Necessary Love

by Zurock

Chapter 24: Attachment

Quite a lunch spread was laid out by the islanders, lined up on a long string of tables that had been hauled out and set against the main stage. It was an open-air buffet; a outdoors luncheon with selections not terribly exotic for the locale but thankfully diverse to fit everypony's tastes (including dragons and people.) The event wasn't meant for show or service and therefore no entertainment was provided, nor was seating assigned, nor were leading hosts present. There was only a tall stack of ready plates and the free invitation to dig in. Guest or islander, everypony grabbed a plate, food, and whatever company they wanted to enjoy, and then they all spaced out amongst the little round tables fixed into the boardwalk. The looseness of the occasion was pristinely perfect after the long and sunny morning on the beach.

Rainbow Dash swallowed a heavy scoop of regret and chose to sit with Pinkie Pie and Hulahoof at a table; sort of an implicit apology for having forcefully roped the pink pony into the volleyball game earlier. It didn't feel particularly awesome to have to endure a lunch flanked on both sides by party-crazy ponies, but for friendship's sake she had to be willing to take it. Yet hardly minutes into the experience she realized she had made such a boneheaded, happy mistake.

She LIKED spending time with Pinkie Pie. The pink pony was her dear friend and a real riot most of the time. Why Rainbow Dash had ever imagined lunch with her friend would have been terribly difficult just because some new guy was tagging along... well she didn't know anymore. Once she relaxed the lunch became nothing more or less than another hour of chilling with one of her best friends. Most of her time was spent listening to or laughing at the sillier ponies as they gabbed and giggled over things excitingly mundane or inedibly delicious. Sometimes there was puppet shows put on with the food.

Hulahoof wasn't actually an insufferable pony at his core. He was just another Pinkie Pie; a hyperactive friend for everypony. Best of all: he was engaging and fun, unlike SOME OTHER pony that Rainbow Dash could think of...

The pegasus glanced over her shoulder and across tables busy with lunching ponies, and far on the other side of the boardwalk sat Applejack. The farm pony was with Fluttershy, the two by themselves at a table. Unlike the animated meal exploding all over Rainbow Dash's table, those two simply chewed away in dead silence. They even seemed THANKFUL for each other's boring company. Geez.

Forget that dumb apple farmer.

Returning to the delightful antics of her table she was entirely unaware that watchful glances were also being taken of her.

Nosedive sighed before filling his mouth with another hoofful of food to slowly chew.

"Just give it a rest. You're trying too hard," Till told him.

The chocolate stallion sat across from his depressed friend. Their plates reflected the ponies' contrasts: Nosedive had little left, having already nearly finished his small and monotonous selection after packing it in one huge scoop at a time; Till had a plate spread over with almost excessively large portions but he ate only the smallest bites at a time, always in a very refined and mannerly fashion.

"Funny you should say. You haven't been trying at all," the pegasus' reply splashed out alongside a waterfall of crumbs. Every memory of Till's non-efforts to woo Applejack came to mind, which is to say practically nothing at all came up. Except... "Saw you out in the water while she was swimming. You say ANYTHING? INTRODUCE yourself?"

"Of course not." Casually the chocolate stallion took in another tiny bite of food.

"Of course not," Nosedive parroted, giving his eyes a swirl. "Then what were you doing out there?"

Easy as he pleased the other pony answered plainly, "Just taking a morning swim."

The pegasus leveled a hard stare at his friend, reinforcing it with a doubtful snort.

"Heh," the amused Till decided to expand his answer, "Alright, yeah. I was sticking close just in case a moment appeared. And one didn't. So instead I enjoyed the swim."

Still helpless and hopeless Nosedive pressed, "How do you know, 'one didn't?'"

Perhaps it was time to be serious. The chocolate stallion swallowed down the bits of food in his mouth, taking his mellow humor down with it, and he pushed aside his vastly unfinished plate along with the last of his snickering smile. Into and over the table he leaned, and he pointed a hoof.

"Dive: look," he directed his friend's attention to the table with Applejack and Fluttershy; more specifically highlighted the farm pony herself. "You see that silence? She's with A FRIEND and she wants nothing but a quiet meal. I'm not going to interrupt that. Now, she's been giving off that same solitude since she got here. I GUARENTEE YOU she did NOT go into the water to take a swim, but to get away from something or somepony. So it wouldn't have done me a lick of good to have paddled up to her and flapped my gums like I were an awkward school colt fishing for his first date."

Nosedive studied the two mares for a little bit, understanding the layout of his friend's logic but not at all feeling it in his gut. He sighed again.

"Not talking to her's really going to work, you think?" he moaned, bitterly suspect.

"On who? Mine or yours?"

The grumpy pegasus gave his head a weary shake.

"Either. Or both."

"Heh," Till's smile returned. He scooted his plate back before himself and resumed nibbling on his meal. "My patience will be rewarded," he said. "You'll see. I bet I won't even have to approach her. The right moment will come and then she'll approach me."

"Great," Nosedive accepted with bland enthusiasm. "And Rainbow Dash?"

At no point did the chocolate stallion stop pleasantly picking at his food like a professional, and he meanwhile gazed over at the busy table where Hulahoof and Pinkie Pie were juggling tomatoes between each other. Across his face mulled no deep thoughts or laborious calculations. He only chewed silently behind his closed mouth, and then some more, and then loaded up another small bite, and then chewed even more.

"Come on, Plotts," the pegasus had enough trusty confidence to bring forward a desperate plea, "help me out."

After another minute of unremarkable investigation Till returned his eyes to his friend.

"So... she's some kind of super athlete, flyer extraordinaire, right?" he asked particularly.

Nosedive snapped up, both eager and awed to answer, "Oh yeah. Several awards and records. Superb measurements on speed, control, maneuvering. Outstanding overall ability. Should've seen her play the game before; incredible."

"Well then," Till shrugged, "seems to me that your only trouble IS that you're crowding her. By all rights you probably should be doing great otherwise. I mean, listen to yourself. You GENUINELY ADMIRE her."

The other pony's face flushed, yet he only scantly protested with, "She's impressive."

"Ha, right."

Nosedive snorted, then asked, "And... your recommendation?"

"Back off and wait."

"REALLY?" the pegasus groaned. He jammed his hoof into his forehead, and then thrust it in some more for good measure. "I know that the stuff is magic and everything, but REALLY? Think it'll get her to just swoop into the embrace of a pony whose name she doesn't know? Do NOTHING?"

"No, not nothing."

With a displeased grunt Till again set aside his plate for serious matters. He reached across the table to pull away his friend's self-destructive hoof and then he physically directed the other pony's attention to Rainbow Dash.

"Look at her," he pointed. "Look at that smile; the attention she's showering onto her pink friend there. Now correct me if I'm wrong but, she's spent the whole time here so far hanging out with her friends, right? Didn't she bolt straight out of her room to meet with her friends last night?"

"The Princess's pupil came and got her," Nosedive reminded him.

"Same difference," the other stallion flatly continued. "You see, that's what she wants to do right now: hang out with her friends. You're just getting in the way, Dive. She didn't come all this way to meet new ponies."

He released his friend, falling back to his side of the table. Before he scooted his plate back to proper eating position he resolutely but supportively concluded, "My best advice? Back off, wait, and speak to her when she's ALONE. And I don't mean CORNER HER, no. Don't do that Sweet Nothing thing. Just, when she finally takes the time to get away from everypony and rest, that's your moment. Gently go up to her, give her some pleasantries, tell her just a little bit about what you think of her, and then leave. If she's taking the time to rest then you don't want to overstay your welcome and have her dismiss you. You just want to plant that seed. You can water it later."

