Necessary Love

by Zurock

Chapter 33: Absence

Clouds of Twilight's purple magic rolled over the table, reorganizing everything on it. Party settings were put back in their proper places, spent plates were stacked on top of each other, and both empty drinking glasses drifted back into place. Each dropped gingerly before their respective owner, making hardly an audible clap. No words passed between herself and James.

Twilight gazed down into her bare cup, and the little swish of bubbles napping in the basin.

Maybe downing it all right at the start had been a dumb idea. More right now would have been great.

Humming in irritation, she looked up at James.

The man was likewise inspecting his drink, lightly sniffing up whatever faint traces of alcohol lingered.

Up on stage, the current song finished out with an intense, shivering vocal layered over a hard, lengthy chord, and quickly it all faded into a small crowd of hoof-claps and cheers. Then immediately the next tune started; yet another love ballad, gentle but powerful.

Twilight sighed.

"Anything could have caused the islanders' disappearance," she broke the silence between herself and her friend, resuming their conversation.

"Sure," though the man leered questioningly, "but if it were to be discovered that something with magic screwed up and caused it, it would be a big boost to your theory, yeah?"

"It would demand a huge investigation into that hypothesis," she accepted. "But you've got it all backwards. You don't scour the island specifically for clues to some... remotely possible, completely unproven theory and then backfill the details. The first step is to figure out what actually caused the island's collapse. Then you can see if reality points in the direction of the unsubstantiated theory. And right now," she sighed again, "there's no clues as to what ended the civilization here. Trust me, I've been going over everything I can get my hooves on. No clues at all."

"Well, no clues that Venus and Vesuvius have found, anyway," the man threw up his shoulders and spun his eyes through a wacky loop, dismissing the owners' efforts quite cruelly, "but by their own admission they aren't archaeologists, or historians, or professors. Frankly, I think they aren't even very good entrepreneurs."

The unicorn groaned in agreement.

"They're out of their depth for sure. But maybe the Island Society will find some solid clues they've missed. They are shipping so much back for study, after all."

Yet her hopes weren't much brighter than a distant sun behind gray clouds.

"Until such a lead is found, though... I think that probability alone dictates a more mundane calamity wiped out the island culture."

James smirked, "Don't have much faith in your micro/marco theory?"

"It's overly-generous to call it a 'theory,' really. It's just something I've been kicking around in my head ever since I met you."

She looked into her drink again.

"... And... I've never really liked some of the things it implies, anyway. I'd rather it not be true..."

"I can tell," he said delicately. "You would have brought it up a long time ago if it was something you were really excited about."

"Hm. Well... regardless... let's not get carried away with elaborate, bush league hypothesizing. Just because there's a mysteriously empty island here doesn't mean we should throw all reasonable doubt into the wind and assume that something magically traumatic must have-"

Instantly her jaw stopped whirring, locking open. The last sound dropped right out with an incomplete thud.

"Uh... Twilight?" James asked.

Plainly gears were churning behind her eyes; a sight very familiar to him now. But even for such deep thought, she was unusually unresponsive. She was so buried that there wasn't a hint, good or bad, of what was going through her mind.

A badly traumatized mare recovered at sea.

"... No... No, it... probably isn't-...," Twilight began to wake up.

"Isn't what?"

"Uh, r-relevant. To anything," the unicorn came back with a start. She slapped her tongue against the sides of her mouth to beat some submission into it.

"What isn't relevant?"

"Nothing," she shook her head. "It's just some more wild speculation."

"Right," he acknowledged, confused, "but wild speculation is something that we—you and I—something that we do."

He added a cheeky smile.

"For fun, sometimes."

"I know," Twilight allowed some brightness back in, "but all of this is getting a little grim, I think. Definitely too grim for a vacation, which I'll remind you is what we're doing here."

"Fair enough," James concurred.

The unicorn gave one last faded glance down into her empty drink.

"In any case," she said slowly, coming back up, "I don't believe Equestria is in any actual danger or anything. Even if my theory were coincidentally completely true, things have always worked out for Equestria in the end. Every ultra-magical fiend has been met and beaten by goodhearted heroes, and every ultra-magical disaster has been averted by the wholesome goodness of those who wouldn't let it happen."

The man shrugged, "That's true."

"Actually, it would have to be that way, technically. The logic might appear a little circular," Twilight reasoned, "but it goes like this: if creatures adapt by responding to environmental pressures, and one of those pressures is regular macro-evils, then highly adapted creatures will develop an appropriate response."

"Ah. Like natural selection, but with magic. (Magical selection?)"

"That's a good comparison, you know, for your own understanding. I'll remind you that magic is natural here, thank you very much."

"Heh."

Twilight buzzed with a little laughter as well, and then the conversation fell away from them for a few uninterrupted bars of music.

"So...," James picked up, "... you want to have more back and forth about sex, or...?"

"Well... do you?" she asked. "How do you feel?"

"I'm great," he said, easy and bordering on enthusiastic. "I feel kind of enlightened, really."

"Well that's good! The whole reason I brought it up was for you."

"Yeah, but I never wanted to drag you through anything like that...," he still felt her initial reasoning had been somewhat spotty.

"No, no," she assured him, "it started out a little... terrifying, but... I found it incredibly interesting in the end."

