Ch. 18 - Moving On
The Traveling Tutor and the Librarian
Moving On
Eyes nearly shut and ears folded flat against his head, Green Grass waited for the inevitable bolt of unicorn power to strike him down. Spike was less concerned, simply turning the page on his book with the occasional glance at the frightened stallion.
Finally a shuffling noise heralded the arrival of Twilight Sparkle into his visual perception, moving glacially around the side of the couch and crawling half-way onto it before bumping into Green Grass. “Scoot down, wouldja please?”
Despite feeling as if he were dislocating a hip, the tutor did indeed ‘scoot’ or more correctly ‘managed to move partway down the couch without dying,’ allowing the sluggish unicorn to get her whole body up on the couch. With a groan of pain, Twilight dropped her head on Green Grass’ shoulder and mumbled, “Just kill me now.”
“Did you drink your medicine, Twilight?” asked Spike. After a minute with no answer, the little dragon hopped off his stool and vanished upstairs, returning with a full glass of the gluey liquid. “Are you going to drink your medicine now, Twilight?”
“Don’ wanna. It’s icky.”
Spike exchanged a knowing glance with Green Grass and asked, “So do you want to hold her nose or pour the stuff down her throat?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” One purple eye opened up to glare at Spike with the thermal intensity of a flickering firefly.
“I’ll hold her nose,” volunteered Green Grass. “Just gimmie a minute, I’m kind of stuck.”
“All right! All right!” moaned Twilight, as the little dragon tilted the glass up for her, holding it in place until the whole contents were gone. “Icky!” she muttered with a short cough that made her wince in pain before dropping her head back on Green Grass’ shoulder and drooling.
“Twilight, I told you I’m sorry for loading your cocoa mug up with Applejack’s bottles. I didn’t realize they were alcoholic until Green Grass told me this morning.” He busied himself taking the empty glasses to the kitchen before returning to the book again, mumbling, “You could have told me earlier, but no.”
“Traitor,” mumbled Twilight, opening one eye to glare at the little dragon as he hopped back up on his chair. “Traitors. Both of you.” She prodded Green Grass with one hoof, either trying to cause pain or fluffing his shoulder up to be more comfortable, the intent was not obvious. “What are you doing in my house, anyway.”
“Dragging you back home after your night out on the town,” said Green Grass with a painful yawn.
“Liar,” mumbled Twilight, turning as to rest her sharp little chin on his shoulder, but with both eyes still closed. “Passed out with telescope. Staggered to bed. Woke up in bed.”
For a moment, Green Grass seriously considered telling the truth about last night before giving it up as a bad idea. “If you say so.”
“I’m sorry, Twilight,” said Spike with a sigh. “You must have gone staggering out into the town last night. When I got up this morning, your astronomy stuff was all scattered around the balcony, the front door was wide open, and you were gone. I dashed over to Green Grass’ house to look for you and found the two of you were... um... vocal?”
Both of Twilight Sparkle’s eyes snapped open and Green Grass could feel her entire body tremble, her breath coming in short pants. “Oh no? It wasn’t another dream?”
Another dream? She’s had others?
The purple unicorn burst out of the Misconception, running right into a Wild Speculation and headed straight for a Logical Cliff, complete with Pouring Tears and Hyperventilation. “I knew this would happen when I let my guard down and I talked to Princess Celestia about it too and she said I would know when the time was right to give myself to a stallion but she didn’t say anything about being drunk and now I’m going to have a cute little foal which is terrible! But a little wonderful too and we’ll have to get married quick before my brother finds out and the Princess will have to send me away from the scandal and I’ll have to live with you in that little trailer as we go from town to town with our love foal where everypony can see the result of our night of unbridled passion. We could call her Passion Fruit, or would that be too obvious? How about Clover or Kumquat? Pinkie Pie would like that and we’re going to need a foalsitter and she’s really discreet about—”
Even though it felt as if his shoulder would snap off like a twig, Green Grass managed to hold a hoof over Twilight’s mouth and stop, or at least muffle her babbling.
“No. Stop it. We didn’t do anything.” The look of relief she shot him made butterflies seem to flutter in his chest.
“Nothing?” Once released from his hold, her voice dripped with relief, but it sounded suspiciously as if there was a tiny shred of regret somewhere in the back.
“Almost nothing. You tried to kiss me. And... um... you tickled me, searching for your ‘wings.’”
