Artemis lowered the parchment on which Twilight’s newest friendship (or rather, relationship) report was written, a quizzical eyebrow raised. “Pray tell me, sister dearest. Doth this be what thou call ‘friendzone’?”
“Oh yeah,” Celestia snickered like a filly. “Absolutely.”
“Ooof,” he said with a sympathetic flinch. “Big F.”
A moment of silence, followed by a heavy, long-suffering sigh.
“I know you need to learn Modern Equestrian, but I could really do without you saying that Me-forsaken letter over and over again in the least appropriate moments.”
There was a beat.
“... F.”
“I mean it! I can’t have you making such faux-passes!”
“Me? Faux-passes? Preposterous! My behaviour earlier today has been most impeccable and the very epitome of diplomacy!”
“The Kaiser was grieving! And you mocked him with a stupid meme!”
“I most categorically did not mock him!”
“He had just lost his beloved mother! We were there to pay respects!”
“Well aware, I am!”
“Good, good! And what do you say when paying your respects to a late pony?”
“F!”
“NO YOU DON’T! For the Allfather’s sake, Artemis! Are you aware of how much of a headache is that going to be down the line for our relationship with Herdmany for at least the next two generations? Willeschutz won’t forget this for as long as he lives, and we’ll be lucky if his daughter decides to forgive that you mocked her grandmother at her funeral! And if it wasn’t enough, we’ve got the Gala coming up in a few months…”
There was a beat.
Artemis raised his right forehoof, and put it down on Celestia’s shoulder in sympathy.
There was another beat.
“F,” he solemnly said.
“... I hate you so much, Moonbutt.”
Twilight Sparkle had never seen the Royal Engineers in action. There hadn’t ever been any need for them in either Canterlot or Ponyville, as they were only deployed to deal with natural disasters or to aid military campaigns on foreign lands. Indeed, most ponies were virtually unaware of the existence of the corps in the first place.
Still, for those that knew, their feats were almost the stuff of legends: the circumvallation and contravallation of the siege of Xlev, the bridge across the Rêne, the causeway during the siege of the island citadel of Ṣ’urf, the sea forts of Kallípony, or The Wall, among countless other structures that had shaped pony history.
Yet, Twilight couldn’t help but feel they all fell short when compared to the reconstruction of Ponyville.
A bold statement if there ever was one, but the thing is, all of the aforementioned wonders of engineering were built for and during warfare, rough structures that were either abandoned after their use or maintained and perfected during decades and centuries. They were not built overnight in their final form.
Yet, that was almost exactly what they had done with Ponyville.
Well, not truly overnight, but when you kept in mind that the Ursa’s rampage had happened barely under three weeks ago, the fact that they were already able to resettle ponies in their rebuilt homes was nothing short of astonishing.
“I told you my boys were the best at their jobs,” Shining smirked when he saw her wide eyes, walking alongside her down the street.
Twilight shook her head. “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, it’s just that…” she blinked repeatedly in disbelief, as if the rebuilt town was a mirage that would vanish from one blink to the other. It was all too surreal, for Ponyville to actually exist. “Wow.”
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” the Captain smugly replied. “You should have seen the look on the Neightalians' faces during the siege of Spárhrad. I swear, if the Royal Guard hadn’t gotten involved, the siege would still be going on.”
“That was three years ago,” Twilight pointed out, perplexed.
She remembered it all too well, because it had been the first time Shining was deployed to a theatre beyond Equestria’s own borders. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he had been dropped right into the war-torn eastern coast of Griffonia. And so she had been overcome with anxiety (to the point her grades took an unprecedented fall from A+++ to A++!), until he came back a few months later, tanned by the sun and weathered by the desert, but none the worse to wear.
“I cannot stress enough just how terrible the Neightalian army is,” her big brother facehoofed, his voice oozing contempt. “We even had instances of friendly fire because the soldiers were too drunk to tell the difference between a pony and a griffon. Can’t even make decent latrines...”
“That… actually explains a lot,” Twilight conceded, a pensive frown on her face. Neightalia’s status as one of Equestria’s main constituent kingdoms was one more given out of deference for its rich cultural heritage than anything else. It certainly wasn’t because of their military prowess or industrial capacity, which were, frankly, Equestria’s laughing stock.
“Yeah. It’s an absolute miracle that we actually got anything accomplished there,” Shining sighed, with the tiniest hint of a shudder in his voice. He didn’t like talking about that particular deployment, and Twilight got the impression she now knew why. After a small moment of silence, her brother changed the topic. “Where’s Spike? I haven’t seen him since I got here.”
“Trust me, Shiny, not even I know what he’s been up to,” Twilight replied dryly. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t been all that up to date with what’s been going on.” If she was not mistaken, he had been hanging out with Sweetie Belle and Elusive while she was glued to Applejack’s bedside. “Nothing burnt down, though, so I’d call it a win.”
“Fair enough,” Shining chuckled. Both siblings were well aware of Spike’s propensity of burning things down. After all, he was a dragon. “Well, there’s a reason your new house is fireproof. Every house, in fact,” he added as an afterthought.
Twilight turned around so fast she pulled her neck and saw stars dance in her sight. “I have a new house?!”
She didn’t dare believe it. After over a month (forty-nine days, as a matter of fact) of being homeless, of crashing at her friends’ places, of living in a drab army tent, she would finally get a house of her own? It was just too good to be true.
“Of course you do, Twily,” her elder brother smiled. “What, you thought I actually got any free time to just walk down the street with my lil’ sister?”
After a beat, Twilight shrugged. “I mean, maybe?”
Shining shook his head, laughing, and ruffled Twilight’s mane. “Ah, Twily. For being a certified genius, you’re such a doofus.”
“Hey!” She stuck her tongue at him.
“What? It’s true! Not only am I the Captain of the Royal Guard, but I’m also acting mayor of Ponyville! I’m swimming in mountains of overdue paperwork! How am I supposed to get any free time considering all the stuff I have to do?”
Well, touché. “How are the new elections coming along?”
