Anon and Starlight Adventures

Chapters

That Kind of Plot
What Glimmer Giveth Part 1
What Glimmer Giveth Part 2
Baltimare Bound
Old Friends
The Not-Date
Wounds
That Sweet Ambrosia
Raging Hormones
No Plate For Two
Rage
The New Normal
The Horsehead
Diner Style
Words Unspoken
Purple Smart
Together (Warning: Is shameless fluff)
Dat Ass Tho
In Case You're Wondering, It Was Ice Cream

That Kind of Plot

Anon and Starlight were well past Ponyville’s outskirts and several hours into their journey. Twilight’s castle was a bright but distant scar on the horizon, and before them open fields stretched to eternity. Not really, of course, that would be silly. But besides farmsteads and the occasional merchant, they had the roads to themselves.

Starlight led, of course. She had the map, and Anon had a better view than any mere picturesque landscape could offer. Starlight’s tail swished when she walked. That wasn’t uncommon for ponies, but draped over her goddess given, firm, plump butt, brushing atop the outline of her delicate pussy lips, every motion was a poem, a song, an event, a—

“Anon, are you staring at my butt?”

Anon tore his gaze from Starlight’s rear to look into her eyes. Her angry, disapproving eyes.

“Uh…”

“Alright, you’re leading now,” Starlight said.

“But I don’t know the way.”

“It’s easy. Just follow the road until the fields turn into houses.”

“Whatever you say partn… er, Starlight.”

Anon moved ahead of Starlight, though he thought it was a bad idea. His ass wasn’t nearly as nice to look at.

As they continued walking, he felt pressure knot his gut. He groaned, tensed, and clenched his jaw, but it continued to build, like someone inflating a balloon in his abdomen, until it popped.

“Ugh, what the? Urgh, Celestia, what’s that smell?” Starlight said.

“Sorry,” Anon said, petting his stomach, “I had fish tacos last night.”

“It’s like a corpse in a sulfur pit!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault all the cows here can talk. I’d love a steak right now.”

“You what?” Starlight shook her head. “Never mind. Look, just walk beside me.”

“You’re the boss.”

Anon’s backed to Starlight's side. His hand twitched as they continued. He stretched it toward Starlight’s butt, but she swatted it away with magic. They walked a few more minutes, then he tried again, and again she swatted him away. He tried once more, but this time Starlight stopped, surrounded him with her aura, and slammed him to the ground.

“You. Are. Impossible! Are you going to make every moment of this trip a headache?” She spat, glaring down at him.

“Ngh. Hey, I’m not really into BDSM, but I’ll try anything once.”

“Argh!” Starlight released him and kept walking, her steps heavy.

Anon stood and dusted himself. “So does this mean I should walk behind you again?

“I don’t care!”

“Score.”

Starlight and Anon arrived in Stableton several hours later. Their walk was quiet, which suited Starlight. Anon’s every other word was detritus, so Starlight preferred him silent. She caught him ogling her flank several more times. She bristled at the unwanted attention, but at least while he was looking, he wasn’t close enough to touch her.

The town was far smaller than Ponyville, but it was active. The principle crops in this part of Equestria were grains, mostly the ever-popular wheat and oats, so despite the town’s size, it buzzed with merchant activity. Starlight stopped and watched ponies haggle, pull loaded carts, and banter in the market square. She pulled back her ears.

“It’s changed so much,” she said beneath her breath.

“Huh?” Anon stopped beside her. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing,” Starlight said. “Come on, we have to find the mayor.”

Starlight led Anon into the square and approached behind a stallion loading a cart.

“Excuse me,” Starlight said, “can you tell me where the mayor of this town is?”

“The mayor? She’s probably preppin’ for tomorrow’s festival,” the stallion said before hoisting another barrel.

“Festival?” Starlight asked.

“Yep. I take it you’re new around these parts. It’s our annual festival, honorin’ the works of our savior—” the stallion turned around, then jumped, sending his barrel tumbling to the ground. “I-it’s you. Starlight Glimmer.”

“Um, have we met?”

“Everypony, it’s her!” the stallion cried, causing Starlight to flinch. “Starlight Glimmer has returned!”

All activity ceased, and the hum of market activity was replaced by frantic whispers and the clatter of somepony literally dropping what they were doing. Starlight’s eyes darted around and she glued her ears against her head.

“I uh…” Starlight backed away, but bumped into a mare behind her.

The square flooded in around them, a hundred excited voices burst in chatter.

“Starlight Glimmer!”

“It’s really her.”

“She’s back!”

Starlight pressed into Anon’s side, scanning the mob for an escape, but every open space invited another body, until retreat was impossible. Anon seemed more curious than scared. He stood tall with his arms folded behind his head and looked around.

A spell, she needed a spell. She could teleport them both, or create a barrier, or if the situation became desperate, she could fight their way out. But before Starlight decided, one voice rose above the others.

“Mistress Glimmer!” A lanky mare with a black mane and bright, silver coat pushed through the crowd and prostrated before Starlight.

“Mistress, huh?” Anon mused.

Starlight jabbed him with her horn, then turned to the mare.

“Wait, I know you,” Starlight said, relief cooling her chest. “Silver Bell?”

“Hear me, everypony,” Silver Bell said, “the pony responsible for our prosperity, to whom we owe everything we are today, Starlight Glimmer, has returned!”

The crowd cheered and stomped their hooves. Starlight stood dumbfounded. Anon repeated the word mistress to himself, a strange glint in his eye.

The cheers died when Silver Bell spoke again. “Mistress Glimmer, it is an honor. Please accept my official invitation to become our special guest at tomorrow’s Festival of the New Sun.”

Starlight looked around. Eager faces beamed from all sides. It looked like half the town was in attendance. “I…” she looked up at Anon. He was watching her too, and shrugged when their eyes met.

“Please, Mistress Glimmer,” Starlight heard a tiny voice say. She scanned the crowd again and found its source, a young filly atop a stallion’s back. The filly grinned at her and padded the top of the stallion’s head with her forehooves.

Starlight flashed a nervous smile. “Oh… Yes, of course. How can I refuse?”

The crowd cheered again, and she noticed Anon giving her a thumbs up.

“Everypony, you know your duties,” Silver Bell said over the roar. “We must work diligently to make this the best Festival of the New Sun ever!”

The crowd dispersed like a bucked raincloud, leaving Silver Bell, Starlight, and Anon. The hum of a busy square returned, though the melody was different now, more energetic.

“Mistress Glimmer, if you and your pet sasquatch would join me, I will secure the finest room in our tavern for you.”

“Pet sasquatch?” Anon repeated, an eyebrow raised.

Starlight giggled.

Silver Bell turned and trotted away, toward the town’s center. Starlight and Anon followed, the human grumbling as they walked.

The tavern was impressive for such a small town. Whatever could be made of varnished oak seemed to be, the furniture coverings were stitched of high-quality cotton, bronze inlays decorated the walls and tabletops, and the smell of fresh baked bread and apple cider wafted from what Starlight assumed was a kitchen behind the concierge desk. Silver Bell explained that their town often received envoys from wealthy merchant families, ponies who expected at least this much. She invited Starlight and Anon to join her for a meal, which the two accepted, as neither had eaten since that morning.

The three took a seat at the center table in the dining area. A petite mare with a bright pink mane brought them cider and a bread basket and they settled in to order.

“Sho, what did Stharlight do for you guys, exactly?” Anon asked through a mouthful of bread.

“What an articulate beast,” Silver Bell said, “I had wondered whether it was proper to bring him inside, but I see now that he is sapient. Wonders never cease.”

Anon swallowed and frowned. “I’m not a sasquatch, I’m human. Literally homo sapiens. Dumb horse.”

“Anon,” Starlight hissed.

Silver Bell waved the comment away. “Please accept my apologies, Mr. Hue-Man. I’ve just never seen a creature quite like you before. To answer your question, Mistress Glimmer came to us many moons ago, when my father was still mayor.

