“You’re not really going to take the star, are you, Lemon?” A worried Silver Thread asked as she and Lemon hurried through the bustling streets en route to her family’s house. “I mean…Mimic is full of it and you don’t have to prove anything to anypony.”
Lemon Meringue had fallen strangely quiet after Mimic issued the challenge. Before she could properly respond, however, a tired-sounding voice had called the trouble-making filly’s name and Mimic had galloped off, calling over her shoulder that she would be able to tell whether or not Lemon had proven how cool she was.
And as the two fillies cantered through the slushy streets, Lemon had remained silent, an odd look on her face.
“I don’t know…” She finally said, “I don’t really want Mimic to make fun of me, but…Mother and Razzle Dazzle and Galaxy have worked really hard to make sure everything is perfect. I don’t want to wreck it and that star is Galaxy’s. It would really be stealing if I took it!”
“Not if you just took it off and put it somewhere where Galaxy could find it again.” Silver Thread blurted the words out without really meaning to. This whole thing smacked of a bad idea, but Lemon was stubborn and getting her to listen was difficult, especially if she’d already made up her mind – Which she seemed to have done. “Mimic didn’t say you had to keep it…Just that you had to take it off. And it’s really big…She’ll be able to see if it’s gone or not.”
The yellow filly was unnaturally quiet again, brows knit as she pondered that idea.
“That…might work.” She said slowly, pausing a moment at a corner and waiting for the hooftraffic and cabs to slow so they could cross. “I mean…It wouldn’t really wreck the festival, would it?” She didn’t wait for a response -- She hadn’t really wanted one. Lemon sometimes talked to herself when she was working things out; Silver Thread had learned that early in their friendship. “Galaxy could just put the star back on top when she found it!”
“I guess so…” Silver Thread hurried after Lemon as she dashed across the street before traffic picked up again. To the grey filly, it sounded like the kind of stupid idea her older brother would have; the kind that would result in their parents getting a call from the Royal Guard and Snappy getting a stern talking to and grounding.
“I don’t think I can get outside the city walls before the Tree Lighting, though,” Lemon mused, talking more to herself than the other unicorn, “so it’ll have to wait until that night…But I bet I can get it down with my magic. I’ve been practicing and I’m getting better!”
It was a bad idea and deep down, Lemon Meringue knew it. But in that moment, she wasn’t thinking of right or wrong and she certainly didn’t consider the trouble she’d get in. A burning desire to show that windbag Mimic was clouding her already limited judgment.
Silver Thread could practically see the thought floating above her friend’s head; Lemon believed it was a fabulous idea and that nothing could possibly go wrong.
So of course something would.
-
“Where in Equestria is everypony?”
Gusty was sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich when Graham Cracker came trotting briskly in, tone annoyed.
Once Gusty had let her up from the couch, Gingerbread had set out for the market, claiming they needed more flour to complete the baking. The unicorn had seen a huge sack of flour in the pantry when looking for sandwich fixings and suspected the baker was really off doing a little holiday shopping, but she could and would play along. Cupcake was still sleeping; apparently she hadn’t been getting anywhere near enough rest over the past couple weeks. And Lemon Meringue hadn’t yet returned from her friend’s house, leaving Gusty to fend for herself.
And deal with Graham, a prospect that was not at all pleasant.
“Cupcake’s having a nap.” She took a bite of her sandwich, choosing to revel in the indescribable taste of the Apple Family Zap Apple Jam instead of looking up at the other unicorn, “Lemon’s at her friend’s.” She was talking with her mouth full, but didn’t really care. Graham had been rude to her over the few days she’d been at his house and she certainly was one to treat others like they treated her. “And Gingerbread’s gone shopping. Guess you’re stuck with me.”
Behind her, Graham rolled his eyes, scowling at her back. He found Gusty to be unbearably crass and her manners lacking. She seemed to say pretty much whatever came to mind and didn’t care a whit about proper grammar or the niceties of society. He was completely baffled as to how such an uncouth unicorn could have possibly come from a Neighbury Park family.
“And you do not cook.” He said flatly, causing her to glance up, an ‘are you kidding me?’ look plastered on her face.
She snorted, shaking her head, short mane falling into her eyes. “If I can manage to make a sandwich, I think you can too.” Giving an over-exaggerated roll of her own eyes, she turned back to the table, picking her sort of squashed sandwich up between her front hooves.
Graham trotted past the table, ignoring her and tugging the refrigerator open with a tendril of emerald magic. He stood before the icebox, green gaze flickering up and down as he perused the shelves for something suitable for dinner.
Locating a pot of soup Cupcake had made several days beforehand, he levitated it out and to the stove. He himself didn’t cook –that was part of why he’d married a pony with a cooking-related special talent- but he had learned over the years how to work the stove and prepare simple things or reheat Cupcake’s food. Every now and again, his wife catered an evening affair that left him responsible for dinner and he had found himself unwilling to let Lemon Meringue get spoiled by too much takeout.
The pot situated on the stove, Graham turned back to the table, glancing disdainfully at the unicorn mare still munching on her Zap Apple Jam sandwich. “Why,” he sniffed, “do you eat like that?”
