Growing Pains

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Late Sunday Morning

Starlight trotted quickly down the streets, smiling and nodding to the townsfolk as they passed by. At least today, nobody stopped her with inane congratulations, but she couldn’t help but notice how some of them fell into excited whispers and smiles as she trotted away.

She did her best to ignore it. Twilight had put off her investigation in favor of teaching Spike magic, so the whole affair was unlikely to be resolved anytime soon. She trotted on slightly more quickly towards Sugarcube Corner to place Twilight’s order for three dozen petits-fours-- the Princess of Friendship was also necessarily a Princess of Diplomacy, and she was expecting the Dragon Lord, King Thorax, and a pair of griffon ‘ambassadors’ who were in reality emissaries from the weak and corrupt Griffonstan government of the month.

Starlight was so wrapped up in political ponderings that she almost missed the fact that she had arrived at her destination. She pushed open the door with a distracted air. “CONGRATULATIONS!”

Starlight screamed and toppled head over hoof back out the door. Pinkie put a hoof to her mouth and stared down at her fallen friend. “Too much?”

“Maybe a little,” Starlight said drily. “Help me up.”

Pinkie hauled her back upright and helped dust off her coat. “Anyway, I’m so super happy for you, Starlight!”

“Why? What am I supposed to have done? Why is everypony just walking up and congratulating me?” By the end of her sentence, she was red-faced and almost shouting.

Pinkie flinched back. “Well, I dunno about the rest of the town, but I’m congratulating you because you’re our fiftieth customer today, so you win a prize!”

Starlight took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, deflating. “Oh. I see.” She glanced around. There were an uncomfortable amount of eyes on her. “Should we talk about this inside?”

“Okie-doke!” Pinkie chirped, bouncing back through the door. Starlight cast a last backwards glance at the gawkers, then hurried after her.

When she turned around again, Pinkie was already back at the counter. “So, er, I won,” Starlight said.

“Yep! You got fourth place! The hundreth customer gets third, the two-hundreth gets second, and the first prize--” she cut off suddenly, dropping to a low whisper. “Who gets first prize is a secret, or else anypony might try to just count customers and cheat to the top!”

Starlight blinked. “Okay then. What did I win?”

“I’m glad you asked! Take it away, Gummy!”

The toothless alligator blinked, then fell off the counter, taking with him a rope he held clutched between his jaws. A curtain rose up, though Starlight would swear that it hadn’t been there a moment ago, revealing a small pyramid of orange boxes. “You just won a week’s supply of Hay-a-Roni, the San Flanksisco treat! Plus, a box of cupcakes, and best of all, this!” Pinkie pulled a thin rectangle of gold seemingly out of nowhere.

Starlight took it carefully, turning it over in her magic. “Um, thanks? What is it?”

“Silly! It’s a plot coupon!” Pinkie said.

“Okay, what’s it for?”

Pinkie giggled. “Oh, you’ll know it when you see it,” she said, raising an eyebrow conspiratorially.

“...Right, thanks, Pinkie,” Starlight said, putting the card in her saddlebags. She made a mental note to tell Twilight that Pinkie was being more Pinkie than usual today. “Anyway, I came to place an order…”

Pinkie glanced out the plate-glass window as Starlight spoke, distracted by a sudden burst of motion across the street. Sweetie Belle seemed to be doing some kind of dance with flags, waving them and staring intently down the street.

“Pinkie? Are you listening?”

“Three boxes of petits-fours, one chocolate, one with honey glaze, one with assorted crushed gemstones, to be delivered to the castle at ten in the morning next Thursday,” Pinkie rattled back automatically, still watching as Sweetie Belle stowed her flags and sat back down on the bench.

Starlight blinked. “Oh. Yes. Good. So how much will that be?”

Pinkie looked back at her and smiled. “Fifteen bits, please.”

