Five Dances in Dreamland

1

Knock-knock-knock!

Twilight took a step back from the blue door of Carousel Boutique. Spike had finished clipping his bow tie on. Twilight yawned. She looked back at the sky, whose golden glow still lingered. The sun still hung somewhere behind the horizon, and it sunk slowly.

The doorknob turned. Heart—

Twilight turned around to see the door swing open. A white button-up shirt, wrinkled, sleeves rolled, upon them, sparkling locks of amethyst hung from a face of white marble. "Hello, Twilight!" She beamed.

"Hey, Rarity—"

"Hello there, Spike!"

"Good evening, Rarity!"

"Come on in, both of you!" They followed her inside. Fluttershy and Applejack sat together on the couch, with Rainbow Dash lying relaxed on top of both of them. Fluttershy wore a lime long-sleeved shirt and a brown skirt; Applejack wore a plaid button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves and jeans. Rainbow Dash raised an arm. "'Sup, guys!" Fluttershy and Applejack both said hello, straining under Dash's weight.

The place was a mess; desks covered in rolls of fabric, sewing tools, and sketches. Rarity lugged a roll of fabric from one of the desks to put away. "I do apologize for the mess. Today's been quite a day!"

Twilight was looking around. "Don't worry, we don't mind; it's totally understandable. We're just sorry for being so late."

"Oh, you're not late; we never exactly arranged a time for you both to be here. And, honestly, it's given me some extra time to finish some things up before you got here."

Spike walked up ahead of Twilight, standing straight with hands behind his back. "Good evening, Rarity!" Already said that.

Rarity looked down at him. "Why, good evening, Spike!"

"I hope you've had a productive day working."

"Indeed I have! Thank you for asking! Oh, and I just love your little bow tie!"

"Thank you, Rarity."

Twilight had had her eyebrows raised and was looking away. She went over to the pile of girls on the couch. "So, how did this happen?"

Rainbow Dash pointed below her. "Hey, these guys make for good padding!"

Applejack grunted—"This is just what I get for tellin' Dash she's underweight."

Fluttershy peeped up—"I mean, she's not too heavy over here."

"Yeah, well y'all got the legs."

I could've been the one on that couch if I got here earlier.... Twilight laughed. "I'd be happy to take your place, Applejack."

"Naw, I won't make ya'll do that. I brought this on myself."

Rarity yelled over to the girls—"Does anyone know if Pinkie Pie is on her way?"

"Um, yeah," Twilight started her way back to Spike and Rarity, "she said she was gonna stop somewhere then meet us here."

"Good, good, so we'll just wait for her to get here before I unveil it, so to speak."

Spike elbowed Twilight—"She said she was gonna pick up milkshakes, right?"

Rainbow Dash threw a fist in the air—"All right!" She rolled over and tumbled off Applejack and Fluttershy, crashing on the floor. The girls broke out laughing.

Rarity picked up a cup of tea from her desk and turned back to Twilight and Spike. "Would you two like some tea? Coffee? Spike, I hear you drink coffee now."

Twilight patted Spike's shoulder. "No thanks, we're good. Spike had some earlier, and we both wanna get our rest for tomorrow.

Applejack had finished laughing and looked back at them. "What time are we all leavin' tomorrow? I thought the solar eclipse thing was at night."

"It's a—" Twilight and Rarity both started. Twilight chuckled and finished—"It's a lunar eclipse. And we have to be there early enough since the train ride to the site will be a couple of hours. The train leaves at eleven tomorrow, I think."

Fluttershy had stood up and was stretching. "Oh, so we can just do lunch on the train, right?"

"Uh-huh."

Rainbow Dash had decided to stick with her new spot on the floor, and Applejack had stretched out on the unoccupied couch.

Rarity finished a sip of tea. "That reminds me, Applejack, did you tell Sweetie Belle she needs to be home tonight?"

"Yeah, they're all havin' supper over at my place."

"Good, good, because she needs to be back in an hour so we can get her to bed."

Spike nudged Twilight's arm. "We'll be gone by then, right?"

Twilight smiled and rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, we won't be staying long." Spike sighed.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Rarity put down her tea and started for the door—"Oh, that will be Pinkie!"

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

"I'm coming, dear!" Rarity opened the front door and stood aside for Pinkie Pie's entrance. Pinkie stumbled in with her right knocking hand in a fist and her left hand clutching three cherry-topped milkshakes to her breasts. She blew a curl of hair out of her face.

"Jeez, there's gotta be a better way to carry all this stuff across..." She looked around the room, silently counting the people. "FUCK!"

"Pinkie—!" Twilight stopped herself.

Rarity shut the door. "What's wrong Pinkie?"

"Everyone's—I didn't—I only got—FUCK!"

Rainbow Dash jumped up—"Seriously, Pinkie?"

Pinkie started fake-crying—"I'm so so-orry, Rainbow Dash!" She gave Twilight and Spike their shakes while she blubbered.

"Don't worry about it, Pinkie," Fluttershy assured.

"Yeah, don' worry," Applejack picked up her hat from the floor and put her hat on her face. "We'll just all go together later!"

