Sunset Shimmer Goes to Hell

by scifipony

"I've Waited Too Long to Ask."

By the time somepony found me in the southeastern restriction zone, to which Ice Arrow had originally sent me, I'd figured out how to make its magic make a bright red Mareitanean caravan master's tent accented with gold tassels. I'd filled it with slate tables, brass bowls, and wooden spoons for the food I'd asked it to conjure up, as well as a fluffy royal blue wool carpet (without patterns because that was too hard to express), and a four-poster bed replete with a feather mattress, gauze curtains, and gold satin sheets. Outside I hung a large-circumference bamboo wind chime that, in the constant mountain breezes, provided a bass resonating musical accompaniment to push aside my loneliness. I'd figured out how to make pencils and paper long before; this was an extension nopony had tried. I lay in a mound of pillows by the light of vanilla-scented candles (my tent was otherwise intentionally dark because of the carpet) and wrote things I'd learned in the last few days in my most cramped encrypted shorthoof on the paper I always kept with me.

My ears perked. I heard hooves climbing the stairs, then strolling to the edge of the restriction zone. Crinkle Paper's steps had a recognizable cadence. She said, "Of course, that has to be you."

I parted the fabric doors and pushed aside the curtain of beaded amber. I smiled at the flaxen mare. She pushed aside her platinum mane to reveal violet eyes that, despite the white light of the restriction zone floor in the late orange sunset, sparkled in the two dozen candles behind me. Her ears perked and rotated toward me; one, shorter, was obviously growing back. I said, "Just because I'm restrained doesn't mean I shouldn't work the system."

She chuckled.

I placed a hoof on the barrier. It went zzzot against my horseshoe. I didn't even feel the shock the way I held my hoof. "Tartarus is working again."

"It is. Fully."

"Did anypony find Wolf Run?"

"No. We did find Brandywine, though."

Since that connected me to Sunset Shimmer, a topic I wished to avoid, I instead asked, "What about Ice Arrow? Did he heed my advice? Did he evacuate the outpost?"

Crinkle Paper looked at me as if she was evaluating me like an untrustworthy inmate caught mud-hoofed. Her violet eyes dilated as she looked me up and down.

"What?" I asked.

"Not your style."

"Again, what?"

"Yes, the ponies abandoned the outpost when a titanic monster attacked Cerberus. But not Ice Arrow."

"The prig. He sent me here."

"He did?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I'd found Lord Tirek. He used his Incarcerate Amulet on the both of us." I left out the rest. Equivocation, obviously. And one day I would tell Crinkle Paper (and did).

Again, a pause. She looked me deeply in the eyes, evaluating. I could see her emotions play out in her irises as she thought.

She knew me well. "Not your style. We found Ice Arrow with a bucked hip. Cracked bad. Worse, though Dr. Bone Saw set it, the inspector can't even flutter, let alone fly. It's very odd. Not medical. He's forgotten how to fly. And— he's become a blank flank."

"That's... weird."

"His eyes have gone completely colorless, like ice. I remember them being steel-colored. He has no idea what happened, who attacked him, or what happened to his amulet."

"He is still a prig."

Crinkle Paper chuckled. "I'll ask Lavender Lather to release you."

"If she will. She's probably wondering how I ended up south when she said 'west.'"

Crinkle Paper walked through the restraint zone's magic wall. A green line outlined where she pushed through, but she passed without resistance and I stepped back. She touched my ink-stained shirt, then ran the frog of her hoof lightly along my back and my flank—causing me to shiver—tracing the flow of the midnight blue secretion Chthony had vomited on me. She tapped my spilt-beer-mugs-of-mead cutie mark. "The Chthon chased you. End of story."

"Or the beginning?"

"The beginning?"

I hooked her hoof and together we walked three-legged into my tent, the clatter of beads welcoming us. Vanilla-scented air greeted us as the glow of the flickering candles lit up the gold-trimmed rose interior space. I said to the floor, "Two tubs, very warm water." I looked at her and said, "You've been hiking all day. You must be tired."

"I am."

The air went whir-whir-whir as two white porcelain slipper tubs—which I'd gotten the zone to finally craft correctly after over fifty tries—shimmered into existence within a firefly swarm of sparkles. Daisy motifs decorated the green exterior. Steam rose lazily into the air. She smelled dirty and dusty and of pony sweat. Having lived in Tartarus all these years, this was perfume to my nose, but I wasn't going to say that. Crinkle Paper was a fastidious pony; she might take it wrong.

She removed her uniform, as did I, and we sank into our respective tubs, breathing in the glorious steam, not minding that some water lapped over the edge and fell with a splash on the carpet. She sighed as she submerged with only the tip of her muzzle above the water, then slid up and whipped her wet mane aside. Dripping, she sniffed the air. I'd successfully gotten "tub of water" to mean filled with lavender oil water.

Laying back, she gave me an adoring half-smile and closed her eyes for about a minute. I waited until she stirred and looked at me before I reached across and touched her cheek. I said, "This is about as romantic as you can get in Tartarus."

She actually giggled. Her smile filled the tent with a light surpassing that of the candles, certainly the moon, and possibly the sun. "This may be true."

"In that case, I've waited too long to ask. Will you marry me?"

Well. No suspense here. She did. Though the wedding didn't happen for a year because, well, nopony did marriage in Tartarus. It waited for Princess Celestia to officiate it. After she read Denizens of Hell. After she'd released Princess Forest Green for her bravery in saving Central City from the attack of various titanic beasts and the ravening Dharg. The princesses used the word détente. With an understanding that the timberwolves could live unmolested in the Everfree and that nopony would ever harvest deadwood nor fallen branches from the forest without permission, Princess Celestia's ancient enemy promised friendship and the return of civilization to her daughters in the forest—whether they liked it or not.

Princess Celestia even found how I could be of service to Equestria and incentivized me by not only pardoning me but also Crinkle Paper.

And marrying us…

… and sending us on a special mission the very next day—the bitch. But that's another totally different story.

[After reading this chapter and discussing it with Fluttershy, I do now remember what happened the day I returned Cerberus to Tartarus. I do wish I'd remembered before Lord Tirek returned, but I do agree with White Stockings' assessment that he had thought he had successfully solved the problem by sending the monster back to his homeland. Lord Tirek had probably gone all the way there before learning his civilization had fallen less than a century after his departure. Weakened by travel, he might never have returned. Had White Stockings not intervened when Lord Tirek attacked me that first time, Equestria itself would have fallen. Still, his confession would have made a difference in the end. White Stockings truly is an expert in situational ethics, as is Princess Celestia. — Princess Twilight Sparkle]

Author's Note:

Next up: Sunset Shimmer returns in "I Am Having a Very Bad Day!"