> Sunflower Seeds > by Rune Soldier Dan > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Manehatten Omniconvention (Rarity, Fluttershy, Spike, SoL, NUUUURDS) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Manehatten was… ‘eclectic’ on the best of days, but that was exactly what made it special. A city in a never-ending renaissance of invention and progress, the place one naturally turned to find the cresting wave of The Next Big Thing. To a fashionista, it was the holy land. Rarity’s store there actually lost money on the obscene rent, but the publicity and anticipation it evoked made Manehatten a keystone in her growing business. The train door opened. She pranced out alongside her companions, a song in her throat that died before she hit the pavement. The billboards had changed, with endless movie and Princess-Cola ads replaced by posted itineraries and sword-swinging stallions. The mix of hobos and dilettantes were gone, and in their place was an army of ponies in black T-shirts and cartoonish costumes. Vendors and carts crowded the streets, shouting out their wares: foam swords, ‘health potion’ energy drinks, and more black T-shirts. And dice. So many dice. Couldn’t one have enough dice? “Darlings.” Her nonplussed voice arrested the other two. Spike’s excitement, at least, was understandable. That Fluttershy clearly felt the same – with a high eeeeeee building in her like a tea kettle – was the surprise. “You said there was a fashion show.” “Right! A costume contest.” Spike blurted. “It’s so great that you’re here, Rarity! The Manehatten Omniconvention only happens every other year. Look – over there you can put on stickers and swim through a dice vat and keep all the ones that get stuck! And there’s a boxing match where the Asuka and Rei fans can continue their endless war.” “I’m so happy you decided to come with us,” Fluttershy said demurely. Ah, yes. Spike said something about ‘a dress-up contest’ and Rarity had latched on with both hooves. She really needed to stop zoning out when her friends talked. Well, she could check on the store while she was here. With pressed lips and a flat expression, Rarity marched resolutely through the crowd while her friends ‘ooohd’ and ‘ahhhhd’ to each side. Neighponese cartoons, superheroes, board games… Spike’s enthusiasm at least made sense. He was a child, after all, and this was kid’s stuff. What an entire city plus Fluttershy saw in it she couldn’t fathom. Also… Suri Polomare? Rarity’s head snapped to the side, watching her one-time rival pose in what was admittedly an expertly-made Saddle Rager outfit – turquoise suit and mask, purple scarf, flower-themed bracelets. She was a ‘one-time’ rival because Rarity’s career had long since left Suri’s in the dust, thank you very much. Perhaps cosplay was her niche. Hopefully Suri would do well, specialize in it, and thus be removed from Rarity’s orbit forever. It took Rarity an extra block or so to realize her friends were still walking alongside. “Darlings, you don’t need to come with me. I’m going to check in with Coco. Business never sleeps, and all.” “We’re going there, too!” Fluttershy squeaked happily, rearing back to clap her hooves twice. “I need to pick up my costume.” “Costume,” Rarity said, not quite as a question. Fluttershy bobbed her head. “Oh, yes! Miss Pommel made my cosplay for the contest. It’s going to be incredible, see, Spike will be Humdrum which is canonically appropriate because Humdrum and Saddle Rager have a spin-off series where they...” “Saddle Rager?” Rarity asked tightly. Fluttershy gave her patented adorable little ‘squee.’ “Yes! I’ll be Saddle Rager and...” Rarity tuned her out, though this time she had a good excuse. A bad feeling, which surely was misplaced. She had passed multiple Saddle Rager costumes on the way – it was not so strange that Suri wore one herself. Surely, just a coincidence. Surely. Surely enough, they arrived at the boutique to find Coco utterly distraught. The storefront had changed for the Omnicon, now highlighting ‘One Bit’ and ‘Neighruto’ outfits which left Rarity annoyed until she saw the literal pile of money behind the counter. None of this alas was of comfort to Coco, bawling so hard that Fluttershy began crying in sympathy. “I thought she had turned a new leaf!” Coco wailed. “Suri came in, but was very nice to me. We talked about the new Celestia’s School for Gifted Superheroes