Blue Thoughts, Whispered Alarm
Her head pounded in the dark. Really though, the night didn't seem effective at calling the shadows here. The walls were an inky blue, yet crystal-veined and shimmering with what moonlight pierced the veil of clouds outside. If the sky were an ocean reflected into a geode, it would probably look something like this. It was annoyingly bright to her migraine, so Starling hated it.
Tossing and turning in the bed didn't help, even with the mattress not too soft or too firm. The quilt was too thin even if it warmed her. It made no difference to how vulnerable she felt.
Outside she looked like a pony, a mare whose face she didn't recognize when she looked in the mirror. But inside, Starling knew she was a pitiful, slimy, crawly thing with too many legs and feelers. All she was amounted to being sensitive and weak. Even her own body rebelled against her from time to time.
Starling curled her ears flat against her skull and closed her eyes. But without the ability to sleep, she resorted to daydreaming.
Every colt and filly, growing up, could admit to at least once pretending to be an alicorn, or so she believed. Starling wasn't an exception, even if she was a tad too old. It was perfectly rational just why, however - she knew that despite ponies being a prey species, there was still an innate need for control necessary for comfort. Starling had been deprived of that, so there it was.
The appeals beyond that were glamorous. Immortality and power, the ability to have all the time in the world to do whatever it was one pleased. Being an alicorn also meant royal prestige, and the drama along with that - to the point of being a fictionalized phenomenon, making best-sellers nationwide. There were always coups and conspiracies going on at court. Somepony was always trying to decipher what made alicorns ascend. It all went with the dark romances with lost princes or handsome mages. Sometimes there was an occasional lost civilization, equinologically inaccurate of course. Starling wasn't actually a fan of all that, preferring peace and quiet.
Her heartbeat snapped. Were those very stories connected to what were causing the princess so much anxiety? Didn't she know better?
But wait, Starling thought. Twilight had referred to historical documents. That could be anything from political treatises to servants' diaries. Her head lowered back to the pillow, sighing, not able to grasp the issue from her perspective.
Starling consciously focused on relaxing all of her muscles while she visualized still water. After that, her thoughts drifted.
Starling's alicorn-sona, existing as it were as an abstract idea, was faceless and talent-less. Whatever it could do varied by day and mood. Sometimes when she was being reflective, it helped her tackle problems.
Tonight, this alternative to herself had been a former seapony, who was succumbing to illness. The healer gave her the ultimatum - repent from a lifetime of reaving and blood-magic, and find a cure, or die a demon...
... Nevermind, that idea was too mentally-taxing to imagine from a first-person perspective. She hadn't even known how it would have turned out.
Starling re-settled in the bed, her body in knots regardless. She kept her eyes shut until the migraine brought forth dizzying, flickering lights behind her lids. She opened them and puffed air in annoyance.
The pony could still feel the rocks under her hooves. The wind was in her face and eyes, deafening and blinding. A gentle breeze was nothing like the endless blur of cats claws she'd suffered, the mountain air cutting at her hide. Even after the hot bath, her body still felt clammy and numb as if the rain had never stopped, or the soggy clothes had never left. The only difference was her cuts burned and the wounds in her hooves felt lighter from being cleaned-
-And Nico was gone. Starling wanted to be gutted for thinking about that.
Those big, trusting eyes. Her soft fur always hiding her whispery purring. Nico's little kneading paws, the same ones always following her around.
Starling's heart twisted.
Gone. Gone down the mountain. Lost in the weather, vanished into the wilderness for good. Nico's body, broken and bloody, fallen on rocks or drowning in mud. All the scenarios springing to mind, the details didn't matter. It'd be her fault it happened, either way.
Starling had been stupid. Stupid! What was worse than being called an idiot? She wanted to know so she could use that word.
Celestia. She'd just wanted to start over, just... Have a good life.
Heat prickled her eyes and neck. Starling curled into a ball to conserve heat, pulled the covers tight.
So much for that to matter, though. Two bits for the pity-party. A bad decision was her responsibility, she knew, even if it hurt. An impulsive decision, especially.
Starling cried silently nonetheless, thinking all the while.
She couldn't stay there, but she couldn't walk back up to Canterlot either. Not if Nico had died. There couldn't be sacrifices in vain.
But the question was, would she tell this to Twilight? Could she ask for help - and get it, if she admitted she was just a selfish, impulsive, over-emotional mare?
Wait, she thought. There were two questions there. One was whether or not to tell Twilight anything, of course. But what would she do if she were found? Could she really have a new living just under Canterlot's nose?
Starling sighed. Probably not, but she could try.
Hiding places were the trick, she thought with resolution. Ways to be un-found, naturally were the greatest power for an insect.
Maybe she'd even change her name?
One thing for sure - if Starling could have done anything, she would have come here much earlier in the day. Earlier in the year than this too if she could help it.
Twilight Sparkle had been curiously open with her. That was a good sign, right? Maybe that meant Ponyville was different.
Her eyes eventually drifted closed. The void was invited to consume her, and eventually it did.
Spike peeked into the dark bedroom before withdrawing his head and turning back to Twilight, who stood there with a tired-but-happy looking Applejack at her side.
“She’s still asleep,” Spike reported.
“But it’s been two days!” Twilight exclaimed. “Is she all right?”