“It may be hard to believe, but back then our town was even smaller than it is now and produced very little.” Silver Bell’s expression became grim. “Many of the fields you may have seen on your way here were unproductive, unsuitable for anything greater than subsistence agriculture. Our ancestors had not seen it fit to adopt more modern agricultural techniques, and neither did we. And even if we desired to, Stableton’s government consisted of no more than the eldest of every family bickering over who would farm the most productive land that season.”

Her expression brightened again and she looked at Starlight. “But then Mistress Glimmer arrived. She promised that if we followed her, she would deliver us from our misery. There was resistance of course, but she persuaded enough of us, and the success of her methods convinced the rest. She parceled land to each family, showed us modern farming techniques, and organized our government. Within several seasons we went from barely surviving to surplus.”

“Woah, Starlight,” Anon said as he tore off another piece of bread, “who knew you were such an effective leader. I mean, besides the ponies in Our Town.”

Starlight blushed and looked down. “I only applied agricultural science, really. I was trying to build an army, and armies run on food.”

Silver Bell continued, “But more than all of that, Mistress Glimmer gave us a sense of purpose, a single goal. For that, we are eternally grateful.”

“Please, just call me Starlight. I haven’t been referred to as mistress since… Well, in a while.”

Silver Bell nodded. “Then please, Starlight, order whatever you like. It’s the least we can do. And you too, Mr. Hue-Man. You are Starlight’s companion; therefore, you are also welcome to whatever we can provide.”

“Got any meat?” Anon asked.

Both Starlight and Silver Bell winced at the request.

“N-no,” Silver Bell said. “We do however keep a supply of salted fish for when gryphon traders stay in town.”

“Fine, whatever,” Anon said, then stuffed another piece of bread in his mouth.

“You’re very kind, thank you for your offer,” Starlight said. “We would love to sample your beautiful tavern’s food.”

Silver Bell clapped her hoof against the table twice and the tavern mare returned. Starlight ordered a hay burger and fries, a garden salad, and toasted oats for dessert. Anon had fish and fried eggs, which Starlight joked were sides to his main course of bread. Starlight and Silver Bell discussed Stableton’s growth, government reform, and the preparations for the next day’s festival over dinner. Anon stuffed his face and tuned them out.

Silver Bell left after dinner and Starlight and Anon followed the tavern mare, whose name Starlight learned was Feather Duster, to their room. It was spacious. There was an area for dining with two cushions and a table, a large window that overlooked the town’s main street, a large stone fireplace, and one bed, lanterns glowing atop end tables on either side.

“Oh…” Starlight said.

“Is this not to your liking?” the Feather Duster asked.

“N-no, it’s great. Thank you.”

“I will prepare a fire for your bath. Please come when you’re ready.” Feather Duster bowed and closed the door.

“Dibs on the right side,” Anon said and tossed his bag on the covers.

“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”

“Where are you going to sleep then? The floor?”

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” Starlight levitated a pillow and walloped Anon’s face with it. “You are.”

“What? But it’s cold, and hard, and I have a bad back.”

“I’ll give you a blanket, you can use those cushions, and I heard sleeping on the floor is good for your back.”

“Aw, c’mon, Starlight,” Anon said. His lip quivered and eyes widened into what Starlight assumed was his rendition of a puppy dog face. But because of his short snout and flat face, Starlight thought at best it made him look like a sick cat.

“Ugh. Alright, then, plan b.” Starlight’s horn lit and she pointed it at the bed. A translucent rectangular barrier materialized down the bed’s center. “There.”

Anon approached the construct and wrapped it with his knuckles, then frowned. “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re sticking to your side of the bed,” Starlight said.

Starlight nodded, satisfied with her work, and set her saddlebags beside the bed. “I’ll take my bath first. I won’t be long.”

Anon nodded, his hands feeling up and down the barrier like a mime. Starlight rolled her eyes, then left the room.

Starlight found the bath chamber, and Feather Duster waiting outside of it. The tub was larger than she expected, enough room for her to lie prone if she wanted to. But she did not stay long enough to get that comfortable. She washed away the dust gathered from unpaved country roads, and some of her stress along with it. When she finished, she dried herself off with towels Feather Duster had provided, then returned to the room. Inside, Anon was scratching away in his black book. He snapped it shut when she entered, said she looked sexy wet, then left quickly for his own bath.

Starlight promptly collapsed onto the bed.

Anon returned to the room, a towel wrapped around his head, another around his waist. He saw Starlight lying on her side of the bed, face buried in a pillow, coat still glistening. The lantern on her side was extinguished, but the glow from his cast a delicate shadow across her frame. He admired her curves from the doorway for a moment, from crest to croup, then closed the door and crossed the room. He let the towel slip from his waist, pulled the other from his head, and slid beneath the covers before blowing out his lantern.

He stared at the ceiling for a while, then looked through the barrier at Starlight.

“Hey. You awake?” he whispered.

Starlight grumbled and rolled onto her side. “Hm?”

Anon looked at the ceiling again. “Why did we come here? What did you expect to find?”

Starlight was silent for a few moments, so he figured she was asleep.

“I don’t know,” Starlight said after some time. “Regrets.”

Anon looked at her again. “Why did you leave? This place seems pretty legit. For a pony town, I mean.”

As his eyes adjusted, Anon could make out Starlight’s half-open eyes looking back at him.

“When I learned I could remove cutie marks, my plans changed. I didn’t need this town anymore.”

“Oh.”

Anon turned his head back toward the ceiling. There was another stretch of silence.

“It wasn’t all bad, you know,” Anon said.

“What wasn’t?”

“Our Town. It wasn’t a total disaster, just mostly.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Starlight said after another pause. “Stealing other ponies’ cutie marks wasn’t the way to get what I wanted. Friendship starts with acknowledging our differences, not trying to eliminate them.”

Anon was quiet again, staring into the darkness.

He turned again to look into Starlight’s eyes. “You and I are pretty different.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“I’m not gonna to stop looking at your butt, you know.”

Starlight blew air between her lips and laughed. Anon joined her. They laughed for some time, longer than he had in a while, before it petered out.

“You know, I think that’s the first honest laugh I’ve ever gotten out of you,” Anon said, smiling at her.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

They held one another’s gaze a while. Starlight’s eyes were pretty, even through the barrier. He hadn’t noticed before, maybe because they were usually shooting daggers at him.

“Guess we should turn in. Long day tomorrow,” Anon said.

“Good idea,” Starlight said before yawning.

“So… How about lowering this barrier?”

“Goodnight, Anon.” Starlight rolled over.

Anon smiled again and rolled too.

“Night.”

What Glimmer Giveth Part 1

Starlight checked another square off her clipboard. The funnel cake stand would go beside the ice cream stand, but only if the crepe stand was across the road, so no sales were… funneled away.

She looked down her list and smiled. Twilight would be proud were she there, and of more than Starlight’s organization. Starlight looked around. Everywhere ponies were working together to erect signs, decorations, to clean and transport supplies, and all the other business of a street fair. The town’s cooperation warmed her inside. It was always a strange feeling, pride in others. Maybe Anon was right, her past leadership wasn’t a total disaster.

Starlight trotted down the road, to the main stage in front of town hall. Silver Bell stood atop it, giving direction for the order of events. Starlight walked up the wooden stairs and approached Silver Bell when the latter finished talking to one of the musicians about her performance schedule.

“The vendors are all set. Are we good on entertainment?”

Silver Bell nodded. “Your help has been invaluable, Starlight. All that remains is the fireworks display. If I could trouble you further, would you check the technicians’ safety measures. I am always fearful of fire hazards. We’ve even enchanted silver vessels with fire retardance for the final ceremony.”

“Wow, I bet it’ll be a blast. Sure, I’ll be back after I take a look.” Starlight hummed as she trotted off the platform. On her way down the road, she noticed Anon walking toward her. The human’s stature made him unmissable, even in a crowd of ponies.