“Awful,” Shining sighed. “Just awful. Besides, I’m lacking candidates. So far only Filthy Rich” – he spat the name, to Twilight’s surprise. What happened there? – “has placed a formal candidacy.” He sighed again, rubbing his eyes in a tired manner. “You don’t think any of your friends fancy throwing their hats on the ring?”
Twilight paused to think about it for a moment.
Butterscotch was a solid no. Politics were far too confrontational for him, and as a politician, he’d probably end up digging his own grave in a misguided attempt to accommodate for everypony’s demands, no matter how conflicting.
Neither was Rainbow Blitz the pony for the job. He despised politics, finding them boring. And Celestia forbid Rainbow Blitz find himself bored, especially if holding office.
Applejack would probably hold his own, but Twilight knew he didn’t have the patience to deal with all the politics and bureaucracy. And while his honesty and straightforward manner would be nothing short of heaven-sent for the denizens of Ponyville, he’d be utterly miserable.
As if he wasn’t enough already, she noted sadly.
And she refused to even consider how a Phil Pie-ran Ponyville would be.
Which left Elusive.
Hmmm...
“I think Elusive wouldn’t want to miss out on the chance of ruling his very own town,” Twilight said evenly. “And I think he’d be pretty decent at it, too.”
“Elusive… which one is him?”
“White coat, purple mane, has a moustache. Well, had a moustache.”
Shining frowned in thought. “Hey, I think I know who you’re talking about. By any chance, was his moustache replaced by an utterly destroyed upper lip?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“What happened?”
“Somepony turned his moustache into a bunch of maggots.”
Shining almost flinched. “That’s disgusting.”
“The pony who did that was also pretty disgusting,” Twilight couldn’t help but add with distaste, earning a curious look from her big brother, but he didn’t press on.
True, she couldn’t have defeated the Ursa without Trixie’s aid, but that didn’t mean she had to like the mare. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth: Twilight hated her guts in a way she hadn’t ever hated a pony before.
Good thing she left right away, Twilight grouched. Here’s hoping she never comes back.
“You think he’d make a good candidate?”
“Well, he is certainly clever and has a good head for politics and administration. Plus, he is the Bearer of the Element of Generosity, so corruption wouldn’t be a problem.”
“‘Element’ this, ‘Bearer’ that,” Shining Armor shook his head in exasperation. “You say those words as if I’m supposed to know what they mean.”
“Well, you should,” Twilight rebutted him.
Her brother rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t,” he rebuked pointedly.
“And that’s why I’m our parents’ favourite and you’re not.”
“Aaaaand we’re here,” Shining drawled out forcefully, forcing Twilight to drop the topic as they came to a stop by a large three-story building, with a shining bronze placard that read Ponyville’s Library.
“I’m still living at the library?” Twilight raised an eyebrow, doing her best to keep her voice as neutral as possible, even if she felt her insides bubble with delight.
Shining raised his own in defiance. “What, you’re complaining?” He narrowed his eyes. “Who are you and what did you do to my little sister?”
“Of course I’m not complaining!” Twilight beamed. “This is amazing!”
Her big brother snorted a laugh. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”
Twilight’s smile died down a bit after she spent more time looking at her new home, though. On the outside, it didn’t seem like much out of the ordinary, aside from being slightly larger and featuring a small chimney rising out of the third floor. The foundations were made of stone, she noted, unlike the neighbouring houses that were simple wood and thatch.
A part of her missed the Golden Oak Library. As she had lived there for only three weeks before it went up in flames, it hadn’t been much of a home for her, but she had gotten quickly attached to its open interiors and the design that used the hollow tree it once had been to the greatest extent. It was charming, cozy and unique, and unlike any other building in Ponyville.
And while her new house was okay...
“It’s a bit… plain, isn’t it?” Twilight eventually said.
“What, do you prefer your tent?” Shining raised a bemused eyebrow.
“Oh Celestia, no! No no no! Don’t get me wrong, it’s great! It’s just that, well…” Twilight spared a glance towards the rest of the neighbourhood. Most of the other houses were pretty much the same as her new home, if smaller. “It’s a bit, hmm, ‘cookie-cutter’, I guess? You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. It’s not like we can rebuild Golden Oak. But y’know, I think this is as good as it gets.”
“Is it really?” Twilight asked skeptically. Golden Oak was a hollowed out tree. Kinda hard to compete with something like that.
Shining Armor smirked, then played his trump card. “The Princess designed it herself, so you tell me.”
“The Prince—! Get the hell out of my way,” she said robotically, already pushing past him to cross the door into her new home, leaving behind a laughing Shining Armor.
It was as if she had crossed the threshold into another dimension, for her house and library was anything but plain.
It wasn’t anywhere near as large as most of the more ancient and richer Canterlot libraries, but the open space by the centre around which a balconied second floor was built was tall and airy enough to make it look bigger than it was. The wooden bookshelves, with many intricate and beautiful designs carved into the wood, adorned the walls, leaving free the passing of any would-be visitor. Sunlight entered through rows of round stained windows located at the sides, not unlike the ones that lined the halls of the Royal Palace, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling, decorated with a large image of Princess Celestia’s cutie mark.
In the ground floor, in the center, a big round table stood with an empty pedestal by the middle, just begging to be the stand of a bust or ornament of some sort. Several small desks stood near the bookshelves, allowing a pony to sit down and read at their heart’s content without having to leave the library. An open door led to what from Twilight’s position seemed to be a kitchen, and a flight of stairs led both downstairs (most likely to a basement) and upstairs (to the upper levels).
The second floor, a balconied level consisting of mainly bookshelves and comfortable cushions for a more relaxed state of reading, had a small, unassuming door that led to another flight of stairs, at the top of which lay a large bedroom, not much unlike her old one at the Golden Oak Library.
What was very much different, however, was the presence of a large window, stained glass with the design of Twilight’s own cutie mark, that allowed Twilight to oversee anything that happened inside the library from the commodity of her room, yet gave her personal life privacy from prying eyes.
