One could probably fault me for choosing not to see my therapist next, but honestly? I think the choice is a natural one. Sure, Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara look fine on the outside, but as I’m sure Clear Conscience would be eager to point out, traumatic experiences don’t always leave physical scars. I know Diamond Tiara’s probably still reeling from nearly losing her best friend, but what of Silver Spoon? Nearly losing your life so many times isn’t going to leave you feeling right as rain—something I know from experience.

Moving on from the parental group, I make my way silently toward the young pair. They’re certainly happy on the surface, conversing animatedly about Silver Spoon’s new glasses and giggling at an unspoken joke. I know when I saw them upon entering, I thought they looked like children who think they’re in love, but watching them now, it’s clear that any love between them is more sororal than anything else. Then again, what do I know?

A part of me doesn’t want to believe that just saving a life and helping these two is going to make them nicer ponies, but another part of me reminds me about what I told Gale. They have plenty of opportunities to grow up, and with the right nudges, they won’t end up like Aqua Regia. From what I’ve seen of Silver Spoon’s family and what I know of Filthy Rich, it’s not so much their upbringing as it is an overwhelming desire to see their children happy and not a strong belief in the word ‘no’. Given all that, and what they’ve been through in the last week, I have no doubt that they are going to turn out to be much better ponies.

“Good morning, girls,” I greet them warmly. “How are you both doing today?”

“Hi...” I’m kinda taken aback by Silver Spoon’s sudden shyness, but I suppose that could be expected. There’s usually two reactions when one meets an idol or role model; on one hoof, there could be tons of excited gushing, as is the case of Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash, but on the other, a pony might find themselves at a loss of words. “I’m good now, and it’s all thanks to you!”

“Thank you for saving her, Miss,” Diamond Tiara adds happily. Her demeanor quickly shifts to one of sorrow, and she lowers her gaze. “If... anything had happened to her, I’d be all alone. Nopony else would want to be my friend after the way w—the way I’ve treated everypony.”

I can’t help but chuckle lightly, shaking my head. “Girls, if there’s something I’ve learned about ponies, it’s that they’ll always shock you in ways you least expect it,” I explain, lifting her chin to look her compassionately in the eyes. “Ponies have a great capacity for love or compassion, even for their enemies.” Though there are exceptions. “Somepony would have stepped up and said, ‘Yeah, she was mean to us, but she doesn’t deserve to be alone like that in her greatest time of need!’” Her smile returns, albeit not as strongly. “You’d probably be surprised, but I reckon Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle would be those ponies. That goes for the both of you.”

A look of confusion furrows Diamond’s brow. “Those blank fl—those talentless fr—those three?” she asks, altering her wording every time she notes my own lack of a cutie mark. “Why them?”

“They do kinda have a reason to hate us,” Silver Spoon agrees solemnly. “Why would they help us?”

“The three of them have good hearts,” I softly speak. “I know they seem silly to you, obsessing over their cutie marks and getting into all sorts of trouble, but their hearts are in the right place. Sure, it could in part be an opportunity for them to be ‘Cutie Mark Crusader Peacemakers’, but I honestly don’t think they have it in them to be mean.”

The pair of fillies look down at the floor again, their ears drooping in shame. “We wouldn’t deserve their kindness,” the silver filly admits. “We’ve been nothing but horrible to them.”

“Nonsense!” I tap my hoof thrice on the hardwood to get their attention. “You’re forgetting something really important girls. The five of you are all still so young—so full of potential for change! There’s nothing from stopping you from making peace with them or being friends except the belief that you don’t deserve their friendship.”

“You mean it?”

“I won’t lie,” I look at them seriously. “You’ll probably need to work on your... perceptions of the world a bit, and a gesture of goodwill to show that you’re being genuine is probably in order, but beyond that, they’d probably accept you pretty easily.”

The girls begin smiling again, so I decide to nail it home. “Besides, you have a lot more in common than you probably think.” I clap my forehooves for emphasis. “You both have successful business-ponies in your families, something you share with Applebloom. Even if you won’t come out and say it, you have your idols—ponies you’re probably incredibly dedicated to—just like Scootaloo. I’ve saved Sweetie’s life in the past, and now I’ve saved yours, Silver. Likewise, I’ve saved their friendships and I’ve saved yours. That’s a lot of common ground right there.”