Thinking back on it made her blush swiftly and strongly, enough to turn her cheeks a very rich red, but quickly she shook it off.

"Really," she said, "thank you for trusting me. I hope I've proven that you can talk to me about anything, if it's important enough to you."

He tipped his head to her, saying, "If I ever doubted before, I was a fool."

"That's right!" she laughed. "So... you're good, then?"

"Yeah. Good talk."

She returned a kind nod to him.

And really, the man was supremely thankful for it. She had advanced him significantly on Equestrian sexuality without the need for him to have re-endured adolescence, only more awkward for its cross-cultural, cross-species difficulties. He was now in a much better place to keep some of his fundamental humanity from harming ponies with erroneous assumptions.

Better yet, their discussion had given him a superior position with which to understand the strange behaviors of his assigned pony-

He suddenly sat far up, nearly standing, and he threw his eyes all over the boardwalk.

"What?" Twilight questioned his odd search.

"Where's Prism?" he said. He failed to find any hint of her around, and grew disappointed; worried, even.

"Your pony partner? I don't know," the unicorn answered. "Was she with us when the party started?"

"No, yeah," he mumbled almost incoherently, half his broken attention given to his friend and the other half to the pony who wasn't there. "We were talking and then she dashed just before you came."

"Ah, I thought I saw her," Twilight recalled, "but when I looked again you were all alone, which is why I imagined it was a good time to approach you."

"No, she had just run off to... quickly grab me a chair or something."

There wasn't a flash of silver fur about the party. Not a flare of a pastel mane. Not a sparkle of a bracelet.

Sitting back down, he murmured, "You and I were talking for a long, long while. It really shouldn't have taken Prism this long."

"Well, she does work here," Twilight tried to be helpful. "Maybe she suddenly got swept up into some other duty?"

"... I guess..."

He wasn't appeased.

"She could come back any minute," the unicorn stayed optimistic. "Why don't you just enjoy the party until she returns? Some of the others look like they're having a lot of fun."

"I... should probably wait for her."

Twilight eyed him skeptically, amused.

"I don't think she'd have trouble finding you if you were to get up and enjoy yourself at another table."

"Yeah, but..."

Suddenly his thoughts ran dry and he didn't say anymore.

"Okay," Twilight conceded pleasantly and politely. "But is it alright if I go and explore the party? I'll sit here with you if you want."

"Oh, no, no," the man's regretful humility came right forward. He smiled and waved his hands to shoo her off. "You go have a blast. It's not like you're going far if I need you."

"Alright."

A little twinkle of magic and then her empty glass stood up at the same time as she did.

"Don't be afraid to have some fun," she recommended earnestly, "and, 'good night,' if I don't talk to you before it's all over."

"Enjoy. Night, Twilight."

Away she went, merrily looking about the boardwalk while deciding what she wanted to do next.

James watched the far side of the stage platform, where Prism had vanished from existence. Yet for all his endless staring, she didn't come bolting back around with a floating chair tethered to her by white magic. Not after a minute; or two; or five. Gallowayo collected his applause for another song and proceeded on to the next, and still the colorful mare did not return.

The man rubbed his eyes and looked down into his dry glass, not a drop left behind.

Man, he did not feel drunk at all.

He lifted his hand before his face and counted his fingers deftly and accurately. He wobbled his wrist, easily tracking his palm as it moved in and out of his vision. He rocked his head side to side, feeling precisely the sloshing of blood in his brain down to the last drop.

Oh, the faintest fuzz was there, but it wasn't going to jumble up his backwards-alphabet anytime soon. Either pony alcohol was underpowered compared to human-brewed (and it would not have surprised him), or there was some sort of miraculous sobering power to discourse with Twilight.

He glanced towards the bar. Applejack was on a stool, plainly visible in the light spilling out of the little shed's open face. More liquid courage was available, if he so wished.

Actually, after everything he and Twilight had talked about, he felt he needed it more than ever before. If Prism were to have come back while he was so dry, there was no way he'd be able to keep it together. It wasn't as though he genuinely had a plan to get too sloshed to care, but a little tipsiness went a long way towards greasing his many misshapen gears.

Groaning, he pulled at his own hair.

There was still no sign of Prism.

Groaning again, he stood up and yanked the back of his pants out of the depths of his butt. Glass in hand, he scooted his way towards the bar.

Applejack and Till were chatting away, albeit in a very quiet, almost confidential manner, when the man came upon them. Mostly the chocolate stallion was listening as the farm pony controlled the conversation. Certain key words kicked up her gentle voice as they came out again and again: 'apples', 'Apples', 'cousin', 'niece', 'aunt'... Almost certainly Till was getting the Apple family's unabridged history. Both ponies were happy to pause when the man arrived, but James was too rushed and agitated to do any more than quickly and politely order a refill.

Till was again wary and concerned; he was surprised at the man's intact constitution after even one whole glass. However, service wasn't outright refused; he just issued yet another careful warning while he poured, this time making absolutely, positively sure that the man knew to take it slow and easy. After a fast 'thank you,' James departed with his fresh drink, catching one final friendly urging of caution from the bartender.

Before the man had even sat back down on his butt-post he had gulped down a quarter of his new drink.

Prism was still nowhere to be found.

