The Calm Before the Plunge
“So, Twilight’s gonna ask you questions about your world?”
“Yep.”
“And that’s what ‘tomorrow at 2’ meant?”
“Pretty much.”
“And Lyra’s sitting in on it, too?”
“Uh-huh”
“And that’s why you got this huge bag of candy?”
“Correct.”
“And you wanted to share it with me?”
“Who else would I share it with, you silly pony?”
Pinkie giggled, snuggling against me. The two of us were stretched out on my bed, side by side, sharing from the bag of sweets Lyra had helped me make, composed of a smorgasbord of the candies the mint-green lyrist had recommended the most. I had to give her credit: she knew her sweets.
When I’d rejoined Pinkie, the twins had been put to their cribs for a nap, and she had instantly glued her eyes to the bag of candy I was carrying, as if she were a puppy seeing a new chew toy in its master’s hand. I’d told her it was for us to split, and that I’d had something important to tell her. I saw no reason why I had to keep my appointment a secret; what harm could come from it?
I’d eaten all I could (I’d mainly tried to have one of each piece to get a balanced sampling), and it was all magnificently decadent, but Pinkie must have had some corners to fill in that gut of hers, as she kept chowing down. Had she completely forgotten that she was, in fact, capable of an overloaded stomach?
“Boy,” I said, when she finally paused, “you sure know how to put it all away.”
“Grammy Pie always told me I’d win the ‘Cleanest Plate’ Award if one existed,” said Pinkie, giving her satisfied belly a pat.
“Well, believe it or not, but I used to be super-picky as a kid. I’d pick apart everything on my plate just to get rid of the stuff I didn’t like. Then I’d eat the stuff I liked less first, just to save the good stuff for last.”
“If you were super-picky,” asked Pinkie, “how did you get so super-tall?”
"That’s one of the things everyone asks me back in my world: how the heck did you get so tall? I never have an answer for them.”
Come to think of it, beyond the candy, my eating habits had been reasonably healthy ever since arriving. Granted, it had only been about 5 days, but so far I couldn’t complain about Equestrian cuisine. I wondered if I'd be any thinner by the time I headed back.
“Davie?” asked Pinkie.
“Hm? What’s wrong, Pinkie? Not another stomachache, I hope.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just, can I ask you to be super-duper honest with me?”
“Of course.”
“Super-duper-completely-no-sugarcoating honest?”
“Pinkie, you’re starting to scare me. What is it?”
“Do you think I’m fat?”
I blinked. That was it? That’s what she was making me swear honesty to? Then again, girls and women always seemed to be touchy on the subject of their weight.
Was she fat? Well, that might be going a little too far. She certainly wasn’t skinny, but she also wasn’t fat fat. She just had a more noticeable belly than most, and was a little plumper in the hip area, but was fine other than that. Where was this even coming from?
"It's not because of what Trixie said, is it?" I asked.
"Well, kinda," said Pinkie. "I mean, I didn't want it to bug me, but I never really noticed how big my tummy is until she brought it up."
“I guess that makes sense," I said. "Well, you want me to be honest?"
Pinkie nodded.
"Here’s my honest opinion, then. You are a little bigger than the average pony. You've got a bit of a belly, but why should that be anything to be ashamed of? If anything, I think it adds to your charm. It makes you look…jolly, huggable.”
I poked her gut playfully, bringing a smile to her face.
“Besides, who wants to have a body like a twig? Yeah, people (and ponies) like that are thin, but are they happy? That’s the major point, Pinkie: if you’re happy with how you are, what’s there to question?”
Pinkie's smile broadened until it was her usual grin.
“Now, take Trixie, for example. Did you even see her? She’s so thin I could see her ribs through her coat. ‘Most sophisticated diet’, my eye. If she’s on a ‘sophisticated diet’, I’m a hippogriff.”
Pinkie giggled.
“You’re right, Davie. It was silly, letting Trixie get in my head. Now there’s a scary thought: having a pony actually inside your head. How much would that hurt? What if you got a headache? Or a brain freeze? Would they feel it too?”
“At least you’re still the same Pinkie in other aspects,” I joked, pulling her into a side hug.
Pinkie grinned and nestled against me. Speaking of Trixie, though, it was a little disheartening to imagine that living alone in her caravan wasn’t allowing her to get enough to eat. If only there was a way to help her without making her believe I made her out to be helpless. That would just agitate her ego.
“Speaking of twigs," Pinkie said, "did you know Fluttershy wants to be a tree?”
