Aphelion

by Petrichord

Rating: mature
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Sad, Romance, Slice of Life, Sex
Length: 37035

Somepony is stealing the letters out of Rainbow Dash's time capsule. But who - or why? And what does Rainbow Dash have to say about herself, anyway?

Like the rest of her friends, Rainbow Dash was willing to make a time capsule, full of mementos and a letter to her future self. Unlike the rest of her friends, she went back to add another letter - and found that somepony had stolen just her former letter, and nothing else. And every letter after that was stolen - hers, and nopony else's. With a bit of help, Rainbow Dash is able to deduce that her letter thief is a would-be special somepony with a secret crush and a temperament too timid to tell her directly. And so begins Rainbow Dash's quest to relate to her furtive admirer, her attempts to describe " The Real Rainbow Dash", and a steady spiral into introspection and self-consciousness.

Story is technically complete; i'm releasing it in parts because formatting is hard. Rated Mature for brief instances of strong language and sexual themes. Shipping implicit in the story. This story consists of two parts; The second part - Sol Solis - will likely not be released on FIMFiction.net, due to formatting guidelines. If you're interested in reading it, talk to me and we'll work something out.

* As of Season 5, this story may be obsolete; It was written in the interrim period after Season 4. It's probably too late to go back and change things around, so hopefully you'll accept the story as-is.

**If i turn out to be a not horrible writer, i might eventually plan on removing the "fan" elements and attempting to write this as a work of fiction. Therefore, comments/suggestions are always welcome, especially once all portions of Aphelion have been released.

Published 2015-03-15 19:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-19 17:24:26 UTC

Letters #1-7

Okay, I just want to point out first of all that this whole stupid idea is Twilight’s idea, okay? Not. Mine. ~~I mean, I don’t even want to be doing this~~

~~This is stupid~~

Okay, fine. Positive attitude about the whole thing. I’m doing this on my own free will, nopony’s making me, blah de blah blah. ~~I mean, in a technical sense I suppose you could say I even asked for it~~

~~This is really, really stupid~~

~~Okay. Cut to the chase. Right.~~

~~Okay.~~

~~Okay, I’ve been writing “Okay” down way too much and it’s really starting to annoy me. Can I just scrap everything and start over?~~

Ugh. Fine. And I guess everypony gets to read all the stuff I crossed out, too

WHATEVER FINE

So. Hello, future me. My name is Rainbow Dash – otherwise known as past you – and if you’re reading this, we both know that you’re still the best, most awesome, most radical, most amazing, and definitely the most cool pony in all of Equestria. No doubt you’re leading the Wonderbolts at this point and know all about that, but I just wanted to tell you that I’m excited to be you in however many years in the future you are. Unless I get excited and dig this up super early

~~I hope I don’t do that~~

~~Twilight, stop looking over my shoulder~~

You might have noticed that I stuck some of my super cool stuff in here, which is just a reminder of how much I managed to do before I even got to your age. I didn’t get to send you my flight leader badge because I still have to talk to spitfire about that, but I did send you some of the posters the little squirt drew of me for my fan club. Then there were the souvenir photos of the Wonderbolt tryouts, the photos of the elements of harmony starring me, and generally just pictures of me being super cool. Once I get to how old you are, they’re probably going to be worth ten million bits each, or something like that, so that’s cool.

I guess I’m supposed to give you a reminder about what my life’s like right now, ~~since that’s what Twilight wants~~ since you might have forgotten which totally would never happen. As you already know, I. am. AWESOME. I recently just moved into a castle that’s almost literally made of awesome, because I

~~so I’m only writing what I’m about to write because Twilight’s using magic to hit me over the head with a book until I “get it right”, as if that actually means anything~~

~~Twilight, stop trying to rewrite my time capsule~~

I am not

~~You are too~~

I just want you to stop saying that you’re the only pony that’s done anything important

Well, I’m not going to stop unless you stop messing around with my time capsule and stop hitting me with that book already

Thank you.

Okay, so we defeated Tirek and got super powerful and now we have a castle made almost literally of awesome and our own thrones and everything so I guess that actually sort of makes us like princesses. Except for Discord, who’s still kind of actually lame.

So I guess Twilight’s not going to make me cross out that last bit

But apparently that one? And this one? Whatever.

Point is, we’re awesome and we live in a castle. I finally feel like I’ve got enough space to store all my Daring-Do books without worrying that some cloud-clod accidentally crashes into my wall when there’s a storm going on, and – bam – books soaked and ruined. I’m thinking about moving some more of my stuff in here, too – I got my bed and my books and other water-unfriendly stuff already, but I’ve been a bit lazy about getting actually everything. But I’m allowed to take a bit of a break, right? I mean, we just saved the world – again – and I’m allowed to spend a week or two just kind of, y’know, enjoying it before I have to worry about working again.

Right?

…Okay, future me. You probably know better than I do about what to do with the fact that I maybe sort of feel guilty about this. I mean, we did a good job and everything is awesome and Equestria is safe once again, right? So…why do I feel like I’ve still kind of screwed up? Like, we stopped a bad thing from happening, but we didn’t stop all the bad things from happening. You probably know all about all the stuff I did in the future, right? So I wish you could tell me whether or not I should worry about this. If things do eventually stay better, that means I’m worrying for nothing – right? But if things don’t say better, then how do I do that?

I know that that whole time-travel thing doesn’t work – Twilight told me it doesn’t, flat-out, but – it’d be really helpful if you could just tell me the answer. Trying to talk with you through this whole time…capsule…thing feels kind of weird, anyway.

Anyways, I guess I’m just not sure what else I should say. You know about how I live, you know about the sort of stuff I like at this point in time, you should know about most of my friends.

Maybe I’ll come back some other day if I think of more stuff I want to tell you, and stick it down here with the rest of the junk you’ve got. You know – just so you don’t forget about a time when I wasn’t quite as awesome as you.

Okay, Twilight just said I could do that if I wanted to, so I guess I’ll stop over tomorrow and talk to you a bit more if I feel like it.

But I’m out of stuff to say for now, so I’m gonna head out and get some more flight practice in.

Your biggest fan,

-Rainbow Dash.

P.S. If the time travel stuff ever does work out, visit me sometime, okay? I want to see what all our medals look like, if nothing else.

P.P.S Don’t forget that even if Twilight’s pretty cool for an egghead, she’s *still* an egghead.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

Hey, awesome older me. It’s me, slightly less awesome and younger me again. I decided to stop back over and add a bit more to the other capsule, ‘cause there were some things that I wanted to tell you that I totally forgot about! (am I still forgetful when I’m older? Do I get more forgetful? Ugh. I know I’m going to grow older, but I hope I don’t grow old, like OLD-old, you know what I mean?)

But yeah – yesterday was a pretty awesome day. I mean, it was a bit chilly, kind of cloudy, but we’re supposed to have the longest stretch of nice weather in just a few days. Besides, we like it kind of cool, right? Makes flying that much easier – we don’t get tired as much, and I need that kind of energy to pull of the Buccaneer Blaze just right. (Though maybe you got better at it then I did. Probably did, actually, since if anypony could be more awesome than me – it’s you.)

I figured I would write about some of the other ponies I know – you know, just in case they’ve gotten some of their less-then-awesome ideas into your head, or just in case you forgot! I’ve got the clearest mind for this sort of thing. Not that I don’t trust you, but I know these guys at this point in time better than anyone else I know, even you, so that’s got to count for something, right?

So, Twilight Sparkle. She’s the one that started first with this whole idea about “let’s-make-time-capsules-so-we-don’t-ever-forget-that-we-were-best-friends” thing. Which is kind of cool, actually, I mean – even if she phrased it in a really kind of mushy gushy sort of way, it doesn’t necessarily mean that she was wrong about it. ‘cause here I am and here you are, right?

But that’s Twilight in a nutshell. Half of the time, she’s constantly lovey-dovey about us being friends and sticking together and having fun and blah de blah de blah, as if we didn’t already know all of that in the first place. Like I said – cute, yes, but definitely not cool. Maybe you’ve warmed up to that? Does it start getting more…whatever she wants over time?

Still, if you ever get to be as nerdy as she is – and that’s the other half of the time – go soak your head in a bucket of water. Seriously. You’ll thank me for it later. I refuse to believe, even if you’re giving it to me from the horse’s mouth, ~~no pun intended~~ pun totally intended because that was awesome, that I’ll be able to start getting interested about differential equation this and integer that and covalent bonding et cetera et cetera. And if you somehow do get interested – why, older me? Why? You’re cooler than that, trust me on it.

But back to the lovey-dovey stuff, you would not BELIEVE what Fluttershy is like these days. Or would you? It’s like every time I see her, she’s got some picnic basket full of cucumber sandwiches or a snorkel and a set of flippers and ~~SHE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE SWIMMING OR AT LEAST DIDN’T EVEN LIKE SWIMMING SHE’S A PEGASUS HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE~~

~~I don’t think any of us know what she sees in him~~

Okay, so does she get any better about the whole “extra-special-best-friend” thing with that creepy and totally not funny Draconequius? Like, ever? Or is she just going to get worse? ~~Please don’t tell me they get married I will actually beat my head against a wall until I pass out from brain damage~~

Buuuuut at any rate she’s totally happy about finding her part in the world and being able to still take care of animals and being in some…kind of relationship ~~there I said it are you happy whatever,~~ it’s none of my business. And I mean, I guess if anypony deserves to be happy that way, it should be her, because there was like no way I could ever imagine anypony less likely than her to actually get into a happy relationship.

Well, except for one, but we both know who she is.

Rarity, on the other hand, I could totally imagine having some colt slung over one shoulder, but still nothing. Gee, do you figure that “more glitz and glitter than a disco ball” is going out of style? ~~couldn’t happen fast enough~~ okay, that was mean, even by my standards. Still – she’s got at least one little purple devotee, so why she hasn’t gotten together with anypony is a little beyond me.

She’s having a field day with the whole princess-thing, though. Out of any of us, even Twilight, I think she’s really loved how things have turned out. About the only way she could play the princess more is by wearing some stilts for the legs, and getting herself a fake crown or something. The latter probably wouldn’t be too hard for her, anyway. Still, she gets to live in a castle and act pompous and be hailed by the entire upper crust, so – happy ending, I guess?

What does she do after this? Because if that’s the culmination of her life, then I can’t imagine how she must be taking having her life peak this early. I mean, I guess you could say the same thing about me, but I don’t doubt that I’ll think of something awesome to do – a dragon to beat up, or a town to save from rampaging changelings, or something. There’s a lot that you can do with radical flight skills, but glamour for the sake of glamour feels pretty monomaniacal.

Wait. “Culmination”? “Monomaniacal?” is Twilight rubbing off on me? Oh, man, it really is going to get worse, isn’t it. Just like before. Ugggggghhhhhh I hope she doesn’t rub it in my face

Different subject

Uh

Pinkie Pie is Pinkie Pie. I don’t think I need to say anything about that.

And Applejack…she’s always been the most consistent and reliable of us, but still just a little unreachable. I think there’s something at the edge of her tether that she’s not telling us about. Hey, do you know it? I guess I should ask “if”, but I’m pretty sure there’s *something* there. It’s always the most self-confident ones that have something beneath the surface.

oh look at me I’m a psychologist wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee

but that’s my friends. Short draft, anyway – there’s still Tank, and Spike, and Squirt, and I guess I could probably talk about spitfire and maybe soarin if I thought about it for a bit. But I don’t want to get bored and do a lame job of this when I could be out, like, trying to see how fast I could weave through all the buildings in ponyville without running into anything. I’m pretty sure I can beat last year’s record by a lot, and if I’m going to go about besting the best, that’s not a bad place to start.

Speaking of – I was kind of curious about the contents of their time capsules, so I went around and asked them. Twilight’s basically got a novel in there. Probably needs it, though, what with the whole alicorn thing. You think she’s going to live for thousands of years, like princess Celestia and princess Luna? I bet she becomes an even bigger pain in the neck as time goes on.

Pinkie crammed some cupcakes into hers along with “a list” that I’m not sure I want to know actually has on it. You figure that the cupcakes would go bad after a while, but I guess Pinkie is Pinkie, so if anything I bet they’ll have bred inside there and there’ll be hundreds of cupcakes when she opens it up in the future. It seems like the least possible thing to happen, which is why I’m guessing it – Pinkie is Pinkie, right?

Everypony else kept things pretty normal, though. Same as me: note, keepsakes, reminders, all that. I guess it’s kind of comforting to know that I’m not all that different from everypony else after all – I mean, I had to be prodded into this because obviously it isn’t super amazingly cool, but when things break down we’re all kind of the same. Like good friends, right?

Okay, future me, I’m going to go stretch my wings. Catch you later (obviously)

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////////

3

okay, Whoever did this. Not. Funny.

You know, when you’re supposed to plant a time capsule, the stuff in it’s supposed to stay in there until, you know, time passes. It’s not like I was going to take anything out of it after two days, so answer me this – why is it empty?

I mean, not empty. You left all the awesome photos and posters there in it, and I mean, what the hay? The only thing you’re going to take are my letters? That took a lot of time to write, and they aren’t even collectible or anything.

But what’s your problem? Do you hate me or something? Are you jealous? Because stealing the letters out of a time capsule is not. Cool.

I asked everypony else about it, and they have no clue. Applejack swears that everypony’s telling me the truth that they don’t know anything about it, but I guess I’m going entirely on her word here. But then again, what does she have to get from stealing my letters? It doesn’t make any sense.

I’m writing this from that place by the watering hole, by the way. Not from cloudsdale OR the castle. I hope you know that I’m going to watch over the capsule after I finish writing this, to catch you in the act.

Did I mention you’re awful? Like, really, really, bottom-of-the-barrel scum, and I hate you.

~~seriously, what’s the point~~

I obviously don’t know the point, and I bet you’re not going to explain it to me. I could write out how cruddy you are all over the page, but it’d get boring and you’re not worth my time.

Whoever you are – friend, enemy, stranger – give them back. I mean, not that you’re actually going to just because I tell you to, but there are a lot easier ways of getting my attention.

Sincerely,

-Rainbow Dash

P.S. there are easier ways of getting my attention, you know. You could have just *talked* to me.

P.P.S You’re still a jerk.

//////////////////////////////////////////

4

“I’m Sorry”? “Please keep writing”?

What the hay is that supposed to mean????? Writing this by the watering hole again, by the way. But am I going to have to expect something totally unexpected every time I check up on the stupid capsule?

I guess the whole “write-a-letter-of-your-own-and-slip-it-in-the-capsule” thing was kind of cool. I didn’t see it coming, if anything else. But you still didn’t return any of my letters, so you’re obviously not listening.

But I can’t tell if you’re sarcastic or not, and that’s the real problem. If you’re going to steal my stuff and not bother to apologize

~~You technically apologized I guess~~

But why is your hoofwriting so neat? You look like you’ve gone to some sort of fancy-hoofwriting-school, and I’m pretty sure that if you hadn’t practiced before that it would have had a bunch of scratches in the paper, or at least some ink blots, which is what it looks like every time I try to write in cursive.

But your writing looks like Twilight’s. I mean, it’s not Twilight’s, obviously, but you probably get what I mean. Because if you’re spying on me, you’re probably spying on most of the elements of harmony, right?

~~But you’re awfully polite for a villain~~

~~-uggh too many “but”s~~

~~hee hee hee “too many butts”~~

So either you’re a crazy polite villain or you’re some kind of stalker. Do you like me? I mean, and if you did, why couldn’t you tell me to my face? Are you shy?

Okay, so if it turns out you like me and you’re just too nervous to tell me to my face, then you know I’m probably cool with it, right?

~~unless you’re in love with me~~ if you’re in love with me, this is kind of a creepy way to show it.

Uggh I honestly don’t know what to think about all of this.

I could try and ask you for proof that you were doing this for good intention or not? But I guess if this is some kind of prank then you would probably try to fool me anyway. And honestly, since I have no clue who you are or not, there’s no way that I’d be able to meaningfully figure this out.

Whatever the truth is, you’re giving me a headache.

I don’t want to think about this right now. You’re going to take this letter too, right? Are you going to reply back?

Anyways.

-Rainbow Dash

/////////////////////////////////////////////

5

In case you were wondering why I started numbering these notes, it was originally so that I could have some kind of record that I didn’t write all the notes at once in case…okay, I guess it sounded better in my head. In case I had some kind of evidence against you that I could use in court? I mean, if we’re supposed to use “taking-things-to-court” now as a diplomatic response. Ugh, it’s a Twilight idea in all likelihood, but this whole thing is kind of her fault anyway.

But yeah. Fifth letter, I guess? I mean, obviously not all the same length, but I figure you’re probably not paging it out. Okay, maybe you are. How am I supposed to know one way or the other?

Seriously, I know you’re probably not going to, but I wish you’d just tell me who you are already.

No letter, I noticed. Maybe that last time was just that one exception? Or will I only be seeing them occasionally, but I’ll still be seeing them? wait and see, I guess. There’s probably some big word about waiting until the future so that I can talk about stuff that I’d like to tell my older self in the future, but I dunno. That’s not exactly my cutie mark.

So what do I say here?

I mean, I’ve got no real reason to keep writing, so I could just stop. Nopony’s forcing me to do it, and I don’t have much that I *need* to say – I mean, I didn’t need to write anything or do this time capsule at all in the first place.

But…okay, I guess part of me doesn’t want to stop? Because I guess there you are, and whoever you are and whatever you think about me, you’re reading what I have to say. And I don’t have to have anypony talk back, or worry about context, or anything like that. So if you’re not some kind of villain or otherwise completely lame pony, then it’s like I can have somepony to talk to. Or like a pen-pal? I never really had one of those, so.

And I mean, I can always kick your butt if I need to. Because if you start trying to make fun of me, I’ll eventually find out and trace it back to the source and – pow!

But on the off chance that you’re not, are you just waiting for me to say something? Should I keep writing? What exactly do you want me to say?

It’s weird. This is weird. I feel like I’m giving a speech to an audience of one. There’s the responsibility of being an element of harmony, there’s a responsibility of being a wonderbolts trainee wing leader, and then there’s this.

Why me?

I mean, it’s not like we didn’t all make time capsules. And Twilight swore that nopony else had their contents raided, so maybe you’re checking them out and then slipping it back – but it still doesn’t explain just taking mine?

uggggh this is so confusing

Look, I feel like I’m overthinking this, so I’m just going to go out and…do something, I don’t know. Not that I’m not having fun sitting out here, ~~writing to somepony on a piece of paper who’s not even talking back~~

You get my point. Not the one on the top of my head. That doesn’t exist, I’m a unicorn, don’t explain the joke, blah blah blah.

Whatever. Maybe I’ll talk to you later. No promises that I’ll remember, but.

-Rainbow Dash

P.S. in case you’re curious, things have been going pretty well over the past few days. Twilight asked for help demolishing what was left of the old library – I didn’t ask if she was eventually going to try to regrow something from there or if she just wanted to get the husk cleared away once and for all. AJ wanted to make it a “contest”, so she asked me and that one mailpony with the weird lopsided eyes to see who could destroy equal sections of the tree faster. I have no idea how she won, but whatever. I may be a loser, but she’s still got dumb eyes.

After that, I’ve just helped “clearing things away”. You figure that something that’s already basically destroyed wouldn’t need any more destruction, but I guess everything has to be down to a science. Or maybe it’s just Twilight being finicky. Or both? Point is, I’ve been aerating the husk and hauling away tree fragments, and taking picnic breaks at Pinkie’s request. LONG picnic breaks. She kind of goes overboard.

And besides that…just flying with Tank, you know? Trying to make sure his propeller is working right, maybe see if I can boost it up a little higher. I know that he wants to try and keep up with me as much as he can (I still have to take it pretty slow when he comes along with me), so I figure if nothing else I can get him accustomed to some banked turns and slipstreaming. Somepony’s got to look out for him on this flying sort of thing, you know?

Uh. In the future, don’t expect me to be this chatty. I’m not normally, y’know, the kind of pony that just likes to stand around and chew the fat all day. But I figure of you’re going to be so interested in listening to something, I might as well give you something to listen to. I dunno – I just kinda felt guilty about not really having anything to say ~~as if that makes any sense~~ so I just figured I’d tack on a bit about what I’ve been up after I said all the rest of that stuff. That’s what you want me to do, right? Just…say something? Anything?

//////////////////////////////////////

6

So I think I’ve been giving you a note every single day, right? So that makes it six days, six letters. Almost an entire week. Which feels…kind of obsessive? But I’m still here.

Stump removal’s finally done. Twilight came and watched me today while I taught tank how to do a proper barrel roll. He…did okay. It’s hard with a propeller, you know? And anyway, he certainly did better than Twilight did.

Her neck should get better soon.

She wasn’t even going that fast when she ran into Sugarcube corner, and it honestly can’t be more than just a little bit sore.

Hey, why are you still reading these? If anything, what exactly do you want me to say? Or do you still just want me to talk about anything? Everything?

You know what? Hold that thought. I’m going to show your note to Twilight, see what she thinks about this. I should have done that a long time ago, actually.

Back Later,

-Rainbow Dash

//////////////////////////////////

7

I have never seen anypony look so smug in her entire life.

Okay, so let’s take this calmly. I know you, even if I don’t know you. You are a secret admirer, though what type wasn’t implied, and you want me to keep writing because you’re genuinely interested in what I have to say. So there’s nothing really pernicious about any of this, and I can actually assume the best, relatively speaking.

