Sitting with her forelegs resting against the table’s edge, little Flurry Heart thought about all of the dreadful ways that this night could go wrong or come to a dramatic, crashing end. A flurry of fantasies flourished and in her mind’s eye she pictured angry mobs hollering for her punishment. Other scenarios ended with a forced marriage to somepony gross and unpleasant. Life imprisoned in a tower seemed possible, or worse, banishment. Maybe not to the moon, but there were some awful places that she could end up spending a few years and regretting what she had done.
It was, of course, a perfectly foalish response to the situation, and had Flurry been more aware, she would have known it was an indicator for her lack of maturity. At the moment, she was the very picture of foalhood; she had a napkin tied around her neck to protect her gown, her muzzle was smeared with chocolate, strawberry bits festooned her snoot, and somehow, custard had ended up on her ear, perhaps because she had abandoned her spoon to lick the bowl clean. She took immense equinal satisfaction when an old, snooty mare fainted dead away upon witnessing the dreaded bowl-licking.
“I don’t know where they put it,” Sumac said as he glanced off to his left.
Turning her head, Flurry saw the source of Sumac’s query. “Spike and Boomer?” Then, she answered her own question. “Sunburst says that dragons are just furnaces and soft foods burn away in no time. This is why dragons eat metals, rocks, and minerals, because it takes them a while to digest—” She paused when she realised that Sumac already knew this. Of course he knew this. He had raised Boomer and he was Professor Egghead. Feeling embarrassed without knowing why, Flurry let slip a stream of nervous, barking laughter.
“Flurry, there are actually dragons that use projectile vomit to defend themselves, and they spew powerful jets of their stomach acid. Boomer and I met a few when we went with Spike and Twilight to meet with Dragon Lady Ember.”
“Gross!” Flurry licked her lips, tasted chocolate, and then began to wipe her face with her napkin. Of course, all this did was smear everything deeper into her pelt and make a bigger mess. Taking teeny, tiny bites might have saved her from this indignity, but Flurry had torn into her food like a rabid, ravenous tarrasque. This was Sumac’s fault, it was, it had to be, because he had been the one who had suggested that she was hungry.
“Sumac… Sumac, you didn’t have to be my friend… why did you do it? When Twilight asked you—”
“Conscripted me,” he corrected in what could only be described as a teasing tone.
“Ahem, yes, when Auntie Twilight conscripted you and the others into being my foalsitters, you didn’t have to be my friend. I was just the bratty, spoiled little princess that Twilight forced you to look after because she was busy. Look, I treated you all pretty awful at first… like, worse than the hired help, and I’m sorry.”
She saw Sumac shrug and then she heard him say, “You weren’t that bad. You just needed friends. You were a natural fit for our little Weirdos, Rejects, and Losers’ Club. I mean, a socially retarded little filly—”
“Thanks, Professor Egghead!”
“—in dire need of a few friends and a major attitude readjustment—”
“You scruffy looking bushwoolie herder!”
“ —and Twilight, in her infinite dorkdom, er wisdom, decided that you needed to be with some ponies that wouldn’t put up with your crap and wouldn’t be cowed by you being an alicorn.” Sumac grinned and his ears pitched forward to point in Flurry’s direction. “You were unbearably snotty for a while, but Pebble throwing you into the mud pit sorted you right out.”
“All of you have been the best friends a filly could ask for.” Flurry’s cheeks grew hot, tight, and she was unable to tell if she was grinning or just tense. “I just wish I could see all of you more. You know, Sumac…”
“Yes?”
Something about how he said the word was endearing, and Flurry became aware of some new sensation of affection, something akin to what she felt for her little sister, Skyla. “One of my happiest unhappy memories is that day that all of you made me clean the cemetery with with you. I really hated you at first, I did, and I wanted to remind all of you that I was an alicorn and not some common gardener—”
“Um, actually, you did do that. You did exactly that.”
Flurry rewarded Sumac’s interruption with a raspberry and then continued, “At some point, I’m not sure when, I started having fun with all of you. That was the first time that I had really ever been put to work, and I kinda hated it, but then after a few hours or however long it was, it might have been ten minutes for all I know, I was younger then and time was funny, I really started having a nice time. There was something there I hadn’t had before.”
“Yeah,” Sumac replied, his head bobbing up and down, “you had friends. You had friends and you were doing something meaningful with your friends. Twilight calls it altruistic herd instinct.”