Twilight glanced back at her flanks as rapidly as if a set of wings curled up there had suddenly and unexpectedly fluttered. All the tension she had trapped in her body seemed to go out in a giant breath as she dropped her head back on his shoulder, sharp chin first. “You were right,” she mumbled. “I need a keeper. I’m crazy.”
He hesitated before putting a foreleg over her and giving her a painful but gentle hug⁽*⁾, which she returned in a soft but gentle way that probably hurt just as much. “So what was your dream about with Luna?” she asked with one inquisitive eye peeking out from behind his shoulder while keeping him pinned to the couch with her weight.
(*) Twilight’s mother would have only given his hug a C-, with extra credit points for good intentions, and would have assigned additional homework.
—
Thus trapped, he was forced to repeat his experience (with Twilight’s clarifying commentary) about what it felt like to be on the moon, with the muted colors of the craters (volcanic basalt) and sparkling rays extending from them (impact polymict breccias), along with the strange conversation he had with the Princess of the Night. Although she did not immediately have Spike dash off a letter to Princess Celestia seeking sibling clarification for the conversation, he had a sneaky suspicion that somewhere in the back of her mind, there were a few brain cells carefully marking down ‘Dear Princess Celestia...’
She returned the favor by regaling him with the story of how she had followed him and his parents around unconsciously while using a book of social responses to handle any conversations. The two of them agreed that it probably would be a bad idea to spread that around or all of the major social gatherings would eventually copy the routine, making every Canterlot event even more banal, if possible. He told her about his Running of the Leaves fiasco, she told him about her encounter with wasabi and ‘apple juice,’ and they both laughed, although with pained restraint.
The tension and awkwardness of the last few days just seemed to stream out of each of them, as if the hangover recipe contained some sort of truth serum, or their individual hangovers and sore muscles simply made it too painful to flee each other’s presence. They stayed curled up on the couch for what seemed like hours while Spike read his book, and brought them soup and sandwiches, only breaking up the cuddle when they had begun apologizing for things that had already been apologized for multiple times already, and the physical effects of major liquid consumption gave the inevitable result (and the library had only one bathroom).
They talked again once the embarrassing bathroom break was concluded, and by mutual consent afterwards they both hobbled over to the spa for an emergency boiling, stomping, and soaking⁽¹⁾ which left them feeling almost social again. By that time, Green Grass had appointments with his students, and Twilight fairly floated back into the library with an intense expression that boded ill for some unfortunate, unsuspecting problem.
(1) Technically that would be a Sauna, Massage, and Whirlpool.
—
“Spike. I’m going to need the following books...”
* * *
“I’m sorry, Mr. Green Grass. I just can’t concentrate.” Sweetie Belle looked at the book the tutor was holding open in front of her and poked a hoof sadly at the geometric shape that was supposed to assist in her concentration. “Not even sparks.”
“That’s fine, Sweetie Belle. How about if you try focusing on this one?” Green Grass flipped through the book to another figure and held it up.
“We did that one already.”
“Oh. Well how about this one then?”
“We did that one too. I think we used every focus symbol in that whole book, and I still can’t do sparks.”
“Okay. Let’s take a five minute break and try again.” The tutor wandered over to where Rarity was attempting to pick out the lines of a hem while his student bounded off to the boutique kitchen where her two little friends were making sandwiches.
“I do know how difficult my sister can be, but you simply must keep trying,” said Rarity, her attention seemingly riveted by a line of thin stitching she was ripping out. “I’ve been at this exact same point with her training several times, and it can be quite frustrating. Speaking of frustrating, how was your little outing at the spa with Twilight? Ahh, I can see you blushing.”
Indeed it was quite impossible for Green Grass to keep from smiling at the recent memory, a happiness which was only slightly blunted by the wedding dress that Rarity was working on, and a small collection of newborn clothes in shades of purple and green partially hidden under a nearby covering. He shook his head and tried to turn the conversation back to his pupil. They had exhausted every study aid and focus tool in his collection, and he still felt no closer to breaking through the filly’s mental reserves than before. Unless he was going about this entirely the wrong way.
Turning back to Rarity with a thoughtful expression, he asked, “You’re her sister, you should be able to tell me. Is there anything that she does that she really enjoys that I could use to get through to her?”
“Oh heavens, yes!” bubbled Rarity, sticking her sewing tools back on the shelf and smiling broadly as if she had been waiting for the question. “She just loves to go out collecting leaves with her favorite botany book, and on occasion she will even skirt the edge of the Everfree Forest to get rare specimens. It seems to be quite a fascination with her; she can simply talk for hours about genus and species until you think your ears will just fall right off. You should go with her some evening. It could be quite romantic.”
