Romp

Twilight and Rainbow Dash collapsed back-first to the ground, casting a cloud of debris into the air. The thunder of their crash resounded through the air with a hollow sound.

Rainbow coughed and wheezed through the grey dust looming over them. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up, rubbing her eyes with a fetlock. It was hard to see so much as a hoof in front of her, and the pulsing in her head didn’t help things at all. But through the dust, she could just make out a pony’s silhouette.

“Nngh… hey, Twi. You alright?” Rainbow’s voice echoed strangely hollow against her surroundings, not unlike their crash. She shook her head, figuring it had something to do with the blow they just received. When Twilight failed to answer, she reached a hoof through the cloud and called again. “Twilight? Is everything—”

The words caught in Rainbow’s throat when her hoof touched something trembling.

Rainbow squinted. Pushing herself upright, she took a step forward and fanned her wings to clear the dust. “Twilight?”

When Rainbow drew closer and the cloud began to disperse, she realized what it was she held: Twilight’s shoulder, shivering along with the rest of her body, as the mare looked over the landscape.

__________

Twilight sat on her haunches, hooves wrapped tight around her chest, eyes fixed forward, beholding the damage of their fall.

Two trenches lay dug through the earth some several hundreds yards in length, and no less than fifty in width. But it wasn’t the freshly upturned earth that caught her eye, so much as the shattered asphalt, split concrete, and scattered remains of buildings splayed beside each trench. Beyond the destruction lay a city miles in breadth, the only landscape visible to the ends of the horizon.

On instinct, Twilight surveyed the damage closer, eyes darting over the broken scene. To some relief, she noticed a few ponies who lay over the broken fragments of sidewalks begin to wake, their tiny bodies slowly rising with faint groans and sighs. Twilight allowed herself to draw a single ragged breath, if only to release an ounce of dread.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be comforted just yet, Princess,” a haughty voice called from afar.

Twilight blinked. She looked up in time to see the shadow of a massive bird cascade over the city, before Gilda crashed down at the end of her trench. The griffon spread her wings before the crimson horizon and met Twilight’s gaze with a smirk.

“Don’t think I’d let you miss out on the fun part,” Gilda said, stepping deliberately through the broken rebar and cement. “Crashing through a city unconscious? That wouldn’t do it justice. You need to be awake to enjoy the playground I made just for you.”

Twilight sat transfixed, unable to conjure so much as a word. Her ears flicked at the sound of muted screams, ponies who only just took notice of the giant griffon strolling through the city. Something reflexive told her to stand, to prepare for whatever came next.

That was when she noticed a growing pressure on her shoulder.

Twilight glanced to the side.

__________

Rainbow Dash squeezed Twilight’s shoulder, glaring at the griffon striding toward them. “Gilda. What is this? What are you doing?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Gilda cocked her head to the side with a raised brow as she stepped through the glass facade of a downed skyscraper. “Twilight’s big into this whole ‘romping around as a giant’ thing. And since she seems to be having a hard time making up her mind whether she really likes it or not, I figured, what better way to help out than to give her what she wants most? You know…” Thrusting her talon over a battered sidewalk beside her, Gilda lifted a tiny mare in front of them. “Her favorite treats.”

Rainbow felt Twilight tense beneath her hoof. She glanced over and noticed the mortified look of her friend, who stammered, “N-no… this isn’t what I—”

“Oh yes. Yes it is.” Gilda closed the gap between them, dangling the now screaming mare closer to Twilight’s muzzle. “This? This is what you love the most. Don’t even try to deny it, especially after what you did to me.”

“That’s enough!” Rainbow shouted, stepping in front of Twilight and flaring her wings. “I don’t know what you are, what this is, or why any of this is happening – but you will not hurt my friend, or anypony else for that matter!” Stomping her hoof down, she added, “This is my dream, not yours!”

Gilda looked her over flatly, then slowly down at the hoof she stomped. “If that’s the case, you must like crushing little ponies too.”

“Huh?” Rainbow looked down.

Outstretched beyond the side of her hoof lay a stallion, screaming at the top of his lungs from the pressure of Rainbow’s massive weight.

“Gah!” Rainbow spluttered into the air on frantic wings. “What the…?” She looked around and noticed the tens, hundreds, maybe thousands of ponies gathered at every corner of the city – many screaming and fleeing, and still far too many frozen in place, staring.

