> Late Bloomer > by An Unimpressive > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I sure am glad the mating season is over,” Lyra said with a shiver. She, Bon-Bon, and Roseluck were walking through one of Ponyville’s many market areas, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. “Ugh, I know,” Bon-Bon droned, rolling her eyes as the three walked past the cherry stand. “Having to be with stallions. Just so…” She shuddered. “I don’t know,” Roseluck said, piping up from behind the two. “I think it’s kind of nice, in a way. Everypony just forgets about everything else and just comes together, in a… um…” Realizing just how she had phrased things, a deep blush came to her white-coated cheeks, matching her mane perfectly. Her two friends rounded on her, their ears drooping in disgust. “Ew, straight,” Lyra said, backing up a few paces. “You actually like being with stallions?” “What a breeder.” Bon-Bon chuckled as she draped a possessive foreleg around her unicorn marefriend. At the sound of the word breeder, numerous pony heads swiveled to stare at Roseluck. Murmurs shot up all around her, as the various couples narrowed their eyes suspiciously at her, if they could be bothered to tear their attention away from their beloved. Days ago, the overwhelmingly homosexual population of Equestria had been forced to be with somepony of the opposite gender for a week to ensure foals would actually be born, so now that that laborious time had passed and ponies were free to be gay again, love was in the air. “N-no, I’m no breeder!” Roseluck protested, stomping for emphasis. Soon, most of the assembled ponies lost interest, returning to their adorable gay makeout sessions. With most of the would-be heterophobes tonsil-deep in each other’s throats, Roseluck relaxed and turned to her friends. “I mean, you two both know I’m a huge lesbian, right?” She widened her eyes, giving them her best pleading look. “Right?” Bon-Bon chuckled. “Aw, Rose. Of course! Hard to say no when you do that look.” Lyra licked her lips, her eyes seductively half-closed. “Hard to say no indeed.” That earned her a hard bop between the ears from her companion. “Ouch, Bon-Bon! But seriously, Rose. You haven’t been with anypony in a while. You okay? Want to borrow me for a while?” She dodged another swipe from Bon-Bon’s jealous hoof. Roseluck sighed and walked past the pair, getting the trio moving again. “I’m just waiting for the right pony to come along. That’s all.” Her friends caught up. “Don’t worry. She’ll come along,” said Bon-Bon, ruffling Rose’s mane with her hoof. “A mare as great as you? You’re destined for a good one. Just be patient.” Roseluck smiled at her. “Thanks. I will.” Lyra, who had shifted anxiously for a few moments, started. “Bon-Bon?” She leaned in conspiratorially, craning her neck like a giraffe and putting it as close to her marefriend’s ear as possible. In a whisper that was clearly audible from several hundred feet away, she said, “Diet oat smoothies. With cherries.” Bon-Bon went red in the face. “W-we have to go.” The two dashed off towards their house, bowling over a few unfortunate souls who weren’t alert enough to dodge the two rampaging mares. Roseluck shook her head. “Those two really need to make their code words less obvious.” She made a mental note to avoid their house for a while, lest she hear noises that would lead to mental images she would not be able to unsee. She continued on, moving idly through the streets. The market was deserted of shopkeepers for the most part, with most ponies taking the day off in order to spend the day with their special somepony. Still, some self-sacrificing souls kept their stores open to bring happiness to others. Mrs. and Mrs. Cake were two such ponies, judging by the long line of Ponyville residents waiting to enter Sugarcube Corner. Roseluck didn’t need any sweets, however, so she steered clear. Bon-Bon usually plied her with enough new creations to keep her sweet teeth more than sated on most days anyway. Most of the time, Lyra was happy enough to act as taste tester, but even the happy-go-lucky Lyra began to worry about her weight after eating sweets all day. “Maybe I should just head home,” she whispered, feeling all the couples staring into each other’s eyes, with a distinct lack of anypony staring into hers. However, as she turned to do so, a store’s sign caught her eye. “Sofas and Quills…” As fate would have it, she had run out of quills just that morning; the thought of having to use another daffodil to write made her cringe. She didn’t imagine the flowers’ stems minded a quick dip into her inkwell, but the act left her with a strange, lingering guilt she couldn’t quite place. “One stop.” The door yielded to the touch of her hoof. The shop’s proprietor, a tan earth pony wearing a plain blue vest, stood slumped over an oak sales counter, snoring. Surrounding him were couches of various makes and colors, some gaudy, some