Maud helps Starlight recover after Trixie left. Their shared sadness help them discover more.
Trixie left Starlight after years of marriage. Maud is still recovering from the death of Mud Briar. Maud helps Starlight go through her stages of grief like she was helped. But Maud’s support becomes something more. Is Starlight ready for it? Is she?
I watched as Trixie left. I didn’t think she would actually leave. The guilt ate me almost immediately. I didn’t know if this was my fault, or something that was going to happen anyway. Starlight said it wasn’t.
“Oh, Maud,” Starlight cried as she leaned weakly against my body, “this isn’t your fault.”
See? She’s been telling me that all week.
Trixie had been slowly collecting her things and packing her old caravan. I thought that meant she wasn’t serious. That she was just waiting for some sign or apology that didn’t come.
But she left. And a part of Starlight went with her.
There had been months of fighting. I’d moved in with them at Starlight’s insistence after Mud Briar died. It was supposed to help me get over my grief. It did. Somewhat. The pain was still there, but I don’t want to dwell on it anymore. Not with the constant fighting of my castle-mates.
It began as soon as I moved in, though Starlight insisted that it was before that. Starlight would go out of her way to make sure I was comfortable, and Trixie would get jealous. Starlight was just trying to get me back on my hooves, but Trixie said she was trying to woo me. Then Starlight would call her possessive and insensitive.
I had no idea my friends were suffering like that. There were times when I would catch them snuggling together. In those times I felt the most alone.
Now Starlight was bawling, soaking my hair with her tears, and I was helpless to stop it. I couldn’t bring Trixie back. Even if I could, it would just cause more pain. For whatever reason, Trixie was done. The only thing left for my magician friend was to disappear.
Part of me wished I felt much worse than I did. I wanted to be the type of friend that would feel awful when things like this happen. But I wasn’t. I was just glad the ordeal was over. Now Starlight could be free. She could be happy.
“Maud,” she sobbed. I looked into her tear-stained eyes. “I just feel so…numb. So dead inside. What should I do?”
I knew that feeling. It was all too familiar to me. It was the same way I felt when Mud Briar died. He left me too. He might not have chosen to leave like Trixie did, but all the same, he was never coming back. I wondered which was worse.
“Come inside,” I eventually answered. I knew she was asking a bigger question, but this was the time for small answers. “I’ll make you some tea.”
The distraught unicorn nodded. I put a forehoof on her shoulders and ushered her inside. She shivered even though it wasn’t cold. Was I that cold?
I helped her into her favorite couch and left to find a teapot. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.
I tried to think of how Pinkie would handle this. She would probably say something like,”It’ll be okay. Trixie will get over it. She’ll feel bad and come back. Then you two will be stronger than ever.”
But I couldn’t say something I didn’t believe. I couldn’t get Starlight’s hopes up like that. I wasn’t Pinkie.
I didn’t want Trixie to come back. I didn’t want my friends to hurt each other anymore. It hurt. And, selfishly, I just wanted them to stop.
The tea kettle whistled. Its loud shrill sound echoed through the empty castle. I heard reverberations of it long after I turned it off. It reminded me of my cave at home. Could I ever really return there?
I found a nice lavender tea. Starlight was a fan of teas for the right occasions. I think she learned it from Fluttershy. I had heard that lavender calmed the body and mind. I smelled it to make sure. I don’t think I felt any calmer. The smell of feldspar was much calmer. But I didn’t have any and feldspar doesn’t make tea you can drink.
When I returned, Starlight was staring into a lit fire. The early spring mists always brought a chill to the castle that didn’t seem to leave. The look on Starlight’s face made me feel colder. Her eyes were far away from the fire she stared at. They had sunken into her face.
I slowly offered the teacup. I hoped it wasn’t one of the many Trixie made. Starlight didn’t even look. She took it from me with her magic. I still feel odd when unicorns do that—it’s like a science I can’t figure out. I hate when I don’t understand.
I stared at my good friend, hoping words would come from her. They normally did. I needed something I could begin to work with. But she simply stared, and so did I.
I sat next to her on her couch. Two morose ponies, still and solemn. Friends that had fought their share of battle and had their scars. I didn’t touch her. She knew I wouldn’t. If I thought it would help, I might have hugged her, but I guessed it might just remind her of what she had lost.
This was mourning. This was grief. I knew the signs. But I didn’t know what would work for her.
I’d been cocooned in my own grief for months, but it didn’t help. Being around friends made it better. I’d started to talk to somepony who knew what it was like. That helped a lot.
Now, I had to be that pony. I was now in the same position for Starlight that Applejack was for me. I had to help her through it. But I wasn’t an emotional pony. I didn’t have an “up and at them” attitude like my ‘cousin’ does.
But I had to try.
With great effort and trepidation, I slowly placed my foreleg around the depressed shell of my friend. She was so warm, like some of those lava stones I had found in Shoal Springs.
A shiver ran through her, but she wordlessly leaned in. A large sigh escaped her. Then the tears flowed again. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time. I brought my other leg forward and cradled her.
It was… strange. This was a pony I had always looked up to. She was so free with her thoughts and feelings. I never knew how to do that. But here she was, just as vulnerable as I had been. It seemed grief affected us all the same. The pain felt exactly the same.
I sat there holding the bawling unicorn. I was as still as a stone. I was her rock now, like the immense boulder we had back on the farm. If Starlight needed something solid, I could be that boulder.
The next day I woke up to the sound of something exploding. I ran as fast as I could to the library. My mind was racing. Had she—
I couldn’t even finish that thought. It was too terrible.
Smoke was billowing out of the library doors. Or at least it looked like smoke. As soon as the cloud hit me, I was filled with a strange sensation. Things were distorted. Wrong. Like I was asleep and dreaming.
I didn’t like it.
I pushed my legs through the fog and got into the library. Starlight was slumped over the table.
Oh no.
I galloped to her with all the speed I could muster. I can run fast if I want to.
The flashes of Mud Briar dead next to me filled my mind. Images of all the fun things we shared. How it all ended with his cold, lifeless form, laying wide-eyed in our bed.
I couldn’t let that happen to Starlight. I couldn’t go through that again.
My mind screamed at Starlight but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t let myself panic until there was an actual need. My hoof shakily pressed on her body.
“Mmmm? Just five more minutes…” the body whined. I finally breathed. I was never good at holding my breath.
“Are you okay?” I asked. I could feel a sliver of anger race through me. I don’t like being surprised.
“Mmmm? Oh, Maud,” Starlight’s voice sounded drunk. Had she been drinking? I wasn’t one to drink much. I didn’t like the feel of it.
“I couldn’t sleep,” the exhausted voice whined. “I felt so... cold. So I thought I should make a spell to help me sleep. It kind of blew up. Yawn. Oh, I think it might be working.”
I found myself yawning with her. I could feel my body slow down and my eyelids closing. “Was that the cloud I walked through?”
“Yeah… we’d better… get to bed,” Starlight struggled to say. But I didn’t wait any longer. The spell was taking hold. I took a hold of her and slogged back through the cloud.
