Chapters HIGHER
Rainbow Dash reached for the sun.
The pegasus shot upwards, wings whirring in a blur, carrying her higher and higher into the cerulean blue sky. Ponyville fell away below her, in moments going to a size she could cover with one hoof. Dash grinned. There was nothing better than this. The wind ruffling her coat and mane, the air both pushing at her and giving her lift, and the sun as bright and beautiful as the one who raised it every morning. Even the slipstream ruffling her muzzle and between her teeth felt, well, awesome.
One thing that Rainbow Dash was yet to conquer, however, was gravity. She was not lighter than air, after all. Twilight Sparkle would use complicated mathematics to explain lift coefficients and thrust-to-weight ratios, but all that Dash knew was that she could not go straight up forever. What came up sooner or later must fall. Dash felt her speed fall off; she knew she could go higher if she strained herself, but this was just for fun and there was no reason to push it. A moment before she would’ve stopped in a hover, Dash let gravity take over, curved over on one wing, and dropped over in a slow stall. She folded her wings back and dived, letting her speed build higher and higher. Now the ground rushed up at Dash, but she felt no fear. To onlookers—and as usual, she attracted plenty—it looked as if Dash was in a suicidal power dive, but she was in full control. She chose her moment, almost unconciously, let her wings out a little to slow her down, and pulled out of the dive with fifty feet to spare.
Now Dash roared over the ground so low her passage rippled the grass and blew away dandelions. She passed the crowd of onlookers, sending a quick wave to Pinkie Pie, who jumped up in down, and Fluttershy, who could barely watch. Her attention, however, was on a orange pegasus filly: Scootaloo sat in wide-eyed wonder as her idol flashed past. Dash threw in a barrel roll for Scootaloo’s entertainment and her own, then kicked upwards again. Out of the corner of one eye, she saw Scootaloo leap into the air in a vain attempt to follow her, but her stubby, undeveloped wings were still too small to give her more than a long hop. She’s getting there, though, Dash thought happily. Her protégé was working hard every day, and as soon as her wings caught up to her ambition, Scootaloo was going to be hard to beat. For everyone but Rainbow Dash, of course, but some things were a given.
As she headed skyward again, Dash knew she was more or less just wasting time. She wasn’t really trying to put on an airshow or impress Scootaloo, though that was a pleasant bonus. She was actually supposed to be training Twilight Sparkle, who was uncharacteristically late.
“Dammit,” Twilight Sparkle growled below earshot. She had overslept, which almost never happened—except when certain friends that would remain unnamed, like Pinkie Pie, kept her up most of the night with a slumber party. Of course Pinkie was up with the dawn, hopping out of the library in search of muffins and sugar, waking up Twilight when she accidentally slammed the door behind her. After only five hours of so-called rest, Twilight noticed she was running late for her thrice-weekly flight training session with Rainbow Dash…who was not the easiest of taskmasters.
Flying came natural to pegasi. It did not, however, come so easily to alicorns, unless they had centuries of practice, like Princesses Celestia and Luna, or tended towards perfection, like Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Twilight had neither trait, but she had a willpower borne of years of fanatical studying. Twilight found that all the books and studying she could do did not prepare her for actual flight. Certainly she had wowed the crowd at Canterlot on her coronation, flying upwards and doing loop-de-loops, but the crowd had not seen her nearly crash into the mountains at high speed, or fall flailing nearly to her death before she was rescued by Rainbow Dash and Luna. Nor did the crowd see her desperately trying to learn how to control her wings, or do anything more complicated than hover and fly in straight lines. Even that required concentration, whereas pegasi like Dash could do it as easily as walking—more easily, it seemed. Derpy Hooves was a better flyer than Twilight, even if she seemed incredibly random.
Making things immeasurably worse was that Twilight’s newly acquired wings seemed to have a mind of their own. She was trotting down the streets of Ponyville, headed for the glen near Fluttershy’s home where they practiced, and instead of a good steady pace that would allow her to make up the time lost, Twilight found her hooves leaving the ground until she would simply stop in place, hovering aimlessly as her wings decided it would be faster to fly than trot. This was worse than her wings suddenly deploying in sleep or at virtually any other time they wished, elicting gales of laughter from Rainbow Dash, who mercilessly kidded her about having ‘wingboners,’ whatever the hay that meant.
Twilight saw Dash climbing steadily upwards, then roll over and dive for the ground. Well, she thought morosely, at least Dashie’s having fun .
Rainbow Dash knew she was pulling out of the dive a fraction late; she hoped to level out twenty feet or so above ground, but it was more like five. Easy, Dash , she admonished herself, let’s not fly into the ground. That won’t look too good. Still, making a high-speed pass at five feet was, she estimated, about fifty percent cooler than the normal twenty. The ground flashed beneath her; behind her was a trail of loose grass, blown into the air by her slipstream. Dash left a trail across the ground. She thought about pulling up a bit, then grinned to herself. No, this was too fun. In fact, maybe she should drop to two feet—
Suddenly, Scootaloo was directly in her path.
Both filly and adult pegasi had made a mistake: Rainbow Dash was too low and too fast, and Scootaloo, in her exuberance, had trotted forward to get a better look at her idol. Dash was presented with a decision to be made in half a second: continue forward and collide with Scootaloo, or try and turn.
Dash exerted every muscle in her wings and body to throw herself to one side. At the velocity she was traveling, she still should have blindsided Scootaloo, but somehow, through magic, fate, or sheer determination, the most the filly got was a faceful of grass and blown off her hooves by the shock of Dash’s passing. Dash’s left wing brushed the ground and three blue feathers flew off, but she made the turn. Did it! Dash thought with a smile. That was something, a high-speed, low level turn. Let’s see Spitfire do that—
Then Dash saw the tree rushing to meet her. Her turn had taken her directly towards an outlying grove of the Everfree Forest.
There was no time, but Dash tried to make an even tighter turn. She failed. Dash felt branches slash at her legs and another hit her hard in the chest, before the main trunk blotted out her vision. Her last thought was This is going to be hard on Scoot.
Twilight was nearly at the glade when she heard a collective gasp turn into a cheer, then turn into screams of horror. She picked up speed, this time able to get her wings under control, fold them back against her body, and begin running. She saw a crowd of ponies running towards a line of trees, and rapidly caught up to them. The crowd slowed, then stopped, and Twilight forced her way through.
The first thing she saw was the broken tree. Something had hit it head on at high velocity, enough to almost snap it in half. Then she looked down and saw Rainbow Dash.
Dash lay on the ground, not moving. Pinkie Pie was already at her side, but Pinkie had stopped, unsure of what to do. Twilight saw blood streaming from Dash’s mane, then it appeared at her mouth in a pink froth. Her legs twitched in uncontrollable spasms, her breathing was rapid and labored. Pinkie glanced up at Twilight. “What…what’s going on?”
Twilight’s brain shifted into automatic. She was not a nurse, but she had read enough books to catalog Dash’s injuries: she’s got a concussion, maybe a fractured skull, and one of her lungs has collapsed. Her left wing is broken and she’s got a few cuts and bruises, but those aren’t dangerous. We need to get her to a hospital now, but we can’t move her in case her back is injured.
Twilight heard Fluttershy scream, the loudest she’d ever heard her friend do anything. “Pinkie,” Twilight ordered, “get Fluttershy out of here!” From her tone, Fluttershy was on the verge of utter panic, and it would give Pinkie something to do. Pinkie nodded once and quickly got between Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. Twilight spotted Derpy Hooves in the crowd. Derpy might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but she could be surprisingly fast. “Derpy! Get Dr. Stable! Now!” Stung into action, Derpy flew off towards Ponyville General Hospital nearly as fast as Rainbow Dash herself.
Twilight bent down to her friend. “Dash! Rainbow Dash! Are you all right?” She noticed that Dash’s eyes were half-open, blank, one of them clouded over. She did not know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good. “Speak to me, Dashie. Please.” There was no response. Think, Twilight! she yelled at herself. There must be something I can do. She reached forward a hoof, but then drew it back, knowing she couldn’t move Dash, not in her condition; it could make things worse. A healing spell, Twilight thought. She only knew the basics, but she could at least try. Twilight closed her eyes, concentrated, and her horn glowed with magical energy. She risked a squint, but other than straightening Dash’s wing slightly, the spell wasn’t doing much. Dash’s breathing was becoming labored. Twilight felt her eyes filling with tears and concentrated all the harder.
Rainbow Dash was dying before her eyes.
“Princess Twilight!” Twilight turned and saw Dr. Stable, along with two nurses. One of them, a stallion nearly as burly as Big Macintosh, pushed a gurney in front of him.
“Doctor,” Twilight said rapidly, “I think Rainbow Dash has a concussion, maybe a fractured skull—“
“I don’t know yet, Highness. Please excuse me.” Stable ran off, but not before Twilight noticed that the doctor’s face was a blank. That told her the situation was quite serious. Pinkie Pie, consoling a near-hysterical Fluttershy, glanced up at her, a look of terror on her face. Twilight trotted over. Softly, she said, “Fluttershy? Can you make sure Scootaloo gets home all right?” She motioned towards the filly, who sat alone in the field, in shock. Fluttershy looked over, nodded, dried her tears with a swipe of a hoof, and walked over to Scootaloo. “Pinkie Pie, find Applejack and Rarity and let them know what happened.”
“Okie dokie,” Pinkie replied. “Where are you going?”
“To find Spike. I need to get hold of Princess Celestia, now. I think we’re going to need her magic.”
“Okay. I’m on it.” Pinkie ran off towards the Carousel Boutique. Derpy hovered next to her. “I’ll find Applejack,” the pegasus said. She hesitated. “Will it be okay, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight smiled. “It’ll be fine, Derpy. Thanks.” It would have to be. It had always been. As Derpy flew off, Twilight gathered her own wings and headed towards the library.
One harried letter—written so quickly Twilight could only spellcheck it once—sent off by dragonfire, and Twilight was off to the hospital, Spike in tow. They were not halfway there when Spike belched out a scroll. I am on my way was the only words on it. Celestia could cover the distance between Canterlot and Ponyville in less than an hour. Twilight instantly felt better; Celestia would know what to do.
Inside a waiting room were all five of her closest friends. Applejack was pacing, unable to stay still. Fluttershy was matching her pace for pace; while the earth pony was silent, Fluttershy—to Twilight’s surprise—could not stop talking. She was chattering about nothing, talking about apples, the hibernation patterns of skunks, what kind of snakes were dangerous and which ones were friendly, Angel Bunny’s salads. Her voice was so soft Twilight could barely hear it. Pinkie was also quiet, which was also unusual, working on a puzzle, her brow beetled in thought. Rarity was constantly dabbing at her eyes with a monogrammed hankerchief; she smiled when Spike ran over and hugged her. She put a protective hoof around her friend.
“Princess Celestia’s on her way,” Twilight said. “How’s Rainbow?”
Applejack looked up. “Haven’t heard nuthin’. They’ve been in there awhile.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s nothing to worry about,” Fluttershy said in her usual near-whisper. “She was in the operating room an hour when she broke her wing.” She was about to say more, but her voice broke. Tears began forming at the corners of her eyes.
Applejack noticed instantly. “Now sugarcube, you don’t worry. Rainbow’s a tough cuss. She’ll pull through this. Heck, she’s been through worse—I cracked her in the noggin plenty o’ times. I knocked her cold as a wedge three months ago. Thought I’d killed the dumbass.” Now it was Applejack who couldn’t stop talking.
“Pinkie?” Twilight asked.
“I’m trying to figure out this puzzle, Twilight.” Twilight was not offended. Pinkie Pie was deeply worried; this was her way of dealing with it.
Rarity untangled herself from Twilight. She took her friend aside. “Twilight, Pinkie told me what happened—what I could make out, in any case. Is it really that bad?”
“It looked bad,” Twilight whispered. “I think Rainbow is really hurt. I think it’s going to be different this time. She’s not going to be spending two days in bed and be all right. I think we’re looking at a long stay. They might even move her to Canterlot.”
Rarity sighed. “And she’ll be positively insufferable in the meantime. When will Rainbow learn that she is pointed and not anointed…” Her voice trailed off as the doors to the operating room opened. Dr. Stable, his forelegs and torso swathed in doctor’s greens. He crooked a hoof at her, and Twilight trotted over. Her stomach turned to ice as she did so; if it was good news, Stable would be telling everyone. “Yes?”
Stable motioned her out of earshot. Everypony had stopped and was staring at them. “Princess—“
“Please, Doctor, it’s just Twilight.”
