A Second Chance

by nimaru

Bliss

Dart Hoof set off like a bullet with the others trailing close behind. They squealed and laughed as they ran; calling for their mothers who craning their necks to see what the commotion was all about. Moments later, the little ponies hit the trees like a wave, leaping and swirling, crashing to and fro in their excitement.

In short order, the mares grasped what had happened and started cheering as well. Together, between the applause, the squeals, the yelps, and cheers, the ponies created a cacophony of joy… a strangely musical celebration; discordant, but with an undertone of loving harmony.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight, though it was odd… for just a moment, I thought I really did hear a song.

I closed my eyes and strained my ears… but then it was over. The foals bolted back to the field while their mothers, having seen many cutie marks appear in their day, soon returned to their chatter. And with the reverie broken, I finally became aware of the wonderful smell coming from Crystal’s packs.

My stomach made a strong case for sitting down for lunch and a little voice in my head agreed, quietly whispering that I was the cusp of grasping something important and that I should pause a moment to discover what it was. But the restless energy coursing through my body drowned them out.

I excused myself and dashed back out to the meadow where I was instantly swarmed by little ponies. Together, we ran and played in the warm sun and rolled with abandon in the cool grass. I couldn't remember the last time I’d run so hard or laughed so much.

But soon enough, stomachs moaned, mothers called, and the adorable wave flowed back to the trees; each little pony making their way to their respective mothers. Dart Hoof made a beeline for the “leader pony” and I headed for Dusty who was sitting next to her. After distributing food from saddlepacks and brief introductions, the adults and I engaged in light conversation while excitable little ponies focused on market treats.

The older foals and fillies finished quickly and ran back to the field, but some of the younger ones, yawning heavily, nestled close to the mares instead. Protected from cool breeze by their mother’s close embrace or flip of a tail, their eyes began to flutter and heads began to nod. The filly closest to me was already fast asleep and one hind leg was twitching. I giggled.

Dusty looked at me curiously, her face so close that our noses were practically touching. I grinned at her, so happy and content that, without thinking, I extended my neck…

And then turned suddenly and coughed, hoping she hadn’t noticed what I almost did. After a moment, I peeked at her from the corner of my eye and was relieved that she’d resumed her conversation with Glacial Drift. Dusty hadn’t caught on, but Glacial Drift was staring right at me with a knowing smile.

I blushed and averted my eyes; racking my brain to understand what had just happened.

An image popped into my mind of the nuzzle that Winter Willow and Rose had shared that first day. They’d seemed so happy and blissful… I’d almost forgotten until I saw Dusty so close. My eyes slid unbidden to Dusty’s fuzzy snout and I felt a terrible longing. I leaned in her direction…

“Are you alright?” Dusty asked, having noticed the motion.

“Fine!” I said, sounding very guilty. “I’m just… ah… tired.”

“Maybe we should head back then,” she replied, glancing behind me.

Following her eyes, I noticed that several of the mothers had already gathered their goods and young ones and were saying their goodbyes. In any gathering, there comes a point when everybody knows it’s time to go and it seemed that the time had come.

While I was reluctant to let the magic end, it had been a busy day and the thought of heading home… or to Dusty’s home rather… did sound nice.

We stood and parted ways with Glacial Drift and Dart Hoof who waved in his childishly enthusiastic way. I returned it with just as much vigor; hoping that I’d see him again soon.

**************

We plodded through the streets; our hooves striking a steady rhythm on the cobblestone. Dusty seemed preoccupied, but each time I thought to ask her about it, my mind turned instead to the field where, before my eyes, a young pony had found his talent. Somehow I was certain that cutiemarks were the key to my problems, but the days I’d spent searching for answers had only ended in frustration.

Crafters, masters, delivery ponies… I’d probably heard every cutiemark story that Artisan Square had to offer without finding a single clue that would help me solve my own mystery. And yet there was something about the way they told it… the reverence in their voice and the sparkle in their eye.

I could sense that it was important; a critical piece of the puzzle, but it was maddeningly just beyond my grasp… Until, in the seconds following my song, Dart Hoof earned his mark. I always believed music connected hearts, but in this case, the connection was real and lasted just long enough that I felt it through him. And then I finally knew.

What if the ponyverse were alive? An entity so vast and incomprehensible that nopony could normally perceive it. But once, just once, in the instant a young pony discovered their talent, their inner light shone so bright that the cosmos itself took note. And with the might of all creation, it reached across time and space to touch them and whisper their name, saying “I acknowledge you.”

Feeling lightheaded, I turned to stare at my own blank side. Would it feel the same when… IF I earn a mark?

I turned forward again sadly and finally noticed that I was alone. Dusty was gone.