plain, all sitting on an almost offensively drab green carpet that hardly covered the plain wooden floor beneath. Roseluck couldn’t help but chuckle. “All those sofas, and you pick a spot like that to take a nap?” She tapped him on the nose with her right forehoof, tweaking the very tip of his schnozz just a bit. “Wha? I swear I’ll be good, Mom…” he mumbled, wrenching his eyes open. Upon seeing one very amused mare before him, he jerked upright. “Er, hello, and welcome to Quills and Sofas. We have sofas, and we have…” He yawned, trying and failing to cover his mouth with a quavering hoof. “Quills, right?” Roseluck smiled. Davenport was still trying to get his eyes to focus; apparently, he’d been asleep for a while. The perils of running such a specialized store didn’t extend to one’s sleep schedule, or so it seemed. “Those’re the ones.” He slapped himself on both sides of his muzzle in quick succession, trying to rouse himself. Judging by his rapid, sleepy blinks, Roseluck was unconvinced he had been successful. “We’re out of those right now, though.” “Again? I swear, ponies who come in here for quills never find any here.” She leaned over the counter, looming over the larger pony, who shrank back. “Do you even stock quills?” His ears shot up, and he recovered, zipping around to her side. “Me! Not stock quills? Ridiculous! What kind of low-down salespony would lure a customer in with promises of one product, only to just have another that sold at a higher profit margin and was less hassle in ordering since this hypothetical salespony would deal in less volume?” He coughed. “No ma’am, not me.” Rose gave him a glare, looking over every inch of his body, as though searching for a suspicious hair on his body. She lingered on his cutie mark: a quill above a blue couch. Surely, with such a cutie mark, he had to have quills in sometime. “Er… miss…” With alarm, she realized her face had drifted closer and closer to his rear; she was close enough that she could have licked his cutie mark. She drew back abruptly, blushing. “Oh! I didn’t… I’m not…” A faint blush was upon his cheeks as well. “That’s… fine? I just… what were you doing?” Don’t say admiring don’t say admiring don’t say admiring he does have a nice butt though why did I think that. “Well, you see, I was, uh…” Seeing no way out of the situation, she decided to borrow a page from Lyra. “Smokebomb!” she yelled, dashing out the door as one very confused salespony stared after her, as Roseluck had not had any such smokebomb on her. The next day, she found herself walking with Daisy and Lily, as she often did. Although they were chatting away, excited over their respective reunions with their marefriends (whom Roseluck had never met, somehow), Roseluck found herself smiling and nodding with nothing to say. “And then, she told me all about how awful the stallion she was stuck with was!” Daisy said. “I guess he wouldn’t stop talking about his husband and colts back at home. I mean, can you imagine how annoying that would be? It’s not like having to be with some smelly male is bad enough already, but he just wouldn’t shut up about his lover!” Roseluck snorted as they passed a café. “How insufferable.” Daisy tittered. “I know, right? So anyway, that was just what Apple Leaves was saying! Oh, but she’s so wonderful. She sent me letters every day, gushing about how she couldn’t wait to be with me again. I have to be the luckiest mare in the world, and Apple does like to gush…” Roseluck tuned her out as Lily nattered on about things she didn’t care about. Did everypony have to be so insufferably gay all the time? Some steps and sing-song, annoying words from her friends later, Rose heard her name. “What?” She looked up at an expectant Lily. “So how bad was your stallion? Had to have been just awful for you to be speaking so little. Throat still sore? He not know which en—” “Lily!” Rose squeaked, heat rushing to her face. “What’s wrong with you? You know that wasn’t the case!” Daisy tilted her head to the side. “Actually, we don’t. You haven’t said anything about whatever poor excuse for a colt you got stuck with this year.” Rose sat on a nearby bench. Her friends crowded on both sides of her, making Roseluck feel warm, despite the cool breeze blowing through town. “He was this weird stallion. Earth pony, brown coat, kept mumbling about alternate dimensions and looking around like something was off. Claimed he was a doctor, but a doctor of what I have no idea.” “Sounds boring!” Lily remarked, getting up with a frown. “Here I was hoping you’d have some involved story that would make it interesting. He sounds like an interesting pony, at least.” “He really wasn’t. Tried way too hard to be quirky and funny, I think, and it just made him seem odd and annoying. Couldn’t stand him.” Rose sighed. “I guess that’s why I’m moody. It uh… I mean, this season’s bad enough without getting a bore, right?” she said, affecting a joking tone to mask her