A series of short stories (under 2000 words) based around songs
Mostly unconnected short stories based around songs I heard and liked. The Youtube link for the song that inspired each chapter will be in the Author's Note, and the title of each chapter will have any pairings listed in it. This series will be sporadic to update, due to each chapter being written as the song hits me. Also, if you want to suggest a song, go ahead. If it fits, I'll write it.
Lips of an Angel (FlutterDash, light FlutterMac/ SoarinDash)
Rainbow Dash rolled over at the sound of her phone buzzing on the floor. With a groan, she reached for it and glanced at the face. Fluttershy. She darted across the room, yanking the phone off the floor as she slipped out into the hallway and shut the door in a silent movement. She pressed the button and raised it to her ear, half-checking the time on the wall-clock. Two A.M. “Flutters?” The butter colored Pegasus on the other end made a half-choked sound, and Dash flinched, “Are you okay?” She whispered, making an effort to not wake Soarin from his snoring on the bed. Another sound, a barely audible one that Dash recognized from her closest friend. She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door, ignoring the sleep-muttering of ‘pie’. “Geez, ‘Shy, I can barely hear you. Speak up.” Her brain started puzzling through the words Fluttershy managed to get out at a high enough volume for the phone to pick up. Another glance at the door behind her, and Dash ran a hoof through her mane, teeth pressing on her lip. The words she was hearing from her friend. Yes, Dash was happy that the two nearly mute ponies, Fluttershy and Macintosh Apple, had finally gotten together. She had almost cried when they announced their first date. Almost. She was a Wonderbolt, and stars didn’t cry. A blue hoof scribbled out a rough note on one of the scraps of paper lying around. A poster maybe, she couldn’t really tell in the dim lighting provided by the phone. But for the scratching of the pen on paper, and the background snoring from both Soarin, and Macintosh, over the phone, there was silence. She stuck the note to the fridge with a lump of cloud, and grabbed her saddlebags and the scarf Fluttershy had knitted for her back when they were fillies. It was ratty and tattered, and still far too big, but it was a symbol now. With one last glance at the door, she pulled the scarf up over her muzzle and slipped out onto the porch. “’Shy, I’m on my way. Hang on.” She hung up her phone, and slipped it into her saddlebag before flipping off the side of the porch and diving at the ground. She reached the middle of Ponyville proper and banked into a level coast, speeding through the town silently. Without flapping, she curled around the hill and rolled up over the gate of Fluttershy’s small cottage. She twisted her wings and hard-braked. Without a sound, her hooves touched down on the grass, denting the delicate blades, not that she cared at that point. She reached the door, and was about to knock when it crept open. Yellow slid out the door, trailed by pink as Fluttershy squeezed past the solid sheet of wood. No sounds passed between the two, just unspoken messages. Rainbow calmly wrapped her hooves around Fluttershy and lifted her into the air, carrying her up into the sky, “C’mere, Flutters. I’ve gotcha.” A nearby cloud made a seat for the two Pegasi to settle onto, and Rainbow loosened her grip on the smaller Pegasus, “I’m here for you. Always.” Yellow lips met blue as Fluttershy melted into Rainbow’s arms. The blue Pegasus simply sat there, arms wrapped around her friend, wings encasing them both as the yellow alternated between kisses, sobs, and various other sounds Rainbow knew intimately, but could not describe. The emotion she always attempted to keep tucked away bled out as she held her friend. Sitting still was not one of Dash’s particularly strong abilities, except when she was sleeping, but she couldn’t fall asleep now, not with Fluttershy in her arms, weeping. Slowly, she came closer to her friend, responding to the touch, pressing back as Fluttershy kissed her. The smaller Pegasus was starting to tire, she could tell, and Dash let her wings go limp, revealing the pair to the moon overhead. “I’m sorry Dashie. I couldn’t…” Dash flinched at Fluttershy’s words. Her own voice came back alien, disturbingly soft for the boisterous mare, “’s okay, ‘Shy. I know how it is. I know how hard it is to leap off that cliff for the first time. I was there once too. ‘Sides, you’ve always got me. Always.” Fluttershy looked into Dash’s eyes, tears leaking from the edges, “I…Thank you.” Dash smiled and pulled her friend close again, letting the yellow Pegasus fall asleep on her shoulder. Whatever stresses Fluttershy had running through her mind had vanished the moment her chin had hit Dash’s back. Every time. Fluttershy would do something outside her comfort zone. She would have a breakdown. She would find Dash. They would make out, sometimes more. Fluttershy would fall asleep on Dash’s shoulder. The blue Pegasus peeked over the side of the cloud, checking that it wasn’t drifting away from the cottage before settling her head to Fluttershy’s back and returning to her sleep. __ Luna looked down from the sky at the two Pegasi, observing them silently. Those two Pegasi, Loyalty and Kindness, both acted together as one, and shared everything. She remembered that from before her ‘Evil’ period. Though Luna and Celestia had never gone quite as far as those two, more than once Luna had found Celestia in her arms, seeking comfort the world was unable to provide the Solar diarch. Of course, it happened the other way too. Luna remembered waking up in Celestia’s arms after bad daymares. Not unlike the rare occasion she had to see Rainbow seeking comfort from Fluttershy. She dipped down and gently moved the cloud closer to the ground, where it would be safe from the brilliant rays of the rising sun, but still high enough to hide both Pegasi in its embrace, “Sleep away your pains, my little ponies.” The Diarch of the moon floated away, gliding on the lunar wind, up into the sky to watch over the rest of her sister’s subjects until the sun awoke.
“Vinyl, do you think we’re gonna make it?” The grey furred Earth pony mare pushed a brown oak barrel into the trunk of an auto-carriage, worry wrinkling her muzzle.
The white Unicorn mare levitated her pistol into its armpit holster, “Always do, babe. C’mon.” The Earth pony closed the trunk with a click and scooped up her cello case, settling it comfortably in the back seat, atop another pair of barrels. “I know you’re worried, but Neon said the road’s clear from here to Canterlot,” she took the other mare’s muzzle in her hoof and looked into her deep brown eyes, “We’ll be fine, Tavi.”
