“Erm, Miss Twilight Sparkle Princess?” This was Piña.
“Yes…?” Twilight glanced at Dinky for help. “Pia Colada, was it?”
“Piña,” whispered Dinky back for her sake. “She’s got the n with the funny squiggly thing on it.”
“You mean the diacritic tilde, or virgulilla?”
“Er… if you say so.”
“Gotcha. Yes, Piña Colada?” said Twilight casually, pretending there’d been no correction.
“Yeah!” Piña gawped up at her. “Can… Can you be my fairy godmother?”
The pause ran around the table as every brain fought against their own ears and slowly and gracelessly lost.
Twilight recovered first. “That’s an unusual request.”
“It’s a wish,” said Piña proudly.
“I see. And why would you like me to be your fairy godmother, Piña?”
“Because I always wanted a fairy godmother.”
“Sounds logical enough,” was all Twilight dared say. Next to her, Dinky’s shoulders shook trying not to laugh.
“And then you could grant me wishes with your special magic powers,” continued Piña in a fantasy wonderland of her own.
“Oh? What kind of wishes?”
“I wish, I wish I had a wishing star.”
Another pause whilst six brains asked of their ears, Did she really just say that? Is there something you’re not telling me?
“So,” said Twilight in a summing-up tone, “you wish I was a… fairy godmother so that I could grant you the wish of a wishing star so you could, as it were, wish upon a star?”
“I like wishes.” Piña nodded happily.
Dinky burst out laughing so hard she had to be picked up and patted on the back until she merely tittered.
Meanwhile, Twilight looked very much like she was regretting the current seating arrangements: Piña sat right next to her, because she’d wailed and thrown a tantrum when she hadn’t, and now she kept looking up at Twilight as if she were the biggest, bestest, most hardest-to-find toy in the entire toy store.
Dinky sat on Twilight’s other side as a sort of interpreter between the noble unicorn and the less-than-noble company, who she was starting to believe were gabbling in their own lingo. Absolutely no one could gabble like Piña, though. Sometimes, Dinky wondered if Piña had been born in the wrong universe, and if it would be a kindness to nuke that universe from orbit.
Opposite, Alula stared at Twilight keenly, evidently waiting for her to heroically transform and kick butt there and then. Judging by the way she winced whenever Piña opened her mouth, she had a very specific butt in mind.
“So is it true you beat Nightmare Moon single-hoofedly?” she said in breathless awe.
Twilight blushed again; Dinky felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness towards her.
“No, no, no,” said Twilight, giggling a little. “I wasn’t alone. I had all my new friends there to help me.”
“Like a crimefighting team?” piped up Alula excitedly. “Or like a police squad? An army regiment?”
“No,” said Twilight in weary tones. “Like a group of friends.”
This clearly did not meet with Alula’s approval, but she bounced back anyway. “I wish I could have seen it, though. Was there all the ‘KAPOW!’ and ‘KER-SPLAT!’ and ‘KA-WHAM!’ I’ve heard so much about?”
“You’re suggesting I used ju-jitsu against Nightmare Moon?” said Twilight flatly.
Alula unfroze quickly. “Course not! But how about a magical bomb? Or, or a hyper sonic manna jackhammer spell? Did you hit her with a Pan-Equestrian Giggle-Twister?”
“That’s a card game spell,” Dinky reminded her. “It’s not a real one.”
“And I didn’t use that kind of magic,” said Twilight. “When I stood against Nightmare Moon, I wasn’t fighting in the traditional sense. The struggle was more than the struggle between good and evil. It was as if I was fighting my old self too. The love and fellowship I felt with my friends made me realize how much I’d held myself back over the years, how much I had yet to learn. It wasn’t the magic of a powerful unicorn that saved me. It was the magic of friendship.”
This went in one ear and out the other. Alula rebooted.
“So no Giggle-Twister, then?” she said.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “There was a big magic rainbow that blew her up. Happy?”
