Carol woke up with a headache. The clock ticking away on the wall showed it was past noon.
Carol stretched lazily, reeling in the memories of her sleep. She had dreamt of her childhood, of Meadow… she hated that. She shouldn’t have been thinking about him, after all these years.
She turned around in her bed.
Strange, she thought. She had almost forgotten how it began. How happy she was. But all that was long gone now. Meadow wasn’t the stallion she fell in love with.
She turned the other way.
The more she thought about it, the less she seemed to recall her dreams. The hurtful memories drove them out. At the opposite end of the room, Meadow was grinning back at her. That stupid picture. She hated to admit it, but Luna had asked a good question that previous night. Why did she still keep that trash around?
She turned her back to him again.
That cheating bastard. Meadow ruined everything. But she should have seen it coming. The way he talked to her. The way he looked at her. She should’ve noticed the flame was dying.
Was she blaming herself for what Meadow did?
Oh, no. No, no, no.
When she caught him with that… little bimbo… that he ‘seduced’ with her money. After thirty, forty years! He wasn’t even sorry. He dared curse her. He had the nerve to put it on her. To say she did not love him enough.
There was no excuse for it. Was she not good enough? Was she not good enough to talk to? To even mention how he felt? Hot-headed, insane, that is what he had always been. She should never have played nice with him.
But she did love him. What did that say about her?
How could she look into her children’s eyes after that? What kind of example did she give them? She couldn’t remember the last time she saw her children. Not even a card on Hearth’s Warming.
She was certain they would be fine. They would never become like their father.
Right?
Carol couldn’t think straight. Her anger swelled by the minute. Tossing, turning in her bed, she pulled the pillow over her head. The darkness helped her calm down.
The sounds of singing woke Carol from her dreamless sleep. It was getting late.
She stretched, again, cracking her old, tired bones. She was at peace, now.
She turned to look at the picture in the corner. Getting up, she took a deep breath. She walked for the commode without taking her eyes off Meadow. She knew what she must do.
She took the old picture out of the frame.
She threw on her warmest, blackest coat. She hadn’t done that in a while. She wasn’t used to leaving home long enough to need it. She walked out the door resolutely.
The spiral stairs outside, frozen over, were an accident waiting to happen. How terrible it would have been, Carol thought, if she had slipped now. She took her steps carefully.
Angels in the snow greeted her when she reached the bottom. How has nopony cleaned these up yet? She hurried past them quickly.
Carol may have been old, and perhaps her memory wasn’t what it used to be, but she knew where to go. The maze of the city couldn’t confuse her. All she had to do was follow the singing.
For one night, once a year, every year, all the mighty nobles of Canterlot cast off their haughty guises. They gathered together, in simple merriment, to share in their common appreciation of the new year. Ponies from throughout the realm also made their yearly pilgrimage to see great Canterlot, to meet the princesses, and to take their fantastic tales of the event back to their families. Bonfires burned in the sky, and a million bells provided the rhythm for their joyful singing.
Before the Palace of Canterlot, a golden staircase led to a massive podium. Carol had arrived at the heart of the city.
As the bright sky turned red, Princess Twilight Sparkle stepped onto the podium. The bells stood still. The children stopped scurrying. The crowd fell silent.
“Citizens of Equestria,” she began. “It is my honour to be standing here before you tonight.”
The crowd cheered.
“I am, just like all of you, excited for the new year. To see what it might bring. To see what I can do.” She leaned forward a little, looking behind her back for a moment. Then she tilted her head, putting a hoof to her mouth as if whispering to a friend. “And although the bureaucrats insist on my title of ‘princess’...” The crowd laughed. “I have never, for one moment, considered myself to be more than just another mare, looking to do her part to make the world a better place.”
She opened her mouth, taking a breath, but then closed it before saying a word. She scratched her head. When she spoke again, her voice sounded much less formal.
“It’s at this point in my speech that I was going to say how we’re all ponies, and how we all need to stick together. But that wouldn’t be true. Equestria is proud of its multicultural heritage. Ponies, griffins, buffaloes, donkeys, horses, and countless more species live together here in harmony.”
She stretched her neck, looking through the audience.
“Is that a changeling I see? Don’t be shy. Instead of saying that we’re all ponies, let me say what I know is undoubtedly true: that we are all friends.”
As the crowd once again erupted in applause, Carol couldn’t help but keep her eyes on the sky. The Sun still hasn’t gone completely. She didn’t remember it taking so long.
“Now,” Twilight Sparkle continued, “if I may introduce to you the Princesses of the Night and Day….”
Princess Celestia appeared at the top of the nearest tower. As she leapt from her place, gasps and cheerful whistles spread through the crowd. Princess Luna sprung from her own spire of the palace, dancing with her sister in the sky as the two glided gracefully onto the podium. The crowd applauded louder than ever before.
Celestia bowed before her subjects. Luna held her chin high, her eyes scanning the crowd. When her eyes met with Carol’s, Luna smiled. Then she, too, bowed deeply.
Twilight Sparkle continued her speech, stopping at proper in proper intervals to give an opportunity for her audience to cheer and laugh.