He spent the time between his searches attentively nursing his drink. It was like delicately guiding a boat into harbor: he wanted to dock himself perfectly between the relaxed warmth and the sloppy inebriation. It took until he was halfway through his drink before he finally began to feel the party about him turn blissfully sluggish.

Once more his lifted his hand before his face. When he counted his fingers it took a few extra blinks and some squinting to get the correct number. When he waved his wrist he felt the movements before he saw the wobble, and there was a blur to everything which gave him an unexplainable tickle of pleasure. When he rolled his head back and forth it felt more like it was the whole world which was teetering.

Yet when he sat perfectly still and took a breath, everything seemed crystal clear, like he hadn't had a drop of alcohol.

Bullseye.

So long as he didn't sink any deeper, he felt sure that he wouldn't wind up on his face for the rest of the evening, or more importantly that he wouldn't be a volcano of vomit the next morning. From then on he kept his glass at arms length, using only a sip here or there to maintain the precise buzz.

But Prism still hadn't returned. He was beginning to doubt that she ever would before the party was over.

He held his head in his hands, nearly missing the table when he tried to lean on it.

A brilliant master plan, wasted! Drink some something to do the something without all the something something in the way.

He felt smart, at least.

Now what was he going to do?

There was a something... with the something...

A something...?

Wait, which something?

He looked about the boardwalk.

Adorable Fluttershy, alone at her table, was certainly enjoying the show. The man didn't care much for the music; not badly produced or performed, but Gallowayo was just spitting out standard-grade pop material again and again. Rarity had her worshipers, of course. Twilight was floating between tables, her mind elsewhere it seemed. And then there was a very noisy table with Rainbow Dash, Hulahoof, and...

... Pinkie Pie.

Oh yeaaaahhh...! That was one of the somethings!

He had made a promise.

To Rainbow Dash.

He needed to tolerate Pinkie Pie for a few minutes in order to please Rainbow Dash. And no problem now! Even Pinkie Pie's frightening power couldn't pierce a shield of alcohol! Maybe he could tell that one joke where the priest, the rabbi, and the magical sun princess all walk into a bar!

"... Ah-ha! I've got it! I know where we are!" Hulahoof built towards the climax of his humorous anecdote.

In another voice, he answered himself, "Where?"

"Tartarus!"

His second voice flew straight past skepticism and right into deadly hostile disbelief.

"... How do you figure?"

"Well... read the clues! Everything is hot to the touch, though then again, it is summertime. There's also a stinging scent of sulfur in the air, but I suppose that could be all the trash bags rotting by the curb. Oh, and no matter where you listen you hear the moaning cries of eternal suffering, though I guess that could also just be because traffic is really bad today."

"THAT'S ALL BECAUSE WE STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN OUT OF THE CITY!! What could possibly make you so sure this is Tartarus?!"

"Well, here's the cincher: that's my mother-in-law over there!"

Being cliché might have cost the joke a few points, but his carefree delivery more than made up for it. Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash went spinning with laughter; the pink pony especially. Her hooves drummed on the table until she couldn't hold back anymore, and she leapt up with a loud smile.

"Okay! My turn!" she announced. With a solid twist she cracked her neck once, though instead of limbering bone it made the sound of a squeaky bicycle horn.

“A baker and her assistant made an enormous four-layer cake for a royal wedding on the other side of the mountain. However, before they even wheeled it out of their shop, the baker realized, "Oh no! The cake is too tall to fit out the shop door!"

"Well then," the assistant suggested, "if WE eat the top layer of the cake, it will be short enough to fit through the door!"

"But the cake is for the beautiful couple being wed, not for us!" the baker said.

"Better that we show up with a three-layer cake than with no cake at all!" the assistant replied.

It was a good point, so the baker agreed. They ate the top layer of the cake and pushed it out the door.

When they started to push the cake up the mountain, it wobbled and rocked, nearly sliding off the cart. The baker stopped pushing.

"This is not good!" she said. "The cake is so top-heavy that it is going to tumble over on this steep mountain trail! What ever will we do?"

"I know!" said the assistant. "If we eat the top layer of the cake, it won't be top-heavy enough to fall over. Then we can push it up the mountain safely!"

"But-!" the baker tried to object.

"Better that we show up with a two-layer cake than with no cake at all!" the assistant said.

Again it was a good point, so the baker agreed. They ate the top layer of the cake and pushed it up the mountain.

Even with two layers of the cake now eaten, the cake was still very, very large. When the baker and her assistant came over the top of the mountain trail and hit the slope down, the cart was so heavy that it almost rolled away them! The baker set it safely on the flattest part of the trail she could find.

"Oh dear me!" she said. "The cake is so weighty that it is going to go speeding down this mountain and crash at the bottom! What ever will we do?"

"I know!" said the assistant. "If we eat the top layer of the cake, it won't be weighty enough to escape from us. Then we can guide it slowly down the mountain! Better that we show up with one layer of cake than with no cake at all!"

And again the baker felt like her assistant was unfortunately right. So they ate the top layer of the cake and wheeled it slowly down the mountain.

At last they made it to the royal wedding hall on the other side of the mountain.

Exhausted, the baker asked her assistant, "I need to rest. Could you please handle things with the royal guards at the front and bring the cake inside?"

"Sure!" said the assistant.

