//------------------------------// // The Race // Story: Winning, and Why // by 8686 //------------------------------// My dear reader, it is with mixed feelings that I find myself addressing you now. The humble narrator, oft shrouded behind the curtain, rarely makes his voice heard, instead choosing to occlude oneself in service of more ably relating the tale. Indeed that is my sole function, and I beg that you divest yourself of any conceit that I am capable of manipulating the story. I am simply the purveyor of this anecdote; bound to recount the events as they in fact happened, and no more able to alter their outcome now, after the fact, than to move a mountain. And while the path that those events took seems obvious and inescapable to one blessed with foreknowledge such as I, I cannot help but worry that, to a fresh pair of eyes, your expectation of the climax of these escapades might be coloured somewhat by an irrational, yet entirely forgivable sense of optimism. In this I cannot hold myself entirely blameless, and so, in this rarest of instances, I feel compelled to interject here in order to offer a fair warning; a cautionary note, should your impulses compel you to follow these events through to their conclusion. For if you have been following our well-meaning friends through their antics and mishaps to this point, and you have in your mind concluded that Rainbow Dash’s scheme is a good one, meticulously planned and thoroughly rehearsed with nothing left to chance; if you have closed your eyes to the patent absurdity of this whole affair and you enter into the final chapter of this tale anticipating that in short order Fluttershy will emerge deservedly victorious from this most tragic of contests, and be imbued with the warmth and good feeling that can only have been intended, then, dear reader, I fear the account which you will shortly read will not be the straightforward denouement that you might have been pardoned for expecting. If, however, you have read the chronicle of their adventure thus far and instead formed the opinion that the present competition is little more than a poor contrivance; an ill-thought-through attempt at a result far easier achieved with honest words and kind deeds, the contradictory nature of the whole debacle surely doomed to collapse under the weight of its own impossibility, but for now desperately held together by nothing stronger than the spit that is the collective will and honourable intent of a group of selfless friends wanting only to do something nice... If you hold that happiness and gratitude are entirely implausible consequences and that this confounding mess is far more likely to tempt disappointment and woe... then your intuition serves you well indeed, and you are surely a credit to whatever genus you call home, be it equine, bovine, simian or other. For gathered at the start-line, just in front of a band of red-ribbon strung between two poles in a field at Sweet Apple Acres, beneath what was about to be a glorious red, western sunset, stood five ponies and one dragon who, while having neither mischief nor explicit cheat as their goal, were all intent in their own individual ways that the sixth and final member of their group was going to win this race, and do so in a fair and impartial manner. And if, dear reader, you perceive an incompatibility there; if you suppose that this notion stretches credibility to its breaking point, and could in real terms only prelude calamity, then once again you are well served by your instincts. And while I can offer you the crumb of comfort that at the end of it all, no permanent damage was suffered and the bonds between our friends remained likewise undiminished, this was all rather in spite of the fiasco about which you will soon read, rather than a consequence of it. It was supposed to be a race, and yet here I can re-arrange those letters, add one other, and adequately sum up that which it turned out to be: a farce. And in the senses both figurative and literal, it began with a bang, and ended with a whimper. “BANG!” cried Spike, in lieu of the starting pistol he did not possess. And they were off and running. To Rainbow Dash’s mind the plan was perfect. All present actively wanted Fluttershy to win the race: herself and her friends wanted her to win to make her happy, and Fluttershy wanted to win because she thought Rainbow wanted to win, and wouldn’t want to let her down. There was just such a neatness to it. A complete unity of purpose. As far as Dash was concerned, she and her friends could do the impossible when they all worked towards the same goal. This should be a piece of cake, right? How could it not be? Her training and preparation with Fluttershy was paying off immediately too, for they began the race at a quick clip. A brisk, rhythmic canter, well-paced, smooth and perfectly in sync. And it was a huge surprise when they were left in the dust by both