Chapter ELEVEN

Lyra, Colgate, Bon-Bon, and Berry Punch staked out the only table in the mess hall that didn’t need a wad of napkins shoved under one leg to keep it from wobbling. It was late. Well past meal time, and well past the time allotted to hang around the mess hall for any recreational use. But the brass had been much too busy with damage control after the last fiasco of a mission, as well as reprimanding Sparkle for her little one-on-one with Applejack, to bother policing a few trouble makers looking to drown their worries with a nightcap.

Booze was provided by Berry. She and a few others had managed to get their hooves on a plant native to the Everfree Forest that bore a strong resemblance to sugarcane and secreted a sweet dirty brown substance that could be mistaken for molasses at a glance; and had been “brewing” their own rum, likely in the latrines after hours, as they were certainly dark enough and it was one of the few places that for sure wouldn’t be disturbed. Nopony had used a latrine since the start of their tour: most preferred to go about their business in the privacy of a bush. Somehow it seemed the more dignified choice. Only Berry knew where the yeast had come from and nopony was all that eager to ask. Not that it mattered. It was pretty much understood that your life was potentially in danger the moment you made up your mind to ingest anything growing in the Everfree Forest.  

Lyra took a swig from Berry’s flask, and grimaced. The proof was high for something that was quite possibly being made in an outhouse. It tasted like the end of days. She passed the foul smelling thing to Bon-Bon, who did the same, though not nearly as gracefully. She choked down the liquid flame. She rasped. Coughed. Her eyes watered, her stomach lurched, and she nearly vomited on the spot, earning a chorus of hearty laughter from the others.

“Probably should’ve pinched some wine from the major’s office,” said Berry as she removed a second flask from a pocket on her vest.

“There’s wine in the major’s office?” asked Colgate. She took the second flask from Berry, braced herself, then took a deep drink. A lonely bead of brown liquid rolled down her chin, and berry watched it as if it were the last drop of anything to drink in the entire world.

“Cool it Colgate,” Berry snatched the flask from her and shook it to gage what was left. “And yeah I’m pretty sure there’s wine in the major’s office. No pony tells her what to do. I’d have wine in my office if there was no pony to tell me what to do.”

“You’d have wine in your office if the sky split open and Celestia herself told you not to.” The others laughed. For the first time in weeks the four of them felt perfectly at ease. They laughed and they jeered at each other. They talked. They talked about how terrifying it was fighting after nightfall, and they talked about the Ursa, arguing over whether it had been a Major or Minor. They talked about their individual run-ins with rebels. They tallied kills. Lyra insisted she had claimed the most rebel lives, counting her kills at eighteen – nineteen if she counted a stallion who she’d shot at, missed, but the shot startled the dumb bastard enough to drop a primed grenade at his hooves. Berry insisted that it didn't count but Lyra wasn’t convinced.

To counter Lyra’s high number of kills, Berry bragged about the rebel she captured. The one with the burgundy coat, and the mane that was a weaving of many manes. She told of how the little unicorn bayed as she cut off her horn. Then she opened up her vest and there it was, hanging around her neck from the same chain as her dog tags. It was the same burgundy as the rebel’s coat and had less of a spiral pattern to it than most unicorn horns.

Bon-Bon told them all about Applejack and Pinkie Pie. She spared no detail; the memory still new, vivid. She told them about the stink of AJ's blood on her hooves and how useless Pinkie Pie had been, speaking with that special kind of intimacy achieved only by the mildly drunk. Her story was somber, almost sobering, and they listened intensely like children captivated by fantasy. For a while Bon-Bon’s voice was the only one in the room, and when she finished the mood had shifted. It was markedly different now. Each of them was touched by a sort of warm epiphany; as if suddenly able to reach something that was for so long just outside of their grasp. Smiles encircled the table. They were the smiles of ponies perfectly content with the notion that they were still alive whereas others were not. It occurred to all of them that life wasn’t something to be enjoyed by everypony, only the lucky few, and they rejoiced, and drank more, and flirted with one another; reviling in their suddenly elevated status. They were now members of a privileged elite – the aristocracy of still breathing.

