Twilight falls in love with a water-loving pony who looks after Ponyville Lake.
When you, a water-loving earth pony who looks after Ponyville Lake, accidentally render Twilight Sparkle bedridden and without magic, you take it upon yourself to assist Spike in her recovery. But seeing her one evening after another eventually causes the two of you to become close. Dangerously close.
The bright, early summer sun’s rays dance upon the shimmering, blue lake‘s surface. Two figures stand by the water’s edge; a small dragon and a pony. The dragon, flicking through a dusty book, looks upon its pages, then to the lake, then back to the book.
“Why are we doing this again, Twilight?” he asks, pressing his claw down when he finds the right page. A simple freezing spell, coupled with a few advanced sub-spells. Resistance to natural heat and sunlight was such an addition that one simply shouldn‘t forget in these circumstances.
The book floats out of his hand, surrounded by the violet aura. It drifts towards the accompanying unicorn, who memorises the spell’s requirements before placing it gently on the ground.
“Because, Spike, it’s going to be a surprise for Pinkie Pie’s birthday,” she explains, “She loves ice-skating, but since her birthday’s always in summer, she never gets to go on a frozen lake. The only ice rink I can think of is the one in Canterlot, and that always costs a ton of bits for entry and is crammed with other ponies. If I freeze this lake, we could all have a little rink to ourselves! That‘s gonna be my birthday present to her this year.”
“Pinkie’s birthday isn’t for several weeks.” Spike flatly points out.
“I know,” Twilight replies, “But I need to see if I can cast the spell successfully first. Practice makes perfect and all that.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” the dragon takes a step back, allowing his friend to concentrate on her magic. The unicorn’s horn glows its usual violet hue, before flashing a bluish-white, the surrounding magic snaking from her horn and weaving itself into the waters in front of her. The lake itself begins to freeze, starting at the water’s edge closest to the caster, and rippling forth from there. Soon, the entire lake is frozen from one side to the other.
Twilight abruptly halts the spell, letting out a sigh of weariness. She and Spike look over the lake, taking in their results. Every inch of the lake surface is replaced by a pristine sheet of glistening ice. It may have been a difficult spell to cast, but she was more than willing to chalk this up as a success!
With a smug grin, Twilight turns to her dumbstruck assistant. “What do you think?”
“Whoa.” It takes a moment for him to snap out of his astonishment, “It’s stuff like this, Twilight, which is why I think you’re so cool. Geddit?” he chuckles, pointing a claw towards the freshly iced lake, “So cool?”
“Swing and a miss.” she chuckles, cautiously placing a hoof upon the lake’s frozen surface. Then another hoof. Then another. Pushing off from the edge with her hind leg, she slides a few feet across the makeshift ice rink. She wobbles for a moment of two, before regaining her balance. So far so good.
Carefully making her way across the ice, having at least two near-slips, she examines her workmanship across the whole lake. Spike eventually sets foot on the ice too, taking his rarely used stance on all fours to help him keep balance.
“Hmm, I think it needs more work,” Twilight says once she reaches partway to the centre, “While most parts of the lake’s ice are thick and durable, there are thin patches scattered throughout the whole thing. I guess I’ll just have to be more consistent while casting the spell next time-”
“My lake! What the buck do you think you’re doing to my lake?!?”
A stallion’s agitated voice yells behind them. Both Twilight and Spike whip around in shock to find the source of the shouting. Twilight’s legs tangle up on the icy surface. She slips, her back hitting the ice with a heavy CRACK from under her.
A scream.
A splash.
Silence.
“Twilight?” The dragon’s voice raises an octave in alarm. The only thing that remains where she once stood is a cold, watery hole. “Twilight! No!”
*******
What have you done? What did you just do? You were only yelling at them for freezing your property! And now somepony’s just…
You break out into a gallop as quickly as your Earth Pony legs could carry you. Reaching the frozen surface of your lake, you lower yourself into a slide, stopping just short of the bitter hole the unfortunate pony had fallen through.
She still hasn’t surfaced. Thoughts of dread begin to form in your mind. What if she’s..?
You turn sympathetically to the panicking young dragon, who’s fighting back the tears in his eyes. If you hadn’t have shouted like you did, she‘d never have fallen, and…
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
The sound of something hitting ice reaches your ears. It’s coming from nearby. You follow the sound, urgently looking though the frozen surface for any sign of…
Your insides jump in distress at the sight. A pair of purple hooves madly scrabbling at the sheet of ice from below. A pair of violet eyes, hysterical and desperate, looking back at you in terror from under the water.
You do the first thing you can think of, swinging your fore-hooves into the ice at full force in an attempt to break it. Nothing. Another four solid hits later, there’s still no such luck. She’s trapped under an especially thick part of the ice.
She screams in panic; no sound. Nothing to show for it but the flurry of bubbles swarming against the lake‘s unbreakable surface. The beating of her hooves against the ice becomes more frantic than ever as she chokes. But there’s nothing you can do…
“Move it!”
You obey the sudden command of the young dragon, and jump to the side, nearly slipping. With a loud FWOOSH, a torrent of emerald-green fire rushes forth from his mouth, spilling over the ice where you once stood. It’s working; the ice starts to melt, and cracks form where the pony is trying to break though. You jump in to lend a hoof, each swing breaking up more and more of the surface.
Finally, it shatters. A freezing purple foreleg triumphantly breaks though the ice, and into the open air. You rush to grab it.
With a quick, forceful pull, you lift the mare out from her watery grave. She inhales a loud, thankful gasp of air before she collapses onto the ice beside you, coughing out the biting-cold water from her lungs, taking one deep breath after another as she shivers uncontrollably.
“Twilight!” The dragon rushes forward and throws himself into an affectionate hug with her, tensing when he feels how cold she is, “You’re… you’re freezing!”
“I- I… uh- nuh… hm- ah-” Her incoherent mumbles are as tangled as her sopping wet mane. Her violent shivering doesn’t stop, and she seems unable to move properly even if she tried. Looking closer, you notice her lips are blue.
“We’ve got to dry you off before you freeze to death, poor girl!” you say, hoisting the pony onto your back. Geez, she really is cold! “My shack is right over there, it has a fireplace and everything!”
The dragon dutifully follows you back to your home; a minute’s walk away, but that’s a minute too long for the poor purple unicorn. She shivers the whole journey, holding onto you weakly, trying to draw off as much warmth from you as she could get.
*******
Upon arrival, you set the mare down in front of the inactive fireplace, grumbling an apology about the mess and kicking away a few stray bits of scrap that litters the floor of your shack. Throwing a few logs into the soon-to-be fire, you look around for the flint and tinder. Damn, where did you lose them this time?
FWOOSH!
“Fire’s ready,” the dragon says bluntly, puffing out some excess smoke from his nostrils, “Let’s get to drying her. Got any spare towels?”
You make a quick trip to the bathroom, and return with several of your best towels. And by best, you meant ‘least damp’. You toss them to the dragon (you should really ask for that guy’s name), who catches them and immediately starts to work drying his… friend? Boss? Relative of sorts?
Either way, it isn’t your concern right now. The unicorn - did the dragon call her Twilight? - looks as weak as she was when she first surfaced. “We should get a doctor for her. She doesn‘t look so good.” You consider the circumstances for a moment. Surely you’re not stupid enough to leave two complete strangers alone in your house?
“Better yet, I’m gonna run out and fetch the doctor myself. Can I trust you to stay here and keep her warm while I’m gone?”
It turns out you really are that stupid. But what are they gonna do, really? Steal your scrap? The pony’s too weak to even stand upright and the dragon looks way too small to carry anything at all.
“Wait!” You turn back to the dragon who called out for you, “She’s gonna be okay, isn’t she?”
You don’t give him a direct reply; honestly, you don’t know.