malaise. Her friends laughed along with her, and for a moment, despite her deception, Roseluck felt like a part of the trio again. Then, they happened to pass by Quills & Sofas. “I’ll… catch up with you later, girls. I need some quills.” Do I, though? “Okay! And let me know if you want me to set you up with anypony again. After the bore that stallion was, you deserve a mare in shining armor to sweep you off your hooves!” Lily cried after her. Roseluck snorted and ignored her, then pushed her way into the store. One ear flopped down as she saw that the same pony as yesterday was manning the counter. Did anypony else even work for him? “Oh, hi. Sorry about the other day, I…” Roseluck found herself at a loss. What could she say that wouldn’t come off as untoward? He grinned. “No, no, that’s fine. If you want, I could just chalk up the whole thing to me still being sleepy and half-dreaming the whole thing about a madmare coming in here, screaming ‘smoke bomb’ and—” Hoof collided with face. Fortunately for Davenport, it was Rose’s hoof with her own face. “W-well, you were the one who didn’t have any quills!” She recovered and glared. “Do you have any now?” He shuffled about, looking for an escape; his ears flopped down. “No.” “Oh.” Rose stood still, feeling rather foolish. “Well, what about those couches?” she said, more from a lack of anything else to say than genuine interest. His ears stood erect in moments. “Really? Nopony ever wants to see the couches! Oh, what a great day!” In a flash, he had his foreleg around her and had herded her into the main showroom. “This is our finest couch.” They stood before a deep blue sofa, adorned with pillows and large enough that it looked as though three could sleep comfortably on it. Roseluck felt tiny standing before the monstrous instrument of mass comfort. “It certainly is… imposing.” A remarkable transformation had come over him. Instead of the languid pony she had spoken with before, he now moved with purpose and vigor, dashing about and speaking in clear, quick tones. “Size matters, ma’am!” He trotted over to the couch and rested a hoof on an arm rest. “I’ve always believed that. The Nap Time Turbo Deluxe is all about size and quality. Made in Trottingham by the finest workponies who are experts in the craft, shipped all the way here to Ponyville. You’ll be the envy of every pony with this in your home! Why, I myself used it instead of a bed in my younger days!” He chuckled. “Had to throw it out after a while. Even the finest cleaners in the land can only do so much for some things.” Rose tisked. “Yes, I’m sure those stains held many memories of lucky stallions.” Davenport colored. “Er, well, that is, I mean…” Eschewing words, he coughed. “So, surely with so much high quality work in front of you, you cannot help but be moved.” “Er.” Once again, a queer sense of uneasiness crept over her, as though her mouth wanted to speak words that her brain didn’t know. No, that wasn’t it; it was as though her brain knew the words, but had blocked them out somehow. As though some essential, elemental part of herself yearned for release from a prison shaped like a pony. What those words were, Roseluck could not say; all she knew was that words she didn’t know the shape of were stuck in her throat, yearning to say things her subconscious didn’t want heard. “I know, I know, it’s breathtaking. I felt much the same way when it was first shipped in.” Once again, he moved to her side and put a foreleg around her. Funny how it felt so easy, so natural, that he should do so. She hardly even noticed its presence. “Yes, this couch and I have seen a lot of each other. I’ll be sad to see it go, but to a lovely mare like you? Well, it’ll have a good home.” She bit back the instinctual quip about him acting so straight. Were Lyra and Bon-Bon starting to rub off on her? “Well, you’re obviously excited about couches. I can’t really afford this one, though… sorry, I was more trying to be polite than anything.” A droop came over Davenport, from the tips of his ears to the arch of his back to his legs, including the one around Roseluck, which came back to rest on the ground. “Oh. I understand.” Laden with disappointment, he dragged himself back to the counter of the otherwise empty store. “I’ll let you know if any quills come in. Roseluck, right? I’ve walked by your flower stand.” She started, taking a few steps backward towards the door. It wasn’t unusual for anypony in Ponyville—particularly fellow merchants—to know each other, at least in passing. An odd, electric thrill came over her upon hearing Davenport say her name. A creeping, cold sensation slithered up her spine. Should I not be feeling this? she thought. Abruptly, she realized he had kept talking during her spaced-out moment on reflection. “And I guess it must be nice to have a business you can just close up whenever and wander about. Celestia knows I could probably get away with the same here with how