)Something About You
Lightning Dust shivered as the cold air bit at her face, begging her to slow down, but she tried to pay it no mind—it would be dark soon, and a quick glance at the horizon confirmed that she was still a long way from home. She pressed on over the homesteads that dotted the landscape below, smoke billowing from their chimneys, and a jaunty melody rose up to greet her ears over the rush of the wind.
Heh. Music for the flight home? Why not? It sounded like a violin, but violins were supposed to be… well, snooty. But this? This was lively, playful, and exciting—and nothing like she'd ever heard before. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped flying to take it in until the music had come to an abrupt stop. Lightning Dust huffed. Just when it was picking up, too.
"Who—who's there?" called a voice that was much closer than Lightning Dust had expected. She spun around and found herself almost face-to-face with a yellow earth pony mare, who was leaning out of a window and glaring at her.
Lightning Dust scratched the back of her neck. "Heh, sorry." She fluttered her wings and started off in the direction of home again, and she heard the window latch shut behind her. She cast a glance back at the mare in the window and halted her journey once more. The mare looked… sad? Angry? Both? How could a pony who had been responsible for such incredible music just a minute prior be this unhappy?
She glided back to the window and alighted on the sill, rapping sharply on the glass. The mare inside obviously hadn't seen, nor heard, her return, as she'd yelped and fallen out of her chair. Lightning Dust simply giggled and waited for the mare to collect herself and open the window—just a crack.
"It's not that funny, you know. Ponies don't sneak up on other ponies like that."
Lightning Dust grinned. "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you. Can't help it if you're not paying attention." She shook off the last of her giggling and leaned against the wall. "What's got you all upset, anyway? ...I actually kinda liked your music."
The mare in the window just continued glaring. "Why are you spyin' on me?"
"Hey, I asked my question first. You've gotta answer mine before I answer yours. Them's the rules," said Lightning Dust as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"'The rules'? Whose 'rules'?"
"You know… the rules." Lightning Dust gave her a non-committal shrug. "I asked first, so you've gotta answer first. That's just how it is."
The window-mare opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut and massaged her forehead. She cautiously opened the window a little more, letting Lightning Dust lean against the window frame. "...Do you really want to know?"
"Yeah, I really want to know. Your music was so much happier than…" Lighting Dust pointed at the other mare and around the room. "...this. So spill. Besides, don't you want to hear my answer to your question?"
The window-mare bit her lip and nodded before taking her seat back by the window, resting her head against the wall. She opened her mouth several times as if to say something, but apparently thought better of it each time, until she finally mumbled something.
Lightning Dust flicked her tail inside the window. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."
More mumbling. A little louder this time, though. That was progress, at least.
"Oh, come on. I'm here, ready to listen. What's so hard?"
"...I want to go out for Hearth's Warming and I can't."
"Is that all? What's stopping you?"
The apparently-stuck-at-home-sitting-by-the-window mare closed her eyes and groaned. "My parents. They think I'm too young to be going out on my own and… I don't exactly get to make my own decisions."
"Whoa, that's—"
"Ugh, I mean, I do, but they have plans for me and the farm and stuff, and, well… And we are a long way from town, so it's not like it's unreasonable, but still…"
"So you've got overbearing parents who like to tell you what you can and can't do. Big deal." Lightning Dust chuckled and leaned into the window further. "I wouldn't be half as awesome as I am now if I'd listened to everything my parents said."
"It's not that easy, though."
"Isn't it?"
"It isn't! The farm needs a lot of work and I have chores to do in the morning. Every morning. I can't just… not do them, y'know?"
"Sure you can. You just can't let other ponies keep telling you what to do; it's your life and you've gotta take the reins and live it the way you want to."
"I guess…"
Lightning Dust tapped her hoof against her chin, chewing on a thought for a while in silence. "Tell you what: I didn't have any plans for tonight, anyway. How about I come by later and show you what a real night out is like? I could stand to have some fun tonight."
The mare-sitting-in-a-chair-by-the-window-with-overbearing-parents nearly leapt out of said chair. "What? No! I couldn't! That would be—"
"—Fun? Just what you need? A great way to lighten up?"