“When you put it like that,” they say in unison, “it doesn’t sound that bad.”

Now, I’m no fool. Had I been any other pony telling them all this, I have no doubt that the two would be far less accepting of my words. This is why Clear Conscience likes to build rapport with his patients rather than remaining distant; the word of somepony who’s earned your trust is worth more to you than the word of somepony you’re told to trust. Hell, I still have half a reason to believe that they might not be genuine, but I’m pretty sure that’s a personal bias.

“You two be good now,” I say, feeling suddenly distracted. It feels like Clear Conscience has been watching me since I’ve been conversing with his niece. Now, for all I know, he’s been wanting to talk to me since he found out I saved Silver Spoon’s life, and really I kind of expect that. He has every right to feel concerned about my emotional state given what I’ve been through. “I’ve gotta go catch up with your uncle for a bit.”

As I begin making my way over to him, the creme unicorn leads me over to what appears to be the receptionist’s desk. It might be more apt to say it was the receptionist’s desk, as it’s clearly been appropriated to be used as a tea table. The stallion says nothing, but motions for me to sit on one of the chairs at the table.

Pushing a chair up, I use my wings to propel me high enough to scuttle onto the seat. “Morning, Doc,” I greet jovially. “It’s been too long.”

“It has,” he agrees, stroking his beard. Levitating over the tea-set and a selection of tea-bags, he offers me a cup. “Chai?”

“I’ll take a chamomile for now, thanks.” He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment as I accept the teacup and saucer, setting them down before me. It isn’t long until he floats over a tea-bag and a now steaming pot of tea. “Given all I’ve been through, especially being paraded through town by a citizen, I need something to calm me down.”

Clear nods, pouring water into my cup to join the tea-bag. “So you are still thinking about what happened nearly a year ago,” he commented softly. “I was worried about that.”

Staring at the cup, I practice a breathing exercise in order to focus myself. “It’s not nearly as bad as you probably expect,” I finally admit, smiling sadly. “I mean yeah, I thought about Pound Cake once or twice when all this hullabaloo started, but it’s more being called a hero that’s bothering me more than anything else, right now.”

With a look of bewilderment, he sips at his cup of tea, despite the fact that it clearly hasn’t been long enough to properly steep. “You don’t feel you are deserving of praise?”

“I’m not denying I did a good thing, but it hurts that they tried to increase my heroism beyond what had actually occurred.” I shake my head, staring at my hooves on the edge of the table. “Beyond running to my doom and living, and protecting a wounded filly from a cockatrice and lamia, I didn’t do anything anypony else wouldn’t have. This whole day is reminding me of a strange little parable from my world.”

“There were four ponies, named Everypony, Somepony, Anypony, and Nopony respectively,” I explain, not feeling it necessary to point out my paraphrasing. “There was an important job that needed doing and Everypony expected Somepony would do it. Anypony could do it, but Nopony did. Somepony was pissed because it was clearly Everypony’s responsibility. Everypony thought Anypony would do it, but Nopony realized that Everypony wouldn’t do it. It ended up that Everypony blamed Somepony when Anypony could have done what Nopony did.”

“I’m not sure I follow how that ties in to the situation,” he says, frowning. “That story sounds like an allusion to the way blame is shifted when nothing is done.”

I nod, finally sipping at my tea. It could use a little sugar, but that wouldn’t help calm me any. “It is,” I admit sharing his frown. “I feel like this is a parallel situation, where Everypony expects Anypony to do something that Nopony without a death-wish would, but Somepony did it anyway. So of course Everypony wants to thank Somepony for what Anypony could have done.”

“... and for that I am grateful,” he says curtly, before softening his expression. “I do see what you are trying to get at though. Ponies like having heroes, and for somepony such as yourself it is a curse, rather than a blessing, as it digs at old emotional scars.” I nod to him. “I told the mayor that is how you would feel.”

“What is it with ponies and gambling on whether I’ll do one thing or another lately?” I mutter. In a more audible tone, I add, “Aside from that I’m doing a lot better.” With another sip of my tea, I smile at him. “If you can believe it, I’ve actually got a special somepony now. Not a bad outcome considering I had her scared enough to want to leave the university.”