Wait – more Twilight-speak? If you can get her to stop rubbing off on me I’d really appreciate it. And while you’re at it, tell her to rub that stupid smile off of her face. She’s got one up on me, and she *knows* it, and it’s just…ugggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh

if she starts bragging about it then I swear to Celestia that I’m going to punch her right in the face. And it’s not like It wouldn’t hurt. I mean, you probably know how I bucked a dragon in the face or beat up a bunch of changelings with my bare hooves, to name two things out of, like, a million awesome examples. Again – would be more boring to write them out than it feels like it’s worth, so do the research.

But talking to you is like talking in a mirror. So what would I tell my mirror?

Maybe just what goes on in the mind of the one and only Rainbow Dash? Like a sneak preview, or a behind-the-scenes special. But you gotta promise not to tell anypony else, okay?

And no secrets. Secret admirer or not, I don’t know you (even if, I guess, I technically do). And I’m not gonna say anything weird to a complete stranger.

So this was more than I was expecting to write. Moved this letter-writing back to cloudsdale; privacy is nice, and I’m not keen on the idea of snoops snooping in on my letters.

Speaking of Cloudsdale, though, this place gets emptier almost every day. ~~It’s almost kind of sad, actually. I mean, not that I’m not happy to move in with a bunch of my friends in a sweet castle. It’ll be like getting penthouse accommodations mixed with flight camp. But this home was, like…I don’t even have a word for it a home, duh. I lived here. I built it, designed it – it’s mine. It’s not like I’m going to be taking it down cloud by cloud, but the fact that it’s just sort of hanging there in empty space, unused and unlived in, feels a little bit lonely. It’s got some of me in it doesn’t it? So isn’t this like moving away from myself?~~

Uh…that was kind of odd. Ignore it and move on, okay?

Well, maybe I’ll see if the squirt wants to move in to my old house, though. I mean, when/if she starts flying properly. Or maybe if someone can get her fixed up with some magic wings or horseshoes or something. I could probably look into that. I mean, it’s not like we aren’t already celebrities; probably should be easy for some starstruck magician to magic up some cool loot for us, and it’d be a heck of a hearth warming’s present for her.

Okay, secret admirer, look: are my friends really rubbing off on me? Am I the real, genuine rainbow dash anymore? ‘Cause besides all the Twilight Sparkle speech, I felt like that was a bit of Rarity rubbing off on me. I mean, I’m not sure that’d you’ld really know off the bat, but – did you like it better when I felt more dash-y and less everypony-else-y? It’s the sort of thing that I warned my future self about. But out of all the bad feelings I have, making friends with Twilight and Rarity and Fluttershy and Applejack and Pinkie Pie isn’t one of them.

Y’know, even given that one’s an egghead, one’s a diva, one’s clinically shy, one likes to think she’s as awesome as me when she’s not, and one is Pinkie Pie.

So that’s a lot of weird feelings for me today. And I feel like I’ve had a lot more since you started getting my letters. Hey, are you ever going to return those, by the way? I figure that even after you grow bored and leave, future me might still want to read them. If nothing else, current me would probably make for a good laugh.

But anyway, I think I’ll write more for tomorrow. Writing’s slow without magic – surprise, surprise! – and that could cramp any pony’s mouth/hoof after a while. Plus, I don’t want to run out of things to say to you, creepy feelings and random bits of blugh-emotion aside.

Tomorrow. Same place as usual. By the way, don’t show these to anypony, even Twilight. ESPECIALLY Twilight.

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////

Author's Note

Formatting issues mean that i can't vary the font type between select passages; at least, not to my current level of (limited) knowledge. I indicated who's writing what by font color - a bit gimmicky, but it's the best i can manage for now. Apologies.

Letters #8-10

8

Huh. Okay, normally when I say things like “See you tomorrow”, what that really means is “week after this one, maybe.” Y’know – it’s reasonable. Things come up, other stuff gets on my schedule. Ponies forget, you know? It’s only equine.

So why am I actually here tomorrow? Like, tomorrow-tomorrow? Is it guilt? I mean, I kinda sorta thought about not doing this, but then I decided to actually go through with it – didn’t want to leave you hanging, right? Which would be the normal thing to do, except that you aren’t so much somepony else as you are just…the one that reads my letters. And I’m MORE attentive to this than I am normally?

Huh.

I sincerely hope you’re not trying to psychoanalyze this, because I’m pretty clueless, and if there is some deeper meeting than it’s lost on me.

Speaking of analysis, I figured I would play girl detective on this one. Ask a couple questions, do a little snooping, see if I could turn up some answers. Twilight was obviously the pony to try and gather some information on, ‘cause she for SURE knows something. Applejack, too.

But you know how boring trying to watch in on them is? Bo-RING. It’s like I go and talk to them about how I’m watching them, and they roll their eyes and walk away, and then they don’t even TRY to go off into some secret passageway to pour over their secret notes and have a good laugh at my expense. So no dice on that. Daring Do’s so lucky; stuff like that always crops up for and works out for her.

Logically speaking, though. Twilight has to know something about it. Twilight recognized the hoofwriting. I want to assume that Applejack knows something about it, too, but she could just be covering up for Twilight Sparkle because she’s too darned good at keeping secrets for her own good.

Rarity’s almost as annoyingly coy as Twilight is about the issue. She acts pretty coy in general, though, so I can’t tell whether she knows or if she’s just messing with me. Fluttershy would normally be the right pony to press about this, but given that Discord is Discord? No dice. I don’t want to even make him think that I’m trying to mess with her. Pinkie Pie would definitely have spilled the beans by now if she knew, because she’s terrible at keeping secrets – unless she PROMISED that she would keep it a secret, and if that’s the case then there’s no breaking a Pinkie Pie promise.

Then again, if she recognized it by the hoofwriting, it’s probably somepony she’s received letters from. Unfortunately, the only pony I know who she writes letters to is Princess Celestia, and it strikes me as a liiiiittle bit unlikely that you’re her, ~~Because she’s obviously got a crush on Twilight~~ because she’s thousands of years old and I doubt that sort of stuff interests her anymore. Besides, if you were her, what would I do? Ask her to her face? She’d probably laugh, or be mildly embarrassed.

Still, at least that’s a hypothesis. The best thing that I can do it to probably go through Twilight’s stuff – maybe she has some of her letters (or somepony else’s letters) lying around. At least it’s an idea.

Later,

-Rainbow Dash

/////////////////////////////////////////////

9

~~UGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH~~

Of course she locks up her room when she’s away on business. As in, magic-force-field-stuff. I can’t really begrudge her on that, because if I were a princess I wouldn’t want ponies looking through my stuff, either. But that’s not what I’m ticked off at.

So I figure I’ll catch her when she’s in her room, right? Make like I want to borrow a book from her new library selection, then start ransacking her place while her back is turned. It’s not like she could catch me, anyway. Rainbow Dash, remember?

So I get in there, and I see a line of ponies trying to collect books and get autographs, and that sort of thing. I have to wait my turn - OF COURSE, IT’S NOT LIKE I’M HER BEST FRIEND OR ANYTHING, THANK YOU TWILIGHT – and by the time I get there I see she’s got a box by her little library registry. I ask her what’s in it, right?

And she tells me that it’s a list of slips from all the ponies who have checked out books – she gets their name down along with the book they borrowed, and has spike burn the slip when they give it back. To “preserve confidentiality”, or something like that.

So not only does she know who EVERYPONY’S signature is – ergo, what their hoofwriting looks like – but she doesn’t keep around copies of what anything looks like, so I can’t even go through her stuff. And of COURSE she probably has the sort of bookworm’s brain that lets her memorize EVERYTHING.

Of course, I asked her when she started the stupid system, and then she asked me when was the last time I was in the library to actually borrow a book like a normal pony, and whether I was going to actually borrow a book, and whether I had returned her copy of Daring Do and the Heart of Darkness, and blah blah blah.

And now she’s probably going to expect me to write a book report about it or something. It’s not like I wasn’t going to read it today, anyway, but come on.

You’re so frustrating, you know that? You can’t just tell me who you are? You can’t even talk to me about it – not even privately? I promise I won’t judge you. Pinkie Promise.

Still waiting for your answer,

-Rainbow Dash.

//////////////////////////////////////////

10

Okay, first off, I wanted to apologize for last letter. I feel like I’m getting way too frustrated about the whole deal, seeing as the whole reason you’re just collecting my letters privately is because you’re too nervous to talk to me one on one. So what good would it do to scare you off?

Pretty much the exact opposite of what you wanted, I guess.

I still want to know who you are, but it can honestly wait. I’ve got a secret admirer – so what? That shouldn’t be uncommon for a pony like me. The best thing I can do is to take it in stride – accept it with good grace, treat you like an actual friend, talk to you and stuff. Right?

~~Well, Metaphorically talk to you, at any rate~~

But yeah. No more snooping, no more me being angry. I wouldn’t do that to Fluttershy, I won’t do it to you.

…Honestly, I think the reason I went a bit crazy there is because I was just still kind of worried about being…I dunno, “scammed” is the wrong word for it. Not trusting you because…~~I don’t want to be hurt by something I wouldn’t like to put my trust in?~~ No that’s not right either

Whatever, you get my point. Hopefully.

I’m kind of curious: do you feel the sort of nervousness that I do? Like, when I thought I was going to meet the Wonderbolts – I mean, especially Spitfire – don’t get me wrong, I was jump-up-and-down-giddy in the same way that a filly gets when they meet their hero of their dreams – or kind of like how the squirt looks at me, actually – but there’s still that sort of undercurrent, like “holy cow, what if they actually start talking to me?” Like, you feel like you’re not ready for it. Not just not wanting to disappoint them, I mean, but not being able to think that you could handle trying to not disappoint them?

And then the whole thing turns around into just this snarled mass of the kind of anxiety that isn’t so much scared as it is just feeling really, really weird. You know?

Or maybe I don’t. This is you, after all, not me.

You can probably already tell that I get nervous, too. I mean, maybe that’s something we have in common, if nothing else. But hey, if you’re brave enough to keep me writing to you like this, maybe you’re handling things better than I am?

Okay, this whole thing just kind of got surprisingly heavy, didn’t it? Did you want to have heavy conversations, or lighter ones? ~~Monologues, I mean~~

~~ugggh yet more Twilight-speak I really need to stop hanging around her~~

Actually, I’m not sure you’ll respond one way or another. Not after that one message, I mean. Just enough to get me to write, but not enough to reveal that much more about yourself, huh? So it really is just you being sort of shy. That’s okay. I understand.

ish. I mean, again, I’m not you, but.

I guess I’ll just write about whatever’s on my mind, then? Day by day. Maybe you just want to hear about my flying exercises or something, I don’t know.

Is that the sort of thing you like? Do you read sports stories? Am I kind of like a living sports story to you? The inspirational sort, I hope. Actually, what sort of stuff do you read? And should I read the same?

You know what – maybe I should actually go to the library. Twilight’s smug and annoying and too prone to using big words, but she probably knows if there will be other books that I might like. I mean, I love Daring Do stories, but I’m going to run out of them eventually, so might as well try something new? I mean, story of my life as of the past four years, but.

Hey, if you are in cahoots with her after all, recommend some things for me, okay? A second opinion might keep me from having to lug around some sort of thousand-page dictionary, and that’s probably the sort of thing she loves reading more than anything else.

Anyways, later.

-Rainbow Dash.

P.S. You should read Daring Do and the Heart of Darkness. It’s great.
P.P.S. Actually, every Daring Do book is great. You should read them.
P.P.P.S Seriously.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

Letters #11-13

11

Not bad, Tyke, Not baaaaaaaaaad. Those Tell-Your-Own-Tales game-booky things are actually pretty fun. I mean, not that I needed a lot of projection to imagine myself as something awesome, but still – kind of tense, right? I found myself flipping back through ‘em multiple times, trying to get different endings and all that.

Actually, that was part of the fun. You make a mistake – you can fix it. And you don’t know for sure whether or not you’re going to do the right thing until it’s all over, right? Just like real life, except I guess you can redo things after it’s all over.

Good thing, too, because DEAR LORD some of those bad endings are creepy. I’m not going to give Twilight the I-told-you-so satisfaction of letting her know that “House of Wax” had some seriously messed up endings, but nope, just in case you’re gossiping with her and I don’t know it, I’m not going to talk about it.

Come to think of it, things could have gotten really creepy if we had actually hadn’t stopped all those villains, if by “we” I mean “the elements of harmony”. So maybe I should be old hat at that, though? But then again, there was no way we were actually going to lose – elements of harmony, remember? So I guess what I’m paying for is helplessness. Albeit, the kind I can easily fix.

Actual vulnerability…yeah. We’re probably both familiar with that.

Speaking of being careful, just an FYI. The weather’s been super-nice recently because Cloudsdale’s working with the princesses to try and get a nice crop of Midnight Sun flowers blooming, and those are notoriously finicky. Applejack’s already working herself way harder than she should be in order to keep them healthy, so this was basically necessary. Of course, the ground’s going to be wicked dry after all of this nonstop sunlight, so we’re going to get a heck of a storm sometime in the near future, okay? Like, lock-yourself-in-the-house big. I’ll try and drop a warning when I think they’re going to bring the storm, but I’m not exactly working full-time at the weather factory (re: not working there at all), so I’m probably not going to be 100% accurate on the timing.

Or maybe you like the rain. I dunno. Never been a big fan of the stuff; it takes too much time to actually set up, it’s finicky, and you can’t even fly in it. Though, honestly, I’m not sure that anypony I know is a fan of the rain. Environment aside, why even have it there? Why not just…irrigate everything, or something? I guess that’s more work than just doing it naturally, but farming is more work than just gathering from the ‘wildlife”, and nopony wants to go into the Everfree forest, anyway, ~~except for Zecora who is crazy~~

Maybe it’s just tradition. And Celestia only knows how many traditions we’ve got up and running here, except maybe SHE doesn’t even know. It’s a chore keeping track of them all, so, y’know, I usually don’t. Nopony I know really makes a fuss about it, either, except Twilight ~~because she needs to get a life~~ and Applejack, because keeping track of all of those agricultural cues actually keeps her crops growing healthily.

I’m gonna admit I don’t put a whole lot of stock in structure when my idea of a good day is:

-> (sometime in the morning?) Wake up
-> eat if I feel hungry
-> flying
-> eat if I feel hungry
-> more flying
-> eat if I feel hungry
-> read books (if I’ve got something fun lying around)
-> (sometime in the evening?) fall asleep

except yesterday, which was kind of:

-> (sometime in the morning?) Woke up
-> ate (stuff; don’t remember)
-> flew a little bit, felt bored
-> ate (stuff; don’t remember)
-> finished Daring Do and the Heart of Darkness
-> stared at wall, wished I had something to do
-> ate (hay fries, extra crispy)
-> wrote to you
-> stared at wall, wish I had something to read
-> (sometime in the evening?) fell asleep

and today, which was kind of:

-> (sometime in the morning?) woke up
-> ate (cold hay fries, milk)
-> went to library
-> returned DDaHoD, asked Twilight what else I should read
-> got my ear talked off for what felt like an hour
-> walked out with almost more books than I could carry
-> read
-> ate after I realized it was now the evening (2 Daisy sandwiches, left over from a picnic I don’t remember how long ago, don’t think they were moldy)
-> remembered I hadn’t written to you yet

You’ll notice that my regular schedule doesn’t actually have any specific times, specific foods, specific books, specific anything. Also, showers are optional because, come on, nopony smells THAT gross if they do without for a few days. And you could always just go for a dip in the lake or roll around in some snow if you feel grimy enough, so what’s the point?

Still – I won’t say that I think that hygiene and prettying up in particular is always lame. I actually *liked* the outfits that Rarity made for me – both of them – and I’ve got to admit that she can capture awesomeness, radicalness and coolness in a dress. Not often, but definitely sometimes!

Until Rarity pulls out all the stops like she did that last time, though, I’m just gonna stick to the wonderbolts official outfit.

Okay, mouth is tired, hooves are almost as tired, I’ve got stuff to read. I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?

Latazzz

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////////////

12

I want to say that I’m done with the stack that I picked up, but not even close. I should have known that I’d eventually make the mistake of treating huge books like anything other than a door stopper, and I’ve tussled around with “When the Parasprites Cry” for long enough that my forelegs are beginning to get sore, and I’m STILL not done. How can somepony even write that much?

On a different topic: so I just realized that I forgot to explain why I called you “Tyke” yesterday. It’s like Squirt – you and Scootaloo both look up to me, you’re both pretty cool, they’re both terms of endearment, got it? Nothing particularly fancy or meaningful about it.

Are you a youngster, Tyke? I mean, I never actually asked how old you are. Hopefully not too much older. I mean, not that I’m not flattered, but if you’re Granny Smith’s age, then that might get kind of creepy, you know?

I wonder what I’ll be like at that age. I mean, assuming I live that long. But hey, I’m definitely invincible right now, right? ~~Except against Chrysalis or creepy vines or Tirek but~~ those were probably exceptions to the rule. Whatever, I’m still awesome.

Hey, do you have wings? Do you fly? Is that why you look up to me? Or is it because you’ve got Pegasus envy, especially of the awesomeness and radicalness…yeah, you get the gist.

Before you start thinking “Oh, look at all this bluster and bravado! I bet she has a dark secret, and I bet that secret is that she wishes she was a unicorn or something!” Ha ha ha, no. Having wings is the best possible thing in the world, and everypony who doesn’t have them or doesn’t use them is pretty much depriving themselves of the best things in life. No offense, but seriously: being able to go anywhere you want, anytime you want? Not having to worry about terrain conditions or traffic or anything like that? The world’s your oyster. And heck, if it’s not, you can always leave and nopony can stop you.

I used to think I’d see the world when I was a little filly, you know. I mean, after I became the best Wonderbolt in the whole world and won the fame of everypony everywhere and got statues dedicated to me and all of that. I wouldn’t just be a Pegasus icon in Equestria: I’d be famous in every country, to every species, ever. The best of the best.

Which admittedly I sort of am! Element of harmony, savior of the world, Wonderbolt trainee, plastered all over stained glass windows in Canterlot castle, HAVE a castle of my own. If I moved on right now, my work here would be done.

I couldn’t leave, though. Not without my friends. Well, I mean, I could, but…wouldn’t be the same. Maybe I should push them towards that, though? “Elements of Harmony: World Tour”? Has a nice ring to it.

But if I had to decide between the two…ugh. I really *do* want to see the world, but I really *couldn’t* leave them. I mean, I guess you’ld probably say the answer was pretty obvious, but there you go.

~~In light of the fact that I don’t even eat ethnic food this is probably pretty funny~~

yeah, not quite sure why I crossed that last bit out. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with hayburgers and milkshakes, right? I mean, come on, they’re delicious, everypony knows they’re delicious. I don’t need to have, like, wheat balls dipped in syrup or seaweed and rice wraps in order to actually experience “culinary perfection”, thank you very much. If you like it, more power to you, but I don’t see why I should go out of my way to try out weird stuff that I might not actually like.

Unless you like that stuff? Maybe you could recommend something to me? Like, assuming I’m a normal pony with normal taste.

Unless you’re still doing that not-writing-back thing. Which I guess is cool, too. Just kind of letting me say whatever I want? I mean, it’s kind of like a journal, I think, but with one person looking at it instead of zero. And I’m honestly not quite sure what to make of that.

Write to you tomorrow,

-Rainbow Dash

P.S. you’re not telling anypony about the contents of these letters, right? Just to be sure.

////////////////////////////////////////////

13

You know how I said something about Twilight being smug earlier? Yeah, that. I woke up early – weather was beautiful, same as always – took Tank for a bit of a spin, tried to help him get the whole barrel-roll thing, which to be fair he’s actually getting pretty good at.

Anyways, after I brought him back, I decided to stretch my wings for a bit, and just kind of gunned it all the way out to Canterlot castle and back. Then I did it again, and one last time for good measure, right? ‘cause it just feels good to open up from time to time. Flying lets me know that I’m feeling alive – that I’m doing what I do best, heck, that I’m doing what I do better than anypony else. Ergo, exercise lets me know that I’m the biggest flank-kicker alive. Besides, what else would I do? Stay cooped up in my room all day? Psssch. I’d probably start going crazy if I did that.

On that note, though. Not that I was tired when I got back, per se, but I did feel like I could scrub up a bit. So I go, peep into Rarity’s window to make sure that she’s not around (She wasn’t – think she was doing something with Sweetie Belle? Sister-wise, they’ve been pretty close to each other recently, and I don’t quite know why. I should probably ask her, really.)

Anyways yet again, she wasn’t. So I grabbed a couple of bottles out of her bathroom that I’m pretty sure were shampoo, got myself clean, toweled off, returned the bottles. I think Pinkie wanted to do something, AGAIN, ~~I have no idea where she gets the energy for all of this stuff~~ but I guess there’s no point in questioning it at this point, so I checked the clock and I figured I’d have an hour or so to myself. So I lugged out that copy of When the Parasprites Cry to the balcony and started reading it, right? It’s kind of bright out in the sun, but it definitely feels better than reading indoors.

Anyways, I’m sitting there, ~~reading the bit where~~ I don’t want to spoil anything if you haven’t read it for yourself yet, and then just this massive shade crawls over my field of vision. I look up, and there’s Twilight, hovering an umbrella over my head.