"Irresponsible!"
"Ha, yeah, that's what makes it great!"
The mare-that-looked-like-she-could-strangle-Lightning-Dust stood up and moved to shoo Lightning Dust out of her window, then paused halfway through closing her window. "...You never did answer my question. What are you doing here, anyway?"
"I was on my way back home from flying practice when I heard you playing your violin thing. You're pretty good at it. I don't normally like the violin and all that nonsense, but the way you play yours is pretty rad. Name's Lightning Dust, by the way."
"Fiddlesticks," muttered the blushing-mare-in-the-window-who-looked-like-she-only-vaguely-wanted-to-strangle-Lightning-Dust.
"What? What's wrong now?"
"No, that's my name. I'm Fiddlesticks."
"Oh, huh. Nice to meet you." Lightning Dust held out her hoof and Fiddlesticks hesitantly shook it. "So I'll pick you up in a couple hours?"
Silence. But at least Fiddlesticks didn't slam the window in her face or anything.
Lightning Dust laughed and took off into the air, calling back, "great, I'll see you then!"
Fiddlesticks sighed, shook her head, and latched the window again, just in time to hear her parents call her for supper.
"Augh!" cried Fiddlesticks, falling out of her bed in a tangle of sheets as a loud tapping at her window startled her awake. She detangled herself and yanked the window open, rubbing her eyes. "You—you actually showed up!"
Lightning Dust grinned. "Well, duh. I said I would. Besides, I can't go out on my own. How sad would that be?"
Fiddlesticks just stood there. "I… I didn't think you'd actually be here."
Lightning Dust hovered outside the window, waiting for Fiddlesticks to recover. When it became obvious she was just going to stand there all night, Lightning flew into her bedroom and tapped her on the nose, startling her out of her reverie. She motioned to her back. "Hop on. I'm busting you out."
Fiddlesticks took a hesitant step forward. "I can't just…"
"Just what?"
"...sneak out like this."
"Of course you can. Trust me, the first step's the hardest, but you'll love it. I promise. Oh, and grab your violin thing. You might want—"
"—Fiddle," interjected Fiddlesticks. "I guess it's a violin, but the way I play it, it's a fiddle."
"Right." Lightning Dust nodded. "That. Now come on! The night won't be young forever!" She spread her wings and sat down, waiting for Fiddlesticks to join her.
After a few moments of internal struggle (and impatient tapping from Lightning Dust), Fiddlesticks picked up her fiddle and took her place on Lightning's back.
Without warning, Lightning launched both of them through the window and high into the air with a hearty laugh, accompanied by strangled yells from Fiddlesticks, who had her neck in a death grip. Lightning Dust did a quick spin, then levelled out and glided back down to the ground, landing in the fresh snow with a quiet crunch. When Fiddlesticks didn't release her grip, she turned around to see she'd had her eyes closed. "You can let go now."
Fiddlesticks peeled one eye open and looked at the ground. "Oh." She slid off Lightning's back. "So how are we getting to town?"
"We're already there."
"Wha—no. That's impossible! It's over an hour away!" But sure enough, when Fiddlesticks turned her gaze higher, there stood the shops overlooking Mane Street not more than a hundred hooves away. Carolers went door to door, entertaining patrons of the various establishments, and ponies hurried to and fro, gift bags held high out of the snow, while others walked slowly, sharing scarves with loved ones or laughing with friends. Fiddlesticks' blood ran cold and she held her fiddle case close to her chest. She shouldn't be here. "I—We should go back. My parents are going to be so worried!"
"Whoa, hey. Relax," said Lightning Dust, throwing a hoof over Fiddlesticks' withers. "Everything's fine. If you really want to go back, I can have you home in an instant. I am the fastest pony in all of Equestria, after all." She nudged Fiddlesticks forward a bit. "But now that you're here, don't you want to stay for at least a little while? I know a place that makes a mean hot cocoa. It'll be my treat."
Fiddlesticks hesitantly nodded and took a deep breath. Other ponies were enjoying themselves, so… why shouldn't she? And hot cocoa did sound good. She gave Lightning Dust a more assertive nod, and the two started trotting, Lightning leading the way. With every step, Fiddlesticks felt a weight lift from her shoulders—and it wasn't just the hoof that Lightning Dust had just removed.
