The dense woods had petered out eventually, the trees growing gradually thinner and smaller until they found themselves traipsing across a wide, grassy plain. Scrubby bushes still formed small copses here and there, sheltered from the sharp wind by hollows and rocky outcrops. They’d been trekking for some hours and were now spread out into a long line. Twilight Sparkle had caught up with Riley in the column, and was occupying the time with stories.
“It was awful, at the time, but looking back I totally see why everypony thinks it was so funny,” Twilight was saying, a light blush on her cheeks. “I’d cast this spell to make the bear irresistible, and of all the ponies who could have ended up with it, who should get it but Big Macintosh. I can’t think of another pony who could have made it seem more inappropriate!”
Riley laughed lightly as she told him tales of her times in Ponyville. She’d certainly started feeling better once they’d left the peculiar village in the trees behind. She felt a lot happier now, they were on their way to Canterlot, afterall, and maybe making real progress toward sorting this mess out. The troubles in Ponyville were still very much at the forefront in her mind, but it was possible to supplant them, temporarily at least, with the more pleasant activity of making friends.
She racked her memory for other humorous events she could tell him, making him laugh had become something of a challenge, and she felt like she wanted to cheer him up. He always looked so morose and serious, and had taken to trailing along at the rear of the group since they had left the village in the woods. Since the trees had thinned out significantly Rainbow Dash had disappeared up into the sky once more, leaving her with one less friend to talk to, and Applejack seemed occupied with putting one hoof before the other.
“Ooh!” she exclaimed. “I should tell you about the Gala, two years ago. Now that was a barrel of fun, let me tell you…”
“Excuse me,” he said suddenly, giving her an apologetic smile. “I need to go talk to Matthias, up there at the front. There’s a… human thing… we have to talk about.”
“Oh,” she said, story interrupted. “I’ll wait here!” she called after him as he broke into a jog and disappeared up the column to the front where one of the marines was picking his way cautiously through the long grass. They had already had to pull someone out of a small sinkhole once.
“Yer actin’ mighty strange again, Twilight,” Applejack said. She had been behind them the whole time.
“Am I?” Twilight replied absentmindedly. “I’m just trying to make friends.”
“Ah’m not so sure he wants t’ be made a friend of, sugarcube,” she said gently.
Twilight’s face fell. “Why? What makes you say that?”
“Everytime you go near him he waits patiently for about five minutes, then gallops off. Then you follow him, an’ then he does it all over again.”
“Really?” Twilight’s smile drooped as she looked back up the column and saw Riley glance over his shoulder at them, almost nervously. Sudden realisation hit her like Pinkie’s party cannon. “Oh dear. I’m making a fool of myself, aren’t I?”
Applejack smiled in what Twilight imagined was meant to be a comforting manner, but it came across as more of a grimace. Her cheeks burned hotter.
They trotted in awkward silence for a few minutes more. Twilight took the time to contemplate her words carefully, aware that Applejack was waiting for an explanation of some sort. “I think I feel as if he’s just a tiny bit like I was, before the princess sent me to Ponyville to make friends. I don’t think he has any friends, Applejack, and I remember what that’s like.
“At the time you don’t really let it bother you: friends are just an inconvenience, things to get in the way, something other ponies can worry about. Sure, sometimes you see others together, laughing and being happy, and you feel a bit sad that you don’t have that too, but then you think of all the extra time you’ve got instead. All the more to study magic, in my case. And those feelings pass, remarkably quickly, in fact.
“But after I met you all, I realised just how lonely I had been. It was like I hadn’t been able to see colours all my life, I didn’t know what I was missing at the time, but once I’d seen them, wowee, the whole rainbow! Not just one little piece anymore.”
Applejack chewed on a long piece of grass thoughtfully before speaking. “Ah don’t think we can go second guessin’ how many friends he has or hasn’t got, Twi. That might just be how they look to us, miserable n’ all. Or, maybe, he has so many friends already, that he doesn’t feel like he can have anymore?”
Twilight snorted at the idea. “You can’t have too many friends, Applejack. That’s like saying you can have too much ice-cream.”
“Ah think Spike proved that one true, Twilight,” Applejack reminded her with a grin. “On several occasions, if ah remember rightly.”
“Well, maybe that was a poor analogy, then,” she admitted, trying to think of a new one.
“Twilight, please don’t treat this like a challenge,” Applejack said sagely. Twilight opened her mouth to protest, but her friend continued before she could speak. “Ah know what you’re like, sugarcube.”
