Part 3 - The Answer In The Question
The sun began to rise, the barest hints of light beginning to make their way over the horizon, threatening to scatter the late winter’s pre-dawn gloom. As the faint rays made their way into the bruised sky, Applejack stepped outside her front door and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. She turned, her eyebrow raising as she noted that the faint glow in the sky was met by another glow from one of the barns.
She trotted over, surprised to see a sign of life this early in the day. Inside, Caramel sat hunched over his workbench, his head resting in his hooves as he stared intently at the desktop. Beside his stool, Winona lifted her head, evidently glad for some company that did more than sit in silence. The collie bounded over to her owner as Applejack walked up to Caramel’s side. Applejack cleared her throat quietly, and the stallion let out a strangled gasp, nearly jumping clear off the stool.
“Sheesh, AJ,” he panted.
“Sorry, partner,” she said, her grin belying her apology. “What’re you doin’ here so early? It’s not even dawn yet; normally it’s just me, Mac, and Winona up by now.” Before Caramel could offer a response, his boss stepped forward to look over his shoulder. Her eyes met the worn notebook that rested on the workbench and the simple sketch on the page. “Shoot, Caramel, I didn’t know you were an artist!” She smiled appreciatively at the clean lines depicting him and Twilight.
The tan pony blushed through several shades of crimson as his hooves drifted over his art, not doing all that much to cover it. “Oh, uh… It’s nothing. Just a little something I do in my spare time.”
“I wouldn’t call that nothin’. I’d say it’s pretty good, myself. Were you thinkin’ of what to add to that one?”
Caramel turned back to his drawing, staring mutely at the simple line art of himself and his marefriend. He frowned, his jaw working as he searched for the words he felt. “I’m not sure,” he said hesitantly. “It’s been forever since I started it and every time I think of working on it more, I feel like I can’t do it. It’s like there’s something in this picture that I’m missing—like there’s something important hidden there, and if I add anything I’ll ruin it.”
Applejack’s head canted slowly to the side as she tried to follow his reasoning. The image was simple; just Caramel and Twilight, together. It was simplistic, perhaps, but it didn’t seem incomplete, not even to the farmer. She finally gave up, shaking her head and chuckling. “Shoot, I dunno, Caramel. I don’t know much about art, so I wouldn’t really know how to help with that. I just know it looks pretty.” She patted the stallion on his shoulder.
“It’s like there’s got to be some sort of reason for us to be together, but I’m just not seeing it,” he muttered, completely unresponsive to his boss.
“Sugarcube, are you all right?”
Caramel shook himself back into the present and looked over to Applejack, who was staring at him with a worried expression. He pulled back slightly. “Sure, I’m fine. Why?”
Applejack frowned. “Caramel, it’s been near two months since Twilight rejected your proposal. I knew that messed with your head, but I didn’t think it hit you that hard.” Caramel’s ears fell as he huffed quietly, and Applejack gave him a sympathetic smile in response. “Do you need a day off to get your head cleared out?”
“No, definitely not,” he replied with an emphatic shake of his head. “I need to do something, I need to stay busy. I can think more clearly when I’m doing something.”
“Tell ya what: You were tending to the garden today, right? How about I get Mac on that instead, and you can go work on the new fences in the south orchard. That’s nice and repetitive—should be good for ya.”
Caramel nodded appreciatively. “Thanks, AJ.”
As the farmpony left, Caramel turned back to his page. The simplicity of the drawing mocked his lack of understanding. What are we feeling? he thought glumly. Are we happy? Sad? Afraid?
His shoulders slumped as he sighed, slid the sketchbook back into his saddlebag, and shuffled towards the fields under the strengthening daylight.
Why are we together?
As winter waned, the days grew warmer and the snow less oppressive, allowing Caramel and his fellow farmers to attend to chores that the deeper winter made difficult. The fence around the south orchard was one such item, and it had been in dire need of repair.
Caramel shook out his mane, scattering the slight perspiration that had collected on his brow during the morning. He dropped his pliers to the ground and nodded, content that the fence rail he had just added would keep its position without being held there. It might not keep out a hydra, but it was sturdy and rather good looking.
The sound of hooves on the hard path drew his attention, and he looked up to gauge the time. The sun indicated noon, and he stood and cracked his neck, glad for whoever had distracted him long enough for him to remember to eat lunch.
Twilight came into view, trotting down the path with an easy smile on her face. She called out to him, “Hey, Caramel, I found you! Applejack said you’d be down here somewhere.”