Starlight hoofed over the money and left, still slightly shaken. Pinkie could be a little unnerving on occasion. The rest of the time, she was downright disconcerting. She trotted down the road towards Quills and Sofas, electing to focus on the errands she still had to run rather than those that had already been completed.

So distracted was she that she didn’t even notice that a silver-grey colt had begun to follow her down the road, occasionally flashing covert signals towards the Ponyville clock tower…

***

Button squinted through the binoculars. “Okay… he’s blinking fast. And he flicked his ear.”

Dinky scanned the translation guide. “Ugh. Typical. Even when he’s three blocks away, he still complains about his job.”

“I wouldn’t have complained,” Button said.

“You weren’t subtle enough in the trial, we’ve been over this.”

“Aw, c’mon, it was one mistake!”

“Not only did Berry Punch-- your target-- notice you after you tripped over thin air, she came back to put a band-aid on your scraped hoof.”

Button grinned and glanced down at said bandage. “Isn’t it great? I didn’t even know they made band-aids with little pink elephants on them!”

“Just watch for more signals,” Dinky sighed.

Button put the binoculars back up to his eyes. “Oh no! He’s in the middle of one right now and I didn’t catch the start!”

Dinky rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder if there’s a lesson to be learned here.”

“Don’t worry, Dinky, I’ll fix it!” Button waved his hooves wildly. “RUMBLE! HEY, RUMBLE! RUMBLE, HEEEEEYYY! WE DIDN’T SEE THAT- urk!”

Dinky glared at the colt. His mouth was trapped in a very tight golden glow. “Button. Accidents will happen. I’m sure it was just Rumble griping again and you missed nothing of any importance. So sit down and stop being such a, a brain-dead puddinghead, alright!”

Button gave a muffled reply. “I’ll assume that was an agreement,” Dinky said coolly, releasing her grip on her friend’s jaw. “What’s he saying now?”

Button stared through the binoculars again. “Nothing… nothing… Oh, head-scratch! No, never mind, a leaf blew into his mane.”

“This job sucks,” Dinky remarked.

Button frowned. “Hey!”

“No, that’s the code for leaf-in-the-mane,” Dinky said. “In retrospect, we shouldn’t have let him make up his own code-movements. How much longer until Starlight falls into the trap and we can get down from here?”

“After the Boutique, I think,” Button said, turning slightly to track Rumble’s path. “I hope Scootaloo and Apple Bloom are getting along okay.”

***

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Scootaloo said, putting down her roll of duct tape.

Apple Bloom glared at her. “Ta get Spike ta confess he’s in love with Starlight Glimmer, o’ course!” she snapped. “Ain’t you got th’ brains y’all were born with?”

Scootaloo scowled back. “Okay then, Miss Genius, explain to the featherhead who found this room that fits your exacting demands, how this is going to do that.”

Apple Bloom attempted to imitate Rarity’s beatbox scoff and failed miserably. “We get Starlight in here first, right? She can’t get back out ‘cause th’ doors are locked an’ we got th’ anti-magic crystals Dinky, uh, ‘liberated’ from Twi’s castle.”

“Fine. Next?”

“We letl Spike know that Starlight’s gone missing somewhere after th’ Boutique. He’ll come a-lookin’ for her.”

“And he’ll look in here… why, exactly?”

“We mess up th’ ground, make it look like a struggle happened right outside that-there door.” She pointed with a hoof to the door in the back of the boiler room, the one that led outside to the back of the building. “He comes in, th’ door locks behind ‘em, an’ they’re stuck like canned tofu!”

“Okay. All that works. But then what? They’re just stuck in here! How do we get them to come out, and where does Applejack even come into all this?”

Eye-roll. Heavy, southern, sigh. “We tell Applejack that Spike an’ Starlight are trapped an’ the door key’s bin lost, so she needs ta come break th’ door down an’ save them. They all hug an’ say how much they’re all in love an’ ev’rypony around sees ‘em. All live happily ever after, the end. Got it?”