“Interesting…” mused Alula, local pegasus. “Tell me more about this ‘magic rainbow’ and where a pony might find it.”
Next to her – and clearly not happy with the seating arrangements either – Apple Bloom growled with frustration. “Didn’t you listen to a word she said? It’s way more important than that.”
“Puh-lease,” muttered Alula. “What’s way more important than magic rainbows that a pegasus can just so happen to use?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Apple Bloom glared at Twilight, fierce with determination. “The whole thing was like a test, wasn’t it?”
“A test?” said Twilight uncertainly.
“Yeah! You all had to show you were worthy of it! Like Applejack showed how honest she was by the way you could trust her so much that you’d jump off a cliff if she told you to, because she’s so honest.”
“That’s not exactly how it went down –”
“And how Applejack came to Twilight’s rescue when Twilight had lost all hope, on account of the Elements being destroyed.”
“There was that, yes, but –”
“And how Applejack helped bring Princess Luna back even though Nightmare Moon’s curse seemed so strong.”
“You don’t think you’re being a little biased about all this, by any chance?” said Twilight in the bored tones of one who knows she’s not being listened to.
“It was all a test,” declared Apple Bloom. “The whole thing was a test. Granny Smith always said everything’s a test in life, ‘cause that’s how you find out what kind of pony you are.”
“More hot chocolate?” Spike appeared beside her, offering a cup. Apple Bloom had emptied three already; the Apple clan would never be accused of having delicate stomachs.
Apple Bloom accepted it. “Thanks, Spike! I was just gettin’ thirsty.”
“Yeah,” muttered Alula coldly. “Showing off your sister must take a lot out of you.”
Beside her, Odd Job shot to her feet. “You want to sit down, Spike?”
Surprised, Spike put the tray down. “Er… supposing someone else wants a drink?”
“I can do it! I’d love to do it!” said Odd Job desperately. “It’s my turn anyway!”
Both she and Spike glanced at Twilight, who shrugged and stood up. “Tell you what: why don’t you both take a break and I’ll get the next round?”
“Marshmallows, please!” cried out Piña.
“Me too!”
“Me three!”
“Double for me, if you’re getting,” said Spike, pinching Twilight’s chair.
“Ooh, triple for me too, please!” squeaked Odd Job, who could hardly believe her luck.
Dinky said nothing.
She just watched as Twilight bustled off, looking strangely pleased with herself. Around her, Apple Bloom and Alula settled in for a nice long argument, Piña beamed vacantly at some fantasy flittering through her ears, and Odd Job and Spike sat uncomfortably, two taskmasters suddenly bereft of anything to do. In the end, they both tried to take the same slice of carrot cake, and then got stuck in a loop making “after you, no after you” gestures at each other.
It should have been the perfect scene. Alula, Apple Bloom, and Piña had been caught standing on each other’s shoulders – Alula making excuses such as how her pegasus wings would flap too loud and give her away – to eavesdrop on Twilight talking. The idea of just going up to say hello to her would never have occurred to them… Well, maybe to Apple Bloom, but she claimed she’d just wandered up to tell them how silly the other two were being, because ‘course she wouldn’t eavesdrop on a neighbour, that wasn’t how Applejack would do it…
Still, Twilight had been surprisingly gracious about it all. And here they were: five friends and their two gracious hosts having a nice talk?
So why didn’t she feel right anymore?
Dinky took a muffin to chew over. Derpy always said sugar was brain food, and Dinky had an ulterior motive in not correcting her on that front. Besides, the tingle between her teeth did keep her sharp and focused.
She decided: it was because the test thing didn’t sound right.
True, it sounded like the right thing for a quest. All those obstacles to make sure the hero was heroic enough for what they’d have to do in the end. And Twilight didn’t seem like the sort to lie, especially not about something that should have earned her lots of praise. If anything, she seemed embarrassed by all the attention.