Upon finishing the pair of flasks, Berry Punch, as if by slight of hoof produced a third, prompting a ruckus chorus of laughter from the others. They teased her. Reaching for her pockets, goading her to do it again. Calling her a drunk, wino, alcoholic – to which she only smiled big and shrugged.

“Alright, alright already. I get it,” said Berry, standing up on her hind-legs and holding the flask above her head as it were a trophy. The ruckus laughter dulled to scarcely a chuckle. They settled down. “Well this here is the last of it. How’s about a toast. Bon-Bon?”

Every pair of eyes in the room looked to Bon-Bon for her response. “Well…” she said. She took the flask form Berry and cradled it in her hooves as if were something precious and fragile, like a newborn filly. She looked around the room and wondered if maybe this was their last night together. Her gaze found Lyra’s and she felt as though she might burst. She wanted to tell her everything. But where were the words, she wondered. She couldn’t seem to find them. “I…I don’t know what to say.” She sniffed and held back a threaten tear.

Lyra’s strong foreleg found its way around Bon-Bon’s neck. She pulled the earth pony closer, playfully, and snatched the flask from her practically trembling hooves. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on us now soldier!” she said with a laugh, doing her best impersonation of their old drill sergeant Pony Joe. Bon-Bon smiled at the private joke. They were close now, close enough to smell the liquor on each other’s breath. Bon-Bon hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

Lyra held up the flask. “Here’s a toast for ya,” she said. The others could tell she was trying hard not to slur her words. “To not getting shot in the throat!”

“To not getting shot in the throat.” they echoed, shaking their heads.

“I’ll drink to that!” exclaimed Berry.

“Like you need an excuse,” said Lyra jokingly. They chuckled and drank. One by one they passed the flask around the table, taking long enough swigs to finish it in just four drinks. Berry took the biggest swallow, and by the time it circulated to Bon-Bon there was hardly any left. Enough for the toast though, and that was enough for her. She took her swallow then leaned into Lyra, encircling the unicorn’s waist in her forelegs, drunk enough now to not care who saw her.

They stayed like that for awhile. Not saying anything. Not needing to.

What happened to Bon-Bon next, she would never forgive. Though she had already  accepted that her life likely wouldn’t last much longer – that this horrible thing that was happening in the Everfree Forest would claim her long before her time – in that moment an anger gripped Bon-Bon. A terrible fury that she would carry in her heart for the rest of her days.

The doors to the mess hall creaked open, and who should come through them but Pinkie Pie, bouncing on her hooves jovially, like the whole world was made of sunshine, flowers, and bubblegum. Her mane wasn’t straight anymore. It was the usually frizzy mess and Bon-Bon thought the grin her face looked just as idiotic as the mess on her head.

She bounced right up to Bon-Bon; completely unaware of the deeply personal moment she was intruding upon, and said:

“Oh thank goodness I found you!” Her eyes lit up that way a child’s do when they find a misplaced toy. “I’ve been looking all over for you since I got back to champ. I looked in your tent, and then in Lyra’s tent, cause I figured it was late and – well you know what ponies around camp say about you two – and then I thought it was odd that you two don’t already share a tent – not that I believe the rumors or anything, but come on talk about obvious.” She winked at Bon-Bon, then gave her shoulder a knowing nudge.

“But you don’t share a tent do you? Of course you don’t. I know cause I checked with Lieutenant Octavia, and she told me ‘no they do not, nor is it acceptable for members of Company Everfree to engage in any form of romantic relationship,’ and I was like come on, it’s a bunch of young colts and fillies in the woods for crying out loud – or in your chase a filly and filly – not that I’m judging you. I mean I’ve done my share of fooling around with fillies too. Hahaha fooling with fillies! Try saying that five times fast. Fooling-with-fillies, fooling-with-fillies, fooling-with-fillies…”

Maybe it was just the alcohol but Bon-Bon was furious. The others erupted into a debilitating fit of laughter.