“Just keep her warm and dry." you tell him, "I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Nurse Redheart, the closest medical authority you could find on such short notice, analyses the recently used thermometer. She makes a mental note of the unicorn’s pulse, places a hoof against her forehead to check for external temperature, and lets out a sigh, be it one of relief or regret.
The nurse turns back to you and Spike, as the dragon calls himself. “She’s been struck with sudden cold shock and mild hypothermia,” she says, “As long as you keep her warm and dry, she’ll fully recover within a few weeks at most. You say she fell into the frozen lake outside?”
You and Spike nod. The nurse continues; “Obviously, the swift drop in temperature triggered it. She’ll be over the initial hypothermic shock in a few days, however hypothermia is known for disrupting a unicorn’s sense of magic, and that will take far longer to recover. Make sure she doesn‘t try casting any spells for two or three weeks; it‘ll just give her a headache.”
“She can’t cast magic?” Spike seems as hurt by this information as Twilight herself, “I guess that explains why she didn’t teleport to safety when she fell under. She couldn‘t.”
Seeing the disappointment the bad news had caused, the nurse tries for something more uplifting; “Looking on the bright side, there‘s no severe or permanent damage to her lungs nor her heart from the accident, so like I said, it could have been far worse.”
“What do you recommend?” Spike asks. Anything to get his friend feeling well faster.
“Hot meals and a warm bed.” Nurse Redheart says, “The more relaxed she is, the better.” her nose scrunches up as she looks over the junk covering the room, “This isn’t her house, is it?”
“No, it isn’t. It’s mine.” you admit, ignoring the badly-disguised look of disgust from the nurse, “If she needs bed rest, we’d better get her home while it’s still warm outside.”
“Can you walk, Twilight?” Spike asks her. While she’s too weak to talk back, Twilight responds with a slight nod and a forced smile. You and the dragon help her up to her hooves, with the nurse guiding the way out of the door. Just before you go, you grab a nearby jacket. She’ll need it.
The walk back to her home was a disheartening thing to be a part of. The faintest of breezes, even in the summer sunlight, caused Twilight to flinch from the cold running through her, despite the protection your jacket offers. Twice she nearly collapsed. Twice she turned down the offer for you to carry her.
The library door swings open, giving Twilight shelter from the cold that only she had felt. You and the nurse help her slowly climb up the stairs, finally reaching her bedroom and setting her down there. By the look on her weary face, she’s glad to be in her familiar bed.
“Is there a fireplace here for if she needs one?” You ask.
“Oh yeah,” Spike replies, “We use it to make s’mores during sleepovers. And before you ask; no, there‘s never been a house-fire in this library resided by a fire-breathing dragon, filled with books and made out of a giant tree.”
Not that you were wondering that, but okay…
Looking back at Twilight, you notice she’s already tightly wrapped herself in her covers like a cocoon, eyes shut, with nothing but rest on her mind. You decide it’s time to leave her be.
Picking up your discarded coat, you say your goodbyes and leave alongside Nurse Redheart, who sets off to inform Twilight’s close friends about her accident. Perhaps now is a good time to check back on your lake; it’s early summer, after all, so it shouldn’t take that long for it to melt, right?
*******
You hardly sleep that night. The events of the past day cloud your mind, tossing up one twisted scenario after another. What if you hadn’t found her under the ice, and she was lost under there forever? What would’ve happened if you weren’t there to help the ice break with your hooves, or carry her home and dry her by your fire? What if Spike wasn’t there with his fire breath? The ice would never have been weak enough to break and she‘d have…
Shuddering from the thought, you turn over in your bed, and try sleeping one more time. There’s no point dwelling on what didn’t happen, after all.
Your lake is still frozen solid when you check up on it again the following day. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of it melting, aside from the two pony-sized holes in the ice. You’d already turned away several ponies throughout the day, telling them how unsafe trying to skate on it is. It seems you’re going to get a lot less visitors until it thaws.
And that means you’re not going to be able to enjoy your daily swim in it either. That’s a real kick in the teeth for you, of all ponies. But what else could you do? You could always try to give more of your scrap and junk away, but almost nopony takes it. Maybe the two “perpetrators” who froze the lake in the first place know how to fix the problem. You might as well pay them a visit, but first, you should probably get on their good side. A Get Well Soon card for the unicorn would be a polite gesture…
You gawk at the huge, sophisticated and particularly glittery Get Well Soon card on the shelf, among several other colourful cards near Twilight’s bed. For the tenth time, you read the sender’s signature, and for the tenth time, you fail to believe it.
“We’re not kidding,” yawns Spike, “It’s totally legit; Twi’s her star student and everything.”
“But… but…” you look between your small, trivial and substantially un-glittery card, and the glorious polar-opposite placed next to it on the shelf, “The princess of Equestria? Celestia herself sent you this? In her own horn-writing?”
Twilight, sitting up comfortably in her bed, smiles with a noise that could possibly be giggling. She doesn’t say much else, however. Perhaps it still hurts to talk. On the bright side, she’s not shivering any more. Speaking of which…
“The nurse said you’d get over the worst of the hypothermia in a few days, right?”
She nods, then looks at Spike to be her vocals. “But she still has to lay off the magic for a few weeks.” he mumbles. It’s now that you notice the bags forming under his green, vertical-slit eyes.
“And what about you, little guy? You look wrecked.”
He shakes his head in an attempt to shake himself awake. “Sorry,” he says, as if he’s done something wrong, “I’m Twilight’s number-one assistant. It used to almost be a full-time thing helping her, and now that she’s stuck in bed and without magic, it really is full-time. Owloysius helps when he can, but he sleeps during the day, and Twilight’s friends can’t be here all the time either. They’ve all got lives too, you know what I mean?”
Two questions crop up in your mind. The first one is ‘Who the heck is Owloysius?’ and the second one is ‘Why can’t I help out?’. You opt to ask the second question out loud.
The bed-ridden pony shakes her head, sinking into her bedcovers slightly - perhaps she’s embarrassed at the thought of resorting to the help of strangers - and beckons her assistant over to her bedside. She whispers something into his ear, which he promptly recites in a monotone manner;
“Twilight says ‘You don’t need to worry about little old me, I’m sure you’ve got a pretty full schedule or something that you need to do.’”
“Yes, I do,” you respond, “And most of my schedule involves cleaning and looking after the lake, which I can’t do while it’s frozen over. I might as well help out here while I wait for it to melt.”
Both Spike and Twilight exchange uneasy looks, as if to say ‘Should we tell him?’. A beat later, and the unicorn nods, letting Spike step forward.
“It’s, uh… not gonna be melting any time soon pal. Sorry.” the dragon shrugs, “Twilight weaved in a few sub-spells while she was freezing it over; resistance to sunlight and natural heat, mostly. She did that so it wouldn‘t melt if we were to go ice-skating on it.”
“What?” You can’t believe your luck; of all of the times for your lake to get frozen over without your permission, it just so happens to be with ice that never melts. “How do we get rid of it?”
“The only way to melt it is through magic, notably from the one who cast the spell in the first place.” Spike dutifully repeats what the poorly Twilight whispers to him, “Almost everything else is gonna be useless.”
“But what about fire?” you retort at the dragon, “I saw you melt the ice with your own breath!”
“My fire-breath is bright green and can send letters to high-ranking members of royalty. I’m pretty sure that counts as magic.” He gives you a weary look, as if he‘s tired of explaining something like that. “I doubt I’d be able to thaw a whole lake with it though; I could just barely melt the ice patch that Twilight was stuck under.”
“So the only way to have my lake back is for Twilight to use a thawing spell?” you ask. The two librarians nod. “But she can’t cast any magic until she’s fully recovered from her hypo-therma-thingie?”
Twilight tries to correct you out loud, but all she manages is a raspy cough. Instead, she nods again to confirm what you said.
“In that case, Spike, get some rest. I’ll take over from here.”
“Huh? Wha?” Spike’s attention returns slightly by the mention of his name; he'd dozed off for a moment. Twilight leans up in her bed, as if wondering what you meant by that.