But it sounded too neat. Too storybook. Too convenient.
Like… Nightmare Moon had been an alicorn. Powerful enough to summon storms and move the sun and the moon around. Yet by the sound of it, her best trick against six hardly subtle heroes had been to make a cliff fall down? Stick a thorn in a manticore? Try cute mind games with the local pegasus?
And they just happened to match the elements needed to make the Elements of Harmony shine?
OK, that could have been destiny. Destiny was supposed to do anything and everything, though Dinky sometimes wondered why, if destiny could do anything and everything, it always ended up doing it in such an oddly specific way. Besides, how was destiny supposed to work? Like a gamemaster, or something? Who was running the game, then?
Her best guesses were Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. They were alicorns too. Perhaps, despite Nightmare Moon’s power, they’d somehow secretly found a way to rig the game for Twilight?
Why, though? All Twilight had done was get some old magic working, by the sound of it.
Old, powerful friendship magic. Magic that had worked. Worked well enough to put Nightmare Moon down, presumably for good.
Dinky felt uneasy. She’d studied a little history, because it was sometimes fun to correct some of the misconceptions her so-called superiors liked to trot out. Apple Bloom alone tended to have a rosy view of early Ponyville, when the Apple clan had clashed with other farmers for territory. But stuff like heroic quests and the villains they had to defeat all tended to be really old-school stuff, so old that they might have been legends or even myths. Nothing like that happened anymore.
Up till now, nothing like that happened anymore.
It occurred to her that, if someone wanted friendship magic back in the game, then that was probably because it would be sorely needed, and soon.
She still felt uneasy when Twilight returned levitating a tray and passing round drinks. Somehow, despite not having asked for one, Dinky got a cup anyway.
“I took the liberty of adding a little magic to these ones,” said Twilight. “It’s a flavour-enhancer. Everything you like about the drink should be boosted.” More nervously, she added, “Please tell me what you think.”
She needn’t have bothered. Sips, slurps, gulps, and the following groans and gasps of pleasure told her she’d struck bullseye on every target.
Only Dinky didn’t drink. Her cup sparkled enticingly, but she wasn’t caring about it much. Instead, she watched Twilight summon another chair to sit down next to her, this time shielded from Piña by the reassuring presence of Spike enjoying being catered to.
Alula raised a cup. “Three cheers for the princess witch lady from Canterlot! Hip hip!”
“That was the best hot chocolate Ah ever tasted,” said Apple Bloom.
“Hip hip!” insisted Alula.
“Almost as good as Applejack’s cider.” Honesty and loyalty wrestled each other on Apple Bloom’s mouth before they settled for: “But still really good!”
“Hooray!” shouted Alula, one to never let anything go.
“Hooray, hooray, hooray!” shouted Piña through sheer excitement. Beside her, Odd Job held up an empty cup hopefully; her mouth curled up warmly in the middle of a brown blob.
Dinky couldn’t resist any longer. Besides, she was getting confused looks from Spike, who must have noticed her expression. He leaned across and whispered, “Something up, Dinky? It’s not too hot, is it?”
“Please, Spike,” said Twilight coldly, “I know how to apply a heat sheet spell. There’s no way her drink can be too hot. The theory is sound.”
“It’s not that,” said Dinky, sliding her cup to one side. “I was just thinking.”
“Boo!” shouted Alula. “Boo! No thinking in front of the princess!”
“I told you,” said Twilight in exasperation, “I’m not a princess!”
“That’s right,” said Apple Bloom, who’d reasoned that a friend of Applejack’s was a friend of hers too. “Twilight’s just like anypony else. There’s no call to go around tellin’ tall stories about her all the time.”
“Oh, so totally not like you do when you talk about Applejack, you mean?” snapped Alula.
“You are the most selfish, immature, baby-like –”
For sanity’s sake, Twilight and Dinky blocked the argument out; everyone else watched it for the entertainment value, distracted for the moment.
