Date: A few days after Dinky's graduation
"You didn't have to come with me, you know..."
Scuffle snorted loudly. "I know, but I'd be crazy not to," he countered, nervously watching the fields roll by outside the train's window. "Your parents are still gonna be super pissed about bringing Dinky to hide out at the farm before, and they're gonna be even more pissed when they find out you're moving in with a stallion. I'm gonna be there, in case things get ugly."
Honeydew sighed. "You really think it might get that bad?" she asked weakly.
Scuffle softly tapped the nick in the back of his fillyfriend's horn. "Your parents don't exactly have the best track record..." he pointed out. "If you were going home under normal circumstances, I think it'd be fine, but considering you almost lost your horn as a foal, and Dinky got an angry mob sic'd on her a month or so ago, I don't think making them angry while you're alone is the best idea..."
At the mention of her past, Honeydew anxiously rubbed at the small slice in her horn. "You're right..." she mumbled, her small frown given more weight by the clouded grey eyes above it. "At least we're just going there so I can move out. If they want, they can have nothing to do with me after that."
"And if that's what it comes to, well... you'll be alright," Scuffle encouraged. "You've got me, and once we move into Ponyville, Dinks and Clarity will be right down the road. So don't worry, yeah? Stick by me, we'll get through this."
Bolstered slightly, Honeydew smiled. "Thanks," she whispered, leaning across the bench and snuggling against his chest.
The usual almost electric jolt of enjoyment shot through Scuffle's body as the filly cozied up against him. Growing up with cold, aloof ponies, Honeydew had always been a bit affection-starved, so was usually quick to hug or cuddle the very few ponies she felt safe around. And after they'd started dating, that affection had only increased, although Scuffle was certain she still hadn't figured out exactly how much he enjoyed it.
With practiced care, Scuffle wrapped his forelegs around the delicate mare, shivering slightly as she purred in approval and nuzzled into his fur. Listening to her slow breathing, he felt he wouldn't have minded if she'd simply stayed like that forever.
The experience was painfully short-lived. The train whistled loudly as it ground to a halt at the station, prompting Honeydew to wiggle free of Scuffle's embrace and sit up. "We're here..." she mumbled, standing and using her carved cane to locate the direction of the aisle. "Let's get going."
Scuffle hopped up, watching his fillyfriend's steps closely and helping her down the stairs and onto the station platform. Out of habit, she triggered her Lifesight spell the moment she was out in the open air, but in the center of the station, Scuffle knew the only thing it allowed her to see was other ponies, which didn't do much for safe navigation. She looked at him sheepishly.
"Um, I'll just follow right behind you," she decided. "You remember the way, right?"
"Yeah, it's not a big town," Scuffle confirmed. "C'mon, it won't take us long."
The couple stepped outside into the early December air, and Honeydew hurriedly bundled up with a wooly scarf. Scuffle led the way through the small village, trying not to react to the stares of all the earth ponies watching the glow of Honeydew's Lifesight spell warily.
Soon, the town center was left behind, and a plain dirt path, bordered by a picket fence, led the way to the pair's destination. Honeydew's Lifesight grid reached the edge of the path, and Scuffle grinned as the young mare clambered over the fence so she could walk in the field on the other side. Her pace quickened, and she moved much more confidently with the aid of the biological information her spell was receiving from the grass.
Soon, the pair of ponies arrived at the top of the hill, and Scuffle looked down at the farm in the valley below. The fields that had been laden with vegetables a little more than a month prior were now almost bare, but the farmhouse and barn remained just as cute and quaint as he remembered. It would've been quite picturesque, if he wasn't aware that two of the most ill-tempered ponies he'd ever met dwelled inside.
"We're there, aren't we?" Honeydew mumbled, unable to see that far with Lifesight.
"Yup," Scuffle said flatly. "Are we gonna try to start this off on their good side, or shouldn't we bother?"
"We're not going to be on their good side regardless," his fillyfriend sighed as she quickly tucked her long mane up into a tight bun. "But I guess we might as well not make it worse than it already is..."
Scuffle heart sank as he watched Honeydew extinguish her magic. The green energy grid faded, and as it did, a part of Honeydew seemed to hide away with it. Her cane, filled with enchantments that would be just as much of a problem, was stowed away in her bag as well. Now well-and-truly blind, she feebly reached out into the air to try to grab hold of Scuffle's withers.
The colt stamped a hoof as he carefully supported her. "This is so stupid!" he barked. "You shouldn't have to handicap yourself just because your parents are so magic-phobic! We're surrounded by life; you'd be able to walk down there just fine on your own, but they'd rather make you act like you can't do a damn thing by yourself."
Honeydew didn't reply. She just held tightly to the colt and gently tilted her head, encouraging him to walk forward.
In somber silence, the pair of unicorns made their way to the little farmhouse's front door. Honeydew raised her hoof to knock, but Scuffle gripped it with his own.
"Listen," he said softly. "If your parents try anything like they did the last time we were here, I'm using magic to defend us. I won't hurt them, but I'm not sticking to their rules if they're gonna be barbarians, especially if you aren't using Lifesight."
Honeydew nodded. "Thanks," she whispered. "Let's get this over with."
She knocked. The sound echoed across the empty field behind them. There were a few hoofsteps, and then the door was pulled roughly open, causing Scuffle to suppress a flinch as the terribly severe countenance of Honeydew's father, Melon Rind, came into view. Immediately, the older stallion's eyes flashed with anger.
"There you are," he grumbled. "I figured your term at school was about over. But you've got one of those unicorns in tow again. Where's that hellspawn you brought last time? Is she lurking in the shadows around here somewhere too?"
"Dinky's not here," Honeydew said flatly, her head slightly bowed. "Can Scuffle and I come in?"
"Depends. Is that colt expecting food or hospitality from us?" Melon Rind asked.
"No sir," Scuffle said quickly. "I'm just accompanying Honeydew on her travels."
"And why does she need accompaniment?" came a second voice as Honeydew's mother, Berry Basket, appeared at the door. "I think Honeydew's perfectly capable of finding her way back to her own home."
"Not... not quite, no," Honeydew admitted sorrowfully, looking roughly in the direction of her mother.
Melon Rind harrumphed. "What, have they filled your head with so much magic nonsense that there's no room for common sense anymore?" he growled.
Berry Basket, much to Scuffle's surprise, wasn't so quick to throw insults. "Hold on a moment," she said, raising a hoof to ask her husband to pause as she looked at her daughter, surprised. "Honeydew... has something happened to your eyes?"
"She can't see," Scuffle said flatly. "I guided her over here because she's gone blind."
Berry Basket flinched, but Melon Rind's expression only grew more furious. "Blind?" he repeated, nostrils flaring as his face curled into a snarl. "Perfect. Wonderful. What did you expect, Honeydew!? You went and fooled around with dangerous spells for all those years, and now you've gone and hurt yourself with them, just like we always said. Now how is a crippled filly supposed to work the fields?"
"Dear," Berry attempted to cut in, anxiously twiddling the strings of her bonnet.
