Marjoram

by Nekiyha

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Original Character
Length: 103915

What if Twilight had another teacher in Canterlot besides Celestia?

Celestia is uncertain about one of her previous students: Marjoram. The unicorn is highly intelligent, incredibly powerful in magic, and yet he has no friends. He works as one of the few morticians in Canterlot, dabbles with herbalism, and is more than okay with performing autopsies on all sorts of creatures if it means furthering his research.

On the other hoof, Celestia has Twilight Sparkle, new to being a student. Young Twilight is skilled for her age, and recently discovered her special talent in magic. She has no friends outside of her family, and this worries Celestia; for she's seen what can happen to good ponies who feel isolated from everyone else.

So, Celestia decides to meddle in fate, and tasks Marjoram to give Twilight at least one lesson per week. Chaos, of course, can only ensue.

Edit. Nov 29th/2020: As some of you might have been able to realize, I haven't updated this story in a long time. I wrote myself into a whole and couldn't dig myself out of it. However, over the course of quarantine, I've been rewriting the story with the intent of completing it, even if it takes me a few years. As it stands, I'm a little over 16k words into the rewrite, and once I hit 20k, I'm going to publish and start posting semi-regularly.

In celebration of hitting 100k words, I comissioned the talented Pridark for a commission of Marjoram.Pridark

Published 2015-10-23 02:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-06-20 21:46:26 UTC

Illness Pt 1

Twilight was outside in one of the palaces many courtyards, soaking up the sun and enjoying her book about magical plants. It had been two weeks since her first lesson with Marjoram, and she now held less suspicions about the stallion than she'd had previously.

However, the unicorn had been so busy in the morgue, that he'd sent her out to read the first few chapters of the book. Twilight was relieved: she didn't like the harsh smells of the chemicals Marjoram had to use, and she certainly wasn't interested in the autopsies Marjoram was performing. Looking up at Celestia's sun, Twilight was horrified to notice the sun was beginning to dip west-ward. She was late going back to Marjoram, and she didn't want to face his sharp tongue or scathing remarks.

Picking up the book with her magic, Twilight ran as fast as her legs could carry her, back into rooms Marjoram used as his lab. When she entered, she half-expected Marjoram to be waiting for her, writing or reading as he usually did when he wasn't busy. However, this wasn't the case. He was in his office, hunched over, coughing harshly, clearly struggling to breathe, his thin torso heaving for every breath.

Just as Twilight was about to ask if she could help, blood splattered onto the floor, and Marjoram's legs folded underneath him. Twilight felt her magic waver on the book, hearing it clatter to the floor. Panic overwhelmed Twilight, and she didn't know what to do-

A yellow/gold flash of light temporarily blinded Twilight, and when she opened them, Celestia was already kneeling beside Marjoram, magic flowing from her horn into him.

Soon, the coughs settled, leaving Marjoram laying on his side, breathing nosily. A pillow appeared under his head, and he shut his eyes. Celestia rose to her full height, shaking her head sadly. She saw Twilight, and her eyes widened, “Twilight! I didn't realize you were here.”

Twilight felt tears welling in her eyes, the panic turning into fear, “Is-is he okay?”

“He will be, Twilight,” Celestia nuzzled Twilight, trying to comfort the young filly, “He's just sick.”

“He coughed up blood.”

“And I'm sorry you had to witness it,” Celestia intoned, “Marjoram suffers from an illness that causes him to cough blood.”

“Oh..,” Twilight looked over at Marjoram, who seemed more alert, his golden eyes open and watching, “That's sad.”

“It's...life,” Marjoram wheezed, “I'll...be...okay.”

Twilight's wide eyes turned to Celestia, “C-can I stay here for a while?”

Celestia had to clamp down on the urge to smile, “Of course you may.”

There was a sigh from Marjoram, but he either lacked the breath or strength to argue. Twilight smiled at Celestia, and carefully made her way to Marjoram, who was now trying to make himself more comfortable.

“You don't mind if I stay, do you?” Twilight asked.

Another, long suffering sigh, “If you...must.”

Celestia conjured some more cushions, setting them up under, and near, Marjoram so both he and Twilight could be comfortable. Marjoram looked grateful, but all he offered was a curt nod. His eyelids drifted shut once more, and Twilight watched uncertainly as Marjoram's breathing slowed and evened out.

“He'll sleep for a while, Twilight. Read some more of your book. If he isn't up by dinnertime, make sure he gets something to eat when he wakes up, alright?”

Twilight nodded, “Of course, Princess!”

Celestia smiled, “I'll be back as soon as my jobs for today are done, alright? Don't hesitate to get help if he needs it.”

Twilight looked back to Marjoram, “Is this why he doesn't like other ponies? Is it because he doesn't want their pity?”

Celestia's eyes widened, “No, Twilight. Marjoram has simply had a hard time interacting with other ponies. He will tell you his tale in time, Twilight. Don't rush him. Enjoy your book.”

Twilight nodded absentmindedly, levitating the book over to the cushions beside Marjoram, who was still fast asleep. Twilight made herself comfortable, sinking into the soft pillows like she'd done it her entire life.

Celestia shut the heavy door behind her, and teleported herself back to the throne room. This disturbance was sure to have worried her court greatly. Not that Celestia particularly cared; there were no crisis going on in Equestria right now.

Celestia could make time for her students when they were in need, for they were always making time for her.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram woke slowly, enjoying a warmth pressed into his side. He could hear someone reading, and he blearily wondered if Carnation was reading her herbalism books again-

Then, memories of pain, ostracization, death. Followed by change and joy, finding contentment because this is what I'm meant to do. Then, the pain of a twin lost-

Marjoram drove the memories away. He froze when he realized he wasn't imagining the presence curled up beside him, reading steadily from the book about rare magical plants and their properties. Marjoram opened one eye, to find Twilight curled up next to him, horn lit so she could see the book pressed into her face, and following along with her hoof.

The image reminded Marjoram so much of his twin sister that he stumbled to his feet, Twilight falling over from the sudden lack of support. Marjoram's legs almost gave out, but he made them stay strong. He would not falter.

“Marjoram!” Twilight called, “You're awake! Thank Celestia, I was getting worried-”

Marjoram struggled to clear his head, legs shaking, and breath wheezing in his chest, “Quiet!” Marjoram internally winced, he hadn't meant to sound that harsh-

Twilight leveled him a deadpan glare, but quieted. Marjoram used the quiet to center himself. After a few minutes, he straightened to his full height.

“Dream?” Twilight asked cautiously.

“Nightmare,” Marjoram replied steadily, “I'm fine now. You should leave, get some sleep-”

“It's only eight o'clock.”

“You're a child. You go to bed early.”

“I'm nine years old, not five!”

Marjoram smirked, “Really? I would never have guessed you were so old after you shrieked at that bug.”

Twilight's cheeks blushed scarlet, “Sorry.”

Marjoram shrugged, “Honestly, Twilight. Go. I'm fine.”

“Celestia wants me to stay here. She wants you to eat something.”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “Of course she does. Are you-”

Twilight's stomach rumbled. She looked sheepish, and smiled, “I was really focused.”

Marjoram sighed, “Let's go to the kitchens. We'll find something there, I'm sure.”

Twilight nodded, “Okay. C'mon!”

Marjoram picked up his cloak from his chair, slinging it over his thin body before he followed Twilight into the dark hallways. They went up one floor, finding the brightly lit kitchen quickly. The main cook, Sea Shores, had met both unicorns before, and happily served them some dinner: hearty stew, some bread, and some juice.

Twilight dug into her food with enthusiasm, while Marjoram picked at his slowly. A few minutes in, and Twilight's bowl was empty, and she was using the bread to mop up the remains of her dinner. A look of confusion crossed her features, “Aren't you hungry?”

Marjoram looked down at his overflowing bowl, and shook his head, “Rarely am. The illness I have limits the appetite severely. The first day I met you was a good day.”

Twilight nodded, returning to her meal. A few minutes later, she was done. A huge yawn made her jaw crack, and she smiled sheepishly, “Sorry.”

Marjoram shrugged, twisting his neck so a series of pops were heard, “Don't apologize, Twilight. Most ponies can crack their joints. Go to bed.”

Twilight shook her head, “No. I'm going to make sure you go to bed first.”

“I'm an adult.”

“You're sick!”

“I've been sick for a long time, and that fact is unlikely to change!”

“You should still take care of yourself!”

“I do!”

“You do not! This is the most I've seen you eaten since we met! You always look tired, and you're skinnier then I am!”

Marjoram stared at the defiant look on Twilight's face, and began to laugh. It was choked, rusty laughter, like he hadn't laughed in some time. It soon turned into a coughing fit, which wiped the mirth from Marjoram's face. He stared at Twilight for a moment, then nodded reluctantly, “Fine. I expect you to go right to your room after, alright? You need your beauty sleep.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Twilight demanded.

Marjoram said nothing, instead smirking at the irritation on Twilight's face. He slid off the chair, and walked toward the door. Twilight hurried after him, thanking Sea Shores as she went. As the pair walked, Twilight wondered what Marjoram's rooms looked like. Did he have one room with an adjoining bathroom, like herself? Or did he have more than one, like Celestia? Or did he have a set of rooms Twilight hadn't seen yet?

The possibilities were almost limitless. It was also possible to learn quite a lot from the unicorn by how he decorated his room. Twilight was excited, her stride bouncing with renewed vigor as she walked. The pair walked to the hallway where Twilight's own room was, walked by it, and turned around the corner. There, was a dead-end hallway that Twilight had explored during her first days. She had found the door locked, and now knew why: the room was occupied.

Marjoram opened the door with magic, stepping inside, leaving the door open for Twilight to follow. The room was unlike Twilight's; it was larger for one, and was very plain. There was the base Canterlot flair, but little else beyond. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled to bursting with books. The bed was a large, four-poster bed, and carpets lined the stone floor. Otherwise, there seemed to be little decor, little little personality contained within.

Marjoram looked at Twilight with his unsettling eyes, “Are you surprised? I live for my work.”

Twilight didn't know what to say. She looked around once more, and noticed a picture frame on the wooden desk located near the fireplace. She trotted over as Marjoram hung up his cloak. The picture was old, clearly folded over and kept like that before some time before it was unfolded and put into the frame. It depicted a family of five; three earth ponies, and two unicorns. One parent was a unicorn, while the other was an earth pony. The oldest of the children, a stallion, looked very different from the other men in the photo, but shared resemblances to the other children and the mother. The younger siblings looked to be the same age, but looked very different. The colt, who Twilight could tell was Marjoram himself, was slight but tall. Even then, he looked tired and sickly, and resembled his mother. The filly resembled the father, and was well built and healthy.

“Are these your family?”

“Yes,” Marjoram walked over, “My parents, my older half brother, and my twin sister.”

“What were their names?”

“My mother was named Rosebush, my father was Globeflower, my brother was Kafir, and my twin was Carnation.”

Twilight nodded, “You look like your mom.”

Marjoram stared, “I haven't been told that in a long time.”

Twilight smiled, “Have a good night.”

Marjoram nodded, closing the door behind Twilight. He flopped into bed, allowing the weariness he felt almost all the time wash over him, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Author's Note

Hey! I'm going to be posting the second part to this soon, then we're going to experience a serious time skip: just before the first episode. I love exposition, but I'd like to get on with it, y'know? Anyway, please let me know what you think! I love hearing from everyone!

Illness Pt 2

Twilight awoke suddenly, her ears twitching at the sounds drifting through her shut door. Ponies talking, and was that Celestia speaking as well? Twilight quietly got out of bed, bringing Smarty Pants with her. Once the talking died down, and Twilight could hear ponies moving away, she crept out of her room, and listened intently.

Twilight could hear Celestia's soft voice, but couldn't make out the words. Twilight could also hear faint...coughing? Twilight sighed, and tip-toed to Marjoram's door. It was half open, allowing her to peer in.

Marjoram was laying in his bed, wheezing heavily for breath. Celestia sat at his bedside, facing the door, using her magic to drape a cloth over his forehead, above the horn. Marjoram coughed weakly once again, tilting his head towards Celestia, when the cough turned wet. Celestia's horn glowed brighter, and Twilight heard liquid fall into a metal container.

Marjoram's head fell back onto the pillows, his head lolling over to face the door. Twilight froze, unsure if they had seen her-

“Come in, Twilight,” Celestia called quietly, “It's alright.”

“What's wrong?” Twilight asked quietly, trotting over the carpeted floor, “Is he going to be okay?”

Celestia's wise eyes looked down at Marjoram, filled with sorrow, “I do not know, Twilight. This happens sometimes, but it has been years since he's had an attack like this. If he survives the night, he'll pull through. Marjoram here is strong, stronger than many ponies give him credit for. He will fight.”

Twilight nodded, “What happened?”

Celestia sighed, “The workload. I should have realized we were asking too much of him. Between you, his research, and his job, I should have known he wasn't going to take care of himself.”

“He's been really busy at the morgue,” Twilight whispered, “I didn't even think that he could get worse.”

Celestia sighed, “it's not your fault. You should go to bed Twilight.”

“But-”

“I assure you, Twilight. If something happens, you will be the first pony I inform, alright? I'm going to stay with him.”

Twilight's eyes widened, “Really? All night?”

“All night.”

Twilight bit her lip, then, took Smarty Pants, and gently set the stuffed donkey on the bed beside Marjoram, “There. Now he's the safest pony in the world, with both you and Smarty looking after him.”

Celestia smiled, “Yes. Thank you Twilight. Now, go on.”

Twilight stumbled back to her room, yawning as she did so. She crawled into bed, and despite the discomfort of being without Smarty, she soon fell asleep.

When Twilight went to her first lesson the next morning, held in Celestia's private library, there were several things that she noticed. The first was Marjoram, sitting on one of the many plush chairs, fast asleep. He looked exhausted, even in sleep, and still quite ill, but he had lived through the night. The next thing Twilight noticed, was that Spike, the dragon she'd hatched, was quietly playing with some toys on the carpet. The last thing Twilight noticed, was Celestia, who was reading a book near the fireplace. She looked content, and peaceful, despite the dark circles under her eyes.

Twilight entered the room, and sat herself beside Celestia, who smiled at the young, purple filly, “No lessons today, Twilight. Please go play with Spike. He's missed you.”

Twilight nodded, hopped off the chair, and joined the dragon in his games.

(LINE BREAK)

When Marjoram woke from his nap, it was because he could no longer ignore the incessant giggling erupting from Twilight and Spike alike. Marjoram cracked one eye open, noting that Celestia was only pretending to read, and was in fact, trying not to laugh at the antics of Spike and Twilight.

Spike was only a few months old, but he's a dragon. His mind is vastly different then that of a pony. He could already speak simple sentences, and was already learning how to read and write, as well as other basic education topics.

Marjoram looked over to see Twilight laughing at the pile of drawings, giggling and talking to each other. The sight was odd, a young filly playing and laughing with a baby dragon. Marjoram felt his lips twitch, and despite how sick he still felt, some part of him wished he could join them on the floor.

After all, he was only eighteen.

A yawn forced him to reconsider his stance. Marjoram snuggled deeper into his chair, allowing his heavy eyelids to close. Once again, he fell asleep, safe and warm.

(LINE BREAK)

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, months into years. Time passes, and Twilight works hard to control her raw magical power. With Celestia and Marjoram both teaching her, Twilight finds herself knowledgeable about many things that many ponies would see as macabre, unnecessary, or just plain overkill. Twilight became skilled in anatomy, mathematics, research, literature, and science. She learned magical concepts and spells so quickly it was a struggle to keep her from becoming bored.

Twilight had seen both the best, and worst of ponykind. She'd been around the morgue enough that she knew that ponies would kill others, poison them, or worse that lead to death. She'd also seen the tearful parents, widows, siblings, and children of those passed, trying to process what had happened. She'd seen ponies take care of their loved ones until their last breath, but in the same day, she'd seen a wife murder her husband over a misunderstanding.

This was a good part of why Twilight found other ponies not worth the effort of creating a relationship. Ponies can be fickle things, unpredictable, unlike the sciences and magic she grew up with. Another part, was that she was an odd pony: special student to Princess Celestia herself, as well as Marjoram the mortician. Twilight had a dragon for an assistant, even if he was just a baby, and Twilight could recite facts, mathematics, and the like with little or no prompting. Twilight was incredibly intelligent, but socially stunted.

Twilight felt she didn't have time for other ponies, felt that she didn't need any friends beyond her immediate group: all of whom she'd known since child hood. Other ponies tried a few times, but Twilight always turned them away. Twilight was friendless, she had no one her own age to talk to.

Marjoram had had many good days and many bad days in the years since Twilight had become his student. He'd found a combination of herbs that eased his pain, and made his sleep easier. However, his health was beginning to flag, robbing him of weeks, sometimes months of potential work. Bedridden, feverish, and coughing up blood, Marjoram had been reluctant to try Twilight's hurried cures, but tried a fair number of them anyway.

Some worked relatively well, returning Marjoram's appetite and strength, until he overworked himself or forgot to take care of himself. Then, he was bedridden again. Some had no effect, and some made things quite a bit worse. It was a mixed bag, but Marjoram was honoured Twilight would go out of her way to help.

Celestia was...Celestia. She was wise, kind, always with gentle words and a kind smile. She was all sunlight and flowers. Ready to lead if needed, but more than willing to follow as well. She would correct with a kind word, a correction that Twilight would drill into her own head without prompting. Debate and discussion solidify readings and lessons, where Twilight can voice opinions and questions without worrying about interrupting too much. Celestia was calm, and peaceful, only giving hints at what she was truly feeling because Equestria's eyes were on her all the time.

Marjoram on the other hoof, was sharp angles and an acerbic tongue. Corrections come swiftly, and he was more than willing to do the drilling himself. Marjoram would make Twilight fight for her correct answers, making her think and use her head, making her use her magic until she thought her horn would fall off. Bickering was their constant companion, explaining and showing off their respective wits at the same time. Marjoram tended to hide the majority of his emotions, usually using exasperation and sarcasm to drive his lessons home. However, the occasional crooked smile would tell Twilight she was going in the right direction, if she had argued her case enough, or if Marjoram was just in a good enough mood to show how much he cared.

One morning, a week before the Summer Sun Celebration, Twilight and Spike were in Marjoram's lab; pouring over an ancient book of legends. Marjoram was beside them, sipping his tea and reading as well. The stallion's breathing is uneven and wheezing, but he ate earlier, and he could stand on his own: both good signs considering how harsh the winter had been.

Twilight looked up at her teacher, taking in his more-haggard-than-normal appearance, and wondered if he slept the night before. Marjoram steadily meets her gaze, “Good book?” he asks, his voice hoarse and rasping.

“I was looking into the constellation patterns, and no one has ever seen those four stars near the moon like this before. One of the reports I was reading mentioned the Mare in the Moon story, and Spike wanted to read it, so-”

“Here it is!” Spike jabbed a talon at the book, careful not to impale the fragile pages with his razor sharp digits.

Twilight pulled the book closer, and Marjoram closed his own book, listening intently to the young mare as she told the story.

“Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters that ruled, and created harmony for all the land. To do this, the eldest sister used her magic to raise the sun in the morning, and the younger brought out the moon at night. Thus, the two sisters brought balance to their kingdom and their subjects.

But, as time went on, the younger sister became resentful. The ponies played and danced in her sister's sunlight, but slept through her beautiful night. One fateful day, the younger sister refused to lower the moon for the coming dawn. The eldest tried to reason with the youngest, but the youngest refused to listen. The bitterness in her heart had turned her into a wicked mare of darkness: Nightmare Moon!

She vowed to shroud the entire world in her night, for eternity. Reluctantly, the eldest sister harnessed the most powerful magic known to ponykind: the Elements of Harmony. Using this magic, she defeated her younger sister, and banished her permanently to the moon. The elder sister took on the responsibility for both the sun and the moon, and harmony has been maintained in Equestria ever since.”

Twilight finished the story, flipping back through the book, barely glancing at the beautiful illustrations within. She looked over to Marjoram, who had a peculiar look on his face.

“Where have we heard about the Elements of Harmony before?”

Marjoram set his mug down, sighing, “I don't remember. We should go find out, I have a feeling it'll be important.”

Twilight smiled, stood up, and shut the book, “You up for a trip back to my rooms? I'm pretty sure I've got a book there that'll help.”

Marjoram sighed, then got to his hooves, “Of course. Let's go.”

Arriving in Ponyville

Marjoram lay on Twilight's couch, half asleep as Twilight and Spike ran around the room, trying to find the book they were looking for. The walk over, more of a brisk run with how excited Twilight was, had taken more out of him then he was willing to admit. Twilight had insisted he take the couch, which he was secretly grateful for.

Suddenly, the activity stopped, books falling to the floor when Twilight cut her magic to them, “FOUND IT!”

Marjoram jerked awake, blinking slowly at Twilight. Twilight was using her magic to frantically flip through the pages, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Mare in the Moon?” Twilight muttered, flipping towards the back of the book, “A myth from olden times, a pony that wanted to rule Equestria. She was defeated by the Elements of Harmony, and imprisoned on the moon. Legend says that on the longest day of the 1000th year, that the stars will aid in her escape, and she'll bring about nighttime eternal! Spike, do you know what this means!?”

Spike, who had been attempting to put some of the books away, looked over his shoulder, “No.”

“Take a note please, to the Princess.”

“But, Twilight! This is just an old pony's tale. And with the Summer Sun Celebration-”

“That's why we have to tell her now! Next week is when this prophecy is supposed to come true! C'mon, Spike! Celestia will be more than willing to help!”

Marjoram sighed, “Twilight, she's very busy. I doubt she'll even get to your letter right away, even if it's extremely urgent.”

“Well, I've got to warn her anyway. Spike, get ready.”

Spike unrolled a scroll of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and looked at Twilight, “Ready.”

“My Dearest Teacher,

My continued studies about magic have led me to the prophecy of the Mare in the Moon! We are on the brink of disaster! On the day of the Summer Sun Celebration, Nightmare Moon will return and will try to bring about eternal nighttime. Something has to be done to ensure that this horrible prophecy doesn't come true!

I await your quick response,

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle.”

Spike finished the letter, tying it off with a red ribbon. He breathed fire into the air, and tossed the scroll into it, where it would be transported to the Princess herself.

Marjoram levered himself to his feet, “Twilight, I wouldn't hold your breath, Celestia is exceedingly busy this year.”

“C'mon, she trusts me completely! In all my years as a student, she's never doubted me!”

Spike clapped a claw over his muzzle, looking faintly nauseous. Then, he burped, green fire sparking, and a scroll appeared, Twilight catching it with her magic, “See! Told you!”

“Yeah. That was quick,” Spike remarked, slightly impressed.

Twilight unfurled the scroll, eye moving quickly across the page as she read, “My Dearest, Most Faithful Student, Twilight. You know I value your diligence, and that I trust you completely. But you have to stop reading those dusty books-” Twilight cut herself off, gasping in surprise, “What?”

Marjoram smirked, “Told you, kid. C'mon, read the rest. Parchments too long for just that.”

“My dear Twilight, I know Marjoram is with you, so in this section, I'm addressing you both. There is more to life than just studying and work, and while I admire the strong bonds between the both of you, it is imperative that you both learn something that I have been unable to teach you: friendship. I'm sending you both to supervise the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration in this year's location, Ponyville. While there, there is a very important task I'd like you to complete: make some friends.”

Twilight cut herself off again, sharing a look of surprise on her face with Marjoram. Spike fell to the ground, laughing raucously. Once Spike quieted, she continued, “I know you both will not be pleased with this request, but even if you fail with your secondary objective, I believe the time away from Canterlot will be beneficial. The clean country air may help Marjoram's lungs, and the peace and quiet may allow you to relax, Twilight. Think of it like a vacation. Transport will be sent tomorrow morning, at 10 o'clock sharp. Be ready with your bags.”

Twilight sighed, setting the letter down, and looking at Marjoram, “I suppose we better get packed.”

Marjoram stared sullenly at the piece of parchment, “Sure we can't burn it and pretend Spike sneezed?”

“That was once, and I had a cold!”

Twilight shook her head, “Afraid not. I'll see you later? For dinner?”

Marjoram shrugged, plodding quietly toward the door, “Dunno. Make sure I'm actually awake in the morning, Twilight. I'd really not like to be late because I slept in.”

“Of course. I hope you get some rest.”

Marjoram smiled weakly, before shutting the door quietly behind him.

Twilight sighed, and looked at Spike, “How many books do you think I should bring?”

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram leaned against the side of the golden, gilded carriage, trying not to puke all over the lovely countryside. Twilight was sitting on her haunches, watching as her friend and mentor was fighting motion sickness. Spike was asleep, stuck between Twilight and the carriage.

“Is this why you said no when I invited you to the fair when I was ten?”

A pitiful sound between a cough and a whimper was her only reply. Twilight rolled her eyes and conjured a bucket, forcing Marjoram into a sitting position with the bucket between his legs. Marjoram rested his head against the edge, his golden eyes glassed over.

“We're almost there,” Pike, one of the fliers, announced, “Ponyville is just ahead. A few minutes and we'll be on the ground.”

“Oh, thank Celestia,” Marjoram murmured, gagging into the bucket, “I felt fine before this. Why couldn't we just take the train?”

“This is faster,” Twilight deadpanned, shaking her head slightly.

“I know! It was rhetorical!”

Spike jolted into wakefulness, scratching his scales as he looked around, “Are we there yet?”

“Almost,” Twilight replied miserably.

“C'mon, Twilight! Lighten up! There might be some interesting ponies in Ponyville!”

The carriage began to descend, prompting Marjoram to look up from the bucket, and treat Twilight with one of his rare smiles, “Sweet, sweet ground!”

Twilight snorted, “C'mon. Just another minute or two, and you can get off this thing.”

When the pegasi set the carriage down, they were so gentle that Twilight wondered if they were still afloat. Marjoram jumping from the carriage, and stumbling to his knees on the packed dirt path proved otherwise, making Twilight herself scramble off the comfortable seat to make sure he wasn't hurt.

Marjoram picked himself off the ground, straightening up, “Thank you gentlemen,” his magic picked up the trunks from the carriage, “Have a good trip home.”

The stallions nodded, and took off, soaring back toward Canterlot at top speed. Marjoram set the suitcases down, and looked around at the pastel buildings of Ponyville.

“This is gonna suck,” Twilight muttered under her breath.

“We're in a library,” Marjoram offered helpfully.

“C'mon! You two are supposed to be making friends! At least try?” Spike asked, making his eyes larger and his bottom lip tremble minutely.

Marjoram and Twilight shared a look, “Damnit! He's got us!”

“Not the look!” Twillght internally cursed, but luckily, a bright pink young mare was bouncing (literally bouncing) down to road toward them, “Hi, I'm-”

The mare came to a stop, taking in the sight of the newcomers before springing into the air, with a loud, melodramatic gasp. She then ran down the street without another word, and Twilight shot Spike a look that said I told you so.

Marjoram sighed, “C'mon. Let's get our stuff to the library. I want my tea.”

Twilight levitated her bag, standing close to her mentor so they could walk together. Spike climbed up Twilight so he could sit on her back, looking around excitedly at the new town. I want my tea was a code the pair had devised to use in public when Marjoram wasn't feeling at all well, exclusively used when they were out in public.

Twilight nodded, “Yeah. C'mon, we shouldn't be too far away. It's a treehouse, isn't it, Spike?”

“Yeah. Golden Oak Library.”

“That's ironic,” Marjoram remarked, “A library in a bloody tree.”

Twilight snorted, “C'mon. Let's go get your tea.”

Marjoram nodded, and began to follow Twilight through the streets of Ponyville. They earned some odd looks, but nopony came to them, or interrupted their walk. Twilight kept half an eye on Marjoram, seeing his magic wavering on his suitcase a few times as his energy began to decline.

Once they entered the library, Marjoram's magic gave out at the same moment his legs did. He collapsed onto the wooden floor, coughing harshly. Spike ran, his little legs pumping, into the kitchen, “I'll get the kettle started!”

Twilight set her bag down, and aided Marjoram to his feet. He leaned on her, still coughing harshly, blood flecking his lips. He collapsed onto a couch, and allowed Twilight to prop his head up so he could breathe a little easier.

“Where's the teabags?”

“Suitcase...in-” blood splattered to the ground, panic rose in Marjoram's chest as his chest constricted.

Twilight tore the suitcase open, finding the canister of pre-made teabags resting on top. She ran into the kitchen. Marjoram's vision began to fade as his lungs cried out for air. Oh Celestia-

A cup was brought to his lips, and Marjoram inhaled as much steam as he could. It unclouded the cobweb like feeling in his chest, and allowed him to breathe enough that he could drink. A few moments later, the medicine in the tea began to work its magic: soothing the ever present pain in Marjoram's lungs and removing the feeling he was breathing through cobwebs.

“Thank you, Twilight,” Marjoram breathed, sipping the hot beverage.

Twilight offered a shaky smile, “It's no problem. Why didn't you tell me you felt this bad?”

Marjoram shrugged his thin shoulders, “I feel bad...all the time, Twilight.”

“I know,” Twilight's voice softened, “I just worry.”

Marjoram offered a small smile, “I know,” he began to drink the tea a little quicker, reveling in its warmth, “I don't suppose...we can stay...here today?”

“We have a whole week,” Twilight smiled, “We'll check on everything tomorrow. I want to take a look at this library. Should be fun!”

Marjoram nodded, “Yes, I suppose it... would be, Twilight. Go on…I'll rest here...for a while.”

“Call if you need something,” Twilight intoned, trotting briskly out of Marjoram's line of sight, “I mean it. I don't care if its for something little.”

Marjoram said nothing, downing the last of his tea and setting the cup on a nearby table. In spite of himself, Marjoram's eyes slid shut, and he soon found himself asleep.

(LINE BREAK)

Spike, curled up with one of the new comic books he'd brought from Canterlot, watched at Twilight busily reorganized the library, cleaning and humming as she did so. It was a familiar sight, one that Spike was accustomed to. However, it never ceased to amaze him on how much Twilight could get done in such a relatively short amount of time.

Marjoram was still sleeping on the couch he'd claimed earlier, though his face and body were more relaxed than Spike remembered seeing for quite some time. Spike hoped this was a good sign that meant Marjoram would be up to eating dinner. The unicorn was too skinny already without missing what meals he did eat regularly.

Almost as if by magic, Spike's stomach rumbled loudly enough for Twilight to hear over her cleaning. She paused in her work, quickly finding the clock that rested in between two bookshelves.

“Oh dear! Let me finish this row, Spike, then we'll go get a late lunch. Would you mind waking Marjoram?”

Spike hopped off of his chair, setting his comic book down carefully. He walked over to the sleeping unicorn, and gently prodded at Marjoram's shoulder, careful not to slice open the skin by accident.

Marjoram mumbled something unintelligible before cracking one golden eye open to stare at the young dragon, “Yes?”

“Twilight and I are going to get lunch soon,” Spike informed Marjoram.

“So?”

“You need to eat something,” Spike retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, “You didn't eat breakfast this morning, and Sea Shores told me you didn't get dinner yesterday either.”

Marjoram muttered a curse, “Damn that mare!” Marjoram reluctantly got to his hooves, slowly stretching out the aches and pains that had developed because he slept on a couch.

“Watch your language!” Twilight called playfully, shelving the last of the books that were meant to go on that particular shelf, “he's still a baby!”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “Maybe physically, but not mentally. This dragon is much more mature than most ponies his age.”

Spike offered Marjoram a wide smile, earning a crooked grin in return.

“So, do we know where we're eating?” Marjoram asked, fetching his cloak from where Spike had hung it beside the door.

“Nope,” Twilight smiled nervously, “We'll find something. I hear there's a good bakery here that sells a lot of different stuff. Maybe there?”

Marjoram shrugged, “Why not. Are we ready?”

Spike's stomach growled again, and Spike patted it soothingly, “I'm more than ready!”

Twilight stifled a laugh, “Me too. Let's go.”

It took a few minutes to find the bakery, called Sugar Cube Corner. Thankfully, the restaurant wasn't busy, so they didn't need to wait in line. Twilight and Spike ordered first, leaving Marjoram to order last and pay for the food.

They found a table in a corner of the bakery, and sat down, eagerly awaiting their food. A few minutes later, and a short mare with a pink mane came to the table, balancing trays on her back. Using her mouth, she slid two platters and three plates onto the table.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Water for us,” Twilight gestured to Spike and herself.

“Coffee, please,” Marjoram replied, trying not to stare wide-eyed at the veritable feast in front of him.

“I'm Mrs. Cake,” The mare said, “I'll be right back with your drinks, and don't be afraid to yell if you need something!”

Twilight nodded, and turned her attention to the food laid out before her, “Wow.”

“What in Celestia's name did you order?”

“Two sampler trays,” Spike said, already picking up several goodies from the platter closest to him, “Twilight wanted to try a bit of everything.”

“You did, too,” Twilight retorted, magically picking up a few different items from both platters.
Marjoram stared down at the plate in front of him, which held the two cheese croissants he ordered. He suppressed a sigh, and cautiously took a bite. I'll have to tell Sea Shores her croissant game has to step up, holy hell.

Twilight gestured to the trays, “If you're hungry, take whatever you want. There's a lot here.”

“Considering I paid, I better have free reign of those,” Marjoram muttered darkly.

Twilight offered a shy smile, “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” Marjoram replied, “We'll have enough to take back with us, I'm sure.”

Twilight eyed Spike with a disbelieving look, “Don't be too sure about that.”

Spike looked up from the plate he'd overloaded with food, “What?” He asked around a mouthful of tart.

Twilight rolled her eyes, and gave Marjoram a pointed look, “How're the croissants?”

Marjoram popped the last bite of the first one into his mouth, then raised his eyebrows. Twilight knew the only foods he could regularly keep down were relatively limited, so he tended to take his time when eating anything new or from somewhere new. The speed in which he ate the first croissant clearly told Twilight his answer.

Twilight's grin grew, “That's good.”

Mrs. Cake came back, and gently slid the two glasses of cold water onto the table, then slid the hot coffee toward Marjoram, gently placing a little tray that held cream and sugar beside the cup, “There we are. Enjoy!”

“Thank you!” Spike said, offering Mrs. Cake a dazzling smile.

Mrs. Cake smiled back, then left, disappearing behind the counter, and into the kitchen. The three friends ate, mostly in silence, for a few minutes. Spike practically demolished his plate of various tarts, pastries, and other assorted baked goods. Twilight ate slowly, watching with awe as Spike plowed through his food. Marjoram finished his second croissant, and picked out a butter tart that he nibbled on until Spike and Twilight finished.

Twilight called Mrs. Cake over, who packaged up the leftover baked goods as the group finished their drinks. Then, Mrs. Cake handed them the box with a brilliant smile, “Have a good day, you three!”

“Thank you, you too!” Spike waved, carrying the box with eager talons.

Marjoram, Twilight, and Spike stood at the side of the road, watching as the ponies around them went about their day.

“Now what?” Twilight asked.

Marjoram shrugged, “Up to you two, I suppose. Though, I suggest we put the leftovers in the fridge in the library. We don't want to have Spike carrying that all day.”

Twilight nodded in agreement, “Let's go do that now. We can figure out-what's wrong? Do you need your tea?”

Marjoram had froze in place, staring at a tall, strapping stallion across the street, “I'm fine,” Marjoram mumbled, “I-I could swear-”

At that moment, the stallion turned, showing off his Cutie Mark (a shield that seemed to have several gold bits inlaid into it), and his face. To Twilight, he looked very familiar, though she couldn't peg why. The stallion was tall, an inch or two taller than Marjoram, with a thick, black mane and tail. His coat shone a brown/red, and he looked alarmingly like-

“Kafir?” Marjoram breathed. Without a word, Marjoram strode over to the stallion, who half turned to face the movement of a pony coming towards him.

Kafir's face transformed into a cool, crooked grin, “Oh-”

With a speed Twilight didn't know Marjoram possessed, the unicorn spun and bucked Kafir in the chest, sending the larger stallion to the cobblestones.

“After all this time, and you don't even have anything to say!?” Marjoram snarled, his eyes narrowed and glinting with a rage Twilight had never seen, “Where the hell were you!?”

Kafir picked himself up off the ground, brushing off his chest with his foreleg, “First thing you do when you see your brother is to kick him? Wow, little brother, you've really go to work on your manners,” Thankfully, the smirk was gone, replaced by a look that was hard to read, “I thought Carnation would ha-”

Twilight felt the magic present in all of Equestria shift, something she'd only ever heard described when a unicorn of incredible magical talent lost control. Twilight had felt it in herself on the day she'd taken her entrance exam for Celestia's school, though she wasn't aware of it at the time, and thus wasn't able to articulate what had happened, even years later.

Twilight shielded Spike from the chaos that occurred. Windows shattered, street lamps bent, tables and chairs that were outside were tipped over. Twilight saw clothes hanging up on clotheslines outside change into fruit, saw a bunny turn into a tea kettle. Ponies ran into the nearest buildings, scrambling and helping each other along the way. Soon enough, the street was empty except for Kafir, Marjoram, Twilight, and Spike. Twilight felt her mouth dry, and her heart rate increase. This is not good.

Marjoram's eyes were wide open, glowing and pulsing with the golden energy that was his magic. His horn was alight as well, shining brighter than Twilight had ever seen. Kafir's eyes went wide, his face draining of colour, and he tried to back away.

However, Marjoram's magic held Kafir in place. Marjoram leaned close to his brother, anger and grief written clearly on his face.

“Don't you know? I sent you letters, Princess Celestia sent you letters, and you don't know?!”

“About the illness you guys had?” Kafir said, “I-I thought you were fine-”

“Carnation is dead!” Marjoram spat, “and you didn't come! All she wanted was to see you one more time, and I had to keep lying and telling her you were there!” Marjoram's voice cracked, but the magic held firm, “I had to tell her that she kept sleeping through your visits, that you would be back, that she would see you soon!”

“Marjoram-”

“I was there while she died! Where were you?!”

“I-”

Twilight felt the magic shift again, but she heard the coughing before magic settled back into place. No more damage had been done, but Kafir and Marjoram were both on the ground. Marjoram was on his knees, coughing blood over the cobblestones. Kafir was on his side, stunned from the force of magic that had held him, staring wide-eyed at his younger sibling.

Twilight motioned for Spike to stay where he was, and galloped over to Marjoram, “Hey-”

“C'lestia,” Marjoram choked out.

“Spike!” Twilight called, who was already running over.

“What?”

Twilight pulled on her magic, summoning a quill, sheet of parchment, and a bottle of ink. Writing quickly, Twilight penned a note, then handed it to Spike who sent it off in a burst of green flames.

“What's going on?” Kafir asked, eyes wide, clearly trying to remain calm.

Twilight offered no answer, instead turning her attention to Marjoram, who was fighting for each bit of oxygen he could get. Twilight moved the discarded cloak away, knowing that the stallion viewed it as one of his few prized possessions and that Marjoram wouldn't want it stained with his own blood.

A bright, yellow light flashed, and Celestia was there, pouring her magic into Marjoram, concern written on her features. She saw Kafir, and her face was filled with disappointment, and a little anger, before she turned her full attention to Marjoram.

Soon enough, the coughing slowed, then stopped, leaving Marjoram panting on the cobblestones, clearly fighting to stay awake.

“It's alright,” Celestia intoned. She shut her eyes, and a wave of bright magic flowed from her and into the surrounding area, undoing the damage Marjoram's magic had done. Marjoram lost consciousness the second the magic reached him, his breathing evening out and deepening.

Kafir blinked up at the Princess, “What was that about?”

“It's not my tale to tell,” Celestia replied, her voice...flatter than usual, less gentle, “You'll have to ask Marjoram when he wakes.”

Kafir nodded, picked himself up off the ground, and stared down at his brother.

Twilight used her magic to pick her mentor up, gently ensuring his head was kept steady, “I'll bring him to the library. Would you like some tea, Princess?”

“Yes please, Twilight. I should stay nearby for a while, just in case,” Celestia replied, “Come on, Spike. Kafir, you too.”

The group of ponies trudged into the library, where Twilight set Marjoram on the couch, cushioning his head with a pillow, and Spike draped a blanket over him. Twilight hung to cloak up, and retreated to the kitchen, where Kafir and Celestia were waiting.

“I'm sorry, Princess. He said he needed you-”

“It's not a problem, Twilight. Before I leave, I'll teach you that spell. I can't believe you haven't asked.”

Twilight dug around the kitchen for a moment, finding the kettle, tea, and cups, “I thought only you could do it.”

“Oh no,” Celestia smiled weakly, “I learned it from Megan, the mortician before Marjoram.”

“He's a mortician?” Kafir asked incredulously, “Seriously?”

“He has been since before he turned eighteen,” Celestia returned, “He started learning the second he met Megan.”

Kafir nodded, “I-I remember he mentioned...but I never thought...A mortician? How many of those are left in Equestria?”

“Too few,” Twilight and Celestia replied in unison.

Celestia shot a slight smile in Twilight's direction, “Less than three hundred.”

“For all of Equestria?”

“He's one of two in Canterlot,” Twilight stated proudly, “Between himself and the other pony, they take on Canterlot, Ponyville, and many of the surrounding small villages. Most funeral parlours just have a doctor make an educated guess if the cause of death isn't outright plain to see.”

Kafir nodded slowly, accepting the tea cup Twilight shoved in his direction.

When the kettle boiled, Twilight put two teabags into the pot, and the three waited in uncomfortable silence while the tea steeped.

“How long will he be out?” Kafir ventured.

“A while yet, I'd imagine,” Celestia replied, “I felt his magic from Canterlot, and was about to send a letter through Spike when you wrote me.”

Kafir nodded, staring down at his cup, “Carnation's really dead, isn't she?”

“Yes,” Celestia replied, “almost two months after you would have received your first letter.”

Twilight used her magic to pour tea into the teacups, setting the kettle back on the stove when she was done. The three drank their tea in silence. All they could really do was wait.

Author's Note

I'm a cruel person, aren't I?
Don't worry, I haven't given up on this story, quite the opposite really, but university is a pain. So, I write when I can, which isn't much.
Anyway, please let me know what you think.

Dreaming and Explanations

Pain is present in every breath, every beat of my heart, every thought. The pain is everywhere; in my magic, in my blood, sunk deep into my bones. I'm not dying, but I wish I was.

Megan, my mentor and one of few friends, is dead. She died saving me and my twin. Megan poured all of her magic, all of her life into us, and she died because of it. However, she didn't have enough magic and life to save us like she'd thought. Splitting one life between two didn't fix the problem.

Carnation is dying, and I can't help her. My twin, the pony that I've never gone more than a day without seeing, is dying by inches in front of me and I can't save her. All because I'm too weak to try to do what Megan started.

I can't separate my magic or my life from myself, because my magic is tangled up with Megan's, still trying to kill off the illness within me. I know, the doctors know, Celestia knows, it will not succeed. The magic is only strong enough to kill off the weaker bacteria in my system, then the illness will become resistant to magic. It will be a miracle if I'm ever cured at all.

The threat of illness, of being sick forever, is something I can live with. Make me walk across hot coals, cut off my horn, make me unable to use magic again, and I will find a way to come back. But I don't know if I'll survive Carnation's death. She's always been there, helping me, protecting me when I couldn't myself, offering support when I need it. I can't imagine life without her.

Even now, when she's conscious and lucid, she tells me not to give up, not to worry. She tries to comfort me as she lays dying. Whether she knows it or not, its me that soothes her fever. Its me that's trying to make her last days (weeks, perhaps?) comfortable.

Celestia helps, when my body gives out. She's here with us more often than not, trying to see if there's anything her alicorn magic can do. She's had no luck, and I doubt she'll find something in time to save Carnation.

Carnation...strong and beautiful, always willing to talk through problems, more than willing to fight if its needed. She wants to be a guard, and now she'll never be one...though I thought I heard Celestia mention making her an honorary one, then promoting her to a full guard posthumously. She didn't tell me though, I overheard.

I hope that's what Celestia does. You'll be so proud, Carnation. You've always wanted to be like Kafir, just settled down, unlike him. Gods I hope you don't linger...you're in so much more pain than I am…

The door opens, and I look up from Carnation's barely breathing body to face the door. Celestia is there, her face sombre and her eyes sad. She holds a tray overflowing with food with her magic. When she sees I'm awake, she offers a sad, soft smile.

“She's the same,” I whisper, laying my head back down. Celestia probably already knows, but I want to tell her everything anyway. Just in case.

Celestia sets the tray down on the night table closest to me, “C'mon, Marjoram. You must eat something.”

“I'm not hungry,” comes automatically to my lips. It's not a lie.

“I know you're not, but you still need food to function.”

That's debatable. I suppress a derisive snort, but obediently tear my eyes away from Carnation, turning to the soup Celestia brought. Tomato-basil, my favourite. Still not hungry. I choke down half the bowl, soaking the bread roll heavily in the warm liquid before eating it.

Then, I'm back to my previous position, where I can keep a close eye on Carnation. I can see her breathing, can be right there when she wakes up, and not need to worry about bending my body into odd shapes to fit into a chair for all hours.

I can hear Celestia sigh. Against my will, I'm keeping watch after all, she drapes a thick blanket over me, and gently slides a pillow under my head.

“I'll keep watch for a while. You rest.”

Despite myself, my eyes begin to close. They're burning with exhaustion, and my eyelids feel like they're weighed down with lead. Despite everything, my eyes slide shut, and I know no more.

(LINE BREAK)

I woke to the sounds of screaming outside of my window. My eyes felt crusty, and I ache everywhere, “Last time Carnation and I try to go troll hunting,” I muttered scathingly under my breath, while getting to my feet and going to my window.

My window faced the small town square, very convenient for pony watching. Very convenient for watching the other ponies play and make fun of me and my family. Mostly me. My mother and I were the lone unicorns in a tiny village of earth ponies. That made us odd.

I stared into the street, wondering why anypony would be screaming at this hour-

“Marjoram!” Carnation called from downstairs, her voice tinged with worry and fear.

I ran downstairs, tripping over my little legs as I go. At 5, I was lot smaller than should have been. Once I got outside, I saw something that's burned into my dreams forever.

My father, half covered in a sheet, clearly dead. Even to my young eyes I knew something was very wrong. I could see blood pooling under him. Later, I'd learn that a tree fell and crushed him. He survived long enough to get dragged back to the village, then died shortly after. My mother was beside him, sobbing hard, Kafir stood beside her, clearly unsure of what to do.

Carnation was standing in our doorway, sobbing hard. Neither of us would really understand what had happened for a while, but the accident would scar is in more than one way.

Weeks later, my mother would be dead too. Her magic had consumed her, and Kafir had vowed the same wouldn't happen to me. We sold our house, what part of it was still standing since Father never got a chance to fix it after I nearly burnt it down, and we sold most of our possessions. The only things I kept were a small bag of clothes, the only picture that remained of the five of us together, and a little journal I had saved from the fire, burnt around the edges. Mother had been lucid when she bought me it, and I had saved it on impulse.

Mother was rarely lucid, as she had been dropped outside the village shortly after birth. Her adoptive parents never realized young unicorns needed training until it was too late, and by then, her mind was already half in the world of magic, and half out. Now she was gone, starved to death because Carnation and I failed to bring her out of her latest, and longest, trance.

“Marjoram-”

Now, we're in Canterlot. Carnation and I have just turned six, Kafir is just fourteen. We're all we have, and we're in the capital of Equestria, not knowing if we'll survive the night. We don't have any money, barely three bags worth of belongings, and I'm a six year old unicorn with no training, who can barely make my horn light up with my magic.

“Marjoram!”

(LINE BREAK)

Celestia knelt beside Marjoram, trying to convince the unicorn to wake from whatever nightmares he was suffering from. He was talking, but making no sense. So far, Celestia had been unable to wake Marjoram at all.

Marjoram was suffering from a fever, and despite Kafir's unease, was unlikely to wake for a while. Marjoram's coughing was held at bay, but the fever that raged through his system was as unkind as they ever were, forcing Marjoram to pant for breath, shaking with chills.

“It's going to be a long night, Twilight. Why don't you put Spike to bed while Kafir and I move Marjoram into a proper bed? Take your time, Twilight. I need to have some words with Kafir,” Celestia's tone of voice left no argument.

Twilight nodded, ushering Spike into the little loft that they would share. Celestia used her magic to levitate Marjoram up off the couch, and gently brought him into the basement, where a spare bed waited. Kafir followed behind Celestia, clearly worried.

Once Marjoram was in bed, safe and warm under the blankets, Celestia turned to Kafir, her eyes shining with anger that was rarely felt.

“I don't know what excuses you have for not coming back for your family, I don't want to know what you were doing as your sister lay dying, and I don't want to know how you ignored the letters Marjoram wrote you.”

Kafir looked down at his hooves, “I only received the one you wrote, then one that Marjoram wrote telling me that Megan had saved them. That's it, I swear.”

Celestia stared down at Kafir, “That may be so, but I don't care. I'm going to tell you what you left your brother to deal with alone.”

Kafir's blue eyes widened, “But-”

“No buts,” Celestia conjured two chairs, sitting down in one before gesturing that Kafir sit in the other one, “I'm going to tell you what you abandoned.”

Kafir sank into the chair, staring down at the ground.

Celestia took a deep breath, centering herself, “After you left, I obviously took them both in. The first few years were tough, as they had to adjust to city life, and new dangers and excitement. Marjoram tended to stay in the morgue after he met Megan, even though she wouldn't let him see dead bodies for a while. Carnation helped my gardeners in the gardens, and began to learn to be a guard. She was far too young, of course, but she was hopeful.”

Kafir nodded, a bitter smile forming, “Yeah. She always wanted to be like me.”

Celestia nodded, “Yes. She did. Shortly before their fifteenth birthday, a sickness swept through Canterlot. I quarantined the city, and both of your siblings did their best to help. Carnation, surprisingly, got sick first. I thought Marjoram would succumb first, since he was always the sickly one out of the both of them. After Carnation fell ill, it didn't take long for Marjoram to do the same.”

Kafir nodded, “He stopped taking care of himself, didn't he?”

“Yes, he did. Megan tried to cure them with the cures that had worked with others, but found the strain was more...difficult to remove from their lungs. In an insane hunch that I doubt any pony has ever tried before, Megan channeled all of her life and magic into Marjoram and Carnation. Of course, Megan died, since she spared nothing of herself in the attempt,” Celestia sighed.

“However, the reaction didn't happen like Megan hoped. Carnation's body didn't react well to the sudden influx of someone's life force and magic being thrust upon it. Megan extended Carnation's life by a few weeks, but did nothing to combat the actual illness. The last week of Carnation's life was spent in feverish delirium that I could only soothe by making sure Carnation was pumped full of the strongest sedatives we had.”

Kafir let out a shaking breath, but said nothing.

“Marjoram on the other hoof, reacted rather well to Megan's magic. If she'd used all of her magic on him, I have no doubt that he'd have been cured forever, likely with some added benefits as well, as Megan's magic so complimented his. However, the magic could only clear out some of the bacteria, and it couldn't completely fight of the strongest bacteria. I couldn't use my own magic to cleanse the illness from Marjoram until it was too late, and the bacteria had become resistant to magic. It's all I can do now to stop the coughing when he's unable to stop it himself,” Celestia sighed, shaking her head.

Kafir licked his lips, “I can't believe he survived at all.”

“He almost didn't,” Celestia murmured, “After Carnation died he just...stopped. It took me six months to get him out of his room, took me another two to get him to study with me again. After that, he decided to become a mortician, after all Megan had taught him much. He became the youngest mortician ever in Canterlot, after serving a short apprenticeship at the other mortician's in Canterlot.”

“Wow.”

“He watched Carnation die,” Celestia said quietly, “He was there, almost every second of every day. He made her feel better when he could, even when he was so feverish himself he thought he saw your mother standing in the corner. He almost died trying to keep his sister as comfortable as possible.”

“No wonder he hates me,” Kafir whispered brokenly, “What do I do?”

A deep, shuddering breath sounded from the bed, drawing the attention of both Kafir and Celestia.

“Nothing.”

Author's Note

I don't even know if I like this one. It's nice to get a bunch of exposition done, though. Now you guys have a bit of an idea about where Marjoram is coming from. And why he hates Kafir.
Don't worry, I'll be moving on in the show's actual plot sometime within the next chapter or two.
Please let me know what you think. I don't bite, honest!

Meeting Fluttershy

Twilight woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs. Peering over at the clock on the night table, she learned it was seven o'clock in the morning. Twilight groaned, but knew that if she wanted a chance at getting some food, she'd have to get up before Spike.

Twilight tiptoed out of the loft, bypassing the library, and entered the kitchen in the back of the building. Celestia was nowhere to be seen, but that was because she had had to return to Canterlot to lower the moon and raise the sun. Marjoram was awake and cooking, a blanket draped over him. Kafir sat at the counter, sipping coffee.

“Hello, Twilight,” Marjoram greeted without turning around, flipping the eggs in the pan, “I'm making them like you like them. Sit down. Join in the fun,” The last statement dripped sarcasm.

Twilight offered a sheepish smile to Kafir, “I-I'm Twilight Sparkle, student of your brother and Celestia.”

Kafir snorted into his coffee, “Never thought you'd teach.”

Marjoram shot Kafir a glare, and Twilight winced at how exhausted her mentor still looked, the dark circles and bags under his eyes worse than usual, his eyes bloodshot. Clearly didn't sleep much after I went to bed.

“Guess we're all full of surprises, aren't we?” Marjoram muttered darkly. He turned his attention to Twilight, “How many eggs does Spike usually eat now? One, two?”

“Two,” Twilight replied automatically, “Celestia says he needs more protein in his diet.”

Marjoram nodded, scooping two portions of eggs onto two plates, then magically set them in front of Kafir and Twilight. Twilight had to stop herself from smiling like an idiot: Marjoram didn't often cook, but he was very good at it. Marjoram cracked two eggs into the pan, and watched them as they cooked, occasionally using the spatula to make sure the bottom of the eggs didn't become burnt.

The toaster beside Marjoram popped, but before Marjoram could do anything, Twilight had the toast floating towards herself and Kafir, and put four more slices into the toaster.

“I'm not hungry,” Marjoram protested.

“It's toast. You're eating it.”

Marjoram sighed, but nodded, “Fine.”

A few minutes later, Spike walked into the kitchen, rubbing his bleary eyes, “Hey, Twilight.”

“Morning Spike. Marjoram is cooking breakfast.”

Spike perked up at that, scrambling to sit at the counter with the ponies, “Really?! Thanks Marjoram!”

“It's not a problem, Spike,” Marjoram offered a tiny, tired smile, dumping Spike's eggs onto a new plate. Marjoram levitated the plate to Spike while Twilight fetched the freshly toasted toast from the toaster, giving Spike his and putting Marjoram's on a smaller plate.
Marjoram lightly buttered his toast, but remained standing, reluctantly eating the toast as he turned the burner off and moved the pan to one side. Seemingly out of spite, Marjoram ate the two pieces of toast quickly, setting the plate in the sink.

“I'm going back to bed. If I'm not awake by then, come get me at noon. We'll start overseeing the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration after I get up.”

“Have a good sleep!” Spike called after Marjoram, “Thanks for breakfast!”

Kafir stood, moving to put his empty plate in the sink, “I should go-”

“No,” Twilight interrupted, “Spike, go finish your comic book when you're done. I need to talk to Kafir.”

Kafir's shoulders slumped. Spike shoveled the last of his breakfast into his mouth, then all but ran back upstairs into the loft.

“How much do you know?” Kafir asked.

“Not a lot of details,” Twilight replied, “Marjoram was already sick when I met him. Carnation had died two years before, and he was already a mortician. He hasn't told me much, and I'd like to hear it from him. All I want to know, was how you never received the letters.”

“I got two,” Kafir protested, “From the letters I got, it sounded like they were fine-”

“That doesn't answer my question, does it?”

Kafir sighed, “I'm...a mercenary, basically. If you can pay me, I'll fight for you, guard you or your things. That requires me to travel a lot. A lot of the time, I don't even see mailponies, because of the dangerous areas I'm in. I was lucky I got the two I got.”

Twilight nodded slowly, “That's it? Because you traveled?”

“In the Badlands, and outside Equestria for a few years. It's hard to get mail to every little settlement in Equestria. I don't envy the mailponies at all; their job is hard.”

Twilight sighed, “I can't believe its that simple.”

Kafir shrugged, “Sometimes shit happens for the simplest reasons. Not much we can do. Anyway, I really should get going. I'll be seeing you around?”

“For the next week,” Twilight replied, “Then we're going back to Canterlot.”

“Of course,” Kafir shot Twilight a crooked, handsome grin, “See you, Twilight.”

Twilight sighed, resting her head against the counter. Why are other ponies so unreliable?

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram awoke, on his own, and was ready to leave the library by noon. Twilight and Spike went over the official checklist of things that needed to be done in the next six days; music, décor, food, and weather. The weather and food would be checked on closer to the celebration, but the décor and music needed to be checked on while there was still time to change things if they needed to be changed.

The walk was slow, and relaxing. Marjoram was stoically ignoring the whispers and glares that were shot his way, preferring to stare at the road ahead with a glare that sent many ponies skirting out of his path. Twilight knew Marjoram was angry, and also knew to stay out of his way until he'd calmed down a little.

Finding the little cottage didn't take much time, as it was perched upon a small hill, and was surrounded by nature and all types of animals. Finding the mare in charge of music took a little longer, eventually finding the pegasus by using Spike's heightened hearing.

The pegasus was yellow, with a pink mane and tail that was so long it brushed the ground. She was directing the birds singing, and seemed oblivious as the trio approached her until Twilight cleared her throat; making the birds scatter and the pegasus jump.

“Sorry,” Twilight stated, “It was very beautiful.”

The pegasus said nothing, her mane covering half of her face, while she looked down at the ground, looking very uncomfortable.

“Uh...anyway, I'm Twilight Sparkle, and this is Marjoram. We're here to make sure you've got the music handled, and from what we just heard, I'd say it's taken care of! What's your name?”

The mare muttered something so quietly that Twilight couldn't hear. She looked questioningly at Marjoram who shrugged.

“Pardon?” Marjoram asked.

All the two ponies heard was a high-pitched squeak. Marjoram shrugged helplessly. Twilight sighed.

“I didn't quite catch that,” Twilight said.

Another high-pitched squeak. Marjoram sighed, “Well, if you have everything under control, we should really be going-”

“Yeah!” Spike agreed, “Maybe we can get some lunch!”

The pegasus gave out a delighted shriek, flying over to Spike so quickly she almost knocked Marjoram to the ground, “Oh! A baby dragon!? I've never seen one before!”

Spike blinked, then looked pleased. He puffed his chest out a little, and straightened up, “Well, I am-”

“And he can talk!?” The pegasus turned to Twilight, “What does he eat? How old is he? Oh, this is so exciting-”

“Um..” Spike interrupted, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything!”

“Well, my name is Spike.”

“Mine's Fluttershy! It's so nice to meet you!”

Spike smiled, and Twilight rolled her eyes. With her magic, Twilight scooped Spike from the ground, and placed him on her back. It was a common sight around Canterlot: Celestia's apprentice and her dragon. Twilight began to walk back toward Ponyville, a sudden sinking feeling growing in her stomach that said the conversation wouldn't end until someone put a stop to it. Marjoram followed, and judging by the look on his face, he'd come to a similar conclusion.

“Can you start from the beginning?” Fluttershy asked, following behind Twilight so she could talk to Spike face to face.

Spike was delighted, “Well, it all started back when I was an egg...”

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram looked over at Twilight, and felt his concern grow. Twilight chafed under the presence of anypony that wasn't himself or Celestia rather quickly, even her own family as much as she loved them, and Fluttershy had been asking Spike questions the entire way back from the edge of the Everfree Forest to Ponyville. It looked like Twilight was going to have a meltdown.

Knowing Fluttershy was completely enamoured with Spike, Majoram moved closer to Twilight's side, “What's rule one?”

“'Mess with my lab and you'll be the next pony I autopsy?'” Twilight quoted back, still looking sullenly toward the ground.

“No! After that?”

“No double-dipping?” Twilight retorted, a small smile gracing her features.

“Twilight, I'm being serious.”

“So am I! Double dipping is a serious problem. Think of all the germs!” Twilight shuddered visibly at the thought.

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “Fine. What's rule one socially?”

“Be polite?” Twilight guessed. At Marjoram's affirmative nod, she grinned, “You really should be more specific. There's a lot of rules!”

Marjoram groaned in exasperation, shaking his head. He spotted Sugarcube Corner, and motioned for Twilight to follow. Once outside the doors to the establishment, Marjoram turned to face Fluttershy, who had ceased her questioning to take a breath.

“Now, Miss. Fluttershy,” Marjoram started before Fluttershy could begin to talk again, “It's been a long morning, and since Spike is just a baby dragon,” Marjoram ignored Spike's indignant cry, “he needs some food and then some sleep. We're going to be checking on you again closer to the Summer Sun Celebration, so you have another chance to talk with Spike.”

Fluttershy nodded, now suddenly looking sheepish, “Thank you...for letting me talk to him for so long.”

Twilight smiled awkwardly, the smile not reaching her eyes, “No problem! Bye!” With that, Twilight practically ran into Sugarcube Corner, Spike clutching onto her back for dear life.

Marjoram sighed, and followed Twilight. Can this afternoon get any stranger?

Author's Note

I know this is short, but I figure you'd appreciate having updates more regularly if the chapters are a little shorter. Please enjoy!

Meeting Pinkie Pie

When Twilight saw Marjoram she knew he was having a bad day. He moved carefully, with slow hesitant steps like he was scared his body would give out any moment. His breathing was audible from across the room, though Twilight had yet to see him cough blood. He had curled up on the couch with a book and his tea, and was currently lost in the pages of a thick, history book.

Spike was exploring their temporary residence: peering inside cupboards, inside closets, and beginning to examine the library's bookshelves at his own pace. It was amusing, watching the dragon get from shelf to shelf. Soon enough, he had a small pile of books he wanted to read for himself, and Spike sat himself down on one of the cushy loveseats near Marjoram before starting on the first book.

Twilight cleaned for the majority of her morning, wanting something to do that took little effort intellectually, but required a bit of focus when it came to manipulating the magic. When Twilight could no longer find anything to clean, she found a book herself, and sat with a steaming cup of warm milk, enjoying the peace and quiet.

This had been relatively common in Canterlot: that the trio would come together and read their own books for hours in each others company without speaking a word. When Twilight and Spike were younger, it had been rare to see the three together without Marjoram giving them some sort of lecture or bringing education into everyday discussions, but as the three had become closer, and the more Marjoram's health failed, they had come together often to read. This gave silent support for everypony, and if they wanted to talk, it was understood they could.

It was mid-afternoon when an excited sounding knock jolted everypony out of their reading. Marjoram set the book down, and went to the door, his brows furrowed in confusion. When the door opened the confusion only grew as the pink earth pony they'd seen the first day came bustling in, a parade of ponies following her.

“Hi!” The pony began, “I'm Pinkie Pie! I'm here to throw you three a 'Welcome to Ponyville' party!”

“Why?” Marjoram asked.

“Because when I saw you, I realized I never saw you before. And since I've never seen you before, I knew you've never been to Ponyville before, and because you've never been to Ponyville before, that means you don't know anypony. If you don't know anypony, that means you don't have any friends, and that can make you lonely, and I didn't want you to be lonely!”-

“Breathe,” Marjoram's own head was spinning at the pitch and speed of the young mare's voice. Hopefully a breath would slow her down-

Pinkie Pie inhaled deeply, then began anew, in the same way as before, “I decided to throw you a party so you can make new friends! I wanted to throw it the first night, but Mrs. Cake said I should give you time to settle, so I planned really hard, and I brought cake and punch and snacks-”

“That's very kind,” Marjoram interrupted again, “but I'm sorry to tell you that we're not staying here after the Sun Celebration-”

Pinkie's bright smile dimmed a little then, but came back, “That's okay! You can have some friends to write to when you go back!”

Marjoram opened his mouth to protest, and to yell at the ponies that now seemed to be making themselves at home, but Twilight cleared her throat. Marjoram took a breath, “Yes, friends. Life's greatest joy,” his voice was dry and dripping with sarcasm.

Pinkie didn't seem to notice. She beamed up at Marjoram, “So, you know who I am! Who are you!?”

“I'm Marjoram, that's Twilight Sparkle, and that's Spike.”

“Hi!” Pinkie dashed off to meet the others, and Marjoram sighed through his nose. Celestia give me strength.

Soon, the library was packed full of unfamiliar ponies, and Marjoram found himself squished onto the couch with Spike and Twilight; both of whom looked uncomfortable, Twilight much more so than Spike.

The ponies that were crowding around the food and drink tables were chatting amicably with each other, music was blaring from a system of speakers Marjoram didn't remember seeing anypony set up. He scanned the crowd, noting that the ponies they'd met already were here: Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy.

Marjoram used his magic to hold his book out of the way, and edged around the crowd to get to the kitchen. It's just like the Grand Galloping Gala. All I have to do is stay out of everypony's way, get my tea, and disappear downstairs-

“Marjoram!”

Marjoram froze, and turned to look at Rarity, who wore an elegant hat and an easy smile. Marjoram lowered the book a little so it looked like he wouldn't purposefully hit somepony.

“How are you?” Rarity asked, “Did I do a good job on your cloak?”

“You did a very good job,” Marjoram replied, wincing at how quiet his voice was in comparison to the volume of the room.

Rarity did manage to hear him, though. She brightened, smiling widely, “Good! I figured I'd done a good enough job, but-”

Marjoram stifled a cough, “Sorry, Rarity. Got to go-”

“But you live here!”

“Kitchen,” Marjoram glowered. Damn manners. I can forgo the rules once.

“I'll accompany you!”

Marjoram had to bite his tongue to stop from groaning. He said nothing, and made his way to the kitchen. Rarity followed. Either the ponies here can't take a hint, or she's being purposefully ignorant to my wishes.