“My Celestia, does it have an off switch,” said Lyra between chuckles and desperate gasps for air.

“Shut up, shut up. I want to see if it’ll keep going,” trumpeted a teary eyed Berry Punch. She swayed in her chair form laughter, and it took every bit of dexterity and physical prowess she could muster to keep form toppling over onto the floor.

“Come on girls, don’t tease. I think she’s kinda cute,” said Colgate.

Bon-Bon leered at Pinkie Pie. She meant to make an intimidating face but drunkenness diffused the attempt, and she only succeeded in looking very silly. “Did you need something Pinkie?” she growled.

“No, but I do,” said Colgate, smiling with the face of stupid drunkard. “It starts with a certain color and it ends with a certain pastry.” The blue unicorn winked as she blew a kiss in Pinkie’s direction. The pink earth pony didn’t seem to notice.

“I need to talk to you Bon-Bon,” began Pinkie Pie. “I never got a chance to thank you. You know, after everything that happened with me and Applejack, and…well…she might not be here if not for you…and…” Pinkie sniffed. She could feel a crying fit coming on and did her best to hold it back, but couldn’t stop a pair of crystalline tears from rolling down her cheeks.

Bon-Bon watched a pink fore-hoof rub tears away from a pink face and immediately her heart softened. Maybe Pinkie’s intrusion wasn’t so unforgivable after all. She placed a friendly fore-hoof on a pink shoulder.

“Hey, it was nothing anypony wouldn’t do for anypony else.” Pinkie sobbed quietly. The others waited quietly, acting surprisingly – no – unusually respectful of the situation.

The pink pony found her composure. She straightened up, her face as dry as desert stone now. “Could I…” she began timidly, stammering a bit as she talked. “…maybe have a word with you. You know, in private.” Maybe it was the alcohol but Bon-Bon didn’t understand. She stared at Pinkie, confused.

“It's just I need to thank you properly…in private…” Pinkie leaned her head, gesturing without subtlety toward the door.

“Uh oh. Look out Lyra, Pinkie here wants to ‘thank Bon-Bon in private,’” said Colgate with a wry smile, to which Lyra responded by shoving her from across the table. Berry laughed as Colgate nearly fell out of her seat.

Reluctantly, Bon-Bon got up from her seat beside Lyra and followed Pinkie Pie outside. Why, she wasn’t entirely sure, but Bon-Bon had elected to indulge the pink pony’s harmless eccentricities. It was probably the alcohol.

The air outside was cold, and as she accompanied Pinkie to wherever this proper apology was waiting for her, it occurred to Bon-Bon that this winter in the Everfree Forest was to be the first natural winter she’d ever experienced in her entire life. The cold that bit at her exposed forelegs was not the doing of pegasus ponies or even Celestia herself. It was the work of forest. It wasn’t any colder than a pegasus made winter but it did seem lonelier. Tremendously so. Suddenly she was overcome with a palpable, almost irrational desire to return to the comfort of Lyra’s forelegs. She hoped whatever Pinkie had planned wouldn’t take too long.

It didn’t.

Pinkie led them around the back of the mess hall near the abandoned latrines, far enough away that their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the others inside.

“Alright Pinks, what’s all this about?”

Pinkie’s eyes darted left and right, the way an amateur thief’s do just before she pinches a fresh fruit form the local market place. Bon-Bon could see that she was weary of being overheard.

“You didn’t tell them what you saw, did you?”

At first Bon-Bon didn’t understand. Pinkie asked again, a shortness in her tone, and then she understood. Of course. This confrontation was going to have to happen sooner or later. “No. Of course not,” Bon-Bon answered confidently.

“You’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she began explaining. “I mean, I told them what happened but not –.” Before she could finish her thought Pinkie slammed her roughly into the wall at her back, pinning her. The movement was swift. Instinctively, Bon-Bon tried to shove Pinkie away, put pink pony was strong. When that didn’t work she started to call out to Lyra for help, but the knife at her throat convinced her that that was perhaps not the best way to go about this.

The blade pressed to her neck was cold – cold like natural winter.