"All these years, we bit our tongues and let you go get that magical education you wanted so badly," the stallion continued, ignoring his wife as he paced around the foyer, shaking a forehoof angrily, "and what do we get in return? A daughter who's gone and made herself a burden for us! How are we supposed to balance running the farm with taking care of an adult daughter with barely more agency than a newborn foal!?"
Honeydew hung her head so low her mane brushed the ground. She mumbled an inaudible reply.
"Well!?" Melon Rind demanded.
"You're not," Scuffle interrupted loudly. "Now can we come in, or what?"
"Don't you dare talk back to me, boy!" the earth pony snapped. "You're lucky I didn't run you off my property the moment I saw you, after the trouble you and those other unicorns caused last time. Why would you need to come in, anyway? You've done your job, and brought Honeydew— or what's left of her, at least— back home, so we can spend our fading years supporting a helpless mare. You've got no more business here. Get out."
"That's not why he's here. That's not why either of us are here."
Scuffle hadn't expected Honeydew to even find her voice, much less to speak before he did. He watched as she carefully placed a forehoof on the step inside the door, causing her father to take two steps back so she didn't collide with him. Almost as soon as she was fully inside, Berry Basket was at her side, guiding her to the kitchen table.
"Melon, let the boy in," the mare said as she pulled out a chair and watched Honeydew carefully feel her way forward in order to sit in it. "It's not worth the argument. Let him say whatever he came here to say and then send him on his way."
Melon Rind snorted angrily, but finally stepped aside. Scuffle slunk toward the far end of the table.
Keep it cool, Scuffle, he reminded himself as he took a seat. Don't give them any sass, that'll just make it worse...
"Now Honeydew," Berry began, visibly agitated. "What happened? How did you end up like... like this?"
"A pointless question," Melon interjected, frowning deeper and adjusting the collar of his starched shirt. "She's been using dangerous magic for years, and it finally blew up in her face. The better question is, if you're not here just to take up our space and resources, why are you and that other unicorn even here?"
Scuffle glanced nervously at Honeydew. The answer to that question, no matter how it was worded or when it was presented, wasn't going to go over well.
"To... get my stuff," Honeydew answered, tucking her forelegs against her chest in a guarded posture. "I'm not living here anymore. I'm moving out."
Melon Rind scowled more deeply than ever. "To where?" he barked. "Some facility for the disabled? I suppose you might as well drag them down, rather than us."
"No," Honeydew mumbled. "Ponyville. I'm moving in with Scuffle."
Berry Basket clapped her hooves over her mouth, rapidly glancing between the three other ponies at the table with pupils like pinpricks. Melon Rind, however, sat stone still, with a perfectly neutral expression on his face.
"Now, I would assume," the grizzled old farmer said through clenched teeth, "that when you say 'moving in', you mean you happen to be living in the same apartment complex or something. Because I know my daughter isn't about to share a living space with a stallion she hasn't even married."
"L-look, I'm not your p-problem anymore, just like you wanted," Honeydew stuttered, looking seriously on edge without her magic letting her know her parents' positions or expressions. "Just let me get my stuff and I'll go away forever and—"
"You!" Melon Rind hollered, ignoring Honeydew as he turned suddenly to Scuffle. "You've got some real nerve, showing up here. I knew you were trouble, just like all the other unicorns!"
Scuffle blinked. "Wha—"
"First that school brainwashes my daughter... twists her mind with whatever sort of witchcraft they teach there and makes her lose sight of how to act like a proper mare her age," the stallion ranted, pounding a hoof on the table, "and then you swoop in to tempt her, to turn her away from her family and her community with whatever sort of immorality you unicorns practice. Seducing her with ill-intent, sugarcoated in that sparkly magic that's got her so captivated!"
"Wait, hang on, I don't have any ill-intent towards Honeydew!" Scuffle insisted, scooting back a few inches until his chair was against the wall to try to put more distance between himself and the enraged stallion across from him. "I really care about her! I've done everything I could to be there for her, for years now!"
"Like horseapples you did!" Melon retorted, slamming the table again, hard enough to cause both his wife and daughter to jump.
"R-really!" Scuffle cried, panicking. "How could you think I'd ever betray her? Especially after she gave her sight to heal my wounds, I'd never—"
"That was your fault too!?" Melon Rind roared, leaping out of his chair and advancing on the colt. "So you're the one who's befouled my daughter, mentally and physically! I'll send you to Tartarus myself if I have to, you devil!"
Scuffle, stunned by the outburst, didn't realize he was about to be physically struck until it was too late to do anything about it. Unable to throw up a shield in time, he winced and shut his eyes.
Clunk!
The sound of an impact echoed through the kitchen, but Scuffle felt no blow. He chanced opening one eye.
The shield spell glimmered in midair, seperating him from his aggressor. A shield that wasn't the typical aqua, but pale green.
"That's enough."
Honeydew was on her hooves. A bright aura circled her horn, powering both the shield impeding her father's aggression, and the Lifesight grid that now shimmered across the kitchen. Berry Basket froze in her seat, staring at the pattern of light crisscrossing her body in absolute terror, as if the tiniest movement would cause it to slice her apart.
Melon Rind wheeled around, looking at his daughter in astonishment.
"You—"
"I said that's enough!" Honeydew repeated, letting her horn glow brighter. "Scuffle has done nothing wrong, and even if he had, you have no right to assault him! Now back off."
Staring at the young mare's horn, Melon Rind slowly backed off. Honeydew let the shield fade, but kept her Lifesight active.
"Honeydew, d-dear, don't... don't hurt your father... p-please..." Berry Basket rasped, quivering as she tried to inch ever so slowly away from the source of the magic.
Honeydew rolled her sightless eyes. "Believe it or not, mother, it's possible to use magic for things other than hurting somepony!" she replied angrily. "I came in here intending to do as you asked; to respect your rules and not use my magic. But if you two are going to attack my coltfriend just for sitting quietly and answering your questions, then what do you expect me to do!? Respect goes two ways, and you didn't respect our boundaries, so why should I respect yours?"
Scuffle looked on in shock. The mare that had crept into the farmhouse with her tail between her legs a few minutes ago was gone. Honeydew typically wanted nothing more than to avoid conflict, and it had been a long time since he'd seen her level temper reach its breaking point, but she clearly no longer intended to resolve the situation diplomatically.
And it seemed to be working out for her, at least for the moment. Behind the outrage, Scuffle could see a flicker of fear in Melon Rind's eyes when faced down with Honeydew's (admittedly completely harmless) spell.
"I don't know why I didn't just do this in the first place," Honeydew continued, glaring at her parents. "What was the point of trying to keep things genial? I came here to grab my belongings and leave for good, and clearly, I should've marched right in and done just that, and not tried to explain myself. You don't want one of those disgusting, monstrous unicorns living here anyway!"
"B-but Honeydew," Berry Basket whimpered, "you know... when we say those things, w-we don't mean you. You're different from those other unicorns."
Honeydew paused. Her expression slowly changed from anger to one of simple comprehension.
"That's the problem," she said, much more softly. "You think I'm different from other unicorns, and that's why you can't understand why I want to associate with them."