When Sumac reached across the table, Flurry forgot how to breathe as he took her fetlock into his own and held it. She felt him give her a squeeze and this made her heart go pitter-pat at a funky rumba-rhythm. For some odd reason, she thought about xylophones and imagined the sound of her heart bopping out a tune against her ribs.
“You and I,” Sumac began and Flurry saw—no, she felt him looking into her eyes, a most magical feeling indeed. “You and I are going to spend the rest of our lives cleaning up that cemetery. We’re going to be working together and it’s going to be just like that. It’ll probably feel like a chore at first, but then it will get better, and before we know it, we’ll be having the time of our lives, and the years will just go rolling by. This is how it’ll be, Flurry. The tough part is getting started, and right now, we’re just getting started.”
“So it’s only tough for now, but it will get better?”
“Yes, Flurry, it will get better. For now, we just have to wait it out. We’re little still, and we blow everything out of proportion. Everything feels like a major crisis even if it isn’t… and if it isn’t we try to turn it into one. You and I, we suffer from boredom just like every other foal, so we tend to create our own excitement. You, you dream of a life of action… me, I like to imagine myself as Equestria’s most daring aeronaut. Rainbow Dash tells me that I just might be, but I think she’s just trying to encourage me and when she does my mothers all take turns screaming at her.”
“I don’t get it…”
“Don’t get what, Flurry?”
“How are you going to grow up to be a mortician?” Flurry pulled her now sweaty fetlock away from Sumac, but continued to look into his eyes as though he was the only pony in the room. “I mean, it sounds so boring and you do so many other exciting things.” Her words had some impact, as she saw Sumac’s brows furrow, but then she knew that he already had an answer when he began to speak in reply.
“Miss Yearling is the world’s most adventurous author and professor. Her career consists of long periods of absolute and utter boredom, with sphincter-clenching moments of life-threatening excitement to keep things interesting.” Sumac chuckled for a time and Flurry found herself entranced by the look upon his face, which could only be described as a reckless daredevil expression. “Tarnish too… and Tarnish and Miss Yearling are happy ponies because they live in balance. I want to be a happy pony.”
“Well, I don’t want to say I’m bored right now, but I could use a little excitement.”
“Come, Flurry… dance with me. Let us begin our contra-cotillion.”
Taking a deep breath, Princess Flurry Heart prepared herself to deal with her subjects…
The first dance belonged to them, a ceremonial moment that would only last a few precious moments. The ballroom was crowded with the aristocracy, some from Equestria and others from the Crystal Empire. The yaks were present, but looked a little bored, but that was about to be remedied when the first of Sumac’s many surprises manifested. The orchestra was going to take an unscheduled detour into Swing City. A few meaningful words and some gold bits revealed that the musicians were a bunch of hep cats. Vinyl’s education of her apprentice was quite thorough.
Taking a deep breath, Sumac prepared himself: all of his dance lessons were about pay off in a big way. This first dance was supposed to be all hooves on the ground in a slow, boring shuffle, a real downer of a dance. With a turn of his head, Sumac gave the conductor a nod and got one in return. Trouble was about to start and he was giddy with anticipation.
The music started with pounding kettle drums, which freaked out everypony, but the yaks seemed to enjoy it so much that they began to stomp along in time. The thunderous ruckus made the entire ballroom quake and the assembled aristocrats were now wide-eyed with fear. So was Flurry, which was just what Sumac wanted. When the horn section kicked in, blowing sassy, brassy notes, Sumac rose into a bipedal stance, conjured up the broad-brimmed hat that complimented his zoot suit, and he held out his fetlock to his companion.
When she did not respond, Sumac pulled her to him, lifted her, and put his forelegs around her to give her a quick squeeze. So far, this was just like being at Pebble’s house, and it was time to swing! A jaunty, plinky tune erupted from the piano and the saxophones blew some heavy, flatulent notes. When Sumac gave Flurry a dizzying whirl to get things started, a nearby mare fainted dead away in a heap.
Flurry adapted much faster than he anticipated and it seemed that she had a knack for this. There was a lot of shaking, jiggling, wiggling, and rump waggling. Sumac cut a dashing figure in his broad brimmed green hat. He pulled Flurry close, swung her around, flung her outwards, whipped her about, and then with smooth momentum, he drew her back in like a yoyo.