“Thinking about what?” said Twilight. “Is something bothering you? Maybe I can help?”
“Well, that’s just it,” said Dinky, trying to see the words ahead and not liking the ones she was hearing. “Are you here to help?”
“Of course I am. If you want me to.”
“No, I mean help help. Like, serious help.”
“Huh?”
Nothing for it. Dinky ploughed on: “Like ‘Nightmare Moon’ level of help?”
Despite the raging argument ruining the mood somewhat, Twilight tried for an ominous silence. Even then, it didn’t last long.
“But Nightmare Moon is gone,” said Twilight, though Dinky recognized the tone. It was a Derpy kind of tone, the one so few adults used: it was the tone of someone who could yet be persuaded by a filly.
“She is gone, yeah,” admitted Dinky. “But what if she’s not the only bad guy? What if there are more of them?”
Half of the conversation stopped. Odd Job and Spike looked up from their drinks. Even Piña looked around to see what the interest was. Only Apple Bloom broke off long enough to cock an ear; Alula just kept arguing to herself, never one to let go.
“That’s a big ‘if’,” said Spike, but uncertainly. Odd Job’s worries crept over her face.
“There’s another bad guy?” whispered Piña.
“You tell whoppers so big, even fishing ponies are calling you –” Alula finally shut up when Apple Bloom elbowed her in the ribs. “What? What’s going on?”
“Dinky says there’s another bad guy coming,” piped up Piña.
Alula shut her own mouth. She seemed paler all of a sudden. Awesome fights sounded fine at a distance, but up close was another matter.
Silence swept over the table.
Dinky saw the calmness in Twilight’s face. Considering the shock and worry elsewhere, she was an oasis of clear sense.
“I have thought about it,” said Twilight. “It’s possible. And it’d make sense of some things I’ve been pondering lately.”
The relieved sigh didn’t escape Dinky’s lips, but it did relax her shoulders.
“But you’re here now,” Dinky said, more for the others’ sakes than for her own; she’d seen the spark in Twilight’s eye. “And you got friendship magic.”
“That’s right!” said Spike, seizing on the fact and breaking the spell. “Even if there was some other bad guy heading our way – and there probably isn’t – so what? Twilight beat Nightmare Moon, and she wasn’t alone. She could beat anything even before she got friendship magic.”
The blush came back to Twilight. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly –”
“Yeah, Spike’s right!” Alula shot to the air, wings buzzing on exhilaration. “Ha! We got a hero on our side now! Let ‘em try anything here! POW! SPLAT!”
Odd Job squirmed in her seat. Apple Bloom watched her for a moment, then glowered all the harder and thumped the table for attention.
“Applejack and Granny Smith and Big Mac all told me they’ve faced all kinds of problems here in Ponyville,” she said, and for once it was easy to see the generations of confidence passing through her strong earth pony form. “They never backed down from anythin’. If there was anythin’ like that comin’ for us, they’d face it together. And with their friends too.” She beamed up at Twilight, a hero-worshipper in the making.
If anything, Twilight’s blush deepened, as though her heart was trying to escape by brute force. “That’s true, and fine as it goes, but –”
She looked down; Piña had tugged on her elbow urgently.
“Yes?” said Twilight flatly.
“Miss Princess Twilight Hero? You won’t let them hurt Sis, will you? You’ll keep us safe, right?”
Stunned by the direction their little teatime had gone, Dinky watched Twilight watch them all in turn. There was worry, and young courage, and uncertainty all around. It was so embarrassing that Dinky wished she hadn’t said anything.
“I’d do my best,” said Twilight weakly under all the stares. “If it happened. If.”
This satisfied the others for now; they all broke out into excited babbling. Spoiling everything. And it was all Dinky’s fault. She knew it. She’d spoiled it.
Dinky sipped at her drink and waited for it all to be over. She didn’t look at Twilight once.