Prologue
Harry Potter was tired.
He was tired of the Wizarding World and its fickle nature.
Tired of the demands he do this or that or marry him or her.
Tired of watching all those around him grow old while he stayed young, of watching them marry and have children or get good jobs, while he remained stagnant, unable to settle with anyone in fear of manipulation or out-living both them and whatever children they had.
Tired of being alone, but for the shadowy figure that constantly stalked his steps, like a particularly smug cat.
"Come now, Dearest," said figure whispered in the cold winter air (it was always strongest in winter and fall, when the world around them was dying, weakest in spring and summer when new life rose and came into being). "Thou dost not think so little of this one, dost thou? Truly?" Silk-soft fingers trailed lightly across his sharp cheekbone, leaving a numbness that had nothing to do with the cold, the cells and flesh blackening briefly as it died, before the blackness faded and his skin was once more icy pale with the barest tinge of pink from the cold wind. Harry hunched his shoulders and continued to walk through the Muggle Park, moving towards the small pond and his favorite bench.
"Leave me be, Marwolaeth," he murmured, the Welsh word falling softly off his tongue; the shadow chuckled, the sound a mixture of rattling bones and the fall of grave dirt onto a coffin.
"If only it were so simply, Dearest," she murmured to him under the skittering sound of dead leaves blown across the sidewalk. Harry bit back a sigh, and gingerly sat himself down on the bench, ignoring the sharp, cold feeling of the chilled metal. The spectre stood behind him, arms settling around his chest, head nestling onto his shoulder as the thin wispy shadows of hair trailed opposite of the wind, caressing his face and leaving numbness behind, her barely-there presence making his heart falter, his lungs grasp desperately for air, even as he closed his eyes and gave a tired sigh.
"What do you want, then?" He asked wearily, opening his eyes halfway. From the very edge of his vision, he could barely make out her bone-white, skeletal face, the pale strands of her hair, like spider webs spun from bits of ice, flowed towards him as the blank, black sockets, filled deeply with the cries and whispers of the dead, were locked on his face, a gruesome smile stretching across her face and exposing her blackened, piranha-like teeth.
"This one dost only wish to please thee, Dearest," she whispered, mouth unmoving, the briefest whiff of rot and freshly-turned earth sliding through the air.
"And what do you think would please me now, Marwolaeth? It better not be another undying harem made up of the souls of warrior women and men, again," he added, narrowing his eyes as he stared forward, watching the morbid grin on the spectre's face widen inhumanely, giving her the appearance of a skull. "I've told you before, carnal delights aren't to my fancy."
"Nay, 'tis not a harem, Dearest," she replied, the edge of amusement falling softly on his ears, like an unending slumber at the end of ones life. "But this one hast decided that Dearest could do with a traveling holiday, and this one knows of many lands in which Dearest may settle for a life, in many different worlds and realms." Harry blinked, and resisted the urge to look at the spectre, knowing that doing so would cause an unholy amount of agony in his head, and stop his heart for fifteen minutes, before it painfully restarted like the most atrocious of heartburns to ever exist.
"A holiday," he murmured quietly to himself, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "In a different world...?" The spectre nodded, neck cracking like a broken bone and shattering glass.
"Indeed, Dearest," she whispered seductively against his mind, like maggots digging into a rotting corpse and the cocoon of eternal blackness coiling about him. "Many worlds with many Magic's and creatures. Worlds of peace and war, plenty and famine. Worlds and worlds, Dearest. All of them fit for the taking," she hissed, a snake sliding over stone, the last breath of air pulled from the dying’s lips. "If thou dost wish it so, of course. This one would never seek to undermine Dearest's authority," she murmured placatingly, the sound of silk sliding in a coffin, clothe rustling, thunder in the distance. Harry hummed once, to acknowledge her statement, no more, no less.
"How would this 'holiday' happen?" Harry asked after several minutes of contemplation, ignoring the grin that all but cut the spectre's face in two.
"This one would simply take Dearest into the Void, where thou could choose which world thou dost wish to visit. Then, this one would get into contact with this one's elder sister and younger cousin, whom represent the power of Life and Destiny, and thou would be integrated into that world."
"Hmm," Harry replied absently, closing his eyes as he concentrated. A new world, one he could choose, one he could set stipulations for. One where he wasn’t The Boy-Who-Lived, the Vanquisher of Voldemort, or the Immortal Savior as he was here.
One where he could be Just Harry…
“Very well,” Harry said, finally, leaning his head back and looking up at the sky with a small smile on his thin face. “Let’s get started, hmm?” Marwolaeth gave a pleased sound that echoed like the silence of a newly emptied house, and, in a swirl of blackness, the two disappeared, into the Void, where only the gods traveled… And now Harry.
There was no physicality in the Void, only Awareness. Like a thought floating in space, there was nothing tangible, and, for the first few discombobulating minutes, Harry couldn’t tell up from down, depth, anything, until Marwolaeth’s numbing presence anchored him, surrounding his absolutely miniscule presence in her vast awareness, showing him, once and for all, that, though he was Master of Death, she was no slave, and, if it no longer amused her, she could crush him into nothingness and destroy him past death, forbidding him from the Afterlife.
It both terrified and humbled him, and he knew that, here in the Void, she could see that, because, seconds after the realization, her massive, suffocating power gentled, cradled instead of strangled, and became more affectionate than anything.
“What sort of world does Dearest wish to visit, hmm?” she whispered around him, and he began to consider.
“One with magic,” he told her, or, well, thought at her, really, as no body meant no mouth or vocal cords to speak with. Immediately, tiny lights, like stars in the blackness of the Void, began to gently light up. Worlds, he thought in awe and no small part of unease. Thousands of millions of worlds.
“Thou whilst need to be more specific, Dearest,” Marwolaeth murmured. “This one require specifics, else Dearest will have too many worlds for his comprehension.” Harry agreed, and began to name stipulations, watching the lights dwindle with each one.
Magic, intelligent beings, mostly peaceful, somewhere he can settle and have a family, somewhere his abnormally long life will be seen as normal. Somewhere he can fly and not be seen as a freak. Somewhere he could make friends, find love, settle down and be happy.
The worlds dwindled down as he continued, his stipulations becoming more random and less vague as he thought them up, until there were only six worlds left.
“It is now up to thee, Dearest,” Marwolaeth declared quietly, pulling the worlds closer, until they formed six, silver mirrors, peering into the different worlds. Harry focused on them, and began to peer into their depths.
One world was full of dragons and people, working and fighting side-by-side. This world had magic, but it was only held by the dragons, able to speak and grow to sizes that boggled the mind. War was occasional, but bloody and long remembered.
Harry moved on.
The second world was full of people who played a sort of card game, battling monsters and spells and traps. Objects in it held great powers, and war was occasional, as it was in most Muggle worlds, Harry had noticed.
Harry moved on.
The third world was plain, but for the presence of magical beings that protected the world, led by the being that resided in the Moon, with a few enemies that these five beings defended against.
Harry moved on.
The fourth world had a bunch of people, good and bad, which had super powers. They clashed often, but not to war-levels.
Harry moved on.
