Melon Rind/Firefly - by Melon Rind's Author
His hoofsteps reverberated off the towering crystals, turned against the stalactites hanging from the far-off ceiling and curled around the pocks and crevices in the stone walls. Firefly ruffled his wings, adjusting the panniers strapped around his midsection. His ears swiveled to catch the echoes. He thought he could barely make out another set of hooves clicking through the caves, independent of his own echoes. It could just have been his own pulse thrumming through his ears, though. Since he had slipped away from the tour group his heart had been under the delusion that he was flying a marathon.
He came to a fork. Both passages were nearly the same as far as he could see, jagged rock and luminous crystal. He turned to face the way he had come from. He slid the dark goggles on his forehead over his gold eyes, and suddenly a trail of mist marked the path where he had trod. His chest felt a little looser when he saw it. The charm was working well. The cave network itself was already a complex maze, and the magic crystals sprouting from the stone turned even each individual cavern into a winding headache, so he had known he would need a breadcrumb trail to let him find his way back. For all that the concept was simple, the charm itself had been tricky to design, and he'd run into trouble with it a few times in the testing stages. The mist had only lasted a few minutes, or it had been in the visible spectrum, or his goggles hadn't been able to pick it up. He had already checked it four times on his way down, but he still had difficulty shaking the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Was breaking laws supposed to be this stressful?
He looked back to the fork. Any maps that might exist were hidden in the castle library out of public sight, and the books were all annoyingly vague about the caverns' structure. “Deep” was the most description they ever granted the subject. One had gone for “labyrinthine” instead. He didn't hold it against the authors—they were writing histories, not atlases—but he didn't know how long he had before the tour guide did a headcount and realized he had lost one pony. Maybe Firefly would get lucky, and the guide would miscount. He did have a pretty large group—more than thirty ponies. With the first royal wedding in generations coming up in less than a week, ponies and foreigners from all over were flooding Canterlot. One less pegasus might not be noticed.
Dawdling there wouldn't do him any good either, though. He decided on the left path, which seemed to slant down slightly more, and nearly trotted right into a crystal showing his distorted reflection. His reflection startled at seeing him and reflexively swung the hammer gripped in her mouth.
The anti-Crusader charm he always kept hidden in his feathers automatically reacted to the fast-approaching object. More than half of Firefly's magic drained into it to fuel the teleportation spell, and in the next blink he was standing ten feet away, watching the earth mare catch her swing.
Firefly's mind finally caught up. He threw himself backwards, his wings reaching for the absent sky, and fled back the way he had come, following the mist trail wavering on the ground. A pony, there shouldn't have been ponies down there, and she'd seen him--
A golden shield spell flickered into existence around him, followed by a dull thunk from behind as something impacted it. The shield came from a charm on his other wing, another product of his status as a regular victim of the Cutie Mark Crusaders' accidents. The second massive magic drain in as many seconds exhausted him completely. His wings beat down and then would not rise for the next flap. When he fell to the ground his legs collapsed under him.
“What was that?” His aggressor sounded utterly baffled. Even lifting his head off the ground was beyond him in that state, so he could only listen as she approached. “Oh hay, you're not moving. Are you dead? I didn't just kill a pony, you had better still be-- oh, good, you're hyperventilating.” A pause, and when she spoke again her voice was muffled. “Hate it when ponies die on me. Always takes so long to clean up.”
Strength was slowly returning to his limbs. He might be able to twitch a hoof now, if he tried hard enough. A unicorn would have recovered enough to walk by then, but pegasus bodies simply weren't designed to use magic in sudden spurts the way unicorns did. Firefly estimated another three minutes before he could even sit up.
That was what he was there for, ironically. The caves in Canterlot Mountain were the only place in the world to find objects capable of storing magic. He didn't know why the crystals here could do that, but he knew that they could, and that the ones deeper down were more efficient. Considering the princess had shut the mine down and banned trading of the crystals centuries ago, it hadn't been easy even to dig up that much information. If he could figure out how to use them, he could have them constantly store the excess magic his body generated but never used and let his charms draw on that supply, instead of tearing the magic directly out of him as they did now.
