Odyssey of a Thief

by Carapace

Web of Shadows: 2. The Cave

Though Twilight would never be heard saying so aloud—at least, nowhere near within earshot of Celestia or Luna—there were definitely a lot of perks that came with becoming an alicorn, enough to balance out the downer of being seen as some sort of authority figure or role model. Enough to make a self-proclaimed Princess of Thieves into an actual princess.

How her habitual stealing stolen artifacts to return to pony kind made her a suitable candidate for Princess of Friendship, Twilight would love to know. Then again, she’d somehow made the villagers and diamond dogs trust her (the latter, before she robbed them blind) and charmed Hadkhûna, so maybe there was something to that.

There was certainly the extra power which came with it; her magic had billowed like a rising wave. There was a bit of a stamina bonus and some durability—something she might need, given her relationship. More importantly, in her experience, were the use of wings.

Oh, did she ever know now why the pegasi crowed about flying so much. There were so many ways to sneak into places, so many arduous climbs cut short with a short flight and a nice, cool breeze through her mane.

The trip to the summit of Mount Thunderhoof took her no time at all. A climb by hoof would’ve taken her most of the day; the flight had taken her a third that time, if only because she had to actually find the mouth of the cave amid the rocks, foliage, and pine trees lining the slopes.

A ledge leading to that black, cavernous maw granted her a nice spot to glide in and land. Much nicer than some caves which didn’t have near the manners to situate themselves near what was essentially a nice, big walkway. With the nice, moderate incline leading to the ledge, one might almost think it was nature’s way of rolling out the proverbial red carpet.

No wonder that gang had thought it a suitable place to cut through—it looked almost like it’d been dug out by pony hooves!

Or, at least, it would have at the dead of night—had she been foolish and desperate enough to go running for the first sign of a hiding place.

Twilight eyed the cave mouth with a hint of a frown playing upon her lips. The inside was complete and total blackness, as if something had stolen away the very light granted by the sun, moon, and all the stars. Whatever Brass Tap had spoken of was indeed a strange creature. If it were still present …

Well, it was a good thing Twilight wouldn’t be making a lot of noise.

She lit her horn with a bright raspberry glow which bathed the pathway ahead in its light, spilled into the very entrance of the cave, and was promptly devoured by whatever lurked within.

And just as Brass Tap said, she did indeed spot a dull glint of steel—swords and pitchforks long rusted over by the elements’ endless assault—and torch handles. With them, she found coins and smaller trinkets littering the ground.

That gang of robbers had been in quite the hurry to make their escape through the cave, and the villagers so horrified they didn’t notice the chance to recoup at least a small fraction of what they’d stolen.

Twilight took a moment to levitate the coins into one of her pouches, separate from both the crown and her own bits so not to run the risk of tempting herself with a fee.

This is for Hadkhûna and the villagers, she reminded herself. No side gigs, no deviating, and, for the love of Celestia, don’t take anything that isn’t on the menu this time!

Setting her jaw, she took a deep breath and strode forward, marching into the unyielding depths of darkness before her.

---

If there was one thing Twilight would say about that story Brass Tap told her, it was that justice most certainly wasn’t done to the sheer depths of the cave. Or whatever it was inside.

Her light spell, the same which lit her way through some of those dark caverns in Erebark and through countless ancient ruins and foreign strongholds before, barely illuminated a space half a pony’s length in any direction before it was swallowed by wisps of the strange sticky substance which hung from the ceiling.

Hung from the ceiling?

No, not quite.

The entire cavern was covered in the stuff. The walls, the floors, the stalagmites, every bit of stone had been covered as if a nation’s worth of spiders had woven a giant web together. Enough so that the sticky silk hung and played teasing games with her coat and mane as it tried to find purchase, tangling with her horn and feathers.

A couple times, Twilight nearly let out a yelp as she walked into a thicker patch. A hanging tangle of webbing as thick as tree branches, no doubt woven for the sole purpose of causing some poor creature to panic and thrash about, tying themselves up and alerting the great spiders who dwelt in these far-off lands.

Thankfully, she’d seen neither hide, nor hair, nor fanged, pony like face of the creatures. She hadn’t even heard the usual shrieks and hissing as her magic’s light stung their faces.

