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My Little Prompt Collab(s): 'Shipping is Magic

by palaikai

Chapters

Push - Twilight/Celestia - Dark

PUSH

We lost.

I keep replaying the events in my head, trying to figure out where we went wrong, but I guess all that matters in the end is that we were forced-out. The others … I don't know if they're still alive or not, all those who remained loyal – what few of them were left at the end – to Celestia when Canterlot fell.

This distant forest, somewhere at the edge of Equestria, is our home now; a run-down shack is something of an adjustment after a fabulous palace, but it will suffice. It almost doesn't matter because we're finally together, alone, which is something I've been craving for years now. I know it's wrong, and I feel the shame coursing through me, but I can't help how I feel.

Something is wrong with her, though; it seems that the further we get from Canterlot, the more her mental condition deteriorates. I hope against hope that it's just a side-effect of the onerous war, that she'll eventually adjust to her new circumstances, but I'm not confident.

“Twilight Sparkle,” she says, her voice chipper, “what should we do today?”

“Uh,” I reply, uncertainty gripping me. Celestia is capable of moments of perfect lucidity, but they are few and far between. “Food,” I finish, affecting as sincere a smile as I can manage. “We need to find food.”

She approaches me; her mane is dishevelled and ragged, having long ago lost its sheen. The pure white coat is dirty and bedraggled. There's a madness to her eyes; pain and rage, hurt and loss, and it scares me. “I have a better idea,” she whispers saucily in my ear before nibbling on it.

I push her away, both affronted and aroused; I want her, with every fibre of my being, but … not like this. I want to cry, but I have to remain strong. One of us has to.

Celestia looks at me with a scowl. Her ire, even in her weakened condition, is a terrible thing and I brace myself to receive her wrath. “No,” she decides, turning to face the dilapidated wall. “You're not worth it.”

It's the single most hurtful thing she could've said, and she knows it. “Maybe you should rest, Princess,” I say, choking back a sob. “I'll have a look around.”

I'm about to open the door when a small, sad voice says, “Twilight?”

“Mm?”

“Stay with me. Please.”

She slumps down on the bed, exhausted both physically and spiritually, and I edge in next to her; Celestia puts her forelegs around my waist, holding me close. She can't quite look at me. “I'm sorry. I'm just … not myself at the moment.”

“I know,” I reply, blinking back tears. “It'll be fine tomorrow.”

But it wasn't. Still, it was better than nothing.

Asexual - Twilight/Celestia - Comedy

ASEXUAL

“Twilight,” Princess Celestia said with a calm that was verging on the infuriating, “what can I do for you this evening?”

Evening had come and gone. There was no way to slice it: it was night. And Celestia wasn't used to having irritable alicorn princesses – or anypony else, for that matter – barging in on her when she was trying to get some well-deserved shut-eye.

“Explain to me again what happened when I ascended?”

“We've gone over that,” replied Celestia patiently. “In some detail, as I recall.”

“Right. You combine the traits of all three pony races into one. A unicorn's magic, an earth pony's strength, and a pegasus' flight,” said Twilight.

“Yes,” agreed Celestia, struggling to comprehend what point – if any – her former student was driving at.

“I never asked at the time, and maybe I should have, but … what are the side-effects?” demanded Twilight, rounding on Celestia.

“There aren't any.”

“You're lying!” Twilight stated angrily before her expression softened upon realising that Celestia genuinely appeared to have no clue. “Or you're forgetting.”

“Forgetting what?” Celestia narrowed her eyes. After several thousand years of existence, it was true that some memories were foggier than others, but she felt she would've remembered if there were any downsides to being ascended.

Twilight sucked on her lip, feeling faintly embarrassed, but knowing she had to get an answer. If there was one pony in all of Equestria she felt she could divulge anything to, it was Celestia. They were like family. “I, uh,” her cheeks burned. “I don't get turned-on any more.”

“By who?”

“I mean, in general.”

“Oh,” said Celestia.

“More like, lack of.”

Celestia almost snorted in laughter, but realised it would be in bad taste. She tried to keep her voice perfectly neutral. “It's just one of the many changes you have to get used to with your new body, like controlling your stronger magic and learning to fly. Alicorns work differently, especially when it comes to sexuality.”

“So. Um, how long until …?”

“Hm.” Celestia appeared deep in thought. “I think, for me, it was about fifty years before I felt any, ah, urges again.”

“Fifty years?” exploded Twilight. “For at least the next five decades, I won't have any kind of sexual activity?”

“On the bright side,” Celestia said with a grin, “when it comes back, it comes back with a vengeance.”

“Dear Sister, I always knew you were the incarnation of pure evil,” Luna said, appearing from behind a curtain after Twilight had left. Despite her words, she was having a hard time containing a giggle.

“It's not often I get to play a practical joke on somepony, especially one as tightly wound as Twilight Sparkle. Look at it this way, at least when she starts feeling herself again in the next few days, she'll be all the happier for it.”

Daisies (1) - Twilight/Celestia - Sad

DAISIES

Princess Celestia didn't like to think of herself as easily spooked, but when Twilight Sparkle wasn't to be found in the library, her tongue hanging out in that adorable way of hers as she buried her face in a dusty old book, something didn't seem quite right with the world any more. She searched the castle grounds, the school – though it was a Sunday and even the janitor had gone home – and finally the town of Canterlot itself.

“Is everything all right, Your Majesty?” asked a concerned citizen.

“Have you seen Twilight Sparkle?” seeing that he didn't recognise the name, Celestia expounded, “A small purple unicorn filly with a star-shaped cutie mark.”

The pony thought for a moment then a light seemed to go on in his mind. “Ah, yes. I saw somepony very much like that heading that way.” He pointed a hoof in the direction of a rolling green field just beyond the train station.

“Thank you, my little pony.”

Celestia approached the hillside containing Twilight Sparkle slowly, not wanting to startle the filly; she seemed lost in concentration, eyes closed, her horn aglow, her tongue sticking out. In front of her, bunches of yellow daisies swirled through the air, caught in Twilight's magenta aura. The expression on her face tightened, and the flowers stopped their wayward dance; the filly brought them together until their stems were almost touching, and with a maddening delicacy, she began to knot them together into a chain.

It was a beautiful demonstration of her growing finesse, and Celestia silently cheered her faithful student.

“Princess,” Twilight said, her voice containing a faint trace of embarrassment. In fact, she seemed so abashed that she forgot to curtsy, something which – despite Celestia's insistence to the contrary – she kept doing. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see that your powers are truly something to behold.”

“I … it's nothing,” Twilight replied, releasing the daisy chain from her grasp. She stood up, straight and tall, with a poise that belied her age. “Shall we go?” she asked formally.

Something was troubling her student, but Celestia was torn between asking her about it and respecting her privacy; whenever she had problems, Twilight would often come to her first, even if they were comparatively trivial. Now she was silent, almost standoffish.

Fifteen Years Later

It had been about a week since Twilight Sparkle had moved to Ponyville permanently, and though she had her sister back thanks to the efforts of the Elements of Harmony, there was still a hole in Princess Celestia's heart that a lavender unicorn once filled. She stalked toward her room, ignoring the guards, even ignoring Luna, and slumped down on the bed. She felt old without the younger mare around.

Sitting on the nightstand was a glass case containing a daisy garland. Princess Celestia had done some research into their significance; it was unlikely the innocent filly Twilight had been when she'd made the chain fully understood their meaning, but she would know now. Just like she knew everything else.

Hesitantly, she brought her magic to bear on the case and examined the lovely sunflowers up close. Not a single petal had withered over the years.

Trail (2) - Twilight/Celestia - Slice of Life

TRAIL

“Why are we doing this?” complained Twilight Sparkle. The lavender filly was coated with a film of sweat and grime, and her hooves ached on the rough dirt trail they were hiking.

“Because,” said Shining Armour, cracking a toothy smile at his little sister, “your brain isn't the only part of your body that needs a work-out.”

As they trotted through the forest, Twilight couldn't help but jerk her head backwards every few moments; Canterlot Castle, set into the side of a vast mountain range, was still easily visible despite the distance they had covered. All things considered, spending time with her BBBFF was great – especially as his courtship with Cadance was monopolising his time these days – but she'd much rather be at home.

Close to the library. Close to Celestia.

“Bit for them?”

“Huh?”

“Bit for your thoughts,” Shining Armour clarified. His little sister had been oddly withdrawn lately, and part of the reason for dragging her out here was to try and get her to open up to someone whom she trusted. So far, the filly had been traipsing around with a hangdog expression.

“It's … nothing,” replied Twilight with a faraway look in her eyes. She affected a smile. “Where should we set up camp for the night?”

“There's a clearing just up ahead,” Shining said, deciding not to pry. Twilight would tell him when she was ready. Or she wouldn't. There was no sense in pushing her until she retreated further into herself. “D'you think you can get the tent set up while I gather some firewood?”

“No prob'!” With her burgeoning magical power, Twilight lifted the camping equipment from Shining Armour's saddlebags and scampered off to the open area he had indicated while Shining disappeared into the forest to gather up any loose branches he could find.

Having easily finished erecting the tent – Twilight had swallowed every book she could find on camping when Shining Armour had first suggested the trip – the filly decided to do some exploring on her own; really, she was trying to find a good vantage point to observe the castle. Was Celestia in one of the towers somewhere, looking out for her? Given the time of day, it was more likely Celestia was in the towers preparing to lower the sun and raise the moon.

Shining Armour found his sister sitting on her haunches at the edge of a cliff, looking forlornly back at Canterlot. “Twily, maybe you should step back a bit.”

“It's perfectly safe,” she replied.

He sat down next to her, trusting her judgement. “Are you gonna tell me now?”

“Have you ever done something stupid?”

“Have you met me?” He snorted in laughter. “What did you do?” he asked gently.

“I, uh, may have asked Princess Celestia to marry me,” Twilight explained.

“What?”

“I was reading a book on botany, and there was a section on the meaning of flowers. I, um, went into the countryside ...” She faltered.

“It's okay, you can tell me.”

“I made a daisy chain for Celestia, intending to give it to her secretly, but she found me before I could finish. I, ah, managed to brush it off as nothing more than a test of my magical power, but I was so embarrassed when it dawned on me what I'd done ...”

“Twily, you're just a kid,” Shining Armour said, putting a hoof around his sister's withers, “everypony has a crush at some point. It's no biggie. I'm sure Celestia wasn't upset or offended, if she even knew the flowers' significance.”

“It's not a crush,” Twilight bit out angrily. “I may just be a kid, but I'm not an idiot.”

“No, you're not,” agreed Shining Armour, pressing his hoof to her nose, causing her to giggle. “Sleep?”

“Sleep,” Twilight said with a slight nod of her head, not realising just how worn out from the journey she was until that moment.

Qipao - Twilight/Celestia - Comedy

QIPAO

It was unlikely that there would ever be an example of studied chaos as perfect as this again. Twilight Sparkle juggled a hundred different tasks simultaneously; while she looked cool and composed on the outside, she was a raging bag of nerves on the inside as she teleported from the kitchen to the supply closet and back again without missing a beat on the pot she was stirring.

Everypony who could possibly have helped her prepare had done so; they'd all offered to pitch-in, to spare Twilight from the hassle of having to cook – something that, despite all her varied talents, she'd never quite cracked – but she'd refused them, wanting to do this right.

“Twilight,” said Spike, “isn't there anything I can do?” His tone wavered somewhere between concern and fascination as, between her hands and horn, food items were sliced, diced, stirred, fried or otherwise manipulated in some manner. It was a testament either to Twilight Sparkle's magical focus or her complete insanity that she was somehow able to pull off the delicate balancing act.

“Why are you still here?” she growled in response, her high heel-clad foot connecting sharply with the young dragon's backside. “I told you to be at Rarity's an hour ago, did I not?”

“Hey,” he said, holding his arms out in a mock-hurt gesture, “I was only asking.”

Twilight quickly shot him a tender look before returning her attention to the task at hand. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I don't get to spend much time with the princess, and I've never prepared a meal for us. We either go out to a fancy restaurant or have something made for us by the castle staff. I-”

“You want to get to her heart through her stomach, right?”

“You're growing up fast.” A young teenager he might be, it probably wouldn't do the dragon any good if she revealed her true intentions: possessing the heart of Princess Celestia was one thing, but there were other bits of her anatomy that she hadn't even borrowed yet. If all went well, tonight might be the night. “Go on, scat!”

With one last glance at the bedlam taking place, Spike hoisted his backpack on to his shoulders. “Later,” he said with a wave of a claw.

“'Bye,” Twilight replied distractedly, barely noticing his departure.

It wasn't long after Spike left that there was a knock at the door. Twilight rushed to answer, and her jaw suddenly found something very interesting on the floor and it spent some time exploring those boundless depths before returning to its customary position. “Wow,” was all the Princess of Friendship could say, her wings fluttering slightly before she got them under control.

It was as beautiful a night as any Ponyville had seen before; calm, quiet, and with a beautiful vista of stars decorating the cobalt sky. Despite the complete absence of wind, however, Celestia's mane still flowed dramatically, twinkling radiantly under the moonlight. “Good evening, Twilight,” she said, her voice one of absolute lilting exquisiteness.

For a few moments, Twilight was lost. It wasn't just the mane, but the princess herself; with her alabaster skin, perfect figure – a figure displayed to its utmost by the red, silky, body-hugging dress clinging to and accentuating her every curve – and easy grace, she was the very definition of flawless. “H-Hi,” she tried, swallowing nervously. “Um, please, come in. Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes.”

Her tailor has the best job in Equestria, was all Twilight could think as her gaze tracked Celestia's movements into the library's dining area, following her long, slender legs all the way up to … damn, that thing fits just as well in the back. The princess' soft, creamy wings stood out sharply against the red, each individual feather looking invitingly strokeable.

“Can I do anything to help?” asked Celestia, cutting into Twilight's reverie.

“Huh? No. I have everything under control. Please, just make yourself comfortable.”

The princess sat at the table, smiling faintly. All these years later, and her former student still conspired to be as awkward as possible in a social situation. Even when it was just the two of them. It was so endearing to see that she hadn't changed much. Hadn't let the fantastic events of her life change her.

They ate, they drank, they talked. The wine had loosened her up a bit, but Twilight was still finding it difficult to think about anything other than the way that immaculately-fabricated gown adhered to the princess' frame. Normally, she would've been more interested in deciphering the symbols stitched in gold thread along the torso, but right now, she suddenly found herself wanting to study the Braille method instead.

“Is everything all right?” asked Celestia, her tone one of loving care. “You seem a bit distracted.”

“I'm fine,” Twilight replied, blushing slightly at having been caught staring. “It's just that ...”

“It's the dress, isn't it? It's a bit much.” There was something in the princess' sultry voice and impish mannerisms that made Twilight believe that she wasn't the slightest bit apologetic about her choice of apparel, nor the effect that it was having on her. “I told Sharp Style that it was probably going overboard.”

“No, really, it's a lovely dress. Gorgeous, in fact. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful frock in all my life. It's just that-”

“Yes?”

“It's just that,” Twilight said again, hoping that, this time, she would finally be able to finish, “it's making me painfully aware of what is under the dress, and I've been sitting here for the past hour trying to think of a delicate way to broach the subject of maybe, just maybe, getting you out of it so I can have a better look.” By the time she'd finished, her face had turned a bright red.

“Oh, is that all?” said Celestia, standing up. A yellowish light suffused her body and when it dissipated, the dress was gone. “Feel free to look as long as you'd like, Twilight,” she added with a slight grin. “Don't forget the back, too. You seemed to be quite taken with it before.”

For the second time that night, Twilight's jaw went on a merry trip south.

Longing (1) - Twilight/Chrysalis - Slice of Life

LONGING

The Everfree Forest was home to many things; some benign, some dangerous. There were very few sentient creatures in residence, however. It was an unnatural, chaotic place, completely independent from the magical whims of the ponies who tended to the rest of the Equestrian landscape. Very few stayed willingly for more than a couple of hours if they could avoid it.

Chrysalis – no longer a queen since the disastrous events that had seen her hive repelled from Canterlot – walked aimlessly, only stopping every now and then when her hooves ached too much to continue. She caught sight of herself in a stream, and wondered what had happened to that proud, noble bearing. The lines criss-crossing her face, the slump in her withers, was less to do with exhaustion and more to do with starvation. The cuts, the scratches, the dents in her tough, black hide, the muck and grime that coated the perforations in her legs …

While there was plenty of food and fresh water to be found in the forest, none of it quite met a Changeling's unique biological needs: they were emotional vampires, leaching off particularly strong feelings. In Chrysalis' – former, she had to remind herself – hive's case, they needed to ingest huge quantities of love in order to function.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent meal; the lonely months of wandering through the Everfree Forest had left her drained, and the being who had once gone hoof-to-hoof with Princess Celestia herself slumped to the ground, defeated. Love, perhaps the most plentiful emotion in this world – given so freely by the ponies, even to complete strangers – was denied to her.

It took her a while to realise that she was not alone. “I do not wish my last moments to be observed,” she said wearily, assuming it to be some small critter or other that would take one look at her frightening, chitinous visage and go scurrying off into the bush as so many had done before. When it didn't leave, Chrysalis turned to face it, intending to scare it off with a blaze of her green eyes. “You!” she croaked, not quite believing who was standing before her.

“Fluttershy was wondering why so many animals had been fleeing to her cottage lately,” said Twilight Sparkle, barely suppressing the shock of finding the Changeling Queen here of all places. “I guess that answers that question.”

“So sorry to be a problem,” muttered Chrysalis, letting her head drop to the ground once more. Her energy reserves were all but depleted, and she didn't intend to spend her last moments trading barbs with the wily unicorn that had uncovered her ruse and defeated her plans. “Very soon, I shall be nothing but an empty shell. My carcass will make an excellent nest for one of the rodents that infest this swamp.”