Needing no further encouragement, hidden fears leapt forth. My gut constricted and a chill grasped my shoulders, crawling insect-like down my spine. My legs shook and I felt a dark presence closing in… closer… closer.

Tug

The darkness retreated and my senses returned to normal. I became aware that someone was standing on my tail. Relieved and grateful, I blinked back the tears, took a quick calming breath, and turned around.

“Excuse me…” I started.

It was a mare with gorgeous jet-black hair and soft brown fur. She had a pretty pink flower just behind her ear and one of the most colorful cutie marks I’d yet seen. But the most unusual part about her wasn’t her appearance and it wasn’t the way she resolutely stood on my tail, pinning me in place on the busy street.

It was the way her head hung, her tightly shut eyes, and her gaping mouth from which loud snores escaped in a steady rhythm. The most unusual thing about this pony is that she was fast asleep.

I blinked several times, wondering if I might be seeing things.

Sleeping beauty didn’t budge: not when I politely tried to get her attention, not when I gently tugged my tail. I looked around, and a few passer-bys were looking our way, but nopony… nobody stopped to help. Not knowing what else to do, I sat down.

A few confusing moments later, an irritated voice appeared beside me.

“Luau, let Snow go.”

Like a robot coming to life, “Luau” raised her head, opened her eyes, and closed her mouth in one motion.

“Hello Crystal Quarry,” she said cheerfully. “Good morning!”

“It’s afternoon,” Dusty answered testily. She sounded genuinely irritated this time, but I was still relieved that we were back together.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Luau dismissed with a wave of her hoof. “Well, I have a lot to do so I’ll be off!” she continued before walking past Dusty and turning down a side alley.

I stared after her for a few moments, dumbfounded, until Dusty started off again.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“What was that about?” I laughed as I hurried to Dusty’s side. I was feeling like myself again, but I didn’t want to risk getting left behind.

“That’s Grandmaster Luau,” Dusty answered without looking back. “She’s the one who dumped that huge white block on me. She’s also a little… different… as you can see.”

“Grandmaster?” I asked, looking back to the alley. To think that a pony with a sleeping disorder could hold positions of power… it was heartwarming.

“Yes,” Dusty replied. “She has a talent for organization and has been working harder than anypony else to make the castle ceremony perfect.”

Something in her tone caught my attention.

“You respect her,” I said.

Dusty looked back at me wide eyed before quickly turning forward again.

“Everypony respects her. She’s smart and efficient, but more than that, she’s a local hero. She’s prevented countless construction accidents. Everypony else says she has a weird extra sense about things.”

Another strange tone. “But not you?” I asked.

Dusty cocked her head curiously and flipped an ear.

“Well…” she began slowly. “I don’t know about that stuff, but…”

She stopped walking and stared off into the distance.

“The stranger the things she says, the more likely they are to be true,” she finished.

Yet another tone; this time a little worried.

“Dusty, I…”

“Let’s go,” she interrupted, walking forward suddenly.

************
For the rest of the afternoon, Dusty was a quieter than usual. Though I desperately wanted to ask her about it, I felt that she needed some space. So when she picked at her food during dinner, I let it go. And when she said she was going to take a bath first before she’d finished sculpting for the day, I said nothing.

Instead, I prepared towels (or “drying cloths” as she called them) and then got an early start on cleaning the shop. She always seemed surprised how much I liked to clean and honestly, it surprised me too. But I’d never had magic before…. Cleaning three places at once was challenging, but kept me entertained until Dusty came back in, dripping.

“The fountain’s all yours if you want it. I’m going to work a little more,” she said before vigorously rubbing the water from her face.

I was proud that I managed not to say anything as she picked up her tools, though I did accidentally let out a disapproving snort. She paused and pulled the cloth away to look at me with a raised eyebrow.

Finding her expression hilarious, I laughed and jumped out of the door with no explanation. Feeling whimsical, I hopped the rest of the way to the fountain and then splashed right into the basin. Though I’m sure I would seem very silly to anyone watching, I couldn’t help it. Of the many wonderful things I’d discovered since being a pony, bathing was one of my favorites.

After all, the fountain basin sat in the garden overlooking the even more impressive palace gardens below. And on the far side of that, Canterlot city, the wilds, and the tall mountains. A light breeze blew in spurts setting the plants and trees to waving. Behind me, the fountain was fed by a constant stream of running water that burbled peacefully. The warm evening sun painted the puffy clouds in sunset colors.

I set my snout down on the basin’s edge and closed my eyes. I felt the slowly running water overflowing from the basin and heard it splashing to the ground. For a time, I didn’t think about cutiemarks, or talents, or dreams, or darkness; I just bobbed in the water, delighting in the experience.

It was bliss.