"Oh, okay!" Pinkie instantly better.

Spike handed Twilight the cherry from his milkshake. Twilight took it, rolled her lips around the shiny red bob and sucked it into her mouth.

Rarity had seen. "You didn't want yours, Spike?"

Twilight whispered, "He doesn't really like them." Spike kicked the back of Twilight's foot. Twilight glared at him.

Rarity hadn't seen. "Pinkie, dear—everyone, let's come gather around and see it now!" She strolled across the room and stepped behind a fold-out divider. Rainbow Dash, who had been playing red hands with Fluttershy, put her hand on Fluttershy's back and led her across the room. Applejack and Pinkie Pie stopped their conversation and started after them; Applejack looked puzzled at Pinkie, then Pinkie poked Applejack's freckled nose with a finger, grinned, and the two went.

"Now, since I did work so hard on this," Rarity started pulling a huge quilt from behind the divider—"If anyone drops so much as a crumb of food on it when we have our picnic, I will destroy you."

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash chuckled, "we'll have to leave you out in the mountains!"

"That goes for you too, Rainbow Dash," Rarity snapped. She brought the quilt before Spike and the girls. It was much wider than her arm's breadth.

Fluttershy whispered something to Rainbow Dash. Rarity struggled holding the quilt out for everyone to see. Fluttershy elbowed Rainbow Dash. Dash shrugged and stepped forward. "Here, I'll hold the other end, since I've already seen it."

"Why thank you, Rainbow Dash!" Dash grabbed the other end and she and Rarity stretched out the quilt to its full width. The quilt was the deepest blue, framed with silver embroidery. In the center, a huge, abstracted depiction of the red moon—a blood-red circle outlined with pale orange. Around the moon, in a circle, were stitched seven silver Art-Deco-styled stars, like eyes, amidst a web of flowery silver embellishments.

"Ooh, pretty!" Pinkie stood bent over looking at it.

"It's beautiful, Rarity!" Fluttershy had stepped forward next to Pinkie.

Rarity looked over the quilt. "What do you think, Twilight?"

Twilight stared into the blue space, the stars, the red moondisk. "It's—" she yawned, then laughed, "—sorry! It's-it's really nice, Rarity. Really. I love it."

Applejack pointed—"Is that really what the moon's gonna look like?"

Rarity nodded. "Mhm. Twilight showed me some pictures."

"How come it's red when it's gonna be night?"

Twilight explained, "Well, the sun, Earth, and moon will all be aligned. From the moon's point of view, the Earth will be completely blocking the sun, but some of the light passes through the edges of the Earth's atmosphere, so it lights the moon up red. It's the same reason why sunrises and sunsets are red."

"Huh. Not sure I get it, but it's alright. You sure put a lot of work into this, Rarity!"

"Let's just say it's my thanks to Twilight for coming up with the idea for this trip!"

"Yeah," Pinkie Pie turned around from the quilt—"and it was also her idea to do the schedule for the trip, but she still hasn't done it!"

Everyone looked at Twilight. She swallowed. "I mean, most of the day will probably just consist of hiking, right?"

"Yeah," Pinkie Pie grinned, "but you said we needed to figure out what trails we were gonna take and whatever before we get there!"

Twilight chuckled—"Pinkie, how do you even remember that...?"

Rainbow Dash poked her head out from behind the quilt—"Yeah, and I kinda wanna know who's bunking with who before we get to the cabin." She and Rarity began moving the quilt back to behind the divider.

Twilight swallowed—"Okay, don't worry; I plan on coming up with a schedule tonight. I promise."

Rainbow Dash and Rarity came back out. Dash fake-punched Pinkie Pie in the boob. "So hey, you gonna go grab us milkshakes or what?"

"Yup! But you guys are coming with me!"

"Oh," Fluttershy had gathered with them—"we could also do a late dinner if you all haven't already."

Twilight looked around the room. She spotted Rarity's cat, Opalescence, sleeping in a white ball of fur on the arm of the couch. Twilight took her milkshake and walked over to the couch, sat next to her, and started petting her white head. She purred and continued resting.

Rarity twirled across the room, giggling. "Oh, I am in such a good mood right now!" She dropped herself back and sat on the other end of the couch. Spike had followed her, then sat down with his milkshake on the couch in between Twilight and Rarity. Syzygy.

Twilight stared past the talking girls, into space, sipping her milkshake. I hope I don't have to write an entry complaining about today. Haven't been here in so long. This is where this all started—my second entry.

I have some free time today, so I decided to take this opportunity to write about the first incident I mentioned in my first entry. The events regard my friend Rarity, a talented fashion designer and the oldest of our group by a year. Writing about these events will be difficult, as I can't exactly transcribe the conversations verbatim, and my memory might be faulty in places. (I wish I had a spell that would help me remember. I have a spell that can stop things from fading from memory, but I know of no way to retrieve lost memories.) Nevertheless, I'll try.