A look crossed Twilight's face. On the one hoof, this monster had manipulated her brother, impersonated a princess, had almost brought ruin to an entire kingdom and had attacked Celestia, but on the other … this was a living being who had been trying to provide for her subjects as best as she knew how. Now Chrysalis was starving, weak, near death and she needed help. Help that Twilight could provide.

Showing compassion to the enemy?

But it wasn't an enemy lying at her hooves. Nor a monster. Nor a queen. Just a scared, broken creature who needed rescuing.

Twilight's horn blazed with light and she enveloped Chrysalis in her teleportation field. They arrived back at the library, and the unicorn manoeuvred the Changeling into the bed.

“Why do this?” asked Chrysalis weakly. She wanted to sleep, but was afraid to do so in case she didn't wake up again. The warmth of the library was helping, as was the feeling of concern radiating from the unicorn, but it wasn't quite enough to fully revive her.

“Because I can't find it in my heart to hate you, or fear you,” Twilight explained. “I feel sorry for you. It can't be an easy existence.”

“No,” the Changeling agreed, “it isn't.”

“What will happen to your hive without you?”

“Those that didn't perish in the attack will regroup and fight it out until a new ruler is appointed,” Chrysalis explained. “They'll probably go back to being scavengers, digging for whatever scraps they can get in and around the smaller pony-inhabited areas.”

Twilight disappeared for a moment and returned with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cloth.

Chrysalis eyed her warily. “What's that for?”

“Your shell has multiple chips and scratches in it. If any of them get infected, the bacteria could eat through the entire thing,” replied Twilight.

It was fortunate that she'd spent so much time in the company of Fluttershy, Twilight reflected, as she got to work on Chrysalis' many wounds. While her technique was not as refined, she was able to get the worst of the sludge out of the cracks in the Changeling's shell without causing her undue discomfort. All that changed when Twilight approached one of the holes in her legs.

An animal howl erupted from Chrysalis' throat and she recoiled as if she'd been struck by a hammer blow, rather than a gentle brushing.

“Are you all right?” asked Twilight, waiting for the Changeling to calm down a bit. She was still panting heavily and her legs were twitching.

“I … I should have explained,” said Chrysalis, sounding … embarrassed? “The area around the holes isn't part of our shell, but is a rather a collection of nerve endings. They are extremely sensitive to touch.”

“I see,” said the unicorn, frowning. It made sense. With no exposed flesh on their bodies, the Changelings needed somethingthat would allow them to experience feedback from their surrounding environment. She bit her lip gently. “I still have to clean them, though.”

After a moment's hesitation, Chrysalis nodded. “Proceed. Carefully.”

The former queen tried to keep her cries to a minimum, but even the softest of strokes was sending tingles throughout her body; normally, the bundles of nerves had little more to deal with than the rush of air during flight. Direct physical contact was … unusual and Chrysalis had absolutely no idea what that sensation was pulsating through her spinal column, nor what that throbbing was centred squarely in her pelvis.

All she knew was that she liked it; loved it, even. And she didn't want Twilight Sparkle to ever stop touching her holes.

Caverns (2) - Twilight/Chrysalis - Sad

CAVERNS

Love.

To some, it was the greatest feeling in the world; to others, it was breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Queen Chrysalis had learned over the years that lovecame in just as many varieties as the multitudinous foods the ponies stuffed themselves with; each had its own flavour, and there were some that she preferred more than others. Not that she'd always had the luxury of being choosy.

Caverns that had once been nothing more than a damp, smelly hole in the ground were now a home, rich with the piquant essence of true love. Ever since Twilight Sparkle had given up everything to be with her – her crown, her home in Ponyville, her Element of Harmony – a void that Chrysalis didn't even know was there had been filled in her heart; her Hive was more content than ever, feasting richly off the mutual bonds of affection that flowed between the queen and the former Princess of Friendship.

True Love was a taste unlike any other; the only time she'd experienced anything remotely comparable was after months of manipulating a fragile heart into believing that it was in love with her, but even that left a bitter byproduct that was at times hard to swallow.

Chrysalis traced a hoof lazily down the lavender alicorn's body causing her to stir lightly in her sleep, exhausted after the events of the night before. Satiating the desires of an entire Hive was an intenseundertaking, but it was a sacrifice that Twilight Sparkle was willing to make, and the Changeling Queen's bosom swelled with pride at how well she had coped with the adjustment.

“Are you just going to look at me all night or are you gonna try and get some sleep?” the former princess asked sleepily, mulberry eyes unfocused.

The changeling hissed under her breath; she hated getting busted for staring, though she knew that Twilight didn't really mind it. The pleasure was in committing the act and getting away with it, but the alicorn loved nothing more than to ruin her plans. “D'you have any regrets? About what you've left behind?”

“I regret ...” Twilight started, then frowned. Articulating one's thoughts was always trickier when one was half-asleep. “I wish it had happened differently, that's all. My friends were supportive, even if they couldn't quite understand my feelings for you. Celestia, on the other hand … I think she felt betrayed.”

Looking around the grotto that was now their shared homestead, Chrysalis smiled. “It's not quite that fancy palace of yours.”

“That doesn't matter,” replied Twilight, snuggling in close to the Changeling. There were times she couldn't quite believe how much things had changed, but she felt in her gut that it was the right thing to do. Still, a part of her missed Ponyville and the friends she'd made there. “Home is where the heart is, so I've been told.”

Chrysalis' fangs brushed gently against her lover's coat as she peppered it with kisses, causing Twilight to moan softly. “You have to watch what you're doing with those teeth.”

“Do I?” asked the Changeling, a chuckle building in her throat as she bit Twilight's flesh just that bit harder. Love that hurt was spicy.

Twilight yelped, but not in pain, and her wings involuntarily unfurled. A blush broke out across her face, making her – in Chrysalis' admittedly biased estimate – at least twenty times more attractive. She pulled the alicorn close to her, their wingtips brushing against each other's, and kissed her passionately on the muzzle.

Her lips, just like her love, tasted sweet.

Role Reversal - Fluttershy/Rainbow Dash - Slice of Life

ROLE REVERSAL

My nerves are such that I'm afraid I'll fall through the bed of clouds, even though that's impossible for a pegasus pony. It's an awkward position to be in, and I'm not just speaking physically; I've dug a peep-hole with my hoof, and I'm pretty sure nopony can see me, but there's always that slight twinge of fear that I'll be discovered.

I guess that's what makes it so exciting. The thrill of getting caught. Making myself as vulnerable as I have is a rare thing, and I don't enjoy it, but the show is worth the risk.

A beautiful figure pirouettes in the clear sky below, a trail of pink and yellow blurring together in her wake. She's cut her mane and tail short, and maybe it's narcissism speaking, but the delicately-spiked tresses make her look even more gorgeous, framing her lovely face rather than covering it.

Fluttershy comes here every weekend to practice her flying; I didn't know where she disappeared to at first, so I decided to follow her – rude, I know, but as her best friend, I feel a certain obligation toward her – to this place one day. Curiosity, that was all.

Ever since the events of the hurricane, I'd been trying to push her out of the shell she'd cocooned herself in since foalhood; I'm gratified that Fluttershy has been taking my lessons to heart, and her flight skills have come on leaps and bounds. If she knew I was watching, she'd retreat back inside herself, so I can only – with much guilt – remain a passive observer of her aerial ballet.

What little common sense I possess tells me to retreat back to Ponyville, but honestly, could you turn away from that radiant smile and flushed expression? The redness of her face, the breath coming in ragged gasps, the flutter of her wings … it all conspires to put sleazy ideas in my head, and a surge of shame courses through me. I should NOT be thinking about my best friend in that manner.

When I started at flight school, Fluttershy was a year ahead of me, but she accepted me right away when my brashness – putting it mildly – irritated the others. I've always known that I was awesome, and humility didn't come easy to me, but that didn't stop the shy filly from befriending me, anyway. We took care of and protected each other from the bullies.

Until the sonic rainboom. Until she nearly died falling from Cloudsdale. Until she moved to the ground and I was having too much fun to visit her.

When Twilight Sparkle brought us all together as the Elements of Harmony, my relationship with Fluttershy picked up almost from where it had left off. It became stronger, even. On my part, at least. I don't know when my affection for her crossed the border from like into love, but Celestia knows I'd never tell her how I truly feel. She needs somepony like her: gentle, kind, attentive. Not an arrogant fly-girl with her head in the clouds.

My introspection is cut short when a timid voice says, “What are you doing here, Rainbow Dash?” Fluttershy was hovering just below my cloud, a frown creasing her face.

Busted.

Surprised, I almost fall, but my wings kick-in instinctively. Fuelled with adrenaline, my first impulse is to make a run for it, but I can't escape from that doe-eyed stare of hers. It isn't quite a full-on Stare, but it's enough to sap my will. “Um,” I respond dumbly, all the blood having vacated my brain in the meantime. How do I get out of this? Tell the truth?

“Were you … spying on me?”

I nod slowly.

“Why?” Fluttershy asks, looking perplexed. Who can blame her?

Words are slow to form, and I sense her impatience with me growing. Maybe she's getting a little bit too much assertiveness training? “I like watching you,” I finally say, totally not sounding like a creepy stalker. “Uh,” I correct myself quickly, “I mean, it makes me really happy seeing you growing more confident in your abilities. It, um, I'm proud of you.”

A blush tints her cheeks. “You mean that?”

“I do.”

“I …” Some of her old shyness returns.

“What is it?” I ask gently, wishing I could avert my gaze from those glittering blue eyes of hers. I'm pretty sure that my heartbeat can be heard across Equestria right now.

Fluttershy bites her bottom lip before replying. “I didn't think I would've had a chance with you unless I was a better athlete, so I've been coming here every weekend for months to improve.” Her face is practically a ripe beetroot by this point. “Rarity said that you would only be happy with somepony who could keep up with you.”

“Fluttershy,” I say, my mind not quite believing what my ears were hearing, “I like you because you're you. You don't need to prove anything to me.” I laugh giddily at the thought of all she's put herself through on my account. Because she wants to be good enough for me, not realising she's already my perfect girl. My forelegs reach out to encompass her waist and she lets out a soft yelp at the embrace she suddenly finds herself in. “I like you,” I say, placing a small kiss on her nose. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you, too,” she replies, returning the gesture and giggling nervously. “Will you … give me some more lessons?” Her eyes flash with a suggestiveness I would not have thought her capable of.

“It would be my honour,” I grin.

Foals - Rarity/Celestia - Slice of Life

FOALS

“Oh, Celestia,” Rarity said, before a blush broke out across her alabaster features as she realised who she was addressing the curse to. “Am I late for our appointment?”

“No, there's still an hour or so before we were due to meet. I wanted to get here early to surprise you,” the princess replied.

Rarity turned from the mannequin she was adorning with a frilly, glittering dress to gaze upon her marefriend. It was ridiculous to think of the Sun Princess guiltily teleporting herself to Carousel Boutique, but the unicorn understood why she did so: while Equestria would no doubt be overjoyed to see their ruler in a happy relationship, the intense scrutiny that would come with it would be unbearable to both. Plus, there was always the danger that certain elements would think that Rarity's increasing presence in Canterlot's snobby fashion hierarchy was somehow due to Celestia's influence and not her own undoubted talents.

“Please,” Celestia continued, “don't let me stop you from working. I love watching you.”

It was with a half-hearted effort that Rarity tried to finish the dress, but she gave up after just a few minutes. “Now that you're here, I see no reason why we can't start our date early. What would you like to do this evening?”

“There's a new Exhibit of Outrageous Creativity that has its grand opening tonight. There'll be lots of hoity-toity upper-crust art critics, but more importantly,” Celestia said with a grin breaking out across her muzzle, “there'll be a free bar.”

“That sounds delightful,” Rarity replied, clapping the hooves of her forelegs together, eyes sparkling as brilliantly as the polished gems she so enjoyed working with. “Give me a moment to get ready.”

For Rarity, a moment could mean anything up to forever. Celestia was sorely tempted to peek – a simple hyaline spell would allow her to see through walls – but she allowed her lover her secrets. There were two things you never asked a lady: her age, and why she took so long to get ready. The results were always worth it, after all.

Celestia decided to examine Rarity's latest creation: it was a small dress, just about the right size for a filly. It was studded with jewels, and the Sun Princess wondered who it could be for.

“You like it?” asked Rarity.

“It's beautiful,” Celestia replied honestly. “Your abilities never cease to amaze me.”

“Then, why do you look so sad?”

“What?” The princess looked at the unicorn sharply.

Rarity swallowed, wondering if she had perhaps been mistaken, but no, there was no denying that tiny sliver of forlornness that took hold just for a second. “No one else notices it, but whenever you're around something that reminds you of children, you always look upset. I was wondering why that was, but I'd never had the courage to ask before. I figured it was something you'd tell me about when you were ready.”

Celestia's wings fluttered agitatedly. “It's not something I like to discuss. Only Luna knows, and that's only because she's privy to my dreaming thoughts, not through choice.”

“I see. Shall we forget it, then?”

“You know how old I am.”

“One-thousand-nine-hundred-and-sixty-eight. Yes, I remember. Is it important?” asked Rarity.

“I've, uh, well, you know I've had dalliances in the past?” She didn't know why she was embarrassed about that all of a sudden.

“Of course.” Rarity wasn't jealous. Celestia chose her mates with utmost care; they had to be special, unique, brilliant in some manner to capture her attention. Rather, it was an honour to be part of her life in this way. The unicorn suddenly twigged. “I see. Some of those unions have brought foals.”

“Yes. Alicorns, as you know, are a mixture of all three pony races, so my children were either earth, unicorn or pegasi. Despite what some ponies have thought, they were neither born with exceptional magical powers or an alicorn's immortality.” Tears began to stream down her muzzle as she recalled the many names, many faces, she'd grown to love and eventually lose over the years. “They live, they find their purpose, and they die, just as a pony should.”

Rarity had always heard it said that the worst thing in life was a parent outliving their child. “Did they all have good lives?”

“Yes. I had a pegasus daughter who was captain of the early Wonderbolts, a unicorn son who was a talented magician. He was rather like Twilight, in fact, though perhaps not quite so bookish.” Celestia managed a lopsided grin. “All of them were good ponies, in their own ways.”

“That's the most important thing to remember, darling,” Rarity said, nuzzling against Celestia's neck gently. “That they lived good lives, and they brought happiness and pride to you.”

Celestia returned the nuzzle, wishing she could just remain in this moment forever, but she still had her own life to lead, and at the moment, that meant getting blind-drunk on free booze and a long night of intense snuggling. “Shall we go?”

“We shall, indeed.” Rarity suddenly halted at the threshold as a thought belatedly occurred to her. “Do you have any living children?”

The Sun Princess hesitated before answering.

Diamond - Applejack/Rarity - Slice of Life

DIAMOND

Applejack and Rarity ran, trying vainly to outpace the torrential downpour sweeping across the landscape. A bolt of lightning sizzled through the darkening sky, causing them to jump in alarm.

“There's no way we can get back to Ponyville in this weather,” Rarity said, having to shout over the rising gale that was threatening to knock her off her hooves.

“I'm inclined to agree,” replied Applejack, wincing slightly as the intense gust tried to loose her hat from her head. “Over there,” she said, spying a narrow slot in the rocks. “Should be big enough for us to hunker down if we squeeze.”

The thought of being stuck in a tight situation with Applejack after the disastrous slumber party at Twilight's library filled Rarity with dread, but equally, so did the thought of becoming a barbecued unicorn should one of those lightning bolts decide to go astray. “Lead the way.”

Inside the cave – though that description was giving it too much credit as it was barely more than a wide crack in the side of a mountain – was dry but not particularly warm. Neither of them were inclined to quibble, however, simply grateful to be out of the storm.

Rarity took her purple mane between the hooves of her forelegs and began wrenching the water out of it.

Applejack had to stifle laughter at the frizzy monstrosity it had become. “It's just not gonna be the same without curlers, is it?”

As if to prove her friend wrong, using nothing more than her own dexterity, the unicorn deftly knotted her hair into a close approximation of its usual curly style. “Nothing to it,” Rarity said proudly.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of rain echoing off the walls; a crack of lightning lit up the area around the entrance, allowing the pair a moment's view of the surrounding countryside. The storm was gaining in intensity. “We're gonna be stuck in here all night, sugarcube,” Applejack said apologetically.

“Oh, it's my fault,” Rarity said with a sigh, trying to get comfortable on the rough ground. “I shouldn't have dragged you all the way out here just for some stupid gems we probably could've found closer to home.”

“The horn wants what it wants.” Rarity had a keen sense for precious jewels, and her magic was able to direct her to wherever they lay in the ground. If it was a powerful enough drive to drag her this far from Ponyville, they must've been something spectacular. Maybe diamonds?

“Well,” said Rarity, sounding abashed, “I thought I had got better at controlling these impulses over the years, but I guess I can still be surprised by my desires … sometimes. Darling, what's wrong?”

“Nothin',” Applejack said, a frown creasing her muzzle. “Why d'you ask?”

“You're shivering. You haven't stopped since we got in here.”

“It's cold,” the earth pony stated flatly.

Rarity got up off the floor and approached her friend. She tsked at her as she appraised Applejack's condition. “You're soaking wet, dear. If we're going to be here all night, the last thing we need is you catching a cold.” Before Applejack could say anything, Rarity had torn her Stetson from her head revealing a clump of matted blonde. “Ah, that explains that.”

“What?”

“I was wondering how it could've been so much worse for you when we were out there the same amount of time, but the water has gotten trapped under that filthy mop you call a mane. When was the last time you washed it?”

“I dunno,” Applejack said, not able to stop her cheeks from reddening. “Working on the farm, I don't see the point in showering regularly. Only time I really make an effort is if I'm meeting up with the girls.”