Starlight slumped onto my back. Her gentle breathing tickled my ear. It was comforting.
Her bed was only two doors away, but it felt like light-years. My lead legs trudged through the hallway. Each step felt like I was pushing Holder’s Boulder.
I could feel the ground creeping closer and closer. The door was in sight, I just needed to make it there. I might be able to toss her on her bed before I collapsed. Just a few more steps.
“Maud?” the sleeping unicorn asked. Her voice was so soft I could barely hear it. I had only two more steps left in me.
“Yes?”
“Could you sleep with me? In my bed, I mean. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Yes.”
The two steps I had to go became twenty. But if Starlight needed me, there was no way I would fail. I pushed through the exhaustion; the spell should have known better than to try and stop me.
The bed inched closer and closer until my hooves refused to move. I could feel my eyes closing on their own. It was so close, but I knew I wasn’t going to make it. I bent down and prepared to throw my charge into her bed. I wouldn’t be next to her like she wanted, but at least I could be nearby.
My world turned green, and I found myself on Starlight’s bed. I had just enough awareness to feel her forehooves engulf me. Then the spell took over.
***
The overcast spring afternoon greeted me as I woke. I felt the deep cold that seeped into my bones, but my back was still warm. The hoof around me squeezed a little tighter.
My first thought was of Mud Briar. I felt my whole body warming at the thought of his form lying next to me. But then I remembered: He was gone. This wasn’t him.
I could feel the tears welling up. This wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t be this comfortable. Why did the universe want me to suffer?
“Mmm. Morning, Trix,” the groggy voice behind me said. Then I felt warmth and moisture on my cheek.
“Oh! Oh, Maud! I’m sorry, I just thought…”
I listened as that voice began to recall what had happened. The bright tone in it dulled to a small, sad one. It collapsed in on itself.
“Well, thank you for staying with me,” Starlight said as I turned to her. “It helped me a lot.”
“I can do this as often as you need it,” I assured her.
“No, I should, umm… get used to things. To being on my own. I don’t want to impose on you.”
“It helps me sleep better, too. But if you want to adapt as soon as possible, I support that,” I told her. I don’t know how much of it I really meant. But I knew she wasn’t burdening me, and I didn’t want her to think she was. “We all process grief differently.”
“Grief?” Starlight said, confused. “Trixie didn’t die, she just… left.”
“Your relationship died,” I informed her. “It’s still death. And I am here to help you through it.”
I was trying to be reassuring, but from the look on Starlight’s face, it was clear I wasn’t. I needed to find a way to help her. Despite my awkward ways and speech patterns.
“A death? No, it’s not the same. Not like what you went through anyway. Both Trixie and I decided it was over. So, it’s not like a sudden disappearance or anything.”
“Yes. But you might still grieve the loss.”
“Maud, really, I’m fine. A little down of course, but not nearly as bad as I was last night.” Starlight smiled at me.
I wasn’t convinced. Especially when her eye twitched.
“I am still here for you. Even if I have to spend every day here.” I hadn’t worked on any digs in months. Not since Mud Briar died. But I knew they would be there for me when I was ready for them. Starlight needed me more. Pinkie would call that ‘progress’.
“C’mon, Maud, I’m strong enough for something like this. I fought Chrysalis by myself, for Celestia’s sake! A little breakup isn’t going to put me out for long.”
“It isn’t a breakup,” I reminded. Though I knew it may hurt, I have always sought to tell my friends the truth. “It’s a divorce.”
“Yeah… I guess it is. But still, it was a mutual thing. This could be good for me right?”
“Right.” I didn’t want to tell her that this was the best outcome. That I secretly hoped for this, so that my friends could stop hurting and have a chance to find real happiness.
“See! So I’m going to go and do some research, like I always do. Thanks for staying with me. But you should get back to your own work.”
I nodded, but I had no intention of doing it. She still needed me. I could feel it. Maud sense.
I watched her leave her room and decided to make some tea for us. Or maybe some coffee—the sleep spell still lingered.
***
The bitter drink chased off the last vestiges of the spell. I didn’t mind the taste; bitterness was just another flavor, and the coffee was doing its job.
I brought Starlight a cup. She was busying herself with her spells. I didn’t know what any of them did, but bright colors filled the library. I placed the coffee next to her. She didn’t look up at me.
“Thanks, Trix.” The unicorn said as I stood off to the side. She started drinking then stopped. “Oh, this is new! Where did you get...”
Her face fell as she looked at me. I tried not to feel insulted.
“Oh. Maud… right,” Starlight sighed. “Thanks for the coffee.”
She quickly turned and resumed her work. Her head swiveled back and forth as she continued to read. She’d glance back at me every few sentences or so.
“Umm, don’t you have something else you could do?” she finally asked after the fifth page.
“No.”
“Well, it makes it hard to concentrate when you’re behind me like that.”
“Do you want me to go in front of you?”
“What? No! Just… just find a book to read or something.” The book she was reading shook a bit. It felt like I wasn’t helping as much as I could have.
“Okay.” I looked through the sections and found one called A Study of Emeralds. I sat in a chair and began to read.
Three sentences in, I found that I had misread the title. It was a Sherclop Holmes novel where he and Trotson found some large sea monster. It wasn’t as bad as I imagined, but the glaring scientific inconsistencies pulled me out of the story. I was almost thankful when I heard the muffled sniffles.
Starlight was looking down at the coffee I brought, filling the mug with her tears. It wouldn’t help the flavor. Her shoulders sagged and shook as she stared into the cup.
I slowly got up and walked over. I lightly placed a hoof on her shoulder. She shuddered, but then relaxed. Her soft cheek leaned onto my leg. I could feel wetness seeping into my fur.
“Oh, Maud… I think you’re right,” she sobbed. “What do I do?”
“Just let it go. Don’t stop the feelings.”
It was what Applejack had told me. It took a lot of time, but eventually my pain flowed. However, I did not know what type of pony Starlight was. Did she need to do something, or just feel? Or both?
Whatever she needed, I would help.
She turned and wrapped her forearms around me. She weighed so little; it wasn’t like holding the deceptively heavy Pinkie. I had told her to cut down on the sweets, but Pinkie remains Pinkie.
“Maud,” Starlight croaked after her crying fit, “was it me?”
“What?”
“Was I too controlling? Or did I push her away?”
“No.”
“Was it the way I organized her fireworks, or because I didn't make her favorite meal enough?”
“No.”
“Then what was it?! What did I do wrong?!” She was shaking me. I felt that she wanted to break me open like a geode and find the answer. But the answer wasn’t inside me, and I don’t break that easily.
I looked into her eyes. They were wide with self-doubt. She froze, staring at me like a frightened rabbit. I’m not that scary.
“Nothing,” I told her flatly.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing,” I said again in the same exact tone.
“So then… why did she leave? Why didn’t she want me any more? Was there somepony else?”
“I doubt it.” Trixie would have been too scared to cheat. I didn’t blame her.