Starlight approached him and raised her eyebrow. “What are you doing back so soon? We still have another two hours before things officially start.”

Anon looked down at her, then looked away. “They didn’t really need me.”

Starlight tilted her head. “Um, are you alright?”

Anon looked into her eyes like he was searching for something.

“Hey, you know all that shit you used to do?” Anon asked.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You know, that dictator stuff.”

Starlight pulled her ears back and looked down. “Oh, that. Yeah, I know about it, obviously.”

“You’re over all that, right? Like, you’re not doing it anymore?”

Starlight looked at him, a knot tightening in her chest. “Of-of course I am. Why would you even ask something like that?”

Anon looked away again. “There’s something up with this place.”

“What do you mean?”

Anon looked past the gathering crowds toward the main stage and the town hall behind it. “That parade. I don’t know, it’s pretty intense. The mare over it is running things like a drill sergeant. Just seems weird.”

Starlight felt the ball in her chest unwind. Was that what this was about? She laughed. But Anon’s “serious” face told her she’d better dial it back.

“You’re overreacting,” Starlight said. “Silver Bell told me about the mare she picked to run the parade. Apparently, she’s a former Wonderbolt. So yeah, I bet she’s a bit uptight.”

“Seriously, Starlight. I think something’s wacked out about this place. The way they shut down the market, how they practically worship you. Like, everything’s just starting to come together for me.”

“Oh, I know what this is,” Starlight said. “You’re just trying to get off the hook for doing setup.”

“What?”

“I know you don’t want to help out, but you don’t have to make up crazy theories.”

“You’re not listening,” Anon said. “Something’s seriously wrong with this place.”

“Okay, I’ll humor you. What’s the big scary secret this town is keeping? Is it that their funnel cakes are imported from a different town? Or, I know, maybe the burger stand is colluding with the waffle cart to destroy the hay dog vendor.”

“You’re not listening to me!” Anon yelled.

“Maybe that’s because you’re not making any sense. There’s nothing wrong with this town. Is it so hard to believe that something I started can succeed?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so busy sniffing your own shit about this place, you’d see how totally fucked up it is!” Anon yelled. Ponies around them were turning in their direction.

Starlight reeled back, mouth agape. She felt magma welling in her chest, incinerating her patience, then it erupted.

“You don’t have to stay if you think it’s so bad,” she yelled. “The only reason you’re even here is because Twilight wanted me to foalsit! Because you’re such a bucking nuisance that even the princess of friendship couldn’t make you palatable to other ponies!”

It was Anon’s turn to be taken aback. He balled his fist, shaking. “Fine, screw you too, cunt. You can choke on this town and your friendship!”

He turned and stormed away, raising his middle digit in the air as he walked.

“Fine, bye! I hope you fall back into whatever hole spat you into our world!” Starlight turned too and marched off in the other direction, pushing through curious onlookers who, as soon as they saw she was coming their way, all pretended they hadn’t been listening. First her steps were quick, motored by the fire burning inside her, but as the fire was doused in ice, her steps slowed. She pulled her ears back, lowered her head, and looked at the ground. She looked over her shoulder, in the direction Anon was headed, but could no longer see him.

Starlight sat alone in an alleyway off the main thoroughfare, pressed against a building and staring at her hooves. She could hear the festivities gaining momentum. The first band was playing, the games had begun, and a cacophonous crowd had filled the streets. The smell of everything fried and sweet filled her nose, but instead of making her hungry, it made her sick.

She’d really messed up this time. What would Twilight say when told what she’d said to Anon? What would their friends say? What advice would they give?

Applejack would probably say be honest with him, tell him she lost her temper and didn’t mean what she said.

But didn’t she mean it? What she had told him was the truth, except the fall in a hole part.

Pinkie would tell her to share a laugh with him or throw a party for him.

But she didn’t know any jokes, and she doubted he’d come to a party.

She couldn’t think of what Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, or Rarity would offer to this situation. Give him a bunny and a new scarf and pull a prank on him?

Starlight sighed.

And Twilight. It had only been a day and already Starlight was doing a worse job with Anon than her mentor had.

She wrapped her tail around her legs and tried to melt into the wall.

“Starlight Glimmer?” Silver Bell’s voice cut through her brooding.

Starlight looked up and flashed a weak smile. “I guess this spot isn’t as secluded as I thought.”

“Is there something wrong? Everypony is waiting for you.”

“I…” Starlight looked at Silver Bell’s curious face, then at her hooves. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Silver Bell nodded. “The pie competition will begin shortly. We would like you to judge. Please join me when you are ready.”

Silver Bell left the alley.

Starlight again sighed. She would have to handle this her way. When the fair was over, she would find Anon and apologize. That was the best she could do.

When Starlight left the alley, she was met by a cheer. Ponies surrounded the alleyway in a semicircle and stomped the ground for her. She pulled her ears back.

“H-hey, everypony. Are you ready for the competition?”

The crowd gave another cheer, and as Starlight walked to the judge’s table, they parted and followed her, as though she were the axis of a great, hooved vortex.

Starlight judged the pies, a blueberry one won; hit the bell of a high striker and won a Daring Do doll; and listened to a Coloratura cover band—they weren’t bad. It was a good day. It was a sad day.

When the sun crested, Silver Bell announced the final ceremony from atop the main stage. Starlight finished her hay burger, wiped the ketchup from her lips, and trotted up the stairs onto the stage. Silver Bell smiled at her, then turned toward the crowd.

“Please clear the road for the Presentation of Colors!” Silver Bell said.

The sea of fairgoers parted, save a few stallions brushing trash and debris from the cobblestone streets, and then they too were gone. Before the stage, five torch-bearing mares filed in beside five large, silver bowls.

“This is my favorite part,” Silver Bell said to Starlight.

Starlight smiled and watched the road. She hadn’t been told the details of this final ceremony, but there was a current through the crowd, anticipation on their faces, excited chattering flitting through their lines. And then she heard a distant drum beat, like the building rhythm of some great, horrible song. The streets carried it like water along an aqueduct. The sound grew from a steady rumble to a dull roar. Starlight recognized the melody.

“Here they come,” Silver Bell said, eyes glinting.

A hundred-hundred eyes turned together toward the sound. It was steady hoofbeats, like the rumble of thunder. And then they were visible. A long column of ponies, marching in lockstep, advanced down the thoroughfare.

Starlight elevated her posture, but she wasn’t sure why. A sensation niggled at her neck, like a centipede crawling up her spine. She looked to Silver Bell, but the lanky mare wasn’t paying attention to her. Starlight swallowed.

The column spread out in front of town hall. Five squares of ponies in uniform, a sea of color wrapped in grey. Each group positioned itself in front of one of the silver bowls, a flag bearer per block. From between them came a single mare, blue with a black mane and wearing silver armor. She looked up at Starlight and Silver Bell and saluted.

“Um…” Starlight looked to the new mare, and to the uniformed ponies. “Uh oh…”

The crowd erupted, neighs and stomps filled the town center. Then Rainy Days began to speak and the crowd fell silent.

“Head Mare,” Rainy looked to Starlight as she spoke, “I present your honor guard!”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no.” Starlight pulled her ears back and ground her teeth. Not again, this was not happening again. Anon was right.

A Stallion emerged from the crowd carrying a lit torch. He stopped before Rainy Days, bowed his head, then gave it to her.

“Today we mark the end of the old order and the dawn of the New Sun,” Silver Bell said. “Begin the burning of the old order.”

Rainy nodded her head. She approached each pony standing beside a silver bowl and presented her torch. Each in turn joined their torch to hers when she approached them, until all five torches were lit.

Starlight’s breaths were ragged. Wait, was she breathing? Yes, she was. Probably. Right? She heard a loud rasp. Was that her? Oh, it was. A panic attack, she was having a panic attack.

Nopony seemed to notice. The crowd was cheering again. Silver Bell’s attention was trained on the ceremony. Starlight saw the flames’ reflection in her eyes.

