Author's Note
[Author note: This story is set when both mares are in their early 20's approximately. I only bring this up because truffles is often portrayed as a filly in art.]
The Sale
“Thank you for the ride!” Lucy chirped, dumping a few bits in the wagon’s pay jar. Technically the jar only asked for one bit per customer, and she’d already paid that, but the pegasus drivers had done such a good job that they all deserved a little extra. Plus they all seemed really sweaty and twitchy. The poor things were probably desperately overworked.
“T-thank you Ms. Lucifer!” All of them all but scrambled over each other to say.
“Oh, just call me Lucy!” She hopped off with a light giggle, and waved at them. “All of you have a wonderful day!”
Doubtless revitalized by her kindness, the team took off into the sky at double the speed they’d arrived. She watched them go, a smile on her face. Every day was full of little miracles, and she adored the fact that she was alive to treasure them. It was all she could do not to burst into song as she turned and started to skip down the street.
It was a quiet morning in Ponyville, the sun just barely beginning to peek over the rooftops. As she skipped down the empty streets, she saw the occasional pony poke their head out the window, only to pop back inside moments after she waved to them. The sight just made her bounce a little higher. It was so nice to see a town that properly valued sleep in this hustle-and-bustle world.
In fact, the only house with lights even on was Sugarcube Corner, the bright glow of the kitchen windows beckoning her on. Her skips elevating to full on flight as she neared the door, she all but burst in through the back entrance, skidding to a halt on the smooth linoleum. An instant later, she spread her magic through the room and caught the several dozen cinnamon rolls that had been hurled into the air.
“Lucy!” Truffles cheered from her upside-down position on the floor. She was every bit the picture of the diligent baker, stocky, smiling, and decidedly soft around the edges. The mere sight of her warmed Lucy’s heart as she watched Truffles slowly began to pick herself up, grunting as she tried to roll back to her hooves. “Weren’t expecting ya so early!”
“I was just so excited to start,” Lucy replied, sheepishly setting the buns back on their tray before settling them on the counter. For a moment, she was sharply aware of her own appearance, her face reflected back from the gloss of a dangling pan. Her ash white hair had been brushed into a long, flowing cascade, her horns trimmed and polished, and all four of her eyes shone with a good night’s sleep. She found herself smiling at the sight, her radiant fangs only lifting her spirits further. “Gosh! How long has it been since we last saw each other?”
“Summer Sun I’ think?” Truffles frowned as she finally righted herself, quickly dusting off her apron and setting her hat back on her head. “I’m sorry I was so busy. Feels like we barely got t’ say hi!”
“It’s okay, I was busy too.” Lucy rolled her eyes and pulled Truffles into a quick hug, the much smaller pony squeaking as she was squeezed.
“Stars you’re strong!” Truffles managed to wheeze before Lucy dropped her with a blush. “You been workin’ out?”
“Oh goodness no!” Lucky giggled, pulling an apron and hat off the hooks for herself. “Just been helping out with the public housing projects. It’s been hard getting funding from the crowns what with… well, Tartarus, but I’m sure once they see our first apartments they’ll reexamine my proposal!”
“You’re buildin’ public housing?” Truffles turned back to her batches of dough, beginning to knead a new set of rolls.
“Oh yes! When you think about it, Tartarus is a wonderful environment for low-income housing.” Lucy said, picking up several globs of dough herself and beginning to knead them in her magic. Her motions were not nearly so deft as Truffles’, but she did her best to keep pace by working in sets. “The climate is perfectly stable, and being converted from prison purposes means that it’s already built with security in mind!” She bit her lip. “The landscape could use work, but I’m already sending out letters looking for talented arborists. With a lot of work and a little hope, I can see us making Tartarus a shining example of civic development!”
“My word,” Truffles shook her head. “You’re always so busy! How do ya do it?”
“Bah!” Lucy gently set down her completed dozen of rolls. “I just love the work. Seeing the smiles on ponies faces, it makes it all worth it.”
“Ohhh, I know what you mean.” Truffles smiled, her grin lighting up the room just that much more. “The moment a pony bites int’a perfectly baked cupcake, an’ their faces just glow.”
