It's been several days since I spoke with the Princess.

During that time, I worked hard at my recovery. Every night at the same time, I'd get out of bed, practice my breathing, my stretches, my exercises. Progress was long and painful, but I forced myself through it.

I told myself to endure, and I did.

Of course, I did all this in secret. I needed the nurses and guards to think I was hurt. If they knew I was well enough to do sit ups, push ups, bucks, they'd double the security and put me under constant surveillance in an instant.

It was tricky with the hoofcuff. I had to stay on or close to the bed as I did my exercises. The first night, I tried getting out and nearly toppled the bed on top of me. When my night nurse, Jack Fiddle, arrived, I lied and told him I was trying to go to the bathroom.

He didn't seem to buy my story. But he didn't seem to have other explanations either.

The following nights, I did my exercises on the bed, and it worked well enough.

My ruse didn't mean I couldn't be stubborn though. Especially to my nurse, Snow Ball.

I met Snow Ball the day I met the Princess. She was the nurse who pulled the curtains the other day. After the few days we spent together, she still failed to grow a spine.

Every morning, she would arrive at my bed precisely at dawn. She'd knock on the door, apologize profusely, then carry in a tray of food with her head bowed. She would do the same with lunch, then rotate with Jack Fiddle later in the evening.

How could she live like that? Submissive and weak all the time?

I don't imagine she acted differently outside the hospital. She seemed like the type who would give into any pony who bumped into her, into any demand no matter how outrageous. It made me sick how weak she was, how subservient she's been.

Doesn't she know ponies can take advantage of that?

I almost did it myself. Manipulated her shyness. Scared her senseless. If not for entertainment, than to show her what happens when you were so scared. Perhaps she'd learn something from it. Perhaps she'd change. A small part of me hoped she would.

I could never bring myself to do it though.

It would have been so easy. Shattering her spirits. Destroying her trust. Showing her the world wasn't the kind, innocent place she thought it was. I wanted to show her it was hard. It was full of pain, jealousy, and suffering.

Maybe that's why I didn't do it. It was such a piece of cake, I didn't need to try.

In the back of my mind though, I knew the real reason. Some ponies can't change. I saw it in the camps, the Storm Guard, and now here in the hospital. That's just the way some ponies are born. They don't have the capacity to change.

Those who can't change however, die.

It was hopeless to try to toughen her. Instead, I entertained myself in other ways. An extra few minutes in the bath. Having her bring me more pillows. Another order of delicious hospital ice cream. To my surprise, she tolerated it well.

Sometimes she spoke up, called me with a meek, "T-Tempest... it's time to get out now."

"N-no more ice cream. You had enough."

"Time to sleep, please."

I ignored her. Or at least, ignored her until I was satisfied. I didn't even want all the ice cream I asked for. The rebellion was sweet enough.

By the second day however, a question began to loom. Why did Snow Ball keep coming back?

There were plenty of nurses around. Plenty who were far less tolerant than Snow Ball. Jack Fiddle, for example, was a tall, buff earth pony with a stare that could melt stone. I knew not to act up around him. I wanted him to think I was harmless.

So why did she return?

When the third night came around, my curiosity grew too strong. As Jack did his routine inspection of the room, the window, my hoofcuff, I spoke to him.

"Hey Jack," I said. My words were tinged with a half-sarcastic, half-sexy voice.

He didn't answer. I continued anyways.

"It's such a shame Snow Ball is assigned to me," I said with a yawn. "She must be dying to exchange patients with some pony."

His lips twitched. His brow furrowed, then returned neutral.

"Pity," I continued. "Mare that weak, she must ask every pony for help. Say, who was the one who assigned her to me in the first place? I must have some pony to thank for a pathetic nurse."

The sound Jack made was a mix between a gruff and a laugh. "Ya think Snow Ball puts up with you 'cuz she was assigned? Of course ya do. Typical."

My smile faded. "What?"

Jack sighed. "Snow Ball ain't stupid, ya know. She knows you're playing her. That you're pickin' on her 'cuz you think she's weak."

I glared daggers at him. "She is weak," I said. "It's as clear as day."

"Tell me then," he said, then turned to face me. "If she's so weak, why does she show up every day, hmm? Why is she always at yer side, precisely at dawn?" His voice was rising now, like the rumble of an earthquake. I fell silent.

"Why does she fulfill every request you've made?" he asked. "Every trick you've played?"

"I'll give you a hint: it's not because she likes you," he said, then stormed out of the room.