I ask her what she’s doing walking around when there’s not supposed to be rain in, like, forever. And then she says that it’s a parasol, and it’s supposed to keep shade out of your eyes, and the ONLY reason that detail matters to anyone at all is because she was trying to give it to me. Of course, I take it – it’s dumb that you have to invent products for bookworms that shouldn’t be reading that much, anyway, but I’m not going to argue that it was useful to me right then, right now.

So then she gets just the biggest, dumbest smile on her face, like she’s proud of me or something. So I ask what she’s smiling about, and she says “You’re really enjoying reading, aren’t you?”

Smug.

So I tell her it’s none of her business, and besides, it’s just a book. The she asks me how many books I checked out of her library, as if she didn’t already know.

Smug.

And you know what? I wouldn’t have been reading any of these books if you hadn’t mentioned them. You really ARE in cahoots with her, aren’t you? Is this whole thing just a gigantic exercise to get me to read?

…Naw. The smugness that was on her face was different the smugness she had…what? A week ago, I think? Don’t exactly remember. But I think this is something unrelated. And, honestly, I’m not even sure I care at this point – you want me to just talk at you, right? So that’s what I’m doing.

Still, I’m definitely suspecting you. You’re obviously working in cahoots with Twilight about the whole reading thing. I mean, just because I like it, doesn’t necessarily mean that this is what I WANT to have happening, right?

Meddling meddlesome friends. I’m going to finish the book, but I’m not doing it because it’s a good idea, okay? I’m not doing it to get educated, I’m not doing it to try something new, I’m doing it because I find it fun. Period. End of discussion.

Maybe I’ll give you credit for pointing me in the right direction, but Twilight’s still an Eggy Muffinhead.

Yoke’s on me, I guess,

-Rainbow Dash

Letters #14-15

14

How did you and Twilight get to know each other, anyway? When did you first start becoming friends? I mean, I’m going to assume that you are, because you’re in close enough correspondence that you confessed the details of her crush to you, or at least she knows you well enough that she could infer it from you. I was sort of under the impression that she had a really hard time making friends before she moved to Ponyville, if she had any in the first place.

Then again, she made all sorts of friends after she she moved here. At least, in her own, Twilight-ish sort of way. Got to know a lot of them, then started doing things heroic enough that everypony wanted to know her, and then she just fell into being friends with everypony. I think? She certainly seemed to have a knack for it that some of us didn’t. Fluttershy, for example. And me.

I almost want to say that it’s been a short time to form such a close bond with other ponies. But now that I think about it, hasn’t it been four years since we all first met each other?

I didn’t realize it, but we’re all getting older. Making and breaking friendships, advancing careers, developing new hobbies, growing upwards and outwards. Remaking ourselves, if you will, as entirely different ponies from who we used to be. I mean, take Rarity; she’s not just a known-name socialite in Canterlot, she’s also starting to become a nationally-known dressmaker, at least in that sort of community. And I guess technically speaking, I’ve gone from wage-slave and thunderbolts admire to a junior flight captain. Heck, I don’t doubt it if I’ll be a Wonderbolt proper in a year or two.

So why do I still feel like I’m the only one not growing up? Always the brash, obnoxious, shortsighted, vain one. If we’re supposed to be changing, I really don’t feel like I am. Who I was just stuck with me, and it’s going to keep sticking to me for the rest of my life.

I’ve always been crummy at defining irony, but I’m the best flyer out of any of us. If I’m the one that feels chained down by everything else, is that ironic?

I guess I’m just kind of lonely, really. Don’t get me wrong; I love my friends with all my heart, I love tank, and I love feeling awesome without feeling like I’m lying to myself about how good I am. But Everypony seems like they’ve got their own special someponies, these days. Fluttershy and Discord. Twilight with somepony – don’t know who, haven’t confirmed it, but the hunch is there. I’m all but positive Rarity knew about Spike’s crush years ago, and I think that as soon as he’s a bit older, they’re going to start dating properly. Just a little bit longer. Then Applejack had Trenderhoof, who at least seemed genuine about the whole thing, and Pinkie Pie…well, I dunno about her, but I know that everypony basically loves her, so it’s only a matter of time until she realizes it and starts thinking about having a family.

Maybe that’s why I’m talking to you, do you think? Because I’m kind of desperate to think there’s somepony watching me, waiting for me to wake up and finally grab at a chance I might never get again? Even if I probably don’t know you, haven’t seen you, don’t really know anything about what you like or what you’re like?

I want to say “I doubt it”, act flippant, and move on. Heck, I might still do that. But at least now, I feel like I’ve got just a little bit of clarity about the whole thing.

Thank you for making me feel wanted, needed. At least, in a different sort of way.

That being said…what is Twilight hoping to do with this? At least now, when I’m thinking about it, I doubt that the whole thing is a prank. She stinks at pranks, and this whole thing is way too mean-spirited to be much of her kind of humor anyway. And I don’t think she’s using it as an opportunity to snoop on me, either. I mean, I’m kind of an open book; ~~I don’t think I even bother to lock my door most of the time.~~

Don’t you dare go through my stuff, by the way. And don’t tell Twilight to do it, either. Or anypony else.

So she’s almost certainly got to be having good intentions about the whole thing. But good intentions to you? Or to me? Or to both of us?

It’s more thinking then I want to do right now.

The picnic was fine. We’re doing another one together, so I’ll try and write tomorrow’s letter tomorrow morning, and get it to you after lunch. For now, I want to get a bit more flight practice in, then I just want to read until I go to bed.

Well, maybe I’ll think about this quote-unquote “puzzle” a bit more in between all of that. ~~I don’t care that I’m being redundant, okay?~~

Write to you later,

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////////

15

So I did some more thinking about that whole “puzzle” thing. At least, about the three different possible things it could have been. Came to my own conclusions about it, but I’m not sure that they’re right.

First case: You pointed her at a way to get my attention as a favor to her. Honestly, I think this is probably the most likely one. The fact that I’m writing you back is doing a favor to you, and probably to get me to act more…Twilight-ish, I guess. Writing all the time, I mean.

But I guess the second one is also fairly obvious. I mean, it would be in Twilight’s interest to try and make other ponies happy, right? But that would require her knowing that this was the sort of things that I’ve wanted, which as far as I know I’ve never given any indication of, ever.

And then trying to pair us together would require both the first and the second to be true, so it’s definitely the least likely one of all, right? I mean, speaking obviously, and all that?

But then why do I feel like this is some kind of, I don’t know, shipping project? Which also just kind of isn’t her. But I don’t even want to think about motive and incentive outside her. I mean, she couldn’t be pressured into doing something like this, right?

She’s a freaking alicorn. Saved the world a bunch of times. Probably stronger than any pony alive, princesses included What on earth could be pressuring her to do this? What could she be scared of?

Am I getting suspicious again? How freaking suspicious should I be about this?

…Okay, funny story about all of that, really. I actually got around to returning a stack of books for Twilight, who was actually around this time. Of course, I mean, she wanted to talk about my impressions and all of that, so I pretended that I had to talk to Scootaloo about something and zipped out of there. Which is to say, I zipped right into Applejack’s face, who happened to be standing right outside of the doorway to Twilight’s room.

Just so I could have legitimized the excuse, I actually did head over to her little clubhouse after disentangling myself from AJ. Kind of cute place, except for the memorabilia of me, which was…kind of flattering, but kind of creepy. Like, I know I’m awesome, but how is it possible to find me *that* awesome?

But whatever. Today was actually probably the best day to visit them, since not only were they hanging around, but they were actually taking a break from doing the whole we’ve-gotta-find-our-cutie-marks thing that they normally do. Which isn’t to say that they were actually taking anything easy: they were practicing that cheer that they did for the Equestrian Games. Said that they wanted to do it even better then before – not that they were going to find their cutie marks that way, but they wanted to do something fun as a group with each other. Challenge each other, no stakes behind it, to be the best cheer team they could possibly be. And that was just kind of innocent, you know? Not caring about consequences or implications: just youthful imagination and endless energy.

I didn’t give tips. That would have ruined the point. But the girls tried so many different things, worked with so many different…thingies, whatever they’re called, I don’t know. But it felt awesome. I’m gonna have to stop over to check up on them on another day – who knows? It could be fun.

I think it was kind of late in the afternoon when I finally got back to the castle. I didn’t figure I had anything else on my plate for the day, right? So I was just going to grab a bite to eat, read a bit, and get ready for tomorrow. And of course, I go into my room, and there’s a letter on my pillow.

I panicked, at first. Thought it was from you, but the hoofwriting was pretty distinctly not. It was Applejack. She wants to see me, believe it or not.

What the hay is that supposed to be about? I think it was meant for me today, but it’s pretty late at night, so I’m just going to flat-out ignore that. I’ll see what she wants tomorrow. Tonight it’s just me, my book and this letter. Which I am going to drop off right…about…now.

Catch you on the flipside!

-Rainbow Dash

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Letters #16-19

16

Suffice to say I feel a little crummy.

I got hammered two days ago. Tried to drink too much coffee to compensate for the hangover. It worked – but I spent most of the rest of yesterday zipping around like a hummingbird ~~on too much coffee~~ I know that’s redundant, but I can’t think of a better ~~comparison word~~ ~~something that means “comparison word” but sounds less dumb~~ ~~I hope you know what I’m talking about~~ WHATEVER UGGGHHHHH

So then last night, I still had the headache, but I was completely exhausted and crashed on my bed.

I woke up, and I’ve still got the hangover. It’s a lot better than it was, but it’s still kind of a headache, which is a slightly lighter shade of crummy. Mostly I kind of feel embarrassed about yesterday. I mean, honestly – I don’t really get hung over, so how much was I DRINKING?

I have a good ~~excuse~~ reason: Applejack’s home-made Cider. ~~You’ve got to try it~~ Once you finally meet me, and if you like that thing, you should give it a try ~~but don’t drink so much that I don’t get any.~~

I told you she wanted to talk to me, right? So that was a couple of days ago, right? Anyways, I hoof it over to her room, knock, go in.

Random detail: her room’s even more sparse than mine. Actually, it hardly has anything in it at all, besides a bed, a couple of chairs, a night stand with a couple of photos on it, and a keg. And I’m pretty sure the keg isn’t normally there. I asked her about it, and she admitted that she felt a lot more comfortable sleeping back at the orchard with the rest of her family. I guess she didn’t feel obligated to move over here. Come to think of it, I guess none of us were strictly ordered to – I probably could have just stayed up in cloudsdale if I wanted. Not that it’s going to stop me from moving my things, since I suppose I probably shouldn’t stop now that I’ve already gotten started ~~which, by the way, is a terrible philosophy and I don’t think you should do it unless you’re me,~~ since I suppose that’s part of who I am.

So she shuts the door, kind of calmly, and then she wants to ask me about how I’m doing. The letter-writing thing, she explains. It seems like I’m really getting into it, and actually settling down and enjoying myself with something entirely new, which is wonderful, and she’s happy that I’m doing it. Honestly, it’s not the sort of thing I was expecting out of her at all – I wasn’t even sure she liked that sort of stuff, and I told her that. So then she told me that she thinks it’s a good idea to keep in touch with others – bonding like normal ponies, bringing them together even if they’re far away. Which I guess is kind of like her, since she’s really got a focus on family and community and all of that sort of stuff. So I tell her thanks, I guess?

“I think it’s starting to change you, too, Sugarcube.” She says.

Which, of course, TOTALLY caught me off guard.

“Thing is”, she said, “I know what you’re like when reading, or when you’re with Tank. Different from flying, right?” Which was completely nonsensical at the time, so I asked her to clarify.

“See, Sugarcube”, she starts, “There’s you when you’ve immersed yourself in something, and then there’s you when something’s hooked you in. It’s less a voluntary thing, trying’ to be happy, and more of happiness just plain suckin’ you right in.”

“Are you nuts?” I ask her. “Are you trying to tell me – Rainbow Dash – that flying isn’t the most awesome thing ever, and that I don’t think of it as the most awesome thing ever?”

“Naw,” she says with this little smile. “just a different kind of happy.”

I blew that remark off at the time, but looking back on it, I’m not entirely sure she was wrong. I mean, don’t get me wrong – flying is TOTALLY the best thing ever – but I guess tank makes me happy in a more mushy-gushy sort of way that flying’s awesomeness, coolness and radicalness does. Or reading’s immersing-gotta-flip-the-next-page-if-it’s-good way. So is that sorta the same way with you? But what would I even call that? “doing-something-day-after-day-even-though-i-don’t-have-a-good-reason-why-I’m-even-doing-it-at-all” happy? ~~Whatever.~~

She then went on to say that I guess I was supposedly a bit quieter than usual. Wondered if that was because I was being more thoughtful. Thought that having this sort of pen-pal was good for me. Yadda yadda yadda, same sort of things Twilight’s been saying about me, whatever. I guess some ponies just have to have a quote-unquote motherly instinct about wanting to protect others? And, really, this isn’t anything new to say about me, I guess.

Except that it makes the whole Twilight’s-in-cahoots thing a bit different. It’s not that she’s trying to change me, but I guess I’m being changed, and Twilight was just supposed to be an observer?

This whole thing is feeling ridiculous. I mean, what, I start reading a bit and writing a bit and suddenly I’m magically somepony else? Gee, whiz, you want to declare today a national holiday and start throwing a ticker-tape parade while we’re all gratuitously overreacting about nothing?

I guess the truth is that I don’t know what I’m supposed to think anymore. What exactly is it supposed to mean when I indulge somepony who has a crush on me by writing to her? I’ve always been pretty bad at getting implications or understanding nuances or anything like that. That’s more Rarity’s thing.

Am I supposed to be falling for you? Is that what’s supposed to be happening? I dunno – just because you spend a little over two weeks writing at somepony, it doesn’t make them a special somepony. Right?

Doesn’t feel like it to me, anyway.

But I took it for what it was then, and I’ll take it for what it is now. I think Applejack mostly just meant for things to be friendly, and to do that thing where I guess I’m supposed to come to her if I want to talk about anything. News flash: She makes this offer to everypony. News Flash Two: I’m not exactly a sniveling bag of angst, thank you very much.

Criminy, my writing hoof hurts.

Long story short, she brought out some of her reserve stock of cider after that. Said she saved it for me after the last few years, when I’ve gotten utterly and completely screwed out of any of that stuff. I drunk way, way, way too much, and here I am now.

And “now” is going to mean seeing if Rarity can get me some kind of salve for my hoof after dropping off this letter. I’m really not supposed to be writing this much, you know? This is actually not really supposed to be my thing. So, yeah, if I’m a bit more terse in the future – sorry about that.

Ouch forever,

-Rainbow Dash

//////////////////////////////////////////

17

RAINBOW DASH

So this isn’t my colored ink. I actually borrowed it off of the squirt, who was using it with the rest of her Cutie Mark Crusader buddies for cutie mark…kaligrafers? I’m not sure how to spell that. Why’d I swing by? Figured that so long as I was talking to everypony else about nothing in particular, I might as well see how her little group of friends was doing. (spoiler alert: no cutie marks yet. I lost track of how many things they had tried a long time ago.)

(okay, look, the rest of my spelling is because Twilight insists on talking like that all the time. But I’ve never heard her talking about Kaligrafy before, so I’m at a loss. Should have asked Twilight about it. Actually, let me go do that really quickly.)

Calligraphy. Wow, that’s totally not intuitive at all. Uh, I’m just going to leave the stuff I had up there before, if that’s okay with you. Also, apparently it doesn’t involve using colored ink, but she’s not the boss of me and I want to do it anyway.

I actually really used to like painting when I was a filly. I mean, I ~~didn’t~~ don’t know anything about style or technique or schools or blah blah blah whatever yet again, but colors are cool. I mean, you can probably tell by the mane, right? It’s awesome because it’s colorful, which is awesome. And I guess the only pony that I’d be able to talk to about that is Twilight (ugh), and she’s only got two colors and they’re pretty similar.

I don’t have the pink, though, ~~and that’s kind of pretty~~

Still, the point is – before I could really get the hang of flying (which really wasn’t long at all, but it’s not like everypony can fly right out of birth, except apparently one of the cake children? Can’t remember which, but I’ll keep an eye on that one), I used to love mucking around with hoofpainting. It was bright, it was colorful, it was me. Apparently, I used to mix all the colors together and stick the paper on my face and walk around pretending I was made of rainbows. Weird, right? Fillies will be fillies, I guess. Not that I remember it, but it doesn’t sound entirely dissimilar from what I’d do.

Red is a pretty awesome color, all things considered. Probably my third favorite, maybe second. It kicks a lot of butt and looks really bright and energetic and awesome. Also, it’s the color of blood, which is kind of hardcore, right?

Orange I don’t like nearly as much, but I guess it reminds me of applejack and pumpkins. Which reminds me of nightmare night, and getting your pranks on then is FUN. Except when I got spooked back by princess Luna (note: not cool. I don’t care if she’s a princess or not). Still, black is just kind of…black, so for nightmare night Orange is definitely better.

Yellow is the wonderbolts’ lightning bolts, and lightning in general, which is again kind of hardcore. Also, it’s the sun, which makes things warm and the perfect time to nap. (for the record, napping gives you more energy to fly totally radically amazingly cool, so even awesome ponies do it). Second favorite color, maybe third. Also I guess the color of fluttershy, but I more associate her with

Green, which is the color of nature and stuff I guess? And since she likes living on the ground more than she does in the air and I can’t really blame her for that, it fits her better. I don’t know, I don’t really spend a lot of time at ground level if I don’t have to. But colors are colors, right? So there’s that.

Indigo kind of looks like black, so it’s definitely the least cool of the colors of the rainbow. Still, it’s a color in the rainbow, and that makes it one of the most awesome colors. DEFINITELY only the seventh-most-awesome, though.

Purple’s probably sixth, then; it’s girly. I mean, undeniably so, let’s be honest. But at least it’s the color of Rarity’s mane and Twilight Sparkle’s…everything? So, that’s good. And like I mentioned, colors of the rainbow are all pretty cool. So basically, if I sound like I’m being hard on them, I’m not. Especially

Blue. Ta-dah! It’s the best color ever made! Color of the sky, which is flying, which is awesome. Also the color of me, like, my body and everything in addition to the mane. So I know it came between Green and Indigo, but you’ve got to save the best for last, right? Except for presents, where you basically get the best stuff first before someone else opens it for you. I’d call that a metaphor, but present ambushing was a pretty big tradition in flight camp, which tended to make Hearth Warming’s day pretty fun and kinda violent.

Kinda weird to think about this again! I haven’t thought about colors in a while. I mean, even with art and stuff like that, I tend to leave it up to Rarity, ‘cause that’s, like, half of her life right there. Also it means less for me to have to worry about, which means more flying, which is – guess what? – awesome.

Not that it wasn’t fun, though. What about you? I figure you’re probably like green, by which I mean like Fluttershy, by which I mean kind of shy and stuff, but I don’t think I’ll be able to find out one way or another.

I should probably return the colored ink. I’ll ask the squirt where I can find more, and buy a set for myself. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not going to make my letters look like an arts and crafts project, but I kind of had fun doing this, so maybe I’ll do it again in the future. Who knows?

Your pal,

RAINBOW DASH

P.S. I ran into Twilight on the way back from dropping off the ink. She told me it also involves writing fancy and that colors don’t actually have anything to do with it, but that sounds less fun and I’m not gonna do it. I also said that she should try writing with colored ink sometime, and I think she took me seriously. Did I just start a trend in our group? That would be pretty cool.

P.P.S Okay, so I was curious. I tried smearing paint on a piece of paper and sticking it on my face, but I couldn’t see anything but blobs of color and now there’s stuff kind of gluing my eyelashes open. Also, I got some of it in my mouth, and my mouth tastes like a butt now. I’m going to go take a shower before I stick this letter in the time capsule, and maybe use some mouthwash or something.

P.P.P.S In case it wasn’t obvious, don’t tell anypony about the paint thing, and don’t try it for yourself. Seriously, paint tastes like butts.

/////////////////////////////////////////

18

Let me clarify: butts taste bad. I’ve licked them, I’m not a fan.

Now, the other thing. I mean, I think we both know what I’m talking about, right? But yeah – that can taste good. I mean, I’m going to assume that we both are cool with talking about this, because we’re both interested that way, right? I mean, I’m pretty sure you are, and I know that I am. But I’m not sure that you’ve actually…

Guh. Why is this awkward to bring up with someone who doesn’t talk and won’t tell anypony else? I mean, even in LIGHT of…okay, whatever. It’s a thing.

Something you might not know: Griffons do not taste good. They’re all meaty and kind of a little bit nasty. I think they like each other, which I guess makes sense, because like meets like with species, but it doesn’t work the other way across. ~~She even said that I was too sweet for her taste, not that it stopped us.~~ Eww, okay, that might be a *bit* too personal.

But yeah, we definitely taste the best as a species, and that varies from source to source. ~~Don’t blame me for this, okay? I was young, we were all young, we wanted to experiment, it was fun, and pubescent drama is just pubescent drama.~~

~~What happens at flight academy stays at flight academy~~

~~Okay, I guess there’s no way to phrase that politely, bugger it~~

Apparently, I actually taste better than anypony else.

~~In case you needed a little motivation~~

Okay, why the hay did I decide to start talking about…THAT part of my life? Just weird. I’m being weird. This whole thing started as a digression from yesterday’s letter, and the extrapolation on a metaphor wasn’t necessary in the first place.