“I know! It’s the best!” Lucy glanced around the kitchen, Truffles’ choice of words suddenly making something blindingly aparrent. “Say, where’s Cupcake, isn’t she helping?”
“Uh…” Truffles was silent a moment. “She finished ‘r batches yesterday so she could… spend the mornin’ with Pandora.”
“Oh.” Lucy glanced down, suddenly noticing that her latest batch of rolls had become twisted into remarkably tortured shapes, their spirals torn and jagged. Biting her lip, she tried to fold the twists out so she could start over, but no matter how she tried the deformities only got worse.
“Oh, hay!” Truffles scooted over, accidentally stumbling into Lucy as she reached up to snatch the would be rolls out of the air. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t a’ distracted you. Here, you start a new batch and I’ll…” She started to meddle with the rolls, trying her best to salvage them herself.
“How…” Lucy picked up a new batch, and started working them back into spirals, though the lines kept coming out crooked. “How is she doing these days?”
“She’s mighty happy!” Truffles replied, almost too quickly, her eyes fixed on the rolls. “She and Pandora keep talkin’ about havin’ foals. Well, she is. Panny mostly just sweats and makes excuses,” she giggled softly, “an’ smiles when she thinks nopony’s looking.”
“Good for them.” Lucy managed a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sure... “
“Sure what?” Truffles glanced over, her roles momentarily forgotten as worry creased her face.
“Sorry, nothing. Letting my mind wander again.” Sure enough, the buns had been torn up along their folds, the kneading growing too rough for the dough. Lucy took a deep, slow breath, and let it out, her smile finally reaching her eyes. “I’m pretty terrible at this, huh?”
“Oh, so was I!” Truffles laughed, before stopping dead as she felt the weight settle back into the room. “...oh, I…”
“No, no, I really, I should move past it.” Again Lucy took a deep breath, and set her face in a stern line as she let it out slowly. A moment later, a proper smile blossomed on her lips. “Every day is a new day!”
“It is indeed!” Truffles said, her own uncertainty melting away. “Oh, haybales! Look at the time! We still need another two hundred rolls!”
“Then let’s make it happen!” Lucy nodded, clapping her cloven hooves together in determination.
“I think I’m dying,” Truffles moaned, her head slumped against the sale stall. “I never ever thought I’d ever hate cinnamon. Is that wrong?” She turned her big, moist eyes up towards Lucy. “Is it wrong for a baker ta’ hate cinnamon?”
“Awwwww,” Lucy leaned over, gently stroking Truffle’s curly, flour caked mane. “You go ahead and take a break.”
“But, but, cinnamon always goes with apples! Cinnamon is like anotha’ kind of apple!” She whimpered even as Lucy picked her up and carried her back into Sugarcube Corner. “How can an apple hate cinnamon? What will Peachy say? What will Magnolia say?”
“They will not care,” Lucy giggled, setting Truffles down in one of the soft upholstered booths. “I think anypony can be forgiven a little exhaustion after all the work you did.”
“But you did just as…” Truffles tried to rise, only to find a cloven hoof pushing her back down.
“Rest!” Lucy commanded with all the force of a pat on the head. “The charity's running all day. You can come back and help when you’re all rested up.”
“Well alright,” Truffles finally conceded. “I don’t reckon I could stand looking at them rolls any longer anyway.”
Lucy merely giggled and stepped back outside. By now, the sun had risen and most of the town along with it. The streets were packed to the brim with ponies, to the point where Lucy couldn’t help but smile. The town looked so alive and cheerful, like something out of a coloring book.
Grinning brightly, she trotted over to the stand and plopped herself behind it. Within minutes, she saw ponies turning their attention towards it. Not many smiled. In fact, the vast majority seemed almost perturbed by the stall, skirting away from it, and pulling their foals close.
Lucy frowned and trotted out from behind the stall, taking a look at it from in front. The wood was beautifully painted in a soft lavender, the words “Shining Light Literacy Foundation” done up in sparkling pink. She leaned in and eyed the rolls and fritters and cupcakes with scrutiny, but found no apparent flaw with them. She took one and quickly popped it in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. They tasted as good as they smelled, though they were a bit sweeter than was probably good for her teeth. She’d have to make sure and brush extra after dinner.
So, the problem obviously had to be her.
