> On the Edge > by The Letter J > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > We're not leaving this balcony anytime soon, are we? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twilight sighed as she gazed forlornly up at the clear night sky. The moon was full, proudly showing the face of a half-forgotten legend in all her glory. The stars shone brightly, reminding Twilight that she would much rather be back in her tower, where she could study them with her telescope. Or read a book about the stars. Or read a book about anything else. Or practice a new spell. Or double-check her study schedule for the next week. Or sleep. Or do almost anything other than what she was doing at the moment. Which was basically nothing. In fact, the only thing she could think of that would actually be worse than sitting alone on that palace balcony would be turning around and walking back into the palace ballroom. Now Twilight normally didn’t have anything against the ballroom. It was, of course, just a room. Sure, it wasn’t a library or anything, but like most rooms, it was generally harmless. But on this particular night, it was anything but harmless. The first problem was that it was full of ponies. Normally, this would only be a slight annoyance to the reclusive bookworm, for even though she did not typically enjoy the company of ponies who weren’t princesses or her family, she had at least learned how to interact with them without secretly imagining that they were all books. She was still pretty awkward though. The second problem was the identities of the ponies in the room. They were the toasts of the town, the ones to watch, the belles of the ball, the stars of the show, the creme de la creme, the talk of all of Canterlot, and basically the ponies everypony should know. At least, that’s what they thought about themselves. In Twilight’s opinion, they were just a bunch of insufferable, narcissistic, egotistic snobs. And she wasn’t sure which ones she hated more: the ones who ignored or looked down on her because she wasn’t born into a rich, noble family, or the ones who tried to suck up to her or otherwise use her and her position as Princess Celestia’s star student to gain favor with the Princess. The final problem was that those “belles of the ball” were, in fact, at a ball. Or it might have been a reception or a soiree or a gala or something like that. Twilight couldn’t really bring herself to care what type of party it was. All that really mattered about it was that there was dancing involved. And Twilight Sparkle could not dance. She still had nightmares about her last day in magic kindergarten. Instead of spending the day learning about magic, like she had expected to do in magic kindergarten, there had been an end-of-the-year party. Twilight had actually enjoyed the party at first. There were games, food, tearful goodbyes (though Twilight’s had involved more books than ponies), and all the other necessities for a foals’ party. And then the music started. It only took a moment for all of the fillies and colts, Twilight included, to rush to the center of the room and start dancing. It only took another moment for all of the fillies and colts, Twilight excluded, to notice how ridiculous her dancing was and start laughing. Twilight had never danced again. And so there she was, stuck alone on a balcony all ni— “When nobles start to bore, walk right out the door!” Twilight let out a short yelp and quickly spun around to see who had startled her with the sudden exclamation. When she did, she saw a well-muscled bipedal creature several times her size, with a horn the size of her leg on either side of his head, wearing a small black tie. She was familiar with minotaurs, of course, but only in the “I read a book about them once” sense. This was the first time she had ever actually met one. “Oh, there’s someone else out here?” the minotaur asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. “Do you mind if Iron Will joins you?” Twilight’s mood immediately soured. “That depends. Is he one of the awful nobles from the party?” “No, Iron Will is Iron—Wait. No, that’s not right. I am Iron Will.” “Well, you certainly don’t look like a Canterlot noblepony. So what are you doing here? At the party, I mean.” “Iron WIll’s father, Iron Staff, is the ambassador from Minoa. Iron Staff insists that Iron Will come to events like this, but Iron Will doesn’t care for the nobles and their parties and politics.” Twilight smiled at that, quite happy to have found something of a kindred soul. “Oh, I know exactly how you feel. The princess always tries to drag me to these events too. I can usually find an excuse not to go, but I got unlucky this time. So I had to deal with all those stuck-up ponies trying to make my life miserable until I finally managed to escape out here.” “Iron Will knows that those ponies are stuck-up jerks, but why are they trying to make you miserable?” Twilight sighed. “Because I’m Princess Celestia’s star student, and they’re all jealous of either my connection to the princess or my magical ability. So they seem to want to either drive me out of Canterlot or keep me from doing anything I want to. Or they want to marry me off to one of their sons,” she added in disgust. Iron Will turned so that he was standing next to Twilight as they both looked up at the stars. After a few moments of thought, he spoke in a contemplative tone. “There will always be those who want to tear you down, those who can only feel good about themselves when there’s no one above them. They will try to tell you that you’re worthless. They will try to make you worthless. All you can do is prove that they’re wrong. Show them that you’re great. Show everyone how great you are. When somepony tries to block, show them that you rock!” Twilight giggled as Iron Will’s little speech reached its climax. “That was pretty good. Do you give advice like that often?” “Not as often as Iron Will would like,” he