//------------------------------// // Essays and Ice Skating // Story: Living in Equestria // by Blazewing //------------------------------// I had been right in my convictions that this assignment would be much more tiring than the last. I started breezily enough, jotting down little reference notes or short sentences about each region and their cultural habits based on the seasons, but that was far as I got. Constantly referring to maps and the texts Ironmane had provided only got me so far with information I could understand or call upon. All I had were notes on the climates and locations of the countries referred to in the text, yet that was obviously not going to be enough.The hours ticked away, and I was still at a loss for what to put for anything else. If Ironmane was giving me more difficult assignments, he’d want that to reflect in the answers I had. What I had so far could be considered basic, but it didn’t look like it could make for a final product. It was like I was back in school all over again. Thursday, December 1 *** The next morning, I tried to focus my mind on what else to write, hoping that a good night’s sleep would have helped, but I only had the feeling of an iron clamp squeezing my brain. It was if I was taking an open-book test, but the notes I had were insufficient, making me wish I had studied. I didn’t want to think that Ironmane purposely left me with a lack of information, but what was he expecting me to get from what he sent me? Was he expecting me to be some whiz on geography? What I wouldn’t have given for another sip of Zecora’s mental booster potion, but was it even safe to take it more than once? Would my head explode if I overdosed? This brain-wracking frenzy went on for the rest of the day, even as I tried to cool off in the hopes of inspiration coming to me. Moonlight didn’t come over to conclude the rest of The Staff of Star Swirl, so she must have been occupied with other matters. As evening drew on, with still no better results, I made up my mind. “I need Twilight.” I bundled up what I had written, geared up, and braved the cold in a walk to the library. The streets were empty, and rightfully so. Luckily, when I arrived, Twilight was still awake, though Spike had fallen asleep, snoring with obnoxious loudness for such a little guy. I could hear him all the way from the doorway. “What brings you out here on such a night?” Twilight asked. “Homework, Twi,” I said, “something I have no doubt you’re an expert on. How big are you on geography?” Twilight’s eyes lit up with the keen spark I noticed every time an idea hit her. “Cultural studies from Minister Ironmane?” she asked, wisely. “Bingo. I’ve been beating my brains about it since yesterday, and you’re the best pony I can turn to for this. Will you help me?” My tone and expression were pathetic enough from standing out in the cold, bundled as I was, but the additional pleading must have been what hit home with her. She smiled kindly and said, “Of course I will, Dave. Come in, before you catch your death of cold.” Gratefully, I stepped inside, setting my stuff down on the nearby table. A crackling fire was already burning away in the fireplace. Wait a minute, what? “Is this safe?” I questioned, warily. “A fireplace in a giant tree?” “It is if you’ve added a special fireproof magical insulation to the infrastructure, like I have,” said Twilight. “It’s imperative when you have a dragon for an assistant.” I was starting to think there was nothing Equestrian magic couldn’t do. “Wow. Pretty clever.” “Thanks. Now, let’s have a look here.” As I removed my coat and boots, Twilight flipped through the pages I had already jotted notes down upon. She also flipped through the referential pages Ironmane had instructed me to use. “Hmm…” she muttered. “There are plenty of details here, and you’ve got them all down. What’s the issue?” “The issue is I don’t know how much more he’d want. He said he was going to start challenging me, so I have this paranoid thought that he might be expecting me to go a little further than the material already given to me.” “You’re not alone with that fear, my friend,” Twilight muttered. “I remember essays where I double-checked, triple-checked to make sure I didn’t miss anything during the double-check, and then quadruple-checked the triple-check.” Sheesh. OCD much? “Well, if it’s extra tidbits to spice up your essay that you’re wanting, I’ve got a few books that can aid us.” So saying, her horn flared up, and several thick tomes and rolled-up maps floated over to the table, piling themselves neatly by the workspace. “Come, have a seat,” she said, sitting