Much to his amusement, Flurry began making saucy pelvic thrusts in time to the smashing-bashing beat of the kettle drums, and another middle-aged mare fell to the floor with a thump. Hind hooves clattering on the floor, Sumac was determined to go out in a zoot-suited blaze of glory. Using both his magic and his body, he tossed Flurry up into the air with a wild spin, which caused her gown to ripple and whip about with centrifugal force. It was an impressive display and he caught her a moment later when gravity demanded her return.
Hearing more hooves, Sumac realised that he and Flurry were no longer alone on the dance floor. Turning his head, he almost dropped his companion when he saw Shining Armor and Cadance in the corner of his vision. Not only were they dancing, but they were good. Like, Maud and Tarnish, or Octavia and Vinyl levels of good. The piano began an aggressive crescendo while the horn section softened into haunting, blaring bursts. This competition was unexpected and Sumac knew that he had to step up his game.
Spike went sliding past, trailing Boomer behind him like a windsock.
Sumac’s hooves clattered out a curious tempo against the floor and Flurry fell into near-perfect timing with him. Fetlock in fetlock, they whipped each other about, flung one another around, and were reckless in the way that only the very young could be. What they lacked in skill, they made up for in youthful abandon, which seemed to be infectious, as others now invaded the dance floor in droves.
The youth of the cotillion were out in force and what was supposed to be a slow, reserved, dignified ceremonial act was now a hot, sweaty, frenzy of frenetic, fanatical, fantastical, feverish fun. Sumac watched his mothers go by in a complicated trio that was dominated by the physical force of Twinkleshine, who seemed to have no trouble at all keeping up the momentum with Trixie and Lemon Hearts.
Sunburst went whirling by with Starlight, and it was clear that he was in control. Starlight appeared flustered, no doubt because she was being dominated, but she was powerless to resist Sunburst’s swinging charms. Sumac pulled Flurry close—they existed cheek to cheek for a moment—and then he flung her away while keeping a tight, firm grip on her fetlocks. Nearby, Pebble was tossing around the much larger Silver Lining as if the griffoness was a big sack of potatoes, and both of them looked as though they were having the time of their lives.
The orchestra, which now looked a little sweaty and disheveled, was rocking the room. So were the yaks, who were stomp-dancing off in their own little corner. Sumac reveled in this moment as the chandeliers overhead swung back and forth, joining the dance. Flurry’s pale blue eyes twinkled, filled with a thousand stars, and her sweaty mane clung to her face in sodden tendrils.
With a flick, he flung Flurry into a cartwheel and he slid over the floor beside her as she took her graceful tumble. When she was on her hind hooves once more, he took her by the fetlocks and gave her another fling to keep the momentum going. Together, they windmilled, jogged in place, and Sumac did fantastic electric slides across the floor. Lifting Flurry high over his head with his forelegs, he gave her a seven-hundred-and-twenty-degree twirly-whirl above him before returning the dizzy, giggling filly back to the floor.
Cadance squealed, no doubt because Shining Armor had groped her.
The two dragons danced in a swirly, smoking slide, and their claws raised sparks from the floor. Both Spike and Boomer, covered in spines and frills, had an awful lot to shake on the dance floor, and Boomer’s natural propensity for gliding allowed her to make fabulous, impossible moves. Spike flung her around as though she was a piece of fabric, whipping her from side to side, and then when momentum peaked, he let go and sent her flying.
Breathless, panting, Flurry collapsed against Sumac and cried, “I gotta stop! If I don’t, I’m going to mega-barf everywhere!”
With the same explosive suddenness as it had started with, the dance ended for Sumac and Flurry. There was a sweaty hug that seemed to linger for a brief eternity, and then he felt Flurry pull away from him. When he looked down into her eyes, he saw happiness. She took a step back, dropped down to all fours, and he did the same, never looking away from her.
“Flurry, you were amazing,” he said to her.
“Thank you, Sumac, so were you.” Panting, she added, “I need a moment to catch my breath. I ate too much.” Grinning, Flurry shuffled on her hooves, and it seemed that she wasn’t done talking, even though she was gulping in much needed air. “No matter what else happens tonight, this was perfect!”
Then, much to Sumac’s surprise, he received a chaste kiss on the cheek, which left him dumbfounded. Something about this kiss was different from the others and left him feeling both shaken and confused. No conclusion seemed forthcoming, no epiphany took place, and there was no sudden understanding, only a befuddled sense of disorientation.
“Escort me to the punchbowl, Sumac.”
Bowing his head, he replied, “Of course.”