She closed her eyes, and drew a slow breath in and out. If it was her, then there was nothing for it but to keep on at it. Truffles needed a good rest, and she wouldn’t haul her out just to present a ‘friendlier’ face to the crowd. Instead, she simply trotted back behind the stall, put on her best smile, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
“Lucy!” Her ears perked at the familiar voice, and if her smile could have become any more sincere, it would have.
“Twilight!” She waved wildly to her approaching friend, prompting much of the town to intensify its starting. “Glad you could make it!”
“How could I not? Literacy is one of the most important issues facing foals today!” She trotted around behind the stall and gave Lucy a quick hug. “How are your parents doing?”
“Oh, fine!” Lucy giggled, squeezing Twilight in return. “You know how it is. Papa Tiri still goes on about how he’s just biding his time, but personally I think he’s just shy about how attached he is to his garden.” She gave Twilight a playful nudge. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about unless his geraniums miraculously stop needing every minute of his tender loving care.”
“Of course.” Twilight glanced around, and picked up the second seat beside Lucy. “And Sombra?”
“Oh, well he doesn’t even keep up the pretense!” She waved a hoof dismissively. “Right now he’s working on his autobiography. He’s on his third draft. Actually…” She glanced both ways and subtly flared her horns’ magic. Beneath the table, a fire ringed pit of abyssal darkness opened, and from it emerged a tome bound in darkness with the texture of skin. Lucy carefully passed it to Twilight with a whisper. “He’d like your input. Off the record of course.”
“Oooohhh,” Twilight could barely restrain her squeal of delight. “Let me just bundle this off to the private bookshelf.” She teleported it away in a flash, before glancing around guiltily. “Does it go into detail?”
“Purely family friendly,” Lucy laughed, even as Twilight rolled her eyes and blushed. “But very sweet. I actually think Fluttershy might enjoy it too.”
“Well, I’ll see if I can’t get her expert opinion as well.” The two shared a quick giggle, before Twilight’s eyes took stock of the situation more critically. “Looks like you… still have a lot of rolls.”
“Oh, I’m just a terrible salespony!” Lucy dismissed with a laugh. “Really I just helped with the baking. Once Truffie’s back on her hooves, I’m sure things will pick up.”
“I see,” Twilight smiled, but there was sadness behind her eyes. “I’m really proud of you for doing this. I’ve never met such a helpful soul in my life.”
“Don’t thank me,” Lucy smiled back. “I do it because I love it.”
“Thank you anyway.” Twilight leaned in for one last quick hug. “I wish I could stay, but Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns is hosting a discussion on how best to foster friendships within the student body, and…” She shrugged. “Technically it’s not for hours, but I want to get there before Eerie starts… inventing curriculum.”
“Ah,” was all Lucy said.
“But, before I go,” Twilight grinned and flashed her horn, conjuring a small stack of bits. “Gimme a roll for the road?”
“I’ll give you two,” Lucy said, winking as she dropped two in a bag. Of course, Twilight had paid for seven, but they both knew that wasn’t the point.
“Thanks. I’m sure things will pick up.” With that, Twilight spread her wings, and left Lucy to tend her stand.
“I’m sure the will!” Lucy shouted after her, her voice bright and full of hope. She settled back to her seat, her expression cheerful and light even as ponies continued to give the stand a wide berth. She kept on smiling, right up until a single colt the color of coal tar trotted up with two bits, and asked for an apple fritter.
And things picked up from there.
By the time Truffles stepped out the front door, Lucy barely noticed. Even her magic was working double time to keep up with the steady stream of customers, her mouth doing the same as it tried to bargain, laugh, and gossip all at once. Even overstocked as it had been in the morning, the stand was nearing empty and it was only lunch. When finally notice Truffles, she was struck by the expression of awe on her face.
“Cockatrice got your tongue?” Luca laughed, slapping the seat beside her. “Come on! I’m drowning out here!”
“O-of course!” Truffles scurried over, and quickly started exchanging bits for treats as well, picking up what slack she could. Within minutes, she found herself laughing along with everypony, a grin perpetually plastered to her face. “How do ya’ do it?” she finally asked Lucy between waves of customers.
“Do what?” Lucy asked, still smiling as absently tallied their remaining inventory on a clipboard.