It took Green Grass a moment to shift mental gears, and he stopped himself before he could facehoof. “Not Twilight! Your sister.”
“Oh.” The fashionista picked her sewing back up rather cautiously and began picking at the seam again. “No, my sister has never been one for botany, although she did bring home a slug one day that one of her classmates caught, and wanted to keep it as a pet. I made her take it back. Dreadful things, slugs.”
Deciding that an inversion of tactics was needed, Green Grass asked, “So, does she do anything that really bothers you?”
“Just one thing?” Rarity looked rather thoughtful, while surrounded by her sewing tools. It seemed strange that Sweetie Belle had such problems with her talent when her sister Rarity had it in such abundance; it took a talented unicorn to levitate more than one thing at a time. Although the fashion designer claimed to be a weak talent, Green Grass had seen her with well over a dozen items airborne at once, and all precisely manipulated with a skill that many university professors or surgeons would have envied. “She plays her dreadful music at all hours, I suppose. Do you smell something burning?”
* * *
After extinguishing the blaze in the kitchen where the three fillies had somehow managed to set cucumber-and-lettuce sandwiches on fire, the tutor brought his student to the Sugarcube Corner. It was only a flicker of an idea at the moment, but it fairly screamed out for Pinkie Pie. After all, he needed a responsible adult in the area while working with his student, and Pinkie Pie was an adult, and most certainly responsible for something, most probably a party. It took a bit of preparation, a record for Pinkie’s record player, and some planning from the pink party pony, but soon he had his scene all carefully set in Pinkie’s bedroom. All he needed was a spark.
“Sweetie Belle, I want to try something different. No, put the book away.” Green Grass picked up the record and placed it on the gramophone carefully before handing his student a flurry of sheet music. “What I’m going to do is to start up the record, and you follow along on the music. It’s a lot like the tonal scale routine I was teaching Sparkler and Dinky, but... well, it’s different. I don’t want you to sing or hum or even think of the music while it is playing, just watch it on the paper.” He looked at the paper and shuddered. “Modern music, yuck. Let me just start up the record and — Oh wait, I thought I heard the Cakes. I’ll be right back. You just keep doing what I told you.”
The tutor strode purposefully out of the bedroom without a backwards glance as the record player started belting out Sapphire Shore’s latest hit, only to double back and peek carefully around the corner.
“What are we doing?” whispered Pinkie Pie almost in his ear.
“Shh. Just watch.” Slowly at first, the little unicorn filly played with the song sheets while the record played. The fact that it was a ‘homework assignment’ rather than her own idea was putting quite a damper on her enthusiasm for the song. After just a few moments, however, one little filly hoof began tapping, followed by a second, then her tail started swishing. An imaginary microphone was hooked behind a small hoof, a gentle touch given to an imaginary hat to settle it on her snow-white horn, and the small Sapphire Shores launched into the song, not as harmony or background singer to the famous pony, but in a duet.
“She’s good,” whispered Pinkie Pie in Green Grass’ twitchy ear.
“Watch the music,” whispered Green Grass back, trying to move his head so Pinkie was not breathing in an ear. Or down his neck. He settled for biting his bottom lip and trying not to squeak. Ever so slowly, an emerald-green aura formed across the unicorn filly’s horn, wrapped around one page and flipped it over. He held his breath, praying that it was not a fluke (and to keep from making more squeaking noises) while a second page turned, and then a third. Finally, the song ended and Pinkie burst into her bedroom, wildly applauding.
“Yea! Good job! Encore!” Sweetie Belle reacted much as he had feared, backing up and blushing like she had been sneaking a peek into the little colt’s room. It took both of them considerable time to calm her back down until she trotted off to rejoin her friends downstairs and Green Grass could have a word with Pinkie Pie in her bedroom doorway.
“Pinkie, I know you’re happy for Sweetie Belle—”
“Yes, I’m so happy because she’s been so upset about not keeping up with her classmates, and that makes Rarity sad, and when Rarity’s sad, she makes really poofy dresses and visits Bon Bon⁽²⁾ a lot.”
(2) For chocolate and a sympathetic ear, but mostly for chocolate.
—
“I’m just saying, Sweetie Belle seems to have serious performance issues with using her magic in public, even with her best of friends, even when they’re pink. Or green.”