Nosedive's eyes lingered on the astounding pegasus and the way she was so obviously and thoroughly engaged with Pinkie Pie; the way she would hoot at the impromptu show at her table; the way every splattered tomato was cause for a cackle of celebration; the way she so WANTED to be there. There, exactly where she was, and not off chitchatting with some Celestia-knows-who she had never met before. Heck, even Hulahoof had gotten more attention out of her just by closing in on his own chosen pony.

"Right, I'll try...," the glum pegasus huffed to his friend, lowering his head. He snaked another hoofful of food into his mouth.

"You know I wouldn't ever deliberately steer you wrong, Dive," Till said, honest and friendly. "I'm just a best friend doing what best friends do: saying what you need to hear."

"Right," the pegasus replied, hardly grateful but hardly dismissive. Again he sighed, but when he looked up his friend was flashing a true smile. A simple sight, but it made all of the oppressive weights pulling on the pegasus ease off just a little bit. A better face emerged from him, and he held a thankful hoof out over the table for Till to slap, which the other pony gladly did.

"Thanks pal," Nosedive said before twisting a teasing eye and quipping, "You don't strike me as a romancer Tilly, that's all."

"Romance? Haha!" the pony's large laugh actually interrupted his proper eating, and he took a moment to compose himself. "Did I try to romance you when we were passionate?" he asked in rhetorical amusement.

"Of course not," the pegasus shook his head as he grinned.

"Of course not, 'of course not,'" laughed Till.

"Venus really thinks you should've though. Probably wants that for Applejack."

"Bah," the chocolate stallion threw a hoof. "You know she's got this perfect image of this whole island in her head, and she tries so hard to make it exactly into what she's seeing. But it's just not like that."

A strange moment of quiet thought came over him, perfectly matching the poise of his pristine eating habits.

"It's actually about respect," he came back and said. "Respecting a pony enough to treat them right. And to, you know... want to make them feel genuinely happy."

---

"More, Miss Rarity?" Sweet Nothing asked in utter deference. Already he had dragged her empty plate over and scooted it onto his back, ready to whisk it away at her first whisper and retrieve a fresh bounty like a royal servant.

"Oh my," the lady answered tenderly. There were the makings of brutal warfare in her mind; artillery being traded between her impulse to indulge such queenly treatment and her wish to maintain her perfect figure. "I-I'm unsure. H-How much have I had already? A-Are there perhaps lower calorie choices on the buffet?"

"I can select an assortment of delectable treats that I know you'll love...," he said, dancing his voice with masterful control. He leveled himself besides her with sure command, and he bowed. Yet when he rose his eyes had been completely replaced with gems of worry. "... but of course I'm not fit to tell such a refined lady what to eat. I'll take right back anything you don't like."

Spike, resting the side of his face in his claw, quietly grumbled, "Give me a break."

That stallion jerk had been slavering over Rarity all morning like a hungry dragon atop a massive jewel pile. Every second of every minute of every hour it had been, 'Can I get you this, my beautiful lady?' or, 'Would you like that, my darling mare?' More shade? More sunscreen? HOOF RUBS? BACK RUBS?! Gargh! And his every act of sycophantic servitude had been done with the most sickening smile smeared across his stupid snout, like he was just the most modest sweetheart in all of Equestria and NOT the rude saddle-sack of filth who had knocked Spike down on the dock. The dragon would've barfed if his fiery bile wouldn't have ruined everypony's meal.

Maybe worse than the phony stallion's toadying was that Rarity had actually bought into everything he had done. It was SO OBVIOUS that he was insincere in his doting. Every maneuver of his had been forward and bold, sweeping in as the handsome rogue bound by no law. Yet as soon as she had said anything back to him he had shrunk into a little puppy, with a shy face that had struggled to look at her and a humble heart that suddenly hadn't been worthy enough to have kissed the sand her hooves had walked on. Come on, Rarity! He was just the resort eye candy hired to bend to a guest's every whim! Not like Spike himself who always bowed to her commands because-... because-... because he WANTED to.

Just thinking about it had the dragon rumbling another sour hum.

But a knock to his side bounced him out of his thoughts.

He looked over, searching for what had hit him, but Summer Wind still sat next to him pleasantly eating her lunch. She seemed unaware of any disturbances... until in secret she tapped him again, and this time he noticed the subtle movements of her eyes. They kept whipping suggestively between him and the plate that Sweet Nothing was about to steal away with.

"Uh... hey!" Spike spontaneously announced to the table, taking the cue to intervene. He leapt up onto the tabletop, dodged around his own meal, and nabbed the seamstress's plate right off of the dark stallion's half-turned back.

"You don't know what she likes," he insisted, and he held the plate up like a professional waiter while he jabbed his free claw at himself, "but I do. I'LL go get her some more food."

Sweet Nothing was very briefly appalled at the dragon's interference, but before anything too unsavory lunged out of him he simply faced the table again and pressed his tombstone glare in.

"That won't be necessary, SIR," he responded from underneath a cold smile. His jaw then quickly shot out and swiped the plate back, ripping it clean from the dragon's claw. "My job is to serve."

"Well take a break or something," Spike advised, hardly in a generous tone. Again claw snatched plate, yanking it out from between the pony's unprepared teeth.

The hard tink made him wince for just a flash of a second before he countered, stealing the plate back just as swiftly as he had lost it.

"No no, I INSIST."

"I'm a guest. Aren't you supposed to do what I tell you, too?" Again the plate swapped owners.

"I COULDN'T allow it!" Yoink.

"Serve somepony else!" Yoink.

It was finally getting to be too much for the quietly enraged stallion, but he never broke his facade. Instead the fire in his eyes suddenly washed over with an unexpected spritz of dignified water, and he only had to turn a partial glance towards Rarity while very loudly sighing out some resigned and sorrowful disappointment.

"SPIKE!" the offended unicorn intervened immediately. Her voice rocked the table, free of true anger but most definitely coming down with a hammer of matronly authority.

The dragon deflated like a balloon, every breath of fight and every ounce of posture speedily leaking from him. He angled his limp, fallen body towards his beloved pony and in crushed obedience took his verbal lashes.

"This WONDERFUL gentlecolt is simply doing his JOB, and quite finely at that! It is NOT mannerly of you in the least to behave with SUCH DISREGARD for his duties, not to mention how HIGHLY unlike you it is! RETURN the plate to him THIS INSTANT!"

Quiet and meek as a mouse he drifted his arm over to Sweet Nothing, surrendering the plate.

"... Sorry, Rarity...," he mumbled straight from his broken heart.

"Don't apologize to ME!" she emphasized before pointing at the dark stallion.

The added humiliation pumped the grievous pain from Spike's gut up to his face, and it didn't help at all to be confronted by the subtle sneer of victory which was hidden on Sweet Nothing's mug. But as instructed the dragon apologized, giving an unremarkable bow of his head and an unhappy, "Sorry."

"No harm done, sir," the pony answered, wrapped in plastic candor. "I'm in awe of the lady's ability to so easily pick such faithful friends. My, certainly she is charming!" His extra bright smile was hardly directed at the dragon whose apology he was accepting. Indeed, without pause he followed up with Rarity, "I won't keep you waiting for long, my charming lady. Even without a duty to fulfill it would be impossible to stay away from you."

Her face flushed red, and the seamstress nervously fluttered her eyes and rubbed her cheek all while twittering, "Ahaha, my, yes, mmm, the lady awaits! Hehehe."

After a step back, a refined bow, and a blink of a dirty glance at Summer Wind, Sweet Nothing departed for the buffet table with the plate in tow.

Rarity's indulgent eyes gave a long chase before the stallion's magnetic grasp was finally weak enough to release her. Immediately she returned to chastising the dragon, though every swathe of sternness had now been replaced with boggled concern.

"What has gotten into you this morning, Spike? First you slip away without a word, taking my bag with you, just to squeeze in some small talk that couldn't have waited five minutes. And now you've demonstrated such terribly rude insistence on showing up an innocent pony at his own job! What's next? These selfish little shows are very unbecoming of your usually-wholesome character, and what's more, you know you've already learned better than to indulge your greedy side. Is there something we need to discuss, hm?"