Octavia scooped up her rifle, a gift from Vinyl for their third anniversary, and slid into the shotgun seat, flicking her long, black tail into the hoof-well before closing the door and rolling the window down. The rifle was a comfortable weight in her hooves, though she had never needed it, outside of the shooting range Vinyl took her to occasionally. For an Earth pony, she was a stellar shot, part of the reason she now rode shotgun, instead of meeting her marefriend at the club. She smiled softly as the driver’s seat shifted suddenly, sinking under the weight of the white Unicorn settling into it, short, spiky mane nearly grazing the roof-panels. With a flash of magic, the engine roared to life. The Earth pony mare flinched instinctively, her sensitive ears tucking against her skull at the awful noise of grinding gears that the engine always made until it settled into motion.
Vinyl gently let the clutch out, the vehicle coasting slowly out of the garage, rocking to the counter-slosh of the nearly full barrels in the back. This was honestly Octavia’s favorite part of the entire operation. As much as she derided the experience of getting her mane tangled up in the wind, she had braided her mane so it wouldn’t tangle, and always stuck her head out the window, enjoying the way the wind flowed through her fur, and around her face as the vehicle raced down the highway. The white mare calmly shifted up three times more as they reached the open highway, “Tavi, eyes on the road. I don’ wanna get pulled over with this payload.”
Her marefriend pulled her head back in, pouting slightly, but she gripped the rifle more securely as the speedometer climbed. Finally, the shifter moved into its last position, allowing the heavily laden carriage settle into a high cruise. Octavia risked a glance at the little dial, slightly worried about how fast they were going. Seeing that it was almost to the part of the dial tagged with a red line, she sighed and pulled her seatbelt snugger against her belly, “Vinyl, please slow down. The sign says sixty five.”
“Naw, filly, see?” she pointed as they passed a large blue sign, “Says one twenty nine. I ain’t going hardly ninety five.”
Octavia had to resist the urge to smack her marefriend, instead pressing her forehead against the door-frame, “Vinyl Scratch, please, for five minutes, act like the mature mare you’re supposed to be. That’s the highway number, not the speed limit.” Fortunately, at that speed, they quickly reached the off ramp, and Octavia tensed up, holding the rifle higher as Vinyl drove through the sleepy little town of Ponyville, up to the club. The car slid to a stop in one of the few parking spaces available, designated for the rich, the famous, and the band. A second car, driven by Vinyl’s friend Pinkie Pie, skidded to a stop almost fender-to fender with the first, and the brightly colored party pony slipped out the window, moving to the back to grab a barrel. Vinyl grabbed one as well as helping Octavia load one onto her own back, and they started up the stairs. The club was practically invisible, hidden inside the warehouse district, but it stood out notably because the front door was guarded by a massive crimson stallion. The white mare raised a hoof and gripped the red stallion’s offered hoof, pulling herself into a half-hug with the Apple family stud, “Yo, Mackie. Wa’s the scene tonight?”
“Classical Remix,” short, sweet, to the point, just like the silent stallion always was.
“Boss. We’ll be sure to blow them away then,” she stepped through the door, and immediately another Apple stallion, Caramel, she thought was his name, took the barrel and hauled it over to an already overloaded table made out of barrels, stacked on barrels. She raised her hooves high in the air, “DJ PON3 is in da house!” A loud cheer rippled through the crowd, and Octavia had to cover her ears. She regretted not putting her earplugs on in the carriage, and made to tuck the small foam cylinders into her ears as soon as the barrel had been removed from her back, before heading back outside to grab another barrel. __ __ Vinyl Scratch, DJ PON3 to her fans, started up the crowd by spinning in a disk of backwoods music, drawing in the attention of the crowd with the soft twanging of non-existent strings. Some ponies danced, including, to her amusement, her marefriend, spinning around in her long black skirt, twirling like an elegant top, or, as Vinyl noticed the patterning in the skirt flaring, a record… She smiled and elbowed the stallion up on the stage with her, “Yo, Neon, check it. Tavi’s got some good spin on her tonight.” Neon Lights just shook his head, “Scratch, when are you gonna ask for her hoof. I know you’ve got the ring all ready to go.”
“…”
He shook his head, tossing his multi-colored mane, “Mares.” __ __ Vinyl slipped away from the stage, down to where Octavia was seated in a booth, catching her breath after a particularly fast-paced rendition of Trotchovsky’s eight twelve overture that had left her heart thundering in her chest, “Hey, filly, whassup?” Octavia turned, still panting for breath, and flushed from exertion, “You…You fiddled with the speed, didn’t you?”
“A’course, Tavi. Couldn’t have you dancing slow. I liked the jumps every time it dropped.”
Octavia reached out and tiredly wrapped her hooves around the DJ’s throat, “You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack. I swear you played part of it twice, just to scare me.”
“Naw,” Vinyl looked at her marefriend, hoof sliding down the grey mare’s back, even as her magic loosened the grip on her throat, “I just wanted to see that cute flank bouncing around.” __ __ Big Macintosh Apple leaned against the wall, watching as a police officer trotted up the stairs. Sheriff Locked Door, a dark striped Zebra, stopped just two steps below the top and reached into his jacket for a piece of paper. Macintosh knew what was on that paper, and his hoof reached for his pistol, “Sheriff, not tonight.”
The Zebra pushed the warrant back into his coat, “Mr. Apple, you know these parties, they’re illegal.”
The red stallion nodded, patiently.
“I would hate to see a fine, upstanding member of the community like you get arrested for being associated with such, but I will if I have to.”
Another nod. It would break AppleJack’s heart if he was arrested, and the farm would probably fall apart without him. He only kept the bouncer job because it gave him enough bits to do a little extra for his sisters.
“Next time, don’t be here. The brass are cracking down, and I think they want to do a trot-along with me next.”
“Much obliged, Sheriff.”