season, she asked if I had anything for it in the back, and when I returned she… I…” The poor thing buried her face in her hooves. “I saw her admiring the Saddle Rager and said it was for your friend, Rarity! This is all my fault!” “No, it is hers,” Rarity said blandly, no to avail. Coco kept weeping, now embraced by Fluttershy. Spike sat on the counter with his head bowed. “I guess that takes us out of the contest, huh?” Of course not. The answer was obvious, though Rarity waited for a moment to admit it. She made tea, took a sip. Closed her eyes and silently prayed no one would ever learn what came next. Making a cosplay would be a double blow if word spread – the fashion world would mock her, and others might ask her to make more. “Let me see the sketch.” Coco fetched it at once, sped by sudden hope. Rarity studied the drawing and notes, swirling the tea while Fluttershy watched from over her shoulder. She felt, rather than saw, Fluttershy open her mouth, inhale, then snap it shut. “Speak, Fluttershy.” “Nothing,” Fluttershy mumbled. “It’s fine.” “I said speak.” Inhale… “The turquoise mask should be purple like the scarf because her miniseries with Humdrum didn’t occur until after she changed costumes during her adventure on the moon, she should have yellow butterfly bracelets because in the Doctor Darn arc she changed from the flowers after learning to control her anger, and the turquoise should look more blue than green because the manga spin-off drew it that way and it was so popular the artists made it permanent.” Entirely reasonable, all told. “On it. Coco, the supplies. You two, come back in half an hour.” The others gazed at her in shock and admiration, with Spike speaking for them all. “You’ll really be done by then?” Rarity downed her tea in one gulp. “Yes darling, I am that good.” “And the winner of the Manehatten Omnicon cosplay contest is… the dynamic duo off on their own kid-friendly adventure, Fluttershy and Spike as Saddle Rager and Humdrum!” The crowd cheered. Except for Rarity, who sipped a new cup of tea, and Suri Polomare, who seethed beside her. “Why!?” the mare hissed, grinding her hooves into a black T-shirt on the ground. Rarity smiled vaguely as her friends received their prize – a barrel full of dice – and did not turn her head. “Turquoise is a complimentary color for gray, who I’m told the character is, and yellow. It does not go bad with your own pink, but the purple in your scarf and hair makes it all clash horribly.” Sip. “Also the outfit has holes for pegasus wings, you idiot.” “So?” Suri snapped. “Saddle loses her wings in issue 134, duh! I would have won for sure if the judges knew the first thing about 30 year-old comics!” “Sweet Celestia, I’m in the eye of the storm. Good-bye.” And with that, Rarity sauntered off. Overall an unpleasant, stressful day… yet she found a spring in her step as she walked. Children’s stuff, yes, but it made her friends so happy. She slowed, and turned around. Trotted back to them as officials hauled their loot to the hotel. What better way to spend a trip to Manehatten than with her friends? “Alright, darlings,” Rarity announced, nose to the air. “Where do we go next?” > The Last Run of Starlight Glimmer (Starlight, horror(?), uwu) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The last few feeble rays of Autumn light dwindled to darkness, and Starlight ran. Into the gloom, through the once-cheery forest as its bright colors turned to black and silvery damp. Fallen leaves clung to her hooves, the ground beneath churned and muddy and darkly indistinct. Only the outlines of bare trees kept her on the path. Her eyes strained on the mere few steps ahead of her, desperately wary for any stump or hole. She couldn’t trip. If she went down, she’d never get up. Her hooves splashed into wet spots and crunched where the leaves were dry. Deaf to anything around or behind her, almost blind. Cooling air tickled her nose and where the lines of sweat creased her neck and flanks. All else was so hot. Aching, hammered breaths wheezed like expanding brass within her chest, slowing and weighing her, dragging her inevitably towards the ground. The siren song – stop, fall, rest. Just for a moment… just to catch her breath… No sound but from her own gallop and the wind in her ears. Were they still behind her? Silly, of course they were. A thin branch plucked her ear as she went