of the other teams. Twilight’s plan was simple enough. She had correctly guessed that after her conversation with Rainbow Dash in the castle, she and Fluttershy would likely involve themselves in some last-minute preparation for the race. And while Twilight herself wasn’t exactly an expert on the practical aspects of racing, she had several excellent books on the subject, all of which espoused similar advice: pace oneself, and finish strong. So she surmised that, logically, the best way to lose a race was to do the exact opposite. As soon as the race had started, she set off at the fastest sprint she could – rather dragging Rarity with her – meaning to utterly exhaust herself by the time she reached the tree. She would not be able to keep up anything like a good pace on the return leg but would still be able to say, with total honesty, that she had tried her hardest. Dash and Fluttershy’s training would ensure they’d overtake her and Rarity long before they could finish, thus in a factual sense it’d be Fluttershy’s ability that would ultimately lead her to victory – fair and square. It was the perfect plan! This all came as something of a surprise to Rarity who quickly found Twilight effectively yanking her right foreleg forward and beginning at a highly unreasonable pace! However, she was quickly forced to keep up with her team-mate lest the constant, rough tugging cause the delicately tied bows on the silk scarves that entwined them to come undone too soon. Applejack didn’t really have her own plan for losing the race. She was determined in herself to run the best race she could, just like she should. Her actual strategy – if you wanted to call it that – rested on Pinkie Pie, and in the event it turned out to be either a masterstroke or a terrible, terrible idea. Because if Applejack was under any illusions that she was going to have any say in terms of their speed or direction, they were almost immediately shattered when, trying to put her left leg forward and set off at a gallop, she felt it instead being drawn upwards! Pinkie Pie began the race by bouncing, as she was wont to do. Upwards, over, down, bounce! Up, over, down, bounce! Her self-imposed sugar-based sabotage gave her ridiculous strength, improbable speed, and an absolute mountain of energy that simply could not be constrained or focused. Pinkie Pie in the midst of a sugar-rush was akin to watching a train crash consumed by a tornado. She wasn’t a pony anymore – she was a force of nature. Her ears twitched, her pupils were no more than dots, her grin was a terrible, manic rictus... and Applejack was reduced to a passenger on an extremely uncomfortable ride. The farmpony felt sick already: this was like being on one of those inflatable bouncy-palaces that the foals enjoyed at parties, except lurching from place to place instead of softly bouncing. But lurching quickly! Even to Pinkie’s own surprise – so far as she could register surprise from inside her sucrose-addled brain – her leaps carried them both forward at an egregious rate, to match that of Team Unicorn’s mad, uncoordinated sprinting a little way to their left. And as Dash watched a certain victory turn into, ‘So, that’s how it is?’ from far back in third place, she looked quickly at Fluttershy with a determined scowl and made to quicken her step. “Come on, Fluttershy!” Brisk, rhythmic cantering wasn’t going to cut it. And Fluttershy responded just as Rainbow Dash knew... knew she would. Like a hero. Fluttershy was known for many things. A quiet, demure nature. A kind, sensitive disposition. A wonderful way with animals and creatures of all kinds. But of all the things she was known for, a turn of speed and fleetness of foot wasn’t among them, and that had always surprised Rainbow Dash a little. Fluttershy might not have the endurance of an athlete like herself or Applejack, nor Pinkie Pie’s weird ability to arrive at a destination before having technically set off for it. But when she needed to; when she wanted to, she could move! Darting relatively short distances in the blink of an eye, moving with the rapidity and intensity of a whip-crack. Twilight had pointed it out earlier. Ponyville had won a silver medal in the Equestria Games Aerial Relay, and been beaten out by only the narrowest of margins at that. And much as Rainbow Dash liked to brag about her own role in that contest, she would never begrudge the truth: there had been three ponies in that team, and were it not for Fluttershy, the medal table would have looked quite different by the closing ceremony. She had been awesome. Just like always. And now, as Rainbow Dash gee’d her up, Fluttershy set herself her own little determined frown, and together they increased their speed to an all-out sprint. They remained perfectly synchronised, their training and their affinity for each other ensuring each hoof-fall was perfectly timed as they ran. The smoothness of their gait and