Barfly

by ashi

Chapters

• 1. Up Palomino Creek Without a Paddle
• Interlude: A Little Bit Lulu
• 2. Field Trips Shouldn't Involve Tripping Over Fields

1. Up Palomino Creek Without a Paddle

 Salt Block Saloon.

        It was the kind of place that you only ended up at after you'd been thrown out of everywhere else in town; or were already barred from everywhere else in town due to the persistent – not untrue, mind you – allegations of failing to pay your bar bills on time, as well as the monumental destruction of property that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

        But mostly the former.

        They take unpaid tabs very seriously out here in Palomino Creek.

        Palomino Creek wasn't quite the flank-end of nowhere, but it was close enough as to make no difference; it was hot and dry and dusty, and its chief export was its own residents looking for a better, less arid, life somewhere else. The last census put the population at less than a thousand.

        The bar itself was a dank affair, it was dingy, and the sort of clientèle it attracted were not the worst of the worst; they were the tattered, blood-soaked remnants of the worst of the worst who had unilaterally declared a truce with each other after their epic three-day brawl to discover who deserved the title of Absolute Worst of Worst had thus far far only resulted in the type of carnage not often seen since … well, since your last vodka-fuelled bender, anyway.

        This Wild West décor isn't my thing either, Chrysalis thought with an irritable scowl that creased her saturnine yet strangely elegant features. Still the drinks do get you drunk with a minimum of fuss … and expense, though I'm probably going to pay for it in stomach lining. One day, I'm gonna wake up to discover that I have a hole burned clean through me because of this stuff. They'll charge me extra to get the gore out of the sheets, I just know it.

        Chrysalis didn't like to think of herself as an easily-startled sort of person; if you wanted to live out this far from anything that could remotely be called civilisation, you either developed an iron constitution or you found yourself as nothing more than a bug-sized smear across the dusty landscape. That said, anyone could be easily forgiven for being a mite jumpy when a blunderbuss – loaded or not, she didn't care to find out – sat just above the bar, in easy grabbing distance of every nutjob this side of the Ghastly Gorge.

        The bar staff here are either suicidal, insane, or both, she decided with an incredulous shake of her head, her long turquoise hair falling over her jade-tinted eyes as she did so. Chrysalis was just about to go back to her bad-for-the-long-term-health-of-her-guts drink when she heard the bar's batwing doors – literally, the architect who had designed this dump had fashioned the saloon doors into the shape of bat's wings in some weird attempt at a stylistic flourish – open gingerly. Or at least, the person opening the doors in order to be admitted inside was doing so very gingerly.

        Spiky shards of brilliant sunlight filtered their arrogant way in also and there were reflexive groans from many of the patrons that temporarily overrode the tinny music blaring out of an aged speaker, to say nothing of the grunts emanating from those engaged in any one of numerous arm-wrestling matches currently taking place. Chrysalis, for her part, bared her teeth in distaste; the sun always reminded her of her sister for some reason, and if there was one person that she did not need to be reminded of right now …

        If nothing else, it did also serve as a sobering reminder of the facts to many: it's early afternoon, it's a beautiful day outside, and we're all in here doing our level best to blot out reality for a few hours and replace it with that delicious drunken haze. To the habitual creatures of the night, this affront to their beloved darkness was the equivalent to a direct slap in the face from a glove and many pairs, and solos, of curious eyes turned to greet the newcomer who had dared to barge in on the sanctity of their termite-ridden lair.

        The newcomer, a young girl, hiccuped loudly.

        Soon enough, after a good chuckle, everyone went back to their drinks, their fights, or their long, involved discussions about the literary merits of the latest entry in the phenomenally-successful Daring Do young adult novel series. Consensus, as far as Chrysalis could determine from the saliva-soaked slurry that flowed her way, seemed to be that it was a middlin' effort at best and that A.K Yearling was pretty much just 'phoning it in at this point. Tartarus knew, they were probably all ghost-written by some poor rotating squad of fresh-faced interns who'd much rather be working on their own books, anyway.