“I didn't think there would be anyone else down here,” Firefly muttered into the rocky floor. At least she wasn't a guard. She had probably just as much permission to be there as Firefly did.
Her hoofsteps stopped for a second. “Well, your mommy and daddy were wrong.” she said, her voice muffled. She sounded like he had been the one to launch an unprovoked attack with a hammer on her. “You're not a special little snowflake after all. Do you need help getting up, or can you manage that all by yourself?”
“I'll be able to stand in a minute.” Cordially he added, “I'm Firefly.”
A dark yellow hoof landed near his cheek. “So that's what that bug on your flank is. Thought it was a doorknob.”
“How could you possibly--” He cut himself off, took a breath, then went on, calmer, “I'm making an effort to overlook the fact that you just threw a hammer at me, but you're not making this easy. And my cutie mark is a scarab, if you please.”
“Obviously a dung beetle's much better than a firefly,” said the mare.
Firefly hauled himself into a sitting position. His legs trembled at the strain, but they didn't give out again.
He got his first good luck at the mare. She was... Firefly usually tried not to judge a pony's appearance, but even if he hadn't been feeling particularly uncharitable towards her it would have been difficult to ignore just how thuggish she looked. Her coat was a muddy yellow color, her tail was cut nearly to the bone, her face was heavy and blocky. Even her cutie mark was jarring, as a black anvil and hammer set against a much lighter palette. But her most unpleasant feature was her expression, which brought up all the memories Firefly didn't care for from his school days.
“You at least owe me a name,” he said. The mare wasn't even looking at him, too preoccupied with tucking the hammer clenched between her teeth beneath the strap on her panniers. “An apology would be better, but my hopes for that ever happening aren't optimistically high.”
She finished putting her weapon away and glanced back at him. “I don't owe you anything.”
“You threw a hammer at me,” Firefly pointed out for the second time. It bore repeating. “That's not even an actual projectile!”
“Well you shouldn't have surprised me! What kind of pegasus can teleport?”
“Any pegasus who wants to,” Firefly snapped. “Whose first reaction to someone flying away is to throw a hammer at them?”
He had to lean back when she shoved her muzzle far too close to his. “Mine. It's my first reaction, and I wouldn't change it if I could. Anything else you can't whine about on your own, or am I allowed to leave now?”
Firefly gestured expansively to the side with his foreleg. “You have my permission.”
She snorted in his face. As she turned away, what little tail she had flicked him across the muzzle, but with ease of experience he ignored the natural temptation to bite it and pull. Bullies only ever used that trick when they wanted to claim self defense afterwards.
She started towards the right path in the fork, but suddenly a cacophonous sound rang through the cave. The mare stopped in her tracks. Firefly's eyes narrowed, and his ears pricked up, turning to follow the echoes. The sound was so distorted that it took a moment for him to identify it.
It took minutes for the anguished scream to die away. “Some idiot's gotten lost,” the mare commented.
Firefly ignored her. “Where...?”
“Sounds like she's down this way.” The mare nodded in the direction she had come from. “You gonna to fly to your damsel in distress?”
That got his attention. He stared at her, more disgusted than he had ever been in his life. “You aren't going to help her.”
“It's her own fault she didn't bring a compass or trail markers,” the mare said airily. “Anyway, she only needs one knight in shining armor, and I've got more important things to do.”
She vanished down the path Firefly had chosen not to take, whistling quietly.
Fismits - by Firefly's Author
Firefly sighed. Plate Pauldron was late, as usual.
He swirled the ice in his tumbler, reflections from him bright orange hoof provided the only color left in the glass. The gesture exposed scars that scored his coat on the inside of his leg. He absentmindedly placed his hoof frog-side down on the table, reducing the visibility of the marks.