“Relax, Twi,” Applejack said, laying a hoof on her friend. “If’n this gal did whut you said she did, she might jus’ be a mite too tired to wake up is all. Shucks, Ah remember a year, way back when Big Mac had jus’ hit puberty. He cleared out half the field before konkin’ out for a week, an’ the Doc said nothin’ was wrong, ‘cept he burned himself out.”
“But that’s not entirely it,” Twilight said. “Applejack, I’m not even sure she was telling the truth.”
Applejack furrowed her brow. “Now hold on. Why did you even want me ta meet her to begin with? So Ah’d see somethin’ ya didn’t?”
“Yes!” Twilight cried. “Applejack, that’s exactly it, and more - but - um, yes.” Her ears drooped.
Applejack sighed and fiddled at the brim of her hat, adjusting it lower over her eyes. “Well I cain’t say Ah’m happy by that, Twi, but you seem awfully spooked fer this ta be jus’ a random house-guest. And I trust yer senses. So what’s really buggin’ at you, sugarcube?”
While Twilight conjured a scroll from thin air and levitated it over to Applejack to read, Spike peeked into the bedroom again, where nothing stirred.
“Star’s not dead, is she?” Spike asked. He was immediately hushed by Twilight, and when he turned to see why, he saw Applejack scowling at the letter, before going pale.
“Well, Celestia’s sayin’ a pony by the name of Starlin’ jumped off Canterlot after makin’ a scene, an’ was presumed dead,” Applejack said softly. “No body was recovered, but she… ah, Twi? Is all this right n’ accurate? Canterlot has gargoyles?”
“And a subspecies of quarry eel we’ve taken to calling Fred,” Twilight answered quietly. “But yes, Canterlot has gargoyles. They’re rarely seen, wingless, and live in the catacombs under the city. They’re even considered honorary citizens, since they helped with the mining back when Canterlot was first beginning. But while they eat minerals, they also regularly scavenge from, ah... carcasses.”
Applejack swallowed audibly. “So, sometimes bodies jus’ go up an’ missin’. Good ta know.”
Twilight exhaled and nodded at the unpleasant fact, swallowing as well before gesturing with a hoof. “It’s clear Starling survived somehow, and was even able to sneak back home after the incident. Even if the entire thing was staged, it just doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Ah agree,” Applejack said. “It’s pretty suspicious fer a mare ta want t’ fake her own death.”
“All she’s told me, is she wants to make a fresh start,” Twilight said quietly. “I just can’t figure out what she could be running from.”
“And she’s not a spy,” Spike interjected. “I checked, she just had normal-looking stuff in her bag.”
Applejack looked at Spike, smiling thinly and nodding at that, before looking between the dragon and Twilight. “Do ya know if Celestia’s told the parents yet? How their daughter ain’t dead?”
Twilight shook her head. “Celestia suggested we learned the story from Starling herself, before anything was made public. Right now our friend is considered missing, and under investigation.”
Applejack nodded. “Ah reckon “missin’” is loads easier ta take, than “dead”. Ah cain’t imagine how her folks must be feelin’. So what’s my role in this gonna be?”
Twilight’s expression was hesitant and uncomfortable. “Well, if Starling doesn’t wake up after another thirty-minutes, I’d like it if you could help me take her to the hospital. And… Hey, AJ?”
There was a pregnant pause where the two mares looked at each other.
Applejack was the first to smile, tilting her head. “Yes, Twiligh’?”
“Do you want to help me scare off some noble-ponies and tourists?” Twilight asked, her mouth twitching with uncertainty. “Not that you have to. They’ve been asking some fairly inappropriate and uncomfortable questions as of late.”
Applejack’s brow knit. “Ah didn’ realize things were so chaotic fer you.”
Twilight rolled her eyes and chuckled nervously. “Ahaha, yes, well. It’s just the celebration attracting attention, is all.” She gave her wings a few short, anxious flaps. “Can you believe I was asked if Ponyville hosting the Winter Moon Festival was so that I could usurp the throne as the next Nightmare Moon?”
Applejack laughed hard at that, but then the sound tapered swiftly into a razor-edged chuckle before dying with a dry, “hah.” The pony scowled. “That’s mighty upsettin’ an’ full o’ horseapples, Twi. Folk shouldn’ call things lacke that jokes, not when Luna’s still sensitive about it.” She stomped a hoof on the floor.
Twilight smiled and exhaled relief, although her expression was still grave. “I know, which is why all of this must be under control before the Festival starts properly in a week. Otherwise who knows what they’ll say to her, or what could happen.”
Author's Note
Consider this an interlude before a great deal of world-building. Edited some details of dialogue. Should I add more?
Meeting the Mare with the Strangely Flickering Accent
It was late into the night when a knocking sound reverberated through the castle.
It was eleven by Twilight's mark, late but not late enough for Spike to stall for bedtime on a weekend. Her gaze lifted from the book she was reading, and while containing her surprise to the back of her mind, saw no reason not to answer. She gently lifted herself up from her nest of pillows and blankets.
It was six weeks away from Heartswarming Eve. Whatever chill outside was worsened by the large rooms and vaulted ceilings of her new home. It had become such an issue, that something had been started as soon as the leaves began to turn. It was now a regular habit to spend some portion of what was basically a royal allowance on whatever thick carpets and blankets she could find. While the main halls showed no signs of redecoration, many of the private rooms - and especially the library - were now decked in lush wintry comfort with help from her friends.