There were three more doors in her bedroom: the first led to a bathroom, the second to another, smaller bedroom, and the last one led upstairs to a small turret, so small that at first she had thought it a chimney, with a very comfortable-looking cushion and a large telescope, ideal for stargazing nights.
“So?” Shining Armor smirked as he caught up to her. Twilight was just staring, wide eyed and amazed.
So?
Twilight took a dry gulp, utterly unsure of what to say.
This was her new home.
“It’s…”
While many things were new and would take some getting used to, there seemed to be some deliberate resemblance to the design of the Golden Oak Library, striking the perfect balance between the novelty of the new home and the familiarity of the old one.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed out. Designed by the Princess, indeed.
“She thought you’d say something like that,” Shining chuckled, then gestured towards the stairs that led down to her basement. “We’ve already moved the books in, but I told them to leave sorting them out to you.”
Twilight placed a hoof in her chest, touched. “Ah, Shiny, how well do you know me.”
“I’d be a pretty shitty big brother if I didn’t,” he ruffled her mane, earning a smile from his little sister. “Well, I think I should get going.”
“Right. Swimming in overdue paperwork.” Twilight said, as she followed him out through the main door.
“Yep,” Shining sighed.
“I could help you out,” she proposed.
Her brother shook his head. “Nah, I’ll live. I have coffee.”
She shrugged simply. “Eh, can’t say I didn’t offer.” After a moment, a light bulb lit in her head. “Hey, do you want to come to my Housewarming Party?”
Shining tilted his head in puzzlement. “You’re throwing a Housewarming Party? You? Twilight Sparkle, antisocial extraordinaire?”
“I retract my invitation,” Twilight’s gaze hardened, but she couldn’t stifle the smile that grew on her face. “Go headbutt a unicorn, brother dearest.” Shining laughed, and Twilight’s eyes softened. “No, but seriously, I am not doing anything.”
“Then…?”
“Phil, however, is absolutely going to.”
“He’s going to throw you your own Housewarming Party?”
“He’s been doing that for the last three days or so nonstop to every single pony in town.” At least he has Blitz helping him out with that, I guess. They’ve really gotten closer after the Ursa attack, she mused.
Shining whistled in admiration. “That’s called dedication. I can’t promise anything, Twily, but I’ll try to stop by. When will it be?”
“I have no idea,” as was often the case when you’re dealing with Philippos Demian Pie. “I’ll have Spike send you a letter.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Shining nodded, then hugged his little sister. “Enjoy your new house.”
“Enjoy your mountains of paperwork,” she shot back cheekily. Shining only shook his head in amusement before turning and leaving.
She took a moment to look around her new neighbourhood. They were barely a couple squares from the new town hall (or town palace, more like) and the main square. Sugarcube Corner, Clover Café and Hayburger were nearby, as well, and the new marketplace was three measly squares beyond that, so Twilight’s new house was extremely well positioned.
She already had some neighbours, too! Just across the road, accompanied by a Royal Guard, were a tan, curly-maned earth pony with a green mint unicorn and awww crap they’re Lyra and Bon Bon.
“Misses Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon, here’s your new house,” he declared.
Bon Bon’s eyes widened.
“Wait, ‘misses’? What do you mean by the plural?” Suddenly, every bit of colour was drained from her face. “Oh no. No no nonononononono, you can’t make me share a house with her again. Please, you can’t do this to me!”
“Wooo, roomies!” Lyra cheered.
The earth pony looked on the verge of tears. “Please, I’m begging you! Don’t you know who I am?! You can’t do this to me!”
The Guard only rolled his eyes, turning tail and walking away, making deaf ears to Bon Bon’s cries of desperation.
“Awww, come on, Bon!” Lyra hugged Bon Bon, a shit-eating grin on her face. “We’re going to have such a great time!”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”
The Housewarming party was to take place the next day’s afternoon.
Of course, it would have been great if somepony had actually notified Twilight about it, so she wouldn’t be frightened out of her skin when Phil came crashing down from the roof.
“SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKER!” Phil screeched as his face was the last thing Twilight saw before being flooded in confetti and streamers.
The rest was just a matter of telling everypony else and getting them into the library.
It was strange to think that this was the first time all six of them were at the same place ever since the aftermath of the Ursa Minor’s ‘attack’. What with the rebuilding efforts and getting their livelihoods back on track, they had been rather short on time to spend socialising.
Fortunately, most of the expenses incurred on by the reactivation of the economy had been paid by the Crown, allowing small businesses such as Elusive’s to get back up and running almost as soon as the buildings were rehabilitated.
The white unicorn had been almost crawling up his disgusting tent’s walls in restlessness, so the instant his Boutique had reopened he began pumping out dresses and coats and all sort of clothing like a one-pony factory, and Ponyvillians were all too happy to restock on all the wardrobe they had lost alongside their houses.
Much as his business had recovered from the Ursa attack, so had Elusive’s upper lip recovered from Trixie’s own. He had yet to grow another moustache, though, and, considering how fond he had been of his old one, Twilight presumed he was still somewhat shaken by the experience, even if he remained as composed and prim as always.
On the other side of the spectrum, however, was the shaggy, unshaven beard that now adorned Applejack’s tired face.
Twilight didn’t know what she was expecting, but if she thought Applejack would take all that had happened to him (and between them) in stride, she was depressingly wrong.
The Applejack sitting on a wheelchair, a knit-by-Granny blanket covering his fragile legs, was a far cry from the stout and ever-dependable Applejack she knew and loved (as a friend). He wasn’t even wearing his trusty stetson. His mane was messy and uncombed, which, combined with the deep bags under his eyes, unshaven beard and generally unkempt look, made him look quite like a depressed hobo.
“It’s not that bad, right?” Twilight tentatively asked the wheelchair-bound stallion as he pushed himself through the door’s threshold, the last of the five to arrive (for obvious reasons) to her new house.
Applejack only stared at Twilight flatly, eyes hollow.
“Kill me.”