Honeydew's parents exchanged a glance, but neither spoke, still watching their daughter uncertainly.
"Do you think I avoid using magic here because I want to?" Honeydew asked. "Do you think I usually just agree and accept what either of you say because we actually share the same opinions? Do you think I wanted to stumble blindly down here, without magic to help guide my way? I don't do those things because I want to, I do them because you demand it of me."
She started to make her way across the room, feeling for nonliving obstacles that her Lifesight would overlook. "Well, I'm leaving for good, so I'm done dealing with those demands," she announced, nodding matter-of-factly. "I'm done putting up with all the emotional abuse. I'm done following all the offensively out-of-date customs you still insist on living by. I'm done standing by while you insult my friends. And most of all, I'm done pretending to be an earth pony for you, especially since it's never even made you treat me any better! I know you've always resented that I wasn't born an earth pony, but I'm a unicorn, and I'm done living a life that stops me from being who I am."
As she reached the doorway leading upstairs to her bedroom, she pulled the bands free from her hair with a flash of magic and threw them on the floor, shaking her long mane free from its bun as she turned and slowly made her way up the stairs.
"Oh, and Scuffle," she called as she disappeared, "if they give you any more trouble while I'm packing, defend yourself. Father won't be able to force his way through your shields."
And she was gone, leaving the other three ponies sitting in the kitchen in total silence. After several stupefying seconds, Berry shakily stood up.
"I should... see if she needs help," she murmured. "It might be... difficult for her to gather up everything if she can't even see."
Nopony had any response for her, so after a moment, she simply turned and softly trotted into the hall. Melon Rind watched as she left the room. After a few more moments of silence, the farmer gently pulled his hat down so the brim obscured his eyes, sank back into his chair, and placed his head in his hooves.
Scuffle waited. The seconds turned into minutes, but the other stallion didn't speak, or move, or acknowledge that he was even still there at all. For a moment, he considered keeping it that way, and just sitting silently until Honeydew returned. But as the panic of conflict finally subsided, curiosity started to get the better of him. He cleared his throat.
"Uh... Mr. Rind?"
No response.
"Mr. Rind, you alright?"
"I've got nothing to say to you, boy," Melon Rind muttered, not lifting his head.
The silence returned, but Scuffle didn't let it last long.
"Why are you even upset?" he asked finally. "Honeydew's right, isn't she? You don't like her. You want her gone, don't you?"
Slowly, Melon Rind's deep grey eyes appeared from behind his forehooves. "She didn't have to be this way," he grumbled. "Sure, she was born a unicorn, but it was her choice to live like one. Her horn wouldn't have been a problem if she would've just behaved like we did. Unicorns can do everything earth ponies can do; she could've lived a rich, full life without magic, but she chose to go against our ways. What else is there to say?"
Scuffle, admittedly, didn't even catch the end of what the older stallion had said. One particular sentence had commanded his full attention.
Did he just say... Unicorns can do everything earth ponies can do?
"Mr. Rind, have you been a farmer all your life?" he asked.
Melon finally sat up, looking across the table at Scuffle with a deep frown. "I have," he admitted. "It's a simple life, with simple pleasures. A unicorn like you wouldn't understand it."
Scuffle ignored the comment. "When you're out in the field, early in the year, and freshly sown seeds are starting to sprout, can you tell how the upcoming growing season is going to be? Can you feel the vitality, the potential, in those plants?"
"Well, yes," Melon replied, with a skeptical raise of an eyebrow. "...Why?"
"And when your fruit crops are growing, you can cultivate them to bring out that potential, can't you?" Scuffle continued instead of answering. "I'm not talking about good farming practices like watering or fertilizing; I mean just that innate way you can bring out the best in what you're growing. That connection to the life around you, a sort of... communication, without any words?"
"Yes, but so what?" Melon Rind barked. "It just comes naturally. Anypony who learns to work the land can do that with a bit of practice.
Scuffle shook his head. "Honeydew can't. Not the way you do, anyway."
"No, Honeydew just won't bother," the older stallion snapped. "Because she's got her head in the clouds, thinking about charms and hexes and all the other unnatural things she can do."
"She can't because she's a unicorn," Scuffle corrected, keeping his tone calm and level. "Mr. Rind, y'know all that stuff I just said about plants? That's an earth pony skill. It's not something all ponies can innately do. Honeydew's not unmotivated in the slightest. But as a filly, she didn't start out with the kinds of abilities you and your wife had since foalhood, because she's not an earth pony."
Melon Rind crossed his forelegs and snorted. "Ok, so what?" he groused. "She doesn't have that part, but anypony, even a unicorn or a pegasus, can learn to work a field. That's just a trade, learned through education and practice. She already knows how to do that much, so why did she need to run off and study magic instead?"
Scuffle looked right into the other pony's eyes. "Because she loves the living things in the world around her as much... or probably even more... than you do, Mr. Rind," he answered.
"Now you're contradicting yourself, boy," Melon growled. "What are you trying to say?"
"I know you've probably never given Honeydew a chance to talk about what she actually studied at school the last five years," Scuffle said. "She's hardly even been here, to be honest. She's spent the time between terms in Ponyville or Whinnychester, with me and her other friends. But as it turns out, the main thing Honeydew's been doing at the academy is studying life magic."
Melon Rind grimaced. "Life... magic? What an irreverent combination," he said, scrunching up his snout as if Scuffle had presented him with something rancid. "Manipulating life with magic... what's she doing? Pursuing immortality? Reanimating the dead? What a disgrace, messing with the cycle of life."
Scuffle couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, you don't have a clue, I see," he answered, ignoring the other pony's angry snort. "That's not what life magic is for. It's for connecting deeply with other living things, tapping right into their heart and feeling what they feel, both physically and mentally, and sending and receiving information through those connections. Honeydew can do a whole lot of things with that field of magic; in fact, she might be one of the best in the world at it now. But the main thing she uses it for is just... to do what you do. To be at one with the life around her, the way you and your wife can. She's not using magic to spit in the face of the natural flow of life, just to tune in with the hearts of all the living things she encounters, so she can learn to help and heal the world around her. All these years, she's shared your simple, down-to-earth view of life, but she got nothing but grief for learning to experience life the way you do... just because the tool she needed to do so happened to be magic."
Melon Rind looked away, staring blankly at the empty kitchen, seemingly lost in thought. Scuffle waited.
"Even if you're telling the truth," he said finally, "it's just not worth the price. I mean, look at her now. She's blinded, cause she used some kind of magic to... what was it? Do something for you, she said. You don't even care that you've crippled her, do you?"
Scuffle had been feeling pretty proud of himself for letting the earth pony's insults go up until then, but that one made him wince. "As a matter of fact, Mr. Rind, I'm devastated that that happened to her," he said angrily. "A lot more upset about it than she is, actually. I know your opinion of me is lower than dirt, but no matter what you think of me, you better not insinuate that I don't care about Honeydew."
"Really?" Melon Rind asked gruffly. "Seems like you're no more than just another magic-loving bad-influence, leading her to do reckless, dangerous things."
