The Stormclouds Beneath Your Hooves
Part 1: Strength
Even Scootaloo said I needed to take a coat. How could I turn her down? Course, no matter what they say about pegasus coats and wing freedom, the damn things get in the way when you're trying to clear the sky, so I dumped it on a treetop.
Now here I am, hanging out on a cloud. Chilling, like always. Below me the Everfree lies spattered with all the shades of gold and brown and red. And then chaos gives way to order, and the uniform orange lines of the Berryshine Vineyard begin. The occasional gusts of wind from the Everfree bring, besides shivers, the wet, earthy smells of decaying leaves and wood.
There's a bit of a twinge in my knee. Nothing I can't handle. My wings ache, but it's the good kind of ache. The sort that reminds you you're still alive, still active, still moving. I've never understood why ponies are so scared of pain. It's just part of life – suck it up, y'know? Besides, you'll never get anywhere as an athlete if you can't work through it.
I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't be active. There's no fun in relaxing if there's nothing to contrast it with.
Still, that's one of the better things about getting older – nopony gives you grief if you want to nap in the middle of the day.
And you know what? I think I've earned it. I've already cleared half the cloud cover already. Plenty of young ponies would wipe themselves out trying to clear that many in one go. “Ooh, I can take out a hundred little puffs of cumulus in a minute.” Yeah, yeah, kid. Whatever. Let Rainbow Dash show you how it's done.
That look on a pony's face when they've been going on about how weak you must be, and you show them up by clearing the sky faster than they ever could? Best thing ever. Especially when they've been going on about how you need to be in a care home. Yeah, right. Screw that.
I'm strong enough to do this job. Look! I've already done half of it, with hours to spare. And it's not an easy job, either. The Berryshine Vineyard starts where Fluttershy's cottage used to be and sits right up against the Everfree. It's as close as you can get before magic starts acting up. What that means is that clouds drift in from over the forest, and pegasi can only clear them once they're above the vineyard.
Dumb place for farming, but they didn't have a choice. There isn't much free land around Ponyville these days.
Anyway, it needs to be cleared of cloud cover pretty regularly. And that's why I'm here. The Ponyville weather team took a bit of convincing. They all know who I am, of course. The ones who have the tiniest bit of damned interest in flying, anyway. But even with all the evidence to the contrary, they think I'm weak.
I know, right?
They gave in when I showed them what I could still do. Okay, so maybe I'm not quite as agile as they are – but I'd like to see them be anywhere near as good when they're my age.
Scootaloo helped. Shouted down some of the more stubborn members. She's always been on my side, that kid. (Apart from the whole coat thing.) Heh … “Kid”. I still call her squirt too. She's bigger than I am now, and has been for a few years. But even now, with the wrinkles around her eyes and the tinge of grey in her mane, I can't help but think of her as that bouncy little filly who hid her nightmares from everypony because she was so intent on impressing me. Or the teenager who tried to dye her mane with rainbows when she fell out with her parents.
She steps in just after I've shown the weather team that I can still fly up to the cirrus layer. I can still feel the layer of sweat beneath hair and tousled mane. Hailstone, the leader of the team since a couple years back, still doesn't want to let me go, and I'm staring him down. Our noses are almost touching. Stubborn little whelp, I gotta admit.
“Why?” he says. “Why is it so important, Rainbow Dash?”
“Why do you wanna stop me?” I say. “Scared I'll show you up?”
That gets to him. I can see it in his face. He changes the subject: “It's cold out there! And yes, Rainbow Dash, you could really hurt yourself, and I don't want that on my conscience. I'm not going to be the pony who sent the Greatest Wonderbolt out to … to catch pneumonia or freeze to death or something, just because she thought she had something to prove.”
I mutter something I'm not proud of, and he puts his ears back.
“I wouldn't ask a member of my own team to do that alone, let alone some aging, decrepit has-been.”
I'm about to smack him when Scootaloo comes forward from the crowds, puts a hoof on his shoulder and drags him backwards. Hard – the brat stumbles and has to flare his wings to stop falling over
“What in Luna's name is wrong with you?” says Scootaloo.
And Hailstone cowers. Ha!
Before he can manage a response, she continues: “This is Rainbow Dash! If she wants to go on a mission – any mission – she gets to! She earned that right long before you were born.” She pins her ears. “And you want to hold her back because you're worried about your reputation? Besides, she knows her limits. ”
I nod. “Of course I do.”
Hailstone straightens, stares at us both. “Okay,” he says. “Maybe. I'll consider it.” He turns, glances back at Scootaloo, and flies off.
“Thanks, squirt,” I say.
Scootaloo smiles and hugs me. “I'm gonna follow him, make sure he doesn't change his mind back,” she says.
After she's left, I find I can't stop grinning.
And Hailstone didn't change his mind, of course. So here I am.
It happens more and more lately. Everypony seems to think I'm incapable of doing anything by myself. They think I'm weak. How stupid can you get?
I got a visit from Twilight a few weeks ago. Yeah, little miss perfect 'n' eternal. Just turned up at my door. No warning or anything. I can't really turn her away, no matter how much I might want to.