“As the janit- uh, warden of Ponyville’s lake, I should be doing everything I can to make sure it’s clean, safe, and ultimately… not frozen over,” you explain to them, “However, Twilight’s the only pony who can help me with that, and she can’t cast magic until she’s recovered.”
You pause, letting the information sink in, “Which means,” you continue, “the faster you recover, the sooner I get my lake back. So it’s in my best interest to help you get better, Twilight. I can‘t really do much else otherwise. Besides, your dragon friend looks exhausted.”
After an uncomfortable silence, the two library-dwellers huddle together and exchange a few quick whispers. Finally, Spike turns back to you.
“Come back tomorrow evening or something, if you’re really that eager to help. Twilight and I could sort out a list of things you could do to help, okay?”
You leave a few minutes later, feeling a little less guilty for nearly drowning a mostly-innocent mare yesterday. Twilight seems to be taking her recovery one day at a time, so offering to ease the stress is the least you could do. Perhaps you’ll actually be able to get some restful sleep tonight, without your conscience gnawing at you.
*******
No such luck. Your thoughts that night are plagued with a grim recital of what happened when you first met. When she broke free from the bitter, watery coffin with the help of you and the dragon. When she fell to the freezing ground, twitching, mumbling to herself in disorientation. The biting cold that she must have felt as the faintest breeze chilled her to the bone.
With yet another toss and turn, you make it clear to yourself; you aren’t just helping her get better so you can have your lake back. You’re helping her because it’s the only thing to douse your guilt.
*******
You had spent most of the day organising the scrap in your home, deciding what to keep and what to take to an actual scrap yard, since you couldn’t really do your usual daily duties at the lake. When you arrive at the library that evening, you’re met with a friendly greeting from Spike, who leads you up to Twilight’s room.
A pile of books are stacked by her bed, no doubt there to help Twilight pass the time while bedridden. She looks up from reading one such book when you walk in, welcoming you back with a warm smile as if to ask how your day was. You voice the question out loud to her first.
“She’s doing great so far,” Spike answers on her behalf, “She was struggling with soup yesterday, but she didn’t have any issues this morning, so she’s totally recovering. Pinkie Pie came over - you might know her, she probably knows you - and discussed plans for a ‘Get Well Soon party’. Of course, we’re kinda more interested in a ‘Fully Recovered party’, so Pinkie’s gonna be holding it once Twilight’s better. Then Fluttershy visited for a while…”
As Spike recounts the past day, you’re relieved to know that she has many friends and visitors during the day. That’s good; at least she’s not going to go crazy with boredom any time soon. Plus, her books give her plenty to amuse herself with in the meantime.
After a good while of casually chatting between the three of you (you, Spike and Twilight-through-Spike) she produces a small roll of parchment and passes it to you. Of course, the checklist of things you could do to help. You asked for it yesterday, and you got it.
Glancing through the list, you find that they’re pretty basic tasks; pick up some shopping here, help Spike sort books over there, drop such-and-such a book off at somepony’s house, and so on. To put it simply, you’re just taking some of the weight off the dragon’s shoulders, letting him focus on helping Twilight herself.
Looking back, you can’t believe how quickly the week had passed.
Every evening, you’d pay Twilight Sparkle a visit, and every evening, she’d greet you with a look of pleasant surprise, followed shortly after by a polite conversation, before giving you some instructions via parchment. By the fourth day, she had even plucked up the strength to talk to you directly.
“Thanks. For. Your. Help.”
One word at a time for the poor girl. However, it was louder than whispering her words for Spike to pass on, so it was clearly an improvement. In fact, if you recall correctly, those were the first words she’d ever said to you. Luckily, none of those were curses or threats for putting her through all that illness in the first place. So far so good.
By the seventh day, her voice was in perfectly good health; no croaks or coughs to be heard. She had a heartening, yet reasonable voice, maybe a little ostentatious from time to time, as Spike couldn’t resist pointing out. However, you found her little quirks - such as panicking over minor schedules and lists, or organising particular things just right - as normal as anypony else‘s personalities in this crazy town. It’s almost cute, when you think about it.
By the way, did you sort out those scrap piles yet?
“Where did you get all that scrap from, anyway?” Twilight asks you one evening, as Spike prepares her meal in the next room.
“From the lake,” You shrug; the answer’s simple enough to you, “Lots of ponies think they can dump stuff in it in secret. They can’t. I just dive in, take the junk out, and if I know who dumped it, I dump it right back on their doorsteps. They usually don‘t try again afterwards. If I don’t know who did it, I either keep the scrap for myself or sell it. Either way, I keep the lake clean..”
“Wow,” Twilight leans back in her bed in mild surprise, “I didn’t know ponies did that.”
“Well, not very many ponies do it that often,” you admit, “The scrap you saw at my place has kinda been building up for years, I just haven’t sold it all yet-”
“No, no, not the whole scrap collecting thing,” Twilight cuts in, “I meant I’ve never seen many ponies go lake-diving for a living. You must have spent a fortune on diving equipment.”
“Hm? Nah.” you shake your head, “I don’t use diving gear. Even if I could afford it.”
She pauses to think for moment, then perks up again. “Oh, now I get it; you hire unicorns from Canterlot to cast a gill-giver spell on you. Wow, that must cost even more, since that’s harder to cast than a glimmer-wing spell, and even I struggle with that one!”
“No, I don’t do that either.” you say simply, “Like I said, I’m not exactly made of bits.”
“Then… how do you get the junk out from the bottom of the lake?”
“I dive in and get it.” by the look on Twilight’s face, she obviously wants you to explain a little more. You give an example; “There was this one time somepony dumped a whole empty wardrobe in there. Since it was way too heavy to carry out, I swam down there with a screwdriver, took it apart, then carried it out piece by piece. I still have that wardrobe, if you wanna see… it…”
You trail off when you notice Twilight's dumbfounded expression.
“Um, not to sound personal, but…” Twilight looks around her own bedroom, as if she didn’t want anypony overhearing (who would even care? Spike?), and leans forward, as if she’s about to ask a deeply private question. You lean forward in response.
“Exactly how long can you hold your breath?”
“My word!” you jokingly recoil in mock-distress, placing a hoof over your forehead dramatically, as if you were in a pantomime, “What a personal question! Almost as personal as asking you, I dunno, how long you can read a book for! The sheer horror!”
She giggles at your (obviously) award-winning performance, and playfully gives you a nudge in return, “Oh, stop it, it’s just that you hardly talk about yourself! I didn’t know whether you’d find it invasive or not.”
“Alright, you win,” you drop the overly dramatic charade, “I’ve just been coming here with the focus on helping you get better, so I guess I haven’t really spoken about much else.” You then remember her original question; “But since you’ve asked, I can hold my breath for about… four minutes average, sometimes five if I try hard enough. My record is eight minutes, which only happened once, during a bet with some friends. A bet that I lost, unfortunately - I was aiming for ten.”
Good times. You bring the subject back to Twilight before you get lost in your sense of nostalgia. “What about you? What’s your record?”
She picks her jaw off the floor before answering, “Uh… if I said one whole minute, I’d be lying.”
You chuckle, “And what about your record on reading?”
“Ah, now that’s my strong suit!” she blushes, much like before, and treats it like something that should be a private question, “If you must know, I can read a book for about… four hours average, sometimes eight if I try hard enough. My record is fourteen hours, which only happened once, from 8pm to 10am. It was an all-nighter I crammed for an exam back in Canterlot. An exam which I aced, by the way.”
Whoa. And she thought you and your breath holding was over-the-top.
“What about you when it comes to books?” she asks.
“If I said one whole hour, I’d be lying.”
You both share a laugh. Soon, Spike walks in with a few bowls of freshly made soup, and the rest of the evening is spent bantering and talking for hours on end about each other‘s past adventures.