the ease of their pace was more than a match for the awkward, almost painful-to-watch tactics of their opponents, be it Pinkie Pie’s suicidal bouncing while dragging Applejack’s dead-weight; or Twilight and Rarity’s roughhouse dashing, expending a great deal of energy but completely unable to get their strides to match efficiently. And in short order, Team Pegasus began to reel the others in as they approached the tree. The apple tree in question was a large one, sporting a wide trunk plated with thick, knotted bark, and chunky, shallow, sprawling roots that twisted and turned as they spread away for several meters above-ground before finally delving into the solid earth. Getting around the tree without taking a very wide line would require effective teamwork and skilled coordination if any of them wanted to avoid tripping on those roots and taking a tumble. That was the first problem. The second was that, while Applejack had explicitly stated that every team had to go round the tree, she had given no indication as to which way, and so each team ended up deciding for themselves. And they all decided differently. Team Unicorn – as the furthest team to the left – naturally took the leftmost approach, intending to circumnavigate the tree in a clockwise direction. However, the left aspect was where the roots lay thickest and longest, and they were immediately caught up in a half-dance of almost-falling, tripping on bark and over each other as they tried to work their legs into sure footing. Team Earth Pony took rightwards, however the issue here was that in tandem with the trip-hazards and uneven ground the roots presented, the tree also sported several low branches, which Pinkie’s bounding threatened to carry herself and Applejack into! For several horrifying seconds, concussion was a real possibility. Team Pegasus, as the centre team, had the hardest choice to make. Fluttershy, being on Rainbow Dash’s left, instinctively began to head to the right, under the impression that Rainbow Dash would prefer the approach closest to herself. But on feeling Fluttershy’s gentle pushing, Dash frowned and pushed back to the left. The Unicorns were at least predictable, and overtaking them was going to be far easier than getting in the way of whatever Pinkie was up to. They were right behind them now, Twilight and Rarity struggling on only a length in front, almost halfway round the tree. They had taken a wider line than expected, but even where the roots were thinner, fewer, and further between, they were still causing issues. Rainbow Dash gave Fluttershy a gentle push further left, planning to pass the unicorns on the outside using their superior pace. They drew alongside, and then everything came to a crashing halt. Twilight’s plan to totally exhaust herself had worked. Her legs felt leaden and unwieldy, and as she tried to raise her left foreleg once more to negotiate another infernal bark-clad tendril, she found herself tackling her own fatigue and that of Rarity, and on this occasion it happened that their collective strength was inferior to the weight of their joined limb. Their hooves struck the bark and they tripped, Twilight’s awkward mid-trot balance causing her to fall heavily leftwards into her teammate. Unable to counter Twilight’s momentum, Rarity fell as well, pushed straight into Rainbow Dash. The unexpected impact came at a crucial point in Rainbow and Fluttershy’s stride, and unable to recover from the weight of two ponies suddenly falling into her, Dash fell like a domino, and Fluttershy’s legs buckled beneath her. The three ponies fell onto Fluttershy in a tumbling mass of bodies, heads and legs. Eventually they came to rest, with Fluttershy lying pinned at the bottom of the pile. But before any of them could take further stock, Pinkie Pie and Applejack appeared rounding the tree from the other side, Pinkie’s last, unfortunate leap putting both of them on an inescapable collision course with their friends. They crashed heavily onto the pile, the weight of two earth-ponies not normally known for being slight of frame adding itself forcefully to the mass. Unheard in the crash, a small cry of pain emanated from the bottom of the jumble of ponies. They weren’t down for long, each of the teams already trying to scramble back to their hooves. Dash was determined to get there first, in spite of their awkward position. As soon as she felt Rarity’s weight shift, she wriggled and scrambled upright, but Fluttershy wasn’t moving with her as quickly as she might. Thankfully their forelegs were still securely bound and she dragged her teammate up off the ground. “Come on Fluttershy! We gotta win this!” Twilight and Rarity’s scarves had come undone in the fall, and it would take them vital seconds to re-tie their legs, and meanwhile the impact seemed to have knocked some sense back into Pinkie Pie, and she had stopped bouncing to give Applejack some sorely-needed