The Zebra was about to turn when Macintosh tossed him a small metal container, “You need this more than I do.” The sheriff nodded, catching the bottle in his teeth. He tucked it close to the warrant and trotted away. __ __ Celestia’s sun was just crawling over the horizon when Vinyl heard the grinding of wheels on her gravel driveway. That wasn’t right. Pinkie wasn’t due until tomorrow, and Carrot Top didn’t have a delivery until almost seven thirty at night. She stood up, pulling her head out of the engine compartment and her pistol from its holster in one smooth move. There, standing behind the door of his auto-carriage, was the sheriff. She sighed, “Sheriff.”
The Zebra pulled out a shiny metal bottle and raised it up over the door, “Macintosh says hi.” He tossed the bottle to her, and she caught it in a blue glow of magic.
There was a note tied to the neck, and she glanced at it, barely reading the words on it, but getting the main point, “I’ll pass on the message,” she tipped her hat and lowered her pistol as the sheriff climbed back into his vehicle and puttered away.
She galloped into the house, and shouted, “Tavi, get Pinks on the line. Tell her next week is Prohibition in Effect! The Brass is coming!”
Soarin looked at his new mare-friend. Spitfire was just as beautiful as the day he had met her. It had been a surprise to him, a complete reversal of everything he knew. __ __ Devoted to the art, Soarin had sworn to never give in to the baser instincts most colts were suffering through. He had sworn that the only place he could ever be happy was in the sky, flying his heart out. He never learned to dance. Never learned to sing. Never learned anything but flight. It just wasn’t his style. __ __ Spitfire had sworn that she would never let being a filly get in the way of flying as fast as the stallions, or as nimbly as the lighter ones. She flew every moment she could, training to be the best. Her parents said it was unhealthy to be so devoted to a single pursuit. They told her to get friends, a colt-friend, make some mistakes sometimes. They didn’t understand. __ __ His brother had gone off and given up on the Wonderbolts after he had found himself a mare. Soarin vowed to never give in to them. Looks be damned to Tartarus, he didn’t care. And for the most part, it worked. He made the Wonderbolts. He made it to tryouts. He met a filly there who had been his equal. Devoted to the art of flying. The perfect rival. __ __ Her parents had given up on trying to stop her when she came home with an application for Wonderbolts Training Camp. They let her go, on the condition that she came back with at least one friend. Well, Soarin wasn’t exactly a friend, a Rival sure. Stirred her emotions, and got her ready to fight. __ __ Spitfire made the perfect rival, despite being a filly. She was almost as fast as him, but could handle the tight turns better. Soarin knew this, and made every effort to reduce his own turn radius. He gave her tips to improve her speed, even loaned her some of his weights to help her build up the strength for those bursts. Still, she was a rival. Every Friday night, they raced. __ __ Soarin was a wonderful challenge. Spitfire almost thanked him when he let her use his weights. She almost let him win. Almost. She even gave him pointers on turning faster, and demonstrated how to tuck his feathers in to give him a shorter span with greater surface area to airbrake. Showing him was the closest she had been to anypony since her parents had let her leave for the Wonderbolts. Every Friday night, they crossed the threshold of that same bar at the same time, back to back. __ __ Soarin began to realize that it wasn’t just a rivalry when Spitfire woke him for an early morning race by smacking him with a pillow. Her pillow. He still almost won. It was worth being locked out of the stallions dorm and having to borrow Spitfire’s strawberry shampoo while she guarded the door. The pointed looks from his classmates went ignored. __ __ Spitfire knew it was more when Soarin let her win. Maybe she had whacked him too hard with that pillow. Maybe he was just hung-over from last night. Maybe he was too busy staring, like the rest of the colts. But that would mean he wasn’t a rival anymore. He denied letting her win, of course, being the modest stallion he was. He had then been locked out of his dorm, so she had let him use the shower in her dorm. Just a friendly act between rivals. No matter what the other colts acted like towards the strawberry scented colt. __ __ It was on graduation day that it happened. The two of them were Valedictorian and Salutatorian. They had been chosen to do a showcase to proe why they had made it that far. Before they took off, Soarin had given in to an impulse, and leaned his head close enough to Spitfire’s head that his muzzle was touching her ear as he whispered, “Remember that song.” She pressed her lips to his ear, “I know you still have two left wings.”
Soarin leaned to one side, an upraised wing clipping the play button on the stereo, as Spitfire dropped the other direction, both diving off the cloud platform. The ‘Skyborne Waltz’ echoed between the blue and gold figures as they shot into the sky. Twirl left, tuck right wing. Press right side to partner. Lock hooves. Flap left wing. Spin. Vertical flap. Rise. Break apart. Backwards loop. Tuck wings. The thump, swoop towards each-other. Snap into spin. Hoof to hoof, barrel to barrel. Just an instant, lips connect. Twirl apart. This was where Soarin always screwed it up. This time, his hoof rose into position as his wings flared, stopping him in a flying bow, jaw below his rear-hooves. Spitfire mimicked his position, slightly above him, fore-hooves sweeping her gown in a curtsey.
He refused to wipe his lips, leaving the tingly feeling of sweat and saliva as he started towards her again. He focused on her left fore-hoof. It was the key to the next part. Their hooves connected, and he rolled up, going perfectly horizontal as she spun underneath him, locking rear-hooves with him and forcing them into a sideways corkscrew. They released, spinning apart just a few meters as the music slowed again, and the moved into a side-to-side slow spin, Soarin’s powerful wing flapping just slightly slower, feathers tucked just slightly more to keep the power the same as Spitfire flapped in time. They began to slowly lower to the cloud, and Soarin made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Time stopped. He stopped. She stopped. They fell.
The cloud caught them, and bounced them into the air, where both recovered. Soarin glanced at Spitfire, “All part of the show, Spits?”
She nodded, barely noticeable, “Then we’ll give them a show.” They landed softly and Soarin bowed, beside a curtsying Spitfire, before he was roughly ripped to his hooves and his lips were mashed against hers. They broke just long enough for Spitfire to whisper, “You were off by three centimeters on that last corkscrew.” “Buck you.” “Not here,” Spitfire waved her hoof at the crowd.
