After reading the newest Daring Do story, Rainbow Dash feels confusing emotions towards her friends.
Rainbow Dash isn't afraid of anything, and she has better things to do than sit around worrying about some wussy emotions. But after reading the next Daring Do novel, she suddenly finds her feelings towards her friends changing- and not in ways she's comfortable with...
(May be subject to massive edits, depending on whether I can get over the obligatory irrational[?] hatred. Also, yes, I select the cover images pretty much at random.)
It isn't the fall that kills you. It's the landing. -Old proverb
Rain lingered on her wingtips when she landed, her hair crackling with static from yet another storm cloud. The earth welcomed her, tingled under her hooves, and she realised (as she did every time she descended after a tough day of clearing thunderheads) that Fluttershy had a point- clouds were great, but there was really nothing like solid ground. Especially for sleeping on. But as much as her muscles ached, she had a place to be, and Rainbow Dash didn't ever leave her friends hanging. She marshalled on, treading lightly on over-sensitive hooves until all the stubborn electricity had left her, to Sugar Cube Corner.
"Hey, Pinkie. Sorry I'm late. Did you wait long?" she called as she walked in, although she already knew the answer. Three hours had escaped from her, just flown away whilst she dealt with the lingering weather. Fast as she was, she knew she could never catch up with time- the thought niggled at her in her dreams.
Pinkie sprang over the counter with no hesitations and bounced towards her, a glowing ring of zap apple jam around her lips. With Pinkie always came the smells of cupcakes, muffins, freshly baked bread. Dash smelt it, and tried to remember if she'd eaten recently. The adrenaline in her system was messing up her appetite.
"Nope! I was busy working these super-secret-special zap apple jam danishes that Mr Cake wants to start selling! They're all tingly and delicious and warm but they give you electric shocks when you eat them so he says we can't quite sell them yet because some ponies might be at risk of heart-attack but I think they're fantastic!" Pinkie babbled, and produced (from nowhere, which Rainbow Dash had long since ceased to question) a blackened zap apple danish. Rainbow Dash pushed it away.
"Sorry, Pinks. I've got enough electricity in my system for one day. Besides, zap apple jam always reminds me of regular lightning," she said, wandering over to the counter and helping herself to a cookie instead. She noticed that Mr Cake had already listed it for her on the tab sheet he kept by the till. Smart guy.
"You've tasted lightning?" Pinkie asked, her ears pricking up. Her smile, ever present, widened. Dash didn't like the looks of it. At all. It looked like the kind of smile that signalled a Pinkie Plan, and a Pinkie Plan usually signalled sleepless nights and massive debt over property damage. "What does it taste like, huh? Tell me tell me tell meeee!"
"Ugh, quiet down, Pinks. It tastes like Zap Apples, only a bit more...metallic, I guess. It's not a nice taste," Dash told her, her hoof at her mouth in thought. It was a very difficult taste to describe. Disgusting, but almost...addictive. "But yeah, I've tasted it. Got hit by it a couple times when I was a filly, too."
"That explains a lot," Mr Cake laughed, in a not unkind, almost fatherly way, coming out of the kitchen with the last batch of biscuits for the day. "Hello, Rainbow Dash. Pinkie's been waiting for you. Take her off my hooves, please- I made a joke about zap apple danishes, and now she keeps setting fire to the oven. Zap apple jam really doesn't like to be cooked twice! Now I have to get rid of all the pastries that didn't quite escape the fire."
"We can rebake them! We have the technology!" Pinkie shouted. "Anyway, it's really late to be pranking people now. I mean, we could dress Dashie up as a bat, and then have her swoop around and be all like 'Wooooooo! I'm Count Dracumare! I vill empty your apple carts!', but that only works once and we did it last time."
Mr Cake fixed Rainbow Dash with a puzzled look. She shrugged. Pinkie was like magic- you could play with her, you could have fun with her, but you couldn't explain her (no matter how much Twilight begged to differ).
"I think she's right, though. It took way too long to clear up those stormclouds. Usually I'd bust them all up in fifteen seconds, max, but it's been like this for the last week or so, and I'm getting a little tire-" Dash said, before catching herself. "Uh...I mean, it's starting to get boring, you know? Dodging lightning's nothing for Equestria's best weather pony, so when you do it day in, day out, it just bores me to sleep!"
"That would also explain a lot. Applejack tells me you you keep turning up in their trees when the clouds are supposed to be lifting," Mr Cake remarked dryly. He didn't appear to have bought it. Didn't matter. Pinkie had, and that was what counted.
"Plus, I have something to do before I get some shuteye. Twilight's got the newest Daring Do book in, and I gotta borrow it before somepony else does. Sorry, Pinkie. I know I said we were gonna get tons of pranking done today," she apologised, rubbing the back of her head with her hoof.
"No problem! We'll just have to do twice the pranking next week! I'll bring itching powder and streamers and the Pinkiecopter and- wait!" Pinkie said, screeching to a halt mid-bounce. "Did you say you were going to visit Twilight? Let me come too! I need to see if she's got anything on zap apple fritters."
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. The chances of it were slim to none, although to be fair it was hard to predict what Twilight would be experimenting on yet. She didn't see the harm in it, though. She was tired, and maybe Pinkie could be a little bit of a headache at times, but she'd promised to play pranks with her today and hadn't delivered, so it was only fair. She nodded once, and bade her farewells to Mr Cake.
After they left, he breathed a huge sigh of relief, and made a note to get his fire extinguisher re-charged. Again. At least it hadn't been full of silly string this time.
As they walked to the library, they talked- not about anything of real significance, just idle, relaxed chatter than spiralled off into strange and wonderful tangents. It was the kind of talk that, come tomorrow or next week, neither of them would remember. The kind of talk that only happened between two good friends.
Rainbow Dash felt her thoughts straying before long, relaxed by the endless stream of chatter. She felt her muscles, wound so tight after the day's exertions, begin to fall slack. Fatigue began to steal upon her, a soft, leaden weight in her bones. She thought about dreams that she'd had recently but couldn't fully remember, dreams of boulders and bravery and then air cracking angrily behind her like a whip as she flew towards something she never reached. She thought of thunderheads and cumulostratus, of flying tricks, pranks and baked goods.
She was broken from her thoughts by Pinkie giggling and waving a hoof in front of her face. They'd almost gone straight past the library. After telling Pinkie that she knew exactly where she was going, ("Sure, sure, Dashie, I believe you!"), they turned around and went in.
"Twilight! Oh, Twi-light!" Pinkie sang as she stepped in the door. Her voice seemed muffled, in that place of silent books and study.
There was shuffling in the back room, and the unmistakable sound of a small chemical explosion, followed by bouts of muffled cursing. Before long, Twilight appeared, her face still covered in an ominous-looking green soot.
"I believe you've got something for me," Rainbow Dash said with a smirk. "By the way, you might wanna show Rarity your new makeup. It really improves your complexion."
"Ha-hack!-ha, very funny. You're lucky you caught me before I added the Ingredient X. If I'd dropped that in, I'd have probably blown a hole through my house," Twilight coughed. She was interrupted by Pinkie leaning across and rubbing her hoof across Twilight's face. When it came away green, she licked the powder, shuddered, and decided it wasn't suitable for baking with. Twilight shrugged and continued. "I take it you're here for the Daring Do book?"
Dash grinned. "It's like you read my mind, Twi."
"Nope, just your borrowing list," Twilight sighed. Her horn flickered red, and the book floated down from the top floor- with Spike still dangling from it.
"Hey! I'm only at Chapter Five!" he whined. The book gave a little wobble, and he fell unceremoniously to the ground. He sighed. This sort've thing happened way, way too often.
"Sorry, little guy. I'll be taking that. Oh, also, Twi? Pinkie says she's looking for a book, too," Dash said, before snatching the book from mid-air and checking the title- Daring Do and The Priestess Of Ahuitzotl. Not bad, she thought. She opened it and idly leafed through the first few pages, taking in fragments of sentences, broken mental images that would later become woven into a fantastic adventure. There were never storms in Daring Do's world, she thought. There were boulders and vines and jungles and evil, but at least there weren't weather duties to attend to. Behind her, Pinkie kept up a stream of excited talk about her zap apple danishes and forbidden cookbooks (and for some reason the word 'frappucino' kept coming up). Dash ignored them. It looked like she was going to have a difficult choice to when she got home.
"Dashie? Hellooo? Rainbow Dash? You all done?" Pinkie asked, popping up much to close to her face. She still had zap apple jam on her lips. It was times like this that Dash secretly wished Twilight could magic up a sense of personal space and implant Pinkie with it.
"Uh, yeah. I think I'm ready to go. We leavin', Pinks?"
"You're welcome for the book, by the way," Twilight quipped, and rolled her eyes. "Be careful out there. It's getting awfully dark out, lately."
"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, mom. C'mon, Pinkie. I'll walk with you back to Sugar Cube Corner. Did you get the book you wanted?" Dash asked.
"Nope, but Twilight said she'd ask Princess Celestia how they had parties one thousand years ago for me, oh, and, also, I got this book on practical jokes by some wizard guy with a funny poofy beard and his picture on the front cover, and..."
When Dash got home, she closed her door (more quietly than usual; the headache she'd had coming on had hit), and trotted to her room without even bothering to eat the apple pie AJ had given her the other day. She flopped down on the bed, book still between her teeth, and stretched out as far as she could. When her joints felt like they were about to pop, she stopped, and let herself fall loose. She was more than tired, she realised. She was exhausted. If there were more storms tomorrow, she was going to have her work cut out for her.
But...Daring Do. It just felt wrong, to have the book and to not be reading it- to have a whole adventure in her hooves, and to refuse it in favour of sleep. Somewhere in the pages, there was a brave pony trapped in time, who would remain there until the page turned and she could move on in her great adventures.
Caring about fictional characters? You're going soft, Dash, she thought. But it didn't really make a difference. What she needed was sleep, but what she wanted was to read the book. Rainbow Dash wasn't known for not being impulsive. Besides, she thought, she didn't have to read the whole thing in one sitting. She'd get to the second chapter and call it a night. Maybe the third. With that in mind, she opened the book, and let a smile form on her face as she began to read.
As the sun rose, Rainbow Dash flipped the last page over, and closed the book with a snap. Head aching, eyes shot with blood, she murmured to herself, "Wh...What in Equestria did I just read?"
A/N: Urgh. I really don't like this. I may rewrite it when I'm in a better state of mind.
If the truth had to be told, there were quite a few ponies in Ponyville who were under the impression that Rainbow Dash was an idiot. Of those ponies, a not inconsiderable number were quite vocal about it, tossing about such terms as 'trouble-maker', 'jock' and 'insufferable winged midge that keeps breaking my windows with her stupid crashes'. Nopony ever bothered to correct their opinions. Because, sooner or later, they would find out first-hoof just how ingenious Dash could be.
For Rainbow Dash's talents were not in the areas of books, or equations, or social niceties. She excelled at what Twilight termed 'lateral thinking' and which Applejack termed 'downright rotten-sneakiness.' She could find a use for anything when setting up a prank, no matter how dubious, and had such an innate knack for predicting the behaviour of other ponies that she could quite easily set up five or six pranks to go off on one pony within twenty seconds of each other. She was surprisingly talented, and, more than once, Twilight had remarked that it was a waste that she didn't use that brain for anything more productive than dumping buckets of water on the heads of the unsuspecting townsponies. The average Ponyvillian, therefore, learned early on that it was not an uncommon thing to see Dash using things in ways delightfully unconnected with their original purpose.
So, when Applejack saw a sleeping pegasus being ferried around Sweet Apple Acres on the back of Tank the tortoise, she was not as surprised as perhaps she ought to be. Instead, she simply rolled her eyes, and, with a sharp kick, relieved the long suffering testudine of his burden.
Rainbow Dash's first sensations were pain, surprise, and the taste of mud. She'd become quite a connoisseur of mud. She could generally tell where she'd crashed just from the taste. It was a talent nopony else had, or even needed, and that made her feel pretty special.
"What'd you do that for, AJ?" she groused, although honestly it wasn't the worst awakening she could have asked for. Usually, her day began with Applejack bucking the tree she was sleeping in, which had all the associated hazards of being kicked off a tortoise but with ten feet in which to gather speed before hitting the ground.
Applejack narrowed her eyes. "Because y'all are gonna break the back o' that poor tortoise, and if Fluttershy were to see ya, ah don't think all the guards in Canterlot could save yer feathered hide."
"He's a turtle, not a tortoise," Dash replied sourly. "Besides, he's awesome. He can take the strain, and this way I get some sleep instead of having to fly everywhere."
Tank did not seem to particularly care whether he was a turtle or a tortoise, much as he didn't seem to know he was being argued over. All Tank knew was that a few almost-ripe apples had fallen on the ground, and they were...well, 'ripe for the plucking' would be an idiotic metaphor when talking about unripe apples, even for a turtle of somewhat limited brain, but something along those lines. He just thanked his lucky stars that, so far as anypony knew, turtles had no concept of petty theft.
"So, sugarcube, ya mind tellin' me why y'all took hours riding around on your turtle so you could get some sleep, instead of, say, flying here in five minutes and then napping in my trees like usual?" Applejack asked, shifting her weight slightly so the panniers didn't leave welts. Her mane, tied as usual, swung like a hypnotist's pendulum as she moved.
"Fluttershy said he's a tortoise, not a turtle. Anyways, I really wasn't in the mood to fly this morning. I didn't get any sleep. I'd probably have hit a mountain, or a tree, or Pinkie Pie. So it was either ride the turtle, or die horribly. You askin' me to die horribly, AJ?" Dash asked, eyebrows raised.
"No, but sometimes ah think it wouldn't be a problem if you spent another week in hospital coolin' yer jets," Applejack said with a shrug, dripping pure, concentrated sarcasm when she spoke. "Anywho, why didn't ya get any sleep? Ain't like you to miss an opportunity to hit the hay."
Dash thought before she answered. That, by Applejack's reckoning, was a bad sign. If Rainbow Dash actually stopped and thought, there was a chance she'd get ideas, and ideas in the hooves of a pony like Rainbow Dash could be very dangerous indeed.
"I was up reading the new Daring Do book," Dash finally admitted, a little pensively. Applejack breathed a sigh of relief. The worst that could happen after a Daring Do episode was some impromptu vine swinging practice and maybe some light theft. Insofar as there was no danger of explosion, it was by far one of the most preferable outcomes.
"Aw, shucks. Shoulda known you'd stay up all night readin' yer books. Ah prefer Apple Orchards Monthly, m'self," AJ chuckled.
"Oh, that weirdo apple magazine you keep in the outhouse? Suit yourself. I mean, they're pretty pictures, but they're just apples," Rainbow Dash said absently. Applejack narrowed her eyes once more, and decided she'd better have a word with her brother. She didn't know what her magazines were doing in the outhouse, and for what purpose, but it was either an affront to apples or an affront to literature, neither of which she intended to shoulder unless he paid for his own magazines and kept them at least 500 yards from hers at all times.
"Anyway, I was planning to read just a little bit and then finish it today after weather duty, but it was...weird. Like, weird weird. So I had to keep reading, to find out why, and then suddenly it was morning," Dash carried on, oblivious to Applejack's turmoil.
"Weird in what way, sugarcube?" AJ asked, beginning to walk. She figured she may as well listen to whatever tale Dash was telling her and get some farming done at the same time. Sure enough, the pegasus trotted along in her wake.
"Well, I dunno. It started off like, just a regular, awesome Daring Do story, and she infiltrates the great temple of Ahuitzotl, who's, like, her archnemisis, but she sealed him away in book four, so he's not there anymore, but she meets this really weird, pretty pony who says she's the priestess of the temple, and they start acting really weird around each other. Anyway, at about chapter five, Daring Do finds the treasure she was looking for, but the priestess says it's important to her, so she puts it back," Dash explained, emphasising the last words as though it was a life-shattering revelation.
"A pony that gives back stuff if her friends ask her to? Well, ain't that a mystery. Which reminds me, you done with my exercise bands yet, sugarcube?" AJ asked dryly, checking the rows of corn with a careful eye. With all the storms they'd had recently, the poor vegetables were almost drowning in their furrows.
"Yeah, yeah. I told you last time that I'd bring them the next time I saw you. Anyway, back to important stuff. They start talking, and Daring Do finds out that the other pony is only Ahuitzotl's priestess because she was forced to be, so they end up talking about junk for an entire night, and then in chapter seven-" Dash carried on, before grinding to a halt. Chapter seven. Hoo, chapter seven.
"What happened, sugarcube?" AJ asked, smiling softly. She enjoyed this fashion of talk, truth be told. Dash could be obnoxious, but when she was passionate about something, she made it sound like the best thing in Equestria. Almost made her want to get the darn books out of the library herself.
"They...well, it's...u-um...They kiss, okay?!" the pegasus blurted out, becoming just that bit more multicoloured as a blush leapt to her cheeks.
Applejack rolled her eyes. Was that what all the ruckus was about? "Aw, sugarcube. That'd be what Twi calls a romantic subplot. Now, I ain't gonna claim to be the most knowledgeable about books- ah still maintain that a plot's what you put seeds in- but I hear they appear in most books."
"But that's it, AJ! This isn't most books! This is Daring Do, the coolest, most awesome explorer ever! If even she's not immune, what am I gonna do?" Dash whined, throwing her hooves in the air for dramatic emphasis.
Applejack lifted her hat from her eyes and fixed her friend with a very piercing 'are you serious?' kind of look, which she'd probably learned from Twilight. When you hung around with the same group of buddies a lot, you tended to 'share' expressions. The similarities between Rarity and Fluttershy's faces when scared defied all belief.
"You're not getting it, AJ. I can't stand all the kissy-kissy, roses and serenades stuff. Romance is for dweebs. But Daring Do did it, and she's awesome. What am I meant to think? You can't awesome and a dweeb. It doesn't work like that."
"Well, ah think maybe y'all might wanna revise yer position. Either Daring Do wasn't the pony y'all imagined her to be, or romance isn't all so bad as ya think. M'self, ah got no opinion on the matter. Y'all wanna talk about romance, ah suggest you go and visit Rarity," AJ sighed. "By the way...where's that tortoise of yours, anyway?"
"Turtle," Dash corrected her irritably. "But stop trying to change the subject. This is serious business, AJ!"
"Everything y'all do is serious business in some way or another," AJ deadpanned. "But I'd sure hate to be in your horseshoes if Fluttershy finds out you lost your turtle."
Rainbow Dash meditated on this, and decided it had wisdom, so much so that she didn't even bother to tell Applejack that Tank was a tortoise. If she lost Tank and Fluttershy found out, there would be crying, countrywide searches, and the distinct possibility of 'Shy cracking open that weird mind control stare she did so well. Of all possible ways to ruin your day, that was one of the very worst, second only to finding out that the Wonderbolts were in town and you didn't see them, which itself was only second to dying in a fire.
Luckily, finding Tank was not hard, since he had helpfully littered the ground around him with the half-eaten cores of fallen apples, and was in the middle of ramming the nearest tree to procure more. Applejack's expression was, perhaps, the best summation of the phrase 'not amused'.
"Ah was plannin' to gather them apples and compost them fer next year's harvest," she said pointedly.
"Oops," Dash said, as if talking to the trees rather than Applejack. The farm pony's frown deepened, and Rainbow Dash realised that she had probably chosen poorly. "W-well, I ought to get out of your hair, let you hug your apple trees or whatever weird mumbo jumbo you apple farmers do."
"Rather 'n maybe opening yer wallet and payin' fer those apples your pet stole?" AJ deadpanned.
"Not like I wouldn't, but, uh, I left my purse in my other dress. Talking of dresses, you think I should go and talk to Rarity about my Daring Do problem? I think I should. Later!" Dash babbled, before picking up Tank and making for the skies, leaving her usual rainbow coloured contrail as she went.
"Not like y'all wear dresses anyhow," AJ snarked to nopony in particular, but it was a moot point. She'd get her money back in terms of the random weather favours Dash sometimes did for her friends when she thought they weren't looking, which were common enough knowledge that Twilight had taken to predicting them, with variable success.
Still, she thought as she resumed her inspection of the orchards, she hadn't expected Rainbow Dash, of all ponies, to get that worked up over a bunch of paper and ink. Insofar as she knew, Rarity was still the town's biggest drama queen. But sometimes she thought the unicorn had some competition.
Rainbow Dash did not reach Rarity's Boutique that day, or the next day, either. Why? Because of a run-in with her oldest nemesis- windows. Ponykind had invented many things over the years, and windows were usually considered among the best of them. Elegantly simple, all you needed was a pane of glass with perhaps a hinge or two, and your home became warmer, harder for wasps to invade, and did not have an unsightly hole in the wall.
Ponykind had invented many things, but Rainbow Dash had invented speed. And she thought windows were a ridiculous idea.
She didn't really mind them, per se, at least most of the time. She tended to mind them when her cheek was crushed up against them after a crash (doubly so, since it pretty much meant that all her dental work in the last year was null and void as her teeth were nearly shaken from their sockets), but, other than that, they were like alligator: fine, until you actually had to deal with one. And the only alligator she was prepared to deal with belonged to Pinkie Pie and shared her loathing of the dentist.
When her ire was inflamed, however, she detested windows almost as badly as she detested clear glass patio doors, which were like windows but even further mired in insidiousness. The only difference was that you walked into patio doors at a speed of, say, three miles an hour. Which, whilst making you look foolish, ran a very small risk of breaking your nose. Whereas windows? Opened. Outwards. In town. At exactly the wrong place and exactly the wrong time.
“Pinkie Pie,” Dash said with strained cheerfulness, “Have I ever told you that I hate windows?”