down. I hastened to obey and, opening the first book, Twilight began. *** I may have been hopeful of Twilight’s assistance, but what I hadn’t counted on was her strict agenda towards perfect work. I suppose I couldn’t blame her too much, seeing as she was technically a student, as well as the protege of the princess of the entire land, but her attention to exact detail was slowly grating on my nerves. If I vocalized even one incorrect assumption, or was too vague, she would swoop down on me like a hawk and hound me until I had found the right answer or elaborated. “No, no, Dave. You have to remember to mention neighboring communities as well. You can’t talk about Appleloosa without putting in a few words about Dodge Junction. It may be smaller, but it’s still an Earth pony settlement, and the only patch of arid land in southern Equestria to allow for cherry harvesting.” “It is there in the notes, Dave. The snowfalls from Cloudsdale were wild and unpredictable, but became calmer and more controllable after Snowdrop crafted the first snow star. It never hurts to elaborate, but make sure it doesn’t go on its own tangent.” Eventually, I lost my patience with this nagging. “For Pete’s sake, Twi!” I snapped. “When I asked for your help, I wasn’t asking for you to go full-teacher on me! Can’t you ease up?” Big mistake. Twilight grabbed me by the shoulders and, looking me straight in the eye, said, in a voice of deadly calm, “There is no ‘easing up’ when it comes to turning in paperwork to the royal court, Dave. This isn’t kindergarten or grade school, where the teacher might let you slip by with, at best, a C+ for good effort; it’s the royal family. You’re a part of that court too you know, even if you’re only a stipendiary. If you want to keep your position and the respect of your fellow members, you can’t just turn in an entry-level essay and expect to get a passing score. Minister Ironmane is testing how well you can process information on other species, and you need to show that you can. It’s all essential to international relations.” It was scary how threatening she had become in a mere instant, especially considering the fact that she wasn’t even yelling at me. However, she continued, in a gentler tone, “If it feels like I’m being hard on you, it’s only because I want you to do well. You can understand that, right?” The cold look on her face had dissolved into the kind expression I had always seen in Twilight. Numbly, I nodded, and she smiled. “Good. I’ll try not to be as strict. Shall we continue?” “Yeah, let’s.” Twilight did go easier on me by way of nitpicking, but she was still quick to point out any errors I was about to make, so it certainly wasn’t easy. It was near midnight by the time I was finally done. My back and wrist were killing me, and my eyes were aching with tiredness. “‘...As Zebrafica’s geography is composed of deserts, savannas, grasslands, and jungles, even in the winter, the days remain warm, while the nights are cool. This climate does not detract from cultural celebrations or festivities, as they celebrate their own variant of Hearth’s Warming, emphasizing the unity of the Zebrafican nations during times of hardship and reinvigorating feelings of friendship and goodwill. This is a trait shared with, and previously described for, the inhabitants of Saddle Arabia.’” “Very good, Dave. That’s much better.” “Ugh…” was all I could say. “You did very well,” said Twilight, putting a hoof to my shoulder. “Not without you,” I muttered, letting off a huge yawn. “That’s all right,” she said. “There’s no shame in tutoring if the work is done properly. Now, it’s very late, and I don’t want to send you out into the cold at such an hour, so why don’t you take the spare bed?” “Aw, now, Twi, I can’t impose-” “You won’t be imposing at all,” she said. “Now come along.” Levitating the candle in front of her, she headed up the stairs, while I followed, my limbs feeling like lead. She led me to the bedroom, where Spike was sound asleep in his basket, still snoring. Twilight directed me to the other bed, and I settled onto it, not even caring that I didn’t have pajamas to change into. When you’re awake far past your usual bedtime, you can fall asleep under any conditions. “Thanks for this, Twi,” I muttered. “You’re welcome,” said Twilight, kindly. “Good night.” “Night.” Twilight set the candle down on her bedside cabinet, settled under her own covers, and winked the light out with her magic. In a matter of seconds, I had already drifted off, the soft mattress feeling heavenly to my aching body. Friday, December 2 *** I awoke the next morning to see Owlowiscious