respite, the farmpony immobile and green-cheeked, looking like she was about to be very ill indeed. If they could just make a good start now, they’d have this in the bag! “Rainbow Dash... I don’t think I can–” “Of course we can!” encouraged Dash with a grin. “We’ve got this!” She tried to make a start, setting off at a gallop back towards the finish line, but Fluttershy still wasn’t moving with her as smoothly as she had before. On the first stride, the pony at her side hissed and sucked air through her teeth. On the third, she yelped quietly. And at the seventh, she cried out. “Rainbow Dash, stop! Please!” She stopped. And Fluttershy’s legs crumpled as she fell back to the ground, threatening to pull Rainbow with her until Dash regained her balance. Dash looked down at her urgently. “Come on, Fluttershy, get up! We’re on the home stretch! We gotta–!” “It hurts,” she whimpered. Dash looked down, saw her friend breathing heavily, eyes scrunched shut and teeth clenched, and she stopped everything. The world seemed to go quiet. Right there and right then, the race was over. “Fluttershy? Are... you okay?” she asked. Fluttershy nodded, but her eyes were still firmly shut and even threatening to water. “I... landed on a root in the fall,” she said between gasps. “Hurt my ribs. I don’t think I can run.” “That’s okay, that’s okay,” blurted Dash, “Just take it easy. Stay with me. Don’t go towards the light – that’s bad.” She dipped her head, wrestling with the knot on her leg with her teeth, slowly working it undone until it came free. The coils of rope slipped to the ground and they were separated at last, allowing Dash to look at her partner more closely. Years of experience with death-defying tricks should probably have given her an intimate knowledge of all kinds of calamitous injury. And yet as she cast her worried eye over the pony lying before her, all she could really tell was that Fluttershy’s legs all still seemed to bend the right way, and there was nothing on the outside that should normally be on the inside. “You’re okay, right?” “I’ll be alright,” said Fluttershy, still gasping a little. “It hurts when I breathe...” “Nono, keep breathing. Breathing good,” babbled Dash. She raised her head. “Twilight!” Twilight and the remainder of the group trotted over to join them, a worried glance exchanged between Rarity and Pinkie Pie. At a prompt, Twilight examined Fluttershy with a few careful, apologetic prods – eliciting a few stifled intakes of breath through clenched teeth. Twilight withdrew her hoof and, closing her eyes, lit her horn. She cast an aura over and around Fluttershy's midsection, simply letting it swirl and pulse without further manipulation as she furrowed her brow, concentrating on something behind her eyelids. A few moments later the aura vanished and Twilight opened her eyes again, this time with a small smile. “You’ll be fine, Fluttershy. I don’t think anything’s broken, but you might have a bruised rib. You’ll just need to take it easy for a little while.” The relief on Dash’s face was plain for all to see. A moment later Spike joined them, having had to stride from the finish line still some distance away. He arrived grasping the book he had been clutching earlier as though it were a talisman and sported his own, confident grin. “Congratulations Fluttershy. I hereby announce that you and Rainbow Dash are... the winners!” Six pairs of eyes turned on him silently. “Uh... what?” said Dash. “Well okay, it’s kind of by default, since I’ve had to disqualify both the other teams,” explained Spike. “What?!” cried Twilight and Applejack as one. Spike winced a little, but recovered and held up the book before him, presenting the title for their consideration. The Official Seven-Legged-Race Rule Book. Then he flipped it open and, addressing Applejack first, began to read. “Ahem. Rule seven: the binding shall be of rope, cord, cloth, or other similar, permanent material not likely to perish.” He snapped the book shut. “Sorry, but liquorice is candy, and definitely doesn’t qualify.” “It’s liquorice rope!” protested Applejack. “Nope, it’s liquorice,” conceded Pinkie Pie with a shrug and a smile. Whatever sugar-fueled trance she’d formerly been under appeared at last to have dissipated; the benefits of a rapid metabolism. “Okay,” said Twilight. “But what’s wrong with silk?” “Nothing,” admitted Spike. “But your scarves came undone when you both tripped at the tree. Rule four says you’re not allowed to continue the race any further until you’ve re-tied your legs. And technically, you’ve both run from the tree... to here,” he pointed out. Twilight frowned at herself, silently vexed at being caught out on a technicality, while Rarity simply shrugged. “Oh dear, woe is us, hmm Twilight?” “Exactly,” said Spike with aplomb. “So, I’m happy to announce that the winners of the inaugural Sweet Apple Acres Seven-Legged Race are...!” “Um, Spike?” Spike