Without thinking, Rainbow perched on top of a building behind Twilight, causing the thing to buckle under her weight. She sprang back up with a shout and hovered in place, glancing all around at the seemingly endless city that lay in every direction.

“What’s the matter, Rainbow?” Gilda called up. “This is your dream after all, right?”

Rainbow couldn’t comprehend it. Only moments ago, they were standing over the jungle where the dream had first started. How was it possible that they had appeared in a city? Unless…

“Ah, now you’re getting it.” Using the talons that held the flailing mare, Gilda tapped the side of her head. “Remember? This isn’t just your dream now. This is also Twilight’s. You and her, from what I gather, are going through some sort of magical thing that’s brought your dreams together.” Gesturing out to the landscape around them, she said, “And this city? Where do you think the inspiration came from?”

Rainbow blinked a few times in her unsteady hover before looking down at the pony beneath her.

__________

Twilight sat huddled against the broken building behind her, gaze still fixed on Gilda, whimpering and trembling at the sight. She pressed herself further back as if to shrink away from the griffon, only to cause the building behind her to further buckle, heralding a round of screams from within.

“Now… as I was saying.” Gilda held out the tiny mare directly in front of Twilight’s snout. She could smell the blend of perfume and sweat off the frightened pony. “You know this is what you like. You can say and do everything to deny it, but at this point, that'd be pretty stupid. You've already admitted to it.” With that, Gilda reached out and grabbed one of Twilight’s hooves, tilting it upright to place the mare on its soft padding. “Like you said: it’s just a dream.” Stepping back, Gilda said, “What harm’s there in having a little fun?”

Twilight stared wordlessly at the griffon for a moment, until the trembling hooves of the tiny mare in her grasp caught her attention. The mare had a long brown mane that clung to her neck with dirt and sweat. A cutie mark of a steaming cup of coffee sat visible on her flank through the matted debris that clung to her coat, but most notable of all were the teal eyes that stared up at her, filled with fright and streaming with tears.

And like every time before, something about the sight thrilled Twilight.

The sensation worked its way through her in a sickening fashion, causing the fear and guilt within her to double in weight. For a moment, she thought to place the mare down, going so far as to relax her hoof closer to the ground. Seeing the panic in this helpless mare did nothing to boost her desire. But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t help but consider the one thing she would so much prefer to do – the one thought that caused her mouth to water even now despite the nausea flooding her chest.

“Twilight!” a raspy voice called from above. “Don’t listen to her! We’ve already been over this – you know this isn’t what you want!”

“Oh shut up already, Dash,” Gilda shouted up. “You already tried that line earlier when she had me. It didn’t work then, and it won’t work now.”

Rainbow growled. “Dangit, Twi, don’t do this. You know better. I know you do.”

Twilight’s throat seized at the sound of her friend’s words. Both Rainbow and Gilda were right in a way; there was a part of her, a big part, that wanted to put the mare down – to run as far away from all this as possible in hopes of forgetting her desire. But in the end, gazing upon the mare so small in her grasp, she knew she couldn’t deny its existence.

Once more, Twilight lifted the tiny mare close to her lips. The mare crouched against her hoof’s padding and trembled harder, covering her head with her hooves with ears folded flat. Gulping through the lump in her throat, Twilight brought the mare closer still, closed her eyes, and parted her lips.

CRASH

Twilight clenched her teeth. She quickly but carefully placed the mare down on a sidewalk beside her and stood up, bringing herself to a hover as quick as she could.

Once she was sure the mare had galloped off to safety, she redirected her attention toward the sound, and gasped.

__________

Rainbow tumbled head over hoof several times before slamming her hooves down against Gilda’s wings, pinning the griffon to the cracked pavement. A cloud of debris billowed between them as Gilda tried to swipe her talons across Rainbow’s muzzle, to no avail. Rainbow kept her head held out of reach and weight pressed down.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Dash?” Gilda spat up, struggling to free her wings.

“What I should have done to begin with.” Rainbow lifted a clenched hoof overhead—

“Knocking you out.”

—and slammed it against the side of Gilda’s beak.

Gilda flipped into a column of buildings beside them, smashing through concrete and mortar with a horrendous crash.

Rainbow didn’t waste time. Stepping through the ruins without care, she reached into the cloud of debris and yanked Gilda into the crimson light. With a growl, she lifted the griffon high into the air on strained wings and barreled over, hurling her back to the city below.