Lightning Dust led the two to a little shop tucked away in a corner just off Mane Street, largely in silence—probably on account of Fiddlesticks' audible shivering; Lightning had never been much of one to get cold herself, but perhaps other ponies weren't quite as accustomed to the cold as she was. Oops.
It was a quaint little shop with just a couple tables crammed inside, but the warm light spilling out onto the street, and the smell of rich chocolate and spices that tickled the nose leant an air of familiarity that invited her in. Lightning Dust held the door open for Fiddlesticks and motioned toward the only table near a window.
The warmth of the shop greeted Fiddlesticks with a friendly hug, and, upon stepping into the shop proper, she got a good look at just how tiny it was. Behind the counter was barely enough room for a single pony. But, she supposed, if your specialty was hot cocoa, there wasn't much need for space. She worked her way around the maze of tables and chairs, knocking into only one of them, and took a seat.
From the doorway Lightning Dust asked, "spicy or regular?"
"Er… regular." Fiddlesticks figured she'd already been adventurous enough today, and some normality would be nice.
A clatter of coins and a tripped-over-by-Lightning-Dust chair later had Fiddlesticks facing her new friend. Was she a friend?
She settled on "maybe".
"So how are you holding up?" inquired Lightning Dust from across the table.
"I'm doing alright, I guess." Fiddlesticks stared out the window. "I still feel like I shouldn't be here, but…"
"But…?"
"This is…" Fiddlesticks refocused her gaze on Lightning Dust with a small smile. "Nice."
The clattering of mixing utensils, the quiet roar of the kitchen fire, and the occasional swish of a whisk filled in the silence between the two until Fiddlesticks spoke again. "So… what do you do, Lightning Dust? Not just any pony calls themselves the 'fastest pony in Equestria'."
"Of course not! That's because there's only one of me!" Lightning Dust stuck her chest out and flared her wings, nearly knocking over a shelf. "One day I'll show Equestria I've got what it takes to be the greatest Wonderbolt that ever lived."
"Oh, I think I've heard of them. They're that flying team, right?"
"You bet! They're the best fliers in all of Equestria—probably the whole world—and I aim to be the best of the best of them."
"So what are you doing until then?"
Lightning Dust folded away her wings and gave the shopkeeper an apologetic look after a quick series of taps alerted her to the precarious position of her wings. "I've got a job at the weather factory up in Cloudsdale and I come out to the fields around here to train every day. It's hard work, but I know it'll pay off. You don't get to be the best by slacking off."
Fiddlesticks ran a hoof across her fiddle case and nodded slightly. "I get that."
Two steaming hot (and very tall) mugs of cocoa found their way in front of the two, and Fiddlesticks wasted no time in digging in. "Wow." There was just the perfect amount of sugar, spice, and... everything was just so nice and silky smooth, and hot, but not scalding...
"Heh, yeah. This place is pretty great, isn't it?" Lightning Dust took a swig of her own. "They make a mean spiced cocoa, too. You ought to try it sometime—it's the best for cold days like this."
The two carried on in silence, and Lightning Dust couldn't help but notice Fiddlesticks relax more and more as she drank. By the time she was done, she had a small, but content smile on her face. And more than a little whipped cream.
"You've got a little something right there," said Lightning Dust, pointing right at Fiddlesticks' muzzle.
"Oh?" Fiddlesticks crossed her eyes, trying to get a good view. Eventually she managed to snake her tongue around her muzzle and lick off the offending whipped cream.
Lightning Dust chuckled behind her hoof. "I think you got it all."
"So—" Fiddlesticks slumped back into her chair. "—I was wondering…"
"Mhmm?"
"Why me?"
"What do you mean 'why me'?"
"I mean… of all the places to stop by today, of all the ponies to bother in the middle of the day…"
Lightning Dust grinned. "I chose to bother you."
"Yeah. Why?"
"I'll be honest—" Lightning Dust finished off her own drink and also reclined (as far as she could given her surroundings, anyway). "—I didn't actually know, really. Not at first. There was just something about you and your music, I guess."