Despite his weariness from missed sleep and his earlier doubtful thoughts, Caramel could feel his tensions drain away at the mere presence of his marefriend. At five months pregnant, her sleek form was now showing the first noticeable signs of her condition. The doctor had assured her that it was a bit earlier than some but perfectly normal for a first-time mother, especially one as active and trim as Twilight. “Hey, Twi,” he called back, stifling a yawn with his hoof. “What’s up?”
The mare trotted up and nuzzled at Caramel’s cheek, her touch invigorating the stallion better than a cup of coffee. “Oh, nothing much. I just wondered if you might like a break. Maybe we could get some lunch?”
He glanced at her midsection. “Are you sure you want to be in public right now? I can get something and bring it somewhere where we can relax more.”
“Caramel, we’ve been over this: I’m pregnant, not crippled,” Twilight said. “Besides, you know as well as I do that there’s no harm to the foal in getting some fresh air and exercise.”
“Right,” he muttered sheepishly. “Sorry, Twi, you know I can’t help but worry sometimes.”
She relaxed slightly, trading her gritted teeth and terse expression for a gentle smile. “I know, but as I’ve said before, I am pretty sure of what I can and can’t handle.”
“I know. And I’d love to join you for some lunch.”
After replacing Caramel’s tools in the barn where they’d be safe from the damp snow, the two ponies trotted off down the road towards Ponyville, drawn to the sounds of the marketplace.
Even during the winter, the town market kept up a brisk trade. Ponies bundled up more than normal—and the produce business leaned towards root vegetables and winter grains more than it did in the summertime—but hoofmade items, tools, and clothing were always in demand. Many of the shops and cafés even offered hot tea or coffee for free to encourage ponies to venture from the warmth of their homes and support the vendors.
The Ponyville town square was a mass of ponies, and with the crowds milling in every direction Caramel wasn’t totally surprised when he realized that he had gotten separated from Twilight. He snorted in irritation as he looked about for her, his mind creating any number of scenarios that could happen with this many ponies out and about.
His nervousness mounting, Caramel redoubled his efforts to find a path through the throng, keeping close to the stalls where the traffic was thinner. He passed several, not paying particular attention to any of them until a familiar shade of purple caught his eye. Twisting around, he saw an image of his marefriend across the front of a magazine. A grin spread across his face. It was still a bit of a shock to him that Twilight was famous, but Caramel guessed that it should have been obvious considering all the times she'd saved Equestria.
Caramel glanced around again, biting his lip as he considered the situation. He may worry about Twilight in this crowd, but he knew she would scold him for thinking she couldn’t take care of herself. Telling his mind to relax, he took a deep breath, approached the newsstand, and pulled out a copy of the magazine. He glanced over the cover, and his smile fell as he read the title “Pregnancy Scandal” emblazoned in garish letters across the image. He flipped to the inside, where he stared at quite recent photos of Twilight, obviously taken without her knowledge.
It wasn’t right, and it made Caramel’s stomach turn slightly. Ponies shouldn’t be out stalking his marefriend, no matter how famous she was. Besides, if these ponies were watching and taking pictures, who knew who else was watching, and with what motives? His ire rising, he skimmed over the article itself instead.
This publication has learned that the royal protégé Twilight Sparkle, often held up as an example to all of ponykind, is pregnant…
…no stallion is known to be the father, prompting questions over the mystery stallion’s motives, and some wonder if Twilight has any intention of marrying at all…
…loose morals and a lack of accountability to the public has led to…
…Celestia seems to support her student’s irresponsible actions, potentially weakening the throne’s already strained threads of moral authority…
Caramel stared dumbly at the page, unable to read any more. The article was a blanket assault, one composed of nothing but pure conjecture and slander that even went so far as to indict him, despite having no idea who he was. Even if it had been accurate in any way, Caramel’s head still reeled from the idea that anypony could be so insensitive—so judgmental—to somepony they had never met. It made him unsure of whether he was more incensed or hurt by what he had read, and that was only by what was said about him. He could feel a righteous anger burning in his chest over the slights against the mare he loved, unable to find an outlet.
As he stood at the stall, the pony hawking the magazines leaned across the counter to see what he was reading. “Ah, how about that, eh?” the merchant commented breezily. “Some story.”
“Yeah…” Caramel responded, not paying attention as his emotions rose and fought with each other.
“Wonder who that stallion is. Lucky little so-and-so.”
Caramel looked up, focusing on the vendor for the first time. “I, uh, what?”
The newspony leaned in and pointed a hoof unsuspectingly at the picture of Caramel’s lover. “You know she’s gotta be a freak in bed. The bookworms always are.”
As she reached the edges of the crowd, Twilight turned to look back, scanning for Caramel’s tan coat among the various colors of pony. Caramel had known where they were going for lunch before they left, so Twilight had no real reason to be concerned over their separation. At least, she hadn’t until she heard his voice overpower all the noise and commotion of the market.