He watches me questioningly for a couple of moments, finishing his tea.“You’ve definitely changed a lot, Silver Script,” he finally concludes. With a nod of his head, he extends a hoof across the table. “It’s been a long way coming, but you finally look like you’re learning how to cope with things and open up to ponies. I dare say you most likely won’t need to visit any more when I finally get back to Canterlot, but... well... You don’t hold a practice by turning ponies away if they want to talk.”

“Don’t worry, Doc,” I answer, reaching my hoof out to bump his. “I’ve still got lots of crazy to work out. Some of it might have to wait though. There are some... affairs I need to get in order in Canterlot before we schedule another appointment.” Pausing to take note of his reaction to my choice of words, I shake my head. “I know that begs some discussion, but I want to sort this all out before I talk about it. It’ll be easier if I don’t have it hanging over my head. I was able to talk to the pony who matter the most in my life about it, and that’s enough for me.”

“So long as you don’t plan anything... foolish, I can respect that.”

After finishing my discussion with Clear Conscience, I sit by myself at the tea table for a while, just drinking my tea. It isn’t that I don’t want to see the others, but at the same time, I don’t want to leave the table for the time being. It’s almost as if I never expected my first time talking to him in months to be so draining. Mostly, I think it’s the fact that I basically promised him a discussion sooner rather than later.

It leaves me silently wondering how I’m going to ‘get my affairs in order’ anyway. Need I forget that I’m basically going to be accusing a scion of one of Equestria’s most powerful families of rape. That’s not something you just… do. There are certain protocols that I don’t know that need to be followed if I don’t want to wake up dead. Wait. Fuck!

The simplest thing to do is probably just go to Princess Luna about it, but I wouldn’t put it past Aqua Regia to have somepony watching me like a hawk. Would I even make it to the castle if I make any indication that it is my destination? Chances are that I won’t make it, ending with my corpse discarded in a back-alley to be found by some street-urchin foal. Yeah, that’s lovely imagery right there.

I suppose I could mention it to Luna in a dream if I see her, but that is a significantly big if. Given that last time she appeared in one of my dreams was when she wanted to warn me about all this, I don’t reckon that the chances are high that she’ll need to speak within the vague time limit I’ve set for myself. Unless I have a nightmare, I’m probably shit outta luck in that department.

“Maybe it’s best if I wait until I’m back home to figure it—”

“A bit for yer thoughts, sugarcube?” Applejack says, sitting down across from me, smiling kindly. Beside her, Rainbow also takes a seat. “Ya’ll look mighty distracted ‘bout somethin’.”

Thoughtfully turning the teacup with one hoof, I look up at AJ. “I’m just thinking about stuff, I guess,” I murmur, dropping my chin onto an elbow. “Still got a lot to do once I’m back in Canterlot before university starts back up, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out how to go about it.”

“Ah know it’s not my place sayin’ this, but she’d be stupid to try anythin’,” she says quietly, her expression apologetic. “It’d cause too many questions—too much of a stir—if’n she did so stop worryin’ so much about what she might do if ya do act, or ya’ll better prepare for what ya feared if ya don’t.”

As if catching my betrayed look in Rainbow Dash’s direction, the blonde mare reaches across the table with both hooves, taking hold of my free arm. “Now, don’t you be going getting the wrong idea,” she says firmly. “She an’ I talked last night, that much is true, but we ain’t discussed nothin’ I ain’t already heard.”

I look at Applejack in horror, suddenly feeling panic. The pony who can’t tell a lie knows!? Oh no, oh no no no! Not good!

“Relax, sugarcube,” she soothes, patting my arm gently. “Ah know ya’ll trusted Dashie with this, an’ while it was wrong of me to be eavesdroppin’ while Ah was buckin’ that part of the orchard, Ah kin understand why ya ain’t want it acted on. Ah promise not to breathe a word of it to nopony. Cain’t lie about it, but Ah kin still keep a secret, Pinkie Promise.”