“All right…Twilight--”
She could not contain herself. “What’s wrong?”
Stable took a deep breath. “Rainbow Dash hit that tree at very high velocity. Pegasi bones are a little lighter than an earth pony’s or a unicorn’s—or an alicorn’s—but even the Princesses would be badly hurt by such a direct impact.”
“Rainbow’s run into cliffs before,” Twilight said.
“I know—I had to set her jaw once. But this is different. Rainbow hit the tree head-on. It did more than fractured her skull, unfortunately. That was bad enough, but there’s more, and it won’t be easy to hear.”
“Her lung?”
“No—that was a fairly easy fix. Your healing spell helped there. Rainbow’s breathing on her own. Her wings will heal well enough too—“
Twilight swallowed, knowing what Rainbow Dash’s greatest fear was. “Her spine…”
“Was cracked, but again, nothing very serious.” He held up a hoof before she could interrupt him again. “Twilight…Rainbow Dash burst a blood vessel. There was severe damage done to the brain. She’s suffered the equivalent to a massive stroke.” Stable bit his lower lip. Twilight knew that he must have done this many times before. “I’m so sorry, Twilight. We tried everything, but…” Suddenly he was looking past her. He bowed his head.
Twilight heard golden horseshoes clicking on stone. She turned and knelt in front of her mentor and friend. “Princess Celestia.”
Celestia’s face was open with sorrow. She folded her wings against her withers; from the slight sheen of sweat, she obviously had flown as fast as possible to get there. “Twilight.” She gave her student a brief hug, then turned to Stable. “Doctor. I heard what you said. May I go in?”
“Certainly.” He led her into the operating room. Twilight, glancing at her friends over her wings, followed. Stable did not stop her. He did ask that both princesses wash their hooves. His tone of voice said plainly: Celestia might be the ruler of Equestria, and Twilight a princess, but in his ward there were no rulers but Stable.
Twilight did not know what to expect. Two mare nurses stood watch over Rainbow Dash, but aside from the bandage around her head and the wrapped and stiff wing, Dash did not look all that different. Her breathing was slow, hesitant. Twilight found herself holding her breath as one breath went out, there was a pause, and another breath came in. A machine—a piece of pegasi magic—monitored her heart rate and her breathing. It looked very ragged.
Celestia stood next to the bed. She towered over it, her auroralike mane billowing past Dash’s skull. The princess closed her eyes and her horn glowed. Dash’s heart rate and breathing sped up, caught, and stabilized to normal. Twilight felt herself begin to grin like an idiot. It was going to be all right. Celestia, as usual, saved the day.
Her grin faded when she saw the expression on Celestia’s face. It was not her usual expression of quiet satisfaction, or even one of happy triumph. It was one of utter sadness. She and Stable exchanged a look, and Twilight knew that there would be no miracle today.
“It’s as I said,” the doctor said sadly. “We did all we could, but there’s too much damage. Rainbow—“ The doctor hesitated.
Twilight felt the ground collapsing beneath her hooves. She shook her head. “No. She’s still breathing. Princess, you’re making her breathe...” Her voice trailed off, and Twilight knew. Celestia’s magic was keeping Rainbow Dash’s body alive—but just the body.
“I am sorry, Twilight,” Celestia told her. “I thought…perhaps my magic could do something. But this is all I can do.”
“How…how long will your magic…”
“Indefinitely. But Twilight…it’s too late.”
Twilight forced herself to look at Rainbow Dash. You have to be still in there, Rainbow. You’re my friend. You’re the Element of Loyalty. We’ve taken on everything from Nightmare Moon to Discord. You can’t die. You’re breathing, your body is warm, I can feel it from here…
She turned to Stable. “There’s no hope? Nothing? Not a spell, or an artifact, or anything?”
“There is nothing more we can do, Princess Twilight.” He looked to Celestia, as did Twilight. Celestia hesitated, just for a moment. Then she turned away. For only the second time in her life, Twilight saw the most powerful pony in the world look lost.
With brutal logic, Twilight Sparkle knew what she had to do. “Somepony has to tell them,” she said, half to herself, half to Celestia and Stable. “I guess I volunteer.”
Twilight turned and walked out the door to the waiting room. She would be strong, as Rainbow Dash was strong. She would not cry. Rainbow would not cry. She stopped in front of her friends. Twilight tried to keep her expression blank. To her everlasting shame, Twilight knew her friends knew from her expression. She heard herself speak the words We have a decision to make and We have to let her go but they barely registered. Some disassociated part of Twilight’s brain knew that she was going into shock, but didn’t know how to stop it, or even if she should.
Yet the Elements of Harmony were in agreement.
They filed into the operating room, one at a time, until they surrounded Rainbow Dash’s bed. Applejack took off her hat and cradled it into the crook of her arm. She visibly fought back her emotions and failed. Rarity did not even attempt it. As Spike stroked her mane, she laid her head on Dash’s covers and cried. Fluttershy was on her hooves only because Pinkie was holding her up. Both of them were wracked by great heaving sobs. Twilight blinked back tears, but stayed resolute. It would be what Dash wanted.
Finally, Applejack looked up and met Celestia’s eyes. All silently agreed that it must be Rainbow Dash’s best friend that would make the final decision. She sighed. “Let ‘er go, Princess. Please, let ‘er fly.”
Celestia closed her eyes. The glow faded. Dash’s breath caught in her throat. For a horrible moment, Twilight thought she was going to watch her friend suffer. But then, Dash sighed, almost smiled, and her breath went out slowly. She settled into the bed. Her coat seemed to fade a little.
There was no second breath.
Applejack bowed her head and cried softly. Rarity and Pinkie bawled. Fluttershy buried her head in Celestia’s mane. They stood that way for a long while, then slowly, together, they left, until only Twilight remained. She leaned forward and kissed Dash’s rainbow mane. Then she stepped back and did what she thought Dash would do if their situation was reversed. She stood at attention, as she had seen the Wonderbolts do, and snapped off a salute Shining Armor would’ve been proud to call his own. She held the salute for a moment, then slowly brought her hoof down. She nodded at Dr. Stable, who had been silent the entire time. She nodded in thanks. There were no words to say and nothing more to do.
Rainbow Dash was dead.
Author's Note
I didn't write this story for shock value or the feels, or because I get a kick out of knocking off ponies. It's a very personal story for me.
I realize it's not for everyone.
It was a long walk home for Fluttershy, the longest walk she had ever made. Several times she stopped to cry; by the time her cottage came into view, Fluttershy wondered if she would ever cry again, or if her tear ducts were permanently dried up. The whole situation seemed so surreal. At any moment, Rainbow Dash would pop out of the clouds or the trees and laugh, telling Fluttershy that this was just a huge prank. Even though it would be the meanest prank ever, Fluttershy hoped this was true. When the bushes rustled near her house, her heart leapt, and she actually called out “Dashie?”
It was only a rabbit. The rabbit regarded her quizzically, confused that she didn't greet it as she did normally, then hopped off. Fluttershy fought back a sob, shook her mane violently to get the tears to stop, and made her way up the path. She reached up to push open the doorknob—
--and it became the head of Discord. “Hello, Fluttershy!”
Under normal circumstances, Fluttershy either would have leapt backwards a few feet with a shriek of terror, or would’ve at least gasped in surprise. Instead she merely sighed and opened the door. The knob reverted to its normal form, and the dragonequus stood before her in her doorway. “And good evening to you ,” he said, miffed. “What’s with the long face?” His face stretched to his knees. Once more, Fluttershy ignored him and walked between his legs. She headed for her bedroom. Maybe if she went to bed, she would wake up from this nightmare.
Even Discord, not known for his empathic qualities, could tell that something was very wrong. Though in theory he was “reformed” and had the run of Equestria, he rarely strayed far from Ponyville and, aside from jaunts to the library to torment Twilight Sparkle, usually stayed with Fluttershy. Then again, the pegasus was about the only one of the Elements of Harmony that could stand Discord for more than a few minutes. She actually laughed at his antics now and then, which brought more pleasure to Discord than he wanted to admit.
“Fluttershy? Whatever is the matter?”
She shrugged to herself. Discord would find out sooner or later. “Rainbow…” She couldn’t get the words out, but with effort she mastered her emotions. “Rainbow Dash d-died.”
Discord was silent for a moment, then began laughing. “Oh, that’s rich! Did she snark herself to death? Did Applejack finally tire of her and kick her into next week?” He conjured a calendar and ostientatiously marked the date. “Did she sonic rainboom herself into the ground—“
“Shut up !” Fluttershy shouted, whirling on Discord with such speed that the dragonequus took a step back. She pointed a hoof at the door. “Get out! Get out of my house, you…you…abomination! ” It was a word Rarity liked to use when speaking about Discord—admittedly when he was assumed to be out of earshot—and it seemed entirely appropriate for the situation. Discord did not fear Fluttershy’s legendary stare, but he found himself frightened of the venom in her voice. She glared at him for a long moment, then resumed slowly walking towards her bed. He didn’t move. Neither did any of the other dozen or so small animals who lived in her cottage, who found places to hide.
“Oh,” Discord said, in a subdued voice. “You…weren’t kidding.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
Discord felt a most unusual emotion: shame. “I…” He also found himself at a loss for words, which was also rather strange. “I am sorry,” he said at length.
Fluttershy snorted. “No, you’re not. Why should you be? The Elements of Harmony are broken now. You can do whatever you want.” She threw herself into her bed. To her surprise, she did not cry again. She felt somewhat dazed, and strangely, even a bit satisfied. It felt good to take out her grief on Discord, even if the shame of sinking to his level made her blush. “You could even kill me, if you wanted.” One part of her wished he would; at least then Rainbow Dash wouldn’t be alone wherever ponies went when they died…
“I don’t want to kill you, Fluttershy.” Discord sounded hurt that she would even suggest it.
“Because I'm your friend. What about the others?”
He chuckled. “Fluttershy, I am the Master of Chaos. I can turn the clouds into cotton candy and make it rain chocolate. I can turn Celestia’s mane into a snow cone. The laws of reality mean nothing to me. If I wanted you and the others dead, don’t you think I could’ve easily done it in the Canterlot maze? Or at any other time I wanted?” He snorted. “There’s no fun in death!”
“No, there isn’t.” She buried her head in her pillows. “Now go away.”
She heard Discord teleport away with the swish of displaced air, and wasn’t sure if she should be happy about that. Then he appeared next to her, with a teacup. “Here.”
Fluttershy rolled over, her expression one of contempt. “It’s going to run over here and pour hot tea on me, right?”
“No.” He held out the teacup.
Now Fluttershy felt bad. Discord actually looked contrite. She was still angry, though—though she wasn’t exactly sure at what she was angry at. “You think a cup of tea is going to help?”
“It can’t hurt.”
When Discord was being logical, it meant for sure that Fluttershy was having a nightmare. Nonetheless, she took the teacup. It was perfect, just the way she liked it. “I didn’t know you could brew tea.”
Discord smiled. “I…had an aquaintance in the past who rather liked tea.” He conjured a stool and sat down. “How did it happen, Fluttershy?”
She didn’t want to tell him. Grief should be private, where no one could see, or with friends she trusted. Discord was the last entity in Equestria she wanted to talk to right now…but he was also the only one in the room who could talk back. So, slowly, reluctantly, and finally in a torrent of words, Fluttershy told him. To their collective surprise, when Fluttershy ended her tale, she was crying on Discord’s shoulder—and he was gently patting her back, telling her it was going to be all right. “You made the right decision,” he said.
“How do you know?” Fluttershy bawled. “Maybe…maybe Dashie would’ve recovered. Maybe we could’ve used the Elements on her…maybe…” She paused. Her mind wound back a few minutes, to something Discord had said: the laws of reality are nothing to me. “Discord!” She drew back from him, to arm’s length. “That’s it!”
“What? What’s it?”
“You could bring Rainbow Dash back!” At his expression of utter surprise, Fluttershy continued. “You said you can do anything! You could bring her back!”
Discord shook his head. “No, Fluttershy.”
“I’ll do anything you want! I’ll…” Fluttershy looked around her cottage frantically. “I’ll give you the Elements of Harmony! I’ll give you…I’ll give you my life if that’ll bring Dashie back! You can exchange me for her!”
“No.”
“No?!” Fluttershy bared her teeth in a very uncharacteristic show of rage. “Damn you, Discord! How could you—“
“I’m saying no because I can’t, Fluttershy.” His quiet tone of voice, so unusual for Discord, brought her up short. “Yes. I can make the clouds rain chocolate or buffalo dance the trot, but I can’t bring back the dead. Not even Celestia can do that.”