“What?” I asked, surprised, but in an amused way.
“Uh-huh. She said herself, ‘I’d like to be a tree’, when Dashie thought she was a tree.”
“Rainbow Dash thought she was a tree?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“She said she was a tree," said Pinkie, "but Fluttershy’s not a tree. I swear, Rainbow Dash is so silly sometimes.”
“Well, putting aside how absolutely ludicrous a thing that is for Rainbow to say," I said, "why would Fluttershy want to be a tree? Yeah, I know she loves nature, and I think it’s a sweet thought, but if she were a tree, we’d lose the pegasus we know and love.”
“I never thought of it like that,” said Pinkie, tapping her chin with her hoof. “If Fluttershy were a tree, she wouldn’t be as nice to hug. She’d be bigger, but she wouldn’t be as soft or warm."
She was silent for a moment, then slapped her hoof onto her foreleg in a decisive way.
"That settles it! Davie, when you go to Twilight’s tomorrow, I want you to do something for me.”
“And what’s that?”
“Make sure she hasn’t found a spell to turn ponies into trees! We have to get to her before Fluttershy gets the idea into her head!”
I was so bewildered by such a request that it took me a bit to answer.
“I’ll certainly see what I can do,” I said, not willing to question Pinkie’s logic.
***
The next day, I was up and about earlier than usual. I was too anxious of what was to come. I was showered and dressed so early that I was downstairs before Pinkie was even in the kitchen. Still, as I sat and waited for the others to come down, I reflected that it was Sunday, after all, and that I should still observe it, even if I was away from home. So thinking, I closed my eyes, clasped my hands, and prayed silently,
“Heavenly Father, if you can hear me all the way across different worlds, I thank you for preserving me thus far as I’ve spent my time in this land of Equestria, helping me to live among these strange but friendly equines. I ask that you continue to guide me in what you believe is the right course of action for me to take. Help give me the wisdom and clarity I require for this interview I’m about to undertake. I pray this in the name of your holy son, Jesus Christ, amen.”
After this, I sat and waited at my usual table, but Pinkie still didn't show up. The minutes ticked by, and there was no sight of her, nor any sound of her hooves on the stairs. Had she slept in? Was she preoccupied in another matter? Had something happened?
Finally, when 10 minutes had gone by, I decided to head upstairs and check on her. I’d hardly reached the stairs, however, before I heard hoof steps. I stepped back, and down came Pinkie, but her appearance made me stop short.
Her mane was still in its Pinkie Frizzle, but her face…There was a transfixed look in her pale blue eyes, as if she had seen a ghost. It was the face of someone who had seen the unspeakable, and was still not over the shock of it.
What could have possibly happened? Was one of the babies ill? Was it something with Gummy? What had brought that haunted look into her eyes?
“Pinkie?”
She didn’t answer. I walked over and, wondering if it even worked outside the cartoons, waved my hand in front of her eyes. They never moved. I snapped my fingers close by her ear. Still nothing.
“Pinkie?”
“…Gone…All gone…” she murmured.
“What?”
“Gone…Never said goodbye…All gone…”
“Pinkie, what are you talking about?”
The dead monotone she was using jarred me considerably. A cold sweat had broken out all over me as I wondered what the hay had happened to my dear friend.
“Mom…Dad…Marble...Limestone…Maud...Grammy…All gone…Never said goodbye…”
I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Pinkie! Snap out of it! Wake up!”
I grabbed her shoulders and shook her, trying to break her out of it. For a moment, it seemed as if my attempt was in vain, but then, her eyes refocused. She blinked several times in a dazed way.
“Davie? Is that you?” she asked, a tone of urgent relief in her voice, as if she wanted to be sure it was me.
“I’m here, Pinkie. It’s all right,” I said, relieved to have her back to her senses.
“Oh, Davie," Pinkie whimpered. "I had the worst dream. I dreamed the farm was empty, and there was nopony left. My parents and sisters were all gone, and I didn’t even know where they were…”
Tears began to well up in her eyes.
“They were all gone, and I’d never even said goodbye…”
Oh, Pinkie...Just the same as I felt…
“Pinkie, that’s horrible,” I said, softly.
I put my arms around her comfortingly, and I felt her hooves wrap around me as well. She didn’t break into sobs, but the tears just sort of ran down her face.
“I think I need some time alone to think,” she said, quietly.
“Of course, Pinkie,” I said, gently. “I understand.”
I got up and headed for the door.
“Wait!” she called.