So the baker left to take a load off her hooves, and once she was rested she returned just in time to join the wonderful wedding. Afterwards, with everypony at the reception, it was finally time to unveil the cake. The assistant wheeled the sheet-covered cart out, the baker made her grand introduction, and then...

... she threw off the sheet to reveal nothing but crumbs and the cake topper!

"What happened to our cake?!" the baker gasped.

The assistant explained, "The guards wouldn't let me in because they said we were supposed to have a four-layer cake. So, to prove to them that our cake was the right cake, I let them have a taste and eat the last layer."

"But WHY?" scolded the baker. "Now there's no cake left for the reception!"

And the assistant said, "Well, obviously, better that we show up with NO CAKE than-"”

"Is this spot taken?"

James nearly stumbled into the table right across from where Pinkie Pie was standing. He steadied himself against it before he, giggling loudly at his own wobbly balance, tossed his drink down onto the tabletop. Even half-full, the liquid inside almost popped out of the glass as it clacked down. Then the man spun in rapid circles, looking for a chair.

"Well-o, hello, new face!" Hulahoof happily greeted him. "Have a seat!"

"I'm trying!" James laughed. There wasn't anything stool-worthy in reach, however. When he stopped spinning, his head kept going, and he teetered just shy of taking a spill. Clasping his head to get it on straight, he laughed again and simply sat his butt on the floor.

His nose didn't even clear the tabletop.

"Nope, that's not going to work!" he said.

Rainbow Dash wasn't sure if she was aghast, concerned, suspicious, amused, or what. For all her days chilling together with the man, this was something completely new, and what's more, his arrival had brought a cold silence over Pinkie Pie. But bit by bit the man's absurd antics slowly chipped away at her more touchy senses, and it became harder and harder not to laugh at his ridiculousness.

"Geez, what's up with you?" her chuckle spilled out.

James upgraded from a sit to a kneel, enough to bring his whole head above the edge of the table. But it also disrupted his already-handicapped balance and he almost fell over again. He popped back up with a smile.

"You see, Dasher Doodle," he waved an aimless finger at the pegasus, "our two species had segregated evolutions and now I'm suffering the consequences of that. P.S.: humans rule, ponies drool; we invented chairs."

"We have chairs," Rainbow Dash snorted from her gut.

"A bold but false claim!"

"Hehe, wow! Why are you such a numskull tonight—Oh! You need something to sit on!" she realized. "Haha, why didn't you just say so? Hey Hulahoof! Do you have anything the Pants Master here can sit on so he doesn't come up so... short?"

"Hm. I think so...," one of the blue stallion's wings rubbed his chin.

"No, it's cool! It's cool!" James defended himself. "I think this'll work!"

He planted his chin on the table's edge; just three ponies and a man's head, all sitting around a table. Then, as if he had no arms, he futilely tried to grasp his drink with just his tongue. Scarcely he managed to lick the side of the glass.

"Pff, hahaha! Wow," Rainbow Dash shook her head. Any genuine distress she felt became completely buried under her amused bewilderment.

"What? I'm just doing my me thing," he said.

"This isn't a you thing! Like, not at all! You're never this wired and goofy!"

"Aw, how would you know, Rainbow Rumpus?"

"Uh, a few ways," the pegasus contested him merrily. She counted her reasons off on her hooves (but since she only one hoof per leg, she just kept tapping the same hoof over and over again), "First off: these nicknames aren't your best material, okay, Captain Carnivore? Try harder. Second: I think I've seen you take enough midday naps to know that this isn't like you. And lastly, I have two words for you: 'QUIET. PARTIES.'"

The man, eyes wide and lips puckered, fiddled his fingers through the air.

"Well, maybe I have amazing hidden depths that you don't know about!"

Again he used only his tongue to reach for his drink, but this time he overplayed his drunken effort and his balance finally gave way. His hands slapped the table as he grasped it to stop his fall, nearly pulling the whole thing over, but he was no less cheery when he came back up.

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash laughed, just a little dryly, "that's pretty amazing."

Hulahoof came around next to the man, and he wheeled with him a sturdily-made but lovingly well-polished cannon. It wasn't at all the actual size of a piece of artillery – a dwarf by comparison – but it looked like a real piece of equipment: two sizable, spoked wheels supporting a fat barrel, and in back a small pig-tail of a fuse that – it seemed to the man – might have actually been a pull cord instead. There wasn't any reason to doubt the device couldn't have launched a heavy shot put over a mile.

"I never go anywhere without my extra-special party cannon!" the stallion said. "Here, you can sit on it."

"You sure?" James blinked, grasping the pony's statement in perhaps not the intended way.

"No worries! It'll be fine! It's a-hundred-crabs-with-washboard-abs tough!"

The man bumbled aside so that the pony could roll the improvised seat into place and lock its wheels. Once positioned, James mounted it by straddling his legs about the barrel. The small cannon took on his weight without effort, and it gave him the perfect sitting height to match his tablemates.

"Hey, thanks!" James said. He bounced on his new seat like a toddler on a parent's knee. The rounded metal shape might have been a little uncomfortable and solid, but certainly it was a thousand times better than that post that had been up his butt.

"Treat him gently!" Hulahoof requested. "I've had him since he was only a super-little party popper!"

"Trust me. I'm gentle with everything between my legs!"

