to explain.

A muffled giggling sound emanated about the little filly’s room as she entered. Odd, but certainly not the oddest thing she’d heard transpire in a lavatory. Spike, for instance, could oft be heard chortling from within the washroom of the library as he had left a considerable stack of comic books to leaf through as he did his business. It wasn’t really a problem unless he lost track of the time he was supposed to be spending doing his chores while simultaneously hogging only the room for the final deed of the metabolic process in a semi-public building. Thankfully, however, the transition from Golden Oaks Library to Golden Oaks Palace had nullified half of this issue, as it now accommodated numerous restrooms.

She thought it best to keep quiet out of courtesy for the pony that may have popped in for a quick read. Twilight had taken care of her requirement and was on course to vacating the area when the latch of a stall nearby resonated and its door creaked open. A familiar face peeked out, furtively searching for a clear coast.

“Oh! Hey Rainbow!” Twilight smiled, tilting her head to the side. “And Rarity! Why are you both in the same stall?”

Rainbow Dash looked positively alarmed. “Rarity had… uh.”

“A bit too much to drink!” The white one shouted from further inside.

Dash nodded vigorously, looking relieved. “That’s it! Couldn’t leave a friend hangin’.”

Genuine curiosity was far from a novel aspect of Twilight’s life. Unfortunately, curiosity coupled with her propensity to be socially oblivious would quite often lead thorny situations. This was one of those situations.

“Really?” Twilight beamed as she walked right up to the stall, noting curiously that her friends were disrobed, “It just so happens I know a spell that helps settle an upset – ohmygoodness, you’re bleeding!”

Twilight nearly fainted as she came in sight of the laceration in Rainbow’s neck which bled all the way down her bare chest. Some had even caked on her mouth and chin. The most alarming part was that her blood wasn’t a healthy colour, it had a slightly pinkish tone much akin to the paint Rarity liked to smear over her lips during formal events for some silly reason. It was widely known that non-regulation blood hues were categorically against the law as issued by one Princess Twilight Sparkle four months prior.

Two things stopped the alicorn just before she started ripping at her dress in order to fashion a makeshift tourniquet. The first was her own logical inference which reasoned that administering a tourniquet to a neck wound would likely only speed up death due to strangulation. The other was Rainbow’s vehement protest of Twilight’s judgement.

Rainbow Dash looked positively alarmed. “It’s not blood! It’s… uh.”

“Red wine!” The white one shouted again from further inside..

Dash nodded vigorously, looking relieved. “That’s it! I spilled my wine. On my neck.”

Relieved herself, Twilight had opened her mouth to continue the conversation with the not-dying pegasus.  As soon as she did, however, Rainbow had said something incomprehensibly fast and slammed the door. Twilight’s brow furrowed as she briefly inspected the metal panel. She could have sworn Dash had announced her undying hatred of wine not too long ago.

A very confused princess left the bathroom, wishing she had her coffee pot around to fulfil the fetish requirement for her probably-dark-magic spell. She sat down at the table whilst Discord was telling a different tale about a comrade he once had back in the second Gryphon War. The fellow was a mess officer with a rusty mustache who had somehow managed to set up an international pastry and fresh fruit cartel using military assets for distribution. And everyone had a share.

˚–––––~* TW *~–––––˚

Twilight’s horn dimly lit the surrounding area of her bedroom, allowing her eyes to adjust to the purple glow without too much unnecessary agony. She studied deeply the three little prongs on the circular plate, but not really registering the information it was presenting. It was an experience much like looking into the refrigerator and immediately forgetting thereafter exactly why one did such thing.

After a few moments, she remembered. She wanted to know the time.

It was three thirty-seven in the morning, December the fourth. Normally, that wasn’t a horrendously late hour for her, as many a late night had been spent studying or reading a good book throughout her lifetime. But, in this context, it was brutally late. There had been so many things on her mind, and thousands of little tasks that kept her up at all hours, that she hadn’t slept the night prior, and hardly any the night before that. But she knew, of course, that these little things weren’t truly what were bothering her. They were simply distractions to keep her from the one thing that was truly ripping away at her ever fraying conscience.