few customers ever come in…” She waved a hoof in front of her face. “Oh, it’s not like that, really! Somepony else is watching the stand for me today. I needed a few days off.” A sympathetic look. “Ah, post-breeding season blues? You know, if you’re feeling tense, I know a good way to deal with that.” “Really?” She took a tentative step forward. “Yeah. We can do it in the back room. Just let me close up the shop.” More energetic now, he sprang to life and hurried to the door, putting out a closed sign and locking up. “Uh, you do know how straight you sound, right?” Rose cursed herself. She didn’t mean for that to come out, but this pony just acted so straight that it was a wonder he didn’t drape himself in a grayscale rainbow flag, for Celestia’s sake. He turned, midway through putting the bolt on the door. “Er, I suppose I do.” He scratched the back of his head with a hoof. “Failing of mine. Can’t tell you how many, er, interesting mares I’ve had hit on me as a result.” As they trotted to the back room, Rose remarked, “I can’t say that’s ever happened to me. Getting hit on by a stallion… I don’t even know that I’d know how to recognize it!” As they reached a door labeled “EMPLOYEES ONLY,” Roseluck could have sworn she heard him mutter, “Clearly.” “Sorry, what?” she asked, coming round to see his facial expression. “Just a little nervous. You see, I have this hobby… I like to do little massages. Great for relieving stress and the like. Would you… like one? They tell me I’m gentle, but firm.” He hesitated, as though unsure of his own sales pitch. “Why not? Isn’t as though I had anything else to do today, and I do feel tense.” She laid down on an extra-long sofa, sinking deep into its cushions. She felt the breath of the stallion above her; her tail flicked. “Okay, Miss Roseluck…” His hooves ground together. “Here goes.” The moment his hooves touched her back, a spark shot through her spine up to her head; the more and more the gentle, rubbing motions of his hooves worked their way up and down her body, the more she felt her muscles uncoiling. A moan escaped her throat of its own accord, and her left foreleg twitched involuntarily. The blessed motions stopped. “Are you alright, Ro—” “Shut up and keep rubbing!” she snapped, then relaxed again. “I’m sorry. I’ve just never met a pony this good at what you’re doing. It’s not even your cutie mark!” He resumed the motions that she never wanted to stop. “Well, just look at Ponyville’s own Rarity. Her cutie mark is of gems, yet she pursues fashion with all her heart.” Roseluck couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this at ease with anypony. “Still, at least gems are related. Yours wouldn’t seem to have much relation to thi-hi-hiss…” She trailed off into another soft moan of satisfaction as he hit a particularly knotted spot on her back. He chuckled and focused his massaging hooves on that spot, sending her body sinking ever further into the couch. “Well, we do have the couch right here, and I guess I could incorporate quills too… but if you were ticklish at all, I doubt that would accomplish anything.” He continued his work in silence for a few minutes, chuckling at Rose’s very audible reactions. Without warning, he stopped. “No more?” Rose asked, head spinning. “I wouldn’t mind more of that…” When only silence answered her, she rolled over and saw his pensive face inches from her own. “Roseluck… I really like you. If I’m not being too forward… are you seeing anypony?” Heat rose to her cheeks as a thousand answers raced through her mind: Yes, I am, she’s really wonderful; no, you filthy breeder; I’m a horsebian; I have a headache; No, and I don’t want to; I have a Diamond Dog fetish. The answer she gave, however, came from the heart instead: “No. I’m not seeing anypony.” She leaned up to kiss him, and as they both sank onto the couch, Rose’s moody heart was finally at peace. The next morning, as she opened up the flower stand, Rose couldn’t stop a constant alarm droning in her head. “What was I thinking?” she muttered as she set out flower arrangements. “It didn’t mean anything. It was those…” She shook her head. A few moments later, she said, “Those Celestia-damned magic hooves.” “Whose magic hooves?” Roseluck spun to see Lyra and Bon-Bon, strolling the streets of Ponyville without a care in the world, as usual. “Did you finally meet somepony, Rose?” Lyra asked, her eyes lighting up like streetlamps. She zoomed over. “Tell us all about it! What’s her name? Where did you two go? Was it Derpy? Or, no, I bet it was Cloudkicker! I hear all kinds of stupid stories from everpony about how big of a sl—” Bon-Bon jerked her enthusiastic lover to the side with one quick swipe of a foreleg, in a rare display of her earth pony strength. “Oh, leave her alone, Lyra! Poor thing’s only opened up for the day and you’re asking her all these personal questions.” From her place behind the stand, Roseluck saw a wide-eyed, pleading