Scuffle grit his teeth, but managed not to light his horn; he didn't want another altercation like the one a few minutes earlier. "Fine, you wanna know what happened?" he shouted. "We were attacked. I'm sure you head about the recent siege of Canterlot. We were there. That monster that captured the city came after us. She tried to kill Honeydew: tried to run a razor sharp spire of crystal right through her."
The earth pony did not look convinced. "I can't help but notice she doesn't seem to have any grievous wounds," he pointed out, glaring.
Scuffle sat back in his chair, displaying the dark scar on his undercarriage. "Yeah. That's 'cause I pushed her out of the way and took the hit. If I hadn't done what I did, Honeydew wouldn't have come home at all, so I really don't appreciate you saying she means nothing to me."
Melon Rind scoffed. "Can't have been that serious if you're here talking to me," he countered.
"Oh, it was a mortal wound, for sure," Scuffle argued. "But Honeydew was having none of that. So she took that powerful life magic of hers and tried to heal me. In fact, she was so desperate to keep me alive that when she ran out of juice in her horn, she pulled energy out of her body to convert to extra magic. She saved me, but only by using magic way above and beyond what a unicorn ever normally would, and endured terrible pain to make it happen. That's how she lost her sight."
"So it was a magical mishap, then," Melon Rind said, with a hint of self-satisfaction.
Scuffle pounded the table with a hoof. "Are you even listening!?" he snapped. "I literally was ready to lay down my life for Honeydew, and then she turned it around and knowingly damaged herself to save mine. Whether or not magic was involved is irrelevant; you're only seeing Honeydew today... or ever again, for that matter... because of what happened that night! And if you're willing to downplay that just to argue about some spellcasting, then I guess you're the one who doesn't give a damn about her, not me!"
The stallion opened his mouth to reply, but didn't speak. After a moment, he closed it again, looking more befuddled than actually mad. "I... I do care..." he mumbled, staring at the empty table. "It's just—"
"—You hate magic. You think it's unnatural and you're scared of it. I get that," Scuffle said softly. "But Honeydew needs that magic to be who she is, especially now. She's developed something called Lifesight, that lets her 'see' living things in her mind with a spell. It's almost like she isn't blind at all, at least when she's outdoors. Now, if that means she can't live here, or be around you or her mom, that's fine! She's ok with that. That's why she's moving out now. But if you do actually care at all about what happens to her... don't you think you should let her go to a place where she can use her magic to live a happy, mostly-normal life?"
Melon Rind frowned, though less deeply than usual. "With you?" he asked. "Even if she's got her... Lifesight thing, that's not going to help her everywhere. It's gonna take a lot of work to get her to the point where she can do most of her normal daily activities again. And she'll probably always need help with some things. Are you about to tell me you've got a plan all perfectly laid out to compensate for all her difficulties?"
"Well, not all at once, no," Scuffle admitted. "I don't see how anypony could. It's new territory, and it comes with new challenges. But she'd be with a partner that understands her limitations and how her magic can lessen them, and is totally dedicated to her safety and happiness. And if there's something me and her can't tackle ourselves, we have more friends living just down the road."
Honeydew's father didn't reply. Realizing he might be making some headway, Scuffle pressed on.
"Mr. Rind... Honeydew may not be an earth pony, and may not share some of your values, but she is your daughter," he pointed out. "Her mind's already made up, of course, but if you actually want what's best for her, as a pony, unicorn or not... maybe you should support her on this one."
Melon Rind heaved a long sigh. "It's just... hard for me to believe that this will be as ideal as you say it is," he confessed.
An idea suddenly struck Scuffle. His eyes widened.
"Then come with me to Ponyville for a day."
Melon Rind raised an eyebrow.
"If you stay clear of Honeydew, she won't know you're there," Scuffle explained. "Her Lifesight only extends as far as that green grid of hers. Come and watch— from afar— and see what kind of life Honeydew is able to have when she isn't here. Then you can draw your own conclusions about her decision."
Melon Rind glanced toward the stairs, where the sounds of rummaging up above indicated his wife and daughter were nearly done packing the latter's things. "...Fine," he said finally, standing up and smoothing his shirt with a hoof. "After you two head to the train station, I'll let Berry know what's going on, and follow behind a few minutes later. You better hope you can prove what you've said, boy."
"You'll see when we get there, Mr. Rind," Scuffle assured him. "Just follow along... and leave the rest to me and Honeydew."
It was after sunset. As soon as the train pulled away from the station, Honeydew groaned and leaned against Scuffle with a frustrated sigh. "Well, that went every bit as poorly as I was worried it would," she lamented. "Sorry for making such a scene. I just got so mad when father tried to hit you, I couldn't help myself."
Scuffle gave his fillyfriend's mane a gentle stroke. "No harm done, Dewey," he comforted. "Besides, everything's gonna get better from here. All your stuff's in the baggage car, and by morning, we'll be in Ponyville. It'll be almost like when we were at school; I'll be around all the time, and you'll be able to see Dinks and Clarity whenever you want."
Honeydew smiled slightly at the thought. "I really did love spending Midsummer Holiday or our winter break in Ponyville," she admitted, shifting as she did so to find a comfier position to relax against the colt. "Hopefully, once we get everything unpacked, it'll be easy to settle in."
"Well, you remember the plan?" Scuffle asked. "First thing in the morning, I'll take all our stuff to our new place and move everything in, and you'll go into town and pick up some food, and all the additional bits and bobs we'll need for our own place that we didn't need for dorm life at Celestia's Academy. Y'know, kitchenware, bedding, whatever supplies you can think of, really. You gonna be alright getting around town by yourself?"
"Should be!" Honeydew chirped. "Ponyville's got enough patches of greenery around town that I should be able to avoid any big obstacles with Lifesight, and I'll use my magic cane too. It'll probably take me longer to get through the errands than it would've when I could see, but I'll get it done."
"Great," Scuffle replied. "Let's try and put today's drama behind us then, alright? Tomorrow's gonna be better."
Honeydew sat up and nodded. "It doesn't look like my parents will ever understand or approve of my life," she sighed. "There's nothing to do now but... forget about them and move on."
Silently, Scuffle peeked over the back of the seat, spying the wide straw hat poking up from over the top of an open newspaper in the very back row of the train car. After a moment, he turned back around, placing his foreleg around Honeydew's shoulders.
"I guess... we'll see."
With nothing else to say on the matter, the unicorn pair settled in for some rest as the train cut through the dark countryside.
The next morning was bright and clear in Ponyville. A perfect day to welcome two new residents.
"Alright Dewey, I've got everything we brought along in the cart," Scuffle said, tapping the side of the hefty wooden cart he'd rented with a forehoof. "The delivery ponies should be getting to our new place with my stuff from Fillydelphia, plus all the furniture we ordered, so I'm gonna go meet them there and get started. Once you're done shopping, wait for me at that cute coffee shop we went to a whole bunch when we were here last winter."
"Two streets down from the road to Dinky's cottage?" Honeydew asked.
"That's the one," Scuffle confirmed. "Are you gonna be able to find it okay?"