James was the only one who laughed. He looked down at the massive, thick, rigid cannon now poking out from below his torso, and he gave it a feel with both his hands. Along the hard, smooth shaft he rubbed his palms up and down.

"Well," he snickered at Rainbow Dash, "this is a naughty metaphor waiting to happen."

She squinted cluelessly.

"So!" the man clapped both his hands together and leaned onto the table, "What'd I jump in on?"

Hulahoof, back at his seat, said, "Pinkie Pie was just getting to the punchline of her joke!"

The blue pony turned to the pink one, and his enormous smile listened for the finale like it was going to give him the hilarious, gut-busting death-by-laughter that he had always dreamed of. He sparkled eagerly, like a bundle of wet balloons under sunshine.

Pinkie Pie, still frozen as a hare being hunted, ticked her pinprick pupils the tiniest notch to the left to look at Hulahoof. Then two notches to the right to look at Rainbow Dash. Then, slow as the boulder rolled in front of a tomb after the final internment, they came back to the man. Either her eyeballs started to expand or the rest of her head started to shrink; it wasn't obvious which.

"Well?" Hulahoof obliviously encouraged her.

Her nose wiggled. An inch this way, an inch that way.

Then suddenly her neck stretched long, her mouth flapped open like a screeching train whistle, and booming to nopony in particular she squawked quickly, "TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE! HA HA HA!"

Instantly afterwards, her mouth shut dead silent and she slunk down in her seat. Her mane clumped down to mop up her fearful sweat, and she hid everything behind her big, toothy, crazed smile, itself trapped behind frowning lips.

"... I get it! Heh," Hulahoof broke the silence somewhat generously.

The sudden, unhelpful remark made James snerk.

All the amusement had finally stopped tickling Rainbow Dash, though. The man's oddities might have been trying to invite them all back, but the barely concealed panic in Pinkie Pie's outburst had scared away every last laugh in one heck of a hurry. Anxiously the pegasus looked between her two friends.

Now instead of something being wrong with one of them, there was something wrong with both of them!

"That was great, probably!" James rushed to compliment the joke he hadn't heard, but then he immediately began bouncing on the cannon and exclaimed, "I got one now, though!"

"Super! Let's hear it!" Hulahoof excitedly invited.

"Right! Right! Okay! Right! Yeah! Okay!"

The man kept slapping the air before him, like he was feeling an invisible wall for the hole he must have left his joke in, or perhaps like he was bargaining with an invisible dog to drop the joke it had fetched for him.

"Okay, right!" he at last began. "So! A priest, a rabbi, and a moon-butt all walk into a bar, and-... —? Oh, shit, I already screwed it up!"

While he kept choking on his own laughter trying to restart the joke, Rainbow Dash winced at the casually deployed extreme vulgarity. Nervously she glanced at the others.

Pinkie Pie stayed frozen behind her false and terrified grin, with only the occasional suppressed-twitch jolting her. Hulahoof – bless his kind soul – endured, but each moment more of the man's unhinged and drunken fumbling made the blue pegasus transform further into a clone of the disquieted pink pony.

"A ha ha ha ha...," Rainbow Dash sadly, helplessly laughed.

---

Giggle after giggle flitted out from Rarity's rosy cheeks. She insisted mirthfully, "Oh no no no no no no, I couldn't possibly have any more!"

"My fair and beautiful lady, don't be so restrained," Sweet Nothing serenaded her. "Tell me: which did you enjoy the most?"

The dressmaker's chin nuzzled her own chest. Her eyes turns gayfully aside. She blushed.

"... The chocolate-and-caramel macadamias were quite sinful..."

"Then you'll have as many as you please!"

"Oh but I couldn't!" she playfully batted away the suggestion in her deepest voice.

"Here, you're the queen; there is nothing you can't indulge in!" the dark stallion assured her. He crept in awfully close. "I'll train you to be more sinful."

Rarity went wild with more blissful, bashful laughter. Her bright color shone straight through the night-blue of her dazzling dress.

Spike, the whole time sitting next to her on her other side, fumed. He had so far endured every one of Sweet Nothing's thieving advances in outraged silence, but now that criminal had gone too far.

The dragon stood and loudly declared, "I'll go get you some more macadamias, Rarity."

"Nonsense, Spike," the mare sobered up in an instant and shot him down immediately.

Crestfallen, the dragon shrunk back into his seat.

But then Rarity softly picked up his chin and presented to him a smile that was more divine than the deepest-buried gem.

"You must remember," she said vibrantly, "we're the guests here. We send the lowly servants to do our fetching. I need you to sit right here and keep me company, my wonderful Spikie-Wikie."

Every scale on Spike's body stood on end and tingled, from the ends of his frills all the way down to the very tip of his tail. He also got a kick of bonus pleasure when he looked past the beautiful mare and saw Sweet Nothing grinding his teeth.

"Well, servant? You heard her! Fetch!" the dragon commanded the dark stallion. "And while you're at it, get me some more of those chocolate ruby cordials."

Sweet Nothing seethed, baring his fangs, but he turned it all into a tense smile the very moment that Rarity looked his way.

"Yes. Right away, sir."

"Oh, thank you very much, Mr. Nothing," Rarity said politely. "You continue to be a host par excellence. I'm almost ashamed I won't have the chance to show you an equitable service in return."

