//------------------------------// // Sleepy Purple Ponies // Story: Just for a Night // by Shortmane //------------------------------// Fireworks had never been so incredible. Tempest knew it was less to do with her own magic lighting up the night sky, and far more about the pony standing beside her. She looked away as Twilight turned to her with a knowing smile. It was so strange… “Best. Fireworks. Ever!” A shrill voice rose above the cheers and music from the nearby celebration, making both ponies raise their heads, ears perking forward. “You should be getting back to your friends,” Tempest said, glancing sideways at her. “I’m sure they’re looking forward to celebrating your victory together.” “First off, we’re not celebrating a victory, well, not officially at least. It’s still just the Festival of Friendship. And secondly, well... I’m kinda partied out, to tell the truth. It’s been amazing and all but… I’m really tired. Like, really tired.” “Not surprised,” Tempest said evenly. "I have been chasing you throughout Equestria and beyond. And then of course I captured you. And tried to steal your magic.” “Yeah, that’s true. A lot's happened.” Tempest went quiet, thinking of not only the past, but of what was yet to happen. What would they do to her? How was she not already in a prison cell? She glanced at Twilight: a princess of Equestria, a hero to her people. Her former enemy. How was she standing with her as if none of it had happened? “So what now?” “Now?” Twilight asked, half-dazed from lingering too long on her own exhaustion. “Well, now I’d like to go to bed. Which is a shame because, you know, party. But I need sleep.” “And me?” “And you? And you can… uh. Oh, right. You.” Twilight blinked at her with apparent understanding. “Good question, where are you going to sleep? I guess you can’t really go back to your airship. Well, not easily, I’d imagine.” “Not actually what I meant—“ “Oh! If you want you can come sleep in my room. It’s big enough for two ponies, actually a lot more than just two. You’re more than welcome to come stay with me for the night.” Tempest stared at the sleepy pony beside her and tried to figure out if she was mocking her. “Although,” Twilight went on, furrowing her brow. “I guess that’d mean you’d have to leave the party early, too.” “That’s… no,” Tempest said, holding up a hoof before she could go any further. “That is entirely beside the point. I don’t care about this party or festival or whatever. While I appreciate the... the effort, I don’t belong here.” “Of course you do,” Twilight said with a frown. “This is the Festival of Friendship. If there was ever a time and place to make friends, it’s here. You should give it a chance.” “Think about what you’re asking. Most ponies will run the second they see me. You don’t want me ruining your little party you’ve worked so hard for, now do you?” Twilight’s head sank, and she took a few steps towards the cheering crowds as a new song began to blast over the speakers. Tempest watched her, wondering what was going through her head. Had she changed her mind? Would she choose to go back to her real friends? Rather than hang around the monster who had imprisoned all of them not even hours earlier. “I guess it’d be better if we start smaller, maybe Ponyville,” Twilight muttered. Then she turned and walked back towards Tempest. “So as I was saying, you’re welcome to stay with me tonight, if you’d like.” Tempest raised her eyebrows. She didn’t care where she was sleeping, unless it was going to be in a locked cell. But so far no one was swooping down to capture her. “I mean, you must be pretty tired yourself," Twilight continued. "I don’t know how the others still have so much energy, but I can’t be the only one who just wants to sleep for a week. And I imagine you'd want to recover after being turned to stone earlier.” “I... I suppose,” Tempest said slowly. Was she tired? She immediately regretted even thinking of it. As soon as she did, the gravity of everything she had done pulled her down, a physical weight upon her back. She shook her head and straightened herself—it wasn't the time to show such weakness. Looking up, she saw Twilight beginning to walk away before pausing and glancing over her shoulder. “Coming?” After a moment of hesitation, Tempest Shadow followed. Luckily, it wasn’t far, and Twilight only stumbled a little while walking up the long stairway hugging a tower, with Tempest following closer and closer behind with each near-fall. As they walked higher, the noise from the celebration rang clearer in their ears, the kind of music that pulsed in one’s chest. Tempest paused and gazed out among the bright sea of ponies—ponies who had been chained and muzzled on her command, who she would have seen as slaves without a hint of remorse. She would have had them all suffer, all for the sake of getting her horn back. Her ear flicked as she noticed the silence above her, the absence of hoofsteps, and noticed Twilight watching her with a faint frown. Tempest shook her head and pushed those thoughts behind her. They walked side by side until reaching an arched doorway at the very top, dark blue in the moonlight. She stepped into the dark room, her shoulders tense as she gazed about the shadows all around her. There was a flash and then lamps all over the room flickered and lit, and Tempest saw that they were, in fact, alone. “Make yourself at home,” Twilight said as she closed the door behind them. “Thanks?” Tempest said, standing in the middle of what looked like a live-in library, albeit one that a tornado had blown through