“You told them.” Pinkie’s voice slithered out form between her lips like a snake leaving its den. It was so different from the voice she’d spoken in before. Her eyes were different too: shaper, predatory. Bon-Bon was afraid.

“Why did you tell them? Why?”

“I – I didn’t,” Bon-Bon shuddered. “I told them what I saw, but not about you.”

“What did you say exactly?”

“What?”

“Exactly! What did you say exactly?”

“W-what!?”

“Tell me what you told them!”

Panic made thinking difficult. “I-I-I don’t know!” The blade inched closer, threatening to break skin. “I mean – I mean, I told them I found you. I found the two of you. It was dark and I found the two of you.”

“Is that all you said?”

“That’s all.” The blade slid up under Bon-Bon’s chin, making her squeal like a frightened child. “That’s all! That’s all! Pinkie please!” she pleaded, her voice growing loud with hysteria. Pinkie muffled her cries with her free hoof.

“Shut up or they’ll hear you, and if I see anypony come out that building, I cut your throat and then I cut theirs. Understand?” Bon-Bon nodded, sobbing into Pinkie’s hoof. She was trying hard to hold back the tears forming behind her eyes. “Now tell me one more time, Bon-Bon. Slowly and quietly.”

She took a deep breath and tried to calm down a bit. “I told them that when I found the two of you, Applejack was already hurt and you were standing over her trying to help. And that I didn’t see who stuck AJ, because it was dark,” she managed in a shaky voice.  

A suspicious look crossed Pinkie’s face. Bon-Bon suspected she still didn’t believe. “I swear. Please, Pinkie I’m not lying.”

Bon-Bon could see the gears turning in the pink pony’s head. For a moment she looked as though she might buy it. The moment was short. She threw Bon-Bon belly down onto the ground and mounted her, pushing her face into the dirt while keeping the knife pressed to her neck.

“Applejack is one of my best friends. I love her. If she finds out…if any of them find out…” she let her voice trail off for fear of finishing the thought. “They can’t know what I’m like. Understand me? They can’t ever know. They won’t like me if they know.”

“I swear I didn’t tell anypony. I swear, I swear.” Bon-Bon was in tears now, mumbling through a mouth full of dirt.

“You’re not lying to me?”

“I’m not. Please Pinkie, I’m not.”

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you do?”

“No.”

With surprising ease, Pinkie lifted Bon-Bon back to her hooves. The earth pony was still whimpering.

“Celestia’s sake,” muttered Pinkie, “clean yourself up. And stop crying.” Bon-Bon rubbed her face halfheartedly. Pinkie dusted her off, then dusted herself off before returning the knife to its hiding place in her fatigues.

“Look at me,” said Pinkie, taking Bon-Bon’s face in both her hooves and shaking her. “Hey, look at me. I need you to swear you'll never tell anyone.”

“I do. I swear.”

“Pinkie Pie swear?” she taunted, adding a cruel smile for effect. Bon-Bon stared at her blank faced.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly – come on I know you know it.” Bon-Bon continued staring. She tried to talk but the words were sitting at the bottom of her stomach.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly – say it. Say it or I’ll go in back in that room and kill all of them.”

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” she finally managed. Her heart beat sounded like it was between her ears. Her throat was dry. Now it was Pinkie’s turn to stare. She glared at her with an amused look on her cruel face.

“Bon-Bon where’d you go!” The two of them froze as stiff as boards, their breathe caught in their throats. Bon-Bon remembered what Pinkie had told her only moments ago: what she would do if anypony came looking for her. Oh no. Go back inside Lyra! Pinkie stared at Bon-Bon intensely, and pressed her hard against the wall with her forelegs.

“Bon-Bon, seriously where are you. It’s freezing out here,” she called again, sounding closer this time. Pinkie listened intently. Voice. Footsteps. She’d be here any moment.

“Follow my lead and I’ll let you live,” whispered Pinkie. Confused, Bon-Bon nodded in agreement. It was all she could do at this point.