“Oh, silly Dashie. You spent the last five minutes telling me you hate windows, and the five minutes before that saying you hated Gummy for chewing on your mane,” Pinkie Pie grinned, before depositing a bowl of vegetable soup haphazardly near the bed, and watching as the bowl rattled to a standstill.
“Why did you open your window, anyway?” Rainbow Dash asked archly.
“My pinkie sense said you'd be stopping by, so I decided to open the window for you. Turns out you were early!”
“Horse apples,” Rainbow Dash said sulkily, and made vague motions towards the soup. She couldn't move, as she had been all but mummified; Pinkie Pie was an enthusiastic first-aider. Somewhere behind her, Gummy was indeed trying to eat her mane, making perhaps the sloppiest slurping sounds ever known to pony or beast. Tank, unharmed by the crash due to his shell being considerably more durable than Rainbow Dash's face, just watched, occasionally making eyes at the soup.
The situation was not helped by the fact that, well, Pinkie's room still creeped her out. Majorly. She remembered very distinctly a conversation between a pony, a pile of rocks and a sack of flour, conducted in those very walls, and the pony had been near-insane at the time, in a heartbreaking way. Pinkie without her ridiculous curly mane and her stupid prancing hop and her crazy habit of bursting into song over the smallest little things was not Pinkie at all, in her opinion. Not, of course, that Dash had been scared to be privy to her friend's breakdown. They were only emotions, after all. Feelings didn't breath fire or smoosh you between their claws or look at you with a thousand disappointed faces when you bailed on your latest trick. Feelings were foal's play.
"Say, Dashie. How was your book?" Pinkie asked, strangely topically. What she'd been talking about five minutes before, Rainbow Dash had no idea. She tuned a great deal of Pinkie's less meaningful babble out. It was the only way to remain sane.
"Weird," she pouted, and felt her nose ache when she did. "There was kissing and junk."
Pinkie Pie said nothing. Which, her being Pinkie Pie, was the scariest thing she could have said. Instead, she began to shake. Violently. The soup sloshed down the sides of the bowl, stirred up by the vibrations. Pinkie's hooves rapped out a frenzied SOS as they jittered on the wood floor.
“Pinkie? Please tell me this is Pinkie Sense, and you haven't decided to liven up my day by having a seizure?” Rainbow Dash moaned.
Pinkie Pie opened her mouth and tried to talk, but even her tongue was shaking. She tried to nod, but it was hard to discern through the 6.9 Richter Pinkie Sense attack. After five full minutes of shaking, Pinkie finally stopped.
“A doozy?” Rainbow Dash asked, quickly going through a mental checklist of things that could be going wrong. She came up with nothing. Nothing that was her fault, anyway.
“The dooziest,” Pinkie replied cheerfully, and drank the rest of Dash's soup. “Needs more pumpkin.”
The Carousel Boutique was a trendy establishment, with a considerate owner and many interesting wares; therefore, it was frequented by many a pony, even from places as far off as Manehattan and Canterlot. However, if it had a flaw, which of course it did in the owner's mind, it was that so very few of those ponies happened to be Applejack.
Rarity adored Applejack's visits, she really did, because they were just such an interesting stew of social conventions. Her farming friend was just so wonderfully ambivalent about everything, and it was a pleasure to speculate on the things she did. She secretly thought that perhaps AJ knew this, and was simply indulging her, but that was simply another layer of intrigue on top of a very delicious social cake.
Their visits always went the same way, at first. The top priority was to shoo away Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, if they were around, a task which usually consisted of pointing one filly at the other, then nonchalantly mentioning some small hobby they hadn't yet tried. Things would be shouted, Scootaloo would be called, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders would visit havoc upon the streets of Ponyville, safely away from the Boutique. Rarity did not know exactly how many bits worth of property damage she had indirectly caused due to this strategy, but it seemed less than a thousand.
The second step of Operation Applejack was tea. In many ways, this was Rarity's favourite part, because it was Applejack's least favourite part. Applejack wasn't a fan of tea in the first place, but absolutely despised the Lady Hay blend Rarity loved so much. Yet, despite Rarity asking her (every time, without fail, before a single sip had been taken) if she would prefer coffee, Applejack never once took her up on it. That was exactly the kind of thing Rarity adored. Was the reaction one of defiance, a signal that she was Applejack and she could drink tea with the best of them? Or perhaps a hint of compromise, bowing to the host's wishes? Perhaps a subtle blend of all of the above, with a little guilty pleasure thrown in to the mix? It was a thrill, and many times Rarity's own cup went cold before she had tired of her observations.
Step three was the most volatile: small talk. Upon Applejack's first visit, Rarity had found herself completely taken aback by AJ's skill in the matter. The brief time spent in Manehattan as a filly had nevertheless taught the farmer how to talk, at considerable length, about absolutely nothing- a skill very few ponies outside the higher echelons possessed. The question of religion she left unanswered, and in politics she was perfectly neutral. Talk about controversial music went unlistened to, and diatribes about art went unobserved. No matter what topic Rarity breached, the farmer never put a single hoof wrong, and sat across from her wearing the small, polite rictus of the social elite, the little stifled grin that could say so many things at once.
In Rarity's experience, Applejack's variant could mean one of two things: 'I have all the skills of a high-society mare. The only reason I behave the way I do is because it makes me happy', and, more interestingly, 'This is a side of myself that existed, once; you are the pony I choose to show it to.' Rarity could almost taste the potential scandal of it all.
After roughly thirty minutes of rapier-point social manoeuvring, Applejack would clear her throat, a signal that she was now done indulging her friend and that it was time to get down to business. Today's conversation had reached just such a point.
"So, Rare. Has Rainbow Dash paid y'all a visit in recent memory?" AJ asked, her business frown well and truly on.
"Why, no, now that you mention it. Most rude of her, actually. I recently saw a dress and corset combination that would suit her down to the ground, darling, and you know I just had to throw my own twist on it when I got home-"
"-and you wonder why she doesn't visit. Ah reckon it's hard enough to breathe at high altitudes without one o' yer fancy rib-breaking devices," AJ deadpanned. "Anywho, I spoke to her yesterday, and she was goin' to fly over here to get some advice from ya. Guess she must've got distracted."
Rarity tittered behind one hoof. "Oh, so that's why she was flying so low in town! The poor dear hit a window. Did quite a bit of damage to that nose of hers, I'm told."
"Well, ah can thank mah lucky stars fer double glazing, then. Y'see, I got to thinking, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to send her to you fer advice," Applejack said as gently as she knew how, which was not especially gently at all.
"Oh! I never! Are you implying that my advice would be unhelpful?" Rarity asked, traces of a wail creeping into her voice. A wail, in Rarity's hooves, quickly became a whine, which quickly led to either the dropping of the argument or the evacuation of the building.
"Now, now, Rare, I'm sure yer advice is plenty helpful, fer a certain definition of 'help'. But, hear me out. Now, I told her to go to you because her problem was all about the romance, and ah reckon y'all know plenty about that," AJ explained, tipping her hat a little further forward over her eyes. Rarity let out a squeal that quickly morphed into a veritable torrent of words.
"Rainbow Dash needs romantic advice? Oh my, I never thought I'd see the day! Oh, I'll give her such a makeover that any pony worth two bucks would go gaga for her, you see if I don't, darling, and a few etiquette classes, too, nothing special, just how to perhaps eat a meal without half of it ending up on the other side of the restaurant. She'll be the most eligible bachelorette in Ponyville, mark me!" Rarity babbled. Applejack halted the monologue by tapping her hoof on the table in true manehattan style. Rarity caught her tongue and held it, a little positive reinforcement for AJ's new sense of manners.
"Now, y'see, this is what ah was afraid of. Yer fallin' over yerself to push her into all this romance nonsense. Honestly, Rare, I don't think that's such a good idea."
Rarity looked at Applejack. Mainly at her eyes. She was trying to ascertain if her farmer friend had gone mad at some time in the past five minutes. Or been replaced with some sort of evil, identical twin.
"How could encouraging our friend to embrace amour ever be a bad thing, darling?" she asked pointedly.
"'Cause she's not really interested in romance, Rare. She was just reading one of them Daring Do books, and got a little confused by some kissin' scene. It ain't like she's looking to get married. She's just tryin' to figure out if it's cool or not," Applejack sighed. She felt like she hadn't explained it very well at all.
"Oh, how cynical! What if she's secretly lovelorn for some lucky suitor, her passions awakened by new and exciting experiences? What if she's languishing on a cloud this minute, hardly able to move for the heartache?" Rarity said theatrically, affecting a small swoon.
"Rare, have you actually met Dash? She's probably more worried about what's for dinner than some romantic getaway. Anyhow, say she did suddenly get turned on to the idea of romance, which she shouldn't unless you start spouting nonsense into her ear. Who exactly do ya think her most likely crushes would be?"
Rarity took a moment to think, magnanimously deigning to ignore the crack about her spouting nonsense. She sipped her tea as she did so, and was annoyed to find it quite cold. "Well, darling, the ponies she's closest to at the moment would be Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and yoursel- oh."
"Yeah," Applejack snorted. "Oh. Ah can't speak for Pinkie and 'Shy, but I'd like to get some work done this year, and I don't think I'll manage it if Dash's hanging around my apple trees all day. Besides, y'ever consider that it might not be good for her? She's an athlete, Rare, trying to get into the Wonderbolts. She won't stand a chance if she's all distracted by silly crushes. But, say she does get in, one day. They're a travelling group. Y'all think Fluttershy'd bear to leave her cottage an' her animal friends to pack up and follow her when she has to move from town to town? Y'all think Pinkie Pie'd skip out on the Cakes after they gave her a home and a job? Y'all think I'd ever quit the family farm to traipse around Equestria after her?"
Rarity was quiet. As much as she hated to admit it, Applejack had, in her over-practical way, got a point. A rather good point. An argument-winning point, in fact. One that didn't have any obvious counter. She would have to settle the debate by other means, then. A little lateral persuasion. It always worked with the Canterlot crowd.
"I say, darling. You've given this a suspicious amount of thought," Rarity said finally, and watched all the colour drain away from Applejack's face, only to be replaced with something between crimson and puce.
"Y'all keep yer smart-aleck observations to y'self! Ah'm just thinking of the best thing for m'friends, unlike somepony I know," the farmer blustered, flicking her tail so hard it almost cracked like a whip. "Now, you listen here, Rare. From what I figure, chances of that mare listenin' to yer advice are slim to none, but-"
"But what, Applejack?" Rarity interrupted, with false sweetness.
"-but just in case, I want ya to promise me you're not gonna try and sell her the moon with this romance thing. She's got it pretty good where she is, and she don't need to be riskin' it all on the hope of finding something better."
"That's just sour apples, darling, and you know it," Rarity sniffed. "I shan't rob our dear friend Rainbow Dash of the chance to feel the most noble of emotions by underselling it. Love, darling, is the gift that keeps on giving."
"Like your cookin', I guess. No one wants to get stuck holdin' it. Y'all do what you want, Rare. As fer me, next time ah see Dash I'll tell her straight-up how ridiculous this whole thing is," Applejack snorted, standing to leave. Her eyes were narrowed, and her tail still flicked from left to right.
"Well, as long as you're being foalish, your advice is like your dress sense: unambitious, boring, and with no flair in the execution," Rarity said primly, before remembering her manners. "I hope to see you again soon, Applejack."
The farm pony snorted, and opened the front door. "Yeah, well, hope harder. Thanks for the tea," she added, cursing her own manners, and shut the door firmly behind her.
After Applejack's departure, Rarity cleared away the cutlery, and retreated to her inspiration room. There, she sat down, and she began to think. To do so, her friends would doubtlessly have remarked, was unlike her. Long hours of pondering did not suggest the effortless grace and confidence that she exuded, but they nonetheless produced a great deal of it. That was the crux of it all, the caveat in the terms: effort was the base of all beauty. Here, she had been presented with a situation that might be beautiful...
The problem was that, her lack (or distaste) of refinement aside, Applejack was not a stupid pony, particularly when it came to supporting her friends. Everything the farm pony had said was, to a point, true, if you excused the crack about her cooking. Of all that, the most important points were, firstly, that Rainbow Dash probably wasn't all that hooked on romance, just confused by it, and secondly, that she probably wouldn't listen to any advice Rarity had to give on the matter, especially if it carried even a hint of so-called dweebishness.
So, giving her pegasus friend advice she wouldn't like on a subject she probably wasn't especially interested in was not the way to go. Rarity liked this conclusion. She wasn't changing her plans because Applejack disapproved, she told herself; it was because they simply wouldn't work. Yes, that was it.
However, the Daring Do book may well have created a chink in the armour, an opportunity for growth. It would be a waste to throw it away so easily. If events would just fall in such a way that Dash herself decided to take an interest in matters of the heart...
Rarity, having found her conclusion, sighed. If events were to fall the way in which you wished them to, they usually required a helping hoof. Whilst she was sure she was quite capable of lending one, the whole idea of a concerned matchmaker secretly opening up a world of romance for an unwitting friend was, on the whole, cliché, passé, and smacked not a little of foul play; it was an idea dredged from the tattered pages of a two-bit romance novel.
The thing to remember, she told herself as she reached for her diary and began to scheme, was that two-bit romance novels almost always had a happy ending.
Elsewhere, Rainbow Dash had actually forgotten about the whole Daring Do thing. This was mainly because she was in trouble, which was much like saying she was solid: it was a fact, and short of some very dodgy spells from Twilight Sparkle, it would pretty much always be true.
"Oh, Rainbow Dash, I can't- I'm sorry, but you...I really-" Fluttershy stuttered, managing to seem incredibly agitated whilst still being enviably graceful.
"Listen, Fluttershy. I did something wrong. You don't have to be sorry. Let's take it from the top, okay? Say, 'Rainbow Dash, you are a jerk,'" Dash said.
"Rainbow Dash, you are a...oh, I'm sorry, you're not a jerk, you're just a teensy weensy bit-"
"No, no, no. Let's try something different, okay? Angel, you seem to wear the pants in this relationship," she said, looking across at the bunny who had free reign of the breakfast table. "Tell Fluttershy to tell me that I'm a jerk."
Angel looked up at his pony and twitched his whiskers, which Dash took to mean that weird animal telepathy had occurred. Fluttershy finally nodded. "He says to tell you that you're a jerk and that you smell bad."
"Okay! Awesome! Now that we've established that I'm a jerk and that Angel should make a habit of sleeping with one eye open from now on," she said, dropping an octave, "why am I a jerk, Fluttershy?"
"Oh, Dash. You're not a jerk. You just don't, I mean, sometimes you-"
Dash turned to Tank, sitting faithfully at her side, and sighed. "We're not getting anywhere, are we little buddy?"
"It's just...I'm just so disappointed in you, Rainbow Dash," Fluttershy whispered finally, in a voice that could break hearts. I almost got away with it this time, Dash thought, before being hit by a wave of guilt that had tamed dragons and cockatrices alike. She'd been trying forever to trick Fluttershy into being, like, normal-pony angry and just yelling, but no, she was Fluttershy, the gentlest and kindest pony in all Equestria, a fact she used like a cudgel to beat guilt into your brain. Delicately, of course.
"I mean, I'm very sorry, but Tank may have saved your life once, and how do you repay him? By riding around on him and putting pressure on his delicate little back. That's not nice at all, Dash."
If it had been any other pony, up to and including Princess Celestia herself, Rainbow Dash would have taken that moment to announce that Tank saved her life by letting her ride on his back, that back-ridership was one of the very building blocks of their relationship, and that he really didn't mind so long as she slipped him something delicious and semi-edible at lunchtime. But in Ponyville, there were rules and there were Rules, and one of the Rules was that if Fluttershy was angry at you then you deserved it, no questions asked. (Other Rules included 'Pinkie Pie never smells the same two days in a row,' and 'Never, ever, ever give Twilight Sparkle alcohol. Ever. Even if it's one percent proof. Even if it's only a drop. Even if that drop is only used to bake a rum and raisin ice cream cake. Even if that drop is spread across three rum and raisin ice cream cakes and then those cakes are then spread across five continents in the form of two million crumbs, that Twilight Sparkle will have to find and devour over the course of the next five hundred years. Just don't do it.')
So, for the next five minutes, Dash followed the Rules and listened attentively as Fluttershy gave her such a gentle scolding that she couldn't help but want to rush outside and drown herself in the bird bath. The bird bath, of course, was just slightly too narrow and shallow for a pony with all the requisite facial features (nose, eyes, two thirds of a tongue) to drown themselves in. It was a comforting fact, because it suggested that she wasn't the first pony to have developed that response, and probably would not be the last.
"So, tell Tank that you're sorry," Fluttershy finished, looking at her friend balefully from under her pink mane.
"Tank, Fluttershy told me to tell you-" Dash began, but caught herself before her stupid mouth got her in even more trouble. "I'm sorry, Tank. I promise I won't ride around on you again."
"Oh, how wonderful. He says he accepts your apology! Isn't that great?" the yellow pony said breathlessly. "I think I have some cake left somewhere from Pinkie's last party. We should celebrate this big step you've made, Dash."
Dash flashed what Twilight had called the Accountant's Grin, the smile of a pony who has just made a promise and has every intention of keeping it, mainly by being more creative within the scope of that promise. For, whilst she wasn't going to be riding on her tortoise, she was pretty sure that, with the right harness and one of those little red wagons...
"So, why did you come to see me?" Fluttershy asked, depositing cake upon the table. That was the nice thing about her lectures. If you could just resist the temptation to find the nearest body of water and hurl yourself into it, she'd be convinced you'd made a big step and that big steps should be rewarded with baked goods. One day, some nutty pony would land on the moon, and Fluttershy would be waiting there with a plate of victoria sponge to celebrate the giant leap for Ponykind.
"Well, Pinkie says there's a Doozy on the way. The weather team managed to nix the last of those storm clouds thanks to my awesome efforts the other day, and Twilight says she's going to quit fiddling around with the space-time continuum...whatever that means. So, I came to ask you if there was anything screwy goin' on with the Everfree Forest," Dash asked, glaring as Angel stealthily crept over to the cake she had earned.
"No, I don't think so..."
"No cockatrices building pony rockeries?"
"No, they prefer water features anyway."
"No random outbursts of Poison Joke?"
"If there is, nopony's told me."
"No rampaging bears to speak of?"
"At this time of year, they're all on picnics."
"Huh," Rainbow Dash said, and thumped the table with her hoof. Ostensibly it was for dramatic emphasis, but pragmatically it was to get Angel the hay away from that cake. "Must be something to do with AJ or Rarity then. Maybe even AJ and Rarity."
"I don't know, Rainbow Dash. Why do you think that?" Fluttershy asked, needlessly nervous.
"Because everypony else in the gang is spoken for, and when have you known a crisis to not involve us?" Dash deadpanned. "Anyway, that's all I really came round for."
"Well, I'll, um, keep my eyes open."
"Thanks, Fluttershy. I'll go tell Twilight to talk to Rarity, and then I'll go see AJ later today. We'll head this thing off before it even starts! I'll see you at this week's flying practice, okay? I'll get a Rainboom out of you yet," Dash smirked, and reached over to affectionately muss Fluttershy's mane. Fluttershy's expression was caught halfway between terror and pleasure, which was at least better than the usual 25-75 ratio. "Oh, and thanks for the cake."
"You're welcome. Good luck stopping the Doozy," Fluttershy said, following her to the door.
"Hey, hey. You're talking to Rainbow 'Danger' Dash. I don't need luck. Keep safe, 'Shy, and tell Angel I'm going to murder him in his sleep," Dash said, scooping up Tank and taking off.
Fluttershy watched her go, tracing the rainbow contrails with her eyes until they faded into the distance.
"Angel? Rainbow Dash says she's going to-- oh, you heard? I'm sorry," she said to her little rabbit friend, and retreated back to the peace and quiet of her cottage.
It might be said that Rarity was not an especially frequent visitor to Sugar Cube Corner. It wasn't that she disliked Pinkie Pie, although to be sure she'd had daydreams of putting a comb through that poofy mane of hers. It was more the fact that she lacked the ability of, say, Fluttershy-- glorious, graceful Fluttershy-- to eat whatever she wanted and never gain a pound. She also lacked Twilight's ability to convert any weight she gained into supple curves that suited her figure. No, Rarity had long accepted that if she let even so much as a single cookie pass her lips, she would be sliding down the slippery slope to becoming a pudgy little pony. Not only that, but since the Cake babies had arrived there seemed to be more havoc around the place than even Pinkie could supply single-hoofed. For all her good points, Rarity did not excel at dealing with foals. She kept wanting to hold them up to her own high standards, which she realised was terribly unfair on the poor things. Better, then, to avoid them as much as propriety allowed.
Nevertheless, she was familiar enough with the inner workings of the Corner to remain unfazed when she walked in to find Pinkie Pie draped upside down over a table, talking animatedly to Rainbow Dash. She sometimes wondered why Rainbow bothered to pay rent on her house, since the pegasus barely ever seemed to be inside it. She was forever having sleepovers with Pinkie, or lending some night-time reassurance to Fluttershy, or leaving feathers in the branches of Applejack's trees. Rarity had even heard tales of her nesting in Twilight's rafters, quite at home with Owloysius and a good book. Privately, the unicorn wondered how long it would be before her home, too, would be invaded by a snoozing weather pony. It was, after all, only fair.
"Ah! Hello, girls! Rainbow Dash, I was told you were looking for me?" Rarity began as an opening gambit.
Rainbow Dash looked at her blankly, the gears in her head whirring as she struggled to switch from translating unrefined Pinkie Babble to understanding coherent speech. Eventually, her tongue took up the slack her brain couldn't handle, and greeted Rarity with a toneless "Huh?"