"My music?"
"I said it earlier, and I'll say it again. I don't like violins. They're slow, and screechy, and the music? Snooze."
Fiddlesticks gave Lightning Dust an indignant glare. "Well, if you wanted to insult my fiddle—"
"That's just it, though. Your music is so cool. It's almost like flying: it's free, fast, and exciting. I've never heard that before, and I guess it just caught my ear."
"Oh, um. Thank you."
"And then… there was just something about the way you looked afterward that reminded me of myself."
Fiddlesticks leaned forward and struggled to contain her laughter. "Me? Like you?"
"I mean it! Believe it or not, I wasn't always so uh, what's the word? Outgoing-ish?"
Fiddlesticks shrugged.
"Anyway… I used to wait around for things to happen, too. I've wanted to be a Wonderbolt since I first heard about them as a foal, but life didn't seem to have that in the cards for me. My parents wanted me to get a nice, stable job. They wouldn't get me tickets to see the Wonderbolts or anything, and, even though I tried to show them I was good enough by winning nearly every flying competition I could, they still wouldn't listen.
"It took me a long time to figure out that if I wanted something, I had to take it. Life doesn't give you what you want just because you want it, and it certainly doesn't make it easy on you. Everything I have I've had to work hard for, and I know I'll get what I want because I'll put in the effort and make it happen. I guess I sort of felt like you needed that same kick.
"You're… really good at what you do, and I can tell you put a lot of heart into it. So what if other ponies have other plans for you? Buck 'em. Life's too short to not do what you want to do."
"Oh, I, um." Fiddlesticks blushed. Hard. "Wow."
"Erm, sorry."
"Oh, goodness, no, you're fine! I just wasn't expecting... that." Fiddlesticks sat quietly for a minute, processing everything that had been, well, dumped on her in the past minute. "So that's why you 'invited' me out to town?"
"Well, yeah. Feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah." Fiddlesticks chewed her cheek. "I guess it really does."
"Now, if you're done with your cocoa, I've got something else in mind for the rest of the night. I promise you're gonna love it."
Fiddlesticks, failing to find a clock in the shop, pressed her face up against the glass to try and get a look at the moon. "We're… not done yet?"
"Chuh. Of course not! There's a whole lot of night left to go."
"I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Fiddlesticks pushed her chair back and stretched her legs. "Lead the way."
Lightning Dust made for a hasty exit, leading a scrambling-to-catch-up Fiddlesticks back up Mane Street, only to stop suddenly when a shop caught her eye, nearly causing Fiddlesticks to crash into her.
"Hey!"
"Sorry. Just thought of a quick detour." Lightning Dust trotted over to the shop and riffled through one of the clothes racks, plucked a bright orange red scarf from it, and tossed it over to Fiddlesticks. "Here. I saw you were cold earlier. Try that on."
The throw caught Fiddlesticks off-guard, and she nearly dropped her fiddle while trying to catch the scarf. "Oh, thank you, but you don't have to do that."
"Nah, it's fine. I dragged you out here without letting you get anything. Didn't realize it was so cold out, honestly. Go on, try it on."
Fiddlesticks cautiously wrapped the scarf around her neck and trotted over to a mirror to take a look. It was rather warm and pretty, and the vibrant color somehow didn't clash with her coat. It… worked for her. "Are you sure ab—" she started to ask.
"I'm sure," interjected Lightning Dust as she dropped more bits on the counter.
Fiddlesticks winced at the sound, but Lightning had insisted that it was okay…
She could hardly ponder it further before being dragged off further down Mane Street again—she certainly wasn't able to get a word in in between dodging other pedestrians, snowponies, and other assorted seasonally-themed decorations. She could have sworn she'd heard Lightning Dust say something about not wanting to be late in between the indignant shouts of passer-bys. Er, passed-bys.
At last, they came to a stop in front of a large building that Fiddlesticks could only surmise was a bar, if the faded sign calling it "The Trough" was anything to go by. The roof lacked more than a few of its tiles, the steps leading to the door jutted out at odd angles, and the windows had clearly been on the receiving end of many years of posters having been plastered on and scraped off, obscuring any kind of view she might have had of the inside. How pleasant.