Okay, it is that bad, she thought with a flinch. If Applejack’s dead eyes were any indication, he clearly didn’t want to think, never mind talk, about his condition.
“When should you be able to walk again?” Twilight asked before she could stop herself. Holy crap, what is wrong with you, Sparkle?! her brain admonished her.
Perhaps she would have preferred if Applejack had been ticked off by her question. But instead, he just shrugged apathetically, too far gone beyond the point of caring. “Maybe next week? Ah don’t know. Doctors ain’t tellin’ much.”
“Next week? But that’s good, right?” she tried apprehensively.
Applejack leveled her a blank stare. “Walk. Not ‘trot’. Not ‘run’. Not ‘work’. Walk. Couple hours a day at best. Still mostly wheelchair. Nothin’ else.” Applejack sighed bitterly. “If Ah’m goin’ to be a useless pitiful sight, might as well be three meters underground.”
Twilight’s breath hitched, the memory of terrible fears gnawing at her insides being reawakened. “Please don’t say that.”
“Fine. Ah won’t, if it makes ya feel better,” Applejack rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t make it any less true, though,” he muttered as he rolled his wheelchair towards the library’s central table upon which Phil had set up numerous assorted pastries, loud enough for Twilight to hear it.
Twilight stood there, rooted to the spot, feeling as if she had been slapped. For the briefest moment, she couldn’t breathe.
It was one thing to see Applejack’s body broken.
It was a completely different beast to see his soul broken, too.
And truly, she couldn’t say which one was worse.
Fortunately, the doorbell’s shrill ring took her out of it, forcing Twilight to plaster a fake smile as she walked towards the door, slightly perplexed. All of her friends had already arrived, after all.
"I've got it," Spike beat her to it, opening the door.
Twilight's smile became genuine as she saw her elder brother standing on the library’s threshold.
“Shiny! You made it!” Twilight beamed, pushing her concerns to a corner of her mind where they could not spoil the moment.
“Of course I did. Hey, everypony,” Shining entered, waving at the gathered ponies, then turned towards the baby dragon, who was closing the door behind him like the glorified butler he was. “Hey Spike. Haven’t seen you since I got here.”
“Probably because you've been busy as hell,” the baby dragon teased with a sardonic smirk.
“Understatement of the century. Which reminds me! Here you go,” Shining pulled out a small package from his saddlebag. “Cadence sent it through the mail earlier today.”
Spike’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”
“Yep.”
“Awesome!” the baby dragon pounced on the package like a predator on its prey, excitedly and impatiently tearing it apart. Spike’s jaw fell to the floor as he saw the white-and-gold shirt’s unusual design. “It’s a dragon fit!”
“Yeah, it’s custom made!” Shining smiled at his littlest sorta-brother as he excitedly put the shirt on. “I had to pull some strings here and there to get it, because, well, they don’t usually make hoofball shirts for dragons.”
“Racists,” Spike muttered under his breath, but his delight was palpable, turning around, trying to look at his new shirt from every possible angle.
He looked up at Elusive, and excitedly shot him two thumbs up. The white unicorn nodded appreciatively, while Rainbow Blitz rolled his eyes and mumbled some obscenities about a rigged match, a corrupt referee and his sex-working mother.
“I made sure to cast it a few enchantments so you can’t rip it or burn it down, too,” therefore preventing the shirt from running the same fate that had befallen most of Spike’s previous Real Mabrida memorabilia.
“Holy crap, Shining, this is amazing!” Spike looked up at Shining Armor, stars in his eyes. “Thank you so much!”
“Heh, don’t sweat it, Spike. Besides, I owed you your birthday gift, so I killed two birds with one stone.”
Nopony noticed how Butterscotch scowled at the manner of speech.
“Hey, Shiny?” Twilight frowned as she remembered something. “Weren’t you, ehm, ‘swimming in mountains of overdue paperwork’?”
“Oh, still am,” the Captain chuckled, with the barest hint of anxiety to his voice. “I swear, not even Spike would be able to sort through this mess.”
Spike stopped fawning over his new shirt to look at Shining with horror. “Shit, that bad?”
“Worse. Way worse,” Shining sighed deeply. “I actually think I might have opened a portal to an eldritch dimension or something like that with all that paperwork.”
“Surely you’re exaggerating…” Butterscotch said tentatively.
“I feel my skin crawl every time I’m in that room.”
“Hmm, that does sound like our own experiences with eldritch abominations,” Elusive mused.
“Stormy is—” Butterscotch began airedly, then paused and shook his head.
Shining Armor looked from one stallion to the other, confused. “Uhhh, what?”
“Then how come you’re here?” Twilight asked a little forcefully in an attempt to rerail the conversation and spare her brother’s brain from being obliterated, a truly terrible fate that she had no desire in trying to explain to her mother. “If you’re so busy, I mean…”
“Oh, I got the Chief Royal Engineer covering for me,” Shining Armor grimaced. “As if I needed to give her any more reasons to strangle me in my sleep. She despises doing paperwork.”
“How did you get her to do your job?” Rainbow Blitz tilted his head, hooves crossed and an unholy amount of interest in his voice.
Shining smirked. “The chains of command are a bitch, especially when you’re not on top.” Blitz nodded, and shared a mischievous look with Phil that made Twilight’s stomach sink in dread. Shining nodded towards them as he took a seat by the table. “I believe we aren’t acquainted. My name’s Shining Armor, Captain of the Royal Guard, and I’m Twily’s and Spike’s big brother.”
“Who was the dragon? Your mum or your dad?” Phil questioned, brow furrowed deep in thought.
Shining blinked.
“What?”
“Don’t min’ him,” Applejack shook his head. “He’s on his own wavelength; half the things he says make no sense.”
“Yep!” Phil nodded, suddenly filled with enthusiasm. The way he seemed to jump between moods rather reminded Shining of a mental illness. “And the other half makes way too much sense for your feeble mortal brains to understand!”
“... Right,” Shining replied flatly. “If I recall correctly, you’re Phil Pie, right?”