“You’re always winnin’.” Truffles answered, reverence in her voice. “I was… watchin’ you. Ain’t proper I know, an’ I thought about coming out, when I saw nopony was coming. But you jus’ sat there an’ kept smiling. And it weren’t one of them fake sad smiles like Prima gets whenever she sees my wardrobe. Ya’ looked… happy, even though nopony would come and buy. An’ ya’ just... never stopped bein’ happy, until they up and did start buyin’.”
“Truffles,” Lucy said, setting down her little clipboard. “All I do is see myself the way I want to be seen. I wanted to make this bake sale a success, and so I saw myself running a successful bake sale. At that point, why wouldn’t I be happy?”
“But ya’ weren’t succeedin’.” Truffles frowned.
“Totally immaterial!” Lucy waved her hoof.
“That don’t sound quite right to me.” Truffles frowned, before glancing down at the empty trays of sweets.
“See, Truffie,” Lucy smiled brightly, giving Truffles an affectionate bonk on the head. “Everyone thinks it’s crazy to think they’re succeeding when they’re not. But what’s the opposite? If you think you’re failing, then you’re going to see yourself as a failure. The bake sale doesn’t become about how many you sold,” She tapped her hoof on the empty space on the trays, before moving over to the rolls still remaining. “It’s about how many didn’t sell. You see?”
“Not… quite?” Truffles hazarded, continuing to frown.
“Right now, I could bum out about how I still have a third of our rolls left to sell.” She shrugged. “I could sit here, and mope and sulk about it, and even if I sold one, I’d just mope about the other thirty I didn’t. If you think you’re a failure, you’re going to justify that failure. Everything you do becomes a failure, and you do everything in your power to fail.” She nodded resolutely. “So I choose to be a success! A success who needs to get more rolls.”
“O-oh, no, let me,” Truffles hastened to get up, only for Lucy to wave her down with a wink.
“Nah, it’s your turn to peddle for a bit!” She swept back into sugarcube corner.
Only to run smack dab into Cupcake.
Technically, she was across the room, rooting around the kitchen, but it felt like Lucy had gotten the wind knocked out of her on the spot. She stumbled mid-skip, her hooves clattering on the wood. In response, Cupcake looked up, and did the one thing that Lucy hoped in all the world she wouldn’t. Cupcake jumped.
“O-oh, hey Cupcake.” Lucy immediately looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d come back.”
“Forgot my whisk.” Cupcake said simply, the waver almost completely absent from her voice.
Lucy looked up, and it was like jamming a red hot knife in her heart, her blood boiling even as her pulse seized. Though Cupcake stood soldier-straight, the tip of her wisk vibrated with suppressed tremors. There were other signs too, the way her normally small pupils sat at pinprick size, how her eyes were just a little too wide, the crouched tension in her hind legs. Each little thing twisted the blade even further.
“Cupcake, I…” Lucy took a step forward, guilt and rage splitting her in two. She lifted her hoof towards Cupcake, uncertain what she even intended to do.
Like a flash Cupcake was out the door and running, tearing that knife out of Lucy’s heart as she went.
She stood there, the joy of the morning pouring out of her like blood upon the floor. She glanced down at the wood beneath her hooves, and became aware of just how new it was. But of course it would be new. She’d ruined the old floor, the last time Cupcake had looked at her like that.
She numbly turned back towards the front door, barely feeling her hoofsteps as she watched the floor pass beneath her. Just before she reached the door, she could see the line where new planks joined with old. The divide she had helped create. She pushed open the door without crossing it, looking up just high enough to see Truffles’ hooves outside.
“I’m…” She swallowed, trying to lift her head and smile, but it was like stretching canvas across a skull. “I’m gonna take five. You just…”
She turned and ran. Truffles had no hope of catching her, not when she didn’t want to be caught. Those sweet, stubby, innocent little legs stood no chance of competing with her own limber strides. However, what she didn’t expect, was that they didn’t have to.
She was a twenty feet out the door when she heard the crash. Her head whipped on a swivel, and her eyes found Truffles halfway out the door, on her back, her hooves nursing what looked like a broken nose. Lucy dug in and whipped a one eighty before she could think, rushing back to her friend’s side. She skidded to a halt, and picked her up frantically.