But these webs were so strange. They seemed to capture the very light itself from her spell and swallow it, choking it from the very air. It was as if they would glow, and yet not. Some strange quality, a power which she was certain she’d known before from some text, some legends.

What was it, though?

These thoughts plagued her as she crept deeper and deeper into the cave, all the while searching out for any signs of treasure. Here and there, she would find those coins and a few gems, tangled and buried beneath that strange webbing. And when she did, Twilight made sure to reunite them with their brethren in her pouch.

It was then that she noticed the lumps.

They were large and small. Some tiny enough to be rats, bats, or even the occasional squirrel, others the size of dogs and housecats. Others still, those caught within those thick, tree branch like tangles and hanging from the ceiling, the size of buffalo, diamond dogs, bipedal cats, and …

Ponies.

The latter she only realized when she collided face first with one of those cocoons and saw the mummified remains of some poor stallion, his mouth hanging open in a macabre, almost vacant smile and eyes glazed over and staring up at something long gone, a pair of discolored puncture wounds in his neck on one side betrayed the presence of venom, and the wrinkling in his skin … well, he had no doubt been … quite a meal for one lucky spider. The poor, poor stallion. Or at least, she thought until she noticed the scars, the weapon in his hoof, and the torch handle laying nearby.

Twilight’s jaw dropped. Fifty years. Fifty years after he’d helped rob Brickenbrack, and he was still there. Caught, bound, drained, and long since dead, but in pristine condition, mummified by the strange webbing. She held her breath a moment, as though she were afraid she might startle him from some long sleep if she were too loud, and took a step back, then began to sidle around his cocoon.

Her eyes flitted about, scanning both for more cocooned ponies tangled in webbing and any sign of bags or treasure scattered about. She managed to find a few more coins, but no sign of bags.

Cocoons, on the other hoof …

Before, they had been scattered about, littered here and there to tell the tale of unfortunate creatures who had made the mistake of wandering into the wrong cave to get trapped in varying parts of the massive web. Here, Twilight came into contact with several grouped together in a small cluster, some with weapons and torch handles still hanging entangled near their cocooned forms, others without, but all sharing that same look as she drew closer to inspect—a vacant smile, glazed eyes, a pair of discolored puncture marks, and wrinkling of the skin, twisting their faces like raisins.

There were eight in total, counting her first friend she’d nearly run straight into just a moment prior. Each of them stallions, each drained dry of everything a spider might find tasty and left hanging in their web like some sort of trophy display.

Twilight tasted bile stinging her tongue, but swallowed it down and willed her churning stomach to buck up and quit being squeamish. They’d been through worse—it wasn’t like this was the first time she’d stumbled into a spider’s nest, after all. And the last time, there had been several of them. All present, all hungry.

Not a pleasant experience.

But their webs still didn’t have this light-swallowing quality. Twilight was forgetting something—she hated that feeling so! What in the name of Celestia’s pinions was it? Something about a spider whose webs robbed the world of light as she tried to devour the very ponies who raised the sun and moon in those days. She had children; all spiders were her heirs. But there was one among them left from her direct line, the most powerful, yet most reclusive of them all. Before her little jaunt into Erebark, Twilight might be forgiven for scoffing and calling the tale little more than a story meant to frighten foals. A legend.

Hadkhûna certainly hadn’t been a legend, though. Why couldn’t such a creature be real as well?

It was in the midst of this idle musing that she collided hard with one of the cocoons. Another one, actually, situated just a bit further along into the cave.

She shook her head to clear the proverbial cobwebs, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. Her head ached and rang as though she’d just head butted another pony. Wasn’t that just a lovely notion? Head butting some poor thing after it had been trapped and devoured by a spider.

Blinking, she examined this new cocoon. It was about the same size as the other eight, perhaps just a little smaller. Another pony, no doubt. The poor th—wait.

Twilight dared to pour more magic into her spell, brightening the light at the tip of her horn. Through the woven strands of sticky spider silk, she could see the body, discolored by the slow decay of time and the loss of … well, everything inside. That dopey smile and glazed-eyed gaze up at something unseen were present once more, the wrinkling of the skin and body as well, and, of course, those twin discolored puncture wounds.

Puncture wounds which were nearly hidden beneath a thin, black cord. A necklace.