        Speaking of fresh-faced … out of the corner of her eye, Chrysalis noted the girl take a seat on the empty stool next to her, resettling her skirt as she did so to keep as much of her toned legs covered as possible. This might just be my lucky day. She looked, to her, entirely too young to be visiting this sort of establishment; in fact, she looked as though she should be shouldering a cutesy little backpack with a cutesy little unicorn plushie dangling from it as she skipped merrily to school. The thick-rimmed glasses dominating much of the upper part of her face didn't help with the image. Still, that didn't stop Chrysalis' interested gaze from sweeping the entirety of the girl's petite frame in record time.

        Her mauve skirt and teal blouse only served to accentuate a rather nice figure with curves in all the right places, making Chrysalis acutely aware of the fact that with her own charcoal-coloured dress and black form-fitting leggings – both items adorned with strategically-cut holes that showed off some of her smooth, sable skin – she probably looked as though she were on her way to the grimmest, Gothest rave ever held.

        The girl's out-of-placeness was brought home by the fact that she was sitting too formally, too square-shouldered, as if she didn't want to let her guard down. Chrysalis noticed that her wide mulberry eyes seemed to have an inquisitive bent to them, but she was studiously avoiding making eye-contact with anyone or anything at the moment. Not even with the waiter who was attempting to take her order.

        Can't blame her, really. Pretty young thing in a place like this'll end up getting drowned under a river of drool if she's not careful. Still, that's what you get for running around dolled-up like you're the star of your own niche website.

        “I'll have a mug of cider, please,” she said in a rich, cultured accent that sounded terribly familiar to Chrysalis. Instantly, it set her teeth on edge.

        It was not a manner of speaking that she'd had the pleasure of hearing in a long time, but it was not one that she was likely to forget either; her drink-fuelled mind struggled to join the dots, but … it was exactly like trying to do a join-the-dots puzzle after you'd spent most of the day pouring colourless, odourless, volatile liquids into your body in a futile quest to blot out every single mistake that you'd made in your miserable life. “I'll get that,” Chrysalis eventually said to the barkeep, tossing a couple of bits on to the sodden counter. One of the coins made a desperate bid for freedom, only to be slammed into the wood by the heel of a large, sweaty hand.

        “You don't have to do that,” the girl said, jerking back slightly at the noise.

        “This far from Apple Country, I wouldn't want anyone paying for the cider,” replied Chrysalis as the coins were dunked into the cash register and her change returned, flashing the girl an insouciant grin. “So. Are you new around here or what?” What can I say, some people just inspire me to bring out my A-Game. Hey, at least it wasn't, “Where have you been all my life, good-lookin'?” I do have some standards, you know. Yeah, I don't believe me either.

        “Yes, I am,” she replied, taking a small sip of her cider, her eyes narrowing just a smidgen when it hit her tongue.

        “Terrible, isn't it?” Chrysalis still hadn't quite recovered from the shock of the revelation that they even had it in stock here; no one ordered it much, so it tended to just sit in its cask for months – or even years – on end until the staff finally just tossed it all down the drain for the local rats to drink. That said, it was slightly more surprising discovering someone who even wanted to order it in the first place. To her way of thinking, the stuff was a horrible, gloopy morass that tasted exactly like someone sneezing in an apple juice. And you don't want to know how I know what THAT tastes like. Give me a sharp, charcoal-filtered, creamy vodka any day of the week. Or whatever this is that I'm drinking right now. That's good, too.

        “It won't be giving Applejack's brand a run for its money, that's for sure,” said the girl with a slight trace of a grin, apparently feeling charitable as she took another pull from her mug. Chrysalis guessed from the quirk of her upper lip and the slight incline of her head, she actually found the drink acceptable. “But it's actually not too bad. It might taste a bit better if they stored it in a manucube rather than a barrel, though.”

        Huh. Girl actually knows her stuff. Takes all sorts, I suppose, even crazy cider-drinkers. “So.” That was as far as Chrysalis was able to get with the small-talk before her brain decided to take its leave for the day; possibly in the direction of the pool table just behind them, where the clacking of balls was making it impossible for her to think clearly. Why the Tartarus would THAT be so distracting all of a sudden? She wasn't the type to have trouble starting a conversation, especially with someone that interested her, but … this girl, with her innocent demeanour, her pretty violet hair and tender mulberry eyes was giving her pause. Am I finally developing a conscience after all this time?