Marjoram boiled water with his magic, making his special tea with a quickness he rarely did unless it was an emergency. Usually, he took his time with the tea. He needed it, but there was no point making his breathing worse in the meantime by rushing around or using magic.

“What kind of tea is that?” Rarity asked, “I don't recognize the smell.”

“It's medicinal,” Marjoram replied shortly, levitating the cup of tea near the book, “For me.”

Rarity nodded slowly, craning to see what Marjoram was trying to get to in one of the cupboards. A muffled cry of victory, and Marjoram reappeared, holding a bottle of some type of alcohol in his mouth.

“There are children here-”

“I'm going downstairs,” Marjoram's magic kept the bottle close to his body, “Goodnight.”

Rarity sputtered, “But the party-”

“That neither Twilight or I wanted.”

“But everypony-”

“Not everypony,” Marjoram glared, “can handle being around big groups of ponies. My health is fragile, and I have little need to surround myself by unfamiliar ponies who will undoubtedly make me ill within an hour.”

Rarity stared, her blue eyes wide, her jaw slack.

“It's nothing personal,” Marjoram said flatly, “If there were less than ten people, I'd stay up here.”

Rarity's face morphed into one of cautious understanding. She nodded, then disappeared back into the crowd. Marjoram sighed in relief, and went downstairs, firmly shutting the door behind him. He set the book on the bed, and the bottle on the beside table. The tea he would drink first, as he'd always been a lightweight-

“Hi!”

Marjoram spun around, his horn flaring with defensive magic.

Pinkie Pie looked nonplussed, smiling widely, “Did you like the party?”

Marjoram had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, “Very much. Please leave,”

“Seriously, did my party make you happy?”

“It made a lot of ponies happy,” Marjoram sat on the edge of his bed, trying to calm himself and drink his tea.

Pinkie approached cautiously, “Are you okay? I didn't notice it earlier, but you're awful skinny-”

“I'm not alright!” Marjoram snapped, “I'm chronically ill! What is so hard to figure out?”

“Sorry, I just-”

“I know,” Marjoram replied harshly, “I haven't been having a good health day. Please, just go,” he was clearly trying to keep the anger out of his voice, but was failing miserably.

Pinkie Pie nodded vigorously, trotting out the door, and shutting it quietly behind her. Marjoram's head hung, and he felt an odd stab of shame raise up. Downing the rest of the tea, Marjoram opened the bottle, sniffing delicately. It smelled of fruit, and alcohol. Lovely. Let's hope I didn't just ruin those mares' night. Carnation was right; I'm an ass.

Taking a tentative sip, Marjoram could appreciate the fruity flavour of the drink, though it burned its way down his throat. It pooled warmly in his stomach. Marjoram cleaned out his teacup magically and poured the alcohol into it. Marjoram tended to drink sparingly, as it made him incredibly drowsy when combined with his tea. However, that was exactly what he wanted: to sleep through the party upstairs.

Marjoram's body ached, and his lungs threatened to act out with little provocation. If I can sleep, I might feel better tomorrow. Drinking the rich liquid slowly, Marjoram listened to the party above him, grimacing at the thought of all the noise and socialization he would have to do if he'd stayed.

Poor Twilight. Marjoram admitted to himself. She's going to be pissed tomorrow. At least Spike will have fun.

Downing the last of the liquid in his cup, Marjoram corked the bottle, and set the cup on the bedside table. The book joined them, as Marjoram tucked himself into bed, and waited for the heady warmth to spread all over his body-

His door crashed open, and Marjoram raised his head, annoyance filling him. He was sleepy, and warm, and peaceful. This never happened to him, and Marjoram didn't want anypony ruining it.

“Oh! Sorry Marjoram,” Spike said quietly, “I didn't realize you were going to bed.”

“What is it?” Marjoram asked, laying his head down again. I swear to Celestia

“Twilight ran upstairs, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“'M good, Spike,” Marjoram slurred, feeling the warmth beginning to seep into his head, “Jus' tired.”

“Okay. Good night,” with that, Spike shut the door, and Marjoram turned the light off with his magic.

Marjoram knew nothing else after that, sinking into a deeper slumber than he could remember having in months.

(LINE BREAK)

Twilight finished her breakfast blearily, noting the mess that she had to clean in the main room of the library. She'd hoped Pinkie Pie would stick around long enough to clean up, and while she did take the food and drinks back home with her after the party broke up, she'd neglected to return everything to its rightful position. Spike was shoveling his food into his mouth with a gusto that reminded Twilight of Shining Armour.

Marjoram was nowhere to be seen, and Twilight was unwilling to go downstairs and risk waking her sleeping mentor right away: if Marjoram actually slept you left him alone, as getting more than an hour or two of true, restful sleep, was rare.

Leaving Spike, Twilight began to clean, using both her magic and her own two hooves. She put furniture back into its proper place, and made sure nopony had messed with the books, before washing the used breakfast dishes and returning to the book she'd abandoned the night before. Spike soon joined her on the couch, snuggling into her side, and reading the second book he'd picked out the previous morning.

Spike preferred comics, he was a child after all, but after growing up around scholars and the Princess of the Sun herself and being a dragon, he could read well past his 'age group'. He may be nine pony years, and only a few years in comparison to dragons, but he was much smarter than many would ever give him credit.

This made it rather interesting when somepony who didn't know him tried to leave Spike out of 'adult' discussions, such as history, politics, current events, and other subjects he was interested in. He could also write rather well for someone his age, evidenced by why Twilight almost always got Spike to write her letters for her. A part of his job, it gave him something to do, and helped him with his literacy skills, something he'd struggled with when he was young, though many wouldn't guess it now.

It was up to Twilight and Marjoram to look after Spike's education, and they were more than happy to ensure Spike got the best education they could provide him, even letting Spike choose from a list of possible subjects every four months. Math and English were mandatory, as well as some basic history, geography, and science. Anything else was up to Spike to pick.

Twilight looked up from her book when Spike tapped her shoulder, annoyed that he'd pulled her away from the interesting book of pony tales, “What?”

“It's almost noon. Should we get Marjoram? It's almost lunch, and we need to get him to eat more.”

“If you want to figure out what you want for lunch, I'll go get him. Meet us in the kitchen. Don't touch anything more than a cookbook!”

Spike nodded, hopping down from the couch, and scampered into the kitchen. Twilight marked her page with a bookmark, and made her way into the basement. Twilight found herself amazed at what she saw.

Marjoram was still fast asleep, snoring lightly. He was buried under a thick comforter, some of his mane had escaped its ponytail, and was spread out across the pillow. The only visible body part that Twilight could see was an ear that poked out from the blankets.

Then Twilight spotted the alcohol. Fear and anger bloomed in her chest, and she wrenched the blankets off of him ruthlessly with her magic, earning a groan and a shiver from the other unicorn.

“What?” Marjoram mumbled, nestling himself further into the mattress, “leave me alone-”

“I'm checking you out, you idiot! You can't be mixing alcohol with your tea-”

“Done it before,” Marjoram grumbled, “Doesn't take much to knock me out,” Marjoram let out a sigh, and sat up, staring at Twilight through bleary, crusty eyes, “Honestly, I'm fine-”

“It's noon!” Twilight thundered, “and you look like you could sleep more-”

“'Get more sleep, Marjoram,'” Marjoram was good at mimicking, and was purposefully doing a bad impression of Twilight to make her angry, “'try to sleep as much as you can, rest is good for you,'”

Twilight rolled her eyes, “Yes, because drugging yourself with a potentially fatal side effect is the way to go about doing that-”

Marjoram shrugged, struggling to get to his feet, “Could be worse. I didn't drink much, barely a full teacup full.”

“Doesn't matter. I'm checking you out before we make lunch.”

“Great,” Marjoram muttered, trudging his way up the stairs, feeling like sompony had shoved cotton into his brain and had made his body feel twice as heavy as it should be. His head felt a little off kilter as well, like he wasn't quite centered on the ground, like it could toss him over if it wanted to.

A familiar feeling sadly, as Marjoram had done this many times before, without Twilight's knowledge or discovery. Marjoram went into the kitchen, and sat at the table, noticing that Spike had picked out a cookbook and was flipping through it idly.

“What are you th'nking 'bout, Spike?” Oh Celestia, maybe the alcohol was stronger than I thought. Why is it so hard to pronounce words?

Twilight sat beside him, a medical kit on the table, and she began to check his vitals with a mix of magic and machine.

“I was hoping for pasta,” Spike replied, “I thought maybe we could all make it together for dinner.”

“What pasta?” Marjoram tried not to jerk away from Twilight. His tongue burned to tell her what he'd discovered years ago: that as long as Marjoram drank more than a few mouthfuls, but less than a small bottle of cider, he would just sleep for a long time.

Spike flipped to a page, pointed at the recipe, and slid it over to Marjoram, “This one, if it's okay.”

Squinting through blurry eyes, Marjoram saw the picture and found himself agreeing with Spike, “Mac and cheese, huh? Haven' had that in a while. What do you th'nk, Twilight? Make two small pans, one for us, and one with some gems for Spike?”

“You have gems?” Spike looked absolutely excited now, “really? Can we, Twilight, please?”

Twilight pulled away from Marjoram, her eyes briefly scanning the recipe, “Sounds pretty simple. Why not?”

Marjoram nodded, “Sounds good...are we eating lunch then?”

“You probably won't,” Twilight responded harshly, “Spike and I will.”

Marjoram offered a small smile, “Done yet?”

“No! I'm making sure your lungs or heart won't stop-”

“Twilight, I'm conscious, talking, and breathing well. I'm fine.”

Twilight glared, but nodded, pulling away, and discontinuing the spells, “I suppose so. Now, what do we need to get to make dinner?”

Marjoram shrugged, “No idea.”

“Wow, you're a lot of help,” Twilight muttered sarcastically, packing everything back into the medical kit.

Marjoram offered a sly smile, “I know,”

Twilight huffed, “C'mon, grab the cookbook. We'll buy everything we need at the store. You too, Spike!”

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram lay spread out on the couch, a pillow under his head, and a blanket draped over him. The shopping had gone well, but coupled with the effects of the alcohol/tea and the bad day he'd had the day before, it had exhausted him.

Twilight and Spike were playing a card game, using the coffee table to hold the deck, their drinks, and the book Marjoram had tried to read before giving up and going back to sleep. Twilight, while worried about potential long term consequences of the alcohol, couldn't suppress the feeling of relief that came with the knowledge Marjoram was actually sleeping.

“I win!” Spike exclaimed, throwing down the two pairs of matching cards on the table, “You shouldn't have given me that three, Twilight!”

Twilight shook her head, “How are you so good at these? Do you have a strategy or something?”

Spike shrugged, “Maybe I just have better luck than you do.”

Twilight shook her head, “Do you want to go figure out what gems you want in your pasta? It's going to be a few hours before dinner, so you can have a couple if you want.”

Spike beamed at Twilight, showing off his sparkling, sharp white teeth, “Okay! Thanks, Twilight!”

“Don't eat too many! Remember, you want to have lots of them in your pasta!”

Spike scampered into the kitchen, leaving Twilight alone with her sleeping mentor, who hadn't stirred at all. Twilight sighed, packed up the cards, and sat back, watching as Marjoram shifted a little in his sleep, nestling into the soft pillow further.

We'll make dinner, maybe play one of the board games Spike found earlier, probably read. Then, we have one more day of rest, then we have to check the weather and food. That night, we'll stay up, and go home with Celestia when she goes back to Canterlot

Twilight smiled at the idea of returning to Canterlot: she missed her books, she missed her parents, and she missed Celestia. She didn't mind Ponyville, but the constant barrage of strangers trying to become her friend was starting to wear thin. I wonder if Celestia put them up to it.

It wouldn't surprise Twilight very much if that were the case.

Applejack

Marjoram plodded along slowly beside Twilight, looking around at the large apple orchards that surrounded the road, “How far away is this 'Sweet Apple Acres'?”

“Not too far,” Spike replied from his perch on Twilight's back, “The Cakes said the farm isn't too far away from the edge of town.”

Marj oram nodded, “Thank goodness. I never thought I'd say this again, but I'm hungry.”

Spike clutched at his chest with a dramatic gasp, “Really? I don't think I've ever heard you say that!”

“Someone check on Tartarus! It has to be frozen over,” Twilight teased.

Marjoram offered a shy smile, looking uncomfortable with the teasing. The trio crested a hill, and saw the farm spread out in a clearing in between the fields of trees. A table was nestled in between some trees, and many ponies were milling around the farm, talking and laughing.

Marjoram and Twilight shared an uneasy look, but went down to the farm anyway. Off to one side, an orange mare with a stetson hat, was bucking apples off of an apple tree. Twilight, unsure of who to approach first, remembered seeing her at the party Pinkie had held.

“Hello. I'm Twilight Sparkle, this is Marjoram, and this is Spike. We were sent from Canterlot to-”

“Howdy, y'all! I'm Applejack! It's nice to meet you!” Applejack shook hooves vigorously with all three off them, “We here at the farm really enjoy making new friends!”

“Friends?” Marjoram had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, “We were sent by Celestia to check on the food.”

“Y'are? Do you want to sample some?”

Spike's stomach growling answered for them. Applejack galloped to a rusted, metal triangle, and rang it, “SOUP'S ON, EVERYPONY!”

All of the ponies Twilight had seen earlier rushed over, hooves catching them, and carrying them to the table nestled in between the trees. Marjoram looked dizzy, Spike looked like he'd enjoyed the experience, and Twilight looked completely nervous.

“Why don't I introduce y'all to the Apple family? This is our reunion, and everypony is helping me cater!” Applejack announced proudly.

As each of the dozens of ponies stepped up to the table to be introduced, they set down an apple related good; from pie, to fritters, to candy apples. The array and vast quantity of food both amazed and terrified Twilight. Sadly, Applejack was listing off each pony so quickly that Twilight had a snowball's chance in Tartarus to catch any of the names.

Applejack inhaled deeply, “...and finally, there's Big Macintosh, Apple Bloom, and Granny Smith!” She gestured to a massive, red coated stallion, a little yellow filly, and an old, green mare.

Marjoram stared wide-eyed at the vast array of expectant ponies. He stared over at Twilight, and saw she looked about as spooked as he felt. Good to know.

Applejack cleared her throat respectfully, “Dig in! It's gotta be brunch by now!”

Apple Bloom looked up at them with big, tear filled eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly. Twilight and Marjoram shared a look as Spike began to eat eagerly, moaning in pleasure at the vast array of apple-related food. Marjoram reluctantly began to eat first, though once the food touched his tongue, he did pick up the pace a little. It didn't take long for Twilight to follow suit.

Half an hour later, and Marjoram was forced into taking a box of leftovers back to the library with him; on the premise that he was 'so skinny a stiff breeze could knock him over'. Twilight's, Spike's, and Marjoram's stomachs were packed with more food than they were used to, and it showed. Marjoram looked the most uncomfortable, as almost every Apple had tried to force feed him one food item or another.

“I ate too much pie,” Twilight whimpered.

“I should have said no ten minutes in,” Marjoram replied, head low to the ground, wincing at every step he took, “It was good, but by the Creators I'm going to have a stomach ache all day.”

“We just have to check the weather!” Spike said brightly, using his claws to shield his eyes to peer up at the sky, “And look! Rainbow Dash already cleared the skies! We just have to find her, and double check!”

Marjoram muttered a curse under his breath, and Twilight whole-heartedly agreed; though she did so silently.

Spike pointed, “Oh look, there she is! Hey, Rainbow Dash!”

The cyan pegasus looked down, slowed down, and flew over to them. Taking a hard look at the trio, she giggled, “Applejack?”

“Oh yeah,” Twilight said, “Just wanted to make sure you've got the weather under control.”

“Of course I do! I'm the best weather pony this side of Cloudsdale!” Rainbow boasted, smiling widely.

“Thank you!” Spike waved.

“I'm going back to the library,” Marjoram said, “And I'm going to read until I fall asleep. You're welcome to join me.”

“I'm coming,” Twilight intoned, “C'mon, Spike. Good job, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow offered a mock salute, and flew off.

Marjoram sighed. Just one night, then back home.

Nightmare Moon Finale

How could be possible? Was the dominating question swirling around Marjoram's head as he stared up at Nightmare Moon.

Celestia was gone, vanished sometime before Nightmare's public return. The ponies near him were shaking in their horseshoes, pressed against each other, and too scared to do anything. Twilight seemed caught between action and stagnation, unsure of herself and unsure of what action to take.

Marjoram's second thought was: how do I protect them?

“...The night will last forever!” Nightmare moon threw her head back at the conclusion of her speech, laughing maniacally.

Marjoram closed his eyes, focusing hard on the most advanced magics he knew. What can I do? The answer came back a millisecond later: not much. Nothing he could cast would work against an alicorn. However, that didn't mean that Marjoram wouldn't try.

Marjoram tugged deeply at both the magic reserve in his body, and at the magic in the area. Channeling it into a show of dazzling light, and directing it into a high-energy beam of pure energy and light. If directed at anypony else, the simple energy alone would be enough to kill them.

Marjoram hoped that he could distract Nightmare Moon enough to allow Twilight and Spike to escape. If not,

Directing the energy at Nightmare Moon, Marjoram let all of the magic go, filling it with all of the emotions that were swirling around his chest. The beam hit Nightmare Moon with the force to take down a building.

Nightmare shielded herself with her wings, but the force of his magic forced her to slide back several feet, and caused the surrounding area to scorch a bit. Once Marjoram ran out of magic, his knees gave, and he found himself on the cold ground, staring up at Nightmare and unable to even move.

Through blurry, half-closed eyes, Marjoram watched as the last few ponies fled Town Hall, and Nightmare Moon stalked over, a smug smirk tugging at her lips.

“Well, that was impressive,” Her sultry voice held a note of curiosity, “Did Celestia teach you? I can feel her magic all over you. You reek of her light.”

Marjoram couldn't do much but cough weakly, refusing to look away from the mare that towered above him. Nightmare smiled, a sickly smile that made Marjoram shiver in response. Dark blue magic centered around Nightmare's horn, then wrapped Marjoram in its embrace, freezing him in place both literally and figuratively. Marjoram's heart skipped a beat, his lungs froze up in a series of coughing that splattered the nearby ground with blood.

Nightmare's face contorted in disgust, and she rolled her eyes. Her magic flared again, and Marjoram knew no more, hearing Nightmare's maniacal laughter fade as he fell unconscious.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram woke with a start, adrenaline rushing through his system. There was three things he noticed: it was nighttime, he was alone, and he could breathe without pain. The first two didn't startle him, the third thing made him pause, breathing in the cool night air in a way he hadn't been able to do since he was a teen. It was odd, it was terrifying, and it was exhilarating all at once.

Then Marjoram remembered: Nightmare Moon, Celestia, Twilight.

Marjoram jumped to his feet, and galloped as fast as he could to the library, hoping Twilight and Spike were there, or at least they were somewhere safe. Almost breaking down the door in his haste, Marjoram found the library in complete and utter chaos.

One book was help open on a desk. The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide. Eyes skimming the page, Marjoram found what he was looking for: the last known location of the Elements; the Everfree Forest.

Marjoram ran out of the library, galloping toward the edge of town, out of breath rather quickly, but able to actually run without coughing blood was something almost foreign to him. Using a spell to track Twilight, Marjoram burst through the trees, and began to follow the narrow paths through the dark forest.

It took a while, but eventually, Marjoram found a wooden footbridge that led through a thick fog, into what looked like the ruins of the castle the book mentioned. The bridge was rickety, but Marjoram didn't think about that: he ran across the bridge and into the ruins.

Breath wheezing in his chest, his legs aching, and his teeth jarring with every step he took, he ran past the main foyer, past the throne room, and up a set of stairs. He could see lights, could feel magic, and he was terrified. Not for himself, not because of what Nightmare Moon could have done to him, but because what she could do to Twilight.

What Marjoram stumbled across was both amazing and terrifying.

There was Twilight, standing closer to Nightmare Moon than the others, looking proud and amazed.

“...the spirits of the Elements of Harmony are right here!” Crystals that lay broken at Nightmare Moon's feet became enchanted with the colours of the rainbow. Nightmare Moon looked startled and unsure.

“Applejack, who reassured me when I was in doubt, represents the Element of Honesty!”

Some of the crystals swirled around Applejack, but seemed to leave her alone for the moment.

“Fluttershy, who tamed the manticore with her compassion, represents Kindness!” More crystals separated from the bunch still floating near Nightmare Moon's feet, swirling around Fluttershy.

Manitcore? I'm going to have to have words with Twilight after all this is done! Marjoram felt his heart rate quicken.

"Pinkie Pie, who banished fear by giggling in the face of danger, represents Laughter!” Pinkie bounced up, looking excited and truly pleased. The crystals surrounding her seemed to keep her in one place, thankfully.

“Rarity, who calmed a sorrowful serpent with a meaningful gift, represents Generosity!”

Marjoram realized that Rarity's tail was much shorter than before, something that made him wince a little. Her tail was still gorgeous, though he would doubt many would see it that way. The crystals that swirled around her were clearly welcome, judging by the easy body language Rarity was dislplaying.

“-and Rainbow Dash, who couldn't abandon her her friends, even when faced with her heart's desire, represents Loyalty! The spirits of these five ponies got us through every challenge you've thrown at us tonight!”

“You still don't have the sixth Element!” Nightmare Moon challenged, hysteria tinging her voice, “the spark didn't work!”

“But it did!” Twilight retorted, her body language confident and brave, “A different kind!” Twilight turned to face the five ponies, apparently not seeing Marjoram at all, “The second I realized you were coming for me, I realized how happy I was to hear you, to see you. I realized how much I care about all of you. The spark ignited inside me, when I realized that you all are my friends!”

Since when!? What did I miss? Marjoram felt confused. How long had he been unconscious? What had he missed that made Twilight friends with these strangers?

Twilight turned to face Nightmare moon again, and a shining rock appeared above her, proudly displaying her Cutie Mark. Marjoram felt frozen, unable to move. Twilight, please! We don't know anything about these Elements! We don't know these ponies! This could be a trap!

“You see, Nightmare Moon, when these Elements are united by the spark, the spark that resides in everypony, it creates the sixth Element. The Element of Magic!”

The rock hovering above Twilight's head began to shine so brightly that Marjoram had to avert his gaze. In front of him, each of the six mares were floated into the air, and the crystals disappeared from his sight. Marjoram could see the Element that had hovered above Twilight turn into a magnificent crown, also bearing her Cutie Mark, and the group was gently forced to hover near each other, white magic erupting from them to form a rainbow.

Nightmare Moon screamed as the beam encompassed her, looking truly terrified before another white light made Marjoram have to shut his eyes to keep from being blinded. The second Nightmare Moon's screaming stopped, Marjoram's lungs seemingly filled with cobwebs again, forcing him to his knees. When the light dissipated, Marjoram looked up to find all six girls on the stone floor, possibly unconscious.

“Twilight?” Marjoram whispered brokenly, forcing himself to his feet, and standing over Twilight's body. The shining gold and purple crown was beautiful, but Marjoram only had eyes for Twilight, “Please, Twilight...Wake up.”

Rainbow Dash groaned, “Oh...y head,” She stood, wincing and rubbing at her skull.

“Everypony okay?” Applejack asked.

Twilight stirred, and Marjoram bent down, casting spells to ensure that she was actually all right.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Rarity exclaimed.

“Oh, Rarity, it's so lovely!” Fluttershy said quietly.

“I know! I'm never parting with it again!” Rarity hugged her tail, which had been restored to its former glory.

“No, I meant your necklace. It looks like your Cutie Mark!”

“Oh! So does yours!”

“Look at mine!” Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing over to Rarity and Fluttershy.

“Ha ha!” Rainbow exclaimed, “This is totally awesome!” She thrust out her chest to show off her own necklace, which was shaped like her Cutie Mark.

Twilight pulled away from Marjoram, standing up. Marjoram followed, clearly worried.

“Gee, Twilight,” Applejack murmured, “I thought you were spouting a bunch of nonesense. But, I think you were telling the truth! We do represent the Elements of Friendship!”

“Indeed you do,” Clouds parted to the East, and Celestia's comforting voice came from nowhere. The sun rose, and the moon lowered in the sky. A ball of white light appeared, and when it touched the ground, Celestia stood in its place.

“Thank the Creators,” Marjoram murmured, “Princess, you're alright!”

“Twilight, Marjoram! My faithful students, I knew you could do it!” Celestia's gaze was warm, but then she noticed Marjoram's bare chest. Her brows furrowed briefly.

“I tried to stop Nightmare by myself back at the Town Hall,” Marjoram murmured, “I-I had to protect Spike and Twilight, give them a chance-” Marjoram took a breath, “Did I slow her down any? I-I lost consciousness afterward. Where is Spike!?” Marjoram's eyes widened, and he looked around frantically.

Twilight let out a nervous chuckle, “He's back at the library. He was up all night, and was so tired he fell asleep after Nightmare Moon appeared. He's okay,”

Marjoram sat heavily on the dusty floor, letting out a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness.”

“Didn't I tell you that making friends was a good idea?” Celestia intoned quietly.

“I didn't until tonight, not really,” Twilight murmured in reply, “I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize that making friends was so important.”

Celestia offered a small smile, “It's alright, Twilight. You couldn't have known, and besides, you did admirably. I saw the signs, and knew you'd be important for what's to come. I knew you had the magic inside of you to defeat her, and that you wouldn't be able to unleash your magic until you let true friendship into your heart.”

Marjoram felt his heart sink to his hooves. What are Spike and I, then?

“Now,” Celestia turned to the shattered remains of Nightmare Moon. Marjoram now noticed that a young mare, an alicorn, lay in the wreckage, “If somepony else will do the same.”

Marjoram stared at the cowering younger pony, wondering what in the hay was going on. He pushed aside the ball of feelings that lay in his chest, and turned his full attention to Celestia.

“Princess Luna, it has been a thousand years since I've seen you like this. Don't you think its time to put aside our differences and rule together, as we were meant to? Little sister?”

Marjoram felt his heart freeze for a moment. He knew he was staring, slack-jawed at the pair now kneeling on the ground.

“I lost my sister once, a very long time ago.”

That was what Celestia had told him, years ago, weeks after Carnation had died. She'd comforted him with half-lies and semi-truths? Marjoram felt the breath whoosh from his lungs, and he sat down hard, staring at the sight before him, but not seeing.

Marjoram listened through ears that felt like they were stuffed with cotton, and watched through eyes that seemed incapable of processing what was in front of him, as Princess Luna ran to her sister, sobbing, crying apologies into Celestia's pristine, white coat.

A purple hoof waved itself in front of Marjoram, the quickness and closeness of the movement forcing Marjoram back into himself, “What?” He snapped irritably.

Twilight wrapped her fore-hooves around Marjoram in a tight embrace that Marjoram hadn't been expecting, “Oh, thank goodness you're alright! I was so scared Nightmare Moon would do something to you after you attacked her like that-”

“Sh-she did,” Princess Luna sniffled, wiping at her muzzle with a hoof, “I don't know what.”

“I'm alright,” Marjoram stated coolly, “I-I'm okay.”

Celestia looked like she didn't believe him, but nodded slowly, “Alright. If anything is wrong, you can write me anytime.”

Marjoram nodded dully, “I know.”

Twilight looked back at her friends, then back to Celestia, “Do-do I have to go back to Canterlot with you? I mean, I just found some friends-”

Marjoram winced away from Twilight, forcing himself to remain cool and collected. She's found better friends than you, see? She doesn't need you anymore. Marjoram's inner self berated himself for befriending Twilight in the first place.

The look on Celestia's face was considerate, “Well, you can remain in Ponyville, and continue your studies on both magic and friendship. You could write a weekly report.”

“Really?!” Twilight looked beyond pleased. She looked over to Marjoram, “Could he stay, too?”

Marjoram sputtered, “Twilight, I-the morgue-”

“Can be moved over here. From what I understand, it would be far easier to have a mortician out here, to provide for Ponyville, Cloudsdale, and many of the outlying villages, than having everypony come to Canterlot,” Celestia interjected, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Ugh! You're a mortician? Gross!” Rainbow gagged, wincing in disgust.

Marjoram rolled his eyes, used to the reaction, “I suppose so, Princess. Twilight, you should come with me. You have to pack, and have to tell your parents.”

Twilight's ears drooped, “I suppose so.”

Rarity cleared her throat, “Can we please leave? This room's décor is horrible!”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, and began to make his way down the stairs, noting that he felt cold once more.

Moving to Ponyville and Tickets for the Gala

It took Twilight only two days to pack up her things, say goodbye to her parents and to the palace staff. It took Marjoram almost a week to get his things packed and transported. Almost an entire day was spent wandering the streets of Canterlot, saying goodbye to the various buildings, shop-owners, and other places Marjoram had grown attached to during his life in Canterlot.

That evening, Marjoram bought flowers, and went to the cemetery that was in the palace grounds. On autopilot, he found Carnation's grave, and lay the flowers near the base. The stone was marble, enchanted by Celestia's magic. It was of average size, but Carnation wouldn't have wanted anything big or flashy. The stone suited her, as Celestia had taken Carnations wishes to heart. The stone read:

Carnation. Beloved sister.

Those three words would never do her justice, but Celestia had had to choose, as Marjoram had practically gone catatonic after watching Carnation take her last. When Celestia had finally gotten him out of himself, months had passed. Marjoram didn't want to change what Celestia had so kindly given. Besides, it wasn't as if the engraving was wrong.

Marjoram sat down in front of the gravestone, gathering his thoughts, “So...I'm leaving Canterlot for a while. Twilight, Spike, and I are going to live in Ponyville,” Marjoram let out a bitter chuckle, “She found friends, She doesn't even know these mares, and she's changing everything in order to live near them. She's known some of them for less than a week. I'm worried, Carnation. What if something happens?”

The graveyard was silent of course, but Marjoram felt better just by voicing his concerns out loud.

“I know I'm being petty. I know I am, but this is all so sudden. Twilight wouldn't have come back to Canterlot at all if it weren't for me suggesting she she should pack. What if she hurts herself because she can't live up to the unreal expectations she has for herself? Because she's only read about friendship in books?” Marjoram's lip curled, “I think she thinks of me as family, not a friend. How sad is that, Carnation? I got another sister,” Marjoram's voice cracked.

“I think you'd like her, Twilight, I mean. At the very least, you'd have liked Shining Armour. He's Captain of the Royal Guard now, did I tell you that? Engaged too, to Celestia's cousin or something. Name's Cadence, I think. I think she used to foalsit Twilight when she was younger. I hope it works out.”

“Anyway...Celestia got her sister back...Princess Luna. She's nice enough, I suppose. Awkward, but she's been by herself on the moon for a thousand years. You can't blame her for that. If there was a way for me to get you back, I'd keep it quiet until it was a success, too. And no, I'm not going to try that again. I almost lost myself trying to bring you back, and I've learned my lesson since then...so yeah. Celestia's been happy, and the night has never been so beautiful. I wish you could see it, it's much nicer than Celestia's.”

Wind rustled through the trees that surrounded the graveyard. Marjoram sighed, bringing his head closer to the gravestone, “On the bright side, I've got my own separate building for the lab and morgue. It's right near the library too, beside a quill shop. A little odd, but I'm right near the hospital and police station too. A lot easier, if you get my meaning. I've already had a few calls, so I'm going to have some work for me when I head back.”

Marjoram was silent for a few minutes, before he heaved a sigh, “I'm scared, Carnation. I'm scared about whatever Nightmare Moon did to me. I feel...as well as I get, but when I woke up this morning, everything hurt for a few moments. It wasn't horrible, maybe it's just me overreacting to the normal stuff. I-I just hope that we can figure it out before it gets too bad. Maybe she just wanted me to taste freedom from my condition because she knew she wouldn't survive much longer.”

Marjoram stood, brushing himself off with his magic, “Anyway, I should be going. I'll be back for our birthday, alright? And Hearth's Warming. Probably a few times in between, too. I don't want Celestia thinking we've abandoned her.”

Looking around, and finding he was still alone, Marjoram caressed the top of the gravestone with a hoof, “I'll be back, I promise. Love you, sis. Sleep well,” Marjoram's voice cracked again, and he turned and left as quickly as his body allowed.

(LINE BREAK)

Setting up his lab and morgue was more painstaking than Marjoram could have guessed. It was hard enough to deal with the stares and whispers of the ponies, and even harder to deal with the small acts of vandalism that occurred as he was still unpacking, but none of it was surprising.

Being a mortician in a society that was largely peaceful, where most ponies couldn't dream of touching a corpse much less handling one for a living, where ponies didn't see the usefulness of the profession, was interesting to say the least. Working with the bodies of the dead was seen as disgusting, taboo. Being an outsider who was clearly not interested in anypony's company just compounded the problem.

However, the moment Marjoram let the populace know his doors were open, he began to work on the backlog that had built up during the time he hadn't been working. Even as he worked, he got calls from outlaying villages and towns. All of them inquiring about how quickly he could work, his rate, and how far away the clients would have to be before he turned them down.

Soon enough, he made a name for himself. He was reputable in many professional circles: doctors, police, and funeral homes all praised him for the work he did. Everypony else was soon terrified of him for various reasons. Some said he was evil, killing ponies then earning money by giving out false causes of death. Some said he was from somewhere exotic, despite his lack of accent, and that false fact somehow made it okay to fear and hate him.

Canterlot was a big enough city where the ponies didn't often care for prejudice. Ponies were brought up multicultural communities. But in Ponyville, that was rarely put into practice, as most ponies were from Ponyville or the surrounding area. The vast majority of the populace were Earth Ponies, then Unicorns, and there was a smattering of Pegasi. Less than 300 ponies were from farther away than Canterlot, or from outside Equestria itself. It was annoying, but Marjoram remembered what it felt like to be one of two unicorns in an entire village. It would be a lie to say it didn't bother him, but it was a situation he was used to.

One morning, almost two weeks after Princess Luna's return, Marjoram got the automatic letter that he received every year. He knew it was automatic, because unlike the invitation he received every year, the 'sorry you didn't attend' letter wasn't written by Celestia herself.

We here at the Canterlot Palace extend our best wishes to Marjoram, as he failed to attend the Grand Galloping Gala last night. Marjoram snorted, tossing the letter in the trash. The yearly event occurred a few weeks after the Summer Sun Celebration, and after attending his first one at age 17, Marjoram had declined every year since. The Gala was full of pretentious ponies, where you couldn't hear yourself think, much less have a meaningful conversation with anypony. Heaven forbid you speak above a whisper on the dance floor, and everywhere else was busy and/or loud. When talking above a whisper was a strain on the lungs, it was sheer stupidity to go to the Gala, where no one could hear you at all.

However, that didn't mean Celestia wasn't going to invite him anyway. Marjoram blew a strand of hair away his eye. The invitation will come in the next day or so, then. Why she sends invitations so early, I'll never guess.

Marjoram shuffled through some paperwork, absentmindedly filling some of them out. I've just got that pie-related death left, then. Probably drowned in that vat of pie filling. I've got to check for defensive wounds, and clean the pie filling off of him...ugh. Let's hope Applejack doesn't want me to eat any more pie for a while.

The office door opened, allowing Twilight entry. She held a basket in her teeth, and a smile on her face. She set the basket on the desk, “How's everything going? Finish the backlog yet?”

“Almost. Just the pie filling accident one left.”

Twilight nodded, “Do you want to join the girls and I for a picnic near Fluttershy's?”

Marjoram cast a glance at the file of the dead pony, then nodded, “Yes please. This one isn't going to be fun to do. I can use a break.”

Twilight smiled wider, “Good. I've got enough sandwiches for everyone, so you should be good.”

Marjoram nodded, “Yeah. Let me grab my cloak, and we'll go.”

(LINE BREAK)

When Marjoram and Twilight got to the picnic spot, everypony was already there waiting. Rainbow looked annoyed at Marjoram's attendance, but the others didn't seem to openly mind.

“Spike beg off?” Marjoram asked softly.

“Yeah,” Twilight smiled, “When I left he was looking at some cake recipes. He found a book about recipes that use gems.”

“That'll be nice,” Marjoram replied. He gave a nod in greeting to Twilight's friends before making himself comfortable. Rarity sat to his left, and Twilight to his right.

“How's business?” Applejack asked cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

Marjoram shrugged, “About as good as it gets. I'm almost done with the backlog, and I haven't gotten any calls from anywhere else.”

“Pardon me for asking,” Rarity said daintily, pouring seven cups of tea, and using her magic to give a delicate teacup to everpony, “but does this often happen? Backlogs, then nothing, I mean?”

“Sometimes,” Marjoram replied evenly, “Usually with group accidents, murders, and the like. It's rare I have a large number of single casualties like I did this week.”

Applejack nodded, sipping at her tea, “The farm's been good,” she offered. Marjoram sipped at his own tea, unsure of what to say.

Rainbow let out a dramatic sigh, “Are we going to eat or what? I'm starving.”

A flurry of activity and magic as everypony served themselves some lunch. Marjoram watched in both fascination and disgust at Pinkie Pie smothered her daisy sandwich in hot sauce, then swallowing it whole.

Twilight sure knows how to pick them. Marjoram noted idly, eating the sandwich absentmindedly. Silence fell as the seven ponies ate for a few minutes.

“Do you ever actually meet somepony who's alive in your line of work?” Rainbow asked brazenly.

Rarity choked on her tea, and Marjoram offered Rainbow a sardonic smile, “Of course I do. Sometimes I meet family and friends. I speak with the police, and sometimes the hospital staff. It all depends on who wants the autopsy done.”

“How gross is it?”

“Not very,” Marjoram replied blandly, finishing off the sandwich. He took a muffin, clearly made by Applejack or one of her family members, “with the right training. I've trained for this since I was eight.”

“Your parents let you train to become a mortician?” Rarity asked, her eyes wide.

“Oh no. They were long gone by then, and Kafir was off on one of his paying stints of work. Celestia didn't see the harm in it, so I learned.”

“You cut a body up when you were eight?!” Rainbow exclaimed.

Marjoram sighed, counting to ten in his head, “No. I didn't. I didn't even see a dead body until I was ten. I didn't handle anything until I was thirteen. And that was only parts, to make sure I had the right magical touch for the job. I didn't handle a body by myself until I was...sixteen, seventeen?”

The look on Rainbow's face was a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Twilight cleared her throat pointedly, and Rarity closed her mouth. Applejack began to eat again, and Pinkie nodded vigorously.

“Is it your special talent?” Pinkie asked.

“No. I just happen to be good at it through years of study and work.”

“So, what's your special talent? If you don't mind me asking, of course,” Fluttershy muttered into her teacup.

“Magic,” Marjoram replied, “I found out that magic was what I was supposed to do when I was very young.”

“What happened?” Pinkie asked, slurping down another cup of tea, and picking up her third muffin from the basket.

“I almost burnt down my house, with myself and my family inside,” Marjoram admitted slowly, “By accident, of course.”

“You told me about this!” Twilight said brightly, “When you first became my teacher. When I killed that plant.”

Marjoram nodded, “Yes. It was the first time I performed magic on purpose. It was exhilarating, and not scary until after I realized what I'd done.”

“Your family was alright, right?” Applejack asked.

“Yes. They died later,” Marjoram replied flatly.

An uneasy silence fell upon the group. Marjoram sighed through his nose.

“If you must know, my father died in an accident a few weeks later. My mother starved to death shortly after.”

“How?” Rainbow asked, face twisted in horror, “Didn't you have any food?”

Marjoram shrugged, pushing the remains of the muffin away, his mouth tasting of ashes, “We couldn't get her to eat after father died. She just wouldn't, no matter what I tried.”

“How old were you?” Applejack breathed.

“Just turned six,” Marjoram replied quietly, downing the last of his tea, “I don't suppose we can change the subject?”

There was a beat of silence, before Pinkie Pie jumped up from her spot, a huge smile on her face, “I think these muffins are the best Granny Smith have ever made!”

Rarity nodded in agreement, “Yes. They're exquisite.”

Marjoram nodded, pouring himself another cup of tea. He downed it in almost one go, looked up at the sun, and got to his feet, “I hate to cut this short, ladies, but I have one more autopsy to go before I'm done. I can probably get it done before dinner, Twilight. Do you want me to pick up some more gems for Spike? I can probably bake with him tomorrow if you're busy.”

Twilight smiled, “I think he'd like that! Go on, go get the job done.”

Marjoram nodded, “Thank you for having me. I hope the rest of your picnic goes well.”

Pinkie shoved a muffin at Marjoram, “Here! Take this with you!”

Marjoram used his magic to float the muffin close to him, “Why are you Ponyville ponies so invested in getting me to eat so much?”

“Because you're so darned skinny!” Applejack teased.

Marjoram had to remind himself that they didn't really know anything about his condition yet. That they didn't know how hard it was to eat one meal a day much less anything else. Marjoram sighed, and left, walking back down the packed dirt road back to Ponyville.

They have to know what's wrong with you by now. They had days alone with Twilight. Who knows what she could have told them. The niggling voice that plagued Marjoram constantly taunted. Marjoram had major trust issues, and most of the time Marjoram could beat back the criticism he often doled out upon himself and others with relative ease. However, with the move to Ponyville, and all the stress of Nightmare Moon, the move to Ponyville, and setting up the morgue, had made it more difficult to keep his insecurities at bay.

Marjoram shook his head vigorously to clear it, picking up the pace a little. If I can get away for a bit, maybe my head will be clearer for tomorrow. It's been a while since I've spent some time alone with Spike. Maybe we'll make a day of it. I can teach him Carnation's recipe for chocolate/peanut butter cookies!

Marjoram felt lighter at the thought already. I'll pick up the ingredients on the way home from the morgue. Then Spike and I can figure out what we want to make, and we can grab whatever is missing in the morning.

Marjoram made it back to the morgue, and finished the autopsy in record timing. The sun was barely beginning to set, and though Marjoram didn't even want to go near pie in the near future, made his way to the market. There, he picked up gems, and ingredients for the chocolate/peanut butter cookies. After that, he headed to the library.

Spike was watching as Twilight cooked dinner, asking questions as he did so. Spike wanted to learn how to use the stove, but Twilight was still unsure. Marjoram figured that Spike would be very good at it; Spike had had an interest in food and its preparation since just before his eighth birthday. He was quickly approaching his tenth birthday, and Marjoram couldn't see the harm in letting him use the oven when there were adults nearby.

Twilight brightened up when she saw Marjoram, “Hey! How'd the last autopsy go?”

Marjoram shrugged, setting the bags of ingredients on the counter, “About as good as it can go. It was just an accident. Looks like he just slipped on that walkway, fell into that vat of pie filling and couldn't get out. Poor bastard.”

“Language!” Twilight chastised, pointing at Marjoram with the wooden spoon she was using.

Spike giggled, and Marjoram rolled his eyes. He sat on the stool beside Spike, “What are you making?”

“Pasta!” Spike exclaimed excitedly, “She's going to show me how to strain the noodles.”

Marjoram nodded, “What are you doing tomorrow, Spike?”

Spike tapped a claw against his chin, “Hmm… I dunno. What are we doing tomorrow, Twilight?”

Twilight giggled, stirring the sauce with her wooden spoon, “Not much, Spike.”

Spike looked to Marjoram, with curiosity shining in his eyes.

“Do you want to bake with me tomorrow?” Marjoram asked, “I thought we could try one of the gem recipes you found-”

“Really?!” Spike clasped his paws together, eyes wide, and a huge smile tugging on his face, “Of course I would!”

Marjoram nodded, “Alright then. We'll make a day of it. Figure out which recipe you want to do, and we can get anything we're missing tomorrow morning.”

Twilight shook her head, but the slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement, “Are you eating?” She asked Marjoram, setting the colander in the sink.

Marjoram shook his head, “No. If I'm baking tomorrow, I'm just going to drink my tea and go to bed.”

Twilight nodded, “Alright. Spike this is how you strain the pasta, see?”

“Oh. That's really simple.”

“Told you it was,” Twilight giggled, “Give me a minute, Marjoram, and I can get out of your way so you can make tea.”

A few minutes later, Marjoram had his tea, and was sitting in bed reading. He didn't fall asleep for a very long time.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram had been having a good morning. Yes, he'd woken up to a full body ache, but that wasn't unheard of. Spike had left him a letter saying that Applejack needed help, and that he'd be back by lunchtime. As Marjoram had made his morning tea, a package came from Sea Shores.

The package contained a few of her cheese croissants, and a long letter detailing how she had been, how the new staff was working out, and how much she missed his midnight visits. Marjoram couldn't help but smile softly.

Sea Shores had been just starting out as a cook when Marjoram and Carnation had moved into the palace. She had been in her late teens, and couldn't stand by and watch the twins go without some type of mother figure. She'd gotten close to Carnation first, then Marjoram through patience and sweets. When Carnation had died, Sea Shores had been the last pony Marjoram had viewed as family beyond Celestia.

After catching up on Sea Shores' news, Marjoram sat down to write a reply, and had gotten almost half-way through when he heard the commotion in the library. He abandoned his letter in favour of going downstairs, and finding Fluttershy and Twilight deep in conversation.

“Yes. We are just doing this for the ticket,” Fluttershy stated simply, smiling a little.

Twilight let out an exasperated groan, “No, no! I'm not accepting any favours until after I've made my decision!” Twilight opened the library door, “So I'm going to ask you to leave.”

A rain of confetti came from outside, and Marjoram heard Pinkie, and a bunch of strangers, yell, “Surprise!”

Hooves reached into the library, pulling Twilight into the street. A circle of ponies were holding Twilight aloft, occasionally throwing her into the air.

“Twilight is my bestest friend, whoopee whoopee-”Marjoram watched in horror as Pinkie began to sing.

“Pinkie,” Twilight stated blandly.

“She's te cutest, smartest, all-around best pony, pony-”

“Pinkie,” Twilight repeated, a little more emphatically.

“I bet if I throw a super-duper fun party, party-”

“Pinkie,” Twilight looked ready to give up on all of ponykind.

“She'll give her extra ticket to the Gala to me!”

“PINKIE!” Twilight shouted. The ponies that had been tossing her into the air moved away, sending Twilight to the ground.

Marjoram turned away from the scene to face Fluttershy, “What in the hell?-”

“Marjoram!” Spike ran into the room, panting for breath, “There...you...are..”

“Where else would I be?” Marjoram asked, “I told you I was staying here!”

Spike heaved for breath, reaching into one of two little pouches that were in his scales (Twilight thought that they were there for adolescent dragons to carry their stash of jewels), and pulled out a scroll. Clearly it was from Celestia.

“Ah. The invitation for the Gala, I presume?” Marjoram stopped, turning to Fluttershy, an idea ingiting in his head, “You've got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“That's what this is about? Twilight got invited to her first Gala, didn't she?”

“She did, and they've been fighting over her spare ticket since then-”

“Why didn't you just write a letter to Celestia?” Marjoram let out a groan, “You've got to be kidding me-”

A series of screams sounded from outside, and Marjoram made it to the door just in time to see Twilight run away from a mob of Ponyville citizens, “Holy shit.”

“Language!” Fluttershy scolded. When met with his deadpan glare, she shuffled her wings nervously, “uhm..please?”

“Is she going to be okay?” Spike asked nervously, looking outside, “How long do you think its going to take her to lose them?”

“I don't know, Spike.”

Suddenly, the other four Element bearers appeared, pushing passed Marjoram in their rush.

“Is Twilight here?!” Pinkie asked excitedly, looking around, “Has she made a decision yet?”

“She's being chased by a mob of ponies, and you're going to just sit here and wait?” Marjoram asked, mystified.

“Did you see it out there?” Rainbow demanded, “it's crazy!”

“Twilight is out in that! She's the focus of that mob!” Marjoram pressed, “Aren't you supposed to be her friends?!”

“We are her friends!”

“Then why are you acting like a bunch of spoiled fillies? This is ridiculous! I don't know what you think the Gala is, but I can tell you it's not what everypony expects-”

“You've been there!?” Rarity looked scandalized, “How?”

“I was the first student Celestia had taken on in almost two-hundred years!” Marjoram spat, “Twilight was the second, and was less than fifty years after me. Do you not realize how rare that is? Now, if you'd stopped bickering-”

“and offering favours,” Spike interjected.

“I would have written Celestia the second Spike got back here. Celestia is not as unapproachable as everypony believes,” Marjoram stared at the assembled ponies and shook his head, “Maker...”

“How do you know the Princess would do anything about it?”

“Because she continues to invite me year after year, even when I've told her repeatedly that I'm not going to go,” Marjoram opened the scroll, and took the two tickets that had been placed in it. He threw them to the library ground, shoved through the stunned ponies to reach the door, and stopped for a second, “There. More useless things you can bicker over. C'mon Spike, we've got to see if we can help Twilight!”

Spike followed Marjoram out the door, sniffing, he pointed to Sugarcube Corner, “That way!” the pair were off, leaving the library door open, with five stunned ponies inside.

(LINE BREAK)

Spike knew Marjoram wouldn't last for much longer. The sun had just set, and the damp, summer air was beginning to set off Marjoram's cough. Spike sighed, tugging carefully on Marjoram's cloak.

Marjoram stumbled to a stop, muffling a cough with a hoof, “What?”

“I can't smell her anymore,” Spike admitted quietly, “I don't think we're going to find her out here,” besides, Spike's legs burned with exertion.

Marjoram sighed, nodding reluctantly, “I suppose so… Back to the library?”

Spike nodded, following beside Marjoram's steady, slow tread for a minute, “Um...can I hop onto your back?”

Marjoram blinked, stopping again. He looked down at Spike, his gold eyes showing little of his feelings, “I'm sorry, Spike. Didn't think...hop on.”

Spike, carefully, got onto Marjoram's cloth covered back, feeling Marjoram's bones through his scales. As uncomfortable as the ride was going to be, Spike's legs thanked him for the break. It was unsettling, too, to feel the vibrations that shook Marjoram's body every time he breathed, and to feel how the coughing involved most of his body.

Spike couldn't have been happier when he spotted the library. Most of the lights were off, and it looked like most of the shutters were closed too.

“I swear if she's in there,” Marjoram rasped.

“I'll overcook her breakfast every other Tuesday when she finally lets me cook on her own.”

“If I...fast track the...process, I expect you to...uphold that,” Marjoram breathed.

Within a few steps of the library door, Spike hopped off of Marjoram's back, and scampered to the door, opening it for Marjoram. Marjoram entered the library, and was faced with six ponies. Marjoram felt irritation build.

“See?” Marjoram looked down at Spike, then gestured to the ponies, “Now they're friends again...get ready to send that letter.”

Spike nodded, hurrying off to find a quill, some parchment, and a pot of ink.

“Are you alright?!” Twilight asked, stepping forward cautiously. Her fur and mane were mussed, like she'd done a lot of work and hadn't been able to fix them yet, “I was so worried.”

“Spike's heavier...than you let on,” Marjoram avoided the question.

“You carried him?!” Twilight asked, dumbfounded.

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “We were out...all afternoon.”

“You seriously expect us to believe that? Twilight just said she didn't see you guys all afternoon!” Rainbow spat.

Clearly still angry that the misanthrope was able to teach them something anypony with a sibling should know. Marjoram mused. Fighting over each others' things is stupid, and that sometimes you can't go to events you want to go to because you weren't invited.

“Ask Spike if you don't...believe me,” Marjoram wheezed, clearing his throat and triggering a coughing fit. No blood. That's a win.

Rainbow rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Marjoram narrowed his eyes at her, “What is your problem with me?”

“What's your problem with everypony else?” Rainbow demanded.

Marjoram sighed, “None of your business.”

Rainbow let out an exasperated yell, “You've got to be kidding me! Seriously? You're not going to say-”

Marjoram shook his head, coughing some more, “Twi-”

“I'll get your tea,” Twilight trotted off to the kitchen, leaving Marjoram and the others alone.

Marjoram sat down, focusing on the shallow breaths he could take without irritating his lungs. The sounds of his breathing were ragged and wet, vibrating through his lungs

“What's the matter?” Rarity asked after a moment of tense silence, “You mentioned you were sick before.”

Marjoram shook his head again, “Long story...”

“Can we, uh, do anything to help?” Applejack asked hesitantly.

Marjoram shook his head, wincing as the whole body ache he'd woken up with escalated. Twilight came back, a steaming mug held in the grasp of her magic. She set it down in front of him, and with shaking hooves, Marjoram began to sip at the hot liquid, breathing in the steam. The cobwebs loosened, and Marjoram began to drink in earnest, able to breathe.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Twilight asked hesitantly.

“I will be,” Marjoram replied quietly, “Just tired.”

“How are you tired?” Rainbow asked, “You were only out for a few hours-”

“And didn't you work in the morgue all day a few days ago?” Applejack interjected, “What makes this so different?”

Marjoram sighed, “Magic versus physical work. I'm underoxygenated most of the time, so doing things physically is a lot harder than magically.”

“Huh?”

“I don't get enough air,” Marjoram stated flatly, downing the last of the tea, “I'm going to bed.”

“Why? It's so early.”

“Because I'm sick,” Marjoram replied tersely, “and sick people need rest.”

“That's bullshit!” Rainbow's use of a swear word froze Marjoram in place; he had yet to hear anypony in Ponyville swear once.

“How would you know?!” Marjoram spat, his horn sparking, “Do you-” his breath caught in his throat, and he began to cough harshly. His lungs burned and his throat felt like it was on fire, and soon enough, the metallic taste of blood was on his tongue.

Twilight clenched her eyes shut, focusing hard. Magic built up around her horn, soon brightening with power. She channeled the spell into Marjoram, who felt the cobwebs ease in his lungs. Twilight smiled brightly, “Did it work?”

Marjoram nodded, breathing steadily. After a moment, he relaxed marginally. Using his magic, he took off his cloak, hanging it up, and stood on shaking legs. He began to walk to the basement, but heard Spike let out an all consuming burp from the other room.

Spike ran in, holding a scroll, “I wrote Princess Celestia! She wrote back.”

Marjoram sat down again, curious as to what Celestia had said.

Spike unrolled the scroll, eyes scanning quickly, “'Why didn't you just ask for the extra tickets in the first place?'”

“Told you,” Marjoram said quietly.

Spike held out six tickets to the others, and Twilight took them and distributed them amongst her friends. There was a pause, and Spike burped forcefully, another scroll appearing, “'One for Spike, and one for Marjoram.'”

Marjoram sighed, taking his ticket with magic, “Figures. I suppose I've got to go now,” Marjoram shook his head, standing once more, “Good night.”

As Marjoram reached the bottom of the stairs, on shaking, weak legs, he heard the girls (and Spike) leave to get dinner. He shut the door behind him, stuffing the ticket into a drawer of his night table. He collapsed onto his bed, and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Author's Note

I'm still not sure how I feel about this chapter. I might come back later and break it into two chapters, depending on how the rest of this story goes. I don't know.

Anyway, please let me know what you think!

Applebuck Season

The next afternoon, after Marjoram was awake and moving, saw Spike and Marjoram's baking day. Twilight was banned from the kitchen as the two baked. Twilight could sometimes hear their bickering, and more than once had to chastise Marjoram for his language from where she was looking through the library's paperwork.

Soon enough, the library was full of delicious smells. Twilight's mouth began to water, and she forced herself out of the library before the smell drove her mad. Marjoram and Spike would be sure to try to feed her too many cookies (or whatever else they were baking), anyway, so she wouldn't miss much if she went to lunch-

The ground began to shake, sending Twilight almost to the ground.

“STAMPEDE!” Sompony shouted.

Immediately, ponies began to run into the closest buildings, shutting shutters, moving things out of the street, and helping ponies who couldn't move very quickly. Twilight, unsure of what to do, ran back into the library, and began to shutter the windows.

Pinkie Pie rushed inside, shutting the door behind her, “Thank you for not shutting the door, Twilight! I'd have never made it back to Sugarcube Corner before the stampede hits!”

“What's going on!?” Twilight demanded, shutting the last window securely.

“It's a stampede. Probably one of the herds of cattle got spooked, and are running toward Ponyville,” Pinkie said brightly. She sniffed the air, and she smiled, “Ooh! Are those chocolate/peanut butter cookies I smell?”

“Yes, but-”

Pinkie bounced toward the kitchen, leaving a bewildered Twilight standing in the middle of the library. A few moments later, the shaking stopped. Marjoram, Spike, and Pinkie came out of the kitchen. Pinkie sported a smear of chocolate on her muzzle, and wore a look of pure satisfaction on her face.

“A stampede?” Marjoram asked, bewildered, “Seriously?”

“Uh huh,” Pinkie nodded, licking the chocolate off of her face, “They're pretty rare, but they still happen.”

A knock on the door prompted Twilight to open it, revealing a relieved Mayor Mare. Her mane was disheveled a little, but a smile graced her face, “Everypony, the crisis has been averted! Applejack managed to turn the herd of cows before they reached Ponyville. We're safe!”

Message delivered, Mayor Mare left, going towards the next building. Pinkie opened the door, trotting out.

“Thanks for the cookie! I hope I'll see you this weekend, Marjoram! I know you'll love the muffins Applejack and I are going to make!” Pinkie's eyes widened suddenly, and she ran towards the mayor, “ooh! Mayor Mare! Can we throw a party to thank Applejack!?”

“So...those cookies smell good,” Twilight ventured, “Are you done baking yet?”

Marjoram and Spike shared a look. Spike nodded, and Marjoram rolled his eyes, “Fine. Go help yourself. All we have to do is wait for those gem cupcakes to cool, Spike, then we can bag the majority of them and freeze them so they keep longer. We'll do that with some of the cookies too, okay?”

“Sounds good!” Spike smiled brightly, showing off his sharp teeth. He scampered after Twilight.

Marjoram sighed, and followed more reluctantly.

(LINE BREAK)

A week later was when Applejack's 'thank you for saving the town' party was going to be held. It was just outside of Town Hall, and everything was decorated to the nines in bright colours and apple themed décor. Applejack had been informed of the party, and everypony in Ponyville had chipped in to make the occasion special.

Rarity was fixing a large golden banner with large apples on it to the front of Town Hall when Marjoram and Spike arrived, carrying a tray of their cookies. Pinkie appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and pointed to a table that was overladen with food and drink. Marjoram deposited the cookies, and went over to Twilight, watching in fascination as the last of the party decorations were set up.

“So, is Applejack here yet?” Marjoram asked, looking around at the sea of ponies and not finding Applejack among them.

“No one's seen her all week,” Rainbow replied, “but she'll be here.”

Marjoram nodded slowly, then saw the pile of que-cards Twilight had brought with her, “You're making the speech, aren't you?”

“How could you tell?” Twilight asked, picking up the cards with her magic.

“The cards, for one,” Marjoram replied, “and you look like you're going to have an aneurism. Don't forget to breathe, it's deceptively important y'know.”

Rainbow's face scrunched in confusion, while Twilight giggled, “I know. Oh, that's the mayor. Must be time to start,” Twilight trotted up to the temporary stage, flipping through the cards as she did so.

Making sure they're in the right order. Maker, how many of them does she have? Marjoram wondered. This might be worse than when I asked her to do a presentation on Canterlot last year. Marjoram watched as Twilight's speech began, then got interrupted by Rainbow, Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Mayor Mare. Applejack is helping with a new trick, Pinkie's free samples, and the bunny consensus? Holy hells.

Marjoram snapped out of his musings when Mayor Mare pointed to the large, golden trophy with a blue ribbon on it. Overkill much?

“...my pleasure to give the Prize Pony of Ponyville award to our guest of honour; Ponyville's most dependable, trustworthy pony, Applejack!”

The curtains opened, but she wasn't there. The cheering and applause died off, leaving an awkward silence.

“I'm here!” Applejack called from the back of the crowd. From the front, Marjoram couldn't see much beyond her hat, and two towering piles of apples. Is she wearing a harness or something? Marjoram wondered. Applejack moved through the crowd yawning audibly, and apologizing to the crowd at large. When she emerged from the crowd, and stepped onto the stage, the crowd winced.

Applejack looked like hell. Her mane and tail were a mess, huge bags and darkened patches of fur were under her eyes (indicating a serious lack of sleep), and she seemed unable to stand upright without tilting to one side or the other. Two baskets, overflowing with apples, were strapped to her sides.

“Oh dear,” Marjoram mumbled.

“What?” Spike asked.

“Look at her, her eyes remind you of anypony?”

Spike looked up at Applejack for a moment, then to Marjoram. His eyes widened, “No offense, but her eyes are like yours.”

“No offense taken,” Marjoram replied softly, “That mare has had very little sleep in the last week.”

Applejack smiled at the mayor, tilting a little like she was drunk, “Thank you kindly, Miss. Mayor,” She said, her accent thickening and her words slurring because of how tired she was, “for this mighty fine, award thingy. It's so golden and shiny,” Marjoram heard Applejack's jaw crack from the force of her next yawn, “hehe. I look funny,” she clearly saw herself in the polished metal of the trophy.

“Thank you, Applejack,” Twilight ventured, stepping closer, “For saving Ponyville from that stampede, and for being there for everypony who needs you.”

“I sure do like helping the pony folks!” Applejack smiled, seemingly not noticing when an apple fell from one of the baskets at her side, and rolled off the stage, “and, uh, stuff,” her eyes fluttered for a moment, before she shook her head wildly. She offered a smile to the crowd, “So, uh, thanks! For this!” With that, Applejack grabbed the edge of the massive trophy with her mouth, and began to drag it away, off the stage, and across the square to get back to Sweet Apple Acres.

Once she was gone, and the horrible metallic scraping was no longer audible, Twilight looked down at her friends from the stage, “Did Applejack seem-”

“Tired?” Marjoram said bluntly.

“Dizzy?” Rainbow inserted.

“Messy?” Rarity added, “Did you see her mane?”

“I'm going to go check on her,” Twilight said, “A bit later. Maybe she'll be better by this afternoon.”

“You wanna go home, Spike?” Marjoram asked, “You know me-”

“Not a huge fan of crowds. Two steps ahead of you,” Spike smiled, “C'mon. I've got the latest issue of Power Ponies back at the library to read.”

Marjoram smiled, “Thank you, Spike.”

“Hey, no problem!”

Marjoram and Spike plodded off, leaving the party behind them. All the while, a niggling feeling of worry lingered in the back of Marjoram's mind. This can't end well.

(LINE BREAK)

When Rainbow Dash extracted herself from Twilight's balcony, and made her way downstairs so Spike could get her a drink, she didn't expect to see Marjoram sitting at the counter, wrapped in a blanket, hunched over a red, faux leather journal.

“What are you doing?” Rainbow asked, trying to keep her voice polite. She was a guest in his house after all.

Spike opened the fridge, and handed Rainbow a cold soda. Rainbow opened it, setting the tab on the counter, waiting for an answer.

“Trying to find the dates that correspond with my week awake,” Marjoram mumbled, “Couldn't sleep for a week. I know I wrote stuff down, but I haven't re-read them.”

“Why not?”

“Not sleeping does a lot of bad stuff to your body and brain!” Spike piped up, pouring himself a glass of milk.

Marjoram nodded, “I'm hoping that if I find the pages, I'll be able to use them to convince Applejack to get some help with her harvest.”

“It's applebuck season,” Spike corrected.

“Same thing,” Marjoram retorted, eyes skimming through the pages. He stopped, squinted at the words, then nodded, “Here we go. Good lord, this makes no sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was writing about how the words were moving, how the sentences were trying to trick me. Good lord,” Marjoram shut the journal, “Never mind. This can't help Applejack.”

“What's in there?”

“I think I was trying to figure out some mathematical equations, the unsolvable ones. It didn't go very well. Most of it is my extremely tired self ranting about very personal matters. That's all.”

“Oh,” Rainbow guzzled half of her drink, “What's with the blanket?”

“Cold.”

“Why are you cold? It's the middle of the summer!”

“Underoxygenated, remember? Makes me feel cold all the time.”

Rainbow nodded, “Okay...”

Marjoram sighed, “Do you mind grabbing a cookie from the freezer for me, Spike? I'll sneak you an extra gem cupcake later.”

Spike giggled, grabbing the step stool they had bought for him, dragging it over to the fridge, and using it so he could open the freezer. Pulling out a small baggie of cookies, he tossed it to Marjoram, who caught it with his magic. Spike shut the freezer, then climbed back down, moving the stool so it was out of the way.

“How old are you, exactly, Spike?”

“I'm nine, almost ten.”

“Why does Twilight call you a baby dragon then? You're a kid!”

“By pony years, I am. But I'm only a few years old when you're comparing me to dragons.”

“Huh,” Rainbow sipped at her soda, “How old are you, Marjoram?”

“Twenty-nine,” Marjoram replied coolly.

“Seriously? I thought you'd be in your thirties, like Kafir!”

“He's eight years older than I am. How do you know him?”

“He comes through every once and a while to see if we need any help with anything that comes out of the Everfree,” Rainbow shrugged, “Been doing it a long time.”

Marjoram sighed, then his eyes widened, “Wait, you know we're brothers?”

“Who doesn't after you practically wrecked Main Street, and heard you shouting at him?” Rainbow retorted, “Besides, Kafir told me he had siblings. Where's your sister?”

“Dead,” Marjoram stated, using his magic to pick up his book, “I hate to cut this short, but I'm going to go downstairs and read. You're more than welcome to join me, Spike.”

“I will later, I've got some questions about the Second Pony War!”

“You're learning about that already?!” Rainbow exclaimed.

Spike shrugged, “Twilight learned it when she was eight.”

“I learned it when I was seven,” Marjoram's lips quirked, “I read the book when Celestia told me not to.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, “How rebellious.”

Marjoram shrugged, leaving the kitchen. Rainbow downed the last of her soda, “Thanks, Spike. Tell Twilight I've gone home,” Rainbow was gone before Spike could respond.

Spike sighed, downed the last of his milk, put the glass in the sink, and went downstairs.