"No, no. It will be my pleasure," he said back. Then, with all the formal mendacity of a bouquet of plastic flowers, he hastily bowed and departed.

Summer Wind, also at the table with them, noted the whole exchange. It pleased her to no end to see Rarity and Spike immediately continue to enjoy each other's company once Sweet Nothing was gone, as if he hadn't been there at all.

Yet she watched them with only half-interest. It seemed like it had been less and less necessary for her to run interference on Spike's behalf ever since the bell moths. Obviously Rarity had still enjoyed all the exaggerated doting that Sweet Nothing had been offering, but now it was plain to see that she wasn't confused at all about who was selfishly charming her and who loved her. Even if the dressmaker was reluctant to admit anything, if it ever came down to a single moment of choice then there wasn't even a question about whom Rarity would choose.

In fact, it really felt like hovering over the dragon and the mare was a waste of Summer Wind's time. At the moment, anyway. Without saying a word she started to slip away from the table, but stealth had never been a strong attribute for such a large pegasus.

"Where're you going, Summer Wind?" Spike asked. There was still a warm glow in his cheeks, glittering right through his scales. It didn't sound like he assumed anything was wrong.

"Just to... you know... check out the rest of the party," Summer Wind excused herself.

"Dear me, we're not making you feel unwelcome, are we?" Rarity worried. "You've been so quiet all this time."

The large pegasus put on a confident smile.

"Not at all! I'm only here to help, but it seems like you two have each other well taken care of already." She gave a bow, and she especially assured Spike, "I'll see you ponies later! Enjoy yourselves!"

"Alright. Later, Summer Wind!" the dragon waved.

Rarity likewise wished a happy goodbye, and then the pegasus left.

Summer Wind's steps started carefree, for as long as she thought the others were still looking her way, but once she felt unwatched then she became slow and thoughtful. She stopped when a tender, almost envious shiver moved through her. She let the cold run its course before casting it out, and she put the innocent dragon-and-pony couple out of her mind.

"Hmm," Rarity said, looking at Summer Wind's empty seat, "she hardly seems to have touched her food."

"She didn't really eat any of her breakfast this morning, either," Spike remembered.

"Is that so? Oh dear, I wonder if she's not feeling well?"

"Gosh, you think?" the dragon took the concern seriously. "Now that you mention it, there has been something... miserable about her. I hope she feels better soon."

"Spike, darling, are you thinking of doing something for her?"

"You think I should?"

Summer Wind still felt a chill. By the time she had reached the far end of the party she was stiff, dreary, and dragging herself on like a long winter that wouldn't yield to spring.

She set herself down somewhere that she had a good view over the entire party and went back to what she had been doing in between all the many distractions before:

Searching, and failing, to find any sign of Humble Herd.

All the way down the hills from the bell moth spectacle she had stuck by her meek friend, but no sooner had they reached the boardwalk had he gotten lost in the mishmash of the starting party. After vanishing, she hadn't caught one wink of him anywhere. And now, able to give her search her full attention, she still didn't spy mane or tail of him.

She sighed.

Again she looked at the table Humble Herd should have been at. She had kept one eye on it all night: the lonesome table, big enough to seat four ponies comfortably, where Fluttershy sat alone with a basket of untouched party favors.

Besides some fast chitchat with a passing Twilight, not a single pony had joined the animal-loving pegasus. Apparently though, the isolation hadn't bothered her at all. In fact, she seemed more approachable than ever. The combination of the bell moth spectacle earlier and the concert now had done something to her.

She was at the edge of her seat, practically being pulled up and over the table by Gallowayo's hypnotic singing. Each bump in the music jolted her body, and she followed along with happy little bops. The boardwalk beneath her was swept clean by her tail's dancing back and forth. There wasn't a single light coming from the stage which could compare to the dreaming sparkles in her own wide eyes as she watched the performance, enraptured. And every time a chorus repeated – every time – she mouthed along in sync with Gallowayo, having learned the words perfectly with only her first listening.

Every love song he performed, whether soaring or sorrowful, she followed with the utmost adoring dedication. She worshiped the music; studied it as a sacred scripture; copied the words onto her heart.

It was a far cry from the entirely shy, almost invisible mare of before. Probably Fluttershy was so lost in the music that she didn't know how marvelously, adorably goofy she appeared, and she would have shrunk out of existence from embarrassment if anypony were to have interrupted her. But still, all her timid defenses were down; she was warm, inviting, and happy; and anypony soft enough could have just walked right up to her with a quiet 'hello' and would have been welcomed.

Really, it was the perfect opening for a cripplingly reserved pony like Humble Herd.

If only he were actually around!

The whole situation made Summer Wind outrageously sad. Humble Herd was a wonderful, attentive, remarkable, caring, sensitive, and goodhearted pony, in the most pure way. He was so kind that he never took a single second for himself until he was sure that everypony else around was taken care of. He showed that same kindness to every animal too, down to even the smallest little bug.

In every way he was Sweet Nothing's opposite. Sweet Nothing, who only put on friendly disguises so that he could achieve his own selfish ends. Sweet Nothing, who only saw kindness as a disposable currency with which to barter treats to satisfy his own greed. Sweet Nothing, who walked all over ponies like Humble Herd.

Humble Herd was easily the most deserving – and least rewarded – pony Summer Wind had ever met.