        Is it just because she seems so sweet and demure that I feel like I can't, shouldn't, talk to her? Like, she's better than me? In all the long years that she'd been stuck here in the middle of nowhere, with only the Badlands as the next most desolate, deserted area, Chrysalis had never once felt like this. And she didn't much like it. How long has it been now since you exiled me out here, sis'? Feels like a thousand years at this stage. And you've never once bothered to check up on me.

        Bringing out the big guns in order to get back on top of the situation, she decided that some introductions were in order, “Name's Chrysalis. And you are?”

        “Twilight Sparkle,” the girl said, her purple hand wavering in the air uncertainly for a moment before she offered it to Chrysalis. “Thank you for buying me the drink. I, um, appreciate it. It's, uh, nice to meet you, Miss Chrysalis.”

        “Miss Chrysalis?” Chrysalis felt a smirk break out across her face, and she fought to stifle a stupid, slobbering laugh that would've definitely sent the girl running a mile from drunkenly escaping her as she took Twilight's hand in her own. “I'm just plain, ol' Chrysalis. Well, my friends call me Chryssy, or even just Chrys. Chrysalis gets to be a bit of a mouthful, especially after a few mouthfuls, if you know what I mean?”

        “I can imagine,” Twilight replied, her eyes quickly taking in the colourful array of patrons dotted around the place; she lingered on one couple in particular who seemed to be engaged in a vicious war of words, and Chrysalis got the impression that the girl was wondering whether she should intervene or not before things got out of hand. Bringing her attention back to the woman beside her, the ghost of a smile danced briefly across her delicate face. “Nice to meet you, um, Chryssy?”

        “You, too. Twily.” Chrysalis downed her vodka in one gulp and then raised her glass to the waiter. While he was refilling it, she asked, “What brings you out here all the way from Canterlot?”

        “That obvious, huh?” Twilight said, her lips poised around her mug as she tried to act unflustered.

        “You never really lose the accent, much as you might try to hide it,” replied Chrysalis, offering a slight shrug, nodding in the direction of the waiter when he placed a glass in front of her. “So?”

        “Work.” She took a quick sip of her drink, maintaining her strict posture.

        Something tells me that this girl isn't here to be hit on by a random, older stranger in bar; but then, if not for that, why would she even be here in the first place. It definitely ain't for the sights. There aren't any. Believe me, I've had plenty of time to check, double-check and check again just to make sure I didn't miss anything on my first two checks. Guess what I missed on my first two checks? That's right: nothing. “Work, huh? And what is it that you do for a living, exactly?”

        At that question, the girl looked pained and an ever-so-slight sag settled onto her shoulders.

        “Forget I asked,” said Chrysalis, wondering if she ought to apologise. Nah, that isn't my style at all. If you can't stand the drunken lech, stay out of the places where the drunken leches congregate, as my old aunt always used to say. Probably the only useful bit of advice that she ever gave me. It's not like she's even that cute, anyway, though I wish I'd saved those bits for myself now.

        “I'm here to see you, actually,” Twilight said, her long fingers fondling and twirling the pink streak of her hair agitatedly as she turned her head to stare lopsidedly at Chrysalis. For perhaps the first time in the entire conversation, their eyes actually met. “Your sister sent me here because Luna has-” a pensive look darkened her features momentarily “-taken leave from CHS due to an, um, illness. I've been filling in for her as Celestia's assistant during her sabbatical, but to be honest, the amount of work, especially in the lead-up to the Friendship Games, is impossible for the two of us to handle alone any more.”

        “What happened to Luna?” asked Chrysalis, not even noticing that her hand was shaking until she felt a cool wetness drip down her ebony skin. As calmly as she could, she placed the glass back down on the counter. Ever since they'd kicked her out of CHS when her loutish behaviour had become too much for the school board to ignore, she'd barely even thought about her sisters … except to occasionally curse their names for forcing her to get by as a part-time tutor way out here in the boondocks.

        It was a living, at least – it kept her in drink-money, anyway – and Chrysalis had not been expecting to hear from either of them again, and she'd almost been able to come to terms with that idea, too. And then, dear sister, you send this perky young thing out here to rescue me from my exile. Why, I'm almost flattered that you'd go to all that trouble instead of just calling me up. Did you really think that I'd be more tempted if the request came from this Twilight Sparkle? Ah, sweet Celestia, you know me way too well.