Lyra slowly raise her head from beneath the stand to just being beneath Bon-Bon’s head. Lyra’s pleading stares were infamous among all those who knew the couple; Bon-Bon usually got her way, but when Lyra chose to deploy the full force of her adorableness, nopony could say no. Such was the case this time, as Bon-Bon relented with a nod. Lyra bounced up to a normal standing position and resumed. “What did you two do? Was a cabbage involved? I heard about two ponies slinking away to Dangerside Hill last night on some secret mission of love was that you two?” Without giving poor Roseluck a moment to answer, Lyra’s eyes shone like the sun as she went on. “I totally knew it, it had to be you! You’ve always been all secretive about your love life and I’m so happy for you and when do we get to meet the lucky mare?” Roseluck put a hoof on her cart to steady herself from Lyra’s barrage. “Lyra, I’m not about to feed the local rumor mill. Yes, I did meet somepony, and we had a great time, but I don’t know if we’ll keep seeing each other. It’s… complicated.” “What’s complicated about it?” Bon-Bon asked. “You like her, she likes you, you two had fun, so why ruin a good thing?” Lyra, serious for once, put her forelegs on both sides of Bon-Bon’s face and turned it to face her own, flat-eared head. “Bon-Bon, if she doesn’t want to tell us, she doesn’t want to tell us. I really wish you’d respect other ponies’ privacy for once.” They stared at each other for a few moments, Lyra sober as a judge and Bon-Bon confused. Then, Lyra started laughing, and Bon-Bon tackled her onto some grass, where they began to horse around, playfully swearing revenge on each other as they rolled to and fro. “Those two…” Roseluck shook her head. “E-excuse me,” somepony else said. Rose turned to see Davenport, rubbing a foreleg against the other nervously. He had forsaken his ever-present vest for a pair of saddlebags, and Roseluck found herself running her eyes over his body in appreciation. He indicated the two wrestling mares. “Are those two all right?” “Oh, never mind them. Er, do you… need any flowers?” He waved a hoof. “No, I’m not hungry. I came to say—that is—I, uh.” He glanced around, as though suddenly aware of invisible eyes on every side of him. “This, um, friend of mine wanted you to have this.” He pulled a small note from his saddlebags with a shaky hoof, then set it before her with such delicacy that he might have been afraid of it exploding. “I’ll, er, good day, Roseluck.” He nodded in what might have passed for a jerky rendition of a polite nod among the very generous, then scuttled off. “Ugh, I hate window shoppers. Don’t you?” Bon-Bon said as she and Lyra, now coated in dust and dirt, returned to their place before the cart. “Yeah, what a weirdo,” Lyra said, quickly gulping down a daffodil when she thought Roseluck wasn’t looking. “Anyway, you should totally tell us all about that great mare you met right after we have some…” She paused, rearing up to her full height. After a moment spent staring at them both, she dropped down to Bon-Bon’s left ear and whispered in a voice one could have heard from across the street, “Juicy watermelons. With salt.” Bon-Bon went redder than the roses Rose was peddling. “Wehavetogobye,” she shouted mid-gallop as the two took off for home. Rose shook her head, then unfolded the note Davenport had passed with equal parts hope and dread. I had fun last night. Sorry I was still asleep when you left this morning. I’d like to see you again. The Gilded Lily, after the market closes? -D “It’s a date.” She sighed. “Celestia help me.” The date at the local café, The Gilded Lily, came and went without much incident. Both were awkward, feeling the imagined stares of judging eyes upon them. On the walk, home, though, Roseluck found herself relaxing more and more. Really, it’s not that different from having a stallion friend. Just with added… benefits. “And then, the whole couch exploded!” Davenport said, bugging his eyes out. Roseluck laughed, clearer and harder than she had in months. “How in Equestria did you ever get the batter off the walls?” He scowled. “Well, it took an awful lot of doing, I’ll tell you that much. I just want to know how she replaced all the stuffing with a combustible oven filled with pancake batter without anypony noticing.” “That’s Pinkie Pie for you.” They were now standing in front of his home: a small apartment right above his shop, with its own entrance from the street. “Davenport, I had a really good time tonight.” She scratched her forelegs together, and her head dipped a bit. “To be totally honest, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to show up. This is all new to me.” “Rose, the thing to do is to not think too much. We’re not hurting anypony, so why make ourselves miserable?” He put a hoof underneath her chin and gently titled it up to his own. Rose blushed. It would probably be too forward to invite myself in. “Kiss you