The note was so crumpled, Gusty could barely even make out the words, but that didn’t stop her from checking once more to see if it was securely zipped inside the secret pocket in her small suitcase.
It was, of course, exactly where she had left it, folded into eighths and wedged into the very bottom corner of the pocket where nopony would ever find it. It didn’t matter that she’d read it over dozens of times since she found it on the pillow beside her one morning or that she had memorized the thirty-two small words written in Gingerbread’s loopy scrawl, she still felt an inexplicable desire to read it once more.
Sitting back in her seat, the unicorn glanced about as if worried somepony would see her. Gingerbread was absorbed in a baking magazine, her unbound mane curtaining around her face and obscuring it from view. Nopony else even seemed aware of the two of them, a fact which left Gusty feeling very glad. She felt silly, relying on a scrap of paper for comfort, but still…it was nice being able to read it and reaffirm what she already knew.
She looked down at the little square of paper in her lap, turning it over in her hooves before carefully unfolding it and running a hoof over it in a futile attempt to smooth the wrinkles.
Darling Gusty…
“…Are you all right?”
Gusty jumped at the sound of Gingerbread’s voice, flailing for a moment to keep from sliding out of her seat and onto the floor of the train car.
Her head jerked up and she clutched the scrap of paper close to her chest, almost as if she was attempting to keep it out of the earth pony’s view, which was silly, since Gingerbread had written it. The other mare, however, simply ignored that, giving her a mildly concerned look, brows drawn together. “You were zoned out for, like, ten minutes, Gusty.”
For a moment, Gusty just looked at her stupidly –had she really been staring at the letter for so long?- taking in the sight of luminous blue eyes and a generous mouth framed by wisps of pink and blue hair. Gingerbread cocked her head, blinking, her own gaze never breaking from the unicorn’s. “I’m…” Gusty’s voice was quiet, her eyes darting to the side and finding the other ponies in their train car still occupied with their own business, “I’m not okay.”
“Oh Gusty…” Gingerbread scooted closer, leaning in to the unicorn’s side. She knew exactly what had Gusty upset, but no idea how to really solve the problem. Her partner’s issues were not something she knew how to deal with; the unicorn’s demons were hers and hers alone to vanquish. “You know I never would’ve asked you to come with me if it weren’t Hearth’s Warming. My sister needs help and I wouldn’t deny her that, but…” She paused, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, “The thought of you sitting at home alone during the holidays made me so sad.”
Gusty fell silent again, looking once more at the paper in her hooves.
When Gingerbread had explained to her what was going on and that her sister –whom Gusty had never even met- needed help with a catering job, she had been more than ready to just tell the earth pony to go and get it done with. There hadn’t been a single thought in her mind about accompanying Gingerbread; Canterlot was not a place she had ever wanted to return to. And she had stayed home alone before when Gingerbread had gone to visit family; Gusty was not much of a traveler, nor was she all that comfortable around strangers. But when she had shrugged the whole thing off and told Gingerbread to just go…
~~
“I don’t know why you’re asking me, like you need permission. If you wanna go, go.”
It was late one evening a few weeks back and the two were getting ready for bed.
Gusty had just opened the window a crack, allowing in the chilly night air, and was then in the process of nesting among the blankets. Both ponies slept better in a cold room; there was a lot more snuggling to be had when one was chilly, after all, and neither of them minded a breeze, for completely different reasons.
Gingerbread was in front of the mirror, carefully untying the bow binding her mane. Most days, she kept her mane and tail pulled back, both for practicality reasons and to keep loose hairs from getting in her baked goods. Each night before bed, she went through the same ritual of running a brush through her hair, leaving it silk soft when she finally crawled into bed . “I was hoping you’d come with me…”
“To Canterlot?” Gusty snorted, rolling onto her stomach, propping herself up with one hoof and prodding at a pillow with the other, trying to get it settled just right, “No thanks.”
“But Gusty…”
At the baker’s tone, Gusty lifted her head to meet the other pony’s gaze in the mirror. Gingerbread had paused in her grooming and was staring at Gusty’s reflection, her eyes shimmering with tears, lower lip quivering.
“Don’t start…” The unicorn sighed, pulling back the blanket and patting the space beside her. Gingerbread climbed onto the bed, curling close. “Seriously. Don’t cry.”
“But it’s Hearth’s Warming.” Gingerbread’s pathetically sad expression was even more devastating up close, “I can’t just go and leave you behind!”
“I told you it’s okay.” Gusty grumbled, tugging the other mare closer at the same time. It wasn’t often that Gingerbread got vulnerable or needy; Gusty herself usually played that part in their relationship. And the unicorn was awkward enough with her own feelings that dealing with those of other ponies was a nearly impossible task. “It’s not leaving me behind if I don’t wanna go.”