“Am I… unattractive?”
“No.”
“Am I too controlling? Too needy?”
“No.”
This felt redundant. I had answered these questions already. But this time Starlight was staring right at my face, looking for something. I didn’t know what.
“Do… you think I’m attractive?”
I wasn’t certain this was helping. Why did she care what I thought? There was a strange look on her face.
“I think you are a fine physical example of a mare.” I hoped she found it comforting.
Her face moved much closer to mine. “Is that your way of saying that you do?”
“I suppose I—“
I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t speak anymore, because she’d suddenly pressed her lips on mine. Passionately.
I didn’t know what to do. My mind froze. This was not something I went through with Applejack.
I wanted to tell her to stop. That it was too soon for this. That she wasn’t ready, and I didn’t know if I was ready either. But I couldn’t.
I felt the warmth wash over me like it had when Mud Briar was alive. I had been so cold for so long.
It felt like rainbow-colored gems; like a thousand trees bursting into life. I wanted that feeling. I didn’t think I would ever have it again. But here it was.
“Oh!” Starlight broke off with a pop of suction.
I stopped myself from pressing for more. It was harder than I thought.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… it just felt so…” Starlight always stammered when she apologized. She danced around the truth as her brain scattered, and I just waited until she collected herself. “I’m sorry, Maud. I just wanted to feel… wanted. It feels awful to be left like this. I know you’re just being a good friend. I won’t take advantage of that, okay?”
“Okay.” I didn’t tell her how good it felt. I didn’t want to confuse her. But I worried I might be supporting her for the wrong reasons.
“It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Okay,” I think she missed the small tinge of sadness in my voice. That was fine. I didn’t understand it myself yet. I’m not attracted to mares.
Weeks passed. I stood by her side. I saw her running a gamut of emotions. She’d cry for days on end, then throw herself mercilessly into her studies.
I would bring her tea or coffee. I would hold her as she cried, and let her be when she became angry or got into a studying frenzy. All the while, she wanted me to sleep in her bed. I didn’t mind. That strange kiss was a one-time occurrence.
At one point, I came back from the store to find her destroying anything Trixie had left behind. There were a lot of shattered teacups, and they all looked the same. I never understood why Trixie needed so many. Then Starlight ended her tirade by shattering her own bedroom mirror. When I asked why, she told me that Trixie used to look over her shoulder whenever she admired herself.
But increasingly, she began to sound like herself. She felt better once she had cleaned the castle of any trinket of Trixie’s. I was beginning to wonder if she was well enough for me to return home.
Was I ready for that? Why did I want to stay here so much? It wasn’t a rock-based decision.
That night, I sat in her bed and contemplated telling her. The look on her face stopped me. She had been creating lesson plans for the upcoming semester. Or so I thought.
“This is going nowhere, Maud,” she sighed and climbed into bed.
“What is?” For some reason, my stomach twisted in knots.
“We interviewed a few applicants for Trixie’s Guidance Counselor position. Not one of them seemed right. Lyra just kept playing with the knick-knacks on the desk. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“I’ll do it.” I found my mouth moving before I could truly comprehend what she was asking. That was unusual for me. Most of the time I wanted to speak but wasn’t fast enough.
“Really? C’mon, Maud, you’re not exactly…poniable? I mean, you give good advice, but you need to be more approachable. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes.”
“But what about your rocks?”
“This is more important. I took a year off after… Mud Briar. I can extend it through the school year.”
“Well… it could help,” Starlight said. An eyebrow raisd at me, then she shrugged. “Alright, consider yourself hired. And that’s not just because we’re sharing a bed.”
She gave a sweet smile—one I used to see when she looked at Trixie. I felt my face blush briefly. I turned and faced away from her.
It was better not to think that way. She was still in pain. I was just helping. Nothing else.
“You know, you always sleep away from me,” I heard her comment behind my back. “You could hold me for a change. Or at least face me.”
“If you want.” It was all I could think of to say.
“It’s okay. You’re just so… solid. You don’t look like it. I always used to wonder what it would feel like to hold you like this.”
“You have?” My mind began to race as did my heart. She’d wondered about holding me? How did she think of me? As a friend? As more? The possibilities filled my mind. It reminded me of when I met Mud Briar.
I breathe off the tension and listen.
“Yeah. You just seemed so… interesting. And you’re built like a rock.”
“Thank you.”
“It made me wonder,” her voice took an unusual tone. It was both inviting and somehow unsettling. “Do you have soft spots?”
“Soft spots?”
“I bet I could find at least one or two.” Her hooves began to move down my body. I didn’t need Maud sense to feel their intention.
I placed my hooves on hers. I fought the part of me that wanted to aid them. They were so warm and soft. Unlike mine.
“Starlight.”
“Mmh? What’s wrong?”
I rolled to look into her face. It was covered in uncertainty and some embarrassment. It felt too soon. It could still be grief-driven. I had to be sure.
“Is… this what you really want?” I could see her mind starting to work. I wanted her to scream yes then pounce on me, but I was her friend. Friends don’t let friends pounce on them like that. Pinkie said so.
“I... I think so. Do we have to figure it out now? Can’t we just… play around a little? You said you found me attractive, right?”
“Starlight, do I look like the type of pony that ‘plays around’?” At that moment, I wished I was. I wanted to help her. I wanted her to feel better. But I wanted to feel wanted, too. “Do you think our relationship will be the same in the morning if we do this?”
“Heh, that isn’t a no,” she smiled a nervous smile. “But... you’re right. We shouldn’t.” She sighed. “I understand if you feel uncomfortable now. I have to learn to sleep alone sometime.”
“I didn’t say I felt uncomfortable.”
“So you‘ll stay?”
“Yes.”
Her genuine smile returned and she relaxed. I felt awful. I wanted to give her what she wanted. Was I being a good friend or a bad one? Was it what I wanted? Pinkie would have known, but I did not.
“If you want me to face you or hold you from behind, I can do that.” I could feel that need finally simmer down. Those eyes of hers shifted off of ‘fun things’ and looked softer. Her face softened as well.
“I… I wouldn’t say no to being held.” She looked like a foal asking for an extra cookie. Pinkie never asked; there were just no cookies left. The rest of us never got extra cookies.
“Then I will hold you.” A new excitement crept in. It felt like a new step.
My hooves encircled her light, warm body. My snout sunk into her mane. It was entrancing: so smooth and soft. The few times Pinkie’s mane hit me in the face while we slept, it hadn’t felt anything like this. It was coarse and tangled from not brushing. Brushing is important.
“Wow. It’s like being held by a fortress,” Starlight said with an exciting snuggle.
“I’m sorry.” Mud Briar had never complained, but I could tell he felt uncomfortable at times like this. He could never get used to the feeling of rocks.
“No, no, it’s nice. Like I’m protected and… safe.”
She began to drift off in my forehooves. Her breath was slow and gentle. Until the snoring started. It sounded like two boulders grating against one another. I found it soothing.
I decided to talk to Pinkie about this in the morning. She would know what to do.