Honeydew nodded happily. "I remember there was a really nice magnolia tree outside of it," she pointed out. "I'll know it the instant it's in range of my Lifesight."
The colt raised his eyebrows. "You were only here on vacation and you already know places by their local foliage," he chuckled. "You're something else, Dewey. No wonder Professor Chestnut was always raving about you."
Honeydew blushed. "S-shush," she giggled.
Scuffle leaned over and nuzzled his fillyfriend, earning an appreciative little squeak from her as she quickly returned the gesture. "I'll let you get to it then," he said. "Seeya later."
He watched for a few moments as Honeydew trotted off. Just as she disappeared around the next corner, he felt an imposing presence behind him. He didn't need to turn around to tell who it was.
"Morning, Mr. Rind."
Melon grumbled out a greeting. "So, what's this plan of yours, boy?" he asked, tugging on his hat to block the morning sun.
"Plan?" Scuffle asked. "It's hardly a plan. We're just gonna follow Honeydew from a distance for a bit. All you gotta do is make sure you don't get close enough to be inside that grid of light that extends out from her horn."
"Avoid the magic," Melon Rind summarized. "Don't worry. I'd be doing that anyway."
Scuffle suppressed a snide remark. "Come on, let's catch up to her."
It didn't take long to do just that. Even when she could see, Honeydew wasn't the type to rush about if she didn't have to, preferring to take in everything around her at her own pace. From a distance, the pair of stallions watched her amble down the street, with a grid of soft green light moving with her. Her carved cane, held in front of her with a bit of levitation magic, slowly swung left and right at an even rhythm, helping her keep clear of obstacles. When it came to other ponies, though, she never came close to a collision. The moment any passerby had a single hoof inside the grid's borders, she was already swerving to give them plenty of space. Occasionally, she'd start to drift toward the roadside, but each time she did, her Lifesight would fall upon a lawn or a flowerbed, and she'd use its position to reorient.
"See that?" Scuffle asked quietly. "You saw her when she was at the farm, reaching out in front of her groping in the darkness to try to stumble her way around without hurting herself. Does this look like that to you?"
His companion didn't respond, but he kept his eyes on Honeydew as she reached the end of the street and trotted out into Ponyville's open-air marketplace.
Standing in the middle of the square, the young mare pulled a small shopping list from her bags and cast a brief spell on it. Although it was impossible to tell what effect it had from that distance, it quickly became clear when she slowly slid her hoof over the paper's surface several times, furrowing her brow.
"What's she doing?" Melon Rind questioned.
"Ah, that'd be the braille enchantment one of her professors taught her," Scuffle explained, smiling as he watched her. "She's still really slow at reading it, but hey, she's only been blind for a couple weeks. Even so, being able to turn written text into braille is gonna help her a ton."
"I... see."
He left it at that. Scuffle suspected it was because he couldn't drum up anything negative to say on the topic.
For several minutes, the two stallions watched in silence. Honeydew meandered from stall to stall, chatting merrily with shopkeepers and occasionally passing a few bits to them as she picked up items on her list. Scuffle couldn't hear any conversations from such a distance, but her bright smiles and cheerful body language got the point across.
"Hmph," Melon grumbled, narrowing his eyes. "Honeydew used to help her mother with the shopping all the time when she was a foal. Every week it was the same thing; shuffling around with her head down, placing a bit or two on the counter and slinking off with whatever item was closest. She'd hardly say a word. Why'd she spend years making us look bad if she's capable of conducting herself like this?"
"You gotta be kidding me..." Scuffle said under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Honeydew went shopping. In your town," Scuffle pointed out, trying to fathom how the pony beside him was actually this clueless. "You know, the town full of earth ponies who hate unicorns. If she wanted to make even a single purchase, first she'd have to endure a glare and a hoofful of disparaging comments. And she was expected to just take it; Celestia forbid somepony with a horn on their head be treated like any other shopper."
"Alright, alright," Melon Rind snapped, turning away. "You've made your point, boy."
"Honeydew was seriously antisocial when I met her," Scuffle admitted. "That academy you hate so much is where she learned not to be scared of everypony around her."
Having gathered a bag full of fresh produce, Honeydew ventured on ahead, and the two stallions followed again from afar. Soon, she led them to another part of downtown Ponyville, where pawn shops and specialty stores lined the streets. She slowed to a stop, looking uncertain. She took a small step in one direction, then another, but ultimately remained standing in the road.
"Aha," Melon Rind said, with a hint of smugness in his voice. "There won't be much to guide her in those shops. Now how's she supposed to manage?"
Honeydew calmly held her cane upright, so the little wooden adornment shaped like a bird faced skyward. She tapped it with a hoof once, twice, three times, and with a squawk and a puff of feathers, a tiny green bird popped into existence.
"That's what Cornelius is for," Scuffle said simply.
Honeydew spoke softly to her summoned friend. His reply was loud and shrill enough that Scuffle could hear it even from a distance. "Stuff for the kitchen, eh?" he crowed, scanning the surrounding buildings as he flapped up and perched himself on the mare's notched horn. "Two more doors down and on your left, kid."
Honeydew and her little passenger disappeared into the shop. Scuffle turned to Melon Rind, who simply stared, bewildered, at the spot his daughter had been a moment before.
"So... do you see what I'm saying here, Mr. Rind?" he asked hesitantly. "Honeydew's hardly even disabled when she has access to all the tools available to her."
"Well, she's... she's not quite the same pony I've seen at the farm all these years..." Melon Rind mumbled. "She's always seemed frail, withdrawn, and disinterested, so I thought..."
He trailed off. Scuffle raised an eyebrow.
"...Yes?" he prompted.
"...Haven't you tarried a bit too long with this little field trip?" the older stallion asked, abruptly changing the subject. "I seem to recall you're expecting a delivery at your new address soon."
Scuffle glanced at the clock tower near the town square. "Shoot, you're right!" he realized. "I gotta go!"
"I'm coming too," Melon announced. "I suppose I'd better at least see what sort of place Honeydew's planning to call home now."
"Better keep up, then," Scuffle responded, knowing he had no time to argue as he broke into a brisk trot. "It's this way. Now let's go!"
Scuffle skidded to a halt at his destination. Melon Rind, despite being several decades older, had no trouble keeping pace, which wasn't too surprising, given the years and years of manual labor he had under his belt.
In front of them was a very typical looking Ponyville home, with tan walls with a neat brown trim under a thatched roof. Several arched windows appeared to let in plenty of light, and there was a small balcony, just big enough to hold two or three ponies, on the upper level.
"So how'd you manage to get this place?" Melon Rind asked suspiciously. "I somehow doubt a few jobs between terms would've made you enough for a down payment."
"Well uh, me and my friends did kinda save Canterlot a few weeks ago," Scuffle reminded him. "Princess Celestia asked each of us if there was anything she could do to repay us. Me and Honeydew cashed in our favors on a new home."
A large shadow fell over both ponies, and Scuffle looked up to see a bulky, airborne shipping container, pulled along by two pegasi, slowly descending toward the front lawn. He stepped out of the way as it touched down.