In Spike's words, "Great, I'd rather live in a layered fluffy marshmallow than force myself not to lick the walls."
Twilight was pleased that as far as the library was concerned, the colors she had chosen were coincidentally stylish. The fluffy purple rugs with the gold trim served as the neat foundation for the assortment of purple, pink, gold, and blue floor pillows and bean-bags. Even though they already had crystal furniture, it hadn't hurt to invest in three foal-sized white tables for the next generation. This was still the library of Ponyville, after all.
These tables were currently weighed down with her latest project. Stacks had grown into columns as more and more relevant data was collected. Mythology, occult, biology, magizoology, history, astronomy, politics, how to host parties in winter - was it a good or a bad thing she was fretting over the necessity of horn cozies? Twilight didn't want to let Luna down over something as basic as endothermic temperature regulation.
Twilight tossed her head, sending her concerns out of mind for now. With her curiosity still piqued, her imagination was ecstatic at the possibilities.
Perhaps Applejack was back late from Appleloosa? Or maybe it was Fluttershy, returning from helping her abandoned fledglings migrate for the first time? Mom and Dad might have even come over early! A shiver ran through her body despite knowing full well it was all unlikely.
The knocking came again.
“I’m coming!” Twilight called, trotting a little faster. "I'm here, don't worry!"
Twilight opened the door, sending a gust of icy air into her face. Her eyes widened at the pony on her doorstep, who was pitifully drenched to the bone to the point Twilight could see the ends of her dress was transparent, and otherwise so tightly bundled in dark rags and mud, she was brown all over, and only vaguely resembled a pony at all.
Had it been raining earlier? It might have been, she’d have to check with Spike to be sure.
“Ah. Come in?” She offered weakly, retreating back and making a gesture with her hoof, perfectly articulated to show she was hospitable. The question hung in the air however. Who, why? Was it an emergency? A friendship issue, this late? or perhaps some group was planning something, and required her help last minute?
The lavender alicorn was helpless at the sight of those miserable-looking golden eyes, which burned with such an awkward intensity she had to step back. Twilight felt a pang in her gut when she realized what the focus of the attention was. The mare was staring at her wings. No matter. Happened all the time. The princess responded with a practiced, friendly smile.
“Come on, don’t be shy. I’m not sure why you’re here, but I’m sure we can talk all about it after you get dried off. I’m Twilight Sparkle, it’s going to be a pleasure, I’m sure.”
“Aeh, Thanks,” Came the soft reply. The pony glanced at her hooves as they made queer squishing sounds against the marble. Twilight was instantly worried.
“You must have grass clots in your hooves,” Twilight informed her. “Why don’t I show you the bathroom, and you can pry those out and take a bath?” A quick spread of her wings in gesture startled the mare, much to Twilight’s inward cringing.
“I - aeh, are you sure, Princess?” Her visitor shuffled her hooves nervously. Squish squash, squish squash. “I had no expectations of you helpin’ me.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem!” Twilight beamed. “And it’s Twilight, really.”
To avert another reaction, Twilight shot her visitor a quick inquiry as she started to walk off, after a quick glance outside : “You look pretty worn. Did you come from someplace far?”
“Canterlot,” The mare answered with a nod, beginning to follow.
“Canterlot? Why do you look-” Twilight turned her head, and saw that her guest looked completely abashed by this, confirming her surprise. “You walked all that way?” She opened her mouth to mention the obvious fact that the train existed, but stopped herself. The mare’s ears were flat against her head, and her eyes were on the floor.
“You… Walked all that way,” She corrected herself in a softer tone, feeling sorry for the mare, who was clearly very much like Fluttershy. Twilight continued walking, making a point to tap the mare’s shoulder softly with her wing to get her moving again. “I just find that surprising, and amazing. It must have been very hard for you.”
Twilight led her down several corridors and hallways, and finally to the guest bathroom. One of four, in fact, but this one was her favorite, and she hoped her guest would appreciate it as much as she did.
“Nah, it wasn’t too hard,” Came her guest, with a breathy laugh. “I enjoyed it for the most part. There was so much life around, even while it was raining.”
Twilight smiled. “I’d love to hear why, but for now, how about you relax and settle in?”
“I’m stayin’ here?”
“Well, it is late, and you are pretty dirty,” Twilight explained, stifling a yawn with her hoof before going on. “Ponyville isn’t really known for its hotels. And with the Winter Moon Festival being soon, the inns - which are small, by the way - are probably all full. It’d probably be safer to check for clarification in the morning, but you’re going to get sick if you stay like this. Hypothermia and hoof rot are your main risks right now, but any number of illnesses can come about as a result of over-extending your body, with the cold, rainy weather we’ve been having being an additional worrying factor. ”
Twilight stopped her rambling to smile again at her guest. “Got it? It’s only for the night.” It was gratifying to see that she hadn’t gotten lost. The risk of illness was probably low, given how alert the mare seemed right now.
“Got it, Princess.” Her eyes crinkled in a smile.
“Twilight,” The alicorn reminded her guest gently, and started off before remembering something. “ If you have any luggage with you, feel free to leave it outside the bathroom door, and I’ll have my assistant carry it to where you’ll be sleeping.”
“Got it.”
“I’m going to be in the library.” Twilight gestured with a wing. “ We passed it on the way here.” She began that way.
“Ah’right.”
Twilight let out a nervous chuckle and looked back. “You know you don’t have to respond to everything I say, right?”