Her ears perked up. Could it be? Morbid though it was, Twilight licked her lips. Carefully, gently, she molded her spell to snake a tendril of glimmering raspberry light between the spider silk and wrapped it around the pony’s head. Her spell began to fizzle and sputter out, as if some disruption meant to dissipate it. But before the soft glow of her magic faded away, it revealed a set of topaz earrings that matched the necklace that had first caught her eye.

Bingo. Twilight grinned. Thieves found, leader identified, and now all she had to do was find the stolen treasures from Brickenbrack. As for Hadkhûna’s gift …

Well, she did have quite the morbid sense of humor. Perhaps this necklace and earrings?

She was more than welcome to some thief’s ill-gotten trinkets. It wasn’t like this was the first time Twilight had pried something precious off a body, anyway. And, normally, whoever or whatever put them there wasn’t kind enough to leave them out in the open, ripe to be picked clean.

But that begged the question: how was she to get them off the body? Was it the light spell dissipating, or magic itself?

Curious, she reached out with her magic as if to take hold of a few strands of spider silk. A few tendrils of varying size and strength, just to test how quickly they might break, if at all.

One by one, each tendril fizzled and sputtered out before they could come in contact with a single strand. Twilight furrowed her brows. She knew spider silk could be a bit resistant to magic, it was harder to get a good grip or get spells to stick than most substances, but never like this!

Would other spells work? Maybe with more strength behind them?

An interesting question to be sure, one she would love to test if she didn’t need the cave and web intact so she could find the blasted goods they’d stolen. Speaking of which, where was it all? Surely they hadn’t had the chance to find a hiding spot in this place. Certainly not if that story of them sprinting into the cave mouth at full gallop was true.

Who could be so focused while sprinting through the wispier bits of webbing before getting caught and entangled in these larger, thicker sections and then, presumably, cocooned and bitten as the stunned villagers watched?

No. They couldn’t have. Not unless one of them brought up the rear and stashed everything, perhaps the first stallion she’d found. Still, though, why would they want to leave their spoils in such a place with the villagers on their tails?

She could ponder these questions after she relieved the late gang leader of her decorations and found the rest of the goods. Better yet, she could ponder all she wanted after she got the hay out of this creepy cave.

Twilight reared up on her hind hooves and began the arduous job of trying to tug those stubborn webs apart. They held fast, sticking to her hooves and coat like a stubborn piece of gum, drawing a curse. Why couldn’t silly things like these ever cooperate? With a grunt and flap of her wings, she pulled hard, jerking the entire cocoon out of place. It swung up like a swing, the tangly, sticky tendrils of spider silk pulling against her, desperate to hold onto their prize.

“Oh, come on!” she snarled. “Come on, you stupid, sticky, gross, Celestia-forsaken little—ack!”

A few strands of sticky spider silk snapped off the cocoon with a sharp crack! The sudden loss of purchase sent Twilight tumbling backward tail over head in a flailing mess of wings and limbs. The back of her head hit hard against a stone, sending stars bursting before her very eyes.

Blinking owlishly, Twilight let out a soft groan and clutched at her head. Another flurry of muttered curses spilled forth from her lips, a few so vulgar, she dared imagine even Luna’s jaw would drop.

She glared up at the cocoon, eying the newly bared spot on the mare’s neck as she began to rise. Hopefully, it would be enough for her to slip a tendril of magic in and just cut the silly thing free.

Twilight trotted over and cast her spell again, slipping a thin tendril of magic into the little patch she’d just created. To her delight, the spell didn’t falter before she was able to snip the cord and slide the beautiful topaz necklace out of the cocoon, and retie it so the beautiful stones didn’t slip off into her bottomless pouch. The same one she kept the crown. One part down. Next up, the earrings.

That’d sure be fun.

The mare reared up once more and began to try to pry the silk apart. The curses spilled from her mouth in an unintelligible mumble, fast and furious as the raging Falls of Ancients’ Tears. She would have to take a bit more care this time. Just tug it apart a little and remove the earrings.

It was a slow, arduous task for what little gap she could create—what little gap she needed to slip that tendril of magic in and snag that first earring to be rescued into the safety of her pouch. Then it was time to shimmy her way around so she could reunite it with its sister, still trapped and suffering in its place on the dead mare’s ear.