staring me right in the face. “Gah!” I shouted, shifting back. The owl didn’t even stir, despite my spaz-out. “Shouldn’t you be asleep, since it’s daytime?” I asked. “Hoo.” “That’s what I thought.” “Ah! Good morning!” Both of us looked in the direction of the stairs. Twilight had been ascending, but stopped when she spotted us. “Morning, Twi. I was just asking Owlowiscious here why he’s not asleep.” “I keep telling him he needs his rest, but he’s an industrious little guy, aren’t you, Owlowiscious?” The owl flapped his wings and alighted onto her back by way of answer. “What time is it?” I asked. “8:30. Spike’s making breakfast right now. I hope you like pancakes.” “You kidding? I love pancakes, especially with peanut butter.” “You and Spike both,” said Twilight, with a playful roll of the eyes. “Come down when you’re ready.” She walked off downstairs and, after taking a few minutes to fully awaken and get up, I joined her. Down in the kitchen, Spike had already set the table for three, or, technically, four, since a bowl full of pet food had been set up at one corner, with Owlowiscious’ perch set there as a chair. I had to admire that, as the owl did seem like part of the family. The dragon was at the stove, wearing a chef’s hat and flipping pancakes in a sizzling frying pan. “Morning, Spike,” I said, as I entered. “Morning, Dave!” he replied. “Glad you could make it. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Spike’s Fabulous Flapjacks!” “They already smell great,” I said. “What’s the secret?” “A little extra something to spice ‘em up,” said Spike. “Watch this.” He flipped the current pancake into the air and, while it was still hanging, breathed a light stream of flames at it. The pancake turned a darker shade of brown and flopped back onto the pan, wherein it was flipped onto a plate of completed pancakes. “Gives it a nice smoky flavor,” he said. “Neat, huh?” “Very,” I said, though still surprised at how he’d pulled it off so easily. Once the pancakes were ready, Spike set three for each plate, with a side of strawberries. He put blueberry syrup on Twilight’s and slathered his and mine with peanut butter before distributing the plates around the table. As we sat down and tucked in, I couldn’t help noting that the dragon-fire did add a nice extra kick. “So, what have you been up to, beyond your assignment, Dave?” Twilight asked. “Well, earning myself a part-time job at Bon Bon’s, for one thing,” I said. “How nice! Hoping to earn a few extra bits?” “Yeah. Well, at least bits I can use a little more freely. The stipend I receive is more for household expenses and groceries, if you know what I mean.” “Of course. I think that’s a very smart idea for you.” All of a sudden, a thought struck me, and I smacked my forehead with my empty hand. “Oh, shoot! I forgot!” “What?” “Ironmane-” “Minister Ironmane, Dave,” Twilight corrected. “Er, sorry. Minister Ironmane comes by to deliver my weekly dues on Monday afternoons! I won’t be around to receive them when I start work!” “Don’t worry,” said Twilight. “Mail your essay to him, along with a letter explaining your change of schedule. I’m sure you two will work something out.” The momentary pang of dread ebbed away at her words. “Yeah. Yeah, that would do the trick. Thanks, Twi.” Twilight smiled. “I kinda figured you’d get a job at Sugarcube Corner,” said Spike, “considering you used to live there.” “I had thought about it, but wasn’t sure if they were hiring,” I said. “Besides, Moonlight’s gotten a job there already.” “Moonlight’s going to be working at Sugarcube Corner?” Twilight asked. “She told me a couple nights ago. Pinkie took her job hunting, and that was apparently the result.” “So the both of you are going to be working in Ponyville sweet shops?” asked Spike. “That’s a pretty weird coincidence.” “Tell me about it. I’m just hoping she’s up to it.” “Oh, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” said Twilight. “After all, if Pinkie Pie’s working with her, she’ll give her pointers. Besides, she seems pretty clever for a mare her age.” “Yeah, that’s true. She cleans better than anypony I know, besides.” “Trust me,” Spike muttered, leaning over to whisper to me, “you haven’t seen Twilight on weekends.” “I can hear you, Spike,” said Twilight, pointedly. Breakfast continued quietly after that, Spike, trying to look innocent. *** After thanking Twilight for her tutoring and hospitality, and Spike for breakfast, I left the library, making for home so that I could get a letter for Ironmane written. As I neared my house, however, I spied a rather unusual sight. Scootaloo and Dinky were packing up