Up From the Wilderness

by Cynewulf

VII. Daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, what shall you tell him?

It was late when Rainbow Dash landed on Twilight’s porch.

It was still a little weird, thinking of Twilight living anywhere but the library. But that was what came with marrying an Apple, she guessed. Gosh. How long has it been? Three years? Four? I can’t believe I don’t know right off the top of my head.

It felt like an eternity, however long it had been since the fateful wedding. Since the incident, and the maze in the darkness. She almost expected her wings to act up again at just the thought of it. She had come out of that nightmare scarred. She’d been lucky. Very lucky.

How would she begin? What would she say? “Have you ever wondered if you used up enough luck for both of you?” “Isn’t it crazy how we both end up almost crippled? It’s like fate.”

Mostly, she just wanted to see Twilight again. The last time they’d hung out was… She couldn’t really remember, which meant it had been far too long.

At any rate, Rainbow Dash found herself standing awkwardly before the door, wondering if barging in like old times wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Things were simpler when she could just fly recklessly through the window, crash into the bedroom wall, roll down the stairs, and say hello from the bottom of them. Certainly she worried about far less during those days.

She knocked.

It was Macintosh that answered the door after a moment. He towered over Rainbow, a silent behemoth. When he saw who it was coming to his door this late, he frowned.

“Evenin’,” he said.

“Hey,” Rainbow said. “Uh… Twilight home?”

Macintosh shook his head hesitantly. “Nope. Working on something at the library. Told me she’d be back tomorrow.” He looked her over, and Rainbow felt even more awkward. “What’d you need? I might could help ya.”

“No… I mean, I’m fine. Just… flying around,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you later.” Rainbow winced. Stars, that was lame.

But Macintosh didn’t seem to mind that much, however, for he nodded. “You have a good night, Rainbow,” he said, and then the door closed.

She stood there, staring for another moment, before shaking her head and taking to the sky. Once airborne, she glanced at the little device on her right foreleg. “Hey, wake up,” she said quietly, and it did. The runestone on the watch-like apparatus glowed bright blue and then it was a watch, displaying that it was finally midnight. She sighed.

Twilight would still be up, of course. If she was working, then she would be working all night. She could see it now--stacks of books and old archival scrolls, a few dozen spare quills and untold plentitude of coffee. She was familiar with habits of the late-night laborer. She had been sleeping in one’s bed for a few years now, after all.

But Rarity was sleeping. At least, she had been when Rainbow had left. With luck, she would still be that way. If not… Rainbow could always say she’d felt like a moonlit flight. From time to time, every pegasus needed to fly the insomnia away.

She landed at the doorstep of Twilight’s other home. The library in the nighttime was strange, a towering, twisting titan. Inside, the warm candlelight gave only vague clues to the interior, but Rainbow didn’t need to see. She knew it well.

Carefully, she opened the door, hoping Twilight wasn’t fried from her egghead-work and hadn’t put anything important in harm’s way. Rainbow Dash learned her lesson after Twilight put a stack of books two ponies high by the door and it had about crushed Pinkie. At least the midnight snacks she’d brought had made it. Bothering a pony writing her thesis on Thaumaturgy built a strong appetite.

Inside, she found the main room immaculate. No stacks, no papers or diagrams or left behind snacks. No Twilight, either. Just a few candles in their sconces.

Rainbow Dash frowned. “Twilight?” she called, trying not to be too loud. If Twilight was sleeping, she would just punt and try again. Most of her found that prospect appealing. Putting off unpleasantness was something Rainbow had gotten very good at. Didn’t want to waste time on non-urgent weather work? Take a nap and do it all right at the end of the day. No big deal. Twilight wasn’t around to have a heart to heart with? Just forget about it.

But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t just forget about it. When Twilight had locked eyes with her across the table at Sugarcube, they both knew that this night was coming. They needed to talk. There were things that a pony couldn’t just let alone. They had to be answered or questioned or something.

Twilight was her friend. Since the day she’d first walked into this town, irritable and a bit unfriendly, Rainbow had liked her. Against all odds, the absent egghead had been the companion who had kept them all together. They’d written a lot of letters to Celestia together, all of their friends, in this great collection of books and lore. Rainbow just wanted a chance to talk. Friends shouldn’t have to look like that at one another. Friendship wasn’t supposed to have anything like fear in it.

“Twilight?”

Her voice echoed lightly through the library, and she sighed again. Time to search the place.