“At least that’s who I’m pretending to be right now!”
The unicorn pursed his lips, clearly unhappy (and perplexed) with the answer, but for his sanity’s sake, he moved on. He had always been a quick learner.
“I do know you, so there's no need for introductions,” Shining skipped Applejack, turning towards the butter pegasus.
Applejack’s countenance darkened. “Of course ya do…” he muttered glumly.
Butterscotch took an instant in realising Shining Armor was looking at him expectantly. Taken by surprise, he jumped slightly on his seat. “Oh! Uhm. I’m Butterscotch. I take care of Ponyville’s animals and wildlife, and, uhmm... My favourite colour is green, and... Err...”
“Dude, chill, you don’t have to tell him your entire life,” Blitz chuckled. “This isn’t a new-to-school introduction type of thing.”
“Indeed.” Shining nodded, then tilted his head, eyes narrowed. Finding himself in the Captain’s crosshairs, Butterscotch gulped. “You’re from the Nordic Herd, aren’t you?”
“Uhm. Yes?”
“Right. I thought I recognised the accent. Selerish?”
“Norhestian, actually,” Butterscotch corrected. “Hovslo.”
“Butterscotch isn’t a Nordic name,” Shining pointed out with kind curiosity, to which the pegasus nodded faintly.
“Oh, no. My mum used to call me that, so I adopted that name when we moved south.”
“Wait, what?” Applejack asked curiously. “Yer name ain’t Butterscotch?”
“Oh, of course!” Twilight’s eyes lightened in understanding.
“‘Of course’ what?” The orange stallion shot her a brief glance before forcefully looking elsewhere.
“The Nordic Herd still holds onto the Old Ways!”
“Right,” Applejack nodded in understanding.
Five seconds later, he frowned. “Yeah, okay, no, Ah don’t know what that’s supposed to mean and Ah don’t rightly see why the hay should Ah.”
“Oh, right,” Twilight smiled abashedly. “You see, the Equestrian norm – that is, the one our names follow – is only used in the central regions,” she explained, assuming what Spike had dubbed her ‘Professor Sparkle’ persona, insides giddy as always at being able to explain something to the uncultured swines that she called ‘friends’. “The more peripheral regions, such as the north, Trottingham or the southern peninsulas, have their own naming conventions. That’s why it was such a scandal when the late King Eóward II named his daughter Oathkeeper.”
“There was a scandal about that?" Applejack seemed annoyed by the idea.
“Yes,” Elusive nodded knowingly. Of course he would know about royal scandals. “The name ‘Oathkeeper’ was too ‘foreign’ for the Trottish nobility’s taste."
Blitz blinked. “That’s dumb.”
“No one’s discussing that,” Elusive agreed. “But that’s high politics for you.”
“An enlightening discussion, for sure,” Spike’s acid snark cut through. For a moment, Twilight had forgotten he was there, still wearing his Real Mabrida shirt with pride and leaning on the table. “But what does this have to do with Butterscotch?”
“Oh,” the aforementioned pegasus fidgeted nervously. “Well… You see, uhmm… My name isn’t really Butterscotch.”
Everypony saw it coming, so there weren’t any over-the-top reactions at the ‘sudden’ revelation.
“Turns out it’s actually Fluttershy!” Phil declared dramatically, bringing down his hooves to the table to emphasise his statement.
Well, there was one, but really, it’s Phil, so it doesn’t count. The next best thing was Blitz shooting a weird look at Butterscotch, but everypony else took it in stride.
“Then what is it?” Spike asked, ignoring Phil like any reasonable person would do.
“Seiervakt,” Butterscotch – Seiervakt? – replied. “I don’t really like it, though. It has a martial meaning, and, uh… well…”
“Wait, you’re telling me that clusterfuck you just said – Sayerbark or something – has a meaning?” Blitz was befuddled, carelessly butchering the pronunciation and earning a deep cringe from the Norhestian.
Twilight nodded, a lit up lightbulb figuratively appearing over her head. “Yeah! It’s derived from Sigrvarðr, right?”
The pegasus tremulously nodded in mild confusion.“I… have no idea?”
But Twilight didn’t pay him any mind, entranced as she was with her own beautifully blinding brilliance. She hadn’t become Princess Celestia’s personal protégé based on her good looks alone! “Well, after all, the name ‘Sigrvarðr’ is composed by the Old Nordic etymological elements ‘sigr’, which means ‘victory’, and ‘varð’, which means ‘guard’.”
Applejack and Blitz shared a confused glance.
Twilight kept speaking. “The current form of these words in modern Norhestian are ‘seier’ and ‘vakt’, which joined together form the name Seiervakt, meaning ‘victory’s guardian’!”
Elusive and Butterscotch looked at Phil, who was noisily devastating the assorted pastries while nopony was paying any attention.
Twilight wasn’t done. “Of course, this follows the naming conventions of the Nordic Herd, and indeed of the Old Pegasi, by giving your offspring not a name that describes them as they are, but instead set a goal for them to achieve over the course of their life!”
Shining Armor blinked tiredly.
Twilight kept talking. “So, if you name your child Æthelstōd – that’s Trottish for ‘noble steed’, by the way – it’s not because he is a noble steed like, say, Rainbow Blitz is a literal rainbow blitz when he’s flying at high speed, but because you wish for him to become a noble steed! Their name is as much of a promise as it is a name!”
Spike yawned.
Seriously, is she going to shut up or what? “In that sense, their customs are rather removed from the Equestrian norm, which has mostly descriptive and/or thematic names. Of course it makes sense for Butterscotch to dislike the name if it has a martial meaning, because it sets him on the road to violence, something which greatly clashes with his own pacifistic, non-violent ideals!” Twilight finally concluded, beaming. I’m so smart I could kiss myself!
Everypony at the table blinked blankly.
“Holy shit you’re a nerd,” Phil stated flatly after a couple of seconds worth of stunned silence.
“Yes. Even I kind of want to give you a wedgie, Twilight,” Butterscotch pursed his lips.