The dragon's shoulders stayed slumped throughout the whole awful ordeal, sinking more and more as she kept punching holes in him. When she finished her reprimand he tweaked his lowered head enough to take a short, distant glance at the dark pony who had triggered his ire, and then he also spared a look at Summer Wind who had encouraged him to act. But he elected to make no excuses of them to Rarity at all. He only shook his head for her and started to waddle back towards his seat.

Not uncaring, Rarity fast turned her mood around at the sight of his pitiable walk of shame. She pulled back and clicked her tongue, offering motherly consolation, "Oh, do dry those tears and primp that smile, Spikey-Wikey! This is a vacation! You should be enjoying the amenities, not fetching somepony's food!"

"I could... find you some gems, if you'd like," Summer Wind spoke up. The apologetic offer poured readily from her mouth, itself hanging from her guilt-ridden face. "I know we keep some around here somewhere..."

"No thanks... I'm not very hungry...," the dragon dismissed in a polite, quiet, tired sort of way.

When he reached the edge of the table he held himself back from hopping into his seat. A moment of impromptu melancholy had him. Just five minutes alone was really all he needed.

He turned to Summer Wind and asked, "... Maybe just directions to the bathroom though?"

Immediately she understood his true want, and kindly she pointed him the right way with some swiftly given directions to the bathroom behind the stage. Down he jumped from the table, and away he shambled with a crooked bend in his back.

Rarity hardly watched him go. Lifting herself to sit up straighter she sighed and shook her head.

"He's such an exemplary little dear most of the time. Usually he can handle his gallantry with more aplomb."

She spoke low, yet she was not at all concerned enough to have hidden the remark altogether. Really, it had been honest praise.

"Well, I'm sure he had the right reasons," hinted Summer Wind. Her intent she disguised with a mask of interest in her own plate of food.

"Oh most undoubtedly so," Rarity agreed. Since she naturally considered herself far more knowledgeable in all-things-Spike she openly shared her immense wisdom, "But though his heart is always in the right place his head can lag behind in a field of mistakes. Of course, he more than makes up for it in so many ways. One simply has to get used to counting only his efforts whenever his intentions fall short, and then the gentlecolt he is shines through clearly."

The pegasus nodded along, studying the answer until her turn came.

"Yeah." Fortunately there was no need to tell any outright deceptions, and that left it easy for Summer Wind to guide the conversation exactly where she wanted it to go. "His personality caught me a little off guard. He's got a few more years in him than his size lets on. At least, when he's not being adorable and silly."

"Isn't it the truth!" the seamstress belted out accompanied by a ladylike chuckle. Visibly any small guards she had remaining lowered. "My, the stories I could tell you!"

"Stories, huh? I guess you've kept him around for a long while?" Summer Wind conjectured carefully.

"As long as I've known Twilight. Though 'kept' isn't the choice word. It implies all the wrong things."

The pegasus gave her head a captive twist and asked, "What would be the choice word then?"

Curling her lip in hesitation at first, Rarity quickly let go of restraint and asserted, "I'm uncertain, but what I do know is that I couldn't CHOOSE to retain or discard my Spikey-Wikey! No. Regardless of anything I might wish, he'd of his own will always find some way back to my side, like a cameriere devoted beyond any sense of duty to serve or desire for reward. And that's not so bad, if I do say so myself."

"You really care about that little dragon, huh?" the other pony chuckled, hiding relief.

Simple truth crushed all doubt as she answered, "Oh, I cherish him, dear. Faults and all."

"Right then..."

Summer Wind dared to press her luck. Yet, whatever her intentions, refined grace failed to find its way into her words. They emerged spotty and cagey.

"... Are you and Spike...?"

Rarity twisted her eyes towards the other pony, one little step at a time. If she had any guesses which filled in the unspoken details then she had chosen to be oblivious to them.

"Uh, I mean, not my business I know. Just curious. But...," the pegasus rambled on, bouncing from word to wary word. She decided to try again, thought once more her powerful need to discover the truth didn't grant her any finer elocution. "Is there, you know, uh... anything there... between... the both of you...?"

Again no answer was forthcoming from the seamstress. But the movement of the conversation had an effect on her entire body. Everything, from head and neck to shoulders and legs, seemed to turn askew, unable to hold straight. A defensive urge pushed her to fill the silent space with something—anything—that might stop the stranger from delving further.

"My, what a fanciful thing to suggest, aheh...," she began, then stopped, then started again, "... There's certainly a very strong friendship; that is beyond question. And I must say, for a dragon Spike is most unusually a very friendly fellow. He's little in the way of brigandry; you won't find him intimidating or swindling others for his own gain. No, quite the opposite. When something's wrong or even if he just thinks something is, he's often the first to lend a claw. I think one of his most natural instincts is to help others. And – lady that I am – I do appreciate seeing such generosity in a pony..."

The longer she spoke the more she seemed to go off track; or rather, the more her track seemed to comfortably loop back to Spike's worthy, endearing qualities. She peered up from her spoken thoughts to see that Summer Wind was still attentive but showing no indication of offering any comments of her own. Suddenly changing the subject would have been far too unladylike a maneuver, so there was no choice but to harden up and push on through. The unicorn eased her resistance and let her rampant thoughts pour out, trying to drain the bucket without specifically labeling the contents.

"... And is there ever a lot to be said about how much effort he puts into being a little helper. You don't find many ponies who take such an interest in fashion solely for the sake of another. Why, I may have taught him more about my trade than I ever have to my own sister, and to my recall never has he complained about it."

Another glance up. More silence. So, more poorly filtered thoughts.

"What else can I say, dear? He's charming when he means to be (and sometimes even when he doesn't), and he's oh so unrelentingly faithful; more than he has to be, if I'm being honest. I can always count on having him around to lend a claw. Certainly I see the same faithfulness in any of my most wonderful friendships, but with Spike... If there's ever any dire thing which must be faced – absolutely anything; great or small, happy or sad, important or insignificant – well then, he has a certain... dependable companionship in him to make the experience easier. I couldn't really imagine a moment of my life that wouldn't somehow be improved by having him near..."

Her voice trailed off. So many times had the trail gone round and round in her head – so much had she gotten caught up in her own twisted web of true excuses – that she had completely lost her place. The next remark to come out of her, a spontaneous objection, peeped up so inconsequently.

"... He's quite young. And he's not at all... what I imagined... in my..."

Coughing, the lady Rarity came back.

"Dragon," she abruptly concluded. Then, repeating for emphasis, "In my dragon-, a dragon! In a dragon."

Summer Wind with great relief shrugged, "That still sounds pretty good for such a young guy."

"It is...," the other pony agreed, briefly lapsing back into a stupor. When her concentration again awakened her she had become so misplaced that she looked down and was surprised to find her plate missing. Her memory caught up to her bit by bit, and she wobbled about in her seat as sparkles of red danced lightly on her cheeks, born from both her fading imagination and the realization of her mealtime faux pas.

"I'm sorry. What were we talking about?"

"Spike."

"Ah. What about him?"

"How he's one of those wonderful ponies who defy all your expectations."

"There's no untruth in that," Rarity was able to unequivocally concur.

So the matter was safe and settled, Summer Wind hoped. But a pit in her stomach opened up, gnawing on her hungrily. The mission was to show the Princess's pupil and all of her friends the secrets of the island's magic; to induct them into the truly astounding, breathtaking, nigh-indescribable experience which the island made possible. But as Venus's and Vesuvius' own relationship showed, and as they also personally attested to, the ecstasy of the heart shined just as gloriously as the ecstasy of the body. And of those two glorious things the pegasus knew VERY WELL that the handicapped Sweet Nothing could only provide one.