"Well, from what I understand, you were looking for advice of a romantic persuasion. Something to do with a certain book, I think," Rarity hinted without success. "Applejack told me-"
Dash's ears pricked and her eyes lit up as her mind finally switched back into action mode. "AJ? You've seen her? I've been looking for her all day! Where is she?"
"Well, she was enjoying a luncheon with yours truly, but we had a small disagreement and parted ways. She's probably back at the farm by now-"
"Awesome! I can be there in five minutes flat. I need to go and yell at her," Dash said, launching herself from her chair and becoming a hive of nervous energy that neither hell nor hurricane could hope to restrain. She galloped five steps towards the door before abruptly turning and rushing back towards Rarity. "Also, go and see Twilight. She needs to yell at you. In fact, Sergeant Pie?"
Pinkie rolled off the table and sprang to attention with an admirable salute. Inexplicably, she had somehow acquired an army helmet. "Yes, Colonel Dashie?"
"Escort Private Rarity to see General Sparkle once I leave. That's an order!" Dash barked, before cracking her tail. "As for me, I'm off to see Major Applejack. Charge!"
As Dash bolted from the building, Rarity was left with no better option than to scratch her head in puzzlement. Unwisely, she looked to Pinkie Pie for answers. "She is aware that General is higher than Colonel? That she has placed Twilight higher than herself?"
"Colonel sounds cooler," Pinkie said, as if this was all the explanation that was needed. It probably was. "Fluttershy's the chaplain," she added helpfully.
"And I'm a mere private, not even an officer? The cheek of her! You wouldn't imagine the horrors I could visit upon a pony with a sufficiently strong bolt of silk," Rarity sniffed, having quite forgotten the reason she had even begun her visit.
"Wait. If Dashie's yelling at AJ, and Twilight's yelling at you, does that mean I'm going to get yelled at by Fluttershy? That's awful! I mean, I'm her aunt, for cryin' out loud!" Pinkie frowned, for all the world seeming to be honestly distressed by the whole ridiculous thought.
"Perhaps it means you are to yell at Fluttershy?" Rarity suggested, before realising she was just fuelling an already out-of-control fire.
"That's even worse! I super-duper-loop-de-LOOPER don't wanna yell at Fluttershy! What kind of aunt would I be?" the party pony gasped.
"You are aware, darling, that Fluttershy is a year older than you?"
"So? I was elected her aunt! Ponies voted! Seven concerned citizens can't be wrong!"
"Were they concerned when you asked them?"
"They looked concerned!"
"I can't help but wonder why, dear," Rarity replied absently. She was sure there was a reason she was in Sugar Cube Corner, but it wasn't at all apparent. Pinkie Pie took the practice of derailing a conversation and made it an art form. But eventually the objective floated back into her mind, as it always did. When Rarity had a job in front of her, she did it directly.
"Pinkie Pie, dear," Rarity said, honeying her words and fluttering her eyelashes, "before you march me to Twilight -"
"-That's General Sparkle, Private!" Pinkie barked, before falling back into fits of giggles. Sergeant Nasty, she was not.
"- General Twilight, I had something I wanted to discuss with you. You see, I know of a pony in need of your particular talents."
Pinkie's army helmet fell off and rattled to a stop on the floor. It seemed to have done so of its own volition, with no particular input from the laws of physics. Pinkie tilted her head to the side like a curious puppy, eyes wide and gleaming.
"It occurred to me, darling, that somepony we know could do with a bit of cheering up. She's a pony with whom we're both familiar, who loves fun and jokes but sadly does not seem to happen upon them with nearly enough regularity. A pony who loves to laugh but is rarely seen doing so," Rarity continued, her sales pitch well underway. Something in Pinkie's eyes hardened, as if it were a crime that this had been allowed to continue. Her tail twitched.
"Who is it? I don't know anypony like that in Ponyville," the baker said levelly.
"Well, she doesn't hail from our fair town, although I understand she's quite fond of it. I just think it's such a shame, is all, that the poor dear has to put up with this affront," Rarity sniffed theatrically.
Pinkie was now visibly quivering, like a bottle of ginger beer that had been shaken up by a tumble dryer. Such a good-natured pony, Rarity thought, and promised silently to make her a brand-new flame retardant apron as reparation for manipulating her so. Trying desperately to keep a note of triumph from her voice, she finally delivered her master stroke. "Mind you, I can see why the situation has gone on for as long as it has. I mean, really, darling, did you realise that our dear Princess Luna has not had a proper birthday party in one thousand years?"
To say that Pinkamena Diane Pie exploded would be a gross and unjustifiable misrepresentation. But property was damaged, chairs were upended and a suspicious amount of marzipan was relocated from the baking trays to the ceiling. When Rarity's senses had recovered enough to construct a coherent picture of the world, she found herself being circled by a pink blur that was talking approximately three times as fast as Rainbow Dash could fly.
"Darling, please calm down! I can't understand you when you chatter so," she called. After a few more revolutions, the blur slowed to a halt and became Pinkie Pie again, who stood panting with her tongue out, like a dog after a long run.
"A thousand years, Rarity! One triple-oh exclamation mark years! I can't even go a thousand weeks without a party! Or a thousand days! I'm not sure about a thousand hours, though, but I'm pretty sure I could go a thousand minutes if I really, really tried, and we have to do something otherwise she'll probably never ever get a birthday party ever and why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Pinkie asked, eyes wide and staring.
"I only just realised it myself, darling, and I thought, 'if anypony can throw a party that will make up for one thousand missed birthdays in a single extravaganza, that pony is my friend Pinkie Pie'. But, darling, if you'll accept a suggestion from a lesser social butterfly," Rarity replied, all sweetness and light, "cast your mind back a little. As I recall hearing Twilight say, our princess enjoyed the costumed merriment of Nightmare Night. Perhaps, then, a masked ball would be in order...?"
"Wow, I would never have thought of that! Okay, so I sorta did think of that, pretty much as soon as you said it was Princess Luna, but great minds think alike! Let's see, we'll need streamers, cake, ribbons, decorations, cake, invitations, costumes, a venue -"
"About the venue, darling. If we're to throw a party for a princess, we should find a location suitable, should we not? Luckily, I happen to know a pony who may well be able to procure us one of the halls of Canterlot Castle for the event. A pony with a direct line to the princess, and whose brother recently became connected with the royal set in a rather large way," Rarity said with undisguised satisfaction. The first part of her plan was falling smoothly into place. A masked ball, at which she could manoeuvre her pegasus friend into romantic situations without ever revealing her own hoof in the matter...it was just as perfect a set-up as the novels portrayed it to be. Not forgetting, of course, that the chance to attend another Canterlot ball would be a splendid bonus. "Ah, yes. Let's go and see our dear General Sparkle, shall we?"
Twilight Sparkle was not aware she had been made a general. She wasn't aware that she was even included in Ponyville's dream army. In fact, she was only barely aware that something, somewhere in her house, was on fire. What she was aware of was that somepony had taken all the books whose author's names began with 'Q' and then distributed them randomly across the other shelves of the library. There were exactly sixteen such books in her possession, and to find them she would have to search through the literally hundreds of books she owned. If she didn't, the books would remain in The Wrong Place, and she'd never be able to sleep at night knowing that. It was sick. It was wrong.
It was probably Rainbow Dash.
With unconscious and practised ease, she snuffed out the flames that were busy at work consuming her experimentation table. That was a real tragedy, right there. Princess Celestia had often wryly remarked that when Twilight Sparkle heeded the call to scholarship, Equestria had lost one of its finest firemares. Twilight herself didn't consider her firefighting skill to even be a talent; it was just a natural side effect of living with a dragon in a house full of wood. To her, anything smaller than a medium-sized inferno didn't even count.
Her small incendiary problem dealt with, she returned her attention to the vast, looming shelves that made up her library. All she'd wanted was to look up the treatise on frog dancing by Professor Quirk the Addlepated, and instead she now had hours upon hours of pointless, menial work to do. Without that information, she couldn't continue her (now smouldering) experiment. She fought the urge to cry.
Her impending mental breakdown was interrupted by Rarity walking (or, 'flouncing' as Applejack now called it, after some of Rainbow Dash's new and improved egghead vocabulary had rubbed off on her) through her door, with Pinkie Pie in tow.
"Hello, darling! So nice to se-" Rarity began, before sniffing. "What, pray tell, is that burning smell?"
"Oh, just the table. Nothing important. Nice to see you, girls!" Twilight said, with a nod to Pinkie.
"Tell me, how did you find that perfume I gave you to try?" Rarity asked, eyelashes fluttering away. Not many knew it, but Twilight habitually went through large quantities of perfume. Without it, she tended to smell faintly of any number of miscellaneous and probably toxic compounds, a scent that could roughly be described as 'eau de science'. It was certainly an industrious smell, but not by any means an alluring one.
"Highly flammable," Twilight deadpanned. "Spike had a cold. Um, Pinkie, what is the matter with you?"
Pinkamena Diane Pie had hitherto remained silent, which usually heralded very interesting things in the immediate future. With the clarity and swiftness of a pony who actually believed charades was fun, she mimed zipping her mouth closed, throwing away a key, then pointed towards the sign Twilight had recently installed, which bore the commandment, 'Please be quiet in the library.'
"Oh, no. Can't you just...I don't know, whisper it?" Twilight moaned. Pinkie shook her head, which, whilst usually being a hilarious sight because it sent masses of fluffy curls flying hither and thither, was not quite so amusing when the party pony had real tears welling at the corners of her eyes.
"You're really going to make me do that?" the librarian asked, sounding exhausted just at the thought.
"Do what, dear?" Rarity asked.
"This. I'd stand back if I were you," Twilight warned. Rarity took the obligatory five paces backwards that was standard for any situation dealing with Pinkie, then another two to account for dealing with Twilight. Usually any interactions between the two were best viewed from behind six solid inches of sheet steel, but such things were difficult to carry and install in public libraries.
Once Rarity had reached the desired distance, Twilight very slowly and solemnly placed her hoof on Pinkie Pie's nose, and said, in a very strange and quiet voice:
"Honk."
"-Princess Luna hasn't had a birthday party in a thousand years and she must be super-duper sad and we want to throw her a party and we need streamers and cake and you need to write a letter to Princess Celestia so we can all go to Canterlot and we're having a masked party so you need to get a costume and ooh maybe you could be a ninja or a robot or a mad scientist and-" Pinkie paused to take a gasp of air, at which point Twilight- who was sprawled on the floor having been figuratively and literally blown away by the sudden explosion of noise- leapt to her feet and gave her friend a brisk tap on the nose.
"Honk, Pinkie, honk! Ugh, I think I just had a heart attack," the librarian said faintly, as Pinkie went from shouting to making truly heart-rending puppy-dog whines almost seamlessly.
"Wh...What just happened, darling?" Rarity asked. She had wisely decided to take refuge under the table.
Twilight huffed. "I got that new sign saying to be quiet in the library. Since it's not really fair to expect Pinkie to be quiet all the time, I agreed to give her a secret signal when it was okay for her to be loud. She picked the signal."
"I...see," Rarity said, not understanding in the slightest but fully sympathising with her friend's tone of voice. "Well, Pinkie's business with you today happens to be largely the same as mine, so I suppose I can offer a quick recap at normal volumes. But first, I was informed by Rainbow Dash that you wished to, ahem, yell at me?"
"Speak to you. I know for a fact that Rainbow Dash listens to me and understands how to use verbs properly, but sometimes I feel like she does her best just to prove me wrong," Twilight grumbled.
"Wow, I bet nopony's ever felt that impulse before," came Spike's voice from the top of the stairs.
The little dragon, industrious as he was, was moving a stack of scrolls, parchments, papers, vellums and other assorted academia that was almost as large as he was tall. Despite this, he had the misfortune of being able to peek over it and catch sight of Rarity. Upon doing this, a few chain reactions took place in his body, the first being that his legs turned to jelly, and the second being that he immediately lost interest in descending the stairs in a safe manner and become quite interested in throwing himself down them as fast as possible, the better to reach his lady fair.
There was a crash, and some rustling, and a little groaning, and then Twilight lifted a dazed Spike out of a veritable mountain of paper.
"Oh, Spikey-Wikey! So glad to see you, darling. I have a few peridots that I've no use for back at the shop, and if you and Twilight would like to visit me in the week I shall be most glad to prepare them for you," Rarity said, before adding, "but you mustn't endanger yourself like that, dear, no matter how excited you are by my visit."
"Yeah, Spikey-Wikey. What am I going to do if my number one assistant gets a concussion?" Twilight asked, changing tone from 'sarcastic friend' to 'concerned mother' halfway through. In Twilight's case this wasn't really a huge change, but it was there.
"D...Do the filing yourself?" Spike retorted, before muttering something about peridots tasting of broccoli. With a sigh, Twilight lowered him to the floor and told him to run to the store and get an ice pack, before pushing a few bits into his claws with the certain knowledge that he would creatively misinterpret the words 'ice pack' to mean 'double chocolate fudge sundae'. Obligingly, she had made sure he had enough money for both.
Once her number one assistant had staggered out of the library in search of the town's number one ice cream parlour, Twilight quickly informed Rarity of the possible incoming Doozie that had come to their attention. She looked very tired as she spoke, but then she usually did. Spending all her time taking care of a baby dragon, a library and a town full of lunatics left her barely any time to take care of herself. It was a crime, Rarity thought, and made a note to ask Fluttershy if they could perhaps drag Twilight along on their next spa date.
"...and that's the size of it. We're checking all leads on what it could possibly be, and so far, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Pinkie and I have come up with nothing. Are you planning anything that could possibly be Doozie-related?" Twilight asked. Pinkie, upon hearing her name, ceased looking over the bookshelf she had wandered over to and resumed making puppy-dog noises.
"Of course not! All I have planned is a little evening party, which is in fact the matter Pinkie and I came to discuss with you," Rarity said, skipping over Twilight's warning and warming up those eyelashes of hers for some serious fluttering. As she explained the situation, Twilight's face shifted from interest, to exasperation, to desperation, and finally to outright head-on-desk frustration.
"So, what you're saying, Rarity," Twilight said, her voice high and strained, "is that you want to throw a party in the country's most sensitive centre of government, with members of the royal family in attendance, where everypony is masked, when we have full knowledge that there is a truly massive Doozie on the way, and you somehow think this is not a huge security issue?"
Ah. This is a problem, Rarity thought, tossing her mane a little out of nervousness. She hadn't been aware how seriously Twilight was taking the Doozie situation. She almost blamed Pinkie for not telling her about it directly, but then again, she hadn't asked, had she, she'd just launched straight into birthday parties for Luna...
"W-Well, I can't help but think it'll be safe, darling. After all, the princesses will be there-- the most powerful ponies in all Equestria! Along with a full regiment of the royal guard, no doubt. I don't think there'll be any danger."
Twilight Sparkle opened her mouth, then closed it again and began to chew her lip. She made a few false starts, sometimes angry, sometimes sad, never getting past the first three words or so without rethinking it. She scrabbled desperately for words that would let her express how she felt without being a jerk to her friend, words that no dictionary in the world would ever help her find.
"Did you forget what happened when the Changelings attacked?" she said finally, voice heavy, ears low.
Rarity didn't respond. To do so wouldn't have been audacious, or shown confidence, or anything of the sort. It would merely have been crass. In the wake of her brother's wedding, Twilight had found out the hard way that the mind forgets its joys quickly, and its trials less so. She had told her friends of her concerns over the fake Cadence's behaviour, and the very ponies she trusted most refused to believe her; she had tried to fix the problem herself by confronting the imposter, and failed spectacularly. Then she had been shown, in the worst possible way, that Princess Celestia, the mentor whose approval she craved so very much, was not perfect, was not infallible, could be hurt. Rarity dreaded to imagine how broken that particular pedestal might now be.
"I'm sorry, Rarity, but I can't help you. Wait until this whole thing with the Doozie has blown over, and then we'll see," Twilight sighed. "It probably won't take more than a week or two."
And in a week or two, my window of opportunity to introduce Rainbow Dash to romance will have completely disappeared, Rarity thought. She could find no way out of it, though. It would be indelicate to push the matter further with Twilight, and outright insulting to draft a letter to Princess Celestia without the librarian's knowledge. It had all been going so well, too.
It was at that point that Pinkie Pie trotted over. Trotted, Rarity noted. Not skipped. Worse, though, was that she wasn't smiling.
Twilight Sparkle was a pony used to strange things. After all, the reason she refused to drink was not because she feared she might go on a destructive rampage, as everypony else thought, but more because of her concern that she would do something weird, like travel back in time and make out with herself 'for the sake of science'. Here, then, was a pony who had fought dragons, changelings and trickster gods, and whose worst nightmare was still waking up in the morning to find herself from next Tuesday looking at her with come-hither eyes. But even with her exposure to the weird, she still couldn't help feeling that a universe in which Pinkie Pie wasn't smiling was a universe that was doing things wrong.
"Twilight? I know I can be annoying sometimes, and noisy. I mean, there's some guy up there who keeps comparing me to a puppy for some reason, and that's gotta mean something, right? But I really, really, really think this is important. Princess Luna was all lonely and sad when we saw her on Nightmare Night, but then we all made friends with her and had a bunch of fun and she was happy. And I'm sure she's got friends at the castle, but we're her friends too, and nopony knows how to have fun as well as we do! So we should go and throw her a party, because we're her friends and that's the right thing to do."
Rarity watched as Twilight tried to process the argument. The problem was that the unicorn and the earth pony thought in completely different ways. Twilight saw debates as calmly rational and logical things, where one point flowed into another and led to a justified conclusion. Pinkie, however, had the innate talent of constructing an argument wherein none of the points actually related to each other and didn't actually justify anything, yet when taken holistically, was still a powerful argument in a common-sense way.
"But, Pinkie, it isn't safe," the unicorn tried.
"What's the point of being safe if you can't have fun?" Pinkie asked, flopping down one ear.
Twilight ummm'd and aahh'd a few seconds. She knew how to deal with Rarity, and she was pretty good at dealing with Spike. Hay, she was even making headway on being able to handle Rainbow Dash. But she had no idea how to handle Pinkie Pie. Logic just wouldn't work. So, the obvious choice was to be illogical. Trust her intuition. It couldn't be that hard. After all, she was Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia's faithful student, the place where the sun and the moon met -- and all-round sucker for a compromise.
"Okay, okay. As soon as Spike gets back, I'll start drafting a letter to the Princess," Twilight said, before looking pointedly over at Rarity. "But I'm telling her about the Doozie, and about my concerns. If she says no, then that's it -- I'm not asking again. Capiche?"
"Capiche? Darling, you really have been spending too much time around Rainbow Dash lately," Rarity tittered. Thankfully, the tension in the room disappeared.
"Ooh, ooh, ooh! Speaking of Colonel Dashie, did you ever figure out the riddle with the shuffled books?" Pinkie asked, ears springing up and smile firmly in place. She was a little louder than was really acceptable in a library, but Twilight decided to let it slide.
"No," the librarian replied, ears flopped down and tail limp, a firm contrast to her excitable friend.
"Wow! It's been a whole week, and you still haven't figured it out? Dashie put all the books back upside down," Pinkie babbled, casually sweeping away a dozen potential hours of menial work without even a second thought.
"Really?! Wow! If you girls will excuse me, I have re-shelving to do!" Twilight said, grinning in a very faintly unhinged way. "...wait. Colonel Dashie? Since when is Rainbow a colonel?"
"Hmph," Rarity sniffed theatrically. "What kind of general doesn't know the state of her own army? I've half a mind to stage a coup."
"General? I'm a general? Rarity, please, stop. You're the one who's supposed to make sense," Twilight groaned, her eye twitching.
"I know, right? I thought coups were against governments, not generals. Or maybe they're against chickens? Either one, really," Pinkie said conspiratorially.
"...darling, how could you mix up coup and coop? They're pronounced completely differently," Rarity protested.
"Well, you spell it kinda like coop. I just figured you forgot to not pronounce the silent p."
"How could you know how I spell it? I said it, as opposed to writing it down. And how, pray tell, does one pronounce a silent letter?"
Twilight took two sharp steps towards Pinkie and tapped her on the nose. "Pinkie, honk. Rarity, take Pinkie and go. All this...this, is giving me a headache. You know how hard it can be to control your magic when you have a headache. I'd hate to accidentally teleport somepony into the river again."
"Nopony wants that. Ugh! Applejack was trailing algae for weeks," Rarity sniffed. "Very well. I suppose we shall be leaving. Do make sure to write that letter, won't you?"
"As if you'd let me forget," Twilight replied, rolling her eyes.
"Excellent, darling. Well, Pinkie, shall we go?" Rarity asked, opening the door. Pinkie followed in her wake, puppy noises in full swing. "Now, tell me dear, do you think Mr. Cake would consider making a batch of low fat brownies at this hour? I feel the urge for something sweet..."
The door shut and the conversation trailed off as the two walked away. Twilight sighed. Sometimes the greatest of friends were the greatest of trouble. By her reckoning, it would take at least half an hour before Spike waddled in with a full belly and the pretence of having 'lost' exactly enough money to buy his weight in ice cream. That would give her time to compose her letter, double-check it, and then go back to thinking of less ominous things, like re-shelving her books. With that in mind, she trotted over to her desk and, with the distinct feeling that she was doing something stupid, began to write.
A/N: My greatest thanks to Starfall for pre-reading this. As always, I was surprised by just how many little derp moments I let slip through.