Rarity had asked me to help model a dress for her. I've done it before, but for whatever reason I'm not usually the one she asks. She showed me the dress itself, and it was a lovely red—I don't have the fashion vocabulary to describe it beyond that. Anyway, we couldn't use the dressing room as usual for some reason—

"Oh, now Twilight, we won't be able to use the dressing room today; I'm using it to store some boxes for the time being—"

—so we just used one of those fold-up dividers so I could change.

"—would you mind changing behind the divider over by that desk?"

Twilight set her bag down by the door. "Uh, sure, that's fine!"

"Wonderful! I'll just hang it over there and I'll be waiting here whenever you're finished up!"

Twilight stepped out of her loafers and socks and slid them next to the doormat, then walked barefoot to the desk across the room. Rarity stood at another desk cutting some ribbon. "So, Twilight, what have you been keeping yourself busy with lately?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just some research. You probably wouldn't be interested."

"Oh come now, try me!"

Twilight laughed. "Well, I've started some research on comets and meteors for a report I'm going to do." She stepped behind the divider. The desk behind it was a mess of fabric and various instruments.

"That's right, we all went to see that meteor shower, didn't we. That was quite lovely."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"Mm. Oh, and there should be a clothes rack back there for you to hang up!"

"I see it, thanks!"

Rarity snipped her scissors loudly, humming. "I always enjoy designing things for you, Twilight; I really do enjoy working with that celestial aesthetic. It suits you so well!"

"Oh, well," not sure what to say, "thanks, Rarity!" Twilight looked at the red dress hanging on the divider behind her. "So what's this for?"

"The dress?" Rarity sighed, "Oh, just a little date I'm going on this weekend. It's nothing that special, really. I just haven't been out in so long."

"It's been so long, Rarity," Twilight started, "I've been meaning to ask, how did that date go?"

"Hm?

"The, the one, from way back—"

"Yes, that date! Well," Rarity sighed. "oh, he just wasn't my type."

"Really? Well that's too bad."

"Oh it's fine, dear. You know, I haven't even gone out since that night...."

"Sorry to hear that."

"It's certainly nothing for you to worry about, Twilight." Twilight the contrarian. Twilight smiled to herself and held her head up.

"HEY, RARITY!" Pinkie Pie screamed across the room, "WE'RE ABOUT TO GO GET MILKSHAKES; WHAT DO YOU WANT!?"

"Oh, nothing really." Rarity answered from across the divider. "Dinner...oh, and then there's going to be dancing!"

"Oh really?" Twilight had pulled off her argyle vest. "Sounds like a fun date! I always wished I knew how to dance. Don't think I've ever really danced before, now that I think about it."

"Really? I've always thought dancing was very befitting of you, Twilight."

Twilight laughed. "I'm not sure what that really means."

"Hm. I think I mean I just see you as someone who would look well on the dance floor. Maybe it's something you should try for yourself!"

Twilight started unbuttoning her shirt. "Dancing? Like dancing dancing?"

Rarity laughed. "That dancing, yes." Snip, snip, snip.

"I don't know the first thing about dancing! I couldn't tell you the difference between a waltz and a...um, something else; I can't even think of another dancing term I know."

"A waltz is just a type of triple-meter dance; so it's in three."

"'Three?' So like—"

"So like, 'one-two-three, one-two-three...'"

"Well, I mean I'd just have no idea what to do once I got out there on the floor." She slipped out of her shirt and hung it on a hanger with her vest.

"Oh come now, Twilight, you don't have to have taken lessons for what I'm doing. It's not like this is some professional ballroom dancing competition I'm going to."

"Have you ever been to one?"

"Well, an amateur one, yes, but that's not the point. I'm sure you'll find that if you just make yourself get out there, your body will do the rest, and it feels simply orgasmic. Maybe I could show some steps to you some time."

Twilight unzipped and dropped her jeans.

Rarity hummed a sigh. "I do hope I've kept up with my figure well enough, though."

"I am still trying to keep up with my figure, but I do appreciate the offer, Pinkie. And, oh—" Rarity stood up and strolled to the doorway where the girls were readying to leave. While the girls proposed that they could do dinner after all, Rarity reached for her purse sitting by the door and pulled out a little coin purse. "I was the one who dragged you girls over here, after all." She collected some coins and handed them to Pinkie Pie.

"No, Rarity, come on, you don't—"

"No, no, no, I insist!"

"You know, Rarity," Twilight called from the couch, "I could pay half or something if you want; the trip was my idea and all, and that's kinda why we're all here, you know—"

"You know, Rarity," Spike called from the couch, "I don't think you need to watch you weight; you look beautiful just the way you are!" Twilight and Rarity stared at him. The other girls were talking about something. Twilight grabbed Spike's milkshake, then the back of his green head, and shoved the straw into his mouth, burying his face in whipped cream, letting him suck up the milky white. She looked away with furrowed brow.

Rarity gasped, then giggled. "Why, thank you, Spike." She put her coin bag back in her purse. "And thank you, Twilight, but it really is quite alright." She strolled back over to the couch.

Rainbow Dash grabbed the doorhandle—"Hey AJ, I'll race ya!"

Applejack grinned—"Oh yeah?"