Each of the flag bearers stepped forward, their flags levitated above a bowl.

Silver Bell stepped forward. “Today we mark an end to the tyranny of the sun.”

Celestia’s flag was burned.

“Of the moon.”

Luna’s flag was burned.

“Of crystal.”

Cadance’s flag was burned.

“Of magic.”

Twilight’s flag was burned.

“Of the old Equestria!”

The Equestrian flag was burned.

“From today forward we decide our fates!”

The flags crumbled and sparked as fire devoured them. Their smoldering ashes dropped into the aligned silver vessels.

Starlight was trembling. She repeated her refrain under her breath, “Oh, no, no, no, no, no…”

The crowd was manic. A chant was growing. Starlight couldn’t understand it at first, but as more voices joined it built to a crescendo. It became clear.

“New Sun!”

Starlight wanted to vomit up that hay burger.

Then Silver Bell raised her hoof, and they fell silent.

“As you all know, this year’s Festival of the New Sun is very special. For this year our leader, Starlight Glimmer, has returned!”

The crowd roared again. Starlight’s jaw was a vice grip.

Silver Bell turned to Starlight and bowed her head. “The stage is yours, Starlight.”

Starlight felt every eye on her. She was still shaking, her breathing still harsh. The crowd might have been silent again. They had to be for her to hear Silver Bell, right? She couldn’t tell. All she could hear now was her own breathing. She lifted a hoof, then put it down. A new feeling was being born in her chest. It was warm, but it wasn’t anger. It tingled, but it wasn’t anxiety. It froze her body, but it wasn’t fear.

The word, what was it? She knew she’d heard it before. It was… ineffable. But it pushed her to act.

She took a step forward, face unreadable, and scanned the crowd.

“What…” she began, then stopped.

The crowd seemed to lean into her.

“What…”

Silver Bell raised her head, her face strained with anticipation.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU?”

Confused murmuring arose from the crowd. Rainy Days looked shocked and dropped her torch. Silver Bell was a statue. Even the honor guard’s stoic composure cracked. Several of them shifted and cast around furtive looks.

“I’ve seen some messed up places before, but what in Tartarus is this? Oh, but who am I to talk? I’m the messed-up pony who made you all like this. And now look at you. Torchlight ceremonies? Burning flags? A new sun? How can any of you think this is okay?”

“We— I…” Silver Bell stammered. “I-I don’t understand. Is this not what you wanted?”

“No! A thousand times no, I don’t want any of this! I mean, I did, but I don’t anymore!”

Starlight closed her eyes and exhaled. She furrowed her brow when she opened them again.

“Equestria isn’t perfect, I get it. That’s why I set off in the first place to change it.”

She turned her gaze to Silver Bell.

“But I learned that this wasn’t the way to change it. And you know who taught me that? Princess Twilight Sparkle, one of the very ponies you want to get rid of!” Starlight’s look softened. “Twilight has changed Equestria far more than I could ever have dreamed, and she did it by building friendships. By repairing bridges, not incinerating them in torch fire.”

Starlight smiled.

“Twilight and her friends have taught me so much. They’ve changed me, made me a better pony. Because of them I feel like I can change Equestria, too, in a much more significant way than I ever felt before. Like I can teach ponies, like they’ve taught me.”

Starlight looked down, guilt filled her. “And I had a chance to do that. But I chased him away… No, I ran from him. I’ve been running this whole time...”

“Princess Twilight Sparkle is your… Teacher?” Silver Bell asked, shock still plastered across her face.

Starlight looked up at her and nodded. “Yeah, she’s the best teacher I’ve ever had.

“I see.” Silver Bell’s face shifted to sorrow. She looked down and away. “How can I have been so foalish? How can I not have seen my mistake?”

Starlight’s features lightened, hope sparking in her eyes.

“Seize her!”

“Wait, what?” Starlight yelled.

A detachment broke from each square and charged up the stairs on either side of the main stage.

Starlight backed up, eyes darting between directions.

“W-wait I!”

“Enough of your prattle! I was a foal to think you were still the pony who led us so long ago. Not after such an absence!” Silver Bell said.

Starlight flinched backward, horn alight as the guards closed in. She charged her spell and gritted her teeth. But before she could fire, her vision was engulfed in black, like a great raven landing before her.

The guards all froze in their place.

“What is the meaning of this?” Silver Bell yelled. But whatever it was ignored all of them, its cloak fluttered as it turned to Starlight. She looked up, shock threatening to tear her jaw apart.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Anon said.

What Glimmer Giveth Part 2

Oh, yeah. He totally nailed that entrance.

Anon looked from Starlight, who looked like she was having trouble keeping her heart down her throat, to the ponies on either side of them.

“How dare you interfere, Hue-Man!” Silver Bell yelled. “I’ll have the both of you—”

“Shut it,” Anon said.

“Excuse me?”

Anon looked back to Starlight. “You good, fam?”

“Y-you… You came back.” Tears were welling in those perfect blue eyes of hers. It made Anon’s heart sink.

“That’s enough, neither of you are leaving here al—”

“I SAID SHUT IT,” Anon yelled and glared at Silver Bell. She and the guards stepped back.

Anon scooped up Starlight under an arm, then turned to face the crowds.

“This is mine,” he said and pointed to Starlight, “so I’ll just take her and be on my way.”

“Hey!” Starlight protested.

“Hush, I’m doing something,” he hissed at her.

“No! You’re going no further, Anonymous!” Rainy landed in front of them with a thud, her eyes raging storms.

“Hey, sexy,” Anon said.

“None of that,” Rainy growled. “Give it up. You can’t get away, not without a—”

“Distraction?” Anon squeezed Starlight beneath his arm. “Three… two… one…”

“What are you…” Rainy began.

KA-BOOM

Explosions rang out across the town, multicolor flashes and showers of sparks. Fireworks flew in every direction, impacting buildings, giving life to large fires. The crowd panicked. Screams filled the spaces between the bangs and whizzes, and order broke down among the guard below and on the stage.

Anon darted past Rainy in the moment she stood horrified. He jumped off the stage and into the panic, and sprinted down the thoroughfare, Starlight clutched to his side.

“Teleport,” Anon yelled to Starlight, seeing a wall of guards reforming ahead of them.

“What? Where?”

“It doesn’t matter! Teleport now!”

They were about to smack into the guards, then a whoosh consumed Anon’s senses, like a gust in a hurricane, and they landed on the bed in their tavern room.

Anon exhaled and put a hand to his heart. It probably wasn’t supposed to beat that fast.

It beat faster when Starlight jumped on him.

She buried her muzzle into his chest and sobbed, forelegs gripping his abdomen.

“You idiot. Why did you come back?”

Anon placed a hand atop her head. “For you. Obviously.”

“But those things I said. I-I…” Starlight looked into his eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it. Not like it was anything I didn’t already know.”

Another explosion rocked the tavern and a dull orange glow filtered through the window.

“Uh, we should do this later. We gotta leave, like now,” Anon said.

Starlight nodded and slid off of him. She dried her eyes with her hoof and levitated her saddlebags onto her back. Anon hopped up and grabbed his tote bag.

“By the way, where did you get that cloak?” Starlight said as she trotted to the window.

“Huh?” Anon lifted the edge of his cape, then shrugged. “I have no idea. Looks cool though, right?”

Starlight rolled her eyes and looked to the street. “Please tell me you had a plan for after you got me off that stage.”

“Nope, figured we’d wing it.”

“The town will be crawling with honor guard by now. I don’t think I can fight them all.” Starlight said. She furrowed her brow, her eyes shifting. Anon recognized the look, it was her thinking face.

Starlight perked. “But maybe I won’t have to. Come on, let’s get downstairs.”

“Right,” Anon said.

They left their lodgings and hurried into the tavern’s common room. It was empty, as Anon figured it would be. Every pony in town went to the fair, as far as he could tell.

