//------------------------------// // Day 3 // Story: No Heroes: Life of Pie // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// The chirping of birds clued Pinkie into the fact that it was morning. Grumbling, she pulled the sheets from her face and looked to the window. Still dark outside, but dawn couldn’t be far away. Climbing out of her temporary bed with all the speed and energy of a zompony on tranquilizers, she went to the window and stared at the empty streets of Rockstead. A second night of bad dreams and little sleep. Fine had probably suspected as much yesterday morning. She’d stay in her room today until he came for her. Maybe if she worked on hiding her weariness he’d not notice. It was a simple idea. An easy idea. But Pinkie was no fool, no matter how she made herself look at times. She couldn’t hide it from him forever. He was too observant. Too studious. Too caring. Maybe she should take him up on his offer not to do much today. They’d been pretty active yesterday, and they couldn’t do that every day for two straight weeks. Ponies would scoff if they’d known she’d thought that. She wouldn’t have blamed them. Pinkie Pie had enough energy to do anything. But she didn’t feel like being Pinkie Pie right now. She stared in the mirror, taking in her long mane and similarly long face. “Morning, Pinkamena.” She reached up and forced her cheek up so that she was smiling. Except to call it a smile would do the concept of smiles a severe injustice, and both Pinkie and Pinkamena took smiles very seriously. One relished them. The other hid behind them. Both considered them vital to their very existence, and thus would not tolerate that ghoulish example. No matter. She’d just have to practice a little, get those smiling muscles working! “Happy.” She gained a toothy, creepy grin. “Sad.” Her lips dropped into a glower. “Happy. “Sad. “Happy. “Sad.” She kept this up until the smile started to come naturally and appeared real. And lost it creepiness. It wasn’t quick, but it came, and Pinkie found herself once more able to grin like the party pony she was supposed to be. “That’s more like it!” She closed her eyes, ran a hoof across her face, then opened them again and winked at herself, minus the bags. “There! Now to just…” A deep breath, a slow exhale. Nothing happened. After blowing a lock of dangling hair from her face, she cast a commanding look at her reflection. “Oh, I don’t think so, mane. You wanna play hardball, I’ll play hardball.” She promptly clamped her lips firmly closed, pinched her nostrils with her hooves, and blew. With the squeaky sound of a balloon, her mane vibrated and ‘popped’ into its usual curly style. “Ahh, that’s better.” She batted her dangling lock and giggled, pleased that it sounded legitimate. Giving her reflection a determined smirk, she clapped her hooves together. “Now I’m ready to attack the day! I’m going to head out with Fine and get this over with.” She turned around, took two steps, then stopped as her stomach did a little twist. This was followed by a wobble in her front left elbow and an itch in her nose that made her sneeze. She frowned and went through her encyclopedic knowledge of Pinkie Sense. “Hmm… Twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, itchy nose. Somepony’s coming to visit?” She pondered this little revelation, tapping her chin with a  hoof. “Ah-ha! I bet it’s Sunflower! Who else could it be?” She pronked about the room, giggling at the prospect. “She’s probably gonna want to talk about the party! It’s gonna be so much fun with her tricks and non-magicky magic.” Pausing to hover over the bed, she let out a gasp. “B-but I don’t know when she’s coming.” Landing in a sitting position, she looked out the window at Rockstead, which was starting to brighten under the dawning sun. “Oh, I don’t want to miss her, but I’m supposed to bring Fine to my place today. “No, wait! I didn’t Pinkie Promise to do that, did I? “No, but it would be good to get it over with. “More like… not good at all. “B-but I gotta try! “Or I could wait for Sunflower. “But that might take all day! “I’ve got two weeks. It can wait. “So can Sunflower. It’s not like I have to plan her part of the party now. “Buck up, Pinkie! It would be rude to keep her waiting. “But what if she’s just coming to talk to Fine?” That one froze her thoughts. Oh, no, what if she is just coming to talk to Fine? Her lungs fought against her constricting throat as she imagined the two of them sitting in a corner of the inn’s dining room, alone, heads close as they whispered naughty little teases at one another. She shook her head hard and tried to make herself smile. “No, no, that’s just silly. Fine wouldn’t do anything like that.” Climbing off the bed once more, she gave herself a confident smile in the mirror of the vanity. “The whole reason I’m here is because I want to win Fine over, and I’m already pretty far in that goal! I mean, he agreed to come in the first place, didn’t he? He wouldn’t come all this way just to be swept off his hooves by another mare.” Who was pretty and entertaining and had lots more yellow in her. “Stop that!” She knocked herself on the head a few times and glared at her reflection. “All you have to do is show Fine the truth. She’s not here to steal Fine away!” She held her own eyes, fierce and determined to instill herself with all the confidence she could muster. She would not doubt. She would not doubt. She would not doubt! She yelped and clutched at her tail at the knock on her door. “Pinkie? Are you okay in there?” Fine Crime. “Y-yeah, of course!” She tried to laugh off her anxiety, quickly releasing her tail. “Just a minute.” She looked herself over one more time in the mirror. Bags hidden? Mane curlier than any mane had a right to be? Smile as real as Celestia’s cake addiction? Eyes as sparkly as the stars in Luna’s mane? That last one wasn’t quite as accurate as she’d have liked, but maybe Fine wouldn’t notice. Everything else was okay, after all. With no time left to deal with it, she hurried to the door and opened it, making sure her best smile was in place as she did. “Morning, Fine! Sleep well?” Fine’s eyes roamed over her, travelling from hoof to eyes in about a second. There was the barest hint of concern