        “She, uh-” Twilight was clearly fishing around for her best diplomatic tone of voice, and Chrysalis did her best to disguise her annoyance, not wishing to antagonise the young girl who was – after all – only out here because of her sister's cowardice “-well, the stress of the job has been getting to her a lot lately. We had a couple of, um, weird incidents around the school recently, too, involving an … exchange student.”

        Why do I feel like I'm only getting half of the story here? “Twilight-” Chrysalis felt an unexpected lump forming in her throat and she had to swallow it down before continuing “-how is Luna?”

        “Oh.” The girl blinked twice, flushing slightly, suddenly realising that she should've opened with that news. “She's fine, really. She had a nervous breakdown of sorts, but she's out of the hospital and recovering well at home. She'll have to go through a lot of psych evaluations before she can return to work, which could takes months.” Chrysalis was sure that there was an If ever left out at the end there.

        “And out of all the candidates, Celestia wanted me?”

        Twilight blew out a sigh. “She wants you to come home.”

        “Huh.” Chrysalis wasn't sure how to feel about that; it was no secret, not amongst the staff of CHS, anyway, that she'd always been envious of her more popular sisters. It always seemed that, no matter what they did, they were the Chosen Ones and were lavished with nothing but praise while she was doomed to go always forgotten. Probably where I get my charming personality from. Now that there was something wrong with Luna, though, was it just possible that she was feeling … sad? Guilty? Irrational though it is, do I think that, had I been there to share in the burden, my gentle little sister wouldn't have cracked under the pressure? Am I feeling, ugh, responsible for what happened to her?

        “Chryssy? Hey, Chrys, are you going to be okay?”

        A knot formed in Chrysalis' stomach, socking her right in the solar plexus; it was her body's way of letting her know that she had been a jerk, and it was yet another feeling that she'd become accustomed to over the years. It was amazing how staring into a pretty pair of mulberry eyes coupled with an empathetic mien were enough to knock her completely off-guard. What bothered her even more was the fact that this wasn't someone just being polite, or trying to get what they wanted from her – something that she'd also become accustomed to – this was someone who actually meant it when they wished you a nice day, or enquired after your health. She's so completely out of my league. Tartarus, we're not even playing the same sport. “Yeah, I'm fine,” she eventually said, recovering smoothly. “Hey, I'm sorry about hitting on you earlier.”

        The girl flushed again, much deeper this time. The purple looked good when tinged with red. “You were hitting on me?”

        “Strangers don't buy strangers drinks out here unless they want something,” Chrysalis replied with a cheeky grin, draining her drink in one gulp. Accepting Celestia's offer would mean working alongside the lovely Miss Sparkle on a daily basis, and that would certainly give her a chance to level the playing field a little. Or bulldoze it entirely, whatever. “When do we leave?”

        “You can take a couple of days to think about it if you'd prefer,” Twilight said, placing a train ticket on the counter. “It's valid until the end of the week. I can imagine-” she stuck out her bottom lip in a fetching pout “-that it's all a lot to take in right now.”

        Her eyes quickly roving over Twilight's lithe form once more, Chrysalis said, “Oh, believe me, I've definitely made up my mind.”

Interlude: A Little Bit Lulu

 Of all the people that could've been standing on the other side of the door, Chrysalis' name hadn't even made Luna's top one thousand guesses; still, there she stood, looking as though she had been sleeping rough in an alleyway for a month rather than having just spent the night in Harmony Hotel. “Do we hug or do we shake hands?” Chrysalis asked, handing a sparkly green gift bag over to her older sister. “Just a warning: you try to do the kissy-kissy thing, I will kick your scrawny behind.”

        “It was one time,” Luna said, rolling her eyes as she accepted the bag, looping the handles around her wrist. “Let's try a hug, eh? See how it feels, for old time's sake, anyway.”

        Chrysalis' arms gripped her sister with a strength that was surprising in such a slender frame.

        Returning the embrace, Luna said after a moment's pause, “This isn't so bad, is it?”

        Breaking free of each other's clutches, Chrysalis stepped inside Luna's apartment and cast a scrutinising eye over the décor; it was all very typically her, with the majority of the fixtures and fittings picked out in midnight blue. A white crescent-shaped couch dominated the living room, and if the sweat-soaked sheets blanketing it were any indication, it was also doubling as her sister's primary sleeping area. The navy curtains were drawn shut, but when Chrysalis pulled them open a cinch and had a look outside, she discovered that the apartment had a rather nice view of Mane Street.