by. Starlight lacked the breath to even yelp, plunging on without a break in her stride. Then another. She bowed her head and barreled on. Was the path getting more narrow? Had she veered off it entirely? The trees seemed to loom close and irregular, grasping out with their naked limbs. One entered her downward vision, directly to her fore. Starlight blindly veered left and continued to run. Was this a normal part of the path? The Whitetail Woods were so close to Ponyville – why had Starlight never run here before? Even a light jog, or study of the paths to give her the barest sense of direction. She was a lazy pony at heart, only studying or practicing what she found fun. Why do any kind of exercise when she could just zap herself anywhere? THIS WAS WHY! And now it was too late… Her ears pricked up. Over the rustle and splash of her hooves and the wind dashing past and the throb of hot lifeblood squeezing through her body in beat after beat after beat, Starlight heard the crunch of a hoof on leaves, not twenty paces behind her. Reach the forest’s edge. That was all. Her friends would see, surely at least someone from the town would see. Presuming she hadn’t made a wrong turn or gone off the path entirely. Maybe she was going deeper into the woods. Maybe this was… punishment. Starlight knew she got off easy after so many crimes. Twilight and her friends could forgive the unforgivable. Perhaps there were powers in the universe which did not. Her heart, aching for so long now, felt to be pulling back on its many veins, choking her from the inside. Slowing her legs, forcing them to an irregular stumble. She righted her pace, mouth open with silent breaths, but the heart fought back. The lope and push of her legs shrunk, and grew no faster. A voice yelled from somewhere. Ahead, behind? Direction and words were drowned by the hot blood pounding through her ears. Somehow, though, she could clearly hear the trot of her pursuer. It slowed, letting her pull ahead. A whimper broke Starlight’s throat as dark shapes came to view before her. Suddenly there was light, if only a little. The trees ended abruptly, leaving Luna’s clear sky twinkling above her. The shapes in front cavorted madly, prancing and shouting and giving whistles shriller than any bird. The trot behind her grew silent. Its duty was done – Starlight had been herded directly where she was supposed to be. She was finished. Almost. Though her motions were still sprinting, the speed was of a jog rapidly decaying to a walk. Yet she pressed on, right for the shapes and the banner above them. Stumble. Don’t fall. Don’t give up. Starlight corrected and kept running. All the way beneath the black and white checkered banner and a few steps past it to be safe. Okay, now she could fall. Starlight threw herself sideways upon the ground, managing to heave out two words on her way down. “Never again!” One of the shapes moved closer, resolving in the moonlight to a familiar purple alicorn. Twilight Sparkle held down a cup of water for her, beaming. “Congratulations, Starlight!” The blood in Starlight’s ears finally began to recede, unveiling the sounds of the world: Twilight’s friends cheering and congratulating her, and Rainbow Dash putting two feathers in her mouth to whistle like the damned. Starlight took the water in her magic and poured it over her lips, her sideways mouth missing most of it. Fluttershy squee’d, clip-clapping her front hooves together. “Oh, how wonderful! You finished your first Running of the Leaves festival. You must be so proud.” ‘Proud’ was nowhere near Starlight’s dictionary right now. She pulled her head up enough to take a better drink. “Yeah, she finished...” Rainbow’s scraggly voice trickled from the other side. “Dead last.” “Dead-dead last.” The soft trod of Applejack’s hooves caught up behind Starlight. She had reached the end hours ago and circled back to help the slowpokes along. Then circled back again for Starlight. Applejack turned her head, seeing no one but their gang. “I’m guessing the mayor and all went home?” “It’s nighttime, Applejack,” Rainbow snorted. “You know it.” A light ‘hmph’ rang out from Rarity. “And I suppose you two have never placed last?” That shut them up. Starlight opened her mouth to speak, closed it as Pinkie set off a party cannon, then tried again. “Never again.” “You’ll do better next time.” Twilight smiled sweetly. “The important