They heard a whimper from behind the concierge desk. Almost every pony went to the fair. Starlight and Anon investigated the sound and found Feather Duster cowering. She squeaked when she saw them.

“M-mistress Glimmer,” Feather Duster said, “what is happening?”

Anon and Starlight looked at one another, then back to Feather Duster.

“Oh, you know how these things go. Somepony gets drunk, a fight breaks out, next thing you know the whole town’s on fire. Hahaha…” Starlight said.

“The whole town?” Feather Duster yelped. “I-I have to go help!”

“Oh, um, no, no. It’s fine, they have it under control.” Starlight gestured for Feather Duster to stay.

“B-but somepony might need my help. I must to go!”

“Ugh, you know what, buck it.” Starlight fired a bolt from her horn. It hit Feather Duster between the eyes and she slumped where she sat.

“Woah, what did you do to her?” Anon asked.

“I just put her to sleep. We can’t have her telling anypony she saw us.” Starlight said as she went to the door. She cracked it open and poked her head out, then jerked back and shut it.

“What?” Anon asked.

“There are two guards right outside.”

“Fuck, now what?”

“No, this is actually perfect. I just need a moment to concentrate. Come here.”

Anon walked to her and stood in horn-shot as she closed her eyes.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Shush for a second,” Starlight said. Her horn lit in a brilliant blue that grew in intensity every second.

Anon felt his body vibrate like an electric dildo. He looked at his hand. It was like he was suffering double vision. First his fingers multiplied, then his hand, then his entire arm. A flash erupted and blinded him. When he shook the spots from his eyes, he looked to his side, then jumped back, shocked. A perfect double was smiling at him.

“Sup, fag?” the copy said.

“Do I really sound like that?” Anon frowned.

“Yes. Now it’s my turn.”

Starlight repeated her spell, and Anon watched as her body shimmered, then flashed. This time he closed his eyes before she finished casting. When the light dimmed, a second Starlight stood beside the first. Just a pretty, with just as much ass.

“Alright,” Starlight said as her double waved at Anon, “this spell will last fifteen minutes, which should be enough time for us to escape.”

“So, uh, how sturdy are they?”

“They can take a fair bit of abuse before they’re dispelled. Why do you ask?”

“No reason…” Anon tucked away his ménage à trois ideas for later.

“You two know what to do?” Starlight said to the clones.

“Whatever way you’re running, run in the opposite direction,” Starlight’s clone said.

Starlight nodded, then turned to Anon “Ready?”

Anon and his double were inspecting one another.

“No wonder all the mares go crazy over me,” Anon said.

“Seriously, I’m a freaking chad over here,” clone Anon said.

“Can you focus?” Starlight snapped at them.

“Oops, our bad,” both Anons said.

Starlight cracked the door again. “Okay, get ready. And… Go!”

She swung it open and their clones shot through.

“There they are! After them!” Anon heard, followed by rapid hoofbeats.

Starlight peeked out again, looked both ways, then gestured to Anon.

They left the tavern, went around its side, and ducked into an alley. Yelling, crying, and the occasional scream cut through the night. The town smelled of smoke and gun powder, and the dark skyline was tinged with orange. Small groups of ponies charged by, some carrying buckets toward the town’s center, others carrying ponies away. When the path cleared, Starlight and Anon shot down the road toward market square.

“Think they’ll be alright?” Anon asked through heavy breaths.

Starlight shook her head. “I don’t know, it depends on how well they can stem the flames.”

After several more pauses to avoid oncoming ponies or roving guardsmares, they arrived in market square several streets later. It was still mercifully empty. Empty stalls cast long shadows across the cobblestone ground, and as the wind shifted, embers fell like snow in hell.

“Almost there,” Starlight said. She looked around, then her gaze rested on the street they’d taken into town the day before. “Come on, let’s hurry before—”

Thud.

They both looked behind them and their faces sank. Rainy Days touched down behind them.

“Again?” Anon said, fist balled. “I knew I should have brought my thot-b-gone.”

Starlight stepped forward, horn glowing. “Get out of here. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Rainy laughed. “Don’t think I’m here alone, Starlight Glimmer!”

The shuffle of two dozen hooves around them pushed Anon and Starlight closer together. They stood back to flanks now, surrounded by honor guards, Rainy, and…

“Your ploy almost worked,” Silver Bell said. “But we’ll soon have these fires under control. And you, Hue-Man, will face trial for arson. As for you, Starlight Glimmer,” she glowered, “you will be held as a prisoner of war for your close relationship with Twilight Sparkle. You are to be treated with care, as mandated by international law.”

“Pretty presumptuous isn’t it, Silver Bell?” Starlight said.

“What?” Silver Bell tilted her head.

“That you think you can take me by yourself.”

Starlight fired two bolts, and the guards to either side of Silver Bell dropped. Four more charged her. Starlight waved her horn and a barrier materialized along its arc. She used it as a riot shield to bounce them away like balls against a brick wall, then rounded again on Silver Bell, smirking.

“Y-you must know our support will be here momentarily. Give yourselves up now!” Silver Bell said.

“She’s right,” Anon whispered, “we don’t know how long our clones can keep them away.”

“Enough!” Rainy yelled and launched at them like a bullet. Starlight turned to repulse her, but a stallion pounced on her before she could cast.

“Starlight,” Anon yelled, but then had his soul knocked out of him, hit mid torso by Rainy’s charge and carried through a store window.

He hit the wall like a crash-test dummy and slid to the ground. Pain, life was pain. His torso felt like it’d taken a sledge hammer. He heard a flutter of wings and ducked. Where his head had been, the wall splintered as Rainy’s hoof punched through.

She growled and struggled to pull free.

Anon crawled a few paces then wobbled to his feet and clutched his ribs. His blurred thoughts whirled with a single impulse—he had to help Starlight. He stumbled past tables, chairs, and a wooden pillar.

“Aargh, get back here!” he heard, then another loud crack and a flutter. Her whirled around in time for Rainy’s hoof to crash across his face. He spiraled into a table, over it, and down. The table tipped with him and landed with his legs spilled over its top. His head throbbed. Another loud flap made him gasp. He rolled to the side as two hooves came down where he was lying.

Anon stumbled to his feet again and faced Rainy. Again, she was stuck, trying to pull her hooves free from the wooden floor. She glared at him.

“Stop moving,” she spat.

But Anon stumbled away from her and toward the door. Through the window he could see spell flashes and hear grunts, thuds, and hooves. He reached for the handle, but a final, loud wingbeat turned him on his heels. Rainy slammed into him, knocking him and the door into the street. She panted over him, wings out, and raised a hoof above his face.

“It’s over,” she said.

CRACK

Rainy was hit across the skull, reeled to the side, and collapsed.

Anon looked up, eyes wide. His double was standing above him with a table leg slung across his shoulder and carrying his tote bag.

“Don’t mess up my bread and butter,” his clone said and gestured at his face.

“Anon!” Starlight yelled. He heard her rush over to him. She levitated his head and pressed her nose into his cheek. “You’re okay. Thank Celestia.”

“Heh… You’ve hit me harder than she ever could,” he coughed.

“Come on, before more of them arrive.” Starlight and his clone helped him stand.

Anon looked around the square. It was littered with bodies. Starlight’s clone stood at the other end, piling up a few more. He shuddered. It was a good reminder to never really anger her. In spite of the ache screaming through his every bone, Anon didn’t slow them as they made their way through the final few blocks, to the village’s outskirts.

An hour later, Starlight and Anon sat atop a tree-rimmed hill a few miles from Stableton. Flames still licked its skyline. The whole town seemed to glow.

Starlight sighed and stared at the ground.

“There goes another huge disaster,” she said. She raised her hooves to her face. “Why can’t I do anything right? Is it so much to ask that one thing I do isn’t a failure?”

She felt Anon’s arm wrap around her. She dropped her hooves and leaned into him.

“So, aren’t you going to say it?” Starlight asked, keeping her eyes away from him.