“Does that mean I can’t be happy for her?” Pinkie’s pouts were weapons-grade, and Green Grass never stood a chance.
“Of course not. Please stop it. Please? I give up. Okay, how about a hug instea—”
“Yea! That makes me so happy!” The tutor gave up and surrendered to the hug with full knowledge that even if he had fought, it would not have made any difference other than to make the hug less enjoyable, and probably longer.
“Oh, excuse me you two. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Mrs. Cake paused in the hallway with a laundry basket on her back and looked at the two ponies hugging in the bedroom doorway with a quizzical expression.
Pinkie grinned back, “No problem, Mrs. Cake. We were just getting done with our experiment in the bedroom.”
“Experiment?”
Green Grass chuckled, thinking of how best to arrange the next lesson as not to frighten his shy student. “Just a little experiment with magic. It’s all done now, and I think it was quite a success. Don’t you think so, Pinkie?”
“Yeah! It was worth a standing ovulation. Or is that ovation. Anyway, it worked fantastic!”
The tutor nodded, “Yes, she finally unlocked her magic. Just a bit, but I think with practice, she can use it whenever she wants.”
Mrs. Cake concealed her bafflement with her boarder/employee behind a blank stare. Then again, that was her frequent reaction to Pinkie Pie’s antics, but this was far more open than normal, even for her. She had been hoping Pinkie would finally find her special somepony, but never imagined it would happen this way. “That’s... great. I’ve never heard it called that before. Pinkie, are you comfortable with this?”
“Sure, Mrs. Cake. My bedroom is the perfect place for this. It’s quiet and good for concentration. The noise didn’t bother anypony downstairs, did it?”
So that’s why they were playing the record. But what about the applause after... oh my!
“Oh! No, Pinkie. We hardly heard you downstairs at all. So... you two will be doing... this again here on a regular basis?” Mrs. Cake nervously wiped her forehead while thinking of the twins sleeping next door to Pinkie’s room.
Green Grass waved a hoof while trying to picture a better way for his student to have privacy, but still be properly observed. “Probably not tomorrow. The day after tomorrow should work if that would fit into your schedule, Pinkie.”
“Yep! I can hardly wait.” Pinkie Pie bounced around the room with a big smile, off the carpet, off the rumpled⁽³⁾ bed, and of course, off the walls.
(3) Pinkie’s bedcovers could be ironed with a steamroller and still be rumpled.
—
Mrs. Cake watched the two of them with a suddenly growing thread of concern. “Mr. Green Grass, I don’t mean to interrupt. But what about Twilight?”
Green Grass frowned, still lost in thought. “Well, I suppose she can watch, if that’s okay with Pinkie.”
“Okey Dokey Lokie. We probably should limit the viewers to just her, and maybe one other. You know,” she whispered conspiratorially to Mrs. Cake. “Performance issues.”
The tutor nodded, “Yes, of course.”
Carefully shifting the laundry basket on her back for a quick getaway sprint, Mrs. Cake ventured hesitantly, “I think I’ll just... go lie down some.“
“Oh, I know!” shouted Pinkie Pie happily. “Mrs. Cake, if you want to watch too, I’m sure it will be just fine. It is your house. Mrs. Cake?” There was nothing left of the baker in the hallway but the rapidly receding sounds of running hoofsteps and a few scattered pieces of laundry.
“Oh well.”
* * *
Green Grass had not felt this good in months, despite his ruined thesis and still-aching muscles. And the inevitable crash that would happen when his parents found out about his romantic interests, or more correctly, disinterest. And that did not count just which way, not one, but two Princesses were going to jump when they heard the news.
Then again, he didn’t feel that good.
Things had begun slotting in place with his students, from finding out that Snails could hold a light spell for hours if he was outside, at night, looking for creepy-crawlies⁽⁴⁾, to finding a productive crack in Sweetie Belle’s privacy issues. Even discussions with the parents had begun to show positive results, which he was beginning to think was heavily influenced by Sparkler’s behind the scenes activities on his behalf. It really felt good to talk things out with Twilight without buckets of water or fountain dunkings being exchanged. It was weird, despite, or perhaps because of their disastrous interactions, he had gotten closer to her than any other mare in college or after school either, for that matter. That horrible recoil that seemed to fill his gut whenever thoughts of ‘foals’ or ‘marriage’ crossed his mind, was muted when mixed with her thoughts. Sometimes even... nice.