“It's been fricking forever,” I say when we're settled in. “What brings her majesty down to us mere mortals then?”
“I'm sorry,” says Twilight. She glances at the floor. “Things have just been so busy lately. You know, with the unification, and all the treaties that have to be signed. And … everything really.”
I shrug. “All that politics stuff is over my head, you know that. And boring too.”
“Yeah, I know,” she says. “I feel the same way sometimes. But there's little I can do. I'm in it for the long haul, I suppose.”
“You can say that again.” I snort.
Twilight smiles. A strained smile, obviously. “How are you, Rainbow?”
“Fine, fine. You?” Twilight looks at me intently without responding, so I continue in the most banal way I can. “Knee's still a bit sore. I think if I try and land on it, it'll explode and send bits everywhere.” I smirk. “Mentioned it to Pinkie. She said I should ask the doctor to put streamers and candy in there just in case.”
Twilight loses her composure, and she lets out a genuine laugh. “Oh … oh, goodness, that's terrible.”
“Yep.”
“She never used to be that morbid, did she?”
“Nah, but I totally saw it coming.”
We speak a little more. Just shallow small talk. I'm almost warming to her when Twilight finally gets to the point:
“I don't know if it's sensible for you to live alone any more, Dash.”
I glare at her. A moment of silence, then: “I'm not having this conversation.”
“Please, Dash. We're friends – all that time spent saving Equestria together, remember? Hear me out, at least.”
That was low. I slump back. “Okay. Whatever.”
“I know it's not easy to admit … but you're not as strong as you used to be.”
“Easy for you to say.” Seeing her expression … I regret saying that the moment I come out with it. She keeps going anyway.
“What if you hurt yourself again?”
“What if?”
“There'll be nopony around to help you!”
“So what's your solution, huh? I go to Ponyville Care Home? Join a bunch of wrinkled old mares wittering about the good old days? Spend my days going out of my mind, staring at faded wallpaper with cute pictures? Hey, here's an idea: Maybe I can get a roommate who pisses herself. We can go on little daytrips to old castles, and I can admire the scenery while some blank-eyed nurse cleans her up in the toilets!” I don't notice until I finish, but I've been gripping my chair so hard that the vapour between my hooves and cannons has darkened; I've got two little stormclouds beneath my forehooves.
“It's not like that!” Twilight insists. Yeah, sure. “Look, you're a national hero. And I … can pull some strings anyway. You don't have to go to Ponyville if you don't want to. There are some really high-end places in Canterlot. You'll have almost everything you want.”
“Except independence, yeah? Except excitement. Except dignity.” I snort. “Why me, anyway? You don't bother Applejack about care homes.”
“Applejack doesn't live alone. She has her family with her.”
“Fine. Whatever. Bad example. What about …” I search for somepony else. Pinkie has family too. Rarity has her husband. “Oh, never mind. I'm fine, Twilight. Just leave it.”
She keeps pushing. Of course she does.
Eventually I've had enough. I stand, glide over her head – just to show I still can – and open the door.
“I'm not leaving,” she insists.
I glare at her. “You're a princess, so I guess I can't force you. But if you have any respect for me – like, at all – you'll get out of my house. Please, Twilight. We're friends – all that time we spent saving Equestria together, remember? Come back when you're willing to talk to me like a friend and not some … some wretched old mare who can't even be trusted to live in her own home.”
And Twilight – finally – gives in. She slams the door as she leaves.
Maybe I was bit hard on her, yeah. Can't help it. I hate being patronised. I know what I'm doing. I'm not stupid. And I'm not weak.
I am getting a bit chilly, though. I think it's time to get back to work.
Even Scootaloo thought I needed a coat …
You know what? Screw 'em. I'm as good as I ever was. I'm gonna clear the rest of these clouds. And I'm gonna do it in one go. With a rainboom.
Just try and stop me. You ain't seen nothing yet, colts and fillies.
Part 2: Cracks
That was stupid.
Damnit.
I'm back on the cloud. Just about.
Damnit damnit damnit damnit damnit!
The knee feels like it's on fire every time I try and move that leg. Well, Dash, if you insist on crash landing on it …
The wing is numb. It's lying at a weird angle too – I'm pretty sure I heard a crack just before the tumble. I can't feel anything. Can't move it, either. Yeah, yeah, I know numbness is worse than pain, but I'm just glad that I only have one source of searing agony to worry about.
Real clever, Dash old girl. Show everypony how strong you are by breaking your wing!
Now what? I can't fly back. I could probably walk back, but the ground's a hundred metres below. I could try pushing the cloud with my good wing … Nah.
I'll have to wait it out. I can do that. Somepony will come along eventually.
I can imagine how that'll go: That little whelp Hailstone will go around telling everypony that he was right, that I shouldn't go alone, that I can't look after myself. Scootaloo will get an earful – just because she was on my side. Then there'll be the hospital stay for Celestia knows how long. Months, probably – if the wing heals at all, that is. I might be grounded permanently. And, of course, I'll get a visit from Twilight. That concerned face. Oh, Rainbow Dash, look what you've done now. You should've just listened to me from the start.
