The Zebra's Verse

by Between Lines

Rating: everyone
Tags: Zecora, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life
Length: 1526

Twilight asks Zecora why she rhymes.

Twilight asks Zecora why she rhymes.

Published 2015-05-27 17:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-05-27 17:50:02 UTC

A Story

Zecora smiled softly, her great iron cauldron bubbling before her. Taking a sniff of the swirling yellow fumes, she rubbed her nose and trotted over to her shelves. Upon them rows and rows of dried plants sat bottled and ground, awaiting her selection. She plucked a bottle of brightest crimson, and carefully sprinkled a few dashes into the boiling mixture.

At that moment, a knock at the door caused her to jump and drop the entire bottle within.

“Celestia spear me with her horn.” She muttered under her breath, before putting on a smile and answering the door. “Twilight, my friend, what brings you this morn?”

“Oh, hello Zecora! I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Twilight glanced in curiously, unable to miss the roiling mess within the cauldron.

“Nothing that needs my attention anymore.” Zecora sighed, waving Twilight inside as she grabbed a potholder to help handle the cauldron. “Tell me, what brings you today to my door?”

“Oh, well, alright.” Twilight gave a sniff of the cauldron, wincing as its now rancid stench stung her nose. “I actually had some questions about your homeland.”

“Oh, Baltimare? A curious query. Well, if you’ve questions, you needn’t tarry.” Zecora busied herself emptying out the cauldron outside, using the opportunity to conceal her smirk.

“B-Baltimare?” Twilight floundered, glancing around as though seeking a book to consult. “I thought… I mean…”

“That I was a native of zebra soil?” Zecora chuckled as she returned, stashing the cauldron and retrieving a teapot. “That in savannahs I walked and daily did toil?”

“Well, um, yes, but…” Twilight continued to flush crimson, her eyes settling around her hooves. “I guess that was kind of presumptuous of me.”

“Perhaps it was, but you needn’t fret. Your intuition isn’t wrong yet.” She smiled as Twilight stared on in confusion, watching as she puzzled it out.

“Wait, you mean you’re not from Baltimare?” Twilight tilted her head, scratching at it.

“Indeed I am not, you are correct. Now, why would I lie? What cause do you detect?” She continued to watch as Twilight’s expression became one of intense concentration.

“Because…” Twilight rubbed her chin, her eyes focused somewhere in the infinite distance. A moment later, she popped up in excitement. “Oh! It wasn’t smart of me to assume that you were a foreigner?”

“Yes Twilight, once more we speak of the book and cover. I might have taken offense, were I some other.” Smiling, Zecora stood up and returned to her shelves. “Now, enough about lessons in class. You had a question you were wishing to ask?”

“Oh, yes!” Twilight’s abashment instantly faded, replaced with cheerful enthusiasm. “I was reading up about shamanistic traditions, and well…” She flashed her horn, conjuring a hefty tome out of the ether. “Maybe I’m just consulting the wrong literature, but I can’t find anything about rhyming in them.”

“Oh, that’s no mistake, your book is right. You’ll find no rhymes, try as you might.” As she spoke, her expression grew sad, almost wistful, and she found herself hesitating beside the tea. “My reasons are mine, and mine alone. A method through which I’ve been forced to atone.”

“Atone?” Twilight blanched, immediately banishing her book back to whence it came. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“No, no, it’s quite alright. I suppose somepony would ask, try as I might.” She finally selected a vial off her shelf, sprinkling dark green leaves within a loose tea strainer. “Would you care for some tea? I was planning on kale. If you’re willing to sit, I can tell you the tale.”

“Really? I mean, if I’m not overstepping my bounds, I’d really like to learn more about you.” Twilight glanced towards the door, and almost rose, but found Zecora’s hoof on her withers.

“No, please, you’re welcome to stay. It’s a tale I should tell, if you’ll hear what I say.” She set the tea sieve into the pot, and sat across from Twilight.

“Well, if you want to tell, then of course I’ll listen!” Twilight quickly conjured a notebook into existence, then thought better of it and banished it back. “Sorry.”