Twilight blinked. “I’m personifying trinkets now,” she muttered as she slipped the second earring into her pouch. “Hadkhûna would laugh hard enough to shake the earth if she ever heard.” With her macabre jewelry shopping complete, she turned away and began to focus her magic back into that lighting spell, scanning the sticky, web-covered floor and walls around her for any sign of those bags.

As she moved to begin her search anew, something small and hard struck her high on her left cheek, just below her eye. Twilight let out a startled yelp, bringing a hoof to her face purely by reflex. “What in the name of—ow!” Another tiny missile struck her, this time bouncing off her chin. Her keen eyes flitted about, she squinted to try to spot out anything moving about in the darkness.

She brought her hoof away from her cheek. Nothing had been embedded in her skin, nor was there any blood. If anything, it was a small blessing. No cuts or blood meant there was little chance of poison.

Was something just flinging little things at her?

Another sharp pain bit her shoulder. Twilight turned about and swung her hoof in a wide arc, cursing as it entangled with a few strands of webbing. She jerked herself free and stomped forward, toward the direction she best guessed the missiles were coming from. A guess confirmed when one bounced off the tip of her nose, hitting harder and more centered than before.

With a quick burst of magic, she made her light spell flare up brighter, both to try to pierce through that strange webbing and blind whoever or whatever was launching this assault.

A tiny squeak of shock to her immediate left drew a flick of her ear. Her hoof came in contact with something warm and furry, Twilight gave a little growl and swiped her hoof at it, fully thinking she’d at least clip her adversary’s shin so she could get a look and subdue it.

Instead, her hoof struck something furry, warm, and tiny, perhaps the height of a soccer ball at most. But the instant her hoof struck her attacker, there was another squeak, and her hoof continued on an arc. The squeak turned into a tiny shriek that faded off as if she’d just picked up some small rodent in her magic and given it a toss across her mother’s garden.

Then, from deep within that darkness, came a second gasp—this, one of concern, like a mother finding her foal laying injured and bloody on the playground. “Angel? Angel!” a feminine voice cried.

There was another pony—a mare—here? Here, of all places?

Twilight blinked twice. “What in Equestria?” she muttered under her breath. “Hello?” she called into the darkness. “Is somepony there?”

“Oh, Angel!” that voice warbled. Twilight could almost picture the mare sweeping whoever this “Angel” was into her hooves, hugging it tight against her chest. “Oh, my poor, poor Angel! Who did this to you?”

A new sound floated through the cave. Like a tiny, chattering voice, similar to a squirrel’s call, replying in kind. As it finished, there was an angry hiss.

A scuttling and clicking sound filled the cavern, tickling Twilight’s ears with the strange, almost alien sound. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Almost. Not nearly enough for her taste.

Oh, if only it were.

This cave wasn’t an abandoned spider’s nest at all.

“How dare you?” the spider hissed. The scuttling drew closer, that clicking sound grew louder and louder with each passing second. Twilight could just feel the venom dripping from those sharp fangs. “How dare you, you vile, nasty little mare!”

The spider stepped into the light and Twilight’s jaw promptly dropped. She was tall, enough so that Twilight’s snout was maybe level with her thorax if she was being completely generous. Her chest was covered in sunny yellow fur, and her eight legs were longer than Royal Guard spears and just as thick.

She didn’t stay long enough to look into her eyes or see her face. The instant Twilight saw a pair of pony-like hooves reaching for her and heard a hiss telling of the spider’s lunge, she let out a squeak and cast a quick teleport spell, her intended destination about halfway down the mountain, well out of reach.

Instead, Twilight blinked back into existence maybe four or five strides away, right beside the long-dead mare.

Horror filled her chest as the realization kicked in. The webbing could interfere with teleportation spells too!

Another hiss made her ears splay. “No! You’re not going anywhere!” the scuttling sound returned, heading toward with such quickness she could almost feel the spider’s breath upon her coat, the pointed tips of those venomous fangs upon her neck.

Twilight teleported again, just out of reach. She couldn’t escape the cave, but she could at least stay a few steps ahead. Thinking quickly, she killed her lighting spell and glanced around for the cave mouth, searching out a hint of sunlight. Her ears would serve as her warning.

And when that scuttling, hissing spider drew near again, she blinked right back out of existence and appeared a few yards away. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath.

“You get back here, you nasty thing!” the spider demanded.