I wasn’t going to tell her again. I had already told her twice. I simply stared. Pinkie looked like she was going to pop. Popping is bad. She fills up some sort of air and then rains confetti all over the place. It’s messy. I didn’t want the Café we were at filled with color. I don’t think the owner would either.
“Don’t pop, Pinkie.”
“You just said Starlight put the moves on my sister. She just broke up with Trixie like, two weeks ago!”
“Two months ago.” Pinkie didn’t like to remember sad things. She didn’t keep track of those like she did birthdays and anniversaries. She didn’t even talk about Mud Briar except in whispers. Like he would return if she talked too loud and correct her. If he was a ghost he would.
“Whatever, “ Pinkie dismissed that with a hoof wave in the air. “That doesn’t mean she can take advantage of you and get all touchy-feely when you don’t want it.”
I said nothing. I didn’t want to say what I was thinking. I didn’t want my thoughts out loud. It was still too soon.
“You didn’t want it, right, Maud?”
Pinkie was digging. I hated that sort of digging. I preferred a pickaxe.
“Right?”
I said nothing. It was better than saying anything. Pinkie wouldn’t let go once she got a thought in her head. I wasn’t sure which way to answer anyway.
“Gasp! You did, didn't you?” Pinkie’s eyes got so wide that it didn’t seem physically possible. “Maud. It hasn’t been that long since… since you lost Mud Briar. Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Ready?”
“For another relationship.” Pinkie’s eyes resumed their normal shape and stared at me in concern.
“I didn’t say I wanted a relationship.”
“Maud, I’m your sister. I know.” I hate her Pinkie sense sometimes. It could pierce through not just stone and rock, but ponies’ hearts too.
“I’m not sure...”
“Yes you are. You just don’t want to believe it.”
“It’s too soon.”
“It might be,” Pinkie said. She screwed her eyes up in thought. “Buuuut does your heart care about that? It’s going want and want and want and want. It’s not going to follow rules or time tables. It just loves things. And ponies. And it loves a pony right now, doesn’t it?”
I simply stared. Pinkie was right. She was always right. I wanted to tell her it was something different, but I knew it wasn’t. Somewhere in the middle of watching her crying and sharing her bed, my heart had decided it wanted Starlight.
How could I tell her? Should I tell her? Did I have the right to? It had only been 2 months.
“I don’t know if she’s ready.” I finally concluded.
“Maud, you silly pony. She gets to make that choice, not you. If she’s… doing that stuff, then maybe she’s telling you she is ready.”
“But she said she didn’t want anything serious.”
“Of course not. Serious isn’t fun. She wants to show you she’s still fun, and not mopey all the time. Hmm, maybe she needs a party. I could put together something quick before I pick up Little Cheese from the foalsitters.”
“I don’t think I will feel comfortable at a party. I should just tell her.”
“Okie dokie artichokie, but if you two do get together you have to let me throw a congratulations party.”
She winked at me, then ordered a dozen cream puffs to go from the café we were at. I watched the “to go” order vanish into her mouth. I wondered why she bothered with the bag. “Oh, shoot, I’d better get going. I don’t want to miss the twelve o’clock parade.”
She dashed out of the café and started marching all by herself in the middle of the street. She pulled her instruments out of her mane and started to play. The ponies that watched her fell in line behind her as her planned impromptu parade made its way through the center of town.
It was a good thing I didn’t ask for a party. Pinkie would have tried to fit one in between all that work.
***
I returned home to find Starlight waiting for me. I didn’t know if I should tell her my feelings. Was I taking advantage of her? Was I one of those ponies that preys on downcast ponies’ feelings?
“Maud! There you are,” Starlight said as a warm smile graced her face. “I got so used to you always being around, I was a little worried when I couldn’t find you.”
“I met with Pinkie.”
“Oh good. I had hoped you two were getting along now.”
She was referring to the yelling incident. Pinkie tried to help when I was in my depression, and I’d yelled at her. Once I moved in with Starlight and Trixie, I forced myself to apologize. I don’t like sweeping things under the rug—you can still see them if you look. Pinkie hadn’t even been mad, though; we’d gone on as if nothing had happened. It had surprised me, but that was Pinkie.
“I have a surprise,” Starlight continued, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You know how last night I… um… got a little… excited? I thought about it, and I think I need to blow off some steam. So I talked to my old buddies from Our Town and they agreed to go on a double date with us.”
“By ‘double date’ you mean...”
“Well, of course I wasn’t going to leave you out,” she said as my heart sank to my hooves. “I found a nice stallion that sounded interested, and Night Flyer is coming. We’re going out.”
I could barely contain my utter disappointment. Pinkie’s advice seemed completely off. How could I tell her my true feelings after this?
“So, let’s get ready!” She looked like her sun had risen again. There was a lightness to her that I hadn’t seen in months, maybe years. The toll that Trixie took on her had been awful.
“Okay,” was all I could muster. It was the worst possible time to bring up my problem. I decided to help her get ready instead.
The dress I picked for her was jaw-dropping. I didn’t have that physical reaction, but I definitely felt my heart racing. My heart wasn’t in my jaw, though.
Starlight twirled around to show off her new look, and each revolution seemed to add more credence to Pinkie’s theory. I found myself having difficulty thinking clearly as my emotional state took over. Luckily, most ponies can’t tell.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”
“You look amazing,” I admitted with the same dry tone I use for everything. It was hard to really emote with a tone like that. But it was all I had.
“Good! Now let’s pick something for you.”
***
I had one dress. Only one. I wore it everywhere. The material was a synthetic polymer that withstood the dangers of my job. It even repelled dirt. I didn’t want to tell her that.
“Umm, do you have any other dresses?”
I shook my head. Starlight was looking in my closet, which was empty except for my helmet. I still felt embarrassed. It was like letting her into a much more personal space. Or it could have been from my heightened emotional state.
“Oh. Well, you want to borrow one of mine?”
It was a simple question. But the thought slipping into something that she wore felt very intimate. Like having a piece of her so close. It would smell like her and move in the way she normally moved. I was physically larger, so the dress would be tight. Like she was continually hugging me.
“Yes.” I tried not to sound as enthusiastic as I felt.
Starlight brought me back into her room. I looked at the bed we had been sharing for the last two months. It was soft and warm and well-used. The type of bed that seems to get more inviting the longer you spend in it. I realized that if Starlight got her way, another pony would be in it with her. Not me. I didn’t like that thought.
“I’m not sure how I feel about this.” I hoped my discomfort would dissuade her. I wasn’t ready to tell her the truth yet.
“Maud, I know you’re… like a camel.” Starlight had her back towards me as she looked through her dresses. “But I really need to blow off some steam. I’m too pent-up to think straight right now. So this will help. And it might help you… you know, find your mojo again.”
Mojo was not the issue. I had plenty of that. Most ponies would be surprised at the depth of my want. But it’s something I only share with special ponies. Only ponies like Mud Briar, who are truly worthy of it.