I paused, and she went into the kitchen, returning with a blueberry muffin, which she placed into my hand.
“Sorry I didn’t have time to make breakfast.”
“It’s ok, Pinkie," I said, with a smile. "This’ll do nicely. I’ll see you later, ok? And don’t fret about it. It was just a dream.”
“Ok. Good luck with your interview thingy.”
“Thanks.”
I bent down and gave her another gentle squeeze-hug, which seemed to relieve some of her earlier anxiety, as I saw a little smile on her face. I took my leave of her, chewing my muffin meditatively, wondering if it was really wise to leave her in such a state, but when I turned back around, she’d already gone back inside.
***
I need not describe all the mundane things I did as I waited for the appointed hour. I mostly milled around, doing what I could to make my Ponyvillian surroundings stick more familiarly in my brain. Of course, there was Sugarcube Corner, Carousel Boutique, the library, the marketplace, and Bon Bon’s Bonbons, but there were other shops and buildings that had escaped my notice before.
There was a store called “Quills and Sofas”, which was one of those 'exactly what it says on the tin' stores: all they sold were feather quills and sofas. There was a fan shop owned by a pony named Mr. Breezy (very apt name, I must say). There was an outdoor café, a bowling alley, a hardware store, a jewelry store, a book shop, a joke shop, and a spa. This last building must have been where Rarity and Fluttershy had their weekly get-togethers.
Hardest to miss of all was the enormous tower in the very center of town, surrounded by a roofed porch. Upon asking a passerby, I learned it was the town hall, and had recently undergone some roof renovations after a certain accident that had taken place. When I asked what kind of accident it was, I was told that it was ‘best not to discuss it’, so I dropped the matter.
Outside the business district and general town area, there was the Ponyville schoolhouse (closed today, obviously), along with a clock tower and a hospital. Last of all was a train station, with trains that wound their way all across Equestria, particularly to Canterlot, though there were also connections to 'Manehattan', 'Fillydelphia', and 'Appleloosa'. It nearly made me groan aloud to hear more punny pony names.
In a word, Ponyville seemed to be a town provided for in every aspect. It was clean, humble, busy, and not bad on the eyes, either. If this was Ponyville, though, I wondered what Canterlot or Manehattan or any of these other towns must look like. I expected that, soon enough, I would hopefully be getting a glimpse of the former.
I had no real other aims than to just wander about, and was taking a stroll through the park, when I became vaguely aware that I was being followed. I grimly wondered if it wasn’t, after all, Ironmane, dogging me once again. Upon turning around, however, I saw that it wasn’t him, but two young unicorn colts, around the Crusaders’ ages. One was short and stout with a blue coat, an orange mane and tail, bushy eyebrows, and prominent buck teeth. His cutie mark was a pair of scissors. The other was very lanky and skinny, with a golden-yellow coat and bluish mane. His cutie mark was a snail.
“Can I help you kids?” I asked.
Neither one spoke at first. They just goggled up at me, as if amazed by what they were seeing.
“He’s tall,” said the yellow colt, in the kind of voice one would expect to hear, in the cartoons, from a dopey, dull-witted sidekick.
“He’s a giant!” said the blue colt, in a rather high-pitched voice.
“Um, thanks, I think,” I said, confused. “Who are you two?”
“Snips and Snails, oh giant from another world,” said the blue colt, bowing low to the ground.
He must have been Snips, given the scissors cutie mark. His friend, Snails, did the same.
Snips and Snails. So these were the two rascals who had tried to prove Trixie really was Great and Powerful. They didn’t seem like bad colts, but didn't give off an impression of great intelligence.
“Come on, kids, none of that,” I said, half-amused, half-annoyed. “I’m not some fierce deity come down to speak among the mortals. I’m just an ordinary guy, and I’d prefer to be treated as such.”
“So humble,” said Snips.
Snails nodded fervently in agreement.
“Is there a reason you two were tailing me?” I asked.
“We heard about you from our friends,” said Snails, “and we had to see if you really did exist.”
“Your friends? I’m guessing you mean Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo.”
“Yeah! Them!” said Snails, eagerly.
“And you didn’t believe them at first?”
“Well, they’re always doing something crazy,” said Snips, “so we thought they were just pretending.”
“I see. I understand your suspicions, then. I know about you two, though,” I added, crossing my arms.
“Y-You do?” asked Snips, surprised.
“I heard from the grapevine that you two were involved in the antics of a certain great and powerful pony.”
“Oh,” said Snips, dejectedly.