Twilight grimaced guiltily. “I promise. But you have to admit, this is going to make one splendid Friendship Report for the princess! Maybe I should start composing it, I can deliver it in person when we get there, since we haven’t found Spike yet.”
The day wore on and they made moderate progress, despite many obstacles. The landscape was uneven and riddled with small streams and rivers. A few times they found their route blocked by small hills, and Riley ordered the group to half climb, half scramble up and down steep fields of boulders and crumbling crags. Applejack seemed to enjoy this activity greatly, hopping nimbly from foothold to foothold as though she had wings. The humans also seemed very adept at it, their long, powerful limbs giving them the strength and their highly dextrous fingers finding purchase in even the smallest of cracks. Twilight found herself watching them closely, and her mind wandered until she realised she was contemplating what it would feel like to be given a massage with those strange appendages.
She shook her head fiercely to clear the thought, it bordered on inappropriate and was making her face feel hot again. If somepony noticed and asked her why she blushing she would be hard pressed to think of an excuse, she was sure.
While they rested for a few minutes on top of a moderate peak Rainbow Dash burst down from the clouds to tell them excitedly that if she flew really high she could see the Canterhorn in the distance. It was distant and shrouded in cloud at the moment, but they were on the home run at last. That brought another welcome boost to Twilight’s spirits, which had become a little gloomy after Applejack had pointed out what was now blindingly obvious.
She had tried to chat to Riley a couple more times since, and while he acted perfectly friendly towards her she now couldn’t help but notice the slight reluctance to really return the conversation. For instance, she realised she still didn’t know much about his past at all, yet she had, to her growing embarrassment, probably managed to blabber the majority of hers since birth, and then some besides.
Her stomach felt tight, and her emotions seemed to go through a few cycles, the initial awkward embarrassment and shame had faded and given way to confusion, and now she found it was morphing into anger instead. She simmered inside gently – why was he doing it? She had done nothing but try to be nice to him, he had no reason to dislike her. It was unfair.
Or was she being unfair to him? After all, he was just trying to do his job, was she distracting him?
“Riley,” she said, making up her mind and trotting over to him purposefully. He turned to her, a pleasant smile on his face once more, but she couldn’t help but imagine the wheels turning behind those eyes, the grimace that he was undoubtedly hiding. “Can we talk?”
“Of course, Twilight. What’s on your mind?”
“Can we talk, in private?” she said, looking pointedly at the marine marching beside him. An unreadable look crossed his face.
“Twilight, none of the men can understand your language.”
“I know,” she said – by the Sun, why was he making this so awkward! “Please?”
“Whatever pleases you,” he said easily, slowing his pace to let the marine go on ahead. “Are you okay?”
She took a deep breath, not sure where to start. This suddenly felt like a mistake, but the train had left and she could hardly stop it now. She had started down this path, and she meant to continue. “No. Please, be honest with me. I feel like you don’t want me here. I want to know what I’ve done to… to upset you,” she said, looking at the grass as it whispered past her legs, the longest bits tickling at her belly. She studied it intently, now afraid to look up. Her heart felt very large in her chest, too big for the small space as it knocked against her ribs. The anger had gone full circle back to embarrassment, and she wished dearly that she had kept her mouth shut. She was definitely overreacting. Everything was fine, and she was just making herself look even more foolish.
“I don’t understand,” he said after some time. “I mean, you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m not upset with you at all. I’m sorry if you think that.”
She looked up at his face, certain she would see a lie there, but he looked as honest as he could be, even if he was a different species. He didn’t look at all like Spike did, for instance, after he’d eaten some gems he wasn’t supposed to have until his hatchingday celebrations. If anything he looked uncertain, and almost hurt. Had she been wrong?
Confusion.
“I’m trying to be a friend, but I feel like you seem… annoyed by me.” There, she’d said it. She swallowed the hot feeling in her throat and studied the grass once more. It really was very interesting, if one stopped to study it in detail, each blade so intricate in detail, tiny barbs just visible along the edges, delicate subtle striations shimmering in the sunlight…
There was a long pause again, and when she looked up at him he was looking up and away, gaze far in the distance. She thought for a moment he was simple going to ignore her.
“I am flattered,” he eventually said with a deep sigh, looking back down at her. “And I appreciate the effort, I really do.”
“But you just don’t like me?” she said, putting words in his mouth, and feeling wretched for it. Her chest felt tight again, a throbbing knot around her heart. And again there was an agonising silence that drew on and on and gave her far too much time to dwell on her own thoughts.