“COME HERE, YOU!”
Twilight charged recklessly back into the throng, using her magic to smoothly clear a path as she pushed her way towards where her mate’s voice had come from. Her jaw dropped as she broke through to see Caramel snorting in fury and being held back from a newsstand by three other ponies. The vendor inside was cowering behind the counter, his eyes panicked.
Twilight raced over to Caramel’s side, gently pushing the other ponies aside as she restrained her stallion with her magic. His eyes were wide and angry, and his teeth ground together as he growled and pressed against her magic, trying to get free.
“Caramel, what the hay?”
“Stand back, Twilight; I’m gonna stomp this guy.”
With a bewildered shake of her head, Twilight focused and teleported both of them to the library, where she released Caramel. The stallion crashed to the ground with the magazine still clenched in his hoof and looked around frantically. “Wha—where—how did we get here?”
Twilight stood in front of Caramel, her expression carefully rigid and her voice low and controlled. “Caramel, what in Equestria was that all about?”
The tan pony rubbed a hoof through his chestnut mane, starting to come down from his adrenaline high as he got back up onto his hooves and threw the magazine to the floor. “That… pony,” he growled, unwilling to use the language in his head in front of Twilight. “He made some remarks about you. Ones that I didn’t appreciate at all.”
Twilight glanced at the cover of the offending magazine, and leafed quickly to the article in question with her magic. She skimmed over the article without expression or comment until she sighed, kicked the magazine away, and turned back to Caramel. “That? A gossip rag takes a poke at me, and you lose your head?”
Caramel snorted. “It’s all lies, Twi, and ponies out there believe it! Ponies out there, in this town, actually believe that you’re unprincipled, or an easy lay, or that I’m a deadbeat stallion.” He shook his head furiously. “That is not okay, not about my mare.”
“Do you think this is the first time it’s ever happened?” Twilight retorted, her voice rising quickly. “You might remember that my friends and I are celebrities. We’ve been dealing with the public for years, Caramel.”
The stallion stamped his hoof emphatically, his voice rising. “Maybe so, but I could have done—could do something about this!”
“Like what? Punching out anypony who reads it? Are you going to go to jail because somepony says something crude about me?”
“Twilight, I—” Caramel huffed, frustrated. “You don’t deserve that treatment, and frankly, if you hadn’t turned down my marriage proposal, maybe they’d be publishing stories about your new life and future family instead of simply inventing ideas of how you’re… what they’re saying you are.”
Twilight’s ears folded back flat against her head as she met his glare. “So because it’s still happening, clearly I’m either too weak to do anything or I approve of it, right? Do I need you to protect me now? Are you going to get the whole world to stop saying bad things about me?” Twilight advanced on him, poking him in the chest with a hoof. “Is this what being married to you would be like? You constantly hanging over me, fretting over every little detail? I don’t need that, Caramel!”
Caramel froze, his ears slowly falling back. “Is it really so wrong that I want to keep bad things from happening to you? That I want to protect you? That I want to be your stallion?”
“Do you remember who I am?” Twilight challenged. “I’m the student of Celestia herself. I do not need to be saved from anything, least of all somepony’s uneducated opinions!”
The stallion recoiled, unable to come up with an adequate response to Twilight’s anger, simply remaining silent as she fumed. He eventually met her eyes, his own gaze hard and hurt, and muttered, “I’m sorry.”
Twilight’s expression faltered, turning confused as he turned his back on her and walked to the door. “Caramel, what—”
He stopped with his hoof on the doorknob. “You’re right, Twilight. You don’t need me.”
He could just see her eyes widening as the door shut behind him, closing them off from each other.
Twilight grunted with the effort of magically lifting a massive stack of books, and began to sort them back into the shelves with more force than was strictly necessary. With Caramel gone—potentially for good, she realized—she had ranted to the empty library for some time, finally deciding that she had to organize something before she exploded.
After cleaning and reorganizing the bathroom, kitchen, refrigerator, and bedroom, she had started in on the nonfiction section, deciding to put the books back by author this time instead of by topic, which really hadn’t been that successful of an idea. Halfway through the Ts, she was interrupted by a knock.
The door swung open without her help, and Rarity trotted in with her saddlebags on her back and wearing what was doubtlessly a trendy hat and scarf combination. “Twilight, dear, I’m off to Canterlot for supplies. Would you like me to pick up any textbooks for you this time?”
Twilight sighed, both thankful for and irritated by the interruption. “I think I’m fine for books, Rarity. Thanks.”
“Anything else you might need?” Rarity offered hesitantly.
“No. I don’t think there is.”
Rarity frowned, staring at the massive pile of books floating around and the librarian’s firmly set expression. “Twilight, is everything okay?”