I feel a little better about that, but not by much. You can only get so far on omissions and candidly refusing to answer; at some point, you’ll be backed into a corner faced with the choice of telling the truth or coming to harm. “Thanks, I guess,” I whisper, pulling my hoof free. “I get the impression you overhear a lot of things in the clouds above your orchard that ponies don’t want heard.”

“If’n that’s true, and Ah ain’t sayin’ it is,” she says with a grin, “Ah might adopt an attitude of ‘What happens on the farm stays on the farm.’”

Well thanks AJ for giving me the exact wrong mental image there. Hell why does my brain still work that way? Surely AJ wouldn’t do that with Mac, would she?

“I probably should have brought you somewhere more private—I would have, if I’d known,” Rainbow confesses, her ears drooping. “You don’t have to worry though. AJ’s heard a lotta things I didn’t want anypony hearing because I keep moping above her orchard when something has me feeling down.”

I give Rainbow Dash an accusatory look before smiling softly. “It sounds to me like subconsciously, you didn’t want to bear the burden of what I told you alone.”

“Yeah, except for the fact that I took you there before I knew you were going to tell me any of that,” she shoots back, grinning. “Your argument is invalid, I used logic.”

Applejack chuckled lightly. “Shucks, Dash, you know what she means.”

I look mischievously at the two before scrambling up onto the table and tackle the both of them. The three of us end up in a pile behind two overturned chairs. At first, the both of them struggle—possibly convinced I’ve lost my shit again—but those struggles gradually ebb as they realize I’m not attacking, but hugging them instead. After a few moments, they even hug me back. There’s nothing that can really explain why I leapt across the table at them just to hug them. Ponies are just so soft and huggable.

“I know this hug is probably as absurd to the both of you as it is to me, but I’m kinda grateful,” I finally say. Letting them go, I smile. “I dare say you might be summoned to Canterlot at some point in the foreseeable future to testify. Haven’t worked out exactly how all of this is going to go down yet, and I hate to drag you into things, but...”

“Just take it one step at a time, sugarcube,” Applejack says, pushing herself up. Pulling a slightly dazed dash back onto her hooves she tips her hat. “Ya’ll do what you gotta do, and we’ll do our darndest to see justice done.”

I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that wording but I say nothing. “Thanks,” I reply softly. “Say, where is Twilight, anyway? I spotted the lot of you running around in a singing tizzy yesterday, so I figured you all might be here to be rewarded too.”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up.” Dash smacks me lightly on the shoulder, grinning. “She probably just didn’t realize the time when she fell asleep after studying whatever she had to.”

Bloody hell, waiting is boring. I know I haven’t seen most of these ponies in person for months now, but there’s only so much you can converse with them about when you’d rather spare them the darker details of your life. I’d rather not make Rarity or Fluttershy pity me, and I don’t even want to know how Pinkie would react to something like that. Let’s face it, ‘Hi Fluttershy, how are you? Oh, that’s wonderful! I was raped during my first estrus and never pressed charges,’ will never seem like a good discussion layout.

That’s not to say I can’t manage some conversations with them to kill the time. Some of my time is spent discussing a commission of some new saddlebags to replace what was lost to the lamia. From there, my attempts to dissuade her from her generous offer of ‘Why darling, I can’t in good conscience let an alchemist and hero not have the best for anything less than free’ are a complete failure. I don’t even know how this happened, but now she’s making my new saddlebags and she’s taking me to the spa because, and I quote, ‘Aloe and Lotus have this wonderful shampoo that does wonders for regrowing one’s coat and mane after going through such traumatic events as yours have.’

I’m starting to think I have a hard time saying no, because when I attempt to explain that my marefriend will be lonely, I only dig myself deeper. Well… at least Blossom and I get a spa date with Rarity and Fluttershy tomorrow afternoon. That’s a good thing, I think. Nope; I’m thinking I’ve just been conned by a mare into accepting her generosity.

At least Fluttershy isn’t scared of me. Wouldn’t rightly blame her after killing a cockatrice—they don’t know about the trophy, thank fuck—and a lamia, but she’s surprisingly understanding. Granted, the mare might spend a bit too much time around animals if she honestly thinks ‘the cornered rat will bite the cat’ is an apt representation of what I went through. Then again, she does have a point about feeling compelled to protect our young, regardless of whose child it is.