Scootaloo scratched her head. “I still don’t see why we can’t just tell them we know about their relationship and ask them to stop hiding their love.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes darted away for a split second as she thought up a good reason. Ironically enough, living with the former Element of Honesty was just the regimen needed to make a consummate liar. “Uh, well, what kinda fun would that be? Anyhow, then we couldn’t get our foalnapper cutie marks!”

“Oh!” Scootaloo lit up. “Why didn’t you say so? C’mon, these magic-absorbing crystals aren’t gonna stick themselves in various hidden crevisses!”

Apple Bloom heaved a quiet sigh of relief. Just like with Applejack, the best way to hide a lie was to make it mostly the truth. She’d follow the plan, go tell Applejack that that cheating lizard an’ his meddlesome hussy were stuck fast. Whether her sister chose to rescue them and catch them together (probably makin’ out, all wanton an’ suchlike) or to engage in a little petty revenge, Apple Bloom would be fine with her decision. She smirked to herself, sticking an anti-magic crystal into the keyhole of the door leading inside the building proper. This had to be a public thing, too, so the whole town could see the cheaters confronted. She had to hoof it to Scootaloo, the new Neightalian restaurant was the perfect place to stage this plan…

***

Fluttershy waded through the chittering scurry of squirrels, casting nuts and berries in wide arcs as she made her way back towards her cottage. “Now, now, no more of this,” she scolded gently when the beaver colony approached her with wide, puppydog eyes. “You’ve all eaten already. I have to go inside and finish up my refitting before tonight. It shouldn’t take me more than a half-hour, and then I’ll be back outside, alright?”

The crowd of animals slowly dispersed, leaving the path up to the cottage free to traverse. Fluttershy gave a small smile, then hurried up to the door. She stopped, however, when a robin flapped frantically over, chirping like mad and hovering in front of her face.

“Oh, dear. You’re quite sure?”

The robin continued to cheep hysterically. Fluttershy frowned and looked around. “Angel Bunny, there you are!”

The white rabbit glanced up and stared at his mistress suspiciously. “I need to help rebuild some nests out in Whitetail Woods. You’re in charge while I’m gone, alright?”

Angel stood up straight and threw a passable salute. “Good. I’ll be back soon.”

The rabbit watched Fluttershy hurry after the robin out of the yard, then tossed his carrot aside. Responsibility could get stuffed and mounted. He was going to enjoy the benefits of this little gig.

Angel made his way into the kitchen and up onto the counter, shooing away a richness of martins that had settled there. He gazed at the distance between the refrigerator and himself, crouched, and with a mighty leap, he flung himself forwards, grabbing on for dear life to the towel that hung from the fridge door and kicking back off the nearest foothold. The door swung open as Angel dropped to the floor once more.

He knelt for a moment before looking up at the bright glare of the icebox. Cookies and sandwiches, leftover hay fries, pickles, ketchup, jars of jelly, chocolate chips… He gazed up and licked his lips. There was no earthly way to choose what to eat first.

A casual observer might have been rather startled to see what seemed to be a ball of junk food waddling out of the kitchen on furry little white feet, heading for the parlor. Angel set down on the couch and pulled out a GameColt. Before long, he was enraptured by the game, stuffing his little face with fresh popcorn.

Meanwhile, the flock of martins that he’d displaced from the kitchen elected to settle elsewhere. They fluttered upstairs to Fluttershy’s bedroom, where one of them made a nest. Surely she’d not miss the bits of fabric and string lying on the table. Surely.

***

Meanwhile, back at the Castle of Friendship, Spike and Twilight were busily reorganizing the dungeons. It had come as a shock to both of them, as well as their friends, that the Tree of Harmony had supplied them with a place to lock up criminals. The purpose of some of the other artefacts down there had caused even more alarm. Pinkie had wasted no time submitting a request to convert the whole place into a fun-geon instead, and Twilight had been more than happy to allow her half the space to do so. The rest had been reserved for her own private mad-science laboratory.