~~So. Let’s move on.~~

Actually, let’s clear something else up first. I actually haven’t dated anypony SINCE flight academy, okay? Not that I don’t like anypony else, but I just don’t think of them that way. Besides, official romance is a lot of unnecessary drama. It doesn’t HAVE to be, but inevitably things end up getting too serious, and the whole thing gets tangled up in a snarl of obligations and implications and the sort of hypercharged emotions that ruin perfectly nice friendships. Noooooooo thank you. Which doesn’t mean I’m going to break your heart! I’m flattered that you like me that way. Just saying – our attitudes and interests are probably different, so I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.

~~Have you tried Applejack, actually?~~

Wow, that sounded really callous. Okay, just want to clarify further. Out of the ponies I know, I’m pretty sure Rarity and Twilight are only into colts. (I know Twilight looks like she has a thing for her mentors, but she seemed hurt when I went too far about the teasing – not embarrassed, HURT – and I kind of realized she must have gotten teased about it a lot and it probably wasn’t true and I think I hurt her feelings. ~~I’m a bad friend~~ I’m a less good friend than I’d like to be). Fluttershy’s got that thing with Discord, and Pinkie Pie seems like she’s got some emotional issues to work out, if that whole deal with her surprise birthday party was any indication.

And me… I’ve got my own issues to work out, too. You might have guessed.

Didn’t want to leave it hanging here, so I took a half-hour break and came back here to write some more. I bet it just looks like the next second over to you, though. Let me assure you, though, it’s not.

That came across as kind of cold, okay? I *like* you, I really do. I’m flattered that you care enough to keep reading these, and that – you’ve confirmed with Twilight, if nopony else – that you actually really kind of like me despite all my hostility and rambling conversations. I figured that my crazy banter would have warned you off, but…it’s like the reverse vulnerable, you know? Like I could say anything here and you’ld understand, by virtue of not having to interject your own opinion, but *listening* nonetheless.

So, yeah. Here I am. On one hoof, sonic rainboom, wonderbolts, element of harmony. On the other hoof, sticking paint on my face, neglecting showers, had more sex in the six months after my flowering than most ponies have in their entire life.

If things get a bit weird from here on out, at least you hopefully know what you’re getting into.

Neurotically yours,

-Rainbow Dash.

//////////////////////////////////////////

19

Do me a favor, okay? The second you don’t want to read these anymore, stop taking the letters out of the time capsule – or put them back, really. It’ll let me know when I’ve said too much, and I’ll know that I’ve gotten too weird.

Brace yourself. I feel like I kind of opened the floodgate with the whole ramble-thing yesterday, whatever you want to call it, and I’m not sure there’s any going back. If you’re going to listen to me talk about anything, the infinite monkeys on infinite typewriters are eventually going to run into something profoundly weird.

I guess on a less weird note, uh…

It’s been over half a month. The castle, as far as I can tell, is working out just fine for everypony. My Cloudsdale house is almost bare, and I’ve got virtually all my stuff inside of the castle now.

I’m trying to get used to eating at the great hall-ish table, but it feels wrong. Fundamentally awkward. That sort of dressing is for ponies that…

…are of high regard and who commune together, a band of legends. Which is, actually, us.

But I don’t feel like it. I’m not even sure I want to feel like it. Don’t get me wrong; I’m pretty sure that I’m happy with my life. And I do eventually want to be a wonderbolt and get international acclaim.

I just don’t want to live it, you know? My house was fine the way it is. Ponyville is fine the way it is. I don’t need to surround myself from pure crystal and eat at massive tables. I mean, what comes next? Solid gold utensils? Statues everywhere? Pegasus down pillows? If you could have glory without the trappings, I’d be happy.

If nothing else, trappings lead to expectations, expectations lead to obligations. And unless you’re very careful, obligations are trouble. I got lucky when I decided to befriend the other elements of harmony. My luck isn’t always like that, and I can’t count on it happening again.

But maybe you’re luckier. Maybe you’re wiser. Better at making the decisions that matter. And you know, I want to believe that. But you decided, out of all of us, to be interested in me.

I don’t think that was very wise of you.

Reiterating her warnings,

-Rainbow Dash

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Letters #20-24

20

Okay, so you’re not going to BELIEVE this. It’s a good sort of not-believe-this, I promise.

You know how Twilight was a smuggy Mcsmug-head for, like, the past couple of weeks or so? About this whole “oooh, I know her, but I’m not going to tell you who she is, oooh, secrets and lies, oooh, I guess you like reading after all, oooooooooooooooh”?

And you know how they both kind of ran into me, her and AJ I mean, just like out of the nowhere?

So I was heading out to get a bit of fresh air, spread my wings and – smack – plow right into Twilight while I was rounding a corner. Not my fault this stupid castle likes to have tight, maze-y corners and stuff, being all pretentious with its “ooooooh fabulous ooooooh fancy ooooooooooooooh” layout. Like Carousel Boutique with the tackiness turned up to 11, right?

But she’s holding on to a folder, and like, the contents go flying everywhere. So I start to try and pick them up, while she’s whining and scrabbling about all over the place, and I’m telling her to stop being such a newborn when I go and pick up a stray piece of paper and – get this – it’s a suggestive photo of Princess Celestia.

I know, right?

She was doing one of those lying-on-her-side-body-shot, full horizontal. It looked more like some kind of painting, more then anything else, but it didn’t have any paint or filter or anything. Still, though.

And then I feel a tugging on the paper, and it’s Twilight trying to use magic to jerk it out of my hands, so I grip down harder, at which point she yanks on it so hard the thing tears in half, also horizontally. Ouch.

“Give that back!” she yells. So I tell her okay, and then whip down and grab another picture before she could keep it out of my hands. And this time, it’s a back-angle shot, of the princess almost literally pressing her plot against the camera, turning her head to look at a coquettish (not sure I’m using that word right? I didn’t ask Twilight, she’s not much in the mood to be asked questions right now) side-angle at the lens.

Which was actually the second-best or best plot I’ve seen in, like, ever. ~~It sure as hell blew hers out of the water, and I’m not gonna lie that I kind of blushed while staring at the picture.~~

I’m pretty sure I whispered “Nice”, or something at that point, because Twilight started making little sputtering sounds, and I turned back to look at her and she was blushing bright red. Like, the actual dickens bright red.

“What?” I said, handing the picture to her in what I assumed was nonchalantly. “It’s a great picture. I’m guessing the whole folder’s like that?”

Smoke. Out of her ears.

“Yes”, she squeaks, in the tiniest little voice.

I could have teased her – and maaaaaaaybe, just a little bit, I’m regretting having not done it. But it didn’t seem like the right thing to do at the time, you know? Like I wrote earlier – she seemed really upset the first time I did it, and there’s a difference between teasing someone and making fun of them.

So I helped her pick up the rest, and then I asked when she started getting all of these. The answer is long and rambling and involves a lot of alcohol, and honestly kind of boring to think about writing! So I don’t think I’m going to do it. The point is, Twilight had a crush, and the two enjoyed playing about at being flirty, but Twilight was ultimately not her type, so then she was sad, but then flash sentry happened, and apparently I don’t remember any of this because even if she had made it obvious then it would have taken, like, the ground turning into a checkerboard to get me to pay attention and yadda yadda yadda.

You figure her actual cutie mark is being sarcastic and pitiable at the same time?

So I asked what she was going to do with this, and her answer was “take these outside and burn them.” So then I asked if we should roast marshmallows over this, and she answered yes. I mean, in the middle of the afternoon.

Why does this feel like a page out of my book even more so than it does hers?

Still, it was a better pretense for eating food that Pinkie tends to come up with. Kinda a shame that it had to be just between the two of us – furtively, I mean. Come to think of it, where was Pinkie Pie, anyway? Did Twilight pick the time to burn these as the one time where Pinkie wouldn’t be snooping in, and I just happened to be an accident in all of this?

Okay, that was part one. The fun part. I’m going to go give my hoof a rest, then write you the rest of today tonight or something. ~~Today tonight? Yeah, that totally sounds dumb.~~ Anyway.

////////////////////////////////////////

20, again

You would not believe how sore my hoof is. Okay, maybe you would, but hopefully it’s just taking-my-word believe and not I’ve-experienced-this believe, because the latter would be wicked painful and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

So just to summarize, Twilight and I were roasting marshmallows over a bunch of vaguely pornographic pictures of Princess Celestia in the middle of the morning behind castle McCrystalGlitter. And I didn’t realize how awkward that actually sounded until I just wrote it out now. I mean, like, wow – you’re just gonna have to accept that and move on, okay?

And that’s when things got weird. Didn’t start that way. I asked her if she had moved on with that, judging by the burning of the vanities, and she said yes, and I asked if it was that flash sentry guy, and she said no, and I was going to ask her who it was and how far along things were with them when she asked me if I was feeling okay.

And I had this sick teasing that I was going to lay down on her since I figure that the new pony isn’t off limits for making fun of, and so I was kind of caught off guard.

“You looked kind of sad yesterday after you dropped off the letter”, she said. “I mean, it’s okay to be sad if you want to, but I was wondering if it had to do with the letters you’ve been writing.”

So I told her no, and figuring that it was just kind of not a big deal to say, I told her that I was writing down stuff that happened to me in the past, and that it made me kind of sad to think about it.

“Do you mean melancholy?” she asked. “Are you sad because of things that you miss?” And the only answer I could think of was “sort of”, because it wasn’t that close to the answer, but it wasn’t entirely false.

“It’s okay”, she said. “I’m really happy that I got to meet all of you guys, since you’re my very best friends! But even though I’m happy with that, I still miss being Princess Celestia’s student sometimes. I learned so much about magic and history and…”

I think she probably noticed the look on my face, because her “I’m-going-to-list-everything-maybe-in-a-song” face kind of dissolved into something slightly chagrined and a heck of a lot more tolerable.

“Anyways,” she said, “If there’s something you want to talk about, you can always ask me, right?”

Which was really nice of her. Twilight can be a bit preachy and meddling sometimes, but she genuinely does seem to care about everypony else. I can see why you’d want to have her as a friend.

We didn’t talk about anything that important afterwards – I gave her a few flying tips while we had marshmallows, but that was that. I got a shovel and helped bury the ashes of the pictures after that, and spent most of the rest of the day washing marshmallow goop off of my hooves, practicing some limb exercises and looking at that picture of Celestia’s plot.

What, you think I was going to let that beauty go to waste?

Anyways. I’d ask if you wanted me to send a copy, but I doubt I’d get a straight answer one way or another. So I guess you’ll hear from me some time tomorrow, and I’ll hear from you…probably never, I don’t know.

Eyes on the prize,

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////

21

Pretty fun morning. I brought Tank out to practice some basic agility tests. He’s pretty good at weaving between buildings, which is something that a rookie might have trouble with. Then again, he’s going at a pace just barely above “hover”, but, hey, not his fault. I did what I could for his motor; at this point, I’m just going to ask Twilight and see if she can soup it up a bit, get him up to a more comparable speed. Not to me, of course, but maybe like Flitter. When she has the flu.

But, hey, Tank’s trying really hard. I’ve got to give him credit for that.

Anyway, I wanted to say that it struck me as weird that you’re reading my letters like this. Not that you’re reading, not that it’s me, but this particular song and dance. But I guess we both recognize, at the point, that you’re looking for a safe barrier between the speaker and the spoken to, and I’m kind of looking for that as well. It’s weird, but I should probably stop angsting about it.

But I think the more appropriate question isn’t what I’m writing back – since we already went over that, durr – but why.

I mean, I’m sitting here, underneath this tree, cobbling together these notes like I’ve been doing for something close to three weeks now. There’s a gentle breeze, the air smells vaguely like lilac and vanilla, and the colors are so bright that it’s almost painful. I could be doing almost literally anything on a day like this, but I’m sitting here, hunched over a scroll like a doofus, quill in hand and bottle of ink resting in a nook between a couple of roots. And, y’know, this isn’t the sort of thing I’d be doing for completely selfless reasons. Which isn’t to say that I’d go out of my way for other ponies, but I feel compelled to do this in a different way then duty normally makes me feel.

So we come back to why.

And I think that brings me back to “what’s changed?” and I guess if you want the answer, body and mind, it’s that I actually started slowing down. Not taking a break – that’s a pause from one thing to another – but taking the general pace down a couple of notches. Training Tank’s something I did, sure, but I’m going over it more in-depth these days. Reading, sure, I did that too, but not as much as I started doing a week or so ago. And I’ve been flying less for both of these these things, and (no duh) also to write all of this to you.

So is it something I’m trying to tell you? I mean, that I want to tell you? Are they the same thing? ~~Am I asking too many questions?~~ Wow, I knew that sounded stupid even before I finished writing it.

I’ve been telling you about myself; the day-to-day Rainbow Dash, since you probably know all about the Legendary Historical Totally Awesome Rainbow Dash. Or, heck, I’m sure they’re writing about me in the history books already – check your local listings. And, y’know, that’s kind of nice – I get to share something without it sounding so obvious or redundant. It’s like I get to relive the day, but through you me writing to you ~~if that doesn’t sound stupid~~ of course it sounds stupid, but I’m saying it anyway. So, I mean, that feels good.

But is that because it’s specifically you that I want to tell things to? I mean, I could say the same thing to squirt, or somepony else in the Rainbow Dash fan club. Is it different because I’ve never seen you, or because this was supposed to be a romantic thing? ~~I mean, if Twilight was right~~ I have no reason to believe Twilight would lie to me ~~which is more than I can say for myself, I guess.~~

So maybe I want to have my cake and eat it too, then. ~~Whatever the hay that expression is supposed to mean~~. I want to feel loved, and I want to be cute and drop details of my day as if you were some kind of special somepony, but I don’t want to actually pretend to make some kind of romantic overture. ~~But you’re doing the exact same thing, so who cares?~~

Or is it wrong to just have somepony to talk to? I mean, talk-talk. And is that even really a thing? I talk to ponies, I mean, but I can’t imagine that they’d ever want to do quasi-intimate conversational bonding for its own sake.

Or is that what they’ve been trying to do? Is that what Applejack tried to do, when she wanted to talk about how I’ve changed and wanted to know what was on my mind? Is this what Twilight was trying to do, when she wanted to encourage my reading – did she want somepony to bond with over that?

Are other ponies lonely like that? Are they trying to reach out to each other, but pull back when they think nopony cares? I don’t know how I should feel about that. I’m not sure I have anything to bond over with Applejack and Twilight – should I give it a try anyway? Or will they mistake it for love?

For that matter, I have no idea whether you like any of the things that I do. Not that you’ve actually said anything about it, one way or another. ~~I’ve just assumed everything, and I guess you’re not giving me a reason to NOT assume anything. Guh. Why don’t you ever say anything? Ever? You wrote to me, like, once, and this is just getting kind of frustrating~~

I guess this is the point, though. Having to put faith in something without getting to know about it or not.

~~This had better not start getting quasi-religious or I’m going to flip a table or something, I don’t need that kind of crap in my life~~

I guess the answer is that I don’t really know, but that’s why I’m going to keep going along with it. I still really hope we get to meet face-to-face someday, though. Maybe I’ll even reconsider things.

Just so I can finally start talking.

Mutely,

-Rainbow Dash

//////////////////////////////////

22

Took a bit of a walkabout through the castle today. I tried making a checklist, yesterday and today, of all of the things in the castle that are really more formal than they should be.

The great hall was the obvious one. The thrones were even more obvious. The arched windows are, of course, silly – what’s wrong with having just a small one? If you want that much air or that much of a scene, just go outside. It won’t kill you. There’s no really good reason why they should be there, unless you’re into the whole stained glass thing. And why make a broken window in the first place?

Then there are the stairs. Too many stairs. Too vertical a building. My cloudsdale home’s like that because pegasi don’t care about stairs, and don’t have to deal with lame and thoroughly uncool building materials like wood and stone. But if you’re actually going to walk up and down them…they look impressive, but why not just get someplace flatter? Not have to worry about that? Isn’t it, I don’t know, discriminating against the crippled or something?

And what happens if Fluttershy, or Rarity or Applejack breaks a leg? I mean, Fluttershy has wings, but ~~I don’t think she’ll ever use them unless she absolutely has to~~ flying really isn’t her thing.

Rooms are too large. Corners are too fancy. Entrance is ludicrous. Needs more exits. I’m not going to even get into how silly the commode looks. At least they didn’t mess up the bedrooms too badly.

But I felt like at least part of that was trying not to think about obligations. I know I talked about that earlier. I’m not sure you quite understood what I meant. Maybe it would be better if I gave an example?

The luckiest fillies at flight academy are the ones that are middling in popularity.

When you’re the butter between the bread, you tend to be less obtrusive than the spongy, wheaty, oversized bread on the other side. Having between one and five friends is better than having ten and fifty, because things feel personal. There’s the prerequisite three conversations where you get the boring chatter out of the way – weather, lunch, nice-to-meet-yous, etc. – then you get to talking about hobbies, interests, values. You get to *know* other ponies, not just know them. There’s a world of a difference. I make fun of them, but there’s no way I’d ever stop being friends with, well, my true friends – we’re in too deep, know each other too well, care too much about what’s going on in each other’s lives. Like it or not, when you only know a small cluster of ponies, you’re going to do the same thing.

But when you’re floating on the top, there’s just too many ponies to ever break the three. You get one, two at tops – A BFF or a shoulder curtain, take your pick. Other than that, you can get all of the accolades and be loved by everypony – but it’s a shallow sort of love. Not intentionally or maliciously shallow, but again – not enough time, not enough to invest in anything meaningful. Ironically, we don’t end up feeling any less lonely then anypony else – we’re just supposed to act like we aren’t, and playing a mask the entire time gets tiring. Granted, yours truly has close to unlimited energy, but given that I’m not exactly rarity or pinkie pie when it comes to the sociability department, if nothing else I found it a little bit…you know. Annoying or irritating doesn’t really describe it. It’s probably a bit closer to…

give me a minute

~~make that five~~

~~holy hooves make this ten~~

wanting, I guess. Hollow? That’s the best I’ve got.

Everypony can be wonderful, but the more of everypony there is, the less of everypony there is. It seems greedy, and I’m not sure you’ll understand, but I hope at least some of what I’m saying doesn’t entirely sound like horse apples.

Still, better that than being at the bottom.

Poor Fluttershy.

~~I’m sorry.~~

Screw you. You don’t get to know details about that. Isn’t the fact that she’s a wallflower and a terrible flyer enough of a clue as to what it was like for her?

Trust me on this one. Discord or no, I wouldn’t trade horseshoes with her.

Queen Bee Pegasusy,

-Rainbow Dash

////////////////////////////////////////////////

23

I’ve started hitting the cider again. I’m not entirely sure why. Writing to you didn’t help, though; I just felt sad after doing it, like I was a bit emptier inside. Flight academy was a lot of fun, but that’s sort of the problem: once what you have is gone, you start desperately wishing you could have it back.

Started drinking this morning, right after breakfast (some kind of leek and imitation omelet thing; Rarity’s cooking. She’s been practicing a bunch of the “feminine arts” after she made herself comfortable in the castle, and I guess that was one of them. It actually didn’t taste too bad.) Got drunk, walked Tank, got lunch, here I am. I haven’t flown on my own in longer than is normal, not exactly sure how many days, a bit too light-headed to really care all that much.

I wonder if the girls like drinking? I wonder how good they are at it?

Fluttershy I know for sure did/does/would not ever want it. Pinkie I expect is hitting harder stuff than I’d ever want to.

Twilight’s probably the kind that would be curious, but forfeit after two, three at most.

Applejack and Rarity probably have hidden depths, and I bet either/both could go hard at it.

Not as hard as me, though.

I wonder if I’ll ever be able to drink with you?

Getting myself another mug of off-season cider,

-Rainbow Dash

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////

24

Given how much I had yesterday, I really should have a splitting headache. And I do have a bit of a headache, but it’s not nearly as…apocalyptic?... as I was expecting. You ever wonder if headaches are supposed to be nature’s way of telling you that you’ve had too much, and to cool it down a bit next time?

‘Cause that would explain why Pinkie seemed kind of flummoxed when I started asking my friends about this yesterday. It’s not just small ones – she never gets hangovers at all. Period. I mean, I get little ones if I’ve had too much – sort of like the one I’m nursing now – but they’re manageable. I had to *actually* explain the concept of them to her, if you can believe that.

Which is funny, because almost everypony else said yes, they did. Except Fluttershy, who I didn’t ask, for obvious reasons.

But back to the metaphor. If I used to have only little headaches when I got hammered, does that mean that I was/am the sort of pony that doesn’t have to suffer the consequences of irresponsibility?

Would I have been a better pony if I had gotten them worse?

Should I drink more now just to see if I can make it worse?

And I never asked Applejack, and she wouldn’t tell me the one time I asked her, so…exactly much cider did I drink that one day? I mean, given normally…did I actually drink the entire keg? Or close to it? It’s all a blur, ~~which tends to happen when I’m deliberately trying to drink enough to black out my memories.~~

Screw this. I’m getting more to drink.

Welp, ten minutes later and I’m actually all out of cider. Okay, you know what, that’s got to be confusing for you. Should I put down, like, some sort of mark to let you know when I’m walking away from the page? Okay, you know what, good idea, I’ll do that. And how about a number after it, like, for how long I was away doing other things? So maybe

@10 ?