“Huh?”

“’I told you so.’”

Anon remained silent. She felt him rest his head atop hers.

“Not my thing.”

Starlight felt a wave of relief, though she wasn’t sure why.

They remained embraced for a while, she wasn’t sure how long. Then a nerve-racking thought hit her.

“Oh Goddess, what will Twilight say when she hears about this?” She raised a hoof to her muzzle. Images of Twilight’s furious reprimands, being kicked out of the castle, and even a trip to Tartarus filled her head.

They stopped when she felt Anon shrug beside her.

“Something like, ‘thanks for saving me from the violent overthrow of my principality’.”

Starlight let a laugh slip. “If she overlooks the threat of overthrow being my fault to begin with.”

A crisp breeze rustled through the grass and trees. Starlight shivered and pressed into Anon. He lifted the hem of his cloak and wrapped it around her.

“So… Tell me this was the worst of what you want to fix,” Anon said.

“Would it scare you away if I told you it just gets worse from here?”

“… Nah.”

Starlight snorted and giggled. “You really are an idiot.”

She felt Anon shrug again. For some reason his answer pumped the weight in her chest with helium. She nuzzled him and closed her eyes.

They slept under the stars that night, secure in the knowledge they were thoroughly screwed.

Baltimare Bound

Two days had passed since the events in Stableton. Though they had stayed at inns for their second and third nights on the road, most of Starlight and Anon’s time had been spent walking. They’d arrived in Bridleberg that morning, the closest town with a train station, but later than Twilight’s schedule dictated because of the Stableton complications. So when they bought their tickets, they’d had to take what was available—seats at opposite ends of the train.

“All aboard to Baltimare.”

“What if we exchanged these tickets for a later train?” Anon asked the mare behind the ticket counter.

She stared through him like a filly at an advanced alchemy textbook. “Then you’ll have to pay the transfer fee.”

“A fee just to catch the same train at a different time? What kind of fucking scam is that?” Anon said.

“Anon, it’s fine,” Starlight said. “We’ll just be a few carriages apart. Our train is leaving.”

Anon grumbled, then looked to the ticket mare again. “I won’t forget this injustice. I know the princesses, you know! I’ll have this entire station turned into a parking garage!”

“Sir, I don’t know what that means,” the ticket mare said.

“Oh, you will! Mark my words!” Anon yelled as Starlight dragged him away.

“Tickets, please.” The conductor said when they approached him. He took Starlight’s first and nodded. “Seat 22, ma’am.”

Starlight turned to Anon and smiled. “It’s only for a few hours. I’ll see you when we disembark.” She disappeared into the carriage.

The conductor turned to Anon. “Ticket, sir?”

“Yeah, here. Whatever.” Anon handed it to him.

The conductor nodded again. “Seat 107, sir. Near the caboose.”

Anon snatched the ticket from him and boarded. “Great. Thanks.”

Anon walked past rows of chattering ponies and found his seat. It was squeezed between a gryphon and a gruff, brown stallion, neither of whom looked pleased to see him. Anon sighed, sidled into the row, ignoring the stallion’s grumpy neighing, tucked his tote beneath his seat, and sat. Across from him were three mares. Two—one teal, the other violet—were cuddled together, reading a magazine, and the third, her coat ivory, was mid-nap.

“Uncivilized gulls,” Anon heard the gryphon, whose conical bill and gold and black plumage reminded him of a finch, say. Anon could see in his peripheral that the disgruntled bird was looking at the snuggling mares across from them. He must have been new to ponies. It had taken Anon some time, too, to realize that snuggling, cuddling, and nuzzling weren’t taboo in public, but just the way friends interacted here. The first several times he’d experienced it, he thought everyone everywhere was in some kind of intimate relationship, and that many of them wanted one with him. It wasn’t until a mare courted him for the first time that he recognized the difference. When a mare wants fuk, there’s no ambiguity. She’ll present like a cat in heat. Often because she actually is in heat.

The train whistled, steamed, then lurched into motion. Anon watched the station disappear. Soon they were sailing a green sea. In the distance he could see the mountain range hiding Canterlot, his old home. Anxiety twisted his stomach.

Anon leaned back and closed his eyes. He repeated Starlight’s line to himself, just a few hours.

“What are you tryin’ to do, push me out my seat?” Anon heard grumble from beside him. He cracked his lids and looked to the stallion.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you, you damn giant. Keep your legs to yourself.”

“Sorry,” Anon said. He pulled his limbs to his body and sat straight.

“Hmph, letting everything under the sun into this country…” the stallion grumbled to himself.

Anon closed his eyes again, a vain attempt to sleep through the journey. It almost worked. But as he stood at sleep’s edge, about to slip into the void, he felt thick, coarse feathers slap him in the face. He snapped open his eyes and pushed the gryphon wing away.

“Dude, quit it,” Anon said to the bird beside him.

“These pony carriages are too small,” the gryphon said. “I need room to stretch my flight muscles.”

“Ok, but can you not do it in my face,” Anon said.

“I make no promises.” The gryphon folded his wings.

Anon sighed. He resumed his quest for sleep. He saw stars flit by. His mind wandered off through lines of familiar faces and foggy impressions, and he found himself in Celestia’s throne room. Sun Butt glared at him and guilt bubbled from his depths. She shook her head at him, opened her mouth, and the sound of a chainsaw on stone spilled from her lips.

Anon jolted awake and covered his ears. “What the fuck?”

Across from him the ivory mare was snoring so loud that Starlight’s apnea was a kitten’s purr in comparison.

“That’s it,” Anon said. He stood and squeezed past the still grumbling stallion. He walked through four carriages, to Starlight’s row. She was in an aisle seat, reading Kites Quarterly. Beside her were two mares talking well above inside-voice decibels, but it didn’t seem to bother her. Anon crouched beside her.

“Starlight,” he said after shooting the chatty mares a dirty look.

Starlight looked at him and tilted her head. “What are you doing up here?”

“I can’t take it back there anymore. Let me sit with you.”

Starlight looked around. “How? There’s no room.”

“I don’t know, you can sit in my lap or something.”

She gave him a deadpan look. “I don’t think that’s allowed. And even if it were, no.”

“Fine,” Anon said and plopped down, “I’ll just sit here, then.”

“Ahem.”

Anon turned. The conductor was standing behind him.

“Please clear the aisle, sir.”

“Gah!” Anon stood, squeezed past the conductor, and headed to his seat.

“Try to make the best of it. We’ll be there before you know it!” Starlight called after him.

Anon sidled into his row, past the agitated stallion and the ivory mare still imitating a jackhammer with her nostrils, and plopped down.

“Ow! What do you think you’re doing?”

Anon hopped upright and looked in his seat. The gryphon’s tail wiggled limply on his cushion.

Anon sighed. “Can you get your tail out of my seat?”

“That’s is no way to apologize for dropping your rump on it,” the gryphon spat, then curled and stroked it.

Anon sat, limbs together, and groaned. If he couldn’t sleep, maybe reading would work. It seemed to for Starlight. He reached under his chair, unzipped his bag, and pulled out last moon’s edition of Better Boardgames. He flipped to the article on Steed Battalion. Ponies didn’t have anything as kickass as Warhammer, but they had their own set of crazy table top games.

He read the first line, but lost his place when the bear-in-pony-form across form him took another deep breath. He tried again, but again her lawnmower sounds kept him distracted. He inhaled, told himself to concentrate, then read the first line. It worked, Snorlax’s breathing didn’t derail him. Second line was a breeze too. No mind, like the Buddhists say. The third line was about to fall too, but…

“Waaaaaaaah!” a foal screeched behind him.

Anon squeezed, crumpling the pages. “Not parking lot. I’ll have it turned into a public toilet.”

The stallion next to him began grumbling again about Equestria for ponies, the foal screamed at the top of its lungs, the ivory mare went full construction site, and the gryphon’s wing pomfed against his face.