... The islanders had prepared for their guests based on the notes written by the Princess's pupil, and the notes hadn't mentioned anything of existing romantic relationships. As such, the islanders had merely assumed that they should-...

... But... if Rarity and Spike-... Then maybe-... Maybe she could spare Rarity...

"Well...," the pegasus began to speak, bleeding away her calm despite her best efforts, "... just keep all that stuff you said about Spike in mind... you know, as you're enjoying your vacation here and everything... The beauty of this island is the special, new kind of togetherness it can bring to ponies everywhere, but... I don't know if..." The next words eluded her every attempt to speak them.

"... 'Don't know if' what, dear?" Rarity eventually prompted her.

She shuffled through a unbalanced tango of mumbles, "If-... I mean, Sweet Nothing isn't-... And Spike might-... that is, uh, if-... Though, he is young... and..."

The seamstress peeled her eyes wider and wider with confusion, but no matter how wide she opened them she couldn't see the pegasus' reasons any better.

"Just...," Summer Wind really strained herself to conclude with a coherent finish, "... just... remember that this is a short vacation, but your friends are with you for your long life. Right?"

Muddled, almost to the point of hiding it behind a cloak of indifference, Rarity eventually answered, "... Yes. Quite right."

The pegasus snuck out an invisible sigh before she sunk her face down towards her unfinished food.

This place was paradise. Or it was supposed to be anyway. In her heart she BELIEVED it could be. It could fulfill those needs of hers that she had never known were there until she had felt it for the first time. But she didn't wish anypony the same trouble she had been through so far in chasing it.

She took a melancholy bite of her cold food, picking up a tiny portion and nibbling on it listlessly. Yet her gray chewing fast came to an incomplete finish, the pint-sized wad falling out of her stalled mouth. Something starkly different had snared her eyes and immediately recolored her thoughts.

A short way off from the boardwalk and stage was Humble Herd. A heavy sack was slung over him, hanging on his side, and inside of it were more sacks, almost numberless and each one small but bloated with a specific seed or snack for many different types of critters. The stallion had his whole head crammed into one of the bushes which composed part of the green wall on that side of the beach, running from boardwalk to the long dock trail. His appearance wasn't quite the most perfect impression of an ostrich, though Summer Wind was certain that he was hiding from SOMETHING.

"Excuse me, please," she rapidly offered Rarity. The other pony, boggled, never even had the time to respond before the pegasus broke from the table.

With her wings the pegasus glided over wood and then sand, away from the mellow luncheon and towards the broad line of bushes. Her swift floating brought her up behind the headless pony without so much as a single spoiling sound, though that hadn't been a particular intention of hers. The swish of her hoofs gently kissing the sandy dirt coincided with her friendly, plain, and cautious greeting.

"Hey Humble Herd."

His leaping neck ripped branches out as it came, and his fumbling turnabout thrust his butt back, pounding on the bush while crunching branch and leaves. The whole shrub snarled in surprised anger as the concealed residents within let out chirps and screeches. Fortunately the stallion was quick to pull himself out, recognizing his mistake as swiftly as he recognized his assailant.

"Oh. Summer Wind," he sighed, wriggling his elastic tension out through every limb and breath. "Good morning-, er, aft-afternoon? Uh. What time is it?"

"Afternoon, barely," she got the answer out of the way with immediate but respectful frustration. "It's lunch."

"R-Right. So it is," he frowned a smile. "I mean, we did all, uh, leave the beach especially to have lunch, right? So, t-that makes sense."

"Yes." She was bored. And serious. "So... you're just... skipping it, apparently?"

Humble Herd pinched his body together tight, shuffling his hooves in a constant, tiny dance while he otherwise dodged her eyes.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbled. "I t-thought that I'd get started on my rounds early today, m-maybe. Just-... just do an extra thorough check on everyone." He waggled his hoof at the bush he had recently been buried in. "This one's fine!" he unconvincingly asserted before his eyes registered the damage he had dealt. Fast he pressed his face halfway back through the leaves, injecting apologetic whispers into bush, "I'm s-sorry guys! That was m-my fault! Sorry! I-I'm so sorry!"

Summer Wind shimmied around him so that she could grab his attention, succeeding enough that he extracted himself to look at her directly.

"Really, though? Like, right now?" she asked him, poking him with her obvious and intimate knowledge of his habits and fears.

"Ah, y-yeah," the shaky stallion's crumbling defenses carried on. "I mean, the bell moths begin their m-mating season this evening, and I know Venus and V-Vesuvius want me around for that. L-Like to answer q-questions, when we s-show the g-guests. So I thought m-maybe I should-"

"You normally get your rounds down later in the afternoon and are finished way before evening. You don't need extra time." Though she was using plain reality to flatly shut him down she took much care to be as friendly about it as possible.

"W-W-Well, if a-anything serious were to c-come up, you k-know, then I w-would-"

"Humble Herd."

Her strong call of his name was no chastisement. It was demanding in some way, but wrapped soft. Corrective, forgiving, full of love; it floated over to him. Sliding alongside the agitated pony she angled herself parallel and cast one of her great wings around him. It hugged their bodies together, and faintly against his neck and cheek she shook her head with amused disappointment.

"Humble-Humble-Humble-Humble Humble Herd," she addressed him. Her wing's grip on him secure, she easily turned them both to face the stage and tables, and she pointed a hoof specifically at the table where Fluttershy sat silent with her farm pony friend.

"Have lunch with her!" Summer Wind both ordered and advised the nervous pony in a single statement, delivered happy and desperate in a way that only a dear friend could do.

The stallion's long and shrunken gaze watched the dainty pony eating quietly at her table. And his eyes sank. And more he watched her, losing focus. And his head dipped, sinking his eyes further.

"Egh... No...," he redecided. "I don't think-"

"You gotta do something!" the orange pegasus pleaded. She tightened her tender hold on him and through her wing gave a soft shake.

"Yeah, I should...," he acknowledged guilty as charged, muttering without energy or hesitation. "... But she's not interested in some meager pony like me."

This time Summer Wind rattled him a little more sternly, though she still spoke with wholehearted devotion.

"Come on, that's nonsense. You're a GREAT pony."

"Not many ponies think so..." His whisper itself diminished into a whisper.

"I think so," she thrust her answer into him with all the care and precision of a doctor's needle, and again she firmed up her wing-hug. Then her breath turned hot and she hissed in command, "Just ignore anything nasty that ponies like Sweet Nothing tell you. What does he know?"

Humble Herd tried to pick up his head, but the feeble will powering his muscles couldn't raise it more than an inch.

"I... kind of meant it literally, though," he pointed out. "I've never met many ponies who have said that I'm-"

"No, Humble Herd, no." She was almost reduced to begging, earnestly injured by how he talked about himself. "You're wrong."

For a moment he held stiff without a word, still unable to raise his head. At last he responded with crippled acceptance, "Yeah..."

Yeah. That's exactly what he was: a wrong pony.

But that continued weakness lurking in him couldn't hide from Summer Wind; not at all. Every little dent in him she desired to smooth out. Every little wound she wanted to dress. Every last tiny ache she longed to soothe. To be an exact mirror to him, and what he had always tried to do for her.

Letting go of him she stepped about to face him head on, and with a wing she lifted his chin.

"Aw, come on," she pleaded, hurt but true. "I admit... it does take some time to get past this shadow of a pony that you SEEM to be on the outside. But that pony INSIDE... Humble Herd, you're so special, and sweet, and soft, and caring, and honest... and everything good like that. If other ponies don't take the time to see it then that's their loss. Please believe me when I say that."

"Summer Wind... I-"

Her one wing nudged his wobbling chin to interrupt him, but her other wing came out and ran a calming stroke across his neck.

"Even with the incredible things that this island makes possible," she said, drawing her face in and locking tightly with his eyes, "I'm so glad that I came here just because it has meant that I got to make friends with you. That was worth it by itself."