I continued sitting there as he left. My cheeks were hot, my chest tight. I wasn't intimidated by him. At least, that's what I told myself.

Then why did I feel so strange?

I spent the rest of the night taking apart his words. There was nothing to do but exercise, so why not?

When I realized why Snow Ball was so nice, I stopped giving her a hard time. I still didn't agree with her personality, or how much of a pushover she was.

I knew why she returned every day though.

So there my routine was: play weak during the day, work out during the night. The doctors must have suspected something however, as on the fourth day, Snow Ball arrived with two Royal Guards. I was in the middle of my lunch, spooning mouthfuls of spiced lentil soup.

"Tempest Shadow," the guardspony said. "Put your lunch away. We're leaving."

A frown came across my lips. I took another mouthful of soup. "I'm eating," I said. "Come back when I'm finished."

The other guard came around, took my food. I scowled, but didn't fight back.

"The Princesses' agreed on your sentence," he said, as he unlatched the hoofcuff around the bed. "It's time to go now."

My sentence, I thought to myself, and instantly paled. No. I needed more time, more distraction to recover further. I knew I was fit to climb, to walk, to trot. But whenever I pushed to the edge, the pain would overwhelm and paralyze me. I feared my stitches would loosen and my side would burst if I went any further.

I needed a few more days, I thought to myself. A week would be best.

The guard secured the hoofcuff around my foreleg. "Get out," he said. I saw no other option but to comply.

They let me gather my things. Or rather, what little the hospital gave that I now call 'my things'. Two sets of simple clothes. A toothbrush and some toiletries. The black coat from before. All of it looked bare and lonely stretched across my bed. When Snow Ball gave me a saddlebag to carry it all, it barely filled it halfway.

Everything I own takes less space than an over-fluffed pillow, I thought to myself.

But at least it was something.

I tossed the coat on, pulled the collars to hide my face. As I was leaving, Snow Ball stopped me a moment.

"I, uhm," she mumbled, in that sad, pathetic way she always does. "I wish I was a better nurse to you." Her eyes flicked to mine, then away.

I opened my mouth to speak, then hesitated. "You did fine," I said.

And so we parted ways.

The guards led me outside the hospital. For the first time in forever, I took in the open air.

It wasn't perfect. I could smell the dust from the debris, feel the unspoken, but tangible pain from such a ruined city. But things were looking up for Canterlot.

The columns and debris were cleared out, leaving the streets spacious and wide open. The glass was swept up, but little pieces sparkled in the dirt like diamonds. Even the hay was gone, and the path straight to the castle free. I was both happy and upset at this prospect. I wanted to be outside longer.

Or at least, until the mob showed up.

They gathered up slowly. At first, it was the odd look or two. Some of shock, some of fear. Some of hate. All of recognition.

"Hey you!" A pony cried, then began approaching us. I turned away, quickened my pace.

One of the guardsponies intercepted the stallion, told him to back off. He continued approaching. "You're her, aren't you?" he asked. "The one who caged us all up!"

More ponies turned. More ponies stared. The crowd rose in a murmur, then a grumble, like the cascade of a tidal wave. My heart throbbed faster.

"Move," the guardspony mumbled, then shoved me along. We began walking faster, weaving back and forth the street. An itch crawled up my right side, made my skin sting like a million insects. Too fast, I thought to myself. You have to slow down.

My hooves didn't listen.

As we moved faster, the crowd matched our pace. The ones in-front slowed when they saw us, while the ones in-rear sped up. The once stoic, fearless guardpony flicked his gaze to and fro. His lips creased into a frown.

I recognized the emotion instantly. The look of a cornered pony was unmistakable.

Some pony yelled at me. I turned my head, saw a mare with wild, icy-blue hair. Tears flooded her eyes.

"You!" She cried, then pointed a hoof right at me. "You're the one who brought the hurricane!"

"That's not quite true," I began. "The Storm King brought the hurricane. I merely brought him the sta-"

"Liar!"

My eyes widened. The guards were pushing me harder now, trying to usher me through a gap in the horde. I opened my mouth to speak, but she interrupted me first.

"You're the one who took my daughter!" she yelled, at the top of her lungs. "You're the one who killed her!"

The crowd fell silent. The air grew thick and heavy. Even the guards hesitated their advances, a hesitation they soon regretted. The gap that once was there sealed up, closed as the crowd grew tighter together. I whirled my head around, searched the mob for a way out.

The guards barked orders to the swarm. Their words drowned in the sea of rising voices.