Gusty froze mid-chew, letting the sandwich fall from her hooves and back onto the plate. She attempted to swallow, but the bite in her mouth stuck in her throat, which had suddenly gone incredibly dry. Grabbing her water glass, she took a long swig, forcing the mouthful down her throat.
“Why do you not eat in the proper manner?” The stallion pressed, one brow quirked upwards as he watched the mare struggle with her dinner. “I have never met an adult unicorn who doesn’t manipulate their food with magic before. It is the polite way to eat, after all.”
The white unicorn lifted her head, steely gaze meeting his emerald green eyes and holding them in a cold stare. “I don’t suppose,” she began quietly, “a pampered stallion like you would know anything about life with limited magical ability.” Though her tone was low and even, her words were full of resentment and ice, intense enough to keep Graham quiet. “Ponies like me are usually kept away from classy, talented ponies like you, because a lot of unicorns seem to think magic block is catching.”
Graham was silent for a moment, just studying her, emerald gaze never straying from her face. He knew, of course, of such a thing as a unicorn with limited magic; it was something every unicorn worried about when they had a foal. Very few unicorns failed to develop the basics of their magic by the time they were of school age, however; it was a rare phenomenon that nopony could explain, though doctors and scientists alike had tried. There was no particular unicorn demographic it occurred in more often and many believed it to be a psychological disability, rather than a physical one.
And, as Gusty assumed, Graham had never met anypony afflicted with magic delay.
“That’s why you perform such menial work in Ponyville.”
It was the obvious conclusion, in Graham’s eyes. Why else would a Canterlot unicorn from an upper-class family want to live in a little country town like Ponyville without seizing a powerful position within the town’s government?
“That’s why I moved to Ponyville.” Gusty pushed back her chair, suddenly not the least bit hungry anymore, “To get away from ponies like you, who assume those kinds of things.”
Graham cocked his head, brows knit. “Whatever do you mean?” He queried, blinking. He was assuming nothing, as far as he was concerned. Clearly, Gusty wouldn’t have been able to find better work if her magic didn’t work in the proper way.
“I mean that it’s bucking disgusting the way you’re thinking I couldn’t do anything better with my life, just because you know I can’t use magic like everypony else.” She snapped, eyes flashing dangerously, “It makes me sick, the way all of you snooty unicorns think your way of life is the only way. So I can’t use magic to brush my teeth and shut the door and carry things. Earth ponies and pegasi have been managing just fine without using magic for every little thing for centuries and so can I.”
“But you’re a unicorn! You shouldn’t have to ‘manage.’ Your life should be so easy!” Graham sounded absolutely appalled that she would speak so casually of her limitations; that she accepted her disability as if It were nothing. “You are better than that, simply because you were born into the world of magic.”
Gusty glared at that, every muscle in her lithe body tensing, horn sparking dangerously. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself and stifle her anger; if she let her feelings towards Graham get the best of her, the kitchen and all Gingerbread and Cupcake’s hard work would be destroyed. “Do you think,” her voice was a harsh whisper, born of her anger, “that you’re better than your wife? She’s just a lowly earth pony, after all.”
Graham’s pupils constricted, mouth falling open, ears pinning back against his head. “How dare you even think such a thing?” He growled, eyes narrowing to slits, “I love my wife! She and my daughter are my world.”
“And yet…You still can’t help it, can you? You’re just like that. Unicorns are the best and I bet you thank Celestia every day that Lemon was born a unicorn.” Gusty sneered, not at all caring about the other pony’s feelings. Graham hadn’t given much regard to her feelings over the past few days, ignoring her and dismissing her whenever he was given the chance. He’d been passively rude to Gingerbread as well, which was inexcusable; it was one thing if he belittled Gusty herself for her lackluster and unambitious life, but to insult Gingerbread…Gusty wouldn’t stand for it. “I thank Celestia every day that Ponyville doesn’t have as many ignorant unicorns as Canterlot, because very few ponies in Ponyville think they’re better than anypony.”
The stallion’s face had gone from its usually warm brown to an angry shade of red as Gusty spoke. Steam practically billowed from his ears and his mouth was drawn in a thin line. He stared at the mare, eyes hard, horn lighting. “You think you’re so smart.” He whispered through clenched teeth, lowering his head to point his primed horn at the other unicorn. “I could show you just how ‘ignorant’ I am…”
Gusty’s eyes widened. She’d faced worse than a pompous jeweler in her time in Canterlot; the bullies at magic school were much more threatening. But they had never gone after her in a private setting; always in places where somepony else could intervene. They were cowards and Gusty had refused to let herself be intimidated, but Graham…He didn’t seem to care at all about propriety and manners; civility had long since flown from the room.
Then, as abruptly as if somepony had flipped a switch, Graham visibly calmed, the magical aura threatening to engulf him dissipating into nothing more than a few green sparkles. “Instead,” he sniffed, “I’ll act the gentlecolt and ask you to leave my kitchen. I’d rather not see you again for the rest of the night.”
Gusty didn’t need to be told twice.