“Wasn’t there, like, a non-egghead way to say that exact same thing?” Blitz snarked
“And miss out on showing off how smart she is?” Spike snorted a laugh. “Do you even know Twilight?”
Twilight’s expression immediately soured, eliciting a laugh from everyone around the table but Applejack, who instead shuffled uncomfortably on his wheelchair.
“So, my dear,” Elusive said after a pause, “should we call you Seiervakt, then?” He, too, mispronounced the Nordic name, though not for lack of trying.
“Oh, no. Please don’t,” Butterscotch shook his head. “Butterscotch is just fine.”
“Then what was the point of this entire conversation?” Spike wondered under his breath, but nopony paid any attention to him.
“Butterscotch, then. Pleased to meet you,” Shining nodded before turning towards Blitz and Elusive. “Anyways, we got sliiiightly distracted here,” he said, gesturing towards Twilight with a fond smirk. “I believe you were about to introduce yourselves?”
“Oh, yeah!” Blitz waved simply. “Rainbow Blitz’s my name, and speed is my game.” It was an introduction as rehearsed as it was cheesy.
Elusive facehoofed. “You mannerless hooligan…” he muttered, before straightening and looking Shining Armor straight into the eye. “My name’s Elusive. It’s a pleasure to meet you personally, Captain Armor.”
“Likewise. Twilight has told me much about you, Elusive.”
Elusive seemed put out by that. “Ah, she did?” he chuckled nervously. Applejack shot him an unreadable glance. “Good things, I hope?”
“Well, she didn’t say bad things, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Shining replied with a teasing edge to his voice. “By any chance, would you happen to be interested in presenting your candidacy for Ponyville’s mayoral office?”
The white unicorn paused for a moment. “I mean, it’s a possibility,” he eventually responded with an even voice. “But I’ve also got my tailor shop, so I’m not sure I’d be able to juggle both responsibilities, or to avoid a conflict of interests; and certainly leaving somepony else in charge isn’t an option, given that this is a one pony busine—”
“I beg you.”
“B-beg your pardon?”
“Look, literally anything is preferable to Mayor Filthy Rich,” Shining Armor pointed out sharply, desperation creeping into his voice. “Hell, I’d even have a rock as mayor instead, but that would be just asking for a power vacuum and rampant corruption.”
His eyes were wide and pleading.
Twilight raised an eyebrow. Damn, what did Filthy Rich do for Shiny to hate him so much?
“Plus, you’re the Element of Generosity,” Applejack interjected curtly, as if that settled the discussion.
Obviously, it didn’t. Elusive looked at the farmstallion askance. “Well, yes, I am, but I don’t see what does that have to do with being a mayor.”
“Ah mean, corruption ain’t yer thing, so conflict of interests mah broken flank, that’s no excuse. Ah like Filthy Rich and all but Ah wouldn’t trust him anywhere near the town’s money. Ya could do a good job as a mayor, Ah know as much.” Despite his sincerely supportive words, there was something about Applejack’s general demeanour that didn’t seem all that enthused at praising Elusive.
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, my dear, but I don’t think it’s as easy as that,” Elusive frowned. “Just because I’m the Bearer of Generosity doesn’t mean I also don’t struggle with temptation from time to time. I’m just as fallible as anypony else. Surely you understand what I’m talking about?”
Applejack blinked. “No,” he said after a beat.
“You’re losing me here,” Shining Armor interrupted, brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you two talking about?”
“Elements of Harmony,” Blitz replied simply.
That didn’t seem to help Shining. “You keep saying that like I’m supposed to know what that means,” he sighed, rubbing his face in exasperation. “Would it kill you guys to just explain it to me?”
Phil shook his head in disappointment.
“In all honesty, Shiny, we’re not exactly experts on the matter,” Twilight intervened with a reluctant admission. She really needed to get her would-be investigation on the road. “All we know is that they’re unique magical artifacts that bind themselves to their wearers.”
“And said wearers happen to be us,” Butterscotch added.
“And we used them to defeat the Night King!” Phil piped in, mouth stuffed in muffins. Rainbow Blitz snickered at the sight, and the pink stallion followed suit, somehow managing to laugh, swallow, and not choke to death at the same time.
“I have no idea why us and not other ponies,” Twilight cut in before Shining could ask that exact same question. “I’ve been wondering about that for a while now, but I’m not sure. Perhaps it was destiny? Or we were just in the right place at the right time?” she shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t really change anythin’, does it?” Applejack leaned back on his chair with a small grimace of pain. “Fate or chance, fact is that we’re the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony.”
“For good or for ill,” Elusive muttered.
“I’d say more good than ill,” Rainbow Blitz gave them a half-smile. “We’re like, halfway through to becoming superheroes!”
Shining Armor stared flatly at him. “Right.”
“We totally are! In fact,” Blitz turned towards Elusive with a wicked grin on his face. The unicorn preemptively grimaced. “Say, Elusive, old boy, how do you feel about making the six of us our very own superhero costumes to wear the next time we save the world?”
Elusive closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Listen, Rainbow Blitz, I hate your idea and everything it stands for, but I can’t deny that as a fashion designer it has a certain... allure that is hard to resist.”
“How so?” Butterscotch asked.
“Well, for me, it’s a brand new concept, leagues away from my comfort zone. I’ve never tried anything like it.”
“Why not?” Blitz asked, feigning innocence.
“Because I hate it with a burning passion.” Elusive tilted his head. “Didn’t you hear me when I said that literally fifteen seconds ago?”
The pegasus ignored Elusive’s jab, instead pouting and making puppy eyes at the white unicorn. “But it’s so cool!”
“And it’s also the fashion equivalent of jumping the shark,” Elusive rubbed his nose in frustration. “We’re talking about spandex and coloured tights! Stuff like that just doesn’t sell.”
Blitz tsked, shaking his head in disapproval. “Tsk, tsk. Always thinking with your purse, you greedy-hooves. So much for generosity.”