Something wispy and sticky latched onto her shoulder. Twilight let out a yelp and shot off a bolt of magic to slice straight through the spider silk, her eyes wide in horror. She ducked low, just in time to avoid a follow up, and turned to flee as fast as her hooves could take her.

She felt another strand latch onto her hoof and tug back, dragging her a few steps before she could afford to turn and fire off another bolt and stumble forward. That angry hiss spurred her to gallop faster as Twilight swerved around one of those cocooned stallions, quickly skirting the lumpy mass of webbing to use it as a shield. Her relief was only temporary; the spider simply climbed over the remnants of those past conquests with as much effort as one might climb the steps of their mother’s porch.

Ahead, she could see sunlight filtering through the cave mouth. Twilight nearly allowed herself a smile. But her goal was quite a ways off, and there was a furious spider right on her tail—she felt the sudden sensation of spider silk catching on her flank and tugging her backward, her hooves skidding across the web-covered floor before she sliced the tendrils and hurried onward.

Again and again, she had to fight and retread her steps each time that furious spider was able to get a web on her. And each time, she knew her hunter was getting closer. A panicked look over her shoulder shone light on the yellow-furred chest and gave a glimpse of fangs glinting in the sunlight. Just in time to see her turn to aim her spinnerets for another try.

Another teleportation spell just barely saved her from a strand of webbing as thick as her leg. That could’ve spelled her doom. If those thin tendrils could disrupt her spells, those that caught and entangled the spider’s past victims would almost certainly rendered her escape impossible.

It was time to take some drastic action.

Turning, Twilight walked backward toward the cave mouth, angling herself so she could see everything as she prepared her next spell. She’d only get one shot, so she’d have to make it count. Timing would be critical.

Her ears twitched at the sound of the spider mare scuttling off to her left, then again as she heard a sound like a fishing line whipping through the air. Only her quick thinking saved her—Twilight just barely managed to get her left hoof up in time to block a thick strand of spider silk aimed at her face, just beneath her horn.

Twilight dug in her hooves and began to try to pull against her would-be captor, jerking and grunting, adding in a frightened little whimper to her breathing to sell it.

The scuttling hastened, a victorious croon filled the cavern. What predator wouldn’t delight in such delicious display of fear? A fact Twilight learned quite well as she found herself tugged so hard her hind hooves nearly came off the ground. She stumbled forward, her shin struck hard upon a stone.

A hoof caught her around her extended hoof and tugged her forward, her face colliding with the spider’s furry chest as the other gripped her shoulder. She was lifted up and angled, ready to be cocooned.

“Now,” the spider mare crooned, a hint of underlying venom to her tone, “let’s get you tucked in for your nap, you mean little—”

It was at that moment Twilight set her plan into motion. She lashed out with her injured hoof, planting a stiff elbow into the spider’s midsection as she let out a cry and cast an overcharged light spell mere inches from her startled captor’s face.

The effect was instantaneous. The spider mare shrieked and recoiled, her hooves releasing Twilight in favor of trying to cover her pony-like face; all eight of her sky blue eyes went wide for a split second before they squeezed shut and her powder pink mane fell over them like a veil. She staggered backward in a clumsy, zigzagging pattern, one hoof flailing about in a wide arc—either to search out something to lean against or to keep herself from bumping into a stalagmite or one of the cocoons.

All the chance Twilight needed. Gripping the webbing in her teeth, she tugged hard and snapped it with the help of another spell. Then, she turned and sprinted for the exit as fast as she could, not daring to turn and look back for fear of finding that spider mare right on her tail once more, angrier than ever and hungry for an order of the Princess of Thieves special.

Twilight kept her eyes trained on the cave mouth, her lone hope. She was maybe twenty steps away! Fifteen! She could make it! No matter how fast that spider mare scuttled along or whatever “Angel” tried, there was nothing to stop her!

Ten steps! Five! Oh, Twilight could practically taste the sweet taste of fresh air! She could feel the sun’s warmth as the glow filtered in from outside!

Then, suddenly, a thick strand of spider web seemed to jump off the ground and entangle her hooves. Twilight tumbled forward head over tail, her flailing limbs tangled in that offending strand before she could even realize.

Her heart skipped a beat. No! No, no, no, no, no! The mare wriggled and writhed, kicking as hard as she could to try to free herself.