        “You know it's pretty much customary to bring a sick person grapes while they're recovering, right?” Luna said, her brow furrowing slightly as she investigated the contents of the gift bag handed to her earlier by her sister. In between the stacks of puzzle books, DVDs, racy magazines and chocolate bars there were also numerous bottles of wine.

        “And I did,” Chrysalis replied, nodding her head in turn at each of the bottles of Merlot Luna held in either hand. “Your favourite kind, too. Okay, they may be a little bit more aged than you're used to, say six-to-eighteen months more, but I was always taught that it was the thought that counts in a present.”

        Luna made to say something, then thought better of it and simply settled for shaking her head wryly instead. Some people just didn't change, and her younger sister was clearly one of them. “It's … good to see you again, Chrys. Thank you for the gifts. They're very-” she managed a smirk “-thoughtful.”

        “Good to see you again, too, Lulu,” said Chrysalis; her eyes flitted uncertainly about the apartment, as if searching for something. Or someone. “Is … she around?”

        “Celestia? Uh-uh. She said she'd come around some time after school this afternoon.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

        “I still haven't spoken to her since I arrived,” Chrysalis said, the admission bringing a tight-lipped smile to her face. “I'm supposed to be starting as interim vice-principal next week, and I still can't bring myself to face her directly.”

        Luna, suppressing a sigh, pointed at a chair in the living room; she disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and the sound of a cork popping made Chrysalis prick up her ears in interest. She returned a moment later with two full wineglasses in tow. “You know our big sister. She doesn't hold a grudge against anyone for anything. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you again.”

        “Twilight said as much,” replied Chrysalis. She shook her head again. “Anyway, never mind all of that. How are you, Lulu?”

        “I still hate being called Lulu-”

        “-I know, that's why I do it-”

        “-but apart from that, yeah, I'm good.”

        “Really?”

        “Really.”

        Chrysalis took a small sip of her wine, curling her lip up at the acidic flavour. While it was definitely a nice change of taste from the gut-rot served in Salt Block Saloon, she couldn't help but lament the lack of kick to it all the same. “What happened? If you want to talk about it, that is.”

        “It wasn't any one thing,” Luna said, fingering the stem of her glass pensively but never once bringing it to her own lips. “Mostly, just a feeling of being eternally unappreciated, I suppose.” She shot her sister a look. “I guess you'd know more about that than me, though.”

        “Yeah,” Chrysalis replied softly, eyes half-lidded as she recalled all the years spent wandering around aimlessly after being kicked out of CHS by the school board before finally putting down some semblance of roots in Palomino Creek. Literally, the furthest you could get from Canterlot before you'd start heading back there in the opposite direction.

        “Celestia never wanted you to leave, in spite of what you might think, Chrys.”

        “She didn't exactly fight my corner when the board demanded my resignation,” said Chrysalis, an edge of bitterness in her voice.

        “You were on your final warning. Good at your job or not, they'll only turn a blind eye to your, uh, extracurricular activities for so long,” Luna replied defensively, wishing that they didn't have to have this argument again. “Tartarus, if it wasn't for the fact that the Friendship Games are coming up this term and Mi Amore Cadenza took a job at Crystal Prep, they probably wouldn't even have allowed you to return.”

        “Huh. Twilight left the part about Mi Amore Cadenza out.” Well, it only made a modicum of sense that her sister would have cultivated multiple options for the post; still, that skinny little jezebel …? The so-called Princess of Love just because she happened to be a rather good guidance counsellor?

        Luna said nothing.

        Downing the rest of her wine quickly, Chrysalis tossed a scrap of paper on to the table, then got up and headed toward the front door. “Take it easy, okay? If you need me for anything, just call.”

        Luna followed her sister to the door and put a hand on her shoulder. Chrysalis didn't turn around. “Forgive Celestia, please? She didn't want you to get fired, she really didn't want you to leave Canterlot. You know that, if you'd asked her to, she would've used her influence to get you a job anywhere in the city. You were always so stubborn, though, always so determined to do things by yourself in your own … style.”