“Truffles, are you okay?” She gently pulled Truffles’ hooves away, examining her face, and finding only a busted lip.
“I’m phine.” Truffles frowned at her, before reaching out suddenly and trapping her in a hug. “Are you okay?”
The question brought back the entire scene from moments before, but this time, she had her dear Truffles wrapped around her neck. There was nowhere to run. She felt her eyes tearing up even as her knees dropped her to the ground. And then she began to cry.
“Shhhhh,” Truffles cooed, stroking her mane. “It’s all fine.”
“No, it’s not.” Lucy pulled Truffles back into a reciprocal hug. “She’s still afraid of me, even after all these years. One look, and we’re right back there.”
“I know,” Truffles slowly pulled Lucy into her shoulder, letting her cry into her fur. “It ain’t your fault.”
“It’s completely my fault,” she whimpered. “And she’s completely right.”
“No, she ain’t,” Truffles said. “You were just a kid.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Lucy squeezed her tighter. “I’d still have done it. Even today. As soon as I saw her, I wasn’t just ashamed, I was angry.”
“Really?” Truffles whispered.
Lucy nodded mutely.
For the longest time, they sat in silence.
“Why?” Truffles finally asked. “Why do you still care so much, after all these years?”
“She made you cry.” Was all Lucy said, as though that was all the explanation that was needed.
“I…” Truffle’s jaw dropped. “That’s why?”
“Of course,” Lucy said. “She had no right.”
“She was just tryin’ to teach--” Truffles began.
“I don’t care!” Lucy snapped, all delicacy in her voice replaced with a guttural snarl from the darkness. “She had no right and she never will! Today, tomorrow, or a hundred years ago, I’d do it again!” She squeezed Truffles tighter. “You never deserve to cry. Not for anything.”
“I…” Truffles just sat there, a hot flush rising to her cheeks. “Mighty flatterin’, but really, I was just…”
“But nothing.” At long last, Lucy looked up, locking tearstained eyes with Truffles, and holding her gaze fast. “You’re special. You’re kind and sweet and adorably soft and warm and you see things nopony else sees and…”
Her words died in her mouth, a hot flush on her cheeks, matched only by Truffle’s own.
After a heartbeat that stretched to eternity, they kissed. It wasn’t a sweeping thing, not a dive into passion or a ride down the rapids. It was hesitant, soft, a glint of spider’s silk in the summer’s sun. A whisper of a touch, barely seen and less felt, but all the more striking for it. It was the fallen pin louder than any thunderclap.
“Oh, stars!” Truffle looked away suddenly, her cheeks even redder than Lucy’s, her face trying its best to fight a smile into a panicked frown, and failing utterly. “Oh gosh, oh wow, oh heavens--”
“Shhhh,” Lucy just pulled her close, snuggling her so tightly that all her protests ended in a startled squeak. “Just answer me one thing, Truffie?”
“Y-yes?” Truffles managed, shivering simply from the hammering of her own heart.
“Did you like it?” Lucy asked.
Slowly, Truffles darkened to a blush so hot it was a wonder she didn’t ignite. Her head bowed so low that even her poofy mane hid her eyes. Her hooves rubbed against each other as though she were trying to wash them but had forgotten how. And all the while, she could never truly fight down the smile on her face.
“Yes.”
“Yay!” Before Truffle knew what hit her, she had Lucy’s lips on her cheek. In the next instant, she was perched on Lucy’s back between her wings, being carried out the front, bouncing along with every skip of her hooves.
“W-wait!” She tried to flail about, prompting Lucy to glance back at her. “W-we can’t, not just, I mean…”
“Truffie,” Lucy pressed a wing to Truffles’ chin, making her meet her gaze. It was warm and dark as a campfire at night. “Can’t we? Or do you think we can’t?”
“I…” And then, like glass breaking, the doubt fell away from her face. She reached forward and grabbed Lucy into a kiss that made both her wings pop out to the sides. She held her there in that perfect moment, then pulled away her back a little straighter and a confident light in her eyes. “I think we can.”
“Then,” Lucy said, grinning and blushing like a fool. “Let’s go make it happen.”
Together, they stepped back out into the day.
And sold every last roll.