Fluttershy gestured to her skirt and chuckled—"I don't think I could really keep up in this—"

Dash smirked at Applejack—"You just walk with Pinkie then; this'll just be the two of us!"

Pinkie Pie pushed Rainbow Dash—"Aw, girl, you just know I'd whoop both your asses!"

Fluttershy laughed—"Oh, Pinkie!"

"Oh, Twilight? Do you see a little blue measuring tape back there?"

Twilight had just hung her jeans on the rack. "Um," She looked back at the huge clutter on the desk. She reached a hand to try to move aside some of it, then changed her mind. "You said it's blue?"

"Yes—it's just this little thing—"

"Uuh, I don't think I see it...."

"Here—" Rarity's footsteps came over. "Oh,"

Knock, knock, knock!

"Can I come behind? Are you still dressing?"

"Um, yeah, you can come behind."

"You sure? I can wait."

"No, no, it's fine."

Rarity slid back the divider a tad and stepped behind. "Sorry about that." Twilight stood there, with nothing but lavender bra and panties on her little chestnut brown body. Rarity went over to the desk and moved aside some of the clutter. Then she opened up a drawer and found the little blue measuring tape. "Here we are!" She pulled it out and shut the drawer. She glanced back at Twilight before walking out from behind the divider again. "You know, Twilight, if you don't mind me saying, you have a very nice body."

"Thanks Rarity!" Pinkie pocketed the money Rarity had given them.

A hand slapped Spike's shoulder from behind—he jumped and spewed from his mouth a quick tongue of green fire. He looked back at Applejack behind him.

"Woah, careful there, dragon boy! Alright y'all we're gonna head out now."

Spike put a hand to his chest. "Sorry, Applejack, my stomach's not feeling good today."

"It's alright hon'."

Rarity turned back and patted Applejack's shoulder. "Alright, well, thanks for dropping by, Applejack!"

"Sure thing!"

Twilight waved—"Bye, Applejack!"

"Later, Twi!" Applejack started for the door.

Rainbow Dash opened the door—"See you guys tomorrow!"

Applejack waved—"Bright 'n' early!"

Fluttershy too—"Bye, guys!"

Twilight, Spike, and Rarity all waved goodbye as the girls walked into the blue evening and shut the door. Rarity looked back at the other two. Twilight had gone back to petting Opal. Spike was wiping the ash and whipped cream from his face.

"Here Spike," Rarity stood up—"I'll go get you a napkin."

"Oh...um...well..." Twilight swallowed—"thank you, Rarity."

"I really do mean it, you know. I'd never lie to a girl about something like that." Snip, snip, snip.

"No, yeah, I really do appreciate it, though." Twilight fiddled with the fabric of the red dress hanging behind her. "No one's really ever seen my body before...let alone, you know, complimented it." Twilight's arm fell. She stared at the ground.

Snip, snip—. "Might I assume there's something on your mind?"

Twilight sighed. "Yeah, sort of."

Snip—. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Twilight took a deep breath. "So...I had to go to Canterlot to visit Princess Celestia a few months back, right?" No response. "So, while I was there...or, when I was about to come back...you know, waiting at the train station...and there was this little outdoor café over by the station. And yeah, I was waiting for my train there...I had a cup of coffee since I had to stay up that night and I have trouble sleeping on trains anyway..." She swallowed. "Then this guy comes by the café...and I see him coming—I'm sitting there reading—and then I think he saw me looking at him, and I just look away, you know...I think he smiled at me, but I don't remember...but he's this tall, pretty fit guy; I was pretty sure he was one of the Royal Guard...he didn't have a helmet on him though...anyway, when he was in line, I looked at him behind me, and I guess he saw me look at him again, and he smiled at me again; he definitely did that time...he had a great smile, by the way...then later, when he was done, I guess, he comes over...oh, and yeah, the café does the thing where they label your drinks, and I guess he saw mine, 'cause he came over and says that he saw what I'd gotten, so he figured he'd try it too...I didn't know what to say, but I sorta said something like "oh, really?" or whatever, right when he went over to grab napkins at the counter...then he comes back to my table and drops one of the napkins next to me...then he left...I look at the napkin, and he had written his mail address on it....

"So then, when I get home, I start freaking out, because I had to write to him now, since he didn't have my address so I couldn't just wait for him to do it, and I had no idea what to write...I started some drafts, but I couldn't come up with anything that sounded good...so eventually, after a day or two...I dunno, maybe more, I came up with something introducing myself and saying I'd like to meet him or whatever...." She sniffed—"And it's been, like, three months now...and I still...you know, I still..." Footsteps. "I dunno if I got the address wrong, somehow...or it didn't make it somehow—if the letter didn't make it...or if, like, he couldn't think of anything either...or if he didn't...if he just wasn't..."

Knock, knock, knock.

Rarity folded the divider back again and came in. Twilight looked up at her, standing in her underwear, leaning on the desk. Her mouth hung open. Rarity walked over. "Oh, Twilight..." She wrapped her white arms around Twilight, and hugged her bare skin tight. Twilight buried her face in Rarity's shoulder and cried.

"I...I..."