“I’m trying not to, no,” he said abruptly, rushing his speech clumsily, as if he had been afraid his words wouldn’t have all made it out if he had said them at the normal speed. Twilight missed a step and stumbled, feeling as though she had actually been kicked in the chest. “But you’re not making it easy for me,” he continued at a more normal pace, looking down at her with a sad smile on his face.
Twilight turned away from him, feeling her eyes mist up with a prickling sensation. She’d never known rejection like this, so measured and calm, and delivered so softly. “I don’t… understand,” she said, trying not to choke on her words.
“Please, Twilight, let it go. Don’t do this,” he pleaded. Was that hurt in his voice? He sounded extremely doubtful, as if he meant one thing but was forcing himself to say another. Twilight’s addled mind wondered if he was purposefully trying to hurt her, to see how far she could be pushed. A sharp, simmering anger mingled with the thick heartache, making an unpleasant and volatile cocktail. He was a scientist of sorts, after all, it stood to reason he would be researching her species, observing her. That thought only made it worse.
“Don’t do what, exactly?” she snapped, whipping her head back around. “Why are you like this? Why are you so… difficult!”
He sighed again, that terrible sad smile that was barely a smile at all, and abruptly she’d suffered as much as she was able. She ran, tears in her eyes and a terrible, wracking shortness of breath in her lungs. Part of her wished he would follow her, but then she knew he couldn’t run that fast. If he called out to her she didn’t hear him.
“Twilight!” came Rainbow Dash’s confused voice from high up, chasing after her.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said over her shoulder, not stopping for anything.
“You’re going the wrong way!”
“I don’t care!”
She ran and ran and ran until her legs burned and she could no longer see the others. She finally stopped and fell to her knees in the long grass, too tired to cry anymore. Even the running of the leaves hadn’t seemed so far. She sat, drowning in misery for what felt like an eternity before Rainbow Dash came down to land nearby, approaching her silently.
“Do you want me to beat him up a little bit?” she asked at last, and Twilight laughed brightly, the absurdity of the last couple of hours suddenly caught up with her. She, a well-respected, grown mare, was upset because an alien she had known for a few days didn’t want to be her friend. And now she was miles away from them, heading in the wrong direction.
Rainbow Dash started laughing as well, and before long they were both on their backs in the long grass, giggling at the shapes in the sky and anything else that came to mind. She didn’t need anymore friends, she had the best five she could ask for already.
Buck him, and the rest.
Rainbow eventually led her back to the group, who had stopped for an hour to eat and rest. Applejack was lying in the grass next to Riley, who looked morose. Applejack had her angry face on, the one she adopted when Applebloom had been up to something she had explicitly been told not to do.
Twilight swallowed nervously as they approached, dragging her hooves a little. Her earlier bravado had evaporated, and now she was feeling terminally embarrassed. She had let her emotions run away with her and completely overreacted, that much was clear. It seemed ridiculous now, even to her. She silently cursed the strange effect the humans seemed to be having on her as she sat down on the other side of the circle and pretended to close her eyes to rest. A suggestive cough made her open one eye a crack to find Applejack glaring at her.
‘Get over here,’ the expression seemed to say. She sighed and reluctantly climbed to her hooves, prowling over to the pair. She plonked down next to Applejack, away from Riley and snorted through her nose.
“You two are behavin’ like foals on hearts-and-hooves day. Work it out.”
“M’m sorry,” Twilight mumbled sullenly. “I went off on one a bit. Won’t happen again.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Riley said with a sigh, not looking at her. “I have been unfair to you.”
Applejack watched them both expectantly, and when no more was forthcoming she dialled her glare back up to eleven. “That was terrible. Perhaps y’all don’t want me an’ Rainbow listenin’ in, which is fair enough, so git yerselves over there, and don’t come back ‘til you’re talkin’ again. If we’ve got to suffer you two sulkin’ and mopin’ at one another for the next week ah don’t think ah can remain civil with either of you.”
She pointed an authoritarian hoof and Twilight’s face fell. This was the full works, no doubt about that.
“So…” she began as they walked a little way off, alone again. A gentle breeze stirred the long grasses around their legs, and small insects buzzed about their business. Riley stopped and knelt down so he was on her level.
“Twilight, firstly, I don’t dislike you. You’re… lovely. There’s no other word for it.”