Twilight scratched for something to deflect the question, but by the time she could think of an explanation for her terse attitude, Rarity had already floated her saddlebags and hat to the side and drawn over a couch with her magic. Heaving another massive sigh, Twilight let the stacks of books float back to the floor and walked over to a bench of her own.
“Talk to me, darling,” Rarity prompted, taking a seat and folding her hooves under herself.
Twilight sat heavily on the bench and blew her mane out of her face. “It—it’s Caramel. We sorta had a fight.”
“Oh? Whatever about?”
“He keeps treating me like I’m weak or something.” Twilight frowned, her ears falling back as she recalled the argument. “He’s always thinking that I shouldn’t work so hard, or do anything that could possibly have any plausible hint of danger.”
Rarity put a hoof to her chin thoughtfully. “So, he’s a bit overprotective, then?”
Twilight snorted. “Put mildly, yes. It’s just so insulting, though! I did fight against unimaginable horrors before I met him, after all.”
“Yes, I do recall. I was present,” her friend interjected mildly.
“And then today he saw a tabloid article about my pregnancy and just lost it. He acts like he has to face down every threat to my honor himself. So we had a fight about it. I told him that I don’t need him to protect me from everything. I just—” Twilight huffed, deflating slightly. “I hate being treated like I’m weak. Like I can’t take care of myself.”
“And how did he take it?” Rarity asked quietly.
“I—I’m not real sure,” Twilight said quietly, frowning as she pondered over his departure. “He got quiet, apologized, and left. I hope I wasn’t too hard on him…”
No response came, and Twilight looked up at Rarity. The librarian arched her eyebrow inquisitively, searching for some sort of reply from her friend.
Rarity took a deep breath to compose herself and folded her hooves primly in front of her. “Twilight, I should think you’re not going to like what I have to say, but say it I must.”
Twilight scowled and rolled her eyes. “What, you think I’m wrong?”
The designer kept her voice calm and soft, though her words were plenty pointed. “Darling, you did something frustratingly senseless. You are so wrong and stubborn and prideful that you hurt Caramel, perhaps even so much that he may not recover from it.”
“What in the hay do you mean?” Twilight scoffed.
“There’s something you should realize about stallions, and it’s that they’re quite different from those of our feminine persuasion. We think differently, we act differently, and there’s a purpose to that.” Rarity stared intently into Twilight’s eyes. “Stallions are born with an innate need to protect. It’s not something they think about or choose. It’s an integral part of who they are.”
Rarity shifted her weight and looked away. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Twilight. Remember when I was captured by those vulgar diamond dogs?” Twilight nodded slowly, starting to feel less sure of her indignant position. “Do you think I really needed anypony to come get me, knowing how it all turned out? Of course not—I’m perfectly able of taking care of myself in a spot of trouble, as I showed. Despite that, little Spike’s gallant gesture was honestly one of the most heartwarming things I’ve ever experienced.” She met Twilight's gaze once more, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Do you ever wonder why the Royal Guard exists?”
“I, uh,” Twilight stalled, trying to follow the turn of the conversation. “I suppose not. Why?”
“Don’t you ever wonder why the most powerful beings in the whole world need to be surrounded by armed ponies? Don’t you think the princesses are quite capable of taking care of themselves? And yet, dozens upon dozens of ponies swear themselves to the task of giving up anything to protect their leaders, even willing to die in the course of duty. Does that make Celestia weak?”
Twilight tried to think quickly but couldn’t respond. She could feel her argument crumbling away from under her.
Rarity smiled at Twilight in an almost motherly fashion. “Darling, it’s part of what makes a stallion a stallion. What he loves, he devotes himself to. It’s not a sign that you need his protection, it’s how he is best able to serve you. It truly is a shame about the age difference, because Spike’s charge to my rescue is one of the most genuinely romantic things anypony has ever done for me.”
“So,” Twilight said quietly, her lavender face growing a bit paler, “what did I do? I told Caramel…”
“You told him you didn’t need him,” Rarity said, keeping her voice gentle. “Not just that you didn’t need him to protect you, but that you didn’t need him. Because that part of him isn’t something that can be removed or put aside; it’s part of who he is.”
“And—and you really think he might not recover from that?”
“Let me put it to you this way,” Rarity replied. “Mares generally want to be wanted, but practically every stallion needs to be needed.”
“Oh…” Twilight bit her lip and looked towards the door anxiously.