thing is that you did your best.” “Twilight, I know you view me as a peer but you girls are twenty-five, constantly running around the globe, and range from ‘fit’ to ‘professional athlete’ to ‘borderline demigod.’” Twilight winced and twitched her wings. “I’m not a demigod.” “I was talking about Pinkie but sure. Meanwhile, I’m forty-one, fat-assed, and float myself one block to the candy store if it’s too hot out. I was willing to try this...” She caught ‘pagan earth pony bullshit’ in her throat. “...Holiday, but I’ll cheer you on from the finish line next time.” Twilight’s eyes were soft and bright in the moonlight. She smiled without condemnation and pat Starlight on the shoulder. “That’s okay. I’m proud of you for giving it a try.” She turned away, helping her friends pack up the drinks and banner. Starlight laid another few seconds, pondering her own feelings. She felt… disappointed. In herself. Super-mage Starlight, throwing a tantrum over a little exercise? She stood, slowly but easily. Her recovering body was sore, but it somehow felt amazing. If her lungs felt like brass before and weighed her down, now the brass was turning to clouds, pulling her up with a remarkable feeling of energy. ‘This wasn’t so bad,’ Starlight thought. The Starlight of five or thirty minutes ago would have thrown something at her, but that Starlight was gone. A little practice, a little preparatory exercise. Weekly jogs in the woods, which were quite idyllic in the daytime. She’d get herself into a healthier routine, not just for next year but to lead a better life in general. And then when Autumn came again, she’d run the leaves and it would be a fun surprise for all who heard her griping. And next time… she wouldn’t come in last. Starlight stuck to her new exercise regimen for three days, and next year came in last once more. Although she did finish before sundown that time, and Twilight was proud of her. > Home Invasion (fanfic for 'Principal Celestia Hunts the Undead') > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Three repetitions of nails on chalkboard forced open Sunset’s eyes. She groped blindly for her phone, shivering as the noise came again. A swipe left turned it off and revealed the time: Two o’clock in the Celestia-damned morning. The noise came courtesy of an app from Twilight Sparkle, and had in fact been chosen deliberately. Grating enough to jolt her awake, soft enough to not be heard beyond her door. All tied in to the home security software Twilight wired into their doors and windows, keyed to sense the supernatural as best as science could manage. Sunset and her family had never actually suffered a home invasion before, despite their profession as monster hunters. But there was always the threat, the worry. Enough so that when Twilight offered her experimental evil-magic detectors as a housewarming gift no one even considered saying ‘no.’ Silently, quickly, Sunset rolled out of her blankets. She pulled her lock box from beneath the bed and removed her precious pistol. Her hands trembled as she loaded, just a little. Really, they were going to be fine. Everyone in the house could take care of themselves. Everyone… except one. A silent text from Luna. ‘Plan, go.’ They formed a game-plan for this long ago. Torch and Sunset would confront the intruder, Luna and Ember would creep outside and ambush any watchers or second wave, Celestia… well, her move was obvious: protect the most precious thing in the house. In slippers and her red night-robe, Sunset crept out of her room. Theirs was a new house, with a humming air conditioner and minimal creaks. With luck she’d get the jump on their assailant. Especially since Torch’s heavy trod came out from the opposite side, where the master bedroom laid. Unintentionally, it was a perfect combination: the big lug created the obvious threat, while Sunset sneaked up from behind. She held her phone in one hand. Twilight’s sensors said the blip came in through the dining room, right down the hall from Sunset. She entered with weapon raised. A light breeze shuffled the curtains, with darkness and streetlights beyond. No idea how the window opened – that question could wait. Sunset glanced nervously outside, then focused. Aunt Luna could handle out there. She had her own job. Dark curtains rustled in the living room, too. She could see them from the open doorway, black with only dim moonlight