It was a beautiful day outside—the birds chirping, the wind cool, and all made the better for being in bed. Lyra twisted in her covers and sighed, folding up the corners of her sheets beneath her hooves. There was nothing better than this, except perhaps pancakes with syrup. Definitely pancakes and maple syrup.
"Bonnie?" Lyra called over the edge of her bed. "Can we have pancakes?"
From downstairs, she heard a quiet shuffling as Bon Bon stepped away from whatever she’d been making. From beneath the floorboards, she heard Bonnie yell, "If you mean, am I going to make you pancakes, no! It's way past breakfast anyway!"
Lyra sighed again. "You can't just say no to pancakes. Pooper."
She swung herself up and perched on the edge of her bed, hoof on chin.
"To make, or not to make..."
Of course it was desirable to partake of pancakes, of that there was no doubt. And yet to make them was to tax the body with labor and tax the mind as well, for one had to abstain from consuming the batter (although pancake batter was not as tempting as cookie dough).
For a long while she rolled the question about in her head, until at last the sun had heated up one side of her coat unfavorably and she was forced to hop off the bed and let her legs carry her towards the smells of molten caramel downstairs.
Today was a caramel day.
Downstairs, Bon Bon was working on a small batch of candies in the kitchen. Lyra wouldn't have recognized them if not for their smell. As Bon Bon poured the liquid sugar into little drops, Lyra padded into the kitchen, advancing from behind.
"Hiya Bon Bon!"
Lyra side-stepped smoothly around as Bon Bon turned to look at her, and expertly hoofing a warm caramel off the table in the process.
"What's a Lyra call a Bon Bon? Too slow!"
(Oh no,) Bon Bon quietly mouthed behind her. (you have bested me! Woe is I!)
Verdict declared, Lyra stuck the candy in her mouth and chewed. Warm sugar and sweetness, it was everything candy sought to be. It was not until she noticed the smile on her friends face that she realized she had been betrayed. A single tear ran down her cheek as the Cinna-Fire caramel revealed itself with a punch to the mouth of too much cinnamon. The tear was soon followed by a runny nose, but Lyra was passionate about keeping stolen candy and just a smidge stubborn, and did not spit out the caramel drop.
"mmmrph" Lyra cried, valiantly fighting for composure. "ishh hoh, owww..."
Bon Bon frowned, her face wrought with concern, and put her hoof to her ear, leaning towards Lyra. "Ohhhh, I couldn't hear you. What was that?"
Lyra looked up with with blurry eyes, confused. Her face and ears were uncomfortably warm. "Isshaid ish HOOHHHH, mmmm-"
Bon Bon scrunched up her nose to suppress her laughter. "Was that, "She's hot", or, "It's her", or..."
The cinnamon began attacking her mouth in earnest, and Lyra broke for the toilet.
There, she fought her nerves for control, her mouth—no, her very soul—writhing in a brilliant fire. For a moment, she transcended, and was the fire, her hair was fresh spun cinnamon sugar, burning and ethereal, her eyes were a golden molten caramels, her mint green coat was actually FIREY CINNAMON GREEN. But even in a state of cinnamon, she would not let a candy best her; she was stronger than that, and more resolved. No witchcraft could part her from sugar she had attained by craft or cunning! And as she choked, she called upon the spirits of mighty candy warriors before her, and swallowed.
Oh, how quickly the pain faded, leaving an aftertaste of cinnamon too sweet to be the truth, a lie told by the victor. Lyra raised a shaky hoof and wiped her face roughly, first smearing stray tears across her muzzle and again to clean herself up. Steadying herself on the toilet bowl, she mumbled to herself a vow of mighty vengeance on the House of Bon. Though this battle was over, there was still a war to be won.
Several snotty tissues later, Lyra was an older and wiser mare, stronger for the trials she had faced. Eventually, she opened the bathroom door and with heart in mouth trudged back to an old and familiar battleground, as Bon Bon finished up the last batch of pain-in-a-caramel.
Bon Bon, seemingly oblivious to her approach, gave no excuse for her crimes. Just as well.
"I don't forgive you."
And though her heart wavered, Lyra held herself firm, awaiting the inevitable return fire. Bon Bon didn't even turn around as she swept the last batch into a small gift-bag.
"Well, you shouldn't have stolen a candy then. I would've told you what they were if you had asked."
There it was. Guilt. Lyra did her best to hold her ground, but as the insidious words crept past her defenses, she knew in her heart they were true. She was indeed the poorer friend. She kept a stiff upper lip all the same, for war was no place to lose one's head.
"No you!"
At that Bon Bon did turn around, eyebrows furrowed and mouth a step behind her brain.
"...wat You-"
Lyra took her chance. "I'm making pancakes!"
And that was that. Lyra walked over to the fridge and pulled out the eggs and milk for her pancakes in torturous silence.
For a moment it seemed Lyra had miscalculated, as Bon Bon continued to stare, her mouth working out a protest. But as Lyra's logic ensnared its target, so too did Bon Bon realize the pointlessness of continued resistance.
Instead, Bon Bon leaned over and gave Lyra a quick hug, making a note to herself to get Lyra something nice at the market. Satisfied with the smile she received, Bon Bon left, taking her pain drops away to sell to... less fortunate souls.