Fluttershy sank back onto her bed. “Please? Do you even…maybe, a little bit…know of a way? You know a lot of things.”
Discord sighed. “I know so many things, Fluttershy. I knew Equestria before Celestia was born. I’ve travelled the stars. I’ve seen the beginnings of the worlds and the end of worlds. I have fought enemies that make the Elements of Harmony pale in comparison. But one thing I can’t do is defeat death.”
“But you’re immortal!”
“Am I?” Discord raised an eyebrow. “Celestia encased me in stone as a punishment—not because she wasn’t capable of killing me.”
Fluttershy was not so easily dissuaded. “But…wait, listen. Could you…exchange me for her? Maybe put her in my body and me in hers?” He opened his mouth, but Fluttershy held up a hoof. “It’s all right, you know. I don’t fly very well anyway…I could handle being paralyzed, I think…”
“I would never do that,” Discord growled. “I was paralyzed for a thousand years, Fluttershy. Do you think for a minute that I would sentence the only friend I have to that fate? Do you think me as cruel as Celestia?” His voice softened, seeing the fear in her eyes. “And do you think Rainbow Dash would come back on those terms?”
“No.” Fluttershy’s voice was barely audible.
He shrugged. “It’s a moot point anyway. I can’t do it. I’m sorry, Fluttershy, really. There’s nothing I can do.”
Fluttershy stared at him, then began to cry again. She bit her lip until it bled to stop, but there was no stopping yet more tears. She knew now that her friend—her oldest friend from their filly days in Cloudsdale—was gone. This time she cried so hard she was nearly screaming in grief.
Discord found he could do one thing, after all, something he was not aware that he was capable of doing. As Fluttershy cried herself to sleep, he stroked her mane.
He could be her friend.
Author's Note
This chapter was a little difficult to write (and the last one wasn't?). Not because of Fluttershy, but because of Discord. How would he react to one of the Elements actually dying? Even during the "Return of Harmony" episodes, he was malicious but not psychotic. Hopefully I wrote his reaction all right.
The sun streaming through the window woke Twilight Sparkle. She rolled away from it, but the sunbeam was unstoppable. It crawled across her bed and directly into her face. With something between a grunt and a curse, Twilight woke up, sat up and stretched. She looked outside and smiled. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Then she remembered.
Twilight sighed, got up, went over to her mirror, and brushed her mane into its usual shape. Her stomach rumbled at the smell of waffles. Twilight trotted down the stairs to find Spike waiting with a plate of waffles, strawberries and cream. “’Morning,” he said.
“Good morning.” She sat in a chair as he served her a waffle. Breakfast went in silence. Neither wanted to be the first to speak. Twilight marveled at Spike’s generosity—the strawberries were fresh, as was the cream, which meant Spike, who was no morning dragon, had gotten up early to get them. When she was finished, Twilight dabbed the corners of her mouth free of cream, and used her magic to levitate the dirty dishes into the sink. “Thank you, Spike.”
“My pleasure. It was the least I could do…” Spike’s voice faltered. He looked at her. “Twilight…is everything going to be all right?”
Twilight admitted to herself that it was a good question. Would everything be all right? Would it ever return to normal? Would her circle of friends, six months, a year from now, find a new normal without Rainbow Dash? Would Rainbow fade to a memory—a pleasant memory, but a memory nonetheless? And what about the Elements of Harmony—now down a member? They would have to find a replacement…or perhaps Celestia or the Elements themselves would. Who would they choose? Who could possibly replace Rainbow Dash? “I don’t know, Spike. I hope so,” she finally replied.
Spike stared at the floor. He wiped his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I want to do something…but I don’t know what to do.”
“We should see how the others are holding up,” Twilight said. “Why don’t you check on Rarity and Fluttershy? I’ll check on Pinkie and Applejack.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll meet back up this afternoon. I need to make a list of things to do.”
That actually cheered Spike up a little. If Twilight Sparkle was making a list, the world was still turning.
Twilight walked towards Sugarcube Corner, taking her time. There really was no rush, and it was indeed turning into a gorgeous day. There was a pall over Ponyville, though. Most ponies did not speak to her, other than a nod, though a few did—to express their condolences or talk about what a wonderful pony Rainbow Dash had been. It seemed very strange to be speaking of someone in the past tense. All of them who spoke ended up crying. Rainbow Dash was a Ponyville icon: everyone knew her, and if everyone also knew that Dash had an ego the size of Canterlot, there was no doubting Dash's love of her friends and Ponyville itself.
Twilight comforted them as she could, but did not cry herself. That bothered her. She expected to be a wreck, either valiantly trying to fight back her tears, like Octavia, or trying to say something and never finishing the sentence due to emotion, like Vinyl Scratch, or just bawling their eyes out, like Derpy Hooves. Though she could feel the emotional pain of losing her friend, Twilight just could not bring herself to cry. She wasn’t sure if it was shock or something else. In her mind, she was already forming the checklist of what she now had to do—arranging Dash’s funeral, contacting the Wonderbolts, contacting Cloudsdale, finding a replacement to lead Ponyville’s weather teams, cleaning out Dash’s house…it was a long list. I love…loved Rainbow Dash as one of my best friends , Twilight asked herself. Have I become cynical? Am I getting some sort of emotional detachment from normal ponies now that I have these? Her wings chose that moment to fluff themselves out, just as she walked into Sugarcube Corner.
“Oh, hi, Twilight!” Pinkie Pie was behind the counter, and she giggled. “Still getting wingboners, huh?”
Twilight fought her wings back into place. “Why do pegasi even call them that?”
“Well, you know, when stallions—well, maybe you don’t know, Twilight. I’m sure there’s books about it. You probably have some. If not, I know where I can find some. Or maybe Celestia can explain it. Ooh! Has she given you the ‘talk’ yet?” Pinkie’s eyes were wide and questioning. “Well?”
“You do know that Princess Celestia is not my mother, and yes, I’ve had the ‘talk.’ I wasn’t born yesterday, Pinkie.”
“Me neither, though I was born in a barn. And so were you.”
“I was not! I was born in a—“ Twilight remembered. She rolled her eyes, reached behind her, and closed the door. “Sorry.”
“No biggie. I don’t mind. It’s just that Mr. Cake has been afraid of parasprites coming in, or Derpy finding out that the Cakes totally forgot to make Lemon Muffin Surprise this morning. You remember how upset Derpy was the last time! It’s like lasers shot out of her eyes, she was so mad! Lasers shooting out of your eyes would be neat, but I can see how you wouldn’t make many friends that way. You’d have to walk around wearing weird glasses all the time—like Vinyl, but weirder!”
Twilight saw an opening when Pinkie paused for breath. “Pinkie, are you okay?”
“Sure.” Pinkie gave her a typically Pinkie grin—all teeth and sparkling eyes. Twilight found herself smiling, but rapidly clamped down on that smile. There was nothing to smile about. Pinkie was acting strange. A quick glance at her mane showed that it was its usual poofy self—not the straightened mane of Pinkamena Diane Pie, Pinkie's dour former self. Pinkie Pie wore her emotions on her flanks, and if she was depressed, it showed. Twilight wondered if that was still true.
“Want some cupcakes, Twi?”
“Um, no. Not really hungry—“
“You need to eat. How about some hay bacon strips?”
“Spike served me waffles—“
“Ooh! Did he have fresh strawberries? I saw him wandering around this morning. I got up early because I couldn’t sleep.” She licked her lips. “Waffles and strawberries…mmm. Spike does make really good breakfasts! Not as good as his nachos, but you can’t have nachos for breakfast because that would be weird! I bet even the buffalo down around Appleloosa don’t eat nachos for breakfast—“
“Pinkie!” Twilight shouted.
“What?”
“Stop it!”
Pinkie’s expression was one of genuine confusion. “Stop what?”
“Stop acting so…so…normal! ”
Pinkie stopped. She blinked. Twice. Then she started to laugh. Uproariously. “Normal? Me? ” Pinkie struggled out the words; she was laughing so hard that she pounded her hooves against the counter. “You…you’re the first pony ever to call me normal , Twilight! That’s funny! Normal! Me!”
Twilight shut her mouth before something flew into it. She wasn’t sure what to do—if she should turn her back on Pinkie in disgust and walk out, if she should reach across the counter and slap some sense into the pink pony, or embrace the madness and start laughing with her. Maybe Pinkie’s lost her mind completely , Twilight mused, or I have. “Pinkie, don’t you remember last night? Rainbow?”
Pinkie’s laughing faded away, though her smile remained. She nodded. “Of course I do, Twilight.” Her voice had lost none of its perkiness. “I remember what happened to Rainbow. It’s going to be all right.”
Twilight swallowed nervously. Pinkie was not acting rationally. “Pinkie, Rainbow died. Rainbow Dash is dead.”
Without warning, Pinkie’s demeanor changed. Her smile changed to a frown. Her eyes narrowed. Her mane straightened ever so slightly. “I know that, Twilight. What kind of a freak do you think I am that I wouldn’t remember what happened to one of my best friends?”
“But you…you’re not mourning!”
“Are you?” Pinkie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see you crying a river, Twi.” Her expression changed again, this time to sadness. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I’m…” Pinkie closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’m dealing with this the only way I know how, Twilight. And that’s to laugh. It’s kinda my job.” Pinkie motioned at her cutie mark. She smiled again, though not as wide and with more than a tinge of sorrow. “Rainbow wouldn’t want me moping around, Twilight. If she was here, she’d say ‘Pinkie, stop crying. Twilight, go be an egghead and make a list. I’m gonna be okay.’” Pinkie thought for a moment. “Maybe she is here. My mama and papa always told me back on the farm that our kin never really die; they just sort of hang around wherever. I’m not sure if that would be neat or not. I mean, you'd still be with your friends, but you'd be a ghost or something. Can ghosts eat food? Can they pick up things? I've never heard a ghost talk, really."
“Pinkie, you’re just so…random .” They shared a grin at that, an old Dash-ism. “Well. Here I came to cheer you up, and you’ve actually cheered me up," Twilight remarked.
“Like I said, that’s my job. You know, Element of Laughter and all that?” Pinkie leaned close. “Twilight, remember that time at the Grand Galloping Gala? When we were all riding up the elevator and Rarity cut a fart? And how it stunk because she’d been eating horseradishes earlier on?”
Twilight giggled. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t know ponies could blush like that.”
“And how she tried to cast a pine-smell spell to cover it and it totally didn’t work?” Pinkie snorted. “And what Dashie said?”
Twilight laughed. “‘Mother of Celestia, Rarity, did you shit a tree?’” Twilight blushed herself at using profanity, but she would never forget Dash's exact words. At the time, Rarity had been mortified, Fluttershy and Twilight embarrassed for her, and Applejack and Pinkie barely able to contain their mirth. Rainbow had put an end to that. They were all laughing so hard when they stepped out of the elevator that every head in the Grand Ballroom had turned to them. “Rarity said the Gala went downhill from there!”
“Yep!” Pinkie winked. “And that, Twilight, is how I want to remember Rainbow Dash.”
Twilight wiped away a tear—one from laughing. “You’re right, Pinkie. You're absolutely right.” She paused. “Bag me up some apple fritters. I’m going to go talk to Applejack; see how she’s doing.” Pinkie complied, scrounged a bone from somewhere for Winona, and wouldn’t accept Twilight’s bits. “This one’s on the house, Twi. For Dashie.”
“Okay.” At the threshold of the door, Twilight paused. “Pinkie Pie, thank you. I didn’t think I’d laugh again. See you later.”
“Seeya!” Pinkie watched as Twilight headed off down the road towards Sweet Apple Acres outside of Ponyville. “Oh, we’ll laugh again,” Pinkie whispered to herself. “It's just that...we’ll…we’ll just never be young again.”
Her reserve broke. Her smile dissolved into a sob. Pinkie laid her head on the counter, putting her hooves over her eyes. It hurt to smile. It hurt to be the Element of Laughter. Pinkie didn't want to be funny. She wanted to scream, to cry until there were no tears left in Equestria for her friend. But then the bell to Sugarcube Corner rang. Pinkie instantly popped her head up, swiped her tears away, and plastered a smile on her face as Lyra Heartstrings staggered in, a load of boxes on her back for pastry orders. “Hi, Lyra! Give you a hand with that?”
Author's Note
I originally was going to write Pinkie as being depressed, with Twilight being the one to cheer her up. Then I realized that Pinkie would probably deal with death by laughing at it. It's a facade, maybe, but I think it's something she would do--for her friends, if not for herself.