filtering from the outside. ...Right in the middle of the room. Not curtains at all, but some cross between a robe and black coat Sunset recalled from her history lessons on China. A round rimmed hat sat atop the head, pinned with a parchment scrap with odd symbols drawn upon it. The figure was very tall and thin, standing perfectly erect with the thick clothes draped around it like a coat rack. The back was to her. Coarse black hair seemed in the moonlight to merge with its clothes. Sunset leveled the pistol… then paused. Maybe it was friendly, or a mundane thief. Both felt laughable, but Celestia had drilled discipline into her over and over. Don’t shoot until you know – you don’t want to be a murderer. Besides, she had the drop. “Hands up, buddy. Don’t try and turn.” It glanced back, though obediently remained facing forwards. The face was white, knotted, and ugly. It took Sunset an extra second to realize the color came from some fungus covering its skin. Sunset aimed, but the shoulders shrugged. The voice emerged calmly, with a thick accent Sunset could not place. “My arms do not raise. Rigor mortis has frozen them in place.” “I’ve got him, Torch!” Sunset called out, then added, “Watch out for any more!” “I am quite alone,” the stranger replied. “And I have no quarrel with you. My name is Colonel Cheng, humble soldier of the Qing Dynasty, although I am not here in that role.” “Qing Dynasty?” Human history was not Sunset’s strong suit, but she’d gotten better. “I thought they were wiped out.” “You are the expert, of course.” Sunset growled, pocketing the phone to brace her pistol. “Fair, but shut up. You’re telling me what you’re doing in my house right now or I’m spending the next hour scrubbing your blood out of our hardwood floors.” “It is simple,” Cheng said. With her eyes adjusting to the dark, Sunset could see he stood on tip-toes in soft white shoes. “I am the one who turned Abacus Cinch into a vampire. In our tradition, she is my daughter.” His filmy eyes blinked once. “I am merely here to settle the debt. Please excuse me.” Torch stomped into view, shotgun raised. Sunset’s eyes glanced to him. Faster than she could blink or pull the trigger, Cheng’s leg wheeled back in a spinning kick, knocking her weapon to the ground. Torch aimed, but Cheng danced to the side, ruining the shot, then sprang forwards all without bending his legs. Cheng’s frail form hit Torch like a sledgehammer, though the huge man took it with a grunt. Torch swung a meaty fist inwards, catching Cheng’s face with silver-ringed knuckles. The vampire bounced back with the blow, taking only a thick burn. With legs and arms still straight, Cheng hopped side to side once, twice, then lunged. Torch punched again, but this time he wasn’t the target – Cheng nimbly dodged and sped past him to the other hall. Torch gave chase with a furious, almost draconic roar. Sunset fumbled for her gun and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Mom, watch out!” Cheng glanced into the master bedroom but never slowed, quickly hopping onward. He could smell his true objective all the way through the house. The delectable, pure blood… of a very small child. Two doors, and one hung loose to reveal a bathroom. He swung open the other and forced his rigid mouth into a smirk. Pictures of rainbows and suns with happy faces adorned the walls, surrounding a low crib. The noise had woken the child, but strangely not panicked it – she stood in her bed, leaning against the crib bars for balance. Green eyes peered from their creamy orange face with curiosity instead of fear. Another three seconds – the fools would be too late. Seize the child, then out the window. Celestia had slain Cheng’s daughter, so it was only right that she furnish the replacement. Cheng hopped forward, arms outstretched, focused on speed alone. A last mistake. Someone sprung from the side as he reached the room’s center, colliding just as he left the ground. Off-balance, Cheng was shoved to the wall. He turned, seeing pink skin and flowing green and blue hair. Normally it was suicide to grapple a vampire, but Celestia had fought his type before. Unable to bend arms or legs, he could not wrestle with her hand around his throat. He hissed as Celestia rammed a wooden stake into his gut, then turned it up and pushed to find the heart. And Colonel Cheng was no more. Torch got to work cleaning the blood, doggedly telling the others to “Go to bed, I got this.” Luna started helping with the walls, grumbling that she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight anyway and reminding everyone that it was she who killed Cinch, not Celestia. Stupid vampires. The kids tried to help, were shooed away, and eventually compromised on a well-armed stroll around the grounds to search for anything more. Celestia wasn’t even allowed to do that. She washed the blood from her arm, changed pajamas, and then had a bigger job. She knelt down before little Sunny Starscout, meeting the green eyes. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Sunny stared to her, saying nothing. Of course, a two-year old child would have a hard time answering the question anyway. Celestia picked her up and took her to bed, shushing needlessly and declaring it a ‘Mommy Sleepover’ night. They cuddled together, the bed still warm from Torch’s body, and it was strangely Celestia who fell asleep first. Sunny remained staring, concentrating on her mother with strange focus before resting her head on Mommy’s strong arm. In the days that followed, everyone was relieved little Sunny proved no worse for her encounter with the undead. She remained as bubbly, hyperactive, affectionate, and talkative as any young toddler should be, slowly forming her identity in a very unconventional, but loving family. That this night would play a special moment in that formation was something they would never learn. No one thought much when Sunny started drawing the next day, working happily with her crayons. It was rare for her to sit still for so long, but the sleep-deprived adults in her life could only sigh in relief and enjoy the break. Like all her drawings it was a mess of colors without any clear shape, and nor could she yet describe it. But she saw it clearly in her very young mind: The green and blue of Mommy’s hair, and pink for her face. Orange for Sunny Starscout herself. Both smiling, surrounded by black-crayon bad guys with sticks inside of them. And lots and lots of red. > Sunstone (Maud x Celestia, sexual reference) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- All good things must come to an end. In fact, they did not last very long. That was the way of things, and Maud had learned this from an early age. Maud was quiet, serious, and stone-faced, barely able to express even the grandest emotion. She couldn’t laugh – somehow, her mouth just didn’t move that way. But deep within her solid core, her feelings burned as hot and cold as any pony. Loneliness, love, lust. She fell for Mud Brier for being like her, a kind soul who couldn’t express it. Fraggle Rock for their shared love of geology and those adorable freckles. Sunburst because he was so sweet and shy when he asked her out. And others. Good ponies, all of them. What came next wasn’t their fault. They saw past her endless frown, treated her with all the kindness she could ever want. But Maud was a pony with needs, and she was as… ‘different’ physically as she was emotionally. Every now and then an earth pony came out like her: hooves literally hard enough to shatter boulders, and the muscles in the rest of her body were like stones themselves. Immovable, solid, and heavy, bruising and crushing any partner as soon as they tried to get intimate. Sunburst was very nice when she knocked out his tooth – Fraggle less-so, not that Maud could blame her. Mud Brier even tried to work around the issue, going ‘on top’ and mounting her. But then… well. Thankfully, he recovered. It didn’t work out. It never did, never could. Other ponies were too brittle… no, they couldn’t be blamed. Maud was too much of a freak. But she was a freak with needs. She kept trying, kept wondering if this time would be different. Kept lying to herself. She wasn’t sure what drew her to Sunny Daze that quiet evening at the tavern. With that blue streak in her blonde hair, the pale yellow coat with the shaggy feathers, the pegasus gave an impression of being rebellious and free. A pony open to ‘experimenting,’ perhaps. Perhaps more than that, she was quiet and alone – keenly listening to the hum and buzz around her, but never involved. She seemed startled when Maud approached her, but that was the usual. The boring monotone of Maud’s voice threw off everyone at first, doubly so when Maud asked to buy her a drink. The pair chatted over salt licks