A hiss sounded just above her. Twilight had only enough time to look up and see the spider mare glaring down at her through those eight eyes, her face silhouetted by the shadows cast by the sun’s light. Her fangs glinting, she let out a hiss and descended on the fallen mare, her hooves and spinnerets making quick work to pin Twilight’s wings against her sides and bind them in place. Within seconds, she was fully cocooned, leaving only her head and neck uncovered.

Uncovered, exposed, and easily reached by those lethal fangs.

The spider mare hauled her up roughly, holding her level with all eight of her eyes. Twilight could see her face—an admittedly pretty face, she wagered, when it wasn’t contorted in righteous fury. She could see a certain look in her eyes which, honestly, didn’t quite belong on a spider’s face—a look of fury the likes of which only a mother could know.

“You come into my cave,” the spider mare whispered, “you tread all around my web, you poke at the cocoons of those nasty, nasty thieves, and then you hurt a poor, innocent bunny! How dare you!”

Twilight tried to keep her thoughts in order, a flurry of questions all battling for supremacy. Above all others, one prevailed. “Wait, what bunny?”

“What bunny? What bunny?” came the furious reply. “The sweet little bunny you kicked across my cave, you nasty, mean mare! My sweet Angel Bunny! Just because you’re bigger and stronger and you can hurt someone doesn’t give you the right to be a bully! And now—” she bared her fangs in a wicked grin, opening her jaws wide “—you’re going to take a nap just like all the others!”

As her captor loomed over her, Twilight’s mind worked fast, piecing together all the details even as she saw a bead of venom roll down onto of those fangs. Nasty thieves, entering her home—well, her web, but semantics—treading all over her web, and then something with a bunny?

The first three made sense, she was certainly guilty of each. That last one she didn’t quite get. When had she done anything of the sort? All she’d done other than entering the spider mare’s home and poking around those cocoons was react after getting hit in the face. Sure, there was the little thing she’d hit, but—wait a minute.

It finally clicked.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Twilight cried wriggling in vain to try to throw her hooves up over her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and did her best to turn her face away, but the webbing held her fast. “Iknowwhathappenedit’samisunderstandingpleasewaitIdidn’tmeantohurtyourbunnyIcamefromthevillage!”

She never expected it to work. In all honesty, Twilight fully expected that she would feel the sharp sting of fangs piercing her flesh, the burn of venom entering her bloodstream before it worked whatever wicked games it played on its victim’s minds. By Celestia, she half expected that Hadkhûna would come looking for her in a few hours, worried that she’d either been hurt or anxious at being abandoned, and find her dead and fly into an unrivaled, unyielding rage.

It didn’t come.

Seconds passed by slowly, each a small eternity to the captive mare. Hesitantly, Twilight dared to crack open an eye and look up at her captor’s face, ready to see that grin widening, maybe even to hear her give a wicked laugh at the tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes before she followed through on that threat.

Instead, she saw all eight of those baby blue eyes blinking in confusion, and the spider mare’s wicked grin slowly fading and lips folded over her teeth. Those lethal fangs remained, however, poking down from behind her upper lip as she slowly tilted her head. “I’m sorry, what do you mean you came from the village?” she asked, narrowing each of her eyes. “The villagers are sweet ponies who used to laugh and play in my forest before those nasty thieves came! The villagers don’t send rude mares to poke around my web or kick my darling Angel! The villager mares aren’t rude little mares like you trying to pick at the spoils of the ugly witch who came here and hurt my old bunny friends and wouldn’t leave and give back what she stole when I begged her to think of who she was hurting! The villagers aren’t thieves like you … you … who even are you?”

A lot of accusations, some not too far off the mark. But others?

Well, she was a thief. Knowledge she’d happily part with if it saved her life.

In this case, it just might.

“Y-You’re not wrong,” Twilight stammered. “I’m a thief—some even call me the Princess of Thieves. But I don’t steal things from those who own them properly, I avail others of things they’ve taken and return them to where they belong. For a bit of a price.”

“How generous,” the spider mare deadpanned. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve came to the village to offer them their belongings back for you own welfare? How much did you demand? A third? Half?”

Twilight shook her head as best she could in the confines of her cocoon. “None! They were kind to me when I was passing through on my way to the other side of the river!” she explained. “I was looking for something to get my … um … well, lover, I guess would be the word.”