‘Come on, Come on. Tavi, be awake.’ Vinyl Scratch rolled past a handsomely carved bush, staying low to the ground, her brilliant white coat covered in a black hoodie, crimson eyes fully exposed to the dim light. Her ears tracked back and forth, listening for the groundspony, hoping he didn’t hear her. Finally, she reached the wall, right below Octavia’s window. She picked up a rock, in her hoof, planning ahead, knowing that the slightest glow would give her away. Her hoof whipped up, flinging the rock to the window, ‘C’mon Tavi. Answer me already. I gotta know.’ After what seemed like forever, the window slid open, silently, and the grey furred mare stuck her head out the window, hissing down at Vinyl, “Stop it! My mum’ll kill me if you break the window.” A rope ladder dropped down, and Vinyl scrambled up, wiggling through the partially open window and rolling across the floor, settling onto her back on the thick carpet, “Have I told you yet how much I love your carpet?” Octavia clamped a hoof over Vinyl’s mouth, “Shh! Keep it down. You know my parents don’t want me dating a commoner, let alone a mare…” Vinyl smiled, and shot her tongue out, licking the frog of Octavia’s hoof, “C’mon Tavi, you know I’ll always be here for you, even if your ball-and-chain don’t like you rolling in the hay with another mare.” Octavia stared at her saliva coated hoof, then turned her gaze to Vinyl, “You couldn’t possibly be that cru…Oh, wait, yes you could.” Vinyl fluttered her eyelashes, and moved a hoof to the zipper on the front of her hoodie. The little metal tag started sliding down, but was suddenly yanked up to her throat as she was given a less-than-gentle shove under the bed, “Ta…” Vinyl’s voice shut off as she saw the door opening. Octavia had always been able to sense her parents better than the DJ ever could, which came in really hoofy right now. She watched as the tall stallion, Mozart Orchestral, stopped just a muzzle length from her floppy blue mane. Her breath caught in her throat as the tall stallion muttered something she could barely understand. A response she barely heard from Octavia. Raised volume. Called, and a Raise. All in, the stallion was unintelligible at that volume, which said something, for all the earsplitting bass Vinyl played with daily. The stallion started to turn around, and his brown tail brushed against her muzzle. Vinyl clapped her hoof across her nostrils, attempting to stop the sneeze. Didn’t take. Her head slammed into the bottom of the bed as she jerked back. Stars filled her eyes as she was hauled out by her hooves and rolled onto the bed. The stars cleared and she saw the angry brown eyes of Octavia’s sire. She hesitated to call him a father. “Explanation. Now.” There was no argument. The words spilled from Vinyl’s lips, unrestrained. “I…I…c..came to…” she stopped and swallowed, “I came here to rut your daughter senseless, in your house. I braved the dangers of your security system to get here, and I’m not leaving until…” A yellow haze of magic grabbed her ear and yanked her up, forcing her to follow the Unicorn composer, “I said, I’m not leaving!” Her own magic wasn’t strong enough to break his grip, but she continued to try, right up until he hoofed her off to the security stallion. “Get her off the grounds, and make sure she stays off them.” __ __ Vinyl tapped the catering server on the back of his skull, using a bit of magic to force him to sleep. Perfect. Now if only the one she had chosen to drop wasn’t an Earth Pony who probably outweighed her by a hundred kilos. The uniform was loose, but she managed to bunch it up with magic pins that she hid behind the trays. Sure they were heavier than she was used to levitating, but they were still just big round disks, just like her records. She followed another caterer through the door, making certain to keep unnoticed as she slid the trays onto a table and ducked away. Step one complete, she made a hasty gallop to the dining hall. The Unicorn serving the meal to Octavia’s family was white, and his magic was almost the same shade as her own. Perfect. She waited for him to pass, then to ensure that her ruse wasn’t discovered just yet, delicately pinched off his blood-flow to his brain until he dropped. It was a trick she had learned in the club, to settle unruly customers who tried to get up on stage with her. The body was tucked into a closet, and she grabbed a tray of fruit. Strawberries, the same color as her eyes, Octavia’s favorite. Perfect. She trotted through the door, head held high as she approached. None of the ponies at the table noticed as she arrived and started the tray around. A couple of them snagged the ripe berries, and Vinyl rearranged the remaining ones subtly as it moved, right up to Octavia. Then she got clever. The berries rolled past the Earth pony’s fork, forming the shape of several words, ‘Tavi, look up’, and she did. Brown eyes met red, and the grey mare had to resist the urge to speak up, her eyes instead passing a quick message to Vinyl, as she poked one berry, then daintily set her napkin on the table. “Mother, may I be excused for a moment?” Her mother glanced up from her own conversation, and nodded, “Very well dear. Do hurry, dessert is almost here.” Octavia almost leapt from her seat, slipping out into the hallway, where Vinyl met her after depositing the tray on the hall table. The two contacted, lips first, with a passion unseen by most. They were separated suddenly and violently by Octavia’s father, once more making use of the fact that he played a grand piano, and could easily levitate the entire monstrosity by himself. He set Octavia on the floor, “Honey, get back to the table. Dessert is ready. I will be right back,” he turned to Vinyl, “After I take out some trash.” As the stallion levitated her down the hall, he found that it was getting more and more difficult to float her and keep her quiet at the same time, so he set her down on the driveway, reaching out the window, “Depart immediately, and never come back. Next time, I will call the Guard.” __ __ Last try, Vinyl knew Octavia’s father was serious about calling the Guard. He never joked about anything. She waited patiently for the carriage crew to arrive, and slipped in with them. One seemed to recognize her, but kept her mouth shut, and let Vinyl join in, helping to secure the draw-lines to the six stallions who would be taking them to the opera. Vinyl slipped up onto the running board, waiting as Octavia approached, garbed in the most elaborate dress the DJ had ever seen. Fair enough, since it was the Canterlot Opera. Vinyl just had a page-colt’s hat and dust-coat to hide her identity. Her hoof reached out to help her mare-friend up into the carriage, and before she let go, her lips pressed against Octavia’s hoof. “Baby, I’m right here. I ain’t gonna give up on us just ‘cause your sire says to.” Octavia gasped, and flinched back, knocking Vinyl’s hat off. The shockingly blue mane stood out brightly, and almost immediately, Vinyl knew she was done for. She heard the older stallion shouting for the Guard, to arrest her. Buck. She could hear hooves clopping on the cobblestone, the arriving officers, there to arrest her. They were watching. Oh, Tartarus! She grabbed Octavia, not caring that she was wrinkling the dress that probably cost more than she made in a month, and mashed her lips to the grey mare’s. Gasps of shock and horror spread through the crowd, along with revulsion, but one voice stood out above them all. Octavia’s mother, “Oh, shut up!” The golden mare grabbed her husband by the ear, her Earth-pony strength lending her a bit of extra leverage as he dragged his head down, “Mozart! Let the filly alone! Can’t you see, it’s like me and you!” “But I’m a stallion!” “And that gave my poppa one more reason to hate you!” She glared at him, “Not that he could stop us. And neither,” she gestured at the two mares, no longer upright, but lying in a pile of fabric on the carriage floor, “will you stop them. Let it be.