Gingerbread pouted, tipping her head forwards in a certain way, a way that caused her long mane to cascade over her shoulders, the freshly brushed tresses glowing in the soft light of the bedside lamp. She stuck out her lower lip, eyes half-lidded, and when she spoke again, her voice was a mere whisper. “But I want you to come.”
Sometimes, she played so dirty.
~~
“It’s fine.” There was no getting out of it now, anyway. The train was chugging along, getting nearer and nearer to their destination with every second. Gusty would just have to build up her walls and deal with it. “I said I would come and here I am, right?”
Her tone was brusque, though after so long, Gingerbread knew better than to believe all of her bluster. A lot of the unicorn’s tough-as-nails attitude was just for show; she’d learned a lot about putting up a front when she was still living in Canterlot.
Gusty had never been incredibly popular as a young mare; she was too uncultured and brash to really fit in with the other unicorns in her upper middleclass neighborhood, and her magic was archaic and strange compared to that of her peers. And even as a filly, she had been smart enough to know she was different and that she had to do something about it or she would be picked on and belittled.
Her defense mechanism was the impatient, aggressive persona she showed most of the world.
When they first met, Gingerbread had been put off by Gusty’s rudeness and lack of concern for others’ feelings. The first time a bored, hungry Gusty had wandered into her shop and demanded her attention, the baker had been annoyed. But as she got to know the unicorn better, she realized Gusty was lonely and awkward, not really mean and unbearable.
Gingerbread smiled, casually sliding her foreleg around Gusty’s shoulders. The unicorn tensed –she didn’t like public displays of affection much- but didn’t move away. “I’m glad you’re here.” She said softly, “I know it’s going to be really hard for you, but I think we can handle it together.”
At that, Gusty did pull away, sliding over on the seat cushion to look out at the countryside whizzing past them. She leaned her cheek against the cool glass of the window, her breath fogging the glass and obscuring the already blurry scenery.
She really, really didn’t want to be on the train, headed to Canterlot. In the years since she’d left, her mother had written to her many, many times, at first asking her to visit and later pleading with her. She’d seen her parents, of course, on the rare occasion that they’d come to Ponyville for a family event, but had not set hoof in the city of her birth since that last day. Though her parents had been supportive and understanding to the best of their abilities, she felt more at home in Ponyville, where nopony cared about what she could and couldn’t do, where she found work suited to her special talents, and where she could spend time doing outdoorsy things with Uncle Magnum.
She never would have even thought about going back, were it not for Gingerbread’s wanting her to.
“Yeah, yeah.” Gusty waved a hoof dismissively, still watching the world pass by outside the window, “I had to come. You might need me.”
Gingerbread didn’t say anything, choosing instead to settle back into her own seat and shut her eyes for a moment. She knew that Gusty’s words translated to something more along the lines of ‘thanks’ and that saying she always needed the unicorn around wouldn’t be well received. Gusty wasn’t one for emotional displays, nor was she one for romance. Gingerbread had learned early on that it embarrassed the other mare when she tried to be lovey-dovey around other ponies, so she didn’t bother, instead saving all of the more overt forms of affection for when they were alone together.
And over the years, she had grown accustomed to their having a lot of time alone together. Owning the bakery left her free to set her own schedule and work on her own time. And Gusty’s job was mercilessly undemanding, but paid well, because she worked for the town. They were able to spend a lot of time together, whether out and about, in the bakery’s kitchen, or simply at home, and both of them enjoyed relaxing in each other’s company.
The next week was going to be incredibly difficult for both of them, and Gingerbread knew it.
Staying at Cupcake’s house, there would be little in the way of privacy. Oh, Cupcake would let them share a room; she was a progressive mare and saw nothing improper about two ponies who weren’t married sharing a bed. But they would be staying in a house that was not their own, with Gingerbread’s somewhat nosy sister, a filly who always wanted to be involved in everything and seldom remembered to use her manners, and a unicorn who offered his opinions freely to anypony, whether or not they wanted to hear them.
Gingerbread had dealt with them often enough, and though she loved her sister’s family, she knew Gusty was not going to enjoy them much and would therefore be moody and irritated most of the week.
It was going to be a long, long week and Gingerbread hoped she would have the patience to deal with the demands of helping her sister and handling her testy partner.
As the train rounded the final bend and Canterlot came in to sight, Gusty’s shoulder’s tightened, her ears pinned back against her skull. As the train slowed, pulling in to the station, she seemed to fold further and further in on herself. Gingerbread watched her, fighting the natural urge to pull the other mare close and safe.
“We’re in Canterlot.” Gusty spoke the obvious without turning from the window, her voice tight and small. She was still staring out at the world, which had changed from a peaceful snow-frosted panorama to a colorful, festive blur of ponies and buildings and beautiful elegance.
Gingerbread dared to brush a hoof through the unicorn’s mane, offering quiet reassurance. “It’ll be okay.”