“This simply will not do,” huffed the unicorn as she worked to loosen the coiled strands and dredge the water from them. It took longer than she'd expected, and there was a fair amount of frustration and yelling involved from the recalcitrant earth pony, but eventually Rarity got the majority of the knots undone and was able to dry Applejack's hair. “Better?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now turn around.”

“What?”

“Tail, too. It's in just as bad a condition as your mane,” Rarity explained.

“I'm fine, really,” said Applejack, a little louder than was necessary.

After much argument, Applejack finally relented and allowed Rarity to dry her tail; feeling the unicorn's surprisingly soft and delicate hooves at work sent a tingly sensation through her body, and it was difficult to stay standing still while she tugged, fussed and fashioned. “You, uh, almost done back there?”

“Just about,” said Rarity. “May I suggest that, when we get back to Ponyville, you consent to a spa visit? This really needs the care of experts.”

“I thought you were an expert,” replied Applejack through gritted teeth.

Rarity deigned not to respond to that, knowing that her friend was reacting simply out of annoyance. “There, done. Now we can sleep.”

“Great.”

The pair lay down and within moments, the cave was filled with the sounds of snoring. Specifically, the snores of a certain earth pony who probably could've slept on the lip of an active volcano if she was tired enough. Rarity tossed and turned; finding a comfortable sleeping position was all but impossible, and to make matters worse, the chainsaw buzz of her friend was scything through her sensitive ears. She turned once more and found herself staring directly into Applejack's face.

Celestia, if she had any idea how ridiculous she looks. She could probably fit all four hooves in that chasm she calls a mouth at once, Rarity thought irritably. And those teeth! And that tongue! I can understand not showering if you work on a farm, but neglecting basic oral hygiene is just too much!

“Uh, Rarity,” said Applejack, confused in her still half-asleep state, “what the hay are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep brushing up against me.”

“Oh, I'm just … cold, darling. Sorry.”

“I don't mind,” Applejack said, “I just didn't think you'd want to snuggle up with a dirty pillow like me.”

“I suppose,” Rarity replied, dragging out the suppose for maximum drama, “needs must when the situation calls for it.” She let out a yelp as she felt powerful forelegs snake around her body, pulling her in close. Applejack's soft tail went underneath her, acting as a mattress.

“Better?” asked the earth pony.

“M-Much, thank you, Applejack,” said the unicorn, blushing.

The warmth of the earth pony overrode any of Rarity's complaints about her smell and she settled into the embrace, a soft sigh escaping her muzzle. This close, she felt Applejack's heart beating against her own. For so many years, she had fantasised of a moment like this, only … Applejack would not have been her first choice.

Looking up and down at Applejack's strong, robust body, her unruly mane, and careworn, mischievous face, Rarity came to a conclusion: I'm going to have to revise some of my fantasies.

Steam - Applejack/Rainbow Dash - Slice of Life

STEAM

Rainbow Dash charged toward the ground; Fluttershy had been gone for a couple of hours now, and she refused to believe the alternative. Crying wasn't cool, and depression would only distract her, so she pushed any and all negative thoughts from her mind. Fluttershy was fine; she had landed safely on the ground, maybe she'd just hurt herself, and was simply sheltering somewhere until somepony from Cloudsdale came to pick her up.

The pegasus filly passed over an orchard filled to the brim with apple trees; she slowed down a little, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of her friend underneath the scrub. It was impossible to get a clear view of the ground from here, so she decided to land.

“Hey,” someone called out to her, “what you doin' round here, stranger?”

Rainbow Dash turned to see who was addressing her. It was a small but tough-looking earth pony with an orange coat and a brown hat pulled over her blonde mane. “I'm looking for a friend. Have you seen her?”

“I ain't seen anypony but my family,” the earth pony replied. “I'm just back, though. I can help you look if you'd like? Name's Applejack.”

“Rainbow Dash,” said the pegasus. “I've been all over town, but I haven't checked the orchard here or that creepy-looking forest.”

“What's she look like?” asked Applejack.

“Small, yellow coat, pink mane. Her name is Fluttershy.”

“Is she a pegasus, too?”

Rainbow Dash nodded.

“What's she doin' down here, then? Don't you guys normally stay in the nest until you're a bit older?”

“It's a long story,” Rainbow Dash said with a sigh. She told the story of the race and Fluttershy's tumble from Cloudsdale as they made their way through the tangle of trees, but she left out the bit about the sonic rainboom and her cutie mark. Now wasn't the time for bragging.

“I don't want to be a Negative Nancy, but uh, it's quite a ways to fall from Cloudsdale to Ponyville. Are you sure she's even-?”

“Yes,” Rainbow Dash stated firmly.

Applejack smiled.

“What?” asked the pegasus.

“Mighty loyal of you, comin' all this way to find somepony you've only just met,” Applejack said.

“It's my fault she fell. Loyalty has nothing to do with it,” replied Rainbow Dash with a shake of her head.

“Just callin' it like I see it. Not many would care so much about a stranger.”

“She wasn't really a stranger. I've seen her around school plenty of times, but up until I saw her being picked on, I'd never spoken to her at all.”

“And you decided to defend her honour, as you put it?” asked Applejack, her muzzle curling up into a smirk.

Rainbow Dash hissed through gritted. “Okay, it wasn't the best choice of words.”

“It's mighty sweet of you, sugarcube.”

Sweet, ew. Rainbow Dash blushed all the same.

Eventually, they came to a clearing by a stream; they found a small yellow filly sitting with her muzzle pressed against the surface of the water, gawping in wonder at the many types of fish flitting back and forth. “Fluttershy!” cried Rainbow Dash, bounding to her friend and pulling her into a tight hug.

“Rainbow, what are you doing here?” asked Fluttershy, awkwardly pulling herself out of the embrace.

“I came looking for you. Why haven't you come home?”

“Oh, sorry if I worried you,” Fluttershy said, cowering behind her mane as Rainbow Dash glared at her, “but I was just so caught up with all the animals down here that I … forgot.”

“We should be getting back. Your parents'll be worried sick,” said Rainbow Dash. She turned to Applejack. “Thanks for your help.” She offered a hoof to the earth pony who bumped her own against it.

“Okay,” Fluttershy said sadly.

Just as the pegasi unfurled their wings, a loud grumbling sound echoed horribly through the glade. Two pairs of eyes turned to Rainbow Dash and she reddened slightly and covered her belly with a foreleg. “Um, I may have skipped lunch.”

Applejack nodded in the direction of the farm. Steam was beginning to rise and the sweet smell of cinnamon floated through the woods. “C'mon, girls. Granny Smith's apple pies are to die for.”

Static - Fluttershy/Discord - Slice of Life

STATIC

The smell was always the first thing to reach him; delicately spiced, with just the vaguest hint of something earthy and sweet. It was a scent unlike that of any other pegasus, and he assumed it was due to how much time she spent on the ground. He didn't mind, though. In fact, it gave his nostrils a pleasurable tickle whenever she was close at hoof.

It wasn't so long ago that his mind toyed with the myriad ways he could kill the Element Bearers, but now … but now. Discord's muzzle curved into a faint, self-deprecating smile. Maybe the rest of them weren't exactly friends, and they'd forever regard him with distrust, but not dear Fluttershy. He found her innocence amusing, but it pricked something in the heart that he didn't even realise he'd possessed.

Normally, they would spend the day at her cottage, drinking tea and eating cucumber sandwiches while that nefarious rabbit of hers looked on disapprovingly. Draconequus or not, Angel Bunny's intimidating stare would be enough to unsettle anypony. This time, however, they were going to his place. Fluttershy hoped that whatever the odd subduedness was that had put a damper on their last few meetings would abate.

It wasn't a home as such, but it was somewhere Discord had found centuries prior and, until he'd met the shy pegasus, he would've named it the one thing in all of Equestria that he considered beautiful. Fluttershy looked into the chasm spilling away into an inky void below with a sense of trepidation. “This is where you like to hang out?”

“You don't like it?” asked Discord, putting an edge of mock hurt into his voice. He wasn't surprised that Fluttershy didn't share his aesthetic sense, but then, this was a mare who would go gooey over vicious, snarling beasts. And vicious, snarling Lagamorpha.

Not wishing to offend her host, Fluttershy said, “Oh, no, it's, um, very interesting. It's just a bit … plain. I mean, there's nothing but rocks for miles around.”

“The word you're groping for is boring.” The draconequus didn't sound offended.

“Well, yes. For you.”

“You're right,” Discord said quietly, his eagle claw hesitating half a yard from her shoulder. He doubted that she would find his touch unwelcome, but he wasn't prepared to push his luck just now. Discord had done his best to repair the rift caused by Tirek's enticements, and Fluttershy had said she'd forgiven him, but there was still that same melancholy in her eyes. “But even the God of Chaos needs a break from reality every now and then. Somewhere he can do some thinking. Or a lot of thinking.”

“What sort of things do you think about?” asked Fluttershy, settling onto the ground and unharnessing the heavy saddlebags. She spread out a check-patterned blanket that Rarity had given her and began setting up their little picnic.

“About the past, mainly,” he replied, sitting beside her and frowning. “And about the future.”

“That's very … cryptic,” the pegasus said, placing a few sandwiches on a plate and handing it to Discord.

“There's a lot in there,” Discord said by way of explanation, tapping the side of his head with his lion paw. He took the plate, examined the snacks placed upon it, then picked one at random and chewed thoughtfully for a few moments. He could, of course, conjure up literally any food – or anything else he wanted – out of the aether, but there was something about hoof-prepared meals that was just better. Maybe it was because of that one special ingredient that couldn't be manufactured from thin air?

Hours passed in a blur of sandwiches, biscuits, tea and idle chit-chat, and the sun soon dropped below the horizon. It was then that Fluttershy understood. The formerly desolate canyon was suddenly alive; harsh blue light shone from the bugs that made clefts in the rock their home, while strange creeping vines wormed their way forth in search of sustenance. Something approached her, a strange blue porcupine-looking thing, and it sniffed at her tentatively. “H-Hello?” she said.

Whether frightened off by her voice or suddenly realising it had business to tend to elsewhere, the porcupine-creature darted off.

“What do you think?” asked Discord, watching the emotions playing across Fluttershy's face.

The pegasus tilted her head slightly in order to get a better look at her draconequus friend. “It's wonderful. What was that … thing?”

“A bristlespine. They're pretty rare in Equestria these days. You're probably the first pony it's ever seen.”

“No wonder it was scared, then,” Fluttershy said with a shake of her head, amused at the notion that there could be a creature out there that found her terrifying. A thought occurred to the pegasus. “Did you … did you bring me all the way out here just to see it?”

“I brought you out here because this is somewhere special to me and I wanted to share it with you,” Discord said, turning away slightly from Fluttershy's gaze. “The bristlespine was just an added bonus.” He got up and walked closer to the cliff's edge. His teeth ground together as a totally alien sensation gripped his soul: nervousness. “Fluttershy, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time. I just don't know how to go about it.” He felt something on his shoulder; Discord turned to see Fluttershy hovering behind him, her wings quivering just enough to keep her afloat.

“You can tell me anything,” said Fluttershy.

Again, the blasted butterflies – ironically enough – in his stomach stopped him from saying those three little words. Was he that scared of rejection? Or did he just not want to have to admit the truth to himself?

“Sorry? I didn't catch that.”

Discord wasn't even aware that he'd spoken, even if it was only to mutter under his breath. “I said, I love you, Fluttershy.”

“I love you, too, Discord. You know that.” The pegasus was confused, wondering why it was such an effort for the draconequus to say those words. Her friends said them all the time to each other. It was no big deal to express your affection in those terms.

“No, you don't understand,” said Discord, his shoulders slumping as a sigh escaped him. Maybe he couldn't read minds, but he was aware of the texture of thoughts, and Fluttershy's were especially apparent to him. “I love you as more than a friend. I-I'm in love with you.”

“Um,” was all the pegasus managed to say.

“It's okay,” Discord said hastily, using a forearm to wipe his eyes. “I don't expect anything from you in return. I just wanted you to know is all.” He sighed again, but strangely, he actually felt good. Maybe nothing would change, but it didn't matter; just getting the confession of his chest was enough, and he felt lighter. Wait, I am actually lighter. “Fluttershy, wha-?”

He was silenced by a muzzle pressing against his own as he was carried into the air.

Wub - Octavia/Vinyl Scratch - Slice of Life

WUB

It's been her and me for as long as I can remember now; it doesn't even seem strange any more, and no one in my laughably small social circle events comments on the unusualness. My life is one of routine, and I'm happy with that. My hoof slides down her body slowly, tracing every delicate curve of that smooth, silky shape.

The need overwhelms me and I reach for my bow; ribbon meets string, and music forms in the quiet apartment. It is amorphous and crude. My eyes are half-closed, I am lost in thought, and I let my hooves do what they will. Sad, sonorous notes sing out. I balance the cello against my chest while I fumble around for a piece of paper and a quill. The task would be much simpler were I a unicorn, but alas, I'm just an ordinary earth pony.

I quickly jot down the notes I am playing, the scratching sound of tip on parchment almost a tune in itself; the composition is rough, but it's something I can later refine. Like an author redrafting their stories. Music is another way of spinning a tale, and it has to be treated with just as much care.

Time passes and I realise that I am tiring; the cello leans heavily against me, though the cold wood is an odd comfort. Perhaps it's just the satisfaction of the familiar? I sleep, dreaming of my passion.

Wake up. Practice. Eat. Practice. Socialise. Practice. Run errands. Practice. Come home. Practice. This cello is my life and it dominates every waking thought I have … at least, it did, until this moment. A pony I've never seen before. Beautiful, wild, untamed. An electric blue mane contrasts sharply with an alabaster coat; I can't see her eyes, covered as they are by a gaudy pair of sunglasses.

The feeling is similar to the one I had when I received my cello, only more intense. I find it strange that I can feel this way about something that isn't a musical instrument. Her cutie mark is two bridged eighth notes, and I wonder … does she embody something that has been missing from my life up until now? Should I … talk to her? How do you talk to somepony who can do this to you without even realising it? What would my friends say?

“Play it cool.”

“Just be yourself.”

“The worst that can happen is that she'll say no.”

I approach her, words – stupid, pathetic words that mean so little due to overuse – being discarded as I try to find an opening gambit that won't make me appear foolish. I'm literally two feet away when my vision goes swimmy; it doesn't take me long to figure out that I've managed to trip over something, probably my own uncoordinated hooves, and am now sailing through the air.

With a thud, I collide with the gorgeous alabaster pony and she turns to look at me sharply. At least, I assume so, though her eyes remain hidden from me. “Careful,” she admonishes me bitingly, “you almost broke my stereo.”

My eyes flit to the ground and I see a rather expensive looking sound system that she's presumably just acquired, given how shiny it is. Her anger causes me to recoil and I can barely even stammer an apology.

I beat a hasty retreat back home, embarrassment etched across my muzzle. I feel sick to my stomach, so much so that I can't even muster the energy to go to my one true love. I collapse into bed, sobbing pitifully, wishing that I could take back the previous day and do things properly. Safely, boringly. Ponies like me are married to their work; they don't go on dates, or fall in love, or find a Special Somepony. Yet we're expected to write music about that stuff? What's that sound?

Somepony is knocking at the door. At this time of night, it's probably Lyra after having had another drunken fight with Sweetie Drops looking for somewhere to crash.

“Oh,” I say, opening the door, and I can only imagine the ridiculous expression on my face at seeing the last pony I ever expected standing there looking abashed.

“Hi,” she says. “Um, I hope you don't mind me turning up like this, but uh, a mutual friend told me where you lived and I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I'd had kind of a crappy day after a long gig and I just wanted to get home, but that's no excuse for my rudeness.”

“M-Mutual friend?” I asked.

“Lyra. I told her that somepony almost trampled my new stereo today, and when I described them to her, she said, Hey, that sounds like Octavia. Name's Vinyl Scratch, by the way.”

“Well, I appreciate you coming all this way to apologise, Miss Scratch. Um.” Don't screw this up now. “Uh, would you like to come in for a drink?”

“I'd appreciate that,” she says, tilting her sunglasses slightly so I can see her exquisite cerise eyes, stepping past me and into my small apartment. “Cosy. Nice cello,” she adds, spotting it lying astride the bed. “We should totally rock out one day.” She grins suggestively at me. “If you love the wubs, that is.”

My eyes darted between the beautiful pony and the cello. “I think I could learn to,” I say.

Tirek - Octavia/Vinyl Scratch - Sad

TIREK

Thousands of years ago, a wise and much-loved king was lying on his death bed; before passing on to the next world, he had his son and heir brought to him to impart one last piece of insight before his elevation:

“Rule with love,” he said, “not fear.”

The son, as is so often the way, ignored his father and chose a different path. A darker path. Everything and everyone in his new kingdom, even the animals, was terrorised into submission. They lived in harmony of a sort, obeying the whims of their lord lest they risk his … displeasure. Despite this, the king was not content. There were still those that chose to defy his wishes.

The elements were brought to heel; the wind, the waves, even the passage of time were in his grasp. Controlled, enslaved, made to serve his own ends.

But there was one force that refused his summons, one aspect that would not allow itself to be controlled. Music. It could not be constrained, and it could not be reasoned with, so the king had it exiled to the dark places beyond his dominion. Without music, life's sweet harmonies and rhythms died away, becoming a drab, squalid thing with no purpose.

The people could not sing away their troubles; the king's guards were haunted by silence, even in the midst of their many, many battles. With no way to express their love, the king was driven to madness by the haughty silence of his many wives. What little joy remained had been robbed from his world and he sought to put things right.

When his messengers did not return, when his calls went unheeded, it was left for the king himself to make that journey into the darkness which lay beyond the known. Somewhere between life and death, between madness and reason, the king found the music and begged, wept, until it agreed to return to his land.

He awoke from a long slumber, tired and weakened from his experiences, to find that the music had indeed returned … discordant, violent, malevolent. His subjects' every word caused them untold agony. Birds fell from the sky, their songs catching in their throats. Waves crashed and died against the shore.