"Are you Scuffle?" asked a yellow and teal mare as she approached with a clipboard, while her partner started unloading the furniture onto the roadside.
"That's me," Scuffle replied. "Right on time, too. We just arrived."
"We do our best!" the chipper pegasus replied, as Scuffle signed for his delivery. "And hey, I think I know you. You're one of Dinky Doo's friends, right?"
Scuffle grinned. "Yup, me and Dinks are pals," he confirmed. Melon Rind scowled at the mention of Dinky, but luckily the pegasus didn't seem to notice.
"Great!" she exclaimed. "Tell her to let her mom know Raindrops says hello!"
"I'll do that," Scuffle promised, passing the clipboard back to her. "I paid in advance, so, we good?"
"Yep, you're all set," Raindrops announced, as the other pegasus hauled the last of the items out of the shipping container. "Thanks for choosing Cloudsdale Mail and Freight!"
They took off again, leaving Scuffle with only his surly companion. Not waiting for an invitation, Melon pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The interior was as standard as the outside. A hall from the foyer led to a roomy parlor, with a wide doorway leading to an open kitchen and dining area. Nearby, the stairs led up to a smaller second story, with a few bedrooms, bathroom, large closet, as well as a glass door leading to the balcony.
There was one detail that set the house apart from those surrounding it though: railings at about flank height were installed on almost every wall.
"I came by for a couple hours the day after we graduated and installed rails while Honeydew stayed with Dinks and Clarity in Canterlot," Scuffle said proudly. "Those should make it easier for her to get around, once she learns the layout of the place, huh?"
Melon Rind slowly made a lap around the ground floor, examining the empty rooms and the mobility aids Scuffle had installed. "How... uninspired," he said finally.
Scuffle cocked his head. "Un... inspired?" he repeated. "They're hoofrails. How 'inspired' can they possibly be?"
Without answering, the older stallion turned and made for the front door. "You might as well unpack," he grumbled. "I'm sure it'll take you no time at all, floating couches and tables around and such. I'll be back in a half-hour."
And with a rather forceful slam of the door, he was gone, leaving Scuffle standing bewildered in the empty foyer.
"Steady... steady..."
With a wide-reaching levitation spell, Scuffle slowly lowered his mattress onto the bed frame in what was to be his new room. He smiled in satisfaction as it touched down neatly in place.
"Alright, that's all the big stuff, I think," he said to himself as he trotted out into the hall. "Now I have to start unpacking the boxes of—"
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Scuffle practically jumped out of his skin as the sound of a hammer echoed through the house. He galloped downstairs, horn aglow, to see what was going on. Skidding around the corner into the foyer, he came face to face with Honeydew's father and a large pallet full of boards. The stallion was building something into the wall, just below the railings meant for Honeydew.
"Mr. Rind, what... what're you doing?" he asked.
"Building," the other stallion grunted.
Scuffle flattened his ears against his head. "I... can see that. Building what?"
"A better guidance system for Honeydew."
Scuffle winced as Melon Rind placed another nail and hammered the next board into place, creating a hollow, box-shaped space between the railing and the wall a few inches behind it. "I don't... I don't follow," he said finally.
Melon Rind's gaze seemed to pierce through him. "Aren't you academy unicorns supposed to be geniuses or something?" he griped. "All day long, you've been like a broken record, reminding me over and over that magic is apparently the key to all Honeydew's problems. And then you bring me here and all you've got for her to use to get around is some damned wall railings?"
"...What does any of that have to do with you vandalizing my wall?" Scuffle asked finally.
The stallion sighed, exasperated, and jerked a hoof at the wooden box just beneath the rail, as if Scuffle couldn't see it. "We build a box," he explained. "Leakproof it; maybe you can save some money and do that magically, knowing you. Fill it with soil. Repot some flowers and other small vegetation. I bought dozens, they're out front. Repeat around the rest of the house. Honeydew sees the plants with her... you know... grid-thing. And then she can walk around the home as if she can see perfectly, unless I'm grossly misunderstanding how that life magic you were raving about so much actually works."
Scuffle, dumbfounded, took several moments to process the idea. Too long, apparently, since Melon Rind turned away and began hammering in the next board.
"You... you did get what I've been saying then!" he realized, breaking into a wide smile. "You're really on board with giving Honeydew the means to improve her quality of life with magic?"
Melon Rind glared at him. "You're supposed to go retrieve Honeydew in just a couple hours," he pointed out. "We have a lot of house to cover. Are you going to help me or not?"
"O-of course!" Scuffle said quickly. "Even working together, we're not gonna get it done in time working with hooves alone, though. You think you could put up with it if I use my magic? Just to pick stuff up and move it around. Nothing else, I swear."
"...Fine," Melon Rind agreed. "No funny business, boy."
"I won't," Scuffle promised, as he levitated the next board into place next to the ones Melon had already finished. "This is actually an amazing idea, Mr. Rind. Honeydew's gonna love it. And that's what we both want, right?"
Melon Rind stared at the board, wreathed in magic, for a few seconds, and then gingerly placed a hoof on it, apparently expecting to be burned by the aura or something. When nothing of the sort happened, he put the next nail in place and began to hammer it in. "Less talk, more placing the boards, boy," he said flatly. "We've got a lot of work to do."
The dangling bell jingled as Scuffle pushed open the door to the coffee shop. It was easy enough to spot Honeydew, seated in the corner and sipping on a white chocolate latte topped with a generous scoop of whipped cream, slowly running her hoof over lines of braille in the book in front of her. Grinning, he trotted over and slid into the booth next to her.
"Heya, Dewey."
Honeydew's Lifesight flared to life and she turned to the pony beside her with a sweet smile. "Hi!" she replied. "Gosh, the afternoon really flew by. I got all the things on the shopping list. Did you do okay with the house?"
"Everything's all set," Scuffle affirmed. "All it's missing now is the mare who's gonna live there with me."
Honeydew giggled softly. She wasted no time cozying up to him when he put a foreleg around her shoulders.
"Ready to go home?" he asked.
Honeydew looked thoughtful. "It's... weird to think about," she said slowly. "All my life, 'going home' has been just about the most negative thing in the world. It was the source of stress, instead of the place I could go to escape it. And obviously that's not how it's supposed to be. It's almost like... I've never really been home. Until today, I guess."
"Well... y'know, the definition of home doesn't have to be that cut and dry," Scuffle mused. "I'd argue that home's the place where you feel most at ease, and you're with the ponies that love you. Like at the academy, with Dinks, Clarity, and me. And now that place is here. It's a new location, sure, but with us around, it'll feel like home in no time at all."
That brought a smile to Honeydew's face. "Alright then," she said with a resolute nod. "Let's go home, Scuffle."
The two unicorns (and a cloud of shopping bags floating in Honeydew's aura) left the coffee shop. It was just a quick trot to the house waiting a few blocks away. It took every bit of Scuffle's willpower to act casual and not hint at the dramatic renovations that had occurred in the last few hours. After a minute or two, the couple arrived at the edge of the property.
"We're here," he told her. "I'll take the bags. You go ahead and check it out."