Just as Lyra was wandering around the back of the building, Pinkie shut her eyes and trusted her lips roughly against Bon-Bon's, trapping her in a deep kiss. Instinctively she tried to resist, tried to push the pink pony away from her, but Pinkie was strong and kept her pinned. Then – much to Bon-Bon’s surprise and disgust – Pinkie opened her mouth to the kiss, slipping her tongue past Bon-Bon’s lips while simultaneously grasping the back of her neck. She struggled harder, but then remembered what Pinkie said she would do to her friends, and forced her muscles to relax, though she absolutely refused to kiss Pinkie back.

And that’s how Lyra found them: leaning against a wall behind the mess hall, locked in a mock embrace she didn’t know was just an act. Pinkie kissed Bon-Bon a bit longer after being discovered, pretending not to notice Lyra, milking the act for all it was worth. Then she broke the kiss with tiny gasp, playing the part of blushing secret lover flawlessly.

Lyra’s face was lit up by the illumination spell she’d been using to aid her in her search for Bon-Bon. In the spell's light, Bon-Bon could see the unicorn's eyes squint into an angry expression.

“Lyra, I…” she tried desperately. She wanted to tell her everything but again couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Well don’t stop on my account,” said Lyra, trying to laugh it off; acting as though it didn’t bother her in the slightest to find the only pony she’d ever really cared about locking lips with some pink faced moron. “Its whatever,” she mumbled under her breathe as she turned to leave. “You do whatever you want.” Her illumination spell dimmed into nothingness. Then she trotted off into the darkness.

Bon-Bon watched her leave, feeling as though she were trapped in a thick fog. What the hay just happened, she thought to herself.

A pink fore-hoof raked across her face violently, snapping her out of her dream like state.

“Hey, don’t forget what we talked about,” said Pinkie. Bon-Bon said nothing in return. She put a hoof to her stinging cheek and said nothing. “I didn’t kill you tonight because of what you did for Applejack. I’m grateful to you for that.” Then she let something that was almost sincerity find its way into her tone as she said: “And I’m sorry about…that. About what just happened. But if you ever tell Lyra about what really happened between us tonight, I will kill you. Then I’ll kill her too. We understand each other?”

Bon-Bon still said nothing. Pinkie slapped her again, harder this time.

“I asked you a question.” Bon-Bon nodded. Pinkie regarded her with careful eyes, searching the earth pony's face for any traces of rebellion. She didn’t find any.

“Okey dokey lokey,” she said with an easy smile. It was terrifying. It was the most terrifying thing Pinkie had said all night. Not the words themselves but the way she said them. It was like flipping switch. Pinkamena Diane Pie flipped a switch somewhere in the back of her damaged psyche and just like that her goofy disposition returned. Her sharp predatory eyes dulled into the eyes of a harmless fool. The glee returned to her voice. Bon-Bon wondered if she was even conscious of the change. As she watched the pink earth pony bounce away into the darkness, something inside of her changed too. Her crippling fear waned a bit. It didn’t disappear entirely but it was dulled, drowned out somewhat by a new emotion. She was angry. As angry as she had been when Pinkie had first come into the room. Pinkie had threatened her, humiliated her – but her most unforgivable sin was that she had denied Bon-Bon her moment of intimacy with Lyra. This wasn’t over. With no witness but Luna’s moon, she swore a silent vendetta against Pinkamena Diane Pie: against the war, Celestia, and the entire Everfree Forest. This was not over.

She thought about going back into the mess hall to see if Berry and Colgate were still waiting for her, but Bon-Bon realized she couldn’t care less if they sat in there all night waiting for her and Lyra to come back. Instead she trotted off in to her tent, looking forward to curling up in her sleeping bag as she plotted her revenge on the entire world.

As she trotted off into the cold night of her first natural winter, it occurred to Bon-Bon that she could really use a smoke right now. It was a filthy habit sure, but so what. She was in a warzone where death threatened her from all around. Whether it came from foe, friend, or the forest herself, Bon-Bon knew her days had just about run out. What good would clean living do her now? Filthy habit maybe but worth it. Besides, life was already too long and too miserable anyhow.