“I won’t lie, Twilight; I should imagine that you hurt him rather badly. The reason I think this might be fixable is that you didn’t browbeat him like that in public. With the right words and the right actions, you can probably make it right, but it will take some work.” Rarity glanced up at the clock and stood up from her couch. “I have to go, Twilight. If I don’t make my train, I may not get the supplies to finish this order on time, but I suggest you think about this and talk to Caramel soon. I’ll also speak to him on your behalf if you need it after I get back, but he needs to hear certain things from you, and most of all, he needs to know that you support and respect him.”
Twilight nodded distantly as Rarity walked over and gave her a warm hug. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “Caramel has a big heart. It gets hurt easier, but he’ll be eager to forgive you if he can.”
Caramel walked slowly into the barn as the sun began to set, realizing belatedly that he still hadn’t had anything to eat so far that day. He grabbed a potato and an apple from the winter storage bins and munched absentmindedly as he tried to banish the fight from his mind.
I just can’t seem to get anything right, he thought as he paced. I guess she was right not to marry me after all.
No matter how good his intentions, no matter how noble his aims, he always seemed to screw things up. A year ago if he messed something up it was the farm that was affected, but there were enough other ponies helping out that nothing ever was ruined for long. Now, though, there was a mare who was going to have his foal. He had screwed up again, and now somepony’s life would never be the same because of it.
It’s not like I don’t try, he thought. What more can she ask of me? What makes Twilight so perfect that she can look down on me for wanting to protect her?
He stopped and stood still, staring at the potato in his hoof. He couldn’t even make sense of his own feelings as he rocked back and forth between anger and sorrow, self-pity and sarcastic ire. This was what his mare did to him, it seemed. He wanted to change for her. He wanted to be the kind of stallion that she needed him to be, but she seemed to want something completely different from what he was, and he just couldn’t take the pain and frustration of being unable to measure up.
He reared up and threw the remainder of the potato across the room, stalking over to his workbench and grabbing the sketchbook. Inside, image after idealized image of Twilight stared back at him, accusing him of how little he seemingly understood his own marefriend.
He growled as he tore out the first of the portraits and ripped it down the middle, rending the sketch into tiny scraps with his hooves. “Why am I not good enough for you?” he yelled at the paper, ripping away another picture and destroying it. “Why do you deserve so much better than me?” A third and a fourth joined the first two on the floor in tatters. “What makes you think you’re so perfect? You’re not that good, Twilight!”
Another image ripped away with a satisfying noise, leaving Caramel face-to-face with the unfinished drawing, the one that had been on his mind for months.
He reached out, preparing to take out his rage on the drawing, the sketch that had left him so uncertain. He hesitated, trying to will himself to follow through.
What if she’s right?
Caramel slid onto his stool and curled inwards, not even feeling the urge to cry as the thought hit him.
Twilight is better than I am. She doesn’t need me. But I need her…
“Hey, anypony home?”
Caramel vaguely recognized the brash voice, but didn’t bother to answer.
“Hey, Caramel!” He nodded a bit as Rainbow Dash walked into the barn and greeted him. “Hey, just checking snow depths for Winter Wrap—whoa.” He looked up as Rainbow stared at the floor, gawking at the multiple torn and sundered pictures of Twilight. “Dude, what the hay?” she asked quietly, her eyes reflecting her concern.
“Twilight doesn’t need me,” he muttered.
Rainbow gaped at him, her eyebrow quirked in confusion. “Okay. Start from the beginning. What happened?”
Caramel quickly ran through the events of the day. Rainbow listened, her eyes narrowing and her wings rising as his story went on.
“Oooh,” Rainbow Dash growled. “I’m gonna kick Twilight’s flank!”
Caramel’s mouth screwed up wryly. “Why? She’s right.”
She rounded on the stallion and pointed her hoof at him. “No. You shut up. Do not talk like that and don’t justify what she said, because she’s wrong.” The pegasus hopped into the air and began to fly back and forth, pacing in front of Caramel.
“I don’t think I get it,” he said. “She’s stronger and more capable than I am, so how’s she wrong?”
Rainbow landed with a huff, sweeping her mane out of her face with a hoof and calming herself. “Because she just is! Twilight’s always obsessed with doing everything herself, and if she could just stop and—and—” Rainbow shook her head and grunted in frustration. “Look, the point is that there’s nothing wrong with you trying to look out for her. Nothing. Yeah, okay, you overreacted. I don’t know if seeing you mad enough to attack another pony is hilarious or scary, but it doesn’t make Twilight saying that stuff to you okay!” She glanced around, waving a hoof at the scattered papers. “You tore up your pictures of her, dude. This whole thing is seriously messed up.”
Caramel grimaced but didn’t disagree. “Then why—”
He stopped, both Rainbow and Caramel turning towards the small sound of a hoof tapping tentatively on the doorframe. Standing just outside was Twilight, looking small and cowed. Rainbow leaped off the ground, zipping across the room and stomping back down just in front of the unicorn.