"Shhh..." Rarity patted Twilight's back. "Here, come with me." Rarity clasped Twilight's hand and led her to and up the stairs. Twilight kept her face buried in Rarity as they climbed. When they reached the top, she heard Rarity open a door—her bedroom. She walked Twilight across the room and sat her down on her bed next to her. Twilight was sobbing now, big globby messy lip quiver tears. "Oh, Twilight..." Rarity hugged Twilight, whose head slipped out of her grasp, falling down over Rarity's perfect breasts and into the soft of her lap. She buried her face between her legs and muffled her sobbing. Rarity started petting Twilight's purple head. She rocked her there, sitting on the bed. She started humming something. A song. Then she began singing the words. It was French. Perfect, fluent French. Mesmerizing French.

Twilight's tears soaked into the fabric of Rarity's pants in her lap. Her lap was wet now. Twilight made it wet. Somewhere there, under her head, hiding, mounds, and folds, and flesh, and wet—like her own. A tongue lapping? Could she? There in that lap, a head crying, cradled, a gentle rocking, a lullaby, and just above, swinging molds, heavy with loving milk. Then lips—a woman's.

And then: the hand she held in hers her whole life—a man's hand, tendons and bones—now a soft hand, a mother's hand. And then: the lips she kissed her whole life—a man's lips, those of a hero's face—now wore red, and whispered lullabies. Her body was moist all over.

Twilight's voice grew weak. She lay heaving shaky breaths. Rarity finished her song. She kept rocking her. A buzzing silence. Twilight heaved one big sigh. She could just sleep here. Everything felt tired now. Let her sleep for what she has endured.

Twilight turned her head and lifted it up a little. She sniffed. "What was that?"

Rarity was quiet. "Hm?"

"That song."

"Oh," she heaved a sigh, "just something my mother used to sing to me...."

Rarity came back to the room. She was humming that song. That song. She walked back to the couch with a handful of napkins and handed them to Spike.

"Thanks, Rarity."

"You're very welcome, Spike."

I've relived this encounter every day since it happened. The moment she knocked to come behind and see me, the moment she hugged me, the moment she cradled me and sang to me, she did all these things for me, for my sake.

I have this vision: I've found out the name of the song; I've learned how to sing it; I find some moment when we're alone together again, and I sing it casually around her. She'll surely recognize it. She'll be taken by my desire to share something of hers with her, and by the effort I took to do so—and then it will happen. I don't know what it will be, and I don't know what I even want it to be. Maybe I just want whatever I'm feeling to be vindicated. Maybe I Maybe I do love her. Maybe And I Maybe I do want us to embrace each other, rip off our clothes, and make violent love right then and there.

Spike finished wiping his face. He looked up at Rarity. "Hey, Rarity, what song is that?"

"Oh, it's just this little song I've known since I was a girl. It's called..." Twilight looked over and watched Rarity's lips squeeze and curl in saying the foreign name of the song. With all her might, she tried to commit to memory what Rarity said. Twilight reached for her bag at her feet and pulled out the black journal and a pencil. She turned to the first empty page and wrote down all she could remember of what she heard:

Sula pono...

Twilight shut her journal and started packing up. "Well, we should probably get back home about now. I still got some work to do, and Spike and I gotta pack for tomorrow."

"Okay then!" Rarity stood up from the couch. "I certainly won't keep you waiting here any longer." She put a hand to her head—"Oh, dear..." She chuckled.

Spike stood up—"What's wrong, Rarity?"

"Oh, nothing, I'm just having a bit of déjà vu right now."

Twilight stood up, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Déjà vu is certainly a perplexing phenomenon. I think it can sometimes happen when one is tired or fatigued."

"Well, I've certainly been keeping myself busy. Oh, now it's reminding me of this dream I had last night..."

"What was the dream about?" Spike asked.

"Hm. I can't say I remember, Spike. One always has trouble remembering these things."

Twilight gave Opal a last pet to say goodbye. "You know, I have a spell for that, Rarity."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, it can't make you remember things you've forgotten, but it can keep something in your memory before you forget it."

"Interesting."

"I've never used it myself, though. You have to be careful with it, since if you're not careful you can make it so that you can't forget anything, and I think it can kinda overload your head if you do that. Nevertheless, I could still teach it to you sometime!"

"I would very much like that, Twilight!" Rarity headed for the door. "Well, you two should probably be on your way about now."

"Yeah, I guess." Twilight followed her to the door, then Spike.

"I'll see you two tomorrow! I hope you get all the work you need to do done by then!"

"I will. I'll get that schedule for tomorrow done, too."

"Well, don't overwork yourself!"

"I won't!"

"Bye, little Spikey!"

Spike waved. "Goodbye, Rarity!"

"Sleep well, Twilight!"

2

The sky was a color prison. Layer upon layer, fathoms high, of blue, bleak blue, monotonous, obsessive blue, thick and invisible. Massive tons of world, endless beyond horizons, imperceptibly sinking nowhere. Clouds hung frozen in towering columns of humid heat. The atmosphere compressed the air into suffocating gas. The sun had retreated, but she was still watching, somewhere.