She breathed soft, and her final words came to her with great, recent familiarity.

"You're a wonderful pony who-... who's really defied all my expectations."

Her unending, sincere praise was just the gift to finally draw a weak smile out of Humble Herd.

But as her wings let go of him his face drooped into a bit of a frown once more, contorted by relentless remorse. Her mention of 'incredible things' on the island quite specifically tortured him. In his mind came back all the upsetting memories of the island's awful magic.

"Summer Wind... I'm really sorry about-... uh, when we-"

He twisted his head back and forth, feeling wrong all over again.

"... I'm sorry that I... you know... that I was so terrible. That I was-... was no good for you."

For all of the faithful encouragement she had poured over him, for all of the positive reinforcement, for all of the undaunted praise... he had in one wimpy and saddened line managed to cut the legs right out from under her efforts. He had brought out the one bad thought that truly defeated her.

As she took a step back her head crumbled identically to his. Her wings folded up, limp, and she barely managed to reply, "N-No... don't-... That-... We BOTH weren't what the other needed... and... we have to accept that and move on. So f-forget it, o-okay?"

Humble Herd sighed, "But I'm not going to be what Fluttershy needs either."

"You don't know that," Summer Wind's strength made a fragile return. The further they ran from their shared terrible memory the more she recovered. "You've barely tried so far."

"I won't be. I mean, before, she didn't even want to look at me," the stallion moaned in resignation. "She didn't really even want anything to do with me..."

"Because she's nervous." The mare came around to the stallion's side again and tried gently to nudge him forward. "She'll be less nervous if you break the ice. Go on. Ask if you can sit with her for lunch."

But rarely could one ask a cat to voluntarily swim.

"Oh, I couldn't! Her friend is there and everything! It'd be so silent and awkward, and they'd stare, and... she really wouldn't want me there anyw-"

"Okay, okay," the pegasus patted her friend tenderly. Placing her cheek right next to his she whispered in quiet, clever comfort, "Then how about this: invite her to do your rounds with you. She takes care of animals, right? It'll keep you both too busy to be nervous, it'll break the ice, AND best of all you'll have the company of all your little friends the whole time. You'll never be strictly alone with her."

Humble Herd looked from orange pegasus to yellow, back and forth for several hoof-biting moments.

"I... d-don't really know... I m-mean... m-maybe?"

"Hey, come on lady-killer," Summer Wind tickled his rib with her knee. "You don't lose anything by asking her. We didn't volunteer like some of the others, but Venus and Vesuvius wouldn't have picked you at all if they didn't have faith in you. And me too. You can do it."

"I-... I-..." He went for another surrendering sigh, but he managed to swallow it before it could run out waving a flag of defeat. "Okay...," the pony relented, putting his broken best into shoring himself up.

Up and down his hooves pumped in place, shifting centimeter by centimeter as if there was always some superior, more gentlepony-like stance eluding him. The bag of bags hanging from his shoulder he pulled up so that it might sit on his slouchy body with a more professional look, though every time he did so it kept sliding back down to a naturally slack position only moments later. His shy tail made a bold effort to get just a few hairs out from between his hind legs. And every second which passed was another spent trying to not wheeze so recklessly through his chattering teeth. At last he had a big enough puddle of bravery stored to claw a single hoof forward.

But before he got any farther Summer Wind's large wing found its way around him again, drawing her into a fast hug. She landed a sincere kiss on his already blood-rich cheek.

"Go get her, tiger," she told him, quiet with fun and infallible with faith.

Her wing freed him, and he freed a happy but mousy smile for her.

It only took him an extra moment to reaffix his courage and then he was off again, albeit of course slowly. Naturally the closer he got to the boardwalk the more the location magnetically repelled him. Forward became skewed, each step going slightly astray as he leaned into his off-center walk, battling the intangible hurricane driving him back. He orbited Fluttershy's table at a distance, like debris tumbling towards a planet but forever missing.

Eventually he had little choice but to creep nearer. If he had kept his awkward amble of avoidance going then he would have bumped right into the stage. Finally he pushed directly towards the table, but his already glacial pace ebbed even more. At every hesitant step he had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could continue, and his head was so tucked into his body he might as well have been a turtle.

He eventually hit a point wherein he could bring himself to take no more steps closer. Every time his hoof cracked off the ground to limp just one more pace nearer he felt himself teeter on the end of a helpless panic. Trying to push another leg forward drilled an uncontrollable sense of danger into his bones.

Fortunately he had gotten to within striking distant. Or... technically so; not too far to hold a conversation, but far enough to have made it a strange case of lobbing loud words at a pony he was supposed to casually speak to. It would have helped him to have stood a half dozen steps closer, if only he could have. Even still he was leaning back, unable to put his face fully forward, and his hooves were turned aside, ready to pop away if an ill word was spoken or even if a baby tomato rolled off a plate too suddenly.

After one last breath that puttered out like a gasp he opened his mouth to greet the mares, but that was about as far as he got. A barren wind carried no sound out of him.

Fluttershy had noticed him only belatedly, very shortly before he had halted. At first she had kept her quiet posture straight, polite enough to have allowed him the time, space, and chance to speak his piece; the same chance which anypony deserved. Inside she had even prayed for this to have been a normal encounter, one which was everyday enough for her to endure. But it took her no time at all to spot the way that he held himself away from her, the way that he seemed ready to depart at a moment's notice, the way that he apparently considered her not even worth greeting... Her mane became her pink shield again as she lowered her face.

Sloshing, rolling, and crushing the fine paste that had been her latest bite of grub, Applejack had curious eyes on the nervous stallion while she chewed away. The mild mouthful lasted long past the appropriate swallowing point but the farm pony, subtly baffled as she was, couldn't pull her attention away from the ridiculous sight of the mouse-in-a-pony's-body having a freakout over approaching the oh-so-threatening Fluttershy. She just stared and chewed. And chewed. And chewed. And stared. And chewed. Slower. Slower. And slower.

And then one last time she wound her jaw, pulling it apart and wheeling it back up like the slow sun marching its whole day across the sky. She finally swallowed.

"Uh...," quite remarkably she was the first pony to shatter the titanic silence, "... something I can do for you?"

For Applejack to have spoken first, or really for her to have even spoken at all, struck at the heart of the stallion's fear. Scarcely his quaking hoof rumbled through the air to maybe-sorta point just a little at the shy pegasus, and his shivering mouth wobbled up and down as it barely squeezed out a nearly senseless sounding call of, "F-F-Flut-t-ters-shy..."

"Uh huh...," the farm pony acknowledged in the most calmly flabbergasted drone of a reply. A few times she glanced between the two ponies hiding from each other, but eventually her eyes shrugged and she leaned around the table towards Fluttershy. "It's for you," she lazily informed her friend.

"Oh... Thank you..." The other pony's tiny puff of breath wouldn't have fanned even the feeblest gust of air.

To start she only twisted her hidden eyes towards Humble Herd, leaving him obscured by her pink waterfall mane. She spoke, but only in microscopic words which she directed inwards, the whispers of reinforcement bouncing off her hair and back to herself.

It was going to be alright. Slowly the moisture in her mouth evaporated. A pleasant 'hello,' and no more certainly. Every ball of sweat pooling into the cracks and corners of her body left a tingling itch. This was going to be an everyday 'how's your lunch,' 'fine, thanks.' That's all. The fresh fullness in her belly started to riot. She had kindly greeted all different kinds of nice pony strangers many times before, and this wasn't any different. She could do this. Ice was consuming her spine, and its every frozen tendril spread out over her wings one feather at a time.

Whatever strange and uncomfortable attraction she had thought was possessing him had to surely have been some product of her faulty imagination; some mistake on her part.

At last the gentle pegasus creaked her head through a tiny turn and tender tilt, letting her mane fall to the side and revealing the stallion.

"Um. Hello," she greeted like a timid rabbit.