“Here it is.” Starlight brought out a red dress that sparkled in the lamp lights.
I tried to imagine her in it. Glittering in the light of the Grand Galloping Gala. The pink and red swirling about as she danced. It was a thought that nearly stopped my breath. But I breathed anyway. Bad things happen to ponies who don’t breathe.
“Try it on,” she said as she thrust the red dress of light and winks into my hooves. I took off my frock and saw Starlight flush. “Maybe in some place… not in front of me.”
“But you don’t wear clothes at all.”
“Remember how I’m feeling? Watching you undress makes it worse.”
I nearly threw my frock off just to see if she would succumb. But that would be wrong; taking advantage of her weakness to get what I want. So I relented and moved to a secluded location.
When I returned Starlight looked like her eyes were going to burst. Her face flushed and her cheeks reddened. A smile graced her lips that made my heart ache to see. I felt my cheeks color. It was probably just a lighter shade of grey.
“You look amazing!” She giggled like a school foal. “No stallion could resist you. I’m having a hard time myself.”
Little comments like that were pinpricks to my soul. I knew she meant it as a compliment, but it hurt anyway.
I couldn’t do this for much longer. I couldn’t keep it in. Pinkie was right. The heart doesn’t care about timetables. It was beating so hard that the floor shook. Or were my legs shaking? My body was normally much sturdier than this.
“Starlight, I—”
A loud knock at the door interrupted my nerve. Starlight turned and made an excited sound that Pinkie usually made. Kind of like a squee, but maybe it was more of a squeak.
“They’re here! Are you ready to bust a move?”
“No.”
“Well, I’ll help you get started. Think grace and style. I know you can dance. Just think of your body moving like that.”
I didn’t like to show off my dance skills. It was one of the few things I used to love doing as a foal. Not as much as rocks, but the sensation helped stimulate endorphins that caused a giddy feeling inside me. So I tried to put my dance knowledge to use as Starlight suggested.
It was strange to dance to the door with the impending feeling of doom on you. One way or another my little fantasy bubble was going to change.
The dance club was loud. I didn’t understand the need to meet ponies in places where you couldn’t hear what they were saying.
It was filled with ponies dancing and undulating to an ear splitting beat. It was also dark. Like a cave filled with lasers and steam. I suspected the darkness kept you from seeing the debris and refuse on the floor. The sticky substance I put my hoof into when I walked added more weight to my hypothesis. It also smelled bad.
Starlight said you needed to say it all on the dance floor. She and Night Flyer were certainly “speaking” a lot out there. I sipped my cider and looked at my own date.
He was blue, and his mane puffed out like Pinkie’s. He also talked a lot. I don’t think I really got enough of what he said to put it all together. Something about balloons.
“I can bend a balloon in any shape you want,” the pony shouted with a wink. It made me shudder. It felt like he was trying too hard. What had Starlight told him? “So, what shape do you want?”
“A rock.”
“A rock?!”
“A rock.”
The pony looked at me like I had two heads. I got that a lot. He didn’t get me. He wasn’t the first.
My heart ached as I remembered Mud Briar. He never looked at me like that. He never implied anything sleazy, either.
My eyes returned to the dance floor. The pegasus and unicorn were all over each other. They were probably intoxicated. I would have to deal with both of them in the morning.
Starlight caught my eye and shook her way over. “Maud! Isn’t this great? I feel so alive out here. You should dance! It’s really fun.”
I looked at the “fun” the other ponies were having. It looked like Starlight wasn’t the only pent-up one out there—ponies were gyrating and twirling in a chaotic mess that was barely in time with the music. It looked more like they were drunkenly trying to sleep on each others’ shoulders. And failing.
“C’mon Maud, let’s get out there and strut our stuff.” The drunken unicorn grabbed my hoof and pulled me out of my leather-lined booth. My date still looked at the balloon on the table like he was figuring out a math problem.
Despite my own reservations, I followed Starlight’s lead. I wasn’t used to this type of music, but I could take advantage of the rhythms to emulate the other dancers. I found the dull, lifeless banging of the song's heart and matched my movements to it. It was graceful and elegant, but still erratic enough to seem modern.
It wasn’t long before a crowd gathered around me. They stared star-struck at the pony that seemed to know what she was doing. The spotlight was on me. The crowd became a darkness of whispers and awe.
I danced. I danced what I felt: my pain. My ponies. My love for Starlight. If anyone knew how dance worked, they would have seen my heart’s confession in front of a crowd of strangers. But nopony knew. They didn’t get it. Not even the pony it was meant for. They didn’t get me.
I was in the middle of a triple spin when I noticed Night Flyer and Starlight’s forms by the door. They were leaving. The bed would be occupied, and I would be alone once more. It felt awful.
Starlight suddenly walked away from Night Flyer and I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed my way through the crowd, making a straight line for the waiting pegasus.
She glanced up as the crowd parted. There was a smile on her face. Of course there was; she was leaving with Starlight.
“Hey Maud, having a good time with Party Favor?” she cheerily asked. It annoyed me.
“Who?”
“Umm… your date?” The smile fell when she noticed I wasn’t even aware of him. I glanced back and was momentarily distracted by the rock-shaped balloon he held in his hooves. How had he—? It didn’t matter. I couldn’t lose focus.
“You can’t go home with Starlight.” I flatly told her.
“What? Why?”
“She’s not ready.”
“She seems pretty ready.” There was a smirk on her lips. I felt worse.
“Well, she’s not.”
The pegasus opened her mouth then closed it again. She stared at my typical blank expression. Then her face changed to one of sadness.
“Oh Maud, why didn’t you say so?”
“I just did.”
“You really have to tell her. If you wait too long, she’s going to find somepony else,” Night Flyer placed her hoof on my shoulder. “Thanks for stopping me. If she means that much to you, I’ll come up with an excuse to leave. Best of luck.”
I didn’t even get a chance to process what she was saying before the pegasus took off into the air. She landed by Starlight as the happy unicorn left the bathroom. I couldn’t hear what they said, but I watched as Starlight’s head drooped and her tail sagged. It was almost like she lost her sparkle.
I wanted to take back what I’d done, but Night Flyer waved a hoof over to me.
I ambled over, feeling my stomach turn. I was supposed to be here for her. Why was I only thinking of myself? But the look on Night Flyer’s face said there was no going back now. Whatever she’d told Starlight was final.
“Maud will take you home,” I heard the pegasus say as I approached. “You need to rest and drink plenty of water.”
“I really don’t feel that drunk,” Starlight countered. “And it’s not like you’re taking advantage—”
“It just doesn’t feel right,” Night Flyer insisted, cutting off any further protest. “Sorry, Starlight. Go with Maud now.”
Starlight looked like she had been smacked in the face. All the excitement she had fell out of her steps as she slowly obeyed. It was like walking with a pony made of putty. She barely said a word the entire way home.
***
I climbed into bed after we got out of our dresses. My transgression was still wreaking havoc on my stomach. Every sigh Starlight released set my nerves on fire. I had no idea how to tell her this was my fault. How could I betray her like this?