Little swirly blob says I was out for ten minutes. Okay, I like it. Could use a bit of color, but I can’t find the colored inks again. ~~I think I need to get this place more organized.~~

~~I say that every time and I never get organized so might as well just go with that fact.~~

Okay, you know what? I said that about my inconsistent schedule, and I’m not gonna doubt that anymore. Starting right after I finish this letter, my spot in this castle is getting clean. I can think of worse ways to spend this morning and this afternoon.

I’d say now, but it does actually sound kind of boring and the alternative is writing to you. ~~Which I’m not totally at all running out of things to say.~~

Screw it, let’s go do that right now.

@5

I’m so bored

I’m so very bored

Please don’t hold this one against me. I’ll clean it eventually. Not gonna pinkie pie promise that one, though, because ~~I’m not crazy and~~ I don’t have a death wish.

You know what? If only so I can pretend I’m organizing, I’m going to go through some of my old things. Who knows? Maybe it’ll give me something to do.

Yours,

-Rainbow Dash

Letters #25-28

25

Did you know that I used to play guitar? I mean, I haven’t in ages, but it was pretty popular in Flight Academy. See, stringed instruments – I guess mostly music in particular – is supposed to be a unicorn thing, right? But when everypony else has the exact same tools as you to work with, “virtuoso” doesn’t really mean anything. We played thrash – by which I mean flailing wildly around on the strings, pressing our hooves against whatever frets we felt like – and we played it hard and fast, and we even sometimes played it in a key of music.

Grab your friends, get in a band. Obviously, music carries far that way up in the clouds, but I’m pretty sure the coaches would only have cared if we were disturbing them, and we took it away pretty far. Ever heard of Warehouse 6? Used to be a boutique, later the site got repossessed and cleaned out, supposed to be used as an actual warehouse? It never did. I mean, it was open for years, or so I got told, but there was never once a crate of anything that got on in it. Except us.

Or maybe some drug dealers, but who cares? If it was used for crime, that just added to the appeal. We were young, we wanted to believe we were rebellious, and the idea of being associated with the counterculture was massively appealing. In retrospect, why we didn’t get caught or into trouble is still a mystery. Maybe it’s been a tradition – punk fillies blowing off steam and feeling like siblings without actually doing anything damaging?

Not that it mattered. We stunk, all of us, but it was fun. Whoever could play louder and look cooler won, so to speak, so it was kind of like the loudest game out there. Popularity was pretty big, too, since it meant that you could get the best freelancers if one of your classmates had detention or were otherwise grounded on the weekends.

I was in a band with this griffon, Gilda, and one of her friends. Transfer students. We called ourselves Violet Haze and smeared charcoal on our faces and pretty much made up our songs on the spot. Someone would start riffing, and someone else would start playing similar notes, and presto, song. And then Breeze Jumper – our vocalist, pretty good flyer, heck of a voice, smeared her face with rouge and called herself “BJ” on the stage – she’d start straight up making up lyrics and we’d work around her, and it was great. If we ever played the same song twice, it was an accident, because it was totally spontaneous. And also, totally wicked awesome.

Even playing bass guitar is hard when you don’t have magic, but I’d like to believe that I managed. I had the power grimacing down, for the record. And Gilda was our main guitarist anyway. You know how talons can do pretty cool things with fine manipulation? That girl could *pluck*, and she could shred, and at Warehouse 6 that made her queen. Different reasons, but the two of us were definitely close to the top of the heap during our run at flight academy.

I’ve still got this Neighmer Vanguard gathering dust in my Cloudsdale home, is why I’m bringing this up. I dusted it off, tuned it up a bit. Kind of tempted to play it. I’m pretty sure I can remember at least one of the things we played. Okay, never did the same song twice, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember anything that went down at warehouse 6.

Those were some nights, honestly. If they had been anthropomorphized as ponies, I would’ve married ‘em. But for now, I’ve got my guitar; found it last afternoon. Went up to Cloudsdale to practice a couple of things, for old times’ sake.

Flew over to Canterlot this morning. It wasn’t too hard to find Warehouse 6. Looks the same as ever. I even went inside – still bare, and smelling faintly of cheap alcohol. I didn’t play anything, though. It’s not the same without the band, without the crowd. Even if I went back there, I can never really go back – hopefully you’ll get what I’m saying.

And there are some things I don’t want to remember, or think about. I don’t want to remember Breeze Jumper like that, and I don’t want to remember Gilda like that. And I don’t want to remember Gilda’s friend at all.

So instead, I flew out to this spot by the time capsules. I tuned it low, not sure I needed to, the amp was what made it loud. Still didn’t want anypony to hear me.

It sounds bad. We always sounded bad. But at least the fact that it’s as I thought it would be is a comfort.

If you’re a musician, please teach me how to play better.

Strumming away for now,

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////////////

26

Good news: I actually remember something we played during one of the weekends after the summer sun celebration. We called it “Rock”, ‘cause, uh.

You’ve got to believe it’s awesome, trust me on this, okay?

Lyrics went something like:

“Rock rock rock rooock,
rock rock rock rock rock.
rock rock roooooock,
rockrock rock rock rooooock roooooooooooooock”

…like a minute long. And yeah. But it was seriously the best thing ever written, trust me on this one.

I actually played two notes. They were, uh…

My cutie mark isn’t in music, okay?

@10

Okay, flipped through some of my old records. Ever heard Neighvana’s “Flowering”? this song sounded nothing liked it, but it used a couple of the notes. At least, what I did had it. That’s the closest I can come to explaining it, okay? You want a thorough discussion of music, you, uh…

Pinkie probably knows somepony to talk to about this, but I feel like if I start talking to pinkie I’m going to get dragged off on some crazy escapade and then I’ll never get around to actually finishing this.

But you get my point.

Hey, do you like Neighvana? I mean, okay, not getting an answer. Let me try something else: would it be a dumb guess to assume that you like it? I assume it appeals to introverted ponies more than extroverted ones. Then again, I’m pretty sure that I’m the only pony in our group that likes it, so…

Scratch that idea, I guess?

But if it helps, I like it. It’s not an every day sort of music, but after I got some flying practice in – FINALLY beginning to catch up on my training, more than a bit embarrassing that I let it slip so far – I put some records on while I was in the shower. Different stuff. Interesting stuff. Sad stuff. Beautiful stuff.

Gilda said things about them that I’m not going to repeat here.

Hey, maybe you really *are* a musician. Wouldn’t that be cool, if you were making songs about me? About the elements of harmony? I mean, I guess that’s just another shot in the dark, really.

But if you were, I’d love to hear what you had to sing about us. If nothing else, I bet it’d be very pretty.

One Jamma Lata,

-Rainbow Dash

//////////////////////////////////////

27

I asked Pinkie Pie about the music. She recommended half a dozen different ponies to me, then about five hundred records, then asked me to make up for lost friendship time with her.

Apparently, there are so many sunny days coming up (and she’s got a friend with the weather factory how again, exactly? Or should I just assume that pinkie pie’s actually friends with everypony, and that’s not merely exaggeration), that she decided that we needed to get ready for what felt like three months’ worth of picnics in advanced. And, of course, since I was her “company”, that meant I had to help out with the “fun” bits. This means desserts.

And pinkie pie’s a perfectionist about pastries, at least when it comes to party planning. Or maybe she’s just a sadist, I don’t know. Point was, today was cupcakes day, and it was our “job” to take care of the ones that weren’t up to snuff.

Given how good a baker pinkie is, I’m pretty sure that all the “mistakes” she made were an elaborate setup.

This is worse than the rock candy incident. I have never felt so bloated in my entire life. Lugging my butt back to bed felt like trying to walk a marathon with five saddlebags filled rocks strapped to my waist.

Okay, more like ten. I really hope I don’t barf. That would be embarrassing. I guess this is punishment for not being able to say “no”. ~~which is rather fitting~~

Okay, I don’t know why I keep doing this, this…trying to say whatever’s on my mind and then constantly pussyfooting around the issue. Is it because I’m desperate to try and find solace, but am unwilling to take the final step? Because that would be profound of me to say, and also rather revoltingly stupid. You read that earlier bit about psychoanalysis, right?

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Okay, I think I’m just being weird because I’m feeling sick. Then again, all I can really think of doing besides writing to you is thinking about how awful my stomach feels, and I could honestly use the distraction.

Which is really uncomfortable. I can’t remember the last time I was bedridden because I was sick. I’m tempted to say never, actually. Though come to think of it, nopony really gets sick in our group. Is that coincidence, or is it a side effect of being one of the elements of harmony? Or maybe it was retroactive – like we never got sick because we would eventually become the elements of harmony? Or if that even makes any sense

putting this down for a while, I think I’m going to hurl

@5

false alarm. I still feel awful, but at least I don’t feel explosively awful. Which is good.

All this thinking is tiring me out. I’m going to power nap for a while.

Hanging in there,

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////////

28

crudcrudcurdcurdcrud I know this letter is late I’m sorrrrrrrrry

I slept through the entire day. Woke up at, like, ten in the morning. Everypony had the good grace not to disturb me. Pinkie wanted to know if this was a warm-up for when we get ready to make sandwiches, which I turned down. I hope politely enough. I think she took it as such.

Anyway, I’m even more behind on my wing training since I skipped yesterday, so I’m taking a rain check on today’s letter. Will write more tomorrow, though!

Also, speaking of rain, I think pinkie’s right in that the sun’s going to hold out for quite a while, so no need to worry about getting poured on while collecting one of these. I don’t know how long after I write these letters that, um

okay you know what grammar isn’t my strong point

the time it takes you to pick up the mail

after I drop it off

I guess?

Whatever, you get my point. I think. I hope. Okay, point was that … whatever. I don’t even care anymore

I’m gonna go fly now.

Later,

-Rainbow Dash

Letters #29-31

29

Room still not clean. Colored Ink still not found. I don’t care. It’s raining outside.

Not a downpour, but I guess the grass and all the other crops needed a refresher.

It’s just me, and you, and the records. And I’ll be darned if this doesn’t actually feel more awkward then on perfectly nice days, where I could actually be doing something productive. Maybe it’s because it feels forced this way? Not natural?

But I’m not going out in this rain. Nothing could make me do that.

I’ve got an idea.

////////////////////////////////////////////

So for lack of a better idea, Rainbow Dash has asked me to help her write her letter. “I’m running out of things to say”, she said. “But I don’t want to let her down”, she said. I’m going to admit that it’s rather clever of her to assume a “her” – perhaps she is better at inferring cues than I had originally assumed? Or, possibly, it was a spur-of-the-moment assertion of an assumption of gender. I will choose, however, to believe in a burgeoning growth in her intelligence, as a result of close exposure to those who value education and a solid work ethic.

She’s quite intelligent, actually. She merely has developed off-color learning habits, and grew up in an environment that heavily discouraged academia. I firmly believe that had she grown up in Canterlot academy (though this assumption relies on the assumption that she were also a unicorn capable of magic), that she would be quite a talented and capable student. I have not yet given up hope of raising her mind to proper fruition.

But as of now, she is beginning to question why I am writing at such an extended length. I have assured her (and hopefully you) that I am writing as fast as I am capable of. This is certainly at a speed that exceeds hers, which is one of the advantages of many years spent in the practice of precise motor-mechanical telekinesis, with a specific emphasis on writing.

But as I am making her slightly uncomfortable with my protracted silence on the subject, I will now narrate the next passage out loud, provided I am allowed to conclude with a few more private notes. I have no reason to believe that she would find this unacceptable, as it is merely a matter of placing faith in her as she has placed faith in you.

That was most efficacious of her. And now, we shall begin.

Attention, dear mystery recipient of my Good Friend Rainbow Dash’s Time Capsule Sentiments: you no doubt have heard from her the same sort of bewilderment and amazement both at your particular focus on her makeshift memoirs, but I share to a degree a sense of wonder both at your trepidation to speak publicly with Rainbow Dash concerning your affection for her and the degree to which you are, in fact, in love with her. While I, like a good friend, am keeping kept the secrets I have been entrusted with, I would like to acknowledge that your trust is not entirely misplaced, for the element of loyalty knows better than anypony else the intricacies and degrees of loyalty that may be established among friends. To this extent, Rainbow Dash is willing to entrust in conversational boundaries and provide you with insights on her character both to inform you as to the state of her true nature and to encourage you to eventually reveal yourself and be as open with her as she has been with you. She would like to conclude with the assertions that you have made a superior decision in your devotion not solely for the purpose of eventual reciprocation, but also because she is “highly awesome, totally radical, completely amazing and unstoppably cool.” For her sake, I will assume that those are, in fact, separate entities.

And so concludes her official sentiments. She’s certainly fond of you, you know, even if she’s not telling me how much it exactly is. Please take good care of her heart; I worry that, with the degree to which she has scribbled out her innermost thoughts, it may be more fragile than it appears.

That’s a knock on Rainbow Dash’s door. Excuse me

Hi! My name is Pinkie Pie and I heard at least a little bitty bit about this letterwriting thing! I’m so superduperhappy that I’m able to finally write to you! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!

I know I’m going to keep a secret because A PINKIE PIE PROMISE IS A PINKIE PIE PROMISE!!!!!!! But I just wanted to say that it’s really really cool that she seems happy with writing to you!!!!! And I really really hope that you meet up sometime and things get awesome!

Also you should stop by for a picnic once your two have met up and all of that stuff! Pinkie pie picnics are something that has to be seen to be believed! Ooooh, and pinkie pie parties, and

I do believe it will be to our mutual advantages if Twilight Sparkle and Applejack restrain Pinkie Pie for a few moments. I fear that if she were allowed to list all of the various things which she wished for you to do, that you would have an overabundance of lists and an underabundance of patience.

Nevertheless, this is Rarity writing to you. I shall keep myself terse, but do ultimately wish the both of you well and hope that you will forgive this intrusion. Everything is going lovely in Ponyville, and there is nothing for me to report that would not become rapidly self-evident by a couple of moments’ careful observations.

Oh, and do encourage Rainbow Dash to dress a little more fittingly, won’t you? Or at the very least, encourage her to do something about her mane. It’s so garishly unrefined, but she simply refuses to listen to my suggestions.

I…guess I’m supposed to write something here? Uh, howdy. It’s Applejack. Uh, good luck?

/////////////////////////////////////////////

30

Ugggggggghhhhhhhhhhh

I *really* want to be mad at everypony right now. I asked for Twilight to write something for me, and Twilight only. And then the next thing I know, everypony’s hijacked my letter and they’re taking turns writing things to you and I don’t even know what they SAID. And, as usual, they’re being secretive about it, which is just…

Ugggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

If they told you embarrassing stories about me, I’m going to scream. Please just try to forget them if they did tell you anything, okay? Like, you really don’t need to hear about the latest time I went to the hospital. Just assume that I did something awesome and landed there through a tragic and radical twist of fate, because that’s basically true.

At least Pinkie agreed to drop the letters off in the rain. That was nice of her.

As you can tell, I don’t like the rain much at all. It’s sunny now, but still kind of humid, which has got my feathers all wonky and feels pretty stifling. Pro tip: I’m sorry, but I’m not going to go out in the rain for you. You’ll just have to wait in the run for some other time, and I’m sorry if that rubs your shyness the wrong way.

Hey, did they say anything mushy about me? Like “Oh, Rainbow Dash is so totally in love with her, hugs and kisses, you guys should totally go on some sort of passionate cruise together”? Because that would be seriously, totally, awfully sentimental.

ugggggghhhhhhhhh

I mean, honestly, I’m just happy that I have somepony to write to. You could be anypony, really, but you don’t feel like you have to voice your opinion to me and you’re kind of crushing on me. Which is honestly kind of sweet.

Hey, are you Scootaloo after all? ‘Cause I already know that you knew I was a big sister figure. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it.

Though I guess what with that whole bit where you almost got yourself killed, you’re not really all that scared of admitting that you’re a big fan of me. So that’s cool.

Unless love is different from admiration to you?

Also, you’re still young, so that’s kind of not cool. Get your cutie mark first, squirt.

Of course, that’s an assumption. Chances are you’re somepony else. Like I said before – hopefully not somepony super old, because ewwww grosssssss

So.

That whole thing rattled my cage and I’m not sure that I’ll ask Twilight or my other friends to help co-write a letter to me.

That might have been the point, actually. Sneakybutts.

I really hope you’re a Pegasus, though. Once the weather clears up, I’d really like to go flying with you. It’s not even September yet, so we’ll have plenty of warm weather to enjoy together. Heck, maybe I can even teach you about proper cloudkicking and the best way to ride the thermals.

And it’d be nice to fly with somepony. Twilight’s still a rookie, and Fluttershy might as well be an earth pony for all the flying the does these days. And there’s tank, who’s the best pet anypony could ask for, but – I’ve kind of got to take it slow around him, and I’d like to have somepony I could really flex my wings around.

I miss having flight company, honestly. But hey – once I get into the wonderbolts, we’ll probably be flying all day! So I’ll be set. Plus, even cooler. All the best things, right?

But I mean, if you’re not, that’s cool, too. We can’t all get wings, and I don’t really begrudge you if you’re some other way. It’d be pretty judgemental of me, and I’m trying to shy away from that. Not necessarily succeeding! But it’s the effort that counts, right?

Except in flying. Awesomeness is everything in flying.

But I’m digressing. Mostly because I can’t think of anything else to say. It’s the humidity; bugging my brain just as much as it bugs my wings. Maybe if I, like, take a really cold bath, then I’ll be able to clear up my thoughts. Guess I’ll drop off this letter first before I do that, though.

I’m not going out in the rain for this letter-writing thing, but I might as well go out into this kind of weather, since there’s something waiting for me at the end of it.

Oh! Before I go -

RAINBOW DASH

Pinkie found those for me! Not that she knew I was looking for them, ‘cause I kept forgetting to tell her, but she did this thing where she found them through crazy Pinkie Pie shenanagins that’d take, like, half an hour of writing to summarize, and she got the bright idea to save them for “a rainy day when somepony might be looking for them.” I’m pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to be literal, but this is pinkie pie; it’s hard to tell. Whatever the case is, I’ve been scribbling down letters for the CMC, gonna try and drop them off “anonymously” at their clubhouse. Granted, they’ll probably figure out who it is, but either way, it should be a happy enough surprise for them. Admiration from a cooler older pony or well-wishes from a mysterious stranger? I’d consider it win/win.

And I guess I can maybe see where you’re coming from, in that sense. Except I guess you’re doing it in reverse?

~~But I really would like to meet up with you sometime, if only just to talk. I’m sorry if this is coming across sort of strongly, but – I just want to know, you know? Have some sense of closure about it. And I’d really like to make a new friend.~~

Okay. Going to drop off this Letter. And I’ll write back to you tomorrow as usual, okay?

Your pal,

RAINBOW DASH

P.S. am I overdoing it with the rainbow ink? Tell me if I am. Or, I mean, you probably won’t, but if you ever feel the need to write me back concerning that, go ahead.

///////////////////////////////////////////

31

Humidity cleared up, as you probably figured out. Went for a swim out by the watering hole. Cannonballs are way more fun when you put yourself a few hundred feet in the air before letting go. I’m glad the watering hole is that deep – or for that matter, that water is so soft. Getting pancaked any time I decided to try something cool doesn’t sound like my idea of fun.

Still not a response from you. But I feel like that one time you wrote to me was when it really mattered. Is it just going to be the case that unless it’s necessary to keep me writing, you’re just going to listen?

I should probably find that annoying, shouldn’t I? I think I’ve mentioned it could feel like I’m doing all of the work here. But I’d like to believe it’s because you’re just telling me that you’re willing to listen, no matter what.

I keep being redundant on this because I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about this. I’m not sure how I feel about a lot of things, actually. I probably shouldn’t have written that bit about flight academy, and I feel like I should go back to more of the daily adventures of me, since I suspect that’s what you want to hear. But there’s part of me that really wants to write things like that. You’re the only pony that I can ~~talk to~~ write to about this.

Part of me hopes that I never see you, then. You’re safe because you can’t, or won’t, judge me. If I have to talk to somepony that actually knows about the things I…

I can’t even tell Pinkie. I can’t even tell Applejack. I definitely can’t tell Rarity, and I really, really want to tell Twilight, but I can’t do that, either. I know what she was like at her brother’s wedding. Even if her hunch is correct, she gets…scary. Really, really scary.

Either she’d know exactly what to do, or she’d banish me from ponyville, and I don’t know which one is more likely. But as much as I want to stop thinking about things, I really want to have friends more. I need to have ponies I can trust.

And I need to hope they can trust me.

I’ll write to you tomorrow. I need to get my mind off of things.

Later,

RAINBOW DASH

Letters #32-35

32

I’ve been doing some thinking this morning, and it led to more thinking, and then I realized I had something I wanted to say to you and half a day has gone by. If nopony else, applejack’s started to notice. “You’ve been real quiet lately, sugarcube” she said to me. “Everything going alright?” she said. “Is something about the whole mystery penpal thing bothering you?” she said.

I wanted to tell her yes and no. I wanted to tell her that actually thinking about things was making me feel better and worse at the same time, mostly worse. I wanted to ask her if it was okay if I could talk to her quietly, in private. I wanted to confess.

But that’s not her place, and it’s not mine, so I told her I was fine. She didn’t believe me, of course, so I admitted that I’ve just been opening up to things that I didn’t feel comfortable talking about with everypony else. I’m happy she didn’t press the issue; I’m happier that she told me I could talk to her anytime I felt ready to talk about things.