(LINE BREAK)

Twilight ran down to the First Aid tent that had been set up in Town Square, Spike clutching to her mane. Her heart pounded in her throat, and her mind swirled with possibilities. As the large, blue tent appeared, Twilight slowed down, panting for breath.

Nurse Redheart was already waiting for Twilight, looking worried, “Thank goodness you're here.”

“What happened?” Twilight asked.

“Well, Applejack helped Pinkie with the muffins-”

“Oh no-” Twilight moaned, “How is everypony?”

“Food poisoning. We're in the process of trying to get everypony to the hospital now, but Marjoram-”

“Oh no, he didn't eat one did he?” Worry blossomed in Twilight's chest.

“He did,” Redheart replied, “At least one. He's been-”

“Can we see him?” Spike interrupted, “Please?”

Redheart smiled, “Of course. Be warned-”

“It'll be okay. We're not squeamish,” Twilight reassured, “Where is he?”

Redheart opened the curtain, flooding Twilight's nose with the scents of vomit, sweat, medicine, and sickness. Immediately, Twilight saw where Marjoram was laying on a bed. He was wrapped in a blanket, an icepack resting on his head above his horn. He was curled into himself, hind legs twitching in discomfort. His face was pinched in pain, and he looked more than a little nauseous.

The ponies around him didn't seem to be faring much better. Some were on the floor, as there were not enough cots for everypony. Ponies were groaning in discomfort, and several were vomiting heavily into wooden basins that had been provided.

“What happened?”

“Muffins...were bad,” Marjoram breathed, his breath rattling in his lungs, “It was...bad. Applejack...”

Twilight's worry was cranked into fear at the sight of Pinkie, puking into her own bucket. If Pinkie had eaten them, and had gotten sick, what could the muffins to do an average pony? Or to Marjoram?

“I'll go talk to her again,” Twilight replied, “Then I'll get you home. Being around this many ponies while you're sick can't be good-”

“Always sick,” Marjoram mumbled, leaning over the edge of the bed to puke bile into the bucket that had been placed there.

Twilight nodded, “I know, but you're sicker than usual. Spike, can you stay here and help Nurse Redheart? Please?”

Spike nodded, trotting off toward the nurse, his clawed feet clicking across the cobblestones. He watched as Twilight left, trotting her way toward Sweet Apple Acres. Spike looked back at Marjoram, and winced. I hope Applejack listens now.

(LINE BREAK)

Twilight came back to the tent, visibly angry. Her anger cooled as she aided Redheart with the sick ponies. She gave out instructions to family members, eased fevers, and kept an eye on Marjoram's ever declining health. Eventually, Redheart had enough hooves (sent from the hospital), to bring the few ponies left back to the hospital and take down the tent.

Twilight, using her magic as she'd seen Princess Celestia do many times, lifted Marjoram into the air, and brought him back to the library. At his request, she set him up in the bathtub, giving him a pillow and a blanket. She thought it odd at first, but realized that the setup was quite convenient, as Marjoram could puke into the toilet from where he lay. All he'd have to do was lift his head and move forward a little. Twilight left Marjoram a bottle of water, and let him be, shutting the door so he could get some privacy.

That was when she heard the screams outside. She ran outside, to find ponies laying on the ground, flowerbeds, flowerpots, and gardens in ruins. Running to the nearest pony, Roseluck if Twilight remembered correctly, she rounded the corner of the flower shop and found the source of the destruction.

Bunnies. Loads and loads of baby bunnies. In and amongst the chaos was Fluttershy, trying meekly (and with little success), to get the bunnies to stop.

Twilight trotted over, making sure she didn't step on an errant bunny, “What happened?!”

“Applejack scared them,” Fluttershy stated quietly, “even after I told her not to! N-not that I blame her-”

Twilight sighed, “Alright. Good luck with this, Fluttershy. I'm going to go see if Applejack is willing to accept our help now!”

“Okay, Twilight.”

Twilight trotted off, leaving Fluttershy once more with the herd of bunnies. It took her several hours, and a few more helping hooves, to get them back to her house.

(LINE BREAK)

Days passed, and the apple harvest was brought in on time. The chaos Applejack had accidentally caused was cleaned up and fixed, and the ponies stricken with food poisoning began to get better. Everypony, that is, but Marjoram, who seemed to have caught something else while he was sick.

Marjoram, in a fit of fever induced rage, had cut the majority of his long tail off, leaving it very short. Twilight wasn't sure if he would be grateful for it later or not; he'd mentioned wanting to cut his tail shorter before, but had never acted on that desire before. Hopefully Marjoram wouldn't mind the crookedness of the cut either.

Twilight was worried beyond measure for Marjoram, as the days passed, and he didn't seem to recover. The vomiting and fever stopped, but Marjoram began to complain about a deep ache that permeated through his entire body. It left him weak, and bedridden.

Twilight had been watching as her mentor's health declined, and was unsure of what to do. She ran tests, checked his muscles, and ran diagnostic spells on him. She hadn't found anything yet, and the only thing that she had yet to do was scan his magic, something she could only do while he was sleeping and his body wasn't tapping into his magic subconsciously. This would also prevent his magic from sensing Twilight as a threat, as she'd done this multiple times while he was asleep.

Mid-afternoon, Twilight went down to check on Marjoram, and found him fast asleep, propped up on pillows to elevate his chest and ease his breathing. Working quickly, and quietly, Twilight began to scan Marjoram's magic, dormant in sleep. Twilight immediately saw the problem.

Dark magic was trying to overtake Marjoram's inherent light magic. This must be what's causing the pain, his light magic is trying to fight off the dark magic, and it's losing! Twilight stopped the scan, and an idea came to her. What if I can boost it? Maybe make a potion like antibiotics?

Twilight trotted upstairs, and into the little room she had turned into her lab. Working quickly, Twilight began to make a potion, similar to the potions she'd been making for Marjoram for years. This time, instead of infusing it with herbs, healing magic, and different medicines, Twilight infused it with light magic, adding herbs that carried the magic well, and would release it into Marjoram's system over time, as well as give him a boost of magic at the time of consumption.

Leaving the potion to brew for a while, Twilight set about making dinner, hoping that if she could get Marjoram to take the potion before eating, he would actually eat more than a few mouthfuls. Part way through figuring out what Spike, Marjoram, and herself would all eat, several minutes later, the timer for the potion went off.

Twilight bottled the bright blue liquid, filling several bottles with the medium sized batch Twilight had concocted. Measuring out one dose, Twilight went to the basement, knocking before opening the door. Marjoram's golden eyes, usually bright, were dull and lackluster.

“I've got a potion for you to try,” Twilight brought the cup to Marjoram's lips. Marjoram looked at the liquid for a moment, before drinking it down in one gulp.

He winced at the taste, then relaxed, “Hmm...can't tell..what's in here.”

“Herbs mostly, a boost of magic.”

Marjoram nodded, “Yeah, magic's been...weak lately.”

Twilight forced the soft smile, watching at Marjoram almost melted into his bed, “Is it working?”

“Feel better already,” Marjoram breathed. The tightness in his face relaxed, and he fell into a deep sleep.

Twilight watched him for a few moments, before retreating back upstairs. I'll tell him when he's more awake. No point waking him up now. Maybe he'll actually get some rest.

A few hours later, while Twilight was pulling the baked potatoes from the oven, Marjoram walked into the kitchen. He still looked like hell, his mane disheveled and wrapped in a blanket, but his eyes were bright and he was on his feet.

“I don't know what you did, but the pain's gone. Same with the weakness.”

“Really?” Twilight smiled a big smile, “Thank goodness! I've been so worried-”

Marjoram offered a weak smile, “I'm hungry.”

Twilight spun around, “Seriously!? What do you want? We can get it, or I can make it-”

“You don't have to-”

“Yes, I do,” Twilight insisted, “You usually just eat whatever I make. Tell me what you want.”

“Cheese croissants from Sugarcube Corner?” Marjoram suggested.

Twilight nodded, offering a smile, “I'll be right back,” Twilight all but ran out of the house.

Marjoram sighed, resting his head against the counter. Hopefully everything will be back to normal soon.

Author's Note

We're gonna deviate from canon a little more in the coming chapters. Be warned.

Gilda

When Marjoram left the library earlier than usual, he was hoping to get something for breakfast for himself and the others. His plan had been to get the ingredients, and make breakfast for everyone; as a thank you for taking care of him.

What Marjoram hadn't expected, was for all the shops to be closed, and the streets deserted. Marjoram tried knocking on a few doors, but heard nothing more than a few quiet whimpers. Didn't think they were that terrified of me. Marjoram thought.

The sight of a cloaked figure, standing in the middle of town square, caught Marjoram's attention. He approached cautiously, wondering if the figure was why everypony was hiding. Marjoram cleared his throat, “Hello?”

The figure turned, her turquoise eyes the only thing clearly visible, “Ah! A pony, I see! Someone whom I can converse with, finally!” Her voice was deep, and thickly accented.

“Hello,” Marjoram responded, “I'm Marjoram.”

“I am Zecora, from a far way land. From everywhere, however, it seems I've been banned,” using a hoof, she lowered the hood, showing her face for the first time. Her mane was short, she was covered in thick, golden jewelry, and she was covered in stripes..

Marjoram felt surprised, “A zebra!? I've never met one of you before. It's an honour,”

Zecora smiled, “Please, the honour is mine. It is nice to have sompony in which I can confide.”

Marjoram nodded, “I'm guessing you're the reason the shops are closed,” Zecora frowned, and nodded. Marjoram sighed, “I'm sorry about these ponies. If you went to Canterlot, you'd be much better treated-”

“My work requires me to live in the Everfree,” Zecora gestured to the dark woods, “I need only one more ingredient for my recipe.”

“You can only find it here in Ponyville? What is it? I might have some.”

“You would be willing to do this for a stranger?” Zecora asked, baffled, “As far as you know, this could invite great danger.”

Marjoram shrugged, “It's not a big problem. Somepony here in this backwater town has to treat you fairly, might as well be me.”

“I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Let's get going, and see if what you have can fill my cart.”

Marjoram didn't see a cart, but he figured it was a metaphorical for if he had what Zecora needed. Marjoram nodded, “Follow me,” and began to lead Zecora to the mortician building. Her eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“You work with the dead? Where many a pony fear to tread?”

“Yes. I was one of two morticians in Canterlot before Twilight and I moved here.”
Zecora nodded, and followed Marjoram inside, looking around the sterile office for a moment, looking at the labelled jars, and containers lined up along one wall. Moving closer, her eyes lit up, “This is what I require, thank you for fulfilling my desire!”

“It's not a problem. If you need anything else, I can probably get it for you, just let me know,” Marjoram offered a hesitant smile, getting the container from the shelf with magic, and allowing Zecora to take what she needed.

Zecora nodded, taking a good amount of the herb and putting it in her saddle-bag, “Again, I thank you for this. Are you sure this is something you will not miss?”

“It's fine,” Marjoram replied, putting the container back.

Zecora nodded, “Then I will bid you farewell, as I must return to where I dwell.”

Marjoram nodded, “And I should get going.”

Zecora smiled, pulled the hood up over her head once more, leaving the office. Marjoram couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a friend.

Marjoram was disappointed to realize Twilight and Spike had already eaten breakfast by the time he'd made it back to the library. He promised he'd make them dinner, which excited both of them as they knew Marjoram was an excellent cook.

Around mid-morning, an invoice was dropped off for reports that had been dropped off at the post office, coming from around Equestria. However, Marjoram had two autopsies to perform that day, and had no time to get them.

“Spike, would you mind getting them for me?” Marjoram asked, writing a quick note that gave Spike permission to pick the letters up, “and here are the bits for the reports, keep the change. Bring them to my office when you're done?”

Spike nodded, offering a toothy grin, “Okay! I'll go right now!”

Marjoram nodded in thanks, “I'll probably be in the back, performing one of the autopsies, so just drop them on my desk.”

Spike left the library, Marjoram leaving mere moments afterward. Marjoram headed to the mortician's, flipped through the chart for the first autopsy, and got to work.

When Spike appeared, carrying the massive pile of reports, Marjoram had been taking a break, flipping through the chart for the next autopsy. Marjoram had been surprised to find Spike hadn't dropped them off yet, as several hours had passed since Spike had left to retrieve them.

Spike offered a timid smile, “Sorry for the wait. Pinkie and Rainbow pranked me on the way here, and I got the hiccups-”

“Sent them to Celestia by accident?” Marjoram guessed.

Spike nodded, putting the pile of scrolls on the desk, “Yeah. She sent them back, though.”

Marjoram chuckled, “I heard they've been pranking a lot of people lately. They haven't gotten me yet-”

“Maybe they're too scared to,” Spike suggested, “Or don't know how to.”

Marjoram shrugged, “Whatever the reason, I'm glad they haven't. If they startled me like they did you, I'd probably cough until I spat blood.”

“True. Would you like me to do anything else?” Spike asked eagerly.

“No thanks,” Marjoram stood up, “I've got to get that second autopsy done so I can make you guys dinner.”

“Okay!” Spike said brightly, “Good luck.”

Marjoram offered a soft, crooked smile to Spike's back as the little dragon left. Marjoram magically levitated the chart he'd been examining, and went to the morgue. No point putting this off. Hello Mr. Seal, let's get started, shall we?

(LINE BREAK)

When Marjoram got back to the library, he drank his tea, and a dose of the potion Twilight had made him, then started to make dinner. He made spaghetti and garlic bread, something he knew the three of them would all enjoy.

Spike left the library to join Marjoram in the kitchen, inhaling the scents of garlic, baking bread, and tomato sauce, “Mmmm. Smells good!”

Marjoram nodded, “It does, doesn't it?-”

From where Marjoram was standing, he saw and heard Fluttershy burst into the library, nearly in tears. She looked around frantically for Twilight, and not finding her, focused on Marjoram. Through her tears, and obvious distress, she still walked slowly over.

“Um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything-”

“It's nothing important!” Spike exclaimed, getting up and leading Fluttershy inside, seating her at the counter, “What's wrong?!”

“Well, I was helping some parent ducks get their ducklings back home, leading them through Ponyville. I-I guess I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and I ran into Gilda, one of Rainbow Dash's friends from Flight Camp.”

Marjoram nodded, stirring the marinara sauce.

“She's a griffon, and she got really, really mad when I accidentally ran into her,” Fluttershy sniffled, wiping away at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, “Sh-she roared at me, and she scared the ducks, and I panicked, and-”

Marjoram pulled out a mug, and a bag of lavender tea. He poured water into the cup and boiled it with magic, putting the tea bag into the mug, “Here. Drink this. Breathe.”

Fluttershy sniffled again, heaving for breath. She waited for the tea to cool a little before taking a sip, “Where's Twilight?”

“Off to get more quills,” Spike gestured in the direction of the quill and sofa shop.

“Oh,” Fluttershy stared into her cup.

Marjoram sighed, “She'll be back soon,” at the announcement, Spike cleared his throat and drove his elbow into Marjoram's shoulder. Marjoram rolled his eyes, turned the burners down to low, and turned to Spike, “You're in charge of making sure nothing burns. Fluttershy is to watch and help in case of emergency, and the oven mitts are on the counter there. I'll go see if I can find Twilight.”

“Oh! I don't mean to impose,” Fluttershy's eyes were wide.

“It's no problem,” Marjoram replied dryly, moving to the door and draping his cloak over his thin body. He left the library and went into the streets of Ponyville.

Keeping his head down, Marjoram made his way through the crowd, wondering what to think about Rainbow Dash's friend. Well, she's a griffon. Might have different cultural views on 'weaklings'.

Marjoram almost ran into Twilight, who was looking down at an order form, “Ooph!” Twilight exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Marjoram offered a soft smile, “Fluttershy came over to talk to you-”

Twilight sighed, “Fluttershy now? Is Pinkie there?”

“No,” Marjoram replied, “Why-”

“Gilda, Rainbow Dash's friend-”

“Ah.”

“I ran into Pinkie before I ran into you. She's planning a party for Gilda, and she's invited all of us.”

Marjoram nodded, “Alright then. I've never met a griffon before.”

“Neither have I, though I think Pinkie was jealous of Gilda. She seemed so angry earlier. I'm glad she's changed her mind,” Marjoram made a non-commital sound in the back of his throat. Twilight glared at him from the corner of her eye, “What?”

“I think Pinkie was right about her initial assessment. Fluttershy is back at the library, Spike and I calmed her down. Apparently Gilda roared at her, and scared the living daylights out of her.”

Twilight winced, “Well, we don't really know Gilda-”

“No we don't,” Marjoram agreed, “That's why we're going to the party.”

Twilight blinked, stopping mid-stride, “Seriously?”

“Yes. And I'm going to pretend I'm sicker than usual, and see how she treats me in an environment filled with friendly, unfamiliar ponies.”

Twilight began walking again, “Okay...that's it?”

“That's it,” Marjoram replied evenly, “We need to know if it was a one-time thing or not.”

“I suppose so,” Twilight admitted slowly, “We should bring Spike and Fluttershy too, see how Gilda treats them.”

The crooked smile Twilight knew so well bloomed over Marjoram's features, “Let's get going. We want to make sure Rainbow knows how her friend is an ass.”

“Language!”

Marjoram let out a rusty chuckle, shaking his head, “This is going to be fun.”

(LINE BREAK)

When Rarity saw Twilight, Spike, Fluttershy, and Marjoram enter Sugar Cube Corner, she knew something was wrong. Twilight and Spike looked like they usually did when faced with a party: excited, if a little uncomfortable. Fluttershy, Rarity could tell, was more nervous than usual: tense, and refusing to look anypony in the eye.

However, it was Marjoram that Rarity couldn't help but wince at the appearance of. He always looked rather...undistinguished, tired, and messy, but this was a whole other level. Marjoram's mane was free of its usual bun, showcasing his newly shortened and crooked tail. He was walking slowly, almost like he was testing to make sure his legs didn't give out on him before he took the next step.

Moving closer, toward the punch, Rarity could hear his raspy, liquid filled breathing from several feet away and above the noise of the ponies that had already shown up for the party. Rarity poured herself a glass, then moved to one side, watching as Marjoram found an empty chair and sat down, his tired golden eyes sweeping the room.

Rarity poured another glass of punch, and walked over, magically floating the punch to Marjoram, whose own magic took it, “Gilda isn't here yet.”

Marjoram nodded, “I figured.”

Rarity had to stop herself from wincing: even Marjoram's voice sounded worse. Usually he was soft spoken, his voice raspy and weak. Now it sounded like he'd swallowed nails. Marjoram sipped delicately at the punch, observing the room.

“I hope you don't mind me asking, but are you going to the Gala?” Rarity asked suddenly.

Marjoram blinked, then shrugged, “Not sure yet. Depends on what's going on, I suppose. It's Twilight's first one, so I might stay for a few minutes.”

Rarity nodded, taking a sip of her own punch, “I know the girls, Spike and I are going together. I'm sure it won't be any trouble for you to come with us.”

“Thank you,” Marjoram replied quietly, “I'll consider it.”

“Have you heard anything about this Gilda?”

Marjoram shook his head. Before he could say anything more, the door to Sugarcube Corner flew open, letting in Rainbow Dash, then a griffon that could only be Gilda. Rainbow let out an awkward laugh, “Sorry, Pinkie! Didn't mean to slam the door open like that!”

“That's okay!” Pinkie smiled, bouncing over to Gilda, “I'm so happy to throw you one of my signature parties! And I really hope you feel welcome among all of us ponies!” With that, Pinkie outstretched a hoof, which Gilda hesitantly wrapped a paw around in a hoof-shake.

Gilda yelped, pulling away, her feathers and fur standing on end. Pinkie giggled, revealing the buzzer. Rainbow joined in on the giggling, though it clear through Gilda's facial expression that she was furious.

“Hm,” Marjoram's eyes were narrow as he took in the scene.

“What do you think?” Rarity asked.

“Too soon to tell,” Marjoram replied, downing the last of his punch.

Rarity nodded, suddenly feeling uneasy.

Pinkie turned to where the majority of the ponies were standing, “This is Gilda, everypony! She's the guest of honour, so please make sure she feels like she belongs! Please help yourself!”

Rainbow threw a leg around Gilda's neck, smiling. Gilda smiled as well, though her smile seemed forced. Gilda broke away from Rainbow to look at the copious amounts of food and drink that had been laid out.

“Don't mind if I do!” Gilda smiled a mean, seemingly genuine, smile. She forwent the desert plates Pinkie had provided, and took several pastries and began to eat them, staring down anypony who looked ready to mention her lack of manners. She began to make her way through the room, taking food or drink from the various tables scattered around the room.

Marjoram stood, moving slowly. Rarity looked at him in concern, “Do you need anything-”

“I'm fine, thank you,” Marjoram replied coolly, setting his cup down, “I'm just going-”

“Hey, G! This is Rarity and Marjoram,” Rainbow gestured to the pair of unicorns, “Rarity is from here, but Marjoram's from Canterlot. He's Twilight's teacher.”
Gilda looked at Marjoram with disbelieving eyes, “Uh-huh.”

Marjoram offered a curt nod, “Hello, Gilda.”

Gilda sneered, “Hello,” her husky voice bordered on being polite.

Marjoram's neutral expression turned into one that made Rarity nervous. He cleared his throat, “I think I'm going to get some of those vanilla lemon drops-”

“I think I'll have some of those,” Gilda interrupted, snatching a handful for herself. She gulped them down, them made a distressing noise, “Hot!”

“The punch!” Rainbow pointed.

Gilda ran to the nearest punch bowl. Grabbing a glass of punch, she tried to drink it down, but it was a dribble glass, spilling punch all down the feathers of her chest. Gilda nearly threw the glass down, and ran to the other bowl, filling a glass and knocking it back with barely a thought. She panted for breath, leveling a glare at Pinkie Pie, before offering a reassuring, fake smile to Rainbow.

Marjoram laughed, though far quieter, with the others. Gilda looked angry, but didn't seem to want to blow up at anypony yet. Gilda drank another glass of punch, then stuck closer to Rainbow for a while. Things were quiet for a bit, then Pinkie brought out the cake.

Spike stared up from the ground at the large cake, his eyes taking it in, “Can I blow out the candles?!”

“We should let Gilda blow them out, Spike,” Twilight admonished, “She's the guest of honour-”

“Yes, I am,” Gilda said, sliding over and shoving Spike out of the way. She inhaled, and tried to blow the candles out. They relit after every try, and the room erupted into laughter.

Gilda fumed silently at the attention, angry that whomever had set the pranks had apparently singled her out. Once again, Rainbow Dash's approval of the prank calmed her down. Though it looked like she threatened Pinkie behind the cake.

Marjoram wandered over, and ended up being right in Gilda's way. She rammed into him in full force, sending him sprawling onto the wooden floor. The impact knocked the breath from him, leaving him gasping on the floor.

Gilda let out a snarl, “Get out of my way, dweeb!”

Marjoram was unable to reply, though he glared up at her through the strands of his mane that covered his face.

“That was uncalled for!” Rarity moved forward, glaring at Gilda.

Gilda flipped her feathers out of her eyes, and moved on, muttering “Whatever,” under her breath.

When Marjoram caught his breath, he stood up, glaring daggers at Gilda. A delicate cough from Rarity drew his ire.
“What?”

“Shouldn't we tell Rainbow Dash what just happened?”

“Would she believe me?” Marjoram retorted.

Rarity was silent, for she wasn't sure of the answer herself. The pair watched in silence as Pinkie announced that they would all play Pin the Tail on the Pony. Marjoram had to fight not to roll his eyes at the childish game, and Rarity seemed to be in a similar situation.

A pony Marjoram didn't know very well tried to pick up the purple tail, asking if anyone minded if she went first. Gilda beat her to picking up the tail, loudly declaring that she wanted to go first because she was the guest of honour.

Pinkie agreed, and in under thirty seconds, had Gilda blindfolded and spun around. She hastily explained the rules, and guided Gilda to the poster, “Here, it's straight ahead. Good luck!”

Gilda snorted, turning on her heel to face the opposite direction, “Yeah right. This is going to be a stupid prank!”

Despite the protests of many ponies, Gilda continued going the wrong way. She stepped on something, and slipped, landing in the remnants of the cake. She flung off the blindfold, and let out a roar that silenced the laughter of the ponies.

“I'm sick and tired of you lame-brains and your stupid party!” Gilda shouted, “This was all a set-up for those no-brainer pranks, and I've had enough. C'mon Dash, let's go. We can go be cool on our own.”

Rainbow looked perplexed, “I set up those pranks, Gilda. They weren't all meant for you.”

Gilda looked taken aback, “C'mon, you're pulling my tail. This was Pinkie Pie's fault! She wanted to teach me a lesson!”

Pinkie stepped through the crowd, “I hoped a party would change your attitude, that's all.”

Gilda sputtered as Rainbow stepped forward to stand in front of her, “Clearly it didn't work. This isn't how I thought an old friend would treat my new ones.”

Gilda's uncertainty turned to anger, “Well...you're-you're a flip-flop. You're cool one minute, and a dweeb the next! You'd choose to hang around these lame-brain, weak ponies, rather than with me!? Let me know when you decide to be cool again, then maybe we'll talk!” with that, Gilda spun around, and left, slamming the door behind her.

Rainbow, looking ashamed, turned to the mass of ponies behind her, “I'm sorry, guys. I thought she'd be…cool with everypony. Apparently not. I'm sorry she ruined your party, Pinkie.”

Pinkie shrugged, “It's okay. We can still have fun, right everypony!?”

There was a cheer from the crowd, and things settled down. Marjoram went to leave, his part in the whole thing done, when a hoof touched his shoulder. Marjoram was surprised to see it was Rainbow, an odd look on her face.

“I'm sorry she pushed you down-”

“Don't apologize for her,” Marjoram replied evenly, “I've lived through worse.”

“But-”

“No,” Marjoram shook his head, “Enjoy your party.”

Before Rainbow could say anything else, Marjoram was already leaving, plodding down the cobblestone road. Feeling disquiet, Rainbow was pulled back into the party by Pinkie.

Soon after, Rainbow forgot about that odd feeling.

Author's Note

I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. Please let me know what you think.

Dragonshy and an Interlude

“We need to make you healthier,” Twilight stated bluntly, one morning while making breakfast.

“How do you propose we manage that?” Marjoram retorted, turning the page of his book.

“We'll put you on some sort of regime,” Twilight replied, levitating a written-on scroll in front of her so she could read it, “Like supplementing your diet with vitamins, nutrients, and calories. Maybe get you to do some light exercise-”

“Like what?” Marjoram snarled, “I can't run, I couldn't lift weights even when I was relatively healthy, and I can barely walk across the room and still have breath enough to talk. What do you suppose we do?”

Twilight leveled Marjoram a steely glare, “Well, we'll work on the nutrition first. Then get to building any type of muscle or endurance later.”

Marjoram shook his head, “Twilight, I've never been physically strong-”

“We can still try. Last winter almost killed you,” Twilight's voice broke, “and I don't want you to go through that again, or to see you die. Not for a long time, anyway.”

Marjoram set the book down, his gold eyes meeting Twilight's purple ones, “Alright, then. I can't deny you that.”

Twilight blinked, “Seriously?”

“I watched as my sister died. I-I can't ask you to do the same with me.”

Twilight offered a hesitant smile, “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet,” Marjoram retorted, turning back to the book.

“Why?”

“My body hates me,” Marjoram replied evenly. Marjoram shut the book, and stood, “I think I have some work to do in the morgue. If you need me, I'll be there.”

Twilight stared as Marjoram all but galloped from the room, barely pausing to grab his cloak on the way out. Twilight sighed, not surprised at his sudden departure. Waiting a moment to ensure Marjoram was really gone, she made her way to her lab, and began to plan.

(LINE BREAK)

Using his magic, Marjoram set about scrubbing down the whole place, even though he kept it immaculate anyway. Mid-clean, a sharp knocking on his front door made Marjoram stop what he was doing.

Marjoram was panting for breath, as he'd opted to do most of the cleaning physically, and since he was doing it all fueled by emotions, he was doing it quickly. Marjoram sighed, and took a calming breath, trying to regulate his rapid, wheezing breath.

The knock sounded again, prompting Marjoram to answer the door, “What?”

It was Mayor Mare, looking rather nervous. Marjoram forced himself to relax a little, seeing her startled face at his harsh exclamation.

“I apologize. You're Marjoram, correct? You work, and own, this...place?”

“Yes,” Marjoram replied dryly, “I'm the mortician, and Celestia sent me here because I'm Twilight's teacher, as well as the fact that Ponyville is another prime spot for my type of business.”

The mayor shuffled her weight from hoof to hoof for a moment, before nodding reluctantly, “It's just, I realized I haven't properly met you, or Twilight, yet, and I decided I should better do so-”

“The next election season isn't soon, is it? I haven't seen any campaign posters.”

Mayor Mare sputtered, “No! That's not-”

Marjoram chuckled, “No. I didn't think so. You really are here to talk to me aren't you? Don't give me that look; I'm from Canterlot, and I worked in the palace. I can recognize a politician who's in it for themselves in a heartbeat.”

Mayor Mare stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck, before finally nodding slowly, “I want to at least have a name to a face for everypony in Ponyville. That's all.”

Marjoram nodded, “Twilight should be in the library.”

Before Mayor Mare could reply, Marjoram had shut the door. Marjoram got back to work, leaving a bewildered Mayor outside his office.

Marjoram returned to cleaning, and was undisturbed for the rest of the afternoon. When he returned to the library, he found Twilight sitting at the little-used kitchen table, an assortment of potion bottles in front of her.

Marjoram hung his head, “How many of these will I have to take a day?”

“All of them,” Twilight replied, “If you continue to not eat, or sleep, or take care of yourself. The goals of most of these are to help you with appetite, sleeping, and other basic things you need. Like sufficient calorie intake. Hopefully, your body will relearn how to do some of this stuff relatively quickly, so we can cut the list down.

Marjoram sighed, “Alright. Let's get this started.”

Twilight offered an encouraging smile, and began to explain what each potion did, when it should be taken, and how often.

(LINE BREAK)

The next morning, Marjoram woke up feeling sluggish, and tired. Looking at the clock through blurred vision, Marjoram could see that it was almost nine-thirty in the morning. Laying back down, Marjoram wondered briefly what could have woken him from such a rare, and sound, sleep. Inhaling as deeply as he dared, Marjoram began to cough. And he knew what had woken him.

Smoke. It wasn't visible, but he could smell it, and could feel the ashes settle into the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe. Marjoram stumbled to his hooves, and managed to get upstairs before another fit of coughing basically rendered him useless.

Twilight came running, “Oh, thank Celestia! I was just going to get you. There's a dragon on the nearby mountain. He blows smoke when he snores, and if-”

Marjoram silenced her with a glare, fighting for breath, still coughing.

Using her magic, Twilight practically dragged Marjoram outside, where the coughing immediately got worse. Stopping, Twilight thought for a moment, then shot a spell at Marjoram.

Marjoram stopped coughing, breathing steadily, “Thank you so much for dragging me out where the smoke it,” Marjoram stated dryly.

Twilight looked sheepish, “Sorry.”

“What's that spell?”

“Air purification. It filters out the air in front of your mouth and nose, effectively upping the oxygen that is being breathed in. I wouldn't stand near any open flames until this is dealt with.”

Marjoram nodded, “Fair enough. Keep that spell in mind this winter, would you? Could have used that coupled with the oxygen tank when I got pneumonia last fall.”

“I didn't know it then!” Twilight defended.

“I'm not blaming you,” Marjoram amended, “It's just-” he looked up at the ever darkening sky, “You should probably go deal with that. If it's a dragon, it's probably good if I stay here. Away from the flames that could possibly set me on fire from the inside out.”

Twilight nodded in agreement, “The girls and I are going to check it out. Can you stay here, help Spike take care of Fluttershy's animals, and write to the Princess if something goes wrong?”

“Of course,” Marjoram replied.

Twilight nodded, “I've got to get ready. If you can go to Fluttershy's house, Spike will probably be there already-”

“Go, Twilight!” Marjoram nudged her toward the library, “Go deal with this before I suffocate on the ash and smoke. You've got this.”

“You think so? It is a dragon we're dealing with,” Twilight protested weakly.

Marjoram's mind was screaming no, let me help, but Marjoram also knew he would be beyond useless in the venture, “Yes, I'm sure. You can handle this.”

“Okay...thanks,” Twilight smiled, “I've got-”

“Just go,” Marjoram urged, “I'll go to Fluttershy's-”

“Okay, okay! I've got so much to do,” Twilight muttered to herself, trotting into the library.

Marjoram sighed, looked up at the thick black smoke hovering over Ponyville like a cloud, and shuddered. I hope you can fix this, Twilight. If you don't. I'll be dead. Feeling resigned to the situation, and still trying to wake up, Marjoram began to trudge over to Fluttershy's cottage.

(LINE BREAK)

That evening, when Twilight returned from the exhausting day of climbing the mountain, trying to calm Fluttershy down, and figuring out how to negotiate with a dragon, she entered the library unsure of what to expect.

Twilight wasn't certain on if Marjoram and Spike would still be at Fluttershy's, or if they would be in the library. If the pair was at Fluttershy's, the pegasus was going to send one of her bird friends with a letter. If they were at Twilight's, Twilight would magic a note over to Fluttershy.

The lights were off in the library, but that wasn't surprising. Unless somepony was in there, they kept the lights off. Twilight set her saddle-bags down near the door, and entered the living space. The kitchen lights were off, but Twilight could see that the basement lights were on, and Marjoram's door was open.

Creeping down the stairs, Twilight found Marjoram curled up on his bed, his upper torso being propped up by cushions to help him breathe. A book was open on the bed beside him, though he seemed asleep. Spike was curled up in his basket, which had been moved from upstairs to beside Marjoram's bed. Spike had one of his school books spread across his lap. He was passed out as well, snoring heavily.

Twilight smiled, and used her magic to turn the light off. Yes, it could potentially mess up Spike's carefully constructed sleep schedule, but the occasional night of more than required sleep wouldn't hurt a growing dragon, and Marjoram needed all the sleep he could get.

Quietly going back upstairs, Twilight went to her own bedroom, her whole body aching from the large amount of exercise she'd done in such a short time. Scrawling a note to Celestia, and sending it with her magic, Twilight then wrote Fluttershy. Checking her checklist, Twilight crawled into bed and shut off the light.

Twilight was asleep seconds after her head touched the pillow.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram winced at the taste of his last morning potion, mentally congratulating himself on not throwing the mix of foul mixtures up afterward. Twilight was looking at him expectantly, her eyes wide with hope.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Marjoram replied evenly, furiously rubbing his tongue on the roof of his mouth, trying to get the awful tastes from his tongue, “is there an instantaneous effect?”

Twilight drooped a little, “Well, no, but-”

“Then we give it some time,” Marjoram stated flatly, “Anything I should know about? Side-effects, that sort of thing?”

Twilight shrugged, “Not your morning ones. One of your nighttime ones is supposed to make you drowsy, so we'll see how that goes tonight.”

Marjoram nodded slowly, sitting down on the hard kitchen chair, “You never told me how you guys defeated that dragon.”

Twilight laughed sheepishly, refusing to make eye contact, “Well, we didn't really defeat him… Fluttershy just convinced him to go have his nap elsewhere.”

“Uh huh. I'm sure that's all that happened,” Marjoram returned blandly, “Just tell me sometime soon, alright? I want to know how Fluttershy stood up to a fully grown dragon.”

Twilight nodded, “Will do. Eventually.”

“Right,” Marjoram said sarcastically, “Anyway. I should go do something productive.”

“Why?” Twilight returned, “I know you don't have anything in the morgue. Don't you have a hobby?”

Marjoram shrugged, “Not really. I was usually too sick, too busy, or both to really pick one up.”

“C'mon. You've got to be joking. Not even from before you got sick?”

Marjoram opened his mouth, then shut it, “I uh, I used to draw,” he admitted slowly.

Twilight smiled, “Well then, let's go get you a sketchbook and some pencils.”

“But-”

Twilight guided the protesting unicorn toward the door, “C'mon. I read a lot of books, all kinds. That's my hobby.”

“But, I read too!”

“Then this can be a second hobby,” Twilight was stubborn, levitating Marjoram's cloak onto his back, “Goodness knows you can use something else to do.”

Marjoram let out an exasperated noise, “But-”

Twilight opened the door, and trotted out, climbing into the set of saddle-bags she had brought from the kitchen, “It'll be fun. When was the last time you did something because it was fun?”

Marjoram sighed, his head close to the ground, “Fine,” he mumbled, begrudgingly following Twilight out the door.

Mere minutes later, Twilight was gushing over different kinds, shapes, and sizes of sketchbooks, while Marjoram was looking at the pencils specifically designed for art. Part of him winced at the prices, but another part of him figured it would be worth it. Pay a little more now, and I don't have to worry about it later.

After some debating, the pair paid for the art supplies and returned to the library. Twilight watched with a smug smile as Marjoram sat down, and began to doodle.

(LINE BREAK)

Later that night, Marjoram lay in bed, swallowing convulsively whenever his stomach lurched. Drowsy my ass. Dizzy...I'm going to kill that mare.

Marjoram squeezed his eyes shut, trying to lessen the effects of the evening potions. His head felt like it was floating, and if he moved his head it felt like it was spinning. Shutting his eyes didn't help, only increasing the feeling that he was going to puke.

Marjoram rubbed at his stomach with a hoof, trying to ease it, even just a little. I'm never going to get to sleep at this rate. Moving slowly, Marjoram turned his head to look out the small window, noting that the sky was beginning to lighten already. Joy. I even went to bed relatively early. Marjoram bit his tongue to stop himself from throwing up, slowly moving his head again into a more comfortable position.

Marjoram sighed, and stared up at the ceiling until he eventually fell asleep.

Author's Note

I don't know what to think of this chapter. Part of me likes it, part of me doesn't. It's basically filler, trying to set stuff up while still moving through season 1.

I'll be doing Look Before You Sleep or Boast Busters (maybe?) next chapter. If not one of those two, it will likely be Bridle Gossip.

Anyway, don't be shy! Let me know what you think, how you think I can improve, etc. I like hearing what everyone is thinking.

Busting Boasters

Marjoram watched as the blue mare dressed in extravagant, purple magician's clothes pulled a wagon passed the library, briefly wondering if she was a traveling showpony. Even now, with nothing beyond the bright displays on her wagon to draw in others, ponies were beginning to stop her and ask questions.

Marjoram pulled himself away from the window, and wandered into the main room of the library, where Twilight was practicing her new magic tricks. An easel with the tricks names was set up beside Spike, and all of them but the last had a checkmark beside it.

“C'mon, Twilight! You can do it!” Spike encouraged, holding the marker in his claws.

Twilight widened her stance, and concentrated. Marjoram watched as Spike's muzzle and Twilight's horn lit up with purple magic, and a mustache appeared on Spike's face. Spike let out a triumphant cheer, checking off the last trick on the list before moving to the nearby mirror, stroking his mustache thoughtfully.

“Good work. Growing magic, that makes twenty-five new tricks.” Marjoram stated, garnering a sheepish, if triumphant smile from Twilight.

“It's nothing,” Twilight blushed.

“It's not nothing!” Spike exclaimed, stroking the mustache, “It's awesome! I think this one is my favourite. I'll really impress Rarity with this.”

“Sorry, Romeo,” Marjoram replied dryly, his horn lighting up, “it's got to go.”

“But- awww,” Spike felt the place where the thick mustache had been seconds earlier, pouting a little.

Twilight giggled at the display, “Can you teach me how to dispell other ponies complex spells soon? I'm pretty sure I have the simple spells down, but-”

“I will after you show me what you can do,” Marjoram replied, “And I'll ask Rarity to provide a few spells for you to undo. You're more acclimatized to my magic than you think.”

An odd look briefly passed over Twilight's features, but Marjoram thought nothing of it, assuming it was her usual anxiety about tests and the like.

“Can we go to lunch now?” Spike asked, setting the marker down, “It's been a while since breakfast.”

“Of course,” Twilight offered a big smile, “Wanna come, Marjoram? I hear the Cakes tried out a new croissant recipe.”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway. It had been a few weeks since they had begun the new regime of potions, but he was already noticing a few improvements in his overall health, including a slight increase in appetite, “Sure.”

Twilight smile turned into a true, happy one.

While Twilight fetched her coin purse, Spike looked at the trick list, then at Marjoram, “I thought unicorns could only learn a few magic tricks that centered around their special talent.”

“Yes. Rarity, for instance, specializes in magic focused around fashion. However, for Twilight and I, our special talents are magic, so we excel at it at all levels.”

Spike nodded, “That makes sense.”

“No problem. Don't let me forget, I think Twilight mentioned showing you some of Starswirl the Bearded spells soon. I might need your help in finding some of his spellbooks.”

Spike brightened, “Of course! I'm always happy to help!”

“I know,” Marjoram sighed, then moved to the door, “C'mon, might as well wait near the door. Twilight might be hungry enough after all that magic to skin whomever stands in her way.”

“She wouldn't, would she?”

“No. That's just an exaggeration.”

Twilight trotted down the stairs, coin purse held aloft by her magic, “Are we ready?!”

“Yes!” Both Marjoram and Spike replied in unison.

Twilight giggled, and opened the door, allowing her friends to exit before her. She shut the door behind them, and the walk to Sugarcube Corner commenced.

On the way to Sugarcube Corner, however, they ran into Snips and Snails, two schoolponies who were often getting themselves into trouble because they didn't think much before acting. They were nice boys, however, and had come to the library together on several occasions, both for school and for pleasure.

They were running towards the direction of Town Square, and had knocked Spike to the ground.

“Sorry about that, Spike!” Snails drawled.

“Yeah!” Snips exclaimed.

“What's the rush?” Spike asked, rubbing his back.

“Didn't you hear? There's a new unicorn in town! She's supposed to be the most magical mare in Equestria, and she's putting on a show in the Town Square.”

Twilight and Marjoram shared a look, and Spike guffawed, “Twilight here is the most magical mare!”

Twilight blushed, “Oh, Spike!”

“C'mon! The show is starting!” Snails said excitedly before taking off again, Snips following.

“Should we?” Twilight asked.

“Probably,” Marjoram replied, “We'll get lunch after.”

Spike shrugged, “Okay.”

The trio trotted to the Town Square, leaving Marjoram breathless and panting by the time they got to the front of the crowd where Twilight's friends were.

The wagon Marjoram had seen the blue mare carting by had been unfolded into a stage, where there was gaudy decorations, and places for magic to shoot out whenever the person who set them gave a light magical signal.

Marjoram sighed. She cannot be serious.

From behind the blue curtain, a grandiose (clearly forcefully so), announced, “Come one, come all, to see the awesome powers of the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

Oh sweet Creators, she's even rolling her 'r's. Marjoram felt the urge to smash his head off the nearest hard object, but shook himself from it when the performance began.

A puff of grey, sparkling smoke prefaced the arrival of Trixie, who was the mare Marjoram had seen pulling the cart. Now that he could see her properly, Marjoram almost let out a groan; her clothing, while gaudy, was cheap, and her Cutie Mark practically announced that her special talent lay in flashy, performance magic.

“Watch in awe as the Great and Powerful Trixie performs the most spectacular feats of magic ponykind has ever seen!” As if to emphasize how not impressive she was, some of the devices Marjoram had seen earlier went off, fireworks going off above the stage, raining sparkles down on the crowd of assembled ponies.

Ponies 'oohed' and 'ahhed', and Marjoram seriously hoped they were either payed ponies to do such things, or ponies who were just playing along for the benefit of the children.

“My, my, my,” Rarity looked less than pleased with the first magics herself, “What boasting.”

“Come on! Nopony is as magical as Twi-” Spike's eyes widened as he looked at Rarity. His cheeks turned red with embarrassment, and he muttered something else before hiding behind Marjoram.

“There's nothing wrong with being talented, right?” Twilight asked.

“Of course not!” Applejack responded, “but there's no use in flaunting them like that mare.”

“Just because one has the ability to perform lots of magic, does not mean that they are better than everypony else.”

“Especially when there's me around,” Rainbow butt in. At the glares from the others, she offered a sheepish laugh, “I-uh- mean. Yeah! Magic, shmagic!”

Trixie stopped her performance, her nostrils flaring in anger, “Well, it seems we have naysayers! What pony would be brave enough to challenge the Great and Powerful Trixie!? The most powerful mare in Equestria?!”

Marjoram snorted, “Yeah right.”

“Especially since we know Twilight is the most powerfu-” Twilight dragged Spike away, muttering something about not wanting to be boastful like Trixie. Marjoram made a mental note to explain the differences for her, then turned his attention back to the stage.

Rainbow flew up to the stage, so she could look Trixie in the eye, “So, 'Great and Powerful' Trixie, what makes you so much better than everypony else!?”

Trixie let out a little laugh, “Only the Great and Powerful Trixie has defeated an Ursa Major!” To emphasize her words, one of the devices shot out a blue, completely inaccurate, rendering of an Ursa Major, “When the ponies in Puffingtom had no one to turn to, the Great and Powerful Trixie stepped in and used her magic to vanquish the beast, and sent it back to its lair in the Everfree Forest!”

Snips and Snails jumped in front of the stage, “That proves it! The Great and Powerful Trixie really is the most powerful unicorn in all of Equestria!”

“How do you know?!” Spike protested, “you weren't even there! Besides, Twi-”

Twilight magically turned Spike's mouth into a zipper, and zipped it closed, earning identical glares from both Spike and Marjoram.

Trixie laughed, “Then Trixie is the most powerful in all of Ponyville! If you don't believe in the might of the Great and Powerful Trixie, I hearby challenge you to prove me wrong! Anything you can do, I can do better! Any takers? Or is Trixie destined to be the best equine that has ever lived!?” At that proclamation, more fireworks ensued.

“I can't stand this anymore!” Applejack hollered. She fetched a nearby rope, and hopped onto the stage, “Can yer fancy magic do this?!” Using her tail, Applejack showed off her amazing roping skills, fetching an apple, and eating it in one bite.

The cheer from the audience was deafening, and Marjoram couldn't help but feel a little smug, “Top that!” Applejack dared.

Trixie scoffed, levitating her hat off with light pink magic. Snake charmer's music began to play, and the discarded rope acted like a snake would. One end kept Applejack's focus, while the other fetched another apple. One end tied Applejack up, and the other forced the apple into her mouth.

Trixie smiled as Applejack did her best to get off the stage, “Once again, the Great and Powerful Trixie proves herself to the masses. Unless there's anypony else who wishes to challenge me?”

“There's no need to strut your stuff like that! At least not with me around!” With that, Rainbow took to the air, doing quite a bit of precision flying, before landing on the stage. A bunch of water droplets hit her, and a rainbow appeared over her head, “They don't call me 'Rainbow', or 'Dash' for nothing!”

Again, the applause was deafening. Trixie smiled, and the music changed to that of an upbeat polka. The rainbow wrapped itself around Rainbow Dash, and became a tornado, flinging Rainbow to the ground.

Marjoram grit his teeth. This is going to far, even if that was rather amusing-

“We need another unicorn to challenge her!” Spike stated, “Someone with some magic of her own,” Spike nudged Twilight's side.

“I will not!” Rarity said suddenly, “Rainbow and Applejack may behave like ruffians, but I act with dignity and grace.”

“Afraid you'll get a hair out of place, in the rats nest you call a mane?” Trixie taunted.

“Oh. It. Is. On,” Rarity growled. She trotted to the stage, “Being a unicorn is more than you'll ever imagine,” Rarity began, taking Trixie's curtain down with her own magic, “We need to have style, we need to have grace.”

The fabric flew around Rarity, briefly concealing her from the audience. When the fabric disappeared, Rarity could be seen, with her hair in an elegant updo, wearing a blue and golden outfit, clearly crafted with magic and the curtain. Marjoram couldn't help but be mildly impressed. Not bad.

Trixie shot a bolt at Rarity, and the crowd gasped in horror. Spike was speechless. Even Marjoram winced.

“QUICK! I need a mirror!” Rarity called, “What did she do!? I know she did something to my mane!”

“It's green,” Spike stated simply.

“No!” Rarity's one elegant purple mane, was now a seaweed green shaped into rats nest atop her head.

Marjoram strode forward, using his own magic to repair the damage, “This has gone on long enough!”

Twilight let out a little squeak, trying to mutter something about not showing off. Marjoram ignored it.

Rarity thankfully left the stage, stroking her mane.

“You would challenge me?” Trixie taunted, “You look like a stiff breeze could blow you over! You will be no match for me!”

Marjoram smirked, “I'd seriously doubt that,” he stated dryly, “I'm the first student of two that Celestia has taken in the last hundred years. I've been studying with her since I was a young colt, and so you want to know something?”

Trixie's face had fallen. She looked nervous now.

“That wasn't an Ursa Major you apparently defeated. The image you showed was an Ursa Minor!”

Trixie sputtered, “How would you know!?”

“Because I've studied them!” Marjoram focused his magic, and thought hard about what an Ursa Major looked like. A shimmering, golden, see-through replica of an Ursa Major appeared.

Trixie sat down hard on the stage, having to do so to see the beast in its entirety. Holding the image, Marjoram thought of an Ursa Minor, and it appeared beside its parent, showing off the major size differences between the two.

Marjoram had excelled at such magic when he was young, using such replicas to tell stories to Carnation, Kafir, and later Spike and Twilight. He'd also used them in his lessons, to show battle formations, developments of cities, and other such illustrations.

Just for scale, Marjoram thought of the dragon he'd seen fleeing the mountain cave after Twilight and her friends had convinced it to leave. It was bigger than the Minor, but quite a bit smaller than the Major.

Letting the magic fade, Marjoram offered a smirk, “So, I sincerely doubt any of your claims have any truth to them!”

Trixie opened her mouth, then shut it a few times. She let out a squeak, then magically shoved Marjoram from the stage, sending him tumbling to the ground. With a burst of speed, and some magic, Trixie packed up her wagon, and began carting it out of town at full speed.

Marjoram lay on the cobblestones, unable to breathe. Twilight rushed to help him, and he was soon back on his hooves, breathing shallowly.

“Should we go after her?” Applejack asked.

Marjoram shook his head, “No...let her think about...what happened.”

“Why?” Rainbow asked incredulously.

“I've probably just damaged her reputation irreparably. She'll figure it out,” Marjoram sighed, then turned to Twilight, “You could have easily shut her up, Twilight, why didn't you?”

Twilight froze in place, her face turning red from the sudden attention from her friends, “I-uh. Well, I didn't want to show off like Trixie.”

“Sugarcube, there's a difference between showing off needlessly and protecting your friends. There's even differences in how you show off. I've seen you practicing, and showing off what you've learned, but you don't mean to make anypony feel bad about what they can't do. Trixie was meaner than a rattler snake.”

“Yeah, Twi,” Rainbow stated, “It would have been more than fine if you tried to show her your stuff!”

Marjoram offered a small smile, “I grew up with siblings. You learn the differences pretty quickly.”

Applejack chuckled, “That you do. Are you alright?”

Marjoram's head, centering at his horn, flared in pain. Marjoram's limbs suddenly felt like jelly, and he sat down hard, wheezing for breath, and squeezing his eyes shut.

Twilight gasped. A flash of magic, and she teleported away. A moment later, she was back, stumbling a little as she teleported a few inches off the ground. She uncorked a vial of potion, and shoved it in Marjoram's mouth.

Marjoram drank it down without protest, and withing moments his limbs were already feeling normal, and the migraine had died down.

“What in the hell was that?” Rainbow asked.

“Don't know yet,” Twilight replied quickly, “I'm still trying to figure it out.”

Marjoram levered himself to his feet, “We promised Spike we'd go get lunch.”

At the mention of food, Spike's stomach growled loudly. He blushed and giggled nervously.

Twilight banished the potion vial, “Yeah. C'mon. Would you girls like to join us?”

Marjoram felt a twinge of annoyance at the invitation, but bit his lip. So much for a nice quiet lunch.

Author's Note

I really didn't enjoy trying to write Trixie, even though she's packed full of potential.

Please let me know what you think!

Visit to Canterlot

Marjoram triple-checked his luggage, then did the same for Spike's small suitcase. Looking at the lists Twilight had made, he noted that everything had been packed. Marjoram gathered the two bags, and set them by the front door.

“Spike, if you don't hurry we're going to miss the train!” Marjoram called.

Spike ran down the stairs, clutching a package of comics in his claws, “Sorry! I wanted to grab the newest set!”

“It's alright. We'll see you later, Twilight. Remember that nasty storm starts this afternoon, so make sure that lighting rod is ready.”

“I will. Do you have enough of your potions? Did you take the anti-motion sickness ones?”

“Of course I did,” Marjoram replied, “and yes, I have enough for three days at my current doses, just in case. I've got everything on the list, and so does Spike. We'll see you tomorrow, or maybe the day after if the storm wrecks the train lines.”

“Have fun! Tell Sea Shores and the Princesses I say hi!”

“I'll let Donut Joe you say hi, too,” Spike interrupted, “Now, let's go! I can't wait to get back!”

Twilight smiled, “Of course. Have fun!”

Marjoram and Spike left the library, trotting to the train station. Boarding the train, they found the emptiest train car and sat down, putting their luggage under their seats. Spike began to read the newest issues of his favourite comics, as Marjoram began to doodle with his sketchbook.

Marjoram had only drawn parts of pony anatomy, wound marks, and the like since he was a colt. As such, he found himself very skilled at drawing ponies. He also found himself better at drawing with a reference at hoof, rather than trying to draw something without anything to base it off of.

In the weeks since Twilight had bought the materials for him, he'd drawn quite a bit. From drawing Spike and Twilight, to the library, to the fountain in Town Square, he had drawn quite a bit, even if the drawings themselves weren't complete. Part of why he wanted to go to Canterlot was to pick up some more supplies, of higher quality, and to draw parts of Canterlot and some of the ponies the city housed.

When the train began to move, Marjoram couldn't help but convulsively swallow. Even though he wasn't nauseous, he still didn't feel comfortable on the train. Marjoram sighed, and began to concentrate harder on his drawings.

About halfway through the trip, Spike looked up from his third comic book, “So, what's the plan?”

“Visiting, shopping, then coming back to Ponyville,” Marjoram stated simply.

There was a pause, then Spike asked: “Why haven't you called Ponyville 'home' yet? We have been living there for a while now.”

Marjoram set his sketchbook down for a moment, “Do you know which ponies I consider part of my family?”

“Well,” Spike tapped a claw against his chin, “There's Sea Shores! And Princess Celestia,” Spike's face flushed red, “And Twilight and I? Right?”

Marjoram nodded, “Yes. That's correct. You and Twilight live in Ponyville, and for as long as you'll need me, I'll stay there. However, Celestia and Sea Shores are in Canterlot. Carnation is buried there, as is my other teacher. Canterlot will always be my home, Spike, even when we're not there. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Spike replied, picking up his comic book again. He suddenly smiled, and giggled to himself.

Marjoram ignored it, assuming the reaction was from Spike's comic book. Marjoram returned to his drawings, trying to figure out the exact shape of the hat the pony a few seats away was wearing.

(LINE BREAK)

Looking upon Canterlot for the first time in almost two months, made Marjoram feel more at home than he'd been since he'd left. Levitating his suitcase, and Spike's, the pair made their way to the palace.

“I'm so excited to be back!” Spike exclaimed, looking around at the grandiose buildings and fancy ponies, “it's been forever!”

“I'm happy to be back, too,” Marjoram replied, trying to keep his breathing steady. He smiled at the sight of the palace, “We should-”

“Marjoram! Spike!” Sea Shores flew over to the pair, appearing from nowhere, her wings flapping hard. She skidded to a halt, throwing her forelegs around Marjoram in a tight hug, “Oh! I've missed you so much!”

“I've missed you too,” Marjoram muttered into Sea Shores' neck.

Sea Shores pulled away, and hugged Spike tightly, her wings fluttering with excitement, “When you told me you two were coming back, I was so happy! I've made your favourite foods, and I've got some food that you can take back for Twilight, too-”

“Shores!” Marjoram interrupted, “Talk while walking. I'm sure Spike would like to hear all about this while eating.”

“You'd better eat, too,” Sea Shores stated, folding her wings against her sides, “I've just been so excited-”

“It's fine,” Marjoram smiled, “Really. I appreciate it.”

Shores returned the smile, “Thanks. Anyway, I've got a few new employees to tell you about...”

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram stared at the loaded plate Shores had just put in front of him. She really wasn't kidding about making my favourites. Cheese croissants, pasta, and a piece of garlic bread took up the majority of the plate space. Steamed carrots took up the rest, and even though Marjoram hadn't thought himself hungry, his stomach rumbled.

Spike's plate was similarly loaded down, and Marjoram couldn't help but wonder if the young dragon would eat everything on his plate. Shores sat beside Marjoram, her own plate piled high with food.

Taking a moment to look at the mare that had practically raised him, Marjoram was pleased to note Shores looked mostly unchanged. Her light blue coat was clean, and her short light purple mane and tail looked as well-kept as ever, even if they seemed to be streaked with more grey than Marjoram remembered.

“I like what you did with your tail,” Shores offered.

Marjoram smiled, beginning to pick at his plate, “You look good, too.”

Shores laughed, “You're just saying that.”

“I mean it. And your cooking has only gotten better.”

Spike nodded vigorously, giving Shores a thumbs up, as his mouth was full.

“You two spoil me. What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

“We're gonna go see the Princesses,” Spike said, taking a break, and drinking some of the juice Shores had set out, “Then we were gonna go shopping.”

Marjoram nodded in agreement, unable to reply because of a full mouth. Shores smiled and nodded, “That will be fun.”

Swallowing hard, Marjoram nearly choked himself trying to say, “You can come with us if you'd like.”

Shores giggled, “Sorry, darlings. I'd love too, but I still have a job to do. I'll see you both at dinner, though, right?”

Marjoram and Spike shared a look before nodding in unison, “Of course!” Spike exclaimed.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, only broken when Shores had to talk to one of her employees. When they were done, and Marjoram felt a fair amount of pride at the fact he'd eaten almost half of what he'd been given, Spike and Marjoram waved goodbye. They gathered their luggage, and dropped it off in the room that had been Marjoram's since he was a young colt.

That done, the pair made their way to the throne room, where Celestia and Luna were likely to be. Luckily for Marjoram and Spike, the sisters didn't seem to be too busy when they entered.

Celestia stood, a warm smile gracing her features, “Marjoram, Spike! I hoped your train hadn't been delayed, did Sea Shores keep you?”

Marjoram nodded, “She fed us.”

“It's the same thing, really,” Spike scratched the top of his head, mindlessly realigning some of his spines.

Celestia chuckled, “Well, I'm glad you two could make it back. How are you two? Twilight doesn't say much in her friendship letters.”

Spike shrugged, “I can't complain.”

“I'm fine.”

Princess Luna stood up herself, clearing her throat, “We would like to welcome you back to Canterlot.”

“Thank you,” Marjoram replied, “It's nice to see you again.”

Luna offered a hesitant smile, “My sister has been filling us in on the goings on of Equestria since we were banished. She told us that you are one of only two morticians in this area.”

Marjoram nodded, “It's true.”

“That is good, such a profession is highly useful, in any time.”

Celestia smiled down at Luna, then turned her attention back to Spike and Marjoram, “I assume you're coming back for dinner. We can all chat afterwords if you'd like. I'm sure you and Spike have plans for the rest of the afternoon.”

“We do. We can catch up more after dinner. Come on, Spike. We've got some shopping to do.”

Marjoram and Spike left the throne room, once again leaving the two princesses alone.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram put the last of his new art supplies into his saddle-bags, and looked around to see if Spike had finished looking at the little hand-painted figurines the art shop sold. Finding Spike standing near the door, Marjoram ushered him outside.

“Alright, so we've been to the comic store, the bookstore, and the art store. We can stop at Donut Joe's on the way back to Ponyville. Anything else?”

“I can't think of anything- oh wait. Do you know when we'll be back in Canterlot?” Spike asked, his eyes suddenly bright.

“I'm not sure. We'll probably be back in time for Hearth's Warming, why?”

“Um, I want to get your birthday present here, if its okay,” Spike said slowly, “But you've got to stay here while I go get it.”

Marjoram blinked, “But, my birthday isn't until December-”

“But it's before Hearth's Warming!” Spike protested, “Please?”

Marjoram nodded, “Alright. If you're not back in twenty minutes, I'm going to go searching for you.”

“I'll be right back! I know exactly what I'm getting for you!” Spike took off, weaving expertly through the crowds of ponies.

Marjoram moved away to sit on the ledge of the nearest fountain, and breathed in the scents of Canterlot: fragrant flowers, scented water, and baked goods, all with an undertone of the stone that the entire city was made of.

Marjoram watched as the crowds went about their business. I can't believe I missed the hustle and bustle. A few minutes later, Spike came back, carrying a thick, blank, canvas bag, “You're not allowed to know!”

Marjoram chuckled, “I won't.”

“Promise?” Spike pushed.

“I promise.”

“Good,” Spike immediately brightened, “Are we ready to go back to the castle, then?”

“Unless you have something else to go get, I'm good,” Marjoram stood up, wincing at his body's not-so-subtle protests at the movement, “We can chat with the Princesses and Shores some more.”

Spike clutched the canvas bag close to his chest as the pair walked slowly back to the castle.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram wasn't surprised that Sea Shores had basically gotten the kitchen to make an entire feast for five ponies, but he did find himself surprised at the variety. Marjoram didn't recognize some of the food, but both Luna and Celestia clearly did, navigating the table and the items on it without a problem.

Spike looked confused as well, but he took it in stride, adding a little of each dish to his plate. Marjoram sent a quick mental prayer to the Creators, and did the same.

“How was town?” Shores ventured, sipping from her crystal goblet.

“The same,” Spike replied, clumsily handling a crystal goblet of his own.

Marjoram nodded in agreement, poking at a purple blob on his plate before picking something that didn't jiggle. Is it just me, or does Celestia look...amused at this? Marjoram couldn't help but feel he and Spike were being teased and tested at the same time. Marjoram wasn't sure if he liked this feeling.

Sea Shores seemed to ignore the awkward mood that covered the dinner like a shroud, talking loudly about the experimental recipes she'd made, antics in the kitchen, and teasing Marjoram and Spike alike, and occasionally poking fun at Celestia, all while trying to drag Luna into the conversation.

Marjoram made a mental note to ask Celestia to award Shores with some type of medal for being able to carry a conversation with two alicorns, a baby dragon, and himself. Soon enough, everypony was done eating, and while Sea Shores cleared the table, the rest of the group retired to Celestia's private study.

Luna looked beyond uncomfortable, and seemed happy to bury her nose in a book. Marjoram couldn't help but feel the same, moving to scan Celestia's bookshelves, trying to find something he could read.

“Marjoram,” Celestia sat on her elegant couch, “Would you mind if we just talked?”

“Not at all,” Marjoram sat beside Celestia, making himself as comfortable as he could.

“How is Twilight? She hasn't said much in her letters. She's adjusting well to Ponyville, isn't she?”

Marjoram sighed, “She's about as good as she can get. She's adjusting well, surprisingly. I'd thought she would be having more problems than she's having.”

“And Spike?” Celestia gestured to the dragon who had moved to sit near Luna, and was cautiously asking her about the book she had picked out.

“More adjusted than Twilight. He's young.”

Celestia chuckled, “And you? You seem better than you have been in years.”

Marjoram grimaced, feeling a fleeting phantom sensation of the pain flaring throughout his body, “Sort of? Twilight has me on this regime of potions, trying to fortify me for winter, I suppose. It's starting to effect my magic now, Twilight says. She's got me on this supplement until she figures something else out.”

Celestia nodded, “Let her know I'm willing to help her research. I was hoping your illness would never effect your magic.”

Marjoram shrugged, “I think we both know it was only a matter of time. As long as I take the potion I'm alright. I'm having a good time of it, for now anyway, and I want to enjoy it.”

“Completely understandable,” Celestia smiled, “You go back to Ponyville tomorrow, correct?”

“Yes. Spike and I were planning on leaving here after breakfast, then stop on the way to Donut Joe's before we go onto the train. We'll be back before dinner time that way,” Marjoram sighed, “If you don't mind, I'd like to go see Carnation. I don't think I'll have time in the morning.”

“Of course,” Celestia gently nudged Marjoram off of the couch, “I'll make sure Spike goes to bed on time, so you don't have to rush.”

Marjoram nodded in thanks, and made his way to the graveyard.

(LINE BREAK)

When Marjoram entered the graveyard, he was surprised to see somepony standing in front of Carnation's grave. Moving cautiously, Marjoram realized it was Kafir. Marjoram's brother was dressed in his armour, his sword and saddle-bags tied tightly around his barrel, both in easily accessible places for an Earth Pony.

Marjoram cleared his throat, causing the usually calm warrior to jump. Kafir spun around, and his eyes widened at the sight of Marjoram, “Oh! I-I-”

“Where are you going?” Marjoram asked softly.

“Up north,” Kafir replied, “I wanted to say goodbye, to her, and let her know how sorry I am. And to give her this,” Kafir pointed to something at the base of Carnation's gravestone.

It was a small replica of a military badge, very similar to the one Carnation had lost in the fire that had nearly killed her and the rest of the family. It shone brightly in the moonlight, and Marjoram couldn't help but feel it was fitting.

Marjoram nodded in approval, “She would have liked it.”

Kafir reached into his saddle-bag, and pulled out a small box, “I got these a long time ago for you two, and I figured I could give them to you whenever I saw you again. I-I never thought that she would...die like that,” cautiously, almost unsure, Kafir handed the box to Marjoram, who took it with his magic.

“Thank you,” Marjoram murmured through numb lips, unsure of what to say.

Kafir offered his crooked smile. He turned his gaze back to Carnation's grave, and his smile slipped from his face, “Thank you for taking care of her,” he said slowly, “I don't know if you'll ever want to see me again, but I thought I should try to find you before I go, to tell you that.”