That made the bundled, dripping guest pause, giving Twilight an owlish stare, before nodding slowly and sitting down - wetly, in the puddle that had formed underneath her, and began to take off her clothes. Her woolen scarf, soaked through and worn as it was, had dissolved in two, making the mare gasp in horror before folding the halves and setting them beside her, sighing deeply.
Twilight’s gaze lingered in shock. Her visitor must have endured much. Even under her garments, the pony was an inky shade of mud.
The mare’s hooves paused at her neck. “Did, um, didjou need something, Preh- Twilight?”
Caught in the act, Twilight waved her hoof in furious dismissal and a bright-sounded, artificial laugh. “I only realized, I don’t know your name!”
“Oh.” The dirty mare with the bright golden eyes, blinked and hesitated. “Sterling.”
“What was that?”
“Missy Starling,” She said in a louder voice, emphasizing both parts. “Starling. Like th' bird.”
“Oh.” Twilight made a point to leave now. “I’ll see you later, Missy!”
“Laik-wise!” Came the wailing reply as Missy’s soft voice cracked from straining.
Twilight Sparkle's pace was nearly a canter, easily avoiding the trail of mud and water while her shoes echoed through the hall. She rounded the corner and teleported to the first floor of her library, where she collapsed back in her nest. For good measure, she used her magic to close all of the doors - especially ensuring to lock the one on the second floor she and Missy had passed earlier.
Twilight spent several moments breathing. Catching her breath, rather. Her wings stretched themselves out across the floor. Welcome solitude, her brain purred. Relief. This library was a three-dimensional canvas she could collect her thoughts in peace.
One, two, three, She counted out the numbers with each breath. Three, two, one. Two, three, one. Two, one, three -
“Hey, Twilight?” Came Spike’s voice, a welcome exception to her occasional need of silence.”You look pretty stressed. Who was at the door?”
One, three, two. Three, one, two.
Twilight exhaled and mentally withdrew from her exercise. Her body slowly sunk into the pillow as muscles relaxed. She turned her head and found the small dragon, sitting across, with a pillow folded in two against the wall, a comic book in hand and a stack beside him.
“There was a strange pony at the door,” She told him. “It was like it was out of a mare’s tale, Spike. You can barely tell she even was a pony, under everything. And she told me she walked here, from Canterlot.”
Spike stared. “She walked? The entire mountain down? When we have a perfectly working train station? Is she crazy or exaggerating?” He scowled. “ Wait, what if she wasn’t a pony? You didn’t let her in, did you?”
“I did,” Twilight admitted, sighing. “ Honestly that part wasn’t too strange. None of the wards went off, and she was perfectly polite. If very shy. And dirty. And awkward.” The princess hesitated. “Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“There might be a lot of water and mud for you to clean up,” Twilight admitted quietly.
“On my day off?” The dragon groaned and slumped back. “And so close to bedtime?”
“You can have another day off tomorrow, with this,” Twilight assured him. “And you can stay up late tonight.”
“Phew, and here I thought you were setting me up to yell at me.”
“Spike!” Twilight shot up in horror. “I do not do that! When do I do that?!”
“Oh, there you go,” Spike laughed. “Knew it.”
Twilight groaned emphatically and rolled her eyes, before laying back down, folding her hooves together. “Now isn’t the time to joke about that, Spike,” She sighed. “Watch it mister, or I’ll hide the ice cream.”
“Well I’ll hide your quills,” Spike teased, with a wink. He got up and moved over to sit against her, his expression changing into one that was clearly concerned. “Really though. You’re stressed. You don’t really get like this unless there’s a hard problem.”
When Twilight opened her mouth, Spike interrupted -“ Before you say anything or dismiss me, is it really this pony, or are you just stressed?”
One of the princess’s ears swiveled as she thought hard on that. “Well,” She began, holding her tongue to her teeth. “This pony worries me. No idea who she is really, or what she wants. She sounds like she’s from Canterlot, but her accent is off, so she could be lying, but I can’t do anything about that right now because I have to be a good friend. It’s also very strange for her to walk all this way, unless she’s hiding something. The only thing I know about her is her name, Missy Starling. Which doesn’t ring any bells, but she approached my home specifically, so she must want something of me.”
“I’m also could possibly be tired of being a Princess, with no duties except being the resident princess. Not only do all of my friends have working lives to attend to - which makes my own life appear stagnant - but now I’ve got ponies trying to be my friends, just so they can get things out of me.” Twilight laughed, but it rang with a bitter sound.
“As if I’m rich, or can grant power or authority! Everypony knows you have to petition with the Day or Evening Courts for something like that, within reason of course. Otherwise it’s a sad fact that you have to either work your way there, or be born in the right family. Which brings up other issues, I mean, here I am, just me! But everypony sees me as the prime example of the intersecting nature of magic and fate, as well as a figurehead for the right breeding in the right place at the right time - and you know what? I think I’m fine. Just fine. I’m just very, very tired right now. How late is it? It feels very late.”
Spike was silent.
“Aside from that, has it been raining?” Twilight asked.
“Uh, yeah, earlier,” Spike said.
“Good. One thing confirmed,” Twilight said. “Maybe in the morning I’ll send Celestia a letter, asking if the name Missy Starling means anything to her or the guards.” A pause. “Of course, not that I’m jumping to conclusions or anything. I’m sure our guest isn’t an escaped criminal.”