        Disentangling herself from her sister's grip, Chrysalis said nothing as she made her exit.

        Luna simply stared at the opposite door, a half-angry half-flustered expression on her face.

2. Field Trips Shouldn't Involve Tripping Over Fields

 Chrysalis braced herself against the cold, her frost-bitten face practically disappearing into her woolly red scarf, as she wondered 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 because her impractical-but-stylish purple boots continued to stick in the viscid mushiness of 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 with all the grace and finesse of a newly-calved deer.

        Through teeth that were gritted as much out of annoyance as the chilly weather, 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 in 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 vice-principal did.

        “Let's face it,” Chrysalis said, gently amused by the ire in Twilight's voice, whilst 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.”

        Panting hard, her warm breath quickly cooling to form ice crystals in front of her, 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 too 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. Their footprints would be obliterated almost as soon as they left them by the rapidly falling hail.

        Luck was not on their side either; the storm had shown no signs of abating, and if the way the sky was rapidly 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 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 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 sagely, she just wasn't the sort of person to hold a grudge. What was the point? Besides, the huge crush that she had once held for Celestia while she'd been a student of CHS was so glaringly obvious that it was probably visible from some bizarre parallel universe accessible only by a portal in the school's courtyard. I need to stop eating Pinkie Pie's brownies.

        It was a crush that had quickly 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 them, 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 amongst her classmates.

        Chrysalis extended her gloved hand in Twilight's direction, interrupting the younger woman's reverie. “Friends?”

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

        “Yeah, I have no regrets,” replied Chrysalis, her own smile hidden underneath her scarf.

        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 all 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, thus Twilight and Chrysalis were forced into some uncomfortably close quarters in order to get far enough into the hollow so 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 we'd packed a picnic, huh?”

        “How long d'you think this'll go on for?” asked Twilight, ignoring Chrysalis' forced attempt at levity, wishing that she could stretch out her aching joints, but she 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 made a hesitant noise in the back of her throat 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, but days?

        Putting as much scholarly authority into her voice as she could muster – which wasn't a whole lot, truth be told, because she'd always 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 relax and 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 in exactly the same way that 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 her staring. The family resemblance was easy to see … sometimes. “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 had 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 the scant shards of light creeping in around their backpacks would not be enough for Twilight to see her properly, to see just how on edge she was, and she rapidly came to the conclusion that a distraction would be most 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 a mental checklist of all the people that 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, you mean?”

        “Yeah, him. The two of you seemed pretty tight, from what I heard. When you weren't swooning over Celestia, that is.”

        “I thought you were gonna stop doing 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 to the fact that he wasn't really satisfied with me.” Twilight laughed sourly. “Actually, I haven't even thought about him that much lately. I mean, I was definitely heartbroken at first, but after a while it seemed pointless to bemoan the fact that he'd ditched me for her. Honestly, I hope both 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 in for all that mushy stuff.”

        “Rainbow Dash used to have that exact same attitude, you know?” replied Twilight. “Look at her now: married, still maintaining her career, and expecting her first child. She used to worry about settling down, and it took a lot to convince her that being in a relationship doesn't necessarily mean 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, what sane individual 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 since we don't have a lot of space and I'd rather we didn't die by drowning.”

        “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 at last. “What the …?”

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

        “Good plan,” Chrysalis said wisely and quickly changed the subject to something less likely to provoke furious debate. “So. Sunset Shimmer, eh? She was kind of a Queen Bee, from what I've heard said about her around the school, and I'm not talking about the insect variety either.”

        “You're one to talk. Ow.”

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

        “Fair enough,” said Twilight, wincing slightly, not quite able to shake the feeling that Chrysalis was possibly overreacting to her comment. Still, for the sake of her sides, she wasn't about to say that to her. She shook her head. “But yeah, Sunset Shimmer was a little bit difficult when she first transferred to CHS. Once you got to know her, though, she was actually quite a decent person. Acerbic, but nice. I mean, she'd had kind of a rough childhood and liked to keep people at a distance unless she felt that she could really trust them. It took a lot of perseverance for anyone to get close to her, though she finally did mellow out during her last couple of years at school. Mostly, the staff just remember the worst aspects of her, unfortunately.”