But, as much as Spike was a good fit for Rarity, Humble Herd was a good fit for Fluttershy. If Fluttershy was as soft and gentle as her dossier had suggested (and as she so nakedly appeared now that they had met her), then she was a pony who could appreciate all those things about Humble Herd that Summer Wind herself appreciated, but she also wouldn't be very imposing or threatening to him at all. With Fluttershy, there was finally a pony tame enough for Humble Herd to share the full, incredible depth of the island's magic with. He could at last have that beautiful experience, like he truly deserved.

An experience Summer Wind herself hadn't been able to give him.

She hadn't been right for him. Or rather, her needy body had been all wrong for him; too much for him.

After the island's magic had failed, she had spent too many days in the sky assembling the clouds while huffing in thought over how everything about Humble Herd was wonderful, amazing, and perfect...

... except for that one enormous, painful incompatibility...

A mismatch which had turned a miracle into a malignancy...

For her, only that jerk Sweet Nothing had the stamina to give the intensity her body needed under the island's magic; to bring the storms that she craved to ride.

How sickening. And unfair.

It was a very cold fire which had angry and shivering. She groused to herself so intently that she lost track of her search, the party, and absolutely everything going on about her. All she could think about was her misery, and the misery her misery had caused Humble Herd, and it made her want to get up into the sky and smash a stormcloud until it cried lightning.

The music stopped abruptly; just a song coming to a sharp but normal end. Gallowayo bowed and there were adulations from the audience, including some soft, peppy cheers from Fluttershy.

It happened suddenly that it jarred Summer Wind into awareness. She sighed as the tips of her large wings rubbed her throbbing, icy temples. Trying to let all her troublesome feelings go, she took one more intent look across the party, and she gasped.

Unbelievably enough, there was Humble Herd.

He wasn't in the party proper, and quite plainly he was trying not to be seen. He skulked wide around the boardwalk, more interested in the bushes and the trees at the beach's edge than in the music and the ponies in the torchlight. Whatever he was up to, he moved with fairly pressing business in his hooves. If Summer Wind had to guess, he had probably abandoned the party right at the start and had only just now returned for some reason. If so, she thought it was likely that he wouldn't linger for long.

Her great wings bolted her right over to him, nearly flipping a table she buzzed by.

"Humble Herd! Where have you been?" she tried so hard to thread herself between relief and frustration.

Predictably he was startled by her sudden appearance and her raised and tense voice, almost shouting. But like usual he flinched smaller for her than for anypony else.

"Oh! Uh, Summer Wind. Hi. I-I'm just here to make sure t-that our animal friends a-aren't bothered by all this n-noise. That's all. W-We don't do this every n-night, s-so it kinda b-bothers them."

"But what about Fluttershy?" the large pegasus groaned. She threw a hoof at said pony, still tenderly partying by herself in her seat.

"Oh. H-Her. Um..."

Humble Herd could scarcely give more than a glance in Fluttershy's direction before he crumpled in shame and cowardice.

"I-I-I'm not... um... Well, that is to say-..."

"Humble Herd," Summer Wind begged.

"Sh-She seems really great, and I w-wish I had courage like her; w-when sh-she stepped up and introduced th-the bell moths and everything... I'm... r-really happy there's s-somepony else who c-cares about the animals l-like that, too. B-But... I would n-never be any g-good for her."

An utterly dismal pain came into his eyes when he looked at Summer Wind.

He added, "I mean, just like I-... I wasn't any good for you."

That simple mention of the disaster of a magical experience they had shared caused Summer Wind's freezing shivers to hit her again hard. She pushed her heart down into her stomach to get them to stop.

"Humble Herd," she pleaded, "you have to at least start spending time with Fluttershy if you want to-"

"N-No!" the terrified stallion actually retreated a few steps. "I-It doesn't m-matter anymore, anyway," he said, resigned. "I-It's already over. The r-romance can be left to the p-ponies who are actually good at it. L-Like Sweet Nothing."

"Oh, don't even mention him!" snapped Summer Wind.

"I-I-I-I'm s-sorry!" Humble Herd cowered.

"No, I-"

She swallowed her bitter rage. One of her wings came up, and she tried to get it around her friend softly; to hug him in apology.

"I'm not angry with you."

He ducked out of her wing.

"... Just disappointed...?" he asked very quietly, with his broken stare still lingering on her.

"No!" her voice cracked. "N-No... never, Humble Herd. Never, ever. Just... don't talk like Sweet Nothing is anything good. He-... he doesn't care anything for anypony, except himself."

"Th-that's not true," the other pony meekly objected. "He did t-try to help m-me with Fluttershy."

"What? I doubt that," Summer Wind scoffed.

"I was gonna-... well, I m-mean, because I got assigned to Fl-Fluttershy, I was t-thinking about what I could do to maybe m-make a g-good first imp-impression," Humble Herd embarrassed himself just thinking about his own shameful efforts. "I t-thought maybe-... I mean, I was gonna leave an an-animal in her r-room for her when she f-first got there; you kn-know, a personal f-friend for while she's on the island. M-Maybe Henry, or P-Peter, or Barnabas; they're all v-very friendly. She l-likes animals, s-so... it would have b-been kind of l-like... a p-pet away from h-home, for her."

Summer Wind was pleasantly stunned; not just at the kind gesture, but at the initiative.