“What the hay, Twilight?”
Twilight leaned back slightly from Rainbow’s too-close glare. “Um, Rainbow Dash, can I have a minute with Caramel? Alone?”
Rainbow’s eyes narrowed. “Twilight, you’d better be making this right. If you screw this up worse…”
“I—I’m trying. I promise.”
The pegasus put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, gave her a nod, and walked slowly out the door before closing it behind her.
Twilight hung her head and rubbed a hoof on her other foreleg awkwardly, unwilling or unable to look Caramel in the eyes. He said nothing, simply watching her as she walked slowly forward, seeing the mess around him and wincing.
“I—Caramel, I’m sorry,” she blurted out, visibly forcing herself to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how hurtful what I was saying was.”
He nodded slightly. “Doesn’t make it untrue, though.”
Twilight slumped a little. “Maybe not in itself, but I was wrong. I behaved like a foal, Caramel. I was stubborn and selfish and I wanted to do everything myself.” She took a step forward until she was able to put a hoof on his. “I thought you were trying to make me something less than I was, which is stupid. I know you better than that. It never entered my head that you were trying to honor me by offering yourself in my defense.” A slight look of confusion came over his features as she grabbed his hoof tenderly. “I know I probably screwed things up quite a bit between us now, but I’d like a chance to try to fix it. May I?”
Caramel’s expression softened and he gripped Twilight’s hoof tightly. “I suppose I’d be a complete idiot to say ‘no,’ wouldn’t I?”
She smiled wanly. “Dinner, then? My treat?”
Caramel nodded, and the two walked out of the barn in silence, though the distance between them spoke volumes.
La Mandorla was the priciest restaurant in Ponyville, having opened only a few years ago after the population of Ponyville had swelled a bit. There were nicer and more costly places in Canterlot, but it was still the sort of place that warranted a rating of “snooty” from Applejack.
Since it wasn’t the weekend, Twilight didn’t need a reservation to get a table, and the wait was short enough. She and Caramel were quickly led away to a table in the main dining room, where they were left to browse through the menu.
There wasn’t a lot of discussion between the two as they waited for their meals to arrive, and even less once they began eating. Most of the silence was filled with awkward tension as Caramel fought with his emotions and Twilight searched for things to say that could make things right.
Twilight looked across the table as she chewed pensively, seeing how his eyes seemed to shift across the room without ever settling on her. Her heart ached slightly as she realized how recently he had been almost unable to keep his eyes off of her. His gaze seemed hopeful but distant, and she knew he was looking for a reason to trust her again.
She reached for her drink, searching for something to occupy her hooves, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Hey, I know you!”
Twilight turned to see a slate-grey pegasus stallion standing just behind her. He was young, athletic, and handsome—and, worse, he seemed like the type who knew it, if the loving detail he put into his lime-green mane was any indication. She narrowed her eyes at him as he grinned at her and shifted his weight from hoof to hoof nervously.
“Yeah, you’re in all the papers. Magazines. Whatever. Twilight Sparkle, right?”
Twilight glanced quickly over the bothersome pegasus. His eyes were a bit glazed, and his pupils were wider than what was considered normal. From the general smell of his breath and slightly lopsided grin, she assumed that he had been drinking. It was probably where he had gotten the courage to approach a celebrity. “Do you want an autograph or something?” she asked, trying to make it apparent that he wasn’t welcome.
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that,” he said quickly. His tail whipped back and forth behind him. “I’ve been reading about you. All the papers say that you don’t have a stallion around, so I just thought I’d come over and say ‘hi.’ Maybe see if you wanted to get a drink or something?” he said tentatively, his voice pitching up with the oblique request.
Twilight shot a glance at Caramel, who rolled his eyes in a “told you so” gesture and looked away. “I don’t know where you would have gotten that idea. If you don’t mind, I’m trying to spend a dinner with my coltfriend,” she said pointedly and turned back to the table.
“What, him? Seriously?”
Caramel winced visibly but bit his tongue and refused to rise to the challenge. Twilight spun back around to glare at the pegasus.
“He hasn’t said a word to you in, like, an hour,” the pegasus blurted out, his jaw hanging. Twilight could almost see the wheels in his head spinning furiously as he tried to find a way to make himself seem desirable. “I know you can do better than him. He’s a waste of time! I mean, come on, he doesn’t even stand up for you. Wouldn’t you prefer to have a stallion who isn’t so… weak?”