From there, we go on to discussing Lyra’s foal and how things are going there. It’s no surprise that Fluttershy’s surprised to hear that Lyra’s already gone through foaling and delivered a completely healthy filly. When a child is born outside the hospital, there’s always time for concern about her health. So of course, I tell her about passing out in the living room, waking up in a pony-pile, and being subjected to Lyra and Blossom’s little bet. Of course Fluttershy thinks it’s all adorable. Hell, I have no doubt she would squee to death if I told her about the dream I’d had that morning.

Pinkie? Well, as I’m sure fanfiction is quick to point out, ‘Pinkie’s gonna Pinkie.’ I swear on my life that mare is the poster-child for why force-feeding your children ritalin is a good idea. Then again, her Pinkie Sense kind of sounds like the list of possible side effects of the drug. Her hyper-focus on parties definitely makes sense in that light, and I think that’s even scarier.

Seriously! This mare will motormouth you for fifteen minutes straight about how she needs to hold a party for your return and your heroism, and for Lyra, and her newborn, and your first romantic kiss with your marefriend and your departure, ad nauseum. Part of me want to kidnap this mare, give her to the Royal Guard and tell them, “This is your new interrogator.” She could get somepony to confess to anything if you locked her in a room with them long enough.

Don’t get me wrong though. Pinkie’s a nice mare, and she’s a great cook. She just scares the everloving fuck out of me. As I am quick to point out, you just don’t fucking randomly dose people with a potent fertility drug that changes the recipient’s sex for breeding purposes! Oh, but wouldn’t you know it? It’s all okay because her Pinkie Sense told her that somepony’s dreams would come true that night. If I was a spiteful asshole, I would have her charged with accessory to rape.

But yeah, all that time spent talking to those three barely kills an hour, leaving me stuck waiting for the Crown’s representative to come give me a goddamn medal or plaque or some such shit. Seriously! I could be at Lyra’s place playing with my niece—no, I don’t care that I’m not related by blood; she’s my niece because herd logic—or maybe giving Bon-Bon a helping hoof at her shop. That ‘I’m Commander Shepard and this is my favorite x in y’ nonsense became a damn meme, so it’d probably do wonders for business the newest hero added to Ponyville’s records shops there.

“I’m sorry Mayor Mare, but I don’t think this representative is going to show,” I apologize, speaking to the mayor as I walk to the door. Waiting three hours for somepony to show up is not my idea of a good day. I have done that before, and I don’t recommend it. “I’m sure everypony else has much better things to be doing than waiting around now that all the food tables are empty.”

“Quite,” she agrees a bit glumly—I don’t think she’s over those fifty bits yet. “As loathe as I am to admit it, this does seem to be a lost ca—”

Wouldn’t you know it. WOULDN’T YOU FUCKING KNOW IT. Just as I am reaching for the ring to open the door, both doors swing wide-fucking-open in some ungodly magical force. Of course, what happens when a light object is struck by a larger object being affected by a powerful force? If you guessed that Neighton’s third law of motion comes into effect, you better damn well bet you are correct.

Pop-quiz time! What happens when a large wooden door, propelled open by a great force, strikes a small, light pony like myself? Do I explode in a gory mess? Do I go flying along the vector dictated by the exerted force while the door bounces slightly? Does something randomly catch fire? I’ll give you a hint: there’s something wrong if you guess anything but the second choice, but all things considered, the last one is also acceptable. My head certainly feels like it.

Despite the fact that I should probably be wondering who in the hell I landed on—no doubt the mayor—the only thing I can bring myself to do is try to focus my eyes and blink through all the stars in my vision. It takes a few moments, but I’m finally able to see my assailant.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” the mare exclaims frantically. “After everything that happened last night, Princess Celestia decided as my first act as royalty I should be the one to give Silver her medal, but I didn’t know the proper protocol, so I was up all night trying to find the proper protocols and…”

What I’m seeing makes no sense. Twilight Sparkle is standing ranting before me, her wings and horn proudly outlined by the sunlight. People of the supposed jury, Twilight Sparkle is a unicorn, just as she was in Canterlot with no wings but instead a horn. If Twilight Sparkle has wings, this makes no sense. Why would a unicorn, a magical being able to direct internal and external flows of mana with its horn, suddenly have wings? This does not make sense! Does this make sense? Why am I seeing a unicorn with wings? People of the jury, if Twilight has wings, you must… Wait. Waaaait.