goodnight?” “Well, if you want…” His eyes drooped to a half-lidded state. “But wouldn’t it be more fun if you kissed me good morning?” She smiled. “Yes. Yes it would.” They went up the stairs. After this had been going on for some weeks, the two heterosexuals found themselves in the middle of a fight at Rose’s home. “I just hate having to feel like I have to hide all the time!” Rose screeched, hurling an empty flowerpot against the wall in frustration. “It’s not fair.” Davenport took a step towards her. “Calm down. But what if we don’t hide any more? What if we go on a date?” Upon received a withering glare from Rose, he clarified, “A regular date. Like nor—most ponies have. Where we don’t pretend we’re talking business. Where we hold hooves. And kiss at the end of the night when other ponies are watching. Why should they care? I mean, we’re just another couple. That’s all we should be.” “You’re right.” Rose calmed herself. “You’re right! I mean, really, what are they going to say?” Quite a lot, as it turned out. The two walked down Stirrup Street, nuzzling each other and whispering the sweetest of nothings (literally—a few times at first, they only pretended to whisper things just to turn heads), just like a normal couple. To their growing apprehension, however, more and more ponies were taking harsh notice. In the yard of one Ponyville home, a group of fillies came to a sudden halt, their ball forgotten. “Mama? Mama?” Both mothers turned. “Why are they being all gross even though they’re a colt and a filly?” The first mother, a red unicorn, gasped upon seeing Davenport and Rose. “Go inside! Now!” she barked at her foals. As they shuffled inside, she directed a wrathful gaze at the couple. “Think of the fillies! Can’t you two breeders keep that behind closed doors?” “Celestia hates straights!” her partner chimed in. “Hets!” a shrill-voiced pegasus screeched from above. All around them, ponies poked their heads out of their houses to see what was going on, only to recoil in disgust at the sight of the flamboyantly straight couple flaunting their filthy heterosexuality in front of the entire town. A growing crowd of angry ponies followed them down the street, and Roseluck and Davenport’s easy walk turned into a trot, then an all-out run as more and more ponies turned the stroll into a pursuit, malice in their eyes. Roseluck and Davenport, for their parts, found themselves both wishing they had horns so they could just teleport away, or turn invisible, or anything to get them out of this ill-conceived plan. They rounded a corner, sprinting away from what felt like half the town, only to collide with one of Ponyville’s most famous residents: Twilight Sparkle, a few paces ahead of her suddenly alarmed Royal Guards. The three went tumbling in the middle of the street, rolling for several feet before they came to a stop, and the crowd surrounded them. Twilight, stumbling to her hooves and gathering up the papers she had been carrying, glanced around with alarm at the squinty eyes of the citizens. “What in Equestria is going on here?” “They’re a couple of filthy hets, is what, Princess!” Pipsqueak cried, shaking his tiny hoof at the cowering couple. Twilight gasped. “Pipsqueak! You shouldn’t use that kind of language.” He looked up at her. “But Prin—” “Please, if I’ve told you, I’ve told the whole town. This is my home. Just call me Twilight.” In a self-conscious action, she folded her wings as tight as she could. “Please, Twilight, we weren’t hurting anypony,” Davenport pleaded. “Shut up, you!” somepony growled. “Everypony, listen,” Twilight said, finding a nearby soapbox to climb atop. “There’s nothing wrong with being straight.” A collective gasp and subsequent murmur ran through the crowd. “But surely you aren’t a breeder, are you, Twilight?” a pony said. Twilight furrowed her brow in irritation for a moment. “Of course not! You all know that Princess Celestia and I are happily engaged!” A dreamy look came over her features for a moment before she regained her senses. “The point is that Equestria is bigger than this. Think back to a story we all know: the story of Hearth’s Warming Eve. Differences were what divided ponies back then. It nearly led to the end of everything because nopony could agree on anything and nopony could get along! Why? Because ponies were different, and they couldn’t look past those differences to see that those differences were what made ponies so good at working together. Where would Equestria be without the pegasus ponies?” Twilight gestured skyward to where Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were tonsil-deep in each other’s throats. Upon feeling eyes on them, they separated. Fluttershy flew behind Rainbow Dash, red as a beet. Rainbow Dash, for her part, just flexed and posed for imaginary cameras. Twilight sighed. “Okay, bad example. But think: without the pegasi to help control the weather, where would Equestria be? Imagine a place where