Again the rusty gears of his jaws ground themselves silently for several moments before some small peeps of sound managed to escape from the back of his throat.

"H-H-He-Hell-lo, Fl-Fl-Flut-Flutter-ter-sh-sh-sh-sh—" Gulp. "—You. Hi. A-Again."

Applejack had to turn away. Her hat she curved down to shield herself from the scene. Hoo boy.

His fragmented, lackluster response hadn't done Fluttershy any good. He was in far, far worse shape than he had been even only yesterday, and his sharp descent immediately reflected upon her as well. It was a significant battle for her to give him even half her face.

Humble Herd for his part struggled equally. The worse blow came from the mare's obviously extreme boredom with having to put up with him AGAIN.

"Y-Y-Your l-lunch...," his monstrosity of a sentence clawed its way out of him in grotesque slowness, rising with the same vicious slurping, broken moaning, and flailing shambling of the thrice undead, "... is... g-g-good."

His senseless statement confused poor Fluttershy. An anxious blush flamed further across her muzzle as she looked down at her mostly-finished plate of food. All that was left were ant-sized crumbs; apparently enough to have enticed the unusual pony?

"Um... thank you?" she said back to him.

"Oh! Uh," he gasped, aware now that in his chaotic mess of nerves he had failed to peak his voice like a question. He flew into a desperate fit, fumbling to fix his error despite the lateness and really despite its irrelevance to his intended conversation, "I-I-I m-m-mean, is-s y-your lunch g-g-good?"

"Oh. Yes. It is."

She glanced again at her nearly empty plate, the lack of a lunch on it being stupidly obvious in hindsight. The embarrassment already splashing about in her body flooded her more, and her hapless mouth raced to correct her own simple, diminutive, nearly unnoticeable error.

"I-It WAS. Thank you."

But the minor slip-up had done its damage. Her already ramshackle confidence had been wounded so badly that just a mere response to his direct question suddenly felt woefully and shamefully incomplete. Her nervous eyes scrambled about, seeking ANYTHING she might use to vomit more words. Quickly she spied his bag filled with what plainly wasn't pony-grade food, but in her frantic rush she too-hastily turned the question on him, "I-Is yours?"

He caught her glimpsing his bag, and therefore he also caught her mistake. But rather than laugh, or yell, or politely set her straight, he dipped his body in shame, convinced that her error was rooted entirely in his own.

"N-N-N-No, t-th-this isn't my l-l-lun-... I-I'm n-n-not-... I, I, I-... I'm s-s-sorry t-that y-you-..."

While he only continued to spill buckets of unfinished sentences Fluttershy was completely enslaved by her own silent anxiety. All she could do was scrutinize him with one half-turned eye while her cowardice thrashed her, but it was then that she finally caught notice of what exactly his cargo really was.

Everything changed. Warm life pumped out of her heart and through her arteries, melting away frosty frigidness and pushing her up in her seat. Her pink locks pulled themselves fully aside. The drawing of the curtain rapidly drained away the lingering shadows of fear while revealing to her a world so much brighter and busier; one alive with wonderfully furry, scaly, feathery, happy faces that she was far less afraid to confront.

"Are you going to be feeding some animals?" she wondered, scantly aware anymore of the nervousness that had just been binding her seconds ago.

The spark in her surprised Humble Herd, though more deeply than anything he was frightened by its spontaneous appearance. Something MUST have been wrong.

"Y-Y-Y-Ye-Ye-Y-Y-Ye-Y-Ye—" Again he gulped, loudly. "—No."

There was no quicker dagger that could've plunged into Fluttershy's budding hope, and she crumpled back into a meek form.

"I m-mean, t-the a-a-anim-mals don't N-NEED my h-help g-getting fed," the stallion franticly tried to clarify his answer. "T-They do a l-lot to take care of t-themselves. M-Many h-have used the i-i-island as a h-h-home long bef-fore us, and this pl-place was e-empty of ponies for s-so l-l-long that a-a-actually m-many of th-th-them are n-not so c-com-com-comfort-table with us b-b-being a-ar-round. I j-just make s-sure that they're h-happy and s-s-settled, and w-we're not h-hurting them in a-any w-way." Squirming as he squawked, he tried to straighten the way his bag was hanging but of course it just slid back down into a slack, untidy position again after only a fleeting moment of holding tight. "T-This f-food is ext-tra, in c-case they n-need it, or I n-need to e-encourage them, o-or anyt-thing."

"Oh," the shy pegasus realized. The sensible if shakily-given explanation was enough to raise her up once again, though more carefully than before. Now the drips of enthusiasm came in the small splashes of a leaking spout. She asked him, mustering just enough mirthful curiosity to do so, "So, you're like a wildlife warden for the island's animals?"

Humble Herd's empty, wordless mouth took the shape of a 'yes,' but it was his nodding head which got his answer across more clearly.

"Well," Fluttershy pressed with all the softness of freshly laundered linen, "what sort of kind, sweet, cuddly animals are on this island?"

"M-M-Mostly mi-g-gratory avian s-s-species, and in-insects."

"Really?" In some ways unexpected. But intriguing.

He sweated through expanding his response, "Ah, w-well, of c-course t-there are many oth-thers, b-but those t-two are the largest g-groups by f-far. Th-The more n-n-native anim-mals w-who aren't b-bugs a-are l-less n-numerous and a b-bit more re-re-reclus-sive."

"So... I guess the animals here are more feathery and crawly than they are cuddly." The pegasus' remark echoed faintly with wit, and she shared it while bearing what was definitively a tiny, tiny smile.

And as Humble Herd glimpsed the teeny grin he held his terrified breath. But no sudden reversal came over her face. No painful plot twist flipped her into being angry or upset, nor did ANY awful reality follow her simple look of kindness. His mouth opened and the imprisoned air which came out flowed only as a regular, peaceful exhale.

"They're...," he spoke for once at honest ease, even to his own surprise, "... all still sort of cuddly. I mean, if you ask me."

Plainly Fluttershy enjoyed his comment, illuminating gently like the slow-brightening gleam of the sun when clouds drifted on.

Every muscle in the stallion's body tightened at once, and he wobbled on his stiff legs trying to look tall. This was the moment. There wasn't going to be a better chance. He summoned up every last fiber of his flimsy nerves.

"So, uh... if-... if you wanted to, ah..."

A fresh rain of sweat came showering out of his forehead to fight off the embarrassed fire which flared across his face.

"... maybe, you know... if... you wanted to-... to... meet some of the animals..."

Fluttershy raised and planted a hoof on the table, using it to draw herself in closer to him as she listened so intently to his increasingly shrinking voice.

"... I mean, if you-... if you do want to, then-... t-then, ah... y-you c-could-... c-c-could..."

His slung bag rumbled with the heavy vibrations rocking his body, his tail bolted and cowered between his legs, and he welded his eyes shut. His lips curled in over his teeth, reaching into his mouth so deep just to grab the words and yank them out. Say it!

SAY IT!

"... YOU COULD GO AND TALK TO THEM YOURSELF!"

He had blasted it like cannon: sharp, sudden, and short. His failing efforts to speak had continually turned up blank, cranking up his desperation to say anything at all, and what he had wound up with was a shout so backed by his pent-up power it had become an awkward screech.

The true trouble was that he had aborted the invitation to join him. It had gotten halfway up his throat and then he had panicked. Too late to have stopped SOME words from flying, and with no ability to have squelched the vomiting faucet of his nervous energy, he had unthinkingly mutated his invitation into a reckless recommendation.

He chattered his teeth as his eyelids rolled back open, but perhaps he should have left them closed. The sight of a damaged Fluttershy was all that greeted him. She was pulling away again, retreating into herself in guilt as whatever ramshackle bridge had been built between the two ponies collapsed to simultaneous fire, flood, and earthquake.