Rainbow Dash was not what you would call a light sleeper. Her usual alarm clock consisted of falling out of a tree, and her normal sleeping position was sprawled over rafters, bannisters, branches-- anything that could support her weight, and quite a few things that couldn't. She used fragments of the clouds as quilts and pillows, the better for an impromptu nap. She snored, but only very quietly.
However, for Twilight Sparkle, at seven in the morning and in the absence of coffee, every noise was thunder rattling over her roof tiles and hooves down a blackboard. She also rather preferred anypony sleeping in her home to, y'know, alert her first, instead of sneaking in through the window in the dead of night like a common burglar. Nopony really knew what Twilight Sparkle did to common burglars, but the general opinion was that burglars on the whole would become rather less common if they found out.
In lieu of any better solution to the problem of Rainbow Dash, Twilight decided that her best option was to give her friend a very gentle prod with an enchanted broom-- the kind of 'gentle prod' that requires a good run-up, and a battle cry if possible.
To her very great credit, Dash was fully awake a fraction of a second after the broom-poke punted her over the edge of the rafter she'd been sleeping on, and began controlling her fall with the effortless skill of a pony who was used to such awakenings. Less to her credit, she failed to predict Twilight Sparkle attacking again on the backstroke, and caught the flat end of the broom with her face. She wasn't able to save herself a second time, and went tumbling to the floor. As she lay tangled up in her own limbs, Twilight stood over her, erect, dominating, triumphant.
"That," the unicorn announced, eyes flashing, "is for re-arranging my books."
Dash rolled her eyes, got up, and spat out some bristles that had gotten into her mouth. "Cool story, Twi. What's for breakfast? Besides broom, obviously."
Twilight snorted and told her that unwanted guests didn't get breakfast, before setting the table for three and pouring her a bowl of cereal. Dash smirked to nopony in particular, and settled down for what she always thought of as a relaxing early morning chat, which just so happened to take the form of a lecture on all the stupid things she'd apparently done this week.
The problem with Twilight's lectures was that, unlike Fluttershy's, which you couldn't ignore, because it was Fluttershy and she'd worked up the courage to tell you off and why were you invalidating all her efforts by not listening you monster, or Rarity's, which were simply too annoying and theatrical to ignore, Twilight had a nice enough voice and a robust enough psyche that you didn't feel bad about tuning her out. With practice (and Rainbow Dash had lots of practice) even her longest rants could be turned into soothing waves of noise, and all you had to do for the next five minutes was look contrite.
At the end of the unicorn's spiel, which might have been a confession of undying love for all Dash knew, Spike woke up, trotted to the table and unceremoniously barfed a roll of parchment into Twilight's cornflakes. With that done, he nodded a good morning to Rainbow Dash, climbed into his seat, and began to read the morning paper.
"Twi, your house is weird," Dash said conversationally as the unicorn fished the letter out of her bowl. "Hey, Spike, anything good in the sports pages?"
"Fillydelphia Phantoms won again," Spike yawned.
"What? The Fillies? They're a bunch of amateurs! They barely even deserve to be in the league!"
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Twilight said after a moment, "but aren't the Phantoms an ice-skating team?"
Dash narrowed her eyes. "What're you tryin' to say, Twi? That I only pay attention to the flying teams? Hey, I've got friends who ice skate. You and I both know that Pinkie could outskate these foals with her eyes closed."
"Maybe so, but you say that about everypony. According to you, Applejack's the best rodeo pony in the history of time even when she comes in second, and I'm the world's best magician despite the fact that I'm nothing compared to Princess Celestia," Twilight pointed out.
"There's nothing wrong with having a high opinion of your friends. After all, if I don't believe in you, how are you guys supposed to believe in yourself? It's all about confidence!" Dash said, and smacked her hoof down on the table for emphasis.
"You know, that's both the sweetest and most self-centred thing you've said all week. Well done," Twilight snarked. "But Spike, why are you so interested in ice skating?"
"I like the choreography," the dragon shrugged.
The unicorn gave this a second's thought, then shrugged. She was never any good in the mornings, mainly because she had a habit of staying up into the dead of the night, writing or reading or reading things she'd written. In that, she felt a small kinship with Rainbow Dash; neither could wake up with any grace. But then again, Twilight had a secret weapon.
Dash watched with barely concealed fascination as her friend trotted off to the kitchen to make a cup of what could charitably be called 'coffee'. Really, it was a sort of tar-black caffienated goop that looked up at you from the cup and dared you to drink it. It did not pour out of a cup, but rolled instead. Such was its potency that it had begun to acquire legendary status amongst Ponyvillians-- rumour had it that one sip had killed Fluttershy outright, and a second had brought her back to life.
In fact, Twilight had learned the recipe from a coffee parlour in Canterlot, owned by a Mr. Joe Bean. Joe was of the opinion that good coffee was drunk, but great coffee should be chewed. It was so thick that it needed to be stirred with an oar rather than a spoon, and had a nasty tendency to dissolve tabletops if you spilt it. As such, Mr. Bean's All-Nite Coffee had garnered a reputation among the wilder magic students for selling the most mind-altering substance in Equestria, much to the chagrin of the alchemy majors, who constantly sought to one-up it.
Twilight Sparkle poured a slug of it into a cup the size of a thimble, and returned to the breakfast table. Rainbow Dash made a point of staring directly at her, magenta eyes locked steadily on her cup. The unicorn sighed. This happened every time Dash slept over, whether she alerted Twilight to her presence first or not. She threw back her head, gulped down her coffee, and experienced a number of interesting facial spasms as it set to work roughly kicking her body into gear. She gave a guilty little shiver, then sighed contentedly. If it didn't make every hair on your body stand on end, Joe had said, it wasn't real coffee.
Across the table, Rainbow Dash broke down into a fit of giggles. Spike rustled his newspaper to disguise a snort, but before long he'd given up the pretence of dignity and broke down with her. Dash's laughter was notoriously infectious, just like Pinkie's; put them together, and they'd scale logarithmically.
"Are you two done?" Twilight asked after the customary ten second grace period.
"Ha ha! Oh, I'm just- haha! Sorry, Twi, but your coffee face is just the funniest thing!" Dash said, nearly knocking over her cereal bowl in her histrionics.
"Plainly, you haven't seen Rarity's," Twilight deadpanned. "Anyway, we have things we need to talk about. Like, why you're even in my house."
"Fluttershy wouldn't let me sleep over at hers. She gets paranoid if I don't ask three days in advance every time," Dash replied innocently, as though she had just constructed a foolproof and all-powerful argument.
"What about Pinkie Pie? And AJ has a barn, doesn't she?"
"Well, I asked, but Pinkie was really hyper for some reason. I don't think I'd have gotten a wink of sleep. AJ's in a bad mood with me, too, after I tracked her down yesterday. I might've teased her about having lunch with Rarity, a teensy bit."
"A teensy bit?" Twilight asked, her eyebrow raised.
"Oh, you know. The usual stuff," Dash said evasively. "AJ and Rarity sittin' in a tree, opposites most definitely attract, if you love her so much why don't you just throw her down in the hay and get the rodeo started-"
"Ahem! There's a baby dragon present."
"Yeah, and? You do realise that the paper he's reading has saucy pictures on the third page, right? Way to go there, Captain Mom."
Spike began very casually flicking through the pages of his newspaper, before it was yanked rudely from his claws. Twilight gave him a scowl.
"But Dash, back to the point. You have your own house. Why didn't you sleep there?"
"But then I wouldn't get to see your coffee face in the morning. Plus, free cereal!" Dash replied innocently. Only the guiltiest of ponies knew how to sound so innocent reliably. (Well, them and Fluttershy.)
"Ugh! Fine. But tell me first next time," Twilight groaned finally, before turning her attention to the letter, which was well on the way to drying after its milk bath. She used her magic to unfurl it, snapping it like a towel and splashing the last few drops of milk over Spike, before scanning it quickly. When she lowered it, her face had fallen a little.
"I told you she'd say yes. You owe me an ice cream cone, by the way," the dragon said, looking remarkably smug.
"Usually, a bet takes place between two or more individuals, not between one dragon and whoever happens to be in the room when he announces that he's betting. I never agreed to anything, Spike, and you know it. But yes. The party is on," Twilight said, looking as though her fondest wish was to add an 'unfortunately' to the end.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa. Whoa. Party? There's a party goin' on? Why wasn't I told? I love parties! They're relevant to my interests!" Dash pouted.
Twilight sighed. "Yes, Dash, there's a party. Pinkie and Rarity want to throw a birthday party for Princess Luna to make up for all the ones she missed when she was in the moon. They wanted me to ask Princess Celestia if she'd lend them a venue at Canterlot. I was against it because of the potential security issues, but...Well, the Princess knows best."
To Twilight's horror, Rainbow Dash responded with a grin that was one hundred percent weapons-grade Trouble condensed into a single facial expression. There were faces that launched a thousand ships, and there were faces which sent them all back home crying to their towering oaken mommies, and Rainbow Dash was definitely employing the latter.
"Y'know, Twi," the pegasus said with false nonchalance, "I distinctly don't remember getting back at Princess Luna for that little trick she pulled on Nightmare Night. I'm thinking I ought to correct that."
"Rainbow Dash, you're using big words. I don't like it when you use big words," the unicorn warned.
"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, as one prankster to another. After all, it's a sign of respect between members of the profession," Dash carried on, rubbing her hooves together with glee.
"Oh, no. No, Dash. Stop right there. I'm not going to let you justify this madness by calling it a profession. New rule, okay? You can only call it a profession if you can be a professor in it."
"Hah! Well, Twi, I profess to prank with the best! Stick that in your bubble pipe and smoke- er, bubble...uh, verb it! Yeah, stick it in your pipe and verb it!" Dash concluded loftily.
"Oh, I'll verb something all right,"Twilight muttered.
"Didn't you get back at her when you were at the wedding?" Spike asked.
"Come on, little guy. Even I know it wouldn't have been appropriate. Besides," Dash whispered conspiratorially, "did you see the security? Pinkie's entire stash of water bombs got confiscated. I was surprised she managed to sneak the Party Cannon through, but nopony expects the Party Cannon."
"You know what? Fine. Just try and cause trouble. But you know what? Rarity and Pinkie are doing the party arrangements, and they'll know you're planning something. Plus, I'm going to be there too, for damage control, and if I catch you making mischief for Princess Luna, I will personally make you read the entire dictionary. Out loud," Twilight threatened.
"...You totally can't do that. Can you?"
"You're talking to a pony who can teleport and time travel at will. Factor that into your equations before deciding what I 'totally' can't do."
"Fair point. A spell that makes you read out the entire dictionary...Man! Unicorns get all the best stuff. There's so much prank potential, right there. Say, Twi, you ever thought about joining the Dark Side? You stick with me and Pinkie, we'll show you some real fun."
"The two most brightly coloured ponies I know are the Dark Side? Riiiiiiiight. I'll tell you if I ever get the urge to cause panic and chaos in the general populace, but, just so you know, historically I've been pretty opposed to the idea. Chocolate rain and Rarity breaking her back trying to lift a rock lose their appeal pretty quickly," Twilight said, and got up. "Speaking of Rarity, I ought to go and tell her she's got permission for the party. Would you like to come along? It's a costumed ball, so you can probably talk her into making you an outfit for it."
"It's a costume party? I'm sorry, Twi, but that's just asking for trouble," Dash said gleefully.
"That's what I said," Twilight groaned. "Spike, watch the house for me, okay? Come on, Dash."
After they left, Spike yawned, took up his newspaper once more, skipped to the third page to find it contained only an advertisement for ketchup, sighed, and lamented the ice cream cone he had almost won. Then, after eating the remnants of his own and Rainbow Dash's cereal, he retreated back to bed, sure in the knowledge that whatever was going on between the Elements Of Harmony, it would not end well.
Previously, on Fear of The Fall. Rainbow Dash read a book! Rarity is planning a party! Pinkie Pie sensed a doozy! Applejack had some arguments! Twilight is exasperated! Fluttershy isn't plot relevant yet.
The door of the Carousel Boutique was not a flimsy specimen, but a robust and husky plane of oak, likely to outlast the shop itself and all its inhabitants. Of course, it needed to be. The fashion world had more than its fair share of drama queens, all of whom were inclined to storm from the room when a deal hadn't quite gone their way, and a door that could stand up to a good slamming was a friend indeed to any serious dress-maker. Rarity, however, had gone the extra mile when she picked her door. Varnished, sanded, and sounded out for that perfect acoustic crash when manhandled, it was to doors as princes were to peasants. It was so fine as to receive letters of praise from disgruntled customers, ostensibly letters composed of complaints and veiled threats, but always including lateral compliments on her fixtures and fittings. All in all, it was a truly magnificent door, perfect in every way, and Rarity felt no small degree of pride in it.
Rainbow Dash also enjoyed Rarity's enormous portal, for reasons she had never really bothered to articulate. It was a long standing dream of hers to sneak back in the dead of night, steal the door and replace it with something, but she hadn't decided what the substitute would be. She could always just replace it with a worse door, but that wouldn't be funny enough. Sliding glass doors and trapdoors would be too loud and cumbersome to install. She'd briefly entertained the notion of using hanging beads, but that'd be a security risk and she didn't really want to see Rarity robbed and murdered in her own home. Eventually, she had decided that the only proper replacement for such a magnificent door was one of those cast-iron ones with the portholes in, like the ones on the submarine Pinkie had somehow acquired. Unfortunately, that involved stealing a door from a vehicle that spent most of its time underwater, which was just too much effort for a one-off gag.
However, even if she couldn't steal it, she could still slam it, and once she and Twilight were inside the boutique she took great pleasure in doing just that.
"You know, darling, it's traditional to do that at the end of a visit rather the beginning," Rarity said by way of greeting.
"Don't worry. I'll slam it on the way out too," Dash replied breezily.
Rarity blinked. "Well. Um. That's...wonderful?"
Twilight looked from one pony to the other with barely disguised interest. She had always been quietly fascinated by how Rarity and Rainbow Dash managed to remain friends despite having relatively little in common with each other. The longer she observed them, the more obvious it became that, secretly, they didn't know how to deal with each other at all. Sure, they could work together flawlessly in the event of, say, a rampaging dragon, but the threat of immediate and painful death had a lot to do with it. (Twilight had learned long ago that, whatever else it might be, a world-ending crisis was a marvellous conversation point. There was nothing quite like a rampaging dragon as an icebreaker).
"So, uh. I heard you and AJ had lunch yesterday. Did she, uh, do any rootin' in your tootin'?" Dash asked awkwardly after the silence became unbearable.
"...Darling, I don't know what that means," the unicorn replied. She sounded like a helpless kitten.
Rarity looked at Twilight, then at Rainbow Dash, then concluded that they were both quite insane. Of course, she had known that for quite some time, but the depth of the malady constantly surprised her.
Evidently it showed on her face, because Dash flashed her a winning smile and began explaining. "Oh, don't worry about that. It's just a little secret code Twi uses to yell at me when she doesn't want anypony to know what she's yelling at me for."
Once more, Rarity blinked.
"Of course, the first time she did it, she didn't actually know I knew how to speak it, so she was pretty much just shoutin' insults at me," Dash continued. "Man, she used words that'd turn the air blue."
"For the last time, 'ignoramus' is not a dirty word," Twilight said, grinding her hoof against her forehead.
"Snrk. She said 'amus'," Dash giggled. "Anyway, Rarity, I hear you're setting up a party. I'd better be invited."
With an audible sigh of relief, Rarity latched on to the conversation topic with all the ferocity of a desperate limpet. "Why, yes, darling, of course you are. As is Twilight. Provided, of course, we have a venue?"
"The princess' permission came through this morning," Twilight replied.
"It landed in her breakfast," Dash added.
"It landed in my breakfast," the librarian nodded sagely. "Princess Celestia won't be able to attend, but Princess Luna will be there."
"Fabulous! It would be somewhat of a bust, as the expression goes, if the princess of honour were unable to attend. At least we don't have to worry about that scenario. Besides," Rarity continued with a wink, "I think Pinkie would have hunted her down and dragged her to the party regardless."
Rainbow Dash shuddered. There was nothing quite like being stalked by Pinkie to instil an appreciation for endurance hunters. It was like being followed around by the world's cuddliest, bounciest shark. A shark that had a Pinkiecopter.
"So, do you have any ideas about what costumes you'll be wearing, girls? I would, of course, only be too happy to help out when it comes to the apparel," Rarity said, smiling and batting her eyelashes.
Twilight frowned. "Sorry, Rarity, but I already have something in mind. It'd be no fun if I told you about it beforehoof."
Although Rarity's smile remained in place, she couldn't help but feel there was a hint of suspicion in Twilight's voice. But then again, she thought, the poor dear was on the watch for a Doozie. Besides, paranoia and Twilight Sparkle went together like Lady Hay and toasted teacakes.
"Cool. That leaves more Rarity-time for my costume," Dash chimed in. "What? Don't look at me like that, Twi. It isn't like I can sew, and who else is gonna make me one? I mean, I'd ask Fluttershy, but she adds ruffles to everything. Even the ruffles. You get a costume from 'Shy, you go to the party dressed as a doily."
Rarity tittered. "To be fair, you'd be going as the best-sewn doily in all Equestria. Her needlework is nothing short of exquisite, especially considering she hoof-stitches. But that's quite beside the point. Rest assured, Twilight, it will be a mere triviality to create costumes for our masquerade. The standards are a touch lower than that of high fashion."
"Hm. Well, if you say so. Just don't overwork yourself. I have a feeling I'll need all hooves on deck to make sure nothing goes wrong," Twilight warned, before shooting a look at Dash. The pegasus grinned.
"I'm sure nothing will go wrong, darling. Anypony seeking to upset the event will have to answer to Pinkie. Not a fate, I am sure, that anypony among us would aspire to," Rarity continued pointedly. Dash's grin only grew wider.
"Speaking of Pinkie, I'd better go and tell her the venue's been confirmed," the librarian said.
"She seemed really hyper last night, so she probably stayed up making invitations or somethin'. If she did, give her a shot of your coffee. That'll perk her up!" Dash added.
"Oh, yes, because there's no way that could possibly go wrong. I'll leave you two to it," Twilight said, and, with a final roll of her eyes, disappeared with a crack and a flash of light.
After the glow of teleportation had died down, Rainbow Dash strolled to the door, opened it, then slammed it again with enough force to put cracks in the plastering.
"You gotta slam the door at the end of a visit. It's traditional. Lucky for Twi that I'm around to pick up the slack," the pegasus explained, with a straight face that crooked salesponies the world over would have killed for. Rarity got the sudden impression that she had made a great error in word choice quite recently.
"Sooooo. Costume ideas. I'm thinking awesome, but not so awesome that I steal all the attention, you know? We're looking for, like, a medium amount of awesome here," Dash explained, gesticulating as though awesomeness was a fish and she had just caught several of different but equally unlikely sizes.
"I see. Well, I'm sure we can come up with a costume of moderate 'awesomeness'," Rarity replied, having privately decided that what Rainbow Dash actually meant was 'my costume must be the most awesome thing in existence.' "I seem to remember you being into the whole Daring Do aesthetic, so how about we base a costume on that?"
Dash's brow furrowed. She liked that idea. In fact, she loved it. Daring Do's costume was simple enough that she could probably keep Rarity from adding a corset or a skirt or something, and it was pretty much guaranteed to be cool. The problem was that it was predictable, and if she was going to get any pranking done at the party, she wanted to have as low-key a costume as possible. If she went with a Daring Do costume, Twilight would see through it in seconds.
"I, uh...I dunno, Rarity. I wouldn't want to go in a Daring Do outfit unless it was, like, 100% based on the books, y'know? She only ever wears a mask in book three, and that one's made of solid gold with rubies and stuff, so unless you've picked up a degree in spot welding or something, I think pass," Dash invented wildly, privately cursing the offer for being so tempting.
Rarity frowned. She'd been sure Daring Do would have been quote-unquote 'awesome' enough for Rainbow Dash's tastes. Perhaps it was time to up the ante.
"Hmm...Oh, I know! How about I make you a mock Wonderbolts costume? It wouldn't be too terribly hard to do..."
To Rarity's surprise, the pegasus shook her head with no hesitation at all. "A Wonderbolt costume? No way. Not happening. I've been tryin' to get into that costume since I was a little filly. I don't wanna cheapen all that by just getting one off the rack for a fancy dress party."
"Hm. That was well said," Rarity nodded, impressed. "But in that case, I don't really know what we'll do about your costume."
"Well, we'll just have to brainstorm. I mean, if you can do this whole fashion gig for a living, and I can come up with like a billion awesome pranks, we should be able to put our heads together on this one. Hey, what do you think AJ will-" Dash began, then stopped. A wicked grin spread itself across her face.
She had been about to ask what Applejack would be wearing. But, now she thought about it, she already knew what AJ would wear, and, for an added bonus, what Twilight would wear. With any luck, Fluttershy would be wearing it too. All she had to do was blend in with the crowd, and let the confusion do all the work for her. It was perfect.
Across the room, Rarity had no idea what thoughts were going through the pegasus' head. But she could guess. For Dash to name a mare and then cut herself short, as if she had narrowly avoided revealing a secret-- it was tantamount to a confession of love. It may even, Rarity's imagination posited, been a mark of a clandestine affair. Perhaps the farmer doth protest too much for her innocence to be believed? Even if not, it indicated a great deal of value placed on Applejack's opinions and happenings, which was very interesting indeed.
"Hm? What was that about Applejack, darling?" the unicorn asked, feigning ignorance.
"Oh, nothin'," Dash said quickly. She could do without revealing the logic behind her awesome plan, especially to somepony who had such a great interest in the party going flawlessly. "I have a costume idea, though."