“You might also want to ask her if there’s any way to enforce a royal act of no soliciting at your castle, or something,” Spike suggested. “ That way ponies don’t waste your time.”
“I was actually thinking of putting up a barrier that induced truthfulness,” Twilight mused. “And an enchantment on myself which did the same. But the issue is, creating anything like that would be considered unlawful psychological manipulation, as well as a breach of personal privacy. I’ll need to ask Celestia if it would only be unlawful on the grounds if the truthfulness were compulsory. Regardless, I can’t just become a hermit again, and avoid ponies entirely just because of a few bad eggs.”
“You could wear a disguise?” Spike suggested.
Twilight pursed her lips. “I might seriously consider that. But I’m not being the Masked Matterhorn.” She shot him a look.
“I was going to suggest… The… Spider-mare?” He managed.
“Probably not,” Twilight smiled. “Scooch.” Spike moved over, allowing Twilight to stand up, stretching her legs.
“Good talk, Spike,” Twilight said, as she spent a couple moments flexing her wings. Spike had been sitting close to her right wing, so she was extra certain to straighten the feathers with her magic, just to be safe.
“It’s what I’m here for,” The dragon smiled. “Can I finish the comic book, or do I have to clean up now?”
“Cleaning now is best,” Twilight answered. “Oh. and could you also carry Missy’s bags to her room? I think she has two.”
“Can I say no?” Spike asked.
“Spike,” Twilight said, “You’re my assistant. My number one assistant? The one I can always count on? Remember?”
The little dragon scowled. “I know you’re not teasing, even though you’re making it seem like it,” He told her. “You seriously won’t let up until I agree.”
“Right.” Twilight nodded. “So get to it.”
“Fine,” Spike grumbled, and let out a long, exaggerated sigh, before going to the door that would lead to the main hall. He paused to let Twilight unlock it with her magic. From across the room, she could hear him muttering about the state of their mop.
“If you have any trouble, just let me know,” Twilight called. “I’m going to make some tea and wait to hear from our guest. Just bring her to the dining room.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Commotion outside; clacking hooves and thumping bags, perhaps that was Twilight’s assistant? It didn’t matter to Starling. The door was locked, the oils and soaps were in the bath, and the faucets were running at a roar. If anyone had questions, she could ignore them. No one could disturb her until she was ready.
The plum-colored mare shifted lower into the tub, inhaling the hot, lavender-scented fog wafting around the room. Perish the very thought of interruption. It had taken her forever to get in. First she had to undress - and that had been ghastly, when half of her clothing was shredded or dissolved, if not vanished altogether - and next she had to fix her hooves.
It would have been a horror story to anyone else, to find several large, burrowing beetles in all that muck, but truthfully she’d felt joy, and hoped her accidental companions hadn’t minded. After all, it hadn’t been stones, and her hooves were all ready a mess from banging into everything on the way down. Just grass, moss, twigs, mud and beetles. Hopefully the little things appreciated their own tiny spa in the sink - from the chirping, the beetles were either horrified or delighted. The water wasn’t much to bother their spiracles, and she had washed some of the moss to soak a bit up and give them some comfort, so she wasn’t worried.
She sighed again, shifting in the water. How did the castle even have plumbing? Of course if she wondered about that alone, she’d also have to ask the second-most obvious question, which was, why was a crystal tree bigger on the inside? Magic, obviously, but that was the what, not the how. She could practically feel the currents of energy about this place. Being in the tub at the moment, in the nude, she imagined purification and healing processes at work while she soaked her poor body.
It would have been nice to break down and dissolve completely instead, too. Then she wouldn’t have to be a problem to anyone. Her consciousness could flow away, down the drain, while her body was dead to the world, not even food for the birds. It was strangely peaceful to think that, mostly because it wouldn’t ever happen.
Eventually Starling realized, as she felt her body being to sweat - she needed to bathe and scrub herself. The loofah and the soap, the shampoo and conditioner, were all there. She suspected this was the princess’s own bathroom, if the mother-of-pearl clouds and sun-stone sun and stars adorning the walls were anything to go by, contrasting the natural refraction of light through the cloudy blue and purple hued crystal walls, and the paler crystal that made up the tub, toilet, and sink. Even the towel rod was crystal. It was mesmerizing and dreamy.
She hadn’t expected to stay, only ask several questions. At the thought of speaking to Princess Twilight Sparkle, her stomach twisted into knots. It took a few deep breaths and the practiced state of thinking of nothing at all, that let the pain fade. She maintained her concentration and slowly went through the complete process of getting clean, ensuring she missed nothing. The princess wanted her to be clean and well, and she would promise that. If only burrs weren’t such a pain.
After an eternity, Starling emerged from the bathroom through waves of steam, toweled off and feeling much better, hair combed with thin, lacy yellow ribbons tied up in her mane and tail. She felt satisfied she wouldn’t be completely naked when she spoke to the princess. And she would be calling her Twilight of course, ye-
Her body made a wonderful flip when she tripped over something, landing on her back, hard.
“Eh-gh - Wha? Oh, finally! Jeeze, you took forever. You must be Missy, right?”
Starling’s eyes were squeezed shut, feeling aching pain radiate up and down her back, into the back of her head, making her nauseated and dizzy. Heat tingled along the frayed nerves of her body, shifting in turn to icy cold as the heat from the bathroom dispersed.