The fifth world seemed to focus around a single family, all of them dark and gothic-looking, and their escapades. Apparently, the rest of the world had bright, happy people that made Harry think of Umbridge, only without the viciousness, and this family was the polar opposite, dark and vile and enjoying every second of it.
While one of the most interesting so far, Harry moved on.
The sixth and final world was seemingly seeped in magic, and no humans existed there. Instead, it was a world filled with magical beings, the main population made up of horses (“Ponies,” Marwolaeth corrected in soft amusement), in all different colors and personalities. There were also various magical creatures, such as Griffons, Manticores, and others, though, again, ponies took up the largest number.
This world was fascinating to Harry. These ponies had built cities, towns, castles, had a government and laws, and yet, there was very rarely any war, and those wars were short and rather quaint compared to some of the things humans fought over. For the most part, however, this world seemed to care more for family and life and peace, than anything else.
It was very nearly perfect, in fact…
“This one,” Harry decided, pushing the other five back as he stared into the world. “I like this one.” It was the most interesting, the most fitting to his stipulations, and, honestly, the farthest thing from his own world as there was.
“Very well, Dearest,” Marwolaeth murmured, sounding surprisingly please. “Allow this one to gather this one’s sibling and cousin, Dearest.” Her presence pulled away, carefully, so as not to unbalance Harry’s awareness, which was swiftly anchored to the World Mirror. “This one shall return most quickly.” Harry barely had time to acknowledge her words, before she was gone completely, leaving him floundering momentarily, before he swiftly latched everything he was onto the World Mirror, lest he drift away into the Void and become lost until she returned. As he waited, Harry watched the world he’d chosen, hungrily observing the differences, traditions, and everything that made the world what it was.
Time passed strangely in the Void. Seconds were hours were months were millennia’s were milliseconds were days. Everything was warped, twisted; turned upside-down and inside-out. As he watched the World Mirror, centuries passed there, or days, or minutes, but all of it was interesting. When he leaned close enough, he could hear what was going on as well, and, as the strangeness of Void Time continued on, he longed to hear more, to know more of what was happening here in his new world.
When Marwolaeth returned, bringing not two, but four other massive Powers, Harry latched onto her familiar presence like a babe to it’s mother, unspeakably relieved she had returned before he could go mad in the Void, hanging onto the World Mirror by his will alone.
“This one did not purposefully leave thou in the Void unattended for so long, Dearest,” she murmured, coiling around him with affection. “This one’s sibling and cousin took time to locate, and this one’s uncle and niece deemed themselves allowed to aid thee in this endeavor.” Harry didn’t really mind all that much, as long as he wasn’t left floating in this bizarre emptiness and Void Time again.
“So, thou wishes to place thyself into the World of Equestria, hmm?” A smooth, gentle, woman’s voice asked him, filled with the sound of bird-song and the laughter of children.
“Yes,” Harry murmured in agreement, Awareness still curling into the cradling presence of Marwolaeth.
[b“This ‘tis a most interesting endeavor indeed, dear niece,”] a male voice said, the edge of slyness curling through the air, giving away the feeling of raindrops falling, explosions in the distance, riptides in a current, and the growing of a seven-leaf-clover in a field.
“Indeed,” another female voice agreed, the cheering of a crowd ringing in her voice, followed by the curses brought by a bad hand, the jingling of coins.
“Who…?” confusion colored his voice as he focused on Marwolaeth, searching for answers.
“Dearest, allow this one to introduce Dearest to this one’s relatives, hmm?” Harry felt the familiar presence pull back a ways, and another presence, this one warm like the sun and filled with too much of everything. Every breath, every inch of growth, every beat of every heart, they surrounded him, drowned him, made him hurt and thrive and flinch and ache.
"Rest Child, the voice gently commanded, pulling back a bit, cushioning him from her presence.“This one forgets, at times, that thou mortals cannot settle within this one’s Power. This one may be called Agapita, and this one holds the Power of Life, Sister of Marwolaeth, Power of Death.” Gently, she relinquished her hold, and Harry was immediately swept away in a rolling cloud of disorganization and confusion, hot and cold and warm and wet and dry at the same time, upside-down and twisting while straight and upright, his senses swiftly overwhelmed. The presence backed up just enough that Harry no longer felt as if he was about to break apart and join the mess of it, before it spoke.
“This one is most pleased to make the acquaintance of one such as thee, Little Mess! This one is the Power of Chaos, uncle of Marwolaeth and Agapita. This one goes by many, many names, but thou may refer to this one as Filbert, for this one finds it most appealing.” The strange Power curled close and sucked him in again in what could only be described as a hug, before tossing Harry’s presence into the cradle of one of the, as yet, unnamed presences, who caught him gently and gave the impression of cooing, which was the sound of a child’s laughter and the clicking of ping-pong balls in a cage, with the faintest undertone of cheering and clapping.
“This one is pleased to meet the mortal that has gained so much of this one’s favor in their life,” she told him kindly. “This one is Gilda, Power of Luck, and wishes thee a happy life with little woe, though ‘tis needed to make joy stronger.” Harry was then, finally handed to the final Power, who did not overwhelm him with sensations and sounds and images, but rather, with the feeling of being judged, weighed, and the knowledge that a decision had been made, which made Harry unspeakable nervous.
“…This one is Onésima, Power of Destiny, Controller of Fate,” she whispered, voice tired and soft with the weight of lives carrying on shoulders that slumped beneath the force but carried on besides. “This one is not sorry for the Fate given to thee, Young One, for this one does not regret what is, what was, or what is to come. This one can only watch and settle and choose as this one is supposed to.” With nothing more than that, the presence passed him back into the comfortingly numb presence of Marwolaeth, while the other Powers turned to the World Mirror and began to intermingle as they made decisions for this and that for him. Harry, exhausted, left them too it, and buried himself into the Awareness of Marwolaeth, who cradled him close and let him rest his overwhelmed Awareness in silence.
An unknown amount of time passed, before Marwolaeth gently jostled Harry into full attention, and settled him before the World Mirror so that all five Powers could see him.
“These ones have decided on the proper place to put thee,” Agapita announced calmly, and the Mirror flashed, splitting to show a group of eight different, smaller Mirrors, making Harry focus. “First, thou must choose thine parents. The Mares these ones have decided are on the top. The Stallions, the bottom. Chose whichever you feel the most connected to, child.” And then, they sat back and waited, as Harry focused on the top four Mirrors, the Mares who could be his new mother.
The first was a unicorn with a gray coat and green mane, eyes a bright purple. One her left flank was a picture of a needle and some thread. She was a seamstress, apparently, named Knittin’ Sue. She had two children already; twin foals, a colt and a filly, named Needle and Kindle. Both had a pale blue coat, but Needle had an orange mane, and Kindle had her mother’s green mane, only it was much curlier. Neither had a mark. Their father, one Thimble Quick, had died only a week before they had been born, an accident with a collapsed roof while helping some neighbors after a nasty storm that got away from their weather crew.
The next Mare was a dark gold colored Earth Pony, with a white mane and ice-blue eyes, who had a silver harp on her flank with a blue musical note. Her name was Melody Song, a musician, and she had no children and little interest in them, as far as Harry could tell, finding her music much more interesting.