Before the king died, the music explained:

“In the darkness to which you cast me, I learned the meaning of fear.”

*

“Octavia?”

“Yes?”

“It's a little … grim, don't you think?” said Vinyl Scratch, struggling to comprehend exactly what it was she had just read. Despite Princess Twilight Sparkle's victory, a lot of the wounds Tirek had caused were still raw and bloody, and it seemed that they were getting to her marefriend in particular. As of late, compositions of this sort had been almost the norm. They were such a marked contrast to her usual, beautiful melodies that Vinyl was beginning to worry about Octavia's mental state.

Octavia inclined her head slightly, surrendering herself to Vinyl's embrace, snuggling close to her warm chest for comfort. “I'm still having nightmares. Without my cutie mark, without the ability to create music, I felt so … lost. Your purpose, your entire sense of being, stolen from you in an instant.”

Vinyl's hoof stroked Octavia's mane. “I know. I felt the same way. I imagine everypony did. But things worked themselves out.”

“But what if they hadn't?”

“There's no point worrying about that,” Vinyl replied with a shake of her head. It had scared her to find her talent taken away so easily; there were many ponies who were looking to the princesses for answers, for assurances that it could never happen again, but of course, they couldn't. Tirek was still alive. Imprisoned, but alive. There were many who felt that he deserved a harsher punishment. It was not the Equestrian way to seek vengeance, however.

“Vinyl-” Octavia hesitated.

“Mm?”

“Would you still love me if I wasn't a musician.”

“What sort of question is that?”

“One that I'd rather you didn't try to deflect.”

Vinyl Scratch took off her sunglasses, looked Octavia in the eyes and said, “I adore you for your talent, but I love you for the pony you are inside. Nothing, not even Tirek's magic, can ever take that away.”

“Thank you,” Octavia said, kissing Vinyl softly on the cheek. Tears spilled down her eyes. “Sorry, I know I'm just being silly, but I really needed to hear that.”

Garden - Luna/Celestia - Slice of Life

GARDEN

Is it that time already?

Luna pulled herself unwillingly out of bed, allowing the light from her sister's sun to warm her sapphire coat; a yawn escaped her muzzle, and her protesting joints demanded that she stretch them or suffer their wrath. One short session of prolongation complete, she looked out of the window to see a perfect azure sky. A sight that she hadn't been able to gaze upon for the best part of a thousand years. It really was the little things: a comfortable bed, the sky, the companionship of other ponies … her sister's love.

Igniting her horn, Luna drew a brush to her hoof and began to sort out the unruly tangle that was her mane. Some childish part of her wanted to look her best, even though it was unlikely Celestia would care about her appearance one way or the other. Her sister always looked so naturally graceful and at-ease, and it was something that Luna envied.

No.

Jealousy had cost her once. Never again.

“Are you up yet?” Her sister's lilting voice carried even through the heavy oak doors. Maybe it was some quirk of the acoustics? Maybe she was projecting it magically? It hardly mattered. It was the sweetest sound in existence, as far as the Moon Princess was concerned and she would gladly listen to it any time of the day or night.

With one last look in the mirror, Luna decided that she was as ready as she ever could be. Day one. “I'm coming.”

It had been something of a whirlwind; one minute, Nightmare Moon had been cackling something about eternal night. The next, Princess Luna, her mind purged of its ill intent, had been sobbing on the ground, begging for forgiveness. She'd kept to herself from then on; spending much of her time in study, catching-up on a thousand years of Equestrian history and advancement. Celestia had given her space, and Luna appreciated that. Their bond had been stretched, but it had not broken.

Suppressing an irritated sigh at how perfect the Sun Princess couldn't help but look, Luna followed her out into the cloisters adjacent to the royal gardens. Spring was in full-bloom, and a plethora of flowers sprouted from their beds. Some, the Moon Princess was able to recognise; others were new to her, either imported from lands that had been discovered during her absence or new hybrids created by clever horticulturists.

Yet another thing to learn about.

“Lovely day, isn't it?”

“Yes, it is,” Luna agreed. She fluttered her wings and affected a look of disdain. “Not as beautiful as my night, of course, but charming enough in its own way.”

Celestia looked at her sharply, but a grin broke out on her face when she saw the mirth behind her younger sister's eyes. “Ever the joker.”

“Old habits.”

The Sun Princess looked at her seriously. Having her sister back after so long was a joy she could barely contain, and yet, there was a twinge of melancholy lacing her happiness. She'd had a thousand years to regret and bemoan what she did; she'd had a thousand years to think, but never once had she considered just how she could ever make it up to Luna. All those lost years …

“What troubles you?” asked Luna, her voice low, concerned.

“I missed you,” Celestia said with naked candour, her eyes moistening.

“I missed you.” A thousand years spent hating the very name Celestia melted away so easily when one looked into those violet orbs.

The sisters talked and explored the gardens until it was time for dinner. Nopony dared approach them, understanding that they needed time to reacquaint. Afterwards, they headed up to the tallest tower in the castle.

“Let's see if I remember how to do this.” Luna's horn blazed with light and she reached out to the heavens, seeking out that distant sphere which had been her home for so long. Its touch was familiar, like an old friend, and she felt more attuned to it than ever as she raised it to its place of prominence in the sky above while her sister correspondingly lowered the sun.

“Every bit as beautiful,” Celestia said, a note of pride creeping into her voice.

“But nowhere near as beautiful as my lovely Celestia.” A thousand years on the moon gave one time to think, gave one time to reflect on their true feelings.

The Sun Princess looked away. Embarrassed? Offended? Finally, she locked eyes with her sister and said, “You're mistaken.” She approached Luna and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Nowhere near as beautiful as my lovely Luna.” Finding her confidence, Celestia added, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Luna replied, pulling her sister into an embrace and fighting back a flood of tears.

Space - Luna/Celestia - Dark

SPACE

The soft glowing light of the sun began to creep above the hills, forcing the gentle blue hues of the moon's radiance aside. Luna stared, her eyes blazing with a cold hatred that had been building up within her for months. The heavens themselves had been lit up with a meteor shower the likes of which Equestria had never seen before, and apart from a few insomniacs and astrology enthusiasts, nopony had borne witness to it.

What was the point? Why have dominion over a realm if nopony was there to appreciate it? Why painstakingly, artistically arrange every twinkling dot in the skies above if everypony was asleep while it happened?

Perfect, beautiful Princess Celestia approached – even though it was early in the morning, not a hair was out of place, her alabaster coat was practically glowing – the tower, only a stifled yawn betraying the air of cool confidence she emanated. Violet eyes glowered at her sister. “Luna, it's time to lower the moon,” she snapped.

The Princess of the Night quaked with a barely-contained fury. How dare she treat her like a subject to be commanded, no more deserving of her respect than a peasant. “No,” Luna said simply, her voice quiet but sharp enough to rend steel.

“I don't have time for your games, Lulu,” Celestia groused as if she were speaking to a wayward child. “Lower the moon.”

Luna ground her teeth; thoughts were forming in her mind that were partly her own, but were fuelled by something … other. Power surged through her body and tiny electrical sparks began to cascade around her.

“What are you ...” began the Sun Princess, but she she didn't have a chance to finish as a sphere of incandescent energy erupted from Luna's horn and travelled swiftly in her direction. She deflected it with a defensive spell, but it was no easy task. Panting, Celestia said, “Luna, whatever's bothering you, we can talk about it. You don't have to do this.”

“No!” howled Luna, lunging forth and plunging her horn deep into Celestia's exposed flank, right in the centre of her cutie mark.

A scream pierced the chill silence; scarlet began to blossom, staining that flawless white coat. “Why?” Celestia whimpered, tears leaking from her eyes.

“You ask why?” growled Luna, drunk on this new energy source coursing within her. Her mind felt strangely clear, though, as if a fog had suddenly been lifted. Celestia had been given everything. Power over the sun, a beautiful kingdom, ponies who loved her unconditionally; anything else she wanted, she took without a second thought. Even her own younger sister was just another plaything to her, to be discarded at a whim. “Look inside yourself, dear sister. Can you really say this day was not inevitable?”

“Luna, please ...”

“Luna is dead.” Beautiful sapphire turned to dark, dangerous black. “You will address me as Nightmare Moon!”

“I don't want to fight you,” the Sun Princess said weakly, trying to draw herself to her hooves despite the pain crippling her. “I just want my sister back. Please, fight this. I don't know what's gotten into you, but this is not who you really are.”

“You no longer have a sister.” Nightmare Moon's voice echoed along the castle walls, shaking their very foundations. With such power, she fancied she could tear the palace apart with nothing more than the sound of her voice. “You haven't had a sister for a long time.”

“What do you mean?” Celestia's hoof went to her side, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“That night you went to my, to Luna's room,” explained Nightmare Moon. “You weren't looking for her as a sister, you wanted more. You took advantage of a young filly's innocence.”

“I said that we would be the only constant in each other's lives,” replied the Sun Princess, a hollow feeling forming in her stomach as Nightmare Moon twisted the memories of a beautiful experience to suit her own warped perspective. “Luna understood that. She was willing.”

“You took, as you take everything else that you want.”

Nightmare Moon prepared to strike again, but Celestia's body floated into the air, propelled by some force other than her wings; her eyes turned every bit as white as her coat, and her body was suffused with a glow that seemed to both be a part of her and not. It was as if she were drawing in power from the world around her. A rainbow beam coruscated from from her horn, striking Nightmare Moon dead centre.

“I'm so sorry,” Celestia said. “I'm so sorry that I failed you.”

In a burst of effulgent light, it was over.

*

Nightmare Moon awoke. All around her was an empty expanse of white. She looked up to see the shining orb of Equus far above. Or was it below? It hardly mattered. She sensed the wall of energy, blockading the the world from her touch.

Very softly, she began to sob. “I love you, Celestia,” the last vestiges of Princess Luna said before they were lost to Nightmare Moon's toxic influence. “Do not forget me, dear sister.”

*

“I love you, Luna,” Celestia said, looking up at the moon. A dark shadow had begun to form across its pristine surface. “Come back to me, please.”

Stuck - Twilight/Luna - Sad

STUCK

Luna hadn't expected things to change overnight, but a year was taxing her patience. Not that she'd ever had a lot of it to begin with. Wherever in Equestria she went, she was met with guarded stares, if not outright apprehension. Foals who had been fed a diet of dark tales, she could understand, but the disgust she saw in the eyes of grown mares and stallions … she had tried to brush it off as no more than the anxiety one would feel around royalty, but seeing how openly they interacted with her beloved sister … no, there was no point in denying it any further.

They still saw the evil Nightmare Moon, not the reformed Princess Luna.

Hell, the word nightmare had since passed into common vernacular to describe bad dreams thanks to her actions.

Not that she would ever admit it to anypony, even to Celestia herself, but she was hurting because of this; anger, bitterness, resentment … these feelings would never dominate her soul again, the nightmare had ended, but despite this, she knew not how to go around convincing everypony of that fact.

Well, there was one pony. Twilight Sparkle, much to her chagrin, was – not to put too fine a point on it – enamoured of her. It was rather embarrassing, being the focus of the studious unicorn's attention; Twilight had a keen mind, and she absorbed new information in much the same way most ponies inhaled oxygen.

Twilight, when her friendship studies allowed, would often travel back to Canterlot to visit her family and Princess Celestia, but she always made time for Luna, too. The endless questions about the night sky that was her domain had made the Lunar Princess feel awkward at first, but very soon, she grew to love those long talks that would last into the wee hours of the morning.

What thrilled her most was Twilight Sparkle's attitude toward her; she never felt uncomfortable in her presence, never put on a smile to make her feel welcome, never betrayed a sliver of fear in her eyes. There was only the pure, unbridled joy of learning. Maybe even of comity, too? Luna certainly liked to think so.

One night, while they were sitting on a balcony, discussing the phases of the moon, Luna realised something; Twilight was babbling something about waxing this or waning that, and her mulberry eyes were radiating with such intensity that they shone as brightly as any of the heavenly bodies high above them.

The unicorn seemed unaware of Luna's discomfort and continued her spiel; Luna felt something stirring within her, something she hadn't felt in more than a thousand years. Celestia had tried to prepare her little sister for everything that she might face on her return, but her classes hadn't included affairs of the heart. Her brutal past would've served as a deterrent to all but the most determined of suitors, anyway.

So young, and already so brilliant, so talented, and indeed, so beautiful, the Lunar Princess thought, watching Twilight's muzzle move, but failing to comprehend the words. Luna realised that she was stuck: there was no way in Tartarus that she could tell Twilight how she felt, but at the same time, her bosom ached with a loneliness that could not be filled by her dear sister's companionship alone.

No, Luna told herself, Twilight's attention, her friendship, will suffice. Even if she felt something for me in turn, it could never work.

A delicate hoof-touch brushed against her foreleg. “What?” snapped Luna, shook out of her reverie by the slight contact.

“Sorry,” said Twilight, recoiling slightly from Luna's outburst. “You were zoning-out pretty hard, there. Was I that boring?” she added sheepishly.

“No, not at all,” replied Luna, “you were most interesting. I was simply distracted.”

“Nothing important, I hope?”

“Nothing important at all.” Luna suppressed a sigh, letting her heart break just a little more. She'd had a thousand years of it, and it was nothing she couldn't handle.

Nurse - Ditzy Doo/Doctor Hooves - Sad

NURSE

“I'm sorry, Miss Doo.”

“Isn't there anything that can be done?”

Nurse Snowheart sighed. It was the part of her job that she hated the most: delivering bad news, especially when it was to young foals. “The deterioration of the eye muscle has progressed too far for even surgical methods to repair. We can try corrective lenses to minimise the loss of your depth perception, so you'll still be able to go to flight school.” Snowheart tried to smile encouragingly. “But there's nothing we can do to restore the physical functioning of your eye.”

“But,” Ditzy protested, tears streaming down her muzzle, “all the other kids … you don't know what it's like. You don't know the things they say. The horrible things that they call me.” The young grey pegasus snivelled pathetically, wiping snot and tears away with her foreleg.

“I know it's tough,” the nurse replied sympathetically, placing an affectionate hoof on the filly's shoulder, “but they're just kids. They'll soon get bored of teasing you and find something or somepony else to mock.”

*

“And?” asked Bombolla, looking over her magazine at her daughter. She was trying to conceal her anxiety behind a hopeful expression; her little Ditzy had wanted to visit the nurse alone to prove that she was a big filly now, and so she had been sitting here for the past twenty minutes, reading the same page in the magazine and trying not to tear her mane out.

Ditzy shook her head forlornly. “They can't do anything about my eye,” she said as stoically as she could, but you didn't need to be a mother to see that a dam was about to burst.

Bombolla tossed the magazine aside and pulled her daughter close to her. “Sh,” she said, ruffling Ditzy's raggedy blonde locks tenderly. “It's okay.”

*

The memory of her mother's embrace was something that Ditzy fought never to forget, even in the worst of days after her passing; she still didn't know what had happened, only that, after getting home from school one day, she'd arrived to find police officers talking to her despondent-looking father while an ambulance crew wheeled her mum's lifeless body away.

Her father took to drink in a big way after Bombolla's death; Ditzy grew to loathe apples for what they did to her dad, and for what they made him do to her.

“I'm sorry,” he said, breaking down in a fit of sobs after another alcohol-fuelled rage had left his daughter shivering and broken in the corner. “I'm so sorry.”

*

“Hey,” a tall, muscular colt called out to Ditzy, who was simply trying to eat her lunch quietly, unnoticed, at the back of the cafeteria, “what's up with your eyes? I guess you don't even know where up is, huh?” Though it wasn't a very funny joke, his posse proceeded to burst out laughing, anyway.

Ditzy's muzzle turned cherry-red from the attention and she looked away, hoping that they would simply move on when she didn't respond to them.

No such luck, she thought as a meaty hoof connected with the side of her face; a stinging blossom of pain shot through her whole head as it snapped back viciously, and tears began to flow.

“Aw,” the colt said with a trace of mock sadness, “I thought that would've worked. Guess there really isn't any way to fix them. Worth a try, though, eh?”

A circle of three or four jeering pegasi had formed around the weeping filly; judging by the looks on their faces, Ditzy was certain that they all wanted to have a go at correcting her little flaw.

The leader of the little gang was just about to have a second swipe at Ditzy when his foreleg was restrained. Ditzy looked up to see another colt; he was a little shorter than her attacker, a little podgier, but his mien was one of barely-restrained fury. “Really? This is how you get your kicks, Crescent? By hitting little girls?”

Crescent Moon narrowed his eyes at his captor. “I'm gonna give you one chance to let go of my leg, Turner. I won't ask you-” He never got the chance to finish as a driven punch burst his nose open.

“Pick on someone your own size in future,” Turner said.

Ditzy was on her feet. “Please, don't do this for me. I'm not worth it.”

It didn't take long for Crescent Moon's compatriots to react; Turner was grabbed, thrown to the cloudy ground, and his body was repeatedly pummelled. Once Crescent had recovered sufficiently, he took great joy in returning the favour and soon, the pristine white fluff was soaked through with red. Even when the bell rang for the start of classes, the assailants were so lost to their fury that they completely missed it.

“Next time, bro',” Crescent said, delivering a swift kick to Turner's ribs that made him double over, coughing and wheezing, “think twice before you play the hero.”

*

Ditzy half-carried/half-dragged her rescuer to the toilets; she hoped he wouldn't mind that it was the girls' bathroom, but it was likely that Crescent, or at least some of his crew, would be hanging around near the boys' one. They weren't exactly serious about their studies and would avoid going to class whenever they could.

“You okay?” asked Ditzy, using a handful of paper towels to wipe away as much of the blood as she could. Soon, Turner's face was revealed to her, including his radiant blue eyes.