Marjoram's lips twitched, “Well, you know where I am now, in Ponyville,” Marjoram restlessly pawed at the ground, the grass feeling cool and damp under his hoof, “I guess you could come over when you're done. We should try to be polite to each other after all, for her.”

“I agree,” Kafir bent down and picked up his helm, putting it on with a practiced movement, “I should go. I have a train to catch. See you later, little brother.”

Marjoram watched as Kafir left, and continued to stare long after Kafir had disappeared from sight, and the sounds of the train could be heard leaving Canterlot. Marjoram sat in front of Carnation's grave and sighed, “What do you think is in here?”

Unsure of what to expect, Marjoram carefully opened the box. Inside, was nestled several stones, all rare and supposed to have magical properties. Marjoram's lips twitched into a smile, thinking back to when he would have given up a limb to possess a complete set of magical rocks, as was, it was still very valuable.

Looking closer, Marjoram began to identify them: agate, sapphire, garnet, moonstone, and jade, as well as several more. Marjoram couldn't help but laugh loudly, because all of the gems, crystals, and rocks, in some small way or another, symbolized good health.

Author's Note

I enjoy parts of this chapter, and I'm not a huge fan of other parts.
This chapter takes place during Look Before You Sleep.

I really enjoy getting comments and constructive criticism from you guys, so please don't be shy in telling me what you think.

Gossip is Very Stupid, Especially When You Can Just Ask

Several days later, Marjoram noted that the streets of Ponyville were empty once more, doors and windows locked. Marjoram sighed, but kept quiet while Spike and Twilight guessed at what could be causing Ponyville to be so deserted. Marjoram looked around, trying to see if he could spot Zecora's cloaked figure, but couldn't.

Twilight scoffed at the idea that zomponies had taken over the town, and Marjoram couldn't help but do the same. We really should stop Spike from reading those horror comics before bed.

“Psst!” Marjoram glanced at Sugarcube Corner, and noted the top half of the door was still open.

Twilight stopped, and looked into the darkened building as well, “What?-”

“Guys, come here!” Pinkie was barely visible in the darkness of the bakery, but she did gesture with a hoof. Marjoram couldn't help but roll his eyes, as Pinkie's stage whispers were almost at normal talking level.

Twilight paused, sharing a look of confusion with Spike. Pinkie gestured again, “C'mon, before she gets you!”

Twilight and Spike headed inside, but Marjoram rolled his eyes, “Where is she?”

“Where's who?” Marjoram heard Twilight mutter.

“Zecora!” Marjoram heard the high-pitched voice of Apple Bloom declare.

“Hey! I told you not to say that name!” Applejack reprimanded.

Marjoram had to stop himself from slamming his face into the side of Sugarcube Corner. Applejack, why are you promoting this?

“Out there!” Pinkie pointed around the corner, to the main square. Marjoram went to go around the corner, but Pinkie grabbed him and pulled him inside, “What are you doing?!”

“I'm going to go talk to her,” Marjoram stated dryly, “She might need more herbs.”

“More herbs?” Rarity exclaimed, “You mean you've?-”

“Given her some of mine? Because you ponies are too bigoted to accept somepony of a different race than you!? Yes. I did. Now, if you'll excuse me-”

Pinkie spun Marjoram around, looking deep into his eyes, and breathing cupcake scented breath into his face, “You've been cursed!”

“Curses don't exist!” Twilight rebuked, “They're fake!”

Marjoram pulled away from Pinkie, “Creators you ponies are worse than I thought. Now, I'm going to go talk to her, since you ponies seem too chicken to do so yourself.”

“I'm not a chicken!” Rainbow exclaimed, echoed by Applejack a moment later.

Marjoram stood up, and opened the door, “Then prove it,” he sneered, exiting the bakery, and making his way to where Zecora was supposed to be.

True enough, there she was, examining the stalls that had been abandoned when she'd entered the town limits. She spotted Marjoram, and lowered her hood, smiling brightly, “Marjoram, you bring my loneliness to an end! And, I see you've brought some friends?”

Marjoram turned around, to find Spike, Twilight, and her friends standing some distance away. Marjoram couldn't help but smirk, and noted that some ponies seemed to be peering out from doors, and windows.

“Yes, it seems I have. What do you need?”

“Some more herbs for my brew, though I was hoping I wouldn't have to bother you,” Zecora replied, “I need them for my work, but everyone here seems to be a jerk.”

“We're not jerks!” Rainbow protested, “You're just evil, aren't you?!”

Zecora's teal eyes flashed angrily, but Twilight turned to Rainbow, “You don't even know this mare! What has gotten into you girls?”

Rainbow looked taken aback, “Well, um-”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “I'll introduce you to some ponies, Zecora. We'll get this sorted out.”

Zecora nodded, and followed as Marjoram led the procession to the supermarket. He knocked on the door, and when the top half of the door creaked open a little, Marjoram began to explain.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram sat on the steps of Sugarcube Corner, drinking a glass of water, and watching as the streets of Ponyville began to come alive, albeit cautiously. A lot of whispering, a lot of curious stares and glares, but at least Ponyville was moving.

It had taken almost an hour of coaxing, bribing, explaining, and a bit of magic, but the ponies were now aware that Zecora simply wanted to help the ponies of Ponyville, not cook them into stew or use them in her 'evil' magic.

How in the hell those rumours even got started, I'll never know. Marjoram noted dryly, wincing as the pain in his chest flared up. He rubbed at his chest absent-mindedly, trying to dull the ache that was always present.

“You alright?” Twilight sat next to him, sipping on a lemonade, “We did a lot of walking.”

“I'll be alright,” Marjoram replied, watching as Zecora bought some apples from Applejack, “I think we did some good today.”

“Yes, thank you for that. I think you should write the letter for Celestia.”

“Why?” Marjoram returned, “I didn't learn anything about friendship.”

“You did. You learned its important to stand up for your friends, and that you need to sometimes have to tell your friends that they're wrong.”

Marjoram blinked, “Twilight, I hate to tell you, but I'm not really friends with your friends. We're more like...acquaintances.”

“Oh, come on! Don't be like that,” Twilight scolded, “You've got plenty of friends here.”

“You, Spike, Celestia, Zecora. Maybe Rarity,” Marjoram retorted, “And Zecora is there because nopony else saw past the fact that she looked different.”

“Than write about that then,” Twilight stated, “It's due by tonight.”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “Right. Like you can't write it.”

“You should do it, it's your lesson.”

“You're supposed to be learning about friendship.”

“And I did, but I think you learned the most from this. Besides, didn't the Princess tell you that you had to make friends here, too?”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “Fine. But only because I'm apparently under orders to do so.”

Twilight offered a bright smile, “It'll be fine. Celestia will be happy, you'll see.”

Marjoram muttered something into his glass that made Twilight smack him upside the head with her tail.

(LINE BREAK)

That night, when Celestia and Luna were going through their paperwork, the tell-tale trail of green flame belched a scroll near Celestia's head. Luna started from the paperwork, still not used to the phenomenon, but went back to work when she realized what it was.

Celestia untied the scroll, startled from her relaxed state when she recognized the penmanship, and began to read.

Princess Celestia,

I'm not asking Spike to write this, as he would likely edit it rather than send it in its original form.

Apparently, the ponies here are more bigoted than I thought. If you didn't know, a zebra by the name of Zecora is living just inside the Everfree forest. Whenever she came into town, the ponies would lock themselves in the nearest building, and wouldn't leave until Zecora left.

Of course, I discovered her last month and helped her. I then spent today introducing her to half the population of Ponyville today (I'm pretty sure your population estimates for this town are off. There seems to be fewer ponies here than I originally thought), and basically had to watch as the populace got used to the rhyming zebra.

Twilight is making me write this, if you couldn't tell. I'm not pleased. Apparently I've learned a few things about friendship today she didn't want to write about. They are as follows:

-standing up for your friends are important
-judging people by what they look like is stupid
-you sometimes have to tell 'friends' (read: acquaintances) that they are wrong (I'm a teacher, that's basically what I've been doing with Twilight and Spike for the last ten years)

So yeah. Tell Sea Shores and Princess Luna I say 'hi'.

I really don't like Ponyville. I really hate...damnit

Your favourite, I'm sorry for being shit at writing letters. Especially to you. Creators save me, I'm too tired for this.

Marjoram.

Celestia couldn't help but laugh, especially where Marjoram had tried to cross out what he had written, and failed in doing so. Pulling out her ink, Celestia began to write a reply.

Author's Note

Marjoram is me, I swear.

Anyway, I know this one is a bit smaller, but the next couple will likely be pretty big. Just so you know.

Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from everyone.

That last bit isn't supposed to be italicized. Dammit fimfiction. It might not be italicized later, but if not, I'm sorry. I tried to fix it.

Hospital Part 1

Over the next few weeks, the weather pegasi began to cool the temperatures, and Celestia began to change the duration of the days. Summer was ending, and fall was beginning. The leaves began to change colour, the overall temperature cooled, and creatures began to get ready to hibernate.

As the temperature began to dip, Marjoram's health began its slow decline before it tanked before winter started. It was a familiar thing, now, to Twilight and Spike, but it didn't stop the pain of watching it start, especially not when he'd just started to improve in serious ways.

Twilight woke up, happy in the knowledge of the coming Running of the Leaves. It was the first time she'd witnessed such an event, as changing seasons happened magically in Canterlot. Marjoram had coaxed her into entering weeks before, and now she was giddy with excitement.

“Spike! C'mon, we gotta eat breakfast before we go!” Twilight nuzzled Spike into wakefulness.

“Do we have to?” Spike asked, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

“Yes,” Twilight sighed, “You want to be up and ready for Sea Shores, don't you?”

Spike grumbled some more, but slowly got up and began to make his way downstairs, “You are a cruel pony, you know that right?”

Twilight shook her head, “I'll let you make the food.”

The bribe worked, though Spike still glared. He made his way downstairs while Twilight followed. When they entered the kitchen, they noticed Marjoram was already awake, cooking, a blanket draped over him.

“Couldn't sleep?” Twilight guessed, sitting at the counter. Spike followed her lead.

“You know me,” Marjoram rasped, using his magic to open the fridge and put a bottle of milk and several glasses on the counter. Twilight proceeded to serve everypony some.

“I do,” Twilight conceded, “Did Sea Shores tell you if she wanted to watch the run today?”

“She did, and she does. We'll be waiting at the finish line with a cold drink and a tank of oxygen.”

Twilight frowned, “You want to bring the oxygen tank? Already?”

Marjoram's shoulders slumped, “It's a long walk to the finish line.”

Twilight nodded sadly in agreement, “I won't stop you. If you feel like you need it, bring it.”

Marjoram smirked wryly, coughing once or twice. He finished making breakfast, and served everyone, even giving himself a small portion, “I'll wait for Sea Shores here, and we'll head to the finish line from here. You and Spike go on ahead.”

Twilight nodded, “Alright. Tell Sea Shores we'll catch up when we're done. You wanted to see if you could announce, right Spike?”

Spike nodded eagerly, eating fast, “Yes. I'm hoping nopony wanted to do it, so I can tell all the action as it happens, when it happens.”

Marjoram offered a small smile, “If you can't, then come find us at the finish line, alright? It shouldn't be too hard. I'm pretty sure Shores is doing some catering. Knowing her,” Marjoram took a sip of milk, and cleared his throat, “I'll be on a picnic blanket, wrapped in another blanket, surrounded by more food than I can eat in a year.”

Spike giggled, “Sounds good. I'll see you there!” with that, Spike shoved the last of his breakfast in his mouth, then waited for Twilight to finish. Twilight and Spike left, leaving Marjoram with the mess. Marjoram cleaned with his magic, still seated at the counter, idly waiting for Sea Shores.

Less than half an hour later, a knock at the front door prompted Marjoram to open it, revealing a smiling Sea Shores, “Sorry for the wait. I had to set up the table.”

Marjoram offered a wane smile, “It's alright. How was the flight over? Not bad?”

“It was pretty quiet,” Shores smiled, “It was nice to stretch my wings for a while. How are you?”

Marjoram sighed, “Not horrible, considering the weather. Twilight checked, the lesions in my lungs have healed, so I'm doing better than I was last year. I haven't coughed blood for a while.”

Shores offered a smile, “That's good! Anyway, we should go.”

Marjoram nodded, “I'm bringing the oxygen tank. Partially for me, potentially for a few jokes at Twilight's expense.”

Shores chuckled, “Don't worry about your blanket. I brought two for you.”

Marjoram smiled, “You know me so well,” using his magic, he picked up the oxygen tank and put on his cloak, draping his blanket over the back of the couch, “Shall we?”

“Of course. After you,” Shores opened the door, and shut it after the pair of them left, making sure the door was shut firmly.

Marjoram was about to say something, but a cyan pegasus barreled into him, knocking them both some distance away. Shores felt the breath whoosh from her lungs, and she ran over, briefly looking at the mare who was already picking herself off of the ground.

“Marjoram! Oh sweet Celestia, are you alright?!”

Marjoram was already trying to prop himself up, but was choking, coughing, and heaving for breath. He shook his head, his mouth moving, but no sound coming out. Clearly, the impact had knocked the breath out of him.

The pegasus stood up, then stretched her wing. She cried out in pain, her one wing held at a bit of an awkward angle from her body, “I'm so sorry! Is he alright? Who are you?”

“I'm Sea Shores,” Shores growled, “And you'd better be sorry. Who in the hay are you?!”

“I'm Rainbow Dash,” Rainbow replied, looking skeptical at the fierceness of the middle-aged mare.

Marjoram finally dragged in a huge breath, then immediately began to cough. Blood splattered the pavement, and he looked up at Shores, panic clearly written on his features, “not-good,” he choked, blood soon coating his chin.

“I'm calling an ambulance. You stay here,” Shores galloped into the library, then back out. A stream of muffled curses followed her to the Sofa and Quills shop.

Rainbow shuffled her feet, “Are you alright? I'm sorry about that, I couldn't get out of a nasty dive-”

Marjoram's golden eyes shone with a hatred Rainbow knew he could never have put into words. In between coughing fits, Marjoram tried to suck in great lungfuls of air, only really succeeding in making himself cough even harder. Rainbow peered closer, growing alarmed at the amount of blood Marjoram seemed intent on coughing up.

Shores came flying back, babbling a mile a minute, “It'll be alright. The sofa clerk called the emergency number. An ambulance will be here soon, for both of you. Don't give me that look, young lady, I see how you're holding that wing.”

Rainbow was struck dumb. She sat on the cobblestones and watched while Sea Shores checked the discarded oxygen tank, made sure it was still safe to use, then hooked Marjoram up to it, propping him up so he could breathe a little easier.

All the while, Marjoram continued to spit up blood, making it difficult to keep the mask on.

“You've done this before, haven't you?” Rainbow guessed, wincing as her wing shifted.

“Of course,” Shores replied coolly, “Though I've never done this after some pegasus decided to ram into him,” Marjoram let out a choked chuckle, earning a smack from Shores. Shores glared down at him, “Don't you dare talk. If you've opened a lesion, or worse started a hemorrhage, we don't need you making it worse.”

Marjoram nodded, and his ears perked up a little when he heard the sirens. Shores nodded, “Here we go. Get ready missy, if this is anything like the Canterlot Hospital, you're in for an earful.”

Rainbow didn't even have time to nod before the ambulance arrived, and Marjoram, Shores, and herself were swept up in the ambulance, answering questions, and the chaos of being taken to the hospital overtook them all.

(LINE BREAK)

Rainbow was separated from Marjoram and Shores soon after arriving at the hospital. Then she was bombarded with questions, had tests run, and the like. Then, she had her wing bandaged, she was admitted into the hospital for observation, and left to her own devices while they waited for the results to come in.

A few hours later, somepony was rolled in on a gurney, then transferred to the empty bed beside her. Watching, Rainbow felt her heart sink to the floor when she realized it was Marjoram. Oxygen tubes were attached to his nose, and Rainbow could see the faint auras of spells around his body. He was hooked up to an IV, and seemed barely conscious.

After Marjoram was transferred to the bed, and hooked up to an assortment of machinery, the doctors and nurses left. In the moments of silence, Rainbow realized that the horrible, wheezing, choking sounds she was hearing wasn't any of the equipment: it was Marjoram's shallow breathing.

Just as Rainbow came to this conclusion, the door slid open, and Shores bustled in. She glared once at Rainbow before grabbing a chair, and dragging it to Marjoram's bedside, where he could see her when he woke up.

Rainbow shifted uneasily, “Will he be okay?”

Shores looked over her shoulder, then sighed, “I don't know yet. When you rammed into him, he broke open one of the lesions, and it hemorrhaged pretty badly. They've collapsed the lung to 'rest' it, and are using a lot of magic to try to get it to heal.”

Rainbow blinked, “Wow.”

Shores nodded, “Yeah. He could be fine, well as fine as he gets-”

The door opened, and Twilight ran in, Spike clutching her mane in a death grip. Twilight's chest was heaving, and she looked scared, Rainbow noted. A medal hung around Twilight's neck, and Rainbow couldn't help but wonder if Twilight had won the Running of the Leaves race, or if she had just placed.

“I was gone for less than a few hours!” Twilight growled, her wide eyes betraying her anger, “How- Rainbow?!”

Rainbow waved tentatively, “I-um...this is my bad.”

“Huh?”

“I was trying out a new trick before the race. I was in a dive, but couldn't get out of it-”

“She barreled into him and opened a lesion. It hemorrhaged,” Shores finished, “Spike, why don't we go get a few drinks? For us and Rainbow. We can get something for Marjoram from the gift shop, okay?”

Spike nodded, slipping from Twilight's back, and scampering out of the room, Shores following closely. Once the door was shut, Twilight slumped.

“I know what you're going to say, Twi,” Rainbow started, before Twilight could say anything, “I know you've talked to me about the dangers of trying tricks above Ponyville, but I was honestly near the woods when I started. I didn't realize-”

“Rainbow,” Twilight interrupted, “I'm not mad. I'm just glad Shores was there. She made you come here too, didn't she?” After Rainbow nodded, Twilight sank into the chair Shores had vacated, “I'm glad this wasn't worse. If this had happened last fall,” Twilight shuddered, “He had so many hemorrhages that we honestly didn't think he'd survive the winter. After winter was wrapped up, he got better really quickly for a change.”

“I'm really sorry, Twi,” Rainbow muttered, smoothing out the sheets, “I tried to make sure I landed somewhere else, really-”

“It'll be fine. He got medical attention right away, and if everything else fails, I can call Princess Celestia,” Twilight looked at the array of medical equipment crowding the space near the head of Marjoram's bed, “He'll be alright. There's still some time for me to force-feed him some more before winter sets in.”

Rainbow had to bite her tongue to keep herself from asking: are you trying to comfort me, or you?

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram gradually woke, waking with each new unpleasant sensation. Collapsed lung, lots of bruising focused on the torso, general fall weather misery. Prying open an eye, Marjoram was greeted with the familiar scene of a hospital room, and with each passing moment, Marjoram became aware of the sounds and smells of a hospital.

Heart monitor, oxygen tank, lots of spells to ensure I don't stop breathing. Probably at least one spell making sure I don't tear the hemorrhage open again.

“Marjoram?” Marjoram shifted his head a little, and saw Spike and Twilight curled in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. Spike was looking up from the book he held in his claws. Marjoram tried to offer a smile, but it was likely a grimace.

Spike poked Twilight, “He's awake.”

Twilight set her book down, and plopped Spike back onto the chair once she was on her hooves, “I'm going to get Shores. She'll want to know you're up, coffee be damned.”

Language! Marjoram wanted to tease, but he figured he didn't have enough air. Spike waved awkwardly, gaining Marjoram's attention. Spike grabbed something from the floor, hiding it behind his back so Marjoram couldn't see, then climbed onto the bed.

“I-I got you something,” Spike mumbled, he held out a medium-sized stuffed toy. Squinting, trying to move his head so he could see better, Marjoram realized it was a brown and white dog, “I know you don't like stuff that reminds you of the hospital when you get out, but there were nothing else that I thought you might like, and-”

Marjoram managed to shush the dragon, with a mouth that felt like it was drier than the San Palomino Desert. Swallowing, Marjoram managed to whisper a cracked, breathy, “I like it.”

Spike beamed, and tucked the dog under the blankets, where Marjoram maneuvered it under his chin a little, to elevate his mouth and throat a little more. Spike climbed back onto the chair, just in time for Shores and Twilight to enter the room again.

Twilight was carrying two cups with her magic, one of which had a spoon sticking out of it. Shores smiled at Marjoram, “Hey, kiddo. How are you doing? Do you need some ice?”

Marjoram nodded, and Twilight began to spooned a few spoonfuls of ice into Marjoram's mouth, waiting for him to open his mouth again to offer more. Once Marjoram kept his mouth shut, Twilight set the cup down.

“How are you?” Twilight asked.

“Better...now. Ice...helped.”

“Good,” Shores said, smiling, “Now go back to sleep. Celestia knows you can use it.”

Marjoram let out a strangled chuckle. As much as he wanted to stay awake, the burning exhaustion and lead weights attacking his eyes ushered his segue into dreamland.

(LINE BREAK)

He was standing on the balcony of a twisted, towering, stone castle, watching his subjects as they toiled, trying to mine the precious gems that could be found in the ground. All were ragged, too thin, and in poor health. Most were filthy, being forced to work long hours in the cramped, desolate condition of the mines.

While he, himself, looked at his kingdom, stretching out before him. Mile after mile of once beautiful nature, now drenched in blood and the tears of its creatures. All so he, and his loved ones, could stay happy and healthy.

He wasn't the scared little unicorn anymore, nor was he the mourning unicorn who had watched his twin suffer, and die, needlessly. He wasn't that scared little child, crying for his dead parents.

The sight of all the ponies, twisted and dying, both made him feel elated and horrible. He remembered Celestia, the fear in her eyes when she realized he was going to kill her.

He sat, watching as his subjects wasted away for no reason, a smile playing on his lips.

“I am Marjoram, and I rule you all.”

Marjoram was jolted into wakefulness as somepony gently shook him awake. Twilight, eyes tired, but smiling softly, was there.

“Easy, easy,” Twilight whispered, “You're alright. It was just a dream. We're still here, we'll protect you I promise.”

Marjoram's dizzying mind couldn't form words, and his malfunctioning lungs couldn't let him say: you're the ponies who need protecting.

Twilight stroked his neck, “Go back to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.”

Confused, and already forgetting about the darkened, twisted spires of the haunted castle, and the vacancy in the eyes of ponies, Marjoram was soon asleep once more.

“Hey, Marjoram!' Carnation bounced into the room, then stopped mid-stride, seeing her brother still in bed, “Oh no, not again.”

Carnation approached slowly, unsure of what to expect. She found her twin, laying under the blankets, sweating buckets, shaking and shivering from chills. Using a forelimb, Carnation felt Marjoram's forehead. He was burning up.

“I'll get help-”

“no,” Marjoram whispered, reaching out blindly for his twin, “please. Don't leave.”

Carnation stopped, then went to her brother's bedside, “You need medicine-”

“You-you make me feel better,” Marjoram's golden eyes were glassy and shining. Not a good sign.

Carnation sighed, “Do you want me to tell you a story? Just a quick one, then I'm going to need to get you help.”

“please,” Marjoram whispered. Using a hoof, he gestured towards his head, “so loud. Need to concentrate. Need a distraction.”

Carnation frowned, but nodded, “Alright, but one story is it, then I'm getting the doctor.”

Marjoram nodded, but then relaxed more on the bed, breathing hard.

Carnation took a deep breath, remembering back to their childhood. She remembered the stories their mother told them, “Once upon a time, there was a family of rabbits. They were a loving and happy family, even when they didn't see eye to eye.”

Marjoram shut his eyes relaxing further. Carnation continued, stumbling over the half-remembered words, “One day, the twin siblings left their home in search of adventure, dragging their elder sibling with them. While exploring the woods, they came across a wolf, who was clearly very hungry-”

“And thin,” Marjoram added, “he's thin. Hasn't eaten in a while.”

Carnation nodded in agreement, “Yes, and he's thin. The wolf is very hungry, so much so that he tries to get the smallest of the twins, trying to eat him up for lunch. Of course, the eldest sibling knows he can't let his younger brother be eaten, and so, he charges the wolf, and starts beating on the wolf's paw with his strong legs.”

Marjoram giggled unsteadily, eyes shut, clearly imagining the sight. Carnation continued hurriedly, “The other twin can't stand by either, so she jumps into the fray, throwing herself at the jaws of the wolf, and knocking her brother free. The eldest yells for them to run, so they do. Soon after, he follows, but so does the wolf. Eventually, the wolf catches up, tracking them with his nose. There, the eldest throws himself at the wolf's paws, and begs that he be eaten. The twins lay in the bush, frozen with fear, not sure what to do.”

The wolf contemplates this proposition, and finds it acceptable. Just as he's getting ready to eat the eldest, the twins rush him, smacking at him and biting. Eventually, the wolf retreats, yelling that he can get easier pray elsewhere.”

“They fought against death that day,” Marjoram wheezed, “and they won, with teamwork.”

Carnation, thinking back to how Kafir had left only weeks before, blinked back tears, “Yeah. Now, I'm getting you that doctor.”

Author's Note

Yes the last bit is supposed to be confusing. Don't worry.

I really enjoyed writing this. Please let me know what you think!

Hospital Part 2

In the next few days, Rainbow watched as Marjoram's body refused to improve. She found herself unable to do anything while he declined. His other lung, the one that had been fine after the initial crash, had been unable to support the amount of oxygen Marjoram's body needed by itself. Because of this, Marjoram's lung had opened several lesions because of the tension and stress it had been under.

Everypony had been thankful when none of them severely hemorrhaged, but it was still a serious setback. Marjoram was left attached to a mixture of machine and magic that filtered his blood out of his body and oxygenated it, before pumping it back in. Marjoram was restless, exhausted, and had quickly grown feverish as the illness he suffered from reared its ugly head, taking advantage of his weakness.

While Rainbow Dash was beginning to recover, and tried to be more active around the hospital room, she had to watch as Marjoram declined. All because she hadn't been careful, like she'd promised Twilight she would be. It was easy to see that Twilight had told Rainbow the truth: that she forgave Rainbow.

However, it was clear Shores still wasn't sure, and from the death glares that Marjoram sent Rainbow's way, it was clear he hadn't forgiven her either.

Almost a week after the initial crash, Shores had to return to Canterlot. She'd extracted promises from both Twilight and Spike that they would care for Marjoram, and that they would let her know if things changed.

While the nurses had moved Marjoram to another room for a sponge bath, Shores had leveled Rainbow with a glare, “If I hear you crash into anypony else, I will report you for dangerous flying. I know it was an accident, but you shouldn't be crashing in populated areas anyway.”

“I know,” Rainbow refused to meet Shores' steely gaze, suddenly finding her blanket to be interesting, “I won't, I promise.”

Shores nodded, “Good. You're young, and you were very clearly out of control. Those are the only things that saved you this time. Be thankful Marjoram refused to set charges.”

“H-he did?” Rainbow asked, finally looking up, “but he hates me!”

A soft smile played on the edges of Shores' lips, “He finds hating ponies to be a waste of time and effort, he's simply very indifferent,” the smile soured, “though I wouldn't be surprised if he's more...aggravated with you around. He finds it despicable when ponies endanger others.”

Rainbow nodded, unsure of what to say. With that, Shores turned and left the room.

Later that afternoon, once everything had calmed down and Marjoram was returned, Twilight came for a visit. Marjoram was fast asleep, and Rainbow was doodling with a pen and some scrap paper a nurse had lent her. Twilight carried a small basket, and produced a jar filled with a rainbow coloured substance. Twilight gave the jar to Rainbow, who was happy to see the familiar sight.

“Is it Zap Apple season already? Rainbow asked, examining the jar closely, “I thought that wasn't for another week or two.”

Twilight shrugged, giving Rainbow a few slices of bread to go with her jam, “I've no idea, but I thought Marjoram might want to try some,” Twilight's purple eyes shone with concern, as it was clear that Marjoram wasn't getting better.

Shaking herself, Twilight left Rainbow with a plastic knife, and tried to ignore the excited sounds of Rainbow eating something more than hospital food. Sitting down in the chair, Twilight gently shook Marjoram awake, being careful not to disturb any of the medical equipment.

Marjoram reluctantly stirred, then cracked one eye open. Seeing Twilight, Marjoram made an effort to sit up a little, aided by Twilight's magic, the mechanical bed, and a lot of pillows.

“Wha’s up?” Marjoram asked blearily, his golden eyes dull and squinting. Though he had told no one, he had become aware of the fact his senses seemed to be dulling. It was harder to see, his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton, and any food he was given was bland and unappetizing. Marjoram didn't like to think about what that meant.

“The Apples just got the last of their harvest in,” Twilight said brightly, “It's a special type of magical apple they call 'Zap' Apples. I thought you might like some.”

Marjoram smiled softly, “Twilight-”

“You're going to try some,” Twilight rephrased, “Please? You might like it.”

Marjoram had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, “Fine.”

Twilight smiled, taking the jar and another slice of bread from the basket. Slathering on some jam, She levitated it in front of Marjoram's mouth, knowing that he couldn't do it himself.

Marjoram had to push down the sudden spike of bitter anger, and humiliation, that rose in the back of his throat. She means well. Taking a small bite, Marjoram almost choked on it. For the first time in a week, there was flavour.

Twilight smiled, “You like it, don't you? I knew you would!”

Marjoram stared for a moment, before slowly eating the rest, unsure of whether it was all just some type of cruel trick. It didn't seem to be.

Twilight watched in awe as Marjoram ate another slice of bread, then drifted into a peaceful sleep. She screwed the lid of the jar back on, then put the bread away, placing the basket on the little table on wheels, “He hasn't eaten that much since before he was admitted.”

Rainbow nodded, pausing mid-bite, “You're leaving the bread here, right?”

Twilight giggled, “Of course. I'll buy you a couple of jars, Rainbow, so you don't miss out,” Twilight cast a glance to Marjoram, “I'm going to go buy a lot more. If he can eat it when he's this sick, he'll eat it almost anytime.”

Rainbow looked at Marjoram, “That's good then, right?”

Twilight smiled, “Yes. It is. Maybe he'll start to get better if I can get some more calories into him. Celestia knows he's barely eaten anything since being admitted. Anyway, I have to get back to the library. I'll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Rainbow!”

Rainbow waved Twilight out of the room, then shut the jar of jam, setting it aside for later. She sighed, and began to doodle again, wondering how long it would be before she got to fly again.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram woke several hours later, and was assaulted with how clear and crisp everything seemed. Rainbow seemed asleep, or she was at least feigning it. Marjoram shut his eyes, relaxing into his pillows. His mind felt clear, and while his chest still burned, he felt better than he'd had in a while.

Marjoram sighed, looking down at his body, and the array of tubes and machines he was attached to. If I still feel this good later, I'll get them to check my lungs. This might be a fluke...might be feeling good just before the end. I don't want to give anypony hope…

Marjoram felt a stab of hunger, his stomach rumbling. He blinked, staring down at his blanket covered body, wondering what in the hay-

Marjoram caught sight of the jar on the table. He could vaguely remember Twilight's visit, but remembered the taste of the jam with sharp clarity. His stomach growled again, and he reached for it with his magic. His horn sputtered, but obediently picked up the jar, and brought it over. Marjoram stared at the jar in his hooves, then craned his eyes to where he could see the tip of his horn. I didn't think I'd ever use my magic again… Marjoram shook his head, and opened the jar. Sniffing it revealed it to be what it looked like: jam. Highly flavourful, but still just jam.

Using his magic, Marjoram summoned the basket, and found a plastic spoon. Using the spoon, Marjoram took a bite, and was once again overwhelmed with the taste. Seemingly on autopilot, he soon devoured nearly half the jar.

Marjoram stared at the jar, then put the lid on and levitated it, and the basket, back onto the table. Marjoram sighed, then looked at the clock. Four AM, huh? Must be feeling better if I'm not going back to sleep anytime soon. Marjoram sat back, feeling content to just relax.

(LINE BREAK)

When Twilight entered the hospital room that afternoon, she expected Marjoram to be as he'd been the day before: barely mobile, fighting for every shallow breath. What she saw, however, was almost the opposite.

Marjoram was sitting up under his own power, using his magic to draw on a piece of paper. He was unhooked from the machine that had been oxygenating his blood, and even though he still looked sick, he was looking better then he'd had.

Marjoram's eyes were brighter, and he seemed to notice Twilight enter before Rainbow did.

“You're awake!” Twilight exclaimed, “How?” She asked, gesturing at Marjoram as a whole.

Marjoram shrugged, “Minor miracle? Doctors can't figure it out. They checked, the hemorrhaged lesion is healed, well about as healed as it will get. They re-inflated the lung just before lunch.”

Twilight sat down on the chair, taking in the sight before her in amazement, “I-I thought for a while there, that-that you weren't-”

Marjoram shook his head, “No point in thinking about that now. I'm alright for now, Twilight. As long as I don't get rammed into again, I will most likely be as alright as I get.”

Twilight nodded, “Are they discharging you soon? Have the doctors talked to you about that yet?”

Marjoram shook his head, “Nurse...Redheart? I think that's her name, mentioned that the doctor's going to come by tonight, and examine me. Then, go from there. I don't think I'll be here for another week. A few days at maximum.”

Twilight smiled, “That's good. You can come back home, and rest. Nopony has called for your services, so you don't have to work.”

Marjoram shrugged, “Most ponies know I can't work in the winter. I probably won't get any calls until after winter.”

Twilight nodded, “That's true.” The room soon lapsed into silence.

(LINE BREAK)

A few days later, after Marjoram was discharged and sent home, Twilight was unsure of what to say to Marjoram. While he was seemingly getting better physically, he was acting oddly. The most odd thing that Twilight could see was the fact Marjoram was eating more jam than what was likely healthy.

On one hoof, Twilight was happy Marjoram was eating at all, but on the other hoof, Twilight wasn't sure if eating more jam than anything else was healthy; even if it was magical jam.

The second thing Twilight thought was worrying, was the fact that Marjoram was taking more of the potion that strengthened his 'white' magic. Just over double the dose Twilight had initially calculated. Twilight couldn't tell Marjoram what was going on; she'd missed her opportunity weeks ago.

Twilight was too terrified to tell Marjoram something evil was basically eating away at his magic, but at the same time, Twilight didn't know what would happen to him in the long term. Would his magic rebound? Would he die? Twilight had no idea, and even though she'd done some research, that act was unlikely to change.

Marjoram was in the kitchen with Spike, and Twilight had been reshelving the books, when somepony knocked on the door. Since the boys were busy, and Twilight was closest, Twilight opened the door.

There was Rainbow, her wing still tightly bandaged, looking sheepish, “I-I can't get back home, not with my wing like this.”

Twilight sighed, then moved aside, “Come in.”

“I'm so sorry, Twilight,” Rainbow began, “I tried to leave you and Marjoram alone, but Fluttershy had Harry the bear over, Applejack had some of her family members over, Rarity has Sweetie Belle, and Pinkie is out of town until next week!” Rainbow began to pace restlessly, “And I don't trust anypony else to be able to keep up with my awesomeness until I can find a way to get back to my house!”

“It's okay, Rainbow,” Twilight soothed, “I understand, and I'm sure Marjoram will too. Do you need a drink?”

Rainbow relaxed, “Will he really be, though? I don't think you saw some of the death glares he was shooting my way.”

Twilight leveled Rainbow with a deep stare, “He'll be alright. He's a grown stallion. He'll understand.”

Rainbow nodded cautiously, and followed Twilight inside, “I hope so.”

Author's Note

I'm still not sure what I think about this one. I rewrote it two times, and this is the best it got, I guess.

Please let me know what you think, I like getting feedback. Thanks for reading!

Preparations

Marjoram woke up to silence for the first time in several days. Breathing a sigh of relief, Marjoram sank back into his pillows. Rainbow must have left then. Fluttershy had sent one of her 'feathered friends' to the library late the night before, informing Twilight and Rainbow that Harry the Bear would be leaving in the morning.

This meant that Rainbow could leave after several, excruciatingly tense days. As much as Marjoram enjoyed seeing Twilight happy, and she was happy having several sleepovers with one of her friends, Rainbow's attitude made Marjoram grind his teeth.

Rainbow complained constantly about her damaged wing, though she tried to tone it down around Marjoram. She didn't seem to care that in a few short weeks she'd be good as new: flying about Ponyville and Cloudsdale like the accident had never happened.

Marjoram didn't have that luxury. Any day now, the temperature would plummet and Autumn Wrap Up would begin in earnest. Marjoram's lungs wouldn't deal well with the massive differences in temperatures. Too hot, and Marjoram's lungs and throat dried out. Too cold, and his lungs would freeze up in shock.

Most people weren't conscious of the varying, different temperatures that ruled over winter. Houses were often too hot, and the outside was almost always too cold. It was going to be a delicate balance to find the right temperature for the library: to help Marjoram breathe, as well as keep the books safe.

In all, Marjoram figured this winter was going to be rather difficult.

A knock jolted Marjoram from his warm, drowsy thoughts. Marjoram freed himself of the blankets, and began the morning trek up the single flight of stairs that was growing more and more difficult with each day.

Marjoram steeled himself for the morning ahead, trying to imagine what Twilight wanted. Finally making it up the stairs, and trying to hide the fact he was wheezing already, Marjoram entered the kitchen.

Spike was chowing down on some sort of sandwich, while Twilight was busy putting a tray of something in the oven.

“Hey!” Spike greeted, covering his mouth so no one could see the half-chewed bits of food in his mouth.

Marjoram nodded in acknowledgment, sitting beside the dragon.

Twilight shut the oven door, and smiled, “How are you feeling? Better?”

Marjoram shrugged, “The same. What's the weather supposed to be like?”

“Supposed to drop tonight,” Spike butted in, “I talked to some of the weather pegasi this morning.”

Marjoram winced, “Lovely.”

Twilight offered a sympathetic smile, “So far you're doing pretty well health wise. Hopefully you won't get too bad.”

Marjoram caught the small flash of fear and uncertainty, even if Spike didn't. Twilight wasn't as good a liar as she thought, but Marjoram couldn't figure out what could be making her lie to him-

“Would you like toast or scones with your jam?” Twilight interrupted Marjoram's thoughts, “If you want to eat now, I can make toast. Spike found a scone recipe he wanted to try-”

“So we made it!” Spike said brightly, “They smell good already.”

Marjoram offered a small smile, “I'll have some scones, then.”

Twilight smiled brightly, though Marjoram couldn't help but notice the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Marjoram shook himself mentally. Twilight wouldn't hide anything from you if it was important. Don't let your feelings toward her friends cloud your perception of her.

Marjoram sat quietly, and waited for his breakfast to finish baking in the oven.

(LINE BREAK)

That afternoon, when Twilight and Spike had gone off to get groceries for the week, a knock interrupted Marjoram's reading. He opened the door to find Applejack standing outside, holding a basket in between her teeth.

Marjoram stepped aside to let her in, shutting the door firmly behind her. Applejack set the basket on the nearest desk.

“Thank ya kindly, sugarcube,” Applejack smiled. “This is the last of the Zap Apple jam Twilight ordered. I was already on my into town, so I thought I'd drop it off myself.”

“Thanks,” Marjoram offered a wane smile of his own.

Applejack shifted her weight from hoof to hoof for a moment, then smiled again, “I'm glad you like the jam. Did Twilight tell you the apples are magical?”

Marjoram thought, “I think she mentioned while I was in the hospital, but I don't think she mentioned anything else. Do you know what the magic does?”

Applejack shrugged, “Nothin' as far as anypony knows.”

“I could run some tests, if you have any apples left-”

“Sorry sugarcube, the raw apples usually just get eaten, baked, or turned into jam pretty quickly after harvest time. If you're up to it, though, you can do some fancy-shmancy tests on the trees if you'd like.”

Marjoram nodded, “Thank you. Would you mind if I come over tomorrow and get some samples? It's probably best if I run my tests here, than out in your orchard.”

Applejack's smile widened, “Of course you can! If you'd like, you can have lunch or something with us-”

Marjoram shook his head, “No thank you, Applejack. I appreciate the offer-”

“If Granny saw you, she'll force you to come in and eat anyway,” Applejack's green eyes shone mischievously, “I'll see you tomorrow. Enjoy the jam!” With that, the Earth Pony left Marjoram alone, with the basket of jam jars.

Marjoram looked at Applejack's basket, and smiled a twisted smile, “She's smarter than I thought. I need to give her that basket back.”

Marjoram put the jam jars away, then put the basket on the little table beside the front door. By the time he'd gotten settled and began to read again, Twilight and Spike came back. Marjoram noted their presence with a nod, but not much else. He was too absorbed in his book-

“Marjoram, could you lend a hoof!?”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, and joined the pair in the kitchen. Using his magic, he helped Twilight and Spike put away the groceries.

Twilight smiled brightly at him, “I noticed the extra jam jars. Was Applejack here earlier?”

“You just missed her,” Marjoram replied. He opened his mouth to tell Twilight about the testing he was going to run, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead he said, “She left her basket here. I'm pretty sure it's a clever plot to get me over to Sweet Apple Acres for lunch tomorrow.”

Twilight chuckled, “Probably. Will you be alright on your own? Spike and I can come with if you'd like.”

“I'll be alright, I think,” Marjoram replied easily, “It'll be my last outing before things get super cold. I'll take it easy, Twilight, I promise.”

Twilight looked worried, but nodded reluctantly, “All right. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Marjoram smiled, “I'll be fine, Twilight. Spike, are you ready for your science lesson?”

Spike groaned, but obediently padded into the main room of the library, Marjoram following the young dragon.

(LINE BREAK)

The next day, Marjoram set off to Sweet Apple Acres with the basket and his saddlebags full of the equipment he would need. He had his cloak on, as well as a scarf. Marjoram made his way leisurely over to the farm, stopping to rest several times along the way.

Once he got to the farm, it was nearly impossible to ignore the fact that fall was drawing to a close: there wasn't a single green leaf among the apple trees. As Marjoram plodded down the last of the dirt road to the farm, he saw Apple Bloom with two other fillies. Apple Bloom waved a hoof in the air, “Hi, Marjoram! What are you doin' here?”

“Returning the basket,” Marjoram gestured to the floating basket near his head.

“I'll take it!” Apple Bloom beamed, “We were heading' over to the barn anyway. Thanks!”

“Do you know where Applejack is? I need to talk to her-”

“Oh sure,” Using a hoof, Apple Bloom pointed to a bunch of trees that didn't look anything like apple trees, “She's planting a few more Zap Apple trees. She'll be over there.”

“Thanks,” Marjoram walked to the rows of leafless trees, and wondered about the odd appearance of all the trees. Certainly magic, they don't feel right.

Marjoram found Applejack digging holes near the far end of the orchard. She saw him coming, and galloped over to him, smiling, “Ah! There you are, I was beginning to wonder if you were gonna show!”

Marjoram resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “This is fascinating, as I haven’t heard of anything like your zap apples before. This could be very profitable for you and the magical community.”

“D’you think so?”

“Ponies have been trying to find natural occurring magical food for centuries,” Marjoram explained, “We think it could revolutionize how food is grown, and we want to see what effects it could have on ponies.”

Applejack nodded, “That could be neat. Now, what do ya need for the test?”

“An apple would have been preferable. If you have any seeds, that would be the next best thing. If all else I can probably use a bit of branch or bark.”

Applejack smiled, “Good news is that I’ve got some seeds leftover. Big Mac got me a few too many. How many do you need?”

“Two should be enough,” Marjoram offered a slight smile, “Thank you for this.”

“It’s not a problem!” Applejack smiled, “If you want to go to the house, I’ll bring you the seeds when I’m done.”

Marjoram nodded, and went to the farmhouse. Unsure of what to do, he knocked only to have the door open after only a few seconds.

Granny Smith offered a big smile, “Come on in dear, Applejack told me you were coming.”

“Thank you for having me,” Marjoram replied slowly, unsure of what else to say.

Granny’s smile widened, “Anytime. Now, you just sit down at the table.Lunch will be done soon.”

Marjoram followed Granny into the kitchen, and sat down at the table. He watched as Granny wandered to the stove, stirring soup, and checking something that was in the oven. Marjoram looked around the comfortable, clearly lived in kitchen, wondering how old some of the pots and pans were.

A few minutes later, Apple Bloom and her friends trotted in, giggling. They washed up in the kitchen sink, and sat down themselves.

Granny took the pot off of the hot burner, and turned to Apple Bloom, “Would you mind getting your brother, squirt? Maybe yell at Applejack?”

“No need Apple Bloom,” The door opened, and Applejack and Big Mac walked in from outside, “We’re here. You go ahead and serve the guests while Big Mac and I wash our hooves.”

“Alright, deary,” Granny smiled. She brought the pot to the table, and began to fill the bowls full of it. When she was done serving soup, she took two loaves of bread out of the oven, and sliced them, bringing them over before sitting herself down.

Marjoram, while not very hungry, did his best to eat a polite amount. While the food was good, and Marjoram felt slightly grateful that they’d thought of him, he was uncomfortable with the situation. He wasn’t sure if the offer of food was out of kindness, pity, or both. No matter the situation, Marjoram wasn’t sure what to think of the whole thing.

Soon enough, Marjoram found himself finished. Granny forced him to take a few containers of soup, and several slices of bread home. Applejack gave him two seeds, and with a round of goodbyes, he made his way back to the library.

A few weeks, and I’ll see what’s in this. Marjoram thought, after he’d gotten back to the library and downstairs into his room. He set the flask in a dark drawer, and stared at the half-empty flask of the potion Twilight had made him.

Marjoram remembered trying to ask Twilight what was in it, but so far she’d dodged his questions. Feeling slightly guilty, Marjoram prepared another magic-analyzing solution, and dumped the potion inside. If Twilight won’t tell me, I’ll figure it out myself. Sorry Twilight, I trust you, but I need to know what I’m basically drinking by the litre.

Author's Note

Good news, the school computers don't lock me out of any sites or anything. I've got the next chapter or two planned out, so I hopefully will be able to update again soon.
Hope to update soon, please don't forget to let me know what you think!

Birthday

Fall ended, and winter began. The temperature dropped harshly, and even though the pegasi warned the ponies of Ponyville, it was still a harsh change in climate. In response to the cold and damp, Marjoram’s health worsened.

Marjoram spent most days in the library, reading or teaching Spike and Twilight. On the days he was too ill to get out of bed, Twilight and Spike did their best to help; reading, talking, and making sure Marjoram drank his tea and ate at least a little.

One morning, Marjoram woke up to a loud knocking on his door. Through bleary eyes, Marjoram looked at the clock, and found it was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning. Heaving himself out of bed, Marjoram trudged his way up the stairs, wondering what Twilight could want with him if she’d known he’d been sleeping.

Making it up the stairs was a bit of a struggle, but Marjoram managed it without falling or feeling like he was going to faint from lack of oxygen. In all, a very good way to start the day. Marjoram entered the suspiciously dark kitchen, and almost jumped out of his fur when the lights turned on and eight ponies yelled ‘surprise’ at him.

Marjoram stared at the gathered ponies, noting with surprise that Celestia and Shores was there. His still half-asleep brain still trying to process, Marjoram turned a helpless glare to Twilight, who giggled nervously.

“It’s your thirtieth birthday! I couldn’t just let you sleep through it.”

Marjoram blinked, he’d completely forgotten about his birthday. Shores clucked her tongue, “You forgot again, didn’t you? C’mon, sit down. We’re eating breakfast before we do anything else. How much coffee do you want?”

Marjoram obediently sat down beside the cook, trying to shake the feeling of sleep from his mind, “A bucketful if you’ve got one big enough.”

Shores laughed, “I don’t have a bucket, but this large mug should help. Now, eat up. We’ve got a lot of stuff to do today.”

“Like what?” Marjoram replied, taking a sip of the strong, bitter liquid.

“It’s a surprise, silly!” Pinkie stated brightly, “C’mon, everypony, eat up! We’ve got a lot to do today!”

Marjoram blinked slowly, staring at Pinkie with a rising, horrible realization: she was one of those ponies. One of the ‘lucky’ few who could say more than a few grumbled words first thing in the morning.

Without another word, Marjoram practically chugged the rest of the first cup of coffee, and refilled it, before moving on to the actual food.

“Is Luna looking after Canterlot while you’re gone?” Twilight asked Celestia, around a careful bite of pancake.

Celestia nodded, sipping daintily from her teacup, “I thought it was time that she get back into the swing of things. She’ll be fine.”

“How has your dress making been going, Rarity?” Twilight asked after a beat of silence.

“It’s been going great, my dear,” Rarity replied with a smile, “I had a few orders from Canterlot, and one from Manehatten. All very exciting if you ask me.”

“That’s great!” Twilight beamed. The rest of Twilight’s friends nodded appreciatively, though Rainbow seemed just ready to snort or roll her eyes.

“What do you do..Fluttershy, was it?” Shores asked, pouring syrup onto her pancakes.

“I-I uh...I look after animals,” Fluttershy whispered, staring down at her food.

“That must be exciting. One of my chefs volunteers at a shelter. Very good of you to do that. What about the rest of you? I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I hardly know any of you.”

“Well, my family and I run Sweet Apple Acres, just outside of town,” Applejack said amicably.

“I help the Cakes run Sugarcube Corner!” Pinkie said, beaming wildly, “And I plan parties around town!”

“I own my own boutique not too far away from here,” Rarity said elegantly, “I design the best and latest fashion!”

“I’m a weather pegasi,” Rainbow said boldly, “but it’s always been my dream to join the Wonderbolts!”

Shores nodded, “You have a friend group with lots of skills, Twilight.”

Twilight smiled in response. Spike looked at Shores, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “These are really good.”

Shores smiled, “I’m glad you like them, Spike. I’ll make them for you next time you come back to Canterlot, if you’d like.”

“That would be awesome, thanks!”

Marjoram found himself picking at the pancake on his plate, drinking mostly coffee. Soon enough, Pinkie had ploughed her way through most of the food, and everyone waited for her to finish up the last of it.

“What are we doing?” Marjoram asked, unsure on if he even wanted to know.

Celestia smiled, “We’re going to Canterlot.”

“At the end of the day, we are,” Shores butted in, “We’ve got some stuff around here that we’re first.”

“Is everypony done eating?” Twilight asked.

A chorus of ‘yes’ sounded throughout the room, and Twilight looked to Marjoram with a smile on her face, “Presents first. By then everything else should be ready.”

Marjoram nodded, downing the last of his coffee and following the others into the main room of the library. Twilight ushered him onto his favourite couch, where he could see seven gifts piled to one side of the couch.

“You’ve got almost an hour to open them, so don’t dawdle!” Twilight smiled.

Marjoram smirked, pulling the first of the gifts over to himself, “Got everything scheduled to the minute, don’t you?”

“Of course! How else can your birthday go off without a hitch?”

Marjoram shook his head, looking down at the gift he’d grabbed, and with a sinking feeling in his chest, realized it was from Rainbow. Swallowing dryly, Marjoram opened it and found a book. The title read: Before Equestria: What Was Life Really Like? Marjoram couldn’t help but be impressed, he hadn’t read this book before.

“Thank you.”

Rainbow shrugged, “Twilight thought you might like it.”

“I do.”

Twilight took a glance at the clock in the corner, making Marjoram roll his eyes again, “It’s been barely five minutes!”

Twilight leveled him with a deadpan glare, and Marjoram moved on. The next present he got was the neatest looking present he’d seen in a long time. It wasn’t wrapped, but the box was tasteful and the ribbon was large and poufy. Before Marjoram even looked at the tag, he knew it was from Rarity.

Marjoram opened it with care, and found a thick, long black scarf nestled inside. Raising a questioning eyebrow, Rarity smiled, “It goes with your cloak and you coat colour. Your other scarf is a little too short for you.”

“Thank you,” Marjoram looked at the soft looking fabric nestled in tissue paper, and smiled a little, “It’s very pretty.”

Rarity beamed, and Marjoram set the box down and picked the next present. It was clumsily wrapped, and Marjoram could easily tell it was Spike’s after just glancing at the writing. Marjoram opened it carefully, remembering the caution in which Spike had handled it when he’d bought it, and was astounded to see a snowglobe of Canterlot.

Lifting it from the box, Marjoram saw the city he considered home, and smiled. Spike smiled, “So you always have a piece of home.”

“Thank you, Spike.” Marjoram offered a smile, and Spike smiled right back.

Marjoram picked the gifts at random. Fluttershy got him a recently published guide about the different magical creatures that could be found in the Everfree Forest, Pinkie Pie got him a colourful new tea set, and Shores got him three new journals.

Twilight’s present was a small box, and inside was an expensive quill that Marjoram had been ogling for weeks. Silver tipped, and made from a phoenix feather, he could write powerful spells with it, without needing to worry about any backlash or anything.

Celestia had given him two of Starswirl the Bearded’s journals. Flipping through them carefully, Marjoram was delighted to notice he’d only heard mentions of the work before.

Applejack, who hadn’t said much, sidled out of the room, then came back, pushing a trolley with an elegantly made bookshelf on it. She smiled at the dumbstruck look on his face.

“Twilight told me you didn’t have enough shelving in your room for all of your books. I thought I’d help out. This here is made from Sweet Apple Acres apple tree wood.”

“Thank you,” Marjoram said, “thank you very much.”

“I’ll get it downstairs for you!” Applejack beamed.

“We’re right on time, too!” Twilight said brightly.

Everypony got their winter clothing on, Marjoram using the new scarf rather than the old one, and went outside. Marjoram’s lungs threatened to seize up in the cold, and he started to shiver the second he left the library.

Thankfully Twilight knew that would happen, and led them to Sugarcube Corner without a second’s hesitation. Inside was warm, almost too warm, but it was infinitely better than outside. The Cakes were waiting beside a medium-sized cake, with big smiles on their faces.

“Hello, dearies!” Mrs. Cake greeted, “come on in and sit down. Would you like us to sing?” The question was directed at Marjoram.

“I’m thirty, not ten. I’d appreciate it if no one sang,” Marjoram replied, climbing into a seat that was marked as his. Pinkie groaned, a brief frown crossing her features before she brightened again.

The cake was sliced and passed around, as well as tea and coffee. Marjoram took an experimental bite, and had to restrain himself from diving face-first into the confection. The cake was clearly Shore’s signature recipe mixed with Zap Apple jam.

Shores watched, a smile on her face as Marjoram ate some more, “The Cakes had to help me incorporate the jam. I know it’s not your usual cake, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind; this is lovely,” A mumour of agreement went around the table.

Shores’ smile grew, “Good. Now, eat up. It looks like Pinkie will eat it all before anypony else gets a chance at seconds.”

“Is everypony else packed?” Twilight asked suddenly, “Because if you’re not fully, Marjoram still has to pack, so you have a chance to go over your checklists again.”

Marjoram gave Twilight a questioning look. Twilight giggled sheepishly, “The others are going to come with us to Canterlot for a week. They’ve all wanted to see what Canterlot looks like at this time of year. And, we get to exchange presents a little early with them, while still celebrating our traditions.”

Marjoram nodded, and finished his slice of cake while wondering if it was appropriate or not to buy things for Twilight’s friends.

Almost five hours later, the cake had been eaten, bags were packed, and everypony was loaded into a closed royal carriage pulled by guards. Marjoram had bundled up in layers, sitting between Celestia and Shores, half-asleep before they’d even lifted off. He’d been given the anti-nausea potions, and had slept the whole way to Canterlot.
The trip was shorter than it was by train, but it was still rather long in comparison to the daily routines of the ponies in the carriage. While Marjoram was left exhausted by the end of the trip, the others had energy to spare. Marjoram had declined the invitation to ‘see the sights’, instead deciding to unpack and rest after the day of excitement and travel.

Marjoram carefully unpacked the two experiments, noting with satisfaction that they would be completed within a day or two. With that knowledge safely in hoof, Marjoram went to sleep, and slept the whole night through.

Marjoram awoke the next morning, to see both vials glowing, with pieces of enchanted paper with the results on them. As Marjoram read the results, his heart sunk to his hooves. Twilight, what have you been doing?

Author's Note

The bit I have planned out turned out to be a little too long for one chapter, so I've decided to split it in two. The next update should be pretty soon. I'd like to apologize if this chapter seems rushed, it's just I'm super excited to get to the next part of the story.

Aftermath

Twilight stared down at the ground, wondering with growing unease about when Princess Celestia was going to start lecturing. So far, she’d been eerily silent, staring down at Twilight with sad eyes. Twilight shifted under the scrutiny, her heart aching with concern and embarrassment. Twilight had told Celestia why she hadn’t done anything; that she’d thought she’d waited too long, and as time had passed, the problem had only compounded.

Celestia had been silent then as well, taking in the information and Twilight’s apologies, clearly thinking about what had happened.Twilight wasn’t sure she’d be able to take the scrutiny much longer, feeling her aching heart beat faster in response to the stress.

“I’m so sorry, Princess,” Twilight murmured for what felt like the hundredth time. Her voice cracked, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. Twilight closed her eyes, trying to fight the emotions back unsuccessfully.

A hoof gently tilted Twilight’s head up to meet Celestia’s sad gaze, “I know, Twilight. It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

“I know,” Twilight whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks, “but what if he never wants to see me again?”

“Marjoram sees you as a sister. I’m certain he’s worrying himself sick that he somehow hurt you, despite my early intervention.”

“How do I tell him that I nearly killed us all because I thought I was too late to say anything? This is so stupid!”

“A good portion of the fault lies with you, Twilight. I will not lie at that count. However, I should have noticed something was very wrong the last few times I’ve seen him. He mentioned awhile ago that he was having trouble with his magic; I should have tested him then.”

“We’ve known for years that his illness could eventually make him too weak to use his magic,” Twilight protested, wiping uselessly at her eyes, trying to calm herself down,“You couldn’t have known.”

“Nonetheless, Twilight. You’re not a physician. I should have done scans myself, and had the doctor’s here look at him.”

“What would have happened if I told you?”

“Now is not the time for ‘what ifs’, Twilight. You should go to the infirmary and join Shores. She’s probably worried sick.”

“Princess, please, I need to know-”

“Twilight!” In a show of rare irritation, Celestia’s voice was sharp and harsh, “Listen to me. I will not punish you until Marjoram is in his right mind. What he needs right now is to be near those he loves and cares for. He will need all the help we can give him in the next few days. His magic is being forced into alignment, and it is going to be severely detrimental to him. Go. To. Him.”

Twilight watched in amazement as Celestia left, her strides angry and clipped. Twilight mindlessly followed Celestia’s command. Outside of the infirmary, however, she froze. Peering through the cracked open door, Twilight saw Marjoram laying where Celestia had deposited him. Shores was beside him, her face pinched with worry. Twilight was centimeters away from opening the door, but she couldn’t. Eyes still brimming with tears, and her cheeks red with shame, Twilight ran away from the brightly lit infirmary, and fled into the familiar, dark corridors that led to Marjoram’s old morgue.

(LINE BREAK)

He surveyed the line of mares brought in front of his throne, doing his best not to notice the tears and trembling bodies, “Is this it?” He demanded, staring down at one of the guards.

This must have been a new guard, judging from the shaking trembling knees and ill-fitting armour, “Y-yes, Majesty. We fol-followed your directions to the letter.”

He snorted, staring down with uncaring eyes at the terrified group of mares. Then, he stopped, staring at one purple mare in particular. Her coat and mane were filthy and ragged, but that was to be expected; all unicorns worked in the deepest parts of the mines because of their magic. Unlike the others, she was clearly trying to control her fear. Unlike the other unicorns, who wouldn’t dare use their magic against him, the ring that stopped the magic was sparking.

He strode to where she was, trying to look past the dirt and obvious overwork. He motioned for her to be turned around, so he could look at her Cutie Mark. With a smirk, he noted it was five purple stars. It was a Cutie Mark in magic; just like his was.

“She will do.”

“For what?!” The mare cried, being forced to follow by two guards.

He was surprised; no one had the nerve to talk back in years. Shooting a glance over his shoulder, his grin widened, “To be my queen of course. Why else would I look for a mare strong in body and magic?”

The mare nearly froze in shock, only moving when a guard shoved her forward roughly. He took more pleasure from the expression than he should have, “What is your name, mare?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” The mare murmured in reply, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“The name you’re to address me as is Marjoram,” he replied, “Guards, take her to her room! I expect you to be ready in an hour.”

“Ready for what?!” Twilight cried, being forced to go down a different hallway.

“Dinner.”

Marjoram’s fluttering heart and rapid breathing brought him into consciousness. He was confused for several minutes, because it was dark, and his eyesight was bleary, and the dream had been so real. Trying to move beyond opening his eyes was excruciating, and nauseating. His horn ached fiercely, and his eyes were throbbing in time with both his horn and his heart.

Trying to see through eyes that didn’t work properly was difficult, especially in the dim light. Marjoram couldn’t be sure if he was alone, or if Shores was still there. Trying to blink away the bleariness resulted in little change, but Marjoram could swear he could see the outline of somepony sitting in a chair beside his bed, though he couldn’t be sure.

Marjoram shut his eyes once more, and focused on what he remembered happening. It was fragmented, and made him feel sick thinking about it, but he needed to remember what had happened. He had almost killed Twilight, and in his rage, he would have likely tried to kill anypony he’d come across.

Marjoram, even remembering Shores’ warning about moving, threw all of his strength into his legs, wincing as the world spun and bile lingered in the back of his throat. Swallowing the burning stomach acid, Marjoram pushed himself onto his feet. His headache intensified, and he could feel his magic trying and failing to compensate. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Marjoram stumbled forward, his body protesting the entire way. I need to find her, to apologize...if she’ll let me. Marjoram didn’t want to think about what would happen if Twilight wouldn’t accept the apology.

Marjoram made it to the door, when a sudden surge of sickly, horrible, magic bubbled up from his horn, lighting the room with an eerie green light. Pain blinded Marjoram for a moment, and he stumbled against the door, leaning heavily into it, trying to breathe. Shouldn’t they be monitoring me, or something? Marjoram wondered dryly. Once the pain had settled enough for Marjoram to see a little, he continued onward, not willing to look back to see if Shores was there or not.

Running on autopilot, Marjoram’s hesitant hoofsteps lead him down to where his office had been. Marjoram could barely breathe, was half-blind, and could almost feel himself losing consciousness with each passing minute. Marjoram pushed the door open, just in time for his legs to give out. He collapsed hard onto the cold tile, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Coughing harshly, Marjoram’s eyes teared up, and his horn lit up with the horrible magic again, making him cough harder. Marjoram felt blood coating his lips.

Panic set in, but Marjoram couldn’t access his magic, didn’t have enough air to attempt to speak much less call for help, and he knew he wasn’t moving anytime soon-

Suddenly, the feeling of cobwebs dissipated, and Marjoram found himself able to breathe. Marjoram’s body gave out entirely, trying to get as much oxygen to his aching muscles as possible. Marjoram opened his eyes, and tried to see who had saved him.

“Twilight?” Marjoram asked, amazed, “Y-you...saved me?”

“What are you doing?! You’re not supposed to be leaving the infirmary!” Twilight scolded.

“Trying...trying to...find you,” Marjoram wheezed, “Want to...ap-apologize.”

“For what? I should be the one apologizing!” Twilight’s voice grew in volume and pitch, “I nearly killed everyone in the castle! Possibly Canterlot!”

“I...I attacked you!” Marjoram growled, trying to move, but his body was unresponsive, “I-I almost killed you-”

“And because of me, you destroyed your room, and attacked me! If I had just told you what was going on, none of this would have happened!” Twilight let out a choked sob, sitting down hard.

A choked, self-deprecating laugh escaped Marjoram, “Twilight...you didn’t know...Agree to disagree?”

“You don’t hate me?” Twilight asked tearfully.

“You don’t...hate me,” Marjoram replied.

Twilight nodded, “Thank you.”

Marjoram relaxed against the cold floor, “We can...talk later?”

“Of course,” Twilight sniffed, wiping her eyes.

“Good...I’m gonna p’ss...out…” Marjoram’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his body slumped into the ground.

Heart beating fast, Twilight checked his vitals, and found him still breathing. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she used her magic to bring him back to the infirmary. She found Shores fast asleep in a chair beside Marjoram’s cot. Twilight tucked Marjoram in carefully, and quietly brought a chair to Marjoram’s other side. She would support him, and she would fully explain herself the next time he regained consciousness. No tears, just the honest truth. He needs to know it was just a stupid mistake.

Twilight dozed off just as the moon began to set, and she could see the sky begin to lighten.

(LINE BREAK)

Rainbow Dash paced the length of the hallway, her mind spinning with a tangle of emotions and thoughts. She was absolutely furious about what had happened; that Marjoram had almost killed Twilight. She was also confused, because the whole situation was due to the fact that Twilight hadn’t done what she should have done.

Marjoram may have tried to kill her, but it was because of Twilight that he’d nearly done it at all.

Not only had Twilight taken the hit hard, she had also been unconsolable. After Celestia had summoned her away from her friends, Rainbow and the others had been left in the dark. They hadn’t received any news about anypony at all. They didn’t know if Twilight had been banished (or worse), or even if Marjoram was even alive.

Rainbow had tried to sleep, but she hadn’t been able to. Neither had any of her friends, and they had spent most of the night talking, trying to figure out how such an ‘egghead’ like Twilight could ever mess up so badly. They also wondered what would happen to Marjoram; since he had destroyed a portion of the palace, and had nearly killed somepony.

They wondered if they would ever see either of the unicorns again. That had lead to a discussion about what would happen to poor Spike, who had been in the kitchens when the initial explosions had occurred. In all, the situation was messed up, and nopony could begin to guess at what would happen.

There was only five days until the early Hearth’s Warming Celebration that was supposed to happen between the friends. As awful as it was to imagine, Rainbow briefly thought about if she should return the present she’d gotten for Marjoram or not.