The third Mare was a deep green Pegasus, with a dark red mane that had bright turquoise highlights and streaks. Her eyes were a warm cobalt blue, and on her flank was the image of a burnt orange bowl with gray steam rising out of it and a yellow spoon lying next to it. Her name was Mint Leaf, a cook who traveled around, working in Soup Kitchens in the bigger cities, and helping out in restaurants in smaller towns. She had no children, but wanted some eventually. She also had two older brothers, named Basil and Parsnip, who were big name chef’s in the city of Manehattan (and wasn’t that funny, Harry mused, that they had all these similar names to cities and towns from his world, changed and given horse-like names…).
The final Mare was another Earth Pony, this one a copper-color with a dark gold mane, and gentle freckles on her face. The mark on her side was a full red apple and a green apple core. Her name was Applesauce, and her family was huge. She worked in making her namesake, living on an orchard with her Great Aunt and cousins. She wanted children very badly, but didn’t want to settle with any of the Stallions she knew.
Harry considered all of these Mares, watched a bit of their lives, and considered each pro and con. After some deliberation, he pushed Knittin’ Sew and Melody Song away, their personalities making the decision for him. Carefully, he considered Applesauce and Mint Leaf. After some deliberation, he pushed Applesauce gently away, and nudged Mint Leaf towards the waiting Powers.
“Are you certain, child?” Agapita asked, not like she doubted his choice, but just for the sake of asking. Harry hummed his satisfaction with his choice, and watched the other three Mares Mirrors turn to wisps and fall away. When they were gone, he turned his eyes on the Stallion Mirrors.
The first Stallion was a Pegasus named Blade Breeze, a member of the Royal Guard. His coat was white, his mane a dark blue with silver-blue highlights, and his eyes a bright honey-colored brown. His flank was marked with the picture of a sword and dagger crossing. He was a stern but fair pony, and the older brother to a Earth Pony colt named Blue Dancer, who was more interested in music and dancing then his studies. Blue Dancer was as blue as his brother’s mane, with a yellow and orange streaked mane and bight purple eyes.
The second Stallion was a Zebra named Zendo, an Astrologist who read the stars much like a Centaur, able to see the paths one would come across. It wasn’t seeing the future, but seeing what choices would come up. His black-and-white mane was in a half-Mohawk, with the top half neat and straight, before shortening and softening down his neck. He had his left ear pierced by a single gold ring, but, other than that, did not follow the tradition of his people, wearing rings of gold on his legs and neck. He did, however, fashion his tail hair, into long, even dreads made of all black or all white hair, but not mixing the two. His eyes were a bright, warm green, and his flank-mark was a bunch of lines and marks, like the rest of his kind. It looked almost like a gyroscope, honestly.
The third Stallion was a Unicorn, with dark brown fur and a pale blue mane. His eyes were orange, and he wore a fancy looking vest. His flank was marked with the image of a trumpet with two red notes floating around it. His name was Marco Forte, a private music teacher for the elite. He liked children, but, much like Snape, had little patience with them when it came to teaching his craft. His parents were both famous musicians, and his younger sister was a famous singer, but Marco wasn’t much for the spotlight, preferring to make music that he enjoyed.
The final Stallion was a Earth Pony with a yellow coat and red mane, and dark blue eyes. His flank was marked with two orange horseshoes inter-locked, and he kept his red tail cropped short. His name was Sunny, and he was a very cheerful, mischievous Stallion, who liked kids mostly because he was like a grown-up one. He reminded Harry much like Sirius, without the grimness of Azkaban darkening his mind. Sunny had two younger sisters, both fully grown as well. A pale red Mare with soft yellow mane and gray eyes named Lissie, who had a purple flower on her rump and worked at a Foal Daycare, and a honey-colored Mare with red-and-brown-striped mane and dark green eyes named Tanny, who had a single red horseshoe on her flank, and who worked at the local Tea Shop as a waitress.
Harry took the four in, poking and observing and thinking heavily on his choices, before he pushed Sunny and Marco away, and, after a few more minutes, pushing Blade after them, nudging Zendo towards the Powers.
“An interesting choice, for sure, Little Mess,” Filbert announced, sounding a little smug. “And the Stallion this one chose, as well! Excellent.”
“Their paths are crossing, their lives entwining,” Onésima announced in her quiet, serious way. “Their lives will be long and fruitful, full of happiness and content. They are a good match.” Harry felt pleased and relieved at that, and watched in the Mirror as his soon-to-be parents met, when Zendo followed the stars to a road where Mint Leaf had stopped to fix a piece on her traveling wagon. The Zebra offered assistance in exchange for a meal, and the two worked side-by-side, and ate with each other, smiling and laughter and contentedness coiling between them as their personalities clicked. Time in the Mirror moved forward quickly, to their first date, their first dance, and first kiss. Meeting Mint Leaf’s family, then Zendo’s. A year passed, before Zendo asked Mint Leaf to marry him, on the anniversary of they day they met, on the very same spot they first met. It was all very romantic and such, the wedding filled with family and close friends but no one else. The two of them settled into a small cottage a little ways away from a place called Ponyville, and, while Mint Leaf started working at a restaurant there, Zendo continued to study the skies and write out star maps. There, the picture faded, and the Powers turned their attention to Harry, who turned his to them as well.
“What is done is done, child,” Agapita said sternly. “Thou art re-written, reborn. This world is now thine only world, though thou shalt keep thine memories of the world before, thou art no longer connected to it.”
"The ties of thine past are cut," Onésima murmured.“New ties bind thee, not as strong nor as choking. Flourish, for thine destiny is gentle compared to that of the past.” With that, the Power left, nothing more to say.
“This one is eager to see what thou shall do in this new world,” Gilda admitted, surrounding him briefly in a hug, before she, too, left. Filbert swamped him with power, the sound of cackling flooding his ears for a moment.
“This one dost hope that thine hunt of trouble dost continue, Little Mess,” he declared gleefully. “Live up to this one’s expectations, Little Mess. The worlds need more of this one in their existence!” And, with a last swirl of cackling, gleeful Chaos, the Power sped away into the Void after his niece and daughter.
“Is Dearest ready?” Marwolaeth asked curiously; Harry sighed as she curled affectionately around him, and pushed him towards the Mirror. With a silent hope that all would end up alright, he pressed his Awareness against the Mirror’s surface and, after a brief flicker of resistance, fell through.
Light blinded him, before pain exploded, and he came undone before he could even scream, the body he abruptly found himself once more in possession of, breaking apart and transforming into something else. Before he could see what, unconsciousness surrounded him, and he knew no more.
He became aware again in fits and spurts, muffled sounds and surrounded by warmth. A deeper voice, occasionally. The vague sensation of flying. Moving in small, jerky movements when he grew uncomfortable.
Slowly, he became aware that the higher, female’s voice was Mint Leaf’s, his mother, and the deeper voice was Zendo, his father. Other voices flittered in and out, but those two were the most prominent. He was a baby, not even born yet, but close, he realized, when this epiphany finally occurred to him. He couldn’t see much, mostly just dark reds and pinks, and an opaque sort of white occasionally.