Twilight Sparkle yawned. It made her eyes water. She blinked her moist eyes and walked with foggy sight through the still streets. She was in her bed already.

Spike looked up at her. "Hey, Twilight?"

Twilight smiled. She looked down at him. "Yeah, Spike?"

"You ever have that moment, when you're dreaming, where you're in a real place, but it doesn't look anything like it does in real life?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I mean...so like, say I'm at home in the dream, and I know that it's our house, but it doesn't really look like our house does in real life."

"Hm.... I can't say I have. I haven't even really had any dreams in a while."

"Well, I've had it a couple of times." He looked down at his feet as they walked. Twilight looked back to the road. "Hey, Twilight, do you know what dreams are for?"

He dreams about her. "Hm. I don't really know much about them. People have some ideas, but from what I've read, no one really knows."

"Has Princess Luna ever visited you in a dream before?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, me neither. I think it'd be kinda weird, you know?"

"Well, she only does it to people who need her help. And I'm sure she doesn't want to invade people's privacy either."

"I mean, I didn't mean I had something private going on!"

"Okay, okay, Spike, whatever."

Twilight looked back to the road. Up ahead sat a bench next to a lit lamppost. On it sat a girl, about Twilight's age. The girl was small, thin, with chocolate skin and short, black hair. She wore a lavender tank top and jeans. She sat there, smiling, with a book in her hand. She was writing in it. Drawing perhaps?

She again. Always on her own, scribbling in that book. To walk up to her. To ask for her name. To know her. At any other time of the day, she was forgettable enough to never pay mind to; but when seeing her, she was intriguing enough to ponder endlessly about. What was she writing?

Well, I've never kept a personal journal before. I know it's the stereotypical girly thing to do, especially when growing up, but I never did; I pretty much just stuck to reading. The only writing I do is for research; I can't say I do much personal writing beyond the occasional letter, and I certainly don't do any creative writing. (This isn't entirely true; I've accidentally broken into a more poetic register in my writing before, and I have a special violet ink that I use to write little bits of prose on scratch paper.) But since I've never kept a journal before, I'm not exactly sure how to start. I don't know whether I should write an introduction for myself, or just assume that "you" know all of my background. I suppose I'll chose the former, just for completeness's sake.

Anyway, my name is Twilight Sparkle. I'm twenty-one years old. I'm a magician and student under Princess Celestia. I live with my dragon-blooded assistant, Spike, who is twelve years old now and with whom I've lived my whole life (or his whole life, I suppose). For over a year now, I've lived in the small town of Ponyville under a commission to study friendship as a sociological phenomenon. In doing so, I've become close friends with five other girls around my age here in town: their names are Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie.

Now for the personal stuff, I guess: I've started this journal because of some recent events that have come up, regarding my "love life." I put quotes there because, as I already wrote, I spent most of my growing up years on my own reading, and thus I've never had a boyfriend in my life. I've certainly never had sex. I've never even kissed anyone. It's only these recent events that have brought into focus the starkness of these facts.

But I've felt inadequate about my life before. What complicates my situation even more is the fact that I've started to take what I can only assume is an interest in girls—and these girls just happen to be my five closest friends. I know I'm not a lesbian; I grew up liking boys like any normal girl would. But I can't think of a word for how I feel when I'm around them. I don't think there's a word in the English language for how I feel. It's not really physical attraction, and it can't be a crush. I've never liked a girl before, so why would I randomly start liking girls now? And it's not like my friends are what I could call my "type": Fluttershy is a pushover and impossible to open up; Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie are loud and obnoxious; Applejack is too—for lack of a better word—uncultured; and Rarity is, perhaps, too cultured.

But I definitely feel something, and it's clearly gotten distracting enough that I've taken a break from my studies to start writing a personal journal about it. No book I've read will tell what these feelings are. No book I've read will tell me what I should do. This is my story, and my story has yet to be told.

Twilight and Spike walked along the path in the dying evening light back to the library. Twilight opened the door and let Spike in before her. She took a look back at the sky. Venus had appeared, and shone perfectly through the blue, cloudy cloak. Twilight sighed and went inside.

Twilight shut the door behind them. She slipped herself out of her loafers and socks, and Spike kicked off his sneakers.

"Make sure those are by the door, Spike." Spike shoved them back to the mat next to Twilight's shoes. Twilight looked at her watch. "So, Spike..." she yawned, "it's almost 9:30 now...um, did you get something to eat while I was napping this afternoon?"

"I had a snack, yeah."

"Well...it's a bit too late to be cooking anything now, and I have to get to work, so could you just make yourself a sandwich or something?"

"Sure, I can do that."

"And you still have to finish packing, right?"

"Yeah, just a couple of things."

"Okay." Twilight started for the bookshelf. "Just make sure you don't forget your toiletries for the cabin."

"Okay, okay."

"Oh, and don't forget to brush your teeth before bed!"

"Yeah, I know!"

