“…again.”
BURP!
WHOOSH!
“Gah!”
…
…
“…again!”
BURP!
WHOOSH!
“Nngg…”
…
…
“…again.”
“Ugh…I’m all burped out.” The purple baby dragon groaned as he slumped forward, his cheeks taking on the same green hue as his spines. He couldn’t bring himself to look over at the three large bottles of ginger beer he had consumed earlier. In fact, he silently promised not to look at another carbonated beverage for a long, long time.
“This…isn’t working…” groaned an equally miserable young colt, for slightly different reasons. He was sprawled flat on the ground, his ears flat against his skull and his teeth showing in a grimace of fear.
The idea on paper seemed sensible, downright scientific even. What better way to get over one’s fear than to face it. And for Peppermill the chef, what better way to get over his aversion to fire than facing down a fire-breathing dragon? Of course, the dragon in question was Spike; and his flames, while not nearly the same as the raging inferno that haunted Peppermill’s dreams, was still enough to put the colt into a panic.
“I need a break Peppermill. And water. I think I can taste my breakfast…” The two young males trudged over to some trees that surrounded the open clearing they had been using for the ‘treatment’ (Peppermill’s choice of words, not Spike’s). Spike flopped down, leaning against a tree and rubbing his sore throat. Peppermill paced back and forth, his mind racing.
“Whoever…heard of…a cook that…is afraid…of fire?”” growled the colt. He had been spitting out this bitter mantra for a full week, and Spike was understandably concerned.
“Maybe this isn’t the right way to go about this. I really think we should talk to someone. Like, a professional. Or at least Twilight. You’d be surprised what she knows about phobias and stuff like that…”
“That…would take…too long.”
“Why are you in such a hurry about this? There‘s more to this than just cooking, isn’t it?” Spike asked, frowning, The colt came to a stop, and gazed at the dragon with dark, flashing eyes.
“The…Ponyville…Annual Campout.”
“Oh yeah, that’s coming up isn’t it? I just about forgot…”
“It’s…the only thing…Applebloom…and her friends…have been talking…about lately.” Peppermill sat down on the ground, his mouth a grim line. “This is…some sort…of sleepover…?”
“Calling the Annual Campout a sleepover is like calling a Pinkie Pie party a small get-together.” laughed Spike. “Every filly and colt in town looks forward to it. It’s a big all-day celebration capped off with a cookout and sleeping under the stars. It…is…awesome!”
“Cookout…” That single word, spoken with such dark emotion brought Spike out of his euphoria in a hurry. “As in…cooking over…a campfire.”
“Well yeah, I…oh…right…” It finally dawned on the dragon what was truly bothering Peppermill. The colt had been working on widening his “culinary scope” (once again, his words) in recent months, and he had taken every opportunity he could to try new foods. It seemed the young colt had a metabolism to rival Pinkie Pie, for no matter how much he seemed to consume he never seemed to gain an ounce.
However, one rather critical cooking method and it’s respective dishes had been steadily yet regrettably avoided. Ever since Peppermill’s life had been turned upside-down, inside-out and heaved out a bucking window (another example of Peppermill’s vocabulary, one that he now only used mentally ever since he got his mouth washed out with soap when Applejack had eavesdropped on a rant) by his older brother using fire as his medium, it had been a uphill struggle. Even lighting a match to light one of the older style stoves common in Ponyville was enough to send the colt into a panic.
And Dear Celestia, how he loathed himself after he regained his composure after each and every breakdown…
“Seriously Peppermill, you starting to scare me. Usually when Twi gets that twitch in her eye it’s enough to give me the shivers. And I know that being this hard on yourself isn’t healthy…” Peppermill blinked once, shaking himself out of his inner monologue-slash-tirade. He managed a apologetic look to his scaly friend before sinking into depression once again.
“I bet…he’s laughing…at me…right now.”
“Come on.” Spike stood up and began to jog towards town. When he noted Peppermill was eyeing him critically, the dragon motioned with a claw.