Honeydew stepped forward, extending her Lifesight across the front lawn curiously, and Scuffle followed her as she took in the details. The cobbled front walk, of course, was something that would appear in her mind's eye as just a stretch of darkness, but it was lined on either side by a border of white and purple petunias, which clearly demarcated the path she needed to take. A large maple tree stood at one side of the yard; it had lost most of its leaves for the year, since it was nearly December, but Scuffle knew it'd be a great shady spot in the summer, and a beautiful display of foliage in autumn.
On the other side of the yard, one large patch of soil was devoid of any plants, including grass. Honeydew stopped, staring at it questioningly, since it would've shown up as a large blank spot in her limited vision.
"Nothing there yet," Scuffle explained. "But I've known you long enough to know you're gonna want a garden when spring comes around, right?"
A smile grew across Honeydew's face. "I hadn't even thought that far ahead, but you're not wrong," she laughed. "Should we go inside now?"
Scuffle nodded. "Lead the way!"
Honeydew followed the flower-lined path to the front step, and then took her cane from her bag. Her coltfriend stepped up beside her and placed a hoof on it.
"I don't think you're gonna be needing that..." he said, giving her a sidelong smirk.
"What do you mean?" Honeydew asked quizzically as she pushed open the front door. "Once we're inside, I'm not going to be able to use my Lifesight to... to..."
Grinning a bit, Scuffle simply stood back and watched as Honeydew stepped further into the house, looking stunned.
The foyer was now lined with planters along every single wall, containing a variety of plant life, some flowering, some leafy, but all small enough to fit in the space made for them. They perfectly mapped out the dimensions of the room, breaking only for doorways. The stairwell nearby had matching vines wrapped in a spiral around bannisters on either side, clearly defining the route upstairs.
At the end of the hall, the now-furnished parlor was similarly decorated, but with even more additions to help with Honeydew's navigation. Not a single piece of furniture was left without some sort of botanical marker for her to detect; each end table sported a potted plant atop it, and there were even hanging baskets dangling from the ceiling directly over the couch to point out its location from above. There wasn't a single obstacle in the room that wasn't marked with a beacon of life so the young mare would be able to see it. Scuffle watched her move through the room, her cane limply at her side, unused.
And it didn't stop there. In the kitchen, trellises had been installed on the outside of cabinets and appliances. Ivy snaked through the wooden lattice, effectively showing Honeydew the shape and position of all the room's amenities. The dining table, of course, had a large centerpiece full of a whole rainbow of flowering plants.
"Wha... what?" Honeydew babbled. "This... this is..."
"It's pretty much the same upstairs, in case you were wondering," Scuffle said casually, as he put a foreleg over her back.
"B-but... how did you..."
"Well, I wasn't alone," Scuffle admitted. "I had a lot of help setting this up from, er... somepony who, y'know... thought they'd be able to help you live a little more comfortably. So uh... what do you think?"
Honeydew turned to him with tears in her cloudy eyes and a look of awe on her face. "This is... amazing," she breathed, swinging her head left and right to move the grid of light across different surfaces. "I-it's all so well planned out! Lifesight is usually great when I'm outside, but now—"
"—Now you can have your own private space, and be able to see your way around," Scuffle finished. "It didn't seem fair that you had to choose one or the other. You deserve at least one place where you can have both."
Honeydew leaned into Scuffle's coat, prompting him to hold her a little tighter. "Th-thank you," she sniffled. "Scuffle, I don't know what to say..."
Scuffle caught a glimpse of movement to his left. He turned his head to look out the kitchen window.
Melon Rind stood in the yard, well beyond the radius of Honeydew's Lifesight. His expression was silently questioning, making sure everything had gone well. Scuffle gave him a discreet nod, and Melon reciprocated with one of his own, before turning to make his way around to the front of the house to head back to the station. As he disappeared from view, the colt turned back to his fillyfriend.
"So, whatcha wanna do now, Dewey?" he asked.
"Let's go over to see Dinky and Clarity!" Honeydew exclaimed, turning and heading immediately for the front door. "I have to tell them all about this!"
"W-wait, right this second?" Scuffle sputtered.
There was no time to act. With the aid of all the plant life guiding her, Honeydew was already in the foyer. Scuffle galloped down the hall to try to catch her.
"Hang on, hang on!"
Too late. Giddily, Honeydew pulled open the door and stepped out onto the front walk. Her Lifesight grid extended forward, shimmering over the front lawn and everything on it... including the grumpy old stallion that hadn't even reached the edge of the yard yet. She stopped so abruptly that she nearly stumbled, her expression changing rapidly to shock and then to outrage.
Melon Rind stiffened. For a moment, there was a tense standoff between the two ponies.
The stallion pursed his lips. "Um, Honeydew—"
"Get out," Honeydew interrupted, her voice suddenly anguished. "I can't do this again. I just can't!"
"But—" her father tried to reply.
"You're not welcome here!" Honeydew cried, as her eyes filled with tears. "Get out, or I'll... I'll use my magic the way you always feared I would!"
Her horn flared brighter, and the maple tree nearby shuddered, creaking as it stood at attention, ready to move if she willed it. Melon Rind glanced at the tree and then back at his daughter, terrified.
"Dewey, stop!" Scuffle urged, sprinting down the walk and skidding to a halt in between the two ponies at odds. "Hold on, no need for a confrontation!"
Honeydew looked bleak. "It's my father," she deadpanned, as if suspecting Scuffle didn't recognize him. "Why wouldn't you expect a confrontation?"
Scuffle hesitated. He glanced between Honeydew's skeptical expression and Melon Rind's guarded look.
"Because..." he said carefully. "Your dad, he's, um... he's the one who designed and organized all those plantboxes and baskets in the house. I just helped him set it all up."
Honeydew blinked. She stood in the middle of the walkway, her expression vacant. It seemed she had no idea what to say or do to respond to that.
"Originally, I just had railings put in," Scuffle continued, "which would've worked, but definitely not as well. Your dad figured out how to arrange things in such a way that you'd be able to get around with Lifesight, without actually blocking any walkways or filling half the floorspace with plant pots or something."
Honeydew tugged anxiously on the trailing ends of her mane for a moment.
"...Why?" she asked finally.
Scuffle slowly stepped aside so father and daughter were face to face again. Honeydew's horn returned to a gentle glow, just maintaining her Lifesight spell.
"...Honeydew," Melon Rind said finally. "Let's be frank here. Magic's got no place at our farm, or in our town. That's not going to change."
"I got that, yes," Honeydew replied dryly.
"But that being said, we— that is, your mother and I— we weren't... we weren't trying to actively hurt you," he continued, stumbling over his words a bit. When you were born a unicorn, we saw that as if..."
He trailed off, but Honeydew continued to wait, until he was forced to continue.
"...it was the same to us as if... you'd been born with a disability," he muttered, his gaze now locked firmly on the cobbles under his hooves. "We raised you how we did not because we hated you, but because we saw your... um, unicorn-ness as a condition that needed to be overcome. It never occurred to either of us that being born with a horn on your head had the potential to be anything other than an obstacle, so, like with some other disabilities, we thought with the right kind of upbringing, you'd be able to live a 'normal' life despite it."