Finally, though, something changed, and he found himself being pushed in the needed direction to get out. So, with that in mind, he pushed himself towards the exit, and soon entered his new world, crying out at the brightness and the cold and the sudden influx of sound and sight and smell. A strange pony decked out in a facemask, apron, and gloves, looked rather startled, before smiling at Harry warmly as said Doctor and another pony started cleaning him up.
“Congratulations!” The Doctor holding Harry announced warmly as he wrapped the immortal in a soft yellow blanket and handed him over to an exhausted but happy-looking Mint Leaf. “Your foal is a filly, and an Alicorn!” Harry didn’t really remember at the moment what, exactly, and Alicorn was, but he could be excused at the moment, because all he could think of was the “girl” bit.
What.
In the back of his mind, he could hear the faint cackling of Filbert, and knew the Chaos Power had done this on purpose. Biting back an irritated sigh, Harry blinked hi-her, blinked her, eyes up at the wide-eyed visage of the Pegasus that was his mother.
Mint Leaf was actually rather pretty, with her cobalt eyes and dual-colored mane, and her forest green coat. Beside her, Zendo peered down at Harry, green eyes bright and affectionate.
“Our little filly be very strong, she will,” he murmured in his strange, almost Jamaican accent. Mint Leaf sniffled and choked up a bit, smiling beatifically as she nuzzled Harry’s nose gently with her own.
“Clover Breeze,” she murmured affectionately, turning a sweet smile up to her Zebra husband. “Her name is Clover Breeze.” Zendo smiled and leaned down to nuzzle his black snout against Harry’s, now Clover’s, own.
“Our little Clovah,” he murmured, and kissed her forehead. “De stah’s be bright tonight for you, sweet one,” he whispered, and Clover found herself yawning heavily, and soon drifting to sleep, as Mint Leaf began to hum.
Five years passed, and Harry embraced his life as Clover fully, tossing his old life away as much as she could. It helped that she didn’t look much like she had thought she might. Her coat was a pale, soft green, broken up by black stripes that were similar to her “Papa’s”, though less in number. Her eyes took after his as well, only a brighter shade of green. Her mane and tail, she kept long like her “Mama’s”, the pure white mane broken by a few thin streaks of black, and fell straight on one side of her head, the slightly messy ends just reaching her knees. Her long tail was completely white but she tied it similarly to her Papa’s people, a thick black band at the base and end, the hair between braided tightly.
Life was actually very interesting at her new house. She took school lessons from her Papa while her Mama was at work, played for a few hours before her Mama got home, then learned cooking and how to use her small, developing wings. Once a week, she stayed up late with Zendo and he taught her the stars, which had different names and constellation then she remembered from her world.
All together, though, it was a happy life, if a bit lonely, as Clover found herself spending more time with her Papa at home than going into Ponyville, but nice all the same.
When Mint Leaf fell pregnant again, Clover was stunned, but then cautiously happy. She’d never considered she would have a sibling in this world, so used to most of the families she grew up with, bar the Weasley’s, having only one child for long years, if any more at all, so the idea she could have a little brother or sister was a foreign delight.
Months passed, and Clover made sure to pull her weight around the house as much as she could, cleaning and occasionally cooking when her Mama got particularly tired. Zendo helped her out as much as he could, but the Zebra wasn’t very good in the kitchen when it came to cooking or cleaning, so Clover found herself chasing after her bemused father and giving him directions on this or that, and cleaning up after him when he accidentally messed something up.
The morning her brother was born, Clover cleaned the house, top to bottom, filled with nervous energy while her mother’s brother, Basil, watched on in amusement. Her parents had left her at home as the hospital was no place for a foal, but that didn’t stop Clover from worrying or being impatient, so she cleaned.
And cleaned.
And maybe cooked enough to feed all of Ponyville, while her Uncle laughed his hooves off before helping her package and store the food, setting a bunch aside in gift baskets to send to some of her mothers friends.
When Zendo and Mint Leaf came come with Zendo’s mother, Zenna, and Mint Leaf’s father, Brawn Paisley, it was to an absolutely spotless house, a thoroughly amused Basil, and a tired but still excited Clover, who scrambled quickly to her parents side and stood on her back legs to try and get a look at her sibling. Her mother laughed her warm, tinkling laugh and moved to settle on their couch, Clover lunging after her to bounce on the cushion beside her, trying to peer passed her mother’s folded foreleg to see the little face partially hidden by an orange baby blanket.
“Clover,” her mother began. “Meet your little brother, Zeb.” With that, Mint Leaf shifted the bundle gently into Clovers hooves, making the bouncing filly freeze and carefully shift to hold the baby foal correctly, her look of concentrated serious unknowingly making all the adults smile or grin. Clover didn’t care, however, because her wide, bright green eyes were focused on the small, sleeping face in her hooves.
Zeb looked just like their father in every way, colored just like any other Zebra. His mane had the same sort of stripes their mother’s did, but were black and white, and already pinned back by a soft, black band, into an almost-topknot. Shifting the blanket carefully around with her mouth, Clover saw that he had no wings, and that his tail-hair was completely black, like hers was white. Carefully covering him back up, Clover placed her nose gently to his, eyes wide and staring, drinking in every detail. She watched as her brother slowly blinked his eyes open, eyes that were a darker shade of blue than their mothers, whether permanently or until the blue faded or darkened to another color, but still beautiful. He stared up at her in confusion, and Clover pressed her black muzzle to his in a gentle nuzzle.
“Hello, Zeb,” she whispered softly to him. “I’m your big sister, and I’m gonna take care of you and love you forever and ever, okay? Okay,” she murmured, meaning every word. And, even when he grew old and passed on, as he undoubtedly would, she would still continue to love him and care for him, her first sibling ever, no matter what. She carefully passed the newborn foal back to their mother, before a yawn overtook her. In a few minutes, she was dozing against her mother, until her grandfather came and picked her up, setting her on his back as the Pegasus chuckled and carried her to her room.
There, she slept, and dreamt of her old world and her new, and woke in the middle of the night with the knowledge that the new world was the here and now, and that she had well and truly abandoned her old world.
But, looking down into the face of her sleeping brother as she snuck into his room to peer into his crib, she wouldn’t have it any other way, and curled up in the chair beside his crib, to sleep the rest of the night away peacefully.
Author's Note
Marwolaeth AKA Death: Names is Welsh for “Death”, via Google Translate
Agapita AKA Life: Name is Greek for “she who is beloved and wanted” via my 100,000 Baby Names book
Filbert AKA Chaos: Name is English for “brilliant” from my baby name book
Gilda AKA Luck: Name is English for “covered with gold” from my name book
Onésima AKA Destiny/Fate: Name is Latin for “she who is burdened” from my book
Chapter One: New Friends, New Places
Chapter One:
New Friends, New Places
Clover carefully carried the bowl of soup through the air, her horn glowing a dark green with magic as she concentrated on the spell. After a few minutes, she carefully set the bowl down on the bedside table, and glanced at her feverish mother, getting a weak smile from Mint Leaf as Zendo gently mopped her brow with a damp cloth.
“You’re getting better at that spell, Clover,” her mother said hoarsely, coughing into her hoof.