The familiar sound of claws clicking on tiled floor made Rainbow look up. Spike was trotting down the hall, panting for breath, “Twilight wants to see everypony! I’m supposed to get you!”

“Where is she?”

“In the infirmary,” Spike panted, coming to a stop. He rested his paws against his legs, trying to catch his breath.

“I thought she was okay!” Rainbow exclaimed, her voice almost cracking from the sudden change in pitch.

“She’s fine. She’s with Marjoram. Go get the others, she’ll explain everything!”

Rainbow had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, but she did what Spike asked her to do. She fetched everypony else, and followed Spike down to the infirmary. Rainbow couldn’t help but be amazed at the room.

The infirmary was massive. Large stone pillars held up the decorated ceiling, far above the ceiling. Several clouds were held up high above the floor, probably to make the pegasi patients and doctors more comfortable. The hum of machinery and magic blended together so it was impossible to tell one from the other, and it was easy to see that the ponies who worked here really did the best they could. Dozens of cots were intermixed with machines, equipment, testing facilities, and doctors milling around. Nurses were helping the few patients toward the back wall, and a few ponies were changing sheets, mopping the floor, and making sure things were as hygienic as possible.

Marjoram was easy to spot; since he had the cot closest to the door. Shores was in a chair on the left side of his bed, sorting through papers. Twilight was on the other side, curled up in a chair, her nose buried in a book.

Twilight heard the large wooden doors open, and looked up from the book. She set it down on Marjoram’s cot, and got up to greet them, “I’m so sorry, girls! I didn’t mean to leave you all for so long, I just got caught up in everything-”

“Forget us! What about him? Why hasn’t Celestia banished him yet?”

“He’s not going to be banished!” Shores looked aghast at the mere suggestion, “It wasn’t his fault!”

“He almost killed Twilight!” Rainbow protested, gesturing to the prone stallion on the cot, “and he destroyed some of the palace! Isn’t that treason or something?”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Twilight repeated, “It was mine. It happened because I didn’t tell him the truth about what was going on with his illness or his magic.”

“Darling, what do those things have anything to do with the other?”

“A unicorn’s horn is a conduit for magic,” Shores began blandly, like she’d heard the speech multiple times, “It stores some magic as well, but the majority of the magic that a unicorn draws upon is in their body. It takes strength to do so, as well as willpower. If a unicorn’s body is not strong enough to direct the magic into the horn, the unicorn can’t cast spells. With Marjoram’s illness, we’ve been worried the illness would finally make him too weak to access the magic. That’s what he thought was happening to him.”

“But that’s not what happened,” Twilight butted in, “At the Summer Sun Celebration Nightmare Moon awakened his body’s potential for dark magic. Every time he cast a light spell, the level of dark magic rose to fill in the space. His light magic weakened as time passed, and the dark magic grew. He couldn’t work of the excess magic, because he didn’t know it was there. I did, I thought I was making things better, but I only made everything worse. He found out what I did, and it sparked a base instinct to use the dark magic. Once it started, it couldn’t stop on its own. When he saw me, the person who had done such a bad thing to him, the instinct took over,” Twilight sighed, “He didn’t even know it was me until later.”

Rainbow blinked, “So...you really messed it up didn’t you?”

Twilight nodded, “Yeah, I-I really did.”

Shores sighed, “He’s forgiven you Twilight. Don’t forget that. If you don’t mind, I have some more paperwork to go through. Twilight, you go with your friends. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Twilight nodded, and reluctantly followed her friends out of the infirmary. She didn’t want to leave, but knew it was best to follow Shores’ wishes. Twilight allowed Spike to climb onto her back, to give Marjoram and Shores some privacy.

Once Twilight and her friends left, Shores turned to Marjoram and smiled, “You’ve gotten better than when you were a colt, but don’t try to think you can fool me into thinking you’re asleep when you’re hooked up to a heart monitor.”

“That bad?” Marjoram wheezed, opening his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Shores asked.

“Bad,” Marjoram attempted to sit up, but relented when Shores pushed him back down.

“Celestia said she’d be by sometime later today, to see how everything’s settling,” Shores said quietly, “After your trek to freedom last night, I doubt she’ll be pleased, so stay laying down will you?”

“Why do I need...to stay down?”

“To help I guess. Haven’t you felt worse when trying to do stuff?”

“I always feel bad...when trying to do...stuff.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Shores replied, “But please don’t make yourself worse. Is there anything I can do?”

“Water?”

“Of course. Dr. Pnemo remembers you. He left a pitcher here for you.”

“Tell him...thanks.”

“You’ll see him soon enough, I’m sure. He’s on his lunch break now, I think.”

“Which means he’ll be...by any minute.”

Shores smiled, “Probably. That stallion is almost as stubborn as you are.”

Marjoram snorted. Shores poured him a glass of water, and held it for him as he drank, “There. That better?”

“Much,” Marjoram replied, his voice sounding a little better.

“Good. Now-”

“Good morning, Marjoram! I’d like to say it’s good to see you, but I usually only see you if you’re very ill,” A middle-aged stallion, with a grey coat and black mane and tail, interrupted. He held a clipboard in his magical aura, squinting at the small writing, even with his glasses.

Marjoram let out a wheezy chuckle, “Are you surprised?”

“Not after all these years, no. Though, your lungs don’t look as bad as I’d feared they would. Drink plenty of water, and get lots of rest. Princess Celestia assures me everything should be back to late winter norms in a few days at maximum.”

“Thanks Dr. Pnemo,” Shores smiled, “Make sure he eats, will you? We don’t want him losing any more weight.”

Dr. Pnemo chuckled, “I’ll take it up with the nurses. Don’t worry, Shores. I’ll make sure your boy is as good as he’ll get.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Marjoram here will appreciate not being bedridden,” Dr. Pnemo hooked the clipboard to the end of Marjoram’s cot, “I’ll be back later to check his vitals. I’ll see you both soon,” with that, the doctor left, going to the back of the infirmary to see what he could do to help.

Marjoram relaxed into his pillows, feeling his heavy eyelids threatening to close, “Shores?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Would you sing that song that...you used to sing to Carnation? Please?”

“Of course,” Shores leaned in close, and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the words and melody of the song.

“Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,
Smiles await you when you rise,
Sleep, my pretty pony, and don’t you cry,
I’ll sing you a lullaby.

Cares you know not,
Therefore sleep,
While over you a watch I’ll keep.
Sleep, pretty pony, don’t you cry,
I’ll sing you a lullaby.”

Shores’ voice broke on the last note, as she remembered singing to the twins just after they arrived in Canterlot. They had been a little old for that type of song, but they hadn’t cared. One of the last things Carnation had heard while lucid had been that song. Wiping at suddenly teary eyes, Shores found Marjoram fast asleep, snoring softly, a smile playing on his lips.

Shores closed her eyes once more. Thinking of the bright, young filly, Shores sent up an almost-prayer. Please let him sleep peacefully. You of all ponies know he deserves it.

Author's Note

This one is kinda all over the place. I like it though.

The end of the next chapter will be the beginning of the Hearth's Warming arc. The beginning will be more plot relevant. I'm really happy with what I've got going here.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

Training and Shopping

Marjoram stared into Celestia’s kind eyes, the first lesson of the day swirling around in his mind.

“The key to controlling the dark magic is laughter.” Celestia had told him only moments before.

Marjoram stared down at his hooves, and shook his head, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not,” Celestia intoned, “For you to master dark magic properly, you need to be able to tap into joy and happiness.”

“Yes, because I’m drowning in happiness at all times,” Marjoram returned blandly.

“Why does him learning to tap into happy emotions have to do with dark magic?” Shores asked, who had asked to sit and wait in the sidelines of the room.

“Magic isn’t traditionally divided into good spell and evil spells,” Celestia began, “Magic is essentially chaos that we ponies have access to. Given the proper training, any pony can innately tap into the magic around them, and bend it to some degree. Earth ponies shape the land, pegasi shape the weather, and unicorns can cast almost any spell imaginable. As time passed, and ponies began to learn the Way of Harmony, many spells were deemed cruel, and dark. Hence, why there are ‘evil’ spells, and ‘good’ spells. Magic is a force in Equestria,.and after so many generations of ponykind turning its back against certain types of magic, pony bodies have become sensitive to its use. So, for ponies to use it, they need to be trained, and have the capacity to use it developed. In Marjoram’s case, his potential was activated, and his body began to collect ambient dark magic, and collected more and more until the portion of storage that once held the energies used for light magic was all but gone.”

“So his horn was overtaken by energy he didn’t know how to use?”

Marjoram nodded, “Yes. In a nutshell.”

“That doesn’t tell me how laughter is supposed to help!”

Marjoram sighed, “Magic is controlled through willpower, emotions, and intent. Unicorns are trained to use willpower and intention, since the spells are less likely to blow up because of inner turmoil. Some spells do require emotions-”

“So dark spells...need joy to work?” Shores’ face scrunched in confusion, “That doesn’t seem right.”

“The many dark ponies didn’t think about happiness. That is why they were eventually overtaken by their own powers.”

“Oh...okay,” Shores replied. She still looked confused, but didn’t press the issue.

“I’d rather stab myself in the heart with my own horn then become anything remotely close to Pinkie Pie.”

“You’ll do whatever is damned well needed!” Shores snapped, “It’ll do you good to lighten up a little.”

Marjoram cast a glance at Celestia, hoping to find a hint of salvation. The smirk curling Celestia’s lips told him otherwise, “Fine! Good Creators mare.”

“Think of it like meditation,” Celestia intoned.

Marjoram closed his eyes, trying to ignore the stares of Celestia and Shores. He thought hard about what made him happy, what sort of things would make him laugh, and what generally made him feel emotionally alright.

A cool breeze, smells of fresh pastries, the sound, smell, and feel of old parchment, Twilight’s laugh….the list began to form, and solidify. All the while, Marjoram controlled his breathing, and relaxed. Soon enough, a crooked smile tugged at his lips, and he felt one of Celestia’s hooves on his shoulder.

“There. That’s the feeling you need to keep in your heart when you start training. Feeling that happiness, and love, will also stop you from building too much of the dark magic.”

Marjoram breathed a sigh, “Good to know. What else?”

“Well, now the levels of both magical energies have settled, I’d like to see if you can learn to cast spells as quickly as you did when you were first training. I’ve brought the instructions for a spell. Shores and I will stand to the side, and allow you to work. Remember, joy.”

Marjoram nodded, looking at the instructions first. There was no point getting ahead of himself. Beside the piece of parchment lay a clear, stone bowl of water.

Concentrate on what, or who, you would like to see. Think hard about why you want to view them, and your will will be done.

Marjoram raised a skeptical eyebrow: a very simple spell, no incantation or ingredients. Thinking, Marjoram thought of his happiness, and found himself relaxing marginally. After a few minutes, Marjoram focused on Kafir, imagining him.

When Marjoram opened his eyes, Kafir was pictured in the bowl, fighting a horrendous looking creature with a platoon of Celestia’s Guard. The creature was not one Marjoram recognized, but it was bleeding heavily, and seemed to be slowing down. Kafir, lunged past the guards, and stabbed his sword deep into the beast’s chest, killing it swiftly.

Marjoram blinked, and the vision faded. He looked over at Celestia, who had a small smile on her face. Shores, on the other hoof, looked uncomfortable.

“Isn’t scrying very illegal?” Shores asked quietly, “Since it could be easily used for spying? And communication with enemies?”

“Yes, however, it is a simple spell that combines the two magical energies. Nothing he will cast will put him in jeopardy of being arrested, unless he uses them with bad intent. Marjoram scried well. Now, I’m going to show him how to sense the difference between them. You don’t need to be here for this, Shores. Go on, it’s late. Marjoram, I’m sure, will fill you in tomorrow.”

Shores shifted her weight from hoof to hoof. She looked at Marjoram, who smiled, “You won’t overdo it?”

“I promise,” Marjoram replied steadily, “The spells I’ll be casting will probably be exceedingly illegal. I don’t want you uncomfortable.”

Shores nodded, “Good luck. Don’t kill yourself. Remember to sleep-”

“Creators, mare,” Marjoram interrupted, “I’ll be fine. Go.”

“Goodnight,” Shores left slowly, still clearly unsure if she wanted to leave or not. When she shut the door behind her, Marjoram relaxed marginally.

“What don’t you want her to see?” Marjoram asked.

“This lesson will likely hurt,” Celestia replied, “I don’t want her to worry.”

“She always worries,” Marjoram looked sheepish for a moment, “I...I sometimes forget she’s not my real mother. She was there for Carnation and I far more than our mother was. Even now she acts more like a mother than mine ever did.”

“It’s understandable, Marjoram. There’s no shame in that,” Celestia smiled warmly, “You and Carnation were young, and Sea Shores clearly wanted to be there for you both in ways I never could be.”

Marjoram nodded, “That’s true. Now, back to the reason we’re here. How do I tell the difference between the energies?”

“Cast an energy bolt at me, as you did with Nightmare Moon. Don’t hold back, you need to feel the difference.”

Marjoram nodded. He braced himself, and closed his eyes. Tugging at the magic held in his horn, body, and the land around him, he let the magic build up in his horn before releasing it. It wasn’t as raw as the one that he’d used with Nightmare Moon, and was far less taxing on his body.

Celestia protected herself with a magical shield, Marjoram’s magic was absorbed, “Did you feel it?”

“It was magical, filled with thought and intent. Not emotion.”

Celestia nodded, but a small frown appeared, “You’ll understand soon. Now, tap into your joy. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Will tapping into joy be any less of a pain in the ass at any time in the near future?” Marjoram asked.

“You’ll get used to it. It will become habit soon enough.”

Marjoram nodded, and thought of happiness as it slowly suffused his being. When he was done, he nodded, “I’m good.”

“Now, you need to think of the things that fill you with rage, and hatred,” Celestia said, “or any ‘darker’ emotion that you have in abundance.”

“Still keeping the happiness feeling in me?”

“If you can. If not, thinking hard about a specific thing or person will be good enough until you master the technique.”

Marjoram’s thoughts turned to Twilight and Spike. Their happiness, and the pursuit thereof, was one of his major drives in life. Thinking of them, while trying to think of everything that made him angry, was difficult, but Marjoram soon compartmented; keeping Twilight and Spike in the back of his mind, while thinking the dark thoughts in the forefront.

Ponies’ refusal to understand that he was ill, ponies taking their families for granted, ponies taking their health for granted…once the list was started, the list continued to flow. Pinkie’s laugh, Rainbow’s ‘too cool’ attitude, murderers who got away on nothing more than a fluke.

Soon, Marjoram found himself angry, and barely holding onto the thoughts of Twilight and Spike.

Celestia nodded, “Now do the same thing. With emotions and all.”

Marjoram tugged hard on the magic, fueling it mostly with emotions and willpower. The difference was startling; while good magic was shaped by intent, willpower, and emotions, darker magic fed and amplified the dark emotions. It felt slimy, and sickly, and heavy. Marjoram threw the magic out of his horn, and the magic exploded out of it like projectile vomit. It was black, green, and purple, felt and smelled foul, and Marjoram could swear it was a viscous fluid from how it oozed and bubbled.

Celestia once more erected a shield, and the magic slid off of it, pooling into puddles before dissipating completely. Marjoram couldn’t help but feel shocked, and exhausted. He slumped to the ground, staring up where he could see the tip of his horn, trying to breathe through the throbbing of his horn

“It’s astounding isn’t it?”

Marjoram nodded, “It’s...profound. I don’t want Twilight to ever experience that feeling if I can help it.”

Celestia nodded, “I’d prefer she didn’t, either. Now, that’s enough for tonight. I’ll teach you some more control tomorrow night, but we all want to be as rested for two Hearth’s Warming Eves as we can get.”

Marjoram nodded, secretly thankful that Celestia had called it a night. He wasn’t sure if he’d been able to do much more casting. He felt tired, and his lungs ached fiercely, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Keep focusing on your happiness, and keep trying to feel the different energies inside and outside your body. It will get easier the more you practise.”

Marjoram nodded, and stood on shaking legs. Feeling tired, he made his way to his room. He collapsed on his new bed, the old one had been destroyed in the blast, and soon fell asleep.

(LINE BREAK)

Bleary eyed, and hating Equestria with every atom of his being, Marjoram had awoken at six in the morning, and had been unable to fall back asleep, much to his chagrin. After trying to get himself back to sleep without resorting to alcohol for nearly an hour, Marjoram reluctantly got up and tried to ready himself for the day.

He had two days to find presents for Twilight’s friends, and Twilight and Spike for the makeshift Hearth’s Warming Celebration. Then he had a little more than a week to try to create paintings or drawings for Shores, Spike, Twilight, Celestia, and Luna.

As exhausted as Marjoram felt, he knew he had to go into the streets of Canterlot to buy gifts. The stores would be busy enough before the last minute Hearth’s Warming rush, much less later in the day. Marjoram put on his boots, scarf, and cloak, and made sure his saddlebags were on correctly before making his way out of the palace.

The journey took him longer than he’d liked, but Marjoram figured saving his strength for the shopping would be more appropriate than wasting it all before he left the castle.

The cobblestones were covered in a light, fluffy layer of snow that shone in the early morning light. The walkways had been cleared already by pegasi, which minimized the slipperiness of the paths. Feeling chilled, and beginning to already feel his lungs complaining about the cold, Marjoram picked up the pace a little, hoping that he would feel a little warmer through exercise.

Winding his way through early risers, Marjoram found his way to the shopping district. The elegant fountain in the middle of the square didn’t spurt water, but it was still as coolly beautiful as it always was, even with the lack of flowing water. Marjoram resolved to shop until he’d found something, however small, for everypony.

Marjoram entered the stores farthest away from the palace first, and began to browse. This was a welcome thing for many of the still-half asleep store owners, since Marjoram wasn’t the type of customer to chat needlessly. The owners who were chatty at eight in the morning, did nothing but earn Marjoram’s ire, as he was not a pony who willingly woke up at almost any time of day, much less six in the morning.

However, Marjoram did have luck in finding presents. For Rarity he found a bolt of elegant, hoofmade silk from the Chineighs. It was a lovely blue teal colour, that Marjoram thought would make a lovely dress. For Applejack, Marjoram found a bottle of her farms apple wine, that was almost forty years old. It was either going to be the best wine anypony had ever tasted, or it was going to be apple vinegar, and nopony could tell until the bottle was opened. It had taken a lot of rummaging, but Marjoram had eventually found a book on wildlife in the Griffon lands for Fluttershy. He had found the first few issues of the Power Pony comics for Spike as well, from the first run of the comic series before Marjoram was born. For Twilight, he’d found an ancient copy of The Theories of Magic, which was falling apart, but could be salvaged.

For Rainbow Dash, Marjoram had walked into three different stores before finding a reference book, with plenty of pictures, about the history of the Wonderbolts. Marjoram didn’t know if the mare read, but didn’t really care. Rainbow could cut the pictures out to hang on her wall for all Marjoram cared, but he’d found something the mare was bound to at least appreciate. Pinkie Pie had been a challenge as well, but Marjoram had simply found the weirdest recipe book he could find and figured it would be good enough.

The rush of ponies had increased by now, and Marjoram’s body was beginning to protest the cold, the activity, and the ponies. Marjoram began to make his way back to the palace, stopping briefly at the art supplies store to get more canvases and some paints.

The way back was mostly uphill, something that made Marjoram regret his heavy saddlebags within a few meters of the hill. Marjoram grit his teeth, and pushed forward, promising himself a nap when he got back to the palace.

“Hey! Marjoram, what are you doin’ out here?!” Marjoram’s ears twitched, and Marjoram looked across the bustling street to find Applejack and Rarity standing on the other walkway, already beginning to cross over to where Marjoram stood.

Marjoram had to resist the urge to groan, instead standing awkwardly, trying not to block passersby. Rarity and Applejack seemed to have been shopping as well, judging by the saddlebags.

“I do believe he’s shopping, dear,” Rarity smiled, brushing her mane out of her eyes, “Just like us. Are you on your way back?”

Marjoram nodded, “Yeah.”

“We’ll walk back together then,” Rarity said brightly. Marjoram lead the way, expertly weaving through the throngs of ponies, and trying to keep up with the conversation Applejack and Rarity were having.

Marjoram didn’t butt in, not wanting to waste the air, but it seemed the two mares were trying to pull him into the conversation anyway. Marjoram was pulled from focus on walking and breathing at the same time, when Applejack asked something.

Marjoram half turned, “What?” He didn’t like how breathless and irritated he sounded, but didn’t care, trying not to slip on the occasional slippery part of the walkway.

“Did you just finish your Hearth’s Warming shopping?” Applejack repeated.

“Yes,” Maybe, if Marjoram responded with one-word answers, they wouldn’t expect him to talk.

“We’re surprised you’re up and about so quickly, darling,” Rarity said suddenly, craftfully dodging a newspaper pony who's bike had drifted from the road to the walkway, “You were just so sick-”

“Happens sometimes,” Marjoram bit his tongue, trying to remember to keep his tone at least neutral if he couldn’t manage polite.

Marjoram twisted around, too late realizing his hoof had landed directly on a patch of ice. Thankfully, the ponies that had once been so crowded, parted for the falling stallion so he wouldn’t get trampled.

Marjoram, reacting instinctively, used his magic to shield the saddlebags from the collision, and tried to get himself straightened, only to make the fall a little more pathetic. Landing hard, Marjoram didn’t have time to register the fact that he’d knocked the breath out of himself before hooves hoisted him up, and dragged him off the busy street, down a deserted side road.

Coughing harshly, Marjoram had to fight to breathe before he could look up at Applejack and Rarity. Both of them looked very concerned.

“I’m alright,” Marjoram rasped, “Really. Give me a minute, and we can make the rest of the trip.”

“I’m sorry, Marjoram,” Rarity said quietly, “I didn’t think about your...condition. We should have saved the chatter for when we got back.”

“Yeah,” Applejack agreed quietly, “I apologize.”

Marjoram shrugged, “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not!” Rarity declared, “We need to remember that you have extenuating circumstances. That was careless of us.”

Marjoram blinked, staring at the two mares, and not detecting a hint of pity. Shaking himself, Marjoram carefully rose to his hooves, and took a few cautious steps, “I’m good. Let’s go.”

The rest of the way back to the palace was uneventful, and quiet. Two things that Marjoram appreciated. Mumbling an excuse, Marjoram practically fled from Rarity and Applejack, heading down to where the morgue had been.

Marjoram stashed the presents deep inside a cupboard, and sunk into a chair. Letting his head hit the desk, he let out a moan. The next couple of days are going to suck.

Author's Note

This is kinda filler, but I enjoyed writing this. I've started setting some stuff up, so I'm excited for the next chapter. I know I said this two chapters ago, but I promise the next one will be Hearth's Warming.

Thank you to Elsaack for your ideas.

Hearth's Warming Pt 1

Twilight watched as Marjoram turned the page in his current book, his brows furrowed in concentration. Twilight couldn’t see the cover of the book, since it was laying down on the table, but she knew it was one of the books Celestia had given Marjoram to help him with the magic.

Twilight knew the magical energies within Marjoram’s body and horn had been forced into place, and as such, Marjoram’s horn didn’t need to stop the magic from the magic trying to hurt anypony while the magic was released back into the world. However, Marjoram had strung the ring on a chain, and wore it around his neck. Twilight didn’t know if it was supposed to be a reminder, or a just in case, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know for certain.

As much as Marjoram had improved physically, Twilight could tell there was something wrong otherwise, be it mentally or emotionally. Twilight couldn’t point a hoof at what exactly was wrong, but she knew something was. Twilight watched Marjoram over the cover of her own book, wondering what he was learning.

Celestia had refused to tell Twilight anything about what she was teaching Marjoram, and Marjoram was silent about it as well. All Twilight knew was that the spells were mostly illegal, and that Marjoram wasn’t going to get in trouble for casting them. Twilight itched to know what was going on with her mentors, but knew it was better to keep her muzzle out of it.

Celestia had also not mentioned a suitable punishment for Twilight, despite her earlier warning. As much as Twilight worried about her future, she was happy to see that Marjoram didn’t seem to be suffering long-lasting effects.

“What do you want, Twilight?” Marjoram asked suddenly, looking up from his book.

Twilight started, nearly dropping her book, “I-I’m sorry…just thinking.”

“Excited for the feast tonight?” Marjoram changed the subject, not wanting to press Twilight further.

“I’m sad my friends have to go back to Ponyville tomorrow morning, but yes. I’m excited for everything. Spike’s even more excited, you should see him chatting with the girls....it’s pretty cute.”

Marjoram nodded, “He’s young. And he’s bound to get more than four presents this year. It’s exciting for anypony.”

“Did you buy him something?” Twilight asked, “For tonight?”

“Of course. I found a few of the Power Pony comics he likes, the old ones. I’m painting him something for actual Hearth’s Warming.”

“He’ll like that. He’s mentioned a few times that the library doesn’t have the personal touches our room here has.”

Marjoram nodded, “I figured. He’s dealt really well with the changes, but I think it’ll be nice to make the library feel a little more like home for him.”

Twilight nodded, “Yeah. Are you excited?” She asked hesitantly, not wanting the conversation to end, but also not sure what else they could talk about.

Marjoram said nothing for almost an entire minute, making Twilight’s cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Should I not have asked him that?

“I don’t know, Twilight. I don’t know if I’m excited to spend an evening with them. I don’t know how they feel about me after everything that’s happened. Though, I’m happy you’re excited,” Marjoram’s lips quirked into a crooked smile, “That’s what matters, making sure my family is happy.”

Twilight blinked, “But we’re not related.”

“We might as well be,” Marjoram retorted, “Over ten years, Twilight. We’ve known each other for over ten years. That is one third of my life, and over half of yours. That isn’t an insignificant amount of time-”

Twilight recognized the slight hint of panic that was rising in Marjoram’s voice, and realized he was right. They were more than student and teacher and more than friends, their lives so intrinsically entwined that Twilight hadn’t even noticed. They practically raised Spike themselves, with lots of advice and help from Shores and Celestia, and had lived just a hallway apart for the majority of the year, for ten years.

Twilight loved Shining and her parents, but she wasn’t as close to them as she could be, since her studies took so much of her time. Marjoram, without Twilight realizing it, had become a second brother, or perhaps an eccentric uncle.

Breaking out of her thoughts, Twilight realized Marjoram’s panic had only grown during her silence. His normal, calm demeanor had melted away, leaving a slightly panicked, wide-eyed look on his face. Twilight didn’t see this face often, and cleared her throat, stopping Marjoram mid-sentence.

“Marjoram, breathe. I’m sorry, I just...realized that we really are more like family than anything else.”

Marjoram let out a sigh, relaxing, “Good...I just worried I’d put my hoof in my mouth-”

“As if you don’t do that enough already,” Twilight teased, “C’mon, I’m tougher than that. Ten years, remember?”

Marjoram smiled, “Fair enough. Anyway, it’s time we should head over to the private dining room. I might need to rest halfway there, and I don’t want us to be late because of poor timing.”

“Especially with me around. What would ponies think of my organization skills then?”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, and stood, “Enough banter. Let’s go.”

(LINE BREAK)

It would be a lie to say that Celestia wasn’t worried. She knew better than anypony else the awkwardness that would come about from Marjoram’s incident. He had a few tentative friends in Twilight’s friend group, but nothing solid enough to take such a blow without consequence.

With the six personalities fate had brought together, added with Marjoram, Luna, Shores, Spike, and Celestia herself, it was going to be an interesting dinner. Since it wasn’t yet Hearth’s Warming, the meal wouldn’t be quite as extravagant as it was on the actual holiday, but Shores had assured Celestia that preparing something similar to the Hearth’s Warming feast would be good for the newer additions to the kitchen staff. Nonetheless, drama stalked holidays like paparazzi stalked celebrities. It wasn’t good for anypony, since the holiday season was so stressful already, but drama always happened.

Unlike the actual palace feast, this wouldn’t be a formal, black tie affair: it was a meal for friends. They would spend the evening together as friends, then Twilight’s friends would leave the next morning. That would give them nearly two days with their family before Hearth’s Warming Day.

All Celestia had to do now, was to try to ensure that nopony did, or said anything they would later regret. If only it will be that easy. I pray to the creators it is…

The door opened, allowing Shores and Luna to enter the room, both looking more than a little apprehensive.

“Is everything set for the dinner?” Shores asked, “I-I can fly down there quickly to see-”

“You said your staff could handle it. We shouldn’t second-guess them now, should we?”

“No...I suppose not,” Shores took a deep breath, “I just want this to go off without a hitch.”

“You and I both,” Celestia smiled warmly, “Come, sit down. No point making ourselves uncomfortable while we wait for everypony else to arrive. How are you feeling Luna? I trust you got plenty of sleep?”

“Yes we did, sister,” Luna tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace than anything else, “We’re ready for tonight’s celebration.”

Celestia touched Luna’s shoulder, “You’ll be fine. These ponies are the ones that helped you, remember? They understand, and they don’t harbour any resentment towards you.”

“Even the one that Nightmare Moon hurt? Marjoram?”

“He doesn’t hate anypony,” Shores piped in, “No matter what anypony else might think or say. He finds it a waste of energy.”

“Damn right,” Marjoram said, earning a glare from Twilight as she followed him into the room.

“I thought you hated everypony?” Twilight challenged.

“I dislike many ponies,” Marjoram corrected, “there is a difference, no matter what ponies say. Hating takes too much energy.”

Shores rolled her eyes, “Don’t go telling everypony that, you’re such a pain in the ass that it’ll be almost impossible to get anyone else to be your friend.”

There was a slight hitch, but Marjoram chuckled, “I’ve got enough friends, and I have more family than I ever thought I’d get.”

Shores playfully punched Marjoram in the shoulder, “You can’t have too many friends.”

“You can if you’re chronically ill. Lots of ponies equal lots of germs, which means I’ll catch whatever nasty bug is being spread around.”

“Is that really true?” Luna asked hesitantly, “You would become ill?”

“He has a higher chance than most, it makes him twitchy,” Shores leaned into Marjoram’s side, smiling too sweetly.

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “I am not twitchy, just cautious.”

Luna nodded, “Understandable. Where are the others?”

“Coming,” Twilight replied, “Soon. They’re bringing Spike with them, last I’d heard.”

“Let’s hope so,” Marjoram replied dryly, “He’s going to be angry if they forget him.”

“We couldn’t forget Spike!” Pinkie called as she bounced into the room, Spike clutching tightly to her mane. The moment Pinkie stopped moving, Spike slid off her back, and flopped onto the ground, muttering promises of never asking Pinkie for a ride again.

“That would be horribly rude of us,” Rarity said, holding the door open with her magic for the others as they filed into the room.

Marjoram shuffled his hooves, then sat beside Shores silently, clearly unsure of what to say or do. Everypony else followed, chatting amicably amongst themselves. Celestia sat at the head of the table, with Luna on her right side and Twilight at her left. Marjoram across from Twilight, on Shores’s left side. Spike sat on the other side of Twilight, as the rest of Twilight’s friends filled up the other seats.

Celestia rang a small bell, and the doors opened once more, and several of the wait staff hurried in carrying trays on their backs. The feast was laid before them, in all its glory, and the staff scurried off.

Celestia and Luna started serving themselves first, offering to pass platters down. Twilight, Shores, Spike, and Marjoram followed their lead, telling the others that the meal was no different than any other.

“This all looks amazing,” Twilight gushed, serving Spike some mashed potatoes, “You have to tell the staff they’ve really outdone themselves this year.”

“It’ll be better for the actual feast, dear. This was more of a trial run for the newbies,” Shores replied, “But thank you. I’ll let them know I’ve trained them well.”

Spike was barely holding back from stuffing his face with the palace food he’d grown up with, “Thish ish r’lly go’d!”

“Not with your mouth full!” Marjoram and Twilight scolded in unison. Spike’s cheeks blushed a darker purple, and he swallowed.

Pinkie giggled, “It’s okay, Spike! You’re still a baby dragon!”

Spike rolled his eyes, “Yeah, a baby dragon. I’m not just a baby.”

“Of course you’re not, dear,” Rarity piped in, taking a dainty bite of roasted hay.

Spike pouted, staying quiet instead of raising a fuss at the table. Marjoram shot Twilight a pointed glare, and she nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line.

“What grade level is your reading at?” Marjoram asked, “Last time we checked?”

“It was....grade ten, wasn’t it? First year apprenticeships level?”

Marjoram nodded, “Yes. Math skills?”

“Grade eight; the end of the universal education system for young ponies.”

“Did you wish to continue with that subject?”

“No.”

“What grade level would you be at now, do you think?”

“Probably a little less than my reading. Math isn’t my best subject,” Spike winced at the memories of long math lessons.

“Science?”

“Undetermined. After using the last of the grade eight curriculums you could find, we’ve just been tackling whatever I’ve felt like learning.”

“History, geography, politics, law?”

“Everything but law is the same as science. You know this stuff, why are?-oh,” Spike turned to look at Twilight’s friends for the first time since Marjoram had butt in. They were all staring at the young dragon, in varying states of shock.

Marjoram glared down the table, “Spike is far more advanced in many subjects than most ponies will ever achieve in their lifetime. This is because his intelligence is not the same as ponies, since the early years of dragons are meant for learning and discovering knowledge. The other part is because he lived with the two students Princess Celestia has taken on in the last hundred years. Yes, his extensive book knowledge is hindered by the fact that he’s inexperienced, but the only way to gain experience is time. Spike is ten years old; he has plenty of time left to put this knowledge to good use-”

“Thanks,” Spike interrupted, “but I think they’re still processing my grade levels.”

“That reminds me, actually,” Celestia butted in, “I found a few new books about dragons I’d like to loan you three. I’ve read them already, and the majority of the information is quite new.”

“Where did you get them?” Twilight asked.

“The Prench ambassador. She heard we’ve been searching for any and all sources on dragons. She was very sorry to have missed you, Marjoram. She was hoping to chat with you about the implications of Equestria’s cultural views of morticians, pathologists, and the like. She enjoyed your conversation last time.”

“Give her my address. We can exchange letters if she’s amenable.”

“You know the Prench ambassador!?” Rarity squealed.

“Yes. I literally ran into her father when I was a colt, he was the previous ambassador, and since I was already Celestia’s student everypony thought it would be good to build some relations between myself and his daughter. We’ve been...not friends, but...good acquaintances? We usually debate more than we discuss.”

“That’s amazing,” Rarity said quietly.

Marjoram shrugged, “You get used to it. I know many of the ambassadors, even only in passing.”

“They’re quite an eclectic bunch,” Celestia intoned, sipping a cup of tea.

Rarity stared at Marjoram, clearly trying to school her facial features into a calm mask of indifference that many of the upper-classes used when looking down on situations they didn’t like; such as poverty, death, taxes, and the like.

“What’s the difference between a mortician and a pathologist?” Spike asked suddenly, “Don’t they both look at bodies?”

“Pathologists look at the body, and examine it through science to see what the cause of death was,” Marjoram replied, “Morticians prepare the body for the funeral, and they often perform cremation.”

Spike nodded, then his brows furrowed, “I thought you were a mortician?”

Marjoram sighed, then took a deep breath,“Ever since Equestrian society and culture deemed that any death that couldn’t be from anything other than accidents, natural causes, illness, and the like didn’t happen, anypony who works extensively with bodies tends to lump them all under the moniker ‘mortician’. I don’t prepare the bodies for funerals. I examine the tissues, and body itself to see what the pony died from. If necessary, I will travel to view bodies and will clean them up to some degree. Usually, though, I simply ensure they won’t....” Marjoram trailed off, “erhm...get damaged due to bodily processes that occur after death, figure out what they died from, then send them home for the burial. It has been centuries since ponykind has wanted open-casket funerals, and wanted embalming and the like-”

“Embalming?” Applejack asked, clearly unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

“Preserving the body,” Marjoram replied flatly, “Equestria’s current culture deems it taboo to mention things like murder, drug addiction, and other things that go against the Way of Harmony. So, when a pony is suspected of dying from something, or somepony, it tends to be pretty hush-hush. Most ponies don’t want to look, or touch their dead loved ones after they’re gone.”

“Why?” Spike asked, still shoveling food into his maw.

“After Nightmare Moon’s banishment to the moon, superstitions rose that she brought back the dead, and that anypony who knew anything to do with the dead became stereotyped and hated,” Luna cut in, speaking slowly as if she was repeating a lecture from memory, “The more taboo the idea of handling bodies became, so did everything attached to it, like looking and working with bodies.”

“That’s...kinda sad,” Spike said quietly, “Is that why the ponies back in Ponyville tried to smash your windows, and stuff?”

“Primarily,” Marjoram replied, “They fear what they don’t understand.”

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Applejack said slowly, “That’s...surprisingly interesting.”

“That’s why the few ponies that work with bodies here in Equestria tend to stay in larger cities. Many doctors in small villages know the cause of death because they treated the ponies before they died, or it’s relatively straight-forward. However, there’s a lot of places who don’t have anypony like me. That’s why hospitals and police-stations call me from such a wide area.”

“How do you get paid?” Rainbow asked flatly.

Marjoram sighed, “It depends. A lot of the time, the Crown will cover my services for the next of kin. Sometimes, ponies have to pay me themselves. Usually, the Crown just adds the money to my account once all the paperwork is completed. If the ponies have to pay me, they usually do it face to face. I tend to put half of the sum into an account for Spike, while the other half usually goes into my research or is donated to the Canterlot Hospital.”

“He’s got a bench named after him,” Spike added, moving to a small bowl of gems that had been provided for him.

“And I’ve donated enough to help the research department make several breakthroughs, which were important enough to get a bench that was dedicated to me,” Marjoram clarified, “It also doesn’t help that I practically lived there for the winter for several years, before the clinic in the palace was made available year round.”

The rest of the dinner was peppered with conversation: fashion trends, animal friends, the Wonderbolts, agriculture, party planning, and anything else somepony brought up. Dessert was served, and Celestia invited everyone to her private office to exchange gifts if they had any. The evening was going to be spent in the company of friends.

Marjoram fetched the presents he’d bought, that Twilight and Spike had wrapped for him since he’d been bedridden at the time, and made his way through the winding palace corridors to a secluded area of the palace. This was where Celestia and Luna’s private chambers were, as well as where the ambassadors stayed when they visited. Less traffic, almost no tourists, and the guards’ presence all played into the seclusion of the section of the palace.

Marjoram slipped into the study with practised ease, and found he was the last pony there; not surprising given his speed. Marjoram laid down beside Shores on a giant floor cushion that had been donated by seamstresses that had been looking for a warrant from the Crown.

Shores smiled at Marjoram, “We were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it.”

“I made it,” Marjoram replied stiffly, “Don’t worry.”

Shores nudged him playfully, “That’s what I do. Now that everypony’s here, do we want to exchange gifts now?”

Nods and murmurs of agreement sounded around the room. Marjoram used his magic to float the gifts to their respective recipient. Gifts were passed around, and Marjoram was surprised to see everypony except the princesses and Shores all had a sizable pile in front of them.

There was an awkward pause, the silence only broken when Spike cleared his throat.

“Uh...do we open them one at a time? Or all at once?”

“How about everypony opens one gift at a time, we say thank you, and then move on?” Twilight suggested.

“Sounds fair,” Applejack agreed, “Alright, everypony, find a present and let’s get to it!”

Marjoram chose the one closest to him, a sloppily wrapped one that was from Spike. Tearing into it, Marjoram had to smother a loud, inappropriate bout of laughter. Nestled inside the wrapping paper was a plush, large, bacteria. The same bacteria that had infested itself into Marjoram’s lungs. It was less than half the length of his foreleg, and it had beady black eyes. The dark humour that was clearly meant made Marjoram struggle hard not to laugh, choking with the effort.

Marjoram looked to Spike, who was on the other side of the group of ponies, and held the bacterium up with his magic, a crooked grin spreading over his features. Spike smiled back, a huge shit-eating grin that showed Marjoram what he’d hoped: that Spike had hoped to bring out Marjoram’s strange sense of humour.

“Thank you,” Marjoram smirked, moving the bacterium so he could examine it closer.

“I thought you’d like it,” Spike smiled, “I gave the bits to Shores, and she ordered it for me.”

“That was nice of you,” Marjoram looked at Shores, who was examining a bottle of hard apple cider.

“I thought it might make you laugh,” Shores replied, “It wasn’t a problem.”

The chatter from the rest of the room died down, and Twilight spoke again, “Is everypony ready for the next one?” Nods signaled the start of the next unwrapping.

The pattern continued until all the presents had been unwrapped. Marjoram was overwhelmed with the sheer amount of presents he’d received, for he hadn’t thought Twilight’s friends would go through the trouble of getting him anything else so soon after his birthday.

Marjoram had gotten a new pair of boots, a blanket, a trilogy of fantasy novels, a paint set, a book about the Second Pony War he already owned, several books about dark magic, a subscription to a medical journal, and some new test tubes.

Everypony else had similar piles of presents near them, excepting the Princesses and Shores who had been given promises of dresses, barrels of cider, fresh ingredients, and the like from Twilight’s friends.

Shores was going through Spike’s presents with Spike, gushing over the thoughtful things he’d been given. He was smiling so hard that Marjoram figured Spike’s face would be sore before the night was over.

Celestia and Luna looked content; happy in the knowledge that their subjects were happy. Twilight’s friends had different moods that matched their personalities; everything from bursting with joy to a quiet happiness that made them seem softer. It was odd, to see them all so happy at the same time.

Marjoram was jolted from his observations when a cup of apple-smelling hard cider was thrust under his nose. It was a small cup, much smaller than everyponies’ tankards. Marjoram’s eyes met Twilight’s, and Twilight nodded slightly. The message was clear: have a drink, but I’m not risking putting you into a coma.

Judging from the size of the cup, the alcohol was likely to knock Marjoram unconscious less than half an hour after drinking it.

“To new friends!” Twilight spoke, holding her tankard out in front of her with her magic.

“To family!” Shores toasted, holding hers up with a strong hoof.

“To the upcoming year!” Celestia intoned.

With that, everypony took a sip. Marjoram swirled the cider around in his mouth, noting the sweet taste of apple mixed with the burning sensation of the alcohol. He downed the cup in two swallows, setting the fragile porcelain on a table nearby.

Shores moved away from Spike, and nestled back into place beside Marjoram, a smile plastered on her face.

Twilight was chatting excitedly with Celestia, talking to her about lessons she’d learned, how Spike was progressing, and how she was adapting to life in Ponyville. Twilight’s friends were chattering amongst themselves, thanking each other for the presents and telling their own family traditions.

Spike was reading one of the comics Marjoram had bought him, pointing out details and explaining the comic book’s word to Luna. Luna was paying rapt attention, her turquoise eyes wide at the stunning artwork and complexity of the world contained in the pages held in Spike’s claws.

“How are you feeling?” Shores asked suddenly, “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you without some crisis happening.”

“I’m okay,” Marjoram replied, “I feel...about as good as I get. I’m content. I’m happy Spike and Twilight are happy, and you seem to be happy too. That’s important.”

Shores smiled, “Good. How long before the alcohol takes effect?”

“Not much longer,” Marjoram admitted, “Eyes are already feeling heavy.”

“Do you think Princess Celestia would mind if we slept here? It’s been a long time since we’ve spent so much time together-”

Celestia chuckled, “I don’t mind. Anypony who wishes to spend the night here is more than welcome to. I trust you ponies to not make an irreparable mess.”

Twilight giggled, “I’m sure we can manage to not trash your private study, Princess.”

Celestia nodded, “I will transfigure some beds out of the couches and chairs. It will make everything a little more comfortable for everypony.”

Marjoram leaned into Shores, his head feeling clouded over. Shores chuckled, “Don’t fight it. I know you want to sleep. I don’t mind; we can always talk in the morning.”

Marjoram nodded sleepily, nestling down into the soft cushion on the floor. He felt his new blanket being draped over him, and several pillows under his chest to help him breathe. Surrounded by warmth, with Shores pressed comfortably into his side, Marjoram drifted off to the sounds of quiet chatter.

“Is he out?” Twilight asked quietly.

Shores looked up from the sleeping stallion beside her, “Yeah. He’s passed right out.”

“Alcohol really does knock him out,” Rainbow observed, “That was fast.”

Shores nodded, “Yeah. It reacts to something in his tea, I’m not sure what. Since he doesn’t drink, he has no tolerance for it.”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how do you organize such a big kitchen?” Applejack asked suddenly.

“Lot’s of hard work, training and experience. I’ve worked in the kitchens here since I was eighteen,” Shores replied, “I was working in restaurants beforehoof as well, ever since I got my Cutie Mark.”

“That’s fascinatin’,” Applejack replied, “How many ponies can you feed?”

“With enough warning, more than five hundred. That’s with a week’s warning, and all of my kitchen staff. With a day’s warning we can do maybe one hundred. On the average day, working from 5 AM to 10 PM we feed the live-in staff, the guards, the Princesses and their guests, as well as donate leftovers to soup kitchens and the poor, and if there isn’t enough to do that, we usually give the guards extra rations or let the staff take some home for their families. We waste as little as we can.”

“That’s good of you,” Applejack smiled, “We supply apples for the Ponyville/Canterlot region. Maybe you’ve heard of Sweet Apple Acres?”

“It’s your farm that provides the lovely apples? And the cider!? That’s amazing, your product makes my pies the best in Canterlot!”

Applejack beamed, “I’m glad to hear it!”

“How long have you known Marjoram?” Fluttershy asked, “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

“I’d just started working here when he tried to enter Celestia’s school. Once he passed the test-”

“What was his test?” Twilight interrupted, “I know they use different ones all the time, and he won’t tell me.”

Shores tapped her hoof against her chin, brows furrowed in concentration, “I’m not sure. I didn’t know him. Princess? Do you remember?”

“It was to light a candle and keep the flame steady,” Celestia replied, “He nearly set the entire room on fire.”

“Really?” Twilight’s eyes were wide, “What did he do?”

“He didn’t know what he was doing,” Celestia intoned, “He had no training whatsoever, and had only managed to cast a few spells before the test. I just happened to be overlooking the tests when it happened. Marjoram lost control of his magic, and it simply followed his willpower and emotions, none of the intent.”

“Wow,” Fluttershy whispered into her tankard.

Celestia nodded, “Marjoram had amazing raw abilities for his age, he just needed to be schooled. He clearly needed the advanced studies to hone in on controlling his massive amount of magic. In some ways, his magic is very similar to Starswirl the Bearded’s.”

Twilight nodded slowly, “That’s amazing.”

“I’ve been very lucky to have both of you as my students so close together. It’s been centuries since one of my students were able to teach the one after them.”

Twilight smiled, “I’m glad you introduced us. It’s been...very nice to have somepony else who understands.”

“I know. That’s part of why I wanted Marjoram to teach you.”

There was a pause, and Shores took a deep breath.

“Anyway, I met Carnation first. I didn’t meet Marjoram until later. Carnation was a sweet filly; curious and wanted to see everything all at once. She wandered around the palace and got lost, she found the kitchens by accident. I was just starting out, and I got Carnation back to the main foyer. We became friends, and she dragged Marjoram down to the kitchens so he would take a break. It took a while, but eventually he warmed up to me.”

“That’s sweet,” Fluttershy grinned.

Shores nodded, “It was rough sometimes, but I’m glad I met them. Marjoram is like my son, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

Twilight smiled, settling down into her chair, “That’s pretty incredible.”

“It is,” Shores replied, “Sometimes I forget he isn’t actually my child, and I think he sometimes forgets that too.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Applejack stated, “My sister was too young to remember my folks when they passed. Sometimes she forgets that Granny isn’t her mom.”

Shores nodded, “I’m sorry to hear that. At least she has close family like you to support her.”

Applejack nodded, “Yeah. She appreciates us, but she still wonders what having parents is like.”

“Anypony would, I’m sure. It’s something that can’t be helped.”

“My parents are always willing to be parent-y like to everypony they meet!” Pinkie chimed in, “They live on a rock farm, but I’m sure they would be willing to help!”

There was a pause. Applejack smiled, “I’m sure they would, Pinkie. I appreciate it.”

Out of nowhere, Shores chuckled, “I-I’m sorry. This is just absurd. It’s almost Hearth’s Warming! We should be talking about festive things and telling jokes, not about our tragic backstories.”

Applejack snorted, smothering her laughter with a hoof, “You’re right. Anypony know any good jokes?”

“I do! I do!” Pinkie jumped up, “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

There was a pause, lips twitching, Shores shrugged.

“An investigator!” Pinkie collapsed into a bundle of laughter.

Groans, and reluctant laughter sounded around the room.

Marjoram jolted from where he had been sleeping, eyes wide and glazed, “Shores? Wha’ are they laughing at me again?”

“No, Marjoram. They’re just laughing at a joke Carnation told,” Shores soothed, “Go back to sleep. You’re both fine.”

Marjoram looked around, his golden eyes half-closed. He nodded minutely, and made himself comfortable once more. His wheezing, quiet breaths filled the suddenly awkward silence.

“Crazy nightmares?” Rainbow asked.

“Sometimes. Usually alcohol wipes him right out, but he hasn’t been asleep very long yet. That could be it.”

“I could soothe his dreams, if you think he’d be amenable to that,” Luna said quietly, “At least for tonight.”

Shores shook her head, “He’s pretty private...As much as I’d like to say yes, he would be pretty angry.”

Luna shrugged, “I thought I should make an offer.”

“I appreciate it, and I’m sure he would too.”

Luna nodded. She stood up, “I apologize, but I must see to the raising of the moon and stars. Please have a good night, and have a good Hearth’s Warming if I do not see you before you leave.”

A chorus of ‘good night’s, ‘Happy Hearth’s Warming’s, and the like followed Luna out of Celestia’s study.

“Why are you risking everything for these ponies who would willingly watch you wither away to nothing!?” Carnation demanded, stomping her hoof against the tiled floor, “You’re going to get sick, just like the others!”

“I’ll be fine!” Marjoram argued, “I’ll be with Megan and the others! They’ll make sure I take care of myself, I promise! I’ll wash my hooves and wear a mask and everything!”

Carnation rolled her eyes, pinning her ears back in frustration, “That doesn’t change the fact that these unicorns are the same ones who were taunting you just weeks ago, don’t you remember the black eye Violet Star gave you?”

“Of course I do!” Marjoram snapped, stepping closer to stare up at Carnation, “I haven’t forgotten, and I don’t plan to! I want them to know that it was me who saved them. I want them to know that it was me who made the pain go away!”

“Do you really think that will change their minds about you?”

“No, I don’t, I want them to remember me tending to them when they taunt me, to remember me soothing their sick family members when they beat me up!” Marjoram snarled, tears prickling the edges of his eyes, “I want them to feel guilty about what they’re doing!”

Carnation stared at Marjoram for a moment, then sighed, “You’re going to do this with or without my blessing, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Marjoram swallowed, “Megan says I need to get some experience with living ponies before I work with the dead. It’ll help me with my training. Besides, if I help the guardsmen, they might be a little more accepting of your paperwork.”

Carnation’s shoulders slumped, and she nodded reluctantly, “You sneaky bastard. You know just how to get to me, don’t you?”

Marjoram’s grin turned into a smirk, “It’s what I do. I’m you’re brother, remember?”

Carnation nodded, “Fine. Go help Megan and the others. I’ll see if Princess Celestia would like me to do anything. Even if I have to take care of the gardens until the gardeners get better, that will be doing something.”

Marjoram nodded, “Keep yourself busy. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait up. I’ll see you later, sis.”

Carnation smiled, watching with worried eyes as her brother trotted off to go deal with the most virulent plague Canterlot had seen in almost 50 years.

Author's Note

This chapter is 16 pages long, nearly 6000 words long. Obviously, the next half of this chapter is going to be actual Hearth's Warming Eve and stuff. I kept trying to find spots where I could end it, but I just want Hearth's Warming out of the way so I can move forward with what I have planned.

Just so you guys know, canon episodes are still occurring. I might write them, and have them in another story or something, but just imagine what you'd like. Feel free to message me or leave a comment letting me know what episodes you imagine playing out in what ways. Remember: I like hearing from you all.

I hope you enjoyed this massive chapter.

Hearth's Warming Part 2

Hearth’s Warming Prt 2:

Marjoram woke up slowly, feeling warm and content. He opened his eyes blearily, looking around the suspiciously empty study. Shores had left, and Marjoram couldn’t hear anypony else moving around.

Blinking in the sunlight streaming from the window, Marjoram took in the room was still cluttered with beds, presents, and discarded blankets. Did they go to breakfast? Marjoram wondered to himself, trying to get his hooves under him enough so he could stand.

Standing took more effort than he was willing to admit to, but his body seemed to obey his commands. Things were sluggish, his head felt like it wasn’t attached to his body. Marjoram wasn’t hungry, so he bypassed the kitchen, choosing instead to go to the graveyard.

Fresh snow covered the trails, and Marjoram was pleased to note that he was the first pony to be breaking the undisturbed snow. This would mean he would be alone; which was good. He really wanted to talk with Carnation, and he couldn’t do that without looking like he had finally lost his sanity to whomever else was there.

The cold air stung his throat and lungs, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sting. It gave Marjoram’s cloudy head something to focus on beyond his bleary vision and bad balance. Marjoram made his way to the familiar gravestone, and sat down. He didn’t trust his legs to keep him standing for any length of time, not with how shaky he felt.

Marjoram stared at the cold block of marble, and his chest constricted. Not with coughing, or the horrible cobweb like feeling, but with grief. He didn’t want to be talking to a gravestone, unsure whether or not Carnation was even able to hear him in the place that lay beyond death. He wanted to be talking to his sister, his real life sister. He wanted to be able to hear her laugh, and watch her defend Equestria, and so many other things that he’d never get to do again, or never got to experience in the first place.

Very quietly, Marjoram began to explain what had been going on in his life, trying to hold back tears. He explained what had happened with his magic, how terrified he was with the prospect of learning the illegal spells. Finally, he told of the dreams he’d been having; of twisted spires, haunted ponies, and feeling a twisted sense of pride at the suffering of others.

When Marjoram finished explaining the majority of his problems, he sighed, “I don’t know if I can tell this to Twilight, sis. I’m just worried that she’ll try to do everything that she can because of how she is. I just want us to be able to move forward. Maybe the dreams were just because of the dark magic, maybe now they’ll go away. I hope they do.”

There was another pause. Marjoram stared at the simple stone, “I don’t know why I keep coming out here,” he admitted, “I don’t know if you can hear me, I don’t even know if I believe in the Creators, or Faust, or anything else. I don’t know if there’s an afterlife.”

Tears, hot and unwanted, sprung up in the corners of Marjoram’s eyes. He blinked them back, and swallowed the hard lump in his throat, “I just want you to not be dead,” the plea came from a broken voice, and Marjoram knew his wish, however sincere, wouldn’t come true.

Marjoram sat in silence for another minute, trying to get himself back under control, “I don’t think I’m going to stop coming out to talk to you. I know that if you were alive, that you’d want to listen to me. So, I’m not going to stop. It’s nice if I’m down here alone for me to just get everything out without worrying about anypony hearing. Anyway, it’s less than a day until Hearth’s Warming Eve, and just two days until Hearth’s Warming itself. Canterlot is beautiful, as always. Lights are everywhere, and the decorations are already up. Everypony is very excited and happy. Spike is really excited, and Twilight is starting to get excited too. Her friends are leaving today, before noon I think. Twilight will be sad to see them go, but I think it will be good to spend some time with her parents, the Princesses, Spike, and I. I don’t know if Shining is going to make it this year or not, last I’d heard he was with his fiancee, somewhere near the Badlands? Maybe? I’ll have to ask Twilight’s parents; they’ll know.”

Marjoram looked up, and saw that the otherwise cloudless sky was disturbed by one medium-sized cloud, hovering dangerously close to the spires of the castle. Marjoram shook his head, “I’ll have to have a word with the weather ponies, it’s supposed to be clear today.”

Marjoram sighed, leveraging himself to his hooves, “As much as I’d like to stay, I have everypony’s presents to finish. I’ll be back on Hearth’s Warming day, with Shores as usual.”

(LINE BREAK)

Rainbow climbed onto the Friendship Express, her eyes downcast and feeling incredibly guilty. She sat down beside the window, barely noticing Applejack sitting down beside her. Through the window, Rainbow saw Spike and Twilight waving, and Marjoram standing next to them, looking sullen.

The train began to move away from the Canterlot Station, and Rainbow thought back to what she’d witnessed only forty-five minutes before. She had seen Marjoram exiting the castle while putting her luggage with everypony else’s, and thought it was odd for the stallion to be leaving on his own so early.

Rainbow had followed Marjoram out while flying, so not to leave hoofprints in the freshly fallen snow. She had flown behind spires, towers, and the parapets of the castle. She found remains of clouds, and gathered them together to form a cloud just big enough for her to hide on top of.

She floated high enough so that nopony could see her from the ground, but low enough so that she could still hear Marjoram. At first, she’d thought that he’d just been passing through the graveyard, not going to stay. By that time, Rainbow couldn’t move without drawing suspicion to herself, so she stayed. Rainbow heard everything; Marjoram’s fears, the nightmares, his uncertainty in going to Twilight with his fears, his perspective on recent events, everything.

She’d heard his comment about contacting weather ponies, and once he began to move away from the graveyard, Rainbow had stealthily flown back to the castle, and hoped Marjoram didn’t see her leaving. She’d already damaged any potential relationship that could be built between them, and she didn’t want to make it any worse.

Now, she was left feeling like she was carrying a heavy burden, a secret, that she would never be able to share. Rainbow didn’t like that feeling, but planned on never bringing up her rash action to anypony.

Rainbow was drawn out of her thoughts by the excited babble of Pinkie, talking rapidly about what she would do when she got home. Rainbow flung herself into the conversation, hoping that she could distract herself from her guilty conscious.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram spent the majority of the two days before Hearth’s Warming Day painting. It took a lot of work, a lot of frustration, and it caused him to miss out on the Hearth’s Warming Eve play, and most of the Hearth’s Warming Eve feast, but it was worth it. It didn’t matter that there were paint stains in his room that would likely never come out, or that he would likely never regain part of his sanity. Everything was done, and dry, and even though Marjoram wasn’t happy with everything, it was done.

He’d spent the rest of Hearth’s Warming Eve with his family, the ponies he considered to be family anyway. He’d eaten enough to make Shores stop nagging him for four minutes, and had relaxed enough to forget the ring that was strung onto the chain around his neck.

After dinner, the group had retired to Celestia’s study. It had been returned to its former neatness, a fire spilling warmth and light into the room from the far wall. It was cozy, warm, and familiar, made even more so with the presence of his family.

He’d brought the presents up when he’d finished them, knowing that Spike would like to see them before they were opened in the morning. Marjoram watched as Spike opened the one present he was allowed to open on Hearth’s Warming Eve. It was nothing big, but it sated some of Spike’s curiosity and made him even more excited for Hearth’s Warming day.

After Spike opened his present, which was a box of chocolates, Twilight set up the movie projector, and put in her favourite film: A Hearth’s Warming Tale. It was based off of a classic novel by the same name, and Marjoram had been forced to sit through it every year after Twilight had decided she’d prefer to spend the holidays at the castle.

Marjoram had learned to love the film, even though it had been made with the intention of having children see it. Thus, songs, dance numbers, and puppets had been included into the story, as well as a clever narrator who helped explain things.

Marjoram wouldn’t admit it to anypony, but he could sing the songs word for word, practically on command. Most of the script had been memorized too, but it didn’t matter. Watching the film was a tradition, accompanied by snacks, warm hot chocolate, singing, and laughter.

Spike fell asleep during the credits, and Marjoram had to admit that it had been a struggle not to join the young dragon in the realm of dreams. Marjoram made it back to his room, and fell into a peaceful sleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

He was walking the winding, uphill path to Canterlot. Saddlebags floated near his head, held aloft by his magic. The stallion’s features were hidden by a thick cloak, discouraging greetings and conversations. He moved slowly, but with purpose toward the palace.

Soon enough, he disappeared into the palace. In a few hours, the ponies that lived in Canterlot would wish they had stopped him from entering at all.

Unknown to everyone, he was coming back to where he’d grown up; and he was going to kill Princess Celestia on the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration. He would deal her a fatal blow, and using unknown magic, banish her alongside the Mare in the Moon.

The battle between Celestia and Marjoram lasted less than twenty minutes. The outcome of the battle would change Equestria’s future drastically.

Marjoram was the only one to know exactly how, years later.

“Marjoram!”

Marjoram jolted into wakefulness, air caught in in his throat. He coughed harshly, head spinning from the sudden change in position, lungs spasming painfully. Through tired, bleary eyes, Marjoram saw Spike’s concerned face staring up at him from the floor.

Once Marjoram had caught his breath, he looked down at Spike, “Yes?”

“It’s Hearth’s Warming!” Spike said excitedly, clambering onto Marjoram’s bed, “Twilight sent me to get you, since we can’t start without you!”

Marjoram shook his head, and climbed out of bed, wrapping himself in his blanket once he was steady, “Celestia’s study?”

Spike nodded eagerly, slipping his slippers back on, and trotted out of the room. Marjoram followed, noting that the sunlight filtering through the many stained glass windows was early morning.

Marjoram tried to shake the heavy blanket of sleep from his mind, haunted by the sudden knowledge that he had somehow, in some other dimension, killed Celestia. The mental image alone was enough to strike a deep-seated dread in his chest, much viewing it. For once, Marjoram was happy that he hadn’t seen what this ‘other him’ had done.

Marjoram figured some things were better left in the dark.

The first thought Marjoram had when he entered Celestia’s study was: oh thank the Creators; coffee. Shores had already made a pot of coffee, and had a mug held out to Marjoram before he could mutter a greeting.

Sipping at the rich brew, still trying to clear the sleep from his eyes, Marjoram cast a cursory look at the room, and nearly spit out a mouthful of coffee. It looks like Hearth’s Warming threw up in here.

Garish decorations hung from the ceiling and walls. Trains of popcorn, cherries, and homemade decorations wound themselves up bookcases, furniture legs, and around the mantle of the fireplace. Bright colours shone through the stained glass window, making the decorations shine brightly in the multi-hued light.

It made Marjoram’s still asleep brain cry out in pain, sending blurry spots across his vision as he tried to take in the decorations and the pile of presents in the corner.

Twilight was smiling brightly, still dressed in her pyjamas, as was everypony else Marjoram realized belatedly. This was odd, since Twilight was only a morning pony when she had gotten enough sleep and, with the excitement of the biggest holiday on the calendar, that was unlikely.

Celestia looked tired, but that wasn’t very surprising; she’d gone to bed as late as everypony else, and she’d been awake for at least three hours already. Luna, on the other hoof, looked well-rested and cautiously optimistic for the day ahead.

Shores sidled up to Marjoram, a warm smile on her face, “How are you this fine morning?”

Marjoram grunted into his coffee cup, taking another gulp of the hot liquid.

Shores nodded, “Not awake yet, huh? Want some breakfast with your coffee?”

“Maybe in a few minutes,” Marjoram grumbled, “Not awake yet.”

Shores chuckled, watching Spike bounce excitedly on his toes as he waited for Twilight and Princess Celestia to finish an obviously serious conversation. Twilight looked at Spike, and giggled.

“Yes, Spike. If everypony’s ready, we can open presents.”

Spike looked eagerly to everypony else, his big green eyes clearly making his request clear: please be ready.

Marjoram smiled, “I’m good to go. Just keep the coffee coming.”

“Not a problem,” Shores replied, “Celestia here has already drunk an entire pot.”

Celestia glared at Shores, though the slight smile made it clear she wasn’t that angry, “You had to get your caffeine addiction from somewhere,” Twilight said dryly.

Everypony sat down, except for Spike, who was sitting on the flagstones in front of Celestia’s fireplace.

“Alright, Spike. Find a present for everypony, then we’ll open them. We’ll keep going until we finish!”

Spike nodded, and scampered to the pile of presents. Carefully, he picked out presents for everypony, finally picking out a present for himself. Marjoram was happy to note that the present Spike had picked was the one Marjoram had made himself.

Looking at his own present, Marjoram was surprised to see that it was from Princess Luna. Opening it carefully, Marjoram found an old, leather-bound book. It’s cover was gilded with gold and silver, depicting a tall tower that he didn’t recognize. Embossed on the spine of the book, was the title, “The Heartspire”*.

Spike was staring at his present, admiring the painting of a cave full of gems, “This is awesome! Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome,” Marjoram replied, idly flicking through the pages of the book. Parts of it were illustrated, and the pages were old and yellowed. It was beautiful, “Thank you, Princess Luna.”

“We...I...You’re welcome,” Luna sputtered, blushing.

More ‘thank you’s were exchanged, and the process happened all over again.

In all, Marjoram had received an ecosphere from Celestia, a zircon gemstone from Spike, an expensive book of spells from Twilight, and a hoofwritten book of recipes from Shores.

Marjoram had painted Twilight a painting of Canterlot in the light of dawn; Celestia a painting of the Ponyville fountain and Town Square, busy in its midday glory; Luna a painting of the night sky overlooking the Canterlot mountains, just as the sun sank over the peaks; and Shores a painting of herself, smiling at the piece of dough she was working with her hooves.

“This is beautiful!” Shores proclaimed, smiling, eyes lost in the art.

“We like it! Can we commission another!?” Luna asked, her turquoise eyes filled with happy tears.

“This is quite a feat,” Celestia’s wise eyes stared down at the painting, holding it in front of her with her magic.

“I didn’t know you’d gotten this good!” Twilight exclaimed, “Thank you so much!”

Marjoram blushed, looking down at his own pile of presents, “It wasn’t a problem, really. It was fun, and I-”

Shores slung a leg around Marjoram’s neck, “You big softie! I knew you love us!”

Marjoram smiled softly, basking in the love of his family, banishing the cold fear of his dreams.

Author's Note

*The Heartspire is from Cold in Gardez’s Lost Cities. Link here.