Twilight dropped her bag, turned to the bookshelf, and started skimming through. She felt her legs ache. The fall? All the walking? She grabbed the wooden ladder and rolled it with her over to the literature section. She climbed up and found "E" and "F." Her eyes darted around her collection; she rolled her fingers across the spines. She found a book: An English-French French-English Dictionary. She pulled it out and threw it into her bag. Another: French Language Music, The Folk Song, then Folk Songs of the Past Two Centuries. Nothing else up here. She started down the ladder, picking up a few more books as she went.

A drawer shut in the kitchen. Spike came walking out barefoot. Twilight turned around. He carried a plate with a sandwich on it. Doesn't usually eat lettuce. He took it across into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him. "He's getting to be around that age, right? We both know all that's gotta go somewhere." Twilight shook her head of the thought..

Twilight threw her bag back over her shoulder. She heaved her pile of books in her arms and started trudging to the stairs. She stopped. She lowered the pile to the ground, then snapped her fingers and the pile of books slowly rose to her shoulder height. With the pile floating next to her, she climbed the steps up to the bedroom and opened the door. Spike's clip-on bow tie and his half-eaten sandwich sat on the nightstand. Twilight walked in and set her bag and the pile down on the floor next to Spike's lower bunk bed. She pulled her black journal from her bag and flipped through to the page where she penciled in her note:

Sula pono...

Twilight took her journal and climbed up to her upper bunk, sat herself down, and summoned over her English-French French-English Dictionary. She opened it. The first half was the French-English section. She flipped to "S," running her finger down the list of words. She found the word "sujétion"—meaning "subjection," or "constraint"—but the next word was "sulcus"—same as the English "sulcus." There was no "sula" nor any word beginning with "sula." Not even a "sul."

Twilight furrowed her brow. Not surprised, though. I didn't even know where the separations of the words were when she said it. She looked at her watch. 9:47.

She turned a page back. There was no "su" entry. She found "suc," meaning "juice." Can't be. Twilight looked along, finding all the short words she could. "Sud"—she moved her finger down—"suer"—she wiped her forehead—"suie"—she grabbed her pencil and started writing these down. When she thought she had found enough, she summoned up her song books. She leafed through the glossaries and indexes, looking for matches. French Language Music had nothing. She lowered it down back to Spike's bed. Twilight rubbed the inside of her aching thigh. The Folk Song had nothing. She slammed its cover shut and sent it down. Folk Songs had nothing. She looked at her watch. 10:11.

Twilight slammed the last book shut. She threw it aside for it to plop down on Spike's bed with the others. She cupped her face in her hands and sat. Sitting in a train with them. Hiking, sweaty in the summer heat. Sitting under the stars with them. Sleeping in a bed with them. In the dark she couldn't tell them. There were no words, and no time to say them. In the dark she couldn't see them—if they ached for her—if they despised her. They danced like dolls around in her head. On strings—faceless dolls—they caressed her then looked away—they molested her then went on their way—they spoke of love then ignored her confession—the apophenia of obsession.

Twilight pried her face from her hands. She blinked her blurry eyes. She pushed herself off her bed and climbed down from her bunk. Her legs still sore. She looked across the room. Owloysius sat awake, perched by the balcony window, looking outside. Twilight walked over and petted him. She lifted his brown-feathered body onto her arm and opened the balcony door. Twilight raised her arm. He opened up his huge wings and took off from Twilight's arm, flapping over the scattered lit-windowed Ponyville houses.

She came back inside the bedroom. She walked over her podium and looked through a pile of scattered notes. She found a letter signed by Princess Celestia from two months ago. It ended with:

I hope this has been helpful, Twilight. If you have anything more specific you would be willing to discuss, you will always be welcome to the next time you visit. Simply remember to do what your heart tells you, and always be yourself, and love will surely find you.

Twilight crumpled up the letter in one hand, then tossed it aside onto the floor. She grimaced, rubbing her thigh again. Maybe she would be too hurt to hike. Maybe she could be sick tomorrow. Or she could have forgotten some work she has to do. An emergency trip to Canterlot. Something came up, she'd have to see Princess Celestia. She might even go to Canterlot, just to make it more plausible. See Princess Celestia. Tell her everything. Ask for a reassignment.

Twilight walked to her nightstand and picked up her quill and ink. She sat on Spike's bed, taking her journal and turning to the first blank page.

"Sometimes I feel that when she sent me to study friendship, Princess Celestia intentionally set me up to end up in this situation. After all, what force exists that prevents friendship from turning to love? If there isn't one, then shouldn't we all expect friendship to inevitably become love? What kind of friendship is it that allows us to be there for one another, care for one another, and confide in one another; while preventing us from touching one another, pleasuring one another, and loving one another? And what kind of friend will care for me, but only to an extent?

Twilight sighed. She started yawning as she replaced her quill and ink back on the nightstand. She reached over for "French Language Music" again and looked through the "S" section of the index. Still couldn't find anything. She dropped it there, left open ,and laid herself out on Spike's bed. Just then, the door opened, and Spike walked in.

"Hey, what are you doing on my bed?"

Twilight put her hands on her face. "My legs are still a little sore, and I didn't wanna climb up to mine."

"You gonna make me sleep on the couch?" Twilight just groaned. "You alright?"