in him as he answered. “As well as can be expected in a new bed. How about you?” Was there something different in how he asked the question? He knows! No, no, he doesn’t know a thing, and I’m gonna keep it that way. “I slept great! Yesterday really tuckered me out.” He glanced towards her bed. The concern hadn’t faded. “I see.” Distraction! Come on, Pinkamena, think of something! Her Pinkie Sense chose that opportunity to remind her that it had near perfect, if wholly mystifying, timing. The twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, and itchy nose combo came back, complete with sneeze. That might get annoying before long. Fine’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Please tell me that doesn’t mean we’re about to get caught in some crazy adventure.” Giggling, Pinkie allowed herself to relax. Distraction achieved! “No, but it does pose a itty bitty problem. That combo means somepony’s gonna visit us!” “A visitor?” Fine cocked his head, ears folding back as he considered this revelation. It took him no time at all to form a conclusion that brought a fresh smile to his face. “Sunflower?” She nodded, her mane flapping about while a rattling sound came from… somewhere. “I think so! I mean, I can’t say for absolut-a-positivi-sure, but who else could it be?” “You’re guess is as good as mine, and I choose to guess Sunflower until proven otherwise.” He stepped aside and gestured invitingly. “Want to go get some breakfast? Mr. Collate intended to be here bright and early to make us something.” “That sounds really nice of him.” Following him out and closing the door, Pinkie asked, “What’s the occasion?” Fine chuckled and waved a hoof at her as if in demonstration. “You being really good for business, apparently. There’s nothing like Pinkie Pie to bring good cheer and draw in the ponies.” “Aww, shucks, it was nothin’,” she said, rubbing a hoof against her chest. As they approached the stairs, Fine asked, “So how does Sunflower coming over to visit pose a problem for us?” Oh, right. Her. “W-well, it’s not a ‘big’ problem. It’s just that I only know she’s coming. I don’t know when.” She tried to convey her apologies through her expression as they descended the stairs. “If we head out, we might miss her. But if we don’t head out, I won’t get to, um… y’know.” She glanced away, ears folding flat against her skull. “Show you anything.” Fine wrapped a hoof about her shoulder and gave her a squeeze, stopping them on the bottom step. “Don’t worry about that. We’ve got two weeks. That’s plenty of time to get things off our chests.” Their flanks were touching. The unexpected contact sent blood rushing to her cheeks, but that was the least of her concerns right now. She took a slow, shaky breath and tried to imprint the feeling of his arm around her shoulder in her mind. It was such a strangely simple gesture. But it was Fine Crime doing it, and that made it seem different somehow. “Pinkie?” The concern returned to his eyes as he met her gaze. “You alright?” “I’m fine, it’s just…” She reached up to touch his hoof, a light smile forming on her lips. “I don’t think you’d have done this a year ago.” His leg was off her in an instant. He backed away, face brighter than the dawning sun and eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… uh…” He turned away sharply, tail flicking. “D-did I overstep?” It was almost certainly the wrong thing to do, and she did feel a bit guilty for it, but she couldn’t resist a giggle at his expense. Trotting up to him, she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder with a pleasant hum. “You didn’t do anything wrong, silly. If a leg around the shoulder is a crime, I’ve got a few lifetime sentences to serve.” Oh, that made it sound like the contact had been merely friendly! And maybe it was, but she didn’t want it to be where he was involved. She desired a lot more out of him than friendly hugs! “Right.” He gave a weak, nervous laugh. “Sorry. I j-just don’t know the boundaries yet, y’know?” There are no boundaries, handsome. Pushing that dirty little thought aside and making what she considered a valiant effort not to blush for it, Pinkie patted him on the head playfully. “Don’t worry, these things take practice. It’ll be a long time before you’re the Master Friend Pony I am.” His laugh was far more genuine this time. He stepped away and used his magic to put his mane back in place. “I don’t think there’s a pony in Equestria who could get to your level of ‘Friendship Mastery’.” “Aww, flatterer.” She batted her eyes at him before bursting into giggles. “This is a good thing, though! You’re getting better at the whole ‘touchy feely’ thing. Soon enough we’ll have you dancing on the streets and singing in the rain!” His expression faltered into uncertainty. “Uh, yeah, I don’t think so. You know I can’t sing, Pinkie.” The admission made her falter in her step, but she recovered quickly. That’s right. She knew that. It was one of the major things she wanted to talk about with him, because it was just so sad. “W-well, I dunno, maybe you just haven’t found the right song?” His lips became a thin line and he abruptly started studying the corner of the room. “I…” “Ah, you’re awake.” Mr. Collate stepped through the doors from the kitchen, all smiles. “How’s my best guests in the history of ever doing?” Pinkie didn’t know why she so readily (and literally) jumped for the distraction, but didn’t let herself lose any momentum. “Awake, happy, and hungry, in that order!” She landed next to the inn’s owner and bent her body sideways, bumping his shoulder with the top of her head and flashing her most charming, hopeful smile. “And I hear somepony’s got some yummy breakfast goodies for us?” Mr. Collate hesitated for only a moment at her manner before regaining his smile. “Not yet, but soon! You ponies ever had a Rockstead Stack?” Other, more ignorant ponies would have referred to Pinkie’s gasp as ‘exaggerated’, but she knew that it was the perfect length and volume to adequately describe the way his words had given her heart palpitations. She raised her hoof high and declared, “I have, and I want!” He chuckled and nodded before turning back for the kitchen. “Then find yourselves a seat and give me ten minutes. You two are