I couldn't resist some subtle shoutouts to some fanmade shorts ("Epic Pie Time," "The Incredible Derp") and to the infamous "Cupcakes,"
It was no surprise for Twilight Sparkle when Big Mac told her that Applejack was working in the orchard. The harvest had just started and there was really no reason to be out working yet—there were only a few apple trees that were ripe—but it was just like Applejack to throw herself into her work. Twilight had to fly to find her: Applejack was out on the fringes of Sweet Apple Acres. For a moment, Twilight considered leaving her friend alone; it seemed rather obvious that it was what Applejack wanted. Nonetheless, Twilight glided to a landing near the earth pony. “Good morning, Applejack.”
“Mornin’.” Applejack gave her a brief nod, turned and smacked a tree with her rear hooves. Apples poured down into the waiting baskets.
“Would you like something to eat? I brought you some apple fritters from Sugarcube Corner.”
“Mighty neighborly of ya. Just leave ‘em over by mah basket.”
Twilight paused. Applejack kicked another tree. The silence became uncomfortable. “Um, Applejack…”
Applejack reared up to kick another tree, stopped, and dropped back to all fours. “Ah don’t wanna talk about it, Twi. Not right now.”
“But it might help—“
“You read that in one of yer books?” Applejack gave the tree an angry kick. Wood splintered. “Ah deal with this in mah own way, Twilight!”
For some reason, that angered Twilight. “By working dawn until dusk, until you drop from exhaustion?”
“If ah have to. Tain’t none of yer beeswax what ah do, Twi. Just leave me alone, 'kay?”
“Applejack, you—we—shouldn’t go through this alone,” Twilight insisted. “I know it’s tough, but for one thing, we need to start talking about funeral arrangements. I don’t really know what Dash wanted, and I figured that maybe she told you, since you were her closest friend—“
Applejack glared at her. “Ah ain’t gonna tell you twice, Twilight. Leave. Me. Alone.”
“But you shouldn’t be alone—“
“Dammit, Twilight!” Applejack shouted. “Ah don’t know how it works in Canterlot, but the Apple family sticks together when we’re hurtin’. Ya ain’t part of this family, ya don’t understand, so get the hay outta here! Ah don’t wanna see ya, ah don’t wanna see anyone! ” The anger in Applejack’s voice took Twilight aback. None of the Apple family were afraid to express themselves—well, perhaps Big Macintosh—and certainly Applejack was capable of losing her temper. Twilight had never had that temper turned on her, however.
“Fine,” Twilight said. She used her magic to unstrap her saddle pack, set the apple fritters near Applejack’s basket, and flew off without another word.
Applejack did eventually eat the fritters, though they were cold by the time she did so. She did not, however, work until dusk—mainly because she ran out of apples to buck. It was just after noon when she headed for the farm, resolving to find something to do, anything. Anything to keep her mind off of what had happened.
Finding Granny Smith waiting for her at the door was nothing new; Granny usually took up position in her rocking chair and wouldn’t leave until Applejack and Big Mac returned from the fields, except to fix lunch and dinner and entertain Apple Bloom, if the latter felt the need. Finding Granny Smith waiting with a look of pure rage on her face was something different. Uh oh , Applejack thought, ah’m in for it now. Ah know that look. She began to run through the day’s activity to figure out what had set her grandmare off.
“Uh, hi, Grams. What’s—“ That was as far as she got before Granny Smith gave her a right forehoof across the face. Granny belonged to an earlier generation where corporal punishment was not only accepted, but encouraged, and despite her age, still packed a mean punch. Applejack nearly fell, as much from surprise as pain. “Grams, what the hay—“
“How dare ya!” Granny shouted. “How dare ya say them things ta Twilight!”
“What? What did ah—“
“Don’t you give me none o’ that!” Granny hooked a foreleg around Applejack’s throat and hobbled into the farmhouse, half dragging, half strangling her granddaughter. Twilight sat in the living room next to Big Mac, looking as shocked as Applejack was. “Now ya apologize, or by Celestia, ah will beat the tarnation outta ya! Ya ain’t too old for me ta haul out the switches!”
“Um, Granny Smith?” Twilight said. “It’s all right. I mean, I know ponies have different reactions and it’s perfectly okay for Applejack—“
“Ya be quiet, Twi.” Granny increased the pressure. “Ah don’t hear any ‘Ah’m sorries,’ Applejack!”
“Ah…” Applejack finally got Granny Smith’s hoof off her windpipe. “Ah’m sorry, Twilight.”
“Huh. That don’t sound much like no apology ta me—“
“Granny Smith!” Twilight exclaimed. “Really, um, that’s good enough.”
“Hmpf.” Granny let go of Applejack. “Now then. Ya never say that Twilight ain’t part o’ this family. She’s as much a part of it as Pinkie, or Rarity, or Spike, or—yeah—Rainbow Dash!”
“Granny, ah said ah didn’t want ta hear—“
“Shut it!” Granny yelled at her. “Ya don’t wanna hear the name o’ yer best friend? That's what ya said this mornin'. Well, ah’ll tell ya, Applejack, ah was damn proud to see ya two be friends. Ya never try ta forget Dashie, or ah will kick yer flank over the mountains back to Manehattan!”
Applejack’s temper blew. She grabbed her hat and threw it on the floor with such violence that it bounced. “Now that’s enough!” she shouted. “Ah don’t wanna hear about Dashie because…because it hurts so damn much, that’s why!” Applejack looked around the room. “By Celestia, Dashie ain’t been cold more’n half a day and everypony’s askin’ me ta ‘get over it.’ Well, ah ain’t never gettin’ over it! She was mah best friend, long before the rest o’ ya started showin’ up—“
Twilight saw that she needed to step in. The light of battle was in Granny Smith’s eyes, enough that Big Mac had taken a pace backwards. “Applejack, listen to me. Nopony’s saying you need to get over this. All I want to do is just be with you. You’re my friend!”
Applejack rounded on her, but saw the expression on her friend’s face and bit back her retort. “Twi…ah know ah’m yer friend, and ah’m yers. And ah’m really sorry ‘bout what ah said earlier, really. Granny’s right, ah never should’ve said that. It’s just…ah…” She shook her head, her face working. “Ah’m sorry, y’all. Ah just can’t…” She turned and ran out the door.
“I’m sorry,” Twilight said quietly. “I never should’ve pushed this. I just…I don’t know what to do either.”
Granny Smith walked over to her and put a hoof on her withers. “Now, now, Twilight…ah’ve been through this plenty o’ times. This old pony’s seen quite a bit in her time. Death’s just a part of it. Ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of, now.” Twilight wasn’t sure if Granny meant that death wasn’t to be feared at any time, or just for her; she had, after all, reached that age where death was the last thing a pony need fear. “Applejack…she’s just goin’ through some tough times. Dashie and her been friends since they was fillies. It's gonna be hard on all o' ya. Me'n Big Mac, 'n' Apple Bloom and the whole damn Apple family will be here for ya!"
“What do I do?” Twilight asked. “It seems like anything I do just blows up in my face.”
“Ah’ll handle it,” Big Mac rumbled. He motioned with his head for her to follow.
They found Applejack next to the stream that flowed through Sweet Apple Acres. Twilight half expected her to be crying, but the earth pony was just staring at her reflection. She glanced up when they came up to her, but said nothing.
“Ah ain’t leavin’ you alone,” Big Mac said.
“Ah know, Mac.” Applejack sighed. “Ah know.” She kicked a rock into the water. “It’s just…” She turned to Twilight. “Twi, why? Why did Dashie do that?”
“I don’t know. She’d flown that trick a hundred times, Applejack. It was just…bad luck, I guess.” Twilight stared at the grass. She wished she had a better explanation.
“Yeah, well…she damn well deserved it.” Twilight’s head snapped up. Applejack’s eyes narrowed at her reflection in the water. “Ah told her. Ah always told her that she was pushin’ it. She needed to back it up some. Not take so many damn chances. Like that Sonic Rainboom business. She was lucky that didn’t kill her! But oh no, ya can’t tell Dashie a blessed thing. She knows everything. Stupid, dumbass filly.” Suddenly Applejack brought both forehooves down in the water, splashing them all and destroying her reflection. “YOU STUPID DUMBASS FILLY! AH HOPE YER HAPPY NOW, RAINBOW DASH!” Her voice echoed around the glen.
Twilight gasped in shock. “But…Applejack…she’s—was—our friend!”
“Yeah! Mah friend!” Applejack yelled. “An’ she was a selfish friend! How dare she, Twi! How dare she…do somethin’ like that and leave us all alone!” Now the tears were starting, Twilight saw, in great heaving sobs that racked Applejack’s body with their force. “She…she left us, Twi! Ah hate her! Ah hate her! ” Big Mac took a step forward and put his big arm around his sister. Applejack put her face in his mane. “Ah, Mac…she left us, just like Mama and Papa did…ah can’t lose anymore ponies, Mac, ah just can’t…” Mac soothed his sister, nuzzling her mane, saying nothing and yet saying everything. Mac was good at that, Twilight reflected.
Wanting to leave the Apples in peace, Twilight turned and began to walk towards Ponyville. Then she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She turned and saw it was Applejack, holding onto her brother with one hoof and Twilight with the other. Her eyes were puffy and red, her mane disheveled, muzzle wet with tears. “Ah, Twi, ah’m so sorry. Ah don’t mean it. Ah don’t hate Dashie. Ah don’t hate ya. Ah could never hate none of ya. C’mere.” Twilight allowed herself to be pulled into her friend’s embrace. “Ah just don’t know what we’re gonna do now…”
“It’ll be okay, Applejack. Really. We’ll figure it out…we’ll talk it over. Rainbow would want that…” Twilight fairly babbled, knowing she was saying nonsense. She kept her voice measured and easy. It wasn’t what she said that mattered, only that it made Applejack feel better. Twilight wished she could joke around like Pinkie Pie did, but she simply was not good at that sort of thing. She resolved to write a letter to Princess Celestia; maybe the princess would know what to do.
And maybe Princess Celestia would know why Twilight Sparkle still couldn't cry for her friend.
The three of them stayed like that quite awhile. Applejack stopped crying, dried her eyes, and smiled at Twilight. “You’d better get on home, Twi. It's gettin' late. Ah’ll be okay. Mac here will make sure o’ that.”
“Eeyup.” Mac’s smile was the most reassuring thing Twilight had seen all afternoon.
“Okay, Applejack. If you’re sure.”
“Ah’m sure. Thanks, Twi.” She motioned towards Ponyville. “You’d better check up on Rarity. Ah honestly don’t know how she’s gonna take all this.”
“I sent Spike—“ All of them turned at the sound of fast-running hooves. Apple Bloom slid to a halt in front of them. “There ya are!” she exclaimed. “Ah’ve been lookin’ all over for ya—all three of ya!”
“What is it?” Applejack asked.
“It’s Scootaloo—she’s gone!”
Oh my Celestia , Twilight thought in alarm. She’d forgotten who else had been Rainbow Dash’s best friend.
Author's Note
As a transplanted Southerner, here's hoping I got Applejack's accent right. I also hope that I did her justice. Applejack seems to me the one who would get angry, say things she doesn't mean, then feel terrible about it. She's the Element of Honesty, but grief does weird things to people, and ponies.
Next up, Scootaloo.
Scootaloo was about half a day’s walk north of Ponyville. She had left for no particular reason, she had no particular destination—though she had a vague notion of going to Canterlot and seeing Princess Luna, for some reason—and she was in no particular hurry to get there. All she brought with her was her scooter, her helmet, a canteen of water, and two ears of corn and an apple. She found an oak tree along the road and set up an impromptu picnic, driven by an equally vague notion that she should probably eat and drink something. She had not done a lot of either in the past day. Scootaloo absently munched on the apple and stared at nothing.
A shadow passed over her, the shadow of a pegasus. She looked up, her heart accelerating a few beats, but whoever it had been was gone. She glanced at the apple and let it fall from her hooves. Listlessly, she watched it hit the grass and roll down the slight hill to the road. It didn’t matter.
Nothing really did anymore.
“Kind of late to be out by yourself, don’t you think?”
Scootaloo turned at the voice and her eyes widened. Her mane stiffened and her jaw dropped in shock. “S-S-Spitfire?!”