"Do tell," Rarity prompted, privately noting the hasty denial and adding it to a list of evidence for a continuing liaison with an apple farmer.
"I'm thinkin', we gotta get me a costume everypony knows. But it has to be awesome, and it has to have a mask. So, I'm thinking I dress as a mare who was actually awesome enough to beat yours truly," Dash said grandly, soaring into the air as she did. She enjoyed being dramatic. "A mare we're both familiar with. A mare the town adores. I'm thinking...a Mare Do Well."
"Oh, what a wonderful idea! Of course, you never did get your own Mare Do Well costume. It shouldn't be difficult at all to whip one up for you," Rarity purred, her eyelashes fluttering.
As she started measuring, Rarity couldn't suppress a smile. Step two of her plan was now complete. She knew exactly what Rainbow Dash would be dressed as when the costume ball began, but her own costume was still entirely secret. That would make it the easiest thing in the world to find the pegasus at the party and pump her for information on her romantic likes and dislikes, without ever being discovered.
As she was being measured, Rainbow Dash couldn't suppress a smile. Step one of her plan was now complete. In all probability, there'd be four Mare Do Wells at the party-- herself, Twilight, Applejack and Fluttershy. Twilight was clever enough to catch the lack of wings and rule out AJ, but that still left her and Fluttershy. All she needed to do was act like Fluttershy just long enough to set things up without being interrupted. She'd known Fluttershy since they were fillies. It was going to be easy.
As it turned out, despite her being the most eminent scholar on friendship that Ponyville had to offer, Twilight's view of the situation had been quite wrong. The athlete and the fashionista had plenty in common, a propensity for feather-brained schemes in particular. Yet, standing just a few feet apart, neither of them knew it.
Last time on Space Ninja Chef Scootaloo: Rodriguez, evil King of Doors, flaunted his erotic oaken visage before the ponies of the Carousel Boutique. With a stunning blow Rainbow Dash silenced his reign of tyranny forever, then began drawing up plans for 'Operation: Screw The Costume Party'.
Fluttershy still isn't plot relevant yet.
Applejack was no stranger to an early start. Lie-ins were about as common in Sweet Apple Acres as newborn penguins in Appleoosa, and the farm pony made it a rule to be up by dawn at the latest. After all, she reasoned, the sooner you started work for the day, the sooner you finished, and could spend the rest of your day doing more enjoyable things…like knocking Rainbow Dash out of trees, for example. Today, however, she'd gotten up earlier than usual, for one very simple reason.
She was terrified.
Yesterday, she'd learned two things: that Rarity was taking an interest in 'improving' Dash's love life, and that Pinkie Pie was sensing a phenomenal Doozie. Her grasp of maths might've been a little bit shaky, but she'd put two and two together and gotten 'trouble' for an answer. In her humble opinion, the situation could go critical at any moment, and it was time to appeal to a higher authority: Fluttershy.
Applejack and Fluttershy shared an easy, but not especially close, friendship. They had a lot in common, principally that they worked closely with the land and nature, that they got up at the crack of dawn to do so, and that they were both practical at heart (although in Fluttershy's case, that tended to go out of the window as soon as she was even remotely startled). Ironically, it was the very things that brought them together that drove them apart; farms and animals waited for nopony, and there just wasn't time to hang out together as much as they might with Dash or Rarity. There was, however, one more thing that kept them from being the closest of friends, and that was Fluttershy's lawn.
The pegasus' lawn was not actually a lawn, but rather a thirty foot radius outside her house in which most animals that stopped by to see her (which was no small number) tended to leave a nice, fresh dollop of all-natural fertiliser. You could find cat droppings in anypony's garden, but only in Fluttershy's would you run the risk of stepping ankle deep into a manticore pat. If Applejack hadn't known better, she'd have sworn the pegasus kept it that way on purpose to discourage any strangers from visiting her cottage. In a town full of earth ponies, that was certainly what it achieved.
Of course, it wasn't a problem for, say, Rainbow Dash, who had never set hoof on the lawn and never intended to. Twilight got around the issue by using teleportation for fun and profit, Pinkie Pie's sixth sense kept her hooves well away from the mucky stuff, and Rarity had developed a habit of turning up in the world's trendiest pair of thigh-high rubber boots and a hazmat suit whenever she went calling on her timid friend. AJ, on the other hoof, had no choice but to swallow her pride, hold her nose, and pray she didn't trip on any fossilised cockatrice pellets. Now, she prepared to do just that.
Upon reaching the door of Fluttershy's cottage (having narrowly avoided stepping in any of the more obvious manure hotspots), Applejack rapped three times on the door and immediately heard the sound of somepony dropping a plate and attempting to hide under the kitchen table.
“Fluttershy? It's Applejack. Ah hate to drop in unannounced, but Ah need your help with somethin',” Applejack called. After a good thirty seconds, the door opened to reveal Fluttershy in her dressing gown, Angel perched upon her back.
“Oh, I'm sorry, Applejack. I was, um, just feeding Angel, and I wasn't expecting you, so I, um, hid,” she mumbled. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”
Ten minutes later, Applejack was sharing a breakfast table with a bunny, three species of bird and a small family of hedgehogs, staring down at a cup of tea she had no desire to drink. It smelt so fiercely of mint that AJ wondered briefly if Fluttershy had served her a cup of warm mouthwash.
“H-how is it? I, um, had some herbs growing in my garden, so I've been experimenting with different recipes...” Fluttershy piped up, as AJ foolishly tried to swig from fine china and ended up getting a whole mouthful of scalding brew.
“Aw, sugarcube. It don't taste of nothing at all, leastways not that Ah can see. Ah think it might be a little delicate for an unrefined pony like m'self,” Applejack told her, although she wasn't sure if the lack of taste was down to delicate flavours or the fact that all her taste buds had just been scorched off. “Anyhow, much as Ah appreciate the drink, this ain't entirely a social call. We need to talk about Rarity.”
“Oh, dear. You two aren't arguing again, are you?” Fluttershy moaned, genuinely concerned as ever. “You should really invite her to a picnic to say sorry. She loves your apple pies, you know. She just doesn't want to buy them from you, because she thinks everypony will get the wrong idea.”
AJ frowned. The way Fluttershy said 'the wrong idea' made it seem like there was a right idea everypony should be getting instead. “No, sugarcube, we weren't fightin'. We were just sat down yesterday having some lunch and some talk, and Rarity said somethin' which ah think is sure-fire trouble for all involved, and then we had some, uh, spirited discussion about it.”
Fluttershy said nothing, but gave her a reproachful gaze. Applejack pulled down the brim of her hat.
“Come on, sugarcube. We've been through this b'fore. Ah'm Rarity's friend, and the way Ah see it, it ain't just mah right but mah responsibility to yell at her whenever she gets one of her crazy plans.”
Fluttershy continued to gaze, silently, at Applejack's quickly reddening cheeks. Applejack pulled her hat down straight over her eyes.
“Ah mean, it ain't like Ah enjoy it. Most of the time, anyhow.”
She could still sense Fluttershy's eyes on her, gazing right through an inch of tanned leather and straight into her very soul.
“It's good for her. Keeps her outta trouble. Y'all know as well as Ah do that a little tough love won't dent Rare's ego too much. Ah mean, maybe Ah coulda been a touch more polite about it, but she wouldn't have got the point,” Applejack carried on, her voice getting steadily quieter.
It may have been her imagination, but she felt that two particular spots on her hat were getting steadily hotter, as if smouldering under her friend's gaze. She got the sudden need to cool herself off somehow, and dully remembered that there was a birdbath outside that might work.
“Aw, hayseeds! Fine, Ah'll bake her a pie, but no picnic!” Applejack groaned, pulling her hat off her head and throwing it the floor. Fluttershy gave her a beatific smile, and pushed a plate of cake across the table to her.
“…Y'all went and got this while Ah had m'hat over mah eyes, didn't ya,” Applejack half-asked, half-stated, suddenly tired beyond all belief. She hadn't heard any hoofsteps or wingbeats, but then again, if quiet was what you were looking for, you could do worse than Fluttershy.
The pegasus nodded. “I, um, knew you'd agree eventually. After all, you and Rarity are best friends.”
Applejack snorted, and ate her cake in three bites. “Well, anyhow, Rare's got a Plan. That's a plan with a capital P, if y'all were wonderin'.”
“Oh, no. A-are you, um, sure, Applejack? C-capital P and everything?” Fluttershy squeaked, voice turned up at the end as if she hoped she had misheard.
“Y'all bet your bunny it's got a capital P, and it might well turn out to be a capital everythin'. She's gone plumb loco, Sugar cube.”
Fluttershy squeaked again. Angel, less than happy about being treated as a poker chip in the grand casino of life, leapt onto Fluttershy's head and began cussing the farmer out in rabbit, gesticulating for emphasis. Applejack was momentarily surprised at how many obscene implications you could make with two paws, a nose and some ears.
“U…um, what kind of plan is it?” Fluttershy asked at last, her voice climbing in pitch.
“A romantic plan,” Applejack began, watching carefully for any signs of Fluttershy toppling out of her seat. She'd been known to do the fainting goat trick when presented with bad news. “She's tryin' to sell Dash on the whole dating thing.”
Fluttershy blinked. Then she blinked again. Then, with the heartbroken expression of a pony experiencing crippling self-doubt about their intelligence, she blinked a third time.
“Well, um, that doesn't seem so bad,” she said at last, ears flat.
Applejack felt her jaw drop open in disbelief, and let it hang there.
“I mean,” Fluttershy murmured quickly, “I've been Dash's friend since we were fillies, and she's never really had a serious relationship, so, um, I think it might be good for her, maybe.”
Applejack took a very, very deep breath, and reminded herself who she was dealing with. Fluttershy, she rationalised, was just assuming that all would go well, that Rarity's plan wasn't as hare-brained as it probably was, that Rainbow Dash wouldn't be a terror and a villain under the influence of false love. She was just trying to see the best in her friends – and that was important for a pony like Fluttershy, because she had so precious few of them.
“Sugarcube, Ah hate to rain on your parade, but it ain't as simple as that. Rare's only doin' this because she thinks Dash has gone all love-struck on account of some book she read. Problem is, Dash ain't love struck, and if Rare manages to hook her into this plan she'll be gettin' pushed into something she don't actually want,” AJ explained heavily, putting her hat back on her head and tilting it over her eyes.
“Are you absolutely sure, Applejack?” Fluttershy asked. For just a fraction of a second, there was a hardness in her voice, steel beneath the silk. She was a pony who arranged choirs for songbirds and sewed quilts for the elderly, but she had faced down dragons and won.
“Y'all think Ah'd come and fuss at ya if Ah weren't?” Applejack asked wryly. “Maybe Ah'm kicking up a ruckus over nothin'. Sure hope so. But Ah'd feel a lot better about the whole thing if y'all went and had a word with Rare about it. You're just about the only one she listens to, 'Shy.”
“That's not true. She listens to you, too,” Fluttershy protested.
“Only so as she knows what to yell at me for.”
“Still, if you really annoyed her, she'd, um, probably just ignore you...” Fluttershy trailed off, her ears flattening. “W-well, I suppose I could have a chat to her about it the next time I see her.”
“Thanks, 'Shy. Shucks, Ah feel better already knowing y'all are on the case. Now, Ah should get goin'. Ah woke up early and finished all the regular farm chores, but there's a few fences that need paintin', and today looks to be a good day to get a start on 'em. Appreciate the tea and cake, by the way,” the farmer said, and stood up.
As she made her way down the garden path, Fluttershy waving from the doorstep, she felt a small twinge of guilt. Really, she should have told 'Shy that she was on Rarity's shortlist of romance possibilities, but with any luck the whole mess would be sorted out before it became an issue. After all, Fluttershy was the final authority when it came to this kind of thing; if she said stop, you stopped. No questions asked.
“Oh, my. That was interesting, wasn't it, Angel?” Fluttershy murmured as she watched the farmer walking away. “I can't imagine what kind of pony Rainbow Dash would fall in love with, can you?”
Angel twitched his whiskers in reply, and looked on smugly as Applejack, a mere orange dot in the distance, put her hoof in something squelchy.
“Somepony we know? I'm not sure... After all, Dash can be a lot of trouble, sometimes... She'd need somepony really kind, and really patient. I don't think we know anypony like that.”
Angel twitched his whiskers, and gave her a very light kick on the back of the head.
“Angel, don't be so rude. I am not an idiot,” Fluttershy pouted. “Now you apologise, or a certain bunny is going to be getting an extra bath tonight.”
Angel didn't reply. He actually quite enjoyed baths, although he made every effort to pretend to detest them. It just made his life a thousand times simpler, and kept his owner (or, as he preferred to think, landlady) happy to boot. Ponies, he thought, were such very simple creatures. One of these days, he'd have to talk some sense into them.
With one last, careful glance, Twilight Sparkle realised that she was done. With utmost care, she lowered Princess Celestia to the ground, and stretched. Across the table, Pinkie Pie grinned, a miniature black army of Canterlot's finest at her side.
“I surrender. Good game, Pinkie,” Twilight yawned.
Of course, the nitpicky part of her brain interrupted, that was slightly redundant. After all, every game with Pinkie was a good game. She was, after all, the best party pony in all Ponyville, and was an expert at any board game you cared to mention – chess included, as Twilight had found out. Privately, she found Pinkie's talent fascinating, especially the way she seemed to adjust her skill level to suit whoever she was playing. In a match against Rainbow Dash, who enjoyed winning and didn't have the patience for any board game that wasn't tiddlywinks, she'd make strategic blunder after strategic blunder, and ended up losing nine times out of ten. Put her up against, say, Applejack, who enjoyed a good old-fashioned competition, she'd play simply but effectively, and end up winning about half the time. When she played against Twilight, however, all bets were off; her defence became near-impregnable, her assaults perfectly timed, and it was often all Twilight could do to eke out a draw.
“You almost had me on turn 32. I thought Shining Armor was just going to jump behind my guards and kapowie my Luna! That would have been super, duper bad. By the way, how do you like the Commemorative Royal Canterlot set we got? Ooh, ooh, wait! I meant to ask you about that! I heard this rumour that you–”
“Ssh! I don't want that getting spread around,” Twilight interrupted. “But, yes.”
“Wowee! Really? But… how come you didn't do it?” the baker asked, eyes wide.
Twilight sighed. It was a long story. She'd been contacted by one of the palace artists, asking her if she'd agree to model for one of the pieces – the left-hoof bishop, actually, seated quietly at Celestia's side. Luna was the other grand royal piece, whilst Cadence had been cast beside her as the right-hoof bishop, with Shining Armor as her attendant knight.
“It just didn't feel right. They were trying to make me look more important than I really am. I'm just the Princess' student, not a member of the Royal Court,” Twilight said, using her magic to pick up the vizier who'd replaced her. “Besides, it wouldn't be fair for just me to get a piece. I wouldn't want to be a piece on a board that didn't have my friends on it.”
“Ooh, you should have told them that! We could all have been pawns! Spike could be the seventh one, and then the eighth could be a ginormous totem pole of all our pets! That would have been fantastic!” Pinkie shouted.
“I don't think Fluttershy would ever agree to that. It's a nice idea, though,” the unicorn said, a touch wistfully. Pinkie looked at her, the corners of her mouth dropping a little.
“Hey, Twilight? You wanna play Old Mare instead?” Pinkie asked, her voice softer than before.
“Oh? Yes, of course. You fetch the cards, and I'll shuffle them.”
Pinkie dashed off so fast her outline seemed to hover in the air for a second after she'd gone, before rushing to join her. Twilight sighed, and began to pack the chessboard away. As she did so, her mind began to relax after the hard-fought game; the sights, sounds and, most of all, the smells of Sugarcube Corner drifted back into focus. She began to feel pangs of hunger settle in her stomach. One did not simply become the student of Princess Celestia without acquiring a certain taste for cakes and pastries. Still, the gentle murmur of the crowd told her Pinkie would be back long before the queue for service dissolved.
She was still packing away the chess pieces (occasionally examining one more closely, appraising them for accuracy and wondering what she would have looked like carved in ivory wood) when there came the rattle of a plate being put on the table. She looked up and saw Mr Cake, carrying plates to the eat-in customers.
“I'm sorry, but I didn't pay for-” Twilight began, but he shook his head.
“Don't be silly! That's just a little thank-you for keeping Pinkie occupied. She was up all night last night, and we had her foal-sitting the night before. We told her she didn't have to work today, but bless her, she insisted. Still, she's too tired to be let near an oven – she gets more inventive when she's tired, and we've still got a shipment of zap apple jam lying around that she could cause havoc with,” he said with an exhausted smile.
“I see. Well, if that's the case, I'll probably take her off your hooves when we're done playing cards. Is that okay?”
He nodded, and wobbled off to deliver his goods. A little guiltily, Twilight began to eat the slice of cake he'd given her, and had just finished the last bite when Pinkie barrelled back into the room.
“They were in the trombone,” she explained, slamming a worn deck down on the table. Then she sat down, her gaze fixed on the deck as if it might jump to life at any time. Twilight smiled.
Card games were, traditionally, a unicorn pastime, for no other reason than that earth ponies and pegasi found it hard to shuffle a deck. There were a few who could do it, but it was a rare trick that took plenty of practice, and most simply chose to play games that were more hoof-friendly. Even for a lot of unicorns it took a fair amount of time to magically move the cards around.
Twilight, on the other hoof, had grown up with playing cards. An early exercise she'd been set by Princess Celestia had been to rearrange the cards individually, or, in other words, to finely control fifty-two separate objects at once. She'd spent many afternoons watching playing cards hover tantalising above her head (and, occasionally, falling). There was a certain comfort in the old familiar magic. Pinkie watched with barely disguised delight as the deck separated, exploded outwards into its individual cards, whizzed around momentarily like electrons around an atom, and then smoothly reformed.
“Wowee, Twilight. I wish I could do that! It's such a neat trick, how they go all whoosh and then fwoom fwoom fwoom and then slapaslap back together like that!” Pinkie enthused. “All I can do is a riffle shuffle.”
Twilight gave a wan smile at the 'all', and began to deal. Pinkie snatched up her cards one by one as they were dealt, and immediately began rearranging them into an order that would have made no sense to anypony but her. Each time she drew her tail would twitch, although never in a way that gave away what she'd gotten; she kept up a continuous stream of chatter about birds, clouds, yo-yos, circus clowns, deep sea jellyfish, whatever came to her mind next.
“Oh, Pinkie?” Twilight asked, lulled into a sense of relaxation by the waves of sound washing over her. “I almost forgot. I need to tell you something.”
“Ooh! Is it good news? I hope it's good news. Good news is the best news, except when there's even better news. But that goes without saying!”
“Well, it's kind of good news. Princess Celestia says we can use some of the halls in Canterlot Castle for the costume party you and Rarity were planning.”
Pinkie suddenly became very still. Quite suddenly, Twilight began to think she had made a sizeable mistake. Her suspicions were confirmed when Pinkie began to tremble. Without a moment's delay, the unicorn lunged across the table and tapped her friend on the nose.
“Honk!” she said, and breathed a sigh of relief. One of the other customers tittered.
“Twilight? That only works in the library,” Pinkie said quietly. “You're not being fair.”
The librarian groaned. She was right, of course. It wasn't fair to play the Pinkie-Shut-Up card outside the library, just as it wasn't fair to play the get-out-of-jail free card outside of Monopony.
“Do I at least get earplugs first?” she asked.
Pinkie dutifully placed a pair on the table, having pulled them seemingly from thin air. Twilight put aside the fact that she didn't know where they'd been and put them in her ears. Pinkie took a deep breath, and the unicorn prepared herself for the worst.
“...That's pretty awesome, Twilight. Hey, you wanna help me deliver the invitations?” Pinkie asked, at an annoyingly demure volume. Twilight frowned and pulled out her earplugs.
“I was actually going to ask you if you wanted any help with that myself.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Warm up your singing voice, because we've got some invites to give!” the earth pony shrieked, and without further ado shot out of the bakery.
Twilight waited until her ears had stopped ringing, and followed at a leisurely pace; soon enough, Pinkie doubled back and began to bounce in circles around her, chattering all the while about who they should track down first. Despite herself, Twilight smiled. She knew worse ways of spending her morning.
Pony society had always maintained certain rules in regards to the creation of top hats. As an article of clothing, they had always inspired a certain mystique that led itself to the creation of lores, rituals and half-baked prophecies; they had thus accumulated more than a few rules about their possession. Like the majority of rules dredged from the legends of old, most of them made sense at the time, but had since fallen into absurdity. It was still illegal to engineer a top hat to contain any kind of cannon. Likewise, it was prohibited to fill a top hat with pudding and attempt to float it under a bridge (mostly because the laws of physics said no, but also for fear of attracting hungry nixies with an eye for fashion). Despite this, the rule that a top hat should not be equal to or greater than the height of the wearer was, as of yet, a mere gentlecolt's agreement.
Spike was not a gentlecolt.
He did, however, have a new moustache – one of such fierce volume and unabashed masculinity that it nearly caused widespread fainting as he made his way through the streets of Canterlot towards the castle. He carried a cane, ostensibly to compliment his stylish new tuxedo, but which he found more useful for bopping ponies lightly upon the head. He had even, through strange and mysterious channels, acquired a monocle. It was safe to say, therefore, that Spike was down to party; that he was, in fact, eager to strut his stuff and boogie down to any phat beats that he might happen across.
Three hours earlier, the picture had been a little different. After days of scouring costume shops for easy outs, Spike had come to the conclusion that most ponies made costumes for ponies, and if you were going to wear them, it helped if you were a quadruped. Spike was not a quadruped, and he was also not very good at making costumes; alone, his greatest effort was a collection of pans tied to his body with string and prefaced with a declaration that he was a knight in shining kitchenware.