“Practice makes perfect, Mama,” Clover said simply, smiling. “Now, you just rest and get better, okay? And, before you know it, you’ll get over this nasty cold in no time.” Mint Leaf smile, before a harsh cough had Clover taking a careful step back, and Zendo bracing her with a worried frown.
The sound of bells chiming rang through the house, signaling someone at the door.
“I’ll get it!” Clover said hurriedly, and trotted towards it, absently wondering if Equestria had anything like the potions of her old world. Passing Zeb, who was playing with a set of blocks on the hallway floor, the pale green Alicorn opened the front door, blinking up at the older Mare in front of her.
“Oh my,” the Mare said in surprise as she laid her turquoise eyes on Clover, who blinked back. The two spent a moment just taking the other in.
The Mare was a periwinkle blue Earth Pony, with dark orange hair curled up in a honeycomb ‘do. A picture of freshly baked bread was her “cutie mark”, the image on her left flank. She had a pretty yellow apron on, and a pearl necklace, with matching earrings.
“Oh my,” the Mare repeated, and looked a little abashed. “I do apologize, youngin’, but I was hoping that a Ms. Mint Leaf was home?” She had a southern belle sort of accent, and Clover blinked.
“That’s my Mama,” Clover informed the Mare cautiously. “She’s real sick today, with a nasty cold, and Papa’s making sure she get’s a lot of rest.”
“Oh my, oh my!” The Mare exclaimed, looking both concerned for Mint Leaf’s health, and rather alarmed. “Oh, I do hope she get’s better, youngin’, but I do wish she had gotten sick on some other week! With the Summer Sun Celebration being just two days away, and held here in Ponyville, I just can’t afford to be a pony short!” Clover watched as the older Mare worked herself into a tizzy, exclaiming “Oh my!” again and again.
“Clovah?” Zendo called, appearing in the doorway, and startling the Mare again. “Who be dis, den?”
“Papa, this is Mama’s employer,” Clover introduced quickly, hesitating. The Mare flushed a bit, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself.
“Oh my, I am terribly sorry, how rude of me,” she said, flustered, before smiling and offering her hoof to them. “I am Mrs. Juniper Rye, it is a pleasure.” Clover’s father smiled and shook the Mare’s hoof.
“Ah be Zendo, Mint Leaf’s ‘usband, an’ dis be Clovah Breeze, our oldest.” Zeb peered around his legs, blue eyes wide and curious, as Clover shook the Mare’s hoof. “Dis be Zeb, our youngest.” He nudged the little colt forward, and Zeb ducked his head shyly, waving a hoof once before burying his muzzle in Clover’s side, making her smile.
“Oh my, what a cute little colt,” Mrs. Rye cooed, before shaking her head and offering a smile. “Well, it is rather nice to meet you, though I am sorry that Ms. Leaf has taken ill, but now I must find some sort of replacement for her today! Oh my, oh my!” The Mare declared unhappily; Zendo blinked.
“You could be takin’ Clovah wit’ you, Mrs. Rye,” he informed the Mare and smiling at Clover’s wide-eyed look. “She be learnin’ all ‘er Mama’s tricks in de kitchen, since ah ‘ave two left hoofs in dat area.” He chuckled and nudged Clover forward, making her wings flare slightly in alarm. Zeb whimpered and clung tightly, and Clover bumped him carefully back towards their father, with a reassuring smile.
“Oh my,” Mrs. Rye said, and peered at Clover hopefully. “Can you make that delightful Sunflower Soup your Mama can, youngin’?” Clover nodded immediately.
“And a lot of the other ones, too, Mrs. Rye,” she replied honestly. “Though I’m not as good with the Pumpkin Pudding Soup or the Strawberry Twister Soup like Mama is, but I can do a lot of the other’s fairly well.” Mrs. Rye looked relieved and delighted.
“Well, this is just, oh my, just fantastic!” The Mare exclaimed, before turning her eyes on Zendo. “Are you sure that you’re alright, with me takin’ Ms. Breeze for a few hours, until Ms. Leaf is better?” Zendo nodded, smiling.
“It be good for ‘er, Mrs. Rye,” the Zebra announced, nodding again, before stepping forward to press a kiss to Clover’s forehead. “You go wit’ ‘er, Sweet One, an’ ‘ave some fun,” he told her; Clover flashed him a grin and bumped her nose with his.
“Yes, Papa,” she agreed, before running inside to say goodbye to her mother, while Zendo coaxed Zeb back inside. Clover made sure to tackle her little brother in a hug, making him giggle happily, before she turned to say another goodbye to her father.
“Take dees,” he told her, offering her two gold rings, the perfect size to slip onto her hooves. “Dey be yours, anyway. Dis way, you be getting’ dem early, is all.” He winked, and Clover happily slid the Zebra jewelry onto her right foreleg, the gleaming metal standing out prettily against her pale green coat.
“See you later, Papa,” she said, rising up on her back legs to wrap his neck in a hug and kiss his cheek. Quickly, she trotted out the door, giving one last wave behind her, before she fluttered her wings and flew easily beside the gently trotting Mrs. Rye, towards Ponyville for the first time. The entire way, Mrs. Rye blithely spoke of this and that, telling Clover all about her restaurant, where she served soups and sandwiches and desserts that go good with both, called Soup & Rye, after her late husband, Stew, and herself.
“We’re not as popular with the youngin’s as the Sugarcube Corner, but we get our fair share of customers from the older ponies.” Clover nodded along, and stared with interest as Ponyville finally came into view.
There were lots of quaint cottages and shops, with a large building rising from the center. Clover quickly landed next to Mrs. Rye, and unabashedly hide a bit behind the periwinkle Mare, self-conscious, for the first time, of her stripes, horn, and wings.
“Oh my,” Mrs. Rye murmured to herself, before sending the young filly, who was barely more than a foal, a kind smile. “Don’t you worry, youngin’. There isn’t a pony in town who would be mean to such a sweet thing like you, and, if they are, well, you just point me there way, you hear? And, oh my, oh my! I’ll set them straight!” The Mare tossed her head in determination and Clover giggled softly, hesitantly moving out from behind her temporary boss as they reached the large dark blue restaurant.
“Mares! And Stallion,” Mrs. Rye called, the last bit added with a nod to the only Stallion working, a young waiter with a dark gray coat, green mane, and orange eyes… and no cutie mark. “Poor Mint Leaf is on bed rest with a nasty cold,” Mrs. Rye informed the seven ponies, immediately garnering worried murmurs of concern. “However, her daughter, here, Clover Breeze, knows most of her recipes and has agreed to help with the Summer Sun Celebration rush.” Smiles and curious looks all around landed on Clover, so she stepped forward and offered a hesitant smile, her usually down turned ears sinking lower nervously.
“Ahm, I-I mean, I’m glad to be of help,” she said simply, barely managing to stop some of her father’s accent from changing her words, like it sometimes did when she was frustrated or nervous. Calls of greeting and thanks rang out, and Mrs. Rye quickly started introducing everyone.
“The Stallion is Smoky Mark, he’s our newest waiter,” she introduced; the Stallion bobbed his head in greeting with a sweet smile, which Clover returned. “Merry-Go-Round is our cashier for most days, the lavender Unicorn over there with the yellow mane, white tail, and green ribbon in her mane.” Said Unicorn glanced over, showing off one blue eye, one orange, and smiled happily, the trio of stars on her flank shiny and metallic in gold, silver, and copper.