Maybe you’re the mystery thief, applejack? Naw. You’re a terrible liar. But it’s kind of uncanny that you had the reaction that I was sort of expecting the actual mail thief to have. Do you know her? Or him, I guess?

Is it Big Macintosh?

Actually, given the whole silence thing and the assumption of listening thing, that’d probably be a pretty likely answer. But I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like a very “him” thing to do, you know? And I thought there might have been something between him and Cheerilee. Though I guess “thought” was the operative word, there.

Hey, Big Mac, if that *is* you. You know I had a marefriend, right?

Exactly one. Her name was Gilda, and she was a griffon. I told you about her before – the lead guitarist in Violet Haze. She was funny, she was cool, and we were both pretty close to the top of the heap in terms of respectability. I was the best flyer in the academy, but she was pretty close. She was the best fighter in the academy, but I could trade blows with her longer then most ponies or griffons could, male or female. Then there was the whole Violet Haze bit – Breeze Jumper was definitely popular, but she didn’t have the tough-as-nails edge or raw flight talent that either of us had, so she wasn’t really in our league. And then the drummer – Gil’s friend, went by Gesso, not sure if that was her actual name – She pretty much stunk at flying, and wasn’t pretty, and wasn’t vocal, so she was kind of at the bottom of the heap.

Is that a griffon thing, like staying with like? Was it a minority thing? I mean, griffons had their own kingdom, of course, so they were kind of way in the lesser numbers at Flight Academy – transfer students, right? So obviously, there’s probably got to be the whole “stick with what you know” thing, because it’s familiar and in an unfamiliar environment that’s the closest you’re ever going to have to a friend, or family, or whatever.

Then again, I got told a lot that there wasn’t any real reason to be friends with Fluttershy back then. Funnily enough, I really actually kind of wasn’t. I know there was the whole earn-our-cutie-marks incident, but that didn’t mean we became best of friends after that. I was still the flight queen, loved the field and the thrill of competition and the adrenal rush, and she loved her animals and being alone with her thoughts, I guess. I didn’t like it when other ponies messed with her, and I let them know that – bloody noises and pulled feathers were the gentler way of expressing myself on that issue, trust me – but besides beating up the jerks that tried to bully her, there wasn’t really much for me to do. And just because you stand up for somepony, it doesn’t automatically make them your friend.

It didn’t even stop me from pranking Fluttershy. Never to hurt or shame her, though, just to startle her. Rigged water fountains, fart-cushions-beneath-cloud-seats, that sort of thing. And I mean, it was *okay* if it was me, because at the end of the day it was me and I was keeping her from getting hurt worse, and I never actually meant anything *bad* by it, so what’s the big deal, right? I was still the closest thing she had to a friend – even though we weren’t – so I was allowed to shake her out of her comfort zone every now and then. Get her to loosen up.

Granted, that’s what past me thought. I’d never do that to Fluttershy these days. EVER.

~~She could still use a bit more loosening up, though~~.

Actually, you know what, let’s skip that last train of thought. I want to talk about Fluttershy.

I know she’s supposed to be, like, one of the most beloved elements of harmony out there – okay, I guess that’s all of us, actually. But she’s the veterinarian that works pro bono these days, absolutely a talent with all sorts of flora and fauna, almost never raises her voice, just…super, super nice, you know? And she was always like that, really. But mostly towards things that she thought she could comfort. And as far as the comfort scale goes, she was pretty much on the bottom rung: nothing for her to comfort, but everyone could have comforted her.

Then again, nopony actually cared about that in flight academy, because that’s not what we were like. She was less some sort of teddy bear figure and more of a nopony. A butt of life’s joke, but I discouraged that behavior pretty hard, so in the end she was basically left alone. Probably for the best, really.

That didn’t mean that she didn’t show up to flight lessons, but she never really tried. Going through the motions and all that, yeah. But in terms of actual extracurricular practice, she never bothered. That, or sports, or clubs, or anything. If she didn’t have her head in some book, she was flapping away to the ground, checking around the rim of the everfree forest or talking to butterflies or whatever – it wasn’t my business, and I didn’t really care. Like I said – we were never exactly friends. All things considered, I’m pretty sure she didn’t have friends, never really volunteered her opinion, and basically did her best to just kind of disappear from the face of the student body. And she kind of succeeded – at least, until Twilight came to town just before the summer sun celebration four years ago and everything changed.

So there you have it. Proof that nobodies can become heroes. Kind of an inspiring story, really.

And I suppose by the same token, heroes can become nobodies.

And that worries me.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

33

Thought about coltfriends and marefriends again. Now I’ve got Twilight and Rarity badgering me about it. I think they must have talked to AJ about it first, though, because they left me alone after a couple of half-hearted questions. I think they must have asked Applejack about it before they asked me, which was awesome of her. Really awesome of her.

~~I wonder if I should just tell her and get it over with.~~

I wonder if Fluttershy and Discord have had sex yet.

I mean, I guess that means “I wonder if Fluttershy will ever have sex ~~again~~”

I can’t imagine it being her thing.

But they really do like each other…don’t they?

What an odd happy ending to have. The world’s biggest wallflower, and the world’s biggest troll. And there just isn’t any irony in it at all – he goofs around a bit, and she’s a bit of a wildlife geek, but they’re ultimately closer than ever after the whole Tirek thing. Which COMPLETELY boggles my mind. He betrayed us, almost doomed ~~Equestria~~ the entire world, and suddenly he gets a free pass? I guess the assumption of redemption is a powerful thing. Pfeh.

But whatever. They like each other. I can deal with it. I still wonder what she sees in him, though.

…I really hope for his sake, if nothing else, that they eventually get around to it.

Worst physical feature of Fluttershy: her mane. It looks like it must get everywhere, the asymmetrical bob is really stupidly distracting, it looks heavy and hot and awkward, and it’s got the really weird stylized curls at the ending. Rarity does sort of the same thing, but at least the curls make it look like some kind of hearth warming’s present, and that’s kind of funny. Fluttershy’s just looks unironically girly.

Best physical feature of Fluttershy: her butt. And I mean, come on, Discord’s got to have noticed that. Anypony on the entire planet would, I mean, come ON. It definitely wasn’t that way at flight camp, but I guess you can definitely fill out over time. I’m sort of jealous, honestly.

If nothing else, I hope he at least gets to enjoy that. Or, you know, just squeeze it a little. ~~It’d be unfair of~~ not even going there.

I’m gonna stop talking about this before I feel weird.

That one skeeze,

-Rainbow Dash

////////////////////////////////////////////////

34

Did I forget to sign off a letter or two ago? I might have forgot, and I shouldn’t do that. I feel like having some sort of organization in my life would actually make it work out a bit better.

Actually, that’s probably just my neuroticism talking. You know I seriously didn’t use to keep anything regular before these letters?

Come to think of it, I mean, I don’t normally, like, ever, talk about…y’know. Sex? I’m not really like that. I’m not really all that much of a cusser, either. ~~Okay, that’s a lie because I used to do it a whole lot, but I don’t really do it all that much anymore.~~ I mean, what’s the point? I just don’t feel as upset as I used to. Grinding life away at the weather factory kills your emotions after a while, and then after Twilight and the rest of my friends… just not as much reason to be unhappy. Or maybe it’s because puberty was starting to wear off by then? Whatever.

I’m mentioning that because I’ve started to backslide into thinking about parts of my life that I haven’t thought about in ages, and I’m worried that I might start backsliding into those habits, too.

I hope not.

…Thank you for letting me talk about this, though. Thank you for picking up my letters like clockwork. I never thought that just…talking about it, you know? Part of me feels like crud, but another part of me actually feels…relief. Like I’m unbinding a weight on my body that’s been there for so long, I’ve all but forgotten about it.

So, uh, yeah.

Still

-Rainbow Dash

////////////////////////////////////////

35

Kill me.

I don’t know why I did it, I don’t know what on earth would prompt me to do it, but.

I ran into Fluttershy as she was picking up “angel food” from the farmer’s market – I guess the little fluffy rat is still as picky and temperamental as ever – and we actually started talking about food and stuff. I haven’t seen her alone in some time. She wasn’t actually part of the whole letter-writing community, ~~not that I can blame her~~. So I was talking about what she was up to, and she mentioned something about a cucumber sandwich picnic in Saddle Arabia of all things, and I asked her if she had done it with him yet.

I haven’t seen her face get that red in a while.

But I actually went and pressed her on it, me being the complete thoughtless jerk that I am. And I promised to keep the secret safe from everypony, and that includes you. This may have been because Discord apparently got wind of this, and promised me that so long as I kept the truth a friendly secret, he wouldn’t make my mouth fall off of my face and start hopping around time, yelling embarrassing phrases in my voice.

Chalk it up to the guy. I’ve never heard anything else that managed to be so silly and dangerous at the same time.

~~I still haven’t forgiven him about Tirek, and I suspect he really doesn’t care.~~

~~The point is that I think he’s getting an inkling that I’m thinking about sexual things, and that might make him start wondering things about Fluttershy, and if there’s anypony who I don’t want to know about everything, it’s him. He might actually, literally, kill me.~~

~~Actually literally~~

Gilda used to say “for real, honestly”, but she never actually meant for real and honestly. In fact, whenever she said it, she always pretty much meant exactly the opposite. I kind of wanted to make “Actually, Literally” be the same thing, but it never caught on, so I just started using “for real, honestly” like she did. Sarcastically, I mean.

But I think actually and literally should mean actually and literally in this case. I just wanted you to know that.

Please believe me.

Please.

-Rainbow Dash.

Letters #36-39

36

I went back to drop off yesterday’s letter, and I heard Fluttershy crying.

Sound travels easily outside of ponyville. I wanted to be a good friend, so I flew over to her cottage. She still basically lives there, but she’s got a better reason than I did: her pets live there, too. Not to mention Discord’s still allowed in the castle, technically speaking, but I can’t imagine that he feels welcome there at all. So they all live there, together, and Fluttershy pops by the castle only from time to time. That’s part of the reason why I haven’t really been talking to her that much at all.

One of her pet mice had died.

She doesn’t have a really good idea of how it happened. It must have been while she was out picking up Angel Bunny’s food. There wasn’t any violence or sickness or anything like that. It wasn’t even that old; its little heart just stopped. I don’t know how medicine works that well; it could have been something wrong with its heart, with its brain, I don’t know. And I didn’t want to ask Fluttershy, because she was crying and cradling her mouse like it was a stillborn foal.

Instead, I gave her a box of tissues and a hug. She stayed in the hug for quite some time, leaning into me and taking sniffling breaths and crying as quietly as she could. I think she was trying to be strong for my sake. Or maybe she didn’t want to embarrass herself. Again – I’m not really good at this sort of empathy thing. But I stayed with her until she felt a lot calmer, and then I asked if she wanted to give it a burial, and she said okay.

We took it outside to over by the river, and we dug a little hole, and we put it inside. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say a few words, but Fluttershy didn’t. She just wiped her eyes, and she stared at the hole for the longest time. And then she turned to me.

“It hurts”, she mumbled. “Every single time.” And I knew exactly what she meant.

I don’t know where Discord was in any of this. I hope he’s able to do a better job of making her feel better than I did. Or maybe the rest of her friends will. I didn’t know if I should have said anything.

I can’t imagine that must have been easy to deal with, though.

I went over to Tank when I came back, and I hugged him. And then I flew for the rest of the day, high in the sky, above everything else. I think it helped.

Talk to you later.

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////

37

We had a meeting today. Which is to say, a meeting about Fluttershy and her mouse. It was my idea: I went over to her cottage this morning, knocked on her door, eventually got to talk to her, asked if she wanted to talk about it with the rest of her friends, see if we couldn’t help comfort her through this. It’s the sort of thing we’re supposed to do, I think; if somepony’s having a hard time, it’s the job of their friends to help bring them back up.

I said “eventually” because I had to deal with that pompous butthole at the door before I finally got to talk to Fluttershy. It’s amazing how much sarcastic deflection it’s possible to pack into one oversized mishmash of body parts, but needless to say I spent at least ten minutes trying to talk my way inside before I was forced to be as blunt about it as possible. When, of course, he pointed out that she was helping set up butterfly feeders out back.

Can’t believe he basically forced me to say exactly what happened to her and what I wanted to talk with her about and encourage her to do before I got past. I thought I was tactless two days ago, but given that I guess he’s trying to make tact deader than discotheques, then whatever. Next time I see him, I’m going to have to remind myself to tell him that he looks awful ~~and that I bet he probably had to wear a paper bag over his head when they~~ yeah, remember that whole two days ago thing? I’m not finishing that sentence. I’ll think of some more creative insult, something really cutting and painful.

~~How’s about “you betrayed your best friend and you don’t deserve the trust placed in you”?~~

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no
no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no
no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no

I’m awful. Screw this, I’m out. Bye.

-Rainbow Dash

//////////////////////////////////////

38

I will never do that ever again. You don’t need to know what that actually is. And given that I’ll never do it again, you won’t be able to find out. But I’ll never do it again.

See? Didn’t I hint at this earlier? Damaged goods. You really should write to me again; say that you just want to talk to me like normal ponies, don’t want any of this mystery-dancing-potential-crush stuff. Or tell it through twilight or somepony, I don’t care. Because I think you’re trying to do that thing where your silence is an affirmation ~~which is a TERRIBLE philosophy~~ and you really shouldn’t be pursuing that.

But you’re making a mistake. Crush on someone else. If I haven’t made it clear, Love and me are not going to work out. And either that’s going to hurt you when you finally figure it out, or I’m going to hurt myself over this whole debacle. ~~Not like what you’re thinking, though~~ I don’t know what you’re thinking but ~~not like that~~ whatever.

Anyways – I got off track yesterday. Long story short, Fluttershy got up and said it in front of everypony. Didn’t try to downplay what had happened, or offer an explanation; just said it, then stood there as if awaiting judgment.

Pinkie Pie was the first to give her a hug. Didn’t bother to say anything; just trotted right up and threw her forelegs over her. And then it was Rarity, then AJ, then Twilight. Discord and I stood off to the side, not saying anything, not making eye contact with each other. I think there was this unspoken recognition of the situation, a clandestine agreement to not say anything. But I can’t know for sure, because – remember? – not saying anything. I’m running on inference here, or maybe wishful thinking. But it’s the sort of inference I want to have, the sort of conclusion I’d like to bring this to, because I want to believe in tact and meaning and a recognition of solace that matters.

I gave her my hug already. He had, too. But I don’t know anything about his hug, about his comfort. I never said anything. Did he speak volumes? Was that the right thing to have done?

Funny; I’m only tongue-tied when I’m trying to say write something, looking in retrospect. Back when I was thinking clearly and when my silence would have been justified – I didn’t have any reason or explanation. It just was.

Is this what thinking does to me? Is it unhealthy to dwell too long on my thoughts? Does this thing happen to everypony?

I’m starting to worry if this funk I’ve been in isn’t just a “now” sort of thing, but something I’ve had all along. It’s like that dude with the butterfly – was I happy all along and slipping into sadness when I thought too much about things, or have I been sad all along, and distracting myself to try and be happy?

If that was me, in front of everypony else, would I get a hug? I doubt it. Celestia only knows I don’t deserve it. But I guess that’s okay. Same as it’s ever been. Maybe I just need to get my mind off of things. Fly a bit. Get back to the way things were. It couldn’t hurt, anyway.

Buzzing off,

-Rainbow Dash

/////////////////////////////////////////

39

Didn’t really fly so much today as just climb up to a really high point in the sky and just hang there for a few hours.

When the sky is the color of me, I like to pretend I can dissolve into it. Just fade into blue – one with the sky, over the earth, everypony and nopony at all. There’s something liberating about a daydream where you don’t have to close your eyes to believe in it, you can just look up and see. I didn’t slow down all that much when I was squirt’s age, but back when I was at the weather factory, I used to do it off of my shifts – just part of the endless blue, warm and floaty and free.

Maybe it’s the freedom that made me fall in love with it. Y’know, because when there’s nothing to do but push this and tilt that and measure such and such, you tend to want to find something good outside of what you’re doing. Oh, sure, I could fly, but flying didn’t buy food. So when I had to be doing what I could to get food, I’d kind of drift off into that little daydream – make it better.

Oh, and naps. Hey, I got the job done in the requested time, there’s no reason I *wouldn’t* be allowed to take them. But that’s literal dreaming, isn’t it?

Still – I don’t do it much anymore. Not a whole lot of point: I’m free, now. Being an element of harmony means that, besides the things that I have to do, that I can do anything.

Kind of a paradox, isn’t it?

But things have definitely been better for me over the past few years. That pretending thing, I haven’t done it so much – at least, I had to jog my memory to remember it. Not like it’s the sort of thing that comes to my mind every time when I’m trying to describe myself to others: “oh, hey, I space out when I stare at the sky, isn’t that funny, ha ha ha ha ha?” eeeeeeeyahno.

Plus, between the autographs and the fan clubs and the royal business and – aw, heck, for the most part the just-plain-hanging-out-with-my-friends – I haven’t really been idle all that much. At least, when idleness was tangible like that.

Just another thing that came up, I guess. Sort of like spending time inside – didn’t used to do that so often, either. But here’s the letter, here I am, here you are.

If you make me fat and lazy, I’m gonna hate you for it.

But yeah. Gonna see if I can kind of… well, I was gonna help Scootaloo practice some of those switch-method-indy-trick things that she wanted help with, so between that and dinner with everypony else I probably won’t be out of stuff to do until it’s dark. And I think Pinkie Pie wanted us to read off ghost stories to each other, or something? So that’ll be some of the night, too, since I’m guessing that either snacks or some kind of epic Applejack-Rarity bickering is going to happen.

But maybe I’ll think about it before I go to bed. Literal dreaming isn’t actually daydreaming, I know, but it should be nice. Especially given how writing to you is starting to make me feel kind of sad.

But hey – you should give it a try too, okay? The staring-at-the-sky thing. Imagine that you can see me out there. Watching you. Happy- y’know? Just super comforting and all of that. I checked with Applejack – the Midnight Sun flowers are almost ready to be plucked, and it can’t be much more than a week before the nice weather we’ve had is going to come to an end and we’ll probably get a bunch of rain.

I’ll be waiting, somewhere close to the sun.

Warm Thoughts,

-Rainbow Dash.

Letters #40-42

40

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god

Hooves shaking as I write this. ~~Fump~~fumbling around with lamp light and pens and

didn’t spill ink

gonna not gonna spill ink everywhere. Do that much at least.

@20

I can’t stop my hooves from shaking

I mean, I just did, I’m trying, I promise. It’s hard for me to calm down. It’s

god

@10

Okay.

I dreamed last night that I was floating in the sky. Exactly like I was telling you about yesterday. Blue, everywhere. Calm. Peace.

And then I realized I was being watched. Like, you know that sensation you get when somepony’s eyes are on the back of your neck? That. Except it was everywhere. EVERYWHERE. I was being stared at all over at once and ~~I don’t even have~~

~~like I said~~

There isn’t anything more to say. But it wasn’t like I was floating anymore – it was like I was pinned up there, like some kind of butterfly smeared between blue above and green below.

And then I started feeling happy, but not happy like actual happiness, but happy like deliberately-being-drugged-or-something-forced-to-be-happy. Like this massive surge of pleasure just started jolting through me, and I think I must have started twitching in my sleep because tank isn’t supposed to be awake this early and he looks really concerned and how early is it anyway

THREE THIRTY?

No idea why he nipped the blanket off of his cage. He’s usually better behaved than that. Unless he was worried about me?

I love that turtle so much. He’s loyal. He cares. He cares so much.

Right, Tank. Did I ever tell you his history? I got him when I was looking for a pet. Fluttershy helped with that. Long story short, I held a contest to see which pet was the best possible choice. Blah, blah, blah, he fit none of the categories but still won because he did something amazing, that something amazing being saving my life. Or at least, saving me from having to gnaw my own wing off.

~~I should tell that to A.K. Yearling, maybe she’ll have something to say about it or think about for her next novel~~

No, don’t cross that off, Rainbow Dash. Think about other things. Thinking about other things is good. Yes.

Tank.

Tank is so unendingly endearingly friendly to me that I can’t imagine not liking him. He’s patient to the point that I can’t imagine him ever getting tired of me, no matter how awesome or awful things are going for me right now. He’s humble, he knows the virtue of being quite at the right points of time, he’s completely cute, and he bounces back from everything. I swear that I can’t tell what his shell’s made of, because my best guess would probably be iron, and it’s certainly not wimpy-lame-whatever-reptiles-have.

Please be like him. Please be understanding enough to deal with all my weirdness. Please.

This dream. So I was up there, I was stuck up in the sky, being watched all over and I swear that I couldn’t see what was staring at me, but I thought it was this monster beneath me that I couldn’t see. You know, like one of those movies? The second you acknowledge that it’s behind you, it reaches up with its jaws and – snap? So you have to keep pretending, or you’re forced to keep pretending that it’s not there, knowing all the time it is and that your composure is going to break and -

And it was like that, my nerves screaming in unreasonable joy and my body rock stiff, and it should have been wonderful but it was too wonderful and there was no way it was my dream at all-

And then the sun cracked in half, spreading apart like an eye opening wide, and

and then I woke up.

Give me a bit.

@5

Okay, I know that doesn’t actually sound scary. Shouldn’t sound scary. It’s…

I was helpless. I was a toy, a thing at the mercy of my dream. I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t see anything behind me, blinded by what was ahead.