stopped, Fluttershy’s quiet, querying voice halting him mid-sentence. With a little effort, and a couple more stifled gasps, Fluttershy struggled up to a sitting position and caught her breath. “Thank you, Spike. Thank you everypony. I appreciate what you’ve all tried to do, but I don’t think that we can really say that anypony’s won. It would be a bit silly.” She hesitated for a second. Then, “Could I have a moment with Rainbow Dash, please?” Several nods were given in response and, standing and just about able to walk now, Fluttershy led Rainbow Dash away from the group and over back towards the apple tree. They sat beneath the boughs, in the long shadow cast by the sun now greeting the horizon, the whole world turning a lively scarlet-orange. The warm summer breeze wafted gently against the branches, leaves rustling faintly. “Sorry I didn’t win like you wanted,” said Fluttershy. Dash blinked. Her eyes widened. “Huh? How did–? I mean... I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said with a poorly concealed note of guilt. “Come on, Dashie, do you think I don’t know what’s really going on?” “Um... well...?” Dash hesitated, absently rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof and wishing for the ground to open up. But in the end it was Fluttershy’s soft, honest gaze that broke her. “Okay, fine. Yeah. I really wanted you to win.” “I know,” she said softly. “But... why? I told you, I don’t mind not winning. It’s just not a big deal to me. I don’t understand why whether or not I win something is so important, especially to somepony else. And I don’t understand why you’d go to all this silly trouble?” “Because–!” started Dash, and then caught herself. She didn’t have an end to that sentence at first, but slowly, one began to form. She forced her gaze to meet Fluttershy’s. And Rainbow’s next words were spoken with honesty and love. “Because you’re special.” Dash smiled and Fluttershy, a little disarmed, smiled back. But Dash wasn’t done yet, and she took a breath. “I’ve been trying to work it out since we were playing earlier, y’know? Why I love winning. And you know what it is? It’s because when you win at something, for a while, you get to feel a little bit special.” She took another breath and put on a slight frown. “But you’ve never won anything, and you don’t know what that’s like. And that’s not fair! Everypony gets to win at something. Everypony gets to feel special sometimes. Why not you? Why doesn’t one of the most awesome ponies I know get to feel like she’s special at least once? I just... it was really important to me that you to have that. That you know that. So, yeah... this happened.” “Oh, Dashie. You really don’t understand?” The two friends sat opposite each other in the quiet shade of the tree, and at length and with a tear in her eye and a warm, soft, honest smile on her lips, Fluttershy took a breath... “I do feel special...” * * * A clear day. A small cottage. An uneasy atmosphere. “Cloud-one?” Rainbow Dash made no move. Just sat still, gazing at her board with the same slightly-annoyed, slightly-troubled look she’d had all afternoon. “Rainbow Dash? Cloud-one?” Dash looked up from her trance, then back at the board, but still made no move towards it. Fluttershy opened her mouth to ask if something was the matter, but before she could get another word out, Dash drew a quick breath and pre-empted her. “Fluttershy? I’m really sorry, okay? I was a total jerk. I just... don’t know what got into me. I mean, you never told me you were that scared of dragons! But still... I said some pretty uncool things. Really really uncool.” She forced herself to meet Fluttershy’s eyes. “Would you...? I mean can you...?” She struggled and re-started. “You’re gonna forgive me, right?” Her eyes gave it away for the desperate plea it was. And Fluttershy felt a smile form, completely on its own. “Oh, Dashie. Of course I forgive you. That’s what friends do.” “We’re still friends?” “We’re still friends,” confirmed Fluttershy, her warm smile never leaving. A winter’s morning. A blanket of snow. A cosy cottage. “On stage?! In front of an audience?! I... I couldn’t!” cried Fluttershy. “Come on Fluttershy! You did all that fashion-runway nonsense with Rarity. This is just like that, except with talking!” “But I hated it!” she objected. “You know I hate performing in front of others. I’d just make a mess of it. And I’d let everypony else down too.” It was a disaster waiting to happen. How could Rainbow Dash even think this was a good idea? “You’ve never let anypony down before, and you won’t now,” said Dash with a firm note of confidence. “Besides, we’ve got two whole weeks to rehearse. And think of it like this: the crowd’s not gonna be watching you, they’re gonna be watching Private Pansy. Imagine like she’s a totally different pony.” “But she won't be a different pony, she’ll be me!” Why didn't she understand that if she did this, she’d choke and ruin