“Hey there, filly!” she greeted happily; Clover smiled.
“Hello,” she greeted back.
“The Mare in the chef’s hat is my assistant, Silver Wheat, she helps me plate foods and make the sandwiches.” Said Mare had dark red fur and pale pink hair, and kind brown eyes. The picture of a spoon and fork crossing marked her flank. She merely nodded, and Clover nodded back.
“Those two yellow Mares are Dixy and Dot, twin sisters. Dixy has the green mane and blue eyes, and Dot has the purple mane and turquoise eyes. They’re snack-makers and assistants, they’ll be helping you move soup from the kitchen to the counter, where either a waiter or waitress will pick it up and take it to the customer.” The two Mares waved enthusiastically, eyes bright and eager. Dixy had a picture of a spoon with a purple ribbon tied on its handle, and Dot had a fork with a green ribbon on it.
“Nice to meet you, sugar cube!” they chirruped at her, beaming, and Clover smiled back.
“Likewise, Mares,” she replied warmly.
“The blue Mare in the green-and-yellow striped apron is our dish-washer, Sudsy. She likes her job, but that doesn’t mean she won’t need some help in the next few days, so feel free to lend her a hoof.”
“Aw, Mrs. Rye! Don’t worry about me!” The blue Mare announced, smiling sheepishly and rubbing her short, white mane self-consciously. Her cutie mark was a trio of soap bubbles, and Clover smiled at her.
“I like cleaning, so I’ll happily help out when I can,” she informed the Mare honestly, and Sudsy gave her a sweet smile.
“Well, in that case, help away!” She laughed; Mrs. Rye shook her head with a fond smile.
“And the last Mare is our senior waitress, Carrie Sweet,” Mrs. Rye finished, pointing at the pale orange Mare in the waiters outfit, her blue and purple mane held back in a bun, rectangular blue glasses perched on her muzzle while she smiled politely, gray eyes calm and serious. Her cutie mark was folded napkin and a pencil, which went well with the little notebook in her vest pocket for taking orders.
“Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss Breeze,” she said simply, calmly; Clover bobbed her head in reply, before Mrs. Rye clapped her hooves firmly.
“Oh my, we best be moving, youngin’s! Our brunch crowd will be here in fifteen minutes! Oh my, oh my, we’ve fallen behind schedule!” She despaired, and began shooing everypony to their workspace. “Miss Breeze, dear, can you start making the Sunflower Soup? It’s a customer favorite.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Clover replied, and began to move around the designated “Soup” area in the kitchen, summoning ingredients while she grabbed bowls and pans. Lost in the world of cooking, Clover worked hard and fast, absently floating bowl after bowl to the counter when Dixy and Dot got swamped as more ponies than usual, apparently, started showing up. Clover didn’t notice the curious customers trying to get a better glance at her, and instead focused on making more Sunflower Soup, Day Dream Stew, and Red Velvet Cream Cheese Surprise when Silver Wheat asked for some help in making the desserts.
Before she knew it, a smiling Merry-Go-Round was pulling her away for her lunch break, which consisted of a plate of sandwiches, and a bowl of her own Sunflower Soup. Flashing the ponies around her a smile, she dug into her food, finishing all the soup and half the sandwiches, before she went back to work.
The restaurant closed an hour before sundown, and Clover found herself with nothing to do, Sudsy having already finished the dishes, and Smoky having swept the floor.
“Come on, filly!” Merry-Go-Round said, appearing at her side with a grin. “I’m going to show you around town, since you’ve never been here before!” Clover hesitated, before nodding her head and trotting after the colorful Unicorn. As they walked, Merry-Go-Round babbled, pointing out buildings and sights and ponies, describing everything around them in happy detail. A blue blur flew by above them, turning out to be a blue Pegasus with rainbow hair and tail, who was laughing as she made clouds spin.
“That’s Rainbow Dash,” Merry-Go-Round announced, pointing after the laughing Pegasus. “She’s a riot, but way too competitive for my tastes, you know? Ponies just gotta sit back and relax sometimes, have fun without trying to beat everyone else around them. But that’s just me!” The lavender Unicorn grinned, and Clover smiled back, before the two of them found themselves walking towards a pink pony with Poofy, darker pink mane and tail, bright blue eyes, and three balloons on her flank, two of them blue, the last in yellow. The Earth Pony looked confused and curious, but was smiling, her eyes on Clover.
“Hey, Pinkie!” Merry-Go-Round greeted the pony. “This is Clover Breeze, she’s new-“ Apparently, it wasn’t the best thing to say, because the pink Earth Pony immediately squealed, and galloped off.
“Um…” Clover muttered, staring after the pony, and Merry-Go-Round laughed.
“Oh, don’t mind her, filly,” the Unicorn told her warmly. “Pinkie Pie is the Party Pony, she throws at least a party a week, and for any occasion she can find. She’s just going to set everything up to throw you a jamboree, probably at the town square.”
“A party?” Clover murmured, confused; Merry-Go-Round bobbed her head with a sweet smile.
“Pinkie throws the best parties,” the Unicorn assured her, before leading her off to see yet more buildings and ponies.
It was getting dark by the time the two of them made it back to the center of Ponyville, where dozens of paper lanterns were now hanging, and what looked like every pony in Ponyville was standing around smiling.
“Suh-PRISE!” A voice shouted, and Pinkie the Party Pony was suddenly muzzle-to-muzzle with Clover, making her yelp and fall back on her hindquarters in surprise. “Were you surprised?! I was totally surprised, especially when I saw you earlier. I mean, I know everypony in Ponyville so, when I found out you were new, I knew I just had to throw you a party because everypony needs a welcoming party! Are you excited?! I’m excited!” she babbled on, so fast Clover was surprised she could breathe and, in a way, she was reminded of Hermione when she found something particularly fascinating and just rambled on and on…
Kinda like Pinkie was still doing…
“-and that made me sad, ‘cause everypony should have friends, and now you’ve got a lot of them!” The Party Pony chirruped. “Here! Have a cupcake!” She then proceeded to shove a strange-smelling cupcake into Clover’s mouth, who choked but swallowed it quickly, letting out a harsh breath as her taste buds lit on fire.
“W-was that hot sauce?!” She gasped, scraping her tongue on her teeth in an attempt to get rid of the taste.
“Yep! It’s my favorite; it tastes really good! Doesn’t it?” She beamed, and Clover cleared her throat and genuinely thought about it.
“…Maybe if you put extra-sweet cream cheese frosting in the center,” she offered hesitantly. “So that the sweetness counteracts the spicy?” Pinkie stared at her for a second, still grinning, before she squealed and pounced on Clover, squeezing her in a tight hug.
“Oh, I just know we’re going to be the best of friends!” She squealed, and Clover hesitantly hugged her back, smiling faintly.
“I hope so, Pinkie.” With that, she was swept away, meeting dozens of ponies and remembering only a handful by both face and name. Some she remembered by color, or cutie mark, but all in all, she made several friends.
It was a fun night.