So please, let me know what you think!

The Week From Hell Pt1

WARNING: This chapters contain semi-graphic descriptions of death, autopsies, and the like.

The first time Marjoram snuck off into the edge of the Everfree Forest to try casting dark spells, many of which were too illegal to risk casting in the middle of Ponyville, the vestiges of winter still clung to Equestria. Snow still covered the ground, the wind was bitterly cold, and Marjoram wished that he could head back inside the moment he’d left the library.

However, he needed to learn, and this was the only way to put any theories into practice. At least without him potentially hurting anypony or anything. As much as the winter weather didn’t agree with his body, he needed to do this. He needed to begin his studying, to prove to Celestia that he could still do what was expected of him.

Marjoram also needed to prove to himself that he could manage this new magic. For himself, and his family, he would learn to control it and turn it into a tool to be used.

Marjoram had practised for nearly almost forty-five before heading back to the library, shivering with cold and barely able to breathe. Despite the fifteen-minute long lecture he’d received from Twilight after coming back, he still wore a crooked smile.

The second time, just after Winter Wrap Up, Marjoram tried to increase his endurance when using his newfound magic. He lasted an hour and five minutes, and had been forced to sit in a shadow of a tree, too weak to move for nearly another half an hour.

Marjoram hated to admit it to himself, but the illegality of the spells made them so much more interesting to cast. While his knowledge grew, he tried to keep Twilight away from his growing library of ‘dark books’. If she knew what he was doing, everything from scrying to trying to use balefire, would break her heart.

After the second time, Marjoram tried to make it to the Everfree forest at least twice a week, pouring every ounce of effort and energy into testing the theories he came up with, and the theories that had been proposed in his books. Correspondence with Celestia was quick, and concise, always written by Marjoram himself rather than being dictated for Spike.

The last vestiges of winter had fallen overnight, and Marjoram was suddenly flooded with calls from villages and towns around Ponyville; needing his help in trying to determine the causes of death of a dozen ponies. Six had died in a freak carriage accident; one had been found in his home dead, died of some drug that the local hospital couldn’t test for; two had been fished out of a river, one had swallowed a bottle of pills, and two had been murdered in Manehatten. In all cases, the police wanted the autopsies as soon as possible, which forced Marjoram into a week of frenzied work.

(LINE BREAK)

Monday:

Marjoram stared down at the row of bodies lined up to go into his cool storage, wondering why in the wide world of Equestria any of them would have agreed to climb into a two-pony carriage with four others with only one puller.

Sweeping his mane into a bun at the nape of his neck with his magic, Marjoram put on his scrubs, mask and coat. He magically put all of the bodies but one into the cool storage, and pulled out his voice recorder.

“The first victim is female, pale pink coat with purple mane and tail. Cutie Mark is a bunch of music notes surrounded by a quill and piece of parchment. Her family identified her as Peachy Music. I don’t see any major trauma to the body or head, just a few lacerations around the hind left leg near the fetlock.”

Marjoram hooked the recorder to a piece of metal on the ceiling, made for the specific purpose of holding the recorder. Marjoram moved the instrument table closer to the body, and Marjoram used his magic to move the body so it was on its back.

Lifting his scalpel, Marjoram prepared himself for the job ahead.

Nearly an hour later, after having made a good amount of progress, Marjoram heard the front door open. Thankfully, the second door into the room where he actually performed the autopsies had a sign that said he was working-

The door opened before Marjoram could yell he was busy. Marjoram froze, looking up with wide eyes from the body that had been cut into. Blood stained the table, his clothes, and the floor. A large portion of Peachy Music’s ribcage lay beside her so Marjoram could examine the internal organs.

Out of everypony Marjoram expected to just waltz into the room while ignoring the side, Apple Bloom and her two friends weren’t even included on the list. The white one (Rarity’s sister?) burst into tears, and ran out of the room, dry-heaving hard. Apple Bloom’s face had turned green, and she was backing out of the room while trying to simultaneously look at anything other than the gory sight ahead of her.

The orange one, the pegasus, looked as shocked and disgusted as her friends, but her eyes were glued to the sight in front of her.

Lashing out with his magic, Marjoram pushed the fillies out of the room, and slammed the door shut once they were out of harm’s way. Heart pounding, Marjoram cast a stasis spell over the body, and slipped out of all the protective equipment that wasn’t coated in blood.

Racing out of the room, he found the front door standing open on its hinges, a sizable puddle of puke beside the door, and the sight of the three fillies running down the street screaming. Heart sinking into his hooves, Marjoram shut the front door, and retreated into the autopsy room. He locked the door with magic, and hoped nopony else would distract him.

He worked well past midnight, the light streaming from his windows telling anypony who came to vandalize his building that he was still there. He kept one solitary light on, even when he laid down in the cot in his office, trying to slip into sleep that would escape him the entire night.

Tuesday:

Marjoram had been expecting public outcry. He hadn’t expected Applejack breaking down his door at six in the morning, Rarity hot on her heels, and half the population of Ponyville following. For a brief moment, hyper-realistic images of being lynched flashed before his mind’s eye.

Marjoram had been dragged out of the office by force, his mind cloudy and slow from exhaustion and worry. He allowed Applejack to force him through the now-hostile streets of Ponyville, stumbling and coughing as he went. When he was shoved into Town Hall, he hadn’t expected the sight of Twilight, Spike, Apple Bloom and her friends, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash.

Applejack stopped pushing/dragging/carrying Marjoram along, allowing him to collapse to the hardwood floor.

The three girls looked horribly frightened, and looked like they hadn’t slept much during the night. Despite Marjoram’s lack of empathy and caring for ponies, he knew how scarring seeing a dead pony could be for those not prepared, much less walking into an autopsy midway through. He had seen enough ponies break down at the sight of their dead loved ones, especially when the body had been mutilated or damaged before death.

What the girls had witnessed was much worse, made all the worse by the knowledge that Marjoram had been doing it on purpose.

“What happened?” Twilight asked cautiously, her eyes ringed with dark circles. She hadn’t slept either.

Marjoram opened his mouth, now that he had enough air to talk, but Applejack stomped the hardwood floor, cutting him off.

“Damnit, Twilight! We know what happened!”

“We know what the girls told us,” Twilight corrected gently, “They’re traumatized, and scared. They might not have all the information-”

“We saw him cutting up a body!” Rarity’s sister cried, causing Marjoram to wince.

Twilight sighed, “Girls, he’s a mortician-”

“I don’t care what he is!” Applejack exclaimed, “Why was he working with the door open!?”

“I wasn’t,” Marjoram snapped, bringing himself to his hooves so he could look down at Applejack. He preferred to use his height to his advantage if possible,“They had to get through two closed doors. One of which had a sign that said I was working. Everypony knows what I do, I figured I didn’t need to lock the inner door if the sign was up-”

“Clearly you figured wrong!” Rainbow jumped in, catching Marjoram’s attention.

“Clearly,” Marjoram said scathingly, full of self-deprecating dryness, “This is all my fault. I had a sign up, and I know I told Twilight what I would be doing. She tells the rest of you, does she not?”

There was a momentary pause, then reluctant nodding, “Apple Bloom is your sister, isn’t she Applejack? I apologize Rarity, but I don’t know your sister’s name-”

“Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo is-”

“Not related to anypony,” Twilight glared at Rainbow, “She’s very close to Rainbow.”

Marjoram nodded, mentally making a note of that information, “I figured between the six of you, everypony would know to stay away from my workplace. Were these fillies not told what I do for a living?”

Applejack looked at the ground, momentarily ashamed. Then, the anger came back to a boiling point. She got as close to Marjoram as she could craning up to look at him in the eye, “You better not be blaming us for this!”

“I’m not blaming anypony,” Marjoram replied simply, meeting Applejack’s gaze coolly, “I am simply asking questions as to why these girls weren’t warned beforehand-”

“You should lock your doors!” Rarity said, stepping around Applejack so she could be seen, “I thought everypony practising your barbaric work would have learned that after Luna Bay-” Rarity suddenly broke off, her hoof covering her mouth in surprise after her own words.

Marjoram’s shoulders slumped, his eyes wide and momentarily filled with shock. Then, like block of marble, Marjoram stiffened back up. His eyes became like gilt mirrors, showing nothing of his inner thoughts or feelings, only reflecting anything they looked upon. His mouth set into a grim line.

Spike tugged on Twilight’s mane, quietly he asked; “What happened at Luna Bay?”

“It was where Equestria’s School of Mortuary Work was,” Marjoram replied quietly, his voice hollow, “Around thirty-five years ago. Vanhoover called for a ‘necromancer hunt’ and killed everypony there in their panic. Thirty adolescents, ten adults, and several morticians were there when the school was torn down. Nopony knows how many ponies were still alive when it collapsed.”

“It was the last school in Equestria for anything relating to the dead,” Twilight explained, “The ponies suffered from a bad harvest and a drought-”

“That’s enough, Twilight,” Marjoram interrupted, “Clearly, I’m a threat. Something less than everypony else here,” Marjoram’s lips curled into a cruel smile, “Just because of what I do.”

Spike was tugging on Twilight’s mane with more ferocity, while the others seemed mostly speechless. Spike was whispering at Twilight, trying desperately to catch her attention to tell her something.

Marjoram turned his eerie gaze to Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo, who looked confused and worried, “I apologize girls. Some of the blame does rest on my shoulders. You should never have seen something like this, and I apologize for my role in allowing that to happen.”

Marjoram closed his eyes briefly, allowing a touch of his fragility to come to the surface. A moment later, and the vulnerability was gone. Marjoram straightened, and looked everypony in the eye one at a time.

“I suppose this is the end of my stay here in Ponyville?”

“Twilight!” Spike yelled. Everypony turned to look at the little purple dragon.

The room was suddenly silent, other than the heavy breathing of those who had been fighting, and the occasional sob from Sweetie Belle.

“Yes, Spike?” Twilight asked cautiously.

“This is getting out of hoof,” Spike stated, “And it’s not good. Look outside, everypony is staring!”

Looking through one of the open windows revealed that indeed, ponies were crowding around, trying to listen and watch what was going on.

Marjoram looked at the judgemental eyes of the ponies of Ponyville, and nodded, “I agree, Spike. Do you have anything to add.”

“Well...I know you’re really cautious around me and Twilight,” Spike began slowly, “And you clearly didn’t mean for this to happen...Um...can we talk to Mayor Mare? Maybe we can figure something out.”

“What kind of something?” Applejack asked.

“I..uh, I don’t-” Spike sputtered for a moment, then sighed, “Maybe do something in repayment? Like helping them with their treehouse? Or..um paying them something?”

Marjoram blinked, then looked at Applejack and Rarity, “What do you think?”

Rarity looked pensive, and Applejack looked cautiously optimistic. The crowd outside gave out a collective sigh; whether it was of disappointment or relief Marjoram didn’t know, and seemed to disperse.

“Girls? What do you think?” Twilight asked, “Payment or help?”

There was a pause where Marjoram wasn’t sure the girl were even going to accept anything, much less help settle the dispute. Sweetie Belle, who had stopped crying sometime during Spike’s speech, looked to Rarity, then Spike, then Marjoram.

“I-I don’t know,” Sweetie Belle’s voice was hoarse and raspy, made so by all the crying. She turned to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, “Girls?”

Apple Bloom looked up at Marjoram, her eyes tired looking. After a moment, she nodded minutely to herself, “Could you help with the clubhouse?”

Sweetie Belle looked scared again, but after a stern look from Apple Bloom, tried to keep her face in a more neutral mask.

Scootaloo nodded weakly in agreement, “Yeah...sure..Please?”

Marjoram nodded, “Alright then, if that’s what you fillies want. I’ll let Applejack fill me in on the details of where your clubhouse needs. I can meet you tomorrow after school-”

“That’s fine!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, “C-can we go now?”

“You girls head on back home,” Applejack intoned, “Y’all need some rest I reckon.”

“So does everypony else!” Pinkie pie exclaimed, “You guys all look awful!”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, but began to plod out of the room, his head downcast and his eyes half-lidded against the early-morning sun.

What a way to start off the week.

Author's Note

So yeah, this happened...

I wanted to move away from the lighter, fluffier, well-known parts of Equestria.

In the next 2-4 chapters depending on how long each day of the week is, I'll go through what I am calling "The Week From Hell". Lots of smaller plotlines that comingle into a clusterfuck of angsty goodness.

The Luna Bay school was all invented by me, BTW. If you couldn't figure that out.

Anyway, happy reading and I hope to see what you think in the comments! Feel free to PM me, too. I don't bite, honest.

The Week From Hell Pt 2

The Week From Hell Pt 2

Wednesday

After spending the rest of tuesday in the morgue, trying to do as much work as he could before having to go help the girls with their clubhouse, Marjoram had collapsed into bed after almost forty-eight hours of wakefulness and fell asleep.

Wednesday morning, Twilight woke Marjoram up, gave him a sack of bits, his saddlebags, and practically pushed him out the door, her brow drawn in concern and worry. Marjoram wanted to ask what was with the rush, but his brain was still foggy with sleep by the time Twilight had shut the library door.

In spite of himself, Marjoram was hurt at Twilight’s attitude. Did she not forgive him for an honest accident? Did she simply want the whole mess over and done with?

Plodding down the road, Marjoram tried to ignore the stares and sudden hush that seemed to follow his appearance near other ponies. Marjoram grit his teeth and pressed onward, out of town. If he could get the girls’ support, the rest of Ponyville’s population would follow, hopefully.

By the time Marjoram had reached Sweet Apple Acres, his head ached from his lack of caffeine, and he was more awake than he had been when Twilight had shoved him out the door. He saw Applejack outside the house, and he couldn’t help but feel mildly intimidated. That mare could be scary when she wanted to be, her attitude becoming more like Rainbow Dash’s if provoked.

Marjoram didn’t want to hurt Twilight, so he would do his best to keep his snarkiness in check. Though that would be a tall order if Marjoram didn’t get his hooves on something heavily caffeinated soon.

Applejack seemed more calm than she had been the day before, but Marjoram couldn’t be sure. He stared at her, blinking at the harsh sunlight that seemed intent on making the caffeine headache worse.

“Coffee?” Applejack asked bluntly.

“Please.”

Applejack beckoned for Marjoram to follow her into the house. Granny Smith and Big Mac weren’t present, but Apple Bloom and her friends were.

Applejack gestured for Marjoram to sit, and poured him a cup of coffee, “Alright girls, so, what do you want to do with the clubhouse?”

“Fix it,” Scootaloo replied dryly, “You leaned into a wall and it collapsed.”

“Well Apple Bloom here is mighty good at fixing things up and making them pretty,” Applejack smiled, pouring Marjoram another cup when he finished the first.

“So we need building supplies, paint…” Apple Bloom tapped her chin with a hoof, mouth pursed in thought, “Decorations, furniture…”

As the list grew, Marjoram began to wonder if it wouldn’t have been easier to simply give the girls a large amount of money and be done with it.

“So,” Sweetie Belle began, her voice shrill with uncertainty, “What can you help us with?”

Marjoram watched as four pairs of eyes swiveled to meet his gaze. Marjoram blinked, sighed, and found the bag of coins in his saddlebags. He plopped it onto the table, much to the surprise of the others.

“I’ll pay for everything. I can steady things with my magic and help in any ways you girls need.”

Apple Bloom nodded slowly, “Um...okay...How are we gonna do this?”

“Do what?” Applejack asked.

“We need to get the supplies, which we can carry with Scootaloo’s wagon,” Sweetie Belle explained, “And with...uhm,” Sweetie Belle looked to Apple Bloom, clearly unsure.

“Marjoram’s sick,” Scootaloo said bluntly, “and it’s a long way back into town.”

Marjoram shrugged, pushing the bag of bits over to the girls, “I trust you girls to spend this wisely. Just show me the treehouse, and I can get started with cleanup of the original structure.”

“Seriously?” Applejack looked amazed, “All that money?!”

“Yes,” Marjoram replied flatly, “I have no knowledge of building supplies and furniture. As far as I know it could cost a small fortune to make all this stuff work.”

Applejack shook her head, “It shouldn’t, really. This is too much.”

“No, it’s not enough,” Marjoram replied quietly. He shook his head, downing the last of his coffee, “Let’s go. Show me where the clubhouse is so I can get started.”

Applejack and Apple Bloom shared a look; and once Applejack nodded, the girls stood up and escorted Marjoram out of the house.

This is going to be a long morning. Marjoram had to bite back a groan.

Later

Marjoram stared up at the dilapidated building, little more than a shack, wondering where he was supposed to start. The girls had gone off into town to buy what they thought they needed while Marjoram was supposed to get started on cleanup.

Sighing, Marjoram took off his saddlebags, and began to feel around the edges of the building with his magic. The foundation seemed stable, though some boards were loose. Crumbling walls, a sagging roof, and the fact that one wall had collapsed into the room made Marjoram reluctant to approach the building.

Using his magic, Marjoram began to pull apart the wreckage, hoping with every iota of his being that the whole thing wouldn’t collapse around him.

(LINE BREAK)

When Scootaloo crested the final hill in front of the clubhouse, she was surprised to find a pile of discarded material waiting to be thrown away beside the remains of the clubhouse. Little much beyond the frame and foundation was left standing, though parts of it were missing.

Marjoram was sitting in some shade, eyes shut, his horn emitting a gross, blackish magic. There was a water puddle at his hooves, but he stopped doing whatever he was doing as the girls pulled up.

“How’d it go?” Marjoram asked.

“We still need more stuff,” Scootaloo replied flatly, watching with interest as the building materials floated out of her wagon and piled neatly beside Marjoram.

“I’m going to need a hoof getting everything started again-”

“Apple Bloom, you can build and paint. You can help while Sweetie and I get the rest of the stuff!”

Apple Bloom was pushed out of the wagon, and left to choke on dust as Scootaloo flapped her small wings and zoomed away. Apple Bloom took off her helmet and sighed, looking at Marjoram, then the clubhouse.

Marjoram sighed, “No point delaying. Let’s just get all of this done and over with.”

Apple Bloom nodded in agreement, “What do you need me to do?”

“I can hold things steady if you can hammer them into place,” Marjoram replied, hoofing over a hammer and a bucket of nails.

“I can do that,” Apple Bloom replied, taking the bucket and hammer into her mouth, “Big Ma’ ta’t me!”

Marjoram nodded, “Good. Because I don’t know how.”

Apple Bloom put the bucket down, “Really!?”

Marjoram shrugged, “I’m a historian, a mortician, a researcher. I am not a pony of labour, and I don’t desire to become one. I am not fond of physical labour, since I can’t do much with my illness. Anyway, we’ll start with the foundation. Get going.”

Apple Bloom nodded, picked up a few nails and the hammer, and positioned herself near the glowing beam. With Marjoram’s assistance, the foundation was stabilized and repaired, before they moved onto the frame of the clubhouse.

“So...how long have you been a mortician?” Apple Bloom asked suddenly.

“Since I was seventeen. I trained for a long time before that.”

“So...you saw,” Apple Bloom swallowed nervously, “stuff like we saw you doing since you were a colt?”

“No. I didn’t even see a body until I was much older than you three,” Marjoram replied, not meeting Apple Bloom’s gaze, “You shouldn’t have seen what you saw.”

A high-pitched, awkward chuckle escaped Apple Bloom, once she’d moved onto another board, “I think we learned to knock.”

Marjoram winced, and didn’t reply. Apple Bloom looked up from her work to see him looking pointedly at anything other than herself.

“I..uh, I don’t know if this helps, but I don’t really blame you. I know you feel bad about what happened.”

There was a beat of silence. And if Apple Bloom had begun to hammer the nail into place a second earlier, she would have missed Marjoram’s reply:

A very soft, heartfelt, “Thank you.”

(LINE BREAK)

Sweetie Belle was pleased with the decorations and furniture she and Scootaloo had picked out. Everything was relatively cheap, sturdy, and perfect for three small fillies.

Sweetie Belle had thought that Apple Bloom and Marjoram would have steadied the structure, and repaired rotted boards. She hadn’t expected them to have the walls up, floor down, and working on the roof.

Marjoram had a magical field under Apple Bloom, clearly keeping her aloft. At the same time, he was holding shingles steady while Apple Bloom nailed them into place. As Scootaloo crested the hill, coming to a stop, Sweetie Belle watched as Marjoram floated Apple Bloom over, the magic leaving the section of the roof they had completed. It stayed.

“You guys got everything!?” Apple Bloom called down, setting the hammer down onto the golden platform that she stood on.

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle called back, “It’s all super awesome, Apple Bloom! You’ll love it!”

Apple Bloom beamed down at her friends, “That’s awesome!”

“Apple Bloom!” Marjoram called, “I hate to remind you, but-”

Apple Bloom scooped up the hammer with her mouth, “I kn’w! H’rry u’!”

Now they were closer, Sweetie Belle could see the sweat coating Marjoram’s body. His sides were heaving, his legs shaking, and his face was pinched with exhaustion. Clearly, the magic required was rather extensive.

Less than twenty minutes later, Apple Bloom was lowered to the repaired deck of the clubhouse, beaming, “See girls! Look how awesome it looks!”

“It looks brown,” Scootaloo deadpanned.

“We have to paint it, silly!” Sweetie Belle shook her head in exasperation.

“I know that! I just thought it would be...fancier,” Scootaloo shot a pointed look in Marjoram’s direction.

Marjoram, for the most part, seemed to be ignoring them. He had sat down, and was clearly trying to catch his breath. He looked exhausted, and didn’t seem to notice or care about what was going on around him.

“So, what’s next?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Apple Bloom shrugged, “Well...we can paint. Two inside, two outside. Then we can switch. I’ll paint out here with Scootaloo, Sweetie! You and Marjoram go paint inside-”

“What colours are going where?” Scootaloo asked.

“Well, we aren’t really painting the inside,” Sweetie Belle stated, “More like staining the wood. The outside is this awesome brown, orange-y pink shade.”

Marjoram blinked, trying to imagine the described shade and coming up short. He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. He levered himself to his hooves, and made his way up the ramp to where the clubhouse rested in the tree.

Sweetie Belle picked out some brushes and the can of wood stainer, and hurried after the stallion, glaring at Apple Bloom as she did so.

Sweetie Belle didn’t necessarily blame Marjoram for what happened, but she also knew that he hadn’t tried to stop them and hadn’t tried to chase after them to make sure they were okay. Sweetie Belle wasn’t sure what to think of Marjoram, and as such, didn’t really trust him.

Marjoram’s golden magic took the can and one of the paint brushes. The lid popped off, and the can was set down beside the nearest wall, “Here. Let’s get this started. I’ll start here, you start there. Get as high as you can, and I can get whatever you can’t reach.”

Sweetie nodded, dipping the brush into the can. Marjoram did the same, and the pair began to work.

Some time later, when Sweetie Belle’s jaw ached from holding the brush for such a long time, she set the brush down, and looked over to Marjoram, who looked better than he’d had outside.

“How long were you at school?” Sweetie Belle blurted.

“I attended school for most of my life before I turned fifteen. After that, it didn’t matter very much. In the years following my eighteenth birthday, I’ve attended many lectures held by Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns, and completed a few courses. It’s hard to say, really.”

“Wow.”

Marjoram shrugged, “I lived less than ten minutes away from the facilities most of the lectures were held. It was just tricky trying to get there with work, Twilight, Spike, and my illness. Sometimes, Celestia would tape a lecture for me so I could watch it if I was too busy or sick to attend.”

“That’s nice of her,” Sweetie said quietly, clearly a little in awe at the mention of the princess.

“She’s a very kind pony.”

Sweetie nodded, moving her jaw to try to stretch the aches out of it, “Have you known the princess for a long time?”

“Since I was younger than you. Did I miss a spot over here? Can you tell?”

“Bottom left corner,” Sweetie pointed with a hoof, “Right there. Have you lived in Canterlot your whole life?”

“Not my entire life, but close enough.”

“Do you have any family?”

“A half-brother. Everypony else I’m related to by blood is long dead.”

Sweetie blinked, wincing at Marjoram’s hard expression, “Sorry,” she squeaked, “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Marjoram said softly, “There, how about now?”

“You got it. Are you going to get over here?” Sweetie pointed at the upper section of the wall she’d been staining, where she couldn’t reach.

“Yes. Can you get started on another wall? No point wasting time.”

Sweetie Belle nodded, fetching her brush even though her jaw still felt achy. There was a beat of silence, then:

“Do you live with your parents?” Marjoram asked.

“Sometimes, but my parents live really far away from any big towns,” Sweetie put down the brush, thankful for the reprieve, “‘Ponyville has better opportunities’. That’s what they always say. That’s why Rarity is here too, because of Carousel Boutique. It wouldn’t do well where we’re from.”

Marjoram nodded, “Interesting.”

“Not really. Where my parents live is super boring. There’s never anything to do, and nopony to talk to my age,” Sweetie kicked idly at the wooden floor, “I miss them a lot, but I’m always miserable when I go back.”

“They must love you too, then,” Marjoram replied without thinking, “Sending you here, even if it means being away from them. They care for you enough to try to give you the best life they can.”

There was a pause, and Marjoram turned around to find Sweetie Belle staring at him, her eyes welling with tears. Marjoram’s eyes went wide, and his magic flickered, almost dropping the brush. He recovered quickly, then swallowed, “Was that wrong for me to say?”

Sweetie shook her head, galloping over, and wrapping her front legs around his own legs, since Marjoram was too tall for her to reach anything else, “Thank you!”

Marjoram froze, stiff and unresponsive, “You’re welcome?”

Sweetie let go, smiling through her tears. She went back to work, her mind already working on a new song.

“Are we done yet!?” Scootaloo asked, reaching up as high as she could so she could paint the top of the door, her voice muffled by the roller she held in between her teeth.

“Nope!” Apple Bloom replied, “Not even halfway.”

Scootaloo let out a heart wrenching moan, “I don’t think we’re gonna be done by the end of the day, and I don’t think everypony will let us miss out on another day of school.”

“Probably not,” Apple Bloom agreed.

“Are we switching yet!?” Sweetie called from inside the clubhouse.

“Let me finish the door!” Scootaloo called out, “then we can swap!”

“Okay!” Sweetie called back.

Scootaloo looked over at Apple Bloom, and froze at the inquisitive look her friend was giving her, “What?”

“You haven’t spent any time with Marjoram today, have you?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Erhm...no. Why?”

Apple Bloom smiled, a wicked grin that made Scootaloo’s spine shiver. Scootaloo suddenly knew she was doomed. She set down her paintbrush, and sighed, “What are you planning?”

“We still have to get the podium, right? Why don’t you take Marjoram with you?”

Scootaloo sighed, “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!”

“You done with the door yet?!” Sweetie asked.

“Yes!” Scootaloo answered, “Just be careful with it! Paint’s still wet!”

Sweetie emerged from the clubhouse first, stretching her jaw to ease tension she felt. Then Marjoram exited, squinting at the late afternoon sun.

“Scootaloo needs to go get some furniture from town,” Apple Bloom said brightly, “Would you mind going with her, Marjoram?”

Marjoram blinked, “Sure, I suppose...but I don’t know if I could make it into town and all the way back-”

“You could ride in Scootaloo’s wagon! It’s big enough!”

Marjoram grimaced, “No can do, girls. I get motion sick. I’d be lucky not to puke all over the wagon, or the contents. Or the road,” Marjoram looked like he could continue, but stopped himself before he got into more details.

Scootaloo’s face scrunched up in disgust, “Yeah. That would be gross.”

“I thought you’d rather not take me with you if you knew I was going to puke.”

“Thanks for that,” Scootaloo returned dryly.

Marjoram shrugged, “So...is she going alone?”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle shared a look, and without any obvious communication, the pair darted for where the wagon and the scooter were parked. Apple Bloom grabbed the handle of the wagon, while Sweetie Belle’s magic flared, releasing the wagon from the harness that attached it to the scooter.

After less than a minute, the pair were running down the dirt path, leaving Marjoram and Scootaloo to stand awkwardly on the deck of the clubhouse, staring at each other.

“That was rude,” Marjoram said finally.

Scootaloo nodded, “Yup.”

“So...want to get back to work?”

“Not really, but we should anyway.”

Marjoram nodded, “Outside or inside?”

“Inside first. That way we can lay a beating down on them when they come back!”

“Sounds good. Let’s get started.”

Moving to opposite sides of the clubhouse, the pair began to stain the sections of the walls that hadn’t been stained previously. From where Scootaloo was working, she could see Marjoram’s magic flicker briefly before steadying again.

“Are you okay?”

“Just tired. I’ll be fine.”

Scootaloo nodded, her mouth occupied with the task of holding the paintbrush. An uncomfortable silence reigned, making Scootaloo feel like a weight was being slowly lowered onto her chest, cutting off the oxygen.

“I-I don’t think you’re a bad stallion,” Scootaloo said, spitting out the paintbrush, “I know we messed up by not knocking, but I also think you should have locked your door from the beginning,” Scootaloo took a deep breath, “That being said, though, I don’t think you’re a bad pony.”

Marjoram blinked, his magic faltering for a moment again. A small, crooked smile spread across his lips, “Thank you.”

Scootaloo nodded, but paused before she picked up the toothbrush, “I’m never going to repeat this.”

“I didn’t expect you too,” Marjoram replied quickly, the smile twisting into a wry version of itself, “I don’t expect a thrill-seeking filly like you to damage your reputation.”

Scootaloo felt like she was being insulted in some way, but she couldn’t begin to guess how. She nodded once, picked up the brush, and got to work again.

(LINE BREAK)

It was well after nine-thirty that night when Marjoram made his way back into Ponyville proper. His horn, and head, ached from overuse of magic, and a potent mixture of emotions were swirling in his chest from the interactions he’d held with the three fillies.

Marjoram highly doubted any of them would be considered friends in the near future, but they seemed to not hate him; something that was always a bonus in his books.

Marjoram looked up, at the gorgeous night sky, and wondered how the ancient ponies of one-thousand years previous could have shunned such beauty. He remembered the skies Celestia had created, and while they had been pretty, none had reached the level of complexity and beauty that Luna had been able to create.

Feeling good about himself, despite his exhaustion, Marjoram hurried back into town as quickly as his body would allow. Hopefully, he could get back to the library, and catch a few hours of sleep before having to finish the last of the autopsies-

Marjoram stopped, freezing in the middle of the empty street, just passed his morgue. Blinking, and backing up, Marjoram shot a small ball of light at the morgue, and his heart plummeted into the very depths of Tartarus.

The newly repaired door was smashed, shattered glass laying inside and outside of the building. Marjoram crept forward, easing the door open cautiously. His sensitive eyes, and eager brain rushed to fill in the details of the darkened room.

His filing cabinets were overturned, loose papers scattered the floor. His desk was split down the middle, probably by a heavy blow. Ink had spread across the carpet, and the papers that lay on top of it. Quills, thankfully mundane, were snapped and had been burnt. Moving into the next room, where his equipment was, Marjoram was relieved to find the majority of the equipment was fine; simply scattered all over the floor.

Marjoram turned, back towards his office, and his lost concentration on the orb illuminating what was suppose to be his space. Even though he couldn’t see the word painted over the door leading into his office, the sight of the garish red paint was burnt into his memory:

Necromancer.

Author's Note

So this ended up being way longer than anticipated, but I'm kinda proud of the results. I'm already working on the next chapter, have plans for the rest of this arc, and am working on a special surprise for this story that's coming soon.

So yeah. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to hear from you guys! Happy reading.

Week From Hell Finale

The Week From Hell Pt 3

A bit of gore in this chapter, be warned.

Thursday

Thursday morning was spent by letting the police do their work. Marjoram sat on the stairs to his morgue, sipping a hot cup of tea, watching with tired eyes as the police earth ponies and unicorns went about doing their work.

Twilight was with him, thankfully, her violet eyes looking just as angry as Marjoram felt defeated. She watched the police work, and glared at anypony who stopped to whisper at the sight of the police examining the morgue.

Twilight figured they all found it a good thing, that the mortician was being investigated or some such thing. Only the ponies who had trashed the place would likely know anything differently, and for the most part, this section of Town Square was less busy than usual.

The police cleared the place by noon, allowing the repair ponies to come in and do their work. The windows and doors were fixed, and the carpet of Marjoram’s office was deep-cleaned, as well as the wall reading necromancer.

Wisely, nopony made any comments. At least while Twilight and Marjoram were in hearing range.

After that, Marjoram and Twilight moved out the broken furniture, saving what paperwork that they could. They ordered new furniture, and locked up the morgue as tightly as possible.

Marjoram was dead on his feet, and the defeat in his eyes spoke more than his stiff body language did.

Twilight sighed, “It’s really been a bad week so far, hasn’t it?”

“Wasn’t all bad,” Marjoram croaked, “Building the clubhouse wasn’t bad.”

Twilight nodded, “Fair enough. I’m-I’m sorry this happened. I never thought anything like this could happen in Ponyville-”

“Even after what happened to Zecora for Creator’s know how long?”

That stopped Twilight mid sputter. She hung her head, her ears pressed back into her skull miserably, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Especially not after Zecora. I sometimes forget this isn’t like Canterlot.”

“I know,” Marjoram whispered, “I forgot that, too. Until yesterday.”

Twilight smiled reassuringly, “I’m sure things will settle again soon.”

Marjoram nodded weakly, his eyes half-lidded because of exhaustion. He opened his mouth, as if to reply, and was cut off by a violent sneeze. His eyes widened, and he looked at Twilight in sudden horror.

“It’s spring.”

“And?”

“Canterlot has the anti-pollen wards.”

“So? It’s been spring for weeks, and you were out all yesterday-” Twilight interrupted herself, “and you’ve been living in Canterlot all your life. Until yesterday night, your body was still protected. After spending all of yesterday outside, plus not sleeping at all last night, and the shock-”

“My stupid immune system kicked into full gear,” Marjoram replied miserably, “I’m spending the rest of the week inside the library.”

“I’ll cast a few anti-pollen wards on the library,” Twilight said.

“Thanks.”

“Go get some sleep. I’ll make you some more tea, and we’ll have soup or something.”

Marjoram nodded, “Thank you.”

Twilight smiled, “Not a problem. Now go get some rest.”

Marjoram nodded, and plodded into the library. He descended into his basement, and flopped onto the bed. He got himself comfortable, propping up his chest with several pillows to help him breathe. He put the stuffed dog Spike had got him under his chin. Pulling his blanket over himself, Marjoram did his best to try to breathe through his clogged nose, phlegmier than usual lungs, and a pounding head.

It took a long time, but Marjoram must have eventually dropped off. When he next opened his eyes, he had expected an empty room, but that wasn’t what was in front of him. Rarity sat in a chair, flipping through a fashion magazine.

Marjoram let out an ungentlemanly like groan, struggling to prop himself up. His eyes felt swollen, and grit made it difficult to see. He felt infinitely worse than when he had fallen asleep, his whole body pulsating with pain and discomfort. Rarity looked up, her blue eyes meeting Marjoram’s dull gold ones.

“I see you’re awake.”

Marjoram nodded, immediately regretting the action when the room swam out of focus. Marjoram rested again, trying to focus through throbbing eyes at Rarity.

“Sweetie Belle told me what you told her; about our parents loving her very much to send her here.”

Marjoram froze, recalling his words, “Was I wrong?” Was that his voice? It sounded worse than usual; which usually took quite a lot of coughing, not just a nap.

Rarity paused, staring at Marjoram with cool eyes, “I know you meant well, but you barely know me, don’t know Sweetie Belle at all, and haven’t even seen my parents, much less met them yourself. Before you get too worried, my parents aren’t horrible ponies. They are kind, and love Sweetie and I dearly. However, Sweetie wasn’t exactly...planned. My parents hadn’t expected a child so late in life, especially when I was in the process of moving out and trying to make a name for myself here. They love Sweetie, they really do, but they’ve left her here for mostly selfish reasons. Without her with them, they can spend their early retirement doing things they want to do, and not have to worry about dragging her along with them. They pay me a small sum every month, which I’ve been putting into a fund for Sweetie ever since they started sending me it. While I agree that Ponyville is a much better choice for schooling; my parents were born here in town. They only moved out to the backwater village before they realized my mother was pregnant.”

Marjoram’s dizzy mind spun even faster, making him thankful he hadn’t had anything to eat recently, “I-uh-”

“I have no need for your pity, or an expression of your sorrow, or anything else. This arrangement works out better for everypony, Sweetie most of all. That’s who’s important in this matter: Sweetie Belle. I would appreciate it if you don’t mention our parents, or this talk, to Sweetie again. I don’t want her getting any more hurt than she already is.”

Marjoram inclined his head in a nod, being careful so not to upset his oversensitive head, “I understand. I...apologize.”

Rarity offered a small smile, “I know you were only trying to help, and help Sweetie Belle move past the recent fiasco. Thank you for that. Now, Twilight told me to get her when you awoke. Twilight will be down in a few minutes I expect.”

Rarity left, bringing the magazine with her. Marjoram was struck dumb, his overtired, ill mind trying to process what Rarity had just told him. Filing her speech away to comprehend later, Marjoram got himself comfortable once more, content to quietly wait for Twilight to arrive.

Soon enough, the door opening and closing, as well as the sound of hoofsteps on the stairs made Twilight’s presence known. She came bearing allergy medicine and soup, which churned Marjoram’s stomach.

“Here you go. Hopefully you’ll feel better after the medicine kicks in.”

“Unlikely,” Marjoram croaked, “Allergies are a pain.”

Twilight sighed, “I’ll do some research, see if there are any spells that can help. I’ve cast a few wards on the library, so do your best to get rid of the allergens in your lungs and nose, alright? I’ll be back in a bit for the tray and the empty bowl.”

Marjoram could feel the unsaid threat about what would happen to him if Twilight came back to find he hadn’t eaten anything. Offering a sarcastic smile, Marjoram watched as Twilight disappeared upstairs again.

Today sucks. Maybe we should all go somewhere once this is all done.

Friday

Marjoram woke up after a fitful night, feeling marginally better, but not hopeful for the day ahead. If the last four days had proven anything; it was that the next three would be horrible. Marjoram sat on the edge of his bed, hoping that if he could plan his day, he would avert disaster.

Marjoram had to ensure the new furniture was where it was supposed to be, ward the morgue so future destruction would be kept at a minimum, and work on the last autopsy he had left. Then, he would come back to the library, and cook dinner. If Marjoram couldn’t cook dinner, he was supposed to make breakfast for everypony the following morning.

Marjoram sighed, getting to his hooves. There was no point delaying the inevitable. Bypassing breakfast, Marjoram managed to get out of the library while Twilight was busy trying to cook for Spike and talk to Pinkie at the same time.

The furniture arrived without a hitch, and the moving ponies were happy to stay until everything was arranged in the way Marjoram wanted it to be. Marjoram paid them, adding a generous tip for their help. Once they were gone, Marjoram retreated into his workroom, content to see the mess cleaned and gone.

Just one more autopsy. Just one more, then I can go home and read the new Daring Do book with Twilight and Spike. Spaghetti and wheatballs or something for dinner. Something Neightalian.

Marjoram opened the only occupied cooler in his morgue and was hit with the stench of decay, a rush of warm air, and a sudden urge to puke.

Most scents related to his job were things that Marjoram was used to, but this was advanced decay, in a warm room, for at least forty-eight hours, presumably without a stasis spell in at least that long either.

Dreading to look, Marjoram peered around the corner to find the plug that connected the coolers to the power they needed was unplugged. Marjoram sighed, levitated the body out, trying not to think too much about the rotting, and set it on the table. I’ll just tell the police that the vandals unplugged it. No way to know if it was them or the police up here. Ugh.

Marjoram prepared himself, dressing in a mask, gloves, scrubs, and a lab coat. He pulled his hair back into a bun, and got ready to work. Just as he was leaning over the body, scalpel held in his magical grasp, the swollen abdomen of the body exploded.

Marjoram closed his eyes reflexively, just in time to avoid getting rotting flesh, tissue, and blood in them. The gore was cool, room temperature, and sticky. Unwilling to open his eyes, mouth, or even breathe, Marjoram dropped the scalpel onto the table, and stumbled to the emergency shower. He punched the button with blind aim, and hit true.

A powerful, cold spray rained down, soaking Marjoram in seconds. He angled his head up a little, eyes still squeezed shut. The gore was rinsed away, and Marjoram finally felt comfortable opening his eyes. He wished he hadn’t. The workroom was spattered with gore, his lab coat was ruined, and he would smell like he’d died until he could get back to the library and shower.

As much as Marjoram wanted to go home, and wash everything off properly with soap, the showerhead was enchanted to release sterile, disinfecting water, onto the pony who pressed the button. He needed to stay and finish the autopsy to the best of his ability, and finish the report before he finally gave up on the day. After that, the rest of Equestria could fall into Tartarus for all he cared.

For now, Marjoram would stand under the cold spray, and internally scream at the universe at large.

(LINE BREAK)

Twilight was shocked when Marjoram dragged himself into the library, mane dripping wet, shivering, and smelling like he’d died several days ago. Twilight put down her book, “Do I want to know?”

“Nope. I’m sorry,Twilight, but I’m done with today. I’m going to have a shower, drink some tea, and snuggle into bed.”

Twilight nodded, “Hungry?”

Marjoram shook his head, “Nauseous. Don’t even open the door to tell me dinner’s ready.”

“Okay. Have a good night.”

Marjoram winced at the words, trotting quickly into the bathroom, and shutting the door. Twilight sighed, and returned to her book, hoping that he would be alright.

Saturday

Marjoram stared into the pan that was on the stovetop, eyes rapidly filling with frustrated tears. What was supposed to be eggs, resembled some burnt offering to a cruel god. The smell of burnt food had burned away all other smells that could be smelt in the library.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think this week is be cursed or something,” Marjoram stated to no one in particular. Twilight and Spike were still asleep, though it was likely they wouldn’t remain so for much longer. Not with the smells of such burnt food permeating through the library.

Dumping the mess into the garbage, Marjoram contemplated what to do next. It was unlikely that he would burn something so spectacularly again, but with how the week had gone Marjoram would expect it to happen. Sighing, Marjoram turned off the stove, wrote Twilight and Spike a note, grabbed some bits, and left the library.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t cook it, something from Sugarcube Corner would be better than nothing. Marjoram moved through the streets of Ponyville like a stallion haunted; cautiously, head and ears swiveling so he wouldn’t trip and break his neck or something else that would be ridiculously possible during this apparent week from Tartarus.

Marjoram made it to Sugarcube Corner unscathed. Pinkie was at the counter, ringing up somepony’s order. When she saw Marjoram, she brightened considerably.

“Hi, Marjoram! Do you need something for Twilight? Oh, is Twilight okay, since you don’t usually come here! Do I need to plan a party so Twilight can get better again!?”-

“She’s fine. I’m just here to get some breakfast for all of us. For-”

“You’re getting breakfast because you’ve had horrible luck this week. I’m sorry about the burnt eggs, I’m sure they would have been good if you made them on Monday! Anyway, do you want Twilight and Spike’s usual orders for when they get breakfast? What about you, you haven’t come here for breakfast, so I don’t know what you like!”

Marjoram’s head was spinning, “Did you see me making eggs? How?!-”

Pinkie shrugged, “A lucky guess, I guess. Anyway, what would you like?”

“Spike and TWilight’s usual for them. Um,” Marjoram looked around for a menu somewhere, and spotted none. A bit of fear bubbled into his chest, but he pushed past it and pressed on, “I have no idea for me...What do you recommend?”

Pinkie swelled, a huge smile distorting her features, “I’m so glad you asked me that! I like the muffins, but they’re in the ovens right now being baked. I like cherry chungas, and churros, but we don’t even make them yet. I really like cake, but you don’t eat much so that won’t be a good idea-”

Marjoram felt a headache coming on, “Short version of whatever this is, please.”

A timer rang from the back, Pinkie jumped away from the counter, “Gottagetthatberightback!”

Before Marjoram had a chance to blink, Pinkie was back, her smile even bigger than it had been, “Those were the cheese croissants. Do you want two of those!?”

“Please.”

“Okay, go sit down. I’ll bring everything over when I’m done packing them in bags for you to bring back to the library.”

Marjoram plodded to a table that was in a corner, away from everypony else. Though he hadn’t realized it when he had been talking to Pinkie, he could feel everypony else’s eyes on him. Please let them be rational and not act on any stupid impulses. Please let them be rational and not attack me in the early morning. Please let me get my food and get back in one peace. I promise I’ll stay in the library for all of tommorrow, please oh please oh please-

“Here you go! That’ll be fifteen bits please!”

Marjoram counted out the bits, and gave Pinkie five more, “For a tip. Have a good day, Pinkie.”

“You too, even though this week has sucked. I’m sure everything’ll only get better!” With that, Pinkie bounced back into the kitchen, out of sight.

Marjoram sighed, putting the bits into the bag of food. With his magic, he carried the bag just behind his head, noting that everypony was still staring. Thinking back, Marjoram began to count to ten in different languages in his head. Hopefully he wouldn’t say anything mean if somepony started anything.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Chairs scraped back, just as Marjoram shut the bottom half of the door behind him. He picked up the pace, hoping the early spring morning air wouldn’t try to clog his lungs until he got to the library.

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix. He could hear ponies behind him, and Marjoram refused to look. He kept his pace quick, but tried to keep himself relaxed. I’m on a brisk morning stroll, trying to get back home to my family. If you kind gentlemen would kindly buck off that would be great.

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sech, sieben, acht, nuen, zehn. A hoof jabbed into Marjoram’s left flank. Marjoram briefly shut his eyes, trying to remember whatever words he could from whatever languages he knew, not caring if they were mixed together or wrong-

“What do you have in the bag? Something for some spell?”

“Breakfast,” Marjoram replied, not looking behind him. He didn’t need to know how many ponies were behind him. There was more than two, less than ten judging from the hoofbeats, “For my family and I.”

“You’re related to the dragon?” The male pony clearly conveyed how disgusting he thought it was to be related to Spike. It made Marjoram bristle, but he swallowed his anger.

“I’m not by blood. I helped raise him, so the term ‘friend’ doesn’t adequately describe our relationship.”

There was a moment of silent, and another hoof jab, more hurried and clumsy. Marjoram hadn’t realized it, but he’d sped up during the ‘discussion’. Now, he was on the edge of Town Square. Hopefully, hopefully he could make it to the library. Thankfully, his long legs were giving him a slight advantage over whoever was following him.

“That’s weird. I’ve never met a dragon before.”

“Spike certainly is one of a kind. If you’ll excuse me, Twilight and Spike must be getting hungry. I should get going.”

“Oh, can’t you stay out here and chat,” The voice sounded a little out of breath now, and Marjoram had practically stopped breathing himself. Just a little longer. Halfway there, past the fountain, and I’ll be home free.

“Sorry. Busy today. Reshelving day, I think...was what...Twilight said.”

“That sounds exciting,” the tone the pony used spelled out that he viewed it as anything but.

“It is...for us.”

“No ritual sacrifices today?”

Marjoram remembered, faded words of Megen’s warnings. Some ponies never learn the difference between mortician and necromancer. Beware these ponies; for their kind brought down the school around my ears.

“Never planned any, really. I’m not a necromancer.”

An out of breath snort. Marjoram caught sight of the library. He sped up once again, feeling faint and severely out of breath. Marjoram all but flat out sprinted for the door, his mind swirling. Were any of them unicorns? Could he call out for help loud enough for Twilight and/or Spike to hear? If they couldn’t, would anypony else bother to help him?

Marjoram opened the library door, and galloped through it, shutting it just as the pony who had been talking to him tried to gain entry. The lock slid shut as the pony rammed into the thick wooden door head first.

“Let us in!” A different voice called, “This is a public building!”

“It’s...reshelving...day! Closed to...the public!” Marjoram called back, collapsing onto the plush carpet. Thankfully, the food was safe, and so was he.

There was a bit of grumbling from the other side of the door, but by the time Marjoram’s heart rate and breathing had gone down, they had left. Marjoram slumped against the door, breathing shallowly and evenly.

I need to get out of Ponyville for a while. They’re seriously thinking about hurting a fellow pony. I need to tell the Princess, see if she can do something-

“Marjoram! There you are! Are you okay? You look pretty winded. Take too long of a walk trying to get breakfast?” Twilight asked, sipping a cup of coffee from where she could see him from the kitchn.

Marjoram debated what to tell her for a split second while he was getting his hooves under him. He decided on the truth while he gave Twilight her breakfast, set Spike’s out, and grabbed his croissants. Nestled in the bottom of the bag was a note, and a chocolate chip muffin.

Hi Marjoram!

I’m sorry about what those meanie-heads are going to try to do. I know you’ll get back to the library safe and sound though, so don’t worry. I hope this muffin helps make your crappy day turn into a slightly less crappy day.

Pinkie

Marjoram sighed, setting the note down and fishing out the muffin, “I’m going downstairs. Call if you need help with anything.”

Twilight nodded, still processing what Marjoram had told her, “Should we tell somepony?”

“I’m going to write a letter to the Princesses. See if they can’t do something about it. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold!” Marjoram scolded before slipping back downstairs.

Twilight sighed, taking a bite out of her danish. Let’s hope the rest of the day isn’t so bad.

Marjoram, meanwhile, had picked up The Heartspire, the book Princess Luna had given him for Hearth’s Warming. He’d flipped through it, not really reading it because he’d been too busy trying not to puke because of the train. Marjoram flopped onto his bed, made himself comfortable, and began to read.

That was what he did the rest of the day, reading about a far away ruin of unicorn civilization.

Sunday

Marjoram had woken up, hoping that after Sunday, that all the bad luck that had been chasing him would leave. Marjoram was tired, grumpy, and done. He wanted the week to be done and over with, and if he could have slept through it, he would have.

Instead, he was actually helping Twilight reshelve the library. For the third time in three weeks. This is getting ridiculous. I know I can be anal, but three times in as many weeks!?

Spike was off reading A Tale of Two Kitties for his Literature lesson of the week. Thankfully, he was nowhere near Marjoram when one of the bookshelves tipped over from being unbalanced.

Marjoram had been sorting through books a meter or so away from the base of the shelf, shelving them in the way Twilight wanted them as he went. Unfortunately, he was facing the opposite direction of the bookshelf when it fell. All he had as warning was a gasp, and a resounding pain in his head, neck, back, and shoulders.

When Marjoram woke up in the Ponyville Hospital with several bruises, a possible concussion, and a black eye, he knew it was time to leave Ponyville and go explore the Heartspire.

Author's Note

So, the next chapter of this story, will actually be part of a stand alone story. This is because I will be writing about the Heartspire, from Cold in Gardez's story Lost Cities. When I'm complete writing that piece of writing, I'll go back to writing the next arc of the main storyline: which will be an adaption of Suited For Success. We're getting to the end of S1 folks, hold onto your hats.

When I'm done writing the Heartspire, I'll post a link to it in this author's note. I'll also probably write a blog post about it, so just keep an eye out if you are so interested.

Don't hesitate to tell me what you liked, didn't like, or any suggestions you may have. Trust me, I love talking to people about ideas and stuff. So yeah, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and keep an eye out for Exploring the Lost Cities. It should be posted soon.

The first chapter of Exploring is up! Please check it out here.

A New Twist

“I’m not going to the spa. You can’t make me.”

“You’ve been worrying yourself sick. C’mon. It’ll be fun!”

“No.”

“I’ll pay you fifty bits.”

“I don’t need the money.”

Twilight brought a hoof to her chin, her muzzle contorting in thought. Her eyes brightened, “I’ll write to Shores and tell her you’ve been neglecting yourself.”

Marjoram sighed, “You are a cruel, cruel mare.”

Twilight smirked, “I know. Now, let’s go. I’ve got reservations for us.”

“What about Spike?” Marjoram protested weakly.

“He’s helping Pinkie with some new cupcake recipes. We’re fine for an afternoon. Let’s go. We both know Shore’s will be here as soon as she hears about you not sleeping for four days-”

“Alright! I get it. Lead the way,” Marjoram gestured toward the door, irritation evident in his tone of voice and body language.

Twilight smiled, “Will do! Let’s go!”

Marjoram rolled his eyes once Twilight was turned away. He followed reluctantly, not willing to do what Twilight wanted him to do. Plodding along beside Twilight, Marjoram tried to remember how far away from the center of Ponyville the spa was. He remembered hearing Twilight and her friends talking about it before, but he couldn’t remember anypony mentioning distance and travel times.

“So, what are you going to do when we get there?”

“I have no idea. You’re the one that usually goes there.”

“Well I know you don’t want any massages or anything. Maybe a nice time in the sauna, then get our hooves done. You’ve been complaining your left hind hoof has been pretty chipped lately. You can get it fixed.”

“I could fix it myself you know.”

“Yes, well you’ll be spending time with me. C’mon. Have a sit in the sauna, get our hooves done, maybe get your mane brushed out professionally.”

Marjoram glared, “Nopony is touching my mane but me. You should know that by now.”

Twilight chuckled, “I always hope you’ll get it trimmed a little. Isn’t it getting a little long?”

“It is magnificent, and you know it.”

“I never said it wasn’t, but it’s gotta be a right pain to deal with that’s all.”

Marjoram shrugged, “Not really-”

“Don’t lie to me. It’s past your shoulders now, and with how wavy it is it’s gotta be longer than it looks.”

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I cut it all off.”

“Use it to make a wig?”

Marjoram looked at the sky for a moment, wondering briefly if he could manage to roll his eyes right out of his head and onto the cobblestones under his hooves. Twilight chuckled again, “Come on! This won’t be that bad.”

“You’re the one that likes massages and stuff.”

“Have you even had a massage?”

Marjoram shook his head, shuddering a little at the thought, “I don’t want strangers touching me.”

Twilight sighed, “I can’t force you into doing anything you don’t want to do, so I shouldn’t complain. Not if you’re coming with me anyway.”

“I don’t want to come with you.”

“Well, you’re stuck with me now!””

“Ugh.”

“Don’t ‘ugh’ me. What’s rule 47?”

“Don’t be an asshole?”

“No that’s rule 14. Try again.”

“Hmm. Oh it’s one of the rules I made up when you were 15 isn’t it?”

“What is it, then!?”

“Try new things.”

“There we go! Following this rule would be a good plan. C’mon!”

Marjoram sighed, “Maker-damn it. Should’ve rescinded some of those.”

“Too late!” Twilight sing-songed, smiling brightly.

Marjoram sighed, “Nothing too invasive.”

“Don’t worry, Aloe and Lotus are really good at their jobs. Just let them know when you’re not comfortable, and they’ll stop.”

“I’m not comfortable even thinking about it.”

Twilight’s smile dimmed a little, “When was the last time you did anything new?”

“Other than move to Ponyville, try this friendship thing, change my entire life to suit your new lifestyle, and take up painting and drawing again?”

Twilight blinked, “You’re not upset about moving to Ponyville are you?”

Marjoram raised an eyebrow, “Did you not see me the first few weeks we were here? I was very angry. Not so much, now. I just miss Shores and Celestia.”

Twilight smiled reassuringly, “I know. I miss them too.”

There was several beats of silence before Marjoram broke it it, “What about your parents?”

Twilight blinked, her steps hitching for a moment, “I...I love my parents, but...they don’t understand my powers, or my intellect. They try, but I always end up saying things that are so out of their league that they can’t say anything.”

Marjoram nodded, before a smirk bloomed across his mouth, “I had some instances like that with Carnation. It got so awkward, so often that she started telling me about guard stuff, or gardening or stuff I didn’t know much about. She returned the favour.”

“My parents don’t do that. They just...stare awkwardly. It’s so uncomfortable.”

“You should write to them. Relationships aren’t a one-way street you know. I’m sure they love you very much.”

“I know they do...it’s just that it’s so awkward. No wonder Shining Armour doesn’t come home.”

“Your brother is a military stallion on the frontier. He doesn’t have much of a choice.”

Twilight nodded slowly, sighing, “I know. It just makes it worse because we all miss him.”

“You have to try with your parents, Twilight. You’ll regret it later if you don’t.”

Twilight side-eyed Marjoram, seeing a hint of regret in his tired eyes, “I know. Will you help me with a letter when we get back?”

“Of course I will. I’m not a complete monster.”

“Than why is Nightmare Night your favourite holiday, not Hearth’s Warming?” The tone of teasing returned to Twilight’s voice.

“How much longer to the spa?” Marjoram asked reluctantly, not willing to answer the question.

“Not long, it’s to the right, and down the lane to the very end. Past the residences.”

Marjoram nodded, eyes downcast as he mulled something over.

Twilight sighed, “I don’t suppose you would like to get coffee after?”

“After the torture session? Why not. Creators know I’ll probably need the boost of caffeine.”

“Have you been to any of the doctors here in Ponyville yet?”

“Other than the Ponyville Hospital? No.”

“You should go get checkups and stuff from here. Might be easier than trying to get to Canterlot in an emergency.”

Marjoram sighed, “I suppose so. I’ve been meaning to get my eyes checked recently. Can’t hurt to get to know some of the doctors here.”

Twilight smiled, “Well, we can schedule an appointment soon. Oh look, there it is! Is that Fluttershy?”

Before Marjoram could say anything, Twilight had cantered ahead toward the spa and her potential friend.

Marjoram sighed, picking up the pace a little, inwardly cringing a little at the realization that it was Fluttershy ahead. Marjoram took a deep breath, steeling himself for several hours of uncomfortable conversation and held tongues.

Fluttershy was likely a very kind mare, but Marjoram wasn’t sure if he would always be able to hold his tongue around somepony so anxious.

“Oh, hey Marjoram,” Fluttershy whispered.

Marjoram forced a smile, and realized it likely turned into a grimace, “Hello.”

“I didn’t realize you guys came to the spa.”

“We usually don’t,” Twilight shot Marjoram a look, and Marjoram stuttered, “But-um. We decided to treat ourselves?”

Twilight looked incredulous. Clearly even she didn’t buy it. Apparently, Fluttershy did buy it, or she was polite enough not to comment.

“Rarity and I usually come here every week, to catch up. Rarity does it more for the maintenance and beauty aspect of it I think. I just like to chat more than anything else. It’s always a pleasure to spend time with friends…even if I don’t need the pampering. N-not that I think Rarity does, but...oh,” Fluttershy’s face pinched with anxiety. She stammered for a moment, before finishing lamely, “Spending time together is...nice.”

Twilight looked at Marjoram with a smug smirk, as if to say see? Marjoram wanted to turn tail and leave. However, he held his ground. As much as he didn’t care what Twilight’s friends thought about him, he did care about what they thought about his relationship with Twilight.

“Would you mind if we joined you?” Twilight asked, “We probably won’t be here as long as you and Rarity, but it would still be nice to spend some time together.”

“Of course! Tonight I’m going to look after the Cutie Mark Crusaders, to give Rarity and Applejack a break so they can get some work done.”

“That’s nice of you!” Twilight replied, “Later tonight, I’m going to go meet with Zecora to discuss our recent experiment ideas at her house!”

“That sounds...nice. What about you, Marjoram?”

“I’m just probably going to read with Spike. Maybe play cards. It’ll be a nice, quiet night.”

Fluttershy smiled, “That’s good.”

“Let’s go inside now. Is Rarity in there already?”

“Probably. She usually goes in early to make sure they have our usual spots open.”

“I’m sorry we kept you, then Fluttershy.”

“It’s not a problem, really. Oh look, there she is waiting for me. Hello, Rarity!”

“Hello, darling! And Twilight and Marjoram too. What a surprise! Will you be joining Fluttershy and I today?”

“If you guys don’t mind, we’d like to. Though we probably won’t stay as long as you girls might. We have some things to get to later today.”

“So do we, darling, but you need to take the time to relax every so often.”

“The planning Zecora and I are thinking of doing is going to be quite extensive, so I’ll likely lose track of time! Oh, I’m so excited-”

A door opened, and Marjoram looked to see two mares that clearly worked at the spa, if the name-tags were anything to go by.

“Ooh! Miss Rarity, you’ve brought some new friends with you today, how lovely. Are we doing your usual?” A mare exited the reception area, her thick accent making it clear that she was from Germaneigh most likely.

“Yes please, Aloe. This is Twilight Sparkle and her friend Marjoram.”

Aloe’s blue eyes lit up at the sight of Marjoram’s mane, “Oh, good sir, I love your mane. What products do you use, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I have a leave-in conditioner,” Marjoram replied slowly, “It helps. From Canterlot, though the brand name is escaping me.”

“Well, the next time you’re visiting us, please remember to tell us. We here at the Ponyville Spa like to keep our products useful and affordable.”

“Of course,” Marjoram replied, a little unsure.

“Are you treating your friends here to your usual, Miss?” Aloe switched to Rarity, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course I will! Let’s go everypony, we don’t want to hog the sauna to ourselves for too too long.”

Marjoram followed, picking out a fluffy white robe and some towels for his mane. He was led into a sauna, where he sat in an uncomfortably warm room, and sweated in the robe. He noted Rarity’s robe was clearly unique to the store, embroidered with a cursive R on the flank.

As much as Marjoram hated to admit it, the steam was nice to his lungs, allowing him to breathe relatively freely.

The next stage of the process was a little more weird. Aloe, her sister Lotus Blossom, and several other employees applied a thick green mask to Marjoram’s face, resting cucumbers over his eyes. While he listened to the girls’ idle chatter, Marjoram tried to listen to what was going on around him, his ears swiveling to catch all the noise. He was blind as he laid on a cushy platform, uncomfortable with the sense deprivation. He nearly teleported himself back to Canterlot when he heard a horrible rasping sound accompanied the feeling as if someone was taking a rasp to his horn.

“I apologize, sir. I’m just evening up your horn spirals that’s all. Would you like me to stop?”

“Yes please,” Marjoram replied tersely, trying to keep the unease building in his chest down to a minimum.

A few minutes later, after listening to Rarity and Twilight get their own horns filed, Marjoram was led to another room. He laid upon a cushy table, and tried not to have a panic attack while a stranger was trying to ease the tension in his ill-treated body. After several tense minutes, the stranger went away, leaving Marjoram to relax under a thick blanket.

Just when Marjoram was beginning to fall asleep, Aloe’s voice jolted him severely awake.

“I’m going to take the mask off of you now. There will be some pulling sensations.”

The cucumbers were removed, and Aloe used a tool clutched in her mouth to get the mask away from his face. Once this was done with everypony else, the group was led into yet another room. There, Marjoram was given more cucumbers for his eyes, which he internally chuckled at. It didn’t matter how many beauty treatments that were used, whether they were correct or not, Marjoram would always have tired eyes.

“How are you enjoying yourselves?”

Marjoram had to bite his tongue from answering Rarity truthfully, “I liked the sauna.”

“That’s excellent, dear. It’s always lovely to go for a good steam!”

“Thank you for this.”

“It’s not a problem! You and Twilight are my friends, so I feel it’s only right to treat you all every now and again.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know. We can pay for ourselves.”

“Nonsense! I’ve got it this time, everypony. Don’t you worry.”

“Thank you,” Twilight and Marjoram replied in near unison.

Fluttershy looked between the two of them, a small smile on her face, “I-I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how long have you two known each other?”

“Ten years and a bit, I think. I was what, nine?”

“I'm pretty sure you were nine- yes you were nine! Celestia helped your parents pull off that surprise party for your tenth!”

“That’s a long time to know somepony,” Rarity chimed in.

“That and I lived in the castle for most of that time, even with schooling technically over, I still needed tutoring.”

“Yeah, only thing we didn’t do with you was socialize you.”

“That would have required you to socialize too.”

“I know, that’s why I resisted Celestia’s attempts.”

“Seriously?”

“Other than a few ponies that you exchanged notes with in classes, you refused to talk to anypony that wasn’t your family, or ponies living in the palace. It didn’t take much arguing on my part, actually. I’m surprised Celestia didn’t fight harder.”

“Why is that surprising?” Rarity asked, holding a hoof out so Lotus Blossom could shape her hoof properly.

“She tried very hard with me. Made me attend some social events. Made sure I was introduced to different ponies of all ages, hoping some would stick I guess. I was a lost cause, really. That’s why I tried to argue so adamantly against her getting you socialized for a while

“Huh. Is that why Celestia didn’t push me into going to Moondancer’s party?”

“Probably,” Marjoram replied, trying very hard not to remove the cucumbers over his eyes, “I suppose she figured we would work it out on our own.”

There was an awkward pause, which was broken when Rarity tentatively asked, “Did you two ever meet any of the fashion icons in Canterlot?”

Marjoram wracked his brain, turning up empty, “Maybe? I don’t really know much about fashion to say yes or no.”

“I think I saw Photo Finish once, she was photographing the castle gardens. I’m sorry, Rarity, but I have no idea if I’ve seen anypony else,” Twilight’s voice held true sorrow.

“Celestia would know them, I’m sure. You could write her a letter, set up a private audience so she can see your work, and I’m sure she’d be willing to introduce you,” Marjoram ventured.

“Really?!” Marjoram lifted the slices of cucumber from his eyes to find Rarity standing uncomfortably close. Jerking back reflexively, Marjoram could only nod.

Rarity squealed, “This might be the breakthrough I need! I could save enough to open a boutique in Canterlot, and send Sweetie Belle to an amazing apprenticeship! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!”

“I-I can’t guarantee anything. I just suggested it as a possibility!”

“Still, even if Princess Celestia doesn’t enjoy my work, others will hear I got an audience with the Princess herself! Even if it isn’t the best case scenario, this could help me greatly!”

“Well-”

“Not tonight. I have too big an order to fill, even for an opportunity like this. Would you help me write the letter tomorrow?”

“Sure?” Marjoram wasn’t sure what else to say, not with Rarity standing only centimeters away.

Another squeal, “I’m so excited! Thank you so much!”

Rarity flounced back to her place, almost as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all. The only thing that hinted at her excitement was her sudden restlessness; as if she couldn’t wait to be done with the day ahead.

Marjoram blinked at the mare in quiet shock. He wasn’t sure he remembered being so excited for anything in his life. Shaking his head, Marjoram caught a sly smile on Twilight’s face before she smothered it with a happy smile. Glaring, Marjoram replaced the cucumbers over his eyes.