“Where…are we…going?”
“We are getting you proper help, whether you like it or not.”
***
The fact that Twilight Sparkle seemed suspiciously prepared for the arrival of her number one assistant and the young cook never entered Peppermill’s mind. The fact that she had her mane tied in a tight bun, sporting a pair of studious glasses, levitating a clipboard and wearing a happy grin did stick rather firmly however. She…looks…nice…with her mane…like that. he thought, mentally making note of the odd feeling he got upon seeing her like that for later study.
“You…planned this, didn’t you?” he said out loud, looking at Spike with a dark look.
“No, I just was able to manage one last message to Twi while we were on our way here.” replied Spike innocently. “Now, if you excuse me I have a date with some stomach medicine.” As Spike trudged his way to the medicine cabinet Peppermill suddenly felt himself enveloped in a violet-hued aura. He was lifted off the floor and neatly deposited onto a couch that he was certain had not been there when he came into the library a few moments earlier. When the aura faded he was laying on his back looking up at Twilight, who looked down at him with a mix of concern and excitement.
“There is no shame in admitting you are afraid of something Peppermill. In fact, you’d be amazed at just how many ponies suffer from pyrophobia. Of course in your case you have a legitimate fear thanks to what your brother did…” The grey colt wondered if Twilight had been spending a bit too much time studying Pinkie Pie, for she had seemingly developed the party pony’s rapid-fire speech style.
“Twilight…what exactly…is going on here?” While he might have been appreciative of the unicorn’s willingness to help, she seemed just a bit too…prepared for his liking. He accepted that organization was one of Twilight’s major skills, but this flew a red flag rather high in the colt’s mind. Sure enough, his reluctance to having his head shrunk threw a proverbial wrench into Twilight’s prattle.
“Well, you need some help and I’m…um…”
“How…did you know…I needed…or wanted…any help?”
“Err…magic?” The mare’s panicked glances towards the kitchen where Spike was frantically waving her into silence said volumes. Not bothering to hide his annoyance, the colt slid off the couch and stormed to the door. As he left he looked back over his shoulder at the mare and dragon.
“I…don’t want…any help. I can…do this…myself. I…have…to do this myself. I‘m not…going to let…him win!” And with that he slammed the door behind him. Silence followed once the reverberations of the door faded, and both Twilight and Spike sighed.
“Is that natural stubbornness, or did he pick that up from Applejack?” questioned Spike out loud.
“I think it might be a bit of both.” conceded the Element of Magic. “Either way, we need a new plan. I’m going to find Rarity, you see if Pinkie has any ideas.”
***
His mood as dark as his mane, Peppermill stomped down the street near the shopping district of Ponyville.
“Why couldn’t…Spike keep…his mouth….shut?” he grumbled. In the back of his mind he knew he had been short with Twilight and Spike. But he fully believed that this particular situation was something that he had to handle on his own. While he loved the Apple clan as his own surrogate family, and appreciated his new friends’ concern he felt this was something they shouldn’t get involved in.
Peppermill would admit afterwards that he did have an independent streak bred from learning his trade from his parents. For Peppermill, the idea of ‘too many cooks spoiled the broth’ were words to live by. Cooking didn’t work when everypony tried to offer their two bits on every single detail. A certain element of faith in the cook made things go smoothly, regardless of age or maturity.
“Just…because I’m…a colt…doesn’t mean…I need to…be babied.” Peppermill scowled at the ground as he stalked onwards, not realizing where he was going. It was only when he heard the noise that he stopped and looked up. He cocked his head, trying to track the source of what sounded like a high buzzing coming closer and closer. He turned his head slightly, noting that he had found himself just outside Sugarcube Corner. Before the gingerbread building could come fully into his vision, the sound raised in pitch and clearly was coming closer. A sudden, overpowering urge to run managed to get one foreleg to lift, before…
eeeeEEEEEEEEEEWHAM!!!