"I m-m-meant, it's o-okay to t-t-talk to th-them if y-you w-want to...," he tried in whatever vain way he could to put his idiocy in a better context. But though his words had all the speed of correction they no longer had any ounce of vitality, nor were they backed by any imagination of success. "T-They're all pr-pretty f-f-friendly. The a-animals, I m-mean. They're f-friendly. A-Ah, i-if-... i-i-if y-you're nice."

"'If I'm-...?'" the silently distraught pegasus echoed.

But in the split-second it had taken her to start her question her worried mind had reinterpreted the innocent comment as an attack. A blow struck her gut – the 'two' of the stallion's unintentional one-two punch – and it stole any further air from her. She was certain now: he had read her and had rendered absolute, pitiful judgment. He had simply come here to inform her that the island's animals probably would NOT be friends with a pony LIKE HER.

"Oh..." Her head took a final crestfallen drop.

"A-A-A-Anyw-way I j-just w-wanted to t-tell you t-that," Humble Herd rambled, retreating a step with each stutter. "I s-should g-get b-back t-t-t-t-t-to work. B-B-B-B-Bye!"

He scrambled backwards, not quite successful in turning around until he slammed into another table. The shouts of the patrons there finally got him to whip about and then he darted away like a spooked rabbit.

Fluttershy's hoof, still planted on the table edge, went limp and fell off.

Through her pursed lips Applejack gave a loud, long whistle of astonishment.

"Well gosh dang that sure was something," she followed up, straightening her hat. "Poor feller was more knock-kneed than a newborn calf ice-skating." To her spiritually-trampled friend she turned and asked, "You alright, Fluttershy?"

"Mmmhmm," the other pony's throat quietly hummed, plumping the sound onto her empty plate from her fallen nose, the two close enough to touch.

And she wasn't the only one with her face dismally down in a plate. A few tables over Summer Wind was shaking her lowered head and mumbling into her food.

"Oh, Humble Herd..."

---

"... So after that, no money on us anymore, we just got in line and joined the crowds that had already filled the streets. And I mean FILLED; you have to try and picture thousands of people crammed together between the buildings for this. Anyway, that left us pretty far in back for the whole thing, but it was still a great night. Just all the lights and singing, and the energy of it. Warm friends and cold winds, right up until midnight. Then, dead and tired, we had to find our way BACK out of the city. But that's a whole nother adventure."

Alone at a table with Prism, James concluded yet another story. Ever since they had settled down on the beach after the volleyball game they had been trading personal tales and anecdotes back and forth, though through the hours the mare had increasingly been forgoing her turn in favor of only listening. The stories had continued right into lunch, and the longer-winded the man got the more he found that he wasn't so bothered by such lengthy recountings of his past.

Certainly he had always enjoyed the sound of his of own voice, but in the last few months there had always been an abundance of avoidance regarding deep trawls through his memories. Only now and again had rare bits and pieces been given away when relevant; a tempered reserve he had built up for obvious reasons. The main exception to the rule was Twilight, who was the only pony he had shared such thorough history with for any amount of willing regularity. That had been in part because she had always been such a rapt and eager audience, yet she also had always been chock full of counterpoints, questions, arguments, theories, tangents, tirades, abstractions, references, and infinitely many other contentious or extending comments. And while that entertaining struggle had been a happy element of his friendship with her...

... It was also so nice to just be able to conjure and relive memory while having somepony there who merely sat still and appreciated it.

"That late, after such a long morning and day?" Prism broke her solid attention to make another fascinated remark. "Why not have booked a hotel?"

"First, again, no money," he laughed and threw open his hands. "Second, I cannot impress upon you enough how many people were there. Thousands is NOT an exaggeration. This was a HUGE crowd. And where there's crowds there's money to be made, so on a night like that to rent just one room would've run us up a high-interest loan from the bank!"

"I see!" she smiled. "Then I guess it's good your friend lived so close to the city!"

"Yeah. Though by the time we had gotten back to his place I think the sun had already started coming up." The man's head fell into a pretend torpor. "We were dead for the rest of the day."

Prism rocked excitedly in her seat, as if she were cheering the end of the story like it had been a grand performance. Quite thrilled she exclaimed, "You and your friends! It honestly sounds like you were quite the inseparable explorers together!"

"SOUNDS like, yeah, heh," he corrected the emphasis, "only because you keep asking for me to tell you about them." Easing into a mellow smile he wiped away any fanciful ideas with a wave of his hand, saying casually, "I don't think my old friends and I really got up to anything that was that far out of the ordinary. Well, for where I'm from anyway."

"Oh, but what I meant is," she shared with such genuine excitement, "you're tied so close to them. I traveled near and far across Equestria and met so many interesting ponies, but you cemented friendships with just a few and then took them so many places with you!"

"Well, I wouldn't quite put it like that," James dismissed politely. He shrugged, "It's not as many places as you think. Certainly not nearly as many as you, I'm sure."

She nodded in acceptance but added with faint remorse, "There's still a lot to envy, I think."

"... So the road really did have a whole lot of meetings but never a lot of friendships?"

The pony wiggled uncomfortably, not agreeing with his interpretation but unable to truthfully deny it.

"Sort of," she expressed cautiously. "Never deep friendships, I guess. No friendships with ponies who were willing to join and travel anywhere with me."

"But that's kind of different," objected the man. "I mean, my group, we were friends for a long, long time; since we were young. But even so, we still weren't just up and dropping everything for each other on whims."

"I know," she seemed quite sad to admit, but in an instant her mood whirled around, lighting her up, "but it's really the big reason I am so glad to be here on this island now. This is something so different than before, for me. Closer. And deeper."

The man hummed.

The pony held him in a distant, thoughtful, warm stare as everything ran through her head: past, his and hers; hopeful futures, his and hers. Little amusements prickled at her insides, sparks of delight which peeked out in the pleasant turns of her lips and the slow, easy blinks of her eyes. She lifted herself up an inch to edge slightly around the table towards him, leaning over the tabletop as she came.

"So... James...," Prism opened, speaking with a new but thoroughly inviting tenderness, "... in all your stories I haven't heard you mention this yet. I thought I might ask, if it's alright, but I was just curious..."

She turned aside for a breath, also to herself flashing a smile that had all the coddled delirium of a dream. When she looked back at him he saw in her the sheer depth of her dream, with no wish to wake up.

"Are you... very close to any of your friends?"

Confusion arrested him, and not just from her question's secretive vagueness. The ponies, she meant? No no, among his old friends.

His wary lack of a response forced her to add more, "I mean, obviously you love them all. But what I meant is: ... was there ever one to whom you were..." She chose very special words. "... intimately attached?"

"Oh, a girlfriend?" he awoke with casual candor. With ease he dismissed, "There's been a few over the years, but not amongst my friends."

The pony gave his answer a disturbed glance, and he scratched his head while deciding that his wording had been rather unusual.

"I guess what I mean is that I see tight-knit friends and dates as different beasts. I never dated a friend in that sense. Always kept them separate."

"Ah. So then..." Still she was almost furtive. "... no special pony in your heart?"

"Fortunately not."

Again Prism gawked with undecided discomfort, and again he realized his answer was far too inadequate. He extended it, "That is, there wasn't one when I left home for... uh, Equestria. And there isn't one right now either. Nothing against romance, though; like I said, I tried it a few times."

"Oh, okay. I understand now," the pony nodded, much more pleased. "You hadn't mentioned anything like that at all. I was starting to wonder..."

One of his shoulders shrugged. It had been a natural omission from his tales.

"Dad always taught me you shouldn't share your dating life too openly; looks too much like bragging."

"Hehe, I don't know if I would agree with that," she mulled aloud in delight. The bracelets on her one of her ankles clinked against the table as she rested her leg up on it.

She became altogether more thoughtful in appearance, bending her weight towards the man while studying him in depth, and then she put the sincere question to him, "After everything you did with your friends together, why did you choose to come here alone? To Equestria, I mean."