“And they told you about their lost belongings? Were you thinking to liberate them of—”

“The mare’s necklace and earrings were meant to be a gift!” Twilight cut her off before she could work herself into another tizzy. “When they told me everything else was still here, I offered to get it back for them—the story about the necklace was their payment.”

The spider mare thought for a moment, a flurry of emotions flashing across her face. “I see,” she muttered after a moment. “That doesn’t answer who you are, little Princess of Thieves.”

“Twilight Sparkle. And you are?”

“My name is Skittershy,” the spider mare replied slowly. “I don’t believe I’ve heard yours before.” Her lips curved into a frown. “And you’ve not explained how you could possibly miss my darling bunny, or excuse yourself for laying hoof upon him.”

Splaying her ears, Twilight glanced off into the shadows. Skittershy. Oh, she knew that name.

There was only one of Gloomweaver’s insidious line who survived Celestia’s wrath in the time before the first age.

More to the point, though, was her current question. Where the hay even was that blasted rabbit?

“It might sound silly,” she admitted. “But I didn’t even know he was there. Something small and hard kept hitting me in the face, like somepony was shooting barbs out of a blowgun or pebbles at me out of a slingshot. I turned to look for them and meant to kick them in the shin. Instead, I kicked something—your bunny, evidently—across the cave and woke you up.”

Skittershy’s eyes went wide, her mouth dropped open and hung for a moment. Slowly, her brows—all four of them—began to furrow. She drew Twilight in close, leaning in to inspect her face. With a low hum, she let her eyes flit about, her frown deepening each time she found a mark, and her eyes each narrowing more and more.

Her nostrils flaring, she gritted her teeth and stomped three of her left legs. “I told him!” she snapped. “I told him not to start trouble—oooooooooooh! He’s just like his father!” Skittershy held Twilight under one of her forehooves and stalked back into the cave with an angry hiss. “Angel! Angel! Angel Bunny, you come out this instant!”

A tiny yelp off to their right made Skittershy jolt. She lashed out with her free hoof, plucking the furry little miscreant from his hiding spot behind a deer-sized cocoon by the nape of his neck.

Angel Bunny wore a nervous smile, so much like a foal trying to feign innocence in the midst of misbehaving, his little paws hidden behind his back.

Growling, Skittershy turned him around in her hoof to reveal his weapon—a slingshot made of what looked to be a small stick and a rubber band.

“You naughty little bunny! You told me she kicked you for no good reason at all! Oh, you’re just like your father—and his before him!” The furious spider mare turned to aim a sheepish half-smile at Twilight. “I’m so sorry about this, he’s really a sweetheart. Most of the time. Sometimes.” Her smile strained. “Please don’t hold it against him. He’s young, in that troublemaking phase all bunnies have.”

Did bunnies actually? Twilight certainly wasn’t fool enough to argue while still cocooned and tucked under her foreleg like a doll. “I’ll … take your word for it?”

Skittershy gave a relieved sigh, her smile warmed. “Thank you.” As quickly as it came though, her smile turned into a stern frown as she aimed her gaze at Angel once more. Just as he thought to try and wriggle his way free. The uneasy grin he sent her way did little to appease her ire. “As for you, mister! You’re going straight to bed without dinner! And if I catch you trying to sneak snacks, I’ll cocoon you for the night! Just see if I don’t!”

Twilight could do little but watch in muted fascination as they bantered back and forth, Skittershy playing the part of scolding mother and Angel the naughty foal caught with a ball in hoof near a shattered vase.

As fun as that was, she did rather want to get out of that cocoon. Preferably, before claustrophobia started to kick in.

The young mare coughed. “Um, I don’t mean to interject,” she cut across them. “But would you mind letting me out of this cocoon, Skittershy?”

With a yelp, Skittershy set Angel down on a little clump of webbing and set about undoing her bonds. “I’m so sorry! I just got so caught up in—oh, heavens, you’ll know when you have one of your own, I’m sure.” An uneasy laugh escaped her lips. “I’ve cared for his family for so long it’s like they’re mine, and they’re always such troublemakers, much as I love them. You’ll understand someday.”

“Again, I’ll have to take your word for that.” Twilight squirmed her way free, breathing a sigh of relief when she was finally able to stand on her own power again, albeit with a jolt of pain in her hoof from where she’d been jerked across the cave. Still, she offered a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate you listening.”