my official taste testers while you’re here.” Pinkie bounced from the floor to the nearest table, which happened to be one next to a wide window with a perfect view of the street outside. “You got it! We’ll be waiting right here for our delicious breakfast, Mr. Collate!” She felt as if she might die from eagerness, her every molecule vibrating with the desire to have the nostalgic treat. Fine settled perpendicular to her, appearing both amused and worried in tandem. “You’re sure excited about a, uh, 'stack'.” Taking on a sly look, she leaned over and poked his shoulder “Come on, Fine. I thought you knew things. Aren’t you supposed to be a super smart writer pony?” He shot her a mock pout and declared with flaunted disdain, “My smarts may be a fact, but even I don’t get this ‘stack’.” So he wanted to play the Zecora game, did he? She huffed and swept her hoof about them as if to put the whole dining room on display. “In Rockstead is where we be! Surely that will help you see?” He raised an eyebrow, barely keeping his lips from quirking upwards. “This location provides no information for the education of this learned patron.” She blinked. Woah, he’s good. “Uh, well, let me give you a clue: what do Rockstead ponies do?” That didn’t sound half as good out loud as it had in her head. He didn’t miss a beat. “Mine and find gems so divine they shine.” Was she sweating? Her brain worked overtime for a counter. “That answer is such a crock, they seek not gems but only rocks!” Hah, good one, Pinkamena! “Rocks are their stock, shiny or mock, but that doesn’t unlock the tick in my tock.” He finished by tapping the side of his head. Goddess, he made it sound so easy! If only he didn’t look so handsome when smug. No, stay in the game! “Think of formations to, uh… h-help in this situation?” “Such a dictation may aid my station in this narration of my vexation regarding mentation in—” “Pancakes!” She threw up her hooves in defeat. “A stack is a type of rock formation and a pile of pancakes is a stack, so a Rockstead Stack is a pile of pancakes!” She dropped her chin to the table, panting and limp, and let her tongue loll out. “Aw, nuts.” Fine smirked and shook his head. “And I was on a roll.” Gulping one last, long breath, she sat up straight once more. “Where in the wide world did you learn to rhyme like that?” He brushed his mane back in a playful, flippant manner. “One of the perks of living so close to Zecora is that I get to engage her in rhyme battles for practice on a regular basis.” His smile faded as he added ominously, “She’s a tough opponent.” Yes, Pinkie could see how that would develop a pony’s rhyming skills. She wondered at just how large a vocabulary Fine was secretly sporting. “Wait, you visit Zecora regularly?” “Yep.” At her nonplussed look, he frowned. “What? You’re not my only friend. I had to work closely with her when we were trying to figure out where to put my house in the Everfree, and we're practically next-door neighbors.” She flinched, feeling guilty even though he’d misconstrued her reaction. “Sorry. I just had no idea you and Zecora were buddies.” Then that thought clicked in her head, and her lips parted in a toothy grin so wide she felt her cheeks ache. “You and Zecora are buddies! Fine, that’s amazing. You’re making friends all on your own!” A fire erupting in his cheeks, he glanced away and rubbed his neck. “It’s not that big of a deal. Is it?” She leaned over to give him a one-legged squeeze. “Of course it’s a big deal, silly. Friends are no small matter, and I was worried you were having trouble making them. My little colt is coming into his own.” She sat back in her cushion and pressed her hooves to her cheeks. “Oh, I’m so proud.” “I get it, I get it.” He tried to look serious, but the pink in his cheeks refused to go away. Averting his eyes from her ongoing grin, he asked, “So what makes these ‘Rockstead Stacks’ so special, anyway?” “They’re layered with boiled tuffscadines, of course.” Fine’s eyes crossed, making her giggle. “What’s a tuffscadine?” It was Mr. Collate, just arriving from the kitchens, who answered. “They’re like muscadines, only they grow best in dry places.” He brought with him a pair of plates loaded with quadruple stacks of pancakes covered in a yellow syrup, the sight of which had Pinkie bouncing in her seat. As he set them down before his two customers, he added, “It takes about two hours to boil them to a proper tenderness with the skin still on, but they make an amazing jelly or syrup when you do.” Pinkie already had a large portion of pancake in her mouth, the sugar and tart mixing together to make a veritable explosion of flavor in her mouth. She sat back, eyes on the ceiling and grinning. “Nd dey tst shoooo gud.” Not as good as her Granny Pie’s, but close enough. Granny… She shoved the memory away before it could properly form, attacking it with an extra application of pancake to the oral cavity. There’d be another time for… her. She took note of Fine, who maintained a suspicious expression as he carefully cut a slice of pancake away with his fork and knife and levitated the piece to his mouth. Mr. Collate and Pinkie watched in combined silence as he slowly, cautiously deposited the slice of syrup-coated dough between his lips. His eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again. His lips puckered out for a moment as he flinched, but then he rolled his jaw, clearly trying to get as much of the new taste as he could. Pinkie and Mr. Collate leaned forward in quiet expectation, Pinkie while adding another bite to her eager maw. Fine tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, still working his jaw and making thoughtful hums. At long last, he swallowed. “That has got to be strangest combination of sour and sweet I’ve ever had.” After a moment’s consideration, which he filled by eyeing the pancakes as one would an unfamiliar plant that might be poisonous, he allowed himself another, smaller bite. After devoting far less time sampling the flavor, he swallowed and declared, “I think I like it.” “Hah!” Mr. Collate pumped his hoof. “Score one for the Rock Bottom! Now I’ve got a signature breakfast item to go with my new breakfast menu.” Pinkie’s ears perked at this. Taking a moment to wipe