and juice – Sunny Daze was a wanderer, chasing part-time work wherever the winds blew her. Strangely, she was fantastically educated. Maud caught herself monologuing about volcanoes – her usual date-ending mistake – but opened her eyes to find the mare listening with rapt attention. What’s more, Sunny had insights of her own and talked about past eruptions and their effects on soil and ponies. Sunny proved more a historian than geologist, but the shared bridge was enough to move them to another tavern when that one closed. Sediments and agriculture, mining and trade, quarries and industry. All more closely linked than Maud had ever guessed. It wasn’t often a date broadened her knowledge of her own passion. Neither had intended to stay out so late. They got a hotel room together, chastely sharing a bed as they fell asleep. Maud was surprised when Sunny decided to tag along on the next day, joining Maud’s survey of the Grand Galloping Canyon. Silver and uranium lurked within – of course the park would never be mined, but such things were good to know. They told a story Maud was happy to share of formations and compressions ten-million years in the making. Sunny Daze seemed in awe at the time-frame, letting slip that it made ‘even’ her feel young. Maud didn’t learn what that meant for another three days. Three wonderful days. The days themselves spent in observation and study, with a smart and curious companion. A different restaurant every evening, followed by a different bar. The same hotel. They kissed on the second night. Sunny Daze took Maud’s rock-hard lips without flinching. Then the third night they had a bit more to drink. Sunny was clingy as they walked home, nibbling on Maud’s ear, brushing her wing where Maud’s tail met her butt. She didn’t seem to mind Maud’s weight when they collapsed to the bed, nor the nibble of Maud’s own teeth which could chew rocks. Not even when Maud began biting lower. Not even when Maud grabbed her and… Well. The night was good. So very, very good. So good that the manager gave them two warnings, and threatened to throw them out on the third. All good things came to an end. For Maud, faster than most. Sunny Daze was not obviously bruised the next morning, nor did she whine of aches or sores. But she was awkward, shy, and distant. A kind soul, like Sunburst. Trying to figure out how to tell Maud that it wouldn’t work out. She was too heavy, too hard. Maud was a freak, though they always danced around that part. Maud worked alone that day, but Sunny surprised her with a return that afternoon. There was a restaurant nearby that served rock soup. They could get it to-go and eat overlooking the canyon. A last date to break things off clean. That was nice of Sunny. They ate at a little picnic table and gossiped without heart. Awkwardness hung, familiar and mocking for Maud. She wished Sunny would come out and say it, stop stalling the inevitable. Her heart roared in frustration, but of course her face remained calm. Finally, the beautiful pegasus bowed her head. “I’m sorry.” “No need,” Maud said. It wasn’t her fault Maud was a freak. “There is,” Sunny said. Her lovely pink eyes found Maud’s. “I feel like… like I’ve been using you. I did use you. You deserve to know the truth.” Not quite what Maud expected. She stared, expressionless yet mystified, as Sunny went on. “I have a condition. I’m very… oh, that’s not the truth at all, is it? But I don’t want to transform all melodramatic and…” A nervous, high little giggle fled out. “I don’t suppose you would believe me if I said I was Princess Celestia?” It took Maud a few seconds to realize that was an actual question she was supposed to answer. Even after that, the best she could do was, “Um.” “Of course. I’ll just do it.” Gold magic sprang up at Sunny’s forehead, then across her entire body. It flashed like a miniature sun – Maud shielded her eyes, then opened them. And there was Princess Celestia. Supreme ruler of the kingdom, though she would ever deny it. Looking oddly naked without her regalia, looming over Maud like a nervous swan. The same pink eyes looked to Maud with a shy little smile. For once, Maud’s trouble with emotions proved an advantage. Half of her wanted to flee, the other half to bow. Instead, she blinked. “May I explain?” Celestia said. Maud nodded. Celestia rustled her wings with quiet agitation. “I take this form every now and then