Gilda collapsed back-first into the asphalt, pummeling a crater between the broken buildings. She could barely open her eyes before Rainbow pitched her shoulder into her chest, shoving a screech out of her lungs.

“This is what you get for bullying my friend!” Grabbing Gilda by the scruff of her chest, Rainbow pulled her upright and shouted, “For all the things you did to me here and when we were younger!”

Gilda wiped her arm across her beak, glaring back with a bruised eye. “So, what, you’re beating me up over something you’re afraid of? I’m not the one who made you scared in the first place.”

“You were the one who made me feel like crap just ‘cause I didn’t like the same things you did!”

“Horseshit. This dream was of your own making and you know it. I didn’t do a damn thing to make you feel uncomfortable back then—”

“Yes you did!” Rainbow slammed Gilda back into the ground. Keeping a tight grip on the griffon’s chest, she yelled, “You led me on! The only reason you did anything I liked was ‘cause you hoped I’d give in one day and let you go all the way!”

“And you knew that!” Gilda grabbed a tuft of Rainbow’s coat hairs beneath her neck, pulling her closer to shout, “You knew what I wanted! You used me to get what you wanted without returning the favor!”

Rolling her weight to the side, Gilda slammed Rainbow into the ground and pinned her hooves down. “Don’t you get it? You can blame me for shattering your little high-school dream, for making you afraid to give in. But you’re just as guilty for expecting me to feed your fantasy without getting a single thing in return.” Leaning close to Rainbow’s muzzle, Gilda said, “Face it, Dash. You were always afraid. You’ll always be afraid.” She reached to her side. “Especially after I’m through with you.”

Rainbow’s eyes darted down to where Gilda reached: the muzzle that sat mounted against her barrel. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Let’s see who’s laughing in the end.” Using Rainbow’s fetlocks, Gilda spun the mare around and pinned her stomach-down against the shattered pavement. She attempted to pull the muzzle free from its clasp, but suddenly found her arm unable to move. “What the…?”

Gilda looked back at her outstretched talons, shrouded in violet magic.

Rainbow Dash noticed this as well. Pushing against Gilda’s weight, she craned her neck to see Twilight limping over, her horn flickering with a strained spell.

__________

Twilight stood on wobbly hooves, scuffed and scarred from the earlier fall, focusing all her attention on the restraining spell that kept Gilda at bay. The griffon snarled at her, fighting desperately to pull free from the magical hold. When she opened her mouth to speak, Twilight flicked her horn, wrapping another field tight around Gilda’s beak.

“No.” Twilight slowly shook her head. “No more.”

Although Gilda was clearly fuming, eyes bulging with anger and beak pulled taut, a hint of confusion graced her features as well. Far more so was the case with Rainbow, who continued to lie beneath the griffon; she stared out at Twilight with a raised brow, idly pushing one hoof against her captor’s chest.

Although Twilight found it difficult to so much as stand after the fall, let alone cast a spell, enough was enough. This dream and all its confounding variables had been drawn out too far. Ironically, there was one point she could relate with Gilda: she was sick of all the words. Sick of all the time and thought invested in this mess. All she wanted to do now was bring this ordeal to an end.

But first, she needed to confirm something.

Twilight stood still for a moment, silent and contemplative, merely breathing and maintaining the spell. The passing seconds seemed to only infuriate and confuse Gilda all the more, and Rainbow looked uncertain whether she should say something or not. In time, she opened her mouth to speak.

“Wait.” Twilight’s gaze shifted smoothly to Rainbow’s, and she lifted a hoof.

Rainbow blinked, furrowing her brow.

With a careful motion, Twilight set her hoof down, placing it over a piece of unbroken pavement. When she shifted her weight to step forward, the pavement cracked, tickling the padding of her hoof – just as she expected. But instead of trying to block out the sensation, or taking the time to relish it, she tried something else.

She merely let it be.

Lifting her other hoof, she finished the step, breaking the unsteady foundation of a sidewalk nearby. And so she continued like this, splitting and shattering the various surfaces beneath her, head straight and focused forward, until she closed the gap between her and her target.

Gilda’s wide eyes and narrow pupils darted between Twilight’s, who now stood within an arm’s length. Twilight placed a hoof against the griffon’s side—

“Get off.”

—and pushed her over.

Gilda toppled onto two smaller buildings, crushing them beneath the weight of her barrel. She tried to flare her wings and brace her talons, but found herself restrained by a spreading line of indigo magic, snaking over her like a sparkling rope.