Shining Armor looked down at his marefriend, “Cadence, you know I have to go. I signed up for this sort of thing.”
Cadence wiped her hoof across her eyes, “Shiny, don’t you be a hero. I couldn’t lose you, please come back.”
“I will, Cadey, I’ll be back, and we’ll get married. I promise.” She let go of his hoof and he started to merge into the line of soldiers marching down the road, on their way to the Griffon kingdom.
“Shiny, keep your head down. Promise me.” He nodded. He would do everything he could to come back to his mare, and to his family. __ The battle raged across seven hundred miles of border, Griffons and Ponies falling left and right. One group of Griffons had Shining Armor’s squad pushed back onto the back-side of a hill. He fired his horn over the dirt, dropping one Griffon in his tracks. With a howl of pain, one of his fellow soldiers dropped, clutching his bleeding side. Another salvo from the Unicorns in the squad pushed the Griffons back enough for the Pegasi to rocket up into the sky, including a young filly with a wandering eye. Derpy Doo shot into the sky, made a flawless backflip, and slammed into the dirt just a few meters from him.
“Commander, we’ve got a clear spot to advance. If we move quickly, we can get to a better position!”
The Commander smiled, and pointed forward, “GO!” Horns blasting away, the Unicorns led the Earth Pony artillery forward over the hill, through the field of corpses, into a natural trench that formed a bunker for them to set up the cannon. The Pegasi dropped in quickly. __ Cadence looked at the paper sitting in front of her. War reporters said the war was going well. The Griffons were being pushed back. Of course, the number of her neighbors who were receiving death-notices made her heart heavy. She was dreading getting a letter of her own. Twilight Sparkle, Shining’s little sister, held her close, “He’ll be fine. My BBBBFF has the best shielding spells in Equestria.”
“I sure hope you’re right, Twilight.” __ “We’re getting overrun here! I need a volunteer!” For a moment nopony raised their hooves, “Somepony to run back and get us some back-up!”
In an instant, Shining Armor’s hoof snapped up. His shields were strong enough to cover him for the run, and the reinforcements on the way back. The commander smiled, “We can hold on long enough for you to get back. Go.” __ Shining Armor stood at the front of a line of stallions, uniform battered, but worn with honor and pride. Cadence stood, hoof-to-hoof with him, “Shining Armor, you promised you wouldn’t be a hero.”
“I’m just doing my job, Cadence. I’ll be back in no time, and we’ll be wed that day.”
He didn’t miss the tears rolling down her face, the fear in her eyes, “I swear, Cadence, these Griffons won’t harm a hair on my head.” __ Ditzy cheered as she saw the arriving squads, “He’s back! Shining Armor’s back!” Shining Armor arrived, screaming as he sprinted across the ground, horn glowing brightly. A blue dome, covered in gore and junk, and shielding a squad. He reached the line, passed by the commander, and stopped at the bottom of the hill. The shield arrived, and washed over the remnant, followed by galloping hooves as the reinforcements shot past them, tearing into the Griffons. The commander patted Shining Armor on the shoulder, “Good job, colt. You’ve made it. You’re a hero.”
“I…I…” The white Unicorn dropped to the ground, and rolled onto his back, revealing the five Griffon arrows sunken into his chest. “I’m sorry Cadence. I couldn’t keep my promise.” __ The newspaper declared it a victory, the Griffons had surrendered all along the line, busted up by a backup force brought in by Shining Armor. She smiled at that. He had brought the end of the war. That was good. The letter sitting on her desk though, and heavy with paper and something else. It had a spot of blood in the corner. She refused to open it.
Twilight Sparkle picked up the letter, “Cadence, You need to open this letter. I’m certain that Shiny wanted you to read it, or he wouldn’t have sent it to you.”
Cadence placed her hoof on the letter, “Twilight, I know you think that, but…” She picked up the letter in her magic, “Twilight, go outside and play. I’ll be out soon.”
She peeled the tab back carefully, just like when she had first gotten it, but this time, she didn’t stop and reseal it. She pulled the letter out, shaking it to dislodge the gold horn-ring and the purple medal it was wrapped around. The embossed heart on the medal made her almost stick the letter back in the envelope.
Instead, she unfolded it and began to read.