“Clovah?” Clover spun around, eyes wide, and found herself staring into her father’s amused eyes. The Zebra smiled warmly down at her, before looking around. “Ah can see dat you be having lots of fun, Sweet One.”
“Yes, Papa,” Clover replied, before glancing up at the sky, the Mare’s image stark against the high moon, showing just how late it had gotten. “Oh no! Papa, I’m sorry,” Clover turned wide eyes on the Zebra, nibbling her lip guiltily. “I just got swept up in the party, and-“ Zendo laughed, and pulled her close for a hug, kissing her temple next to her horn.
“It be fine, Sweet One,” he soothed with a gentle smile. “Ah did tell you to ‘ave fun, didn’t Ah?”
“Well, yes, but-!”
“Clovah,” Zendo interrupted gently, green eyes warm. “You be a young Mare, now! Almost full grown, but you be spending so much time at ‘ome, you be missing out on everyt’ing young Mare’s be doing! Making friends of your own, playing wit’ others, going outside! ‘Aving late night parties,” he added wryly with a laugh, before he sat on his haunches and cradled her face in his hooves. “You be spending so much time wit’ us, you don’t be doing tings dat make you ‘appy, dat be something you choose to do just because you can! Sweet One, Ah never want you to be sad or lonely, and don’t be dinking dat Ah ‘aven’t noticed dat you are,” he added with just a hint of scolding and a small frown. Clovers usually lowered ears, lowered even more as she peered up at her father, confused and still feeling a little guilty. Zendo’s face gentled once more, and he brushed her bangs back into the rest of her mane, still holding her face.
“It seems like just de odder day you was bein’ born, and now Ah look at you, and all Ah see is mah little foal all grown up and stuck inside all de time,” he told her softly, wistfully. “Ahm glad you be making friends, Clovah. Ahm glad you be ‘appy, and dat dees ponies be making you dat way. Dat’s all Ah could evah be wanting for you.” He kissed her temple again, and Clover threw her arms around his neck in a hug, burying her face in his neck.
“Papa,” she sniffled, and couldn’t even feel the least bit embarrassed by the choked, tightness of her voice. How she had always wished for someone to want her to be happy just for her sake, in her other world. And now, here it was happening, and she couldn’t help but be moved and thrilled and emotional over the whole thing.
“Now, don’t you be crying, Sweet One,” Zendo said firmly, pulling back and wiping her tears away with a gentle hoof as she sniffled. “Dis be your party! Ah just came to be checking up on you, make sure dat you ‘adn’t gotten lost before you got ‘ome. Now dat Ah be knowing your safe, Ah’ll be getting ‘ome myself. ‘Ave fun ‘ere, Clovah. Make friends, spend de night at somepony’s ‘ouse. Ah’ll be seeing you tomorrow, dough, undahstand?”
“Yes, Papa,” she replied, and the two hugged once more, before Zendo left, Clover waving after him and calling out last goodnights.
“Was that your Dad?” Rainbow Dash asked as the Pegasus hovered suddenly next to Clover, staring after Zendo curiously.
“Yeah, that was my Papa,” Clover replied, smiling. “He was just coming to check on me, and told me I could spend the night at somepony’s house tonight.” Rainbow Dash’s entire face lit up,
“Ya-HOO!” She sheered, and promptly loop-de-looped. “Did you here that everypony!? Clover can spend the night with somepony tonight!” There were immediately cheers, which frankly bemused Clover. She’d just met all these ponies, and yet, a majority of them were willing to have her spend the night? Wanted her to spend the night?
Clover spent the next hour having fun, and bemusedly listening to the other ponies extol the virtues of staying the night with them. It was strange, to have so many offering her a room, though the paranoia from her previous life was perking its head with all these offers. She was just relieved that there was no equivalent to Date Rape drugs or Love Potions that she’d found in Equestria, so she didn’t have to worry about that.
Pinkie Pie was once more chattering her ear off, when Clover noticed the pony. Said pony was a Pegasus, and was standing a bit away from all the others, hiding her face a bit in her long, pink mane, whispering to a small white rabbit. Her coat was a pale, golden yellow, and three butterflies made up her cutie mark, all with pink wings and cyan bodies. She looked rather lonely, and Clover felt an immediate spark of protectiveness rise up.
“Pinkie,” Clover said suddenly, as the Party Pony babbled on about a conversation she’d had a week before about blueberries.
“Uh-huh?!” The pony chirped, blue eyes wide and bright and eager. Clover smiled at her.
“I’m going to go talk to that pony over there, okay?” She asked, pointing at the shy pony. “But I don’t want to scare her, because she looks really shy. Can you go and challenge Rainbow Dash to a cupcake-eating contest or something, so no one interrupts us?” Pinkie blinked, glanced at the Mare Clover was talking about, and perked up.
“Okee-dokee-lokee!” she all but sang. “Have fun talking to Fluttershy, she’s kinda hard to hear at first but she’s so nice and friendly and sweet like a candy treat, but she’s shy and hey! That’s in her name! I wonder if that’s why she’s so shy and hey! That rhymed!” Giggling gleefully, Pinkie threw her forelegs around Clover’s neck in a hug, and then galloped off to tackle Rainbow Dash from where she was hovering and bantering with an orange pony with a blonde mane and cowboy hat. Clover shook her head with an amused smile, before she trotted over to the now-named Fluttershy.
“Hello,” she greeted warmly; the Pegasus squeaked and tried to hide behind her rabbit. “My name’s Clover Breeze,” she informed the pony. “I saw you sitting over here all by yourself and thought you could use some extra company.”
“Th-thank you,” the Pegasus whispered, almost too quiet to hear. “My names flu…tt...sh…” the last word was a messy mumble, and ended in a cute little squeak. I can see what Pinkie meant now, Clover thought, and sat in front of the Pegasus.
“Fluttershy, you said?” she asked, as if she didn’t know already; meekly, the Mare nodded. “That’s a pretty name,” Clover told her, smiling as she squeaked. “I got my name because all the ponies in my Mama’s family have herb names. My Mama is Mint Leaf, for example, and my uncles are Basil and Parsnip, aren’t those funny names? And, guess what!” Fluttershy peeked up and mumbled something that sounded like a garbled ‘what’, so Clover continued. “They’re all cooks!” She grinned. “So they get to cook themselves most days, isn’t that silly?” Fluttershy gave a little giggle, and sat up slowly. “And I cook too, though not as well, but my name’s Clover, so whenever I use, like, cloves of garlic, I can’t help but grin a little, because it’s so silly.” Fluttershy giggled again, and finally sat up, still hiding a bit behind her mane. Clover was very pleased with herself. Being a bit more talkative then usual was okay, as long as you didn’t over-do it, and shy ponies would slowly relax and open up a bit more sometimes. It just took patience. After all, it worked on Neville, and that boy had turned into one of his closest friends in their later years.
“I like your rabbit,” Clover informed the shy Mare.
“H-his name is Angel,” she told Clover in a sweet voice, smiling gently down at the rabbit, who sniffed and cuddled into Fluttershy’s leg. “U-um, Clover, um, I was wondering, if it’s not too terribly rude or too much of a bother, if you could, um, tell me w-what it’s like, um, being an Alicorn? If it’s not too personal, of course, sorry…” she trailed off in some soft mumbled, ducking her head down a bit more. Clover blinked, and tilted her head.