*******
The library door shuts for the last time that night, as the lake-owner bids farewell to Spike and Twilight. His hoof steps quieten as he trots away, leaving the two librarians to some small talk before going to sleep.
“Weird, how he keeps coming back to help every day, huh?” Spike speculates, “I’ve told him he really doesn’t have to, but the guy insists.”
“You aren’t worried about him taking your place, are you Spike?”
“Oh geez no, Twilight,” he shakes his head definitively, “I’m way over that since the whole Owloysius thing. Which reminds me, he’ll be awake soon.”
Twilight gets back on topic, “I think I know why our friend keeps coming back; perhaps he thinks the more he cares for me, the faster I’ll recover and get my magic back, so I can finally thaw out his lake. Or maybe he feels kinda guilty for making me fall through the ice in the first place.” she then inhales deeply, and lets it out in a slow, dreamy sigh that causes Spike to raise his head, “Either way, I really don‘t mind the extra company.”
Spike just stands there, staring open-mouth at his friend. “Uh, what the heck was that about, Twilight?”
“What the heck was what?”
“That, Twilight.” he responds, “That sigh; you just did a Rarity-Sigh!”
“A… Rarity-Sigh?” the unicorn scoffs, suddenly feeling the need to roll her eyes and avert her eye contact, “Wha- what does that even mean?”
“It’s the same sigh I do whenever I think about Rarity, of course! It doesn’t make sense that you’re doing it though. I always thought that only happens to dragons and ponies who have… crushes…”
His eyes widen when the realisation clicks. Both of his clawed hands reach up to cover his agape jaw as he fixes Twilight with a reproving stare.
“Oh-”
“Spike, don‘t even say it!”
“-my-”
“He’s just a nice pony, okay?”
“-Celestia! You have a crush on- Mmph!” He gets cut short by the purple hoof that stuffs itself into his mouth.
“Geez, tell half of Ponyville, why don’t you?” Twilight sneers, turning red with embarrassment. Finally, she removes her hoof. “You got me. I’ve been… looking forward to his visits more every day. Remember before I moved to Ponyville, Spike? Remember when all I would care about is books and getting high grades? He’s just like that! He reminds me of me, only instead of books, he spends his time looking after that lake. Other than that minor detail, we’re just so much alike! And because of that, I think he’s the only stallion I truly understand. Because I’ve been there before! I‘ve been him! I understand him like no other colt I‘ve ever spoken to in my life!”
She pauses, giving her assistant a chance to register her rant. “Please, Spike,” she says finally, “promise me you won‘t tell anypony about this.”
The dragon gestures, dragging his finger and thumb across his lips in a ‘zipping’ motion. His lips are sealed.
A single ray of sunlight shines through the tiniest gap in your curtain, beaming directly over your closed eyes. For a giant burning ball of gas that’s millions of miles away, it’s nice to know that it has pinpoint accuracy when it comes to disturbing your lie-in. Turning over and tossing the covers over your head, you wonder if Celestia really is as much of a joker as Twilight Sparkle says she is.
Ah, screw it, time to get up.
As warm and bright as the sun is, it does nothing to melt the immaculate sheet of ice covering your lake. It’s been like that for over a full week now, yet it hasn’t given off a single droplet from melting. Hopefully Twilight’s magic might return in a matter of days; she’s been showing more and more visible signs of recovery every time you visit, after all. Maybe she’ll finally be able to leave her bed? And before you know it, you’ll have your precious lake back; you’ve been itching for a good swim all week.
You know, when you first started helping Twilight, you were only trying to dispel your own guilt. Now you’re visiting them because you really want to; Spike’s a great guy to talk to, and you’ve learned so much from Twilight since she regained her voice. But you’ve never really met her friends, apart from one or two encounters when delivering books to them and suchlike. She said they take care of her during the day, before you come by in the evenings…
Of course! Why don’t you just pay them a visit now? Your scrap will still be there to sort out when you get back later.
There are other reasons besides company for wanting to see Twilight again. But you wouldn’t go as far as saying you’re smitten with her, right? Even if… well… you totally are, let‘s be honest. But her recovery is way more important than your personal feelings, to be honest, so that takes a back seat for now. Maybe when you’ve plucked up the courage, say, in a month or so.
Heading back into town, towards the familiar tree-home, you wonder which friend of hers is visiting right now…
*******
Bashing three times on the library door, you wait for the usual recital of Spike answering the door, a friendly greeting and an escort to Twilight’s room. Any second now, he’s gonna answer.
Any second now.
Huh. Pressing your ear against the door, you don’t hear the patter of footsteps rushing to open it. Instead, you hear a clatter. Some shouting. Twilight mouthing off a response just out of earshot. More clattering.
“Is everything alright in there? It’s me! Just checking up on you!”
Whoever was in there, there was no acknowledgement of your arrival. Just more heated shouting. Oh gods, what’s going on in there?
“I’m, uh, I’m coming in, okay?”
You open the door to find Twilight out of her bed for the first time in days. She stands firmly in the centre of the library, legs hunched as if she’s getting ready to pounce on something. Her horn flickers a violet glow, on and off, on and off, as if it hurts to use. Nevertheless, she persists.
On the other side of the room, three figures huddle together, with one of them trying to hold on to something. That’s Spike, his claws tightly wrapped around a book that constantly tries of pull away under a bright purple radiance, and two other ponies you didn’t recognise; a female pegasus, with a mane of pink and coat of yellow, and a male stallion you’d never met before.
“Please, stop!” the pegasus pleads, “You’re not supposed to use magic until you’re better! We’ve talked about this!”
“I’m better now! Really!” Twilight calls back. You can’t help but notice the uncertainty in her voice. “Just let go of the book, I wanna read it!”
She does another mental yank with her magic, just as Spike releases his grip. The book falls to the floor, before pitifully dragging itself a few inches. Every eye in the building just watches as it pathetically edges its way towards the desperate unicorn, one weak tug at a time.
“See? I told you I’m all better!” She kids herself, whimpering with each telekinetic pull, “I can - Argh! - use magic again! I’m fully recovered! I-” she trails off when she finally notices you standing there. The look on her face when she realises that you saw the whole thing…
Without a sound, she makes a sprint for her room up the stairs. A moment later, the door slams, leaving you with Spike and the two other guests.
You exchange looks with your dragon friend.
“As much as she likes reading, being without magic is kinda taking its toll on her lately.” he explains.
“How long has she been like this?” you ask.
“About three days now. It’s getting worse and worse. You’d think having her out of bed would help, but no…”
She’s become miserable because she can’t use magic the way she used to. She’s like this because you made her fall under the ice. Your shouting made her fall back there. You gave her hypothermia as a result. She’s like this because of you.
Just when you were getting over the guilt. Great job.
“Are you Spike’s assistant?” asks the stallion. Oh, so that’s what Spike’s been referring to you as. Although you couldn’t really argue against it; Spike did do all of the important things, since he knew how to do it, while you were mostly there to pick up the slack.
“You could say that,” you reply before turning to Spike, “Could you just let me have a word with her? I’d appreciate it.”
He doesn’t object, sticking around with the two other ponies in the main library room while you trot up the staircase. Then you knock gently on Twilight’s door.
“Go away!” her voice cries back, “Just… leave me alone! I used to be able to lift every book in this library, now I can't even lift one!”
“Twilight, it’s me. Please, open up.”
You hear her mutter your name from the other side of the door. For a moment, silence. Then you hear faint hoof steps before she opens the door. Once you’re inside, it shuts behind you.
“Look, I’m sorry you had to see that,” she mumbles, looking at your hooves, not bringing herself to make eye contact. You can see why. “I’m just not used to being without magic, and I kinda got stressed about it. It’s no big deal-”
“Twilight, don‘t bother trying to defend me.” She stops in her tracks when your voice cuts her off, “Of course it’s a big deal. I nearly drowned you! I gave you hypothermia! I’ve pretty much ruined you! And now you’re apologising to me? Why? How can you even stand to be around me? I deserve a buck in the teeth for what I did to you!”