“My naeme is Starling, act’ally, and I’m in pain,” She told the speaker quietly. “But that’s okay. I’m in pain a lot.”
“Oh, really? Is that what you came to talk to Twilight about? Here, lemme help.”
Starling extended a hoof so she could be pulled up, but to her surprise, she felt herself being rolled over by something other than hooves. Felt like claws, actually. She refused to turn her head until she had slowly arisen from there on her own, and adjusted her ribbons.
Large, emerald green eyes stared up at her, deep-reaching and veined. Dusky purple scales form-fit the hide, arranged like a fish but shrinking in size the further up or further down one went, shaped more like stippling or bars where the belly, under-arms, and dewlap were concerned. Sharp looking scutes and spines, semi-translucent fins.
“A dragon. That makes sense,” Starling said, taking him in. “Ye’re her assistant, aren’ch you?”
The dragon took a bow. “That’s right! Spike at your service. Twilight was waiting for you downstairs by the way, but she might have fallen asleep by now.”
Starling’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t - I...Ah.”
Spike began to walk off and she followed, timidly.
“You took a long time, but you probably needed to, I get it,” Spike said. He looked back at her, and moved to waddle at her side. “Did you really hoof it straight from Canterlot?”
Starling could only smile and make a strange sound. “Aeh.”
“Why’d you do it?” Spike asked.
“Do what?”
“This whole coming here -” He covered his mouth as he yawned. “ - Thing.”
Starling hummed at that. “A change of pace,” She said slowly, quietly. “Some questions, some answers. Some clarification on how magic worked. Isn’t her talent, magic?”
Spike focused more on the path they were walking than directly at her, though he scratched his head and grunted that he’d heard her. He sounded uncomfortable.
“Spike?” Starling asked.
“Okay, so here’s the thing,” The dragon said, huffing a sigh. “Magic can mean a lot of different stuff to a lot of different ponies, and other folks. There’s so much that magic can be, that the possibilities of what Twilight’s talent really means are completely endless.” He glanced at her. “That also means that whatever her talent can be, then whatever Twilight herself can be to all those people, too. But that’s just not realistic, you get me?”
Starling hummed in acknowledgement.
“Twilight’s just a pony,” Spike continued. “She doesn’t like to admit it, because she tries so hard, but she’s not good at everything. And she can’t answer every question ponies ask of her, or know what to do.”
“So she’s not a fortune-teller,” Starling murmured.
“Not at all,” Spike agreed. “And she might act all composed and perfect, but really, everything just...Gets to her. Sometimes not even she knows what to do.” He paused. “Hey, don’t tell her I’m telling you this. It’s just a warning.”
“I won’t,” Starling promised softly. “Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“What d’you think Twilight’s talent is?”
“Eh, well, I want to say “solving problems”, because that’s what Twilight likes to do, and that’s a part of what makes her who she is. She sees something wrong and analyzes the hay out of it, and can come up with so many ways to fix it,” Spike said.
“But - you know,” The dragon continued, “If I were to say in big official letters, that’s what it was, then ponies would still get the wrong idea about her, and it’s the same issue as before, pretty much. So I’m gonna say, “being a bookworm”, because Twilight learned everything she knows from books, and she loves books and learning more than anything else in the world.”
Spike smirked at her, rather smugly. “Say, is that something you were going to ask? About cutie-marks and talents, and junk? I noticed you don’t have your’s - Which isn’t a big deal, I just noticed, it’s completely cool with me!” He cried, when her two-toned, pale-teal tail draped itself over her flank, completely mortified.
Starling struggled to gulp past a lump in her throat. “Can- eh, never-mind.”
“What is it?” Spike asked.
Starling shook her head. “I was about to ask...But, has any of my clothing survived the trip?”
“Uh. Well. One bag was completely empty-” He ignored her bugging eyes for now - “And the other had clothes all wet and smelly, so we’re washing them.”
“The empty bag,” Starling swallowed. “It din’t have a cat in it?”
“A cat?” Spike’s eyes widened. “You brought a cat all the way here?”
“Her name’s Nicodemus, and she’s mah other half,” Starling whispered, struggling to not think about how her heart was suddenly in Tartarus and it was hard to breathe. Or, how horrified Spike’s face looked, or how sharp his teeth were.
“She’s a varry good cat,” Starling continued, “A-and if she isn’t inside, she’s prolly outside waitin’ to be let in. Maybe. Maybe you shouldn’ worry, she might find me herself.”
“I’ll start looking for her while you’re talking to Twilight,” Spike said with a small smile. “Relax, it’s what friends are for.”
“Righ’. Friends,” Starling agreed, wheezing and nodding. “She’s a brown-striped cat with white paws and a pink nose. Okay?”
“Got it,” Spike affirmed. “Relax, Star, really. Oh, and she’s right in that door.” He pointed for her.
She turned and saw where they had come to, and nodded. Before she meant to grab the handle, she whispered a quick, “thank you.” Spike waved and left.
Once she opened the door, Starling heard snoring in the candle-lit, dark room. A look behind her told her that Spike was already gone, leaving her to fend for herself. The nausea that had been building since she got there returned in full force. She couldn’t do this. Wake the princess?
Starling’s hooves shuffled inside, the door closing shut quietly behind her, while her mind and stomach reeled. Her head felt hot all of a sudden, and her chest felt numb.