Twilight looked back at Caramel again. He was almost shaking with what she suspected was rage, but he just drummed his hooves on the table, stubbornly refusing to stand up for himself, much less for her. I did this, she realized. I told him to be like this. I never wanted him to be docile, I just wanted us to re… spect… each other…
In that moment, the answer came to Twilight. Respect means sometimes I need to give up the lead…
She stood up out of her booth, throwing her napkin back down on the table, and faced down the tipsy stallion. “Do you have any idea who I am?” she demanded angrily. By this point more than a few of the other patrons in the building had turned to observe them. The stallion stammered, unsure of how to proceed now that Twilight was going on the offensive. Twilight waved to the onlookers. “Go on,” she called, “help him out.”
“That’s Twilight Sparkle,” a diner offered, “Princess Celestia’s personal student.”
“I heard she’s a plenty powerful unicorn, maybe the strongest in Equestria!” somepony else spoke up.
“She’s saved Equestria three times!” called a colt from the back of the room.
“Four if you count the time with Princess Luna and the pumpkin launcher!” another colt at the same table chimed in.
“Thank you, everypony,” Twilight said as she turned back to stare coolly at the pegasus before her. “So, knowing all that—that I’m the most powerful unicorn in an age and could scatter your atoms with a thought—ask yourself a question: Just what kind of stallion would somepony like me ‘waste her time’ with? Because I assure you, I would not choose a weak stallion.”
Behind her, Caramel looked up, masking his confusion carefully. He could have sworn he just heard Twilight supporting him in front of the entire restaurant. He slowly slid out of his booth to stand silently at Twilight’s flank, anxious to hear what came next.
Twilight could feel Caramel’s nearness, and she grinned to herself as she stared down the inebriated pegasus. “I prefer the company of one who can handle himself fine, one who can protect me from anything—and knows when he does and doesn’t need to. Just because he’s too polite to put you in your place doesn’t mean he can’t, or won’t—and if you don’t believe me,” she said, her voice dropping down as the pegasus’ eyes widened, “I’ll let him handle you instead.”
Twilight took a small step to the side and allowed Caramel to come forward, putting himself right in front of the other stallion. The pegasus looked up at him, swallowing hard. The earth pony loomed over the pegasus, despite the almost negligible height difference between them. His stance was easy and powerful, and his head was held high, radiating confidence. Twilight watched the pegasus blanch under the fiery stare.
“You will apologize to my mate,” Caramel growled.
The challenger shrank back, drops of sweat beginning to bead up on his forehead. “Right, sorry, Twilight—ma’am. Sir. Both of you,” he said quickly before turning and galloping out of the room. A few tables offered some scattered applause for the diversion and slowly drifted back to their meals, and the general hubbub of conversation picked up in volume.
He turned back, staring at Twilight in a way that made the mare shiver slightly. He seemed so much more powerful, so much more intense, than any time she had known him. He pulled his saddlebags on and tossed a hooffull of bits onto the table to cover their check. “Come on, Twilight. We’re going home,” he said quietly, his voice nevertheless ringing with authority.
Twilight followed Caramel out the door, feeling a mixed sense of awe and glee. She had managed to pull him out of his shell, but now that she had done so she could feel something new building inside her. Caramel trotted steadily off towards the library, leading her. Twilight followed him eagerly.
Once they reached the door, he opened it and held it for her. She entered, her cheek brushing along the fur of his chin as she did. He followed her in, and no sooner had the door closed than he grabbed her and held her up on her rear hooves against the door, pressing his lips to hers needfully. Twilight tensed in surprise but began to melt into the kiss almost instantly, throwing her hooves around Caramel’s neck. The earth pony’s normally cautious, almost timid nature was seemingly gone, replaced with a forcefulness and passion that left Twilight’s legs weak. She might have dropped to the floor had he not been holding her so tightly and so possessively.
Caramel pulled back, taking a deep breath. “Twi…”
She ran a hoof through his mane. “Yes?”
He stared at her, his eyes slightly misty. “I love you so much. I—I can’t really describe—I don’t know how—”
Twilight laid her head in the crook of his shoulder, closing her eyes happily. “I’m so sorry, Caramel. I shouldn’t have disrespected you like I did. I know you’re just looking out for me because you love me—I just let my stubborn pride get the better of me.”
Caramel fought back a tear and kissed the top of Twilight’s head right between her ears. He drew her face back up to his. “So, does this mean that you’re okay with letting me stand up for you sometimes?”
The mare couldn’t help but blush and smile. “If it gets this kind of reaction out of you, I think I’d be okay with following you for the rest of my life.”
He grinned and let her down to all four hooves, ducking underneath and scooping her up onto his back. Twilight giggled and put her forelegs around his neck as he carried her off towards the stairs.