“Apart from the dizziness,” he replied with a rakish grin creasing his muzzle, “I've never felt better. How about you? That looked like a sore one.” His hoof went out to stroke the welt from where Crescent had beat her earlier.

“It's nothing worse than usual for me,” said Ditzy nonchalantly, pulling away from his touch.

“I-”

“It's okay,” snapped Ditzy, a little more harshly then she'd intended. “You don't need to tell me how badly you're feeling, or you wish there was something you could do, or how awful it is.”

“I was going to suggest, since I feel like I've just been hit by a buffalo, that we skip our next class and maybe hang out together.” He shot the filly a lopsided smile. “I know a place that does pretty good hayfries.”

“I'm sorry for shouting at you.” Ditzy looked away, embarrassed by her outburst. Turner was just trying to help, after all.

“It's fine.”

“No,” said Ditzy, releasing a sigh that had been months in the making, “it's not. Ponies have been queuing up to tell me how sorry they are for what I've gone through, but nothing ever changes. I'm sick of hearing nothing but words.” Her body was trembling with repressed anger.

Turner got shakily to his feet and Ditzy steadied him with her wing. “Doctor Hooves,” he said, offering one of his forelegs to her. “Time Turner's a nickname I picked up due to my fascination for all things horological.”

“Ditzy Doo,” she replied, encircling his leg with her own.

“May I just say,” began Doctor Hooves as they left the school grounds together, “that your eyes are the most beautiful thing I've ever known.”

Ditzy blushed. “By the way, do they do muffins at this place you mentioned?”

Power - Octavia/Vinyl Scratch - Slice of Life

All Octavia wanted to do was rehearse; the performance was only a couple of days away now, and she wanted to be at her absolute best. And it wasn't because she wanted to impress a bunch of moronic Canterlot snobs who couldn't tell the difference between a violin and a viola, but for her own sense of self-satisfaction. Making music was more than just a talent, it was the very core of her existence.

It was understood by all within the household that, when she was practicing, the basement studio was off-limits to all; even if Ponyville should come under attack by a shape-shifting demonic entity from beyond the ninth dimension, NO PONY WAS TO DISTURB THE SANCTITY OF HER LAIR. True, such things were few and far between – and mostly handled by the Elements of Harmony – but it held fast as a general rule for domestic bliss.

The desk in front of her, bathed in the relaxing beige glow of a work-lamp, was strewn with white; sheet music that had been annotated, scribbled, scrawled, balled-up, tossed, unfurled … all sorts of abuse had been visited upon the poor, innocent sheaves of paper, but they were necessary casualties in Octavia's war against mediocrity. She would accept nothing less than her best, even if it meant pushing her tired, tense body through one more sleepless night.

One more night without warmth and comfort. One more night without a tangle of limbs, working up a sweat, a soft gasp puncturing the silent darkness ...

Listlessly, the greyish earth pony strummed the bow against the strings of her cello. “No,” she said barely a moment later, hefting a sigh of irritation skywards. All of her music as of late had been sounding … same-y. She needed something new, something unexpected. She hastily made a few alterations. A diminished fifth here, a major third there, and soon Octavia was playing something with a bit more life to it.

A creaking noise cut through her sensitive ears, making her wince. Somepony had just opened the door to her practice chamber. Octavia decided not to turn around; logically, she knew that there was only one pony in all of Equestria who could be so brazen as to ignore repeated warnings – repeated threats of grevious bodily harm inflicted with a ten kilogram cello case – so she felt no need to actually confirm her suspicions. Instead, Octavia decided to silently stew. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The battle was already over, anyway. As soon as you gave your opponent the power to make you mad, you'd already lost. It was just a question of how you chose to accept defeat. You could either be graceful, or you could go down fighting.

A white unicorn with a mane of wild blue hair sat opposite her, appraising Octavia with a sly grin. The earth pony sensed that Vinyl's eyes were going to be laden with mischief, but it was impossible to tell for certain with her trademark sunglasses in place.

Operation: Annoy Octavia was clearly a go.

Resting her head on a hoof, Vinyl was content to watch her marefriend at work; Octavia still wasn't acknowledging her existence, instead she continued to pluck tunelessly and occasionally make small corrections to her notes. In fact, if Vinyl hadn't known better, she would've assumed that Octavia was doing a pretty good job of pretending that she wasn't there at all.

Poke.

The gesture is nothing more than a light tap with the pointed tip of her hoof, but it provoked no reaction whatsoever from Octavia. Vinyl furrowed her brow in confusion. Maybe I was TOO gentle?

POKE.

This time, the blow was enough to compress the soft, yielding flesh of Octavia's shoulder. There was no way she didn't feel that one.

Still no response. Maybe she's in The Zone and won't do anything no matter WHAT I do to her?

A series of pokes that became too legion to number later, and still nothing from Octavia, Vinyl began to pout. The attention that she was failing to get from the earth pony was only serving to fuel her desire to elicit some type of reaction form her. Clenching her jaw, her foreleg snaked out until the flat of her hoof was pressed against Octavia's cheek.

“What?” demanded Octavia sternly, turning to face Vinyl with an expression of anger masking her normally beautiful, classically elegant features. Her eyes were narrowed and dangerous, and she clutched the bow as if wondering where best to deploy it against Vinyl's body to cause maximum damage.

“Nothing,” Vinyl replied, the unicorn maintaining a steadfast calm under the circumstances. She tilted her sunglasses slightly so that Octavia could get a good look at the humour in her eyes. “Just wanted to make sure you were still alive in there, that's all.”

Her eyebrow twitching slightly, Octavia returned to her work. There were very few things in Equestria that could get under her skin in this way, but Vinyl Scratch was one of them. She often found herself torn between wanting to smack her upside the head for her boorish mannerims and ravaging her in a senseless, passionate fury because she was just so damned sexy.

“Have you ever thought about playing a smaller instrument?” asked Vinyl, an edge of light flirtation creeping into her tone as her eyes widened suggestively. “Something a bit more portable, perhaps? I mean, lugging that big, ol' case around with you everywhere you go has got to get pretty tiring.”

“At the moment,” Octavia said, forcing a calmness into her voice that she wasn't really feeling, “all I'm thinking about is how much of a mess it would be if I murdered you in cold blood right now.”

“That's not very nice,” replied the unicorn with a smirk tugging at the corner of her muzzle. Octavia's so cute when she gets nasty. Must be why I love winding her up so much.

Octavia shot her a look that was a mixture of irritation and pleading.

“All right, all right,” Vinyl finally said after a moment's hesitation, “I get it. You're working. You don't want to be bothered. I'll  go.” She finished her little spiel with a grin so wide that you could practically hear the squee.

“Thank you,” the earth pony said quietly, releasing a breath she didn't even realise she was holding.

Vinyl waited. Waited for the glassy-eyed focus to return to Octavia's mien. Now. She poked her in the cheek and this time the reaction was instantaneous. Octavia turned, her lips parted to offer some barb, and Vinyl pressed her muzzle against hers, letting her forelegs envelope the cellist's sinewy, sensual waist.

“Mmff,” Octavia said protestingly, feeling something squishy and warm enter her mouth, too stunned to either resist the kiss or return it. Vinyl finally pulled away, though a thin trail of saliva connected their mouths still. “What-?”

“What? You thought I was gonna leave without getting a kiss?” Vinyl got on to all four hooves and walked smartly off with a slight shake of her tail to further fluster her marefriend. “See you later.”

With Vinyl gone for good, Octavia got back to work … only to find that she could no longer concentrate. “Damn her,” she said under her breath and stormed out of the room in order to find the unicorn for some … payback.

Declaration - Octavia/Vinyl Scratch - Sad

Soft violet eyes stared out at the myriad puddles formed in the cracks of the train station's one and only platform; the soft hiss of steam was the only sound, and it wouldn't be long before … “Mares and gentlecolts,” the chirpy announcement began, “we apologise for the delay. The train from Ponyville to Canterlot is now ready for boarding.”

The conductor made one final inspection of the boiler's innards before nodding to the mechanic, who swiftly sealed it up. “Miss,” he said to Octavia, who was lost in her own little world. “Are you all right?”

“Hm?” replied Octavia, shaking her head. No amount of bobbing could pry free those dark thoughts which had become lodged in there as of late. “Yes, sorry.”

“The train is ready.”

“Thank you.”

Octavia sighed, pulling herself unwillingly to her hooves and pushing the trolley containing her one and only possession in the direction of the locomotive. To be the best at something meant making a few sacrifices.

The grey mare paid no heed to the clusters of ponies making their way to the passenger compartment as she headed toward the luggage carriage; a burly earth pony was there to help with the more awkward baggage, and Octavia thanked him as they manoeuvred the bulky case into position.

Just as she was about to place a hoof on the step leading to the passenger section, a shrill cry broke through the oppressive silence. She perked up her ears, and soon enough, the sound repeated itself. “OCTAVIA! WAIT!” She'd been expecting this, but hadn't looked forward to it. Not once during the trip from home to the station had she looked back, but now, she was being given no choice in the matter.

Making sure her face was perfectly neutral, she turned to greet the white unicorn mare with the wild blue mane who was pushing her way through the milling ponies to get to the train. “Vinyl.” She isn't wearing her glasses.

“Just a sec',” Vinyl replied, holding up a foreleg to ward of any chatter while she tried to get her breath back. Long nights partying and drinking weren't conducive to good health, and the mad sprint across Ponyville had left her winded. In one long stream, she blurted, “Howcouldyouleavemewithoutsayinganything.”

Octavia looked at her blankly. “I'm sorry?”

“So you should be,” Vinyl said darkly, panting now from anger rather than breathlessness. “Just a note. Not even … am I not even worth a proper goodbye to you? Did our time together mean so little? Was I just another notch on the bedpost?”

This was something that Octavia had been hoping to avoid. This was the one thing stopping her from going to Canterlot and fulfilling her heart's desire. This was why she'd written a blasted note and snuck out of the house in the early hours of the morning. If only the train hadn't been under maintenance, she would've been halfway to Canterlot and its fabulous orchestra by now. Her old life a fading memory in the distance. But no such luck.

“You don't have to go back there,” said Vinyl, her cool demeanour all but destroyed in a flood of tears.

“Yes, I do,” Octavia replied, trying to maintain a degree of stoicism. She understood now why Vinyl hadn't worn her trademark sunglasses: she'd wanted her to see this. The raw emotion on her face. The side of herself no one but Octavia was privy to.

A pair of hooves latched on to her waist as Octavia attempted to board the train. The conductor was looking at them with an icy expression and he tapped his fetlock despite there being no watch there. Vinyl wasn't all that strong, and Octavia could break her grip easily enough … but something other than the desperate DJ was holding her back. “Vinyl, I'm sorry. I know it was cowardly of me to break up with you in this way, but … I have to go. Please, let me go.”

“I don't want to.”

The wail broke Octavia's heart, but her spirit refused to be bowed; with everything she had, she tore herself away from Vinyl's grasp and boarded the train.

Glass separated the two. Octavia refused to look, not wanting to see those impossibly-confident eyes reduced to abject despair.

She looked.

Vinyl mouthed three words as the train began to pull away from the station.

A solitary tear slid down Octavia's cheek as she repeated them.

Accident - Ditzy/Fluttershy - Slice of Life

“Miss?” Ditzy reacted to the man's voice by tilting her head slightly, willing her woozy vision to focus on him. Rain and fog obscured the window, making it impossible to see the figure lurking beyond clearly. “Miss, are you all right?” His voice sounded strained, which wasn't all that unusual under the circumstances.

As far as she could see, wrecked cars filled the road; horns were honking, irate drivers reprimanded each other, the injured cried. Ditzy continued to grip the steering wheel, her greyish hands turning white under the pressure, panting heavily. Something cold twisted in her stomach, and for a second she feared that she had sustained some injury beyond the minor bumps and bruises she'd received from being knocked around the tiny cabin.

After a couple of moments and a series of deep breaths, some semblance of sanity was restored to her and she rolled down the window. “I'm fine, thank you,” she replied, shivering as the biting cold got in. Despite her reassurances, she couldn't stop shaking – not just because of the frigid temperature – and the urge to be violently ill overwhelmed her.

The man looked at her curiously, perhaps noting how her skin had paled, or the one-handed death grip she was maintaining on the wheel. “There's a cafe that's just a short walk from here. Maybe you should call your folks or something?”

Ditzy nodded. She didn't want to leave the car, but neither did she want to stay inside it. The accident had been a blur of wild colours, twisting shapes and discordant noise, caused by a mixture of terrible driving conditions and rush hour traffic. No one was really to blame for it, but all the same she felt responsible for all those vehicles she'd collided with while trying to get out of the way.

Grabbing her jacket and bag, Ditzy exited her parents' battered car and took stock of the damage; both fenders were crumpled, the headlights smashed, and the bumper was hanging at a listless angle. It could've been so much worse, but that was small comfort to the girl as she trudged along the muddy path to the cafe. A few others were heading in the same direction. She tried not to think too much about how badly her body ached. Most of it was just down to shock, she guessed.

The cafe was a haven of light and life, and Ditzy felt almost instantly better to be out of the cold; it was decorated in a retro-style that was all the rage out in the sticks, and she felt bad about the dirt she was dragging in on to the nice, clean check-pattern floor. Her blonde hair fell in ragged rat-tails, clinging to her face and neck, her blue shirt and green skirt were soaked-through, and she could no longer feel her hands. She sank gratefully into a maroon-coloured bench, closed her eyes and tried to relax.

“Can I help you, sugarcube?” a waitress asked, taking quick note of Ditzy's bedraggled appearance and looking down at her sympathetically.

“Oh, uh,” replied Ditzy, trying to force her scattered thoughts into some kind of cohesion. She had to force her chattering teeth to be still while she spoke. “Um, could I make a 'phone call?”

“Sure. There's a 'phone just to the side of the cash register,” said the waitress. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Er, a hot chocolate, please.”

“Comin' right up.”

After the waitress moved off to take someone else's order, Ditzy ambled over to the 'phone. Who do I call? Her parents were out of town on business, most of her friends were otherwise engaged due to the … her mental checklist came to an abrupt halt and she was just about to sit back down in defeat when another name sprang to mind. Quickly, she dialled the number before she lost her nerve.

“Hello?” came a soft, sleepy voice.

“Fluttershy, it's Ditzy. Um, I'm sorry to bother you so late, but uh, I've been in accident and I was wondering if you'd be able to … come over.”

“Oh, dear,” said Fluttershy, empathy and concern radiating through the 'phone line. “Are you all right? Where are you?”

“I'm fine,” replied Ditzy, the knot in her stomach abating somewhat at hearing the warmth of Fluttershy. If she wanted to, she could probably calm a storm with just a few sweet words. “Uh, I'm at this cafe just off route forty-two. It's near the interchange for Ponyville.”

“Got it,” said Fluttershy. “I'll be there as soon as I can. Are you sure you're okay, though?”

“I am. I'll see you in a bit.” Ditzy placed the 'phone back on the hook and let out a sigh. It had been a while since she'd seen Fluttershy on anything other than a professional basis; they had been good friends at school, but they'd drifted apart when their lives had taken them to very different places.

It was barely twenty minutes later that Fluttershy arrived in that dinky little hybrid of hers; Ditzy didn't even wait for the girl with the light yellow skin and luxuriant pink hair to get through the door, instead she immediately embraced her at the threshold.

Uncertainly, awkwardly, Fluttershy reciprocated, allowing Ditzy to sob into her shoulder. “What happened?” she asked, running a hand through her sodden blonde mane.

Ditzy led her to the booth she had been waiting at, where two steaming hot chocolates sat next to what looked to be like a slice of home-made apple pie. She nudged one of the mugs over to Fluttershy and started talking hurriedly. “I, uh, there was a mix-up at the sorting office today. The manager insisted on blaming me, even though it wasn't my fault, and after work I just drove off without really paying attention to where I was going. It started raining and I couldn't see, and … the car just came out of nowhere! I did my best to get out of the way, but I ended up hitting several more.” With a shaky hand, she took her mug and sipped at the drink.

Her belly couldn't even contemplate the apple pie at the moment, despite the rich cinnamon scent causing her taste buds to tingle in anticipation.

Fluttershy listened sympathetically, wishing that there was more that she could do than just lending a supportive ear. “I'm sorry for what happened, but you shouldn't blame yourself. I don't think anyone was seriously hurt in the accident, and most of the cars that were able to were moving off by the time I arrived. As for work … you'll just have to make your manager listen to you when you say that what happened wasn't your fault.”

“I wish I could be more like you,” Ditzy said. “Ever since you got with Rainbow Dash and the others, you've been more … confident, centred. Remember what you were like back in school? So shy that you couldn't even tell someone your name?”

“I remember.” Fluttershy smiled at the memory, only for the first time realising how much she'd changed over the years thanks to the efforts of her friends. That timid person was still a part of her, but Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle, all of them, had forced her to understand  that if she wanted something in life she was going to have to take it. Her face darkened and she hesitantly looked at her old friend. “I left you behind.”

“You didn't. It's what happens.” Ditzy wasn't at all sure she was masking her bitterness, but she didn't much care. “You meet new people, you lose track of the old ones.”

“I didn't want to lose you,” said Fluttershy, unexpectedly angry at the accusation. “I tried to keep you in my life, tried to make time for you, but you were always off doing something else. We had nothing in common.” She forced herself to calm down; there was no point in dredging up all this nonsense from the past, especially not when she was here on a mission of mercy. “D'you need a lift home?”

“I think the car'll be up to the journey,” Ditzy said quietly, annoyed at herself for berating her old friend the way she had. Fluttershy was out here at her request after all. “I just … needed someone to be here and I thought of you. Funny, huh?” There was no humour in her voice at all.

“Yeah. Funny.”

“Shall we go?” asked Ditzy. “Or d'you want to split the pie?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “I'm good, thank you.”