“No.” she protests weakly, “No you don’t! You shouldn't even say that-”
“I’m serious, Twilight!” You disregard the croak in your voice as you break down in front of her. “C’mon! Kick me right here in the face! Right now! Any hoof you want! Just get it over and done with! Please! I’m sick of seeing you hurt like this! I’m sick of living with the guilt every damn night! I-”
Your rant is interrupted when you feel the warmth of her fore-hooves clinging onto you. She buries her face into your shoulder, softly squeezing you in her embrace. After what seems like an eternity, you raise your own hooves and squeeze in return. Just you and Twilight Sparkle.
“It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have frozen the lake in the first place.” her voice muffles from being buried in your shoulder. It feels a little damp to you.
“You were just being nice for a friend. If I hadn’t have yelled at you when I first saw you…” You don’t know what possesses you to do this - maybe your feelings for her - but you give her face a gentle nuzzle with your own, “Just know that I’d never try to hurt you.”
She picks up, if only a little. “And I’d never kick you in the face.”
“Good to know.”
It’s hard to keep track of how long you both stand there, forelegs wrapped around each other, but you honestly don’t want it to end. All great things have to, however, and she pulls away with a smile on her face.
“Tell you what, Twilight,” you say, “Now that you’re healthy enough to walk around again, how about we just go for a walk around town? Some fresh air would help us both take our minds off things, and you could introduce me to your friends! You, me, maybe Spike if he’s up for walks?”
“That would be swell.” she giggles, seemingly over her stresses for now. Either that or she’s bottled them up again. You both trot out of her room, glad to have cleared away each other’s troubles, at least for today. You both had problems to overcome, of course, but you realise just how important it is to tackle them head-on with somepony you trust, rather than try to take it all on your own shoulders.
“C’mon, let’s start on getting you and Fluttershy acquainted! She’s downstairs with her boyfriend, we can go to her place and check out the cute animals…”
The next several days drift by as you turn up at Twilight’s home day after day; because she asked you to, of course. She and Spike had worked out a schedule for the coming week, visiting one of her friends after another with you, sometimes coupled with visits elsewhere around town.
One day, you’re relaxing on the fields outside of Ponyville with Twilight, watching pegasi dart around the clouds. Rainbow Dash (who you recognised because, heck, who doesn‘t?) was the most impressive flyer every time, as Twilight and her dragon friend would agree.
A few days later, you’re messing around in a clothing boutique with her, trying on one piece of clothing after another, and ultimately turning down the lot, much to Rarity’s frustration. You never saw the point of these shops, especially since living naked is the norm for most of the town, and not just you.
“I was born naked,” you declare to the owner, “So I’m gonna die naked!”
“And all shrivelled up, by the sound of things, dear.” Rarity fires back without skipping a beat. It takes a good ten minutes for Spike to stop laughing.
Another few days pass, and you’re enjoying a cool afternoon cider under some apple trees, along with Spike, Twilight, her friends in the Apple family, and a… thing. Looked like a cross between an ape, a shaved weasel and a diamond dog. You’re polite enough not to ask.
It’s true what the townsfolk say about Sweet Apple Acres; it really has the best sunsets. Of course, it’s nothing compared to the beautiful Twilight sitting alongside you. You wonder if she’d find that phrase romantic or corny?
The next trip is into town, meeting her at the Sugar Cube Corner where another one of her friends worked. Oddly, she arrived without her number-one assistant this time.
“Spike’s taking care of some things in the library today,” she explains as she takes a seat on the same outside table as you. You don’t follow her up on the vague explanation; it’s nice to have some alone time with her for once.
After polite small-talk, you both order milkshakes. The small, plump and cheerful owner to trots off and returns a few minutes later. “Pinkie’s been kind enough to cover the cost of these for you two dears,” she says with a smile, “she’s inside on baking duty if you’d like to pop in and say thanks!”
“We’ll be sure to thank her before we leave, Mrs. Cake.” Twilight replies. It’s hard not to return a smile in an establishment so bright and happy.
As the owner trots away to deal with other customers, you turn to Twilight, who directs her milkshake’s straw between her lips. You watch as she has a few slow sips, sucking the smooth, cool liquid through the straw and letting it slide down her throat as she swallows periodically.
Why the heck are you staring at her doing this, of all things?
Her eyes flick up and meet yours in a sideward glance/. She caught you staring.
“And here I thought you’d be happy with drinking your own.” she smiles with a perfectly visible blush. Before you can organise your embarrassed stuttering into words, she lifts the straw from your milkshake with her magic, and places it in her own. She seems to have recovered quite a bit from a few days ago.
She moves her drink closer to you, the straws pointing at you and her respectively. You shuffle your seat closer to hers, placing a hoof on the side of the glass while Twilight does the same. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you lean forwards with her, sipping the same drink together.
Her face is so close to yours. Her breath drifts across your face in-between sips, causing your heart to pound viciously inside your ribcage, like it’s trying to burst right out. Her free foreleg slowly curls around your torso. You mimic her actions in return; it’s the only thing you can think of doing. You try to control yourself, doing what you can to hide any signs of nervousness. Twilight’s probably picked up on it by now; she’s a smart mare.
The drink finishes way too soon - maybe you sipped it too fast out of tension? - but it doesn’t really matter to you nor her. Not because there’s another milkshake within hoof’s reach, but because Twilight’s face is still mere inches away from yours, her bright violet eyes half-lidded and dazed.
You take a chance, like you do every time you dive into your lake. With your own eyes shut, you lean into her face. Her snout brushes against yours for a brief moment, and through a sheer magical force of will, you finally push yourself forward into a gentle, tender kiss.
Her lips are warm against yours, the tingling scent of berries teasing you from within. Your heart races at a brisk, yet steady pace, happy to be alive with each beat. Happy to share the moment with Twilight Sparkle herself. As swiftly as your heart pounds, your thoughts rush, your nerves quiver, the rest of the world stands still, waiting just for you and her. All of the worries that built over the weeks melt away, and among the rabble of thoughts that swirl in your head, one particular thought stands out among them all.
You’re in love.
Your lips depart from hers, breaking the kiss and returning the world around you back to its normal pace. Your foreleg remains wrapped around her waist, as hers is with your own. She looks dizzy with exhilaration, unable to string together a sentence worthy of describing what just happened between you and her. Needless to say, you feel the same.
Once the second milkshake had gone down (shared, of course), you both set off, but not before quickly entering the shop and introducing yourself to the pink pony who pre-paid for your drinks. You don’t really recognise her, but she seems to recognise you with gusto.
The rest of the day is such a wonderful blur, walking around the market, checking the stalls and eventually watching the sun go down together, holding hooves. Once the moon rises, painting the world in its silvery light, you kindly offer to walk Twilight home. Outside the library, moths flutter around a nearby street lamp, and stars speckle the clear night sky. Before saying goodbye, she gifts you with a nuzzle and a peck on the cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” you ask as she opens her front door.
“Of course. The usual time.”
The walk home was dizzying, to say the least. With Twilight Sparkle gone for the night, your mind is free to reorder, free to try and make sense of what happened today.
Are you two dating now? Since when? It’s all so sudden…
She has the most adorable smile.
Is there some unspoken rule to follow now that you’re boyfriend and girlfriend? Are you boyfriend and girlfriend? You don’t know…
Her eyes, they‘re always so cheerful and bright.
How long has she liked of you like that? How long was she hiding it?
Oh for royalty's sake, you can‘t stop thinking about her…
Before you know it, you’re outside the front door of your shack. All of your daydreaming made the time slip by. Letting yourself in, you make yourself a snack, have a quick wash, and then make a beeline for your bed. The sooner you’re asleep, the sooner tomorrow can arrive, and the sooner you can see her again.
*******
POOF!