This would probably have been more effective if Twilight had thought to specify which half Pinkie would be allowed. The eccentric mare had chosen to redecorate every other cell, which tended to make running experiments or throwing parties somewhat problematic affairs. After all, no party-goer wants to accidentally open the door to the timelash experiment when drunk, and no scientist wants to reach for a scalpel and find a cake knife instead. Also, lemonade and sulfuric acid can look astonishingly similar in dim light, as Twilight found out the hard way. Thankfully, it was only her experiment that was ruined, and not somepony’s stomach, but she decided to put an end to any future use of the fun-geon, and simply converted the place into storage space.

She had chosen this room for Spike’s training for a number of reasons. It was dark, so the light spell could be seen better; she had a variety of magic-proofing devices down here, including the remnants of Sombra’s magic-inhibitor crystals; and if something did go wrong during her lesson, she’d rather it be old junk that was incinerated than her nice furniture and books upstairs.

She hummed a little bit to herself as she finished setting the anti-magic crystals in an arc around Spike. She cast a glance at her little brother. He had become oddly reserved ever since they had entered the fun-geon, and even now he was staring sulkily at the paper target that Twilight had taped to the wall, surrounded by a hooffull of more magic-inhibitors. “Something the matter, Spike?”

He shrugged once, then lapsed back into stillness. Twilight hesitated in the middle of laying the next crystal. “You know, we can do this somewhere else, if you want. Or we can start with a different spell, maybe a modification of your teleportation? Would that make you feel better about this?”

Spike gave a slightly dismissive huff. “I just-- dunno about all this.” He waved a claw at the crystals around him. “I mean, is all this even necessary?”

Twilight glanced around the room. Pointy spikes of crystal jutted out from every surface in geometric patterns. “Ah. I take your point,” she agreed, crossing one foreleg behind the other awkwardly. “But beginners to studying magic tend to have… surges. Like the one that hatched you!”

“And turned me into a colossus,” Spike muttered.

“And turned mom and dad into plants, exactly,” Twilight agreed. “And that was when I was young and still growing into spellcasting. I mean, I had way more power then than a lot of other foals, but you see why I might take a few precautions for you? If it’ll make you feel better though, I’ll take them back down. I want you to feel comfortable, Spike. These lessons are all about you.”

Spike looked at Twilight’s earnest expression for a long moment, then glanced back at the crystals arranged around the room. The worst part was, she meant what she said. Every word. She really did want to make him feel better, but she had no idea that her little reminder about the near-catastrophe during her admissions test only served to make his stomach twist around his heart. “No,” he said at length. “Keep them. If it makes you feel safe, it makes me feel safe. But, uh, won’t it make hitting the target with the light spell a lot harder?”

“Not really. The weaker the spell is, the less they tend to try and absorb it. Think of it like magnetic attraction. If two magnets are sufficiently weak and far away, they won’t attract.”

Spike nodded. “Like an Auric Hoof-trap. If you pull harder, you just get stuck tighter, but if you ease out…”

Twilight coughed. “Well, that’s not a… wholly inaccurate analogy, I suppose.” She looked flustered, and Spike grinned. He knew she hadn’t forgotten the day in fifth grade she’d spent frantically trying to un-trap her hooves from the fiendish little device. Perhaps it was a little schadenfreude, but her sudden embarrassment served only to bolster him.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said.

Twilight recovered her composure. “Good. Now, remember what I explained about focusing on the light. Don’t worry about size or brightness right now, we’ll work on control later. Just look at the target, think about light, and breathe.”

Spike inhaled deeply. If he was gonna do this, he was going to make the biggest, brightest light he could. He blew out, and the green flame grew and expanded like bubblegum. Twilight blinked and raised a hoof to shield her eyes from the light and the heat. Wait. Heat? “Spike, no!”