the clouds moved on their own…” She paused. “And rained whenever and wherever they wanted!” The ponies all gasped. Except for Rainbow Dash, who just kept posing. “And without earth ponies, who would work the soil and give us all the delicious food we eat every day? And help build everything? Without unicorns, who would create all the magical devices that make our lives easier? And all the other things we get from getting along and cooperating every day? How we live in Equestria is only possible because we all work together, combining our different talents, abilities, and perspectives to make everypony’s lives better. Only by respecting the various things we all bring to the table can we make the best lives possible. For everypony. “Now that I’ve become a princess, I can accomplish a lot on my own. Alicorns have a lot of power.” She paused, looking over the crowd for a moment. “But! My days here in Ponyville taught me something very important: there’s only so much that one pony can do. With friends”—she smiled as a few of them gathered around her tiny impromptu stage—”you can depend on, a pony can accomplish so much more than she ever could alone. I believe the same is true with Equestria as a whole. It’s in our history, and it still holds up today. Without my friends, without the help of others, I could never have defeated Nightmare Moon, Discord, or Sombra, to say nothing of all the other adventures and challenges I’ve met in my time as Princess Celestia’s student. And I’m sure the same is going to be true in my time as a princess.” She stood still for a moment, smiling over the assembled ponies. “So… how do those heterosexuals fit into all this?” Caramel asked, his flattened ears and drawn mouth trembling with uncertainty. Big Mac gave him a deep, reassuring nuzzle. A few ponies around him murmured in assent. “We’re all different. No matter what it is, we all get a different perspective on things. We have to respect that. I believe that by learning from each other and sharing our experiences, we can all grow and become better. So it’s only by listening to each other that we can truly appreciate where each pony comes from. “Hate isn’t the answer. At the very least, talk to those you disagree with and try to understand where they’re coming from.” She stepped off the soapbox and walked over to Roseluck and Davenport, who were just getting to their hooves, though they eyed the mob around them warily. “There’s power in friendship. And in love. It’s a beautiful thing.” She smiled at them. “Just look… look at them. Can any of you honestly say that what they’re feeling is any different from your own relationships? We need the breeding season—we need heterosexuality, just like everything else in this world. Everything has its place in the grand scheme of harmony, no matter how unusual it might seem. Different pieces coming together to form an amazing, harmonious whole—Equestria. So we should respect their feelings.” Twilight nodded to Roseluck and Davenport. “Please. If you ever have any problems, just tell me.” “Th… thank you, Princess,” Roseluck said, overwhelmed by this much attention. The mob was backing off, too, though she doubted they’d all change their minds right away. Still, with a princess—I still can’t believe that really happened—personally behind her relationship, maybe things would work out after all. “Rose! Rose!” As Twilight departed, Lyra came barreling towards them with Bon-Bon in tow as the rest of the crowd dispersed. “I’m so happy for you!” Bon-Bon smacked her on the head. “Oh, please. You were shocked like everypony else, you heterophobe.” Lyra gave her a pleading look. “Can’t we just all get along, like Princess Twilight said?” Rose chuckled as she draped a possessive foreleg around her coltfriend. “Thanks, Lyra. In your own way, I know you mean it.” “Still, it was sort of shocking, at first. But hey! You’re happy. And being happy with what you’re doing is pretty much the greatest thing in the world.” She nuzzled Bon-Bon. “Looks like you two know plenty about that. Hi, by the way. Name’s Davenport.” He nodded to the two. “Oh, you’re the one who never has any quills!” Lyra blurted. “Rose, we should totally do a double date sometime!” As she rambled on and Davenport bonded with two of Roseluck’s best friends, she smiled. No matter where this new path led, it was sure to be more interesting than what had come before. I could use a little more interesting in my life. “Everypony?” she said, interrupting Lyra mid-conspiracy theory about Saddle Arabian influence on Equestrian politics. “Yeah?” Lyra asked, not irritated in the slightest. Rose leaned in close to Davenport’s ear. In a whisper so loud as to be utterly undeserving of the title, she said, “I think Davenport and I need to have some hot oatmeal bars. With frosting.” Daveport jumped. “We have to go!” As the two dashed back to Roseluck’s house, the laughter of her two friends followed her the whole way.