No Sun-Queen Shall Rend Asunder

by Plough and Stars Pony

The Twily Fly and the Flashie Fly

The Twily Fly
(Written on 2018.11.08, 2018.11.17, and 2018.11.19;
Keyed up on 2018.11.21-22, and 28)

Twilight’s horn glows.

A point of purple light the size of a glowworm shines there. It does not grow or shrink. A moment later, three tiny needle-points slide out of the central dot. As they thicken, Flash sees they are different colours, now they lengthen to spokes.

The white beams of the spell faded, now resting on the tip of Twilight’s horn was a mote of purple light with three wings poking out. One wing is indigo, the second hot magenta-pink, and the third is midnight blue – all three colours of Twilight’s mane.

The alicorn mare flicks her horn in Flash’s direction and the three-winged mote that looks like a fly buzzes in long bouncy arcs toward him, all three wings flapping and blurring.

Flash keeps his eyes on it until it lands on the end of his nose. All three wings buzz to a stop.

Flash grins, crossing his eyes to look down at it.

“Cuute,” Twilight murmurs, sighing. A second flick of her horn, a flash of light and she stores the image in her memory. Twilight should now be able to recall the image mentally, and rebuild it with bits of magic light.

Flash uncrosses his eyes at the pulse of visual radiation to look across at her.

“Yes, this little critter is cute, isn’t it? So…what is this, and why did you give it to me?”

The mare stands to saunter over to the stallion, seating herself next to him close enough for their flanks to touch.

“A memento, Flash. To remind you of me on the days we don’t see each other. I know you think of me when we are not together.”

Flash thought of chipping in the beautiful, smart, kooky mare occupied his wishes and dreams many hours of the day, and that the memento was an awfully sweet thing from an awfully sweet mare, but as his love was in the middle of talking he kept his mouth shut.

Twilight continues: “It’s long-lasting and powerful magic too, it will not wear out or dim, staying at a constant pulse of radiation emission for sixteen months at most.”

Flash, with one eye, watches the mote’s wings lazily rise and fall with the motion and breathing of his body.

“This is made from your magic, Twi; it has your colours…it looks like a bug, a cute bug too…wait wait,” the stallion chuckles, before laughing. “It’s you, Twi. It’s a Twily Fly!”

The alicorn mare stares, before seeing Flash was right, and she laughs in turn, clapping hoofs to her muzzle. “Oh my goodness,” the mare squeaks, “So it is, it a Twily Fly!”

She leans in to gently bump her snout with his.

The Twily Fly skips in to the air, buzzing, neon wings melting in one wide psychedelic fan. Both mare and stallion grin at the angry Twily Fly, and at each other. The Fly comes to rest on their snouts, one wing resting along the curve of the nose.

It was silent now. Peace between two ponies who love each other as well as the mark of one’s love to the other.

Whenever and every time they did this, Flash found them at once both solemn, precious. Yet fun and silliness were roiling at rest behind the peace. Flash feels warmth in his snout and in his heart.

Twilight slowly breaks away leaning back with the Fly on her nose. Before Flash could utter a mock-offended “Oi”, she blasts the Fly off its perch with an upward gust of sudden hot breath from her mouth. The Fly plummets upward before steadying.

Both stallion and mare watch it for a moment.

“Looks lonely, doesn’t it?” Twilight says.

“If…you say so,” Flash remarks, shrugging.

A faint sheen overlays Twilight’s horn.

A golden-yellow point of light swells from infinitesimal size to an ember. As Flash watches, three wings fold out, navy blue, a lighter shade of blue, and weak barley yellow. The colour of the fly changes to a light orange gold.

“Behold, the Flashie Fly,” the lavender mare announces proudly. “One for you, love, and one for me. Now, I think it’s time for them to be acquainted, don’t you?”

“Yeah, do,” Flash rumbles.

A flick of her horn sends it upwards to the same level as the first fly.

The Flashie Fly and the Twily Fly flutter closer and closer, find each other and begin circling the other curiously. Beneath them, Flash and Twilight meet gazes and smile.

“Seems they like each other,” Flash says.

The mare’s shoulder roll in pleasure. “Good.”

A second time, the mare leans in, and for the first time that evening, kisses Flash lightly on the lips.