“Of course.” Skittershy rubbed her shoulder, her eyes flitting away. “I’m sorry I threatened to eat you.”

A wry grin made its way across Twilight’s face. “You’d be surprised how often I get that threat. You’re the second one to listen to me, and the first to actually stop without me having to flirt and trip into wooing you.”

Four brows arched. “That sounds like quite the tale. Dare I ask?”

“I did tell you I was getting the necklace and earrings for my lover. She adores shiny things.”

Skittershy nodded. “That would explain it.” She bit her lip, scuffing a leg across the ground. “I suppose you’ll want to take the villagers’ belongings back, then. I … well, I won’t lie, I’m rather happy to see it returned to them. Though I would’ve hoped they’d come up themselves.”

Come up themselves? Twilight tried to think how best to word her statement. “They were startled,” she settled on.

“Terrified,” Skittershy corrected. “I saw them running. Ponies I once sang to in the forest and let them try to find me as foals, running and screaming because they saw what I did to those thieves. Because I was so angry they’d hurt my bunnies and my villagers that I lost my temper and acted just like my mother. Just like I promised I never would.”

“You sang to them?” Gaping, Twilight stepped toward her. “You’re the one Brass Tap told me about?”

Yellow ears perked up. “Little Brass Tap remembers me?” she breathed.

“He told me they used to play in the forest and try to find a mare with a beautiful voice, and she’d always tease them for coming so close, but never catching her.”

“Oh! Oh, my!” Tears welled in each of her eight eyes. Skittershy covered her mouth with her hooves. “Oh, my little Brass Tap! That sweet little colt! He still remembers, after all this time! I thought he and the others had forgotten.”

Twilight took another step, wincing through the pain. “They were scared. I don’t think they ever forgot you, Skittershy.” She threw caution to the wind and dared to lay a hoof on the spider mare’s trembling elbow. “They’re afraid because of what their parents saw, but they don’t know why you did it. They never knew you attacked those thieves because you were angry on their behalf and wanted to protect your bunnies. I doubt they even thought you might want them to come back and get their things all this time.”

Skittershy let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a choked sob. From his spot on the webbing, Angel hopped onto her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek, earning a little pat on his head. “Thank you, honey,” she murmured. To Twilight, she said, “I waited so long I started to think about just taking it all down there myself. But each time I did, I thought back to that night and just …” her voice trailed off and broke, her body wracked with a fresh bout of sobbing.

Everything fell into place before Twilight’s eyes. This wasn’t some monstrous terror from the deep. No, that had been Skittershy’s mother in an age long-forgotten by most of pony kind.

This was a poor spider mare who had her own little slice of paradise—a perfect web for capturing unwary prey, a nice cave in the mountains, a forest where she could venture out and sing while she watched the ponies play and grow up before her eyes, and a bevy of bunny friends to care for.

All of it gone thanks to a few ponies’ actions and her own temper.

She licked her lips. “What if I told you there was a way to make things right?” Twilight offered. “It might not fix everything and put it all back to how things were, but it would at least make them see you for the spider you’ve always been, not the one they saw that night.”

Sniffling, Skittershy uncovered her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, her coat stained with tears, but she met Twilight’s gaze all the same and perked up her ears.

Twilight had to kick the sardonic part of her that wondered which pair of eyes she was supposed to meet as she launched into her salesmare pitch. Of all the silly things to distract herself, that was the last one that needed to be at the forefront.

Maybe after things had settled down and she was absolutely certain her place was as far off the menu as possible.

Comments

[manacar]

Lol so this part 2 and what I just read was part 3 well at least I can read the bits I missed since it did confuse me thx

[Carapace]

9562649 Yes, you are correct. I'm just kinda debating on facedesking straight through my desk rn because this has been a gong show on my end for the past 9 days or so.

[Cerulean Blue]

Hadkhûna (Rarity) is a dragon, perhaps the last of her line.
Skittershy is a ponyspider, perhaps the last of hers.

If Twilight ever gets all of her current and impending friends together for lunch in Ponyville, the residents won't come out of their homes for weeks.

[MR35]

9562894
I hope AJ's a Timberpony
I wonder what Pinkie or Rainbow will be?

[Vaalintine]

Well, that's a twist I never saw coming.