Dear Mi Amore Cadenza, Cadence, I promised you I would come home, and we would be married. You warned me not to be a fool, to not throw my life away. Well, I got to be a hero today. Saved my squad, well, mostly. A few of them didn’t make it, but Steel-hoof is supposed to make a full recovery. Dark Shroud’s horn will be fully grown back in a couple of weeks. Crusher’s feathers will be back within the season, so he won’t have to wear those ugly prosthetics to fly, and Doc says Ditzy’s eye is alright. I took a few arrows to the chest, but the Doc says it’s not that bad. This letter will reach you before I do, but I wanted to make sure you got the ring I picked up for you on my way back out. See you soon, Cadey. -Shining Armor
At the bottom of the letter, in different horn-writing, was a slightly smaller message, written concisely and to the point, Private Shining Armor is being held for medical treatment at the Canterlot South Lunar Hospital for recovery. Due to injuries sustained in combat, he has received the attached Purple Heart. His expected release from the hospital is on August Fifteenth, though he will continue to meet with therapists to regain his full mobility and Magical capability for at least two years. PS: Lady Cadenza, your fiancée did an amazing thing for us. I don’t know what it was you said to him, but when he awoke with his chest open on the operating table, he very clearly emphasized that he didn’t want to be late to his wedding, and we’d better get him stitched back up and on his feet immediately. You’re lucky to have such a devoted stallion fighting for you. Thank you.
A tear rolled down her face, and she let it. Shining Armor had survived. The tear fell to the ground and exploded in the silence, followed by a rain of them. Both sorrow and joy filled the puddles on the ground by her hooves. The loss of so many, but the safety of so many more.
“Macintosh, Son, my life is over,” the old stallion coughed at his brilliant red son, “But yours has just begun. Promise me colt, Promise you won’t do what I’ve done. Walk away from trouble if you can. Turn the other cheek, they won’t think you’re weak. An Apple can’t be weak. You don’t have to prove it. I hope you’re old enough to understand that you don’t have to fight to prove you’re a Stallion.” Macintosh Apple nodded, tears rolling down his face. Behind him, his sisters sat with his grandmother. They hadn’t expected the old stallion to drop like he did. The fight he got in, it had crushed his ribs, and nearly killed him right there. He had just enough left to give Macintosh a few words of advice. He reached out and dropped his battered old hat on his older daughter’s head, and nodded to them both, “I’m sorry, kids. I really am.” With that, the stallion’s breath left him, and he was gone. __ Fifteen years had passed, and Macintosh had grown large. Ponies called him yellow, on account of his tendency to just leave if a fight ever was about to break out. Even his sisters called him on that more than once. How could he just walk away when they were insulting him like that. Only one didn’t. Fluttershy, a sweet, shy butter-colored mare who fit perfectly with the silent giant. He never had to prove anything to her, she would just melt into his muscular body easily, without struggle. They were getting married next June. __ The Diamond Dog gang knew he wouldn’t fight when they broke into his house and assaulted Fluttershy. The three of them took turns with her, not caring how she screamed, not caring that the mountain of a stallion might be back soon. He would just run away, they reasoned. They left her beaten and bloody on the kitchen floor when they left. __ Macintosh opened the door, tired after a long day of hauling apples, and stopped. The soft, almost inaudible sound from the kitchen drew him away from the door, boots still securely on his hooves. On the floor, sobbing into her mane, Fluttershy curled away from the clomping sound of his boots. He sat on the floor, “Fluttershy. Who did this?” The yellow mare choked out three names. Macintosh stood and started for the door, “Ah’ll be back.” He stopped at the side of the door and picked up the family photograph from years ago, when he was still a gangly colt, getting his muddy mane tangled by his father’s cracked hoof. He heard his father’s last words. A tear formed on the edge of his vision, “Dad, I’m sorry.” He laid the picture down, hiding the image against the table, and stormed out the door, not even bothering to grab his coat. __ The gang laughed at him when he walked into the tavern. It wasn’t like he was a threat. He’d been working all day, and, they knew he would just back down from a fight. They pulled out their knives. Other patrons started leaving, because even if Macintosh didn’t fight back, there would be a mess. Even the Bartender started closing up, getting ready to clean the mess he knew would happen. Macintosh waited until everyone else had cleared out, it was the polite thing to do. Then, the massive red stallion started walking towards the door. The Dogs started crowing at him, mocking him, “Hey look! Ol’ yeller’s leavin’. Macintosh stopped at the closed door, gripped the lock, and twisted it softly. Silence reigned as the metal bolt clicked into place, followed by a sound like tearing metal as he ripped the key off the deadbolt. The key rang out in the silence as he threw it to the ground. “Ha! Y’all jus’ locked yerself in ‘ere with us!” “’Ee’s stupid as ‘e is yeller!” Twenty years he had let them go. Twenty years he had suffered their mockery. Twenty years he had dealt with it, hidden the pain, ignored it. Then, they hurt Fluttershy. The first Dog didn’t even get up from his stool before a work-hardened hoof collided with his ribcage hard enough to break it. The wounded member of the gang hit the floor with a wet thump, probably dead. Most of the ponies watching through the windows would have called it justified. The second almost stabbed him. His tree-bucking instincts burst through, shattering the creature’s ribcage, then its spine on the wall behind it. The third started stepping back, “Hey! Hey! No reason to keep fighting. Come on! It was all a joke. Stop it! I’ll buy you a beer! I’ll stop teasing you! I promise!” Macintosh looked at the two corpses, a sad look in his eyes, and picked up a straw from the counter. The straw went into his teeth, and he thoughtfully chewed on it, looking away from the last Dog, who still hadn’t stopped begging for mercy. The Earth pony turned around, and started for the knife-wielding gang member. Every step brought him closer. The Dog pushed back against the wall, “Come on, colt! Leave me alone! You’ve already got two murders against you!” “You have more.” “So! The justice system will take care of me eventually!” “That won’t fix Fluttershy.” “Is that was this is all about? Your little whore!” The Dog seemed to get smaller as he curled into the wall, “You know, she was crying out your name the whole time! Had ta belt her across the face to make her stop!” “Stop digging.” “Oh yeah! And you know what! Tomorrow, the rest of the gang’s gonna be the…” The Dog stopped abruptly as he found his forehead being bashed into the much thicker stallion’s skull. “This one’s for Fluttershy,” Macintosh pushed forward, legs that could split tree-trunks pushing his rock-like skull against the stone wall until the softer skull between the two split like a grape in a press. He pulled his head back, shaking the blood off, and walked over to the counter. A small stack of bits materialized on the register, “Sorry about your door,” he kicked the door, breaking off the lock so he could exit.