It was too late. Spike released the bubble, and it went soaring towards the wall, striking it with a faint thump and a wash of heat. Twilight screwed her eyes tight against the brightness. When she opened them again, the wall was covered in soot, and the area Spike had hit had melted somewhat. Even the inhibitor crystals around the splash zone had turned into lumps of blackened flux. For a long moment, they both just stared at the wall, faces both ashen and ashy, mouths agape. Spike raised a claw and pointed. “Erk,” was his eloquent observation.

Twilight’s mouth snapped open and shut like a briefcase for a few seconds before she recovered herself. “That was… very good for a first try. Next time, Spike, I want you to think more about light without heat, like fireflies.”

“Gak,” Spike continued.

“I suppose those crystals were meant to contain pony magic rather than dragonflame,” Twilight soldiered on. “That must be it. I’ll have to run a few tests on some of them, research what can inhibit dragon magic…” she trailed off, staring at Spike’s unresponsive face. She sighed and patted him on the head. “Here’s five bits. Go buy an ice-cream or something.”

Spike nodded, still numb from shock. He took the proffered bits, then marched out the door like a wind-up soldier. Twilight watched him go. “Good job today!” she called, half-desperate.

No reply. Twilight stared at the wall. It was still glowing faintly, and a slight acrid smell was in the air. She sat down heavily. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” she muttered, casting a freezing spell on the hot crystal.

Then, her brow furrowed, and she glanced around at the magic-absorbing crystals. The magic-absorbing crystals which, by all rights, should have slurped up her magic like so much spaghetti. She picked one up in her aura, something which should have been downright impossible. “Fakes,” she breathed. “But I checked them yesterday! Who could have switched them out--”

She stopped, recalling Dinky Doo explaining how she was trying to get her cutie mark in geology, carting along a large pile of what looked like dull, grey rocks. Twilight set her jaw and threw the useless stone to the floor. Clearly, she was going to need to have a talk with Ditzy Doo about her daughter…

***

Angel made his way to level five in his game, a half-eaten brownie hanging from his mouth as he stared, glazed, at the screen. His paws tapped quickly on the buttons, only occasionally pausing to grab another bite to eat off the pile. He was coming up to a gang of enemies. Piece of cake. He just had to jump them at the right second, and being a rabbit, jumping came to him naturally. Not yet… not yet…

A loud huff broke the bunny’s focus. He glanced up, and saw Harry the Bear looking at him. He turned back to the game but it was too late. His character was overrun by monsters. Game over.

Angel hurled the game to the ground with a scream of undiluted lagomorph rage, then turned on the bear. He hurled himself at Harry, whaling away at the bear’s thick, hairy legs. Harry looked at him, startled, but let the rabbit vent his fury.

After a couple moments, Angel had worn himself out. He stepped back and looked Harry in the eye. He had to lean back quite a lot to do so, but the bear was obliging enough to lower his bulk closer to the ground. Angel glared and tapped his foot impatiently.

Harry whined softly and gestured to the stairs.

Angel gave a tight scowl. He was not fond of his private time being interrupted. On the other paw, if there was a legitimate problem while the cottage was under his command, he might never get to reign in here again. He sighed and hopped quickly to the stairs, Harry plodding along behind him.

At the top, he glanced around. Nothing was burning, nor was there blood, or intruders, or even broken glass. He glowered at the bear and tried to hop back downstairs, but Harry gave a warning growl and nodded to Fluttershy’s bedroom.

This was enough to give the rabbit pause. Poking the bear was one thing, but his Mistress was a horse of a different color. Even beyond saving his own skin, he hated to see Fluttershy upset. So, with his luckiest foot forward, he kicked open the door. Birds fluttered around the room, the same ones he’d frightened away earlier. They seemed to be busily constructing nests out of fabric. Angel scratched his head. He might not want the birds in there, but he doubted Fluttershy would have such qualms. He turned to Harry once more. The bear groaned and rolled his eyes, then nodded at the table. The table with the suit. The suit that Fluttershy had been refitting to wear tonight. The suit that was now little more than scraps of navy cloth and thread and occasional bird doings.