The rest of the day was accompanied by an awful ball of anxiety in his stomach. Marjoram couldn’t figure out the cause.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram lay in his bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept, had barely been able to close his eyes at all. Sighing irritably, Marjoram got out of bed and made his way into the library.

Pausing briefly at the top of the stairs, Marjoram’s overtired brain tried to piece together what he wanted to do.

Breakfast was out if he could help it. He wasn’t nauseous, but he didn’t want to chance anything either. Wracking his brain, trying to ignore the burning of his eyes, Marjoram’s gaze landed on one of his dark magic books, heavily warded against anypony reading it other than him. To the eyes of anypony else, it would appear to be a book about simple herbs.

It’s been awhile since I’ve practiced. Subconsciously, Marjoram brought a hoof to where the ring hung from its chain against his chest. Screw it, let’s do it. Levitating the book and his cloak, he made his way to the Everfree Forest.

Getting his cloak fastened properly, Marjoram squinted at the rising sun. Flipping through the pages of his book, Marjoram’s hooves guided him to where he needed to go; a secluded clearing at the edge of the forest. The cool breeze made him shiver, drawing his cloak tighter.

Leaving the road, trying to find what he wanted, Marjoram found his way to the clearing. As he was going to flip to the chapter he’d been practicing, his eye focused on a neglected chapter he’d been skimming through mindlessly.

The Ancient Art of Necromancy.

Marjoram’s heart skipped a beat, remembering his early attempts at quelling his grief; bringing Carnation back to life. Heart hammering in his chest, Marjoram began to read in earnest, having to squint hard at the small letters in the early morning light.

To even begin trying, Marjoram would need to teach himself to see the energy that permeated every single living thing and connected them to each other. He would need to see the life and light that was in every organic, living thing.

Stopping for a moment, his common sense caught up with him. I’m not a necromancer!

A little voice niggled in the back of his head: you’re just a failed one. Why not teach ponies everything that could be rediscovered?

Squeezing his eyes shut, Marjoram let the book hit the dewy grass under hoof. Gritting his teeth, Marjoram shook his head, “I can’t. They don’t want to know how healing could be improved-”

They don’t know. They would change their mind when they see how they could be saved.

Slowly opening his eyes, Marjoram stared at the discarded book; seeing it for what it was amidst his internal argument. A simple, black cover, with silver lettering. Much larger than the average book, but looking plain as if to deceive it’s reader. An Introductory Guide to the Dark Arts.

Marjoram needed to learn dark magic, and Celestia hadn’t been strict with what she’d wanted him to learn. Breathing as deeply as he could, Marjoram levitated the book to himself, and opened it again. Flipping to the chapter about necromancy, Marjoram began to read.

Energy is the building block of life. Energy allows life, light, movement, and all of ponykind to flourish. Something many ponies look down upon, is the presence of entropy. Entropy is much more common than energy, since many things upon this planet do not live. Energy is like order, always highly structured and highly dependent on one another, while entropy is disorder. Entropy creates the balance necessary to make life possible. Without either extreme, we could not live in the balance between these natural orders.

Ponies live, sicken, and die. Sometimes before they are born, sometimes not until they see decades pass, and a lot of times somewhere in between. Using the properties of entropy and energy, a novice necromancer can learn to see the life force that makes everypony live; the careful balance between life and death that many don’t know exist.

Marjoram sighed, rubbing his eyes. Entropy and energy usually corresponded with physics, something that was Twilight’s expertise-

Marjoram’s ears twitched toward a harsh, growling sound. Dropping the book again, Marjoram wheeled around to find himself only feet away from timberwolves. It isn’t timberwolf season yet, they should still be hibernating for another couple of weeks, until the end of summer, what?

Snarling, the leader strode forward, crouched low so it could pounce when ready.

Heart hammering in his chest, Marjoram’s mind went blank the same time his knees weakened. He was very, suddenly aware of a full bladder, and he wasn’t ready to die yet-

The leader sprung forward, the others springing around from all sides of the clearing to surprise him. Marjoram may not have known what to do, but his magic did. Shields sprung into place, stopping the wolves temporarily. One had even been going so fast, that it’s magical aura had been disturbed and it’s body had crumbled into sticks, leaves, and logs until it could regenerate it’s magical field.

Breathe. Marjoram inhaled sharply, his breath tearing at his throat. Five more. Won’t be long before the sixth one is back up. Shields won’t stay for forever, and nopony knows I’m here. What to do, what to do-

Marjoram flinched as the leader tried lunging forward again, only to meet the magic of the shield. The gold wavered for a moment, but remained strong. It wouldn’t remain so for long, not with all the other shields going at once.

Marjoram’s eye caught the far edge of the clearing. Without stopping to think, he dropped the shields, and teleported to the edge. Hopefully, with no warning, the wolves would have lunged at each other. Taking the time, Marjoram began to gallop through the trees that separated him from Ponyville, teleporting a few more times in an effort to not lead the wolves into the village.

Thankfully, his teleportations seemingly worked. Coming to a screeching halt at the edge of Ponyville proper, Marjoram eyed the path to the forest with wide eyes. Panting for breath, coughing harshly, Marjoram’s whole body was shaking from adrenaline. Heartbeat slowing, Marjoram was thankful to notice his cloak was alright, even if he’d left the book behind in the clearing.

Coughing harshly, Marjoram teleported himself to the entrance of the library, stumbling through the door. If he thought he’d been tired before, it was nothing compared to this. Listlessly making his way to his room, Marjoram had only the forethought to hang his cloak up on the back of his chair before he collapsed onto his bed.

Snuggling into warm blankets, chest elevated so he could breathe a little easier, Marjoram fell asleep almost immediately.

Marjoram awoke to chaos upstairs. Thundering hoofsteps, shouting, yelling, and...Spike crying? Marjoram had only known Spike to cry when he was very desperately sad, scared, or anxious. Head fuzzy, limbs not ready to cooperate yet, Marjoram stumbled his way upstairs.

Bleary-eyed, still mostly asleep, and worrying already, Marjoram burst into the library proper. He almost lost his balance and fell back down the stairs, but his legs steadied him. Which was good, because his mind was in shock. His heart was racing again, and he couldn’t breathe.

Spike was sitting down, sobbing hard. Twilight’s friends were arguing loudly, Applejack pacing. Fluttershy was practically hiding behind Rarity, who seemed to be angrily telling off an equally irate Rainbow Dash.

Marjoram’s eyes barely passed over those ponies, however. His whole focus was on the stone statue in the center of the argument. It was eerily lifelike, and he knew instantly that some kind of magic was involved.

In fact, he could feel Twilight’s magic radiating from the statue. Venturing closer, Marjoram rounded the room, and his heart dropped into his hooves. The argument stilled, and Marjoram was left in sudden silence.

It wasn’t just a statue, not with the magic pouring from it. Swallowing dryly, Marjoram stopped so he stood only inches away from the statue’s lifeless eyes. Twilight, somehow, had been turned into a lifeless hunk of statuary.

Her face was twisted in horror. Lifeless stone eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets. Marjoram couldn't help but notice Twilight’s hackles were raised.

Marjoram stumbled back a few paces, sitting down hard. He came to a sudden realization:

I don’t know how to fix this.

Author's Note

I know this isn't quite what I promised, but I promise that Suited for Success is coming soon, probably right after the coming event. I've planted the seeds, let's see if I can get them to grow properly.

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Thanks again to Elsaack who is always willing to put up with my weird questions and stuff. And for Beta-reading this chapter.

Statue

Day Four.

The princesses haven't been able to contact anyone who can help. Beyond somehow convincing the cockatrice to release its magic, there are no known cures for its petrification. As I conduct my experiments and write this down, Fluttershy and the others are off in the forest trying to catch the cockatrice that did this. Even Zecora has joined the search, and Celestia and Luna have sent a few of their guard to help as well.

I still don’t quite know what to do, but I’ve got some idea of what I shouldn’t be doing. I-I’m lost if I’m being honest. But, I’m making some progress. I know Twilight is still alive in there, somehow. She’s in a form of stasis, at least. Her magic is only detectable because it’s such a strong part of her identity. I think that in her last few conscious moments, her magic reacted and tried to do something-anything-it could. Personally, I think it’s a form of distress beacon; since everypony nearby can feel it on some level.

Twilight would be much more able to do this than I am. I understand the magical theory well enough, but I don’t have the mathematics skill to do the proper calculations. Thankfully, Doctor Whooves has been able to help me. I’ll have to pay him for his trouble, as I’ve called on him a lot.

Zecora has been invaluable as well. She knows where the cockatrices may be, and her knowledge of the forest has benefited the others. Her expertise in ‘non-traditional’ magics has helped as well. So far, we’ve had more theories and possible solutions than anypony else faced with this problem.

Rarity has been a surprising asset, too. As well as a night guard Luna sent to help. Using a small piece of what was Twilight’s tail, they can match the signature of the cockatrice’s curse with the right individual. On a side note, Rarity has promised to take Twilight to the spa so they can fix any damage left by chipping away that small piece.

If they can find the cockatrice this would make things much simpler.

Marjoram leaned away from his journal, rubbing his burning eyes with a foreleg. Squinting at the clock, Marjoram came to the sudden realization that it was almost four AM. He remembered Spike’s threats about him getting some sleep, and sighed reluctantly.

Looking over equations he couldn’t understand wouldn’t help. Looking over his magical theory was useless without having someone more awake with him. Rising onto stiff legs, Marjoram jerkily made his way to the couch. Sore, aching muscles protested the movement after staying still for so long. Marjoram ignored his physical misery, collapsing onto the prepared bed Spike had set up for him on the comfortable sofa.

Spike, true to his ways, was fast asleep in his basket. A comic book splayed open over his chest, and his reading lamp still on. With a quiet click, Marjoram turned it off. Snuggling into the blankets, Marjoram nestled himself into the soft cushions. In spite of his exhaustion, it took him a while to fall asleep.

(LINE BREAK)

Spike awoke to the front door bursting open, and an accompanying flurry of movement and sound. Jerking into a semi-seated position, noting that Marjoram had awoken as well, he realized Twilight’s friends, several of the night guard, and one day guard were hauling in a terrifying looking creature.

Roughly, it’s upper half looked like a chicken. Kind of. It was as if a chicken had had an unfortunate gene-splicing accident with a lizard. Ragged feathers poked through rough skin, patchy and uneven. There was no denying it for what it was though, since it’s head was that of a chicken. The head was the only ‘normal’ part of the beast, if you could call it anything remotely close to that. The rest of it was a horrible mishmash of feathery, leathery, smelly awfulness. Somehow they had managed to blindfold the creature so it couldn’t petrify anyone else.

Marjoram stumbled to his hooves, a tangle of legs and blankets. He fell to the floor before picking himself back up and was at Fluttershy’s side in an instant.

“What’s wrong?”

“He won’t listen to me!” Fluttershy said tearfully, watching with a horrified expression as the animal was shoved into an already-prepared cage, “I don’t understand. He just keeps refusing to talk!”

“If he’s from deeper in the Everfree it’s only likely. Thank you for trying Fluttershy. You’re sure this is the one?”

“Yes, darling,” Rarity said, sitting down breathlessly, her mane barely out of place, “I tested it, and Lt. Sunshine did as well.”

“Good. If you want to leave him here with me, I’ll see what I can do. Thank you all, I’ll keep you updated.”

“After all that, you want us to just leave!?” Rainbow exclaimed.

Marjoram sighed, “Sorry...Two of you could sleep in Twilight’s bed. Another two on the spare bed. One of the couches folds out, so that’s two more. Lt. Sunshine, are you-”

“I need to be back in Canterlot. I just wanted to ensure the cockatrice’s safe arrival. I’ll tell Princess Luna and Princess Celestia that we’ve caught the right creature.”

“Thank you,” Spike blurted out, “For your help.”

“It’s my job.” A soft smile played on the edges of Sunshine’s muzzle. Turning, he unfurled his bat-like wings, and glided out the door.

Marjoram sighed, shutting the door, “There’s some spare linens in the closet beside Twilight’s room. Make yourselves at home, everypony, but do try to be quiet. I need to think.”

“Should I get Doctor Whooves?”

“No. I’ll be alright for now. Go back to bed. I’ll go through the manuscripts again, see if there’s anything we can offer before it starts not even acknowledging Fluttershy’s talent-”

“What do you mean?”

“Fluttershy’s talent lets her communicates with animals. The cockatrice can hear her, and understand what she wants. It’s just not interested in communication. If it’s stubborn and intelligent enough, Fluttershy won’t be able to communicate with it at all against it’s will. She won’t even be able to try.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It isn’t,” Fluttershy whispered, “It doesn’t happen often, but some creatures don’t like me at all. Like Bluefeather’s cat. She won’t even let me try to help any more.”

“This is too complicated after this many hours awake,” Rainbow yawned, “I’m going to bed.”

“I must agree. We’ll talk after some much needed beauty sleep,” Rarity said primly.

Applejack yawned so hard her jaw cracked, “Good luck, Marjoram. Let us know if anything changes.”

“I will. I promise. Now go to bed. You girls deserve some rest.”

Grumbling, with various degrees of exhaustion, the girls made their way to the beds. Spike reluctantly curled back into his basket, and was soon snoring like the rest.

Marjoram stared at the beast, chest puffed with anger and fear, “What to do with you? Well...I suppose you’re fine here.”

After some consideration, Marjoram cast a silencing spell over the cage, put several runes around it, and descended into the basement.

Sighing, Marjoram sat down at desk. Spread out in front of him was the notes, calculations, and magical theories that had been presented so far. So far, the best estimate for how long it would take to get Twilight un-statued (without the cockatrice’s help), was at least twenty-years. That was with all the best minds brought together to put forth ideas and work on the project, as well as taking into account current speeds of innovation...it wouldn’t be enough.

Marjoram didn’t know if he had another week, much less any more time than that. Celestia would never give up, but she couldn’t devote every single waking moment into trying to get Twilight back, not while ruling over Equestria. So, Marjoram had to do as much work as he could, because without him, it could very well be decades before Twilight was released from her prison.

A headache was already building. Marjoram took a sip of his cold cup of coffee, and levitated a piece of parchment over so he could read it easier.

From what anypony can figure, the petrification looks like it’s a transfer of energy. Transferring the energy that keeps a pony alive, into an energy that keeps them turned to stone. Since the pony is technically no longer living, all energy the body could produce is put into the cycle. If the pony is close to a ley-line of magic, the pony could live forever until a way is devised to get the energy back into its original form.

Energy. How could he be so stupid?! Turning to his bookshelf, Marjoram scanned down his dark magic books. Necromancy and You: A Beginner’s Guide, Using Necromancy for Light Purposes, The Encyclopedia of Necromantic Spells, Blood Magic and it’s Purposes, Super! You’ve Decided to Turn to Dark Magic. Ask Yourself: What Next? All flew off their shelves, flipping open so Marjoram could skim their contents.

Transferring energy is as simple to somepony who knows necromancy, as it is for an earth pony to feel the magic beneath their hooves-

Blood magic can boost available energy by taking it from the donor, the land around where the ritual is cast, and this energy can be channeled into spells-

It’s been hypothesized that with enough energy, it would be possible to reverse the Cockatrice’s Curse. Non such experiment has been successful-

The other books fell away. Skimming the passage, Marjoram was disappointed to learn there wasn’t even a diagram of any failed experiments included. Flinging the book away in disgust, Marjoram turned to one of the necromancy books that had been previously discarded.

Suddenly, things shifted. Marjoram felt his heart stall, his lungs seize, and his magic flail in response, and shut his eyes with the shock of his body shutting down.

Suddenly, Marjoram could breathe but things were different. Things felt almost the same, but not. Panting weakly, feeling dizzy, Marjoram stumbled forward a step and nearly fainted. Spreading his legs wide, Marjoram’s hoof connected with something and he opened his eyes.

His heart skipped a beat. This isn’t right.

The first thing Marjoram noticed was that colour was wrong. The second thing he noticed was that he didn’t recognize where he was. Looking down, Marjoram was struck by another dizzy spell. He was in a magical circle. He had accidently knocked a candle out of place.

Panting, Marjoram shuffled over to the desk tucked into the corner of the room. Sitting down, Marjoram realized a mirror was perched on the desk. His heart froze again.

Marjoram was himself, but it wasn’t the him he recognized. He was older, thinner, and looked more haggard than he was. Still out of breath, Marjoram finally found himself calming down. Now he could think things didn’t feel...right. Almost as if he were a few milliseconds off, like when a video’s audio and visual doesn’t match up correctly.

Swallowing, Marjoram finally looked at the surface of the desk. In front of him was a roll of parchment, a quill and inkpot, and a note. Written in what Marjoram could see was his own handwriting, but more elegant. It was addressed to himself.

I know you’re scared and disoriented. I’m not going to apologize for this, but I need to know you’ve done better in your universe than I have in mine. What I will apologize for, is how my previous behaviour will affect your perception of me.

You and I have been sharing nightmares. I hope you’re a better pony than I am. Be kind to Midnight Orchid.

Marjoram blinked at the note, “That’s it?” Even his voice was weaker here.

Marjoram took a deep breath. Alright, let’s get this over with. Feeling calm, though he was sure it was because of dissociation than anything else. I need to figure out what’s going on. Swallowing, Marjoram struggled to his hooves again, and left the room.

Standing in a cold, crystalline hallway flooded Marjoram’s mind with questions. Mostly reiterations of where the hell am I? and who builds out of crystal?

Shaking himself, Marjoram did his best to move forward, away from the room he’d appeared in. Following the dull carpets, Marjoram found a hallway with crimson carpet. It was vibrant, too vibrant to his eyes, but it was different. So, he followed it.

In spite of himself, he was tiring rapidly. It wasn’t him; his mind whirred with possibilities, but it was the not-quite him body that was so exhausted after a few minutes of walking. Marjoram pushed the feeling into the back of his mind, trying to focus on what was going on. A dimensional spell like the one that the other-him had used would only last a while, and he wanted to use this time to learn more about this twisted timeline.

Marjoram found himself outside of a set of massive, ornately carved, crystal double-doors. Using his magic, Marjoram pushed the door open, and breathed in a lungfull of dirty, polluted air. Marjoram’s lungs seized, and he slammed the door shut again. Coughing harshly, Marjoram sat heavily on the plush, red carpet.

Frantic hoofsteps approached, and Marjoram was unsure how to react. He was panicking, but his body seemed relieved. Through streaming eyes, Marjoram saw heavily-armoured guards approaching. The dichotomy between his panicking head and relieved body finally rendered him useless. He couldn’t access his magic to defend himself, and he wasn’t even sure he needed to defend himself…

Marjoram’s mouth was wrenched open, and a potion bottle was pressed to his lips. Trying not to cough the liquid out of his mouth, or through his nose, Marjoram managed to swallow a mouthful before he coughed again. When the fit eased, he swallowed again, several times, and the coughing was gone.

Breathing shallowly, Marjoram peered through bleary eyes to see his saviours. A familiar voice sounded from beneath the helmet.

“There you are, my Lord. Are you alright now? Do I need to fetch Her Highness?”

Marjoram blinked, “Rainbow...Dash?” His voice cracked, and the pegasus shoved the potion into his mouth again. That eased his throat.

“I’m glad to see you remember me today my Lord. Do you recognize the other guard?”

Blinking, trying to get his vision back to normal and failing spectacularly. He caught sight of a yellow coat, “Fluttershy?”

Yellow wings fluttered, revealing their colour from the underside, “Good work, today. Her Highness will be very glad to see you lucid today. Would you like me to arrange for some time with the animals, or-”

“Enough, Fluttershy! We were told to bring him to Empress Midnight Orchid if he was lucid today!” Rainbow’s voice was hard and unyielding.

Fluttershy’s head and wings drooped, hiding her coat behind the dark armour she wore. Marjoram couldn’t even see her eyes with the helmet she wore, “I-I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright,” Marjoram whispered. He didn’t trust his voice in a volume above a whisper at this point, “Thank you for your attention.”

Fluttershy straightened, “Anytime, my Lord...that-that is so long as you’re free, and I don’t have other duties..and…” Fluttershy’s sentence trailed off, ending in a frustrated sigh.

“Sentiment is appreciated. Maybe later today? If time permits?”

Fluttershy smiled again, “Yes of course. We’re here to help you whenever you need. I should go get the animals ready-”

“After we bring Lord Marjoram to the throne room.”

“Of course. I-I apologize for my lack of composure, sir. It’s just with the negotiations and the last skirmishes of the war, nopony has had time to give the animals the attention they deserve.”

“It’s fine. It’s understandable that you’re excited,” Marjoram rocked himself to his hooves, missing the concerned looks Fluttershy and Rainbow exchanged, “Lead the way. My-my strength is fading.”

“Of course.”

Marjoram had to ask for a halt several times during the walk-that-seemed-to-take-forever. He could see Rainbow losing patience, and Fluttershy get more agitated with anticipation. Finally, after descending a staircase that made Marjoram dizzy to look too many floors down, they made it. Elegant doors, bigger than the throne room doors in Canterlot loomed overhead.

This section of the castle was much busier as well. Ponies stared, whispered, and generally shifted away from Marjoram and his guard. Marjoram did his best to ignore it. He needed to talk to this Midnight Orchid, no matter who she was, and find some answers.

The door creaked open, and Fluttershy and Rainbow stepped aside, bowing toward the throne, then to Marjoram, before leaving. The whispering noise of the room before ceased when the door clicked shut.

Marjoram didn’t know quite what to do. Was he supposed to bow? What was he supposed to do?

An elegant laugh brought Marjoram’s full attention to the throne. It was blackened crystal. One of a pair, though the other was empty. The pony sitting in what was clearly the first throne in the room, smiled at him.

Marjoram’s heart skipped a beat, and his mind raced. The pony that stood in front of him was nearly the spitting image of Twilight. There were differences, and once the initial shock wore off, they were glaring.

Midnight Orchid’s coat was darker, shining metallically in the reflection of light from the crystals. Her mane was lighter than Twilight’s, stripes of gold gleaming intermittently. Her eyes were ones that Marjoram recognized vividly. A golden honey hue that he hadn’t seen since Carnation last opened her eyes stared back at him from a pony who was unfamiliar and familiar all at once.

“Father succeeded, I presume. I can feel your magic through the heavy blanket that’s his. Your magic shines through like a beacon. I thought perhaps father had fallen into one of his delusions again when he talked about you, but now I’m certain he was correct. I’ll apologize to him when the spell ceases. I am Midnight Orchid; technically your daughter and Empress of the newly reestablished Crystal Empire.”

“I’m Marjoram...mortician, teacher to Twilight Sparkle and her assistant Spike. What is all this?”

Midnight stood up, revealing her to be shorter than Marjoram, but proportionally similar in skeletal structure, “This is your Empire. Or rather, it was before I took over from your corrupt officials.”

“Took over from my...officials? I don’t think I would have let just anypony rule a country-”

“You weren’t exactly in the best state of mind. After mother died, your mental state declined rapidly.”

“Ah,” Marjoram wasn’t sure what else he could say, “Can I ask who your mother is?”

Midnight smiled a sad smile, “Twilight Sparkle. You chose her out of a line of candidates. Mostly for political positioning, to make you seem stronger in the eyes of foreigners, but it worked. After nearly two years of you both being ‘together’ you finally married.”

Marjoram blinked. His mind was sickened at the thought. Twilight was what, almost ten years younger.

“The time difference never seemed to bother the two of you much. If there hadn’t been complications, you would have had another daughter.”

Marjoram sat down on a nearby bench, looking at the wall opposite to him for the first time. A tapestry covered the wall, elegantly stitched. It showed himself, Twilight, and who appeared to be a young Midnight. It was clearly a royal commission, but it was truly gorgeous.

“Let me guess, a mare by the name Rarity made that.”

“How did you know?”

“She is one of Twilight’s friends in my universe. She’s...well she’s a dressmaker. She does some excellent restoration work sometimes, but mostly she works on new ‘haute couture’ designs.”

“Rarity works for me now to create my gowns, and your suits actually. You’re not often seen by the public nowadays, but it’s good to remind ponies sometimes.”

“Remind them what?”

“That you’re very ill, and cannot be held accountable for your actions.”

“But I was sane when I killed Celestia-”

“She’s not dead.”

“The dreams...I thought I had.”

“You banished her to the moon alongside Princess Luna. They write when they can.”

“You mean...Nightmare Moon?-”

“Not an issue. With the advancements you made to magic, the Crystal Empire has helped restore Harmony to large portions of Equestria and the outlying lands.”

“Didn’t I take Harmony away in the first place?”

“Yes, but you were delusional and physically and mentally ill. Nearly all national governments are fine with you being here with me, protected by my guards while on my land. Celestia and Luna have given you provisionary access to Canterlot Palace, but you’ve been so worked up by the other timeline you that you haven’t given it a try.”

“The other me should do that. The fresh air might help.”

“Pollution reduction is my number one priority. With pegasi help, we’ve begun to make progress on what your officials did. I’m just glad this period is nearly over.”

“I can only imagine,” Marjoram breathed, “Am I-is he happier now? With things being fixed.”

“He misses Mother all the time. Though he does seem happier. He was almost ecstatic when Celestia and Luna wrote that everything had gone to plan.”

“That’s good. The nightmares I’ve had,” remembering the feeling of Celestia’s blood on his hooves made him shiver, “were not good.”

“I have many memories of you, and they conflict with what everypony tells me. You were always kind, adventurous, and wise. In history you will likely be painted as an insane, cruel pony.”

“He was that, once.”

“Are you the same pony you were fifteen years ago? Should you be judged with how you acted then?”

“Depending on what I did: yes. If I did what he did I would want to know I was being punished.”

“Your own mind does that well enough. And your body,” Midnight swallowed, sitting beside Marjoram, “You don’t have long, the doctors tell me.”

“No?”

“Not with you ‘blacking out’ all the time like you are. If you were healthier mentally, perhaps you could work on your physical health…”

“Start with that first, then. Do what you have to. Get my guards to talk to me, hire ponies to be my ‘friends’ if you have to at first. Bring me out of it by any means necessary.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Clearly not hard enough. Make me want to live! Contact Celestia, bring me back to Canterlot. Ask Celestia if Sea Shores is still alive, and if she is ask her to write. Try to find my brother if you can. Living so I can buck some sense into him isn’t the best way, but spite is better than wasting away.”

“I-I suppose so. I haven’t even thought to ask Celestia for help.”

“Then do it. Bring me back.”

“Alright...thank you. I’m worried for you.”

“I’m sure he’s worried about you, too. Even if I can’t show it very well.”

Midnight nodded, “I suppose so. Wait, your magic is changing.. What’s going on?”

Marjoram opened his mouth, trying to reassure her, but his heart froze. His lungs seized, and it felt like he’d been submerged in freezing cold water. His eyes closed reflexively, and he could hear his blood whooshing past his ears. Then, suddenly he could breathe.

Marjoram’s eyes flew open, as his lungs fought to breathe. His eyes were streaming, and he couldn’t see anything beyond streaks of colour and light. Thankfully, everything felt right. Colours weren’t off, the sounds of birds outside seemed real, and his head felt firmly planted in reality.

Marjoram allowed his legs to fold under him, and he breathed as quietly as he could for a few minutes. He blinked away the tears, and found his cheeks were matted with them. A quick spell fixed the problem. Was he shocked at seeing Twilight?

Breathing a sigh of relief, Marjoram climbed to his feet, and looked around. He was still in his room, but things had changed. He stood in the center of what looked like a hurricane of books and papers.

Half-calculated theories were written on papers strewn over the desk. A collection of books were placed reverently on the bed, and two large volumes were open on the desk, under the calculations.

Written in the other Marjoram’s writing, was a few notes in the margins. The chapter was about transmutation, that was clear, but what was the point? In red ink, a spell had been circled. Marjoram brought his head to the hard surface of his desk with a soft thump.

“How could I have been so stupid?!”

Flesh to stone, and stone to flesh spells should have been the first thing to come to mind. They were ancient, well written about, and now highly illegal, but they worked. Back before Equestria; before Luna and Celestia had even dreamed of being alicorns, there had been all sorts of magic being created and tested. Many things were now illegal, or forgotten. Or both, but some things still survived as precautionary tales.

“Earth and blood? That’s it? That can’t be...Can I create a failsafe?” Marjoram pulled out his potioneering set. It was something he dabbled in, potions were more Twilight’s thing, but he’d learned enough to do what he wanted.

Cleansed water, a bit of dragonscale for energy boosting and potence, some of Twilight’s mane, a feather from the cockatrice, and more than enough of Marjoram’s blended magic to run Ponyville’s power needs for almost a year, produced a purple potion. Adding some basil, rosemary, elderberry, and garlic for protection, because Marjoram was paranoid the spell would have an adverse effect somehow. Angelica, juniper, and yarrow to purify any bad magical energy that could be coming from the cockatrice.

Marjoram paused, stirring. What else? Marjoram levitated Twilight’s Compendium of Herbs and Their Magical Uses, and skimmed through it. He could add more, but he didn’t want to undo any work he had already done. Letting the potion simmer, Marjoram creeped upstairs to see if anypony had awoken yet.

No. Nopony had. Marjoram’s heart lay heavy in his chest, but he didn’t know what else he could do. Telling anypony else of the highly illegal spell would likely bring more trouble than it was worth, and he didn’t want to just use the potion. With as much power as he’d put into it, there was likely to be even more keeping Twilight in stone.

The spell would prime the area. He would create a circle, cleanse it, perform the spell, then pour the potion over Twilight without breaking the spell. Simple, relatively easy.

But terrifying. It was a combination of ancient and new magics that could potentially cause problems. Marjoram breathed deeply, sitting down. Adrenaline was pumping through his body, making him jumpy and excited.

Out of the corner of his eye, Marjoram spotted the second book. Again, circled in red pen was a spell. It was necromancy, the traditional bring-ponies-back-from-the-dead type too, what?

Marjoram recognized the spell, remembering how it had nearly collapsed the east wing of the library when it had backfired. It doesn’t work, he should remember that-

Another note in the margin, and another circle in the paragraph describing the spell. The word circled was intent. Realization dawned, and Marjoram shut his eyes from the tears welling from them. His second-biggest intention had been to bring Carnation back fully. His first intention was that he didn’t want to hurt her at all, if she was where whatever lay after. Clearly, his desire to leave her unharmed had caused the backfire-

Marjoram shut his eyes, tears once again streaming down his cheeks. The note was clearly visible in his mind’s eye: You get only one chance. Don’t mess it up.

Taking a shaky breath, Marjoram made up his mind. He shut the necromancy book, and hid it under his pillow. Bottling the potion, he got himself ready to bring Twilight back.

(LINE BREAK)

At this rate, Twilight will probably have to cart me to Ponyville herself. Marjoram mused to himself. Straining against the harness, Marjoram dug his hooves into the ground. He managed to pull Twilight’s statue a few more centimeters before he had to pause.

Looking up at the early morning sky, Marjoram could see Celestia’s sun begin to peak over the Canterlot Mountains. Breathing harshly, Marjoram struggled against the cart again, succeeding in getting the momentum he needed.

The going was slow, but Marjoram stopped just outside Ponyville. Not near the Everfree, not after the Timberwolves, but far enough from the town he wouldn’t be disturbed. Unhooking himself from the cart, Marjoram collapsed onto the cool grass for a few minutes before getting to work.

Marjoram gently lifted Twilight out of the cart, and put her on the grass. Using his magic, he poured bucketfuls of Ponyville’s black, rich earth over the ground. With a silver dagger, Marjoram pricked the inside of a leg, letting several drops hit the earth.

“Lapis in carnem; solve reguli maledictionem. Amici mei ad me.”

The words were ancient, clumsy. No rhyme or rhythm, just a plea for a friend to be brought back. The words weren’t technically part of the spell, but Marjoram figured the old words couldn’t hurt. Thinking hard, Marjoram thought of two things: Twilight unharmed, and Twilight back to normal. Intent could mean everything.

Marjoram could feel the spell beginning, and he quickly poured the potion over Twilight’s form. Stepping away from the crude circle, Marjoram watched in baited breath as his blood mixed with a portion of the dirt. Light seeped from that spot, spreading around the whole circle.

Then Twilight’s body glowed the same iridescent way. The potion glittered, then melted into the sky above. Slowly, Marjoram could see purple coming back into Twilight’s body. Holding his breath, Marjoram watched as Twilight’s body relaxed into a natural pose, not one held by stone.

The light faded, and the circle melted into the very ground. Leaving Twilight, seemingly whole and healthy, laying on the ground.

“Twilight?”

A small noise, barely audible, made Marjoram’s heart rise. Stepping closer, Marjoram could see Twilight looked as she’d had before, though her tail was ragged and clearly lacking the bit of tail they’d taken.

“Twilight? Are you okay?”

Another noise, and Twilight moved jerkily, trying to get her hooves under her and lift her head at the same time.

“Easy, Twilight, easy,” Marjoram stepped forward, only to have his legs fold out from under him. Laying on the cold grass, hysterical laughter bubbled up from nowhere. Marjoram laughed until his breath hitched, making him cough. Between the laughter and the coughing, his sides ached profusely.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his breath was crackling harshly.

“You...okay?” Twilight croaked.

A muffled giggle escaped, “I’m...divine now.”

“Why?”

“You’re back.”

“Back?”

Marjoram rolled over so he was facing Twilight, who was still laying on the grass, “I’ll explain...later.”

Twilight nodded, “Are we..safe?”

“For now, I think we are.” Marjoram stared into the early morning sky, and sighed contentedly. He’d pay the price for overworking himself, but Twilight was alright.

The spell the other him had circled in the book reminded Marjoram that he could soon speak to Carnation if he wished. Tears replaced the laughter, and soon Marjoram was crying into the dewy grass, Twilight doing her best to try to help in her post-statue stupor.

Author's Note

Sorry this took so long. Lots of editing went into the second half of this chapter, and I ended up rewriting a lot of it when I realized I'd veered away from my original plan. I hope you like this chapter!

Thanks again to Elsaack, who sometimes manages to help out when they can even though they're busy.

Carnation

There she was, just as he remembered her. Short, stocky, and healthy again. The dark amber of her coat shining softly in the light coming from the window at street level. Unbidden, tears welled in his eyes and Marjoram choked on a sob.

“Marjoram! A-are you okay!?” Carnation’s voice was soft and gentle, ringing like a melodious bell. For a split-second, Marjoram’s ears didn’t recognize her voice, but then the memories flooded back and Marjoram cried harder for the sound he’d forgotten.

“Of course I am, you silly mare!” Almost blinded by tears, Marjoram lunged for her, and wrapped her in a hug. “I-I can’t believe this worked!”

Carnation chuckled, returning the embrace, “Of course it did, you silly stallion.”

Carnation was solid, and whole in his grasp, her own hooves wrapping around him testifying to her wholeness, and Marjoram pulled away to meet her honey-gold eyes, “You haven’t changed at all.”

Carnation chuckled, “Look at you! You’ve changed...you have some grey hair around your muzzle…”

“Well, I guess I’m the older twin now,” Marjoram’s voice wavered, wincing as the attempted joke fell flat.

Awkward silence reigned for a moment, before Marjoram let out a high-pitched, desperate giggle. Carnation shot him a questioning look that was eerily similar to Twilight’s.

“It’s just I had so much I wanted to talk to you about, so many questions I wanted answered...and I can’t remember any of them now.”

Carnation nodded slowly, “In spite of it being almost fifteen years, some things never change.”

“I can’t believe it’s been fifteen years,” Marjoram whispered, unwilling to move his gaze away from her. Even with her warm presence at his side, he didn’t want this to turn into some cruel joke.

“Me either to be honest. It’s been a lifetime, hasn’t it?”

Marjoram snorted at the obvious pun, “I can’t believe I forgot the sound of your voice.”

“Well...can you preserve this conversation so you don’t forget again?”

“Can I? I-I don’t know how this is all supposed to work.”

“Well, don’t expect me to answer questions about the afterlife, and we should be fine.”

Marjoram blinked, “Can I ask if you’re happy?”

“I”m very happy. Happier than I was those last months,” Carnation’s voice turned rough and thick with emotion, “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me. I wasn’t in the right mind to thank you when it was all happening.”

“I wasn’t in the right mind either, you know.”

“You are now, so go get a tape-recorder. Spike told me you bought him one.”

Marjoram blinked, “You’ve talked to Spike, but not to me?”

“No, but he’s talked to me. Shores too, and Celestia and Twilight. I’ve even gotten some words from a few of Twilight’s friends.”

“Really? So you can hear me when I talk to you at your grave?” Marjoram’s voice cracked on the last syllable, and he coughed harshly.

Carnation nodded, “And elsewhere.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Carnation nodded slowly, “I always keep an ear out for you...I just wish I could reply.”

“You can now.”

“Go get that damned tape-recorder.”

Marjoram scrambled out of the room and up the stairs, fighting for breath as he searched through Spike’s things for the tape recorder. Finding it buried deep in a drawer, Marjoram found an empty tape to put inside, then went back downstairs.

For a second Marjoram’s heart broke again, he didn’t see her anywhere, but then he saw Carnation reaching up to peer through the window. She was on her hind legs, straining to see anything through the street-level window.

“This is Ponyville, huh? It’s...brighter than I thought it would be.”

Marjoram nodded, “You get used to the pastels.”

“I bet. It’s no Canterlot.”

“No...it isn’t,” Marjoram slumped onto the edge of his bed, idly pressing the button on the tape recorder.

“Do you miss Canterlot?”

“All the time. Almost as much as I miss you.”

Carnation smiled sadly, “You don’t want to talk about that, do you? Not yet. Tell me about Twilight and Spike, face to face.”

“Twilight is a bit like you. She’s like another sister, really. She’s young...and naive. I love her, but...well. I told you about what happened over Hearth’s Warming. I-I don’t want her to repeat those mistakes.”

Carnation sat beside him, leaning into him comfortably. Marjoram almost melted into the contact, his heart aching with past memories.

“I heard you. It was unfortunate, but she didn’t know what would happen.”

“I know that! That doesn’t change the fact I was stupid enough not to go to a doctor, or Celestia, or anypony else with any sort of medical expertise for a second opinion! I’ve gotten so used to Twilight’s genius that I didn’t even run tests of my own!”

“It’s unfortunate, but it’s no one pony’s fault.”

“Just like with those fillies walking in on me in the middle of an autopsy! It was technically nopony’s fault but they still got hurt and I became a spectacle!”

Carnation sighed, “I know things are rough, and will probably get worse. I promise you that this can’t be anything more than what you’ve already lived through.”

“Says the dead pony,” Marjoram whispered.

Carnation snorted, “I know it’s hypocritical, but you’re it now. You have to live life for both of us.”

“I’ve been doing a shitty job of it, then, haven’t I?”

“I dunno. You’ve done lots of good. Made some new friends, gotten a family; even if it’s unconventional. You’ve reconnected with Kafir. You’ve helped ponies, and you done some good research.”

“That I’ve basically given up since moving here. I’m useless! If I can’t help ponies like us, like you, how am I going to set Twilight and Spike up for a future without me?! I’ve left patrons and clients, and sick ponies waiting for results that aren’t coming anytime soon because of all this ridiculousness! If the ponies here ever catch wind of this spell, I might get lynched!”

“Hey-”

“I’m trapped in this shithole of a town with no research, nopony but Twilight to bounce ideas off of, and-”

“Marjoram!”

Marjoram froze, ears flicking downwards at the volume, “I’m making a big deal over nothing again, aren’t I?”

“Not nothing. You should be careful, but you can still make this work for you. Even if you send your notes to a colleague and help fund more research. I know Twilight and her recent adventures have been taking up a lot of your time.”

“We’re going to have to replace the carpet in the library soon, I’m wearing a path with my pacing.”

Carnation chuckled, “You worry too much.”

Marjoram tilted his head to one side, “Do you honestly blame me?”

“No. Not at all.”

Marjoram sighed, “I just wish you could be here. You would help.”

Carnation smiled softly, “I’m always here, but I just can’t respond.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Me too.”

There was a pause, and Marjoram was desperate to distract himself from the memories of Carnation’s death. Marjoram leveraged himself to his hooves, latching onto a different topic,“Alternate universes are real.”

Carnation blinked, “Pardon?”

“Alternate universes, different timelines, are real. I’m linked to one Marjoram in particular. He...he nearly killed Celestia. Almost brought the end of the world. He married Twilight, and they have a daughter. She’s in charge now, of his kingdom. He...he is almost insane. He told me to try this spell again.”

Carnation nodded her head slowly, “So...there’s another you that we know for sure made wrong decisions.”

“After you died he just shunned everypony. Shores, Celestia. He met Twilight years after I did. He’s suffering from a plethora of different mental illnesses. He’s dying, from our illness and from his broken mind.”

“Are you worried that’ll happen to you?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever hurt Celestia or try to marry Twilight. But...he’s dying from things I almost lost myself to. The illness isn’t exactly forgiving.”

“No kidding.”

“I’m scared. What if I lose myself like he did.”

Carnation sighed, staring down at the wooden floor, “I can’t guarantee anything, but I believe you won’t follow his path. You have Twilight, Spike, Celestia, Shores, even Twilight’s friends. Whether you like it or not, they do consider you a friend.”

“Even Rainbow?”

“Even Rainbow. She’s...not completely ignorant to why you don’t like her. If you sat her down and just talked to her she’d probably listen.. Maybe make sure you can draw diagrams or have enough room for your holograph magic things.”

Marjoram rubbed at his eyes with a hoof, “Maybe.”

“It can’t hurt. You should be able to at least chat with her friends. Maybe clearing the air for them could help you do that. Let them ask questions, tell them about what this illness means for you and everypony else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tell them frankly what this illness is. Tell them it’s roots, how it’s affected pony history for thousands of years. Tell them how you specifically have a very unique case that can’t always be predictable. Tell them about your limits. Tell them about your abilities. Tell them everything.”

“It’s private.”

“What if Twilight isn’t around and you need help? What if you’re stuck with her friends for an extended period of time? You can’t expect them to help you or be able to understand what’s going on. They need to be educated about this.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

Carnation chuckled, “I know.”

“It’s going to be a rough education period.”

“No shit.”

“Oh lord I’m going to have to write down so many notes.”

“And probably buy more chalk.”

“And find as many sources as I can.”

“And get Spike and Twilight involved too. They will probably be delighted you’re trying.”

Marjoram snorted, lips curling into a smirk, “Probably. Oh I’ll have to write Celestia to get some books...probably a lot of them. Tuberculosis* is a niche sort of category, and I know Twilight is trying but I know there aren’t more than three books here in Ponyville.”

“Be careful, Celestia might send a chariot full.”

“As if that would be a bad thing.”

Carnation chuckled, “No, it wouldn’t be.”

“It’s going to be a long discussion. Any bets on if my lungs’ll hold out?”

“No bets.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You either, you crazy stallion.”

Marjoram sat back, simply content to watch Carnation, “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.”

Carnation broke the sudden lull in conversation, “Are there any of Twilight’s friends you don’t mind?”

“Rarity isn’t terrible. I don’t think I’m comfortable calling her a friend, but ‘acquaintance’ doesn’t really cover it either. And no, I’m not interested in her romantically anyway.”

“You aren’t interested in anyone romantically.”

Marjoram shrugged, “It feels good to say every so often.”

“Go on. What about Rarity makes her more acceptable than the others?”

“She seems to understand where I’m coming from most of the time. Hard work, and creativity, and all that. She’s quiet, with an understated sense of sarcasm that she underutilizes honestly. She isn’t likely to have half of Ponyville in her shop at any given time. That helps.”

“It’s also because she fixed your cloak, isn’t it?”

Marjoram blinked, trying to remember. Then it struck him, “Yes. After meeting Rainbow. She made it look like it was brand new again.”

“And she didn’t judge you for being cold. She accepted it, helped you, and didn’t dwell. I know you don’t like pity.”

Marjoram nodded in agreement.

“Any of the others?”

Marjoram shrugged, “Pinkie is a...conundrum to our current knowledge of science and magic. She’s interesting to watch, but she’s loud and annoying.”

“She means well, and is more intelligent than she lets on.”

Marjoram nodded, “She’s very kind. I think her desire to have everyone she meet smile is a good one. Unrealistic, and too idealistic for me, but a good one to strive for.”

Carnation giggled, “Don’t let her hear that. She might never let you live it down.”

“For all of her desires, she’s yet to make me smile,” Marjoram stated flatly.

“She’ll realize soon enough, I’m sure.”

“Fluttershy makes me worried I’ll say nothing but wrong things around her. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, and I’m never sure if I’m going to break one. It’s harrowing to spend any time alone with her.”

“She’s thoughtful,” Carnation said quietly, “She thanked me.”

“Why?”

“Because it was clearly me who taught you to try with ponies. You’re rusty as hell, and you don’t always pull it off, but you try. She can almost see the social rules being repeated in your head like a mantra.”

Marjoram snorted, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because none of them hate you. They may not all understand completely about why you are who you are, or what your illness means. They do know how much you care for Twilight and Spike.”

Marjoram nodded slowly, looking down at the tape recorder, “I’ve missed your advice.”

“I’ve missed being able to give it.”

“The spell won’t work a third time will it?”

“No. This is going to be the first and last time it works for you.”

“Ever?”

Carnation sighed, “It will work for other ponies, but there’s nopony else you’d want to talk to.”

Marjoram sighed, “Creators know it’s best to leave Mother and Father alone.”

Carnation nodded in agreement, “It is. What about Applejack?”

“She reminds me of you sometimes. Hard working, always looking after plants. Ready to fight if need arises, but also willing to use peace as much as possible.Honest to a fault, steadfast. She’s stubborn, which could cause problems later.”

“She can be...conservative in her thinking. Old school, not always the most open-minded. She’s trying to be better for her younger sister.”

“Creators know I understand that feeling.”

“I’m older than you!”

“By five minutes!”

“Still older!”

Marjoram chuckled, “This doesn’t get old.”

“Nope!”

“Rainbow?” Carnation asked gently.

“I’ve told you all about what my feelings regarding her are.”

“She does feel bad, y’know. She just doesn’t understand why you can’t physically be better.”

“So she thinks I’m faking.”

“Not after the hospital she doesn’t. She just doesn’t understand that there isn’t anything available that can help at all.”

“She should have seen me last year!”

“I thought you were going to die.”

“Really?!”

“Oh yeah. Your lungs were hemorrhaging so badly and I thought you were just going to give up.”

“You know me better than that.”

“I know. That’s why I was worried.”

Marjoram sighed, “Did you think I’d make it after you died?”

“For a while I didn’t. Then Celestia got you to grieve over what had happened. You showing any emotion was a step in the right direction, even if it was negative.”

“Watching that must’ve been hard.”

“No harder than it was to watch me wither away. I did say thank you for that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I could say thank you one-thousand times and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“Please don’t. I don’t think we have time enough for that.”

“No we don’t. I-I don’t want to leave but the spell only lasts for so long.”

“Do you know how much time we have left.”

Carnation shook her head, “No.”

Marjoram leaned over, resting against Carnation. She was warm, and solid, and more than he had hoped to dream about since her passing, “Creators I’ve missed you.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I know. I miss you too.”

“Least you get to see me.”

“I’ve missed being able to talk to you.”

“Fair enough.”

“You falling asleep on me?”

“I don’t want to. I-I’m just so tired.”

Carnation nuzzled him gently, moving so that he could lay down on the bed. Curling up beside him, she got herself comfortable, “It’s okay.” Carnation’s voice wavered with nervous tension.

“Is it the spell?” Marjoram wondered aloud.

“Maybe? I’m no good with this magic shit.”

Marjoram chuckled, burying his muzzle into her withers, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“If I was stronger we could talk for longer.”

“It’s okay. Not your fault.”

“I just wish I could do something about it.”

“It was nice to chat with you.”

“Mmhmm.”

The warmth of Carnation’s body and the soft cushions of his be made Marjoram feel more drowsy.

“Do you remember when Kafir had to take us shopping in the village?”

Carnation giggled, “Of course you silly stallion! You got covered in cheese, and he needed to buy me that fuzzy hat in return for getting you calmed down!” Carnation continued to reminiscence as Marjoram felt himself drift off into the most peaceful sleep he could recall.

(LINE BREAK)

Twilight entered the silent library, and knew something had happened. Magic, old and powerful, hung in the air like a fog. Setting down the groceries she’d been levitating with her magic, Twilight’s first thought was Marjoram.

Worry and fear was sticking in her throat, making it hard to breathe, and she hurried down the stairs. Flinging the door open, she was greeted by a curious sight.

A magical circle was set up in the middle of Marjoram’s floor, already broken. A book, old and yellowed, was in the center. Books were strewn about, some laying open or propping open books up. Marjoram was seated on the edge of his bed, eyes wide and blank. The fur around his cheeks were matted and damp; it was clear he’d been crying.

Stepping carefully, circles could be dangerous even after they’d been broken, Twilight sat next to Marjoram on the bed.

“Do I want to know?”

His magic flickering to life, Marjoram levitated Spike’s tape recorder to Twilight, and pressed play. The audio wasn’t the best quality, but that fact was soon lost.

“I love you Marjoram. I’m never too far away, even if you just want to vent.”

The voice made a soft chuckle; familiar yet different. As Twilight realized who the speaker was her heart nearly wrenched in two for her friend.

“If I could stay, I would. I love you so much, and don’t you ever forget that, you silly stallion. Don’t cry when you listen to this. You can do what you you have to do without me. You’ve lasted this long. I know it doesn’t make it any easier, but I believe you can do it. I love you, and I don’t want to go but I have to now. I love you, Marjoram and don’t you dare forget it.”

The tape ended, and while Twilight tried to process what she’d just listened to, she realized that Marjoram was crying again. She leaned into him, wrapping a leg around his thin withers, rubbing soothing circles. She could feel him shaking.

“I’ll never be able to speak with her again,” Marjoram whispered, “Not face to face.”

“Can she hear you when you’re speaking to her?”

Marjoram nodded, snuffling weakly, “She hears everyone who talks to her.”

“Even me?” Twilight sounded surprised. At Marjoram’s nod she continued, “Did she tell you anything?”

“No. Just that you and Spike, and your friends have told her things.”

“Oh, Marjoram.”

Marjoram hugged the tape recorder close, staring down at it with wet eyes, “I’m sorry you missed it.”

“It was a private conversation. I’m glad I didn’t come home early.”

“You would have loved each other,” Marjoram let out a harsh sob, leaning into Twilight. Clearly trying to draw comfort from her presence.

“Even if we didn’t, we’d make something work for you.”

Marjoram nodded in agreement, “Is...is it okay if I stay down here tonight?”

“It’s okay. You need to grieve again. Do you want or need anything?”

Marjoram shook his head, withdrawing from Twilight’s embrace. His nostrils were running. Twilight chuckled softly, and summoned a box of tissues from upstairs, “Here. Don’t be afraid to call me if you need anything. I don’t care if it’s for something small.”

Marjoram took the tissues, blowing his nose, “Thanks.”

Twilight stood on unsteady legs, and quietly left. When she reached the top of her staircase, she resolved to write to Celestia. If anypony, anypony else got wind of what Marjoram had done, there would be panic.

Celestia needed to be warned so that if anything happened, Marjoram would remain safe.

Twilight’s heart ached with grief for a pony she’d never even met. Even when Spike came back from Sugarcube Corner, she couldn’t shake the sense of disquiet.

Author's Note

*Tuberculosis is a real life illness that I’ve based Marjoram’s own illness off of. There are some differences, but I thought it was an apt a name as any. Some creative liberties have been taken, but Elsaack and I honestly couldn't think of any sort of pun that would work.

And thank you again to Elsaack who helped so much with this chapter. This wouldn't be posted now, because I had seriously hit a wall in spite of my enthusiasm. So yeah, give them love too.

This isn't quite as long as I'd hoped it would be, but I'm happy with it. I'm happy with this important chapter, so I'm glad.

Life on the Murder Scene

Marjoram had donated his research.

It was about time, Marjoram had to admit to himself. He hadn’t worked on his research in months, and it didn’t do anypony any good if he just sat on it. It was still hard to do, though. It was a tough pill to swallow, but the move was a good step in the right direction.

If Marjoram wanted to live, really live, he needed to know his limits. He wasn’t twenty anymore, and better able to juggle the research with his job, and his obligations to Twilight and Spike. His body simply wouldn’t put up with that level of overwork anymore. Donating the research was a weight off his chest, though. As reluctant as he’d been, he wished he’d given it up sooner. Talking with Carnation had been the final push he’d needed.

It was a quiet, cool spring morning. Marjoram hadn’t slept much but felt restless, so he decided to take a walk. The cool morning air helped ease the ever-present ache in his chest, and made him feel what he imagined ‘normal’ felt like.

Sitting on a bench beside the Town Square fountain, Marjoram was happily pony-watching. Seeing ponies interact and shopkeepers ply their wares was always somewhat soothing. As much as he’d detested interacting with others, he’d always enjoyed playing a little game in his own mind. He always wanted to make an excuse for why ponies were going where they were going. Carnation had told him about the game, and they’d played it when Carnation could drag him away from his books.

Watching a pony walk by, then enter the pharmacy, Marjoram couldn’t help but smile to himself.

Yes kind pharmacist. I need my medication. I’m almost out and-oh! I’m your millionth customer!? The stallion was clearly joking, a wide smirk on his muzzle.

Oh yes, my millionth customer! I can’t believe I’ve been in business for so long! I’ll cover your meds for a full year.

Through the glass window, Marjoram could see the stallion jumping up in the air, dramatically bringing a hoof to his chest. Oh goodness me, free prescriptions for a full year!? How fantastic, the insurance company will be so happy to hear how much money they’ll be losing!

The pharmacist gestured erratically, a wide smile on her face. Quit it you! You’re not up for any prescriptions, what are you-

Marjoram’s thoughts stopped when the stallion pulled out a ring box from a saddlebag. The mare stopped stock still behind the counter. For a moment, the world was still.

Then she jumped over the counter and tackled him to the ground, delight written over her features. Marjoram sighed, looking away. It was their moment.

In the cool morning, Ponyville was mostly quiet. There was some noise, but it was muffled and regular. Doors opening, shops being swept out, and general murmuring of employees talking with bosses, or ponies ordering breakfast. All accompanied with the gentle sounds of the fountain, the water reminding him of the waterfall in Canterlot.

It was peaceful, and Marjoram could almost ignore the bright pastels everything was painted with. Marjoram sighed. It was quiet and almost perfect, and the only thing Marjoram was missing was either some company or a hot pastry. Sugarcube Corner wasn’t open and everypony Marjoram wanted to talk to was either asleep, dead, or in Canterlot.

Marjoram took a deep breath, allowing the awful sounds of his lungs fill his ears. His lungs rattled on the inhale, and wheezed on the exhale. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but sometimes it was nice to just breathe and not have to worry about the sounds of him breathing be distracting to conversations. Maker, Marjoram missed silence sometimes.

Casting a glance to the clock inlaid into Town Hall, Marjoram realized he’d been out of the library for a while. Longer than he’d been for a while. Turning back to stare at the cobbles under his feet, Marjoram felt contentment. Sometimes it was nice to just feel alone in the world, even if it was just for a little while.

Resigning himself to a quiet day spent reading with Spike, Marjoram began to make his way back to the library.

An earth-shattering scream pierced the early morning peace, and prompted Marjoram to follow the echoes into the poorer part of town. Crying allowed him to find the alley that a mare was sitting in front of, crying hard.

“Miss?” Marjoram said quietly, “Are you alright?”

A terrified jolt ran down the woman’s body, and she stared wide-eyed at him before shaking her head. Shaking, she pointed a hoof down the alleyway. Looking down the alleyway, Marjoram was shocked to see blood staining the cobblestones. Peering through the shadows, Marjoram lit up his horn.

There was a pony crumpled in the corner. A bloodstained knife laid beside her, and her eyes were wide and glassy, horror etched in her features. Tying his hair back, he stretched out with his magic, trying to see if the mare was alive. She wasn’t.

Marjoram sighed, and backtracked. The mare was still crying, trying to hug herself and gain some sort of comfort from it. Marjoram reluctantly slipped his cloak off, wrapping it around her withers, “Here. I’m going to get help. I can help move you so you don’t have to...see anything else. But you’re going to have to stay here.”

Using his magic, Marjoram lifted her and rested her against the wooden wall of a nearby house, “Here we go. What’s your name?”

“Peachy-Peachy Dream,” the mare mumbled, sniffing, drawing the cloak tighter around her body.

“I’m Marjoram. I’m going to the police now, alright? Stay here, and stay safe.”

Peachy nodded, shutting her eyes and muttering to herself under her breath.

Gotta work on my teleportation. Marjoram thought to himself, appearing in front of Ponyville’s station. Flinging the door open, he didn’t want to leave Peachy unattended, he garnered the attention of several tired looking cops.

“Something’s happened. A corpse is in an alley, and a mare discovered her.”

That brought life to the momentary tableau of tranquility in the station. Orders were shouted, and Captain Emerald Aura pushed Marjoram out of the building, “While they get prepared, you need to show me.”

“Down here,” Marjoram lead the captain to the scene, “I was walking home when I heard Peachy scream. I followed the noise, and found Peachy at the opening of the alley crying and in shock. I moved her over so she can’t see the deceased.”

“You did good. You’re the mortician right?”

“Yeah, which is probably why I’m not panicking myself right now.”

“Good work so far-oh dear.”

They’d rounded the corner into the alley, and the Captain got the full view of the corpse.

“Could be suicide, if the mare was very flexible. If not we’re looking at a murder,” Marjoram said quietly.

“Get your equipment. We’re gonna need you. I’ll talk to Peachy and hold everything down here until the boys get here. Quick now, we’re gonna need to get this done with quickly.”

Marjoram nodded, teleporting again. I never thought this could happen here.

Author's Note

The title of this chapter is totally an MCR reference and I have no shame.

Sorry for the wait: I rewrote this chapter like three times before getting to somewhere I like it. I'm excited for what's next!

Life on the Murder Scene Pt 2

The ponies of Ponyville were terrified, and Twilight was no exception.

Ever since the news broke of the murder, the townspeople had been beyond tense. Nopony talked about the killing outright, still blind to the possibilities that bad things happened to good ponies. They couldn’t handle the idea that not all was Harmony and Friendship all the time.

As much as Twilight was loathe to admit it, the slap back into reality was one she’d needed. Murders were rare, even in Canterlot; but she had almost forgotten the grisly details that had shaped her perspective of ponies for so long.

Ponies could be bad. Ponies could do horrific things, and sometimes good ponies paid the price. Life had never been better in Equestria, Celestia’s Harmony Movement had done so much to stabilize Equestria and stop so many of the horrors that had plagued older civilizations in the past. Most vices were almost eradicated; drug addiction, alcoholism, prostitution, murder to name the main ones. So rare, in places, that ponies could live countless lives and never be exposed to some of them.

Twilight knew better. Celestia had taught her to see the good in ponies and in the power of friendship. Growing up, Marjoram had showed her what nopony wanted to talk about; the things ponies did when they thought they had nothing left. That knowledge, as well as the fact that most children her age hadn’t been able to understand half of what she was talking about, had been deciding factors in her isolation.

Now, she was being reminded all over again how ponies could react while under pressure. Almost everypony, while scared and anxious for news, behaved as they always did. They did their best, and tried to ensure life continued, even for those who were having a hard time.The scary thing that just made things worse, was the fact that there were no suspects.

The police hadn’t arrested anyone for the murder of Melody Charm.

There had been some questioning; mostly Melody’s family and friends, Peachy Keen, then Marjoram himself. Peachy testified for Marjoram’s innocence, and in his own investigation he cleared her name.

Melody had died of blood loss and shock. She hadn’t done it to herself, and the weapon found on the scene had been the murder weapon. The knife was clean, the forensic lab in Canterlot reported. Too clean; so whoever had committed the crime was likely to be a unicorn. Very few pegasi and earth ponies could handle a knife without some trace: teeth marks, fur left behind, or in some rare cases, shed feathers.

A unicorn had committed the first murder ever in Ponyville. It wasn’t clear if it was premeditated or not, but Melody had died alone in the alley, just after midnight. No witnesses appeared, and no leads had been found.

Ponyville was terrified. A curfew was in place, nopony went anywhere alone, and newspapers weren’t helping. Fearmongers roamed in packs, some businesses refused to open, and everypony was panicking.

Marjoram would like to say he was better than them, but honestly he was just more accustomed to hiding his worry and fear. He always knew were Twilight and Spike were, and it became custom for them to inform him where they were going without him asking. They never left the house by themselves. Marjoram left for business, but little else. His presence made ponies more jumpy, and it was just better for him to stay in the library or in his office.

Less than a week after Melody Charm, another body was found. A baseball bat was used this time, and it was just as clean.

The victim this time was an old pony, well-known amongst his neighbours for being cranky. Looking at how advanced the old pony’s arthritis was, Marjoram couldn’t begrudge the dead; chronic pain changed ponies.

The old pony’s name had been Bright Rhyme, known for his poetry writing. He’d just gotten back from some sort of conference in Canterlot a few days before his death. It was then discovered that Melody had returned to Ponyville from a weekend spent with relatives in Manehattan. No similarities between the victims could be found, except the fact they’d travelled.

Other than that, there was nothing similar at all. Different trains, different locations. Even different ponies were working when they bought their tickets. There was the same employee working when they both got back to Ponyville, but he was an old unicorn himself. He was cleared of being a suspect fairly quickly, on merit and testimony of the ponies who had disembarked along with Bright Rhyme.

After Bright Rhyme, Celestia and Luna sent guards to Ponyville, hoping to deter both the murderer, and help boost morale. While the guards helped keep things calm on a surface level, the guards couldn’t really help the police figure out who was the murderer. They just helped patrol and try to keep ponies safe.

This freed more of the police to work on trying to figure out who the murderer was. That hadn’t helped.

In the meantime, Marjoram had finally written to Shores. He told her what had happened with Carnation, as well as keeping her updated with news of the state of Ponyville. Several hours later, Celestia had sent a letter through Spike. It was a response from Shores, saying that Shores had permission to go down to Ponyville that night, most likely on the late night train that travelled between Canterlot and Ponyville. If things changed, Celestia would send another scroll through.

Spike coughed, rubbing at his chest, “Y’know, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten a letter.”

“Feels different receiving than sending?” Marjoram asked absentmindedly, skimming the letter again.

“Yeah...kinda hurts sometimes, like...like when you have to burp, but can’t? I don’t even know.”

Marjoram sighed, setting the letter down, “I should talk to the guards, tell them I’ll be out after dark. I should be okay, the platform is well lit and that pony works there too, so I won’t be alone-”

“And I’ve lost you,” Spike rolled his eyes. He hopped onto an armchair, and picked up his schoolwork. Sometimes there’s just no pleasing anypony.

“Thanks Spike,” Marjoram mumbled, “I’m going to go find a guard. If I’m not back by the time Twilight’s out of the shower let her know where I am?”

“I know.”

“Thanks.”

Then Marjoram was gone. Spike sighed, leaning over his work. Twilight would be upset if he hadn’t at least finished the chapter he was supposed to read of the Magical Compendium.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram sat on the bench beside the lamppost at the Ponyville Station. He was a bit early, but he decided it was worth the risk; he didn’t want Shores walking home alone. He could see the pony inside the station proper, overseeing the ticket and snack sales. Looked like he was getting ready to lock up in preparation for the last train.

Marjoram couldn’t blame him. There was a murderer on the loose, and it just made sense for the pony to leave the second the train had left rather than stay and risk himself. Idly, Marjoram couldn’t help but wonder if the train-pony had asked the guard for an escort home? That could explain the humming drifting through the open window.

Nopony had been happy enough to sing in weeks. Marjoram couldn’t help but be thankful that somepony at least was trying to be cheerful. Marjoram didn’t have it in himself to try, but it was nice to think not all hope was lost.

The cool night air was like a balm to the ever-present ache in his chest, so long as he didn’t move too much. It was a nice change of pace.

Ears pricking at the sound of whistling air down the tracks, Marjoram looked up to see the headlights on the front train car. Marjoram sat a little straighter. There was no reason for him to slouch like he was scared. The guards knew he was here, and Celestia willing, there were a few on patrol nearby. Shores didn’t need to know how scared everypony was, not yet. Family matters first.

Marjoram remained seated until the train rolled to a stop. With a whoosh of air, the compartment doors all opened in unison. Shores stepped out of the front-most car, her saddlebags bulging. She saw Marjoram, and ran over, almost tackling him to the ground. Her wings fluttered, and she squeezed her front legs around his neck.

“I was so worried,” She murmured.

“Why? I’m ok.”

“I-with what’s going on, I was worried somepony would find out what you did.”

“No. Twilight knows, and Spike. Nopony else. C’mon, we need to go. Can’t expect the guards to watch over us all night.”

Reluctantly, Shores let go. She sighed, then perked up, “Oh! Good news! Dr. Pneumo ran into me this afternoon, was wondering when you’d be back in Canterlot.”

“Yeah?” Marjoram led the way off the platform, keeping his breathing steady.

“With your research, and your most recent donation, they’ve finally found a way to aerosolize antibiotics*. Dr. Pneumo got permission, if you’re interested, he’d like you to be the first pony-candidate. He can’t think of anypony else that would benefit as much as you, potentially.”

“Won’t do much. Antibiotics don’t work on the TB.”

“No, but Dr. Pneumo said he thinks it might help the health of your overall lungs. Maybe not really relevant now, but later. I sent a package full of new medical equipment he wants you to try. Might not amount to much, but he’s hoping to improve your quality of life and...well your longevity.”
Marjoram blinked, “Did he show you how to use everything?”

“Yeah. Earlier today. It’s why I couldn’t catch an earlier train. The package should be here before I leave, so we can go over everything together. He said he’d include instructions, and to-”

“Call if we have questions,” Marjoram replied dryly, “He always says that.”