snow on one side of their yard, patting it into shape to create walls. Dinky would go to fetch more snow while Scootaloo continued to mold it. “What’s up, girls?” I called. The two looked up. “Hi, Dave!” said Dinky. “We’re making a fort!” Ohh, a snow fort. That should have been obvious. “Ahh, now I get it. Just for fun?” “Or in case a random snowball fight takes us by surprise,” said Scootaloo. “We already had yeti countermeasures,” said Dinky. “Now we just have to speed up construction!” Yeti countermeasures? The information Ironmane sent me about creatures in Equestria said that yetis did exist, but only in the caves of the Crystal Mountains in the north. Either one was wandering around, lost, or Dinky was just pretending. I would rather have settled for the latter, considering how territorial their bio said they were.. “How often does that happen around here?” I asked. “More than you think,” said Scootaloo, grimly. “At school, snowball fights are serious business.” “So we’re getting ahead of them with an early fort!” said Dinky. “We’ll call it Fort Dinkaloo!” “Er, Dinks,” said Scootaloo, looking embarrassed at such a name, “we talked about this. It’s Fort Hooves. That way,” she added, puffing her chest out, “we’re defending not only our honor, but the honor of Hooveses everywhere!” “Ohh, ok,” said Dinky. “Good call,” I said. “You know what would make your fort even better?” “What?” asked Scootaloo. “A flag.” “Ooh! Good idea! Dinky, add this to our To-Do List: make flag for Fort Hooves.” “All righty!” “Is your mom home, kids?” I asked. “I have something that’ll need to be mailed to Canterlot.” “She’s off on the morning mail run,” said Scootaloo. “You might be able to catch her, though.” “All right, I’ll see what I can do. Good luck on the fort.” “Thanks! Just wait. It’s gonna be the best in all of Ponyville!” “A super-fort!” said Dinky. Leaving them to their own devices, I went inside my house and, taking a fresh piece of paper, wrote out the following message: “Dear Minister, Here is my geography essay, in full. I hope it is to your liking and is within the guidelines you set. There is one thing that has come up that bears mentioning. I have recently acquired a part-time job here in Ponyville, with the consequence being that I will not be able to meet with you on Mondays at our usual time. Perhaps something on Sunday would better benefit the both of us, as I would not want you to be waiting out in the cold for me. Sincerely, David." I packed up the essay and the letter into their own envelopes, addressing them to Ironmane in Canterlot, and set out immediately to find Derpy, while Scootaloo was telling Dinky to ‘buff up the west side’ of the fort. *** Luckily, I located Derpy as she was going through Main Street, dressed in a thick blue coat along with her mailbag. “Hi, Dave!” she said. “How are you?” “Pretty good. You?” “Oh, I’m doing fine. The kids are busy with a snow fort, and Sparkler’s trying to keep up with ponies ordering or purchasing jewelry for Hearth’s Warming. I’m going to be especially swamped on the Eve, getting gifts delivered.” “But you’re not the only pony who delivers in Ponyville, are you?” “Of course not, but you can imagine how hectic it gets when even one of us has a lot to handle.” Now there was a grim thought. “So, what can I do for you?” Derpy asked. “I need this delivered to Canterlot, ASAP,” I said, handing her my mail for Ironmane. “Whoever handles deliveries from Ponyville to Canterlot, can you hand it off to them?” “Sure thing!” said Derpy. “That’s Silver Feather’s territory. He should still be at the post office. Rest assured he’ll have it sent soon.” “Great! You’re a life-saver, Derpy.” “Flatterer,” said Derpy, grinning. “Well, I’d better see to this, then. I’ll see you later, Dave.” “You bet. See ya, Derpy.” The mailmare flitted off to the post office, while I made off for home. I had barely gone three steps, however, before I saw Pinkie bounce past ahead of me. She was wearing her coat again, but was also carrying a set of ice skates, holding the laces in her teeth. Wondering where she could be off to, I called, “Hey, Pinkie!” However, she was already disappearing into the distance, and didn’t stop to respond, meaning she must not have heard me. I decided to just follow her, then. *** I tracked my pink pony pal to a frozen pond sitting in a snowy field, where a large, gnarled tree stood looming over it. In summer weather, I wagered this was a popular swimming spot. It was a shame I hadn’t found out about it until now, because it looked like a nice place for a picnic, or to just sit and read in the sun. On approaching the edge of the lake, Pinkie set her skates down, slipped her hooves into them, and moved onto the ice. From there...well, how can I describe it? For someone as exuberant and hyperactive as Pinkie, she seemed to shed all of that craziness as she began to skate. She glided across the frozen surface with grace belying her silly, happy-go-lucky nature. Her eyes were closed in blissful concentration as she skated, first on two hooves, then on four. She spun and twirled with the skill of a ballerina, her frizzy mane and tail whipping about with her movements. Once, she even backflipped and landed on her forehooves, sliding along the length of the lake on them. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she was skating as far back as a filly. At last she came to a stop on her hind legs, her forelegs held lightly aloft, a little smile on her face. She seemed completely at peace. “How was that, Davie?” she asked, aloud. I gave a start from where I stood. She knew I was here? “How did you know I’d followed you?” I asked. “You didn’t stop when I called.” “My left ear twitched as I was walking here,” she said, getting down on all fours. “That means I’m being followed.” “But why didn’t you say anything?” “I figured you wanted to surprise me, and nothing’s worse than a ruined surprise.” That...actually made sense. “Pinkie, you were amazing!” I said. “I know you said you could skate, but I never imagined it was anything like what you just did. That was...wow!” Pinkie beamed. “Thanks, Davie. I love winter, especially when I get to ice skate like this.” “Does anypony else ice skate?” “Oh, sure! Fluttershy and Rarity are fantastic at it! Applejack doesn’t like it too much, and I’ve never seen Rainbow Dash try it. Twilight still needs some practice.” Just then, she let out an excited gasp. “Hey! Why don’t you give it a try?” “Huh? Me?” I asked, starting to feel nervous. “Yeah! It’s fun!” “Oh, no-no-no,” I said, waving my hands in front of me. “I’m not coordinated at all for that kind of thing. I’ve got two left feet.” “So? I do too. All ponies do.” “That’s not what I meant. I mean I’ve got no grace or balance whatsoever.” “Aw, c’mon, Davie,” urged Pinkie. “Skating’s easy-peasy, puddin’ in the freezie.” Pudding in the what? “Besides,” I said, ignoring that little bit of what-the-heck, “I don’t have any skates.” “Oh ye of little faith,” said Pinkie, slyly. She skated over to the old tree hanging over the lake and dug around in its sizeable knothole. To my utter astonishment, she pulled out a set of ice skates, much bigger than her own. “Where did those come from?!” I asked, baffled. “I’ve got ice skates stashed all over Ponyville,” said Pinkie, matter-of-factly. “In case of ice skate emergencies.” ...But of course. “Here, try them on,” said Pinkie, skating over and handing them to me. I looked them over. To my disconcertion, they looked to be the exact size of my boots, so I couldn’t use ‘they won’t fit me’ as an excuse. How in the name of Tex Avery had she had the knowhow to make such an oddly-specific contingency, planting size-Dave skates at this very spot? Well, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I might as well give it a shot. There was a bare spot in the snow by the lake, so I sat there, pulled off my boots, and slipped on the skates. They were actually pretty comfortable. I heaved myself into a standing position, with the blades of the skates on the ice...and I immediately realized what a bad idea this was. I hadn’t even moved, and already I felt myself losing balance. I waved my arms wildly, trying to keep myself aloft as my legs slipped this way and that. “Whoa! Gah! Er...I don’t think I like this...Whoop!” My feet slipped out from beneath me, and I fell flat on my rear on the ice. Because that was exactly what I needed: a hard fall on my keister on a freezing surface. Pinkie helped me up. “You ok, Davie?” “Just fine,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “You’ll get the hang of it,” she encouraged. “It’s just like walking.” I seriously doubted that, but I started again just to humor her. My legs were still wobbling, but not as harshly as before. I tried a basic left-right-left, and this seemed to go well for a little bit. “See, Davie? You can do it!” said Pinkie. However, as I turned around, I felt my feet slipping again, and my legs began to flail wildly this way and that. It was like walking, all right: walking across a recently Swiffered floor! My heart was hammering in my chest. Each wobble, each tilt to the side, made me feel like I was going to crash face-first into the ice below. I didn’t fall this time, but what happened was even