A bright green flash of light disturbs you from your sleep. A rolled-up piece of parchment lands on your bed seemingly from out of nowhere. That’s odd; you recall Spike sending letters off every once in a while from your visits, but you didn’t know they could focus on just anypony.
You unroll it with your hooves, and read the hastily scribbled message.
Get to the lake.
No introduction. No signature. Not that you needed one to know who sent it.
You check the weather outside, wincing from the sunlight as you open the curtains. It’s noon. You must’ve slept in.
Pulling yourself out of bed, you quickly check yourself once over in the bathroom mirror (if you’re about to see who you think you are there, you may as well look halfway presentable) and head out of the door.
A minute after leaving, you reach your second home; Ponyville Lake. Still frozen over from two, perhaps three weeks of waiting? The bright sun had done nothing to thaw the cold intrusion, as usual, however it glistens off the icy sheet quite nicely, the bright white contrasting with the vivid green grass and hills surrounding it.
After a few moments of waiting, you spy the purple mare herself galloping over from Ponyville, complete with a full saddlebag. Your heart leaps for joy when you see her again, just as it should. When she gets close enough, she greets you with a playful hug. You embrace her in return, giving her a gentle nuzzle.
“Glad to see you got my message!” she says cheerfully, removing her saddlebag and lifting a rather hefty book from it with her magic. She doesn’t show the slightest hint of strain when she lifts it.
“How’s your magic?” you ask out of courtesy. She responds with the playful wink of somepony who’s about to unveil a surprise. With a quick flick through of the book, she glances over a page, nods to herself, and places it carefully on the grass while she stares out to your frozen lake.
“See for yourself.” Twilight says as her horn starts to glow. You only just realise what she’s trying to do.
“Are you sure you can-? Just don’t strain yourself, Twilight, please. Be careful.” Honestly, you don’t know the first thing about magic. That’s the best advice you can think of.
The purple aura changes into a hot orange-red, pouring from her horn and flowing over the ice in front of her. Soon, the whole lake is covered in its warmth. You can hear the rapid cracking and splashing as the ice floes break apart and sink, melting away like ice cubes in a fire. To your ignominy, you also hear a pained grunt from Twilight as she struggles to keep the spell in check. Suddenly, the red-orange magic bursts with a flash. When the light dies down, you gasp; bright, blue glistening water, just as the lake should be, from one end to the other. Not a glimpse of ice in sight.
She did it. It’s finally over.
Twilight stands there, panting, looking at her fine work with a weak smile. Sweat drips from the head she holds with a fore hoof, no doubt feeling sore from her exertion. You hug her in thanks, glad to finally have your second home back to normal.
“Thank you, Twilight, thank you!” she tenderly hugs back, still panting slightly, “Are you okay?”
“Fine… fine…” she says between gasps. She reaches into her saddlebag and retrieves a large towel, spreading it out onto the soft, green grass before lying on it herself, “Lemme just… catch my breath.”
You lie down next to her, grateful for what she had done for you. If she was able to pull off a spell like that, she was no doubt close to a full recovery. If only you could somehow alleviate her strain of magical fatigue.
After several long minutes bathing in the sunlight, she rolls closer to you, until you’re lying face-to-face. You push yourself forward and plant a short, sweet kiss on her lips. Just as you back away, she pushes forward with a kiss of her own. You kiss back. She kisses back. Before you know it, you’re caught up in a playful kissing game, laughing and rolling around playfully with the one mare in the world who could make you feel this great.
You eventually end up over her, pinning her to the ground, assailing her with one fast kiss after another. She throws her hooves up, letting you know she gives up the fight. You win.
“You got me,” she giggles, her face a vibrant red, “I just need someplace to cool down for a bit.” She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead as indication. The feeling is mutual; being this close to her takes a lot out of you!
You look around for somewhere with ample shade, maybe a nearby tree or rock. There’s nowhere you could call ideal for cooling off, except…
“What about the lake?” you ask, “We’d be the first ponies in weeks to swim in it! And I promise you won‘t get hypothermia this time; the water‘s great in summer!”
You extend a hoof to help her up. Smiling, she accepts it, and you both soon find yourselves wading waist-deep in the lake’s blue watery caress. By Celestia, how you’ve missed this feeling.
Twilight seems perfectly happy in the shallow edge of the lake, keeping her hooves on the ground below the shimmering surface. You carry on wading, until you’re treading water. A little further out, and you reach a nice deep part of the lake. Your favourite spot.
You hear Twilight shout your name from the shallow part. “What are you doing?” she calls out.
“I’ll just be a minute; I’m checking up on some things!” You call back, readying yourself for a dive, “Well, maybe two or three minutes…”
“Hold on a second!” she swims inelegantly over to you, kicking her hooves in the water like a doggie paddle. Unlike you, swimming is certainly not her special talent.
Once she reaches you, she treads water by your side. “You’re going under, aren’t you?” she asks, “Let me come too, I wanna see what it’s like down there!”
You think for a moment, recalling that she can hardly hold her breath for more than a minute, “Do you know a water-breathing spell?”
“No.” She replies, “Well, actually, yes, there is such a thing as a gill-giving spell, but it’s really complicated to use. While a simpler spell, like glimmer-wing, changes the target’s spine and shoulder blades to accommodate wings, the gill-giving spell alters your entire respiration system. So it’s way too complex for me to cast. For now, that is. Sorry.”
That was a mouthful of an answer. So much for a straight yes or no. You take it as a no.
“Then you’ll have to make do with a deep breath, that’s all I can suggest.”
She nods obediently, inhales sharply, and disappears under the water with a quiet splash. One, two, three, four, five seconds later, she resurfaces with a gasp and a splutter.
“That was a practice!” she clarifies, wiping her sopping wet mane out from her eyes.
You chortle; it’s the little things like this that make her so adorable. “If you say so. Stay close to me, Twilight, and don‘t be afraid to swim back up if you need to.”
She concurs. Just as you’re both about to dive, you notice she’s wearing a look of determination, as if she’s coming up against some huge barrier. Wow, is swimming really that much of a challenge for other ponies?
Nevertheless, you take the plunge with her, leaving behind the world above for the deep wonders you’ve been unable to revisit for weeks.
Broken beams of sunlight shine through the lake’s surface, their entwining patterns flashing on the lakebed. The water’s cool, welcoming caress surrounds you as you swim deeper, checking all of the familiar rocks and crevices by the lake bottom.
Tiny fish dart about among the plants and rock formations, seemingly unfazed by the recent rapid-freezing and thawing experience; most of them survive Winter Set-Up and Winter Wrap-Up each year, when the lake is meant to be frozen, so they certainly had no trouble surviving a brief, unscheduled frost. The lake life was odd, to say the least, but it always had a habit of balancing itself out, like most habitats.
You continue to drift through the water, content at finally being able to enjoy your swimming again. A figure of bright purple catches your eye as it swims beside you. Twilight, of course. You’re surprised she’s still down here with you, considering her swimming ability.
Her mane and tail wave to the water's whim, their hairs dancing as if they have a life of their own. She’s smiling at you, despite one or two signs of unease. A stream of bubbles pours from her snout. Somehow, you find her a wonderful thing to watch as she gracefully swims by. She may not have realised it before, but the water suits her.
If there’s one thing you love about being underwater, it’s how the whole world seems to run in slow motion. You take Twilight by the hoof, pulling her towards you. She embraces you, her hooves holding onto you tightly as the two of you drift in your small, blue paradise. You embrace her in return, your bodies pressing snugly into each other, your faces touching by the snout. You can think of no better time.
You hold the back of her head with a hoof as she holds yours. You pull her head forwards, both of your mouths parted, welcoming the kiss. The connection grows deeper, as deep as the depths you both drift in. With locked lips, your tongue makes a dive of its own, pushing tenderly, eagerly into Twilight’s parted mouth. She gives a blissful sigh in response, a sigh that takes the form of bubbles departing from her lips. Your tongues lather each other, that familiar, electric taste of berries - no, the taste of Twilight Sparkle - mix in the water surrounding you both. You and your lover in your own watery world. The perfect moment you’d never want to end.