“He does have some pretty stubborn patients.”

Marjoram’s lips quirked at that. Then,he felt a tick of nearby magic. It was a gut feeling, nothing really concrete, but Marjoram felt like he had to react.

Without really thinking about it, Marjoram let his magic go. His horn lit, and Shores was shoved down the path several feet. Before Marjoram could understand what was going on, he saw a flash of metal where Shores had been standing. Pouring more energy into his horn, Marjoram finally lit up the street well enough to see a knife levitating midair, dark green magic holding it in place.

Marjoram’s eyes scanned nearby, keeping half an eye on the knife. No magical auras that he could see-

The knife moved, and Marjoram flung a blast of energy at it, causing it to abandon Shores. Shores stood, using her wings to throw her bulging saddlebags to the ground. Eyes wide, she shot into the air.

“I’ll get help!”

Marjoram shot the dagger with more magic, keeping the attention on him. All he had to do was hold off long enough for help to arrive. Guards were patrolling, and there should be some nearby. Marjoram could do this.

Marjoram conjured a shield, the knife glancing harmlessly off of it. Marjoram tried to stay still but the knife was moving around, clearly trying to keep Marjoram moving. Terrified and frustrated, Marjoram let a wave of magical force out. His breath wheezed in and out, and Marjoram was struggling to keep a coughing fit at bay. If he went down now, he was done for.

There! A magical aura, dim but visible. Now Marjoram could see a figure in the shadows, he could tell there was a hat beside the pony: Marjoram had knocked the hat off with the magic. That had been why there wasn’t any sign of an aura earlier.

A piercing line of pain arced across Marjoram’s flank, and his left hind leg almost buckled. Spinning again, Marjoram finally yanked the knife out of the control of the attacker. Turning around, Marjoram saw metal glint again and he jerked back reflexively.

Not quickly enough, the second knife carved a line down his neck, catching his mane and doing Creators-only-knows what kind of damage. Tears streaming down his cheeks, vision blurred, body ready to give up in spite of the adrenaline, Marjoram’s focus locked on the only spot he could see: the figure’s head.

Heart pounding, lungs threatening to spasm, Marjoram sent the knife towards the weak point Megan had told him about so many years ago: the poll of the head. Behind the ears was a weak spot, and Marjoram utilized it.

Marjoram plunged the knife down, squeezing his eyes shut in the same second. He heard the other knife fall, and let his magic let go of the dagger when the murderer started to fall. Marjoram tried to move away, panic and bile rising to the back of his throat. His body had other ideas, he collapsed onto the street, crying and gagging as he did.

A memory surfaced, from years ago, and Marjoram couldn’t help but force himself to replay it.

“Remember, Marjoram. If you ever need to defend yourself, there is a quick way to bring ponies down. Make an X between ears and eyes, center crossing location is where to hit somepony; just remember, don’t do it too hard. Hitting somepony here can kill them if you hit hard enough. Whatever you do, don’t hit the poll of somepony’s head, okay? Had a colt in here who reared up and smacked a beam too hard not too long ago. He died instantly.”**

Then, what he had done finally reached him. Marjoram had killed somepony. It was self-defense, but-that didn’t matter. Creators, what-what did I just do?

Distantly, Marjoram could feel the blood pouring down his neck and down the opposite flank, but Marjoram didn’t care. Bile rose in the back of his throat, and Marjoram puked. The surge of adrenaline had Marjoram trembling, but he didn’t notice. His sides were heaving for breath, and he was soaked with sweat, the blood and sweat pooling around his prone form.

He could still see the outline of the murderer, splayed out on the ground. He could see it. Could anypony else? He was the only one here, right?

Shores landed nearby hard and fast, sending dust and dirt everywhere with how hard her impact was. She was panicked, and angry, and he saw her expression change when she saw him. She galloped over, stopping when she saw his vacant stare. Following his line of sight, she gasped.

She took a step back, her legs folding underneath her, and gagged.

Then, the guards arrived. All of them, from the look of things. There were so many ponies, and there was noise, and dust, and Marjoram’s heart was beating louder and louder-

His lungs rebelled. The fit was violent, and painful. New tears streamed down his cheeks, and Marjoram curled in on himself. Struggling for air, a new bloom of pain caused him to double over.

Blood splattered the grass, and Marjoram was struggling to stay conscious, even with all the noise around him.

A wing wrapped around his barrel, and Marjoram felt a familiar warmth settle in beside him. The wing was a comforting presence, but everything still felt wrong. His vision swimming, tasting iron on his tongue, Marjoram was glad when he fell unconscious.

Author's Note

*This is a real life thing. As far as I know, it’s mostly used for patients with Cystic Fibrosis. I first heard of it on the Frey Life channel on Youtube. It’s pretty cool.

**Both of these places can and will kill real life horses and ponies. We had a gelding years ago that reared up at just the right angle and hit the poll of his head. It literally killed him instantly, there was nothing we could do.

The first bit with the forehead is also true. Where a horse’s fur spirals (?) near their forehead is a good way to tell where to hit a horse if you need them to stop. Hitting a horse here, I could probably send one to the ground, unharmed. This is where a lot of people will shoot a horse to put them down. Also, the poll can be used for humanely putting horses down too. Apparently the forehead thing works for cows too, though I don’t know for sure. I grew up with horses, not cows.

A Discussion

Spike didn’t like what was happening. Shores was outside yelling at police officers, which made Spike feel uncomfortable in a lot of ways. While he could understand her frustration, they did have a job to do.

Marjoram hadn’t woken up yet either, which was upsetting in its own way. Marjoram’s mane, so thick and long, was a mangled, tangled, torn mess. When Marjoram did wake up, he wouldn’t be pleased. They would have to cut it, probably fairly short too, to try to even it out.

Twilight wrapped a leg around Spike’s shoulders, pressing him close, “He’ll be okay.”

Spike leaned into the embrace, “He’s going to be so mad about his mane.”

Twilight chuckled softly, “We’ll help him through it. Don’t worry.”

Spike let out a shuddering sigh, “Is Shores going to be okay?”

“I’m sure she will be. She’s just upset and scared. That’s all. When Marjoram wakes up, she’ll be a lot calmer.”

“I know, but..I don’t think I’ve heard her yell like this before.”

Twilight nuzzled Spike comfortingly, “She’s upset that the police aren’t hearing her. Marjoram is unconscious and can’t answer their questions. They have a job to do, regardless of his state. Marjoram didn’t hurt his head, and he should be waking up soon. They want to be here when he does.”

“Is he going to be in trouble?”

Twilight froze. She knew what had happened, Shores had filled her in. The idea that Marjoram had done that to anypony was a hard reality to swallow. She sighed, “I don’t think so. It was self defence. They probably want to get his side of the story. They only know what Shores told them.”

Spike nodded, staring down at the floor, “Okay.”

Twilight sighed, “It’ll all turn out okay, Spike. You’ll see. I promise.”

One of the monitors beeped, and Marjoram shifted under the blanket he’d been provided. Twilight and Spike shot up from their chairs. Spike scrambled onto the edge of the bed, while Twilight rushed to the other side where Marjoram could better see her.

Marjoram’s eye was barely open, and she could tell he was in an incredible amount of pain. His eye focused on Twilight.

“Do you need anything?” Twilight asked, “Water, ice, another blanket?”

Marjoram’s eye flicked around the room, trying to take in what he could without moving.

“You’re in the hospital,” Twilight explained, “Shores is fine and you’re not dead, despite giving it a good try.”

Marjoram nodded minutely, his eye closing again. Spike rested his talons on Marjoram’s neck, then flinched.

“He’s cold, Twilight,” Spike said, moving closer to Marjoram. As a dragon, he was often warmer than anypony else. When chilled, cuddling with Spike was usually the best remedy.

“Marjoram,” Twilight caught his attention, the eye opening again, “Would you like some water?”

A nod.

“Another blanket?”

Another nod, and this time Twilight could see a full-body shiver wrack his frame. She made a mental note to bring two.

“One more question from me. Are you still in a lot of pain?”

Marjoram squeezed his eye shut and nodded. Twilight nuzzled him gently, “Okay. I’ll leave Spike here with you. He’ll get you warmed up for now, okay?”

Using her magic, she pressed the call button next to Marjoram’s bed.

The yelling outside had subsided, but Twilight could still hear Shores lecturing the police. She slid the door open, and poked her head through.

Shores’ tirade stopped. She turned around, hope shining in her light eyes, “Is he okay?”

“He’s awake. Barely. He hasn’t spoken, not sure if he can.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Nurse Redheart pushed past the two police officers. She looked between Twilight and Shores expectantly, “How is he? Awake now?”

“Yeah. And he’s cold. I asked if he was in pain and he nodded,” Twilight looked at Shores, “Could you get him some water?”

“I need to check his vitals,’ Nurse Redheart said, waiting for Twilight to step aside to approach the door, “Twilight, if you want to fetch some blankets, there’s a nurses desk near the warmer. They should be able to help.”

“Thank you,” Twilight smiled, making her way down the hall. Shores huffed, but left as well.

Redheart glared at the officers, “I’m sorry but I can’t let you two in yet. Not without those two here. Let me check on him, and we’ll see. He’s not doing very well right now, and his health is paramount.”

“Yes ma’am,” they replied in unison. Redheart entered the room fully, noting Spike’s presence.

“Keeping him warm?” She asked, looking over Marjoram’s vitals on the machinery.

“Yeah. He’s shivering really bad.”

“Not surprising. He’s had quite a few shocks today. Couple that with his low BMI, and the underoxygenation I’m surprised he doesn’t demand warm blankets all the time.”

Spike chuckled, “That would be a lot of work, and he knows. Usually he just uses his comforter or his cloak.”

Redheart smiled, noting that Marjoram was still conscious, though he appeared barely so.

“Good morning, Marjoram,” She said brightly. He would probably hate her attitude, but if spite got him to recover quicker than that’s what she would inspire, “Twilight said you’re still in pain. Is that true? Can you tell me where?”

Marjoram opened his mouth, but nothing more than a cracked noise came out of it. It triggered a coughing fit, causing Marjoram to curl around himself with the force. After a few moments, it settled down. Redheart was pleased to note that the hemorrhages he’d opened up had stopped bleeding, at least for now.
“Alright, I”m going to list a few options, alright? Nod if they hurt.”

Marjoram nodded, panting weakly. He was clearly fading fast, and Redheart needed to pinpoint where the pain was coming from.

“Your chest?”

A nod.

“Your flank?”

Another nod.

“How about your neck?”

Marjoram shook his head.

“Is the pain in your flank worse than your chest?”

Marjoram shook his head again.

“Alright. Thank you for your honesty. I’m here to help. Due to your injuries, we already have you on some morphine. That might be why you feel so heavy. We can’t give you anymore without increasing your risk of respiratory failure. I’ll go talk to the doctor and see what else I can do, alright? Twilight and Shores are getting you blankets and some water. I want you to drink all the water they give you, alright? I’ll be right back with some medication for you.”

Marjoram nodded again, his eye once again sliding shut. Spike nestled in closer, smiling at Redheart.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Spike. Please tell Twilight and Shores when they come back.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Redheart left, opening the door for Shores to come in. She balanced a cup of water on her back, a colourful straw sticking out of it, and smiled when she saw Marjoram was still semi-conscious.

“Hey, kiddo,” Shores said gently, “Glad you’re still awake.”

Marjoram offered a flicker of a smile, and watched as Shores slid the cup onto a nearby table. Using her mouth, she picked up the cup again. She brought it near Marjoram’s face, and he used the straw to drink until all the water was gone.

“Do you want more?”

Marjoram shook his head.

Shores set the cup down, and sank into the chair near his bedside, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Marjoram nodded, his eye sliding shut again. Twilight slid the door open again quietly, holding two blankets in her magic. She laid one of them over both Spike and Marjoram, tucking the edges around them carefully. Spike was still awake, but he’d had a long night and Twilight couldn’t begrudge him some sleep.

The other blanket she centered mostly over Marjoram. He was the chilled one afterall.

Spike made a noise in the back of his throat, “Nurse Redheart is coming back soon with medicine.” His words were a little slurred, telling Twilight exactly how tired the young dragon was.

“For his pain?”

“Yeah,” Spike curled up closer to Marjoram’s back, nestling himself carefully into the bed. Twilight ruffled his spines carefully.

“Good job, Spike. I’ll wake you later, okay?”

Spike nodded, smiling a little. It was an uncomfortable situation, but he was comfortable in the moment. Things usually looked better after a nap.

The door slid open again, and Nurse Redheart trotted in, “Alright, I have a codeine injection here. I’ll just put it into your IV, Marjoram. Your pain should decrease soon. If your pain levels spike again, you let us know alright? We’re trying to make you as comfortable as possible.”

Marjoram nodded, not bothering to open his eyes. He’d been on pain medication before, and knew the drill. In the Canterlot Hospital they had a routine. Here, he was still a relatively new patient. Needed to be careful and all.

Redheart did her job, checking over Marjoram’s vitals again. She smiled down at the snoring Spike, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Alright. Since you three are family, I’ll let you be. If any of you need a cot or something just let us know, alright?”

Shores nodded, “Thank you again. It’s appreciated.”

Redheart smiled, nodded, then left. She eased the door shut, and the officers outside parted for her.

Shores sighed, rubbing at her eyes with a foreleg, “I can’t believe he got a private room.”

“With what happened….” Twilight sighed, “I’m not surprised.”

“They’re also probably also worried about infection. He doesn’t usually get injured physically like this. Usually it’s just his lungs and the usual issues. This is a bit odd.”

Twilight sighed, looking at Marjoram. His eye was still shut, and he seemed to be asleep or falling asleep.

“What are we going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s...he’s killed someone,” Twilight whispered.

Shores’ breath hitched, “It was self-defence.”

“We know that, but not everypony will know.”

Shores sighed, “I know. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Twilight sank into a chair on the opposite side of Marjoram, “I know. I’m just worried.”

A quiet knock on the door caused both Twilight and Shores to twist to see. The glass door slid open, and one of the officers poked their heads through.

Shores frowned, “Haven’t I already-” She stopped when Marjoram’s hoof reached out to touch her. His eye was open again, and he nodded.

“He can’t talk. You need to ask yes or no questions.”

The officer slid the door open fully, and he and his partner stepped in. She shut the door behind her.

“I’m Sunny Ward,” She said, sliding the door shut behind her, “And my partner here is Obsidian Greaves. We don’t want to take too much of your time. All of the evidence adds up, we just need you to answer some questions for us, Marjoram. We’ll get out of your tail as soon as we can.”

Marjoram nodded. Shores stood and sat beside Twilight. Sunny and Obsidian stood near Marjoram’s head.

“We’ve already talked to Shores here, and like we said everything adds up. But there was a bit of time there when you were alone with the deceased. We need to get some facts straight. You’re sure you’re up to answering?”

Marjoram nodded. Sunny smiled, “Alright, good. First question. You managed to wrest one of his knives away from him. You didn’t have any weapons on you, did you?”

Marjoram shook his head. Sunny nodded, and Obsidian scribbled something down in a notebook.

“Shores said that you pushed her out of the way of a first attack, originally made on her own life. Is that true?”

Marjoram nodded.

“You struck the deceased at the poll of the head. Were you aware of the fact this would likely lead to instantaneous death?

Marjoram squeezed his eye shut, and nodded. Obsidian continued to write in his notebook.

Sunny sighed, “You have defensive wounds on you, though he doesn’t. We would like to have a copy of your medical history. This will help us verify that you took the best possible course of action in your defense, and in the defense of your friend. Is that alright?”

Marjoram nodded. He tried to move, but Shores rested a hoof on his barrel, “I’ll contact the doctors in Canterlot for the full history. I’ve been meaning to get a full copy faxed here anyway. Celestia knows he won’t do it himself. I’ll have them send one to you as well.”

“Everypony at the Ponyville Station are already pretty certain no charges or anything need to be brought up. All of this was clearly self defence. We’ll keep you updated when we know more, alright? You rest up and get better in the meantime. Stay in Ponyville until we tell you otherwise. That’s just standard procedure. This is looking to be a open and shut case, so we should get back to you soon.”

“Thank you for all of this,” Twilight said, “We appreciate it.”

“I know this wasn’t an ideal time for us to come,” Obsidian looked to Shores for a moment, “But with how straightforward this is, we wanted to get this out of the way as soon as we could. Thank you for your time.”

Sunny nodded, opening the door and shutting it behind them.

Shores sighed, “That was ridiculous. Three questions.”

“They might have more later,” Twilight replied, “You never know.”

Shores rolled her eyes, moving back to her previous chair, “Idiots the lot of them. They know what I told them.”

“Yes but you weren’t there for some of it.” Twilight shook her head, “Regardless, let’s hope this gets resolved quickly. I want him out of here as quick as we can.”

“Agreed. Plus we have those new supplies coming in soon. Some of them he won’t be able to use all the time, especially now he’s hemorrhaged so recently. Have you written to Celestia, yet?”

“No,” Twilight sighed, resting her head on the back of her chair, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’ll help you write a letter now. I want her to know before the news breaks tomorrow.”

“Okay. We’ll wake Spike when it’s done though. It’s been a tough night for all of us.”

“Yeah we should let him sleep in tomorrow, poor kid. I’ll see if I can’t find a pen and some paper for us to use, alright? I know you prefer ink and parchment-”

“This is more important,” Twilight interrupted.

Shores nodded, standing up and moving toward the door, “Start thinking now. It might take us a few tries to write it properly.”

“No kidding,” Twilight muttered. She took a deep breath, her mind already swirling with possibilities. It was going to take them a while to get the letter perfect.

Watching Marjoram struggle to breathe, Twilight knew getting it right would be worth it. Maybe the Princesses could help, or would know what to do. At least she hoped they would, because she was at a loss.

For the first time in a very long time, Twilight Sparkle didn't know what to do.

Beginnings

Author's Note

So, a few things about this story.
It came to me after a week of little sleep and too much reading of the Dragonlance series of books by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. I wondered to myself: What if Raistlin Majere was a pony?

Anywho, Marjoram is a pony heavily influenced by Raistlin Majere from the Dragonlance series, and sadly do not own him or MLP, so yeah. Don't sue me: I'm a student. You wouldn't even get a dime.

Edit, June 2016: Marjoram has turned out to be more of an OC than originally intended, but I will not deny the obvious connection between Raistlin Majere and Marjoram. Marjoram is heavily, heavily influenced by Raistlin Majere, but is in no way, shape, or form, a direct transfer from the DL universe. Marjoram is his own pony, despite the connections.

Beginnings

Princess Celestia stared around her private bedroom, trying to stretch out the kink in her neck that had developed over several hours of reading with her newest apprentice: Twilight Sparkle.

The little filly still had her nose buried in the book she had been reading since the lesson began. At first, Celestia had assumed the young filly would be like others that applied to her school: outgoing, and willing to skive off classes in order to do fun things with children in her age group. Oh, how Celestia had been proven wrong.

In the weeks since Twilight had hatched Spike's egg, the little filly had made it very clear that she had no friends beyond her older brother and parents. The unicorn just wasn't interested in other ponies, instead focusing on whatever tomes Celestia decided would help sate the young filly's curiosity.

So far, Twilight had proven herself to be a genius. The only thing she was missing out on was her social education. Twilight was shy, and began fumbling with her massive vocabulary among others in her age group. Twilight found it extremely difficult to make meaningful connections with other ponies, as most couldn't keep up with her intellect and magical abilities.

With every day that passed, Celestia became more and more grateful that fate had allowed her to meet and tutor Twilight. Celestia could tell that Twilight was meant for great things, and that it was Celestia's job to help shape Twilight into a force of good.

"C-Celestia?" Twilight's voice startled the princess in question. Twilight wasn't used to dropping Celestia's official title yet, and Celestia believed it would be a while before the purple unicorn became truly comfortable with it.

Celestia looked down on her pupil, "Yes, dear?"

"I have a question."

Celestia smiled, "Of course. What's troubling you?"

Twilight pointed to the thick book she was reading, "About the Second Pony War. Did Canterlot really get bombed? Why isn't there any signs of that now?"

Celestia nodded, "It's true. Lots of the city's districts got flattened or burned from the incendiary bombs. There aren't any traces of the bombs any more, because the citizen of Equestria wanted to move past what had happened. There are some statues, and lots of other types of memorials. However, ponies didn't want to keep a destroyed building around when we needed the space to hold living ponies."

Twilight nodded, then stretched, "That makes sense."

Celestia looked over at her clock, "It's time for lunch. Then we can have our practical lesson on magic."

A look of sadness crossed Twilight's features. She sighed, and marked her page with a bookmark, "Alright."

"Don't look so sad, Twilight. We're having pizza for lunch, your favourite."

Twilight brightened a little, and followed Celestia into the dining hall. There was already half a dozen servants and scholars that lived in the palace. It was Celesia's request that the ponies that lived in the palace could eat with Celestia if they so desired. They were welcome to eat in their quarters with their families, or on their own, but many decided to eat with the princess at least once a week. It was a good time for the princess to talk with her subjects, and talk scholastic matters with ponies who could actually hold a conversation with her.

Twilight had met many adults, and some children, at mealtimes. Usually, she was very quiet, but was polite. Celestia thought it was sad that Twilight wasn't letting herself make friends. However, it seemed that Twilight tended to get along better with adults than with children.

So, when Celestia noticed that Marjoram was present, already loading his plate with food. Celestia smiled, "Sit on my left today, Twilight," that was beside Marjoram.

Twilight looked nervous, but she nodded, and slipped into the chair. She looked at Marjoram out of the corner of her eye, and Celestia noticed the shine in Twilight's eyes that had become the sign that told Celestia she had picked the right book for her new student. However, this time it seemed Twilight was interested in another living pony.

Marjoram, for his part, ignored Twilight. His gold coat, an odd shade amongst pony kind, had caught Twilight's interest, and Celestia hoped that would pave the way for a friendship between the two loners. Celestia, using her magic, served herself. She offered the platter to Twilight, whose own magic enveloped the platter.

As the little filly served herself, Celestia turned to Marjoram, “How has your work been going?”

Marjoram looked up from his lunch, his golden eyes rimmed by dark circles, “It has been progressing well, Princess. I might be on the verge of a breakthrough.”

“What do you do?” Twilight asked, around her piece of pizza.

Marjoram’s gaze shifted to Twilight, “A great deal of things. I experiment with plants and animals, and I also examine the bodies of willing volunteers.”

Celestia glared over her tea at Marjoram’s bruntness. Twilight almost choked on her juice, but looked up at the taller unicorn, “So, you look at their bodies?”

“Yes,” Marjoram replied steadily, “And if somepony is near death, I will use any discoveries I've made to see if they work.”

Twilight nodded once again, looking a little apprehensive, “Is that it?”

“No. I'm also one of the local experts on the Pony Wars, especially the new types of warfare waged in the second.”

Twilight's eyes lit up, “I was reading about them today!”

It was Marjoram’s turn to look surprised. He glanced at Celestia, “Isn't she...a little young?”

“I researched it before! My dad and my brother like to talk about it at home!”

Marjoram eyes narrowed, but nodded slowly, “Yes, your brother wishes to join the guard. It would be good to know of our past failures.”

“That's what Dad said,” Twilight replied.

Celestia ate, but wasn't impervious to the shock that she, and the others at the table, were feeling. This was the most anyone had heard Twilight or Marjoram say at once. Celestia smiled to herself, and continued to eat her meal.

(LINE BREAK)

Twilight hurried into the bowels of the castle, her purple magic holding the lit lantern so she could see. Celestia had asked for Twilight to receive some lessons from Marjoram, the unicorn she'd met at lunch the day before.

Marjoram was...odd looking, Twilight surmised. He was quite tall for a unicorn, towering over most of the population, but was still quite shorter than Celestia. His height seemed to highlight his unnatural thinness, something Twilight couldn't find an explanation for. After all, the mage had access to food almost all the time. Marjoram had a coat that was the same shade as a gold bar, with a long, unkempt mane and tail the shade of freshly fallen snow. His eyes were several shades lighter than his coat, and seemed to reflect all they looked on, showing very little of what Marjoram was thinking.

Twilight was going to Marjoram’s lab, where he would be teaching her something Celestia wasn't comfortable teaching herself. This in and of itself made Twilight a little apprehensive, but she had to do as Celestia told her. Goodness knows what would happen if she didn't.

Twilight shuddered at the prospect as she knocked on the door. Maybe Celestia would send her home, or worse-

The door was enveloped in a golden light, wrenching open, “Come in!”

Twilight carefully stepped through, jumping when the door slammed shut behind her, almost catching her tail in its haste.

“Extinguish your lantern, and come here.”

Twilight blew out the flame, looking around the room to see where 'here' was. The room was brightly lit, with both candles and electric lights lighting up the space. Towering bookshelves lined the walls, with a long counter along one side of the room, covered in various tools, jars, and three large sinks. A smell that was sharp and clean, similar to a hospital, but sickly sweet in a way hospitals weren't, was also present.

Twilight shook herself, setting the lantern down, and following Marjoram’s voice. She went to the opposite side of the room, to find a mostly shut door. Twilight carefully opened the door to see Marjoram, using his magic and a hose, to spray off a shining, metal table.

Marjoram had a lab coat on, covering the majority of a pair of scrubs, with his mane pulled into a sloppy bun low on his neck, trying to keep the long strands of white hair out of his way. He had a hospital mask on, and his fore-hooves had protective latex gloves on them.

“I'm almost done, Twilight. Go sit over there, beside the desk, on the tall stool.”

Twilight nodded, rushing to the stool, and climbing onto it with some difficulty. From her heightened position, Twilight was horrified to realize that the front of Marjoram’s shirt and the table, were stained red with blood.

Marjoram rinsed away the last of the blood from the table, the mess spiralling down to a drain right underneath the table itself. Marjoram then, took off the mask and lab coat. He disappeared from sight, going around a corner, and when he came trotting out, he was free from his lab clothes.

“I apologize, Miss. Sparkle. I'd hoped to be done before you arrived,” Marjoram said dryly, “I hope you're not too frightened.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was performing an autopsy on a stallion. Do you know what an autopsy is?”

Twilight shook her head, “No.”

“It's a way to determine how a pony died. I examine the pony's remains, and I determine if the death was an accident, illness, or because of some other reason.”

Twilight nodded, “So, in a way, you're helping the pony?”

“And their family, generally speaking.”

“Am I going to have to?-” Twilight felt a little bit of panic rising in her chest.

“Not until you're much older and you want to. Most ponies can't handle my line of work,” Marjoram smiled a sickly smile, “however, it still needs to be done.”

Twilight nodded. She clacked her front hooves nervously, “So...my lesson?”

“Ah! Of course,” Marjoram sprung back to his hooves, trotting over to the opposite counter, where several books lay open, and a plant was growing in a pot. Using his magic, Marjoram brought the items over.”

“I know plants aren't really something you're interested in right now, but this is a very simple concept that requires practise and discipline to use in everyday. You are going to keep this plant a plant, but change its properties in some way without killing the plant outright.”

Twilight's brows furrowed, “How do I?-”

“Do you see these pages I have open? I want you to read the first three paragraphs from each book, no more than that mind. Call me when you're finished, and I'll give you a demonstration before you try for yourself.”

“I'm not supposed to read the entire book?!” Twilight exclaimed.

“Eventually you will, but not today.”

Twilight nodded sheepishly, pulling the nearest book close, her eyes quickly beginning to scan the page.

Marjoram left the young filly, putting away his shining instruments. Marjoram wasn't surprised that it only took Twilight a few minutes before she finished: Celestia had warned him as such.

Marjoram came back to Twilight, who's eyes were lit with interest. Marjoram gestured to the books, “Done?”

Twilight nodded, “Yes sir. Can you show me, please?”

Marjoram nodded. His horn lit with golden magic, and the plant began to glow as well. Under Twilight's watchful gaze, the plant's dark green colour changed into a magnificent silver.

Marjoram's horn stopped glowing, and the plant stopped as well. The silver remained, however, and Twilight was captivated, “That was so cool!”

Marjoram nodded, his horn lit briefly, and the plant became green again, “Your turn. Focus on the property you'd like to change, and channel your specific desire into the plant slowly. Too fast, and you'll kill it.”

Twilight bit her lip. She hunched over, squinting at the plant. Her horn lit up, the purple/pink aura flickering for a moment before solidifying. The plant soon glowed too, and Marjoram was pleased to see that the opaqueness of the plant was soon changing; turning from completely opaque to see through in a matter of minutes.

Marjoram was impressed. Twilight showed an incredible amount of magic and control. It was impressive for one so young-

Twilight's horn flared, and the plant withered and blackened. Twilight stopped, eyes wide and fearful. Marjoram laughed, his own magic taking the dead plant and putting it back on the counter.

“It's alright. You're young, and flare-ups of magic are common. With practise and time, they'll stop unless you lose control of your magic all-together. Mistakes like this are completely normal, and part of growing up. You did amazingly well for your first time.”

“Thanks,” Twilight still looked disappointed.

Marjoram sighed through his nostrils. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, sighing internally, “The first time I tried this, I burnt down my house.”

Twilight started, “W-what?”

“I tried to do what you did with no instruction whatsoever. I went in blind, so to speak. My mother realized what was about to happen, and got us all out of the house. We lost almost everything.”

Twilight's eyes were wide, “Really?”

Marjoram nodded, “Yes. That's how Celestia was informed of my powerful magic, and how I came here to Canterlot to study.”

“Wow! Does your family live here now?”

Marjoram's eyes narrowed, his mouth twitching into a frown. Twilight sat back on the stool, and cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

Marjoram shook his head, “You've done well today. I've got work to do, much of which is not for you to observe for a long time. You take the books up to Celestia's rooms, and I expect you to be finished by next week.”

Twilight grabbed the books, nodding enthusiastically, “Yes, sir,” she scrambled off the stool, her little legs moving quickly to the other room.

“Don't forget your lantern!” Marjoram called after her. He heard the scrape of the lantern being picked up, and the door opening and closing. Marjoram sighed, breathing out a sigh of relief.

Marjoram glared up at the ceiling, “I hope you're happy. I don't teach, I don't deal with others,” he grumbled, he went back into his office, slipping on a clean pair of scrubs, putting on his lab coat once more, he went into the morgue, using his magic to get the next corpse he was supposed to autopsy.

Marjoram examined the tag attached to the hoof, “So, Mr. Richly, let's see if your illness was really just an illness, shall we?”

(LINE BREAK)

Twilight hurried to Celestia's rooms, feeling a potent mixture of embarrassment, disappointment, and fear. Who in the whole wide world of Equestria was that unicorn? Why did he willingly perform experiments on other ponies, or examine their remains? Marjoram was gruff, barely made eye contact, and was clearly uncomfortable around others, but he had tried, hadn't he?

Twilight's young mind swirled with questions, observations, and fears. Why had Celestia deemed it important that Twilight spend at least one lesson a week with Marjorum? That number could increase, and Twilight didn't feel ready to sit in that creepy room-

“Ah! Twilight! You're back later than I'd thought, how did the lesson go?” Celestia set down a scroll she's been reading, her smile was soothing.

Twilight set down the books and lantern, “I killed a plant. Marjoram said it was a flare in magic.”

Celestia's gaze softened, “It's alright Twilight, this is normal for a unicorn your age.”

“That's what he said,” Twilight replied quietly.

“What's bothering you, Twilight?”

“He told me about au-autopsy.”

Celestia's eyes widened, “Why?”

“I came a little earlier than he thought. He was still cleaning the blood, I asked. Please don't get him in trouble.”

Celestia shook her head, “I won't. Do you think he'll be a good teacher?”

Twilight shrugged, “I don't know.”

“Will you continue to study under him, at least for a while? I think the both of you can learn a lot from each other.”

“Really, like what?”

Celestia smiled, “You'll see.”

Internally, Celestia replied friendship.

Rainbow and Rarity

After a quick lunch, the trio went to the Town Hall; where the decorations were being put up in preparation of Celestia's visit. Twilight hoped dearly that the pony that had been put in charge of the decorations knew what she was doing: the last pony that had been put in charge of decorating the venue had done a horrible job that had to be fixed mere minutes before the celebration began.

As Marjoram, Twilight, and Spike walked down the street, just feet away from the door, a pegasus came careening down from the sky, clearly out of control, and slammed into Marjoram, sending them both into a nearby mud puddle.

The pegasus sprung up first, clearly used to high-speed collisions. She looked down at Marjoram, and chuckled nervously, “Hehehe, excuse me?” She chuckled again, taking to the sky to hover a few feet off the ground, “Here, let me help.”

As Marjoram began trying to pick himself up, staring down at his soaked, muddied cloak and soggy mane, the cyan pegasus returned with a cloud, grey with rainwater. She floated it above Marjoram, and before he could say anything, jumped on top of it a few times, the cloud dumping large amounts of rainwater on him.

The pegasus peered over the edge of the cloud, noting that glare that Marjoram was sending her way, shivering from being drenched. She laughed, “Oops. Sorry, I guess I overdid it,” she kicked the cloud away, “Here, how about this? My very own Rainblow Dry?!” She flew to the ground, stopping just before she hit it, and flew around Marjoram in a fashion similar to a tornado. Shutting her eyes, she gently came to the ground, “No, no. Don't thank me. You're very welcome,” she turned to look at Marjoram, let out a guffaw, and fell to the ground laughing.

Spike took one look at Marjoram, and joined her, flailing as he laughed harder than Twilight had ever seen. Twilight took one look at her mentor, and had to bite her tongue to keep herself from joining them on the ground.

Marjoram's long mane and tail were matted and in complete disarray. A part of his mane was still held in the elastic, but that had become helplessly tangled in the rain and tornado. To add to the fact that both mane and tail looked ridiculous, was the cloak, now dry, laying at his feet. The brilliant red fabric was stained brown. Marjoram still shivered, and if looks could kill, the pegasus would be dead three times over.

“Who are you?” Marjoram growled.

“I'm Rainbow Dash! Haven't you heard of me?” The mare sprang to her feet, puffing out her chest dramatically.

“No,” Marjoram grit out through clenched teeth, “Who's in charge of clearing the weather for the Summer Sun Celebration?”

“Why, me of course!” Rainbow smiled, flipping her multi-coloured forelock to one side of her face, “And I'll do it without any problems!”

Marjoram bent and picked up his cloak, wincing at the sight of it, he draped it carefully across his back. Rainbow's face lost some of its bravado, “I think the only pony I know who could help with that would be Rarity. She's a real whiz when it comes to fabric.”

Marjoram nodded blowing a wisp of his hair out of his face, “I'll keep that in mind. C'mon, we'd better go check on the decorations.”

“Decorations for what?”

“The Summer Sun Celebration,” Twilight butted in, “The Princess sent us-”

Rainbow gasped, “Do you know the Wonderbolts? I'm practicing to join them some day!”

“Really? The Wonderbolts?” Marjoram responded dryly, “I doubt they'd let somepony who careens into others join easily.”

Rainbow pouted, “That was an accident!”

Twilight shot Marjoram a look, “Polite!” She hissed.

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “If this...Rarity charges me for cleaning my cloak, I'm sending you the bill.”

Rainbow looked ready to protest, but Twilight shook her head slightly, and she stopped. Without another word, Rainbow took to the sky and left. Spike picked himself up off the ground, and climbed onto Twilight's back.

“Let's get this over with,” Marjoram grumbled, walking to the door to the Town Hall. When the door opened, the trio were amazed.

We don't have to worry about the decorations. Marjoram admitted to himself. But I have the feeling we'll need to worry about the weather.

Spike let out a soft gasp, “Beautiful!”

“I agree. This won't take long at all!” Twilight said cheerfully.

“Not the décor, her!” Spike pointed to the white unicorn that was attaching ribbons to one of the pillars of the room, humming to herself softly, “Are my spine's straight?”

Twilight rolled her eyes, and approached the unicorn, “Hi! I'm Twilight-”

“Sorry, darling. Give me a moment, I'm in the zone, as it were,” The unicorn replied, in a melodic voice. Using her magic, she found a sparkling red ribbon, and tied it to the pillar, “There! Sparkle always work, don't you think? Rarity, you really are a talent,” Rarity, Twilight assumed, turned around, “Now, how might I help-” Rarity's gaze landed on Marjoram, and she let out a distressed squeal, “Oh my stars! What ever happened to your coiffure?”

“It's a long story,” Marjoram said, “We're here to check on your progress, then we'll be out of your hair-”

“What about your hair?” Rarity exclaimed. She caught sight of the cloak, and gasped, “And your cloak! Come along, I'll get you fixed right up!” Bodily, Rarity practically dragged Marjoram out of the Town Hall, and into a shop that looked very similar to a carousel.

There, she used her magic to untangle Marjoram's hair, then began to work on his cloak, muttering to herself the entire time. Marjoram sat on a comfortable chair his mane hanging loose from the ponytail so it would dry thoroughly.

“Thank you for this,” Marjoram said awkwardly.

“It's not a problem!” Rarity looked up from the sink she had submerged Marjoram's cloak in, “You needed help, and I'm happy to oblige. Are you alright?” Rarity's blue eyes narrowed, “Are you cold?”

“Always am,” Marjoram admitted slowly, “It's why I have the cloak.”

Twilight paced near the door restlessly, occasionally tossing a glance at the clock, then at Marjoram's shivering figure, then at Spike, who was staring at Rarity, obviously smitten.

Rarity's horn glowed, and a thick blanket was neatly wrapped around Marjoram's thin shoulders, “Don't protest. You're uncomfortable in my home, and that is something I cannot stand!”

Marjoram looked confused, and more than a little weirded out, but nodded, “Thank you again.”

“Stop thanking me. I'm doing something that any good pony should do if someone is in need, that's all,” Rarity smiled, kneading the cloak inside the sink, adding something from one of the bottles nearby, “I'll be done this soon, no more than half an hour, I think. This cloak is exquisite, but I can tell it's old. Where did you get it?”

“My sister bought it for me,” Marjoram admitted slowly, “When we went to Manehattan.”

“It looks like you've taken good care of it. What's your secret?”

Marjoram smirked, “Magic, mostly. I've enchanted it quite a bit.”

Rarity nodded, “How did this get so dirty?”

“Rainbow Dash,” Twilight butted in.

Rarity nodded wisely, “No further explanation needed, darling.”

Rarity worked in silence for a few minutes, and Marjoram was clearly fighting off sleep by the time Rarity pulled the red cloak from the sink, and began to carefully blow dry it with a combination of magic and machine.

Soon enough, the fabric was dry, and was in better shape than Twilight had ever seen it. Marjoram extricated himself from the chair, leaving the blanket behind. He took the cloak, and put it on, “Thank you very much.”

Rarity gave Marjoram a dazzling smile, “Anytime, darling, anytime at all. Now, what did you want at the Town Hall? Something about checking on decoration?”

“Yes,” Twilight smiled, “The Princess sent us from Canterlot to-”

“Canterlot!?” Rarity squealed, “All the fashion, grace, and sophistication! I've always wanted to live there, tell me-”

Marjoram let out a ragged cough, “Sorry, Miss. I think my encounter earlier took more out of me than I thought. We can talk later-”

Rarity smiled, “Of course! We're going to become fast friends!”

Marjoram winced, and Twilight grimaced. Marjoram coughed again, deeper and wet sounding, “Twilgiht?”

“I've got it. Spike!”

Spike scuttled over, waving dreamily at Rarity as Twilight teleported the three of them into the library.

Marjoram went into the kitchen, making himself his tea, wheezing a little as he waited.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be. I got soaked, so I'm not surprised,” Marjoram replied, “but I was dried off pretty quick. Might be overexertion-”

“I thought you were going to fall asleep there, for a while,” Twilight teased, sitting at the counter.

Marjoram rolled his eyes, “I'm going to bed after this. I'm getting more sleep here than I have in quite a while.”

“Good, maybe now you won't be so grumpy all the time.”

Marjoram glared over at Twilight, moving his head so his hair got out of his eyes, “Damned mane,” he grumbled.

“Why don't you cut it?”

Marjoram shrugged, “It adds to my mysterious allure.”

Twilight rolled her eyes, “Right. Anyway, I'm going to check out the library some more. Have a good sleep.”

Marjoram nodded, and then the tea kettle whistled. He made his tea, drank it, then headed to the basement, feeling exhaustion sinking deeply into his bones. I'm not even thirty and I feel like I'm 80. How is this fair?

Marjoram collapsed onto the comfortable bed, crawling under the thick blankets. He didn't bother putting his hair back up into its customary bun, preferring to leave it down while he slept. Marjoram made himself comfortable, and turned off the light.

Despite his exhaustion, however, Marjoram stared into the darkness of the room for quite a long time before he fell asleep.

Author's Note

I like this chapter, actually. I enjoyed writing both Rainbow and Rarity.
Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did.
Please let me know what you think!

Darkness

The next morning, Twilight had decided to give a tour of Canterlot Castle to her friends. Rarity was enamoured with the style and elegance that the castle displayed, and the rest were simply in awe of the capital city itself, not able to really process the finer details like Rarity was.

Around midday, a loud explosion sounded from the other side of the palace, and Twilight could feel a familiar shift in magic. Her heart skipped a beat, and Twilight ran toward the sound without pause. It sounded like the explosion had come from some of the rooms guests and palace residents lived in.

All Twilight could think of was Marjoram. Using her magic, she teleported to the section where Marjoram lived, and was immediately blown back by how much angry magic was in the air. Before Twilight had a chance to collect herself, a heart-wrenching, wordless scream stunned her.

Once Twilight had collected herself, she moved quickly through the maze of hallways, following the sounds of shouting and destruction to Marjoram’s room.

Where there had been a door; a crumbling wall, scorched black remained. Twilight peered carefully around the remnants of the wall, and felt her heart skip a beat.

Marjoram stood, surrounded by the destruction. The whites of his eyes glowed green, with dark tendrils of purple flowing from them, like a mockery of tears. His magic was alight, but it wasn’t the golden familiar light that Twilight recognized. It was a sickly, unnatural blackish purple. The wall facing the palace gardens had been obliterated. If Twilight looked carefully, she could see chunks of brick and marble laying on the ground stories below.

Twilight took a steadying breath and stepped around the wall, “Marjoram?”

Marjoram spun to face her, his unnatural eyes filled with a cloud of emotions Twilight couldn’t identify.

“You,” Marjoram’s already rasping voice was weaker than before, and filled with malice.

Twilight felt shivers of fear running up and down her spine, and she moved to leave, to fetch help.

Marjoram had other ideas. The magic that was keeping his horn lit erupted from it like a creeping sickness, like a viscous liquid crawling and bubbling forth from a cauldron. Twilight barely had time to erect a magical barrier.

Immediately, the barrier began to crack, but Twilight forced more magic into it, thinking of the love and protection of her friends. Another, unearthly howl, and the strength of Marjoram’s magic increased.

“Help!” Twilight shrieked, both feeling and seeing the barrier begin to crack.

Through streaming eyes, Twilight could see a golden light wrap around her barrier, and Twilight let it fall, sweat streaming down her body, and her entire body trembling.

Celestia flew in through a massive hole in the side of the palace, her eyes bright with worry. Behind the barrier, Twilight watched Celestia land, as well as drawing Marjoram’s ire. He turned his magic to her, which she deflected in kind, blowing out another wall in the meantime.

Twilight ducked reflexively, but the barrier effectively shielded her from the debris.

“Marjoram!” Celestia bellowed, her usual gentle voice was low and commanding.

Marjoram said nothing, letting out a wordless growl instead. Celestia squared herself, and Twilight could feel the sudden lack of magic in the air seconds before Celestia let out a beam of magic so bright and strong that Twilight had to shield her eyes.

Silence reigned, and the barrier dropped. Twilight opened her eyes to find Marjoram apparently back to normal, unconscious on the chipped tiles of the floor. Celestia looked more curious than anything else, striding over to Marjoram to check his vitals. Once that was done, she shot a spark of golden light into the air, which zoomed off and out of sight.

“Wh-what was that?” Twilight asked shakily, striding forward cautiously around chunks of stonework and other debris.

“I can’t know for certain right now, Twilight,” Celestia intoned seriously, “Though I have an idea.”

Something cracked under Twilight’s hoof, and she looked down at a glass phial. Bending down, Twilight could smell the she’d made for Marjoram. Her heart sank, also noting the testing materials that were commonly used when testing an unknown substance.

“Did you find something?” Celestia asked, striding over. She examined the phial, and her eyes went wide, “Twilight, what was in the potion you gave him?”

Twilight felt heat rise in her face, and the fear increased dramatically, “Umm. Well-”

Marjoram let out a wheezing moan, coughing harshly. He stirred, fighting to regain consciousness. To Twilight’s surprise, after a few whispered reassurances from Celestia, he stopped.

“Twilight,” Celestia’s voice was tinged with disappointment, “You need to tell me how he’s been acting, what he’s been eating, and what you’ve been giving him.”

Before Twilight had a chance to answer, Luna flew in through the broken wall, barely blinking an eye at the destruction. In her magical aura, she held a jeweled ring. Celestia took the ring, and put it on Marjoram’s horn. The blackish magic that Twilight had seen sparked briefly, but seemed to stop once it reached the ring.

“What’s that?” Twilight asked cautiously.

“It’s a ring that will bring Marjoram’s magic back into balance. Apparently, his dark magic was awakened, and only grew to take up more and more space in his horn, and natural magical reserves. That would be why he was having such difficulty in casting spells before. The ring will force his magic back into tolerable levels. This will be a painful process since Marjoram has no training in dark magic.”

“What happens when it’s brought into balance?”

“I’ll have to train him,” Celestia replied simply, “before I can do that, however, I need to understand how this happened-”

“I’m sorry!” Twilight blurted, “I-I knew something was happening, but I didn’t know what I could do. I just upped the dosage-” Twilight broke off, then took a breath, “It happened after Nightmare Moon, and I thought it was an outside dark magic trying to take over. The potion I made was supposed to help strengthen his magic so he could fight it off.”

“Oh Twilight,” Celestia sighed, “That’s not what happened. It was his own potential for dark magic that was awakened. It grew and grew with every light spell he cast, and since he couldn’t burn off the dark energy building up, it turned into a ticking time bomb of sorts.”

“What-what could have set him off?” Twilight asked cautiously.

“Many things. Different emotions, stress, pain. All of which he deals with quite a bit. Now, I’m going to bring him to the infirmary. If you would aid Luna in some cleanup, I will inform Shores what happened.”

Twilight nodded numbly, staring at the destruction through tear-filled eyes. Princess Luna used her magic to reconstruct the walls, while Twilight tried to salvage what possessions Marjoram had brought with him, cleaning and organizing as she did.

To her dismay, Twilight found a glass vial that hadn’t been shattered in the destruction. She found several Zap Apple seeds inside. Nearby, under a large chunk of the ceiling, she found the pages of scientific analysis that went with the test tubes. As she read them, the inevitable conclusions revealed themselves.

The Zap Apple jam contained dark magic, as well as light. When Marjoram ate it, what had been left of his light magic had been strengthened, while the dark magic had been allowed to encroach on the light magic slowly enough that it didn’t cause a problem so long as Marjoram’s light magic was fooled into thinking it was strong enough. Between that, and the large amounts of the potion Twilight had been nearly force-feeding him, it was no wonder the problem had escalated. All because Twilight had felt like she’d missed the chance to tell Marjoram what was really going on.

The realization that the whole thing was all Twilight’s fault made her sit down heavily, and stare at the results in front of her.

“Oh, Twilight,” Twilight started at Princess Luna’s voice sounding to her left. She had been thinking so hard that she hadn’t even noticed Luna reading the results as well.

“I didn’t realize,” Twilight whispered, staring at the page, “I didn’t know.”

The sound of panicked hoofbeats sounded outside, and Twilight looked over her shoulder in time to see her friends encounter the crumbling wall. They stopped short of the wreckage, staring around at the half-repaired room in concern.

“What happened?” Rarity asked, staring at the ruined architecture with sad eyes.

Twilight opened her mouth, but found herself unable to say the words. She stared at her friends with sad, horrified eyes, but couldn’t make any sounds come out of her mouth.

“Out of my way!” Twilight’s friends parted when the panicked cry of Sea Shores broke the silence.

Shores nearly flew into the remains of Marjoram’s door, her eyes wide and panicked, “What happened!? Where is he? Thank goodness you’re alright, Twilight. Where’s Marjoram?”

Twilight stared at Shores helplessly, a small shake of her head, as she tried to get over her fear of telling those she loved that this was all her fault. Shore’s face became blank, and she fell to the floor when her wings stopped beating of their own accord.

“He’s dead?” Shores whispered brokenly.

“No!” Twilight’s voice was harsher than she’d meant it to be. She swallowed, and tried again, “He’s alive. Princess Celestia thinks he’ll be alright.”

“Then why do you look like you killed somepony, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“I almost did,” Twilight whispered brokenly, “I almost killed a lot of ponies here.”

“Twilight?” Shores asked.

The adrenaline that had been coursing through Twilight finally dissipated. A lump in her throat made it impossible to breathe, much less talk. Feeling overwhelmed, with a swirl of potent emotions, she broke down and cried.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram came into consciousness slowly, his head and mouth feeling like they’d been filled with cotton. Marjoram’s eyes felt heavy, his tongue felt the same, and he had the distinct impression that he’d been sedated. Unsure of where he was, or what had happened, Marjoram tried to say something, but ended up only making an odd noise in the back of his throat, the air scraping out of his sore throat.

“Marjoram?”

Who was that? Shores? Marjoram’s fuzzy head refused to process anything. Trying to move, but finding his eyes too heavy to open, Marjoram tried to move, he discovered that he was in no condition to move. His head swam dizzyingly, and everything from his mane to his bones ignited in sudden pain.

“Sweetie, don’t move,” the voice intoned, “the Princess says you’re really sick.”

Marjoram concentrated on his eyes, and focused on trying to at least open the one facing the pony talking to him. After a bit of struggling, Marjoram cracked it open, grimacing at the bright light. After blinking a few times, Marjoram’s vision cleared marginally, and he saw the concerned face of Sea Shores staring down at him.

“Can I get you some water?”

“Please,” Marjoram whispered, his voice cracking and threatening to send him into a coughing fit.

Shores nodded, and moved out of Marjoram’s blurry vision, only to return a few moments later, “I got a straw. Here.”

Marjoram drank the water carefully, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace his body had settled into, “What happened?” Marjoram asked, his voice a little stronger now that his mouth didn’t feel like a desert.

Shores’ smile faded, “T-Twilight thinks it’s her fault, and her friends think she’s lying to protect you-”

Marjoram remembered a flash, of a sickening anger and bitterness that flowed from his very pores like sweat from a fever, “What did I do?”

“You ruined part of the castle for a few hours, and a little of the garden come springtime. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“Who did I hurt?”

“You didn’t hurt anyone!” Shores snapped, her ears flying back, and her eyes filling with tears, “No one was physically hurt!”

“Shores.”

Shores deflated a little, and she hung her head, “You attacked Twilight,” She said reluctantly, “I don’t know why. No one will tell me.”

Marjoram’s heart froze in his chest. He grit his teeth, and forced himself to move, battling the pain and the horrible nausea that threatened to overtake him. Marjoram got halfway up before Shores pushed him back down.

“You can’t move!”

“I attacked her, Shores!” Marjoram growled, his heart beating wildly, “I-I tried to hurt her, and I don’t know why!” Without realizing it, Marjoram’s weak voice had been forced into shouting, despite its shakiness, “I-I need to-” Marjoram’s eyes widened, and he stared at nothing for a moment.

“Marjoram?” Shores asked cautiously.

“I-I remember,” Marjoram whispered, “Oh, Twilight.”

Shores watched Marjoram’s eyes roll back into his head in horror, and screamed when the jeweled ring on his horn sparked a horrible, sick-smelling magic. Marjoram fell limply against the hospital bed, unconscious once more. Shores stepped away from the stallion she viewed as a son, and tried to calm herself down.

Shores looked out the window, at the setting son, and wondered why she was being kept in the dark.

Author's Note

Sorry for the delay everyone, but I really wanted to do this chapter justice. I've rewrote it twice, reread it more times that I'd care to admit to. However, it's done, and that's what matters

Setting the Stage

Marjoram was more miserable than usual, and he hated every second of it. His body was forced into a period of rest, while his mind and heart wanted nothing more than to be able to cast the spell so he could talk to Carnation.

Laying in the cold, wet, field without any form of protection hadn’t ended well for Marjoram’s health, though he hadn’t been surprised. After overworking himself for Twilight, Marjoram was only thankful he’d managed to save Twilight before his body gave out from under him.

Marjoram was curled up on the couch in the library, wrapped snugly in blankets while he listened to Twilight and Spike go over the weekly task of managing the library. Late fees, missing books, and damaged goods were all talked about, Twilight mostly trying to keep herself from panicking while Spike made sure that nothing too important was out of place or missing.

Half-asleep, but still chilled to the bone despite his body trying to tell him otherwise, Marjoram tried to blot out Twilight’s useless whining. No important volumes were missing, otherwise it would have been discovered already.

As much as Marjoram wanted to keep Twilight happy, he knew the library had only so much space. As the weeks wore on, her personal library creeped into the public one, which wasn’t much of a problem.

Most of the patrons of the Golden Oak Library were schoolponies. After that, the most frequent borrowers of books were Twilight’s friends, followed by older ponies who were lonely or bored. Only a few books were ever late, mostly because of forgetful ponies. Not out of any real malice or thoughts of stealing the books, but because ponies were ponies.

Curling into himself a little more, Marjoram squeezed his eyes shut. Trying to control his breathing, Marjoram focused hard on not listening to Twilight panic and Spike ceaselessly try to ease her worries.

Slowly, and then all at once, Marjoram fell asleep.

Meanwhile, when his wheezing snores filled the library, Spike and Twilight’s argument fizzled out and died. Spike smiled wide, “See? Told you it would work eventually.”

Twilight smiled back, “And this is why you’re my number one assistant.”

“Well...now what do we do?”

Twilight shrugged, “I’m not sure. What do you want to do?”

Spike shrugged, “I’d hoped you’d have an idea.”

“There’s a reason I asked you, silly!” Twilight giggled. Then, she had an idea, “Oh! I can go get my dress repaired for the Gala!”

“Is it the ugly one? We talked about this.*”

“I know, but I don’t want to just waste the dress, my parents spent good money on it and I looked cute-”

“When you were ten. You’re not ten anymore, Twilight. You need to get something that’ll impress Celestia!”

Twilight's lips pursed, “I guess my appearance reflects on the princess. I didn’t think of that. Thanks, Spike!”

Spike sighed in relief, “Not a problem, Twi-”

“But what am I going to wear, then? I can’t just show up without clothes, and I don’t have anything formal enough!”

“How about if you ask Rarity?” Spike suggested quietly.

“I’m sure she’s got lots of orders from ponies going to the Gala.”

“This is Ponyville, not Canterlot.”

Twilight paused, “I suppose you’re right. I-I still don’t want to impose, you know how busy she gets.”

“Worst she’ll do is say no. C’mon, there’s no harm in asking.”

“I suppose you’re right. We’ll wait until Marjoram gets feeling a bit better, though. He needs something to wear too.”

“Me too?” Spike asked cautiously.

“Yes, Spike, you too. Your state of dress says something about the Princess too, you know.”

Spike beamed, showing off his sharp teeth, “Yes! We get to spend time with Rarity!”

“Don’t get your hopes up too much, she could be busy.”

Spike shrugged, “Maybe, but not likely.”

“Rarity is a busy pony.”

“She’s probably designing her own gown, you know. I think she’d see it as a challenge.”

“Mmhmm. Right.”

“It could happen!”

Twilight shook her head, “Anyway. What’s on the schedule for today?”

“Keep Marjoram hydrated.”

“He’s asleep now. He’s already had some tea.”

“Anything else?”

“Make sure he gets to his doctor’s appointment at two-o’clock.”

“Alright. I’ll set an alarm for him. What else?”

“Getting get lunch quick before Marjoram has to get up for his appointment?” Spike sheepishly suggested. Twilight sighed, then nodded.“Thank you, Twilight!”

“Don’t thank me yet, I might make you pay for yourself!” Twilight teased.

Spike rolled his eyes, “You won’t make me pay for myself! I don’t have any bits.”

Twilight giggled, “I know. I think we’ve gotten too used to Marjoram paying for everything.”

Spike snorted, “True enough.”

“C’mon then. Sugar Cube Corner, or the Cafe?”

“The Cafe please. They have the best potato fries.”

“That’s true!”

(LINE BREAK)

Several quiet, peaceful days passed while Spike and Twilight figured out the library, and while Marjoram recuperated.

Marjoram, though he was hesitant to show his relief, was more than happy that Twilight was back to her usual self. She showed no ill effects, from the petrification or from his spellwork, and everything was as back to normal as was expected.

Marjoram, sitting at his desk, and staring at the words don’t mess it up, couldn’t be more thankful for that simple fact. Marjoram wanted to use the spell right away, wanted to be able to see, and hear, and talk to Carnation again but he was also worried. If somepony caught him performing necromancy, there could be a lynching. The spell might not work, backfiring or otherwise just fizzling out. If he had one chance, Marjoram did not want to talk to Carnation about the wrong things.

A knock from his door jolted him into the present. Shutting the book and piling more books overtop of it, he used his magic to open it. Twilight and Spike stood in the doorway, clearly ready for an outing. Twilight had her saddlebags on, and Spike was perched on her back.

“Where are you going?”

“To see Rarity about Gala outfits,” Twilight replied, smiling, “C’mon. You too.”

“But-”

“You’re coming with us and you need to look the part!”

“Ugh,” Marjoram sighed, “Are you sure I have to go at all? I like Spike’s idea of a grand tour of Canterlot better-”

“We’re going, and it’s going to be the best night ever! You’ll see!”

“Right,” Marjoram mumbled, “Don’t ask the stallion that’s been there.”

Twilight either didn’t hear him, or was ignoring him. Marjoram didn’t really care which, and just rolled his eyes at the universe in general.

“C’mon! Let’s go!”

Plodding quietly after them, Marjoram could only hope he wouldn’t look like a complete idiot when it was all over.

(LINE BREAK)

Marjoram stared at the mirror in muted shock, unsure if he should be amazed at what he saw, or terrified. He quickly decided on both.

A white button down shirt, a black neckstock, a red vest with swirling gold patterns. A black mourning coat, black spats with light grey buttons. A red pocket square, the same colour as his vest.

If he had his forelock out of his eyes he would look almost distinguished. The outfit doesn’t fit him properly at all, the sleeves too short, and everything is too baggy around his barrel. That doesn’t matter too much now, though. If it weren’t for gaunt face, he could almost see what he’d look like if he weren’t ill.

“You look handsome!” Twilight teased. “Who could have guessed she’d have an outfit that could work for you already?!”

“You planned this!”

Twilight batted her eyelashes, “Never!”

Marjoram glared, “Uh huh.”

“What do you think? Some adjustments to the measurements, and nopony would be able to judge you for your lack of fashion sense!”

“Not many ponies lack the common sense to judge a rumoured necromancer.”

Rarity shrugged, “It’s never a bad idea to put your best hoof forward.”

“Thank you, though. I-I would never think to buy something like this for myself, since I don’t usually go to these things.”

“It’s not a problem! An old client of mine wanted something similar, so I just reused the patterns. Changed the colour scheme, and I know now how everything fits you, so I’ll change the measurements accordingly. Don’t let me forget to retake your measurements the day before the Gala, so that way any last-minute changes occur you won’t be caught feeling uncomfortable in your new outfit.”

“Thank you again.”

“Again, it was my pleasure! You gave me the inspiration and motivation to create! That’s never something I turn down.”

“Have the others approached you at all about gowns?” Twilight asked suddenly.

Rarity blinked, “No, actually. Nopony has, except for you three. That’s...surprising, actually.”

“Applejack I could almost see not asking, but I thought for sure Fluttershy would have.”

“You are the first one to bring it up. In fact, it’s almost a little too early in the season for it. Make them too early, and sometimes the dresses become ‘too popular’ for some. Though, we aren’t in Canterlot…” Rarity moved to the window of the boutique, staring up at Rainbow Dash who was helping some weather pegasi move a rainbow to where it was supposed to be.

Rarity’s eyes lit up, “Oh! I have an idea for Rainbow! And you, of course, Twilight. Oh. And Applejack as well!”

“Won’t she not want something too fancy?”

“There is a delicate line, darling.”

“What about-”

“The others? There is more than enough time for me to work something out! Now, come here Spike if you please. I need to take some measurements! Your suit will be a challenge, but it’ll be so much fun!”

Marjoram stepped away from the mirror, taking off the spats and neckstock with a grimace, “I’ll admit, I look damn good in these. The layers feel odd, though.”

“Well, if you need the practice, you can wear it a little beforehand, break it in, as it were.”

Marjoram nodded, slipping off the jacket, and unbuttoning the vest, “The layers help hide how thin I am, too. I look almost healthy.”

“Well, with the new potions you’re on, hopefully you’ll look almost healthy before you put the layers on.”

Marjoram snorted, “Thanks for jinxing us, Twilight.”

“Hey!”

Spike giggled, trying not to move as Rarity worked. Rarity was clearly holding back a laugh, despite the facade of professionalism.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. You know how much Equestria tends to mess with us. Do you not remember your fifteenth birthday party?”

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t talk about it.”

“Same as my twenty-fifth hence the reminder.”

Rarity looked at Spike in confusion. He simply shook his head.

“Fine. I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry we’ve doomed us all!”

“We’re already going to the Gala, you’ve just ensured an extra amount of ‘doomed’.”

Twilight glared, but the smile tugging at the edges of her lips showed her true amusement.

Marjoram sighed, setting the pile of folded clothes on a nearby worktable, “Thank you again, Rarity.”

“It’s not a problem, really,” Rarity insisted, “I like challenges!”

“Still, are you sure you don’t want anything in return? Give me a few days, and I could probably enchant your sewing machine so it won’t break very easily.”

“Really? You can do that?”

“I’ll need to look up the proper runes, but yes.”

“Thank you then! That will do more than adequately!”

“Not a problem. I’ll let you know when I’ve got the enchantment ready.”

“Of course! Alright, Spike. There you go! I’ve got your measurements now. Go on you three! I need some space for my creative vision!”

“Of course!” Twilight beamed, “Let me know when everything’s done!”

“I will let everypony know when I’m done. You should all see them together. Have a good day!”

“You too!”

Marjoram stood beside Twilight outside the boutique, “Now what?”

“Back to the library?”

“Sounds good.”

“Can I make lunch!?”

“Yes,” Twilight looked down at Spike, “I think you’ve proven yourself responsible enough now.”

“Really!?”

“Yes. I can sit in the kitchen with you if you want-”

“Nope! I’ll be okay! If I need help, I’ll ask.”

“Okay! I trust you with lunch!”

“I-I think I’m going to lay down.”

“Again?” Twilight’s mood shifted from playful to worried in an instant.

“There was a time when you appreciated it when I was tired enough to nap.”

“I know, it’s just you slept for a long time-”

“Clearly I need the rest.”

Twilight pressed her lips into a thin line, but said nothing.

“If I don’t sleep tonight, you get to tell me you told me so.”

“I won’t get much satisfaction from it.”

“You will. I know you too well by now.”

Twilight shook her head, “Your health isn’t funny.”

“Why shouldn’t it be? Creators only know I’d be miserable without whatever little humour I can extract from it.”

Twilight glared, “It’s serious!”

“I’m more than fully aware, Twilight. I’ve been sick longer than I’ve known you.”

“Why don’t you act like it then!?” Twilight blurted suddenly, stopping mid-stride to glare up at Marjoram, “You treat yourself like you don’t matter! You don’t eat or sleep like you should, you drink when you know you can die from it! Celestia knows what else! Do you think you matter so little that-”

“Enough,” Marjoram’s voice was little more than a whisper, “Not in public.”

“But-”

“I need my tea,” Marjoram snarled, pushing past Twilight in his rush to get to the library.

Twilight paused for a moment, then followed after. Almost absent-mindedly, she levitated Spike onto her back. Once she shut the library door behind her, Spike jumped off. He ran toward the kitchen while Marjoram eased himself to the ground.

A dry, hacking cough shook his frame. Different than the usual. For a split second, Twilight heard Spike puttering around the kitchen, when everything stopped. Background noise from outside ceased, Spike stopped making noise, and Twilight could feel everything feel wrong.

“I’m saying this once,” Marjoram was standing now, staring down at her like she was ten again, sitting in his morgue, “So pay attention.”

Twilight nodded.

“My health is no longer your concern. We know what happens when you’re my sole caregiver, and while I don’t blame you, we can’t ignore what happened. I will chat with the new Ponyville doctor at the next appointment. It could be the new potions, it could be because of my insomnia. You don’t know, and sometimes I don’t know. It’s a mystery for all of us. I appreciate your concern, but do not mention my health in public again.”

“Wh-”

“Because it’s my business. It’s my body, and my choice. If I need the help, or I want to talk, or anything like that, I’ll tell you. Until then, please keep your muzzle out of it.”

Twilight’s voice was stuck in her throat, so she just nodded.

Marjoram sighed, and Twilight saw the moment his rage fizzled out, “I’m sorry, Twilight. I...didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

Twilight’s voice was still gone, so she just nodded again. A second of peace, then sound resumed again. Marjoram was back on the floor, huddled against the back of the couch. He wasn’t coughing anymore.

Twilight set her saddlebags down, and ventured into her room. She stared out of her window for a long time after that.

*I’m referring to a conversation that took place in Exploring.

Author's Note

Yeah. I'm just gonna leave this here.
Well, Suited for Success has been started!
I took Marjoram's outfit from a conversation I had with Elsaack ages ago. Lot's of layers and specific pieces of clothes.
So, if you read this story but don't follow it there's a new 'sequel' to this story. It's just different one-shots I wrote/will write because plot bunnies are a thing and sometimes I need them out.