"That was a wonderful idea! Why didn't you do that?"

"W-Well, I asked Sweet Nothing," he explained, "a-and he told me that i-it was a b-bad idea. He s-said that leaving a g-gift for her in her room like th-that would look really d-desperate. A-And he k-knows how to please m-mares, so..."

Summer Wind's fiery gaze blasted back over to Rarity's table.

Sweet Nothing had returned, brining trays upon trays of more snacks. Rarity was still secure by Spike's side, but the dark stallion's efforts to ply her were having their usual charming effect. Her merry blushing could still be seen through the veil of the dress she wore.

One of the three gift dresses he had left in her room for her.

The large pegasus' teeth ground together loud enough to spray dust.

She growled back to Humble Herd, "He didn't happen to say anything to you today, did he?"

"T-Today...?"

"Yeah. Offer you an apology?"

Genuinely Humble Herd didn't know what she was talking about.

"For knocking you into the bushes yesterday?" she reminded him.

"Oh," the meek pony remembered.

"N-No. W-Why would he do th-that? I-... I really shouldn't have b-been in his way l-like I was..."

"That son of a-!"

The dark stallion had said that he would apologize. She had traded him a night together to get that apology for Humble Herd, but it had been just another one of his deceitful, self-serving ploys. She should have known! He had stolen Humble Herd's rightful apology, and in the same theft had stolen some of her dignity.

But were his broken words ever going to be worth some broken bones!

Her wings spread huge, like a wasp gesturing in threat, and she started to stomp back towards the party.

"I'm going to rip out his tail and string him up by it!"

Humble Herd bounded up alongside her, too timid to actually try blocking her or holding her back.

"P-Please d-don't!" he implored her as if it were his own tail being threatened. "D-Don't m-make a sc-scene, S-Summer Wind! I-, I don't w-want to c-cause anyp-pony tr-trouble!"

She stopped, but she absolutely boiled in her upset anger.

"Humble Herd! He said he was going to apologize!"

"It d-doesn't m-matter. It w-was my f-fault anyway. I don't w-want an apology, a-and I don't want to b-be trouble for anypony."

"It's not just that! He-! I-!"

She had intended for her little sacrifice to have been no more than a simple trick on Sweet Nothing; something to have baited the dark stallion into doing a nice thing for Humble Herd (which the meeker pony had been owed anyway). Just something small, and secret. She had never wanted it to have been known.

She really had to punch herself to admit it to Humble Herd.

"... I opened my passion for him, so that he would apologize to you."

She had, more or less, effectively ripped off Humble Herd's tail.

He withdrew a step, hurt so badly in some inner place that his legs wobbled and his voice was bound and dragged back into the corners of his throat. Quietly, weakly; he secured his footing, never quite looking Summer Wind in the eyes.

"... I don't want to cause anypony trouble," he at last whispered again.

"Humble Herd, I was just wanted him to-"

"M-Maybe it's really not s-so bad. H-He was the one y-you were p-passionate with be-before I arrived, r-right? I-It's... good for you to t-try it a-again since I know th-that you r-really want-... and-, and h-he can actually-, um... y-you know, with you... a-and I-... I c-can't..."

"Humble Herd... I want to share it with you."

"W-We tried, and I-... I can't do what h-he can d-do to m-make you h-happy."

"He's a-! With him, it doesn't make me happy!"

She could cry and scream at the same time, if only there were nopony around to hear it.

"Humble Herd... you're a better pony than him."

What hurt the worst was that he clearly didn't believe her at all, even if he didn't say a word of it. Like her, he had also spent too many days in miserable thought over what a dear and perfect pony she was, and how she had been so incredibly excited to have shared the ultimate magic of the island with him, and how on that night her opened passion had been welcomed by his open fear and cowardice.

He remembered her crushing disappointment.

He was such a worthless waste of a pony that not even the island's magic had been able to stop him from breaking her heart.

"... Y-You're my b-best fr-friend, Summer Wind," he managed to say, yet his gloom made it sound so dark. "T-The only pony who's b-been my friend. I r-really w-want you to be happy, but I c-can't-... I'm j-just the s-same trouble f-for you as I am for e-everypony. P-Please don't l-let me bother you..."

He ducked back more, and then turned about and began to leave in defeat. He abandoned whatever he had come out to do, heading straight back towards the Passion's Embrace.

"Humble Herd...," Summer Wind called one more broken time.

He paused only to inform her quickly, "It d-doesn't m-matter about Fl-Fluttershy. I al-already told V-Venus and Vesuvius that I-... I c-can't do it, a-and they're assigning s-somepony else for h-her now."

The news of his preemptive surrender – that he wouldn't get to feel all the joy she had been wishing for him and had so faithfully believed he could have earned – slugged her in the chest. Worse, she couldn't keep the painful disappointment off her face.

Humble Herd saw it immediately, and couldn't bare to look at it. He had be right; so terribly right. He scuttled away, neck down and tail between his legs.

If Summer Wind had any voice to give she would have called after him again. Instead it was Gallowayo who sang heartsick words while Summer Wind's feathers scratched at her face to claw the tears off.

She took to the sky, looking for a lonely, remote cloud she could pound the lightning out of, or cry into.

Comments

[Jack Kellar]

Yeesh, talk about a wet flannel.