Peppermill had half expecting a snootful of dirt, after having been tackled into the ground by a pink blur. But somehow in mid-pounce he had been positioned in such a way that he instead had a faceful of pink, cotton candy scented mane. The fact that the mane was attached to a face that currently held a pair of baby blue eyes that were generating enough tears to spout twin waterfalls filled the colt with mixed emotions.
“Oh poor little Peppy! It’s so sad, all the wonderful, scrumptious fire-kissed treats you are missing out on!” The colt struggled fruitlessly in the grasp of the bubblegum pink mare as she wailed. “It’s all that meany mean pants Saltpeter’s fault! He turned you against toasted marshmallows…”
…
…
…
“…and?” prodded Peppermill through gritted teeth.
“And?” repeated Pinkie, the very slightest hint of a frown on her face.
“Just…marshmallows?”
“Um…drat…” The colt plopped with a damp splat onto the ground as Pinkie frantically peered at her outstretched forelegs. He noted that there were blue smears all over them, and the realization clicked in his head.
“You had…to write…it down?!”
“Well you got here so fast and I was in the middle of making cupcakes. I didn’t have a pen so I had to use food coloring. But give me a minute and I can…hey!” Peppermill had managed to pull himself out of the muddy ground’s grip and took off at a rage-fuelled gallop. Pinkie Pie watched him go, gave a half-hearted lick of her forearm, then brightened.
“DASHIE!” she yelled, racing off in a random direction.
***
Somehow Peppermill’s haze of anger had sent him back to the clearing where he and Spike had been earlier that day. The memory of that debacle only pushed the colt over the edge, and he took out his frustration of some trees. While not nearly as athletic as any of the Apple clan, he was pleased to see the amount of leaves and twigs raining down as he viciously kicked out with his hind legs.
The fact that he imagined his older brother’s evil grin on every trunk helped considerably.
He was so engrossed in his attack that he never noticed, for the second time that day, the sound of something coming at him high and fast. And instead of being slammed into the ground he found himself carried up so high so quickly it took his breath away. He was immensely glad that he recognized the strong forelegs of light blue holding him tight and a rainbow mane fluttering out of the corner of his eye.
“Rainbow…Dash?” he rasped, his voice lost in the wind. He realized that she was more intent on reaching her destination than conversation, so all he could do was enjoy the ride. Given Dash’s tendency to speed at the best of times it didn’t take long to arrive at her apparent destination. He made out a darker section of woodland, and a familiar yellow filly with a bright red mane and saddlebag standing on the path leading into the forest proper.
With a flick of her wings, the Pegasus slowed their advance and lowered their altitude until she could release the colt safely. Both Peppermill and Rainbow Dash touched down onto solid earth at the same time, though she did it with a bit more grace than the Earth pony. Once he had picked himself out of the dirt, he gazed at Applebloom evenly.
“A simple…’come meet…me here’…would of…worked.”
“Oh please,” came the answer from Rainbow Dash. “This way is much cooler.”
“Besides,” drawled Applebloom, “getting you here quick gives you less time to come up with a reason to go.”
“Your logic…is flawless…” muttered Peppermill sarcastically.
“Look, ‘ answered the filly, “first off I wanna apologize fer not realizin’ you might be afraid of fahr…”
“I’m…already not…liking where…this conversation…is going.”
“Second, ah think you’re making a big mistake trying to do this all on yer own…”
“It…doesn’t concern…anypony but me…”
“Uh, wrong…” quipped Rainbow. “Your friends are going to get involved whether you like it or not…”
“You need help Peppermill.” Applebloom held the colt’s gaze.
“I’m not…going to give…him the satisfaction…” began Peppermill crossly. But he found himself being cut off by Rainbow, who leapt up and over him to look him square in the eye.
“He who?”
“Yeah, Twilight said you were talking about a ‘him’…” agreed Applebloom. The colt glared at the two female ponies.
“I’ll only…answer if…you do the…same for me. How…in the heck…did you…hear about this…so quickly?”