(4) Between Snails running the light, and Snips doing the pickup work, they could ‘harvest’ more than a gallon of pure insectile horror an hour at night, earning Green Grass more than one hateful thought over the next few years from teachers and parents alike for teaching them that particular trick.
—
He gave a sigh as he closed up the wagon for the night and blew out the lamp. She was a big frog in a giant pond, and he was just a tadpole. No, that did not work well. She was the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra, he was a kazoo. No, still not right. She was a blazing inferno of living fire, destructive and untamed as the sky, while he was a colt with a stick taped to his head, pretending to raise the sun. Close. It had been many years since he had done that; Mother had been upset, Father had been apoplectic with rage. His siblings had taken photos. A pang of sadness lanced through his heart at the thought. It was true, she was destined for greater things, for power and knowledge and prestige. She would have no space for a powerless earth pony at her side anyway, even if he were to want that position. Which he most certainly did not.
So why do I keep thinking about her, just like Luna said?
He had just barely settled down into bed with plans to move his house back to Berry’s alley tomorrow when the door to his wagon was yanked open, and Twilight bounded happily inside.
“I have a proposal!”
You are cordially invited to
Tea with Princess Celestia
at
2:30 p.m. Thursday
Darjeeling Room, Canterlot Castle
R.S.V.PInvitees:
Baron Chrysanthemum
Lady Spring Fresh, of House Chrysanthemum
Lady Twilight Velvet, Dean, Canterlot University Department of High-Energy Magics
Lord Night Light, Director of the Office of Diplomatic Support Services
CC: Miss Cozy, Royal Tea Stewardess
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Crap! Wait, I can still win the death pool. The Princesses and Twilight's parents, the odds are in my favor.
Okay, it's pretty obvious that Luna's manipulation of Green Grass is at least as shameless as her sister's. It must be odd, to realise that two Manifest Goddesses have decided that you are going to marry someone and clearly intend to 'persuade' him where his 'true feelings' lie. The meeting with his parents and Twilight's parents is obviously the moment when he and Twilight will be informed that the decision has already been made... by Royal Fiat.
Now, I wonder if the rumours of his 'liaison' with Pinkie Pie are going to muddy the waters? It's unfair on Pinkie, of course, who is close to the definition of 'innocent'. Then again, when has gossip ever been fair?
Finally: I loved how he used music with Sweetie Bell as almost an auto-hypnotic to let her release her magic. Getting her to do it in front of others is going to be hard, though.
Definitely vote for Clover, especially if the foal is green.
Oh Rarity.
I think I'm sensing a little Discworld influence with Twilight Velvet's university department.
This is good
"grabs popcorn"
*sees chapter title*
Oh no.
*reads chapter*
Oh good.
Looking forward to more, especially when the parents meet. I really hope Twilight's parents deflate House Chrysanthemum. Mercilessly.
Green Grass makes good partner with Twilight, love how you are slowly fleshing out their real feeling for one other even the situation seems bleak.
ಠ_ಠ
1901941
Oh Look Of Disapproval, your gaze fills me with such shame!
And yet I can't stop laughing
Ow.
That hurt, you meanie you.
Seriously, I laughed so hard I have tears running down my face.
A blazing inferno of living fire.... and a colt with a stick taped to his head.... I literally laughed out loud at that one, I loved it!
A tea invitation, with both their parents, even after Twilight told the Princess there really wasn't anything going on between them? Methinks that sneaky alicorn is playing cupid...
Then again, in this story... who isn't?
Your brilliant observations bring me joy.
And I'm not going to quote the entire bit with Mrs Cake and the misunderstanding. But that was priceless.
And that part about the colt with the stick pretending to raise the sun? That made me a little teary.
Your puns aren't funny.
Celestia plucking dammit! I was about to go to bed, you limey bastard! >:[
A gallon of slugs and snails!?
It is nearly 5 am and I can't stop reading this...It is 6 am.
Too bad this story, and the sequels, are finished, or I'd be kibitizing so much in favor of a herd agreement. Green Grass thinks he is overwhelmed with Twilight, it would be whole other layer of chaos if he picked up a second mare like Pinkie. Diametrically opposed forces, with him in the middle.
If you're experiencing a standing ovulation for longer than ten days...
9485495 Irrespective and I are working up something like that with Baked Bean in The Harem Noses.
9724601
Let's hope dear Bean can survive it, hm?
https://www.fimfiction.net/story/368869/her-royal-morning-coffee