And Carol had enough. Enough of the noise, and the constant shoving and moving about. Enough of Luna. She turned and pushed out of the crowd.
Making her way through the wide, deserted streets of trampled snow and mud, she considered going back home. She has been just fine all these years. Why would she need to go through with this now?
But no. This time, she really meant it. She would look up at the dancing sky, and she would tear the picture for good. She has already failed once. She would not fail again.
She trudged through the untouched snow of a narrow alley. The steep mountainside towered above her. Her legs felt weak. She would not let that deter her. She put her hoof onto the highest rocky outcrop she could reach, beginning her ascent.
By the time she reached a proper height, the Sun had gone.
A small patch of a relatively level snowy slope looked out onto the palace and the podium; soon it would be the perfect box-seat from which to view the beginning of the new year. No others like it. Carol had to wonder why there was nopony else there.
She sat down into the snow. She reached into her coat, for the picture that had caused her so much joy and grief. Soon, it would all be over.
Her horn sparkled, and the photograph flew up before her. The sounds of applause rumbled in the city, echoing from the white walls. The Moon began its descent.
She turned the photo to its side, left edge up. The tear that almost reached Meadow’s neck – the mark of her first attempt – taunted her. Her magic pulsed along the tear, pulling softly back and forth, trying it, playing with it. But the tear didn’t grow.
It would be easy to rip the picture in two. It was just a piece of paper.
Carol had not even noticed how the Moon disappeared. Canterlot glowed; a bastion of light in the darkness that befell the land. Her own shining magic, focused on the neck of Meadow, held Carol’s attention.
When the Sun and the Moon began their dance, Carol had to look up. She had forgotten how beautiful it was.
This was the moment. The perfect ending. A new beginning. Carol clenched her teeth. She had to close her eyes. She has come full circle. She would do it.
She would tear it.
Rip it to pieces.
“Don’t.”
Carol jumped. Her magic died, and the picture fell into the snow.
“Meadow?” she asked. She rubbed her eyes.
The stallion stood not far from her, his black hair covered by a white coat that shimmered in the dancing celestial light.
“In the flesh,” Meadow replied.
As the dropped photograph floated up again, Carol turned the other way. “I do what I want. Leave me alone.”
Meadow took a step forward. Carol stepped farther.
“No,” Meadow said. “Don’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll regret it.”
Carol gaped. “Is that a threat?”
Meadow stepped up to her, and before she could react, he grabbed her weak leg.
“What are you doing? Let go.”
“No.”
“Let go of me!” she screamed. She tried to pull away, but the more she struggled, the more her leg hurt. “Let go. Let me go!”
With his other hoof, Meadow reached into his coat. After some searching – slowed by Carol’s fighting – he pulled out a photograph of his own.
Carol froze. Meadow let her leg loose.
In the photograph, a young stallion and mare shared their first kiss, entirely oblivious to the pegasus taking their picture. “I regretted it too,” Meadow said.
“What do you mean, you regretted it? Regretted what?” Carol took a closer look at his picture. Only now did she see. Down through the middle, where their lips met and he held her hoof, the picture had been torn in two. Now it was held together by transparent – and incredibly visible – tape. How could she miss that?
Carol didn’t know how Meadow got here, or what he hoped to accomplish. She didn’t care.
“Well, guess what,” she said. “I won’t.”
She turned her back to him, and her photo floated closer to her.
The insult! How dare he! What does he think?!
But she would show him. She would.
A flash of light blinded her for a moment.
The picture was still not torn.
Meadow stepped up beside Carol, and reached for her frail leg again, gently this time. He wasn’t looking in her eyes; his gaze was on her leg. Carol most definitely did not notice that detail.
Meadow rubbed the base of her hoof, massaging it where it hurt the most.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Carol looked at him. His gaze was still cast down.
“You’re… sorry.”
“I am sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“You ruined my life.”
Meadow looked up at her. Then down again.
“I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I really am.”
At an incautious moment, Meadow’s shaking hoof pressed a little harder than it should have. Carol hissed in pain.
“All these years,” she said, “and you still can’t do it right.”
“All these years…” Meadow sighed. “Look at our hooves. We have old pony hooves.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I was young and stupid, Carol. I can’t change what I did. I wish I’d known better.”
“Meadow…”
The stallion look up at her.
“Don’t you live in Cloudsdale?” Carol asked.
“I do.”
“So why are you here?”
Meadow shook his head lightly. “I had the strangest dream last night.”
Meadow let Carol’s hoof down again, reaching for the photograph floating beside her. She had completely forgotten about it. He plucked it from the air before tucking it into Carol’s inner pocket. Then he allowed himself a careful smile.
“Oh, Meadow.” As Carol’s tears began rolling down her cheeks, she extended her hooves to embrace the stallion. “Meadow, Meadow, why do you do this to me?”
Meadow put his hooves on her back. “Guess I’m still a little stupid.”
Carol managed to blink her tears away for a moment. Over Meadow’s shoulder, she could look up at the sky; there was the full Moon again, like an old friend winking cheekily back at her.
So it was that fair Carol and Shallow Meadow rekindled their spark of friendship.
And friends they stayed to the very end.
❄