“Heh, news gets around fast when it’s a small town.” grinned Rainbow. “Plus being the fastest flier in Equestria makes passing along messages a snap.” The grey colt grumbled for a moment or two, then gave a defeated sigh.
“I always…have the same…vision whenever…I see a flame: my…my brother standing…over me as…the restaurant burns. And…laughing…” Peppermill stared at his hooves, his heart heavy. He suspected that one day he might have to make this painful admittance, though perhaps not out in the middle of no where in front of a rather creepy look forest with a brash Pegasus and a filly only a year or two younger than him.
Within moments his misery turned to slight embarrassment as he found himself sandwiched in a hug between the mare and the filly. He gruffly squirmed out of their collective grasp, resulting in a slight chuckle from the mare and a full giggle from the filly.
“Like you didn’t enjoy that just a little…” snickered Rainbow in his ear, much to his mortification.
“All right,” Applebloom cleared her throat. “Enough of this. It’s time ah gave you this.” The filly reached into he saddlebag and removed a small bottle with her teeth. She set it upon the ground with great reverence and looked at Peppermill expectantly.
“Okay…I’ll bite…what is it?”
“I told Zecora about you and yer troubles. She would of come and given this to you herself but she was busy. She told me this here potion can take even the greatest of fears and wipe them clean from yer mahnd.”
“She actually came through? Twilight was going on about how a potion couldn’t do that.”
“It’s funny. I kinda thought that too. But Zecora said this would do the trick. Well, come on Peppermill, try it…”
“A potion…that can cure…fears…” The grey colt was not sure what to think of this statement. He grabbed at the bottle between his fore hooves and pulled the stopper with his teeth. A potent aroma wafted from the tiny vial, which made the mare and filly blink in surprise.
“Geeze, what the heck is in that?” demanded Rainbow.
“Dunno.” admitted Applebloom wrinkling her nose. Mare and filly both cringed ever so slightly when Peppermill tipped the vial and let it’s contents slide down his throat. His mouth twitched, then he glanced at his friends.
“I don’t…feel any…different.”
“Maybe it’s one of them slow-actin’ potions.” offered Applebloom.
“Should we…I dunno…test it or something?” questioned Rainbow Dash.
“Hmmm…I think…I know….just the place…to test this…” Peppermill said, his expression unreadable.
***
Somehow the fact that the Ponyville Annual Campout was the very next day after Peppermill had received and imbibed the healing draught never entered Applebloom’s mind. All that really mattered was that she was going to enjoy the day with all of her friends, including her honorary brother Peppermill.
Despite her asking on a constant basis throughout the day in between all of the various activities, Peppermill continued to give her the same answer: ‘we’ll wait…until suppertime’. Until then she, the other Crusaders and the colt enjoyed the day. But the yellow filly couldn’t stop the nagging concern as the sun began to set late in the day.
As the voracious colts and fillies piled into the virtual banquet prepared by the older volunteers, Applebloom lost track of Peppermill in the mob. More than once she almost upset her plate of food trying to spot the colt. Eventually she resigned to her meal, sitting with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo where two tents were set up. As she ate she kept herself amused by watching the unicorn and Pegasus debate (or argue, to be perfectly frank) how the sleeping arrangements would be set.
“Look, it really simple. There are two tents and four of us. Two to a tent.” explained Scootaloo.
“But…it’s three girls and a boy. That…that can’t be right…” mumbled Sweetie, squirming.
“We out number him. And besides I highly doubt Peppermill would try anything. Seriously, I think you’ve been reading too many of those novels you sneak out of Rarity’s room. I’m pretty sure they are made up anyways…” grumbled Scootaloo.
“So who is gonna share a tent with Peppermill?” asked Applebloom.
“Me!” exclaimed Sweetie Belle.
“No, me!” snapped Scootaloo.
“Me!”
“Me!!”
“Me!!!”
“Listen girls, have any of you actually seen Peppermill lately? I didn’t see him when everypony was dishing up.”
“Um…I think he was one of the first to get something to eat.” admitted Sweetie.