"No, yeah, really, it's just my legs, and I'm tired."

Spike looked down at the books Twilight had thrown on his bed. "This isn't what you're working on, is it?"

"Right now, I'm laying down, so no."

Spike found the opened index page. "Is this about Rarity's song?"

Twilight just laid there. "I was curious."

Spike sat down and looked down through the page. "This one? 'Sir la pont...ow pies...des...reeves?'"

"No." Twilight sighed. "I couldn't find it."

"I think this is it, Twilight. You sure?"

"Yes. Wait, what was the first word in that one?"

"'Sir.' Or 'soor' or something."

"Spell it?"

"It's 'S,' 'U,' 'R.' But Rarity told me how you don't really say a lot of the letters in French words, so I dunno."

Why'd she tell him that. "Yeah, that's not right. It can't be. Wait, hold on," Twilight started to lean up, "could you hand that to me?" Spike lifted the open book to her and pointed out the entry:

"Sur le Pont au Pays des Rêves"

Twilight sounded it out. "Sir la pont...sur la pont...sua la pont...sula pon—" Twilight pushed herself off the bed and walked over to her podium with the book, turning to the page given in the index. She found the words. All of them. "Sur le Pont au Pays des Rêves": a children's song. She ran over and leaped onto the bed, snatching her journal, quill, and ink, and running them back over to the book. She ripped open her journal to a random page—I've relived this encounter every day since it happened....—then scribbled in the foreign words as legibly as she could in the margins.

Twilight slapped her quill down on the podium. She took a deep breath. She beamed. Her heart bubbled. She spun around on a naked foot and strolled over to where Spike sat confused on his bed. She leaned over and kissed his green spiky head. "Thanks, Spike!"

Twilight turned again and threw open her closet door. She grabbed a tiny red suitcase that sat under her gala dress and dragged it out of the closet. "Are you finished packing, Spike?"

"Um, yeah, almost."

Twilight dragged her suitcase over to the door, picked up the paper bag of sunscreen and summer clothes, and carried them all downstairs, setting them by the couch. She started back for the stairs, but not before a stop by the bathroom. She dropped her skirt and panties and sat on the toilet.

I'll find some moment when we're alone together again, and I sing it casually around her. She'll be taken by my desire to share something of hers with her, and by the effort I took to do so—and then it will happen. I don't know what it will be, and I don't know what I even want it to be. Maybe I do want us to embrace each other, rip off our clothes, and make violent love right then and there.

"I always wished I knew how to dance." "Maybe I could show some steps to you some time. It feels simply orgasmic. Can I come behind? If you don't mind me saying, you have a very nice—"

Twilight squeezed her hands between her legs and clenched her thighs together, her body squirting her fluids into her hands, convulsing, seizing—her head fell back, she smiled, eyes closed, to the air—she rubbed her body, riding it, on her hands, fingers, all the way through.

Twilight only bothered to wipe her hands clean before leaving the bathroom. She sighed and climbed the back up the steps. She opened her bedroom door.

No.

Spike sat on the bed, the black journal in opened in front of him.

"SPIKE!"

Spike jumped—a green flame flew from his mouth and enveloped the pages.

"SPIKE!" Twilight rushed over—she grabbed the journal from him—hot—she dropped it to the wooden floor—how—put it out—she dropped down and looked at the green-burning open page—her scribbles: "Sur le Pont de..."—she threw her hands up to her head—a violet glow—the flame was consuming the page—brighter—the ink almost faded—SNAP.

All of the words were there—they remained—etched before her eyes. Twilight sighed. Her vision blurred as she moved her eyes. She held her hands toward the book on the ground and shot out a burst of white chemical spray. The fire vanished.

She turned around. Her head ached. The words were still vivid in her vision. Spike had fallen to the ground. His mouth hung open; his eyes watered.

"I...I..."

Twilight looked down at him. "Spike. I want you—" Searing—knives—her head—the whole world blurred—she clutched her forehead—turned and fell back on her bed.

Spike jumped up—"Twilight, what's wrong?"

"The—" Twilight grimaced—"the memory—the memory spell—my head—" She dragged herself into the bed and curled up as the world started to fade. "I just—just need—" Her heartbeat echoed throughout her body and around in her head.

...dk-dk, dk-dk...

"—water—"

Spike ran out of the room and down the stairs. Twilight slid her lids open. The world pulsed in color. It rocked and spun. It melted. Her eyes watered. Ahead of her, her closet door hung open. Her blue gala dress hung inside. It was turning grey. Everything grey.

...dnt-dnt, dnt-dnt...

Spike rushed back in with a dripping glass of water and shoved it into Twilight's face. Twilight's arms flailed around until she grabbed it, and drank full the glass, spilling it all over her face. She finished it and gasped. Her arm fell over the edge of the bed and the glass dropped and shattered.

"Twilight!"

Spike faded.

                   Her room disappeared.

                                                     Clouds consumed everything.

Blue.

Grey.

Black.

At last, sleep.

...

..."T— —t!"...

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...dm-dm, dm-dm...

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...dm, dm, dm...

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