Engrossed in the gentle comfort of the cool water, it took a moment to notice the sound of approaching hooves. Dusty had finished earlier than I expected. Peeking through barely open eyelids, I could see that she was irritated about something again. I giggled close-mouthed so she wouldn’t hear.

Why do I enjoy the company of this moody little pony so much? I wondered.

She was a pony who couldn’t wake up at any normal hour, who avoided socializing unless she had to, and who couldn’t be bothered to clean properly.

And yet, she was patient and kind. She taught me so many things. She forgave my intrusions and constant interruptions. She included me in her life in everything from meals to work to socializing in the square. She was smart, and adorable, and more considerate than she’d ever admit. She probably thought I didn’t notice that she’d taken me to the market to make me feel better… but I did.

Certainly Dusty was my very favorite pony, but more than that. She was an inspiration and my guide and…friend? Yes, surely that. That wasn’t quite right either, but…

“What’s this?” Dusty asked.

She’d finally noticed the water plug I made to keep her from overwatering her plants. As smart and creative as Dusty was, it was a wonder that anything living survived her “care”. So I explained what it was and why I used it, reveling in the chance to teach her something for a change. She seemed a little bewildered, but accepted it easily enough. After all, it was hard to deny that the garden looked much better since I came.

She stared and blinked slowly the way she always did when processing information, but her expression was odd. After a while, I wondered if there wasn’t something more, but before I could ask, a surprise yawn overtook me. By the time I opened my eyes again, the moment was gone.

Darn it! I cursed internally. I was about to press the issue when Dusty suggested turning in early.

I exuberantly agreed. Usually Dusty liked to work late and I never saw her actually come to bed. Excited by the chance to see a new side of her, I followed her inside happily. But then I remembered the mattress.

How do I keep her from seeing? I worried.

I urged her to go upstairs first while I dried off. Then I straightened and dusted and wiped down the shop, even in places that were already clean, stalling for time while I searched for a solution.

If I could have just washed the stains out, I’d have done it long ago, but they were stubborn; needing a thorough soaking. I once became desperate enough to bring a full bucket of water up the stairs to attack it more vigorously, but then realized a sopping wet mattress in the bedroom would lead to just as many questions. Taking it to the roof terrace to dry in the sun was a possibility, but I had a hard enough time just flipping it over that I seriously doubted my ability to maneuver out the door and back… even assuming it would dry in time.

Flipping it daily was my only option and it worked, but if she were right there in the room… what would I say? What excuse could I use to focus her attention elsewhere?

An image popped into my head : She was lying on her blanket pile as I walked into the room. I pointed out the window and yelled, Look! A UFO!

I scowled and slumped my shoulders; setting down the cloth I’d been cleaning with. If that was the best I could come up with, then obviously postponing the situation wasn’t helping. Reluctantly, I headed up the stairs hoping that she was busy with arranging her blankets or at least had her back turned.

When I entered the room, she did have her back to me, but her body language was odd. I was torn between asking her about it and trying to quietly flip the mattress while she was occupied.

Unable to make a decision, I simply said, “You’re still up?”

“Moonrise,” she replied simply.

“Hmmm,” I stalled. My immediate reaction was to go with her and watch it too, but… I flicked my eyes to the mattress… I had something else important to attend to.

“I think I’m going to go ahead and lay down. But I’d love to watch it with you sometime,” I finished. I really did want to go with her, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I just wasn’t ready to let Dusty know about my difficult nights. It was a miracle that she hadn’t found out already!

She nodded, opened the patio door, and walked out. I waited a second and craned my neck as inconspicuously as I could; trying to make sure she wasn’t going to suddenly come back in. With my magic, I flipped the mattress as noiselessly as possible and then quickly laid down with my hooves carefully positioned to keep the stains hidden.

Dusty had left the door open which let in a cool night breeze. Outside the window, I could see the light of the quickly rising moon begin to crawl along ceiling and then the wall.

Though we weren’t together exactly, I took comfort in knowing Dusty was right outside the door. Thinking back, there had been another moonlit night she’d stayed with me as I fell asleep.

It seemed so far away, and yet the memory was crisp in my mind. I was lying on the mattress and she was resting on some blankets below the window. I could almost see her bright eyes watching over me again as she did that night.

I glanced sleepily at the steadily growing blanket pile. I often worried that it wasn’t comfortable, but Dusty would always say it was fine and that she’d slept on the floor many times when working. True or not, to think that she’d do that for me made me smile.

And then, happy, warm, and close to the pony who was dearest to me, I fell asleep.

Author's Note:

All she wants is a little nuzzle :)

Comments

[reader238]

who wouldnt want a little nuzzle

[Hirovard]

Have to say, I love this story, the illustrations help to set the image, and give it that little bit extra. The writing is decent, which can be hard to find, and the story just stirs all the feels :3