Luckily, he shared a house with Twilight Sparkle, who, when she wasn't using her considerable magical power to travel through time or transcend huge distances with a pop and some fire, was more than willing to use it for the purposes of light entertainment – for a price.
“Okay, Spike,” she'd said upon hearing his plight. “I can magic you up a costume for the night. But you have to do something for me. Just one teensy, weensy little thing.”
Spike had frowned. Usually, tasks preceded by the words teensy and weensy turned out to be death-defying stunts involving ridiculous amounts of derring-do and heroism. Nopony ever used teensy or weensy to describe a thing you'd actually want to do.
“All I want you to do is show up at the party half an hour early, and make sure everything's going okay. That's all. You just have to keep an eye on things until everypony's there,” Twilight had explained. “I'm going to be a little late since I need to prep my costume, so I need somepony reliable. Who better to ask than my number one assistant?”
Spike had frowned even more deeply. By his reasoning, if she was appealing to his pride as her assistant, then she really wanted his help. Which meant she was almost certain something would go wrong.
“What kind of costume are we talking about here?” he'd asked.
“Oh, I don't know. Something fancy,” Twilight had said. “I'll make whatever you like.”
At that point, alarm bells had begun ringing in Spike's head. Twilight did not write blank cheques if she could avoid it. He sensed danger in the immediate future – too much danger to risk for a silly costume. But then again, he was her number one assistant, and if she needed his help that badly…
“Throw in a moustache, and we've got a deal,” he'd said, against his better judgement.
Which was how he came to be the best-dressed dragon in Equestria, forging his way through Canterlot with such undeniable swagger that a passing street musician armed with a saxophone began following him, supplying a funky beat to accompany his journey.
“That was the best. Thing. Ever,” she remarked when they finally reached the castle. “I always wanted to do that. I gotta get back to my bandmates, though. The boss is in a bad mood today, and I was only meant to be getting my sax looked over by the pony who made it.”
“It was pretty rad,” Spike agreed, twitching his moustache. “Hey, what's your name? I'll tell my friends about your band.”
“Name's Brass Horn. We haven't really settled on a group name yet. But thanks anyway, little guy. Gotta go.”
He waved goodbye as she left, before self-consciously adjusting his hat and entering the castle. After a little light-hearted banter with the guards (who distinctly did not remember his moustache and were much amused by it) he made his way to the main hall, knowing the way by habit alone. He nodded to the suits of armor as he passed them, saluting the place he had spent his childhood.
When he finally reached the main hall, he was momentarily blindsided by what he found there. What he found was a feather boa that seemed to take up half the room. What he found was a hat that dwarfed even his own. What he found was a pony wearing a showgirl skirt, lacy stockings and a domino mask. In the second or so he took to process the sight, she bounded up to him and gathered him up in a huge hug.
“H-hey, Pinkie,” he gasped. She smelt faintly of talcum powder and bubble gum.
“Hey Spike! I love your costume, it's fantabulariffic! You wanna swap hats? Ooh, wait, you gotta try the punch. What a cool moustache! Hey, do you think moose get moustaches? Is moose the correct plural for moose? It sounds weird. Maybe it's moosen. Aren't you excited? I'm excited!” she said, at her traditional five hundred miles an hour.
“In order: nope, sure, I know right?, maybe, I think it actually is moose, it does sound pretty weird, yes, and I never would have guessed,” Spike recited, counting on his claws. “Are all the party preparations going okay?”
Pinkie merely waved her forelegs at the ceiling; streamers had been hung from it so densely that it seemed more like a canopy of multicoloured jungle vines. Somehow, though, it never quite got to the stage where it was unappealing; it was over the top, but always in the lovably goofy way.
“Cool. That means I did my job for the evening,” he shrugged, now happy in the knowledge that he had earned his facial hair. “You okay if I go and visit the kitchen? I know the chef, and he makes the best upside down ice cream cakes in all the world.”
“I like upside down ice cream cakes,” Pinkie said, her tail twitching under the showgirl skirt. “Do you think there'll be enough for two?”
Spike grinned. “Considering we're basically going to go raid Princess Celestia's icebox? I think there'll be more than enough.”
With that, he led the way to the kitchen, cane swinging and monocle gleaming, with Pinkie bouncing along in his wake. Their party was technically a birthday party, Pinkie explained, and what was a birthday party without cake? In fact, what was any party without cake? It was a philosophical question that echoed deep within the boundaries of Spike's noble soul, and he voiced his agreement whole heartedly. Without cake, the two decided, the party was a lie.
Back in the main hall, Princess Celestia stepped out from the passage where she had overheard their conversation, and smiled regally. Perhaps another ruler would have stopped them from raiding the Royal Larder, but she encouraged the pursuit of cake wherever it occurred. With a show of grace and dignity lesser ponies could only dream of, she drank a glass of Pinkie's punch. Somehow, she thought, it seemed as though it was missing something. But she couldn't decide what.
The rules of hats may have been a matter of tradition, but the rules of Plans were vast, cosmic and immutable. You could not, for example, explain a Plan before you had put it into action, or it would fail. The first step of a Plan could never be stopped, and therefore all Plans consisting of exactly one stage would succeed. If you had captured an arch-nemesis and had them strapped to a table, a failure to detail your plan would result in seven years' bad luck, and so on.
Rarity had analysed the rules of Plans. She had charted them in novels and in experience, mapped them out on graphs and pondered them in the night. As a meticulous, organised pony, it was only natural. Through all her research, she had come to one, unshakeable conclusion:
All the best Plans involved cross-dressing.
Furthermore, the more recursive the cross-dressing, the greater the chance of success for the plan. A mare dressing as a stallion enjoyed a fair rate of success, but a mare dressing as a stallion who was dressing as a mare was almost unstoppable. Such was the wisdom of the playwrights of yore. Which was why, on a fairly brisk and chilly Canterlot evening, Rarity was a mare who was pretending to be a stallion who was actually a mare who was disguised as a stallion. It was that kind of Plan.
Rarity had taken great care over her costume choice. Her main goal was that she would not be recognised as herself, and the safest way to ensure that, she had reasoned, was to come in as ridiculous a costume as possible. Nopony would expect her to willingly commit a fashion faux pas. In addition, she had been sure to get a store-bought costume. There was a chance that somepony like Fluttershy could pick out her stitching idiosyncrasies if she'd made it herself. In all ways, she had thought this through.
What she had done was simple. She had gone out to the local sports retailer and purchased a stallion's leotard (helpfully fitted with a cup to protect 'sensitive areas', as the shopkeeper cheerfully informed her), before immediately going home and tie-dying it. She had then attacked it with rhinestones, stitched on lightning bolts and go-faster stripes, done her level best to make it as gaudy and ridiculous as possible. She'd bought a pair of ridiculously huge sunglasses and replaced the lenses, one green and one blue. She'd purchased a huge sombrero, in which she hid her glorious mane. When she put it all together, the result was spectacular. It was perfect.
That did not, of course, mean she had to like it. The leotard was far too tight on her, a far cry from the billowing roominess of a good old dress. The cup, which was necessary to suggest she did indeed have the requisite parts to protect, rubbed annoyingly against her hind legs. The affront against fashion that she was committing burned in the very depths of her soul. But, with steely determination, she put up with it – all for the sake of promoting true love.
Of course, she drew some strange looks at the door. Mostly from the guards. And everypony else. It was probably the sombrero. Sombreros, she thought, were a very stately and dramatic style of hat, well suited to attract the eye. They were also quite itchy. She almost lost hers when she went through a doorway that was a touch too narrow, but it was fine. Nothing suggested that anypony had identified her yet.
When she entered the main hall (ignoring any and all flabbergasted expressions), she began to mingle. Or, rather, circulate. One of the great advantages of a sombrero was that it established a circular radius of personal space equal to the size of the brim, and the brim of Rarity's sombrero was very wide indeed. Unfortunately, this made it hard to speak to anypony without shouting, and even when she tried, she found they were generally too speechless at her attire to form coherent replies. Still, she was technically the co-hostess of the party, and it would simply be a breach of duty not to go ahead and see how everypony was doing.
Once she had made a full circuit of the room, she settled down to her objective; slowly, carefully, she began to rake her eyes across the masked faces, looking for a Mare Do Well. This was the most important part of the plan – to find and approach Rainbow Dash. For a second, she wondered if her colourful choice of apparel might make Dash think her too weird to talk to, but it was a worry quickly swept aside; after all, they both interacted with Pinkie on a regular basis. After that, nopony was too weird to talk to.
Eventually, after a few minutes of studied observation, she caught a glimpse of that oh-so-familiar purple mask slipping in and out of the crowd. With careful deliberation, she set off in pursuit – not so fast as to attract attention (well, more attention), but not so slow as to lose sight of her quarry. She made it look as natural as possible, even stopping once or twice to give a friendly nod to the braver gawkers, picking up a glass of punch as a prop. A lifetime of aspiration had taught her the proper way to approach somepony at a party without being too forward.
She did get the feeling, however, that Rainbow Dash was trying to evade her. Each time she got near, her target would suddenly feel the desire for punch or snacks or something else, always conveniently located at the opposite side of the room. But then, Rarity thought, Twilight had hinted that the pegasus was going to try to set up a prank; she was probably just trying to do it whilst nopony was looking.
In the end, though, Rarity would not be denied. Working slowly and tactically, she began to herd her quarry towards a corner, one flanked by a large crowd of dancers. It would be near impossible to move through them without crashing into one or two and drawing unwanted attention. With her unwitting conspirators guarding one direction, she approached from the other, walking towards her victim with the slow, inevitable pace of the executioner.
“Why, hello there!” she greeted, as the Mare Do Well cast her eyes around for an escape and found herself without one. “My name is...”
She fell silent for a second, realising that she hadn't actually thought of an alias. “Elusive,” she invented wildly. “Yes, that's my name. You must the famous Rainbow Dash that I've heard so much about. Such an athletic grace simply can't be hidden by a costume.”
“Um, no, you see, I'm-”
“Mare Do Well, of course,” Rarity winked. “Don't worry, I won't keep you long. Aren't you going to say hello?”
To her great surprise, Rainbow Dash began to look around in what she would almost call a shifty manner. It seemed like she'd caught her right in the middle of a prank after all.
“H-hello. That's, um, a nice h-hat,” the pegasus replied. Rarity frowned. Was that a stutter she heard? She couldn't tell. The mask muffled the voice. Then again, it might just be that Dash was giving her a backhoofed compliment, and was trying to suppress her laughter at the outfit. That seemed like something Dash would do.
“It is, isn't it? Yours is very nice, too. Very stylish,” Rarity continued, fighting her urge to say the word debonair. That would have her rumbled for sure. “But then, there are quite a number of well-dressed ponies here tonight. Don't you agree?”
Rainbow Dash gave an awkward cough, and visibly avoided looking at Rarity's costume. Rarity decided to apply a little more pressure; after all, the costume gave her carte blanche for personal interactions. It wouldn't reflect badly on her after this evening.
“In fact, the stallions here are very good looking – even under all those costumes, wouldn't you say?” she asked.
“Um...Yes?” Dash replied hopefully, plainly wishing for the conversation to be at an end so she could carry on with whatever scheme she was planning.
However, the lack of substantive response gave an answer to the first of Rarity's many questions – that of gender preference. Although rumours were certainly abroad that Dash favoured the fairer sex, she'd never really said so herself, and it would be folly to assume based only on hearsay. It was plain, however, that Dash hadn't even bothered to look at the stallions at the party – which meant that her interests, if any, probably lay elsewhere. With satisfaction, Rarity filed the information away in her head, and went on to question two.
“That's not a very strong answer. I take it none of them are your type? Let me guess. You're into independent ponies with a stubborn streak. Or, wait; perhaps you'd prefer an energetic pony who's the life and soul of the party? Or maybe you just want a quiet, kind, gentle soul to come home to after a hard day's work. Am I correct?”
“A-actually, I, um, already have a mare I like,” the pegasus replied quietly.
Immediately, Rarity knew it was a lie. There was a certain nervousness in the tone of voice. Still, this could be profitable.
Aha! I knew it. There IS something going on between her and Applejack, Rarity thought. “Go on.”
“Well, um, she's going to try out for a flying team. I'm sure she'll make it. She's very good,” Dash mumbled.
Rarity fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course. Ask Rainbow Dash who she liked, and the answer was herself. Wonderful. It seemed like she was going to have her work cut out for her if she wanted to lead this mare to true love.
“Well, I won't pry any more. Good luck with her, and enjoy the party. I may speak to you later, if I see you again. It's been a pleasure,” Rarity said, hiding the note of dejection in her voice. This never happened in the novels. She began to trot away. As she did, she was too distracted by her own thoughts to hear Rainbow Dash make a pronounced squeak.
Sergeant Pinkamena Diane Pie was on a mission. That mission was to track down the immortal Princess of the Night and deliver unto her a hug that would make her implode with joy. Her previous mission, securing and devouring every single piece of upside down ice cream cake in the castle, had gone incredibly well. Now, fully concentrated on the task at hoof, she decided to show off her military credentials by travelling exclusively via emergency combat roll.
The newly drafted Lieutenant JG Spike was in a rather less energetic mood, having contracted the dreaded 'brain freeze' disease during his brief insertion into kitchen territory. Unable to procure medical supplies on-site, Spike was now feeling the full effects of the malady, made more annoying by the fact that he was a dragon and therefore used to a much higher internal temperature. To make matters worse, he had sneezed and set fire to his precious moustache; in mere seconds, it had burnt to a crisp, leaving only his monocle. What kind of dragon, he lamented, wore a monocle without a moustache? Still, ever the professional soldier, he plodded along after his comrade, assuring civilians that the whirling ball of pink and showgirl skirts was nothing to be afraid of.
Upon reaching the corridor that led to the main hall, Pinkie abruptly stopped rolling, stood up, and retrieved her hat from inside a nearby suit of armour. Spike had been fairly sure she'd put it in the one at the other end of the corridor, but decided not to question it.
“Okay, we're in position,” she hissed. “You remember the signal? Well, give it to me.”
“You're the superior officer, why don't you do it?” Spike asked.
“I can't. Hooves,” she said, clopping her own.
“Oh, yeah. You need claws to do the signal,” Spike said, and repeated the routine of claw wiggling that Pinkie had taught him at the other end of the corridor. “But wait, why do you even need a signal? You just said we were in position, so it's not like you didn't know-”
He was too late, since Pinkie had already bounded into the main hall and shouted, at the very tippy tops of her lungs, “Freeze! Nopony move, or the mare gets it!”
Everypony in the main hall abruptly froze, looking for the mare who was supposed to be 'getting it'. Conveniently, she didn't exist, and the confusion caused by that fact gave Sergeant Pie enough time to combat roll across the room and accost a hapless party-goer.
“Hi. My name's Pinkie. It's really nice to meet you. Say, do you know where Luna is? I've been looking for her everywhere. She needs a hug,” she explained politely.
“Are you insane?” the party-goer asked, sheer befuddlement visible even on their masked face.
“Wow, philosophy! Well, it depends on whether insanity really exists or is just a label applied to us by society! Y'see, my friend Twilight says-”
“She's with me,” Spike interjected. “Uh, Sarge? Luna's at the other end of the hall, near the punch bowl.”
“Good reconnaissance, soldier! But how did you find out?” she asked.
“Well, she's like, twice as tall as everypony else? Also she's the one wearing the incredibly realistic Nightmare Moon costume.”
Pinkie nodded, before hurling herself into another combat roll and spinning her way to the other side of the room. Spike walked. When he arrived, Pinkie was already staring down the Princess, who, despite her size advantage, looked concerned.
Time, it has been remarked, is truly the rudest of dimensions. It waits for nopony, flies in no-flying zones and would probably be liable for a speeding ticket if anypony could catch it. Knowing this, one can probably guess that time did not stand still for Pinkie and Luna's epic showdown; there was no slow motion, no blur of flying hoofs. In fact, the whole encounter was over in the time it took for somepony on the other side of the room to dip their head into the punch bowl and take an uncomfortably loud slurp. Pinkie feinted to the left before diving straight ahead; Luna tried to go right but simply wasn't quick enough.
“Hello, Princess Luna! I'm giving you your super-special surprise birthday hug!” the pink mare said happily, dangling from the Princess' neck.
“Art thou – no, of course thou art serious. Well met, Pinkamena Pie,” Luna said, recovering bravely from the surprise.
“Wow, Princess Luna! You're really doing well on the whole volume thing. Even I have trouble with that sometimes. Are you enjoying the party? I wanted it to be super awesome, but Twilight said I couldn't have any cannons or elephants or marching bands or any of the good stuff. So we just had to go with regular awesome instead.”
“I wonder why,” Luna remarked dryly. “The current levels of fun are quite acceptable. You have my gratitude for all your hard work setting up the event.”
“But...but...Don't you wanna...you know? Increase the fun by a certain amount?” Pinkie asked, eyes round and tearful.
Luna furrowed her brow. “Whatever could you mean?”
“Oh, she just wants you to say that the fun needs to be mphfh,” Spike began, his voice suddenly muffled as Pinkie dropped off Luna's neck and clamped her hoof to his mouth.
“It doesn't count unless she says it by herself! Ssssh. I know what the audience wants,” she hissed.
“...Ahem. Well, regardless, I am enjoying myself quite thoroughly,” Luna said with a regal smile, before adding, as a curiously deliberate afterthought: “By the by, I have heard tell that some form of jape or prank has been planned to occur tonight. I don't suppose you would know anything about it?”
Pinkie flopped one ear down. “Huh? There are japes going on and I wasn't told?”
A soft, relaxed giggle came from behind Luna's shoulder. “If there are any pranks going on tonight, I should be most surprised if my dear sister didn't have a hoof in them herself.”
Luna wheeled around to find herself face to face with Princess Celestia, who wore a helmet much like those of her royal guardsponies for a mask. As always, she seemed to exude calmness.
“Ah, Prin – I mean, dearest sister. I was not aware you were standing behind me,” the Princess of the Night said, somewhat taken aback.
“Really? She's not very hard to notice. She's pretty big,” Pinkie pointed out.
“Good evening, Pinkie. And you, too, Spike. I see you're keeping things eventful as usual,” Celestia smiled. Pinkie and Spike looked at each other, thought about how they'd just eaten everything in Princess Celestia's icebox, and agreed that, yes, the night had been pretty eventful.
“Ahaha. Forgive me for being so surprised, sister. I had thought you were unable to attend…” Luna trailed off.
“I was, but certain circumstances meant my schedule was cleared,” Celestia explained, before looking meaningfully at the punch bowl. “Hm. We appear to be running somewhat low. Spike, Pinkie, could I trouble you to run to the kitchen and check if we have enough in stock? Feel free to help yourself to anything you might fancy whilst you're there.”
“Sounds good to me! Come on, Lieutenant. We've got a mission to fulfil!” Pinkie said, realising she was being given an out for having eaten all the cake without asking. “Come on, let's see your best combat roll.”
“Sorry, Sarge. Can't. I'd gouge holes in the floor, on account of the obvious,” the dragon said, pointing at his namesakes.
“Ugh! This is why we wear helmets, soldier. I guess we'll have to march.”
“They are so very lively, aren't they? It's quite charming,” Celestia remarked as they left. “Are you enjoying the party thus far?”
“I-indeed. Very merry,” Luna replied, a hint of discomfort in her voice; the feeling never quite reached her face, however.
“I was expecting something more, if I'm quite honest. My favourite student was under the impression that something extraordinary was going to happen. Still, I suppose there's still time.”
“But, sister, what if it turns out to be something bad?”
“Well, it probably wouldn't be anything we would have difficulty in handling. We are magicians of some moderate talent. After all, art thou not-” Celestia replied, before stopping sharply.
Luna narrowed her eyes, then widened them in shock as her mouth dropped open in an expression that was quite unlike her. She closed it, and, lowering her voice to a whisper, asked: “'Art thou'? P-princess Luna? Is that you?”
“Drat. I was having such fun, too,” the other princess said; for just a moment, her illusion spell flickered, revealing the Princess of the Night underneath. “And after I went to all the trouble of getting my sister's permission to copy her. Although I see that I am not the only one who wore somepony else's face tonight. Well met, Twilight Sparkle.”
A crack appeared on the other Luna's face, spreading quickly across her body until, like a pane of glass, it shattered, revealing a purple unicorn wearing a look of absolute panic. “Um, I can explain.”
“Explain what?” Luna asked, using her real voice now. “It was a fine trick, and I applaud the audacity. In addition, it was quite amusing to see you so flustered by my appearance.”
“Then you don't mind?” Twilight asked.
“Think not of it. Although,” she continued mischievously, “I shall hold you to account for the embrace you purloined. Stealing the love of my subjects from beneath my very nose is not something I smile upon.”
Twilight opened her mouth, stammered, closed it, and opened it again.
“Fear not, Twilight Sparkle; I am, as the saying goes, messing with you. I must say, though, that your Royal Canterlot Voice could use a little work. It simply isn't the same without the volume.”
“Um, Princess? Can I just, um, talk to you about something very quickly? Do you remember a pony called Rainbow Dash?”
Luna furrowed her brow. “Hm. A pegasus? Quite colourful?”
“You shocked her with lightning once?” Twilight added hopefully.
Luna paused. “Properly or in jest?”
“Wait, you actually shock-”
“Ahaha. Once more, I am messing with you. I do recall the pony you speak of.”
“Well, um, she wants to get you back. I'm pretty sure she's planning to play a trick on you,” Twilight frowned, one ear flat.