The leader of the Wonderbolts reached up and drew her hood and goggles back, fully exposing the shock of her fiery mane. She motioned towards the apple. “Since you don’t want that, can I have it? I’m kinda hungry. It was a long flight from Mareimar.” Scootaloo dumbly nodded. Spitfire bent down, spit on the apple, rubbed it dry with a hoof, and took a huge bite. Around the apple, she asked, “Scootaloo, right?” Another silent nod. “What are you doing out this late? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”
Scootaloo looked away and shrugged. “I’m not very good at school.”
Spitfire finished the apple and sat down next to her. “Truth to tell, I wasn’t great shakes at it either. I had to improve towards the end, though—the Royal Equestrian Air Force has certain standards.”
Another shrug. “Don’t really care about that.”
Spitfire cocked her head to one side. “You don't? I thought you wanted to become a Wonderbolt someday.”
“Rainbow Dash did…”
“Mm-hm. And didn’t you want to follow her?”
“Does it matter?” Scootaloo’s voice rose despite herself. “Rainbow Dash is dead.” She angrily wiped away a tear. She didn’t want to cry anymore. Crying was weakness. Rainbow Dash didn't cry.
“I know,” Spitfire sighed. “I’m flying to Ponyville to help with the funeral.” She walked over to Scootaloo. “She told me a lot about you, you know—Rainbow Dash, that is.”
“She…she did?”
“Yep.” Spitfire smiled. “Dash and I corresponded fairly regularly. She was always talking about this crazy filly with a scooter that zipped around Ponyville, terrorizing everypony. A little pegasi who just wants to fly all the time.” The smile widened. “Sounds like Air Force material to me.”
Scootaloo shook her head. “No. I don’t want to join now. I don’t want to fly.”
“A pegasi that doesn’t want to fly?” Spitfire looked surprised. “Why not?”
“What’s the point?” Scootaloo picked up her helmet and jammed it down over her mane. “Rainbow won’t be there to see me. Nobody else cares.”
“Don’t you think that’s unfair?” Spitfire asked gently. “I saw you at Prince Armor and Princess Cadance’s wedding. Seems to me you have a lot of friends.”
“I really don’t—“
“Twilight Sparkle isn’t your friend? Rarity? Applejack? Pinkie Pie? Fluttershy? The Cutie Mark Crusaders I've heard about?” Spitfire shook her head. “Seems to me that you do.”
Scootaloo opened her mouth, closed it, and instead fixed Spitfire with a sulking glare. “I’m a blank flank.”
“Me too.” Spitfire bit back a laugh at the expression on Scootaloo’s face. “Well, I was until I got my cutie mark. You’re just a filly, Scootaloo. You’ve got time.”
“I’m not good at anything! I can't fly, I can't draw, I can't sing...I'm terrible!" Scootaloo shouted.
Spitfire’s eyebrows rose. “Rainbow Dash disagreed.” She silenced Scootaloo with a look. “Dash was one of the best fliers I’ve ever seen at Mareimar—and I see about forty pegasi a year. She was going to make the Wonderbolts, as soon as Fleetfoot retires. Twilight Sparkle—Princess Twilight Sparkle—could’ve picked any one of the Wonderbolts, or even Princess Luna or Cadance to teach her to fly. But she chose Rainbow Dash. And you know who else Dash chose to teach how to fly.” Spitfire looked pointedly at Scootaloo. When the filly turned away without reply, Spitfire nudged her. “So you see, Scootaloo, your attempts at making yourself look bad just aren’t going to work. I’m on your six. You’re a good filly, and Rainbow Dash loved you like a sister.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Scootaloo fought very hard, but to her shame, she began crying. She swore and said words a filly should not know—Spitfire’s ears flattened back against her head in surprise—but the tears did not stop. “I killed her,” Scootaloo whispered.
Spitfire put a protective wing over her. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did, Miss Spitfire. She’d be alive if I hadn’t…jumped out in front of her. I just—just wanted to see her closer, you know…why can’t I stop crying, Miss Spitfire? Rainbow never cried…”
Spitfire doubted that. “She was your friend, Scootaloo. It would be strange if you didn’t cry. There’s no shame in it.” She poked the filly with a hoof. “And you did not kill Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo. It was an accident.” She paused as Scootaloo sniffled and wiped her muzzle. “Can I tell you a story, Scootaloo? It’s not a very happy one, I’ll warn you.”
“I guess so…” Scootaloo did not want to hear any sad stories right now, but curiosity won her over.
Spitfire settled in next to Scootaloo. The sun was just about gone, but it was a pleasant evening, and the sky still was light enough. “Just after I joined the Wonderbolts, the team had an airshow over in Germaneigh. You know the Multipony Crossover Manuever?”
“Yeah. Rainbow called it ‘threading the needle.’” Despite herself, Scootaloo was interested. Her tears dried as she listened.
“It relies on expert timing, Scootaloo. Expert. One pony gets things wrong, the whole manuever falls apart and we look dumb. But this was worse. One pony—her name was Skyflash—was off by half a second . Instead of crossing over him, she flew straight into Whirlwind. They hit each other at very high speed. Worse, a third pony—Javelin—saw it happen right in front of him. He tried to manuever away and flew headfirst into the ground.
“They all died, Scootaloo. All three Wonderbolts. There’s only six of us on the show team. It was the worst disaster in team history. Fleetfoot was team leader then. It bothered her so bad that she asked to be relieved from command. Soarin and I were the only ones left—we were flying the solos that day, so we weren’t involved. We were up high; didn’t see it happen. For half a year, we didn’t perform. Celestia chose me to take over as team leader. I had to pick up the pieces.
“In your case, Rainbow Dash was too low and too fast. She never should have been that low at that speed. You make one mistake in that situation and you’re dead. If Dash was three feet higher, she would’ve flown over you. Given you a good scare, ruffled your feathers, but that’s all. If she hadn’t been flying so fast, she might’ve still hit the tree, busted her wing, but it wouldn’t have killed her.”
“So you blame Rainbow ?” Scootaloo said angrily.
“No. All I’m saying is, these things happen , Scootaloo. You do what we do—what the Wonderbolts do, what a pony like Rainbow Dash did—and you know that you’re flying on the edge. Most pegasi don’t even try to fly like we do. Rainbow Dash could do a Sonic Rainboom. I’ve been flying for longer than you’ve been alive, Scootaloo, and even I can’t do that. Not even Princess Celestia can. Eventually, if you hang it out there long enough, you will get hurt. And yes, sometimes even killed.” Spitfire gave her a wan smile. “But here’s the funny thing. I can’t think of anything I would rather do more than be a Wonderbolt.”
“Don’t you get scared?”
“Yep. All the time. Anyone who doesn’t get scared is an idiot. If I had a bit for every time I broke off a manuever because I got scared, I could buy Canterlot.” Spitfire let out a breath. “What I’m trying to say, Scootaloo, is that Rainbow Dash died doing the thing she loved. I don’t blame her for that. Neither should you, by the way—“
“I don’t!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “I could never hate Rainbow Dash!”
Spitfire smoothed Scootaloo’s mane with her wing. “I know. But you might get angry at her. She saved your life, Scootaloo. Always remember that. If she’d hit you, head on, I’d be attending two funerals.”
Scootaloo nodded. “I know. That’s why…it hurts so much. That’s why I’m angry with me.” Scootaloo stared at the evening sky. The sun was gone now, and the stars were out. “I want to fly, Miss Spitfire. I really do.” Her tiny wings whirred at full speed, but they barely lifted her from the ground. “And I think I will someday. It’s just that…I don’t think anyone cares.”
“I think we already had that conversation. I think you’ll have a tough time finding anypony who doesn’t care when that happens.”
“Diamond Tiara won’t!”
Spitfire had no idea who Diamond Tiara was, but guessed it was someone Scootaloo didn’t like at school. “Don’t worry about that. You know a earth pony named Cherilee?”
Scootaloo nodded. “Miss Cherilee? She’s my teacher! Next to Rainbow Dash, she’s the best pony ever!”
“We went to school together. She was a class behind me.” Spitfire shook her head. “We hated each other. I thought she was just a dumb old earth pony and she thought I was a stuck-up jerk. We beat each other up a few times.” Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Never pick a fight with an earth pony, by the way…anyhow, I’m staying with Miss Cherilee while I’m in Ponyville. We’re good friends. She was the one who first told me about this crazy filly named Rainbow Dash. I bet that in a few years, you and Diamond Tiara will be best friends.” The expression on Scootaloo’s face told just how little faith the filly put into that remark.
Scootaloo was quiet for a moment. "Miss Spitfire, I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop...seeing Rainbow crash. Will I ever stop seeing that?"
"Maybe someday." At least Spitfire hoped she would stop seeing it. She had lied about one part of her story--Spitfire had seen Skyflash and Whirlwind collide. She'd also seen the bloody aftermath. She still saw it. So did Fleetfoot, if the occasional screams in her sleep were any indication. Scootaloo was young; maybe she would forget. Then again, perhaps it would be better if she remembered. Memories were good and bad things at the same time.
“Well,” Spitfire said, getting to her hooves, “we’d better be getting into Ponyville. They’re going to be worried sick about you, my little pony.”
“Yeah, you’re right…” Scootaloo got on her scooter. “They probably think I went to Ghastly Gorge and threw myself in or something.”
“Were you going to?”
“No,” Scootaloo reassured her firmly. “That would be dumb. I mean, who’s gonna remember Rainbow Dash if I did something like that? What about the other Cutie Mark Crusaders and my folks? I can't just leave them." Now with some clarity, Scootaloo didn't want to admit that wandering away from Ponyville was almost as bad of an idea.
“That’s a very mature decision,” Spitfire said.
“I just wish…Rainbow was going to be around to see me fly. When I do, I mean.”
“I like to think that she will see you, in her own way.” Spitfire winked. “And she’ll be very impressed by what she sees.”
“You think so?”
“She’d better. Nopony is going to think bad about a student of mine!” Spitfire waited until it dawned on Scootaloo what she had said. The filly’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. “I’m no Rainbow Dash,” Spitfire said solemnly, “but I will do my best. And I demand that you do your best. Understood?” She barked the last word, like she would at a new recruit.
Scootaloo came to attention and snapped off a dazzling salute. It was with the wrong hoof, but Spitfire could work with that. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Good.” Spitfire folded her wings back. “Your first assignment, Cadet Scootaloo, is to walk back with me to Ponyville. It’s a little too dark for that scooter.”
For the first time in a day, Scootaloo felt alive again. She would never forget Rainbow Dash, her best friend, but maybe now she could come to terms with losing her. Maybe she hadn't really lost her at all. She pushed her scooter along with one hoof, staying even with the older pegasus. As the lights of Ponyville came into sight, Scootaloo said, “Miss Spitfire?”
“Yes?”
“Will I ever be as good as Rainbow Dash?”
“If you do well in your lessons, if you listen to what Miss Cherilee and I say, and you quit worrying about being a blank flank, then yes.” Spitfire winked at her. “You may even be better.”
Author's Note
Sorry about the delay between chapters--Christmas and all. That and the fact that I rewrote this chapter three times. I envy anyone who can write the CMC well.
I did my best to avoid too many Top Gun references; it would be all too easy to start quoting Viper's speech to Maverick verbatim. The accident that Spitfire refers to actually happened at Ramstein, Germany in 1988. The Italian aerobatic team, the Frecce Tricolori, were executing a crossover manuever when, as Spitfire points out, their timing was half a second off. All three pilots involved were killed, along with 67 people on the ground. Naturally, I changed it to ponies, who would not have caused spectator casualties. It almost ended airshows in Europe and devastated the team. (On a personal note, when I lived in Germany as a kid, I used to watch the Ramstein airshow from where the plane crashed into the crowd. That's kept me up a night or two.) Ironically, the Tricolori's callsign that day was "Pony"...
I threw in the part where Cherillee and Spitfire know each other from school. According to the IDW comics canon, Cherillee graduated with Soarin, Shining Armor and Cadance.
Anyhow, I hoped you like this chapter. Thanks for all the upvotes and kind (and constructive!) comments, as always. Rarity's up next.
Spike wandered through Ponyville, taking a circuitious route to the Carousel Boutique. He admitted to himself that he probably should have gone there first, instead of to Fluttershy’s cottage, but he was more worried about the shy pegasus than his crush…or, he thought to himself, maybe he was just afraid to speak to Rarity.
Fluttershy at least seemed all right, under the circumstances. She was staying busy, cleaning the cottage and feeding her animal menagerie. Just as he reached the cottage, Spike remembered that Discord was back in town; the dragonequus tended to wander in and out as he pleased. When Discord answered the door, it took every ounce of courage Spike had not to flee, but even Discord seemed subdued. He didn’t try any of his usual tricks and was even polite. Of course, Fluttershy insisted on tea, and Spike had to stay for that, but in truth he didn’t mind. It gave him more time to think about what he was going to say to Rarity.