Grunting in frustration, she turned over and sat up in her bed. A glance to her right revealed her soundly sleeping assistant, sparking a little twinge of jealousy. Her eyes then rested on her nightstand. It never really occurred to her before, but she couldn’t help but notice the shocking ratio of romantic fiction to pragmatic literature that was present. Only a year ago, she would have scoffed at the notion of even the thought of keeping, much less reading, such escapist nonsense. Objectively, she knew she shouldn’t enjoy that trite. There was no real surprise or twist to the main element of the story, as practically every single one is spoiled by the name of their genre. The stallion always got the mare, or vice versa. But even now, and with her opinion completely unchanged, she couldn’t help but read them with a giddy smile on her face. The rugged stallion would walk beside his beautiful companion on a moonlit night, their eyes would meet under the shimmering canopy of nightfall, their muzzles would move ever so closely together, and then –

Twilight shook her head. She needed help.

It had been two weeks since Fluttershy’s party, and in that time, she had a lot of time to ruminate on her own state of affairs. She thought deeply on the new kind of happiness that radiated freely from Fluttershy, and how her demeanor and attitude had become impossibly bright. For the record, even Discord seemed extra giddy and more self-amused than usual. Twilight couldn’t help but wonder for herself what it would be like to have somepony to call her own, somepony to hug and tell all about her favourite books. Certainly the source of her unhappiness could be that trivial, could it? Spike more than satisfied her needs for companionship, however reluctant he may be at certain times, right?

With horror, she noticed right then and there that his presence was becoming more scarce by the day thanks, probably, to the blight of adolescence. If he wasn’t getting his chores done as quickly as he possibly could, he’d be spending the day with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Another nail in her peace of mind’s coffin

Resolving to do something once and for all about her problems in the morning, she decided to at least try to spend her time productively. An already thoroughly dog-eared text on multivariable calculus seemed to be just the thing she needed to escape her haunted mind.

And mercifully, it worked. The only thing that broke her concentration from an unbelievably dry passage on the divergence theorem was the back cover of the book slammed over the pages by a white hoof. For a good few seconds, the only thing that registered in Twilight’s mind was the minor annoyance of once again having lost her place as a cause of one of her probably well-meaning friends.

“Rarity?” She said, looking up. “What are you doing here in the middle of the…” Twilight’s voice grew increasingly quieter with each word, eventually trailing off as she looked out the window. Whoops.

A strange flavour of ire flashed in the seamstress’ eyes. “I have been talking to you for the past three minutes!”  She moaned arduously, “What could possibly be so interesting that you would ignore you best friend?”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Sorry! Sorry!?” Rarity expired, clomping her hoof delicately on the fractal flooring and turning her nose up into the air. “I’ve braved the snow in the grand quest for a book.”

“Well, you’ve come to th–”

She continued as though her friend hadn’t tried to respond. “And not just any book!” Rarity’s voice was dripping with dramatic flare, a singsong quality coupled her theatrical vibrato, “I desire only the most comprehensive, impassioned, and sophisticated volume on indoor plant care.”

Twilight raised her hooves to her temples and massaged them gently. She noticed already that she was suffering from a severe case of the thousand mile stare, as could be expected from her colossal state of fatigue.

“Plants?”

“Yes, I recently acquired a lovely aloe vera, and I would very much like it not to die.” Rarity’s voice flattened out somewhat, noticing something. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Twilight said unconvincingly, mindlessly fiddling with her book’s back cover. “Botany is categorized under the five-eighty section, which is right next the the basement door.”

A few uncomfortable seconds passed. “Twilight?” Rarity’s voice became soft and almost motherly, “Not to unnecessarily dredge up that avenue of sentimentality, but I’m afraid you don’t have a basement anymore.”

“Ah… oh! Right, of course.” Twilight laughed, inwardly cringing at its overtly spurious tone. “The five hundreds should be in block C, past the master bathroom and sauna. If you hit the bowling alley, you’ve gone too far.”

Despite being given perfectly good instructions, Rarity didn’t budge. Instead, she decided to perpetuate an awkward situation by standing in the exact same spot for another moment in quiet contemplation before she asked, “Would you mind accompanying me?”