Twilight gazed down at the griffon with resolute eyes and a knit brow. The most Gilda could accomplish was to writhe against the broken buildings upon which she lay, grunting and groaning behind her sealed beak. Once she was sure the spell was secure, Twilight shifted her attention.

Rainbow Dash lay beneath her, staring up with eyes wide and lips parted in shock. Chunks of pavement and cement silhouetted the pegasus’ prismatic mane, which lay splayed to one side and matted with debris. Rainbow motioned to roll over, until she realized the weight resting over her hadn’t vanished. She looked to each side.

Twilight held a hoof over each of her forelegs. Her weight prevented her from moving an inch.

Rainbow turned her attention back up, back to the violet eyes gazing down upon her. It was then she noticed something else, the starkest change between the creature who had only moments ago held her down: Twilight didn’t stare down with anger.

Rainbow blinked a few times. Twilight, who currently pinned her against the asphalt, gazed upon her curiously. The tension that had once marred her features seemed to have all but vanished.

Any other time, the silence and circumstances would have made the word ‘awkward’ the biggest understatement around – and Rainbow knew this, even in the moment. But there was something to Twilight’s gaze that held her attention. In a way, it was almost as if she was studying her.

Slowly, Rainbow relaxed beneath Twilight’s weight, letting the muscles in her legs and sides that she had kept contracted loose. The warmth that followed flowed through her veins like a calming wave. In the silence between them, she noticed a breeze blow through the air above them, tousling the back of Twilight’s mane. The breeze carried with it a soft sound that drowned out the struggles of a certain bird nearby.

Eventually, Twilight relaxed her gaze and shifted her weight, placing more against her forelegs. With careful precision, she knelt down and pulled her forelegs closer to her sides. Their snouts now a hoof away, Rainbow could feel Twilight’s slow breaths cascade over her muzzle, tinged with the strangely sweet smell of the mare’s sweat.

Rainbow couldn’t tear away from Twilight’s gaze. A jumble of words raced through her mind, natural instinct to say something and shatter the silence. But she couldn’t bring even one to her tongue. Her breath quickened, and her neck tensed. A new sensation began to flood her system, equal parts exciting and terrifying. She watched as Twilight leaned closer still.

Then, Twilight blinked. She paused within a hair’s length of her lips, before she slowly rose to her full height. She looked to the side.

Gilda continued to squirm uselessly against the magical restraints binding her limbs, eyes blind with anger.

Twilight, with relaxed poise, looked back down at Rainbow. Her voice was strong. Low. Strangely commanding. “Listen carefully, Rainbow.”

Rainbow blinked. Her ears spun forward.

“Gilda is right about one thing: this is now both our dreams.” Twilight drew a breath as she glanced around at their surroundings. “Without Princess Luna, I don’t know how we can get out of here. But I think I may know how we can gain control over it.”

Shifting her head against the asphalt, Rainbow gulped. She only then realized just how dry her throat had become. “S-so… what do we do?”

Twilight stood silent for a moment before kneeling over Rainbow, bringing her muzzle close to one ear to whisper her plan. As she did so, she cast her gaze once more on Gilda, harkening back to earlier in the dream while she continued to speak.

Suddenly, Gilda froze in her struggle. Her gaze shifted in nature. It was a subtle change, but Twilight still recognized the look: Gilda was jealous.

Twilight smirked behind Rainbow’s ear.

After whispering the instructions, Twilight stood upright once more, taking her hooves off Rainbow’s forelegs. “Do you understand?”

Rainbow nodded once. Shifting onto sore legs, she said, “Yeah. I think I get it.”

Twilight returned a nod. Once Rainbow was on her hooves, she took a stance beside her friend. They both cast their gaze upon Gilda as Twilight released the bindings around her.

“GrrUGH.” Gilda rubbed the side of her beak. “What’s the big idea? Think you’ve finally got everything figured out?”

“I never said that,” Twilight responded flatly. “I never thought it, either. Which means you’re losing touch with our subconscious.”

Gilda narrowed her eyes. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Instead of replying with words, Twilight glanced over at Rainbow. The two shared a nod.

Resting their weight against each other’s sides, the two bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Gilda stood wordless, blinking at the odd sight. When the breeze that blew between them died, Twilight and Rainbow spoke.

“‘As Daring Do trekked through the tropical jungle, the wet heat sapped her energy and slowed her every step. If only she could escape this oppressive atmosphere and fly up into the cool blue sky…’”