And the coat. Oh Celestia, the coat. I told Scootaloo I'd take it. What'll she think? Not only did I go and injure myself when she believed in me … but I also dumped the coat when I said I'd wear it.
I didn't want to. I didn't need it. I don't need it. But when Scootaloo and Cortland saw me off earlier ...
“Oh, leave me alone, for Celestia's sake,” I snap. “I'm not a foal! I can handle it!”
“I know, Dash. I know.” says Cortland. He has that slimy, wheedling tone you might use to coax a foal. The sort of tone that says I don't care what you say, you old fool.
“I said no! I don't need a damn coat.” I snort and look at Scootaloo for support.
And Scootaloo looks away. “I think he's right, Rainbow Dash,” she says eventually. “I know you're tough. Tougher than any pony I know. But you know how cold it gets up there.”
I glare at them both. But I can't bring myself to shout at Scootaloo, no matter how betrayed I feel, and I can't turn her down.
Huh. The knee's stopped hurting. I can't feel much of anything in it, actually.
Y'know what? I'll throw my hooves up in admission – I'm not as strong as I used to be. I know that. Of course I know that. How dumb do you think I am? I feel the extra effort it takes it do easy things, the aches and the bruises that come out of nowhere and take weeks to fade.
I'm getting weaker, but that doesn't mean I'm weak.
I'm getting weaker, and I hate it.
There's a reason Twilight chose to visit me specifically.
She's pacing, getting more and more agitated, and I'm sitting there, getting less and less interested in hearing her out.
“Look,” she says. “About the crash. I–”
“What crash?” I snap.
“You know what I mean. The accident.”
“What about it? I didn't crash. Just had a bit of a rough landing and hurt my knee. I've done that hundreds of times in the past. Never warranted a visit from a princess before. Especially not a visit from a princess who wants to get me into a fricking care home!”
“This is different,” says Twilight.
“How?”
She stops pacing and looks me in the eyes for what seems like forever. She speaks quietly. “Really, Dash?”
I look back and don't flinch. “Yes, Twilight. Really.”
She sighs. “A 'normal landing', remember? You said your wing seized up just before you touched down.”
“Yeah, that happens,” I say.
“And your knee still hasn't healed.”
I shrug. “I can handle a bit of pain.”
Twilight brings her hoof down, loud enough to make me jump. “For pony's sake! How long before it happens again? What if your wing goes when you're higher up? What if you break something next time? What if nopony's around to help you?” She looks down and steadies herself. “You injured yourself with a landing any filly who's been airborne for two months can handle. And it's only going to get worse.”
And that's when I decide I've had enough and show her to the door.
Oh Celestia, it's cold.
… Hold on, do I see a pony on the out there in the vineyards? Here! Over here, you fool. Come on!
Over here!
My throat is sore already
I don't think he can hear me.
What's gonna happen when … if … I do get rescued? Twilight's gonna insist I go into care. And what can I say in return? I've proven I really can't look after myself. Scootaloo was my last ally, and even she's beginning to doubt me.
That's what I've got to look forward to, isn't it? Twilight's “high-end” care home. Bet I'll still get an incontinent roommate though. Piss staining the high-end bedsheets. A high-end nurse to clean her up.
High-end lack of privacy. High-end, patronising staff who tell you not to fly. High-end imprisonment …
Wait – that pony. I think he's heading this way.
He's heading this way!
Part 3: Pride
Oh Celestia, that was a close call. Very close. But it's okay.
I think he's gone now.
Just a pony working on the vineyard, not one of the weather team. Communication between weatherponies and farmers ain't so great sometimes – I don't think he knows anypony is supposed to be clearing the sky right now.
Just in case, though, I stretched my good wing and gave the cloud a bit of a push. I'm drifting over the Everfree now, so I should have some more time even if the weather team comes looking right away.
Ugh. No, I couldn't go back in this state. I couldn't face up to Scootaloo – imagine what it would be like for her, seeing her idol in such a pathetic state. I couldn't face up to Twilight – with that knowing look she'd have.
I don't need anypony's pity. And I'm certainly not going to become some shrivelled up old hag, talking about how awesome I used to be. Screw that!
I'm just going to sit here a while, hang out till my wing's strong enough to carry me. Maybe have a nap too – I'm getting a little tired. All the work I've been doing, y'know?
Then, when I'm rested, I can fly back home. Oh – gotta finish clearing the sky too. Can't leave that half done, can I? What would they think if I waltzed back in there without having done the job? But then, I'll fly back. Hang out with Scootaloo. And I oughta make up with Twilight too. She's a busybody, I know, but she means well.
Just gotta sleep a while first.
I need to do this myself. I refuse to be helpless. It's a matter of pride.
I wish I still had my coat with me.
It's so cold.
Author's Note
This story owes a lot, in both style and content, to Talking Heads -- a wonderful (and frequently bleak) set of television monologues by Alan Bennett.
The standard needy writer requests apply: Tell me what you liked, what you didn't. Share it with people if you think it's worthy. &c. &c.