She walked to the back and found the door down to the archives. If Twilight was going to be anywhere working, she would be down among the scrolls and dusty grimoires that had accumulated over the years, the collected interests of a dozen librarians before Twilight.

The steps down were lit by more candles, which gave Rainbow a bit of hope. Twilight had to have come this way, at least.

At the bottom of the stairs, there was a maze of shelves in the dark. Light from the other side of the large chamber lit them just enough to be seen. Rainbow Dash strained to see, but the shelves were in the way. But Twilight would be there, no doubt slumped over a desk. Carefully, she walked through the labyrinth, past monoliths of lore in the black, hearing her own hoofsteps reverberate in the cavernous basement. There would be no sneaking, no quiet entrance.

At last, she emerged on the other side to find Twilight sitting in a chair at a desk, as she had expected. A candle sat on next to a pile of papers. All along the wall, Rainbow saw pictures spread out, tacked in place in a web with commentary scrawled on spare pages.

“Working on the book,” Rainbow said quietly.

Twilight, who had been staring down at her hooves, continued to do so. “Yeah.”

Rainbow stepped forward and looked at a few of the snapshots. A ghost of a smile crept into her face bit by bit. “Hey, I remember a few of these places. This ruin… whatever it’s called. The one you almost fell off the edge of that wall.”

“Ravenna,” Twilight said flatly.

“Yeah, raven place.”

“Why are you here, Rainbow?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Twilight shifted, but Rainbow kept looking at the pictures. “Rainbow… look, you don’t have to pretend like we’re okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not okay, I get it. I know we’re not. It’s all my fault.”

“Gonna have to be a little less vague over there, egghead.”

Twilight groaned. “Rainbow… I know Rarity hates me. I know you’re not happy either. This whole… this whole mess was because of me and my stupid dissertation and it’s all my fault and--”

Rainbow finally turned. “Twilight. Twilight, chill.”

Twilight stopped and sniffed. “Look, I’m just saying you don’t have to come pretend like we can just forget.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

Twilight looked down at the ground.

But Rainbow did not let her escape. She stepped forward, lifting Twilight’s chin so that their eyes met again. “Twilight… we’re friends. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I got you to come along. If you hadn’t been there…”

“Then maybe they would have taken you,” Rainbow said. “I don’t know. But you dying isn’t much better, Twi. Is that what you think we wish happened?”

“Not exactly.”

“Good, because I don’t regret going. It would have been so much worse for me to not go and something happen to you. You’re my friend, Twilight.”

Twilight wilted. “But… But Rarity…”

“Rarity isn’t mad, Twilight.”

“She should be.”

“Maybe.” Rainbow shrugged, and then sat beside Twilight’s chair. “Look… hey, look at me, alright? There, see? Do I look mad? I don’t, and I’m not. I’m worried. I’m sad, because yeah, this whole thing sucks.”

“It’s just… first with the wedding, and then with the expedition… maybe you two would be happier, would have had a better life, if I just never befriended you. I just keep hurting you and there’s nothing I can do.”

“Fluttershy has a lot more of the share for the blame with the wedding,” Rainbow said softly. “But have I ever blamed you for that wedding? No, because you didn’t call down crazy magic whatever-the-hell that was. You didn’t suck us into that other place. You were as much a victim as we were.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Twilight said, forcefully. “I wasn’t supposed to be a burden on you. That’s not what friends do, Rainbow.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Rainbow replied. “Look, Twi, what are friends for if not to lean on? Yeah, Rarity was really pissed before she left. It’s true. I mean, yeah, I was kinda pissed when they were carrying me off. But that was then, and I was way more pissed off at them than you. You tried to help.”

Twilight groaned. “Even if you say she doesn’t blame me, I blame me. Maybe she should blame me.”

“Twilight…”

“What if she doesn’t walk again, Rainbow? What are we going to do? How am I ever going to talk to her again, even… even look at her again, knowing that because I wasn’t careful enough, I stole that from her. I stole walking and dancing and…”

Twilight slumped out of the chair and Rainbow caught her, hugging her tightly. “We don’t blame you. It’s not your fault. It’s their fault. You can’t control what happens, Twilight… sh, hey. Hey, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to run away like that.”

Twilight shivered. “I just want her to walk again. Maybe, maybe if she can walk again, it’ll be okay. I can look her in the eyes again, Rainbow.”

And Rainbow Dash awkwardly held Twilight and thought that she could say the same herself.

Author's Note:

Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you—
if you find my beloved,
what will you tell him?
Tell him I am faint with love.