"And here we are!" declared Lightning Dust. "Just in time, too."
"In time for what?" asked Fiddlesticks, nervously following Lightning Dust inside. She hadn't been led astray so far.
Much to her relief, the inside painted a much different picture: a well-lit stage sat upon the far end of the room with a slew of tables surrounding it, some occupied by whole families—foals included. Hot food left a well-hidden kitchen, and a clean bar served a hooffull of patrons, none of whom seemed to have had more than they should have. Far from the seedy atmosphere she'd been dreading, this seemed to be a rather reputable establishment.
What did strike Fiddlesticks as odd, however, was just how quiet the bar was. She'd followed Lightning Dust to a table and had opened her mouth to say something, only to be quickly shushed.
'What?' she mouthed.
Lightning Dust pointed at the stage and, in the time it had taken for them to get to their table, somepony had made their way up and had brought a mic stand with her. Lightning Dust scooted closer to Fiddlesticks and whispered in her ear, "It's open mic night."
Fiddlesticks pulled back and gave her a quizzical look. 'What's that?'
"Anypony who wants to can take the stage and show off their talents. Usually. Sometimes they suck, but it's all in good fun."
Fiddlesticks giggled. "That's kinda cool."
"It's anything from poetry, to storytelling, to live music. I can't think of a better way to have a good time, can you?"
Fiddlesticks sat back and shook her head as the first act of the night got started. It probably should have surprised her when it was entirely rock-themed poetry, but after the wild evening she'd already had, she just decided to go along with it. It wasn't bad, honestly.
The first act had just about wrapped up when Fiddlesticks' attention was stolen by the sound of "two ciders" leaving Lightning Dust's lips accompanied by a hoof pointing at Fiddlesticks.
"What? No! I can't!" protested Fiddlesticks, perhaps a bit too loudly.
"What? You're old enough, aren't you?" whispered Lightning Dust.
"Well, yeah, but—"
"Then no arguments. It's pretty light stuff, anyway." Lightning Dust turned back to the waiter. "Two ciders, please."
An "of course" was whispered and, in moments, a pair of ciders were left at the table.
Fiddlesticks resigned herself to her fate, and took the proffered drink, sipping on it between performances. Like most things that day, she found herself enjoying it more than she thought she would.
Several more acts got up on stage, performing a variety of music—Lightning Dust was serious when she'd said it could be anything. A brass quartet played a striking rendition of The Fire of Friendship, and another soloist opted for some sort of chant. One banjo player, in particular, caught Fiddlesticks' ear, and she sat up a little taller to get a good listen.
Fiddlesticks had lost herself in the applause after that last performance, and was startled when she'd felt her fiddle case bump into her. She looked over at Lightning Dust, who had a hoof on it and was actively prodding Fiddlesticks with it, looking pointedly over at the stage.
"You can't be serious!" hissed Fiddlesticks. "I can't get up there!"
"Why not? I've heard you play—they'll love you."
"Because, I, well—" Fiddlesticks shut her mouth. Try as she might, she couldn't think of a good reason why she couldn't. After all, this is what she wanted, wasn't it? Just because she was being put on the spot didn't make it a good excuse. She picked up her fiddle with a huff and glared at Lightning Dust. She was developing an annoying habit of being right. Still, she'd never really performed in front of other ponies before…
Fiddlesticks almost turned around halfway to the stage, but an encouraging smile from Lightning Dust urged her onward. She took a deep breath and took her place up on stage. She couldn't be worse than that beat poetry guy, after all.
"H—Hi. I'm Fiddlesticks." The echo of her voice around the quiet room did little to quell her fears. Steeling herself, she set her bow to her fiddle and began to play. She wasn't sure what, exactly, she was playing—it was rough at first, but after the first few measures, the lack of booing bolstered her confidence, and the notes came easier and easier.
It was only after she'd finished her first song that she'd realized the audience had been clapping along with her music. She broke out in a wide grin, and took a quick bow before starting her next song.