recently. “Did my soldiers do this?” “What? Oh, the papers. No, the past few days have just been crazy getting ready for the festival and, well, I’ve been a bit anxious over the whole thing. And when I get anxious I make lists. Lots of lists.” “I see.” Tempest looked around with a slow turn of her head, stepping further into the spacious room. “I guess it is a bit of a mess. Usually Spike makes sure it doesn’t get this bad, but he’s been busy too.” “It’s fine,” Tempest said. “Is there a spare bed I can use? Or perhaps a couch?” “Uh, well…” Twilight’s eyes drifted to a single large bed just visible on an upper level. Tempest’s ear twitched. “I am not taking your bed, Princess Twilight.” Twilight frowned at that. “You can just call me Twilight, you know. And I didn’t invite you here to sleep on the floor. The bed’s plenty big for both of us, if you don’t mind sharing it. I could also get some spare blankets and cushions for myself, but there’s no way I’m letting my guest sleep on the floor.” Tempest didn’t respond, but cast a sharp eye around. There were, in fact, couches and large cushions around the room, they were just half-buried under the many ‘lists’ and such. She walked over to one tasseled cushion and nudged some of the papers with a hoof. If she had her magic she would be able to carefully lift the whole pile without getting one paper out of order. In her current state they might combust instead. "Oh, you can use the shower if you’d like—it’s just through that door over there." Tempest followed her hoof towards a little arched doorway, but didn't move. “What about you?” “Already done,” Twilight said with a ruffle of her wings. “Rarity insisted we make ourselves presentable for the Festival. She was pretty insistent, actually. I would have liked to keep working on getting everything ready for the concert but I’m glad she did. I needed it.” “I… suppose a shower might be overdue,” Tempest said, increasingly conscious of the dirt and sweat caking her fur. “Great. And, uh, maybe I’ll try to clean up some of this stuff in the meantime.” Twilight gazed around, wings withering at the daunting task. Tempest had to turn quickly to hid her smile. Twilight was just as likely to fall asleep on the papers as clean them up. At least the bathroom wasn’t a complete disaster, and not a paper in sight. Although it did have the definite feel of being used recently and in a hurry, with damp towels on the floor and counter and the hint of steam lingering in the warm air. It was only after double-checking that the door was closed and locked did she dare remove her armor. She stepped out of the heavy metal shoes, then used her teeth to help pull off her heavy outer barding. Finally she yanked the undershirt over her head, the stiff fabric catching on her mane until with a shake of her head she was free of it. She kicked it into the pile of armor and saw the Storm King’s emblem sharp against the black. For a moment she stood over it, remembering his betrayal, his shattered pieces on the ground, and swore to herself she would never wear that symbol again. But it wasn’t the time to think of that, and she focused instead on the idea of a hot shower, a luxury rarely found on military airships. It was, frankly, far better than she had imagined. She sighed and basked in the almost-scalding water as the steamy air filled her lungs. It would have been easy to fall asleep right there, but Twilight was waiting. She turned the water off and immediately regretted the loss of warmth, but went out feeling cleaner than she had in years. She found an unused towel and dried off until her fur was damp instead of dripping, her dark fuschia mane almost black as it draped along her neck. When she looked up, familiar turquoise eyes stared back at her through the fogged mirror. A reflection both familiar and strange. Who was she anymore? She was no longer Commander Tempest. She had no army, no power, no hope at ever recovering her horn. And without her barding, she felt so exposed. Vulnerable. Once again, she was only a broken and beaten pony. She stared into her eyes, and tried to convince herself that she was safe. Twilight surely wouldn’t try to hurt her. Even if Tempest had tried to sacrifice Twilight’s magic to the Storm King hours before. Her reflection flinched at the thought. Could this be a trap as well? Was she really such a fool as to trust the pony out there? Maybe. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. She had said they were friends… could she have really meant it? Collecting her courage, she opened the door to the dim-lit room. To her surprise, Twilight wasn't on the bed, nor was she cleaning up. Tempest looked around and found her sitting before a huge wall of window, hunched over herself, her wings low on her back. Twilight didn’t make any notice of her approach, only jumping when Tempest cleared her throat. Twilight turned around and seemed to force a smile—it didn’t reach her eyes. “Feeling better?” “Yes, thank you,” Tempest said, wondering if something had happened. She gazed out and realized Twilight had been watching the festival, still in full swing, the music faintly audible even from so far away. Was Twilight having doubts? “If you want to be with your friends, don’t let me stop you. I’m sure I could find somewhere else to stay for the night.” Twilight bowed her head, her ears falling back. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. But I really don’t mind. It’s nice to… to not be alone right now.” Tempest looked down at her, a frown tightening her face. “Aren’t you the Princess of Friendship? You must have many friends down there.” Twilight gazed out over the festivities, and Tempest realized that a different kind of weariness was weighing on her. “I do have friends. Amazing friends but… it’s hard to be around them right now. They’ve forgiven me already—for what I had done—but I can’t forgive myself. Not yet.” Twilight gave a deep sigh, her shoulders hunching further as she spoke to the floor. “You don’t have to stay, I’ll understand. I’m not exactly the best company tonight.” Tempest breathed through a sudden tightness in her throat, then stepped forward and sat down beside the princess without a word. Far in the distance she watched a pegasus loop through the air, and pretended to not see Twilight smiling at her. She was rather… no, Tempest shook that thought away. “Are you hurt?” Twilight asked suddenly. So she had finally noticed. Tempest followed her line of sight to a series of jagged scars circling around her upper foreleg where a jackal had once tried to rip her arm off. “Not currently. Just reminders of old wounds,” Tempest said and glanced at her from the corner of her eye, wondering if she would see disgust or horror on her face. “They don’t hurt?” “No. Sometimes when its cold, but not now.” Twilight’s eye flickered to further down her barrel, then reached out a tentative hoof towards an old, deep gash- vivid and pale against the dark fur. A firework exploded in the sky, huge and red, shocking them both and Twilight jerked away, pulling her hoof to her chest. Both looked back towards the night sky, watching pegasi soar amongst the bursts of light- blue and gold and purple. Tempest felt her back itch as the minutes passed in silence. Perhaps she should have kept the armor on after all. Few creatures, even fewer ponies, ever saw this part of her. She had not lived the soft life of an Equestrian, and it showed. Most ponies did not have to learn to fight to survive. She didn’t fit in with this world anymore, and there were a hundred reminders why. Although Twilight didn't seem to mind so much. A faint movement at her side caught her attention as Twilight nodded forward then jerked up, blinking fast. “Perhaps it’s time for bed,” Tempest said with a crooked grin. “Mm, sounds good…” They rose and went up to the loft with a normal four-poster bed, not really what one would expect from a princess. Twilight climbed up, pulling back the sheets for both of them. But Tempest hesitated. It was hard enough sharing a room with a stranger, was she really ready to share a bed? With her former enemy? Looking around, her eyes fell to a large plush cushion, a perfect makeshift bed with only a few odds and ends on it. It wouldn’t take much to clear it off, only a few minutes. It would be easy to do, safer… “Are you okay?” Twilight asked. “I could probably fix up a couch for you if you’d prefer." “...No. It’s fine.” Tempest approached the bed with some trepidation, then hopped on and instantly sunk into the thick duvet. A little laugh escaped unexpectedly. “I can’t remember the last time I slept on a bed like this,” she said, feeling the bed spring back under her hooves. If she laid down, who knows when she might get up again. “Nice, isn’t it? It’s probably better than what I had in Ponyville. Or used to when I was still living at the library.” “Do you always live in libraries?” Twilight giggled, stretching into the blanket. “No, I wish! Although I live in a castle now so I can’t complain. I’m, uh, actually working on building a new library there.” Tempest imagined a huge castle bursting with papers and books, and held back another laugh. A faint purple glow caught her eye as a plush pillow was placed behind her. She was about to lay down but was interrupted by a hesitant voice. “Uh, Tempest?” Twilight was sitting up and staring at her side again. “I don’t want to be rude, but you might want to brush your fur. It looks a bit, um, off from all that armor.” Tempest blinked in surprise then glanced at her side. Indeed, the dark purple fur was mussed up—and itchy—from where it had rubbed the wrong way for hours on hours. “It doesn’t bother me,” she said with a shrug. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t already used to. “Would you like me to?” “What?” She had surely misheard, or misunderstood. “Would you like me to brush your coat?” Twilight looked away—a little shy, a little eager. “I wouldn’t mind. And I know you’ll feel better for it.” Tempest continued to stare, then shook her head. “No. I can’t ask you to do that. And weren’t you just saying how tired you were?” “Wha—no, I'm…” as if on cue, Twilight yawned with a poor attempt at hiding it. “Heh, sorry. But I mean it. I always used to love it when my mom or foalsitter did it for me.” “You really don’t have to.” But Twilight had already lit her horn and a couple brushes flew over from the bathroom. Twilight gave an encouraging, if sleepy, smile and Tempest found it hard to argue against. With a defeated sigh she padded closer, the duvet sinking wonderfully, and sat down so her left side was facing Twilight. A hoof touched her side and she stiffened, hunched over with her shoulders almost to her ears. “You can relax,” Twilight said, again laying a gentle hoof on her back. “It’s not going to hurt, promise.” Tempest took a deep breath and forced her shoulders down inch by inch, and then made the rest of her body relax. Or at least appear to. She never let herself be this exposed to anyone. Her jaw clenched tight as she felt the first tentative brushstroke down her back, making her back itch as it ran over the stuck fur. This is stupid, she thought