everything for everypony else? Dash sighed. But rather than the impatience Fluttershy had expected, instead her face softened and she met Fluttershy’s gaze with understanding eyes. “Look, I know this isn’t your thing, okay? And if you really don’t want to do it... we can find somepony else to fill in. But Princess Celestia is asking us herself.” She unfolded Twilight’s borrowed letter and showed it to Fluttershy. “Everypony’s super up for it, and we all wanna do it together. As friends. It just wouldn’t be the same without you.” “I just don’t think I can,” Fluttershy mewled, casting her gaze to the floor. And Rainbow Dash approached her, and put a hoof around her withers. “Hey... it’s not like you’re gonna be up there by yourself. I’m gonna be right there with you. I mean... well, don’t get me wrong, I’m gonna be yelling at you a lot,” she said, now taking her open copy of the script and quickly leafing through several pages. Then a few more. Then, with a frown, more still. “Uh... wow, a whole lot, actually. But...” she looked up again. “That’s not real, okay? Even when Commander Hurricane gets mad at Private Pansy... Rainbow Dash is right there for Fluttershy if something goes wrong.” She smiled warmly. “I know you can do it. Whaddya say?” Fluttershy looked up. Rainbow Dash really had that much faith in her? She really thought she could do this? She... she wouldn't want to let any of her friends down. She took a deep breath. “O–okay. I’ll do it.” An early spring morning. A full picnic hamper. A heavy knock at the door. “Rainbow Dash, come in!” “Fluttershy...” muttered her friend in grumbly greeting, entering with obvious reluctance. “Oh, I’m so excited,” chirped Fluttershy, flitting on her wings and almost dancing in the air with glee. “I’ve packed us a picnic, and I know the perfect spot to watch from, and look! I’ve got us these hats to wear, just like real adventurers.” “Oh. Great,” griped Dash. “And Twilight lent me this book we can use to identify all the different species! It's going to be so much fun!” “Yeah. Fun,” said Dash, less than enthused and eyeing the binoculars hung from Fluttershy’s neck with open skepticism. Fluttershy’s smile faltered and fell, a little wave of disappointment washing over her. She sighed silently and met Rainbow's gaze. “Rainbow... you don’t have to come if you really don’t want to.” Dash blinked and looked up. “Huh?” Fluttershy smiled, this time kindly. “I’d have really liked to have watched the butterfly migration with you, but I know there are probably other things you’d rather do. If you don’t want to–” “Whoa-whoa-whoa,” said Dash with a frown, cutting her off. “I said I’d come with you, so I’m coming with you, okay?” she said, snatching up one of the two pith helmets from the table and seating it firmly atop her head. “Are you sure?” Dash rolled her eyes, hard. “Would you just come on already? Otherwise you’re gonna miss, like, one butterfly or something.” She was already stalking, head low, towards the open door, and with a happy grin, Fluttershy quickly popped the picnic basket on her back and followed her out. They were going to have so much fun together! Fluttershy felt a soft, comfortable impact as she was caught by the cloud, her desperate flight ending abruptly. “Whoa girl, take it easy!” came Dash’s voice from nearby. Had it really happened? All of that water, funnelled safely to Cloudsdale? “Wha– What? Did we do it?” she asked, her dizziness clearing. “Yeah!” cried Rainbow Dash, hooves outstretched victoriously, hovering just in front of her. “We did it! You did it!” Dash threw her forelegs around her in a tight hug, both of them giddily elated. She released her and, with a little twinkle in her eye, extended her right wing. Fluttershy, taking her cue, extended her left, and they slapped their wingtips together in a little, private celebration. Dash led her back to the ground, and to the crowd of ponies gathered there. Fluttershy stood nervously for a moment. Rainbow Dash was a great friend, but the others would surely have no qualms about telling her just how feeble she’d been; how she’d barely helped at all. “Great job, Fluttershy! That was awesome!” said Flitter from her left. “Yeah! We couldn’t have done it without you,” echoed Cloud Chaser. Oh, wow. Well... maybe she’d done okay after all. Maybe, just this once, she’d been adequate... Behind her, she caught a glimpse of Spitfire beginning to amble over towards Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy politely took a couple of steps away to go stand on her own. It wouldn’t be fair to interrupt Rainbow when she had the chance at a personal conversation with her absolute hero, after all. She couldn’t hear exactly what Spitfire said to her, but it was definitely a compliment of some sort. Rainbow would be so pleased, and Fluttershy smiled, happy for her. Then, unexpectedly, Rainbow spoke up, loud. “Thanks, but if you wanna talk guts, then you