        “I didn't have such a great childhood either,” Chrysalis replied, once again glad of the fact that Twilight wasn't able to see her face properly. “That doesn't give you a license to treat others however you want. Over a certain age, you can't just keep blaming your parents for your crappy decisions any more, you know? People will look to any excuse, no matter how pathetic, in order to justify their poor life choices to themselves.”

        “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 learn to just keep my big trap shut. “It's, well … neither Celestia nor Luna have ever spoken much about it, and I never even knew that you existed until I was sent to Palomino Creek to fetch you.”

        “Oh,” Chrysalis said, rather surprised about that. “It wasn't anything terrible, really. I was just kinda … forgotten about, I suppose.” She rubbed the back of her neck, unsure as to how best to put her difficult thoughts into words. Or whether she should even do so at all. It wasn't something that Chrysalis had ever felt a need to talk about before, and she hadn't ever expected to either.

        That said, the look from Twilight Sparkle was difficult to ignore. What continued to astonish her was the knowledge that it wasn't even out a misguided sense of politeness, or the base-level sympathy a teacher was expected to display when confronted with a problem, but the actual, genuine empathy that a person could only ever be born with.

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

        “That might literally become the case,” Chrysalis said, listening intently to the continued roar of the wind just beyond the frail barrier of their backpacks. “Our parents-” subconsciously she took Twilight's hand in her own and idly played with her fingers as the memories washed over her “-they were always very driven people, and it was pretty obvious to them, even from a young age, that I wasn't really measuring up to the standards that had been set by my older sisters. Hardly a day went by without one of them berating me for not getting as high a mark on a test as they believed I should, or for neglecting my after-school pursuits.” Chrysalis let out a breath she didn't even realise that she was holding. Her chest felt heavy and the beat of her heart quickened.

        Twilight said nothing, feeling that Chrysalis still had more to say, judging by the way that she was gripping her hand tighter, anyway.

        “Growing up, you think that what your family does is normal, right? I tried to speak to Celestia and Luna about it, but just like our parents, they were compelled to succeed, to always be the best at everything. They couldn't understand why I wasn't pushing myself as hard, why I wasn't … more like them.” Chrysalis sighed, letting go of Twilight's hand in the process and turning away. “First chance I got, I was out of there, did every terrible job imaginable to put myself through college, and wasn't it just my luck that I happened to end up getting a job under my sisters at CHS? Things were actually good for a while, too. Until, that is, I got myself fired.”

        After a long moment, Twilight finally said, “I'm so sorry that you had to go through that.”

        “It's cool,” Chrysalis replied with a thin smile. “I turned out all right in the end.”

        “People have this crazy notion that, so long as they aren't physically abusing someone, then it's fine, that it won't lead to any long-lasting repercussions,” said Twilight, trying to keep a lid on her temper, “but they're wrong. The scars of psychological abuse run deeper than anything else, leaving their mark on you long into adulthood. Pushing someone to fulfil their potential is one thing, but pushing just for the sake of it is never good.”

        It wasn't often that Twilight thought about her own formative years; for want of a better word, they had been perfect: her parents had never argued, as far as she knew, at least not about anything serious. Her older brother, Shining Armour, had always been looking out for her, even rushing to her aid whenever she was bullied at school. And her former babysitter, Cadance, was just 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.

        “Still, suffering through that might have been preferable to the alternative that I found for myself,” Chrysalis said quietly. “Leaving home so young, not having anywhere else to go, I ended up getting myself into one bad relationship after another.” Names and faces flashed before her eyes: Tirek, Sombra, Discord, Starlight Glimmer. She had a talent, it seemed, for attracting the worst possible people. 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 of this on you.” That said, Chrysalis did feel a lot better for having got all of this off her chest at last.

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

        “If you really wanna help me right now, you could let me use you as a pillow,” Chrysalis said, her mood changing in a moment as she arched her back against an outcropping of rock until a satisfying click reverberated through her spine. “I'm bushed.”

        “Yes, Your Majesty,” said Twilight with a slight shake of her head. She nonetheless 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,” Chrysalis said, sounding uncertain, “I suppose it'll do.” Despite her teasing, however, she was already beginning to nod-off, and she offered Twilight a tired smile. “You might want to get some shut-eye, too. From the sounds of things out there, this storm's going to go on for at least the rest of the night.”

        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 three mumbled words, “Thank you, Twilight.”