Applejack stared at the cloud house floating on the outskirts of Ponyville. She couldn’t get up there, not without help. She didn’t know if she wanted to though. She hoped, she pleaded, she got down on her knees and begged Celestia to help her. She couldn’t get to what she wanted.
Sure, she was happy living on the ground, in an orchard. It was her home, her family lived there. Everything she knew was there in Ponyville, on the ground. Everything but that one, single, rainbow maned Pegasus. She tried not to think about the day she had lost any chance of getting the object of her desires.
The sun was shining, of course. Celestia and Luna were there, after all it was a big deal. It wasn’t every day one of the Elements of Harmony got married. Rainbow Dash looked so beautiful up there, garbed in a pearlescent white that was just barely transparent enough to allow her blue coat to shine through. Beside her, in a shimmering blue flight suit, stood Soarin. Applejack wore a golden dress that she wished was darker, that she was the one standing across from Rainbow, instead of the one behind her. All five of the other Elements stood in a row, dresses, made by Rarity, forming the colors of the rainbow, in honor of their friend.
They were opposed by Celestial Gold and Lunar Blue suited stallions. Thunderlane, Macintosh, Shining Armor, and two Wonderbolts whose names Applejack had never bothered to learn. When Celestia had asked if anypony objected, she bit her tongue. Tried not to speak. It was painful, lying to Celestia, to Luna, to herself. But Rainbow was happy.
She let the tears wander down her muzzle, the strain of the memory too much. She would give anything, now more than ever, to get one more chance. Her eyes rose, stared at the trees that her family had cultivated for four generations. Everything she had. Everything she needed. And she would give it all up for a pair of wings, and Rainbow Dash’s heart.
She pressed her head against the nearest tree, forcing her head against it until the bark began to split, trying to squash the memories down once more. She survived without her closest friend by her side, but was she living?
Rainbow had been so happy when Soarin had asked her on a date. Not because it was Soarin, but because it was a Wonderbolt. She would have been equally happy had it been Spitfire, or Fleetfoot, or any of the other numerous Wonderbolts Rainbow could name off like she had the whole roster memorized, which she probably did. The first date had gone well, as had the second. Three months of that, and Applejack began to realize that the little trysts behind the barn were less and less frequent, that the two were spending less time together. She had cried for hours.
Soarin popped the question at one of the strangest places. Somehow, Applejack didn’t know how much time or bits he had spent, but he had somehow managed to get a significant portion of the crowd to hold up little letter signs spelling out the question. They had all raised their signs at the conclusion of a trick that ensured that Rainbow would see the question at the same time he asked it. She had almost dropped out of the sky, the suddenness overcoming her temporarily. Her response was too soft for anypony to hear, but the giant screen showing the moment made reading her lips easy enough. She said yes. Applejack wanted to bury her head in the cloud and never come out.
Before, before all of that…She tried to think about how much fun the two fillies had had in the fields, hiding out in the barn. She remembered, in teary eyed recollection.
”Macintosh! Git outta here!” The Apple stallion had staggered out of the barn backwards on his rear hooves, his forehooves being too busy covering his eyes at what he had seen. Applejack pulled the barn door closed and looked over her shoulder at Rainbow Dash, “I swear, you knew he was coming. You did that on purpose.”
Rainbow responded with a crude gesture involving her hoof and tongue, “You were having fun. Now I am too.”
Applejack tackled her friend into the hay, pinning her down on the coarse yellow fibers, “My brother’s gonna be scarred fer life!”
“BUT-“ Rainbow raised her hoof, like she was going to count off points. Applejack sighed, and motioned for the Pegasus to continue “-He’ll knock next time. And he’s not gonna try and check on us when we’re wrestling anymore.” Applejack couldn’t fault her for that.
She just wished it could go back to the way it was. Back when Zap Apple Cider held more meaning and inside jokes than her brother could ever figure out, or ever wanted to.
”—and we’ll call our foal Zap Apple, ‘cause of course we’ll use your name, and they’ll definitely get my mane.” Eight year old Rainbow Dash was a prankster, sure, but she was unnaturally cool-headed about the orange filly she had become fast friends with after her family moved to Ponyville. Despite the luminescent blush on her cheeks that she swore could fry eggs, “Hopefully we’ll get a more-“ Two blue hooves air-quoted “-appley color than Orange. Some shade of red, or green. Maybe yellow, like your sister. Or perhaps even a bluish color, so it looks just like a Zap Apple.”
Applejack just stared. As far as she knew, both from Granny and Macintosh, as well as the cows, two fillies couldn’t even make a foal. Then again, Unicorn magic could do a lot of things. Maybe they would figure it out when they were older.
She smiled, head still pressed against the tree. Now that the source of those jokes was lost to her, all she had left were her memories, and her farm. But all of it meant so little compared to her cyan friend, no, lover.
“Hey, Tavi, how's your drink?” Vinyl Scratch looked at her room-mate with a soft smile over the top of her own. Octavia stared back, licking the rim of her glass and glancing up at the straw roof, beneath a ribbed steel roof. The grey mare had no response, this beverage being about as far from her normal fare as her music was from Vinyl's.
The white Unicorn set her drink down, “Nevermind,” her head darted forward and she mashed her lips against Octavia's, tongue searching for the elusive flavor. She pulled back after just a little less time than her room-mate wanted, licking her own lips, “Delicious.”
Octavia looked at her glass, wondering if it was her or the wine that Vinyl was talking about. Whichever it was, she didn't really care at the moment, wanting the kiss to continue. She started to lean forward, and found herself falling into Vinyl's arms, not to her face like she was aiming for. Either of them.