The unicorn was indignant. “It’s literally my job! If I don’t sell my designs, then I starve! It’s as simple as that! Generosity and greed have nothing to do with it!” Elusive scoffed.
“But you’re not selling those designs, are you? You’re just making them for us!”
The unicorn rolled his eyes. “I never said I was making them at all, Blitz.”
“It was inferred.”
“Where?!”
“I dunno, somewhere?” Blitz shrugged. “You say a lot of words, so I usually just tune you out.”
“You are an utter ass, Rainbow Blitz.”
“Yes. Yes, I am,” Blitz smirked cockily. “But you know what else I am?”
“Dumb as a brick?”
“A bully? Kind of?”
“The pony with the worst mane in all of Ponyville?”
“Not as fast as you fancy yourself to be?”
“A non-ironical fan of Paletona?”
“Afraid of failure?”
“A weak-ass bitch?”
“A potential alcoholic?”
Phil shook his head. “Oh, no, he already totally is!”
“An actual alcoholic?” Elusive amended his suggestion.
“A small-name big-ego?”
“A griffon-fucker?”
“Completely unable to stay on the air?”
“A smelly buttface?”
“A prick that had the mi—Twilight” – Applejack forcefully corrected himself with a grimace not borne out of his physical pain – “sleep in a dog house underneath his massive mansion?”
“Oh, uh, in his defense, only pegasi can live in cloud houses,” Butterscotch allowed. “It’s not like Twilight had much of an alternative.”
“Fair, but it’s still a dick move.”
“Oh, yes,” the pegasus agreed mildly. “It wasn’t very nice.”
“Bad at sharing the alcohol?”
“A total slacker?”
“An ass?”
“Elusive already said that, Applejack,” Butterscotch pointed out.
“Yeah, but Ah think it’s worth repeatin’.”
“Hey, Twily?” Shining leaned towards his little sister as the guys kept dogpiling on Rainbow Blitz, voice barely over a whisper and with a slight edge to it.
“Hmmm?”
“Is it just me, or your friends are kind of… uhm… jerks?” he asked, and Twilight giggled as she recognised his Overprotective Big Brother voice take over his usual one.
“Yeah, they absolutely are. But you know what?” she smiled broadly. “They’re my jerks.”
Blitz blinked tiredly at the other guys (Spike included), who had finally stopped making snarky suggestions in response to his rhetorical question. Even Butterscotch had piled in on him, although far milder in his jabs than the others.
“Are you guys done?”
“Maybe!” Phil replied in a sing-song voice.
“I think so.”
“Yeah, Ah’ve got nothin’.”
“Yes, I think that’s about it.”
“Seriously dude, Paletona fucking sucks,” Spike muttered.
“Cool. Assholes.” Blitz sighed. “What I wanted to say was, I’m also as close as it gets to a superhero, so I need a kickass outfit.”
Elusive scoffed. “You just won’t let it go, won’t you?”
“Come on! Just think about it, man! Next time danger comes knocking, we come out all six of us looking like total pimps in our matching, easily recognisable outfits! We kick ass while we look good doing it, and then we’re on every newspaper and magazine from Lisbaio to Moskon’! Everypony will be gushing about how awesome we look, our appearance becoming instantly iconic! Kids all across Equestria will be dressing up as us for Nightmare Night! And even if it’s not what you had in mind, you would overnight have left an indelible mark in fashion history! Future girly sissies like you—” “Hey!” “— will study your life and work! Draw inspiration, strive to emulate you!”
Elusive took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” he said, shaking his head slightly.
“So it is working, huh?” Blitz smirked mischievously.
“Only because you’re appealing to Elusive’s latent megalomania and vanity!” Phil piped in, cheerful as always.
“Phil, please be a dear and shut up,” Elusive didn’t even spare a glance towards the pink stallion.
“Okey dokey lokey!”
“So?” The rainbow pegasus leaned deep into the unicorn’s personal space. “Superhero outfits!”
Elusive closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Eventually,” he allowed.
“Eventually?”
“After the Gala, that is,” the unicorn sighed. “If I’m going to be jumping the shark and become the laughing stock of the fashion community, I’d rather have built a reputation beforehoof.”
Butterscotch blinked in confusion.
“A fall-from-grace sells better than a backwater no-pony doing weird stuff,” Elusive explained. “I will not go kindly into the howling dark.”
“That’s mighty dramatic,” Applejack raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Life is mighty dramatic, Applejack dearest.”
“Ah, well, can’t argue with that,” the stallion muttered, shooting a bitter glance towards his legs.
Twilight felt the all-too familiar pang of pain at seeing Applejack so weak and despondent. She sorely missed his easy-going, upbeat, can-do attitude. Only now it was gone did she realise how essential it was for the group’s dynamic, a steadfast rock on which they could all depend. While the guys’ friendly banter managed to cheer him up when he got caught up on it, it was always short-lived, the tiniest flicker of normality dying the moment he remembered his current condition. She tried catching his eye to shoot him a sympathetic smile, but he refused to look anywhere near her.
He’d been doing that for a week.
“Say, Captain Armor…” Elusive began, barely a beat after his previous exchange.
“Just ‘Shining’ would be okay,” Twilight’s brother interjected kindly.
“Right. Err, Shining. Are you attending next year’s Grand Galloping Gala?”
Shining snorted a laugh. “As if I had a choice on the matter. At least Cadence is going to be there, so at least I won’t be bored to death.”
Twilight perked up at that. “Wait, really?” She managed to keep a somewhat neutral yet curious face on the outside, but on the inside she was already cheering and prancing like a little filly. Just knowing her old foalsitter would be there at the Gala made the whole incoming disaster far more bearable.
“Uhh, yeah?” Shining looked at his little sister as if she had grown a second head. “She’s always there?”
“I honestly had no idea,” Twilight pursed her lips abashedly.
“Because you never attend?” Spike snarked with his eyebrow raised. Twilight stared at him unamusedly, but had to concede his point. She had attended the very first Gala she was invited to, but she had done everything in her power to miss out on the next two. She’d had far better things to do, like reading or studying or watching paint dry up.