“Oh,” Luna said, “very good. I shall look forward to it.”
Twilight tried very hard not to throw a funny look at the Princess, but evidently not hard enough.
“Very few are the ponies brave enough to attempt to play practical jokes on a member of the royal family. I miss it somewhat, so please, don't do too much to dissuade the attempt,” Luna explained. “Now, your friends will be getting back quite soon, I imagine, so pray resume thy disguise. Do talk to me later, though; I wish to have a word with you privately about some mailing arrangements.”
Frowning, Twilight obeyed; like pieces of stained glass, the image of Luna began to rebuild itself around her, until finally the whole structure settled into a convincing illusion. She shook herself, getting used to projecting the appearance of walking with much longer legs again; she had only just finished when Pinkie and Spike came barrelling back across the main hall towards them.
“There's plenty of mix, but none made up. Also, we ate some cake. A lot of cake. And some ice cream. We might've smooshed a watermelon by accident,” Pinkie gasped as she arrived.
“Very well. Thank you both. I shall go and see to it that some is made,” Luna said, in Celestia's flowing tones.
“Are you sure, s-sister? The kitchen staff will no doubt-” Twilight began.
“-enjoy the brief respite. Worry not, sister. This is a party in your honour, and I shall see to it that all goes well. You would do the same for me,” Luna said, and for a moment, an ominous grin settled on her face.
“Ah...Well. I'm sorry, Spike and Pinkie, but I too must go. I have something to check on in the library. I'll be back momentarily,” Twilight said as Luna left, her voice still a few shades short of where it ought to be. She fought the urge to teleport as she walked away.
When all had fallen still, and Pinkie and Spike had launched themselves off on another grand adventure, there was a stirring underneath the tablecloth. With practised subtlety, Rainbow 'Danger' Dash peeked out, appraising the situation on the dance floor. Rule one of hiding from somepony: hide under their nose. Well, preferably not right under their nose, since that was pretty dumb, but somewhere in and around the vicinity of their nose. It was a strategy that had served her passably in the past, and it had done so again tonight. Besides, she was pretending to be Fluttershy at a crowded party. Where else would she be but hiding under a table?
“So, Luna is Twilight, and Celestia is Luna. Sweet. Now I know who to aim for,” she muttered to herself, retreating back underneath the table. “Pinkie and Spike are accounted for, AJ doesn't matter… Yeah, I think it's time for phase two.” With no small amount of undignified wriggling, she began to move. After all, she thought, they all had a part to play in making sure the party was a memorable occasion. She just had to give Luna something to look forward to.
Last time, on Fear Of The Fall: I ended the chapter halfway through a party, confident that the next chapter wouldn't take too long. That sure worked out.
Commander Cirrustrade Stormfield Rolofolos Ice-Cream-By-The-Riverhouse-On-A-Summer's-Day Spitbreak did not have much in the world, save for a belief that long names brought good luck. But one of the few things he did have was the responsibility of being Princess Luna's personal attendant, and for this, he was to be pitied. Whilst Her Highness did not go out of her way to make his job harder (for indeed, she very much enjoyed calling him by his full name in public and observing the confused glances), she had a predilection for disappearing, which made it difficult to attend her.
However, Commander Cirrustrade was an upstanding member of the Royal Guard, ever brave and faithful, and took his employer's disappearances as opportunities for personal improvement. Over his brief tenure of the post, he had created and employed many new Princess Retrieval Stratagems including such covert manoeuvres as 'Shouting', 'Sneaking Up On a Member of Royal Personage Whilst They are Unawares', and 'the Detainment and Interrogation of Passing Civilians, Regarding Such Matters as the Current Location of the Princess.' He had also developed a habit of using capital letters willy-nilly in personal correspondence, a second point of amusement for the erstwhile Luna.
Now, he began to use his entire arsenal of tactics to find her, sweeping through the hallways of the castle like a housebroken hurricane, his pride as a retainer spurring him on to ever-greater heights of detective prowess. Fortunately, he ran into her completely by accident as she strode towards the library.
“Your Highness!” he shouted, when she failed to acknowledge him.
Twilight Sparkle blinked, before remembering that she was still in disguise as Luna. “Oh, right. Yes. That is I. And... Forgive me, but who art thou?”
“Commander Cirrustrade Stormfield Rolofolos Ice-Cream-By-The-Riverhouse-On-A-Summer's-Day Spitbreak, your faithful retainer,” he said through gritted teeth. Nevertheless, he was an upstanding pony and rolled all his r's, even the ones that shouldn't technically be pronounced (the third in a holy trifecta of reasons why Luna found him too entertaining to fire). Twilight blinked once more. Someone in the HR department had plainly had a little too much fun with the new staff appointments.
“I bear a message for you, Your Highness,” he announced after she tried and failed to say anything without laughing.
“R-really? Who from?”
“A mare wearing a mask and a hat.”
“Well, that narrows it down,” Twilight muttered, throwing a glance at the ongoing masked ball behind her. “Was she terrified, at all?”
“Quite terrified, and acting very suspiciously – hiding behind bookcases and such. Had she not approached me first, I would have taken her in for questioning.”
“Ah, that'll be Fluttershy. She's in the library, correct? I'll go there directly. Please go and enjoy the party, Commander – that's an order,” she said and carried on down the corridor, leaving the poor stallion quite confused.
Although the Doozy had been the foremost concern in Twilight's mind during the run-up to the party, Fluttershy had been a close second. Although the timid pegasus had wanted to go and enjoy the party with her friends, and had promised to be brave, that was a little bit like a polar bear promising to stay cool in Appleoosa. The fact of the matter was that they'd be putting Fluttershy in a room packed full of masked strangers, most of whom were expecting more social interaction than she could be counted on to provide.
In light of that, Twilight had taken a few precautions. She'd set up a comfortable, quiet space in the library that the pegasus could retreat to, and informed the guards of her right to remain there. She had even revealed her disguise, just so that 'Shy had at least one pony she could call if things went south. It seemed that those measures had been justified.
Still, it was difficult not to feel anxious as she moved closer to the library. Every moment she spent away from the party proper was a moment in which the Doozy might present itself. But ignoring Fluttershy just wasn't an option. She broadened her step and resolved to deal with it quickly, her mind wondering what disasters could be taking place in her absence.
It was not often that things went well for Spike. He was the universe's unpaid valet, the clown on the business end of the cosmic custard pie. If he dropped his toast, not only was it certain to land butter-side down, but it would do so on somepony's wedding dress. Misfortune followed him like a small, smelly dog, waiting ever-vigilantly for an opportunity to urinate in his moccasains.
Spike, however, took a philosophical angle on his awful luck. In some ways, he considered it to be a strange form of karma. After all, he had a loving family, entertaining friends, a steady job, free rent and breakfast, and sometimes his cereal contained two prizes instead of one. Naturally, Mare Misfortune had to dole out some punishment to balance all that. In Spike's humble opinion, she may as well take the chance while she had it, because in a couple hundred years he'd be the size of a small barn and there wouldn't be too much that could bother him.
All this meant that Spike appreciated the rare moments in his life when nothing was going wrong. The party had been one of those. He'd eaten roughly a billion scoops of ice cream and gotten away with it, he had a dapper suit, and even the punch was pretty good (although it tasted too much of loganberries). All was well in the life of Ponyville's premier dragon. The only thing left to do was sit at the sidelines, enjoy the ambiance, and watch Sergeant Pie do a vague approximation of dancing.
Predictably, it all came crashing down.
“Oh, my dear Spikey-Wikey! I'm so glad to see you, darling,” said a voice behind him. They always came from behind when they were about to ruin your day, he noticed. It was a bit like being in prison.
He turned around, and was faced with the herald of his misfortune: what appeared to be an ice-skating wild west bandit with 80's glasses and a sequin fetish. After a moment of pause, Spike decided that this was not as unusual as it probably should have been.
“It's me. Rarity,” the bandit prompted after another second had passed.
Spike nodded sagely, before looking at his glass of punch and deciding that he had either drunk too much, or not enough. Since it was far harder and messier to undrink punch, he poured himself another glass. Seeing his obvious lack of belief, his companion gave an irritated huff and removed their glasses, revealing a pair of eyes Spike could have picked out in any crowd.
“O-oh! It is actually you. Sorry, I just… Y'know, you're usually so well dressed, and I didn't think you'd be wearing…” he began, making vague gestures with his claws. His tongue, predictably, was now refusing to work.
Rarity snorted. “Yes, yes, I know. I have my reasons, and a pack of wild minotaurs would not be sufficient to make me divulge them. After all, what is a lady without an air of mystery? By the way, I do love your suit, Spike. Very refined, very dignified. You could use a cummerbund, and the shoulders would look far better with a taper, but you wear it well, darling.”
“Well, uh, it's not actually real. I mean, the hat's real, but the rest of the suit is just an illusion spell attached to the hat, and it'll wear off in about twelve hours, so, um, yeah,” the dragon replied, fighting not to blush at the compliment. Red wasn't too fetching if your complexion was purple.
“Oh, even better! In that case, I shall make you a suit myself. It should be a valuable learning experience in designing non-equine fashion. Although, I probably shan't get around to it for a while, yet. You see, I made the mistake – although I shouldn't really call it that – of inviting some of my customers from Canterlot to the party, and, well, they invited their friends, and their friends invited their friends, and so on. Of course, then they all wanted costumes, so suddenly I found myself all but shackled to my sewing machine,” she went on.
Spike frowned. There was an edge of… something in her voice. He couldn't quite decide what – relief? Desperation? That was the problem, the big catch in his crush on Rarity. He wanted to make her happy, but the part of his brain that handled emotion melted into a soppy mess at the mere sight of her. The other bits were principally devoted to procuring unhealthy amounts of sugary treats and making clever remarks, and were of no help whatsoever in this situation.
“Spike? Darling, you're off in your own little world. Talk to me.”
“Rarity,” he said, carefully. “Are you okay?”
For a brief, shining moment, he thought all was well. But then, almost inevitably, Rarity's lower lip began to wobble. “No. No, Spike, I am not okay. I'm having a simply terrible evening. My reason for wearing this stupid, ugly affront to fashion didn't pan out at all, and now, nopony will even speak to me! All they say is 'nice hat' and back away! I mean, honestly now. This is a fancy dress party co-run by Pinkie, for goodness' sake. I wasn't aware that there would be a ceiling on costume weirdness.”
Spike listened, and found himself agreeing unconditionally with everything she said. Even the bits that didn't need agreeing with, like the 'ands' and the air-quotes around nice hat. However, despite this, a thought stirred in the back of his mind. “Uh... Why not find the others and talk to them? I know they're in costume, but it should be easy enough to work out. I mean, Pinkie's is obvious.”
“True, but... Pinkie is so very perceptive, in her own way. I can only imagine her reaction if she found out I wasn't enjoying a party she was responsible for.”
“Change costume?”
“I neglected to bring another with me. I didn't have time to make a better one for myself.”
Something clicked in Spike's brain. “We can get you a costume if you want. I mean, I know the castle staff. I'm sure I can persuade one of the maids to let us borrow her uniform for the night.”
In fact, he already had somepony in mind. Dragons, much like mafia dons, never forgot who owed them what, and there was a maid who was very much in Spike's debt. Three years ago, she'd dropped Princess Celestia's birthday cake, and Spike had very kindly taken the rap.
“Really? You'd do that? Pour moi? Oh, Spike, you're the best friend a mare could ask for!” she trilled.
“Don't mention it,” the dragon replied, although he sort've wished she would keep on mentioning it. There was a certain pleasure to basking in the appreciation. “I'll be back real soon with a costume. Don't go anywhere, okay?” With that, he turned tail and fled, on yet another mission for the good of the world.
Rarity sniffed. She really did adore Spike – he was so dependable. If you needed something done, he would get it done every nine times out of ten. That was valuable, in a town like Ponyville. Even Twilight was a seven out of ten most of the time. She was sure that he'd end up making somepony (or some dragon, she wasn't species-ist) very happy some day.
Maybe, in one of the countless alternate universes, Rarity would have done what Spike said and waited exactly where she was. He would have returned with an outfit that didn't make her want to throw herself off a bridge, and the rest of her evening would have been spent mingling, chatting, and experiencing that particular brand of social contact that she enjoyed so much. She never would have noticed the familiar hat and mask of a Mare Do Well making her way to the drinks table. But alas; it was not to be.
As she eyed the costumed mare, the thought occurred to her that she had, perhaps, given up a little too soon on her great Plan. After all, one never made a truly great dress without going back to the drawing board once or twice. Even if things didn't work out, it was Rainbow Dash. She was used to weird. Surely she'd provide some light conversation until Spike returned. And they'd already been 'introduced' earlier, so there was no need for ice-breaking. With that in mind, she began to move in on the Mare Do Well, already a touch excited by the prospect of some real talk for once.
“Oh, Rainbow Dash!”
The mare turned, slowly, and gave her a wary glance.
Rarity couldn't help but feel that the reception was a little chilly, but forged ahead regardless. “We talked earlier, don't you remember? How are you finding the party?”
“Do Ah look like Ah have wings?” the mare growled.
In a very quiet and dignified fashion, Rarity began to panic. How could she have not noticed that there were no wings on the costume? She'd just leapt straight in, not thinking, and had such an obvious thing elude her notice! It was as though some great, cosmic force had temporarily turned off her brain, for the sole purpose of allowing life to defecate in her breakfast cereal. And of all the ponies to be wearing it, Applejack was the one she had least wanted to run into!
“A-ah! I'm so sorry, I thought you were somepony else. Same costume, you see. Sorry to bother you –” Rarity began, starting to move backwards, but the farmer immediately closed the distance.
“Of course Ah'm wearin' the Mare Do Well getup! How many fancy costumes do y'all think Ah own, Rarity?”
“R-Rarity? I don't know who you mean. My name is Elusive–”
“Ah bet your name's elusive, because y'all just made the dang thing up! Y'all think Ah was born yesterday? That crazy outfit is like a big ole sign sayin', oh, lookee here everypony, Ah'm in disguise!”
Rarity decided that the best thing to do was fix her gaze a few feet above Applejack's shoulder and avoid lowering it for any reason. This, much like everything else she'd done that evening, was a mistake. It only served to confirm the inevitable: that everypony was now staring at her. Well, staring more. If she could have hidden herself within the vast chasm of her sombrero hat, she would have.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” she muttered woodenly.
Applejack took another large step forward, and suddenly Rarity's personal space had become communal. “Now y'all listen here,” the farmer hissed. “Ah may not know a lot about how to act at a fancy shindig, but what Ah do know is that you showin' up in a ridiculous disguise and looking fer Dash just reeks of trouble. An' if y'all think for even a second, that Ah'm about to sit back and watch while you stick your nose where it ain't wanted, y'all have got –”
Rarity never found out what she all had got, because Applejack was interrupted by a blinding flash of light and a not inconsiderable amount of fire. With a weary, dangerous smile, Twilight Sparkle put out the flames and moved towards them. Her tail flicked ominously, and every pore seemed to radiate how impressed she wasn't.
“Hi. Sorry, but we need to talk,” she said, in the very specific tone of politeness that whispered, 'I am making a conscious effort to be friendly right now. Imagine what would happen if I were to stop.'
“Well, y'all can get in line, Twi. Me and Rarity were already havin' some words,” AJ snorted.
“Ra…” Twilight began, but the words died on her tongue. She looked at Applejack, then Rarity's sombrero, then at Applejack again. She closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them, there was a glint that hadn't been there before.
Rarity's panic very swiftly became terror. Not the melodramatic, damsel-tied-to-a-train-track terror she was so fond of, but the primal terror of a child caught by her mother with a hoof in the cookie jar. Twilight's eyes only ever glinted when she'd had a stroke of genius or when her paranoia had reached fever pitch, and there was no way of telling which was which until the fertiliser made contact with the air circulation systems.
Finally, the librarian gave Applejack a meaningful look, and asked: “…So, what've you got?”
Rarity stood in dreamlike horror as Applejack recounted, quickly and in great detail, the discussion they'd had about Rainbow Dash's love life over a week prior. Twilight nodded sagely as the farmer explained how stupid she thought the idea was, and how much trouble it would cause. Through it all, Rarity's tongue felt it was made of lead and welded to the roof of her mouth.
“I should have known,” Twilight said at last. “I knew there was something going on besides Rainbow Dash's… being Rainbow Dash, but I couldn't put my hoof on what.”
“So, what've you got?” Applejack asked.
“Well,” Twilight said, in the same faux-cheerful voice, “I've just been talking to Fluttershy, who's hiding in the library. According to her, a pony wearing a spangly leotard and a sombrero stalked her around the room, cornered her at the drinks table, and started asking her intrusive questions about her love life. I only know one pony dressed like that.”
Applejack's responded by becoming very still, and very quiet. This was not a good sign. Applejack was only quiet when she thought yelling had no chance of working. A quiet Applejack was usually a very violent one.
“Intervention?” she asked.
“W-wait. Darlings, you have to listen, I can explain, I didn't know it was–”
“Intervention,” Twilight agreed. Applejack took off her hat, and pulled a lariat out of it. “Rarity? I'd advise you not to move. I'll hear you out when the party's over.”
As the rope fell around her, Rarity sniffed, and consoled herself with the thought that sometimes, bad things happened to good ponies.
Last time on Fear Of The Fall: More party related stuff happened. Talk about arc fatigue. Who writes this rubbish?
It was common knowledge throughout Equestria that if you were trying to get somewhere you weren't supposed to be, the best way of doing it was to act like you had every right to be there. Nopony would question you, and you could simply cruise on through to whatever it was you were trying to do. Early in her childhood, Rainbow Dash had taken note of this, and practised a nonchalant swagger that eventually became her default method of transportation.
Unfortunately, what was common knowledge to Rainbow Dash was also common knowledge to the ponies being paid to guard things. As a result, anypony who looked like they belonged in a place too much would be swiftly thrown out. It therefore followed that the easiest way to get to places you shouldn't be was to wander, wide-eyed, as if you had just stumbled through a rift in time and space that had conveniently spat you out backstage with your favourite band. This was a trick Dash was yet to master.
Even deprived of its purpose, however, the swagger remained. Dash never walked; she strutted. She didn't fly; she soared. She strolled carelessly past the suits of armour that seemed to gaze down at her when she passed by. She sauntered casually past Commander Cirrustrade, who had procured a cup-and-ball and was enjoying himself as per his orders. Her progress: unstoppable. Her destination: the kitchens of Canterlot Castle.
The chefs had retired for the evening, and the great bronze cooking pots (usually bubbling over with vegetable soup) lay dormant. There was, however, one pony still in the kitchen when Dash burst in. She was covered in rope, and her eyes were red and puffy from melodramatic tears.
They had let her keep the sombrero.
“Wings. You have wings. Rainbow Dash, is that you?” Rarity asked, wiggling upright. Applejack had tied her up rather more tightly than she thought was necessary. She was quite sure there would be welts.
“Wow. Nice hat, Rarity. Lemme guess, you came as a piñata?”
“Yes, you're certainly Rainbow Dash,” Rarity muttered. “Now, listen. You must help me. Applejack tied me up and –”
“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa. Too much information,” Dash said, stepping lightly around her trussed comrade and opening a cupboard. “I mean, I always kinda thought AJ would be into that stuff, but what you two do in your alone time ain't my business.”
If Rarity could have had a wish, any wish, she would have spent it wishing she didn't know what Dash was implying. “No,” she said patiently. “You don't understand. Twilight was there and–”
“You got Twilight to join in? Wow. I thought she was way too straight laced for that kind of thing. I guess you never can know a pony,” Dash said, shaking her head in mock sadness and rummaging through the spice rack. “Hey, Fluttershy and Pinkie aren't in on this too, are they? If I'm the only one not invited, I swear you guys are off my Hearth's Warming card list.”
“Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said sternly. Her voice was hoarse from all the shouting she'd been doing in hopes of attracting help.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You're way too prissy for that stuff,” Dash said with a shrug. She looked philosophically at a vial of black pepper, before returning it and bustling off to another corner of the kitchen.
“So… aren't you going to untie me?”
Dash snorted. “Absolutely. Not! I mean, come on. Twilight and AJ are the responsible ones. If they tied you up, they've probably got a pretty good reason for it. What did you do, by the way?”
Rarity had enough dignity to look away. “Well, I may, through a series of coincidental mishaps, have scared Fluttershy just a touch.”
“So, what you mean is, you terrified her. Am I right?” Dash asked, taking a bite out of an apple she'd found.
“Well, I wouldn't say… I mean… reportedly, that might perhaps be the case, but…”
Rainbow Dash sighed, but didn't say anything. Like Applejack and Pinkie, she was a member of that very rare class of ponies who could reduce an entire room to silence by simply not talking. When Dash went quiet, she did it very loudly. With an uncharacteristically serious expression on her face, she sat down beside her friend. Absently, she picked up a salt cellar from the counter top and began toying with it.
“Okay, Rarity. You and me have gotta have a little chat. So, you scared Fluttershy. It was an accident, right?” Dash asked.
For a very brief moment, Rarity wondered what would happen if the answer was no. She got a sudden, vivid mental image of that salt cellar being shoved in places no salt cellar ought to venture. “But of course. I would never purposefully scare Fluttershy.”
“You're gonna apologise to her, right?”
“Ah, well. I don't think she knows it was me. Costume, you know.”
“So, you're going to tell her it was you, and then you're going to apologise to her. Right?” the pegasus asked patiently, as if explaining that lava was hot and that it would be unwise to wash your face in it.