her mouth free of syrupy yellow goodness, she asked, “You mean you’re gonna open the dining room for breakfast from now on?” “Not yet, but soon.” He rubbed his hooves together, eyes taking on a gleam of devilish glee. “I’ve been wanting to open earlier for over a year now, and all the extra business lately will finally make it feasible.” Fine raised an eyebrow. “But isn’t all that new business going to die down once REGAL leaves?” “It was never about the demand,” Mr. Collate replied, his proud gaze drifting over the dining room. “Just about financing. Don’t worry, Mr. Crime—” he missed Fine’s flinch entirely “—I can make it work.” “Don’t worry, Petri, we believe in you,” Pinkie cheered. It was true for her part. At least Fine held his skepticism in. “I appreciate that.” Mr. Collate nodded to them and gestured to their plates. “And this is on the house. Your unsolicited stunt yesterday earned me near-record sales last night, so it’s the least I can do.” Fine appeared ready to argue, but Pinkie beat him to the punch. “Aww, thanks, Petri, you ol’ softy, you.” Petri merely chuckled and went back to the kitchens, humming a jaunty tune as he did. “If he knew how much I made in just a week, he’d have never made the offer,” Fine said before going back to work on his Rockstead Stack. “I feel guilty accepting his generosity.” “And that’s why you have me around,” Pinkie informed him, already more than halfway done with hers. “You don’t reject somepony’s generous offer, Fine. It’s rude.” “Even when you really don’t need it?” Raising one eyebrow, then the other, she pointed at him and declared in a semi-lecturing tone, “You need lessons from Rarity.” “I just don’t think—” “Why can’t you sing?” He paused, a slice of syrup-lathered pancake hanging before him and threatening to drop its sticky coating on the table. “Whowanow?” “Singing. You know, like ponies do.” Pinkie took the time to lick her plate clean of tuffscadine juices, then sat back and gave a demure belch. “Equines are natural musicians. Everypony can sing. Even if they don’t have amazing voices, they find ways to make it work. So it doesn’t make any sense that you can’t sing.” She giggled before adding, “I should know, I heard Cranky croon for Matilda once.” Fine’s face twisted into an expression perfectly combining disgust and disbelief. “Cranky?” She nodded solemnly in return. “Cranky.” His ears flicked, and for a while he focused on eating. She suspected he was trying to justify the idea of Cranky Doodle singing… well, anything. It had been kinda sweet, in truth. Mr. Collate came out with some glasses of apple juice (“Straight from Sweet Apple Acres, this stuff! You’ll never drink better apple juice in your life.”) and returned to the kitchen whilst Fine ruminated. At last, after finishing two thirds of his Rockstead Stack, he pushed the plate away and said, “I don’t know. All my life, song has eluded me. I just figured I couldn’t do it.” “Pish-posh,” she countered primly, tilting her head with each syllable. “All of Equestria’s four-legged friends can sing. I guarantee it! You can’t tell me you’re the only pony under the Sun and Moon who can’t, that…” She frowned as the idea took root in her mind. It seemed so… sad. “That would be horrible.” He shrugged. “It’s not that bad.” Those four simple words were like a splash of ice cold water to the face. She went limp, ears folding back and jaw falling loose. “Not that bad? Not that bad? How could you possibly think that?” Scowling, Fine turned his face away and muttered, “I don’t see what the big deal is. What’s so great about singing?” “You say that because you haven’t done it.” She snatched his abandoned plate and downed the pancake he’d not eaten, then drank all her apple juice in one go. Slamming it to the table, she declared. “This won’t do, so I’m gonna do something about it! Get your vocal cords flexed, Fine, ‘cause I’m gonna teach you to sing.” “Nope!” He was on his hooves and headed for the door. “I’m taking a walk. You get that out of your system and then maybe I’ll—” The world blurred, and Pinkie was between him and the door. She grinned and bounced to the left, preventing him from going around, then giggled and hopped to the right. “No escape, pal! I’m not gonna let you be the tuneless wonder forever.” Fine stepped back, shot her a deadpan look, then ignited his horn. Dark clouds began to form around him. “Sunflower’s coming today.” The smoke faded, and Fine was gone. Pinkie sat and began counting out loud, smirking all the while. “One, and a two, and a…” She pointed at the spot where Fine had disappeared just in time for the smoke to come back, rising up from the floor in what some might have thought an ominous display. When they parted, Fine stood glowering at her. “I’m supposed to be the sneaky one.” Chuckling, she leaned towards him with an amused, “Sooooo?” “No.” The finality in his tone startled her, but not as much as the hardness of his eyes. “I’m not going to humiliate myself like that.” “Aww, come on.” She gestured around the dining room. “There’s nopony here to judge. If it really bugs you, we can head up to one of our rooms and do it. How does that sound?” “No.” If anything, his expression had become harder. It was enough to make Pinkie realize that his seriousness wasn’t an act after all. She sat up straight, lip trembling as it dawned upon her that Fine truly didn’t want to know the joy of music. She couldn’t understand it. The very concept of his position was just so… so alien. And sad. So very sad. So sad it seemed something was trying to twist her little heart into knots. She tucked her tail around her flank and whispered, “No?” At her reaction, Fine lost his grim countenance and heaved a long, slow sigh. “I appreciate you mean well, Pinkie, but no. It’s just not in me to do it. I accepted that long ago. And I’m not going to pretend to be somepony I’m not by trying. Not even for those pretty blue eyes.” His offhoof comment eased the pain a fraction. Pinkie still wished he’d give singing a try, but now she knew better than to press him. Fine had his limits, and it was clear this was one of them. She couldn’t imagine how joyless his life must be without song, but if that was his position… She shook her head. No, she wouldn’t accept it! If he couldn’t know the pleasure of singing, she’d just have to make sure he was happy with everything else in his life. “Alright, buster,” she said at last, setting her hooves to her hips and glaring at him. “Then we’ll find some other way to make you smile. I won’t accept anything less.” To this he merely raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Come on, Pinkie. I’ve got you in my life. That’s plenty enough reason to smile.” Just like that, the grip on her heart disappeared, allowing it to happily flutter about her ribcage. Cheeks burning, she glanced away with a forced chuckle. “You’re j-just trying to butter me up so I won’t be mad about this.” “Hmm… maybe.” He turned away and glanced about the dining room. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful for being released from his pleasant, rosewood eyes. “Alright, so Sunflower’s coming. I guess we aren’t going anywhere for a while. Unless Pinkie Sense is telling you otherwise?” With predictably perfect timing, the twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, itchy nose combo came back with a vengeance. At least she didn't sneeze this time. Waiting until it ended, she said, “Nope, still on her way.” “Right.” He plopped his flank to the floor. “So what are we gonna do in the meantime?” Pinkie’s instinct screamed at her to say something relating to games, or music, or party planning, or party planning while playing games and listening to music. But she also saw this for the opportunity it was, so she shoved all those ideas down and approached, settling down a couple steps at his side. “We could always tell stories.” At his curious look, she added, “Simple stories. Low-baggage ones. To get to know one another better?” “Ah.” He nodded, smiling warmly. “Light ones. Sounds good. Why don’t we take it upstairs so we’re not in the way when the place opens?” They headed for the stairs side-by-side. Pinkie considered stepping closer, but resisted the urge. It might be too soon for that. She didn’t want to appear needy or overeager, after all. The memory of when he’d hugged her earlier made it a little harder to resist, but she tried to keep her heart fluttering by recalling his little compliment about her eyes. “So,” he said as they reached the second floor, “You want to go first, or should I?” Shaking herself from her romantic thoughts, she tried to keep her response as casual as possible. “I’ll go. It’s my turn, after all. Did I ever tell you about the first time I foalsat the Cake Twins?” Fine grinned at Pinkie’s antics, watching as she kicked her hooves at the air and laughed uproariously. “I can’t believe you got Fleur to foalsit as cover! How in Equestria did you convince her to do that?” “Oh, that was easy,” he replied, rubbing a hoof against his chest as he did. “I just told her the father was a target and he had a ‘thing’ for foalsitters. She fell for it hook, line, and sinker.” Unable to stop her giggles, she managed to wheeze out, “Oh, I… b-bet she… was driven crazy!” He nodded, smirking at the memory of Fleur’s scowling face when she’d returned from that little mission. “She wouldn’t speak to me for a week after that. I knew she wasn’t fond of little foals, but until then I’d no idea just how bad she was with them! Honestly, I don’t know how she got through the week without committing infanticide.” Pinkie, at last regaining control of her laughter, asked, “Ah, but did she finish the mission?” “To her credit.” He sat back against the bed frame and stared out at the forest through the window of Pinkie’s hotel room. “Got the information she needed, and I even heard she did a decent job as a foalsitter. Although, honestly? I suspect she might have doctored those reports to hide the truth. She always was sensitive about her image.” They fell silent, save for Pinkie’s occasional giggles. Fine sat at the foot of Pinkie’s bed, staring at the forest, while Pinkie lay on the bed itself and watched the ponies go by on the street below. They’d been up there for hours sharing little stories, most of them silly and inconsequential. At least a third of Fine’s stories had related to Fleur de Lis and the ongoing, back-and-forth war they waged for fun. He’d had no problem telling Pinkie about his apprentice and chosen heir. He knew she could keep a secret better than anypony, especially important ones like those relating to the Archons. Pinkie’s stories had been wide-ranging, mostly involving her own little antics with her friends. Rainbow Dash and Rarity were her favorite topics for this, it seemed, if only because their reactions to her pranking were the best for entirely different reasons. But it seemed that they’d at last run out of steam. Fine didn’t mind. He was perfectly content to sit there and enjoy her quiet company. They did that sometimes. Pinkie, for all her energy and playfulness, always seemed to know when it was time to relax and say nothing. How she knew this, he couldn’t imagine. Just being Pinkie Pie, he supposed. After a few long minutes of quiet between them, Pinkie finally spoke up. “How did you meet Fleur?” Had he not told her that? No, he supposed not. It shouldn’t be a big issue, but now that she mentioned it… it really was a personal matter, wasn’t it? Not that he minded telling her. The topic simply hadn’t come up. A lot of things about Fleur tended not to come up. How curious. “I met her during the Dragon War.” He’d tried to keep his tone conversational, but Pinkie must have detected something he hadn’t. He could hear her shifting on the bed. Was there something about this topic that worried her? “You don’t talk much about the war.” She approached these subjects cautiously, as a pony might approach a slumbering manticore. “Was it… bad?” “Bad?” He turned his head to glance at her out the corner of his eye, but her face was hidden from him by her mane. Long and straight. That meant something, surely. “I guess that depends. In a general sense, yeah, it was bad. A lot of ponies died.” He brought his stare back to the forest, the many limbs that shifted in the breeze. “But for me? It was dangerous, sure, but not… ‘bad.’ Fleur had it far worse than I did.” Pinkie hesitantly asked, “How so?” How much to reveal? Not much, he realized. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Fleur for the full story. There are certain private matters involved, and I think it would be improper of me to tell that tale in her place.” “Oh. I’m sorry—” “But,” he interrupted before she could jump too far into her conclusions, “I can tell you that she was a filly, barely a teenager, when the dragons attacked Mirar el Cielo. There were only two survivors. She was one of them.” Pinkie was silent for a time. He wondered what was going through her head now that he’d revealed such information. Was she horrified? Confused? Curious? Or perhaps it was just information, something too far removed for her to attach herself to emotionally. Looking back, she’d have been… eleven? Perhaps. Probably old enough to remember the Longest Day. “She was only a child?” The question was so soft, so full of emotion, that it drove him to roll around and look at her properly. Pinkie’s face remained hidden, though. “Yes,” he whispered, keeping his gaze locked on her mane. “I first met her at Estéril Pezuñas. I wasn’t the Mane Archon back then. I’d been put on special assignment to determine the dragons’ motivations. I met Fleur when I snuck into her room and interrogated her about the attack.” At last, Pinkie turned her head towards him. It wasn’t much, just enough that she could look at him with one eye through her bangs. Through that blue eye he saw a bevy of emotions, conflicting and heavy. Concern, it seemed, was chief among them. “Is that when she became your apprentice?” “Oh, no. Not for a while later.” He smiled at a memory from that time which had never grown old. “But she wanted to be. She was so insistent that I couldn’t seem to get rid of her. Followed me all the way out into the Burning Lands and into a Changeling nest.” Pursing her lips, Pinkie toyed with a fold of the quilt on her bed. “Why was she so determined?” He opened his mouth, but then thought better of it. He’d already said he couldn’t reveal everything, and this felt like more private territory. After taking a moment to consider how Fleur might react, he finally replied, “She had her reasons. Suffice to say they were good enough, and her will strong enough, that I couldn’t bring myself to abandon her. We’ve had one another’s backs ever since.” Pinkie gave a quiet hum, her hooves wringing the quilt as her tail flicked a couple times. “So, is she… I mean, you two must be close, and…” What was with this curious behavior? “As close as can be expected, given the circumstances.” He chuckled and went back to his seated position, watching the trees once more. “Don’t tell her I said so, but I see her as a little sister. Then again, go ahead and tell her. She’s so cute when flustered.” Her giggles rang through the room, a little louder than normal. He thought he detected… relief? “Maybe I’ll do that.” Things got quiet again after that, and Fine contented himself with watching the shimmering leaves outside. He idly wondered if Sunflower would be coming by soon. Should they be downstairs to meet her, or would Mr. Collate just send her to their rooms? He wasn’t sure he cared for either. These quiet moments with Pinkie were far more relaxing than he would have expected. “Who was the other one?” Jarred from his thoughts, he tilted his head back. “The other what?” “Survivor.” Pinkie scooted a little closer so she could look down at him from overhead. “At Mirar el Cielo.” “Oh. Sir Fancy Pants.” A blink. Another. “Really?” She settled back on the bed, eyes focusing on nothing as she took this in. “I never would have guessed. Does Rarity know?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. He’s not fond of talking about the war.” He tapped his chin as he recalled all he knew of the stallion in their brief encounters. His best memories came from the attack on Estéril Pezuñas, of course. “It’s a shame. He really is quite the heroic fellow. He shouldn’t be so modest.” “Hmm. So what did you do during the war?” “Oh, nothing much.” He grinned as his mind cast back to the war once again. “Rescued Celestia. And my boss, whom I never let live it down. Infiltrated a changeling nest, rescued some dragon eggs, befriended Parjin the Elder. And there was that whole ‘killed the massive dragon that had fought Celestia to a standstill’ thing, but really, who cares about that bit?” If an eye roll could be given voice, it would have matched the tone of her dry, “I’ve seen the skull in your basement, y’know.” “Hey.” He craned his neck back until he could see her face. He took on a mock-lecturing manner as he said, “You’re talking to a bona fide dragonslayer, here. I think that calls for some respect.” To his surprise, she actually looked repentant. “I’m sorry, you’re right. That must have been a horrible experience, fighting a dragon.” “Whoa, whoa, hey.” He rolled to face her properly, reaching out to touch her hoof. “It was only… I mean, yeah, it was a pretty tough ordeal. I barely made it out alive. But it’s not like it hurts to talk about it or anything.” When she didn’t immediately cheer up, he tilted his head closer, trying to look her in the eyes. “What’s wrong?” Biting her lip, Pinkie brought her eyes up to his. “I don’t know. It’s just… you’ve done so much. You’re still doing so much. I know you can’t tell me everything you’ve done as an Archon, but I understand it’s a lot. You guys are, like, the unsung heroes of Equestria.” Cocking his head, he couldn’t resist pointing out, “You’ve done a lot, too. Does Nightmare Moon ring any bells? And let’s not forget how much you sacrificed going up against Rex like you did.” With a whimper, she tucked her forelegs under her barrel. Perhaps she was feeling her scars? There was a flash of – fear? – in her eyes, but only for a moment. “I’m not denying that. I just… I don’t feel like I’ve given you enough respect for your achievements.” Fine’s mind scrambled for some kind of answer. This obviously bothered her, and he wanted to help, but… he didn’t really get it. “That’s normally a good thing,” he said, fishing for some kind of direction to take this. “Most don’t even know the Archons exist. We don’t do it for the admiration of the common pony.” She grasped his hoof, her eyes imploring. “But I don’t want to be your ‘common pony’. I want to be your pony. And