Twilight reluctantly complied after injecting even more uncomfortable silent moments consideration, more out of spite than of trying to dispel the haunting demon that insisted on driving her into insanity. She soon found that she was short of words, simply because she was feeling very grumpy. A sadistic part of her mind (one she made absolutely certain was never used outside of fantasy) almost wished Spike was still around so she could abuse her despotic authority to order him to do something frivolous, pointless, and time consuming, just to let it be known just how grumpy and spiteful she was feeling.

She was grumpy, obviously, because it was already long past morning, meaning she was far behind on her regular daily schedule, which was not even to mention her resolution late that night to do something about her problem. The worst part was that even when she finished getting her friend the dumb book about the dumb plant, she still wouldn’t even know where to begin to fix the issue. This would indefinitely put her even further behind schedule, which would only make her grumpier, and the thought of being grumpier later made her even more grumpy. It goes without saying, and even with saying, that Twilight was a very grumpy purple pony princess today.

“I thought you didn’t like taking care of real plants,” Twilight observed. She knew she should have added something more into that statement or perhaps asked it in the form of a question in order keep a conversation going. Her overwhelming apathy towards the thought of repairing this faux pas served to confirm her fears. This ghost was affecting her social life as well as her schedules. Great.

“It was a gift.” Rarity explained. “Though, I would have preferred something a little more apropos. Roses, morning glories, or even salivas would have made much more sense than a…” Rarity pursed her lips as she tried and failed to hold a scowl over a conflicting feeling of amusement, “a cactus.”

In contempt of feeling unbelievably anemic from her lack of sleep, Twilight was still a pony of virtue. She would not allow mere weariness to bar her from repairing her friend’s misguided knowledge. As they made their way along the grand hall to one of the library wings, she acted on just that conviction. “Actually, it’s not a cactus. Aloe Vera is short-stemmed succulent perennial which is, in fact, a member of the lily and onion family, and has been used since ancient times to treat topical injures such as burns, bug bites and cuts.”

“Succulent, you say? Are they edible?”

“Absolutely,” Twilight repressed a sardonic grin of delight as she held the punchline for effect, “if you want to die.”

“Ah.” Rarity’s brow furrowed somewhat, and she bit her lip apprehensively. A conflict of seemed to wage war in her sapphire eyes for the next seven steps, until finally one faction claimed victory on the eighth. “Twilight, erm. I hope I’m not being too pert in asking, but is it possible that you might be... experiencing some certain hormones that us mares get every now and again? I only ask bec–”

An abrupt, lupine fury burned for vindication in the depths Twilight’s soul as she realized all too quickly what the unicorn was implying, “I’m not in estrus! It’s not even spring! It’s literally the exact opposite of spring!” Twilight’s vitriolic howl echoed riotously from the undiffused, crystalline walls, “I’m perfectly fine! Everything’s just dandy!”

Twilight’s eye twitched. Rarity shuddered.

“Ah!’ Rarity exclaimed from her shrunken state under the librarian’s glare, noticing that they had reached library block C before she inadvertently unleashed a tempest. She silently thanked her stars of circumstance for the divine egress which succinctly mollified her plight and allowed her to bury that attempted conversation broach forever. “Here we are!”

Twilight had her mouth open to continue her excoriation, but at the news, huffed and promptly stomped through the thick, elaborately embellished mahogany double-doors and into one of the libraries. Twilight knew exactly what book her friend needed.

“This is not the book I need,” Rarity said as Twilight passed her a book she didn’t need.

Twilight gave her a quizzical look, then gave the same look to the book. She then gave a terse grunt in frustration is she realized that she indeed gave Rarity a book she didn’t need, wheeled back to the bookshelf, secured the book she did need and passed it to her with magic. Rarity thanked her, and Twilight courteously abided the social obligation to escort her patron to the exit.

“Thank you again, Twilight! I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rarity said as wrapped her ornate scarf around her neck and trotted out the door. “Please don’t hesitate to stop by if you need anything. And I mean that sincerely, I’m beginning to worry about you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” Twilight said, halfheartedly waving as the satisfied customer trotted out of establishment.

Twilight had begun meandering back on up the grand stairway when a consideration of her situation kicked in, and realized the one pony that would be absolutely perfect to share her feelings with and acquire some answers had just walked out the door.