“I just can’t believe it.” She finally said as she flopped next to me. “Do I seem drunk? I’m not slurring my words or anything. I thought she wanted me. That's why she came.”
The sadness in her voice caused me to turn and look at her. She looked defeated. My stomach twisted again.
“You are very pretty,” I said. I didn’t want to overwhelm her with compliments. It would sound disingenuous.
“Thanks. I just wanted a little relief, is that too much to ask?”
“No.”
“Now I have to lay here feeling all pent-up.” She rolled away from me in a pout. The guilt tore at me. If I took away her fun because I really did love her, then it was time to step up. This was what I wanted after all. I just hoped I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life.
I faced her back and placed my hooves around her once more. I was going to say something corny, but I decided actions were louder. I felt that warm hoof clasp mine once more and knew there would be no going back. I could feel her shoulders shake once more and pull her close.
“Thank…you,” she gasped between sobs. I bit my lower lip and flicked my tail between her legs. I hoped that my aim was true. Her sobs stopped immediately.
“Maud… what was that?”
I decided to answer with another flick of my tail. I let it linger a little longer this time before slowly drawing it back.
“Okay, okay,” Starlight said, turning around to face me. “You don’t have to do this. I know I’m a little down, but if you don’t—“
I cut her off with another well-placed flick.
“Maud… now you want to? But last night you said you didn’t want to play around.” Confusion graced her face. Then she got it. She was one of the few ponies that really got me.
“Oh, Maud…I don’t know. It’s only been a few months, and…”
I stared. I could feel the tension in my stomach increase. I was glad I could hold my cider, or I might have lost it all over her then and there.
“Well.” Starlight’s tone suddenly shifted. “You are already in my bed. And we already know each other, and I do like you. I did think about it. As you probably guessed last night. But I thought you liked stallions.”
“I like ponies,” I finally spoke. My voice sounded much quieter to my ears than I have had. I never admitted this to any pony before. Not really even myself. “I like the individual pony. Gender isn’t important.”
“So you think I’m special enough to cross that line?”
“Yes.”
“Have you, umm… ever crossed that line before?”
“No.”
“So, do you know what to do?”
I stared at her. I don’t like the gaps in my knowledge pointed out. The truth was, I hadn’t expected her to go there with me so fast. But I had started it: I’d offered a solution, and she’d accepted.
I simply shook my head.
“Okay,” Starlight’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then I’ll help you first, and then you can help me.”
The sunlight from dawn caused my eyes to open. They slowly slid into focus and I realized that Starlight was no longer next to me—she was on top of me. She nuzzled into my chest as a strange sense of relief washed over me. I must have released my own pent-up steam.
“Mmm? Maud?” Starlight woke instantly as I shifted. “Morning, you beautiful pony.”
She kissed me and I returned it. It was so surreal. Starlight had been one of my closest friends for so long but I had never seen her like this. I never felt her like that. But, in that moment, life made more sense than it had in a long time.
“I had an idea,” she said as she stretched while still remaining on my chest. “Why don’t we take a trip? Get out of the castle, go to the ocean. Celebrate our togetherness.” She giggled like a foal and slid out of bed. “Wow, I never thought I would say that to you.”
I felt the same elation, but my chuckles tended to unnerve ponies. But I found my smile as I followed her.
The two of us shared a nice breakfast with smiles and very suggestive eyes. Starlight really didn’t know this side of me. Once I figured out my bearings, I knew she wouldn’t last long. But that would be discovered in time.
“Well, this time I will make you some tea.” Starlight swayed her hips, which seemed to suggest that it would be more than tea.
It was.
***
The train ride was a welcome change. We cuddled the entire way. I felt so warm.
Mud Briar was never this affectionate in public. He wasn’t really that affectionate at all. I thought it was nice to know that another pony could care as much as I did without having to show it through touch all the time.
This was different, though. Starlight liked to be held. She liked to nuzzle in. It was exactly what I had been missing: those lips, that touch, that warmth. It filled my body with more than just mere lust. It was soul-fulfilling. Like our damaged souls each filled the empty parts of the other.
“So, Maud... if you wanted to be with me, why did you stop me the other night?”
It was a simple question, but one that had plagued me.
“I thought it might be too soon.”
“For me?”
“For both of us.”
“I see.” She leaned her head into the nape of my neck. “What made you change your mind? Was it my dress?”
“Pinkie.”
“Your… sister… changed your mind about us?”
“She told me that the heart doesn’t listen to time. It just wants when it’s ready to want.”
“So it’s like when you’re hungry.” Her breath tickled my ear. She caught on very quickly to how intense I am with physical affection. She was teasing me right now—she would understand much more when we got home. “You don’t listen to your watch, just your body.”
“Yes.”
“I like it when you listen to your body.” I could hear the grin on her face without looking.
“So do I.”
It was at that moment the train stopped. Our desires were put on the backburner. It was better that way. Ponies didn’t like seeing other couples on trains.
The sea roared in our ears as the green-grey water curled and slammed into the shore. I stopped to admire the deposits of quartz tumbled by the sea, while Starlight made right for the waves.
“C’mon, Maud! The water looks perfect.” The unicorn dived in like a madmare, then popped out of the brine sputtering and coughing. “So cold!”
I casually walked in. Though she was right, I found the cold to be calming. My muscles relaxed with a good cold soak. Anything swollen shrank in the frigid water. Muscle groups I wasn’t used to using thanked me as I gracefully plunged into the waves. Thankfully, my swimming cap kept the salt out of my mane.
“Why do you look like you’re enjoying yourself more?” cried the shaking mare. “This water is like ice.”
“It’s autumn. Temperatures drop, especially around bodies of water. You lose your heat twenty-five times faster when you are wet.” I was also cold, but my body had acclimated to much colder temperatures in my rock hunting travels.
“How do you stay so warm?”
“You have to keep moving.” I demonstrated this by practicing my back stroke.
“What about borrowing another pony’s body heat?” Starlight moved further into the water. She stood in the large rolling waves and waded in my direction. “That helps right?”
“Sharing another’s heat raises the core temperatures of both ponies and can stave off hypothermia.” I had been brushing up on my medical knowledge since Mud Briar’s aneurysm. It made me feel more informed and prepared.
“I want to test that theory.” She caught me as I swam past and wrapped her hooves around me. I could feel the temperature between us rise dramatically. She kissed me again, and I helped increase her circulation as well.
“Starlight?” It was a quiet call from the shore. My heart froze. It wasn’t because of the cold water.
Starlight turned from our embrace. We both saw the telltale hat and cape of her ex-wife. The little unicorn peered at us from the shore.
“And Maud?!”
“Trixie? What are you doing here?” Starlight’s voice was tight with equal parts anger and sadness. I just felt sick.
“So, Trixie was right! You two were trying to get together!” The silhouette slowly came into focus as we broke through the wave caps.
“No! No! You left!” Starlight cried. “Packed up all your things and left me! I tried talking and suggesting all sorts of things, but you just gave up. Again.”