not fully appreciating everything you’ve done makes me feel…” She glanced away, ears folding back. “Inadequate.” What happened next was beyond Fine’s ability to fathom. His heart had begun pounding, a fierce staccato rhythm that left him feeling strangely breathless. His cheeks felt on fire and his eyes were glued to hers, and for the first time he came to truly understand what writers meant when they referred to ‘falling into her eyes’. “Y-you…” He swallowed, for his throat had become dry all of a sudden. “You’re not—” He flinched to the sound of knocking, and the atmosphere shattered. They pulled away from one another, Pinkie’s head bowing as she went ramrod straight. Fine stared at her, wishing he could get that feeling back. It had been so brief, so fleeting he’d not gotten a chance to really grasp it! And he wanted to grasp it. Hold it before it got away! If he could only— Another knock stopped him from approaching. Heaving a sigh, he went to the door and tried not to be angry at whoever this interloper was. “Yes?” He was mildly pleased that he’d avoided growling the word out. “Fine Crime? Pinkie Pie?” “Sunflower!” Pinkie was at the door in an instant, her mane a mess of curls once more. Fine stumbled back, thrown entirely off guard by her instantaneous shift in behavior. She flung the door open and pounced on their visitor, embracing her in a hug that made her eyes bug out. “I knew you’d be coming, my Pinkie Sense is never wrong!” How did she do that? Just go from one extreme to the next in a heartbeat? “That’s… nice… Pinkie…” Sunflower squirmed, her cheeks gradually going more and more blue. “I… wanted… P-Pinkie… breathe…” Pinkie only squeezed tighter, and Fine couldn’t help wondering if this wasn’t some subtle act of revenge on Pinkie’s part. At last, she let loose, and her ‘victim’ collapsed to the floor with a gasp. Pinkie bounced in place, somehow knowing exactly how to lower her head to not bang it on the top of the doorframe. “It’s so good to see you, Sunny! When I got my twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, and itchy nose combo I just knew it had to be you coming and I’ve been excited all day because I’m really looking forward to seeing what kind of tricks you wanna do for the party which is going to be super-de-duper fun and even more super-de-duper fun now but with a lot more ‘de’s in there because we’re gonna have a cool magician pony who doesn’t talk in the third pony which is kinda sad because you were originally going to be her but then that was deemed too easy and it didn’t fit with the timeline anyway so we got you instead and that might disappoint some fans but I think it’s great because it means I get to make a whole new friend who is good with non-magicky magic and can do cool tricks and make ponies happy and I’m just sooooo excited right now I think I might explode!” Fine offered Sunflower a hoof, unable to keep from grinning. “Did you get all that?” “Not even close.” Accepting his hoof, she stood and took one last, recovering breath. “Is she always this excited to meet new ponies?” How could he answer with anything but an emphatic “Yes!” He glanced at the beaming Pinkie and added, “Or planning parties. Lucky for you, today she’s gonna be doing both, so you’ll get the Sweet & Elite version.” Sunflower blinked. “The what now?” “Inside joke.” He leaned closer with a hoof raised as if to hide his lips and said in a faux-whisper, “If she ever asks for a drink called the Sweet & Elite, for the love of Luna do not let her have it.” “Hey!” Pinkie pushed him aside and poked his chest with the tip of her hoof, expression a mockery of sternness. “I do not have a sugar problem, bucko! I can manage my doses just fine. Usually. Sometimes.” Her eyes promptly lit up and her tail began to wag at a blurring pace. “D-do you think we could teach Mr. Collate how to make one?” “No!” “Aww…” “You two are so cute together.” Sunflower giggled at what Fine was sure was their matching blushes. “So, business before pleasure. Pinkie, you wanna head downstairs and talk about how this is gonna go?” “Abso-positivi-lutely! Come on, let’s—” “Ah!” Sunflower thrust her hoof forward, pressing it against Pinkie’s lips with wide eyes. Pinkie kept trying to talk through her hoof for about thirty seconds before finally acquiring a questioning look. “Sorry.” Sunflower pulled her hoof back with an awkward smile. “I was kind afraid you’d go on another rant. Plus, I kinda had something to say to Fine.” “Oh, no problem.” Was there a hint of hesitation there? Fine watched Pinkie bounce her way into the hallway, again somehow managing to avoid cracking her skull on the door frame. “I’ll just head downstairs and set us up a table for planning. See you in a minute!” Fine raised his hoof halfway, prepared to tell her she didn’t have to go, but she was already gone. Pouting, he set his hoof back down and sighed. Noting his disappointment, Sunflower offered a quiet, “Sorry.” “It’s okay, I guess.” He just wished he knew what that bout of hesitation had been, assuming he hadn’t been imagining things. Shaking the stray thoughts from his skull, he gave her his full attention. “So what did you want to say?” “Ask, actually.” Sunflower shifted from hoof to hoof, her eyes landing on anything in the room that wasn’t him. “Th-this may be a personal thing. Or pr-private. Wait, those are the same… nevermind.” Fine chuckled at her antics. “Is it really that bad? Just ask. I promise not to get mad or anything, if that’s what’s bothering you.” “No. I mean yes! I… I don’t know what I mean.” Dropping heavily to her haunches, she began rubbing her hooves together. “Look, you used to be a… well, not a bad pony, I guess, with what you did for me, but not a good pony, either? And I was really happy to see you again, n-not that I’m not now! But I just, how we met and… and what you did and it was really scary and—” She paused, forced herself to take a deep breath, started over. “You said you don’t do that anymore. And I want to believe you, but—” “But you’re afraid I just said that to make you more comfortable, is that it?” She shrank back, ears going flat against her skull. “I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or anything! I just don’t…” Fine raised his hoof, the motion silencing her before she could go into another rambling attempt at explaining herself. He offered the warmest smile he could. “It’s okay, Sunflower. I get it. And you have every right to be afraid. So what would it take for me to convince you we’re perfectly sane and not going to go around slaughtering the party guests?” If anything, Sunflower seemed to shrink back even more. “A letter from the princesses would do it.” It had been practically a whisper, and he was sure he wasn’t meant to hear it. Obviously, she meant that he couldn’t convince her, but he only nodded. “That can be arranged. I did bring my potion for contacting Luna, just in case of emergencies.” She stared at him for a moment, and he was sure he could see the gears in her skull locking up. But then they started again, and she slapped a hoof over her muzzle. “Oh. My. Celestia! You were not supposed to hear that! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—” “No, stop.” He waved away her apologies with a grin. “I’m being serious. I work directly for Princess Luna. And Pinkie doesn’t work for Celestia directly, but they do know one another.” Sunflower leaned forward to peer at him, shifting her head to study him from various angles. More than used to this kind of treatment, Fine waited with a patient smile until she’d completed her thorough inspection. At last she sat back, face scrunched up in uncertainty, and asked, “You’re not pulling my horn… are you?” “Don’t ask Pinkie that, she might actually pull on it.” He chuckled at her wince. “But I can prove it, and very easily. All I have to do is ask Luna to visit you in your dreams tonight.” If her eyes grew any bigger they might roll out of their sockets. “You can do that?” Fine resisted the urge to look smug, no matter how much he wanted to. With how she was reacting to things right now, she might think he was being insincere. No, best to play things straight around Sunflower for now. “Sure. All she needs is your name and general location. So?” He stared at her. She stared right back. “So?” After making a rolling motion with his hoof, he asked. “Would you like to meet her?” “Oh, no!” She shook her head frantically. “I wouldn’t want to impose!” It sounded like she believed him. Then again, she could just be saying it for fear of what might happen otherwise. And that, he realized, settled the matter. Whether she wanted it or not, she was getting a visit from Luna soon. In all likelihood she would forgive him once the matter was ended. And besides, he suspected Luna would be quite eager to meet a pony from his distant past. “Well, for now all I can do is give you my reassurance that Pinkie and I are free of any murderous desires.” Should he mention that a big part of why they were here was for Pinkie to overcome her lingering guilt? No, too private. If Pinkie wanted that information known, she’d mention it herself. But judging from Sunflower’s fidgeting, she wasn’t consoled. He sighed and raised her chin with his magic, making her look him in the eyes. “Sometime in the next few days, come by and we’ll address this properly, alright? I don’t want that little filly I helped so long ago to be afraid of me. That would…” He hesitated, realizing he might be revealing too much. “It meant something to me, that time. I don’t think I’d be where I am today without what happened between us. So please, Sunflower. Give us a chance.” Releasing her chin, he stepped back to give her some space. Then, with a warm smile, “I promise you won’t regret it.” Sunflower didn’t look away again. She studied him, eyes inquisitive and uncertain. At last, she nodded. “Alright. You gave me a second chance at life. I should extend you the same courtesy.” She smiled bashfully and kicked at the floorboards. “And so you know, I’m not afraid of you. At least, not for myself. What you did means a lot to me, too. I just worry for others, y’know?” “That’s perfectly reasonable and I greatly appreciate it. Now.” He gestured for the door. “I’d say you’ve got twenty seconds to get down there before Pinkie forgets she’s supposed to be waiting for us and comes up to make us talk faster.” With a giggle, Sunflower turned to leave. “You’re right, she seems the type.” Once in the hallway, she noticed he’d not followed. “Are you coming?” “In a minute. I’ve got something I need to do.” After she’d gone, Fine closed the door and did a quick teleport into his room. It was dark, the blinds covering the lone window and all lights turned out. He left it that way for now, his thoughts drifting to Pinkie. They’d had a moment. Hadn’t they? A fleeting instant of a connection he hadn’t understood. In the dark he could see her eyes, so large. Scared, but hopeful at the same time. The phantom made his heart beat a little faster, and he tried to fathom why. A regular pony might have leapt at the sensation, attempted to define it as something so enthusiastic as ‘love’. Fine was not a regular pony. He wouldn’t jump to that conclusion. At least, not again. He didn’t dare make the same mistake with Pinkie as he had with Fluttershy. He had a connection with her too, and misinterpreting it had been one of the most painful mistakes in his life, to say nothing of what it ended up costing Pinkie. There’d been a fundamental flaw in his thinking with Fluttershy, something so basic that he still beat himself up for not noticing it sooner. The compatibility, the capacity to accept one another’s differences in worldview, hadn’t existed. They tolerated one another, even appreciated their opposing perspectives. But in the end, the gap had been too wide to bridge. Without confidence that a bridge existed between Pinkie and him, or could at least be built, Fine didn’t dare make dangerous assumptions. Maybe it had been love. Or perhaps it had simply been the passion of the moment. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. And it was too early to act. They had a foundation. But that was just one piece of the puzzle. For now, he pushed the Pinkie problem aside in favor of something else. He ignited the lamps of his room and went to the bedside table, where he’d put his potion and letter paper. Sunflower was going to get a surprise visit tonight. He wondered if he could get Luna to let him watch.