Anon stood, asked to be excused, and walked to Starlight’s carriage. She was writing a letter when he reached her.

“I need you to deafen me,” he said.

Starlight looked from her parchment, confusion written on her features.

“Like a silence spell or something.”

“That… Would mute you, not silence everyone else,” Starlight said.

“Can you puncture my eardrums with your horn, then?”

“Ew, no. Just go back to your seat. I’ll come to you if I think of a way to help.”

Anon groaned. “Fine.”

He trecked back to his carriage, slid past his row mates, and settled on his cushion. Maybe he was being ridiculous. He’d been in crowded train cars before on earth, and this wasn’t his first Equestrian train ride. Granted there was usually more room, and the trips weren’t often longer than twenty minutes, but it wasn’t a new experience. He just had to pull it together, man up, and make it through the next few hours.

Starlight finished penning her letter to Twilight. She blew on the ink and read it. “Maybe ‘so incredibly, amazingly, monumentally sorry’ is a bit much,” she whispered. “Then again, maybe it’s not enough?”

She looked out the window. Her first letter would have arrived by now. She hadn’t heard anything from Twilight, but that was expected. After all, she and Anon hadn’t stopped much since leaving Stableton. Besides scrying, how would Twilight know where they were to send a response?

Starlight felt the butterflies in her stomach throwing a party. She needed something to take her mind off it. She crumpled her parchment, then paused. She looked at the wrinkled ball, unfurled it, then ripped it in two. She narrowed her eyes and felt her horn warm. The papers flashed and became two matching earplugs, about the size of Anon’s auditory canal if her memory was right.

She hopped from her seat and trotted to his carriage. The human was having it rough, maybe these would speed his journey. She opened the door to the last car and froze in place. Horror gripped her chest.

“Sir, please let him go!” the conductor yelled.

Anon was sprawled out in the aisle, holding a brown stallion in a choke hold. The stallion was kicking wildly, his face bright pink. A nearby gryphon was placing bets and waving a bag of bits in the air, and she heard a foal giggling wildly at the show. Most ponies in the carriage looked horrified, but none seemed brave enough to intervene.

“Go ahead, talk shit again! Not such a big guy now, are you?” Anon said through a sadistic grin.

Starlight felt herself shake with fury.

“ANONYMOUS!”

“And your service is terrible! I didn’t get a pack of peanuts the entire ride!” Anon yelled at the train as it pulled away from them.

Starlight buried her face in her hooves. “Why, Celestia? Why me?”

She heard Anon humph triumphantly beside her.

“Told them, huh?” He said.

Starlight gritted her teeth, filled her horn with energy, and slammed Anon into the ground.

They walked the rest of the way.

Old Friends

Five days. Instead of a few hours by train, their trip to Baltimare took five days. They hitched rides on wagons and with caravans during the night, walked during the day, and made meal breaks quick to save time. But still the trip took five days. It bore repeating, and Starlight repeated it to Anon whenever presented the opportunity.

She wasn’t angry with him, or at least not after the first day. But she felt like the cold shoulder was her only tool to keep Anon in line. He would try to talk to her, to joke, prod, sometimes cajole, but she kept her composure icy, even when he flew into a fit, tripped over himself, or burnt his potato chips. (Seriously, how? You don’t even cook those.) But she only managed to maintain her aloof distance for half a day.

In truth, it was hard for her to stay distant toward him, even when he was being an obnoxious pervert. Before the Stableton events, her impression of him had been one dimensional. He was the annoying, sex crazed alien who couldn’t keep his hands to himself or his mouth shut. But in Stableton she’d seen him be cunning, brave, and forgiving. Those impressions grew stronger the more time she spent with him; they cemented themselves; they gave a new meaning to his rambunctiousness.

It wasn’t more than two days, then, before she found herself leaning on him during their rides, walking at his side during long stretches of road, and nuzzling him goodnight. Before, somewhere buried in her heart, she started to think of him as a friend.

She wasn’t as surprised to find herself with her forelegs in his lap while he combed his fingers through her mane as she would have been a week before. It would have been unthinkable then. Now, as they flipped through Better Boardgames together, she hardly considered it.

The cart in which they rode, surrounded by bales of hay, jostled and creaked. She felt Anon drop his hand on her back to keep her steady and smiled at him. He wasn’t smiling.

“Is it your back?” Starlight asked and patted his lap.

He nodded, his face contorted in discomfort. The first few cart rides hadn’t seemed to bother him much, but by the third stretch across uneven roads, Anon was complaining it felt like an elephant had used him as slippers—his words.

Starlight sat up and peeked over stacked hay, past the stallion driving and the bull pulling the cart, into the near distance. She felt her heart skip and her cheek muscles pulled an involuntary grin. There was smoke on the horizon. Nay, more than that, there was the sprawling outline of a city. She sat down and rubbed a hoof Anon’s back. “Hang on a bit longer. We’re almost there.”

“To the jaws of death?” Anon grumbled.

Starlight giggled. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re in luck, I know the best alchemist in Baltimare. She’s actually why we’re here. As soon as we find a place to stay, I’ll get you a pain-relieving tincture.”

Starlight stopped rubbing his back, worms nibbling her nerves. She would get him a tincture on the assumption the alchemist in question didn’t shut the door in her face.

She pushed those thoughts away and leaned against Anon. “Isn’t there somepony here you want to meet, too?”

Anon’s pained look didn’t vanish, but Starlight saw his eyes shift to the side. She noted it as an obvious yes to herself.

“I don’t know,” Anon said. “I guess.”

“Well, it’s what we’re here for,” Starlight said. “Apology tour, remember?”

Anon didn’t look at her. Starlight felt concern nest in her chest. She brushed her nose against his neck and chuckled when he flinched.

“How about I come with you?” Starlight asked.

“No!” Anon snapped his head toward her, his face urgent. He seemed to realize the intensity of his reaction. He turned away.

Starlight looked at his lap. “Is there something wrong?”

She felt Anon rub her back. When she looked up, he was giving her a cheesy, though pained, grin.

“It’s just something I want to do alone. No biggie,” Anon said.

Starlight nodded slowly. She felt his hand travel down to her butt. She instinctively knocked him across the face with magic, causing his body to twist in recoil.

“Ah, my back!” Anon yelled.

“I forgot! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Their cart pulled to a stop a half hour later. Starlight jumped off. Anon slumped out.

“Thanks again for the ride,” Starlight said and handed both the driver and the bull a bit.

“Any time, ma’am,” the bull said and bowed. “Your friend okay though?”

Starlight looked to Anon. He was dragging along the cart, his hand gripping its side.

“I hope so,” Starlight said. She bid the driver and bull farewell and looked around as Anon shuffled to her side. The city was no Manehattan, but it was grand. The streets were paved with cobblestone, the sidewalks with bricks. Most of the buildings were made of brick and stone too, a far cry from Ponyville and Stableton. The streets bustled, even in the obscure neighborhood off in which they’d been dropped. The homes were rowhouses, wedged together as though carved from a single stone. Stand-alone buildings, whether temples, shops, or municipal, were a mix of architectural styles. Twilight had talked enough about Canterlot and Manehattan architecture for Starlight to pick out in what period certain structures were built. She recognized the neoclassical design of a Sun Temple down the street, and the colonial influence in a group of buildings a block over.

But Starlight’s attention was stripped from the city’s look when she heard Anon’s pained groan. Right now, she needed function over style. She needed to find them an inn. It wasn’t too difficult. They were in west Baltimare, a part of the city in which she’d spent a lot of time. She prodded her half-dead companion and bid him follow. He did, though slower than an old mare with sciatica.

After a short walk, punctuated by frequent breaks, they stood before a building wedged between a y-intersection. The sign above its entrance read “The Hoofland”. She’d remembered it from her last visit. Starlight led them inside. The foyer was simple, a front desk faced the door, flanked on either side by a staircase. To the left and right were hallways lined with doors. The carpet seemed old, as did the wallpaper, the staircases, and even the mare behind a desk.