If anything.
It was a sunny day in Ponyville, with only a few harmless clouds in the sky. It made Spike tear up a little, remembering Rainbow Dash’s common boast that she could clear the sky in ten seconds flat. As usual, everyone greeted the little dragon with a smile, but there was something artificial about the smiles. It was as if the color had faded a little from everyone today.
Finally he arrived at the front door of the Carousel Boutique. On a day like this, Rarity usually left the door slightly open, to let in a fresh breeze and to welcome customers in. The door was closed today, with a note attached saying the Boutique was closed. That was no surprise. Spike stood on tiptoes and knocked on the door. “Rarity? It’s Spike.”
No answer. He knocked again. Still nothing. As he raised his hand to knock again, the door opened. A puffy-eyed Rarity peered around the door. “Oh. Hello, Spike.”
“Um, hi.” Spike tended to get tongue-twisted around Rarity in the best of times. “Uh…Twilight sent me over, check you out…I mean, check on you…”
Rarity gave him a sorrowful smile. “Of course, Spike. I’m all right.” Seeing that he was not going to leave with just that, she opened the door and motioned him inside, then closed the door behind him. “Spike, I don’t know if I’m…” No , Rarity told herself, you’re not doing that to Spike. He’s your friend, and it’s not polite . “Would…would you like some tea?”
Spike had drank enough tea at Fluttershy’s to float the moon, but there was no way he was going to refuse Rarity. “Sure.”
Rarity made tea silently, quickly and efficiently, then brought the teacups over to a small table in her showroom, balancing them just so with her magic. With another slight movement of her head, an upholstered stool slid over for Spike. She took a drink of one, but only after Spike sipped at his. It would not be proper for her to drink before her guest. “Let me look in the workroom. I am sure I have a gem or two for you…”
Spike felt his saliva start at the word gem, but he stifled his instincts. “Rarity, it’s okay. You don’t have to feed me.”
“No…I suppose not.”
Spike’s heart broke over the sound of her voice. It was flat, listless, and so unlike Rarity. “Um, I mean, if you really want me to, then sure, I’ll eat it. It’s just that I was over at Fluttershy’s, and she made me eat some carrots and I didn’t want to say no, especially with Discord there and all—“
“Discord?” Rarity said in shock. “What’s he doing there? Is he up to no good?”
“No.” Spike half-smiled. “I think he’s, well, I think he’s actually comforting Fluttershy.”
Rarity opened her mouth, thought better of it, and drank her tea. “Well. Discord is full of surprises, is he not? He’d better keep his foul paws off her, that abomination.”
The silence got uncomfortable after that, so Spike, twiddling his claws, asked in a quiet voice, “How…how are you holding up?”
“Oh, I’m fine, darling. Just waiting for Sweetie Belle to get back from looking for Scootaloo. I do hope she’s all right—Scootaloo, I mean. She and Rainbow were such good friends…” A hankerchief levitated from the table and dabbed at her eyes.
“Rarity…you’re not okay.” Spike said it as fact.
“Please don’t worry yourself over me, darling. How is Twilight taking it?”
Spike knew Rarity was avoiding the question. He took a drink for courage and forced himself to meet her blue eyes. “Rarity, answer me.”
He expected Rarity to burst into tears. In fact, he expected Rarity to not only start bawling, but to pull her fainting couch over and fall onto it. She would bury her muzzle into the rich velvet and cry for hours, and he would gently pat her mane and comfort her. At least that was how he had daydreamed it. Rarity sitting on her divan, sipping tea, with barely a mist in her eyes, was not something he expected at all. Rarity and Rainbow Dash had their differences, but they were friends…weren’t they? Spike asked himself. Maybe all these years Rarity had despised Dash and been really good at hiding it? He shook his head at that; it was impossible. For one thing, the Elements of Harmony would not work. For another, that was just not Rarity. Rarity might be hysterical at times, occasionally judgemental, even jealous. She was not cruel.
Finally, she answered him. “I don’t know, Spike. I don’t know how I feel.” She motioned around the showroom. Mannequin ponies lined the walls, decorated with dresses and accessories, all of them exquisite and beautiful, all of them showing why Rarity was Ponyville’s greatest fashionista, possibly even the best in Equestria. “Yesterday, Spike, I got up at dawn and worked straight on until I heard Rainbow was hurt. Sweetie Belle had to remind me to eat. I have a deadline, you see…” She got up and walked over to one mannequin, where a blue-black dress shimmered in the sunlight coming from the windows. “Luna wanted me to make her a dress, and she needs it by tomorrow. Some formal occasion. And it being Luna, the dress must be larger than a normal pony’s, with wing-holes for a pegasus—but they have to be larger because her wingspan is so much wider than, say, Fluttershy’s. And she says she needs it to be ‘combat capable,’ whatever in Tartarus that means.” She ran a hoof across the fabric.
“But Rarity, it’s gorgeous,” Spike gushed.
“Yes, I suppose it is. But it’s not finished. I’ve barely started on the sequins, and Luna wants a padded mane-net as well. It’s due tomorrow,” she repeated.
“Luna will understand, Rarity!” Spike exclaimed. “She’s not heartless. She knows what happened. I’m sure Princess Celestia told her.” He stood up from his stool. “In fact, I can write her! Let me run back to the library real quick—“
“That’s not necessary, Spike.” Rarity turned away from the dress. “It’s just that…I don’t really care.”
“About Luna?”
“About dressmaking.”
Spike’s eyes widened. Rarity not caring about dressmaking was tantamount to an apocalypse. “But Rarity…why? Because…because of Rainbow Dash?”
“Yes.” She looked away from him, towards her workroom. “I tried to go in there today, but everytime I do, I see Dashie standing there, with her hooves crossed, and telling me it needs to be ‘twenty percent cooler.’ Quite literally one of the most idiotic things to come out of that pony’s mouth, and that’s saying something. Not to speak ill of the…of the dead, but sometimes Dashie wasn’t the sharpest needle in the pincushion.” Rarity smiled. “Am I bad for saying that, Spike?”
“Not really, I guess.”
“I’m going to miss that.” Rarity sighed again. “Spike, I feel so…empty .” She circled the room. “It’s like none of this even matters. It can be taken away so easily. Yesterday morning, when I ran into Dashie at Sugarcube Corner, she was so full of life. She had one of Mr. Cake’s Lemon Muffin Surprises and talked about how Twilight was having trouble flying. It’s not funny, of course—Twilight is a princess now; she must learn to fly—but Dashie made it so. And now she’s gone. Just like that.” She shook her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Spike, I suppose ponies shall remember me, for my fashion and all. And the Elements of Harmony and such. But life just seems so…transient now. In a thousand years, will anyone remember us? Will they remember how we were friends before we were heroines? Will they remember me because I was a maker of dresses or will they remember me for something else? Will they remember Rainbow Dash for her heroism, or her Sonic Rainbooms? Or are we destined to be forgotten, like Luna was?"
“But Rarity…you can’t stop making dresses. It’s what you’re best at! It’s what you enjoy doing most of all!”
Rarity walked over and put a reassuring hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “Oh, I know, Spike. I have no intention of quitting. It’s just that, right now, I barely can bring myself to look at a dress. There's no color to them. There's no fire. There's just...nothing." She sniffled, wiped her eyes. "I need a hug. I desperately need a hug.”
Spike immediately turned and put his arms around Rarity’s neck. He felt his tears running into her soft mane. “All you had to do was ask,” he said.
She put her hoof around him. “Ah, Spike. Here I am, so selfish, not thinking about how this must be affecting you!” She kissed his forehead. “It will be all right. We will survive, somehow. But from now on, I shall quit wasting so much time with…fripperies. And worrying about things so much. Life is so short, Spike. We must not waste it.”
Spike looked up at her. “You’re not…you don’t think Rainbow Dash wasted her life, do you?”
“Certainly not!” Rarity protested. “Dashie lived every moment of her life at full throttle. Now I am not like her, and I can’t be like her. But perhaps…I can take some lessons from my friend.” She hugged Spike tighter. “And quit taking ponies for granted. Or dragons.” She felt Spike sobbing into her fur. “That’s all right, Spike. Let it out. It’s all right.”
“That’s weird,” Spike struggled out. “I came over here to make you feel better!”
Rarity dabbed at her eyes again. She had cried all night, and knew she would cry more. She had been to funerals before, and cried at those, but never at a friend’s funeral. She did not want to tell Spike that it would get worse before it got better. For now, though, she could hold one friend close.
There was a hesitant knock at the door—loud, like the hoof of a pony, not the small fist of a little dragon. “We know thou art closed,” a voice spoke through the door, “but we wish to speak with thee.”
Spike and Rarity looked at each other. “Luna,” they said simutaneously. No other pony in Equestria spoke like that.
Rarity left Spike and went to the door, opening it a little. Sure enough, Princess Luna stood there, wings folded, chin up, still managing to tower over ponies without meaning to. Rarity was mildly surprised to see her wearing saddlebags; usually a servant would carry those for her. Luna’s expression was sheepish. “Forgive us for disturbing thee,” Luna said. “We merely wished to inform thee that thy dress shall not be needed for a fortnight or more. Thou hast more pressing matters now.”
Rarity suppressed a smile at Luna’s archaic form of speech. From her visits to Canterlot, she knew that the younger monarch was trying to learn more modern customs. Generally, she was successful, but in times of stress Luna tended to lapse into the older, more formal Canterlot court language. Rarity realized that Rainbow Dash’s death must even be affecting Luna. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thy welcome is appreciated, but…” Luna looked down. Suddenly, she seemed much younger. “We…I would like that.” She walked in, inclining her head to Spike. “I did not see thy mis—your friend.” Luna caught herself before she called Twilight Sparkle Spike’s owner. “Is she absent from Ponyville?”
“She went to go see Applejack and Pinkie Pie.”
“Oh.” Luna accepted a cup of tea from Rarity. “Thank you. We…er, I came down to talk to thee…you…about my dress.” She took a sip. “In light of recent events…” Luna rolled her eyes in frustration. “Oh confound it! Rarity, Spike, I feel great sorrow for your loss. I did not know Rainbow Dash very well, but I know you loved her as much as I love my sister. Please accept my condolences.” She hesitated again, unsure of what else, if anything, to say.
Rarity touched Luna’s shoulder. “It is much appreciated, Your Highness.”
“Yes. Well.” She turned and saw the dress. “Oh, it is quite lovely!”
“Isn’t it?” Rarity felt pride blossoming in spite of herself. “I’m honored you like it.”
“But please, just finish it when you can. There is no emergency.” She turned and telepathically opened the saddlebags. “I brought these. I thought…perhaps you could use them.”
It was fabric, but nothing like Rarity had ever seen. It was all colors and none of them at the same time. It shimmered like the aurora borealis, like Celestia’s mane. When Rarity touched it, the fabric was soft and gentle. “This is shimmersilk,” she remarked in awe. “I have heard of it, but never…” Her voice trailed off. Shimmersilk was extremely rare and ridiculously expensive.
“You like it? It is yours. Perhaps you could use them for the funeral?”
Rarity began to tear up. Luna reared back a little at her expression. “Have…have we offended thee?”
“No,” Rarity sniffed. “It’s just that I have already chosen…Rainbow Dash’s attire.” She told them.
“Ah. Yes, that is more suitable.” Luna placed the shimmersilk on the table. “Then keep it nonetheless. For yourself. And the others.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you.” Rarity took a breath. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I seem to have quite a bit of work to do.”
“Do you feel up to it?” Spike asked. “I mean…what you said earlier…”
“I cannot neglect my responsibilities, Spike.” Rarity chuckled. “And to be honest, I really want to work on that shimmersilk. I can, it seems, make Dashie’s, ah, outfit twenty percent cooler.”
“Then you need not do so alone.” Luna smiled at Rarity’s look. “What? We--er, I--was stuck on the moon for a thousand years. Dost thou believe I do not know my way around thread and needle?”
Rarity bowed. “In that case, I accept.” She turned to Spike. “And of course you can help too, Spikey. I would not accept anything less.”
“Just not as a pincushion this time?” It felt wrong to laugh, Spike later reflected, and yet so right.
Author's Note
I had to call my lifeline for writing this chapter (as in my friends who are huge Rarity fans). Rarity's not easy to write either. Yesterday's episode ("Rarity Takes Manehattan") was a big help. She has a tendency to come off as an uppity pony of sorts, and it's easy to forget that Rarity is the Element of Generosity after all. I tried to reflect that in this chapter, that she's more concerned about how her friends are taking Rainbow Dash's death than her own feelings.