“Trixie couldn’t take the glances you gave each other,” the magician countered as she spun on Starlight. “Trixie saw them. You would glance at her. She would glance at you. Trixie wanted to be glanced at like that. She didn’t like your wandering eyes.”
“Trixie, it wasn’t like that. This isn’t the first time you got jealous. First it was Sunburst and the way he stroked his beard. Then it was Octavia; I still don’t get that one. Then it was Derpy because of all the packages she’d deliver.”
“You smiled every time she came around,” Trixie whined.
“Because I ordered a nice set of tea pots and they were coming one at a time. It was a collection.”
“Oh.”
“But you never give me a chance to explain.”
“Trixie can work on that,” the unicorn said.
I felt weak. It always happened like this: Trixie would disappear, then she would promise to do one small change and they would try again. The change would last for maybe a month, and then the honeymoon was over again.
“No,” I said flatly.
“What?!” Trixie looked at me with a suspicious eye.
“Not this time.”
“Umm, Starlight and I are talking, Maud. Don’t interrupt two wives talking things out.”
I looked at Starlight and wondered if I was about to be dumped. It had only been a day, and they’d had years together. I could feel a fire inside me begin to grow.
“No! Maud has every right to be here!” Starlight shouted at her. “She and I are together. You left! She stayed! And, well, I like her.”
“So you’re just going to throw away years of marriage for a two month fight?!” Trixie cried. Tears were forming in her eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Trixie,” I began in my normal tone. “You are a good friend. You both are. You are great friends to each other. But you are an awful couple.” They both stared at me like I had smacked them. I quickly tried to follow up with facts.
“You fight constantly. Trixie, you get jealous of everypony. Starlight, you can’t stand Trixie’s constant need for attention.”
“Hey! Trixie doesn’t need constant attention.” Trixie’s shrill voice cut through my mind and distracted me for a second. I stared at her. “Not all the time…”she grumbled.
I continued, hoping I didn't sound like a jealous lover, but a concerned friend. “You have broken up more times than I can count. Including three weeks before your wedding. I say this as your friend: This relationship is hurting you both.”
“You… you… you have no idea what you’re talking about!” Trixie’s face was inches from mine. Her eye was twitching and that hateful look glinted in her eye. “You’re wrong, we made a great couple. You just want Starlight for yourself.”
“She’s not that wrong Trix,” Starlight sighed. “We have broken up a lot. And this time just felt so… final. I did miss you. But at the same time, I was kind of glad you were gone. You hurt me. A lot. I lost myself trying to bend over backwards for you. And now I want to see what happens with this relationship.”
“Relationship?! With her?! Wait, what have you two been doing while I was gone?!”
“It’s none of your business, Trix,” Starlight said flatly. “Ex-wives don’t have a say in it. But we’re through, Trix. For good this time.”
Trixie’s eyes filled with tears and fear. It was haunting. The raw pain was too much to bear. I wanted to hug her, tell her how sorry I was. But I had meant what I said: They were better off as friends than as a couple.
After a few minutes of shock she whirled on me. Her face was contorted in agony and anger. “I hope you’re happy now, Maud! You took my wife and home from me! So congratulations, you won. I bet Mud Briar would be real proud!”
It hit like a boulder of granite. Mud Briar’s spirit had just watched me split up my best friends. He saw it all: the yearning, the sex. The dirty lust I have in me.
It was too much. It hurt too deep. I was at a loss for words—no, there were no words for this.
I ran. I ran from the pain I had caused. The grief I had made. I had taken my misery and loneliness and placed it on somepony else. I’d just ripped apart a relationship because I lost my own.
How could I ever look at either of them again? I didn’t deserve Starlight. Neither did Trixie, but she didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. Because of me.
I barely heard Starlight shouting my name. I could hear some sort of argument behind me but then I could only hear the smashing of waves. The waves and gulls. The sand kicked up from my hooves as the wind blew salt into my face.
There had to be someplace to hide. Someplace where I couldn’t hurt anypony.
The white sand beach gave way to a cave made of basalt. It was strong; it was safe. There in my tomb of solitude I could finally stop. My hooves scraped across the basalt floor. They echoed in the shallow cave I found. Tidal pools lined the entranceway and a collection of small crabs scurried away in surprise.
I collapsed and wept.
I had thought the pain was healing. I thought it would get better. I thought that moving on would point me in the right direction, and help me see what hope remained. But perhaps there was no longer a place for me here.
If I had left this world with Mud Briar, would my friends still be together? Would Starlight have finally freed herself on her own? Maybe she would have ended up with Night Flyer.
I placed my head on the cold, moist floor of the cavern. My legs burned. My chest heaved. My heart felt like it had been broken in two again.
One of the tiny crabs made a display of dominance towards my snout. I didn’t react. After a while, it gave up and declared victory to its peers. The others cautiously returned after the brave hero vanquished the unmoving monster—only to scatter again when another set of hoofsteps rang out through the cavern.
A unicorn’s silhouette was backlit by the ocean and waves beyond. I knew who it was. I didn’t react.
“Look, Maud, I’m… I’m sorry,” sighed Trixie. “I didn’t mean to bring Mud Briar into this. I was mad. I’m still mad. I love Starlight, and I thought she would always be there to forgive me if I messed up. But this time, I just thought some time apart would be best. I didn’t think she would find anypony else. And I really didn't think it would be you. But she is a great pony. I guess I forgot that.”
Trixie sat down stiffly next to me. She took a deep, steadying breath. “But if anypony deserves her, it’s you. You’ve always been there for her, and I’m the one that messed up. Just… take care of her, okay?”
I could hear her begin to break down. It was an awful sound. Trixie sniffed and shook. I knew her pain. She had just lost one of the most precious things to her. And there was no dialing back time. If I gave up and tried to get them back together, Starlight would just suffer more pain when they inevitably fell apart again.
“Trixie,” I said. My voice was hoarse. I pressed on anyway. “I’m sorry.”
“Just… just make her happy. I’ll see if there is a better pony for me. You know… when I watched you and Mud Briar, I could tell how happy you were together. I wanted that. I wanted that with Starlight. But it felt like the more I tried to find that, the more we fought. The more we fought, the more scared I got. I got desperate to put that feeling into my relationship, but it didn’t work. Maybe you can help her feel that. Please help her feel that.”
All I could do was nod. This was a Trixie I had never seen. She knew what happened, and knew it was too late to fix it. She just didn’t want it to end. I couldn’t blame her.
“Maud, don’t worry about me. I know what I’m looking for is out there. I will find it someday. But you and her have a chance at it right now. Don’t let me keep her from it anymore.”
Trixie stood up and stared back. Her eyes were still wet with tears and the wind from the surf blew her cape back. It took me a moment to realize she was using the wind to deliberately pose. I must have been really upset; normally I notice that right away.
“The road Trixie has to travel is long,” she continued letting the wind take her mane. “It’s dangerous, and full of… um… danger. But she will face it all. All in the name of love. She will overcome it. She is the Great and Powerful Trixie, after all. Right Maud?”