As she wrapped up her second song, the audience broke out in enthusiastic stomping, and she almost pranced her way off stage. She felt alive. Lightning Dust was almost knocked off her chair by the crushing hug Fiddlesticks saw fit to give her, before returning to her own seat.
"Thank you so much, Lightning Dust. I had no idea I needed that so much."
"Hey, no problem. I told you they'd love you. You were great up there."
"Thanks. I mean it." Fiddlesticks motioned for another cider, and was about to kick back and enjoy the rest of the performers of the evening when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and found herself face to face with the banjo player from earlier.
"Name's Kazooie. Fiddlesticks, was it?"
Fiddlesticks nodded.
"You've got some talent, kid; I like what you've got. Haven't seen ya 'round before, and not many first timers here got that kind of skill."
Fiddlesticks blushed and nodded again, unable to find any words.
"I'd love to join you up on that there stage later iff'n there's an openin'. Would you be up for that?"
Finally, Fiddlesticks un-stuck her throat. "You bet your apples I would!" She coughed. "I mean, yeah, that sounds great!"
Kazooie briefly shook Fiddlesticks' hoof and tipped his hat. "Great! I'll see ya up there later, then."
The drinks kept flowing, laughter and cheers dominated the mood, and music filled the air through the rest of the night as things slowly turned into more of a jam session than an open mic night. It was tiring, but Fiddlesticks hadn't had that much fun in such a long time—all her worries melted away. She was genuinely relaxed and felt at home, like this truly what she was meant to do.
What she hadn't noticed, was just how late it was. So late, in fact, that she'd had to shield her eyes from the morning sun as soon as they'd stepped out of the bar after having said 'goodnight' to the few remaining patrons. 'Good morning' might have been more appropriate.
Fiddlesticks leaned against Lightning Dust and yawned loudly as they wandered down Mane Street. She hadn't felt tired just a few minutes ago, but the daylight seemed to have been a stark reminder of just how long she'd been awake.
"Guess we should be getting you home, huh?" Lightning Dust smiled and couldn't help but yawn, herself. She sat down and motioned for Fiddlesticks to hop on.
Fiddlesticks tried to reply, but her brain opted to have her yawn again, instead, so she nodded and climbed onto Lightning Dust's back, settling in for the ride, and, with no further delay, the two were airborne.
Home. Perhaps Fiddlesticks should have cared about being away from home for so long, and maybe it was the lack of sleep finally getting to her, but she found she wasn't worried at all. Sure, she felt bad that her parents were probably frantically looking for her, but she decided then and there that she'd do it all over again given the chance.
True to her word, Lightning Dust had her back at her farmstead in no time at all. Fiddlesticks kept her eyes open this time and almost couldn't believe just how fast Lightning could fly. There was no doubt in her mind that she truly was the fastest pony in Equestria.
What Fiddlesticks wasn't counting on was seeing her parents be worried sick. A pit formed in her stomach, and she almost wanted to run, but a shoulder check from her companion rooted her back in reality.
"Hey, relax. You've got this."
Fiddlesticks took a quick breath in and out, and smiled at Lightning Dust. "You're right. I do." She hugged Lightning Dust close, and finally broke the hug after a long minute. "Thank you, again, for everything tonight."
"Any time."
Fiddlesticks took a step toward her house, then paused. "Will I see you again soon?"
Lightning Dust took off and hovered in place for a moment, saluting her new friend. "You know it." And she was off, into the bright morning sky.
Fiddlesticks trotted the rest of the way home and was met with crushing hugs from her mom and panicked screams from her dad. Questions such as "Where have you been?", "Who was that pony?", and "Are you okay, honey?" flew out of her parents' mouths faster than Fiddlesticks could process them.
Fiddlesticks worked her way out of the hug and cut her parents off. "Ma, pa, I'm fine. I promise. I'm really sorry I made you worry so much, but I think we need to talk."
Another barrage of questions immediately filled the air around Fiddlesticks, but it wasn't enough to mask the sound of Lightning Dust making a low pass overhead. Fiddlesticks caught her winking down at her.
"Happy Hearth's Warming, Lightning Dust," whispered Fiddlesticks with a smile from within the chaos forming around her.