to walk among ponies, that I may never lose sight of what truly matters in Equestria. I listen to their fears, watch their troubles, ask for solutions which may be unseen from high Canterlot. It is not uncommon for ponies to approach me as you did – I chose that form myself, and in my vanity chose to be slim and attractive. I would make friends, but never bedded them. Truth be told, it is…” She paused, swallowed, blushed. Studiously looking away, she went on. “That is, I have… trouble with all that. I still feel things as an alicorn – unbreakable, towering, and huge compared to my ponies. Even the most potent lovemaker is too… small. Too soft. I can barely feel gentle caresses, I have to guess when they are… are inside m… um, you know.” She stumbled over her words, speaking on quickly. “But I did not stay just for that! I enjoyed our time greatly, Maud. I know politics, trade, and history. How that all mingles with geology is something I had never known, and now that I do I feel strangely bettered. I feel young again, knowing the petrified log we sat on is so incomprehensibly older than I, and I have not felt young in a long time. I learned from you, grew from you. Took in the wonderful sights of the Grand Galloping Canyon with such a friend as you, and only came to love it more from your lessons of how it formed.” “And last night…” Celestia trailed off with a squeak, folding her wings over her face to hide. “We touched, and I knew you were hard and mighty. I let myself wonder, fantasize. And… and it was everything I wanted. Needed. So hard, so strong… it hurt so wonderfully. I had given up on ever knowing carnal lust again and now that I have it I don’t…” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She looked once more to Maud. Maud blinked. Inside, Maud was laughing, crying, and holding her breath. “Maud,” Celestia said, steadier still. Her hoof reached out and touched Maud’s. “I am sorry for the deception. And in truth, I can promise you little. I will often be busy. I will keep things discreet, not for any shame but because I would not have my romance photographed and gossiped upon. And I have baggage, and fears, and kinks, and morning breath, and all the little things that will destroy your image of me as a pure and majestic ruler.” Maud drowned in the pink pools of those eyes, hanging on her every word. “And you must not feel pressured,” Celestia spoke on needlessly. “You must know that you may refuse or dump me without the slightest fear of retaliation. A-and you must also know I can’t simply give out wealth or fav…” She stopped abruptly as a grey hoof reached up and bumped her nose. Another pony would have gotten a bruised snoot. Not Celestia. All she felt was the boop. Celestia gazed past the hoof, down the rock-solid leg to Maud’s face, wearing the tiniest, most beautiful smile Celestia had ever seen. “Should I call you Celestia, or Sunny?” Maud withdrew the hoof to let her answer. Celestia rubbed her nose self-consciously. “Um, Celestia in private, Sunny Daze when I’m in that form. I-if it’s too much I understand, or you could take some time to think about it and…” “Celestia.” Celestia gulped. “Um, yes?” Maud’s smile remained, unyielding as stone. “How much more time do you have?” “I’m not expected back until next week.” Celestia shuffled her wings again. “Um, you?” “I’ll be here for months.” “I can’t quite do that but I have Sundays, sometimes Fridays… a-and of course I can really fly anywhere within an hour so I can easily…” “Celestia.” Celestia caught herself again. Her left front hoof remained glued to Maud’s right. Maud’s smile creaked downwards. Only her own disability kept it all from her face – the fearful whirlwind inside, the terrible knowledge that things might be about to get better. It had been so easy to accept she was a lonely freak with no real chance. So hard and frightening to hope… “Be my girlfriend,” Maud said in the same dull monotone as ever. “Please.” Celestia wasn’t as good at hiding. She sniffed hard and rubbed her eyes. “Yes,” she breathed, and leaned down into the waiting kiss. It wasn’t enough. They clambered around the table and tackled each other to the ground. Moans and squeaks came as they rolled around the rocky earth, reckless meters from the canyon’s edge. Nothing too indecent, not for now. Not until they watched the sunset together, and night’s cool dark shielded them from sight.