It also would've been too easy to write Rarity as Spike's daydream--bawling and fainting. Much like Aunt Pittypat of "Gone With the Wind," however, I think most of Rarity's fainting spells are feigned. She's kind of a drama queen. When the sorrow is real, however, I felt Rarity would almost shut down. Interestingly enough, if I had wrote this where one of the other Mane Six had died, I think RD would just shut down as well.
So that's it for the Mane Six's reactions. Now onto the funeral. Two chapters to go.
It was a good funeral, Twilight Sparkle reflected, as funerals went. She admitted she didn’t have much to relate it to.
Certainly there was quite a turnout. Rainbow Dash left no will (which seemed rather typical of her, Twilight thought; Twilight had her will in a safe in Canterlot, annotated by possession, who it was to go to, and in what quantity), so no one had any idea if Dash would’ve preferred a private ceremony or a public one. It was Fluttershy who made the decision: as she pointed out, Rainbow Dash was a heroine to all of Equestria, and therefore it wouldn’t be fair for it not to be public. All of Ponyville and a good portion of Canterlot was there.
Twilight wasn’t sure what to expect; what few funerals she had been to, she had been just a filly at the time. It was set up in a field, not too far from Dash’s cloud-home, under the open sky. An expected thunderstorm was cleared away by the pegasi. A bier was set up next to a podium where the eulogies would be said. Though Twilight knew that Rainbow likely wouldn’t have liked long speeches, there were so many who wanted to say something that finally Princess Celestia herself had stepped in, limiting it to the Elements of Harmony.
Rainbow Dash’s body lay in a casket on a bier, the casket half-covered in the flag of Equestria; per Spitfire's request, Celestia decreed that Dash would be given the full military honors that she would have wanted. Rarity had done well by her friend: Dash was dressed in a tailored Wonderbolts uniform, with a shimmersilk cape and the golden wreath she had worn to the Grand Galloping Gala. For the first, last and only time in her life, Rainbow Dash was a full-fledged Wonderbolt.
Twilight was unsure of what to do. Fluttershy took one look and fled in tears. Rarity was maintaining her composure, but her puffy eyes showed that the act of dressing her friend’s body had taken much out of her. Applejack had stood vigil over her friend since dawn, dressed in her best, her hat respectfully left behind at Sweet Apple Acres. Pinkie Pie walked up to the casket, reached out, smoothed Dash’s mane, smiled a smile that could break anypony’s heart, and whispered something in Dash’s ear. Then she walked back into the audience to comfort Fluttershy. Aside from stoic Applejack, Twilight was alone with her friend.
“Well,” Twilight said. She didn't know what to say. Rainbow Dash was dead; her friend would never respond. Looking down at her, Twilight was tempted to yell at Dash to wake up. The mortician had done a wonderful job in his preserving magic; Rainbow Dash could lay out in the open for years and never deteriorate. Of course that would not happen, as pegasi cremated their dead and mixed it with the rainbows to honor them. Twilight knew her mind was trying to lose itself in details, her standard defense mechanism when she did not want to confront something. Disgusted, Twilight forced herself to look directly at Dash’s face.
There was nothing scary or gross about it. Rainbow Dash looked like she was asleep. In sleepovers and such, Twilight had noted that Dash tended to sleep with half a smile, a smug expression that hinted towards Dash’s prankish disposition. That smile was there, as if Dash was about to open her eyes and stick her tongue out or something. She was so alive that Twilight impulsively reached out and touched her friend’s brow with a hoof. She drew it back as if stung: Rainbow Dash was as cold as the snows above Canterlot. It so unnerved her that she left the bier and walked back into the crowd. Distracted, Twilight wasn’t watching where she was going, and collided with somepony…that was not a pony at all.
“Gilda?” Twilight was stunned to see the griffin standing there.
“Twilight Sparkle.” The voice was as haughty as ever, though tinged with sorrow.
“Um, hello. Thank you for coming.” Twilight remembered her manners.
“Thank you for having me.” Gilda looked uncertain for a moment. It had been almost three years since they had seen her last, and the parting was not on good terms. Gilda obviously realized it as well. “Twilight Sparkle, I know what happened the last time I was in Ponyville was…not a good thing.” She looked pointedly at Pinkie Pie and scowled; for her part, Pinkie was ignoring the griffin. “Still, Rainbow Dash was my friend in flight school. I never…I could never really hate her. When I heard what had happened, I…” Gilda faltered, and Twilight was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “She was my friend too.”
Twilight reached out and touched her clawed forefoot. “Of course she was, Gilda. You’re welcome here.”
“That I doubt…but thank you nonetheless.” Gilda moved off to sit on the periphery of the crowd. Applejack spared the griffin a withering look, but said nothing. There were other former enemies here: Princess Luna, trying to fight down yawns and looking as if she could use several days’ sleep, was in conversation with Rarity. Discord also sat on the periphery, never far from Fluttershy. Everyone else avoided him, out of equal parts fear and hatred; even Celestia, Twilight had noticed, started at the sight of him. It was at Fluttershy’s insistence that Discord be allowed to attend. For his part, Discord admitted that he regarded Rainbow Dash as a worthy adversary, and it was the least he could do to honor that. Twilight’s gaze fell on Trixie, sitting towards the front. Trixie gave her a nod and a smile, her magician’s hat placed respectfully next to her. Twilight nodded back, returning the smile. She was as wary of the other unicorn as Celestia was of Discord, but she would not dishonor Dash by being cross with the charlatan magician.
You could at least magically throw her cape over her face.
Rainbow Dash’s voice was so real that Twilight whirled around to face the bier, half-expecting to see her friend get up and point. It was all a prank, and you fell for it! She could hear Dash’s raucous laughter so clearly. Twilight smiled, and sighed. If only it was true.
The briefest of wind chimes sounded, clearly across the glen. Twilight took her position in the front row, where the other Elements and Dash’s family sat. Dash’s mother had passed away years ago; Rainbow almost never spoke of her. Her father Bifrost was there, scarred and sitting at attention, every inch the former Royal Equestrian Air Force captain that he was. Twilight had met Bifrost on several occasions. He was a tough pony, but one that was clearly proud of his daughter, and it was obvious that Dash worshiped the clouds her father flew through.
The ceremony passed in something of a blur; Twilight was so bothered by the voice she had heard that she could not focus on much else. Celestia said a few words, praising Rainbow Dash’s bravery, and to Twilight’s surprise, mentioned the near-disaster of the last Grand Galloping Gala. It brought a needed laugh, which was what Celestia intended. Pinkie took the podium next, and talked for nearly ten minutes, all of it funny: the Element of Laughter lived up to her name. Twilight knew Pinkie would do that, and knew Rainbow would approve. Hey, it’s okay, she heard that voice again. I don’t want anyone to cry. Have some fun, dammit! I would!
Rarity declined to speak, not trusting herself. Fluttershy tried, but broke down three sentences into her eulogy. When Applejack started forward, however, Fluttershy waved her off, set a determined look on her face, and finished what she had to say without further interruption. It was a poem she had written, a beautiful one about friends and the sky and fun and the freedom of flight, and by the time it was over, there was not a dry eye in the glen. Bifrost’s lip was trembling as he bit it to keep from weeping. Twilight noticed Glida crying unashamedly out of the corner of one eye, and tears were running down Celestia’s muzzle. Even Discord dabbed at his eyes, then looked around quickly to see if anypony noticed.
And yet Twilight still could not find it in herself to cry. No one noticed, but she was the only one who was not.
Next it was Applejack’s turn. Twilight saw Applejack look at a group of note cards she had stuffed down the front of her gown, then leave them behind. Her speech was halting at first, as Applejack searched for the right words, but she warmed to her subject and brought the crowd up again. Tears dried and there were muffled chuckles, then outright laughter as Applejack related a story about how Dash had tried to buck apples through wingpower. Twilight laughed too; she remembered that, and it had ended in Rainbow Dash being covered in supersonically smashed applesauce.
Then it was Twilight. Learning her lesson, Twilight had left behind a stack of index cards at the library; instead, she had practiced with Spike for hours. The little dragon, acting as an usher, gave her a thumbs-up as she mounted the podium. Spike was holding it together: though his eyes were moist, he was determined to be there for his friends.
To her horror, as Twilight stood in front of the huge crowd, every word she had practiced vanished from her brain. Her mouth opened and nothing came out. Near-panic seized her. She saw Celestia’s head come up, curious as to why her favorite student was not speaking, and Twilight’s heart hammered in fear.
Then, as if Rainbow Dash was at her side, she heard that sardonic voice again: C’mon, Twi. You got this. Her mind instantly cleared. Twilight smiled, and began to speak.
“Sorry. Just had to gather my thoughts.” A nod of reassurance from Celestia. “Today, we say goodbye to our friend Rainbow Dash. But is it really goodbye?” Twilight shook her head. “No, I’m not getting into theology. I’m talking about memories. She will live forever in those.
“You’ve watched us stand here and speak about our friend. I can’t add anything to what Pinkie, or Fluttershy, or Applejack have said. It’s all there. And as much as I would like to be eloquent, Rainbow would insist on…” Twilight chuckled. “Actually, she’d say, ‘You egghead, don’t bore them to death.’” Abruptly, Twilight realized what she had said, but it was exactly like something Dash would say. The crowd laughed. “So I won’t.
“We’re all going to miss Rainbow Dash. Dashie lived her life at full throttle, not wasting a second of it. If she seemed like she slept a lot, it was because she was always moving so fast—making sure that Ponyville had sunshine or rain when we needed it. It was her job, and she was proud of it. She boasted to me that she could clear the sky in ten seconds flat. Well, she lied—Rainbow never knew this, but I timed her that first day. She did it in nine seconds.
“That’s what I’ll remember about Dashie to the end of my life. I was new in Ponyville. She reached out a hoof in friendship, even if she did cover me in mud and then almost drown me in rain to clear it off. Sure, Dashie could be arrogant. She carried some of her pranks too far. But she never meant it. Dashie didn’t wear her emotions on her flank, but she loved all of us. How many of us owe our lives to her? Many. Maybe even all of us. I know I do, on several occasions.”
Twilight knew she could talk for hours, but also knew that this was not about her. “I have so many things I want to say, but Rainbow would want me to keep it short. So I will. Scootaloo told me the other day that Rainbow Dash died doing the thing she loved. I hope that, when my time comes, I can say the same thing.
“I leave you with this: Rainbow Dash was the Element of Loyalty, but in my book—and I have many…” Twilight paused for the brief laughter “…Rainbow was also the Element of Courage. We should not mourn that Rainbow Dash died. We should be thankful that she lived .”
Twilight trotted off the stage. There was silence in the crowd for a few moments. Then she heard the thumping of hooves. It was Trixie. Gradually others joined in, then the entire crowd cheered and the ground shook with their hooves. Discord, Gilda and Spike contributed with clapping. They were not cheering Twilight Sparkle; they were saluting Rainbow Dash. They were cheering her, celebrating a pony’s life in a roar of approval that, no matter where she was now, Dash had to have heard.
And deep down, Twilight Sparkle knew that she did hear. Ya did good, Egghead , the voice said, and Twilight added her own cheers.
Celestia quieted the crowd and concluded the ceremony. She then nodded to Shining Armor, who had made the journey from the Crystal Empire. He called the guards to attention: there were six of them, one for each one of the Elements of Harmony, all pegasi. Half were dressed in the gray armor of Luna’s Nightwatch; the other wore the golden armor of the Royal Guards of Celestia. With their teeth, they drew off the flag, then, at the softly-barked orders of Shining Armor, folded it with precision. Once it was done, it was given to Armor. He pivoted in silence, making one quarter turn every two seconds. When he faced the crowd, flag balanced on one hoof, he set it down atop Scootaloo’s back and head. Even folded, it was bigger than the filly, but Scootaloo—who wore an immaculate red cape with the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ logo stitched on it—solemnly walked forward. She knelt before Bifrost. Her voice was tiny and quiet, but it carried nonetheless over the crowd. “On behalf of a grateful nation and the Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and Twilight Sparkle, I present you this flag in honor of your daughter’s service. She will always be honored amongst us and remembered.”
Bifrost nodded. He took the flag in one hoof. Slowly, the guards, Shining Armor, and Scootaloo rendered a salute. A single tear drifted down his cheek, but he returned the salute. At that moment, with a roar, the Wonderbolts arrived.