Sadly, all good things have to; for a split second, Twilight’s grip on you tightens. Her stomach twitches, convulsing under the strain. A sign of desperation. The kiss ends as she pulls out of it, placing a hoof over her mouth, trying to stop the unwanted impulse. The perfect moment broken by the simplest of needs. The desire to breathe.
You gesture your head towards the surface, letting her know it’s alright. She flashes you an apologetic look - she’s as sad to end the fun as you are - before hastily pecking you on the lips and kicking upwards, making a break for the air above. You swim alongside her, despite not needing to surface yourself; you’ve hardly been under for a minute or two.
The lake’s calm waters break when Twilight emerges with a splash, filling her lungs with the cool, crisp lakeside air. You calmly raise from the depths yourself, without so much as causing a ripple. You encouragingly nudge the panting purple pony next to you in congratulations.
“Not that I was keeping track,” you say casually, “but I think we were down there for well over a minute, probably one and a half. I guess that’s a new record for you.”
“I had a good reason to stay down there,” she coos, wiping her damp mane from her seductive, half-lidded eyes. “I couldn’t just turn down a kiss from my handsome stallion, no matter where we are.”
She looks so beautiful with her wet hair. Swimming up to her, you tell her so in a whisper.
“Thanks.” she whispers back, edging closer to you herself. You can tell she isn’t finished from her business under the water. “Now, where were we..?”
For the rest of the day, you enjoy swimming with her on the surface, diving below and showing her the wonders under the water, playing and splashing about in the shallow parts… and exchanging more wet kisses in the lake (your new favourite lake-based activity) with the mare you love.
Your long, wet sessions are separated by breaks, lying down with her on the towel by the grassy lakeside, sharing snacks throughout the day taken from your nearby shack‘s fridge and cupboards, and curling up with her as the sun slowly lowers itself towards the horizon.
“You know, I think I’ve started getting better at this whole swimming thing.” Twilight muses as the sky slowly turns orange.
“After one day?” you tease, “Maybe tomorrow you’ll be better than me!”
“Nah,” she giggles, “You’ve been swimming all of your life, I haven’t!”
“That’s the joke.”
“Oh. Right.”
After a brief pause to watch the sun sink a little more behind the distant hills, you turn back to her. “Wanna go for one more swim, before it gets dark?”
She thinks for a moment, before flashing a devious look that suggests she’s just had an idea.
“You know,” she says, “Perhaps I’m better than you at swimming already.”
You laugh; surely she’s kidding? “Are you asking for a diving race or something? First one to reach the bottom?” you quip, “Yeah, you’d beat me at that; you’d just sink like a rock!”
“Oooh, harsh!” Twilight jokingly cringes. Man, you got her good with that one. “I was talking about a breath-hold contest; whoever stays under the longest wins. Unless you‘re scared that I‘ll beat you at it.”
“Hah, if you say so.” you pick yourself up from the towel, and head back towards the waters with her, eager to show off, “You’re not gonna use any freaky magic to turn yourself into a fish or give yourself gills or anything?”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” she smirks, “I‘ve got other strategies…”
Okay, now you know for certain that she’s hiding a trick or two. She’d have to if she had any way to beat you at your own game. By this point, you’re both treading water again in the lake’s centre, ready to dive. Bring it.
“On three, okay? One, two, three!”
You inhale, poised to plunge… when out of nowhere, Twilight lunges towards you, throwing herself around you and locking with you into a surprising, yet welcome kiss just as you both disappear under the water.
So there you are, sinking blissfully through the deep lake again, with your lover passionately attached to you. The surface above is painted orange from the sunset; the lakebed itself slowly darkens the lower you sink.
You don’t care; Twilight is with you, her tongue dancing with your own in a haze of wet passion and exhilaration. Her taste - you still haven’t placed it perfectly - excites your senses, similar to wild berries tingling with a latent magic. Your forelegs hold her as tightly as she holds you, trying to take as much of this wonderful sensation as possible before it inevitably ends again. If this is her idea of a contest, you wouldn’t correct her!
You feel a faint bump from behind you; the lakebed. It seems you’ve both sunk right to the bottom, since you were both too busy with each other to bother staying afloat. With your back against the lake’s bottom, Twilight herself lands on top of you, pinning you down. This doesn’t deter you in the slightest, since you‘re as lost in Twilight mouth as she is in yours.
A stray purple hoof, once wrapped around you, begins to wander as you kiss. It brushes past your mane and down your body, taking in your every detail as is slips lower and lower. Past your chest. Past your stomach. Reaching and stroking the inside of your thighs and-
You flinch in surprise when you feel her hoof grabbing… what she grabs. A firm yet enjoyable, slow caress that sends shivers through you. Why in the world is she doing this to your..?
You get the answer a moment later; an impulsive wave of pleasure hits you, making you instinctively sigh in ecstasy, releasing a steady outburst of bubbles. You pull out of the kiss, biting back your lips when you realise what you did, but it’s too late - a portion of your air, now in the form of a bubble cloud, is already well on its way to the surface.
So that’s how she intends to stay under longer than you. That cheeky mare. You deviously decide that two can play at that game. Time to pay her back in kind. What’s one of the most sensitive areas of a unicorn again? Ah yes. The horn.
Your fore-hooves press firmly on the base of Twilight’s horn, before running seductively upwards towards the tip, and back down again. The beautiful mare freezes in shock at your touch, her free foreleg gripping you tightly as she fights back a response. Grinning, you vigorously rub her horn, massaging the very tip, teasing it up and down, knowing the reaction you want to get from her. For good measure thrown in, you move in closer to her and slowly slide your tongue over her lips, savouring her arcane berry essence as your hooves work at her horn.
Every inch of Twilight’s body squirms at your continual caressing, your massaging, your licking, as her chest quivers, heaving as it fights back her urge to moan, her urge to breathe. It’s all too easy for you; part of you wants to beat her at this so-called contest, yet you also don’t want it to end. For obvious reasons.
Your mind is fighting for what should be the most prevalent thought; either ‘this is the most wonderful feeling in my life’ or ‘sweet Celestia, I need to breathe so badly’. Another thought; you wonder how she’s still underwater with you, considering how long she usually lasts.
Out of consideration and concern, you cease massaging her horn, bringing your hoof down to her face in an attempt to get her attention. When she looks at you, you silently mouth at her, asking her if she’s okay.
To your surprise, she simply takes your hoof and, with a grin, guides it back to her horn, asking you, pushing you to carry on regardless. She actually likes this sort of thing? Whether it’s a spur-of-the-moment passion, or a brainless lust that takes over, you decide that you like it too.
The faintest stream of bubbles escape from her lips as she lets loose a shudder. Yet she makes no attempt to make a break for the surface, despite her struggles. Neither do you, despite your burning, protesting lungs; her hips gain a mind of their own under the fit of passion, pressing, bumping, shifting against yours again and again, each bump building the pressure in your twitching shaft. Never mind the contest; you want to get the job done first. She wants you to get it done. You want her satisfied with your work.
Her hind legs, by this point, are wrapped around your waist, and her undercarriage area is feverishly sliding against yours, threatening to make you burst from the stimulation. Fighting back the obvious primal urges (in both mating and breathing) you lean in towards Twilight for the kill, rubbing her horn faster and faster, harder and harder.