Lie, or tell the truth? Part of the truth or the full truth? Dare she risk alienation, horror, and betrayal? Was it possible to offend the princess? Sure she was told to speak to her, but she was alseep - which meant she had to wake her up - but what if it was a trap? There had been so many other occasions which had burned their familiarity into her, filled with the disgust and annoyance of other ponies. Even her own family wasn’t excluded from that bunch.
She took a seat a few chairs away.
Twilight had fallen asleep at the impressively long dining table while reading something - or at second glance, several somethings - with her hooves folded up, obscuring her face. Her wings draped from either side, just missing the floor in length at their utmost relaxed. Not so graceful snores, surprising the mare, resounded from where the princess’s face was tucked away.
This was the Princess Twilight Sparkle. She was the savior of Equestria, element of Magic, and the strategist of the “Mane Six”. She even had a dragon as her personal assistant! Returning lost kingdoms, resurrecting princesses from their inner darkness, saving all of magic itself? Twilight was the hero of every pony in Equestria. She was beautiful, smart, and powerful.
Looking at her now, watching the firelight dance over her lavender coat, Starling could imagine the sheer wealth of magic and experience tucked away in her small body. The vision was heightened by the shimmer of light refracting from the four large clear-crystal candelabras.
She was also - as Starling discovered, feeling a lump in her throat - the master of the “fake laugh”, and “polite interest”. This meeting was just another way of being nice, an allowance to a lowly earth-pony. Calling her Twilight? Just fanservice.
There. There was no way to impress her, Starling thought with a heated sigh. They were galaxies apart in their reality. She breathed again, gasping for air. Her eyes fell from the chandelier to the sleeping alicorn, paralyzed with indecision.
Minutes ticked by, while Starling got used to the sight. Once the knots in her stomach lessened, and the heat in her head had gone, she was relatively calm, if a bit sweaty.
Just take her at face value, Starling decided. Make that her prison. She’s just a pony after all. Be cool.
Starling got up and gently rubbed Twilight’s foreleg with her hoof.
“Twiligh’?” Starling asked softly. “You wanted to speak t’ me, but would it be better if we went to bed?”
Twilight grunted and wiggled away from her touch. “Mmmuh.”
Starling blinked. “Twi-light,” She chided. “You have your responsibilities Ah understand, but’chou need your rest too.” She could remember how her mother sounded using this tone, patient and kind. It surprised Starling how much they sounded exact.
“I have a spell to finish, Spike,” Came the sleepy response. “And a letter to write.”
No mention of her. Starling was crestfallen, but she continued. “You can do that in the morning.”
“Okay fine, Spike, I’ll go.” Twilight opened her eyes into a squint at her. Starling watched those eyes widen in horror.
“Oh. Oh my, this was very unprofessional of me,”Twilight said, sitting upright. “I must have spent so long waiting, I must have fallen asleep!” Her eyes flicked elsewhere, and Starling followed them to the clock. When she looked back, Twilight was smoothing her hair with her hooves, and wearing a gentle, pristine smile. To Starling’s amazement, Twilight’s eyes had dark shadows under them, and close up, appeared bloodshot.
“Now,” Twilight said, putting her hooves together. “What did you want to talk about?”
Starling stared at the huge, fake grin and pleading eyes. This was too surreal. Princesses weren’t ponies you could catch off guard so easily. They didn’t fall asleep on you. They didn’t wake up… Begging to maintain the order.
They certainly didn’t pretend nothing happened. Or expect you to believe their masks and false words.
Starling felt heat well up inside her, just as an icy chill pricked her spine.
An image of Celestia, timeless and radiant, appeared in her mind, at a public celebration.
And again, the alicorn’s features captured as an oil portrait framed in Starling’s living room.
The pony had known the royal figure her entire life. From images at school accompanying the same answers year after year, to countless holidays and merchandise. Always with that same face, that same practiced pose. Love and toleration, honesty and kindness - those were the words of the basic creed following Equestria’s founding.
The very same words were used against her, time and time again, by ponies who made her life miserable. Who had their own versions of the meaning behind them. Agendas with masks, everywhere, she couldn’t ever quite touch.
And now Twilight, she was the same as the rest.
“Starling?” Twilight asked, heartbeats after she had made her statement, confusion in her sleep-deprived features. One hoof shifted to lay closer in her direction. “Are you alright?”
Starling knew better than to take all of that out on Twilight. Still, she was disappointed. A rattling, gasping sigh was heard as she took a seat across from the princess. Once she was seated, she shook her head.
What to say.
“If you need help, you can tell me,” She heard Twilight say softly. “Really.”
Starling looked at the corner of the open book Twilight had been reading, and raised her hoof up to speak. She had heard the princess, after all. And that pleading voice - it made her heart break. She had no doubts that the princess was a genuinely well-intentioned pony. What she felt - that wasn’t Twilight’s responsibility.
“I have problems,” Starling heard herself say. “Many problems. Like, anxieties, problems. Nothing you can help with. Only me.”
Twilight to her credit, responded with silence, her face completely at a loss. Her eyes were wide, and Starling wasn’t sure if she was horrified or confused. The pony swallowed, but pressed on, smiling what she could at the princess.