“How drunk are you Tavi? Seriously. You've only had three...four?” She looked at the bartender, who mouthed the word 'eight' at her before turning back to the glasses she was certain he was cleaning with spit. “Uh, eight, apparently,” was it really that many? She looked at the bar, where their glasses sat lined up, and counted them. She stopped counting at nineteen glasses, figuring that she was probably seeing multiples. She turned to Octavia and stopped suddenly as she realized that the mare wasn't on her chair anymore. A momentary panic set in before she felt something warm and wet in her lap. Glancing down, she sighed in relief at the grey mare drooling on her leg. She wasn't lost, just unconcious.
Vinyl pulled her up and gave her a little push to get Octavia balanced across her back before sliding a pile of bits over to the bartender, “Thanks.” Turning to the grey bundle lying across her back, she muttered, “Come along now Tavi, we've still got another place to go before we get home.”
That was another bar, one that had more alcohol, and more dancing, or in Octavia's case, stumbling drunkenly around the floor. Vinyl managed to keep her upright enough, and the Unicorn had enough control left in her magic to keep both drinks from spilling, even as the two downed more and more of the alcoholic mass.
Finally they stumbled into a hallway off to one side. Vinyl tipped her head at the stallion by the door, and he tossed her a key, muttering something about damages.
“What's he mean damages, Vi?” Octavia stumbled into the wall, then back into Vinyl, who grabbed her and swung her around, half guiding her down the hall, half leaning on her for balance, “Nevermind...”
Vinyl sighed and wobbled back across the hall, leading Octavia into a door. The key fit, and the two stumbled into the room. Octavia managed to shut the door, or at least it made a sound like it was shutting, and she stumbled towards the bed in the middle of the room. Absently the grey mare noticed a lack of several amenities, with the only things she could clearly see being a door to the bathroom, and Vinyl, lying across the bed. With a trash can in her hooves. A very sexy looking at the moment trash can.
She made a wobbling beeline to the bed, and swiped the can from her much more experienced at drinking room-mate, proceeding to fill it with a combination of alcohol and onion-ring bits.
Vinyl rolled over laughing, but still grabbed Octavia, and pressed their lips together, “Still good. A bit oniony...” She laughed at the reaction, “C'mon Tavi, you'd be delicious even covered in...ok, probably not. But Barbecue Sauce...” Vinyl was drooling at the idea of covering Octavia in the brown sauce, then licking it off of her, but right now, alcohol seemed like a much better choice. “Can I marinate you, Tavi? In vodka?”
Her response was an incredulous stare, fused with outright confusion and the lack of focus awarded only to those with more alcohol in their body than was strictly legal. Vinyl laughed and grabbed Octavia away from the sloshing bucket, “Fiiiine! How about a nice red wine?”
“...” Octavia genuinely didn't have a viable response to that, partially because she couldn't see straight enough to tell if Vinyl was joking, partially because she was so drunk that it maybe sounded like a good idea, and partially, she was sure that if Vinyl offered to join her in the wine bath, she would dial room service right that instant. And she actually suspected, somewhere in her drunken mind, that Vinyl actually would do it too.
The Unicorn reached out for the phone with her magic, then stopped as she felt a tongue running along her ear, “You taste good too, Vi...”
Vinyl nodded, ear flicking at Octavia's touch, “I'm ordering the wine right now...” She groaned as Octavia flopped over her back, twisting her neck around, “Tavi, gimme a second!”
Octavia refused, adamantly, and with her tongue, distracting Vinyl enough that she dropped the phone on the floor, “Tavi! Can't you wait for the wine to get ordered?”
Octavia's tongue traced a line from Vinyl's ear down to her lips, “You, You taste like vodka, and, what is that?” It tasted sort of like good rice, or maybe a nice cake.
“Captain Morgan, maybe a little Jaegerbombs. I think I slipped a Tail-lifter in there too.”
“Vi...How do you speak so elo...ela...good drunk?”
“Practice, that and I'm nowhere near drunk yet. You are. I'm not getting the wine, you can go soak in warm water until you get not drunk.”
Octavia interrupted the concept with her teeth, pulling lightly on Vinyl's lip, “C'mon Vi...Jus...” She slipped quietly down to the floor, snoring softly as her head twisted against the ground. Vinyl grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up onto the bed, positioning her head against the pillow before rolling onto the other side and wrapping her limbs around Octavia, “You'll have a Tartarus of a headache in the morning Tavi.
Macintosh Apple sighed as he looked up at the sky. The weather calendar had called for a light rain later today. It was early, again. Perhaps he should have his sister talk to the weather manager again. Perhaps not. In any case, there was no point to staying out in it to try and harvest anything, good way to get a cold actually. Another low sigh and he turned back to the farm house sitting at the edge of the field. He took his time, not really in a hurry to get back inside, but not wanting to get caught in the wet. As the rain started slapping down on the roof, he pushed open the door and half-stomped in, shaking the damp dirt from his hooves and fetlocks before letting the door shut roughly. “Damn Rainbow Dash...Whole day wasted.” Then he looked up. Fluttershy, his beautiful pegasus wife was standing in the kitchen, wearing a pure white apron. Looking at him with a look that was almost suspicious. Her eyes slid up to the window for a second before meeting his.
As smiles lit up their faces, he knew what she wanted. Something that his often busy schedule had prevented. The large stallion trotted over to her and raised his foreleg, “Would the lady care to dance?” Some of Rarity’s training had sunken in over the years the two had known the alabaster mare, and he managed to not fumble any steps until the end. Or at least, his fumble made it the end, shaking the whole building when the two landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs and hair.
She had already made a lunch to take to him in the field, but since he wasn’t out there, the couple moved to the front porch and climbed into the swing, her sitting on his legs, hand feeding him his lunch as they gently swayed back and forth. Though he tried to hide it, she saw the tears forming at the edges of his eyes. He had longed for the same contact she had. The touch of another, without the need for sleep.
That was where they were found the next morning, still curled up on the bench, by Applejack and Rainbow Dash. Breakfast followed, Fluttershy’s amazing pancakes, and a hint of a smile on his sister’s face told Macintosh that there was probably something a little more than just a scheduling error behind yesterday’s storm. He nodded to the cyan mare and smiled lightly.