“I’m pretty sure I saw him over by the big firepit they were using. Whatever that stuff he got from Zecora must of worked.” piped up Scootaloo.
“Hmm…” Applebloom set her plate aside and headed in the direction indicated. But she then stopped, went back to where her friends were about to go back into their shouting match, leaned in and spoke in a firm tone.
“And fer the record Peppermill is sharing mah tent…got it?”
“Um…right.” managed Scootaloo, who had made the mistake of looking the filly in the eye when she spoke. The Pegasus might have been the tomcolt of the group, but even she knew better than to cross the apple filly when she used that tone of voice. Sweetie Belle simply nodded frantically. Satisfied, Applebloom went in search of the colt.
***
Night came rather quickly during this time of year, and it wasn’t long before Applebloom could see more and more small fires being lit in the field where the campout was held. While there was still enough sunlight to see by, she managed to reach where one of the main campfires was situated, where any of the ponies taking part in the campout could commune and enjoy a toasted marshmallow or five. And sure enough, kneeling in the grass staring into the flickering flames was Peppermill.
“There you are…” said Applebloom as she knelt down beside the colt, who gave her a nod of acknowledgement. “How are ya doing?”
“Well…the tremors…aren’t so bad…” he began, but he clamped his mouth shut in a grin at the dark look he received. “I’m kidding…”
“You ain’t nearly as funny as you think you are…” grumbled Applebloom.
“In all seriousness…it’s not nearly…as bad…as I’ve been. The urge…to run…is there but…not enough…to overwhelm me.”
“Maybe that potion is one of them ‘take it every time’ sort of things, like medicine…”
“It’s not…bad…for…clove oil.”
“Reckon so…wait, what?”
“Clove oil…you know…oil made from cloves. They use…it in…breath fresheners.”
“What in tarnation are you talkin’ about?”
“The potion…that Zecora made. It’s nothing but…clove oil.” Applebloom puzzled over this for a moment, then gave a look of alarm at her friend.
“But, if that potion didn’t do anything, then how…?”
“First off…I knew it…was just…clove oil…the moment I…opened the bottle. I…drank it…just to keep you…and Dash from…getting upset. I admit…I was puzzled…why your friend…would give me…clove oil, but…I think I know…why.” Peppermill placed a hoof on Applebloom’s shoulder, seeing she was getting more and more agitated.
“Surely…you must of…heard stories…about supposed…magic potions…that turned out…to be fake. It always…turned out….the potion…was never needed. That the….bravery or…whatever was…inside them…the whole time. Well, I think…that was…the case…with me.” Peppermill looked into the fire as the flamed dances and sparked.
“I told…you about the…nightmares…about my brother. Well, I…didn’t mention…how he also…claimed no pony…would help me…unless they…wanted something from me. That they…only would help…me for what…I could give them, not…out of…kindness.”
“Horseapples!” snapped Applebloom. “That’s a lie!”
“I know…at least…I know now.” sighed Peppermill. “I guess…I should of…know better to…believe my brother…even in a dream. But I did…until it finally…hit me after you…gave me…the ‘potion’.”
“Ah still don’t get it…”
“A perfect stranger…willing to…give me help. Even if…the help…was nothing more…than a subtle…hint to…have some…faith in…my friends. You wanted…to help me…because you cared…and not…because…you wanted something…from me. I…apologize…for thinking…that way.” Peppermill put on his best apologetic face, and was rewarded by a tight hug from the filly.
CRACK!
“Gah!” yelped Peppermill as a log settled into the flames, making him jump. Applebloom looked at him in concern.
“I’m…fine. I’m not…completely cured. But…I’ll get better.”
“Well, you’ll have a whole year to get better.” smiled Applebloom. “Come on, we should head to our tents while we can still see our hooves in front of our faces.”
“Sure…” responded the colt, but once he was on his hooves he looked thoughtful. “One thing…”
“Hmm?”
“Who…am I sharing…a tent with?”
FIN