Twilight shuffles her wings and fidgets in front of the door. It shouldn’t be hard to open. It’s just the storage cellar to Sugarcube Corner. At least it is, most days. Twilight’s about to walk back up the stairs and out into the crisp autumn air, pretend none of this happened, pretend she never got the invite from …
Pinkie Pie walks down the stairs, a sad, gentle little smile on her face. “Twilight, I promise it helps,” she says, laying a gentle hoof against Twilight’s quivering, sweat-damp shoulder. Twilight leans into the friendly contact desperately, quivering even harder as Pinkie rubs down her shoulders in little soothing circles. Pinkie’s hooves run through her tense and aching coverts, and for a moment Twilight is wrapped up in warm bliss and comfort before she remembers … She yelps as the sharp pain comes back and jerks away from Pinkie, to thud against that infernal door.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Pinkie blurts out, nervously taking a step towards Twilight’s quivering form and giving the lightest of nuzzles. “I remember that Dashie …” Pinkie cringes again and shakes herself. “I thought it would calm you down,” she mumbles, rubbing one foreleg against another.
“It’s not your fault,” Twilight answers, turning towards the door. Her voice is heavy and thick, almost belonging to another pony. “It used to calm me down, it’s just … still pretty raw right now.” She raises one heavy hoof. Her muscles were replaced with gritty sand, from how hard it is, how much it tingles and burns as she forces the heavy oaken door against its worn doorjamb and lets is creak open.
Soft candlelight flickers around the room, a room that looks nicer than it has any right to. Somepony’s bedsheets hide most of the cut-dirt walls, and a buffet of pastries and fresh daisies sits perched atop piles of flour sacks. The thick beams and joists that form the cieling have been cleared of any but the most picturesque spiderwebs, and Twilight can see why as her eyes adjust.
Fluttershy sits solemnly on a cushion, looking thoughtfully at the rough wood floor. She looks up as Pinkie and Twilight walk in, blinks, and gasps, a sorrowful, broken thing.
In a second, she’s pressed up against Twilight in a clingy, trembling hug. “I’m so sorry,” she murmurs into Twilight’s drooping ears. “I had no idea…”
Twilight swallows and returns the hug. It’s warm and soft and wonderful, and tears leak down her face unbidden. “Neither did I,” she answers, wooden. Something’s caught in her throat - she swallows again, rubs her cheek absently into the crook of Fluttershy’s neck.
“You too, huh?” Twilight’s ears twitch at a slightly familiar voice. She’s heard it before, angrier than this. She reluctantly breaks herself from Fluttershy’s deathgrip and scrubs at her face with a fetlock before turning.
“Gilda?” The griffoness quirks her beak into a wry grin, holding out her talons in a fist. Twilight knocks it gently with a hoof, a snigger from the absurdity of seeing Gilda and Pinkie in the same room like this.
“What, are you surprised?” Gilda asks gently, padding closer with inequine grace.
Twilight shrugs. “I guess… I mean, this explains a lot,” she says, her eyes flicking from Gilda to Pinkie and back.
Gilda chuckles and throws an eagle-arm around Pinkie’s withers. “Yeah, Pinks actually asked around and found me for this. Said we should make a time and place to talk about it, that one of her other friends was also … yeah.” Twilight can’t fathom the relief that comes from Gilda’s little omission. More tears leak from her eyes and she almost breaks completely.
“I … I just … I thought we were… “ she blubbers, her eyes swimming with tears. There’s two, no three warm bodies pressed up against her as she wails and quivers and sobs and finally, finally runs empty, slumping onto the rough wood. She can’t bother to worry about splinters.
--TIME LIMIT--
“It’s not anything to do with you, alright?” Gilda’s rough voice sounds almost motherly in her ears. “She tries so hard, but it’s just not how she works, you know?” Twilight nods. She knows better than she ever wanted to. Than she ever thought she would.
Pinkie guides her to standing, smiling in that same sympathetic way, and pulls Twilight into a hug, carefully avoiding Twilight’s wings. “You remember what I told you about this?” Twilight nods. PInkie’s smile gets a little wider, and she joins Fluttershy and Gilda in rapt attention. “Go on,” she soothes, “Say the words. They help a little.”
Twilight coughs and breathes deeply, in and out. In and out. “Hello, My name’s Twilight,” she begins. She swallows again to loosen her suddenly clenching jaw, “And up until three days ago, I was dating Rainbow Dash.”