~~I have this thing about being helpless~~

okay, worse than that. Being snared up is awful, but I woke up and I was so scared and I was trying to figure out why and I get bad dreams sometimes and I usually get the heebie-jeebies out after a few minutes or so.

But.

This whole dream started because I talked about it. With you. Because I’ve been talking about it with you. Because I’ve been talking about things at all.

I don’t know if this is some kind of curse or if this is my subconscious trying to tell me things or if it’s just guilt or I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT but

but I’m not safe in my dreams anymore.

If I start dreaming like that, what happens if I keep dreaming about it?

Is there any way that I can make it stop?

I’m not going back to sleep. Not tonight. There ought to be a Donut Joe’s still open; I’m gonna get a donut and some joe. Then I’m gonna take a walk. As in, a walk-walk; I don’t feel like flying right now.

I’ll put down some more stuff here later.

@whenever

Think it’s about…noon? Can’t tell. Don’t want to look at a clock because I’ve got a headache. Clock is close to the sunlight. Sunlight gives me a headache. Sunny day. Clear skies. Perfect flight weather. Don’t care.

I’m eventually going to fall asleep, but I’m not giving up this easily.

Took tank on a walk. Got comments from just about everypony about the fact that I look tired. Told them I was feeling a bit under the weather. Technically true. Also got a slight stomachache. Think I went overboard on the caffeine. That, or it just wears off faster than I thought. Besides that one time a few weeks ago, don’t normally have coffee. Don’t normally need to.

At least nopony tried to prank or party or lecture me awake. Nice of them. Not taking risks; next time I go out, I’m gonna go somewhere more private. Hopefully just to the time capsule and back.

Am I overreacting? Possibly. Sure doesn’t feel like it.

I’m scared and I don’t want to be this kind of scared. This is a different kind of scared. I’m not sure whether losing all my friends would be better or worse than dying, but it’s certainly comparable. And more tangible. Possibly inevitable.

So.

Writing more. Trying to get mind off things. Probably futile. Don’t care.

Getting together with Gilda was obvious. I’m not sure it was amorous, and I’m pretty sure it was never about bona-fide love. It was expected that, hey, we’d get serious with somepony, so why not each other?

And all things considered, it worked out a lot better than normal. I’ve liked mares more than colts, anyway – have for the longest time. Not that I don’t like dick, because I do, but mares look better, smell – I don’t mean odor, I mean that soft, intimate scent – better, feel better, think better, act better, ARE better. There was never any risk of pregnancy, for obvious reasons: there was never any risk of popularity, because we were both so obviously alpha that the idea of having to do that popularity romance hop-step was utterly foreign; there was never any risk of incompatibility, because between flying and fighting and the whole marefriend thing, our interests were pretty much locked solid anyway.

And I liked that. It felt comfortable; natural. Even happy, I’ll give it that much. I liked having a special somepony, even if it was a casual thing. Gave me something to focus on outside of the academy. I’m not exactly mushy, but having somepony to take solace in is the sort of safety that makes life feel genuinely softer, easier.

And for the longest time, life felt like the most natural, euphoric slide into greatness that was possible. The Equestrian dream.

But you can’t stay in the academy forever. We got older, and time inevitably ruined everything.

My hoof really hurts. I don’t know how much I’ve written today, but it feels like an entire novel. I’m going to shower off again, try to wake up a little more, then I’ll drop off what I’ve written to you. And after that…I don’t know. I don’t think anypony has any plans. Maybe I’ll go and see if AJ needs any help.

But I’m not going back to sleep.

Red-eyed,

-Rainbow Dash

/////////////////////////////////////////////////

41

I think they’re starting to worry about me again. Or suspect me. My friends, I mean. Did you tell them?

Didn’t sleep again last night. Went through those Tell Your Own Tales books again. Snuck down to the library, or whatever you want to call Twilight’s book stash, to return them and pick up some more. She didn’t notice. Did that all night.

Sleeping peacefully. Guiltlessly. Twilight, I mean.

Guess that was kind of a weird thing to say, just…Okay, weirder than that? I got a little lamp, and I actually went around to bedrooms. Just wanted to watch them sleep, I guess. Maybe not a good idea because it make me more tired, but…

Okay, I can’t explain it, honestly. Maybe I was just being creepy, I don’t know. I guess that’s what creepiness is, does. Is a thing? I feel like I’ve been more at a loss of words recently. Lack-of-sleep thing. Probably.

But yeah, just…they had nothing to worry about. Innocent dreams. Twilight: Almost fetal, curled beneath the covers, bangs drifting in front of her eyes, barely moving. Applejack: Mane ruffled, half-twisted beneath misshapen covers, face smooth against a crooked pillow. Pinkie: Snoring loudly, spread like a starfish, comforter dotted with what might have been a couple of candy bar wrappers – I didn’t want to risk getting closer to check. Rarity: lying sarcophageal, mane fixed in rollers, blinders locked with elastic around her eyes.

Fluttershy and Discord, nestled together. Ying and yang, separated and reformed, pressed gently into each other. Discord’s paw around her in an unconscious half-hug, Fluttershy’s forehooves buckled gently against her chest. Still, quiet, unmoving. Intimately close.

Okay, that’s what bothers me, I think. That’s why I went about and did it, the sneaking and the watching. Every time I’ve slept, I’ve slept alone. Didn’t matter if it was in my house, hundreds of feet above the ground, or packed like sardines in fledgling’s hammocks. Fluttershy actually has somepony to sleep with; to drift off with not even inches separating them, and to wake the next day with the gentle ruffle of coat against her chest. Everypony else, they…they go to sleep with themselves, and when they wake in the morning it’s refreshing and calm and happy, full of the implicit knowledge that they’ll have someone to talk to the next day, that when they sleep it’s only a brief respite until they’re close to their friends again.

And up until yesterday or so, that was me. I mean, for the past four years, that was me. But everything else before that, I was alone. Even when I was with Gilda, I was alone. There’s a difference between friends, lowercase, and Friends, uppercase. If you don’t have the latter, I mean…I’m not going to say that you can’t go through with life, just that it feels much less…

…I don’t know. Maybe this is why marefriends and coltfriends are a thing. Needing to feel needed?

Is that why your started writing to me? Is this why Twilight thought it would be a good idea to encourage this for me?

Or, I mean, working on the other hypothesis, did she think that I needed to feel needed? Where would she have gotten that idea from?

And why are all these thoughts swirling around my head in a snarl of senseless and unverified hypothesis and leaving me wishing that everything was simpler, actually simpler, and that I wish I had never started this whole stupid idea in the first place

so.

I need to stop thinking about sleep. It’s making me tired. And if that whole dream was based on some sort of psychosomatic psyche trauma yadda yadda yadda, then I might as well just vomit out my memories.

Hey, you know sea cucumbers vomit out their stomachs as a defense mechanism, right? The more you know. You think I do that with memories? Is that normal? I mean I’m pretty sure it isn’t. Then again, I’ve sworn off sleep and no doubt I’m way crazier than I was when this whole thing started off, so.

…Last year at the academy. End of the year. Career opportunities and recruitment and blah blah blah. Wonderbolts trainee camp was there. Only thing that mattered. I was a shoe-in.

Mental and physical part of the examination. Physical was easy; standard flight exercises plus a little more. I was the ace; a shoe-in. Mental was memorization of facts, tests. Details undisclosed. Shouldn’t have been hard, right? Either memory or policy or something else insubstantial or Wonderbolts-centric. I wasn’t an academic, but acing it should have been easy.

Didn’t study. Massive mistake.

Mental portion was tactical simulations. Trigonometric functions. Distance and velocity calculations. Pattern formation. Mathematics.

Not sure why it was necessary. Maybe to weed out the mentally unwilling? The lazy, the non-studious, the undisciplined? Ponies like me?

Failed, of course. You need to pass both tests just to get into the drawing pool of cadets. I came close to the bottom of the mental testing pack. Didn’t apply to any other job opportunity seminar; didn’t think it was necessary. Went back, looking for stuff less cool but still somewhat cool, all of it was taken.

Only the weather factory was hiring, but it’s always hiring. Figured that was the best I could do.

Gilda disagreed.

Said she wanted me to come with her post-graduation. Say I could get work with her family, whatever that meant. Said that there wasn’t anything that dweeby ponies had to offer the griffon kingdoms, anyway, and now that it was safe for her to come back…

I didn’t ask why she was in trouble. I probably should have. I probably should have done anything but rankled at the idea that “dweeby ponies don’t have anything to offer.” I probably shouldn’t have been as hung up on the Wonderbolts as I was.

I probably shouldn’t have swung the desk lamp hard enough at her face that it broke on contact. It wasn’t going to work, honestly. I swear that I can’t tell what her face was made of, because my closest guess would have been iron and not flesh, beak and bone.

My stitches tend to heal pretty quickly; I’m “healthy” that way. I still got so much of my face messed up that it’s a minor miracle that I’m not hideously deformed. Okay, make that a major miracle.

But then I take that advantage and promptly screw it up. If I was a smarter pony, that would have been the last time I had ever talked to Gilda Griffon.

But, obviously, it wasn’t.

Eight in the morning. Gonna toss this in the bucket and send something else your way later this afternoon. I don’t want to sleep – I really don’t – but I’m starting to get the feeling that I’m not going to have a choice pretty soon. Don’t get me wrong, I feel great right now; wired, awake, powerful. Best I’ve felt in a while.

But it only lasts for so long, doesn’t it?

Waiting the inevitable fall,

-Rainbow Dash

///////////////////////////////////////

42

I’m still going to call this one #42 and not #41 because if I pass out, I’m probably going to be out for a whole day, because this is obviously not an optimal or normal amount of sleep for me.

I forced us to talk – Gilda, I mean, not you

forced us to talk in the hallways after our stitches healed. Stilted conversations that went nowhere. Half-hearted exchanged sentiments, vague pleasantries. We didn’t race each other or spar each other anymore, and that was basically that.

I didn’t exactly become unpopular, but I did just start getting ignored. Ponies far less talented then me went into the flight camp rotation, and everypony knew it. I kicked butt in flight practice, but it didn’t really matter anymore. Came across as vestigial.

I went from the best of the best to a has-been in the space of a freaking day.

Only pony that would actually talk to me was Fluttershy. Then, of all times. Sensed weakness? Wanted to try and return a favor? I didn’t know; didn’t care. Everypony still left her alone, even Gilda, so maybe she was thankful for that. Or maybe she thought that since she was a loser, and since I had just become a loser, that we were allowed to talk to each other.

I’m pretty sure she was trying to console me. In retrospect, I should have beaten her up. It would have gotten the message across, put distance between us, allowed me to let go of flight camp anyway.

Wait. In retrospect, I should have beaten up one of my friends? What the hay am I saying? What’s wrong with me? ~~Besides everything~~

I guess that means I shouldn’t have, because otherwise the elements of harmony would have never been founded because of distancing and friction and Equestria would have been doomed

~~so in some twisted way does that mean~~

What is WRONG WITH ME??????????????

~~This is your fault. Maybe if I hadn’t started talking about this, any of this, maybe if you hadn’t listened or encouraged me to listen, maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe~~

~~everything would have been fine~~

~~screw this. Screw you.~~

I can’t blame this on anypony but myself, can I? You never made me start talking about this. You never made me do the things that I wanted to talk about.

If you have the decency to listen to me, then you were never an awful pony.

But I am.

But I still hate you.

I hate us both.

I’m gonna set this in the bucket and think about what I’ve said for a while. I don’t think I’m calm enough to write anymore.

Not that I’m done.

I think.

But I can’t write to you angry. Not like this.

See you after a breather,

-Rainbow Dash

Letters #43-44

43

They know

They know they know they know they know they know they know

Okay, not about that, but the other thing. I mean, you would think that somepony getting sick, once in a while, wouldn’t be that big of an issue. It was greasy food, anyway, and I really shouldn’t been having it in the first place, and yeah. I mean, for crying out loud, I made it to the bathroom, so I don’t know what the deal is.

Also, I’m getting really, really sick of everypony just popping up out in the middle of wherever I’m trying to walk. I’m starting to get paranoid about doorways, for crying out loud, since it’s like you can’t open a door without somepony trying to talk to you, and I just want to be left alone.

I’m sure I’ll fall asleep eventually. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out against it. My body feels like it’s sagging and my brain feels like I just got spun around in the wonderbolts trainee whirler for, like, hours. But maybe if I put it off long enough, I’ll be too busy being unconscious to actually have any dreams. That’s the hope, anyway. I don’t want to risk that ever again.

Distracted. Sorry. So it’s not one, but two ponies who were waiting to talk to me. Guess who? Here’s a hint: I wasn’t being asked to a party, or to help try on some dresses, or to do…some garden-y things, I don’t know.

“We need to talk,” Applejack said, glaring at me. And I thought, like, what’s her trouble? Was I supposed to move a couple of clouds, or something? So I straight-up asked her what was wrong. And then Twilight gave me this stare like, I don’t know, like I was being some kind of problem or something.

“We just think you might have a problem”, she said. “We want to talk about it.” Yeah, she does. I figured she was trying to warn me about some strain of, I don’t know, Pegasus flu or something, so I asked her about that.

“Hon,” Applejack goes, “The bags under your eyes have bags under ‘em. And I’m pretty sure a hayburger’s never made you sick before. You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“Oh, like you’d know about that,” I say.

“Actually, ah would.” She says, and I start thinking oh crud, because she actually would. Actually both of them probably do, and the way Twilight narrowed her eyes at me pretty much implied she was used to studying for some, like, nerd tests or something, I don’t know.

“Did you have some kind of nightmare?” she asked.

I don’t know if my body tensed up or whatever, but the looks they gave me pretty much confirmed some kind of yes. And so I’m thinking, screw this, but they were blocking my way out of the bathroom so I pretty much couldn’t go anywhere, and I was/am pretty dizzy, so I basically had to listen to Twilight say

“Does this have something to do with your secret special somepony?”,

At which point I’m pretty sure I said something vulgar.

“Dash”, AJ said in that no-nonsense-don’t-you-mess-with-me voice that I absolutely hated/hate, “Talk.”

So I’m like “I don’t need to”, and Twilight goes “I’m pretty sure you do”, and I’m like “If you want me to feel better, shouldn’t you just ground me and make me fall asleep?”, and Twilight goes “I’m not going to force you to do anything”, and I go “Horsesh-“

And then there’s a gasp behind both of them, and Twilight and AJ both turn around, and there’s something yellow and pink behind them. Which is the point where they start talking to each other about Fluttershy and being here and what they were going to ask me, and I swear to Celestia that’s when the room starts spinning around me and I start flapping my wings to steady myself, and I feel like I just barely managed to hang onto the floor, and I close my eyes for just a second and when I open them there she is.

“Dash?” Fluttershy said. “Is there something wrong?”

So I’m pretty sure that when I meant to say “Get out”, I meant it as something tough and cool and indifferent, the way I am and always knew I was until you started distracting me and making me slow down and talk about things and other stuff I should never have been doing ever in the first place. But my eyes still feel rawer, and my cheeks feel stained with wet, so I’m pretty sure I started crying at that point and didn’t realize it.

But then she looked sad, and kind of scared, or maybe insecure, or I don’t even know. But she said that she was sorry, and that she hoped that I was okay, and then she just kind of excused herself. And it was so freaking pitying that when Twilight and AJ looked back at me, they had like, these, these sympaethic syn si sympathetic looks and it was just frustrating and everything else.

And so I faked, or maybe I didn’t fake, I don’t know, but I asked if I could just go to bed, and they actually bought it.

I pretended to fall asleep, but then I just kind of snuck out and sped over here and dropped this off and sped back. I guess I’m under castle arrest now, so I should probably be more careful about writing these. And I guess I’m starting to wonder why I should even do this.

And I guess it’s because I have to tell somepony. And I have to be mad at that somepony, because I was probably always going to be mad at the somepony that I had to tell this too, and I figured that well I might as well tell the one who apparently wanted me to talk to her but never actually wanted to talk back

unless you’re him, or something else, or however that works

So I’m gonna pretend to sleep for a bit, and then I guess I’m going to get something to eat, and then I’m going to lie and start saying bogus stuff when I need to. Because honestly and loyalty aren’t the same thing, and if I have to start lying out of my butt in order to hold things together I will.

Which is, for once in my life, something I’m not accustomed to doing. The lying, I mean. And hopefully not the other one.

Give me a bit,

-Rainbow Dash

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Rainbow Dash is a horrible liar. I don’t reckon she’s used to it, and that’s probably a good thing. It definitely makes my job here a little easier, which is trying to figure out what the hay is going on.

Granted, I don’t know who you are, but I think I’ve got a pretty good guess. I asked Twilight earlier about why she assumed it was some sort of dream that Rainbow Dash had. Turns out Twilight’s a pretty horrible liar, too, but at least she knows when to keep her craw shut about things. Though it’s obviously not Luna – she wouldn’t have the tact to do something this circumspect – which leaves only you.

Either come clean to Rainbow Dash, or leave her alone. I know it’s high-faluting of me to say this, getting all uppity in my position, but you’re letting her drive herself sick. I suppose I should thank you for bein’ a shoulder for Dash to cry on, particularly a shoulder I didn’t know she needed. But she’s driving herself sleepless and sick over this. And she can tell me all she wants about snoozing – I don’t buy that guff one single smidgeon.

I also know that whatever it is she needs to say, she’s obviously not telling you or anypony else. Which means there’s nothing that she can do by herself, or she’d have dealt with it a long time ago. An’ she ain’t gon’ turn to us, ‘cause she knows us too well and doesn’t want us to hate her for…whatever it is.

She’s all but family to us, now. ‘Least to me, anyway. I couldn’t hate her no matter what she did – not just “almost nothin’ “, but nothin’. I just wish she’d learn that. An’ I wish she’d know that ain’t any of us gon’ to seriously judge her for whatever it is that happened.

My writing’s getting’ a bit thick. Sorry. Ah think I’ll just be leaving this as-is.

-Applejack

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I’ve had my suspicious about this sort of thing, but I’m more than afraid to believe that they have become true. I’m referring to that particular brand of extroversion that seems absolutely, insatiably relentless in energy and direction. I, of course, believe that it is certainly possible for any given pony to possess high energy and to seek the company of others, among other traits associated with extroversion. However, I am less inclined to believe that any given individual would be monomaniacal enough to never once consider solace or introspection.

Case A: Pinkie Pie. I believe that you have read my other letters about her, and have talked with me about her peculiar behavior. Then again, I don’t believe that is any particularly big secret that her behavior trends toward irrational and severely despondent (and possibly depressive) when lacking the approval and affection of others, characteristic of chronic generalized codependency.

But I believe Rainbow Dash might fall under a different case, case B: one who uses behavior characteristic of highly extroverted individuals as a diversion. It has not been difficult, as previously demonstrated, to get Rainbow Dash involved in “slower” and less intensely focused activities (such as her rapidly-flourishing love of reading) and attentions (such as the caretaking of her pet, which is demonstrably intimate and caring). But even in these, too, has she shown a particular tendency to throw herself overzealously into her work. I recognize that this singular focus is a trait that I happen to possess, but her interest seems less analytical and more… perhaps “desperate” may be the best word that I have for it, though it is a poor lexographical substitute for what I might have otherwise been able to trawl from my mind.

Regardless, I do not think it would be disingenuous to say that Rainbow Dash WANTS to be fully engaged in her activities, more than automatically slipping into a state of engagement. However, I believe that her attachment to the bearers of the elements of harmony, “us”, is not feigned and similarly “desperate”. She seeks affection and approval, much as Pinkie Pie does, but believes that the medium through which she desires to be lauded is not her actual personality, but her accomplishments. This is even more dangerous... She does not recognize a fundamental need, and more importantly, this is enabling her self-destructive attachment stemming from, what I believe, is very likely to be undisclosed personal trauma.

Certainly, I would be willing to discuss the issue with her, would she be willing to listen. But she is not. Perhaps she has communicated with you, via her letters, the source of her discomfort? If so, that needs immediate disclosure. I believe that if this is the case, she is being “consumed by these memories” (to phrase it unnecessarily poetically, for lack of a better phrase of conveyance), out of a desire to achieve catharsis and develop a deeper emotional bond with one who I have flat-out said is in love with her.

I do not believe these missives are safe. Applejack has grown suspicious of my lack of disclosure about who you are, as I have respected your wish to keep your identity concealed. Since I have not expressly forbidden her from doing so (a request that slipped my mind during our last meeting), however, I believe that she might be watching me, and recover this letter, confirm the recipient, and tell it to Rainbow Dash. But this is beginning to grow unsafe – my communication, and Rainbow Dash’s mental state.

Do something. Say something. Anything. Tell her the truth. Show yourself. I can’t force you to do it, and I won’t go against your wishes, but I’m begging you – please make the necessary leap and actually initiate contact with her.

Regards,

-Twilight Sparkle

/////////////////////////////////////////////

44

Twilight says that she never noticed me, or anypony else, by the tree. Neither did Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy or Pinkie Pie. But I’m absolutely sure that I don’t remember crawling into bed.

I’m writing this from beneath my covers, because I don’t want to get up. I’m tired in just about every part of me that can be tired, but I’m going to remain awake for long enough to finish this.

You.

Had to have been you. Found me beneath the tree, didn’t you? Because that’s the last place I remember being. Carried me back here, must have.