“Rarity!” Twilight called, accelerating to a brisk trot to catch up to her friend.

Rarity was a smart pony and was well aware that something was off about Twilight’s demeanor today. She’d made sure to be extra cautious around her capricious ruler while she acquired the book she needed, as sometimes great pains were required to keep Twilight’s neurosis gauge from teetering over to the point-of-no return.

“Darling,” Rarity’s mother used to say patronizingly, “if you play with fire, your tail will get burned off. No stallion wants a mare that smells like burnt hair.”

Rarity shook her head brusquely to rid herself of the lingering tendrils of that abominable reverie. She knew why she was being pursued. She took her chances in there, and now it appeared now that her gamble wouldn’t go unpunished. Deciding to bite the bullet and heroically confess to the sin she knew she was about to be chastised for, she blurted, “I know! I’m sorry!” She wailed as the princess fell in step next to her, “I have the money, but I had to find my scarf and forgot it on my nightstand when I left!”

Twilight was confused, “Huh? What?”

“My overdue fine for that novel I took out last month.” The unicorn’s lower lip quivered in remorse.

Twilight was slightly less confused, “Oh, the Daring Do book?” Rarity’s face was screwed into an aspect of profound guilt and fear, probably due to bitter recollections of Twilight’s first directive as a princess. The librarian had been frustrated with a recent trend of ponies borrowing books and then promptly not returning them, so she therefore concluded that commencing a fortnight-long inquisition involving each townspony that had ever set hoof or foot inside a library was the best solution.

“Don’t worry about it,” Twilight flicked her wings and cracked the first grin of the day. It still mystified her as to why Rarity would ever want to read young adult adventure books, but she knew better than to read into anypony’s literature preferences too much. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about, though. I just… could I ask you something kinda weird?”

Rarity had breathed a sigh of respite, “Why, yes! Please do.”

“Um.” Twilight blanked. As a pony that usually planned and practised conversations in her head before having them, she was really missing that preparation time. “How do you know when it’s time to meet somepony?”

“I presume you’re talking about courtship?” Her brow rose when Twilight nodded. “Well, whenever one feels ready, of course,” Rarity explained with ease as they journeyed down Ponyville’s main, snow-blanketed artery. “Keeping in mind that it’s important not to develop a relationship based on desperation. Especially if it’s with somepony you don’t truly care for.”

Twilight kicked a small snowball from the pathway.  “Oh.”

Rarity’s lips curled into a smile. “Am I imagining things, or is our Twilight Sparkle gaining an interest for a little romance in her life?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve just been having all these weird feelings lately,” Twilight elucidated. She told her friend everything, from her listlessness to her the feelings of jealousy regarding Fluttershy, and how it fueled her own desire to snuggle up to somepony of her own and fall asleep in their loving arms. She would later cringe at how forthcoming she was with that last one, but it was nonetheless true.

A tacit understanding of the princess’ more-snarky-than-usual mood made itself increasingly evident to Rarity as the story progressed, and asked quietly, “So if you were to be in the market for apples or oranges, which would you pick?”

Twilight blushed and couldn’t help giggling a little. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she responded, “They’re both good to me, really. But it’s not like I have a choice. It would be disastrous to have… that other side get out to the public. Imagine what they’d think if their new princess had thing for fillies.” Twilight’s eyes continued downward and she shivered, but not because of the cold. “Or what Celestia would think.”

“Has she ever given you the impression that she wouldn’t approve?”

Twilight’s eyes still bored into the wintry fleece, “Well, no, not exactly. But I think Equestrian laws speak in her place. If she was okay with it, the general population wouldn’t, and something like me dating or even liking a mare wouldn’t be taken too well.”

“I see you’ve given this some thought already,” Rarity mused. “At least you’re in the fortunate situation of being able to choose the more acceptable option. Have you considered of any handsome stallions around town you’d like for yourself?”

“Not really,” Twilight sighed. “I mean, I’ve met a few colts that I’ve been physically attracted to, but not in a way that makes me want to have a long term relationship with them.” She stopped. “Wow, that didn’t sound right at all.”