sullenly. She could brush her own fur just fine. It wasn’t necessary—in fact it was pointless. Tempest nearly said so aloud, but didn’t. Instead she bit her lip and remembered the last time she had been properly brushed, back when she was but a filly. Her mother had had to chase her around the house so she would actually sit still. Thinking back, she didn’t know why she had fought it. It had so nice, so gentle. Her mother would hum as she sat with her. One of many things she had taken for granted. Maybe this wasn't so bad. She closed her eyes, focusing on the hesitant strokes and realized they were a little uneven as she went gingerly over and around the various scars. Her eyes fluttered open as she noticed something else off. She looked to her side and was surprised to see Twilight wasn’t using her magic—there was no faint glow, no levitating brush. Instead, she was leaning up and brushing Tempest with her own two hooves. Twilight met her eyes and looked away. “It’s not hurting, right?” “No, it’s fine.” Tempest faced forward again, her face warmer than she would have expected. The hesitant brushstrokes resumed, starting up at her shoulder and trailed to the bottom of her barrel. Then short, round movements on her side and flank, smoothing out the areas where her armor had been. It was… nice. So why did everything feel so wrong. Tempest let out a deep breath and bowed her head. “Twilight… why am I here?” The hoof on her back stuttered. “What do you mean?” “I mean why am I not sitting in a prison cell. After everything I did, all the ponies I hurt. All the pain I caused you, your friends… why are you doing this?” There was a pause, and the hoof pulled away. Tempest slowly turned and looked back at Twilight and met bright purple eyes. She didn’t look away. “I believe in second chances. And you’ve shown that you want to do better. You saved us when the Storm King tried to turn us all to stone. Even at the cost of your own life.” “One good deed doesn’t make up for a lifetime of bad ones.” A gentle hoof touched her shoulder. “I don’t think you’re a bad pony, Tempest. I know you can do better. I believe in you.” Tempest stared, her chest rising and falling as she took in a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes burned and she again looked away. “Thank you,” she whispered. Glancing back, she saw Twilight smile and it stirred a strange warmth in her chest. Wordlessly, Twilight moved to her other side and picked up the brush again. The soft strokes resumed, more confident than before. She closed her eyes again, and let her shoulders lower as she relaxed. The soft brush rolled along her side, sliding easier with each downward pass. This really was nice, Tempest thought, focusing on the rhythmic strokes, the gentle hoof braced on her back. She couldn’t remember feeling so at peace. Her eyes almost fluttered open as Twilight shifted, but she was only moving closer, rising a little higher to reach her shoulders. There was a tiny squeak and Tempest turned in time to catch Twilight finishing another yawn, tears pricking at her eyes. “You can stop anytime.” “Nah, I’m good,” Twilight said. Of course she’d be this stubborn, Tempest thought as she dropped her front legs so she was lying down, and figured Twilight would soon follow suit. It really was a very nice bed, and she had to hold back a yawn of her own. “Yeah, good idea,” Twilight said quietly as she also sank down, lying very close before picking up the brush again. She leaned over her, a warm weight on her back, and brushed hard along her shoulders, smoothing out the stiff fur and digging deeper into the sore muscles. Then she moved higher and Tempest straightened her head as her touch trailed down her neck, rubbing along each side of her damp mane and making her shiver, but not uncomfortably so. She vaguely wondered if there might be something she could do in return, which was strange when she owed Twilight for so much more. For the moment, she was content to simply be… content. Her head dipped forward as her mind slowly went blank. She felt as if she could melt right into the bed. It was so warm, so comfortable. The strokes became slower, softer. It was like she was barely touching her, like a warm breath… Tempest jerked up, her eyes stuttering open before looking all around. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep—she usually wouldn’t dare to in front of anyone else. But all was fine. Her heart slowed with a few steadying breaths. A soft noise caught her attention and she carefully turned her head and realized why her side felt so warm and everything was so still. Twilight had fallen asleep mid-brush, leaning heavily on her shoulder with her mouth hanging open. She gave a faint snore, snuggling closer after Tempest had shifted. She was very cute. Tempest smiled and didn’t try pushing aside that little thought, but instead embraced it. She really was very cute. Twilight wasn’t afraid of her, or pitied her. She maybe even… liked her. A friend. Maybe this whole friendship thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. Keeping an eye on the sleeping pony, Tempest slowly adjusted herself, un-tucking her legs out from under her. She stopped as Twilight fidgeted, sliding against her, but didn't even open her eyes. She should wake her up, Tempest thought as she settled against her side. Moving slowly, she bit on a corner of the blanket and pulled it over them, and Twilight was warm and steady at her side. She lay her head down and closed her eyes. Whatever may come in the morning, it could wait. Just for a night, this was enough.