She’s trembling uncontrollably by now, holding her rapidly-approaching groans inside desperately to conserve her air. Her horn begins to release one small discharge of sparks after another; she’s so close to finishing, but her fiercely convulsing chest aches to hold itself in for another second. You can relate; your climax is so close, your foolish, lecherous thoughts preventing you from trying to surface until you’re done. You continue to massage Twilight’s horn until the sparks reach a consistent flow of electric bliss, until…
Her reaction is something you’ll never forget; every single muscle in Twilight’s body tenses, her horn seems to explode with light, her large, stunning eyes rolling back into her head, and a fountain of bubbles gushing from her mouth, accompanied by a sub-aquatic wail of pleasure that to echoes throughout the whole lake. Her soft undercarriage collides with your private area once again, so energetically, that you can’t help but feel your own climatic rush of relief as the situation before you unfolds. You moan in the sensual release, giving you an unwelcome reminder that you might want to swim upwards very soon. Right now, for example-
Suddenly, the energy from Twilight’s horn discharges; an explosive, magical pulse in the water, knocking the little remaining air right out of your lungs, and your senses right out of your skull.
Your ears are filled with a deafening ring, and your eyes burn from the bright light. But the most worrying feeling of all is the screaming throb from your chest as your breathing reflex finally caves in, and the water is dangerously choked down your throat. Out of sheer panic, you flail your hooves around, relying on the only sense you have left - touch. You don’t even know what you’re searching for, the surface, or… oh no.
Where’s Twilight?
Where is she!?
She was here a moment ago!
You can’t see, hear, feel her anywhere! Is she alright!?
What if she‘s- oh dear Celestia no! No-no-no!
Head for the surface! No, wait, don't! Not yet! Not until you find her! Not until you know she’s safe!
For royalty's sake, please let her be safe... please...
Black patches start to invade your consciousness. Your brain begins to shut down, your dazed eyes losing the will to stay open.
Just before you black out, you could have sworn you saw an angel close in on you from above.
And so it ends. In the depths of your favourite lake, having the greatest sensual rush you can remember with the love of your life. Personally, you could think of worse ways to go. It’s just a shame it had to go so horribly wrong.
Your last thoughts are a prayer to whatever's beyond. You pray that she managed to get out safely. And if she did… you pray that she’ll live a healthy, happy life without you.
You aren’t sure how much time has passed. Amidst the blackness, you feel a strange thudding feeling on your chest, followed by a strange taste in your mouth. Then more thudding. Then that weird taste again. What is that?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The thumping doesn't sound like a heartbeat of any kind. No, it was more like somepony was actually hitting you in the chest. That’s a terribly rude thing to do to the recently deceased. As soon as you figure out how to be a ghost or something, you should totally haunt whoever’s doing that.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
That taste has come back again, and you could swear you’ve sensed it somewhere before. Maybe a really good meal you had once upon a time? Your favourite scent? It tastes kind of like… electrical berries or something. That doesn’t make sense. Maybe it’s just your imagination.
Wait a minute!
That’s the taste of… her!
You feel yourself being thrust back into consciousness, back into the land of the living. With a forceful cough, you spew out the water clogging your lungs, and finally inhale the fresh air you thought you’d never reach again. Your eyes finally open to the sight of the stars in the clear night sky. It was sunset, the last time you checked - how long were you out?
It takes a full moment to adjust to the low humming still in your ears, and another to regain your bearings.
You’re lying on a familiar towel, covering grass by the edge of the lake, facing upwards towards the sky. Your eyes focused on the purple unicorn kneeling over you, with a panic-stricken face and tears rolling down her cheeks. You notice she’s about as drenched as you are, her mane dripping wet and sticking to her face again. When she sees you open your eyes, you hear her almost mouth your name in disbelief. The next thing you know, she’s wrapped her fore-hooves around you in a tight embrace, tearfully kissing your face over and over and over.
“You’re awake! Oh thank Celestia, you‘re awake!” she cries between kisses, “I thought you were gone for good! I‘m so sorry! I should never have gone overboard with my magic like that! I should have had more control! I should‘ve warned you!”
“Twilight-”
“And after I… ugh, finished… I just did the first thing I could think of! I tried to teleport us back to the surface at the last moment, but for some reason you didn’t teleport with me!”
“Twilight, it’s okay, please stop crying-”
“And I was so worried and I came back to pull you up and you weren’t moving and you weren’t breathing and I thought you were… dead…” her cries deteriorate, turning into barely comprehendible sobs. “And it was my own… stupid idea… all my fault…” You calmly hold her still, and wipe away a tear from her reddened eyes.
“Hush, It’s okay, it's not your fault. I’m still here, Twilight. I’m not leaving anytime soon.” you help brush her damp hair out of her beautiful face. “And even if I have to run a stupid risk like that every single day I’m with you, Twilight Sparkle, I’d still do it. I can’t just quit you and walk away, I just can’t! I love you way too much for that.”
Twilight’s bottom lip quivers as she stares dumbstruck from your words. She opens and closes her mouth wordlessly as she tries to gauge how very much those words mean to her. Finally, she goes for the actions-speak-louder-than-words route, throwing herself forward and planting her lips against yours.
You feel her wonderful tongue slather over your lips, which you are more than happy to open, as you blissfully exchange hot saliva and breath with the one you love. Without breaking contact from the feast of stimulation in your mouth, you arrange yourself so you’re lying on top of her, as she lies on her back, hind legs spread apart, twitching in arousal, begging you to come closer…
You throw her a questioning glace. She smiles back. Without a single word spoken, you and Twilight both simply go with the flow of nature, right there by the side of the lake, letting your bodies loose in the blur of passion and lust with nothing but the moon and stars to bare witness.
*******
The next morning, you awaken as the sun’s light flows over the hills surrounding the lake. You notice Twilight sound asleep, curled up across from you, using your stomach as a pillow. Poor lass, she must be exhausted after all you went through with her last night. And boy, the things you went through with her! As smoothly and quietly as possible, you wriggle out from under Twilight’s head, and gently lower it to the floor. You stare out at the lake you very nearly drowned in just a night ago, and decide you may as well wash some of the dirt off; one of many hazards from sleeping on the grass with nothing but a towel for a bed.
A few minutes later and you’re in your lake again, scrubbing your mane in an attempt to get some of the mud out. You’d use your shower back at the shack, but personally, the lake’s always been there when you need it. You don’t even hold a grudge for what it nearly did to you last night.
You hear the sound of splashing coming from behind you. Turning around, you find Twilight awake and paddling her way towards you. You secretly hope you didn’t wake her as you were washing yourself…
“I hope you slept well,” she says, hugging you, “I know I did. Thanks for making last night the best night I’ve ever had, except for… you know, that close call we had.” You can feel her hooves stroking your back as you embrace. You hug her in return.
“About that,” you muse, “I suppose that makes us even.”
“Huh?” Twilight gives you an odd look, tilting her head to one side, “How so?”
“Well,” you didn’t like bringing it up again for her, but it seemed relevant enough, “I nearly drowned you a few weeks ago, didn’t I? When you fell through the ice? But then I saved you and did what I could to help you get better.”
“And just last night,” she finishes, “I nearly drowned you, and then saved you just like…” she giggles, “Wow, we’re getting more alike every day!”
“Oh really?” you ask, lips curling into a sly smirk. You pull her closer to you, pulling her through the water you both drift in, until it becomes deep enough to dive in. “If we’re so alike, then, what am I about to ask for?”
“Another… contest?” she guesses, pulling a similar smile, “Are you sure you’re up for it?”
Whoa. She really can read your intentions. Almost like a book. She loves books, almost as much as you love swimming. But swimming pales in comparison to how much you love Twilight Sparkle. A peck on her lips reminds her of that.
“I’ll be more careful this time,” you promise, “On three, okay?”
You both hold onto each other, readying yourselves for another plunge; hopefully one of many, many more.
You perform the countdown together.
“One. Two. Three!”
Gasp
Splash
(Spoiler; you now have an underwater pony fetish, hopefully not a drowning fetish, more than likely a Twilight Sparkle fetish, perhaps a tongue-kissing fetish, maybe a horn fetish, a chance of a milkshake fetish, and, in extreme cases, an electrical berry fetish. However, if you somehow gained a wingboner fetish while reading this story, you weren‘t really paying attention!) - Crowley