Angel went grey. Then, quickly recovering himself, he leapt up on the table and gave the loudest scream that a rabbit could, thumping his feet to wake the dead. Of course, given that he only weighed about as much as two apples, that wasn’t as loud or menacing as he would’ve liked. However, he did have something of a reputation around the cottage. The birds, wisely, fled.

Angel made a rude gesture at the retreating flock. Then, he turned to examine the room in greater detail. They had been everywhere. Nests on the bed, in the eaves, on the lamp, scraps of fabric torn and scattered like horrible, day-ruining confetti. Angel set his head in his paws and took in a deep breath. Alright. This could be fixed, probably. He just needed some time…

He looked up. Fluttershy was coming up the path. Silently, he cursed the fates, then frantically glanced around the desk. He needed a way to fix this, or else a way to stall for time. He fixed upon a piece of thick paper that had been placed on the desk some two days ago. He seized it and hopped out the door, much to Harry’s disapproval. Angel all but flew down the stairs and met Fluttershy as she was coming in. “Oh, goodness, Angel. You startled me.”

He was the absolute picture of cringing apology, all but bowing and scraping. Was she alright, how was her trip, was she feeling tired?

Fluttershy frowned. “Angel? Is something the matter?”

What? No. Nonononono. He shook his head vigorously.

Fluttershy fluffed out her wings, scrutinizing him closely. Then, she winced and arched her back like a cat. “Goodness, I must have overdone it today,” she said. “All the bending down for sticks hasn’t been very good for my back.”

That was all the cue Angel needed. In an instant, he produced the free massage coupon, shoving it in Fluttershy’s face. She blinked and went cross-eyed as she tried to read it, taking it from the rabbit’s paw. “A massage does sound nice,” she admitted. Upstairs, the floor creaked as the bear shifted his weight. Fluttershy frowned and glanced at the ceiling. Angel leaned over and tapped the coupon again, then pointed as his chest with his best I’ll-take-care-of-this-no-need-to-worry face.

Fluttershy gave Angel a firm gaze, not quite a Stare, but something which suggested that could be in the immediate future. “Angel Bunny, you wouldn’t be hiding something from me, would you?”

The rabbit shook his head rapidly, then put his paws together and twisted his ears into a halo. Fluttershy quirked up her lips. “Okay, then. I’ll be back in an hour and a half, so you can use that time to clean up… whatever mess you haven’t made.”

The rabbit gave her a bright, plastic smile and waved a paw in farewell and dismissal. She gave him a knowing half-smile, then trotted out the door. His smile turned queasy, then dropped altogether as he spun and ran upstairs. He had ninety minutes to learn how to sew.

Comments

[Mother3Forever]

Angel Bunny, you wouldn’t be hiding something from me, would you?”

The rabbit shook his head rapidly, then put his paws together and twisted his ears into a halo. Fluttershy quirked up her lips. “Okay, then. I’ll be back in an hour and a half, so you can use that time to clean up… whatever mess you haven’t made.”

lol. Flutters knows that rabbit too well.

[Coyote de La Mancha]

“Silly! It’s a plot coupon!” Pinkie said.

“Okay, what’s it for?”

Pinkie giggled. “Oh, you’ll know it when you see it,” she said, raising an eyebrow conspiratorially.

*look of horror*
Gods below. A plot coupon. What... have you done?

[Valtyrian]

Meanwhile, the flock of martens that he’d displaced from the kitchen elected to settle elsewhere. They fluttered upstairs to Fluttershy’s bedroom, where one of them made a nest. Surely she’d not miss the bits of fabric and string lying on the table. Surely.

this have only one issue with this chapter. I'm kinda curious as to how martens are flying...

A marten is a mammal similar to a weasel.
the word you want to use is is martin. which is a bird similar to a swallow

[Sixes_And_Sevens]

10042513
Fixed. Thanks for the catch!