“Either I’m far too drunk, or I’m misunderstanding the situation,” I murmur, rubbing my head. “Twilight Sparkle has wings, thus making her an alicorn and princess. The lateness kinda makes so much more sense now.” Looking up at the mare, I gave Twilight a grin. “The Princess Twilight cometh, behold, behold!”

Twilight stares at me in disbelief before frowning and facehoofing. “Oh no, not you too!” she cries out. “I haven’t even had my coronation ceremony yet! Why does this suddenly change everything?”

I look at her thoughtfully before turning to help my landing platform—yep, the mayor!—back to her hooves. “Okay,” I say nonchalantly. “Sup?”

Everypony in the room—who, up to this point has been watching and listening intently—gasps at my indifferent irreverence, causing me to glance around uneasily. The mayor’s glasses lay forgotten on the floor as she gawks down at me. Rarity and Silver Lining—distracted from some discussion with Silver Spoon—look like they’re about to have a conniption fit, or suffer a stroke at any moment. All of the others have varying degrees of confusion or fear plastered on their face.

“You—you’re just going to drop all pretense of formality and treat me casually?” Twilight finally stammers, entering the hall and closing the doors behind herself. “Why?”

Trying my best to pull off Han Solo’s infamous half-cocked grin, I laugh gently. “Twilight, I thought you knew me better than that,” I answer in mock consternation. “Remember when Celestia called you back to Canterlot after that... madness last year? You were supposed to help me learn about Equestria as penance for your role in taking me from my life... getting Lyra that spell and then later bringing me here.

“Remember how uncomfortable it used to be when you were treating it like a punishment?” I ask, to which she nods. “What did I do?”

She stops to think, possibly scouring her memory. “You asked me not to treat this like some sort of punishment, having to tutor somepony who tried to bring me serious harm, but to treat it like an act of friendship,” she answers her tone lightening. “You didn’t want me feeling uncomfortable about teaching you, so you insisted that I treat you like a foal who needed excessive tutoring.” With a giggle, she adds, “You definitely had both parts of that down.”

With a guffaw, I approached her and joined her at her side. “That’s right,” I confirm. “I made you ignore the point of discomfort between us both, and everything happened all that easier. That’s what I just did now.” I place a hoof on one of her elbows before motioning her forward. “You’ve only just come into your power, and you’re still coming to terms with it, right?”

“Yeah,” she smiles back. In a surprising bout of playfulness, she asks, “Is this way of saying ‘I really like your new wings, so please don’t give me a hero’s medal?’ That is why you brought it up, right? You don’t want to be treated like a hero?”

With a shake of my head, I giggle. “The thought crossed my mind, but I know when I’m fighting a losing battle,” I snicker. Leaning closer, I whisper, “If the Ponyvillians see me leave without some sort of reward, they might assume their new princess acted on a personal bias that doesn’t actually exist and refused to grant the hero her boon. I dare say they might raze Ponyville or lynch the yet-to-be coronated princess.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she groans, ‘accidentally’ smacking me in the back of the head with her wing. “I can’t believe Princess Celestia actually told you that story. Oh well, let’s get the ceremony out of the way with since all formality has gone to the wind, oh Hero of Ponyville.”

“Sure thing, Princess Twilight,” I playfully rib back. “Thank you for not making a big deal out of this.”

Author's Notes:

Seven's on a bit of a roll lately. That being said, this is the last chapter in the Ponyville story arc. The next chapter you can expect from me is one of my usual transitory interludes. That being said, we're coming up on the home stretch, and many of you have probably noticed a change in tags. Now, I know what you might be thinking: "Seven, why spring this on us now?"

The answer? I'm lazy and forgetful. A lot of stuff goes down in the future, and it's been planned that way for some time now. Pretty much from the beginning, really. I'm just really shit about remembering that stuff. Sorry. My bad.

Anyway... Thanks go to E3gner, DarkxRedemption, and NightmareKnight, as per normal. Without you guys, I'd probably look like a well-articulated drunk.