“I’m glad,” she said, hesitantly. There was definitely a ‘but’ coming.
“By the next sunrise, I’ll be gone,” he said simply, shrugging. “I’ll be back among the stars, fighting to keep my own people safe. I don’t have many friends, none of us do. Do you know why?”
She stared at him blankly, there were several answers she could offer, but she suspected it was more of a rhetorical question.
“Because it’s not fair on them when we don’t come back. We’re soldiers. Every time we leave home there’s a strong chance we’ll either come back in a box, or not at all. My life doesn’t form a good basis for a friendship, of any kind. I don’t want the heartache of having to leave you all here, and I don’t want you to have that, either. We will never see one another again, Twilight. I think it would be better if we kept our distance. Perhaps I should have been more forthcoming with you from the start, so I apologise for that, but to me, this is obvious, I forget sometimes that others don’t see things the same way.”
The wind continued to whisper amongst the grasses, lost and forlorn, and Twilight frowned deeply. “There’s another saying we have here: ‘It’s better to have loved and lost’…”
“… than never to have loved at all,” he finished with a genuine smile. “It’s also a saying in my world.”
“Not to say I’m in love, or anything,” she hastened to add, suddenly aware of the heat in her face again. “You can replace that with ‘better to have had some friends and have lost said friends than to never have had any frien…’”
“This is what I mean, Twilight,” he said softly, interrupting her. He hesitated, and then she tensed as his hand briefly stroked the side of her face, and traitorous little shivers spread over her skin, her eyes closing of their own accord. “You’re adorable, and I’m struggling very hard to keep my distance from you.”
She basked in the moment, chest suddenly tight once more, but with joy this time. He took his hand away all too soon, and she opened her eyes again.
“Do you understand?”
“No,” she said, with a little smitten smile. “I don’t accept it, at any rate. It’s a silly reason to reject friendship. Time is immaterial. A little bit of honey is always better than none at all.”
He blew air out through his nose and set his lips in a thin line, leaning back from her. His expression hardened. “I will hurt you, Twilight, even if I don’t want or mean to. It’s what we do. I can’t be your friend.”
She remained unconvinced, her unwavering gaze holding him firmly. In her heart she could see herself, many years ago, alone without knowing it, lost in a world she didn’t know existed.
“Look, I don’t know what you see in me, I really don’t. I’m not a nice person, even by my own species’ standard. I travel the stars with a group of men, killing indiscriminately for a living. I even accept payment for it. You deserve better friends than me, Twilight Sparkle. Better than any of us. Do you not remember that night when we arrived? We killed. In the forest, mere hours ago, we killed again. We’re very good at it. We hurt things.”
“You were defending yourselves. And you were defending me. You care about us, I know you do.”
He ignored her. “We couldn’t stay here, even if we wanted to, we would corrupt you, change you for the worse. You’re lucky that we don’t know where we are, so when we leave we’ll never be able to find you again. Never be able to bring back the disease we spread from place to place.”
“You can change,” she said, shuffling on her hooves. “You would change. We would corrupt you. For the better, maybe.
“I understand why you fight so much, you’ve been brought up in a world that’s constantly at war, you’ve been trained from birth to be like this, and it’s all you can do to survive. But here, you don’t have to do any of that. You can rest and be at peace.” She gave him a quick grin, “at least, once we get the current mess sorted out.”
He sighed again and shook his head gently. Twilight’s rational mind finally gave in and let the ever-growing bit that dealt with friendships take over, and taking advantage of him being on her level for once she stepped forward and wrapped her hooves around his neck, resting her weight on his shoulders and pressing the side of her head to his before he could get away.
He tensed suddenly, and for a moment she thought he was going to stay like that, but then she felt his arms around her back, wriggling under her loosely folded wings, and he squeezed her gently, fingers very gently tickling that sensitive patch under her wings. “Friends,” she whispered in his ear. “For as long as you’re here, however short that may be.”
She could feel him shaking his head ever so slightly, and could imagine the resigned look he had on his face. Twilight suddenly knew that she’d won. A smug, satisfied smile tugged at her mouth.
‘Don’t treat this like a challenge,’ Applejack’s voice rang out in her head and she forced the smile back down guiltily. Rather reluctantly she released the human and sat back on her haunches to watch him.
“There, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
He laughed out loud, looking genuinely happy for the first time since she had met him. “I know I’m going to regret this, somehow,” he told her, and she stuck her tongue out at him.
“I have to write a letter about this!”