Rarity giggled, purposefully bumping her friend on the shoulder. “Oh come now, you’re a pony just like the rest of us. Just keep in mind that there is no set speed in love and life. The important part is not to rush into things just because you feel pressured. Experience for the sake of experience usually isn’t a very good experience at all.”

“Sure,” came Twilight’s impassive reply. “But I think I am ready. Even if it doesn’t work out, I’d at least want to try it. It’s worth the risk.”

Rarity nodded with a little smirk as they drew closer to Carousel Boutique. Twilight couldn’t help but note how beautifully the sumptuous establishment stood in contrast to the dazzling rays of the late afternoon. It was posh and opulent, fitting for Rarity, who deserved luxury more than anypony else she knew, except for maybe the only competitor for the hardest worker Twilight had ever met: Applejack. That particular pony and lavish decoration were mutually exclusive, though.

They had reached the front step of the boutique when its proprietor ventured, “Would you come in for some tea? I’d love to talk about your little predicament in further detail.”

Normally, an old habit of professional politeness would have led Twilight to decline such an offer, not even to consider the leering state of exhaustion that made her want to crawl into a ditch and pass into a coma until the new year. Desperation, however, was a powerful force. “I’d love to. Thank you.”

Rarity opened the door, and a dark premonition ran down Twilight’s spine.

As they stepped into the building, Twilight could immediately sense that something was off, and judging by Rarity’s expression, the unicorn had a similar feeling. Perhaps it was because there were absolutely no lights on, when the owner always kept at least the tea lights over the window displays alight at all times. Perhaps it was because all of the windows were shut and the curtains were drawn tight, or perhaps it was the absence of the sensation of being greeted and hounded by an exuberant Sweetie Belle as soon as she walked in the door. Or, perhaps it was the fact that the lights stubbornly refused to illuminate no matter how many times Rarity flicked the switch on and off.

A bit of fur stood straight up on Twilight’s back as she started to whisper, “Do you think–”

Rarity pressed her hoof to her lips as her magic lifted an especially sharp-looking umbrella from the metal tin near the door. An intermittent creaking sound from somewhere in the house reverberated through the still corridors as the two of them silently investigated to immediate vicinity.

Twilight soon found herself mimicking Rarity’s lead, which had their movements draped in a cloak of clandestine subtlety as they sidled across the wall adjacent to the door that fed into the kitchen. It became apparent that whoever - or whatever - had broken into Rarity’s boutique was still inside, and sojourned within that very room. A warm, orange light spilled onto the floorboards as the creaking grew louder with proximity. What tipped them off beyond a shadow of doubt that somepony was in there, though, was the sound of a cute little yawn. A feminine yawn.

Rarity made a few completely vague and nonsensical gestures with her hoof, but one thing was clear: whoever was in that kitchen was going to have a large umbrella forcibly inserted into them. Twilight briefly considered informing her friend of a rather curious excerpt she read in a book the other week, regarding how some ponies might actually enjoy that conduct for one reason or another, but quickly decided that this was one extraordinary instance where an informative lecture might not be a suitable enterprise. Perhaps she would expound on the topic when their situation was somewhat less dire.

One.

Two.

Three.

The sleuths charged into the kitchen, with master sergeant Rarity wielding the umbrella like a spear on the battlefield of a great pony war. The home invader promptly shrieked and jerked violently around in her chair, and it was a small miracle, or perchance a rare gesture of grace from physics, that the chair kept its balance and kept its occupier from spilling onto the floor.

Now, the sight before them was one of the most peculiar and unfathomable things Twilight had likely seen in her entire life. So much so, in fact, that the frantic blitz ended even faster than it started. One chair were placed on either side of a small table, upon such table was a silver trident crowned with three lightly scented (lilac, she surmised) candles. A glass flower vase with haphazard chunks of Aloe Vera stuffed inside complemented the ensemble. Two sets of fancy plates were laid out, along with the whole range, and proper arrangement of, formal eating utensils.

A beautifully tidied up mare sat at the table. She was wearing a breezy dress - not too overdone, but still much too elegant to be considered casual. A white flower with an indigo style crested her left ear, resting neatly between the crease and her neatly brushed mane.

“T-t, uh,” Rainbow Dash tried. “Hey guys.”