replied. “Iron Will’s father wants Iron Will to go into politics, but Iron Will wants to become a motivational speaker.” “I think you’d make a good one,” Twilight said with a soft smile. “I’m not quite as elegant with my words as you are, but I think that you should follow your dreams. Show them that you rock too.” Iron Will paused for a few seconds before letting out a short laugh. “It seems so obvious when you say it. Iron Will supposes Iron Will should take Iron Will’s advice. Yes, Iron Will will do that. Thank you…Iron Will has just realized that Iron Will does not know your name.” “My name is Twilight. Twilight Sparkle.” “Thank you, Twilight Sparkle. Iron Will is still not used to asking for names. It’s not often necessary in Minoa.” Twilight laughed. “If everyone there uses their own names as much as you do, then I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Twilight’s expression suddenly became contemplative as she went into “research mode.” “Actually, do all minotaurs refer to themselves in the third person like you do? Why do you do that?” “That’s how our language works. Our language doesn’t have those…‘I,’ ‘you’ things like Equestrian. “You mean pronouns?” “Yes! Those things. Iro—I am still trying to get used to using them.” “Fascinating. So how long have you been speaking Equestrian? Pronouns aside, you seem to be quite fluent.” “I took a few classes in school back home, but I didn’t use it much until I came here several months ago.” Twilight nodded in understanding. “I see. Good use of pronouns there, by the way.” As the conversation lulled, Twilight and Iron Will turned their attentions to other things. Things like the lights of the city below them and the stars above them, the music from the party behind them flowing out into the open air and mixing with the ambient sounds from the palace garden and the city, and when they thought they could get away with it, the fairly-attractive-even-if-they’re-a-different-species being standing next to them. Twilight had, much to her foalsitter’s chagrin, never been very interested in romance. At least, she hadn’t been since the day Cadance had told her that she couldn’t marry a book (which was probably for the best; it would be nigh impossible for Twilight to pick one that she loved more than all the others, and it might get jealous when she inevitably read other books). But that didn’t mean that she was completely clueless when it came to romance. She had, in an attempt to appease Cadance, read plenty of books on the subject (they’re books about romance, not romance novels, as she was always sure to point out). Cadance had repeatedly told her that just reading about romance didn’t count and that she wasn’t going to really learn anything about it that way. And as Twilight gazed upon the minotaur standing next to her, she was suddenly realizing, though she hated to admit it, that Cadance might have actually been right. Although spending the rest of the evening in an awkward silence and stealing glances at each other still sounded better than rejoining the party, Twilight still found that it was far from an ideal situation. “So now what do we do?” she asked in an attempt to improve the situation. “I don’t think that either of us wants to return to the party, so we’re basically stuck on this balcony all night.” Iron Will continued to stand in silence, apparently putting a considerable amount of thought into Twilight’s question. After a few moments, he came to a decision, held out his hand to Twilight, and answered. “When you want romance, ask her to dance.” Twilight’s pupils shrank in horror. Dance?! I can’t dance! He’ll laugh at me, and it will be embarrassing and awkward. And that would be terrible because...because...Celestia’s flanks, he said “romance,” didn’t he? He must like me too. But we just met. We’re not even the same species. I’m not ready for a romantic relationship. It will never work. It’s ridiculous. It’s illogical. It’s...not exactly unappealing. He’s confident, he seems sweet, he’s good looking in an exotic way, his tendency to speak in the third person is surprisingly endearing...I never thought I would say this, but I now wish that I had paid more attention when Cadance talked about romance. She was right, the books aren’t helping. I’m so lost. I have no idea what to do. I think I might like him, but I’m not ready for this. But I might not get another chance with him. Or with anyone. Nopony’s ever asked me out or anything before. It’s only logical that I give this a chance, right? But dancing. That will ruin everything. Oh, what do I do? Discouraged by her response, or lack thereof, Iron Will withdrew his hand. “Or not. Forget Iron Will said that. Twilight Sparkle and Iron Will can do something else.” The dejected look on his face was the final push that sent her over the edge (the metaphorical edge, not the literal edge of the balcony). “N-no. Wait.” Twilight took a deep breath and steeled herself for her reply. As she did so, Iron Will’s words from earlier came back to her mind. “When somepony tries to block, show them that you rock!” I won’t let my fears block me. I can do this. I’ll show him that I rock. “I would love to dance with you.” Oh, Cadance, help me. While one might normally expect a size difference as large as the one between a pony and a minotaur would make dancing rather difficult, in this case, it actually worked in Twilight’s favor. For when Iron Will held her in the traditional Minotaur style of slow dancing, she found that her hind legs did not even reach the ground, thus preventing any embarrassing effort she might make to “dance.” And as an added bonus, she was also pressed up against Iron Will’s undeniably attractive chest. And by the time everyone had gone home, it was not the nobles who had spent the whole party socializing, drinking, and showing off their wealth, style, and influence who enjoyed it the most, but the two outcasts who spent the entire time outside, trapped on a balcony.