gotta give it to my number one flier: Fluttershy!” Then she shouted! “Let’s hear it for Fluttershy!” And all of a sudden, everypony was chanting her name. Cheering her. Liking her! Oh... Oh my. She grinned a happy, happy grin. Something was wrong, and Fluttershy just couldn’t put her hoof on it. She still felt normal herself, but everything else was all... out of sorts. It was like she’d woken up this morning and the whole town just didn’t want her around anymore. Still, she was sure everything would be better soon. Leaving Ponyville just... felt like a better way to go somehow, as she weakly dragged her knapsack towards the air-balloon and hoofed over a few measly bits. “Fluttershy, wait!” called a voice from behind, causing her to turn. She saw Twilight, with Spike in tow, hurrying over to her. “Oh, hey Twilight,” she mumbled, unable to muster any enthusiasm. It just... wasn’t that sort of day. Or life, really. “Where are you going?” asked her friend. “I’m moving back to Cloudsdale,” she said hopelessly. “I don’t know what’s wrong but... I just can’t seem to make anypony laugh.” In demonstration she offered Twilight a whoopee cushion and squeezed it between her hooves, letting out a pathetic, burbling raspberry that she was sure had been funny, once upon a time. Maybe. It all felt so distant and hazy somehow. Like she was looking at the past from behind a veil – the shapes and the colours were there, but it was all just a jumbled mess that she couldn’t see clearly. Had it always been like that? Anyway, Twilight looked unimpressed with her display, just like everypony else had this morning. Twilight finally spoke up again. “Before you go, I was wondering if you might be willing to help Rainbow Dash. She’s really struggling with her animals,” said Twilight. Fluttershy recoiled a little, surprised. After all, Rainbow Dash had always been the expert with critters of all kinds, hadn’t she? “But... I don’t really know anything about animals,” she said, wringing her hooves. “But you do know something about Rainbow Dash,” said Twilight confidently. Fluttershy thought for a moment. She did know something about Rainbow Dash. In fact... after a whole memory-fogged morning of everything feeling strangely off somehow, this one thing felt right. This one thing she knew with absolute, unwavering certainty. “I know that she’s a true friend. And I’ll do anything I can to help her...” Fluttershy stood quietly, secretly nervous as she waited for Princess Twilight to hand down her verdict from her seat in the royal box. Twilight looked conflicted for a moment, then reluctantly resolved. “I’ve heard what you both have to say, and I’m sorry Rainbow Dash, but my hooves are tied. You said it was a fair trade.” Fluttershy sighed a little and looked at the ground. At least Rainbow Dash would have what she’d really wanted all along. She’d be happy. That was what mattered. “Yeah, I said it,” argued Dash from off to her left. “But I was wrong! I did want that book. A lot. I said I wanted it more than anything in all of Equestria! But there’s no thing that’s worth as much to me, as a friend...” She paused to look at Fluttershy meaningfully and with an abashed expression. “I might have forgotten that for a little bit, but it’s true.” She turned back to Twilight and raised her voice. “Which means there’s no way this trade could be fair!” Fluttershy felt an odd, happy, comfortable warmth inside her and her expression became a sincere, humble smile, almost a tear in her eye. “Oh come on! That’s–!” started the Daring Do trader. Then her face seemed to soften and tears actually came to her eyes. “...the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” She wiped the tears away with a hoof. “Okay. The trade’s off!” There was a cheer from the crowd, the book was returned, and then suddenly Rainbow Dash threw herself at her, tackling Fluttershy to the ground in a warm, tight hug and didn’t let go, wearing a wide, relieved smile. And Fluttershy smiled back. Rainbow Dash really thought she was more important to her than the most important thing in the world? * * * The two friends sat opposite each other in the quiet shade of the tree, and at length and with a tear in her eye and a warm, soft, honest smile on her lips, Fluttershy took a breath... “I do feel special,” she whispered. She wiped a tear from her eye. “Once, a long time ago, the kindest, nicest pony I’d ever met told three mean bullies to leave me alone.” She held Rainbow’s gaze, but her hoof scratched a little at the ground. “Before then, I thought nopony would ever be nice to me. I thought maybe I wasn’t worth being nice to, somehow. But when that happened... it was the most special I’d ever felt. “I never expected it to happen again. But then every time I saw that pony after, she was still nice to me. She talked to me, and I felt special then, too. And then, suddenly, she was always there for me, even when she didn’t have to