Both hung their heads.
“We didn’t mean any harm,” said Snails. “We just wanted to see her vanquish an Ursa Major, like she said she did.”
“I got that impression,” I said, “and while I can’t say it was very smart of you, I sort of understand why you’d go to the trouble. Still, I certainly hope you haven’t tried any such shenanigans again.”
“No, sir!” said Snips, emphatically. “Scout’s honor!”
“But, we’re not scouts,” said Snails, dully.
Snips shushed him sharply.
“Did you kids hear that Trixie was back in town?” I asked.
This perked their interest back up.
“Yeah, we did,” said Snails, shuffling his hoof awkwardly, “but, we didn’t think she’d wanna see us.”
“Not after what happened last time,” said Snips.
“Yeah, I can imagine she wouldn’t be too happy. But come on, I’m not here to make you two feel bad about what happened. It’s all in the past, and all we can do is pave the way for the future, right?”
“Filling children’s heads with your other-worldly ideas, human?”
That voice…My innards contracted upon hearing it. Sure enough, standing right behind the two colts was Ironmane himself. Snips and Snails whipped around, surprised by the sudden appearance.
“You two can run along. I have something I wish to discuss with your friend here.”
Snips and Snails looked up at me, as if asking whether or not to obey. Frankly, I’d rather not have Ironmane around at all, but him and me, one-on-one, was better than having other ponies listening in.
“It’s all right, boys," I said. "You can run along. Maybe we’ll meet up again sometime.”
This brought the smiles back to their faces.
“Bye!” they both said, galloping off, laughing giddily to themselves about what they had just experienced.
“Well, human, it seems you’ve surpassed my expectations,” said Ironmane, as soon as they were out of sight.
“Before I ask how that is, Minister,” I said, “may I ask you something else?”
Ironmane raised an eyebrow.
“You may,” he said, “but whether or not I answer is up to me.”
“Are you staying in Ponyville or something? I figured you’d be up in Canterlot.”
“I do normally reside in Canterlot,” he answered, crisply, “but I thought the more countrified air of Ponyville would do me wonders, after being in the metropolis so long. I’m not as spry as I used to be, you understand.”
(There‘s a shocker.)
“And it has nothing to do with my presence?” I asked.
“Paranoid, are we?” he asked.
“It was only a simple question,” I replied. “Unless you’re implying that there’s something to be paranoid about.”
Ironmane said nothing to that, but went on.
“It is true that the alert of a non-Equestrian called me to Ponyville, but I decided to stay on for a few more days and enjoy the more rural setting. I depart for Canterlot again tomorrow.”
“Well, I wish you safe travels, then,” I said, as a generality, though in all honesty, I’m not sure I meant it.
“Quite,” said Ironmane, in a tone that seemed to imply that he guessed what I was really thinking. “Now then,” he continued, “you remember our little meeting yesterday?”
“How could I forget?”
“Well, it surprises me that in the short interval between then and now, you actually managed to secure a dwelling for that poor little filly.”
“Are you sure it was surprise and not dashed hopes?” I asked, wryly.
“Sir,” said Ironmane, sternly, "I do not appreciate such vulgar implications. How could I sleep at night knowing that there was an innocent foal, homeless and wandering, and I had done nothing to help?”
I was tempted to say ‘Easy, just lay your head down and close your eyes. Problem solved’, but that would have been in bad taste, especially since we were talking about Scootaloo.
“Perhaps that was wrong of me to say,” I admitted, “but yes, I fortunately found someone willing to take her in.”
“And I heard you even had Miss Sparkle carry out the paperwork," said Ironmane. "Very wise of you to choose someone so learned to perform the transactions.”
“I’m guessing you know Twilight?”
“Certainly. I was in Her Majesty’s service even when Miss Sparkle was just a filly in her tutelage.”
“Would you call yourself familiar with her?” I asked, curious.
“Well, not ‘familiar’, per se, but we at least were acquainted. I was too caught up in my duties to so her frequently.”
At this moment, he gave a slight chuckle, as if in fond remembrance.
“But she did sometimes want to ask me about the creatures I’d be appointed to supervise. Such an eager little filly…”
This was utterly perplexing. All this time, I’d been under the impression that Ironmane was a cold, emotionless pony with something against humans. Now, here he was, fondly remembering a moment with Twilight. I didn’t know what to think, but I still didn’t want to let my guard down just yet. It might be true, or it might be a ruse. I still didn’t trust him.
Whatever the case, Ironmane cleared his throat.