Because the bed still kind of smells a bit like vanilla. Which is not what any of us smells like, and which is not any sort of cleaning product that I know. And I know more than you think I do, because rarity keeps a freaking cocktail bar’s worth of sanitizers in carousel boutique, and she always has to keep the place to whatever her insane definition of “clean” is.

I’m not sure what to make of this.

I’m not sure that I have anything left to say to you. Or anything that I want to say to you. Or anything left to say at all, by this point.

…You smell like vanilla.

I like that scent. Warm. Happy. It smells like sugarcube corner, whenever the cakes or pinkie are baking. I mean, it always smells good over there – I could count, like, ten different smells and ten different reasons why they smell good – but vanilla’s kind of special.

Pinkie told me about this when we were making that ridiculously oversized batch of cupcakes earlier. You add a little bit of vanilla to almost everything – even things that aren’t strictly speaking vanilla recipes. Could be chocolate, could be carrot cake, could be…I don’t know. And even though it doesn’t taste good and doesn’t have the flavor, I guess, that everypony expects – it’s still a happy smell, a smell that tells you what you’re going to have is delicious.

The scent doesn’t blast itself out in every recipe it’s used, but it adds an undercurrent. What word would Twilight use for this?

Demure?

Maybe? Something like that?

Even so – it fades into the background, but it’s warm and happy all the same.

And if you’re silently accepting and welcoming everything I have to say without feeling the need to project yourself, I guess that it fits you.

Thank you for putting me to bed, vanilla.

I’m feeling tired. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.

G’night,

-Rainbow Dash

////////////////////////////////////////////

45

The weather’s somewhat cloudy today, but it’s supposed to hold out for at least a couple of days.

Why am I bringing this up? Well, it’s kind of a long story.

Let’s start back from the point on the last letter. I got back to sleep right after I wrote your letter – not that my body was going to let me have any choice in the matter. I’m going to guess it was more like three…four hours, tops? But it actually felt good.

And I didn’t dream. The dream didn’t recur. If it was something I needed to say, then I guess I said it.

So here I am, relaxed, refreshed, ready to finish up the rest of the day. So I step outside my door and I hear this incredibly loud horn going off. Like, just BWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH – right in my ears.

Magic, of all things. Twilight decided to cast some kind of alarm spell. Jerk.

Not that I was trying to sneak outside or anything like that, but I couldn’t even get down a hallway before everypony was crowding around me. And you know, I was half-expecting some kind of game or some kind of joke, except that everypony looked completely dead serious.

Twilight starts up first. We’ve been worried sick about you, she says. You’ve looked tired a lot of the time, she says. You’ve hardly talked to anypony, she says. You haven’t been yourself, she says.

Okay, irony: that was the very first thing I was worried about, right? Not being myself as I grew older? So she’s exaggerating, I told her

Then Applejack gives me this look. And it’s one of those don’t-make-me-choose-between-honoring-your-wishes-and-keeping-this-friendship-together-because-you’re-not-going-to-like-my-choice looks.

So what am I supposed to do? I tell them that I’ve had to think about things. Technically true. The expressions on their faces suggested they weren’t buying it.

What am I supposed to say, is what I tell them. What could I say that would actually make them be happy and leave me alone about this.

The truth, is what Twilight Sparkle says.

So I give it to her.

I tell her that there are parts of my life that I don’t feel comfortable with sharing. I tell her that, heck, I doubt any of you were saints when you were fillies, either. I tell her that I’ve started thinking about that when I started writing again, and I’ve been finding it harder and harder to stop thinking about it. I tell her that I’m trying to reconcile myself with myself for the sake of a secret admirer, if nothing else, because I’ve been trying really, really hard to be a better Pegasus, and when I stopped flying long enough to gather my thoughts I realized I haven’t been trying nearly hard enough.

And then Applejack asks me if I want to talk about it. And I tell her no.

And then Rarity asks why. And I tell her no.

And then Pinkie starts to say something, but I tell her no.

And then Twilight says okay.

Which I guess was the answer that she had given me earlier, but it still took me by surprise today. I was half expecting her to try and tell me that there would be no more secrets and no more lies, and everything was going to fall apart, because there was no way that they were going to know anything.

But okay, is what she says. If you can’t tell everypony, she says, you can tell one. It’s not healthy to keep whatever it is inside of you, she says. Somepony should know, she says. It doesn’t have to be now, she says. It could be much later, she says.

And why, is what I say.

Because doesn’t it hurt, she says. Keeping it in, is what she means.

I can’t stop myself from thinking “every time”.

But okay is what I say. Who, is what I ask. And she doesn’t say anything. But I think that’s okay, because she knows the answer and I know the answer and trying to pretend that neither of us knows is more than a bit silly.

This will be my last letter.

You’re brave enough to pick up my letters, much less carry me to bed when I was flat-out unconscious. I’ve been brave enough to, day after day, drop these dutiful little slips of memory fragments and partial confessions for you.

We’re both ready, aren’t we? All we need is a little nudge. And if we don’t start talking to each other – I mean, ACTUALLY start talking to each other – then we’re never going to find out if we could actually be friends or…

…you know.

Tomorrow. Noon. Same place as always. I’ll wait as long as I feel like, and if you’re not there for me, then…

…have a nice life, I guess.

But one way or another, I need to start moving on.

-Rainbow Dash

Cover the Roots

Rainbow Dash shivered and crossed her forelegs in front of her chest. Her wings flapped reflexively, once – twice – as if beating back the cold. She might as well have tried to push it backwards with her hooves.

It was not supposed to be this cold. Not in September. Ponyville was always such a temperate place; there were exceptions, now and then, but at this time of year it should have still felt like an endless summer.

This was a heck of an exception.

A bead of water dripped onto her nose. Rainbow Dash flicked her head to the side, then reached up to squeeze her mane. Wet – what part of her wasn’t? Stupid rain.

At least the tree above where she buried her capsule offered a little bit of protection from the rain. Assuming, of course, that she didn’t electrocute herself first. All her familiarity with cloudkicking and stormbrewing and the general mechanics of lightning weren’t going to do her any good if she made the rookie mistake of standing underneath a tree in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Where *is* she?” Rainbow dash muttered darkly, pulling her hoof over her body again and continuing to shiver. She, of course, had timed herself pretty much to the clock – well, she had left with two minutes to spare, but it took her how long to fly over to the Time Capsule spot? Thirty seconds?

There was no way that she was late. But Vanilla, or Tyke, or whoever it was…

How long had it been? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Twenty? Thirty? How much longer was she going to have to wait?

“This is stupid”, Rainbow dash said to herself, staring dejectedly at what normally was a divot in the ground ahead of her, now a steadily swelling puddle of rainwater.

Was she wrong? Was the mystery pony not going to show up after all?

How long would she have to wait in order to find out?

How long was she going to wait – now, that was the actual question. As much as anything else, she was hunched under shelter in the middle of the freezing rain because she wanted this fantasy to be true. Every huff of breath that, by any means, should have condensed in the air like midwinter mist – it was in expectation of fulfilling her mystery, finding what could be the beginning of solace.

The cold would make a warm hug feel that much better. Or a hoofshake, or whatever. Assuming, of course…

But if she wanted this fantasy – what, specifically, did she want? What was she hoping “Vanilla” would be? What did she NEED vanilla to be?

Punctual? It was just the bitterness of the cold talking. Still, reliability - that was somewhere between the two. Maybe punctuality would be nice to count on, but a stabilizing influence in this little mixed-up melodramatic horror show that she had unearthed in her life? That was half of what she was going for.

Some kind of honest face, then. Normal-looking. Not ostentatious. Not personality-less, but not somepony whose life so consumed them that they didn’t need her. But if they had been reading her letters in the first place…

Rainbow Dash smiled. So that was probably true, then. She was just a little bit late. That was all. Probably just the rain.

Shy, though. That was also a given. Probably not what she wanted, but maybe if she was just…timid? That would be better. Not terminally afraid of life, but just needing a little nudge to see things. And there were definitely worse ponies to ask about life then rainbow dash, really.

So that was probably also true. Was there anything else that was a given?

Strong. Or magically talented. Either way, enough so to carry her back, like, a mile or so without being seen. Possibly a Pegasus, then, if not a unicorn? An earth pony might be able to carry her, but they’d have to be really sneaky to dodge through afternoon crowds without being noticed. So not as cool as her, then, but sort of approaching that level. Good. Too big of a power gap would -

“Ugh. Bravado”, Rainbow Dash chastised herself. There wasn’t going to be any need for her to do that around the mystery pony. Though if mystery pony had put up with hers, then she could probably add “humble” to that list, which was also a good thing.

But that was all she knew. Now, as for what she needed…

Understanding. Comprehension. The difference between passively listening to her and understanding what she was really saying, what she needed to do next. Mind-reading? Naw. More like…Empathy? It’d have to do. But yes, that was absolutely necessary.

Which meant proximity. Closeness. So the ability to handle that, take it naturally.

A cuddler would be nice. Not that she was necessarily good with cuddling, but still. That would be something completely different from Gilda. Different was good.

Rainbow Dash giggled. Well, except for that thing with the tongue. She wouldn’t mind if the mystery pony did that.

A flash, followed by the loud CRACK of nearby thunder, interrupted her reverie. The storm was beginning to get dangerous. A smarter pony would have left a long time ago. Or for that matter, not come at all in the first place – what had she been thinking, making an ultimatum like that without even bothering to check the weather in the first place. Would it really have killed her to spend, like, ten minutes with the weather factory forepony?

Hopefully, it wouldn’t kill her that she didn’t.

“Sensible, Rainbow Dash. Really sensible.” Dash muttered. Yeah, she hoped vanilla was that. Or at least something to counterbalance her own flying-off-the-handle-formerly-sleep-deprived-overthinking-rainbow-dash.

Then again, a sensible pony wouldn’t come out in this weather. Or would she? Risk of electrocution or hypothermia on one hoof, dejection of the object of a crush on the other.

The wind howled louder, sending the rain at an angle to the ground. A sudden spray of rain hit Rainbow Dash in the face, and with a surprised yelp she skittered to the side, wiping water out of her eyes.

Should she even be out here?, Rainbow Dash wondered.

Should *I* even be out here?

What kind of pony would come out in this weather?

And then a horrific suspicion bubbled back to the surface.

What if there isn’t any pony at all?

It’d require some serious lying on Twilight’s part. A heck of a prank, if a particularly mean-spirited one. She’d have to be confiscating all of the notes, feigning smugness, keeping it from Applejack – which, honestly, wouldn’t be easy. But possible? Definitely possible. Improbable, but possible.

But then, what’s the point?

Thunder boomed, underscoring the word point with the sort of dramatic poignancy that might have been better appreciated by somepony less wet and significantly less cold. Certain eggheads, Rainbow Dash thought.

What had changed about her, if anything?

Rainbow Dash snickered. Well, okay, that was easy – way, way too much, both over the last four years and over the last month and a half. But what was important? Was there something to be learned from this? Some sort of lesson? Never mind that if the whole thing was a ruse, she was going to have a nice, hot shower, and then a very vigorous introduction between her forehoof and Twilight’s face. But…

“I get that there’s probably a point, but I don’t know what it is. That I can’t escape my fears? That inactivity brings pain? That life sucks?”

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Well, okay. Maybe not the last one.” Talking to herself. She was talking to herself. Thinking about talking to herself. Thinking about thinking about…

Nope. Nipping that train of thought in the bud, she decided.

But there was no way to know whether or not Vanilla was going to show up. And there was no way to know if Vanilla existed at all. Or whether staying would be fruitless, or if walking away would miss one last chance. In retrospect, the whole “tomorrow or never” sentiment might have been strong, but…

A bolt of lightning fractured the sky into shards with incandescent edges. Unbidden but not irrationally, the word “danger” popped into her head. If she was going to leave, it probably would be for the best if she left soon.

So what did she have to gain? And what did she have to lose?

If she stayed, and Vanilla really existed, then…uncertainty. Probably good uncertainly, but there was no way to know what she was getting into. Of course, she could always turn her (him)? Down in short order, but what if she didn’t immediately refuse? It was likely to be good. For the best.

So why was she thinking about leaving?

Resolve. Conviction. Her secrets, likely, would be buried like a box in mud, taken with her to the grave. But she’d already known that part of her life – twice. If nothing else, she had enabled herself to talk about things nopony should have heard, ever.

So left with nothing, in other words? There had to be some reason it seemed tempting to leave right now, rain aside.

Stay for love. Stay for a new life. Stay for what could be the first steps to a new rainbow dash, just like before. Leave to…

Leave to never change. Leave to keep being who I was, fighting for the same goals, finally succeeding without distraction or the hesitation of heartbreak.

A friend, or a dream? Love or glory? Fulfillment, or…fulfillment?

It was true, though. She could be happy without somepony else, really. She wanted this, of course – wanted it more badly then she would have assumed, a bone-ache and the raising of gooseflesh, attraction magnetic to the unknown.

But that was just it: placing hope in the unknown. In a promise that had tempted, teased at resolution, but never brought itself to resolution. A faith where a miracle was promised, hinted at even, but ultimately a godless faith. But…

“But there will always be others.” Rainbow Dash whispered to herself.

And the revelation lit up the back of her mind like a firework. She *didn’t* need this. If she really wanted love, she could do it the way everypony else did – making an effort and actually asking other ponies her own freaking self. Reliable, honest, timid, talented, empathetic, close, sensible, a cuddler. Tall order, honestly, but not impossible. And it didn’t have to be a perfect find, either, not the first time.

The issue was taking a step for the first time. Placing trust in the unknown. Of COURSE she wasn’t going to show up, all along. It was a completely crummy, awful test for anypony to pull on her, and she’d find a way to get revenge, but it certainly was useful. Stepping away now was no different from staying here, rain aside; all she was doing was not punishing herself for the sake of attachment.

“Just gotta be brave.” Rainbow Dash whispered. Her wings flared, flapped as she stretched, limb by limb. She blinks her eyes, hard, expression furrowing into resolve as she stepped one slightly shaking hoof out into the rain.

“Isn’t this rather an odd day to be outside, Rainbow Dash?”

The bottom fell out of Rainbow Dash’s stomach. With a sharp gasp of surprise and trepidation, Rainbow Dash turned her head to the terrifyingly familiar voice.

Princess Celestia stood no more than ten feet away from the tree. A large, pastel-colored umbrella hovered over her head, shielding her from the pouring rain. Her head was cocked slightly to the side as she stared at Rainbow Dash with quizzical, strangely patronizing mirth.

“I, uh – yeah! Yes it is, uh, Princess Celestia. Aheh.”

“It is quite all right”, Celestia giggled. “Should I assume there is some sort of rational explanation for this?”

“Uh…I guess you could say that, yeah.” Rainbow Dash blinked. “What about you?”

“I quite enjoy a stroll in the rain, from time to time. The world looks rather different under cloud cover. Subdued. Muted. Quieter.”

Lightning exploded in the sky like a flashbulb, and was immediately succeeded by the roaring of thunder.

“Mostly, anyway.” Celestia chuckled. “If nothing else, I hardly run into anypony else during these walks.”

“So you like being alone?”

“I value the company of others, of course. *But* there are times when one seeks to be alone with her thoughts.”

She knows, Rainbow Dash realized. The most logical explanation was, of course, that Twilight told her. Reasonable. Upsetting, but livable. Compared to the theoretical alternative, preferred, even.

“Aheh. I know what you mean, um. I-I mean, I’ve been reading more over the past, um, month, and spending more time with Tank, just…by myself, right? So there’s that whole thing, yeah.”

Princess Celestia hovered the umbrella a little closer to Rainbow Dash, cocking it at an inviting angle. It was an invitation there was no point in refusing; demi-pavilion that it was, it would almost certainly be dryer than the tree.

“Oh? And what do you enjoy reading?” The princess followed her statement with a subtle tilt of her head, almost like a brief wave, the invitation subtle but also unmistakable.

“Daring-Do novels. Excitement is awesome. Horror stories, especially ghost stories. Definitely intense, um, especially if you’re telling it to ponies, y’know, scared of that sort of thing. Which isn’t me. Um.” Every hoof-step towards Celestia felt ponderous, as if time had extended painfully in front of her. A sudden shift in the wind sent another spray of cold rainwater into Rainbow Dash’s face, soaking her mane once more.

“Anything else?”

“Tell-your-own-tales books. Especially, um, big ones, like When the Parasprites Cry, except I’m not sure whether or not that counts. It’s like, y’know, that there’s so much on the line when you’re the main character, and all. But…”

Rainbow Dash was almost certain that her body was moving as slow as it possibly could, consciously or not. The dry shelter of the parasol was only a few feet away, now, but the walk felt like an eternity, and rainwater soaked every inch of her that slipped out from underneath the tree.

“But?”

“But if you make a mistake, you can always go back and try again, until you get it right.

“Do you dislike making mistakes, Rainbow Dash?”

“Doesn’t everypony?” Dash responded, shivering. The tip of her snout poked out under the umbrella.

“I find that my mistakes teach me better than anything else. I’ve learned rather a lot, in that respect.” Celestia chuckled. “When one lives forever, one has to come to terms with one’s mistakes. I’ve really got no choice to accept them for what they were and try to not repeat them.”

“So you don’t regret them?”

“I regret them always. Pride almost led to the overthrowing of my kingdom. Willing ignorance kept me from noticing my sister’s plight until she metamorphosed into Nightmare Moon. Placing trust in a former enemy without seeking to reconcile with him almost led to the destruction of all life in Equestria and the rise of lord Tirek. Fatal mistakes, stupid mistakes, thoughtless and heedless mistakes that might have cost those I loved dearly. But I’ve learned. I’ve learned to take my most precious student more seriously, to take care of my sister’s emotions, and to reconcile with…him.” Princess Celestia concluded, wincing.

“Is that why he’s less of a troublemaking jerk these days?”

Celestia sighed. “Bearing witness to teatime with him and Fluttershy is a small sacrifice to be made for encouraging his better half. Not an insignificant one, though. His table manners are, frankly, atrocious.”

“I figured.” Gooseflesh began to prickle over Rainbow Dash’s legs as she stepped fully under the umbrella. “I guess mine probably aren’t that better, though.”

“Indeed?” Celestia mused, a playful smile flitting across her face.

“Well…and I guess I don’t eat all that well, either. I guess I can’t really imagine that I’d be cut out for the whole Princess lifestyle, or the whole Living in a Castle lifestyle, either”.

“We tend to surprise ourselves in regards to our capabilities and preferences, Rainbow Dash. Didn’t you say that you discovered a love of reading, recently?” Princess Celestia began to walk forward, and with a lurch Rainbow Dash trotted alongside her, doing her best to catch up with the princess’ long stride.

“Well, yeah, but I mean…”

“And wouldn’t you have assumed that Discord was incapable of redemption, merely months ago?”

“I mean…” Rainbow Dash faltered. “But what if I don’t want to change?”

“Don’t you?”

“I want to get better. That kind of change is fine. But I don’t want to get mixed up any more from the pony that I am. I did a lot of thinking over…I guess you could say a month, or a month and a half, I don’t know. But I felt like the more I thought about things, the less happy I was. And I want to move on from that.”

“Thinking, or not being happy?” Celestia chuckled

“Both.”

The dirt beneath her hooves squelched more firmly, steadily. It wasn’t a steep incline, as far as hills went, but it wasn’t in the direction of ponyville. She had seen the topography of the town enough times to know that.

“But what about your love of reading? Isn’t that a change for the better?”

“I mean, I guess so, but…”

“Is it not that you don’t want to change, but that you’re scared of change?”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes, Rainbow Dash. Looking back may often appear to be as painful and haunting as looking forward. But while the past can lead to a painful future, it ultimately can not hurt us anymore than it already has. It should be accepted, embraced, learned from. And so long as you have the support of your friends, there is nothing – past or future – that cannot inevitably be overcome.”

There was something about Princess Celestia’s words, her tone, her stride and direction; it was uncanny, jarring in a nonviolent way, duplicitous, bifurcated. The most logical explanation was, of course, that Twilight told her. Reasonable. But, more and more, it was beginning to feel like – sound like – the wrong explanation. Learn from this, Rainbow Dash thought to herself. Accept things as they were. Move on. Don’t be beholden to a figment, an ideal, you can be stronger than-

Abruptly, a shiver raced through her spine. Gooseflesh rose over her legs, trying in vain to ward off the chill of the rain that had soaked through her coat, lingered on her skin.

“Cold?” Princess Celestia asked, slowing to a stop.

“…Yes?” Rainbow Dash replied. She knows. She knows about the letters, she knows about the letters, Twilight Sparkle knew about the letters and Princess Celestia knows about the letters because…

The princess shifted, turning to face Rainbow Dash, head craning down towards Rainbow dash’s face as she stepped forward, bodies almost touching. Rainbow Dash shivered, took a breath, inhaled as slowly and as steadily as she could.

“You smell like vanilla”, Rainbow Dash whispered.

“Yes”, Princess Celestia replied, something horrifyingly recognizable shimmering in her eyes, her smile, the sound of her breathing.

“No.” Rainbow Dash whispered, closing her eyes.

“Yes”, Celestia whispered into her ear.

And then her lips were gently touching Rainbow Dash’s: soft, warm, a delicate flutter of contact, tracing her lower lip, then her upper lip, pressed against her mouth, held for a second that lapsed into eternity, and with a thunk the umbrella fell away from them, and her closed eyes saw nothing and her body felt only the wind and the kiss and the rain.

Author's Note

New Chapter; part 1.5 of the story, if you're looking for some closure.