"...You chose some awfully cruel ways to try to make me 'normal'," Honeydew said finally.
"W-we were frustrated!" Melon sputtered, putting up his forehooves defensively. "As a filly, you were listless. You seemed to have no interests. So we thought you were lazy. In public, you kept your distance, and rarely made eye contact or spoke, so you seemed aloof and antisocial. So we tried— harder and harder— to mould you into the pony we hoped you could be. We thought your behavior was simply defiant, and we chalked it all up to the effects of that horn on your head. So we got more strict, more severe hoping one day it'd finally snap you out of it."
Honeydew's bitter expression grew deeper. "Well, it had the opposite effect," she said hoarsely, sinking down onto her haunches. "You, and everypony for that matter, were against me. I shut the world out. What choice did I have?"
She looked like she was about to cry. Melon Rind took a few small steps forward, and sat down across from her, removing his wide-brimmed hat and clutching it against his chest.
"...Your friend here," he said softly, angling his head in Scuffle's direction. "He, well... he told me a bit about your life these days. He says you've got lots of friends, you've poured your heart and soul into a subject you love, and you're growing more confident and outgoing every day. And of course, I thought that was odd. It didn't sound anything like the lazy, frail, antisocial filly that grew up at the farm."
Honeydew wiped her eyes. "What are you trying to say?" she asked.
"I'm saying that when you were a foal, you needed somepony to cultivate your talents and interests," Melon sighed. "It wasn't the kind of mental and social enrichment you could get on a small earth pony farm. We thought we were in charge of determining what you needed, but it seems from the day you were born with that unicorn magic twinkling somewhere inside you, you were destined for a different path. We didn't know how to raise a pony like you, and on top of that, we weren't aware we didn't know. It was... really a case of the blind leading the blind."
Honeydew's mouth hung open slightly. "I... s-see," she stuttered.
"When I arrived here, I saw something I'd never seen before," the stallion confessed. "I saw you using your magic, yes. But I also saw you with a level of agency you never showed at home. Motivated. Conversational. And um... happy. Other than the magic part, I saw the pony your mother and I dreamed of raising when we were new parents."
The disbelief on Honeydew's face was growing with each word out of her father's mouth. Hesitantly, the stallion lifted a forehoof and placed it lightly on her shoulder. He looked her right in the eyes, and even though she could only see him with her magic, she stared back regardless.
"Let me ask you just one question, Honeydew," he said slowly. "Do you need magic to be that kind of pony?"
Honeydew, her expression as certain as Scuffle had ever seen it, nodded immediately. "Yes."
"...Thought you might say that," her father replied. "In Ponyville, you've got ponies that understand that magic, and love you for it. They celebrate it, cause it seems it ties together all the elements that make you who you are. And I was thinking about it, and... I suppose you couldn't hope to circumstances like that back at the farm. I helped your friend with the house because I figured, well... by Luna's moon, I might as well try to do one thing right when it comes to creating an environment that you can flourish in."
"Wait, so... you mean you agree that I should live here, with Scuffle?" Honeydew asked, incredulous.
"I'd say the 'you' I've seen today has only ever really lived here," Melon Rind said thoughtfully. "That filly that grew up under our care... well, she was hardly even the same pony. The Honeydew sitting in front of me now is the Honeydew I was hoping to raise. If that Honeydew can only exist alongside unicorn magic... well, I guess I'll cut my losses on that part."
He stood up, leaving Honeydew sitting flabbergasted on the front walk. Before leaving, he turned to Scuffle.
"And you, boy," he barked. "Honeydew seems convinced that you're the pony who will continue to bring out the best in her, day in and day out. So I'd better not catch wind of you dragging her down, you hear me?"
Scuffle smirked. "Loud and clear, Mr. Rind. Don't you worry."
Melon harrumphed. "Then I suppose there's nothing else to be said," he grumbled. "Don't let me down, bo... err, Scuffle."
And without a further glance back, he spun around and marched out the front gate and out of sight.
Knock, knock, knock.
Scuffle stirred. With a snort, he rolled over, rubbing his eyes.
"Huh?" he managed, barely conscious.
With a barely audible click, the bedroom door opened, and grid of gentle green light illuminated the previously pitch dark room, revealing Honeydew in the doorway.
Scuffle sat up. "Dewey?"
"Sorry for waking you," Honeydew apologized immediately.
"No problem," Scuffle answered, as his visitor made her way into the room, navigating quite well with the aid of the ivy on the walls and the little box of flowers on the bedside table. "It's like two in the morning. You okay?"
"Can't sleep," the filly mumbled, frowning.
Scuffle looked her over. Even in the dim light, it was clear in her expression that she was exhausted.
"What's wrong?" he asked finally. "You look like you're about ready to doze off on your hooves."
"I didn't say I'm not sleepy. Just that I can't sleep," Honeydew corrected, pouting. "My head's still spinning from everything that happened the last two days. Do you think... I could sleep here? Being with somepony familiar will probably help."
Scuffle immediately scooted over and patted the bed, inviting Honeydew to join him. Carefully, she crawled into the big bed, wrapping her forelegs around him almost immediately and laying her head on the fluff on his chest. Smiling, he softly stroked her wavy mane with a hoof.
"Comfy?" he asked.
"Mhm."
A few moments passed in silence. Just as Scuffle was beginning to grow drowsy again, Honeydew spoke.
"...How did you do it?"
Scuffle looked down at her. "Huh?"
"My father," Honeydew clarified. "How did you get through to him? I tried so many times, for so many years..."
Scuffle considered how to answer. "Well, you remember what I said when we stayed at their place when we were on the run with Dinks last month?" he asked softly. "Sometimes it seems like somepony could never, ever change. Not in a million years. And occasionally, that might be true. But other times, they're just missing a certain perspective that makes everything click. I'd say... your dad had never really met the real you. Not that I'm trying to take the blame off him or anything; he was at fault for never even giving you a chance to show who you really were in the first place. But even so... I guess that's what it took for him to admit to himself that he'd been wrong all these years."
Honeydew yawned. "Guess so," she mumbled sleepily. "My parents will never find any sort of harmony with unicorn magic, but... maybe someday, they can find some sort of common ground with me after all."
"Someday, yeah," Scuffle agreed, snuggling the filly a little tighter. "But for now, I think everypony's fine with it if you keep to your world and they keep to theirs for a while."
"No arguments here," Honeydew giggled quietly. "I'm more than okay with staying right here with my Ponyville friends, this amazing new home... and you, Scuffle."
"Same," Scuffle chuckled. "After all the drama lately, all I wanna do is spend time with my favorite mare in all of Equestria."
Honeydew purred softly as she relaxed into his fur.
"Y'know, if you sleep easier spending the night with me," Scuffle mused, "we could just share this bedroom and convert your room into that study you wanted."
Honeydew didn't weigh in on that. Scuffle glanced down and discovered she was fast asleep in his arms.
"Guess that kinda answers my question," he whispered.
The colt's eyes slid shut, and soon, the pair of unicorns both enjoyed a peaceful slumber, together in their new home.