“Yes, well, at any rate, I congratulate you in your endeavors.”
“Thank you, Minister.”
“However,” he added, emphatically, looking me straight in the eyes, “do not get a swelled head about your accomplishments, human. Everyone’s luck runs out in the end, so take care not to spend it all at once. Am I clear?”
“Transparent,” I said, flatly.
“And be mindful of what you tell your peers. We wouldn’t want them getting, well, let’s call them the ‘wrong ideas’ about what they don’t understand. Leave that to the proper authorities. Understood?”
It took me a moment to answer. I felt indignant that this would be said within mere hours of my meeting with Twilight. Still, I finally said,
“Yes, Minister.”
“Good. Now, as I do not think we shall meet again for a while, unless you pull another fiasco such as the one in the Everfree Forest, I bid you goodbye and good luck here. Farewell, human.”
“Farewell, Minister,” I said.
He turned sharply around and marched off down the way he’d arrived.
“…And good riddance,” I added, bitterly, when he was out of earshot.
Even if that might not be the last I saw of him, it was a relief to think that he was out of my hair for now, and would be back in Canterlot. I figured maybe I would ask Twilight about him, see what her opinion of him was.
Speaking of Twilight, I saw, glancing at my watch, that it was nearing 11:00. I’d been out and about for at least three hours and hadn’t even realized it. I still had three more to go, so I decided to go grab lunch somewhere and then arrive a little early to the library, just to be prepared. With this in mind, I turned my steps back towards town.
Stats
Page generated in 0.037 seconds
Total duration
996 users online
7,750 hits today, 2,314,256 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
The Minister is a Jerk, i dislike him immensly.
1427905 Maybe string him up by his tail and make a pony pinata?
1427935 Nah we should kill him with fire I have flamethrowers made already.
1429906 But then you wouldn't get candy! Everyone knows ponies are full of candy!
1430565 Yeah but his candy would taste sour so big loss I hate sour anything
It's starting to take too long to solve this issue with this minister, I think.
1431938
To be honest, I really don't know how long this story's gonna go to, but I do have a vague idea of how it'll end up.
While I'm on the subject, if anyone thinks the following chapters should be longer (like, say, 4,000+ words), please let me know. I'd love your feedback.
1435408
Yes, something to that effect.
1455152
Just trying to keep Pinkie being Pinkie. =)
Cutting myself short to comment on this, it's nice to see others that believe in God (Hopefully you also do and it's not just part of his character), I thought I was the only Christian brony in existence.
2522831 Groups: 'Christian Bronies'
i can imagine the guy who voices discord voicing that minister guy, 'cept with a deeper voice
2522831
not to be rude but that is slightly offensive for you are stating that most bronies are atheists
Before I hated the minister's guts, but now I'm assuming he has good reason to be suspicious. Perhaps previous encounters with non-ponies were decidedly unpleasant.
I am Ironmane, spyin' on the human 'cause I can.
All I tend to see in the Minister is the final "BOSS" in fallout 3 you know the guy who is at the water claner thing at the end.
yes pinkie
yes i F*buy some apples* do
1432557 FIX. THIS.
“Well, not ‘familiar’, per se, but we at least were acquainted. I was too caught up in my duties to so her frequently.”
To so.
TO.
SO.
I love this story thus far, but I'm beggining to grow aggitated with the constant stream of religious showings in this story. I personally don't care for religious beliefs, but I know people who are atheist and it gets on thier everloving mind. I ask that u refrain from including these little bursts here and again.
please dont be mad.
HIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!! NH FPGJI!!!!
4385988 wot?
5620641
It means 'It burns', it was a joke.
Trixie is currently on the "Trixie is banking on her reputation to get good prices and somehow Trixie is surprised that it's not working out too well" diet.
I still don't get why he isn't Twilight telling aboit Ironmane, that Charakter makes me angry.
Oh, it is nice to see a character pray for real! For some reason every character in every work behaves, as if God (and even gods) didn't exist and there existed no religion. Whatever the author believe in, no one ever gives their characters belief. But authors ought not to be afraid to shape their characters! Like, since when are people banned from expressing their (or even others') believes? Aren't we all free to have and to express believes, opinions et al., eh?
2726072
Nay, dude, he doesn't. Nothing of a sort. He says, he thought, he was the only Christian brony here. He may have thought the other bronies not to be Christian, but he didn't think them all to be atheists.
3595179
Oh you mean Colonel Augustus Autumn from the Enclave.
she got that venezuela diet