Together, they left the cafe and headed to Ditzy's car; Fluttershy winced at the damage, but Ditzy appeared to be correct in her assessment that it would at least make the trip home. “I really do appreciate you comin' all the way out here for me,” Ditzy said, lowering her head until she was hidden under a mass of blonde locks.

“You're welcome,” said Fluttershy dismissively.

“And I'm sorry for … well, I'm just sorry. For everything.”

“Me, too. You're right. I should've been a better friend to you.” Without even realising she was doing it, Fluttershy's hand reached out to take Ditzy's. It was still cold, and she tried to impart some of her heat by rubbing the fingers gently with her own. “You were-” Fluttershy's cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “You were always really important to me, and I should've done better to let you know that.”

Ditzy pulled away from Fluttershy's touch; not because she wanted to, but because it was stirring up a lot of old feelings that were probably best kept buried. “I should really get going,” she said under her breath. “I have to be up early for work in the morning. And I need to think about what I'm gonna say to my boss.”

“Will you call me tomorrow, please?” asked Fluttershy, almost pleadingly. “I'd like a chance to properly catch up with you.”

Soft yellow eyes met dazzling blue ones. It was a stare that was impossible to ignore. “I'd like that very much,” said Ditzy, and she meant it. Meeting Fluttershy again like this, after all this time, had inspired something within her; she wasn't one for believing in fate or anything like that, but perhaps there was more at work here than simply needing someone to talk to. “Tomorrow. After I sort things out at work. I promise.”

Fluttershy smiled. “I look forward to it.” As Ditzy entered her car, she added, “Have a safe trip back.”

Ditzy merely rolled her eyes and smiled her first genuine smile of the day. Maybe they could be friends again? Maybe … the way Fluttershy had taken her hand, there was the possibility that there could be more than just friendship in their future.

Jump - Octavia/Vinyl Scratch - Sad

It was one of those days in Ponyville: Celestia's sun was shining that bit brighter, the birds were singing in open harmony now that they'd been properly drilled by Fluttershy, and Sugarcube Corner was filled to the brim with happy ponies taking merciless advantage of the friendship discount Pinkie Pie offered to practically the entire town.

The only dark cloud Rainbow Dash couldn't buck into oblivion, it seemed, was the one that had been hanging over the head of Vinyl Scratch for the past few days; ever since she had returned from a gig in Canterlot, Octavia had noticed a subtle change in her demeanour. The DJ had been reticent to talk about it, though, and Octavia wanted to respect her privacy … even if she was burning with curiosity. They didn't get to spend all that much time together due to their respective careers taking them all over Equestria, but even when they were both in the same room it was beginning to feel like they were still apart.

Meeting at the bakery like this, it wasn't really a date; Vinyl was too cool and unconventional for that sort of thing, and she preferred to think of their little get-togethers as hook-ups. Mostly, they just talked, learning about each other's pasts. Neither of them had been in serious relationships before – although Octavia was learning that Vinyl was party to plenty of unserious ones – and at the forefront of their minds was the notion, “Don't screw this up.”

They received their snacks from Pinkie Pie who offered them a cheery, knowing smile in addition to the pastries (as she did every customer), but it seemed just that much wider to them. Perhaps she was getting a vicarious thrill from watching two ponies fall in love? Or it was merely a side-effect of the gorgeous day buoying her already suitably positive mood.

Any chance of it rubbing off on Vinyl, however, seemed doomed to failure.

“So.” Octavia looked at Vinyl, her hoof idly prodding at the fudge doughnut before her without really focusing on it. “D'you want to … talk?”

“Sure,” replied Vinyl distractedly. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

Octavia snorted in response. “Can you be serious for a moment?”

“I can, but I choose not to.”

“Why are you being like this?” asked Octavia, a trace of anger beginning to seep into her voice as she regarded the white unicorn before her. “You've been distant with me since you got back from Canterlot, won't tell me what's up with you, yet you still insist on dragging me to places like this.” She narrowed her eyes slightly and looked away. “Are you breaking up with me?”

The question caught the DJ off guard and she looked perplexed. “Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Good. I don't want to either,” said Vinyl, poking her doughnut until the creamy filling began to dribble out of the sides and on to the napkin under it.

“Vinyl ...” Octavia's eyes began to involuntarily water. “Tell me. Please?”

*

She ran. She knew not where; the city's architecture was beginning to blur together, and frankly she'd consumed enough that even without the frenetic pace navigation would've been difficult at best.

Running wasn't cool, but neither was getting your flank kicked in some back alley gutter in one of Canterlot's rougher districts (well, the best parties were held there). If she could just make it to the hotel, or even the train station, before they caught up …

No such luck.

They were mad, and why shouldn't they be after what she'd pulled? They were keeping level with her through sheer will-power; a lung-bursting effort that she could only grimly envy, even as they circled her. Cloying breath mingling. Brawny hooves at the ready.

In the cold night air, their blows felt twice as hard. Her forelegs went around her head, but to seemingly no effect; every inch of her ached, but still the flurry of kicks continued.

They weren't content with simply breaking her body …

There was the sound of something shattering, followed by something wet oozing down her face.

“Don't show yourself around here again,” one of them said to her. He wasn't even angry or out of breath. It was as though he were simply issuing a command to a subordinate, one that he expected to be obeyed without question. The note of Or Else was left to linger.

She crawled back to the hotel room, patched up her wounds and looked herself in the mirror.

Her sunglasses were beyond repair. Somehow, that bothered her more than the damage done to her eyes.

*

“Vinyl, take off your glasses.”

“Why?”

“I've never seen your eyes before.”

Hesitantly, Vinyl removed the sunglasses that she wore practically all the time. It was something of a jump for her to reveal herself in this way, especially in public, and her cheeks turned a shade of crimson as she did so. For a long moment, nothing was said until the DJ felt the need to break the silence. “Well, d'you think I'm ugly now?”

“What? Why would I?” Octavia was mortified by the suggestion. While Vinyl's fetching claret eyes would probably have stood out on their own, what was startling was how red the whites of her eyes were. Probably because of so many shards of glass getting into them, Octavia guessed.

The DJ was beginning to feel uncomfortable and she put her shades back on. She couldn't quite meet Octavia's gaze. “Because,” a hoof gestured roughly in the direction of her ruined eyes, “this is … hideous.”

“What's hideous is that this happened to you,” Octavia said firmly, wishing she could get her hooves on whoever had done this to Vinyl. “You don't have to hide yourself away from me. No matter what, I'll always be there for you.”

Vinyl's hoof reached out to Octavia's and grasped it firmly. “Thank you. That … just thank you.” She let out a breath that she didn't even realise she was holding; there were so few ponies in her life that she felt that she could rely on utterly, and she was glad that one of them was here now.

Octavia walked around the table and pulled the DJ into a loving embrace; she'd seen another side to her marefriend today, and it was one she was glad to have had the chance to witness: one who was capable of naked displays of vulnerability, of softness, in stark contrast to the nonchalant air she liked to give off. “You're welcome.”

Diary - Fluttershy/Rainbow Dash - Sad

Dear Diary,

First of all, I'm sorry that I haven't written in you more often, but things have been crazy busy the last few days. There was the coronation of Twilight Sparkle for starters! Oh, did I tell you that she's a princess now? It's really cool! Everypony's just so happy for her (and a little bit jealous, too, maybe. Especially Rarity (Spike was telling me that she was at the library recently looking for a spell that would give her wings)). Of course, she believes that she doesn't deserve this honour and keeps expecting the bit to drop at some point, but I can't think of anypony in Equestria more able to wither this sort of burden.

Shame that Discord couldn't make it to the celebration, but he said in his last letter that there was something very important that he had to take care of. I don't like to admit this to the others, but I really miss him and I worry so much when he's all alone. They don't see his sweet side, only the trouble he causes. I just think he needs somepony to keep him in check. Maybe me? If he'll let me. No, I don't see that happening. He hasn't needed anypony in tens of thousands of years, why would I even think that I could offer him anything? I just don't want him to turn bad again. In my heart of hearts, I think he's still fighting his own worst nature.

Secondly, I had that dream again. The one where I'm falling from Cloudsdale, like I did when I was a filly when I was knocked off the cloud at the start of Rainbow Dash's race with the bullies (I wonder what they're up to now? I haven't seen anypony from Flight School in years). Only this time I'm fully grown, but my wings just don't work no matter how hard I beat them. I'm resigned to my fate when all of a sudden I'm caught a second before splattering crashing into the ground.

I open my eyes to see Rainbow Dash's strong, confident gaze. She says something to me, but I'm so overawed that it just doesn't register with me. We fly for a short while until she brings me to a hillside overlooking Ponyville, setting me down underneath an old oak tree (out of curiousity, I went and had a look at the hillside and there's no tree there, so I wonder where that little detail came from?).

Oh, maybe it's from when I first came to Ponyville. There was a tree just like it near Sweet Apple Acres until Applejack kicked it down to expand the orchard.

We sit there in silence for a while, just watching Ponyville be Ponyville. I can't find the words to thank her for saving my life, but Rainbow Dash knows already how grateful I am. Don't ask me how I can tell, I just can. There are so many things I want to say to her in that moment, so many truths I want to reveal, but the same old fears hold me back.

Again, she already knows this. Maybe it's because we've been friends for so long? The slightest look has always been enough for her to see deep into my soul. We don't need words to express our feelings to each other.

She, uh … kisses me at this point. It's not a passionate kiss between lovers, nor is it a chaste embrace between friends. It's something more and something less all at once. Comforting, warm, tender. Hopeful? Expectant? I don't know how else to explain it.

Rainbow Dash breaks the kiss, then says something else to me that I can never remember, and this is when I wake up. I suppose my feelings for her are rather confused. I love her, but I don't know if I'm in love with her or just totally overwhelmed by the fact that she's everything I'm not: funny, confident, athletic. Pretty? She doesn't have to try to be beautiful, she just is.

Free. That's it. She isn't constantly weighed down by her own fears like I am, and that's what I find myself drawn to.

Well, thanks for listening.

Love,

Fluttershy.

*

“She only wanted you to see it,” Discord said in a low voice. “She made me Pinkie Promise not to let anypony else near it. She said to burn it after reading.”

“D'you think she'll haunt me forever if I decide to keep it instead?” asked Rainbow Dash wiping away the tears forming in her eyes. It had been three days since illness had robbed them of their dear friend, and only now did Rainbow Dash truly feel as though she understood Fluttershy. There was some irony there, surely, but she was too tired and depressed to go looking for it.

“Considering that she was scared of her own shadow, can you imagine what it would do to her if she found out that she was doomed to walk Equestria as a ghost?” Discord laughed hollowly, wondering what the point of having all this power was if you couldn't use it to save somepony you loved. “No, she'll be much happier wherever she is now. And I dare say that those who have gone before will find their lives considerably brighter with her around.”

“I'll see her again one day, won't I? And I'll be able to tell her how I feel, right?”

Discord looked into the pegasus' eyes. “You aren't thinking …?”

“What? No, of course not. She wouldn't want that.” Rainbow Dash placed the diary Fluttershy had kept since she was a filly on a bookshelf that had, until now, only contained the many volumes of Daring Do's exploits.

She could think of no better place for it than alongside another one of her heroes.

Chaos - Twilight/Chrysalis - Slice of Life

Chrysalis braced herself against the cold, her face practically disappearing into her woolly red scarf, wondering for the millionth time just what it was that had compelled her to agree to this chaotic little jaunt through the Whitetail Woods. The wind was fierce enough to almost knock her on to her behind, and her companion was lagging some way behind as her boots continued to stick in the deep snow. “Now would be a good time for you to grow a pair of wings, Twilight,” said Chrysalis mirthlessly, watching the girl – no, the young woman – negotiate each step like a newly-calved deer.

Through gritted teeth, Twilight replied, “And now would be a good time for you to keep quiet and focus on walking.” Of all the people I could've gotten lost in the storm with it just had to be Chrysalis, didn't it? If she could've avoided taking a mouthful of snow, she would've sighed in exasperation at this point. There were few people in the world who knew how to needle her as expertly as CHS' new gym teacher did.

“Let's face it,” Chrysalis said, drawing to a halt and trying to peer through the hail, “we've probably been going around in circles ever since we first got separated from the rest of the group. You of all people will know that, without the sun or moon, or any other frame of reference for that matter, it's nigh impossible to keep to a straight line.”

Breathing hard, Twilight had to sprint to catch up to where Chrysalis had stopped. Their fellow hikers – composed of a mixture of students and teachers from Canterlot High school – had, so they hoped, been able to forge ahead and make it to base camp before the blizzard had become dangerous. With the countryside buried under several feet of snow, none of the markers depicted on their maps would be of any use. As much as she hated to admit it, Twilight knew that her companion was most likely correct: they were probably retracing their steps over and over again without realising it.

Luck was not on their side either; the storm had shown no signs of abating, and if the way the sky was darkening, despite it still being the middle of the afternoon, was any indication it was probably only going to get worse. Twilight huddled deeper inside her jacket, wishing desperately that she'd thought to bring a few more layers. Say, nine or ten. There had been nothing on the news about this kind of weather, and all the forecasts had shown that it would be mild for the rest of the week. Twilight was under the impression that this was yet another one of those freak storms that blew in from the Everfree Forest from time to time. Someone needs to do a proper survey of that place one day, she thought irritatedly. So many freak happenings seem to occur around there.

Of course, the Whitetail Woods weren't any better at the moment. If it hadn't been for the battering hail, the howling wind and the perilous snow, it might actually have been pretty to see the landscape swathed in an endless expanse of white.

“Hey, uh.” Chrysalis frowned, suddenly unsure of what it was that she wanted to say. Not that she wanted to start thinking negatively or anything, but unless someone from CHS or the ranger service happened to accidentally stumble across them it was looking increasingly unlikely that she'd have the chance to say anything to anyone ever again. In these conditions you could barely see your own hand in front of your face, never mind find two people lost in the depths of the woods. “I, er, I want to apologise for all the crap I've given you since I got here.”

Twilight paused, rather taken aback by what she'd just heard from her colleague. “You? Apologising?” She raised her eyebrow sardonically, though the fact that her face was frozen stiff made it more effort than the gesture was ultimately worth. “You don't think we're gonna make it out of this, do you?”

“I'm being serious here,” Chrysalis said, her voice taking on a tone of mock-hurt as she playfully slapped Twilight on the arm. “I know I teased you a lot about being hot for teacher when Principal Celestia asked you to be her new assistant after what happened to Luna and maybe I went a little bit overboard with it.”

“Yeah, you were kind of a jerk to me,” Twilight replied, inclining her head slightly in agreement, though she felt far too tired, too cold and too drained to harbour any real sense of malice toward Chrysalis for her asinine behaviour. Plus, she reflected, she just wasn't the sort of person to hold a grudge. What was the point? Besides, the huge crush she'd once held for Celestia while she'd been a student of CHS was so obvious that it was probably visible from some bizarre parallel universe.

It was a crush that had gradually faded, however, much to Twilight's surprise; it had begun to disappear when Celestia had asked her to become the new vice-principal during Luna's absence. The principal had needed someone that could be relied upon as a friend, confidante, and was exceedingly thorough in every task assigned to her, no matter how trivial it may have seemed. Who better than the Princess of Books, as Twilight had been nicknamed due to her studious habits and fondness for libraries. “You'll probably end up living in a library,” was a much-loved taunt.

Chrysalis extended her gloved hand in Twilight's direction. “Friends?”

“Friends.” Twilight took the proffered hand with a wry smile. “So. Have you made your peace, then?”

“Yup, no regrets,” replied Chrysalis.

Eventually, through the endless sea of white, they were able to discern the opening to a cave; it wasn't exactly an ideal shelter, but under the circumstances there wasn't a whole lot of choice when it came to places that they could hunker down until the storm passed. Any port in a storm, as the old saying went. “Of course,” Chrysalis said, shooting Twilight a surly look, “with our luck there'll be a ravenous bear in there that'll tear us apart the second we try to cross the threshold.”

“Shall I call Fluttershy? She can talk down almost anything,” replied Twilight, feeling a slight pang of regret the moment she mentioned the name. “Or Rainbow Dash? She could barrel through this snow until we got to safety.” She suppressed a sigh as she reminisced over her dear friends, all of them having long since moved on from Canterlot to new places.

“Come on.” Chrysalis grabbed the recalcitrant Twilight's arm and urged her inside the safety of the cave. “You'll catch your death if you stay out there much longer.”

“Oh.” Twilight shook her head to clear the sudden downpour of memories she was being deluged with. “Right.”

*

The cave wasn't very deep, but it was incredibly narrow, so Twilight and Chrysalis were forced into some uncomfortably close quarters in order to get far enough into the hollow that the worst of the wind and snow could no longer reach them. They placed their backpacks in front of the entrance to provide additional protection from the elements; in the end, apart from the sharp rocks digging into their legs and backs, it was actually pretty cosy. If only they'd packed a picnic …

“How long d'you think this'll go on for?” asked Twilight, wishing that she could stretch out her aching joints, but was prevented from doing so by both the tightness of the cave and the proximity of Chrysalis. Any sudden moves and one of them was likely to end up maimed.

“Damned if I know,” replied Chrysalis heatedly, feeling the effects of the cavern a little more acutely than Twilight. She'd hated small spaces ever since she was a child. “They average about four or five hours, but given that this is a freak storm that no one predicted …” She hesitated before adding, “Some of them have been known to last for days on end.”

“D-Days?” Twilight's eyes widened in fear. Surviving five hours, even in the relative safety provided by the cave, was going to be a big ask.

Putting as much teacherly authority into her voice as she could muster – which wasn't a whole lot, truth be told, because she preferred to take a more laid back, nonchalant approach both at work and at home – Chrysalis looked Twilight straight in her pretty mulberry eyes and said, “Look, all we can do right now is try to keep our spirits up. Whether it's for hours or days, we are gonna be stuck here for a while and our energy is too precious to waste on fretting.”