Feeling self conscious, he glanced over his shoulder to see if his wings were presentable. They were, minimally so. A few secondaries didn’t lie quite flat. Still, he didn’t want to be caught preening in public when Paulie and his friends arrived. He hated the whole cooler than thou attitude some pegasi wore like second skin. He would rather look like a shabby vagrant than be mistaken for that kind of stallion. He also noticed bright wisps of his fire-red mane as he moved his head.
At least you could've looked in the mirror before trotting out the door! he thought to himself. Another stellar start to a blind date on a Friday night. Good going, Casaneighva!
The bar itself was barely occupied. It was early yet, but Firefly had an early shift in the morning. An unforeseen low front was coming in off the Everfree. The thought of spending the morning alone with the weather brigade boss, Rainbow Dash, soured his stomach.
A commotion at the entrance caught his attention. He stood as Paulie finally trotted up to his table, followed at a slower pace by a short, heavyset earth pony mare. She looked like what he imagined a pony left in a dungeon way too long would look like: her coat a faded dirty yellow, a washed out green mane, and tail that looked as if they had been hacked short with a machete. To cap it all off, she sported an expression on her muzzle that clearly showed both foreboding and disappointment in equal measures.
“You didn’t say he was a pegasus,” she commented in a low voice full of gravel.
“I didn’t?” said Paulie as if surprised that he hadn’t. “Don’t worry.” He smiled greasily. “He’s kind of low key for a pegasus stallion.” He winked at her. “That’s kind of why I thought I’d introduce the two of you.”
Resentful yellow eyes probed into Firefly’s golden irises.
“Lemon... uh, I mean Melon Rind here, is the sister of a friend of mine. She’s visiting from Canterlot, here to do some custom work for Princess Twilight’s new guard detachment. She’s a blacksmith. Isn’t that fascinating?”
Firefly was at a loss as to how to respond. He had no interest in smithing, other than the aspects of it related to alchemy. The silence stretched on a bit too long.
The mare sighed. “Let’s get this over with,” she rasped. Without another word she sat down in the booth as far as she could from the pegasus.
Firefly finally found his voice. “Where’s Tour deForce?”
“Couldn’t make it.” Paulie grinned sheepishly. “Come to think of it, I’ve got a few things I need to take care of myself. I’m sure you two won’t mind if I just leave you to get to know each other!”
He took the utter silence from the booth as assent, and moved back a step. “Great!” He waved a hoof. “Tootles!” Spinning on his rear hooves he hightailed for the exit.
Firefly’s quick glance across the table showed that Paulie’s abrupt exit hadn’t improved the mare’s mood, either. There was no mistaking the look of pure hatred she gave the departing stallion. Once Plate Pauldron was out the door, she turned a lidded gaze onto Firefly.
Yeah, thought Firefly. This is just great!
The two ponies stared at each other.
Melon gritted her teeth. Why do you keep letting yourself get talked into these disasters? Better cut him off at the pass, before he ends up wasting any more of my wonderful life droning on about those stupid stunt flyers. She leaned forward.
“I have no interest in the...” she began.
“... Wonderbolts!” he finished for her. The interruption left her feeling more than a little annoyed. However the stallion’s tone had been more amused than abrasive.
His fiddled with his empty drink glass. “You’re not the first earth pony mare Paulie’s introduced to me who started the conversation that way.” He blew air through his lips while keeping his eyes on his empty glass. “This is mostly an earth pony town after all.”
Embarrassment took some of the edge off of her anger. She crossed her forelegs. “So I hear.”
“If it’s any consolation,” he said with a tentative grin, “I don’t much care for them either.”
Her eyebrows rose. Well. This is new!
The stallion’s eyebrows rose. He leaned forward.
“Look, Paulie means well,” he said, “even if he hasn’t quite mastered the art of introducing ponies to each other.” He held out a hoof. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss Rind.”
She glanced down at the orange limb. Noticing the jagged scars on his pelt, she hesitated a moment before proffering her own.
His ears drooped as he pulled the limb slowly back. “They’re scars,” he said softly. “I’m not contagious.”
Melon felt her face grew hot. “I wasn’t repelled, really!” she blurted out. “It’s just that I know scars when I see them!” She raised her own right forelimb to the light, showing multiple angry red lines and bald patches in her yellow coat.