“I imagine you will be attending in your service uniform?” Elusive asked Shining.
“Perhaps,” the stallion replied laconically, but with an interested look to his face.
“Smelling business, Elusive?” Blitz chuckled.
“Not business, just exposure, my dear.”
“The difference bein’?”
“I wouldn’t dream of selling Shining Armor a suit! What I’m thinking is making him one, free of charge, as a gift for taking such good care of our little town.”
“To attract business,” Applejack replied flatly.
“Says the pony who wanted to sell apples at the Gala,” Rainbow Blitz stage-whispered to Phil. Applejack shot him a nasty look, but decided to ignore his jab.
“You know I’m still here, right?” Shining asked good-naturedly, also deciding that ignoring the stallions’ jabs was the best course of action. “And, uh, money isn’t a problem. I can pay.”
“No, no, I insist!” Elusive’s countenance suddenly brightened, an idea coming to his mind. “In fact, you know what? I’ll be making everypony here their Gala’s outfits! It’s on the house.”
“Wow, Elusive, that’s so suspiciously generous that if you weren’t the Bearer of the Element of Generosity I’d even question your true motives!” Phil noted. “It almost feels as if you’re disingenuously making this offer to bury every accusation we’ve made that you’re actually a greedy greedy pants and win the goodwill of the Captain of the Royal Guard while you’re at it by offering the same work you yourself pointed out you needed to charge for so you could eat!”
Elusive didn’t even blink.
“No suit for you.”
Phil dropped to the floor. “No please, I really want a fancy suit!” he begged desperately, tears and snot and everything.
“But wait,” Butterscotch frowned in confusion, turning to Shining Armor, “do they allow you to wear a custom suit? You’re in the Royal Guard, after all...”
“They do, as long as they don’t deviate too much from our code of dress. So yeah, I can wear a custom outfit for the Gala. In fact, most of the high-ranking officers have some sort of customisation to theirs; I just never quite saw the point,” Shining shrugged good-naturedly. “Now, of course, if you think you’re up for the task...” he told Elusive, a teasing edge to his voice.
Elusive’s eyes narrowed, a smug smirk in his face. “Is that a challenge, Captain?”
“Would that motivate you to do a better job?” Shining shot back, smirking as well.
“My dear, you can challenge me all you want, but the only difference will be in how vindicated I find myself, for I already intend to produce the best service uniform you have ever seen.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Shining nodded, satisfied, and with a sigh, he made to stand up. “Alright, everypony, this has been fun, but I really think I need to get going. I told the Chief Royal Engineer that I was only going to be away for an hour.”
“And you’ve yet to complete the hour,” Elusive noted, glancing at the clock mounted on the wall. “You’ve been here only for forty-something minutes.”
“I’m accounting for the trip back to the command tent.”
“Why?” Butterscotch blinked in confusion.
“You see, every fraction of a second I’m late to relieve the Chief Royal Engineer of the accursed paperwork is another buck she’s going to drive straight into my face, and Cadence won’t be happy if I come back to her completely disfigured.”
“Fair enough,” Spike said, jumping out of his seat. “I’ll get the door.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Shining nodded. He turned and waved. “Bye guys, it was a pleasure!”
“The pleasure was ours, Shining Armor.”
“Take care,” Butterscotch nodded.
“See ya aroun’.”
“Bye bye!”
Blitz wordlessly saluted.
“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot,” Shining said, before turning towards the table once again. His friendly demeanour had all but vanished, eyes cold as ice and voice as sharp as a blade.
The temperature in the room plunged.
“Don’t you dare get any funny ideas,” he warned them, promises of hurt and pain in his words. He didn’t need to say any more, understanding in all the stallions’ eyes.
Elusive frowned. Butterscotch squeaked. Blitz and Phil shared an uncomfortable glance. Applejack, ashen-faced, stared down at his hooves.
Then nary a beat later, he reverted back to his easy-going, friendly smile, as if nothing had happened.
“Bye!”
And he turned around, walked out of the library, and closed the door behind him.
Elusive was the first to speak after a few seconds of silence. “Say, just out of curiosity... This miss ‘Cadence’ is his fillyfriend, right?”
Twilight and Spike replied at the exact same time.
“No, she’s just a friend.”
“Yeah, she totally is.”
They instantly turned to glare at the other. For a brief moment, the air was still in anticipation.
Then they jumped at each other’s throats in the ruthless, no holds-barred way only siblings do.
“Spike, seriously, it stopped being fun seven years ago!”
“For fuck’s sake, come on!”
“They’re just friends!”
“Are you kidding me right now?!”
“Why do you insist on seeing things where there are none?!”
“They’ve been banging since before I was born!”
“Spike!”
“I’m serious! I once walked in on them and I can tell you they were absolutely not wrestling!”
“Get your mind out of the gutter!”
“How can you be a certified genius yet so amazingly dumb at the exact same time?!”
“Grow up!”
“You’re blind!”
“You’re delusional!”
“If only we had popcorn,” Blitz muttered.
Right on cue, Phil pulled out a bucket full of popcorn straight out of his mane.
“Oh, lovely,” Elusive smiled, hoof already grabbing a share.
“Spike, stallions and mares can be friends without being romantically or sexually involved! I mean, just look at the guys and me! There’s nothing going on between us and nothing will be!”
She didn’t notice how Applejack flinched as if bucked in the gut, but Blitz did. His eyes widened, his eyebrows rising high into his hairline, and then took a deep, awkward chug out of his soda, processing the implications of what he had just seen.
“Twilight, I’m not saying guys and girls can’t be just friends,” Spike shot back. “I’m telling you that Shining and Cadence in specific are totally fucking and you’re blind as shit!”
“You know what?” Twilight snapped. “I’m not going to keep having this argument with you. They’re just friends, and that’s final.”
“My ass is final…” Spike grumbled, but knowing it was a futile effort, dropped the subject.
A beat of silence.
“So… superheroes.”
“Rainbow Blitz, so help me Celestia…”