worse than that: I went speeding across the lake, straight toward the tree! “Oh, crud!” I yelled, throwing my hands out to block it off. With a rough, painful jolt, I was pushed away from the tree by my outstretched arms, but now I was going backwards, leaning far back as I did so. I flailed my arms to try and keep balanced, while Pinkie watched with an anxious face. “Yipe!” One of my feet slipped, putting me on only one skate as I continued to skid around, still tilting dangerously this way and that. This must have been how Bambi felt when he went skating for the first time with Thumper… At last, I was able to get my other leg down, but another swerve sent me shooting forwards again. My feet gave way, and I landed back on my rump, but I wasn’t stopping this time, and I was heading straight for Pinkie! “Uh oh!” Pinkie yelped. “Look out!” I shouted. *WHAM!* I slammed right into Pinkie, and we went shooting across the frozen surface. Her mane blocked my face, and I pushed it away, only to see us heading straight for the tree again. “AUUUGH!!” “YAAAAAH!!” *WHUMP!* All things considered, that collision could have gone way worse. Our slide into the tree had jammed Pinkie’s head into the knothole, her own halt stopping me from slamming into the tree trunk crotch-first. That would have been very unpleasant. When my equilibrium was restored, I noticed Pinkie in front of me, with her head stuck in the knothole. “Oh, shoot! Hang on, Pinkie!” I braced my feet against the trunk, wrapped my arms around Pinkie’s waist, and pushed against the tree as hard as I could. With a sudden surge, Pinkie came free, and we skidded backwards across the lake, this time ending up, backs first, in a snow drift. Everything had gone white and very cold real fast, but a shake from Pinkie sent the snow flying away. “Brr!” she said. “That was wild!” “You’re telling me,” I muttered. “Sorry, Pinkie, but ice skating just isn’t for me.” “It’s ok, Davie,” said Pinkie, tilting her head to gaze up at me. “Twilight was just as crash-tastic as you were, so nopony’s perfect at it the first time around.” From that angle, she looked oddly adorable looking up at me like that, like a curious puppy. I smiled down at her. “Thanks, Pinkie.” Pinkie smiled back, and the two of us made our way back to the bare patch, where my boots were waiting. Being back on the snow was like someone returning to the ground after an unbearable length of time in the air; it had never felt so wonderful. “There’s something I wanted to know, Davie,” said Pinkie, as I slipped my boots back on and she took her skates off. “Yeah?” “Was Lyra telling the truth when she said you’d be working at Bon Bon’s?” “Ah, right, that. Yes, she was. It’s for the winter, mind, and whenever else Bon Bon wants help.” “So Moonlight’s working at Sugarcube Corner, while you’re working at Bon Bon’s,” said Pinkie. “Crazy, isn’t it?” “Yeah, but I was kinda hoping you’d have wanted to work at the Corner too,” Pinkie said, pouting. “Do you not like it there anymore?” “Pinkie!” I said, surprised. “What on Earth would give you that idea? Of course I still like Sugarcube Corner. Bon Bon just had a job offer at exactly the time I needed it, so I took advantage of it. It’s nothing personal.” But Pinkie just broke into a giggle. “I know, silly-billy!” she said. “I was just teasing you!” She noogied the top of my head. I chuckled and ruffled her mane in turn. “Whaddya say we make a competition of it?” asked Pinkie. “A competition?” “Uh-huh! Whoever sells the most by Hearth’s Warming wins!” “Wins what?” Pinkie tapped her chin with her hoof in thought. “Hmm...Oh! I know! If you win, a fresh batch of our best cupcakes, free! If I win, a jumbo bag of self-serve candy, free!” “Those sound like fair terms,” I said, “though it’d be up to Bon Bon about that free candy thing. You’ll have to take it up with her.” “Okey-dokey-lokey! The competition will start when you start work. Deal?” She held out her hoof. “Deal!” I said, gripping it and shaking it. “May the best pony- Oopsie! I mean, best seller win.” “You bet.” “Well, I’d better get back to bakin’. Mrs. Cake said she’d show me her recipe for Hearth’s Warming Chocolate-filled Heart Cake.” “Sounds delicious. I’ll see you later, then, Pinkie.” “Yep! Bye, Davie!” She grabbed in a quick, instantaneous goodbye hug, then bounced off for Ponyville, her skates dangling from her mouth. I, for my part, trudged home, my pants wet from snow and ice, my legs throbbing, and my pulse still jumping. Still, I had to admit, it had been kinda fun, even if it was something I probably didn’t want to try again anytime soon. Saturday, December 3