“Well, I dunno,” Clover said slowly, looking confused. “I was born this way, but I guess it’s just like, well, being a regular Unicorn and a regular Pegasus at the same time, I guess… I mean, I have to learn everything everyone else knows too, and start from the beginning like everyone else, so I don’t think it’s that much different. Is it?” She tilted her head, genuinely confused, and Fluttershy dragged a hoof through the dirt in tiny circles.
“Um, well, it’s just,” the Pegasus muttered. “The only Alicorns that anyone’s ever really see, are members of the Royal Family. Usually, a Unicorn or Pegasus have to be given the Alicorn attributes, because it’s a sort of title, and then they become a Princess or Prince, so I suppose everyone just assumed you were a Princess or something, from far away, or…I don’t know…som…th…ng…” she hid more fully in her mane while Clover blinked.
“Ah, that explains some things,” she finally acknowledged, nodding. “Well, I’m no Princess. I grew up right here, outside of Ponyville about half an hour’s run East,” she pointed in the direction of her family’s cottage, smiling at Fluttershy when she lifted her head a bit. “I’ve just never been here before, because I usually spend my time studying or foal-sitting my little brother, who’s just a foal yet. Thank’s for telling me, Flutter,” she said, giving the shy Mare a nickname without hesitation, smiling warmly at the shy smile Fluttershy gave her in return. “Friends?” She asked with a bit of hesitance, offering her hoof; Fluttershy blinked, and then smiled sweetly, and took her hoof in a gentle shake.
“Friends,” she agreed softly; Clover beamed, and then carefully pulled the Mare into a discussion on gardening and favorite colors. Another hour or so passed, and the partygoers started dispersing, giving one last welcome to Clover and bidding her goodnight before they left.
“It’s rather late,” Fluttershy murmured, yawning; immediately, Clover and Angel copied her, making the two Mares giggle.
“Yeah, and I still need to pick someone to spend the night with,” Clover replied with a sheepish smile; Fluttershy perked up a bit, then looked down and started drawing circles in the dirt with her hoof.
“Y-you could stay with me,” the shy pony told the Alicorn, who lit up with a warm smile.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like that, Flutter,” Clover told her honestly; Fluttershy smiled, and Clover asked her to come with her while she went to say goodbye to Pinkie and a few others, the shy Pegasus padding along behind her quietly.
“Pinkie!” Clover called; the still wide-awake pony whirled around and launched herself at Clover with a squeal.
“Hey, hi, Clover! Are you and Fluttershy friends now?” She asked, turning a bright, beaming grin on the softly smiling Pegasus.
“Yes we are, thanks for asking!” Clover replied happily, before covering a yawn with a hoof. “Actually, I was coming to say goodnight, because I’m staying at Fluttershy’s house tonight, and it’s kinda late. Also, I have work in the morning,” she added sheepishly. Then she threw her forelegs around the Party Pony and hugged her tight. “Thank you so, so much for the party, Pinkie. It was really fun and I had a blast.” Pinkie lit up, beaming happily as she hugged Clover back.
“Yay! I’m so happy you’re happy, ‘cause if you weren’t happy I’d be sad but you’re not so that’s great! Goodnight, Clover! Goodnight, Fluttershy! ‘Night, Angel!” She promptly hugged the three of them goodnight, before bounding away to tackle some poor pony in a hug and babble their half-asleep ears off. Clover chuckled and shook her head, her mane rising a bit before settling once more in it-s straight, knee-length glory as she led Fluttershy around, saying goodnight to people and thanking them for coming to greet her.
“’Night, filly!” Merry-Go-Round cooed when the Mare leapt from the crowd and hugged Clover tightly, lifting her right off the ground when the taller Mare stood on her back legs to give her a shake. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work, yes?”
“Yeah, you will,” Clover wheezed, laughing weakly as she was dropped back to the ground. Before she could say much else, something slammed into her side and sent her rolling with a yelp, pinned to the ground by Rainbow Dash’s dazed form. The cyan Pegasus quickly shook herself to rights, though, and smirked down at the Alicorn, who stared at her exasperatedly.
“Next time you’re free, we’ll have to race, Clover!” The competitive pony declared, flaring her wings with a grin. “I’m going to be trying out for the Wonderbolts, so I need all the practice I can get. Not that I’m not already pretty awesome, but hey, practice makes perfect, right?”
“Yes, it does,” Clover told her, amused, as the Pegasus leapt off her with a cheer, and then lunged away to hover next to a sleepily drooping pony and scaring him awake, laughing the whole time. Clover shook her head with a fond smile, and turned inquisitive eyes on Fluttershy, who was walking towards her and away from a pretty white Unicorn with a fancily curled indigo mane and tail.
“Ready to go, Flutter?” Clover asked; the Mare smiled and flickered her wings, lifting into the air gently, with Angel on her back.’
“This way,” she said softly; Clover flared her wings and leapt after her, rising into a gentle glide to fly alongside her new friend. “I hope you don’t mind my animal friends, I have a lot of them and they stay a lot at my house.”
“I don’t have a problem,” Clover reassured her warmly. “I like animals, so it’s fine!” They two of them flew gently away from Ponyville, until they reached a large, warm-looking cottage, surprisingly close to Everfree Forest. Fluttershy quickly unlocked the door and held it open with a sweet smile.
“I know it’s not much,” Fluttershy told her as she led Clover you to the second floor, past dozens of sleeping critters, to a surprising large room. “This is my room,” the Pegasus told her softly, looking slightly proud. “I have a spare bed in the closet, though it’s mostly used by my bear friend when he comes to visit.” She happily fluttered over to said closet and opened it, pulling out an immense, fuzzy pillow, as big as her own bed, if not bigger. “I know it’s not an actual bed, but it’s really soft and comfy, and…” she trailed off and nibbled her lips, so Clover trotted over and set a hoof on her shoulder.
“It’s awesome, Flutter,” she reassured the Pegasus, before grabbing a corner of the bed with her teeth and helping Fluttershy drag it further into the room, until it was next to the shy Mare’s own, with enough space between no-pony had to worry about stepping on anypony. After that, the two of them started getting ready for bed, with Clover borrowing a bit of mouthwash to clean her teeth, since she didn’t have her toothbrush.
Finally, they turned off the lights and climbed into the respective beds, with Clover pulling an extra blanket over herself while she did.
“Goodnight, Clover,” Fluttershy murmured softly, before yawning, snuggling into the already dozing Angel.
“Goodnight, Fluttershy,” Clover replied with a yawn of her own. It took only a few minutes before she was dozing, and slipping steadily into sleep. At the moment before she fell fully asleep, Fluttershy spoke up in a quiet whisper.
“I’m glad we’re friends.” Clover smiled and let her consciousness slip away, getting lost in dreamland, with one last, conscious, thought.
“Me too, Fluttershy. Me too.”
Author's Note
NOT a Fluttershy/Clover fic, just fyi. That's where the epic Bronymance comes in ^-^ Also, Jamaican Accents are difficult to write properly, which is what Zendo's accent is, btw. Comments and Criticism Welcome!!! ^-^