There were four of them, spread out in a formation that reminded Twilight Sparkle of the human world, and a spread hand. Spitfire was in the lead, Misty Fly to her right, with Soarin to her left. On the end, in the fourth position, was Derpy Hooves; because of operational requirements of the service, Spitfire was only able to bring three Wonderbolts, and needed a fourth. Derpy had volunteered, much to the consternation of Ponyville, who worried that the walleyed pegasus wouldn’t be able to fly straight, but there she was, holding position and keeping up with the faster pegasi. As they passed over at a thousand feet, Soarin abruptly shot upwards, climbing out of sight.
Without warning, Twilight Sparkle began to cry.
She didn’t know why. It didn’t make any sense. The missing pony formation was something the Wonderbolts did on occasion, to honor the military dead of Equestria’s history; it wasn’t even the first time Twilight had seen it. Twilight had asked Celestia when the princess had arrived earlier why she was not crying when everyone else could barely keep from doing anything else. Celestia had replied that everyone mourns in their own way—which was expected—and that Twilight would cry, when the time was right.
She had not said that it would be so unexpected.
As if a dam was breaking, Twilight’s tears flooded from her eyes. No one could hear her sobs over the roar of the Wonderbolts’ passing, and no one was paying attention to her, all eyes on Soarin living up to his name. Twilight struggled, but there was no stopping it now. It was all she could do to keep her hooves.
Spike was the first to notice. He tugged on Fluttershy’s wing, who gasped. That got Rarity and Applejack’s attention, and Applejack gently but firmly kicked Pinkie. They all saw Twilight then, her flanks heaving as she sobbed. “I’m…I’m so sorry…” she forced out. “I don’t know…”
“Ah, sugarcube,” Applejack remarked, and they gathered around her. They touched hooves, withers, wings. Twilight felt the love and magic of their friendship, and it helped, but the tears continued to flow. “I’m trying…trying to be strong,” she whimpered pitifully, “for Dashie…I just…I don’t know…I don’t know anymore…”
“You don’t have to be strong for us right now,” Rarity said. “Let us be strong for you.”
Author's Note
So much for updating sooner. Sadly, job requirements got in the way of getting this out sooner, and it took me at least another day and a rewrite before this chapter satisfied me. (Originally it was going to be told in flashback from Twilight's POV, but it didn't read as well.) I hope it was worth the wait.
Not much has been said of the Mane Six's parents, other than Twilight's (and even then, mostly in the IDW comics); it's fancanon that Applejack's parents are dead. We did see one of Dash's parents in the Equestrian Games episode, so I made two assumptions: that it was Dash's father, and that her father was a REAF veteran. We all try to follow in our father's footsteps, unconsciously or not, so it made sense that Rainbow Dash's love of the Wonderbolts was because of looking up to her dad. Somewhere it was mentioned that her dad's name was Bifrost, so I went with that.
One more chapter after this, an epilogue. No promises, but I'll try to get it out sooner...
Up the Long Delirious Blue
Dear Princess Celestia,
It’s been seven years now since Rainbow Dash died, and the loss still hurts—though it’s a soft hurt, if that makes any sense. A keen sense that a person you loved to be with is no longer there to enjoy the things you do. Oh, I believe Dashie’s spirit is still with us, just as Applejack believes that, when she sees shooting stars, it’s her parents’ way of checking up on the Apples.
Sometimes I feel Rainbow’s presence, and I’m often surprised how much still reminds me of her. A pegasi flying by at high speed overhead, a certain way a pony smiles…even just a piece of music. Yesterday, I put on a piece by DJ Pon-3 (not really my speed, as you know, but occasionally I like to dance to her when Spike's not around), and the years fall away. I close my eyes, and we’re all there, still young (well, young-er—we’re not exactly dead with old age!), and Rainbow Dash is as alive as ever. I can still hear her voice. I’ll never forget her face.
Highness, I’m not really sure what prompted this letter. It’s just that, I saw Scootaloo in her Wonderbolts uniform today—the first time she’s worn it—and it brought it all back. I’ll never forget that funeral. Even Discord’s funeral, despite the honors he got, comes close, but of course I was much closer to Dashie. (Discord. There’s a name I haven’t thought of in awhile. Who would’ve guessed he would sacrifice himself for Equestria? Fluttershy tells me that Discord existed/exists outside of time and space, so it’s strangely comforting that he might still be around someplace.)
I often catch myself wondering what might’ve been different. (Now that Ponyville is hosting the Equestria Games, maybe they’ll qualify for the aerial relay—Derpy tells me that she’s really confident this time. We’ll see.) Would Dashie be leading the Wonderbolts now? Spitfire’s getting close to retirement age, and Scootaloo, for all her ability, is still too young. Rainbow probably would be leading them. Would Chrysalis have gotten so powerful if the “Mane Six,” as we used to be called, have stopped her earlier? Could we have prevented that damn bookworm from eating all my books? At least the Elements are still safe—who would’ve guessed that the Elements would choose Trixie to be Rainbow’s replacement? I still have to chuckle at that, if for no other reason than my own hubris in thinking that no one would ever be able to wield Rainbow’s Element again. I was wrong, and I am glad I was. And I’m glad that, the last time I visited the human world, that Rainbow’s human counterpart is doing well (she’s a “soccer mom,” whatever that is.)
But what I said that day still rings true. Rainbow Dash was my friend; she was one of the greats, a true blue (heh) heroine, and the realm owes her much. (That statue that Luna had commissioned that sits in the square—someone wrote a letter to the Foal Free Press saying it should be torn down as an eyesore! Can you believe that?! Luckily Mayor Sweetcream Scoops put an end to that nonsense.) I thank all that’s good in the world every day that I was privledged to know Rainbow, and that she lived and did so much in her short lifetime. She’ll never be forgotten. If anything, her legend grows every day…though I wonder, what will happen when we are all gone? What will my friends and I be remembered for? In a thousand years, if Ponyville—if Equestria—still stands, what will they say about us?
Oh well. As Starswirl the Bearded once said, “History shall be kind to me, for I shall write it.”
In any case, Princess, I need to wrap up. Princess Cadence and my brother have their foals over here, and they’re driving me CRAZY! Seriously, I know my parents didn’t raise ME to be such a brat. And I sound like every sister-in-law/foalsitter ever. I hope this letter finds you in good health and enjoying your vacation.
As always, your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle
It was not the best day to be flying from Mareimar. There was a low ceiling of clouds and drizzling rain, and Spitfire had forbidden the pegasi to clear it; there were, she said, some days that it was good to sit down and take stock, and remember that there were some things ponies could not control.
For Scootaloo, that meant it was the perfect day for what she was about to attempt.
She made sure all the zippers on her Wonderbolts uniform were secure—the uniform was form-fitting for speed, and she would need every bit of extra speed she could get. A running start down Mareimar’s runway, and she was off. She made one circuit of the field, glad she had arranged this with the control tower—who thought it was insane, but looked the other way—then soared upwards. Her orange wings spread to catch the wind, shifting as necessary, unconsciously; it was seven years now, and Scootaloo was far from the young, almost flightless filly she had once been.
The gray clouds parted quickly enough, and she broke into blue sky. Scootaloo smiled, remembering one of the first pieces of advice Rainbow Dash had given her: if you climb high enough, you’ll always find the sun . Dash liked to say that; at Pinkie Pie’s insistence, it was inscribed on Dash’s monument in Ponyville. The clouds were still piled up here, in huge, towering white puffs that topped out far above. Since she had plenty of time (she hoped; if Spitfire found out Scootaloo’s intentions, there would be an unscheduled intercept practice for the Wonderbolt Academy), and knowing that Dash would probably think it awesome, Scootaloo flew into the periphery of the clouds. She rolled through them, spun them in circles, danced with them, wheeled through them, tumbled through them. Scootaloo laughed, with the sheer thrill of flying. She felt sorry for her friends, like Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, Babs Seed, and even Diamond Tiara, who would never know this feeling.
She broke deeper into the clouds, and cut through them, leaving curlicues of confused air behind her. They surrounded her on all sides, but where she flew through, the air was calm and easy. It was like flying in a cathedral, and Scootaloo’s laughter died in sheer awe. No matter what ponies could build, no matter how pegasi could mold the clouds, not even Princess Celestia was capable of sculpting this. She flew along, in complete silence, the only noise the fluttering of the wind through her feathers.
Scootaloo’s inner time sense told her that if she was going to do this, she needed to do it now. Spitfire was going to find out sooner or later. She gave a kick with her hooves—it was unconscious, but a quirk that she still did when she needed a running start to fly—and climbed. She climbed high, higher, until finally she passed through the clouds and out the other side. Now the clouds were spread out below her. Still Scootaloo climbed, until she felt the air getting thinner. There were limits to a pegasi’s ability, after all, and if she went too high, she would fall out of the air, or worse, go unconscious. Scootaloo shuddered. Lightning Dust had died in that way, climbing so high she couldn’t breathe. She had passed out and never woken up until her body shattered against the ground far below. Spitfire had put an end to attempts to beat Rainbow Dash’s record ever since. No other pony had tried.
Until now.
Scootaloo put out a hoof, as if to touch the moon, visible in the deep blue far above her. She said a brief prayer, a silent goodbye to her friends if this didn’t work. Back in her barracks room was a note to the other Crusaders in case she failed. But she wouldn’t fail.
Go for it, kid. You got this. Rainbow Dash’s voice was laughing in her ear.
Scootaloo took a breath, put her goggles down over her eyes, winged over, and dived. She tucked her wings against her body, kept her head level, and pressed her hooves back into her body. She dropped like an anvil. The wind howled around her body, buffeted her ears to the point where Scootaloo idly wondered if her eardrums would burst.
The first few thousand feet were no different from training or any other time she had flown—she was in control, and diving was easy. Then the buffeting began, as Scootaloo’s body began to feel the effects of such velocity, though not enough that she couldn’t feel her heart pounding. She remembered Rainbow Dash telling her about the buffeting, as Scootaloo had listened with rapt attention, pressing her heroine for more details. They served her well now. She slightly adjusted her course, wincing as she thought she might’ve adjusted it too much. Not too shallow, Scoots , she told herself, or you’ll never do it. Too steep and you’ll never pull out, and you’ll know then what Rainbow Dash, what Lightning Dust felt in those last seconds. She felt her teeth chattering, the wind blowing her lips to comical proportions.
Then her heart leapt as she felt the shockwave beginning. A white mist of air began to form in front of her—just as Dash said it would—and the feeling of being out of control passed. If she wasn’t afraid of her teeth shattering under the extreme velocity, then Scootaloo would’ve been grinning her plot off. Then her good feeling faded. The buffeting was getting worse, and it felt as if she was slowing down. No, I’m so close! I can do this! Scootaloo realized the air was getting thicker as she reached lower altitudes; she would have to make a decision soon or she would hit the ground—
And suddenly the air split around her.
Coincentric rings reflecting every color in the visible spectrum exploded outwards from Scootaloo. The clouds were no match for them; they were blown to pieces in microseconds. Scootaloo could not hear the sound her own passage made: it was too far behind her. It was heard in Mareimar, where it rattled Spitfire’s windows nearly out of their frames. It was heard in Canterlot, where even Luna awoke from her day’s sleep and blinked in confusion. And it was heard in Ponyville, where Pinkie Pie looked up awestruck at the rainbow shockwave filling the sky, where Rarity nearly swallowed the pins she held in her mouth for her wedding dress, where Applejack saw the apples shaken loose from the trees, where Fluttershy looked up from Angel Bunny’s grave and began cheering wildly, where Twilight Sparkle looked up from her letter and felt the moisture on her cheeks.
For the first time in seven years, the sound of a sonic rainboom sounded across Equestria.
Author's Note
So that's the end. Thanks for everyone who liked this story and read it, and especially the comments. This was not the easiest story to write, but I have to say I'm satisfied with the end result.
It would be interesting to explore a universe (ponyverse?) without any one of the Mane Six, and how different the series would be without any one of them. Just think about how different season 4 would be without, say, Applejack! I know other fanfic writers have done that, but it was neat to write about a different universe. A sacrificial Discord? A nearly victorious Chrysalis? Hmm...
Some references here to Winston Churchill (Twilight's actually quoting him, not Starswirl) and "The Right Stuff," where I got some inspiration for Scootaloo's rainboom attempt.
Finally, this story is dedicated to my dad--frustrated fighter pilot and Rainbow Dash fan--who passed away a few months ago. We miss you, pops. This one's for you.