Twilight smiled, her eyes half-lidded sleepily, body curled up against Caramel’s chest and held tightly in his hooves. They were both sweaty, tired, and slightly smelly, but at the moment, both ponies would happily trade anything just to stay in the other’s arms like this. She nestled a little more firmly into his chest as he trailed a hoof over her back, idly tracing patterns through her velvety coat.
She sighed happily, and he chuckled at her reaction. Tonight had been so different from before. Normally, Caramel’s touch was gentle and yielding as they made love, but this time he had taken on an aggressiveness that seemed to light a fire in her. She felt like she had awakened something in him, and in response she had never felt more loved and cherished than she did right now. And as for what it had done to the sex itself, oh, Celestia, it had—
“Hey, Twi?”
She twitched, shaken out of her pleasant, drowsy reverie by Caramel’s voice. “Yeah?”
“I, uh…” She looked up to see his sheepish expression. “I’m sorry I ripped up your pictures.”
Twilight knew he was serious, but she couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the absurdity of the confession. “Caramel, it’s okay. I know you were upset.” She traced a hoof around his ear, making him grin. “I just didn’t know you could draw like that. It was amazing…”
He blushed. “Aw, it’s just a little hobby. Nothing much.”
“Are there any left?”
“Yeah, one.” He rolled away, keeping one hoof in contact with hers as he rummaged into his saddlebag on the floor. He came back up with a worn sketchbook and flipped it open. It fell easily to the sketch of the two of them.
Twilight rolled onto her stomach and studied the drawing in silence, tracing her hoof along the outlines. “It’s beautiful…” she muttered.
Caramel flopped over onto his back. “I like it, but every time I go to add to it, I freeze up. I feel like I’d be ruining something, something simple that I don’t really understand.”
She looked over at him. “Like what?”
“Well, I keep asking myself what the picture is feeling. I don’t know what emotion to draw, or even what it’s about. Why are we together there? Why are we together here?” he asked vaguely, waving at the ceiling with a hoof.
The unicorn caught his hoof in her magic and pulled it down to her own hoof. “Does it matter?” she asked him.
“Of course—” Caramel stopped suddenly, his eyes going distant. Twilight’s simple off-hoof remark resonated in his head, bouncing off of his memories over the last five months.
If there’s even the slightest doubt that you had a choice, if you feel like you need to marry me, then there’s a chance—no matter how small—that someday you or I would regret it.
Why are we together?
But just as a hypothetical, what would you do if that happened? What if she said she wanted to end your relationship?
“I’d fight…” he muttered under his breath.
Twilight raised her head to look at him. “What?”
Caramel looked back at her, his eyes wide as understanding came to him. “It really doesn’t matter, does it?” She cocked her head to the side in confusion as he rolled over onto his front, staring at the drawing. “It doesn’t matter why we’re together, only that we are…”
Twilight felt a smile creeping onto her face as he sat up and turned to her.
“I’ve been confused, I’ll admit it,” he said, wringing his hooves with nervous energy. “You were right before; I wanted to marry you for all the wrong reasons, no matter how good my intentions were. I’ve been afraid of what might happen to you, afraid of our reputation and even our ability to care for our foal together. It wasn’t right.
“Twi, I felt like crap today. I thought for the longest time that I would be able to marry you because we worked well together, because we liked each other, because we were compatible—or heck, just because we were going to bring a life into the world.”
He stared deep into her eyes, and Twilight could feel herself growing closer to the verge of tears as he spoke. Some still, small voice deep inside her seemed to whisper, This is it…
Caramel shook his head. “Your brother could see it when I couldn’t. He asked me what I would do if you said you wanted to break up with me. I told him at the time that I’d let you go, wanting you to be happy, and he said that’s how he knew we weren’t quite right for each other yet. That confused the heck out of me, but I know the answer now, Twi. I’d fight for you.”
Twilight put a hoof to her muzzle, determined to hear him out entirely before she gave vent to her emotions.
“I’d fight like crazy. I’d do anything to keep you.” He reached out and took her other hoof in both of his. “Oh Luna, I’m completely unprepared for this… I thought I could marry you because I could live with you, Twilight. But if this day has taught me anything, it’s that I’m not sure that I can live without you. So, for no other reason than I want you by my side—forever,” he said, his voice faltering as he pulled her hoof in gently and kissed it, “Twilight Sparkle,” he whispered, “will you marry me?”
Twilight stared through her watery vision into his eyes, searching his soul through them. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, pawing at the tears building up in the corners with her hoof. Inside her, the emotional roller coaster of the last five months replayed, times both blessed and painful winding through her mind, and at the end of it all lay the future: terrifying, exhilarating, tenuous, joyous, and above all, unknown. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, swallowing hard as her ears laid back.
Her voice barely worked, but she managed to squeeze out one single, audible word.
“Yes.”