be, or really want to be. And every time she came to spend time with me, that special feeling came back. Even now, every single week she comes to my cottage to play a game, even though she knows she’ll win, and even though it’s probably not fun for her anymore, and even though she’s got lots of better things she could be doing instead... she always comes anyway. I feel special because even after all this time, and even though we don’t have much in common, she still chooses to call herself my friend. I could win a hundred races, games, contests and competitions, but nothing would ever compare to how I feel every day, just knowing that...” She reached out and pulled Dash into a warm, soft hug. “You make me feel special, Rainbow Dash,” she whispered. “Stop!” cried Dash. Something was wrong with her face. She could feel it. Like it was going all screwy somehow. “Just stop okay! You’re gonna make me...!” Sudden tears came to her eyes and her face just crumpled. “Aw, dang it!” Her voice cracked and she wrapped her hooves around Fluttershy, burying her face into her mane. “I’m totally not forgiving you for this,” she said between muffled sobs. “Okay,” whispered Fluttershy, with a little smile. Suddenly, they were interrupted by a distant, high-pitched voice. “Flutterhugs?! I want one!” “Pinkie, wait!” A moment later there was an impact and a soft squeeze accompanied by a great deal of pink, frizzy mane. Fluttershy hissed painfully as the pressure on her torso increased, prompting Pinkie Pie to release her and back away quickly with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry!” “It’s okay, Pinkie,” said Fluttershy. She raised her head so she could look her in the eye with a warm smile. “Your friendship is special to me too. In fact, I’m so lucky to have so many good friends who’d all go so far out of their way for me...” she looked over to her remaining friends who were already naturally following Pinkie over to stand beneath the tree. “...But you all really didn’t need to go to all this trouble,” she finished with a chortle. “I’m glad you know we were only trying to help, darling,” said Rarity. “Oh, of course I do.” “Guess maybe we should’a actually asked ya if you wanted it,” Applejack chimed in with a guilty smile. Then the farmpony’s gaze fell to Rainbow Dash, still burying her muzzle in Fluttershy’s mane. “Uh... is she okay?” “Shut up, Applejack...” came the slightly muffled, sniffly reply. “Never mind,” said Applejack, now grinning. “Answers my question.” Rainbow Dash, feeling more attention on herself, finally composed her features enough to release Fluttershy from the hug. She remained seated and turned, the rest of her friends surrounding the both of them with kind smiles. She felt like she had to say something. And what else could she say to a group of such good friends, who had all gone so far out of their respective ways today? Who’d all dropped what they were doing and done so much just because she’d asked them. Well, there was only one thing, really... “You guys... are all the worst seven-legged racers ever!” She said it with a frown for effect, but it didn’t last long and everypony let out a happy, tension-relieving chuckle. The laughter died and Applejack stood forward. “Come on, y’all, let’s head on back to the barn. I got a heap o’ stuff set up for us for after the race: cold drinks, and a Congratulations Fluttershy cake... though we can probably just pretend like we can’t see all them little iced letters–” “Cider?!” “Yes, Dash, cider too,” she said, starting to lead the way back to the barn, her friends in tow. As their friends walked off, Fluttershy lingered for just a moment beneath the tree, and Rainbow Dash faltered with her. They exchanged a look. There was a question Dash had asked herself earlier in the day. She had wondered why Fluttershy continued playing that game with her every week when she knew she’d never win. But it wasn’t winning that she cared about. It wasn’t even the game, really. It was simply the fact that every week, her friend made time for her. And, Rainbow Dash resolved to herself then and there that she always would. Always.  “I meant it, y’know,” said Dash quietly. “You’re really special.” Fluttershy didn’t say anything. Only met Dash’s gaze with a smile. The kindest, warmest, most humble, grateful and honest smile you would ever see. A personal smile that would never have been borne of victory in a shambolic contest; one that could only ever be coaxed to appear through honest words and kind deeds. When Fluttershy smiled like that it just lifted your whole spirit to see it, and Dash returned her own smile, kind and heartfelt. Together they stood and walked after their friends in the crimson sunset. So they hadn’t won. But winning wasn’t everything, according to the old saying. And, given the choice between winning some contrived race and seeing Fluttershy smile like that... she’d take the smile every time.