She shook his hoof in greeting. “Pleasure’s mine.”
She bared teeth in what she hoped was a grin. “So, how in the world does a pegasus get scars like that?”
The stallions’ eyebrows rose. She again felt the heat of embarrassment. “I mean, you rarely see a pegasus blacksmith!” she added breathlessly. “They just typically don’t have the upper body strength needed.” She winced internally. This guy’s gonna think I’m some sort of specieist!
“I got these scars practicing magic,” he said laconically.
“As if a pegasus can do magic!” Melon heard her voice speak and was already cringing by the time her brain finally caught up with her treasonous mouth. Her ears drooped as she sighed and waited for the stallion’s reaction. I fully deserve whatever he dishes out! She was too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
A dry chuckle caused her to look up. “I’ve had that reaction before, too! But even pegassi can do magic, given the right tools,” he lifted his other foreleg showing similar scars on its pelt, “although there can be... complications.”
She raised her own left foreleg showing more of her own scars. “Complications? We smiths just call them artistic license.”
“Really?” His smile widened. “So, tell me about your art.”
Melon straightened up, her mood improving for the first time that evening. She launched into a description of metalworking while taking a closer look at the stallion. He’s definitely different! she thought. And earnest. And not too shabby looking!
Firefly wasn’t sure whether to be amused or appalled. The mare was disarmingly honest and straightforward in her opinions. She seemed like a different pony as soon as she started talking him about her trade, her discourse punctuated with shy little grins that made her look sweet. He grinned inwardly. A disarming armorer! The thought made him snort.
Melon’s smiled faded. “Did I say something amusing?” She leaned back from the table, her ears drooping.
“No!” his own grin disappeared. He shook his head. “I mean, yes! Er, I mean I what you said made me think of something funny.”
Her eyes narrowed over compressed lips.
You blew it, idiot! His withers slumped. “I meant that in a good way... and yes, I was paying attention.” She did not appear convinced. “It’s just, sometimes, I get these thoughts out of the blue.”
Her expression softened. “What do you know, I do that too.” She grinned ruefully. “I love smithing partly because it doesn’t involve much talking. Sometimes I’m working a piece in front of a customer, and I realize I’ve been thinking out loud the entire time! It’s gotten me into trouble before, especially on jobs like these.”
“Jobs like what?”
“Doing custom armor plate fittings in the field.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad!”
“Granted. But at least you don’t have to spend your whole workday pandering to a bunch of hot-shot flyers, each one jabbering away about how they're Celestia’s gift to ponydom!”
He flapped a wing lightly, making her eyes widen.
“No offense!” The shock on her face made him laugh out loud.
“None taken! I work for the weather brigade. I know exactly what you mean!” She blushed brightly, making him laugh again.
Time to change subjects! He called to a passing waiter. “Another, please, and a hard Apple cider for the lady.”
“Why do you think a lady like me would like hard cider?
“You’re a blacksmith, and an earth pony.” He winked. “I figure you can handle it!”
She stuck out her tongue, and pointed at his empty glass. “So what are you drinking? Lemonaid?”
He nodded mock seriously. “I learned my lesson at the welcome party Pinkie Pie threw me when I moved here.” He suddenly scanned the room. “You weren’t approached by a rather hyper pink earth mare with a frizzy pink mane, were you?”
Her gaze turned inwards. “Not that I recall.”
He sighed in relief. “Oh, good. If you’re in Ponyville for more than a day or two she’ll find you. Just remember, you’ve been warned.”
Her laugh was unexpectedly musical. “I’ll watch my step!”
They paused as the waiter delivered their drinks. She examined the amber contents of hers.
“I’ve heard so much about the Apples’ famous cider. I’m distantly related. It hadn’t occurred to me that I could just go to a local bar and give a try.” She raised her glass in a silent toast. He clinked his to hers, and they both took a sip.
Her eyes shot wide open. “Hoooo-wee!”