Something struck my side. I turned to look at what, but another pony saw my distraction, and reared on both hind legs. He dropped himself down, slammed both forehooves into my face.

The world tilted and spun. I hit the ground hard. Warmth trickled down my muzzle.

My forehooves raised up, covered my head as I was struck twice more. The first grazed my side. The second knocked the air from my lungs. A stallion said, "Let me go! Let me go!" as I gasped and wheezed for air.

More hoofsteps. More ponies. The crowd tightened up, and cries rang out.

Cries for my blood.

I tried to roll to my hooves, but something stomped hard and firm to my face. A scream echoed out, a scream I realized was my own voice. Pain. I cursed out loud, then internally for being so weak. I could slam a pony twice my size into the dirt. A horde of prissy Canterlot folk should be nothing!

But they had numbers. They had the jump on me. My hooves were shackled, and my guts seared with every movement.

By Tartarus I'd let that stop me though. My knees coiled against my chest, then bucked hard in the direction of the stomp. Impact. Crack. Another scream, but this time, it was another pony's voice. The crowd drew a collective gasp. They pulled away.

A voice then yelled, high above all the others, that demanded an air of respect. "In the name of the Princesses, I command you all to stop!"

I lowered my hooves. A winged figure descended slowly to the ground, casting a dark shadow over the crowd. I couldn't make out who, as the sun blinded my eyes and turned the figure into a distorted mess. They must have been important though, as the entire mob was silent in awe.

Or in fear.

I sat to my hooves. The guards were at attention now, tall and proud by my side. I scolded them silently for letting the bleeding pony stand by herself.

I saw why they let me though.

The dust settled as the Princess of Friendship touched down. Her wings swept downward, then folded neatly by her side. She then began trotting, and just like magic, the crowd parted for her.

A small part of me envied her crowd-parting powers.

The mob continued to separate until she came right up to me. Her deep velvet eyes stared straight into mine, then down at my muzzle. I touched my face with a hoof, watched it come away painted.

"Are you alright, Tempest?" she asked. Her voice was low and soft, with the texture of midnight cotton.

I had to think before answering her. "I'm fine," I said.

The two guards exchanged looks. The Princess kept her eyes on me. Eventually, she turned to the guards. "I'll take her from here," she said. "You two are dismissed."

"Yes Princess," they said.

She then escorted me to the castle.

Most of the time, I found sights to be uninteresting. Boring. Of little value.

This was not one of those times.

Golden gates opened to flourishing gardens and thriving ecosystems. Beautiful towers rose next to marble statues and pools of flowing water. I dipped my head toward one of the pools, stared at the pony staring back at me.

A smile flickered across her face.

The Princess glanced over her shoulder. "There's still a bit of a mess," she said. "Broken furniture all over the West Wing. Mangled greens all over the sculpture garden."

"Seems you have your hooves full, Princess," I said.

She stopped in her tracks. "Please. It's Twilight," she smiled.

I looked away from her.

"There's no need to be so hostile," the Princess continued walking. "The Storm King is gone. The Storm Guard dismantled. Even your friend Grubber understands this."

"He's not my friend," I said.

"Well that's a shame," she frowned. "He seems to believe it."

"He's a fool for thinking so then," I spat back. "Tempest Shadow has no friends."

Silence. The gravity of my words held the open air, and for a while, none of us spoke. The quiet lasted for a moment. Then two, then four. Eventually the weight of my words settled upon my shoulders, and I realized what I told her.

I have no friends, I thought to myself.

My legs trembled. My throat tightened. My stomach rode a couple loops with the Wonderbolts. I turned away from the Princess, forced myself to take a couple shaky breaths.

You don't need friends, Tempest, I told myself. You like it like this.

You like being lonely.

I closed my eyes, let out a slow, smooth exhale. When I opened them, the Princess was twisting her mouth downward. Her eyes stared at mine, then away, like she was debating on saying something. She decided to.

The next thing I remember, I was on the ground. The Princess was underneath me, her eyes wide with terror. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, repeating over and over again.

"Who told you that name?! Who told you that name?!"

Author's Note

Thanks to MrDerpface for the pre-reading of this chapter.

Sorry for the longer wait everyone! I wasn't satisfied with this chapter as much as the last two (and still isn't ;x.x). Regardless, it's out! It'll let me finally get to the juicy parts of this story, Twilight's and Tempest's relationship. Finally!

Thanks to everyone who liked and / or added this story to your bookshelves! You guys are awesome!

See ya guys in a week or so!