“Yes.”
She looked back at me and beamed, then winked. She tried to stride out of the cave valiantly, but lost her footing on the uneven crags. She rolled out of the cave and plopped into the soft sand. “Trixie is okay.”
I wished that made me feel better, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of getting in their way. Nor the fear that Mud Briar was disappointed with me. How could I have thought I could ever feel happy without him?
“Maud?” Starlight’s voice called in from outside. “Maud, please come out. The tide is coming in, and that cave is going to fill with water.”
I slowly got up and made my way towards the exit. I saw the first laps of the water as it flowed into the cave mouth. I had to wade my way out.
That is, until the next wave forcefully threw me back inside. I tried to swim against it but another push knocked me into the hard wall. I could feel my mind starting to slip. It took all my concentration to hold the air in my lungs.
“Maud!”
I tried to shout. Tried to tell her I was in trouble. But my mouth filled with brackish sea water. Salt filled my nose. I couldn’t shout. I couldn’t breathe . The water clogged my ears and I couldn’t hear. It was just white wash and bubbles. The cave wouldn’t let me go. Mud Briar wanted me to stay with him.
I couldn’t swim anymore. I couldn’t breathe. I was done. I wouldn’t leave the cave after all. At least with Trixie there, Starlight still had somepony. I was just glad that I could make her happy, however briefly. Soon I would be back with Mud Briar.
I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew that voice. If I opened my eyes he would be gone again. I didn’t want that emptiness back. I wanted to believe in the dream.
“I’m not a dream, Maud. Technically,I am a manifestation of your subconscious resulting from your anoxic brain injury.”
“Mud Briar?” I cautiously opened my eyes and saw the pony I missed more than anything. I wanted to rush to him, but displays of affection were something he’d never understood.
“Indeed. The idea of physical interaction is tolerable at best. At worst, it’s a distraction from the true feelings underneath it. Ponies focus so much on pleasure that they forget it’s supposed to mean something.”
“But that’s not why you avoided it.”
“Correct. I found the touch of another unsettling. The strange chemical reaction it produced in me unsettled me further.”
“So why are you here? Am I going with you?” I felt a mixture of fear and elation at the idea. To finally be with him again meant I could feel whole once more. But regret at leaving my loved ones behind was extremely painful.
“Technically, we haven’t gone anywhere. I am in the deep recesses of your mind. So in that way, you are with me now. But also, because of that, you are always with me. Correction: The proper verbiage would be, ‘I am always with you.’”
It was definitely him. But I could feel the question burning in my soul. “Where are you, then?”
“I am in the ground where you put me, of course. Unless you wish to debate the possibility of the soul, or the consciousness of a pony after their body no longer functions.”
“You never believed in those,” I sighed.
“True, although recent events might have led me to different conclusions. However, because I am a mere manifestation, I can not confirm or deny that. I am only aware of what you are aware of.”
“So, why are you here, then?”
“Because you need me. You are fighting for your life in a cave, and losing heart because of an absurd notion that I am judging you in my ‘soul’ or ‘mass consciousness’ state.”
“I just…”
“Did I ever judge you in life?”
I stopped my thoughts. I had always said that Mud Briar worked on the concept of acceptance. He allowed me to feel, and occasionally express myself physically, while I allowed him his time of solitude. It was a symbiotic relationship: The love we shared grew naturally because of our mutual respect. There were very few expectations, and we were never disappointed if the other couldn’t meet them. Judgement was simply not a part of what we shared. It was more like discernment—trying to find the optimal way to express our mutual affection.
“So,” the manifestation continued, “why would I judge you in what many argue is a more advanced state of being? Should such a state exist.”
“But I am not being faithful,” I rebutted. “I am falling in love with another pony. I don’t want to lose you completely.” There was panic in my statements. I was losing his love.It was something I knew I could barely hold on to, like trying to catch the breeze in a jar to enjoy it later.
“Maud. You never failed to love me. I will always be there in symbolic form. You have a large capacity for love. It is natural and beautiful, and you can share it with others. It is a gift that should not be wasted. That would be like a seed failing to grow into a tree.”
“Or a piece of corundum failing to form a ruby despite ample heat and pressure.”
“I believe you have been experiencing both of those phenomena recently.” There was no humor nor annoyance in his voice, he was simply stating raw facts. Those things together should produce a ruby; or, in this case, a relationship. It would be a waste if it didn’t.
“You are correct again,” he said, stealing my thoughts. “Let your ruby form. And my roots will forever be embedded in you. But nothing will happen if you don’t regain consciousness and get out of the cave. I mean that literally, not metaphorically.”
I nodded. “I miss you.”
“You can miss what you haven’t fully lost. But I suspect you mean my physical presence—”
Anything else he said was lost in a wave of water and sound. The ocean was crashing through the cave entrance, and my limp body was being pulled with it. I couldn’t tell what was around me. My face was continually in and out of the water, which made it impossible to orient myself. I was also cold.
“Maud! You have to help us,” Trixie cried as she pulled on my midsection. Her bright blue hooves encircled me and I could begin to tell another part of ones were around her. “Come on, Maud. Kick, or paddle, or something! Oh, please don’t be dead.”
I knew I was in a weakened state, but I used my rock-shattering hooves and kicked at the water with as much power as I could muster. Each leg felt like it was made of the same granite I was surrounded by, but I forced them to move anyway. Starlight needed me. And I needed her.
“She’s kicking! She’s moving!” Trixie cried. “She’s…too strong, I can’t stand up anymore!”
My body pushed Trixie and Starlight over into the rising sea. I just kept kicking until I could feel the sand under me again. I laid down on the dry sand and watched it explode in large tufts with each breath.
“Maud! Sweet Celestia, I was so worried.” Starlight’s voice filled my ears and her weight slumped over my back.
“Don’t worry, Trixie is fine,” snarked the grumbling unicorn.
“Sorry Trix, I just—”
“It’s fine. Go be with your girlfriend.” The magician stood up and started brushing the sand from her cape and hat. She kicked more sand onto it in the process. “Trixie is just happy you’re okay. That you both are okay.”
Starlight nuzzled her tear soaked face into mine. Her weight shifted into a clinging hug. “Don’t scare me like that. Please. Please say you want to stay with me.”
“I do.”
“Tell me you do.”
“I want to stay with you, Starlight.” The pressure of her hug approached strangling levels. It was almost as intense as one of Pinkie’s hugs. Almost.
“You weren’t trying to… to… join Mud Briar, were you?”
“No. Mud Briar is always with me. I can’t join him if he’s already here. You’ll have to share my heart with him. I can’t give you more than that.”
“I…” she took a shuddering breath. “I can do that. You’ll have to share my heart too. With Trixie,” Starlight choked and a sob caught in her throat. “Just, you know… past-Trixie.”
I nodded. I rolled on to my back and looked up at her. That beautiful, careworn face shined back at me as the sun set behind her. She smiled and the world felt whole again.