Firefly chuckled. “Ayyyup! My boss goes gaga over the stuff! I’ve heard her friends make sure she never gets her hooves on too much of it.”
Melon straightened up. “Omigosh! Your boss is Rainbow Dash! The element bearer!”
“Yes, she sure is.” He put his glass down, expression neutral.
A look of concern crossed her face. “Something tells me you aren’t exactly overjoyed about it.”
He flicked an ear. What the hay! She’s just visiting anyway. He looked her in the eye. “Dash is pretty competitive, even for a pegasus. She pushes everypony hard, including herself. But, despite having another grounder as a best friends, she seems incapable of understanding that not all pegasi aspire to become ace flyers.”
“Grounder?”
“A pegasus that prefers living on the ground instead of in the clouds. One of the other element bearers, Fluttershy, is like me. She lives in a house near Ponyville. I have an apartment down the street I share with two unicorn stallions.”
“Oh? Why unicorns?”
He sighed. In for a bit...
“I’ve always been interested in magic since I was a foal. In Cloudsdale I saw unicorns do large scale industrial magic in the factories, so I decided that I wanted to do magic myself. In school, I found out how enchanted objects and alchemy let anypony do magic, and that’s all I’ve ever really wanted to do since.”
“Anypony?”
“Uh-huh, anypony! Or do you think some unicorn hiding in the closet casts a spell every time somepony turns on a glowlight or uses a kitchen appliance?”
“Everypony uses magical appliances every day. I guess I hadn’t put much thought to how they worked.”
He grinned. “Well, I do. I just work with more powerful spell substrates and control objects. The only thing I can’t do is generate a mana field like a unicorn does.”
She nodded, but he wasn’t sure if it was just out of politeness.
“So how come you ended up in Ponyville’s weather brigade?”
He scratched the back of his head. “Well. My parents weren’t too hot on the whole magic thing They wanted me to join the family sleet business. So I went to weather school and got pretty good grades, until finally I graduated and came here to join the brigade.”
“Were you peeved to have been sent to such a small town?”
“Not at all! I like it here. I'm free to learn about magic, and have access to a whole bunch of magic practitioners.” He grinned wolfishly. “But the only one amongst them even mildly interested in teaching magic is Princess Twilight.”
Melon’s jaw dropped. “You’ve met the Princess?!”
He nodded. “I see her in the castle library all the time. She’s real eager to discuss magic.” He grinned sheepishly. “But then she’s so far ahead of me that her explanations often go straight over my head. Still, she tries.”
“You’re not just pulling my leg?”
He shook his head. “Hey, this is a small kingdom! Live here for a while and you’re likely to meet pretty much everypony!”
She nodded, deep in thought.
“What about you?” he asked. “Didn’t you say you were related to the Apples?”
“Distantly. Our families split a few hundred years ago. Our branch are not so fond of digging in the dirt, though. We tend to be crafts-ponies. We’re a pretty quiet bunch, comparatively.”
A noise caused them both to look towards the entrance. Plate Pauldron approached, looking both pleased and puzzled. “I just knew you two would hit it off!” He squeezed-in next to Melon Rind. “So how was your evening?”
“It was...” began Firefly raising an eyebrow.
“... pleasantly quiet,” finished Melon with a grin.
Paulie looked confused for moment. But the smiles on their muzzles proved contagious.
Firefly looked at the clock in surprise. “Past ten already? I’ve got to get up before dawn tomorrow.” He turned to the mare. “Hey, it was a blast meeting you, Melon.”
“Really?!" Her eyes widened. "I mean, the pleasure was mine!” she corrected with a cough.
“Really!” he said. Her shy smile returned. That smile, more than anything else, gave him the courage to speak up. He licked his lips. “Are... are you free tomorrow night?”
She nodded. “I suppose I am,” she said, sounding very serious.
They stared at each other.
On impulse, he rose and took her scared limb in his own, leaned over and planted a kiss on her hoof. “Then let us meet here again on the morrow! Good night, shield maiden!”
She chuckled. “And a good night to you, flying mage!”
He was whistling when he left the bar.