In return the stallion nuzzles her on the nose.

Grinning, the two look back up to the Flies, now pinging off the other and rolling wide orbits. They watch for minutes.

“Enough interaction for now, you two,” says Twilight.

Another flick of her horn jettisons the Twily Fly from its spot, caroming it towards Flash’s ear. Before it could twitch the irritant away, Twilight’s magic ricochets it off and buries it in to the stiff vertical wave of his deep, blue mane.

“Should be safe in there. Nopony should see it now,” she says, as Flash raises a hoof to run it through his mane. “I rumple my mane hard enough, and it comes out?” Flash asks.

“Yeah, better be quick and catch it on your hoof.”

“I never said ‘thank you’, Twi.”

“Darling, you know it does not matter.”

“Hmm, thank you, Twi.”

“You’re so welcome, my love,” Twilight assures, taking down the Flashie Fly, and, in turn, hiding it under her bangs.

- -

On the evening of the next day, Flash was quite happy to go with his friends Steel Wind and Sharp Spear to the voluntary evening exercise, which were twice a week, in the Royal Guard's training grounds outside the Palace.

The three of them chose towels and tracksuits and presented themselves on the field along with the rest of the volunteers in a line. In the corner of his eye, Flash could discern a table loaded with glasses and two carafes full of water, in the middle of the oval running track. The grass of the field was short, and cool under his hoofs.

Everypony stiffens as their trainer walks in front of them and stops facing them.

"Right!" the P.T. sergeant bellows. "Everypony, forty laps of this 'ere track, quick. Once you've done that, you can come and get a drink. Then another twenty laps. After that, we do thirty wing-stretches and thirty wing-ups. Move."

At the end of practice, the Guardsponies troupe back in to the changing room, laughing, panting, and reeking.

Flash is talking to Steel Wind and a creamy white healthily-minded pegasus named White Gauze turns his head at the wrong moment and seems to catch a glint of purple-pink in the deep blue mane.

As Flash continues talking to Steel, he does not suspect White Gauze behind him squinting at a part of his mane. Eventually he speaks up.

“Excuse me, Flash, but I think a fly is in your mane…,” he opens his wings and lifts up with a draught.

Hovering just above the ground, he bats a wing down a little hard on Flash’s mane, just enough for the stallion to stumble.

“Take it easy!” Flash protests.

"What's the deal, White? Want Flash here to smell your sweat?"

The curious White Gauze says, " I saw something in his mane. Pinky-purpley thing."

What do I say? Should I say it’s a parasprite?....oh, who am I kidding? Twilight told me they devastated Ponyville. I could start a panic…

“Well?”

“Oh, um, I really couldn’t tell you, White.”

“If it is an insect, remember to shake it out, or you’ll be calling in sick from a blood complaint or a skin rash.”

“Okay, okay, White, I promise.”

“What was that all about?” Sharp asks as they jog away across the wide sports’ field. “Attracting flies is serious, Flash. Hay, I know a locker-room can get smelly with forty sweaty stallions in it but not so bad as to attract a few flies.”

"We can deal with flies no problem," Steel scoffs, demonstrating with his thick grey tail.

“It’s not really a fly, guys. It’s…something different.”

Flash withdraws the little skittish magic insect. “Meet the Twily Fly, guys…likeable, don’t you think?”

“What is it?”

“Hang on…Twily?”

“It’s from…,”

“Yeah,” Flash rumbles, “her, guys. A little something special from her.”

When they went in, Flash Sentry promptly turned his heels for a cubicle of the showers. The stallion showered long. The stallion showered hard. All for the approval of White Gauze and the P.T. sergeant. What if word got back up to Iron Hoof? He had to catch the Twily Fly avoiding the hard jet of steaming hot water and making a bee-line for the ceiling. Flash set it on the highest basket of the rack where the soap, body wash, mane conditioner, and brushes were kept.

When it was all over, and Flash was lying on his bed in his Guard’s cell, he reaches up to his mane and pulls out the Twily Fly, where it had taken refuge in the thickest part of his mane.

“That was close, wasn’t it, little guy?” he whispers.

Comments

[Ultimate Warrior of Zera]

Once again, this is beautiful.

[edrodriguez]

Like the fimfic and it is so awesome to see you didn't stop writing this fic.