For just a moment, Twilight looked at Chrysalis the way she used to look at Celestia. She shook her head as soon as she realised what she was doing and blushed, hoping that her companion hadn't noticed. “Right. You're absolutely right.” She took a deep breath and found, to her surprise, when she blew it out that a lot of her nervousness dissipated along with the rapidly evaporating crystals of ice. “So, uh, should we do something to pass the time?”

“Like what?”

“Um, we could play a game? Or tell stories? I mean, we're gonna end up going stir crazy pretty quickly if we don't find something to keep our minds occupied.”

“Fancy a game of I Spy?” Chrysalis asked sarcastically.

“I'm glad you haven't lost your impeccable sense of humour, anyway,” Twilight replied with a roll of her eyes.

Chrysalis pulled her knees up to her chest and folded her arms around them in order to keep as much warmth in as possible; she hoped that it was too dark for Twilight to see how on edge she was, and she quickly came to the conclusion that a distraction would be welcome at the moment. “Fine. Tell me a story. How are things going with Dreamy McCuteBottom?”

“With who?” Twilight's eyes narrowed as she ran through the list of people she knew; it took a moment, but then she remembered the stupid nickname some snotty girls had come up with after his, ahem, energetic dance moves during a music contest a few years back. “Flash Sentry?”

“Yeah, him. You two seemed pretty tight. When you weren't swooning over Celestia, that is.”

“I thought you were gonna stop that?” Twilight said darkly.

“Sorry, habit. Anyway, spill.”

Once upon a time, it would've been a sore subject to contemplate, but time, as it always did, had salved the wound. Her one foray into the world of dating. “He was too hung up on another girl. His first girlfriend, in fact. I suppose if I'd been a bit less naïve about romance, I would've cottoned on a lot quicker than I did that he wasn't really satisfied with me.” Twilight laughed sourly. “Actually, I haven't thought about him much lately. I mean, I was heartbroken at first, but after a while it seemed pointless to bemoan the fact that he'd ditched me for her. Honestly, I hope he and Sunset Shimmer are happy now.” She shot Chrysalis a look. “How about you? Seeing anyone?”

Shifting awkwardly, as much due to the cave as Twilight's question, Chrysalis said, “Me? Nah. Free spirit. I don't go for all that mushy stuff.”

“Rainbow Dash used to have that exact same attitude, you know?” replied Twilight. “Look at her now: married to a Wondercolt and expecting her first child. I don't think settling down necessarily means having to give up your freedom.” If she got out of this alive, Twilight decided that the first thing that she was going to do was look up all her old friends and arrange some kind of reunion party at Sugarcube Corner. It had been so long since they'd seen each other properly; after college, they'd promised to stay in touch, but as always real life happened and got in the way. Still, who could resist the siren call of Sugarcube Corner's hot chocolate and pastries? It would be heaven.

“You're drooling,” said Chrysalis dryly. “I wouldn't mind, but you're leaking it on to my shoulder.”

“Hm? Oh!” Twilight wiped away the sticky film of saliva collecting on her chin with her gloved hand and looked sheepish. “Sorry, I was thinking about Sugarcube Corner.”

“Ah, say no more,” replied Chrysalis knowingly. “I would commit murder to get at one of their pecan pie slices right about now.”

A hideous, echoing rumble filled the cave at that moment, and for a split-second Chrysalis was afraid that the bear she'd prophesied earlier had come for them. “What the …?”

“Uh.” Twilight blushed and patted her stomach gently, wishing that she'd been in charge of the backpack with the food in it. “Maybe we shouldn't discuss food?”

“Good plan,” Chrysalis said sagely and changed the subject. “So. Sunset Shimmer, eh? She was kind of a Queen Bee, from what I heard around the school, and I'm not talking about the insect variety.”

“You're one to talk. Ow.”

The Ow had been elicited from the younger woman by a sharp poke in the ribs courtesy of Chrysalis' bony elbow. The older woman shot her companion a toothy smirk. “You deserved that.”

“Fair enough,” said Twilight, wincing slightly and feeling as though Chrysalis had overreacted. She shook her head. “But yeah, Sunset Shimmer was a little bit difficult in the beginning. Once you got to know her, though, she was actually quite a nice person. She'd had kind of a rough childhood and liked to keep people at a distance unless she felt she could trust them. It took a lot for anyone to get close to her, though she finally mellowed out during her last couple of years at school. Mostly, the kids just remember her worst aspects, unfortunately.”

“I didn't have such a great childhood either. It doesn't give you a license to treat people however you wish,” Chrysalis replied. “People will use any excuse for their behaviour, but it's ultimately up to them how they choose to act.”

“What was it like? Your childhood, I mean?” Off Chrysalis' look, Twilight said, “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, of course. I was just curious.” Like I am about everything. I should just learn to keep my big trap shut.

“Oh, it wasn't anything terrible, really. I was just kinda … forgotten about, I suppose.” Chrysalis rubbed the back of her neck, unsure as to how to put her difficult thoughts into words. It wasn't something she'd ever spoken about before, and hadn't ever expected to. Still, that look from Twilight Sparkle was difficult to ignore. What impressed her was the knowledge that it wasn't even politeness, or the sympathy a teacher was expected to display when confronted with a problem, but the actual, genuine empathy that a person had to be born with.

“What you say to me doesn't leave this cave,” Twilight said, putting her hand on Chrysalis'.

“My parents,” Chrysalis continued, taking Twilight's hand in her own, “they were always fighting, and it was pretty obvious from a young age that they hadn't been happy with each other in a long time. Hardly a day went by without one of them threatening to leave the other, and I soon began to see this as normal.” Her chest felt heavy and the beat of her heart quickened. “I learned later that it was all my fault. My father was on the cusp of leaving when he discovered that my mother was pregnant with me. He couldn't bring himself to abandon us, but he, uh, made it repeatedly clear that he blamed me for the situation and for ruining his dreams.”

“I'm so sorry that you had to go through that.” People had this crazy notion that verbal abuse wasn't as harmful as physical, but they were so wrong; the scars it left often ran deeper, too, and could affect someone long into adulthood. Twilight realised that her own formative years had been, for want of a better word, perfect: her parents never argued, at least never about anything serious; her older brother was always looking out for her, even rushing to her aid whenever she was bullied at school; and her former babysitter, now sister-in-law, was about the sweetest, kindest soul on the planet. Add to that, five of the best friends one could ever hope for, and the most loyal, attentive dog it was possible to imagine.

“Naturally, I got out of there as soon I as could,” Chrysalis went on, “and I ended up getting myself into one bad relationship after another.” Names and faces flashed before her eyes: Tirek, Sombra, Discord. She seemed to attract the worst possible men. Manipulative, emotionally-needy, cruel. “They'd start out all right at first, but as soon as they got what they wanted from me, they were quick to turn into monsters. That's why I've not been in a relationship for a long time. I don't want to take the chance on giving my heart to someone only for them to step on it.” She let out a pent-up sigh. “Sorry for dumping all this on you.” That said, Chrysalis did feel a lot better for having got this off her chest at last.

“I just wish I could do something to help,” Twilight said. “If you ever want to talk more, I'll be there for you.”

“If you really wanna help, you could let me use you as a pillow,” Chrysalis said, arching her back until a satisfying click reverberated through her spine. “I'm bushed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Twilight with a slight shake of her head. She lifted up her arm to allow Chrysalis to rest her head against her side, however; with nothing else for it, once the woman had gotten herself into a snug half-sitting/half-lying position, she let the arm go around Chrysalis' shoulders. “Comfy?”

“Eh, it'll do,” Chrysalis, who was already beginning to nod-off, replied with a tired smile. “You might want to get some shut-eye, too. From the sound of things, this storm's going to be an all-nighter.”

So wrapped up had she been in Chrysalis' story, Twilight had completely forgotten about the storm raging outside; she shifted her legs until they were a bit more comfortable, and less prone to having her legs jabbed by the plethora of stones dotted around the cave floor, then placed her head atop Chrysalis'. The wind blowing past, coupled with Chrysalis' light breathing, was oddly comforting and the sounds lulled Twilight to sleep.

Just before drifting off, she heard two words, “Thank you.”

Princess - Octavia/Vinyl Scratch - Slice of Life

Vinyl Scratch couldn't remember the last time she'd experienced so many butterflies in her tummy at one time; even that fancy shindig in Canterlot couldn't compare to this, and that had been an honest-to-goodness royal wedding for crying out loud! By sheer coincidence, her current trepidation also happened to involve castles, weddings and the aristocracy. Sucking a deep breathing into her reluctant lungs, she gingerly approached the gleaming Castle of Friendship and knocked politely on the door.

“Good morning, Vinyl,” Spike said upon answering the door. The dragon ushered the unicorn inside and led her to a small, but well-appointed sitting room. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but Twilight's finishing up some last minute reports for Princess Celestia. Can I get you a cup of tea or anything else?”

You wouldn't happen to have a keg of hard cider just lying about the place, would you? “No, thank you, Spike,” replied Vinyl with a shake of her head. As the dragon disappeared into the castle's innards, no doubt to inform Twilight of her arrival, Vinyl took the opportunity to have a quick look around the place; it was clear that its owners were still in the process of moving in, and she suspected that this might be the only room that was properly furnished for visitors.

Running through the breathing exercises taught to her by Lyra, Vinyl wondered when it was that she'd started noticing just how much stress she was under. The coolest cucumber in Ponyville, who had DJ'd parties at some of the roughest nightclubs in Equestria and lived to tell the tale, was actually checking her pulse every ten minutes to make sure that her heart wasn't on the verge of exploding.

Then again, it's not every day that you're sitting in a crystal castle waiting for an audience with a princess, she reflected sagely, rubbing her cold forehooves together until a flicker of warmth spread through them. Especially considering what I have to talk to her about.

“I'm so sorry for making you wait,” Twilight Sparkle said, looking about as regal as a dishevelled, sleep-worn alicorn could do. Still, she made a fair hoof of entering with as much dignity and élan was was possible. “That's something they don't tell you about being a princess in fairytales: there's a heck of a lot of paperwork involved with even the smallest of decisions.”

“I can imagine,” said Vinyl, greeting Twilight with a slight bow. She probably didn't look much better than the Princess of Friendship, anyway; the long nights of preparation, coupled with maintaining her work, hobbies and social life, had meant she'd been seeing less and less of her bed lately. If it weren't for the trademark sunglasses, everypony in Ponyville would see her tired, bloodshot eyes, and the beginnings of crow's feet.

“You don't have to bow. It's awkward enough with strangers, never mind friends,” said Twilight uneasily. In formal settings, it was almost mandatory for a supplicant to prostrate themselves before their ruler, but it was an aspect of royal protocol that Twilight was very uneasy about and she'd said so many times to Celestia about changing it. Just a couple of years ago, she'd been a shy, socially awkward unicorn; so wrapped up in her studies, in fact, that her acquaintanceship with the real world barely approached nodding terms, but all that had changed with what was supposed to be a short trip to Ponyville to oversee the Summer Sun Celebrations. “Uh, do you want to talk here or shall we go through to the throne room?” Twilight looked faintly embarrassed.

“I'm fine with here,” said Vinyl, biting down harder than she'd intended on her bottom lip. “It's, um, very comfortable.”

“Yes, it is.” Twilight nodded in agreement, her tiny smile suggesting that she was relieved.

“What's wrong with it?”

“With what?”

“The throne room. Sorry, you just looked a little bit queasy when you mentioned it just now,” said Vinyl.

“There's nothing wrong with it, per se, but … I really hate the idea of having to sit on that big, crystal throne and look down at other ponies like they're-”

“-commoners?”

“Mm, exactly.”

“Isn't it one of the perks of the job, though?” asked Vinyl with a wide grin. “I mean, getting to boss everypony around and-” She trailed off, noticing the aghast look on Twilight's face. “I was kidding.”

“I know, but I'm still getting used to all of this.” Twilight shook her head to try and clear it. It didn't matter how many times she spoke to Celestia, Luna or Cadance, she was simply resigned to the fact that she probably wouldn't be a very good princess in the end. “Anyway, what can I do for you?” She sank gratefully into a cushy seat opposite Vinyl.

“Okay, uh.” I can do this! I can do this! I can do this!

“Are you all right?” asked Twilight, looking concerned.

“Huh? Yeah, why?” Vinyl blinked. Even my eyelids are sweaty.

“You're hyperventilating.”

“Sorry.”

“It's not a problem. At least, not for me. It could mean that you have alkalosis, diabetes or heart failure, though. Those would be problems.”

Vinyl just stared at Twilight Sparkle, unsure as to whether or not it was appropriate to laugh in a princess' face. She'd always had the tendency to babble when she was nervous, and it seemed to be one habit that she was never going to break. Despite being a bearer of an Element of Harmony, despite the Rainbow Power, despite receiving Celestia's blessing and becoming an alicorn, Twilight still wasn't used to ponies in need coming to her for aid. How will she cope with a marriage proposal, then? “Twilight, I want you to marry me!” Vinyl flushed slightly, realising what she'd said. “Sorry, I mean, marry us.”

“You mean, you want me to perform the ceremony?” Twilight asked in surprise.

“Yes.”

“But I've never done one before,” she said quietly. A frown crossed Twilight's face. “What if I screw it up? I don't want to ruin your special day.”

“We know this is kind of a big thing we're asking you, but you're our princess, our saviour, and more importantly than all that, you're our friend. Octavia and I have talked about it a lot and we would be honoured to have you preside over our wedding.” The corner of Vinyl's mouth twitched. “Besides, with Pinkie Pie doing the catering and Rainbow Dash handling the entertainment, there are plenty of other opportunities for stuff to go wrong.”

Twilight made a noise in her throat.

With a more serious tone, Vinyl said, “Look, you're scared. I know you're worried about making a mistake, but no more than I was when I asked Octavia to marry me in the first place. You can't let fear hold you back. As the Princess of Ponyville, you're gonna have to do something like this sooner or late, so why not start with two ponies who love you and will cut you a little slack if you aren't pitch perfect?”

Releasing a pent-up sigh, Twilight found herself feeling a lot better. “You're right, Vinyl. It's just that, ever since getting the castle, the whole princess-thing is a big deal in a way that it wasn't before. I mean, foals running around and asking for my autograph is harmless and silly, but having this thing-” she stamped her hoof on the floor “-reminding everypony that there's royalty here … I'm so afraid of letting everypony down that I keep trying to duck any sense of responsibility I may have.”

“I know this is in no way the same as your situation, but the first time I was asked to headline a gig I was nervous as heck,” said Vinyl, scratching the back of her neck. “I couldn't sleep the entire night before, I kept hoping I would fall ill or get in an accident so that I would have a good excuse for cancelling, but in the end I just had to suck it up and do it.”

“And how did it go?” asked Twilight.

“To be honest?” Vinyl raised her eyebrow. “I drank so much that the entire night's just a blur to me. But hey, I'm still DJ-ing, so it must've gone all right.”

As inspirational stories went, Twilight reckoned it was probably one of the worst she'd ever heard, and she couldn't stop herself from chuckling loudly. Fortunately, Vinyl soon joined in, and they laughed for a good few moments. Sometimes, there just wasn't anything to do but snicker at the ridiculousness of a life that saw you going from a nobody to a national hero in the space of a few short years. “So. Have you set a date yet?”

“No, not yet,” replied Vinyl, calming down enough to answer. “We wanted to make sure you were cool with the whole thing first before getting down to the nitty-gritty. We've had some vague talks, made some vague plans, but it's all-”

“-vague, got it,” said Twilight. “I'm definitely cool with it now, though.” Bringing ponies together: it was the exact mission statement of the Princess of Friendship after all, and she couldn't go through life shirking the important burden she'd been tasked to shoulder.

“Awesome! I'd better go find Octavia and tell her the good news,” Vinyl said excitedly, almost leaping for joy on the seat. “I'll let you know all the details just as soon as I find them out for myself.” She got up to leave. “Thank you.”

“Take care,” said Twilight, smiling warmly. “And good luck.”

“You, too, Princess.”

Pool - Nightmare Moon/Twilight Sparkle - Slice of Life

Salt Block Saloon was one of those places that you went to after you'd been thrown out of or barred from everywhere else in town; it was dank, it was dingy, and the drinks were better for burning a hole in your stomach lining than quenching your thirst. The Wild West décor wasn't my thing either. Of course, you could be forgiven for being a mite jumpy with a blunderbuss – loaded or not – in grabbing distance of every nutcase this side of Ghastly Gorge.

The batwing doors flapped open gingerly – or at least, the person entering the bar was doing so very gingerly – and we recoiled instinctively from the shards of sunlight that probed deeply into our beloved darkness like the questing fingers of some glowing, ethereal hand; it wasn't so much the light itself that we were reacting to, though that was certainly irritant enough to those of who were habitual creatures of the night, but the depressing revelation we were being made to face: it was early afternoon, it was a beautiful day out, and we were doing our level best to blot out that reality and replace it with a drunken haze.

A girl approached and took the empty stool next to me; she was young, fresh-faced, and my eyebrow raised in interest as my gaze swept the entirety of her petite frame in record time. No, that sort of interest. Well, not entirely, though that mauve skirt and teal blouse accentuated a rather slim, attractive figure. I'm suddenly made acutely aware that, with my raven hair and monastral dress, I probably look like I'm on my way to the grimmest, Gothest rave ever.

She didn't look the sort to frequent this type of establishment; she sat rather formally, square-shouldered and straight-backed, and her mulberry eyes, so naturally inquisitive-looking, were studiously avoiding making contact with anyone or anything. Not even the barkeep attempting to take her order. Can't blame her, considering the clientèle this place catered to.

“Cider, please,” she said in a cultured accent that sounded familiar to me, but one that I hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in a long time. My drink-fuelled mind tried to join the dots, but … well, it was exactly like trying to join the dots after you'd spent most of the day pouring colourless, volatile liquids into your body in an attempt to blot out every mistake you'd made.