“Fear not, my friend, it’s habit, I know. They do die hard, it goes to show.” Nodding solemnly, she took a deep breath. “My tale begins in my home of old. Of which, I admit, I’ve little told. Tis a land of grass and sand and sun. Of much hard work, and not as much fun.” She smiled for a moment, wistful. “Still, it was home, and what I know is this: for good or for bad, it’s a place that I miss.”

Zecora paused to pour them both tea, Twilight still listening intently.

“As a filly I was no shaman’s choice. I was brash and sly, but worst of all was my voice. My tongue was pure silver, and sharp as a blade. By the time I was a mare, oh the enemies I’d made.”

“Really? I mean…” Twilight floundered for a moment. “That doesn’t seem anything like you.”

“Is that so? Am I not clever and smart? Were I to try, would my jabs not all smart?” Leaving Twilight to mull that over, she stood to fetch cups for them both, filling each with pale green brew.

“Yes, I suppose I could see that. But it just seems so unlike you. You’re probably one of the kindest ponies I know.” Twilight carefully accepted her cup, and slowly took a sip.

“Indeed that is true, for the lessons I’ve learned. My kindness is not a gift, but something I’ve earned.” She took a sip of her own, then continued. “As I was saying, I was a terrible fiend. My foes found themselves ever shamed and demeaned. Even the chieftain had fear of my wit, for my words were my arrows, and my mark I would hit. I cared not for matters of justice and fair play, only for the next fool to get in my way.” She grew silent, but just as Twilight began to move, she resumed. “One day, when I was seeking out my next prey, it happened a shaman crossed over my way. I heckled her dress, bemoaned her gait, I even, for shame, criticized her weight.” Oddly, Zecora began to smile. “But for my sleights, she did not care. To her they were nothing but so much hot air. Of course her indifference filled me with hate, and my endless jabbing I refused to abate. An entire week I spent hurtling hurts, even spending nights perched outside of her yurt. When my voice had grown hoarse, and yet still I railed, she turned to me, her smile showing I’d failed. She said, ‘Child, can’t you see, you’re wasting your time, perhaps you’d learn better speaking in rhyme.’”

“So, you took her advice?” Twilight hazarded.

“Took, not so much, but received, most yes, for it seems she placed me under quite a cruel jest. When next I opened my mouth to talk, I found I could do naught but squawk. After some dismay, I discovered in time, that I could only speak if my words were in rhyme.” Zecora’s expression grew pained. “It was a harrowing lesson, and one I learned fast. Robbed of free speech, my foes fear soon passed. Now they could torment me with fearless abandon, while I could barely mutter how much that I damned them.”

“That’s horrible!” Twilight cried. “How could she just curse someone like that!”

“Were you not listening? It was brought on myself. If not for her, I’d live yet in ill health. Laid low at last, I finally had to consider, the effect of my words, and what harm they brought hither. In time, I learned to speak well once more, this time more careful of whose egos I’d score. From there my life changed sharply its path, choosing insight over my youth’s callous wrath. Thus grown, I found the shaman again, and asked her to teach me as she had back then.” Zecora smiled, and finally set down her tea. “And that is the tale of my onetime curse, the tail of the zebra, and her patterns of verse.”

“Wow. So, you mean to say, you must speak in verse even to this day?” Twilight blinked, then blushed. “Huh, that’s really infectious.”

“No, Twilight, rest assured, my curse is gone, its weight endured.” She shook her head. “This manner of speech is a gesture towards the one who taught me to watch for my words.”

“Huh.” Twilight could only sit in quiet contemplation. “That really wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Life rarely is, my young friend, but if you’ll excuse me, I’ve matters to attend.” She stood, and offered her hoof to Twilight. “Another day, I’ll tell you of home, but time is out, when it comes to my own.”

“Oh, of course. I have things I should be doing as well.” Twilight smiled, and faltered a moment, hugged Zecora. “And-- thank you for sharing with me.”

Zecora started a moment, then returned the hug. “Of course, it was a pleasure as well. I’m glad for my friends, and my stories to tell.”