"That's a whole different thing," James replied wearily. The technical details were laborious to explain, which is why he had avoided the exact specifics so far already. (It was both intriguing and perturbing how so many ponies' intense inward focus on their cutie mark-provided missions left them unworldly and ill-knowledgeable about geography. Even a pony as well-traveled as Prism had readily accepted his implied proposal of being merely a traveler from a far-off land populated not by ponies but entirely by beings like himself, as if whole unheard-of kingdoms and continents existing in the wild was an ordinary thing.)

To explain it to her in a new way that wouldn't provoke uncomfortable questions he merely said, "What's important is that I'm here in Equestria making new friends now."

The simple specifics of his answer struck her very swiftly, piling an enormous amount of happiness upon her. A full smile stretched across her muzzle, electric breath surged out of her, and she said, "And now you've come here to our island with new friends that you've made, and we can show you something even more amazing than just friendship!"

"One step at a time," he held up a hand and chuckled.

Prism went quiet. A train rolled through her mind, quickly followed by two more, and then a whole railroad of pleasurable thoughts chugged, shunted, shot, and whistled everywhere within of her; all silent beyond the border of her face except for the emerging light of a blissful dream.

Her glittering eyes held on him and she produced a sweetened sigh. Across the table she reached her leg, floating it towards him. If she wanted she could have tapped him with it, but instead it dangled just short of him, blocked somehow from going all the way.

"I want to earn your bracelet," she said to him. They were words pulled from a profound place; the most weighty thing he had so far heard her speak since having met her.

James didn't reply, looking only at her reaching leg and the rainbow of colors already hanging from it. He ground his teeth in unreadable thought.

"Will you give me that chance?" she begged humbly. Her legged pushed closer, but still it somehow couldn't reach him on its own.

A thick breath passed out of the man's lips, and he tilted his head to glance fleetingly at some of the other tables. Twilight was studious as ever, and friendly as ever; she was absorbed in sharing some scholarly work with a pony she had only met yesterday. Kind, brave, admirable Fluttershy sat mingling in quiet solace with honest, dependable, hardworking Applejack. Rainbow Dash, too; she was clearly busy being as loyal a companion as ever, and having a lot of fun doing it. And what more words needed to be said about faithful, faithful Spike?

Wonderful friends, all. Friends he had stumbled backwards into meeting. Friends he had made because he had fallen through a portal and then a princess had declared, "These can be your friends, if you'll give them the chance."

The 'chance' indeed. Those ponies' virtues had found the cracks in his resistance, not any doorways of his invitation.

Pinkie Pie was out there too, after all, laughing along with the new friend she had made. That was a pony who had no virtues which could incidentally draw him into friendship. And generous Rarity was owed so much, but for some crazy reason he had not the power to repay her as friendship demanded.

The only friend he had made on his own was Poppy. He idly tapped his medallion with his finger. Her friendship had been something that had been thrown onto him as well. He really was lucky she had tried so hard where he hadn't.

"I guess," he started to speak before he looked back at Prism, "I'll give it a try."

Maybe it was time to finally try making a new friend.

A glorious smile conquered the pony's face, beaming brightly. She withdrew her leg back to herself so that she could rest her chest upon on it, so ready to converse until she had spent every last breath of air on the island. Her warm future couldn't arrive soon enough.

"So...," she asked, wet with curiosity and burning with excitement, "... you said you've dated before? I'd so love to hear another story."

Comments

[Coranth]

I still think there's something odd about this island resort. I'm waiting for things to slowly unravel...

[paladinwolf]

What hasn't been said yet, is that Venus and Vesuvius have discovered an ancient island herbal drink...
fe867b.medialib.glogster.com/media/ae/ae62c9c950c7a245ecd51a87e382043499f61ef50e45f6d0079bd3938fce6add/love-potion-energy-drink-jpg.jpg
and one they get the princess of equestria's apprentice to endorse it, the world will be theirs!

[Jack Kellar]

The blindness of all the visitors except the one who nobody takes seriously is downright grating. Wake the hell up, people, god damn it!

Rarity is on another level entirely. Zurock, I'll be honest, you are being far too two-dimensional about her. It's getting to the point where I've started renaming this vapid and dense damsel "Fleur" rather than Rarity, because this isn't the canonically intelligent and perceptive mare with a slugger streak that is Rarity. Play another note, for pete's sake.

[Zurock]

6938585
I imagine this has more to do with the pace the story has slowed to since I flipped out and decided to shovel truckloads of characters and subplots into the tale. (The earliest take of the story always implied there were plenty of islanders and everypony had their own guide, but there were only 4 named ones who would have serviced the plot: Venus, Vesuvius, Barb [who became Sweet Nothing], and Jali [who became Gallowayo.]) For some of the plots/subplots, things are still 'early,' for whatever such a term means with respect to something that's expanded this grossly.

Rarity is definitely thinner right now because her being in one of her googoo-eyed phases services the plot, and matches the dreamer side of character. We do see the start of something different from her in this chapter when she talks about Spike. It is definitely on me though to figure out how to write my way from the story's starting points to the beats I know it want it to hit while making sure that she doesn't remain a passive force which solely reacts to Spike, Sweet Nothing, Summer Wind, James, et al. It's just useful right now.

[Jack Kellar]

6938969 Fair enough. Sometimes I forget that so little time elapses during and between chapters.

[Zurock]

6942297
Oh, trust me, I forget it too sometimes.

If anything, your sort of callout helps to remind me of all the things I need to stop and take stock of every now and again. Over the course of the series James goes through a friendship conflict with all five of the non-Twilight ponies (Twilight gets excepted by being the co-protagonist and having a larger character relationship with him, Spike is the 'control' who accepts James immediately, faithfully, and without reserve.) Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack have all had their conflicts resolved in the first two stories, and some of those plots turned out much, much better than others. Necessary Love here is clearly being poised to finish Pinkie Pie's and Rarity's respective plots, and Rarity's easily has the potential to go bad. Certainly if I turn it into something where she does nothing but get preyed upon by Sweet Nothing, James slugs that jacksauce right in his snout, and then declares, "LOLZ, the day is saved! Generosity repaid!!!1"... well that would be one of the most garbage ways for that whole thing to turn out.

I think of all the many aspects of this particular story, including the extended overlapping subplots I'm furiously knitting in, I think the James/Rarity conflict is probably the one I'm having the most difficulty pulling together.

[Neverborn]

6943676

If that's the case, and Prism wasn't going to be a real character before, then I am glad you changed and added her. She is great, and the human/pony interaction she adds is welcome. Thats the main thing I read HIE fics for :)

[Jack Kellar]

6943676 Oh, I know that pain, when you have so many plot threads going, but can't cross them over too much or stretch them too far, or the less consolidated ones will simply break apart into something shallow and unsurprising. I'm running into that problem with all the stories I write.

Why does writing have to be so hard?

Then again, I suppose that's what makes it so satisfying

[Zurock]

6945367
Prism is one of those additions that is insanely obvious in retrospect. If I'm going to go to the trouble of differentiating human and pony sexuality with some significance for story's sake then it'd be a huge waste not to have the human character confront it in some way which is more direct and personal than only the inevitable discussion he'll share about the topic with Twilight.

[Hallucination]

6938969 Will there maybe be a reminder of her infatuation with Blueblood, and how that particular debacle worked out?

[Zurock]

6994523
I don't know about directly, but certainly that is one of the things I'm taking influence from regarding her behavior.

[wlam]

"I want to earn your bracelet," she said to him. They were words pulled from a profound place; the most weighty thing he had so far heard her speak since having met her.

This is vaguely funny. I've seen that thing with pearl necklaces they do at certain festivals, as well as, of course, the other kind, but this is taking it to a new extreme. No zealot like a convert, I guess.