“I'll get that,” I said to the barkeep, throwing a couple of gold coins onto the counter, while flashing the girl an insouciant grin who merely frowned at me in response. “You're not from around here, are you, new girl?” What can I say? Even when you're half-sozzled, some people just inspire you to bring out your A-Game.

“No,” she replied, taking a small sip of her cider and, I guessed from the upward quirk of her lips and slight incline of her head, finding it acceptable. This far from Apple Country, no one orders cider; I'm surprised they even have it in stock here, and to be honest, I find it surprising anyone wants to order it. Horrible, gloopy, sugary stuff. Give me a sharp, charcoal-filtered creamy vodka any day of the week.

Most days of the week.

Okay, every day of the week. Give me a break. I'm bored and lonely.

“So.” That's as far as I get before my brain decides to go AWOL, possibly in the direction of the clacking balls on the pool table behind us; I never have a problem starting a conversation normally, but this girl with indigo hair, streaked through with a dash of pink and purple, is making it difficult for me to find the words. Is it the fact that she looks so innocent, but is trying not to show it? Like a young girl forced into the role of a woman? I wonder if she's even old enough to be in here. It's not the kind of place that pays much heed to crazy notions like age-appropriateness, nor have I ever heard of anyone being asked for identification in all the long years I've been coming here.

How many years is it now? Feels like a frickin' thousand of them at this stage. Exile's no fun, let me tell you.

Extreme action is required or I run the risk of losing her company, so I bring out the big guns. “My name's Nightmare Moon. What's yours?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” she said. She hesitates for a moment before extending a lean, purple hand in my direction. “Nice to meet you, Miss Moon.”

I stifle a slobbering, drunken laugh while taking her hand in my own. “Miss Moon is my mother. Most people 'round these parts call me Moony. They find Nightmare Moon to be a bit of a mouthful, especially after a few mouthfuls, if you know what I mean?” Nightmare Moon is a lot to get your tongue around in one go, as almost everyone in this bar can attest to.

“I can imagine,” Twilight Sparkle said, quickly taking in the diverse array of patrons drowning their sorrows at the bar, the ghost of a smile flashing across her delicate, youthful face. “Nice to meet you … Moony.”

“What brings you out this way? All the way from … Canterlot?”

“Work.” She takes another sip of her drink.

I'm starting to think that this girl isn't in the mood to be hit on by some random, older stranger in a bar. But then, why would she be in here in the first place? No one loves cider that much. “Work, huh? What do you do for a living?” I'm foraging for any opening now.

Her upper lip twitches slightly and her shoulders sag ever so slightly.

“Forget I asked,” I said, deciding to cut my losses. She isn't that cute, anyway, though I'm a trifle irked at the money I've just wasted.

“I'm here to see you,” said Twilight Sparkle, running a hand through her hair and turning her head in my direction for perhaps the first time in the conversation. “I'm filling in for Luna at Canterlot High School while she's on sabbatical, and Celestia thought it might be time for you to return in order to ease some of the burden we're under.”

“What happened to Luna?” I asked, my face contorting into a frown. I'd barely thought about my two sisters since they'd kicked me out of CHS when they'd finally got sick of my loutish behaviour. I'd been scraping a living as a part-time tutor out here in the boondocks, not expecting to ever hear from them again. And now, Celestia herself had sent this perky young thing to rescue me? I was almost flattered. Did she think I would be enticed more by the offer coming from Twilight Sparkle in person rather than a simple 'phone call? Oh, sweet Celestia, you know me too well.

“She, uh.” It was clear that Twilight Sparkle was fishing around for her best diplomatic tone. “The stress has been getting to her a lot lately, and she had a bit of a nervous breakdown after, um, an incident involving an exchange student. She's out of the hospital, though, and recovering well at home, but it'll still be months before she can be declared fit enough to return to work.”

“Huh.” I wasn't sure what I was feeling. It was no secret that I'd always been jealous of my more popular sisters, and truth be told I'd thought plenty of times how wonderful it would be if they were out of the way and I could run the school the way I wanted to. Now that something was up with Luna, I was possibly feeling a little bit … sad? Guilty? Like I was somehow responsible, stupid as that idea was? That, if I'd been there sharing the hardship, my dear little sister wouldn't have cracked?

“Are you all right?”

It surprised me how warm and wet her eyes had become at that moment. Twilight Sparkle wasn't just being polite, she actually did care about people, even complete strangers. I felt a knot blossom in my stomach, my body's way of letting me know when I'd been a jerk; my clumsy pick-up attempts just felt crass in the face of all this now, and as surely as I know anything I knew that the girl was way out of my league.

Still.

If I accepted my sweet sister's offer, I'd be working alongside Miss Sparkle every day and I'd get the chance to lower her to my level. “I'm fine,” I finally said, slamming my glass down on the moist bar top. “So. When do we leave?”

“Are you sure you don't want to take a couple of days to think about it? I mean, it's probably a lot to take in,” said Twilight Sparkle.

My eyes quickly roved over Twilight Sparkle's lithe form once more. “Oh, I've definitely made up my mind.”

Adorkable - Fluttershy/Discord - Slice of Life

If Discord had thought that time and proximity would eventually soften Angel Bunny's opinion of him, he was sorely mistaken; the little rabbit continually poked his goat leg, kicking out with his tiny feet, even though all the draconequus was trying to do was catch forty winks on a hammock suspended across the length of Fluttershy's living room. Maybe it was the chocolate milk river that it was floating above that gave the tetchy critter cause for irritation?

Finally growing tired of Angel's constant prodding, Discord snapped his fingers and the bunny vanished into the ether. He chortled in satisfaction, knowing that, with Fluttershy out, he would be free to keep Angel at bay in this manner until she got back. Finally, a little bit of solitude.

He didn't make it a habit to hang around Fluttershy's cottage while she was out; though it made no difference to him, the animals that loitered around the place could be a little bit squeamish in his presence. Especially when he was bored, which was often. Ever since agreeing with the princesses not to use his chaos powers – at least not for harmful purposes – Discord's life had been a little bit staid of late. Who would have thought that the God of Chaos would be tamed by a little yellow pony who quaked in fear at her own shadow, huh?

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he heard the front door burst open loudly enough that he feared it was being torn from its hinges by some ferocious creature. There's no way that could be Fluttershy; she isn't the type to abuse the furniture, no matter how annoyed she is. To be on the safe side, he silently snapped his fingers and got rid of the river of milk, the hammock, and – as an afterthought – restored Angel Bunny to his proper place, who looked around confusedly before scampering dazedly in the direction of his owner.

The little rabbit froze, his eyes widening in alarm, and even Discord looked on in interest. “Fluttershy, did you do something with your hair?” he asked deadpan, amused by the rabbit's sudden about-face.

The yellow pegasus' normally well-kempt rosy mane was a wild, tangled mess of random peaks and troughs, her azure eyes had taken on a reddish tint, and her lateral incisors had become longer and more pointed. Even her wings had become more leathery and spiky.

She might have looked intimidating, where it not for the fact that she was also crying; something which was of more immediate concern to Discord, though he was curious about the return of the bat curse. “What happened to you?” He tried to approach her, but she backed off. Closer up, he could see that her tiny body was covered in scratches. “Fluttershy …?”

“I'm a monster,” Fluttershy said between sobs.

“You are not,” replied Discord sternly. The draconequus took a moment to get his thoughts in order. A resurgence of the bat influence that Princess Know-Nothin'-Know-It-All thought she'd cured. “Okay, that explains the transformation, but how did you get the scratches?”

“I was coming back from the Everfree Forest after feeding the manticore cubs when I, er, changed. A couple of ponies saw me emerging from the woods, and they thought that I was some kind of-” she made a choking noise in the back of her throat “-some kind of beast.”

Discord felt the heart that he wasn't sure he possessed hammering in his chest. The very thought of somepony attacking his dear, sweet Fluttershy made feelings he couldn't express in words thrill through him. At once, he wanted to find those responsible for her injuries and teach them the meaning of pain, and comfort the poor pegasus-bat until she felt better and stopped crying. Finally, the latter instinct won out and he pulled her into a tight hug before she had the chance to escape his clutches once more. “You aren't a monster.”

“I am,” replied Fluttershy, not giving herself up to the draconequus' embrace. In fact, she looked as though she wanted to be on the other side of Equestria right now. “I don't want to hurt anypony, but … I don't know what'll happen if we can't find a way to reverse this transformation.”

“You could never hurt anypony, it isn't in your nature,” said Discord, his gaze drawing level with hers. “The only thing that's even remotely monstrous about you is how much you care, whether the animal in question deserves it or not.”

“Animals like big, dumb draconequuses, you mean?” she asked, dryly noting the subtext of his words. Fluttershy buried her head in his shoulder until it was wet with tears.

“Big? Dumb?” Discord said with mock-hurt. “Don't you mean devilishly handsome, intelligent and sexy?”

Fluttershy turned her head slightly and giggled despite herself.

“Oh?” He prodded her chest gently with a talon of his eagle claw. “You think I'm sexy?”

Hiding her eyes behind her mane, Fluttershy blushed and nodded. “Maybe a little.”

Discord found himself rather taken aback by that and couldn't think of a response; if Fluttershy had ever found anypony attractive, she never said anything about it due to her timid nature. Perhaps this bat curse isn't such a bad thing after all? “In that case, there's something I should tell you.”

“What's that?” Fluttershy asked, wiping the last of her tears away with a hoof.

The faintest tinge of red coloured the draconequus' cheeks. “I think you're adorkable.”

“Adorka-what?”

“Adorkable. You know, hot in a nerdy sort of way?”

Fluttershy raised her eyebrows in bewilderment, unsure if she was being made fun of or not. “Thanks. I think.”

“Hey, I'm not insulting you,” Discord said, holding his hands up in apology. “Ever since we became friends, you've become something incredibly important and special to me. Over time, I began to feel something that was a lot more than just friendship for you. Your kindness, compassion and empathy have been really important to somepony like me who has no knowledge of such things.” He looked down at his goat hoof and lizard leg, and a small sigh escaped his throat. “The truth is, I love you, Fluttershy, and I've been wanting to tell you for a long time, but not knowing how you felt about me made it really difficult to say anything.”

A long moment of silence passed, and Discord assumed that he had his answer; he looked back up, however, to find that Fluttershy's face was mere inches away from his own, and from the way her lips were quirked, it was pretty obvious that she was expecting him to make his move. Acting on instinct, Discord closed the short gap between them and placed his own lips against hers.

The taste of apples, mingled with her natural lavender scent, was a curious yet intoxicating mix to the draconequus. The kiss was soft, innocent, chaste, but with the slightest of hints of something more lingering under the surface. Just like Fluttershy herself, really. It was everything Discord had been hoping for.

All too soon, they pulled away, and Fluttershy looked nervously downward. “You don't mind that I'm stuck this way?”

“Uh-uh,” Discord replied sincerely. “It doesn't matter about the inside because it's what's in here-” his clawed hand rested just over her heart while his lion arm encircled her waist and pulled her in close “-that counts.”

“Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek softly.

“Wanna go for a swim in my chocolate milk river?” Discord asked mischievously.

Hat - Twilight/Celestia - Slice of Life

Marble. Alabaster. Fine china. A finely crafted piece of pottery.

These terms speak of an exquisite beauty; something rare and delicate, precious and priceless.

They are terms which bother me.

She speaks; it's quiet, dignified, and it's all the more effective for its lack of emotive content. There are no wasted words, no inflammatory speech, just simple, precise recitation of the facts and her proposed solution. Her capacity for remembrance astounds me, and I wonder if it's a gift of the alicorn race or something she's had to train herself to do. No one knows exactly how old she is, how far back that brilliant memory goes, and I wonder what it would be like to see everything from childhood to the present day with crystal clarity.

I'm pretty sure it would drive me bonkers.

On either side of her are two lanterns and their omnipresent glow is the only thing that seems to have any sort of life of its own; she has her own inner serenity – whether it's to do with age, her station in life, or again, something she's been schooled in, I have no clue – and like her voice, there is no waste. If she doesn't have to move, she won't.

That's why the comparison to inanimate esoterica annoys me so: because of the evident truth in it. No matter what, she remains resolutely unflappable; her countenance remains the same whatever situation she is faced with, and there are times when I feel that she ought to be one of those mysterious, fantastical statues that line the cloisters in the castle courtyard.

I wonder if I've ever seen her frown when she's been perplexed by something? Have I ever seen her flush in embarrassment? Smile because something tickled her funny bone? My own memories are not infallible, and they span so short at a time, shorter still in the presence her, but I can't recall a single occasion when I've seen her expression shift from what I consider to be a neutral, default, state.

“You're a princess, yes,” I find myself wanting to shout at her, “but you're also a pony, a mare. Is there nothing that can breach that argent mask you wear?”

Does she do it deliberately, to keep us at a distance? Is she so afraid to let somepony in? To let me in? Is it just a hat she wears because it's better to be seen as an ethereal, unapproachable entity rather than as a flesh-and-blood pony?

Her speech comes to and end, and there may be a ripple of hoof-stomping, but I'm so entranced by the slow, deliberate turn and slow, deliberate pace at which she moves off back in the direction of the castle that I'm oblivious to everything else. Even her wavy, glittering tail and mane are kept at bay.

I shouldn't even be here, really, but she's been so busy with her arcane studies that I take any opportunity to hear her speak that I can get.

Before she's out of sight, the last thing I see is the harsh set of her jaw and I wonder what it would take to make it tic.

“My pretty marble statue,” I find myself saying out loud before I'm ushered into the foyer by the royal guards, “how am I to make you a pony again?”

*

Most ponies when deep in thought would pace incessantly, but guess what she does? Go on, guess! That's right, she stands rigidly in place, and I can't help thinking that, were I to place my head against her chest, her heartbeat and pulse would adopt the same glacial pace.

I really want to place my head against her chest. When I was a filly, I did so often; less so as I got older, and I miss the warmth, the comfort, of her bosom. How would she react were I to do so now, I wonder? Would she be as rigid as the draconequus I can just about spy through the half-open window, locked in some ridiculous pose that makes me wonder what emotion the sculptor was trying to convey?

She doesn't notice me getting closer. Or she does, but is choosing not to acknowledge it. What goes on in that mind of hers? Do her neurons fire so quickly that her body must divert resources from elsewhere in order to function correctly? It's a silly thought, I know.

“What are you doing, Twilight Sparkle?”

I stop suddenly, feeling a trifle foolish. The voice is flat; the question is conveyed without any emotion, and she may as well have been asking me about the weather.

Fire crackles in the background, and the scent of singed air wafts toward my nostrils; a message has been delivered from somewhere in Equestria, something requiring the princess' attention, but she makes no move to seize the bound scroll that has appeared in the middle of the room. I remain silent, letting her mind conjure its own reasons for my approach.

An eyelash has detached itself and has landed on the delicate curve of her cheek; some mad impulse seizes me, and I place my hoof upon it. She starts, and the solemn façade is gone for an instant.

She takes a deep breath, and I'm intrigued that my touch has caused her to have this reaction; part of me thinks that I've gotten what I wanted and I should bail out before her passive mood turns vicious, but another part of me … wants to continue, to see where this leads, to see how far I can push her. The thin, bony tip of my hoof traces the length of her cheekbone, the eyelash still in my possession. Her face flushes, turning a fetching cherry red, and it's so startling a shade against her snow white coat.

I'm just tormenting her now, though I try to maintain the pretence that I'm nothing more than a curious, playful filly; her eyes are a little wide, her mouth hangs open in surprise, while my hoof completes it journey from her jaw to her chin. I cup it lightly, the way a parent would with a foal.

Or the way a lover would with their partner.

She's starting to come to life, shaking off the marble-like trance she's been locked in for who knows how long. I forget about the eyelash and I'm about to discard it to the floor when her hoof covers mine. “No,” she says softly.

“Huh?”

“You have to make a wish,” she explains to me in a gentle murmur. “When two ponies have an eyelash caught between their hooves in this way, they have to make a wish. Whoever has the eyelash when they part will have their wish granted.” She looks into my mulberry eyes and smiles; a warm, genuine smile that touches me all the way to my soul.

“Make a wish, Princess,” I say.

Our hooves are pressed together for a matter of seconds, though it feels like hours. I was expecting hers to be cold, hard, but they're not.

I don't know what I wish for, it wasn't my focus; my pretty statue has come to life, and I'm revelling in the colour tinting her lovely, pale form. It's a victory, but winning this battle isn't my concern right now.

Time ticks by slowly; the princess is aware of this on a level that I cannot even begin to fathom, being so intimately acquainted with the celestial orb which keeps our beautiful land alive. She is the sun and I am a rock given life by her light.

Neither of us makes a move to reveal who possesses the eyelash. I slowly bring my other hoof to the opposite side of her face and stroke her cheek; her breath comes in ragged little pants as I explore that graceful, ivory face housing the radiant lilac eyes.

Our hooves separate.

I have the lash.

“What was your wish, Twilight?” she asks.

Both my forelegs encircle her neck and I draw myself up as high as I can; though I'm straining quite a bit, my muzzle is just about level with hers now and my lips press against those of the princess.

“This,” I reply, pulling away.

“Twilight ...”

I shush her with another kiss; her supple lips on my own sends waves of feelings crashing through me that I find impossible to articulate, but the the most important thing is that my dear, sweet Celestia is no longer marble, no longer alabaster, no longer fine china, or a finely crafted piece of pottery.

She is no longer ethereal, unapproachable, untouchable.

She is a pony, a mare, with needs. Needs that mirror my own.

We part; she fights to regain the composure that I have robbed her of, but it's of no use. Her breathing is heavy, her ghostly mane has lost its shimmer, and she seems so much older in that moment, as if some kind of shield has been lowered and I'm seeing the real her for the first time. Maybe I am.

It makes no difference. Serenity or not, she is still my sun, still my princess, and still beautiful.

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