“See, I wasn’ sure if Ah should wake you up or not,” She continued, “Because then we’d have to be doin’ this talking thing, and Ah’m not entirely ready t’ tell you everythin’ about myself. Especially when you try so hard t’ maintain an appearance when you’re clearly exhausted out of yer mind -”
“But I must be here for my subjects,” Twilight protested, in such a soft voice, Starling was shocked to have an effect. Her silence allowed Twilight to continue. “I have certain responsibilities, even if I don’t feel like it.”
“But that doesn’ mean you have to put on a fake smile n’ airs either,” Starling told her gently. “You can do yer responsibilities when you act like yourself, can’ch you?”
“Easily said than done,” Twilight sighed, massaging the bridge of her muzzle with her hooves. “Do you have any idea what’s been expected of me this week? If I were just myself, ponies wouldn’t take me seriously. Or they can take advantage of me.”
“Who takes advantage of you?” Starling asked. “You’re a princess.”
“Well, nopony yet,” Twilight admitted. “But I’ve been reading a lot of courtly documents, and while I was shielded from most of that when I was under Celestia -” Starling winced, but she didn’t notice - “now I’m equal to them, and it’s more than a teensy-bit scary what ponies can do when they want something.”
“Don’t you have friends?” Starling asked.
“Most of them are away,” Twilight admitted, “ and Pinkie Pie is busy catering for the celebration, while Rainbow is busy controlling and directing the cold fronts.”
“Maybe you can -” Starling paused, forgetting the word. “Delegate tasks t’ other residents of Ponyville. Maybe you don’t have to be the one to handle the scary ponies.”
Twilight’s eyes brightened at that. “That could be a better idea than a truth-seeking spell,” She said. “I’m surprised I didn’t think of that. But who?”
Starling smiled and chuckled at that. “I know how ya feel. Over-thinking things makes you miss the simplest options.” She blushed. “I wouldn’t know who’d be best.”
“I can figure that out,” Twilight assured her. “It will be easy to - ah!”
Starling watched - or tried to - as a brilliant magenta flash summoned a new sheet of parchment from thin air. She was still blinking back spots while Twilight wrote something down.
“Sorry,” Twilight apologized. “I had to get something down.”
“It’s okay,” Starling answered, rubbing her eyes furiously now. “It’s good to be productive.”
“Somepony who agrees!” Twilight laughed, and then yawned. “Excuse me. So what were we saying?”
“Well, aside from bed being a necessity,” Starling said before yawning herself, “You’d asked how you can help me. I’m not sure how to answer.”
“What brought you my way?” Twilight asked.
Starling would not tell her that. Not entirely.
“Mostly I was wondering if I could use yer library.” That idea had dawned on her while talking to Spike. “I want t’ research cutie-mark magic n’ biological magical processes first.”
“And then what?” Twilight asked, smiling. “My library is actually Ponyville’s library, so you’re more than happy to check something out.”
“I can’t remember, actually.” Starling smiled apologetically. “It’s really late as it is, but I’m exhausted, n’ my memory isn’t great.”
“Ah.” Twilight’s smile fell into a gently agreeing look. “We should both get our rest.”
Starling started to rise at that, grateful for release.
“Hey Starling.” Twilight’s voice caught her attention, but she refrained from looking at the alicorn as she stretched her wings.
“Yeah?”
“Has Spike showed you your room?”
“Oh, not yet,” Starling told her. “Just here.”
“Oh, okay.” Twilight yawned again. Starling jumped when her books and parchment vanished in multiple starbursts of magenta light, Twilight teleporting them elsewhere. A scooting chair told Starling that Twilight was getting up to leave.
Starling’s balance wobbled as she followed the alicorn’s silhouette, which was much easier once they were out of the dimly-lit room. Twice, Twilight surprised her with a guiding wing, which Starling flinched away from. They stopped in the main hall.
The light of chandeliers here hurt her eyes.
“Sorry,” Twilight giggled at Starling’s rubbing. “I had turned off the light in the other room to rest my eyes. Had I known how tired I was, I wouldn’t have done that. Now let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
The room turned out to be about the same size as her room at home, with crystalline walls the same hue as the ones in the bathroom Starling had used. The door opened to the sight of a four-poster canopy bed with a multicolored quilt, draped with sheer gauze. Everything was dark wood. A vanity sat in the corner from the bed, with a creme-colored cushion for the stool and a desk-lamp on the corner. A naked-looking dresser sat across from the bed, with room for a pony and a half to walk between. Two bookshelves sat next to each other on the far wall, sporting many interesting-looking titles, like “The Scarlet Pimpernel” and “Aquatic Symbiosis in the Deep”. The area rug was fluffy and white. As Starling looked around at the surprising down-to-earth nature of it, she saw several chic-looking pieces of wall art around the room, themed around apples.
“My friends, Applejack and Rarity, helped me put together this room,” Twilight said behind her. “Hopefully you’ll meet them while you’re here.”
“Hopefully,” Starling echoed.
She found her bag in the corner beside the bookcases, on the other side of the bed. No Nicodemus to be seen, but at least her things appeared to be intact. Mostly they were necessities, though she had brought a few luxuries. Her notepad was still in there. She blushed at the sight of the “Twilight Sparkle-exclusive” issue of Cosmo-Mare, buried under everything.
“I’m going to bed,” Twilight called to her from across the room. “Let me know how you do, okay? Sleep as long as you want in the morning.”
“Goodnight!” Starling called.
The door closed, leaving the mare alone with her thoughts.
Author's Note
I'm still debating Starling's coloring, so I might change a few references here and there.