Rarity nodded glumly. Of course, she'd have to explain to Fluttershy about her whole Plan, too, but it barely even mattered any more. She'd had time to think whilst wriggling around on the floor, and had come to a realisation. There was much that she was prepared to put up with in order to sow true love, but being tied up in a public kitchen by her outraged friends was not on the list. Neither was causing undue distress to Fluttershy. For the time being, at least, she was more than ready to call it quits on Operation: Rainbow Romance.
“Then we're cool,” Dash said, and sprang abruptly to her feet. “Now, where's the booze cupboard?”
“Wait. We're cool? At a moderate temperature? Just like that? I mean, not that I'm complaining, darling, but I scared Fluttershy. Aren't you mad at all?”
“Pfft. Come on, Rarity. I've known 'Shy since we were fillies. You really think I've never scared her by accident before? Hayseeds, I've scared her on purpose more than a few times. I only stopped pranking her because Pinkie doesn't like it,” Dash explained with a snort. “Hey, is it sombreros that can hold a ton of water without spilling it, or am I thinking of something else?”
“That would be ten gallon hats, darling, and I'll thank you not to pour water dans mon chapeau,” Rarity added, as Dash reached for a glass. “I was just wondering, because Twilight and Applejack were… less than pleased about the situation, one might say.”
Once more, Dash became quiet. She had the air of a pony deciding whether or not to reveal a dark and dangerous secret. “They're probably just being protective of her. Kinda hard not to be protective of Fluttershy. But, y'know, sometimes I think they take it a little too far. She's timid, but she's not a baby. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who doesn't tiptoe around her, if you know what I mean. Wine or rum?”
“Wine is a good deal more sophisticated, so I should lean towards that. And what do you mean, darling?”
“Rum it is then. What I mean is,” Dash began, then clicked her tongue as she searched for the right words. "It's all about confidence. Everypony always acts like she's going to burst into flames or something every time anything scary happens, and because everypony else acts like that, I sometimes think 'Shy tricks herself into being more anxious than she actually is. Like, if everypony just acted normal instead of comforting her about disasters that don't exist, maybe she'd be less nervous all the time.”
Rarity thought about that. She wasn't quite sure if she agreed or not, but it was certainly more in-depth than she had previously credited Dash's thought process to be.
“Alright, I'm set. By the way, Rarity? Don't tell anypony what I said just now. I mean, I've got a reputation to consider. I don't want ponies to think I waste my time on all this touchy-feely emotional stuff,” the pegasus said. “If you do tell anypony, I'll tell them you and AJ were having a kinky bondage party with Twilight. Then tell AJ and Twilight that you said it.”
“My lips are sealed, darling. But what, may I enquire, are your plans for that rum?” Rarity asked.
The bottle that Dash had selected was a large one. More than large, in fact. Bottles, logically, are measured by the amount of ships you can fit in them, and Dash's was a full two-and-a-half ships, plus a small dinghy. The label was covered in ancient, spidery hoofwriting, which said something to the effect of 'Abandon hope all ye who enter here'.
“Well, first, I'm gonna spike the punch. Then, I'm gonna drink Princess Luna under the table,” Dash replied.
There was a long period of silence where Dash grinned smugly and Rarity's mind tried to comprehend what she had just heard. Rarity's mind was still trying to figure out why she was tied up and wearing a sombrero. She was due a nice, long bout of stark-raving lunacy, but it was so much less satisfying when all you could do was wriggle and knock over a few pots.
“Ahaha. I must be dreaming, darling, because I thought you just said you were going to get drunk with the Princess. As I recall, alcohol is a drug, and drugging royalty is one of those things that comes with a prison sentence,” she said. The high-pitched strains of panic were already obvious in her voice.
“Twilight says that, technically, food is a drug since it has an effect on the body and you ingest it. They don't put the chef in jail for feeding her, so they can't put me in the slammer for getting her wasted. Q.E.D, Rarity,” Dash said loftily.
“That's… Darling, that isn't how it works, alcohol is a poison and–”
“Twi said everything's a poison if you take enough of it. She's a bigger egghead than you, so that gives her priority.”
Rarity wondered if, hidden somewhere in the labyrinthine folds of Rainbow Dash's brain, there was some kind of 'Top 100 Eggheads' listing by which she navigated everything she heard. It wouldn't surprise her. Sometimes, the pegasus made even less sense than Pinkie did. But then, Pinkie was logical, if you knew what arcane and mysterious logic she was using on that particular day of the week. Dash saw the logic and then casually interpreted it in the way that was most convenient for her. (Somewhere in the world, as a direct result of this thought, a pot called a kettle black.)
“Hold on a minute, darling. Let's look at this practically. How do you know you can even outdrink Luna? She's at least a thousand years old, one of the most powerful magicians in all Equestria. You, on the other hand, routinely lose in drinking contests with Applejack.”
Dash lowered an eyebrow. “Have you even met Applejack? She lives on a farm.”
“What does that even mean?” Rarity asked, and tried to throw up her hooves in exasperation. Unfortunately they were still bound to her sides, and the effect was diminished somewhat.
“Anyway, even if Luna's like some thousand year old super granny, I have it on reliable authority that she just spent roughly a thousand of those years on the moon. There aren't any bars on the moon. I think her booze tolerance will have gone down by now.”
“But supposing she does outdrink you. What then?”
Dash tapped her nose with her hoof. “She'd be the one getting me drunk, so I wouldn't get in trouble. If I win, I get one over on Luna, and if I lose, I'm just her friendly drinking buddy. It's the perfect crime.”
Rarity realised, with a sinking sensation of dread, that she wasn't going to get through to her. Dash's head was simply too hard. It was like trying to dig to the centre of a mountain with a knitting needle. Something would break, and it wouldn't be the mountain.
“Well, darling, I can see you're quite set on this. I would just like to say that it has been an honour to be your friend, and I shall visit you in jail whenever I have free time,” Rarity announced gravely.
“Don't worry. It's gonna be awesome,” Dash replied. Without further ado, she made to leave, taking time to jangle the hanging pots and pans as she did.
“Wait! Darling, can I ask you to do me one very small favour? Should you see Spike, tell him that I was unfortunately waylaid and am currently in the kitchen. He should be carrying a maid's outfit.”
“Right. If I see Spike in a maid's outfit, tell him you said to get back in the kitchen. Got it,” Dash recited, and left. Within seconds she was back, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe.
“Uh, as much as I know you love the sensation of bein' tied up, I'm pretty sure there's like, scissors and knives in the drawers. I mean, it's a kitchen. Why don't you just do some of that crazy unicorn telekinesis stuff and cut the ropes?” Dash asked. “That way, you get to go free, but Twi and AJ can't blame me for untying you.”
“Darling, you are an absolute treasure,” the unicorn said, mentally pummelling herself for not thinking of the solution herself.
“No problem. Us troublemakers gotta look out for one another. Make sure to give me five minutes to clear the area, so nopony connects me to the scene of the crime,” the pegasus cautioned, and was gone.
Rarity sighed. Us troublemakers. Well, it was certainly true, as Twilight and Applejack had taken such great pains to inform her. Trouble had most definitely been made. But perhaps the evening hadn't been entirely without profit. She felt she'd bonded with Rainbow Dash, albeit just enough to know that there was more going on in the pegasus' head than she let on sometimes. If she'd had a pen, she'd have put the discovery down in a letter – “Dear Princess Celestia, today I found out that my friend isn't a total emotional black hole. Also, stallion's leotards: really quite uncomfortable, and not recommended for evening wear."
When her five minutes were more or less up, she breathed a sigh of relief. The whole evening had been one bout of cartoonish stupidity after the next, and she was glad it was almost over. She had every intention of spending her remaining time well away from the dance floor where Applejack or Twilight might catch her – perhaps she would pay a visit to Fluttershy to make good on that apology. She grasped the handle of the drawer with her magic and pulled. Instead of opening, it rattled. She pulled again, and got the same result.
“Stuck. Of course it is,” she muttered.
There are advantages and there are disadvantages to being a princess. One of the greatest pros is that you can knock on any door in the realm and expect to be given a cup of tea as thanks for your not ruining the country. In this way, princesses are much like glorified builders. However, to balance this wondrous privilege, a princess is required to attend the horse races once per year wearing the floppiest, most ridiculous hat she can lay hooves on.
Another great joy of being royalty is that everypony is very eager to name things after you like trains and bridges and cakes. Princess Celestia had once ridden HRH Princess Celestia over the Princess Celestia Bridge while eating a slice of Princess Celestia sponge, and had found it more amusing than she had any right to. The corresponding sorrow was court life, where ponies in large and ridiculous hats gave large and ridiculous speeches about how they shouldn't have to pay taxes on their large and ridiculous bank balances. (There are a lot of ridiculous hats in the princess job. It comes with the territory.)
Still, the largest disadvantage of being a princess, insofar as Luna was concerned, was that you were contractually forbidden from showing surprise when a mare in a mask and a (faintly ridiculous) hat slides out from underneath the table and begins staring at you.
“I've been looking for you, Princess 'Celestia',” the mare said.
“It appears you have located me. I take it thou art Rainbow Air-quotes Dash?” Luna asked.
Dash blinked. She'd really been relying on shock factor of blowing Luna's disguise to carry her through. “Uh, sure. That's me. I know you're Princess Luna, by the way.”
“That was not at all implied by the sarcastic pause when you addressed me initially,” the Princess said dryly.
Rainbow Dash smiled, mainly to hide the fact that she was hideously, terribly wrong-hoofed. She had sort of assumed that she'd walk up, talk to a princess, magic would happen and drinking would occur. That was how things usually happened in her day to day life. Now she had to come up with a cunning plan to trick Luna into having a drinking contest with her.
“Have a drinking contest with me,” Dash said.
“No,” Luna replied.
“Simon says have a drinking contest with me.”
The princess blinked. “What? What manner of pony has a name like Simon?”
Years later, Dash would remember this moment as the time she tried to outfox a thousand-year-old moon princess with a foalhood game. “Simon does. Simon says have a drinking contest with me, and you gotta do what Simon says.”
“Bring forth this Simon. I would meet the pony so impertinent as to issue orders to a princess,” Luna said darkly.
“Look, forget Simon! All I want is to get to know you a little better. I mean, we're colleagues. You run the kingdom, I save the kingdom,” Dash wheedled, not adding the obvious 'sometimes from you'. “And Twi's basically family to you, and I'm her friend. I just wanted to...y'know, do a little bonding.”
As if conjured by the mere mention of her name Twilight Sparkle appeared in a flash of light, ready to discuss the matters of correspondence that Luna had hinted about. It was here that she made her first huge mistake of the evening: she did not run, screaming, for the hills. Instead, she saw Rainbow Dash, and began to look remarkably unimpressed.
“Okay, what's going on?” she asked. She hadn't bothered to re-disguise herself as Luna.
“Rainbow Dash was attempting to persuade me to indulge in some bondage,” the princess replied.
Twilight's face performed an interesting twitch, but she bravely resisted the urge to make a sarcastic comment. “Okay, linguistic drift is a thing that exists. So, she hasn't tried to prank you?”
Luna shook her head. “Not as of yet. However, she has informed me that I am to participate in a drinking contest with her, on pain of Simon's displeasure.”
“…Drinking contest. Right. But Pinkie said this punch was non-alcoholic,” Twilight said, and gave Dash a look which would curdle milk. Had Dash been a less courageous pony, she would have excused herself from the scene. As it was she began, almost imperceptibly, to squirm. Luna noticed.
“Would you care to join our contest, Twilight Sparkle?” she asked, and was rewarded by the colour draining from Dash's face.
“Actually, yes. I'll take the first drink. That way, I can tell if there's anything funny going on.”
“You can't,” Dash said quickly. “There isn't enough punch for all three of us.”
Twilight looked at the punch bowl, which was very full, and then at Rainbow Dash's head, which was apparently very empty. The air became tense.
“Whoops,” the pegasus said woodenly, and swept the bowl off the table. “Oh, man. Looks like we'll have to find a different bowl, huh?”
Had Twilight's face suddenly peeled off to reveal an angry, fire spitting demon, it would not have scared Dash any more than the look she actually gave her. “We will talk about what you put in that punch later,” Twilight hissed, and stomped off to find another bowl.
“I take it that the punch in question was spiked?” Luna asked when the unicorn was out of earshot. “Some pranks have not changed in a thousand years.”
“Of course it was spiked! Me and you just dodged a custard pie right there. You can't let Twi drink. Ever. She gets drunk,” Dash said, her voice popping as it sometimes did when she was excited or certain she was about to die.
“She does? How unique.”
“You don't get it. When Twi gets drunk, she starts casting all the magic spells she's not stupid enough to cast when she's sober. Last time, she turned off friction for the whole village. Nopony could move, and the ones who were moving couldn't stop. The time before that, she looked into the future – then started laying traps.”
Luna's face became very still. “And approximately how much alcohol does it take to induce a state of drunkenness in Twilight Sparkle?”
“I don't know,” Dash said, throwing her hooves in the air. “Maybe one, two glasses? She's a total lightweight.”
Twilight returned, a bowl of punch levitating dangerously above her head, circled by three glasses which rotated like cartoon birds after a heavy crash. Still glaring at Dash, she gently placed the bowl on the table, filled a glass, and made her second grave mistake of the evening. She drank it.
“Huh. Tastes weird,” she said.
The centre of the dancefloor burst into panic as a sphere of blinding light flickered into existence. The infinite number of streamers that Pinkie had put on the ceiling were shaken free and pulled into the maelstrom that surrounded the orb. Several unlucky ponies found their hats bursting into flames. As suddenly as it had started, the phenomenon stopped, revealing none other than a second Twilight Sparkle – one with a stagger, a red nose, and a look of great misguided purpose. She had around her neck a small vial of black fluid, tied in place with a red ribbon.
“Some pranks haven't changed for – you didn't!” Dash hissed, as Luna looked on at the chaos. Ponies were fleeing the dance floor, leaving the new Twilight alone in the centre.
“Greetingsh. I am Twilight Sparkle from about… five o' clock tomorrow morning, and I come bearing dire newsh of terrible danger!” the new Twilight said grandly. “Wheresh me? I need to talk to me.”
Present Twilight took a deep breath, as if fighting the urge to do something deeply, deeply violent. Then, she turned to Rainbow Dash.
“Rainbow Dash, I know you're my friend, and I know you probably didn't mean for this to happen, but I am literally going to kill you for whatever it is you've done,” the unicorn hissed.
Future Twilight, upon catching sight of her past self, began staggering across the room, a drunken harbinger of misfortune. “You!” she said, pointing at herself. “I have a grave warning for you!”
“Do they at least put me in jail after I murder Dash?” Present Twilight asked her doppelgänger. “Fluttershy would be terrified if she knew a killer was running around.”
Future Twilight blinked. “Are you crazy?”
“You're drunk. Go home,” Present Twilight replied archly.
“Huh! You're not the bosh of me. Only I'm the bosh of me. I'm older, anyway, so you have to listen,” Future Twilight said smugly.
“Technically, Princess Luna is the boss of you, and Princess Celestia is literally the boss of you. And why are you trying to pull rank on yourself, anyway? What, is your message so unimportant that you're worried I won't listen to it?” Present Twilight shot back.
If Dash had had to describe the atmosphere in the room at that moment, she would have called it ugly. It had been a long, long night for Twilight Sparkle, full of worry and paranoia; the unicorn was more than ready to cut loose and rip somepony a new one. But she couldn't take it out on her friends, because they were her friends, and she couldn't take it out on strangers because she didn't know them. But Twilight never, ever missed an opportunity to take it out on herself.
A hoof tapped gently on Dash's shoulder, and she turned around to see Applejack standing behind her, mask and hat discarded. Dash wondered when she'd arrived; the spectacle in front of her had monopolised her attention.
“Whut in tarnation is goin' on?” the farmer hissed.
“I think the world is ending.”
Ignorant to the whispers of the crowd and her friends, Present Twilight glared at her future self, nostrils flaring and tail swinging. “Fine. You know what? Give me whatever silly warning you want to give me. The sooner you do, the sooner you can get out of my timestream.”
“Finally, you shay shomething smart! Geesh, am I always this bad?” Future Twilight asked, and cleared her throat. “Ahem! I, the Twilight of the Future, bring a dire warning to myself, Dumb Shtupid Twilight of the Past. Whatever you do, and whatever you shee, you must not kish her!” she said, pointing an unsteady hoof at Rainbow Dash.
A deadly quiet claimed the room. You could have heard a pin drop, if not for the fact that the silence would crush the sound beneath its weight. Dash allowed her mouth to hang open.
“What,” she said flatly.
“Oh, yes. Fantastic contribution, Rainbow Dash. A well thought-out argument, eloquent and persuasive. At the risk of sounding unoriginal: what?” Present Twilight asked.
Future Twilight nodded sagely. “Trusht me, it getsh pretty tempting in about half an hour. An' if you do kiss her, not sho mush tongue thish time. You'll make a fool of yourself.”
“So, hold on a darn minute. Twi's gonna kiss Dash?” Applejack asked, with the tone of a pony who is quite sure they're dreaming and that they'll wake up any moment.
“She was, but I came back and warned her. Unless… That's what givesh her the idea to do it?!” Future Twilight said, as if the idea had only just dawned on her. Abruptly, she rounded on her past self once again. “This alwaysh happens with the time travel! Why don't you jusht learn your lesson and stop doin' it?”
“I did! I wrote a letter to Princess Celestia about it!”
“Well obvioushly you didn't, because I wouldn't be standing here! Ugh. Why am I sho stupid in the past? Now I have to use my backup plan. Where'sh Pinkie? I need to see Pinkie Pie!”
The future Sparkle concentrated, a red glow appearing at the tip of her horn; in a flash of light, Pinkie appeared with the remains of what appeared to be a rather large chocolate cake smeared around her muzzle.
“Pinkie! I am Twilight Sparkle of the future, and I need your help,” the unicorn said grandly.
“Don't listen to her, Pinkie,” Present Twilight cut in.
“No, don't listen to her. Listen to me.”
“Which me?” Pinkie asked, her innocent blue eyes wide.
“This me!” the Sparkles said in unison.
“O-kaaaay,” Pinkie said, and licked the chocolate from her lips in one big sweep of her tongue.
“Now listen, Pinkie. I need your help to shtop a huge disaster. If you do it, I'll… uh… I'll make you a member of the Time Police!”
“She's lying,” Present Twilight said.
The earth pony held up a hoof for silence, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What rank?”
“Er… Sergeant! You can be Sergeant Pie!”
“But I'm already Sergeant Pie. Dashie made me Sergeant Pie,” Pinkie said slowly.
“Well, now you're Sergeant Sergeant Pie. Sergeant Pie squared, if you like,” the unicorn said, plainly amused at her own joke.
“…What do I do?” Sergeant Sergeant Pie asked. Present Twilight groaned.
“Take this potion,” Future Twilight explained, snapping the ribbon from her neck and giving the vial to Pinkie. “If you see Old, Stupid Me drink anything at all, I want you to use that potion and stop her. Don't worry about her magic, you'll be too fast for her to cast anything.”
Pinkie nodded earnestly. Satisfied that she had discharged her duty, Future Twilight allowed herself an inebriated smile and staggered over to the punch bowl. She dipped a glass in and began to drink.
“What do you think you're doing?” Present Twilight asked, incredulous. Her fury was all but palpable.
“I'm already drunk, so it doesn't matter.”
“Go. Home,” Present Twilight hissed.
The other Sparkle opened her mouth as if to protest, but thought better of it. Her past self's horn was already glowing, ready to visit any number of strange and unfortunate punishments on anypony overstaying their welcome. She shrugged, and was unceremoniously bathed in scalding blue light and howling winds; in seconds, she was gone, as if she had simply popped out of existence. The entire hall held its breath, waiting to see what Twilight Sparkle – their Twilight Sparkle – would do next.
“Pinkie?” she said, her voice strangely cheerful. “Give me that potion. Now. I promise that I won't drink any more if you do.”
“But I was meant to use it to –”
“Future Me was a little confused. She wanted you to use the potion to stop me from drinking, and if you give me the potion I'll do just that,” Twilight said patiently.
Reluctantly, as though she was bringing shame to her station as a member of the Time Police, Pinkie gave Twilight the vial. The unicorn casually opened it, took a sniff, and then swigged carelessly from the vial.
“Cold coffee,” she announced. “My future self tried to give Pinkie coffee. Of all the stupid… ugh.”
“Are… are y'all all right, Twi?” Applejack asked.
“No. No, Applejack, I am not,” Twilight sighed, and it came out with the beginnings of a sob in it. “AJ, you're in charge. I'm going home. If I don't, I'm going to do something terrible to everypony who isn't you, Fluttershy or Pinkie. And I'm not sure about Pinkie.”
She exploded into light, and vanished. The room let out a collective gasp of relief. The only ponies who didn't were Rainbow Dash and Luna.
“Oh my gosh. She was gonna make out with… I'm in so much trouble,” Dash moaned, sinking to the floor and putting her hooves over her head.
“My sister is going to be furious. Apoplectic. She hasn't told me off for a thousand years,” Luna murmured to herself. “What a unique experience tonight has been.”
“AJ? What do we do?” Dash asked.
Applejack sighed and put her Mare Do Well hat back on her head. There was still a lot of work to do before she could rest easy for the night and prepare for whatever tomorrow would bring. But then, she'd never been afraid of a little effort. “Go and tell Fluttershy that we're wrappin' up this whole shindig. Ah think we've all had enough for one evenin'. Ah'm gonna go and untie Rare. Pinkie, you go and find Spike.”
The mareless moon had reached the peak of the sky before they had finished. Some of them wished it would hang there in the stasis of time, never to descend.