“Welcome, hon,” the elder mare said. She had a yellow coat and a grey mane tied in a top bun.

“Hi, I’d like to rent a room for two, please,” Starlight said.

Annon dragged in behind her and leaned on the desk.

“Why are we still here? Just to suffer?” he said, then lowered himself onto the ground.

Starlight gave a nervous smile.

“Why of course you would” the old mare said. “Why else would you come to the best inn in Baltimare?” She produced two keys from beneath the desk and slid them to Starlight. “You’ll have room 26, up the stairs and to the right. And if you need anything, just call on Swift Service. That’s me, hon.” She winked.

“Thanks, we will. Come on, Anon.” Starlight helped him to his feet.

“And what’s your name, sweetheart?” Swift asked, flipping open a ledger.

“Oh, sorry. Starlight Glimmer.”

“Enjoy your stay at The Hoofland, Starlight!”

The room was… cozy. There were two beds, between them a night stand with a lantern, and a small bathroom near the door. Anon collapsed on one of the beds, face down, and groaned.

“That bad, huh?” Starlight said. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get that tincture for you right now. Just try not to move too much.”

Anon grumbled from his pillow. Starlight took the sound as an acknowledgement of some sort. She placed her saddlebags by the other bed, checked her mane in the bathroom mirror, then left the human to recover.

She hurried from The Hoofland after nearly colliding with a bandaged mare. She scanned street signs and racked her brain. Was it left? Maybe right? No, now she remembered, it was near Gwynn’s Fawns. Starlight weaved through crowds and hoof traffic, made a sharp right, and stopped, breathing heavy, in front of a nondescript shop, the post above which read “Potions, Poultices, and Tonics”.

She felt that nervous tingle again, like somepony was applying a feather to her cerebellum and the sensation was traveling her spine.

“Long time no see?” she said to herself. “No, no. Hey, I know this is a little awkward, but I’m back! No, that won’t do it either. I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms, but even poison leaves can be purified? Ugh, no that one was horrible.” She inhaled, steadied herself, and stood tall. “You can do this, Starlight. You just have to go in there and apologize.”

She approached the door, took another deep breath, and opened it. A thick plume of some noxious smoke smacked her in the face and she stumbled backward, coughing.

A second cough joined her, and a light blue unicorn with a frizzy white mane stuck her head through the door.

Starlight wheezed through her coughs and waved away what remained of the cloud.

“Ms. Chloride?” Starlight said when she was sure her lungs were still on the inside.

The blue mare continued to cough, eyes closed, and shook her head. “N-no, ufh. J-just Salt…” she opened her eyes and looked at Starlight. “… Water. S-Starlight Glimmer?”

Starlight smiled as well as she could, but she felt her cheeks twitch resistance. “Heeey… Yeah, It’s me. I’m back.”

“O-oh.” Salt Water looked at the ground, then to Starlight, then to the ground. “I see.”

They stood in front of the shop in silence for moments that felt like hours.

“May I come in?”

“S-sure, I guess.” Salt Water entered the shop and Starlight followed. Inside were rows and shelves of multicolored vials, each with a different label. Potions for growth, for hair remover, for allergies, for birth control; it seemed there was a tonic for almost every desired ailment or alteration. In the back a beaker fizzled and steamed atop an alchemy table, between a ring stand and a bottle labeled “aqua regia”. Salt Water levitated the beaker and examined it, her back to Starlight.

“So…” Starlight began, “I see you’re still at it. The alchemy, I mean.”

“Y-yes,” Salt Water said.

“And how is business going?”

“Mmh.”

Starlight felt her stomach dancing. She approached Salt Water like a mouse to crumbs and lowered her head. “I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms. I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for the way I acted before. A lot has changed since then. Can you… Can you forgive me?”

“Mmh.”

Starlight pulled back her ears. “I’ll take that as a no, then?”

Salter Water set down the beaker and turned to Starlight, her face indifferent. “I-if you want to read it that way. We—I’m over it. N-now if there’s nothing else you need…”

Starlight’s heart sank, but she raised her head. “Actually, there is something else. I’m looking for a tincture for pain relief, specifically for the lower back.”

“S-sorry, fresh out.”

“Out? But how? Who?”

“W-well it’s a big city, Starlight.” Salt Water walked behind her alchemy table and fiddled with the clamp on her ring stand. “We—I run out of things often.” She paused and then looked up, eyebrow raised. “A-although my last pain reliever w-was bought by a mare I’d never seen before. I think she said her name was…”

Knock Knock

Anon opened his eyes and groaned.

Knock Knock Knock, the sound’s intensity grew.

“Starlight, did you forget your key?” He said as he dragged himself out of bed. He slogged to the door, one hand on his back.

Knock Knock KNOCK KNOCK

“I’m coming. Hold your horses. Heh, get it? Horses. Heheh, ow. Laughing hurts too?”

Anon gripped the door knob and pulled.

“Next time don’t forget your k—AAH!”

Anon fell back on his ass. Pain shot through his entire body and he tensed, although the physical tension was preferable to the fear knotting inside him.

Standing in the door, head wrapped in gauze, was Rainy Days.

The Not-Date

“Guess you’re not here for a cuppa, huh?” Anon said.

Rainy crossed the threshold and kicked the door shut behind her.

Anon crawled backward, but the strain in his back fought him every inch.

“Two dozen moons,” Rainy said. She closed the distance between them faster than Anon could create it. “I worked for two dozen moons, drilling, training, requisitioning. And you and that… that witch! You reduced it to cinders in a night.”

Anon swallowed. “To be fair, the reducing to cinders was me. Starlight wouldn’t hurt a mosquito if it were having a buffet on her eyeball.”

“Tell that to the fifty guards she left unconscious!”

Anon bumped against the nightstand. He was out of backing-up space.

“See? Unconscious. That’s much better than dead!”

“Shut up, Monster!” Rainy stomped her hoof, rattling the lantern. “You’ve taken everything from me. I won't let you do the same to this city” She stood over Anon now, eyes like the pits of hell.

“Not true! You still have your good health.” Anon looked at the bandage around her head. “Er, mostly… Wait, monster?”

Rainy lifted her hoof above him. Anon winced. Seemed she was picking up where they left off. But at least back pain wouldn’t be his biggest concern. He waited for the crack of his bones or the splatter of his brains, but neither came.

He looked to Rainy. She was swaying, eyes glazed, then fell to her side against the bed.

Anon sat still for a moment, confused. This seemed somehow familiar, too. Rainy’s wings slackened and a bottle rolled from beneath one, to his feet.

He picked it up and read the label. “An anti-inflammatory?” He looked at the bandage around her head again and sighed.

Anon stood, then plopped down on Starlight’s bed. “Well, this will do me more good than it will you.” He uncorked the bottle and took a swig. It tasted of strawberries. He felt his body numb and he laid back, looking at the ceiling.

“Anon!” The door burst open and Starlight sprinted in, horn alight.

Anon turned his head to her and waved. “Yo.”

“We’ve been followed! Rainy Days is—” Starlight looked at the unconscious Pegasus on the ground. “Um… Nevermind.” Her horn dimmed and she walked over to Rainy, then prodded her with a hoof. “Did you do this?”

Anon sat up and shook his head. “Looks like she has a concussion. It’s pretty impressive she got this far, honestly.”

Starlight looked at the bottle in his hand. “What’s that?”

Anon looked at it too. “Pain reliever. And a strong one. She dropped it when she passed out. Don’t know why she’s taking it though. It’ll mess with clotting.”

Starlight raised a brow.

“What?” Anon said. “I’m allowed to know some things, aren’t I?”

“I’m just surprised is all.” Starlight looked at Rainy. “So what should we do with her?”

Anon stood, put down the bottle, and tucked his arm beneath Rainy’s head. “Help me get her onto the bed.”

“What? You want to keep her here?”

Anon shrugged. “Wouldn’t feel right putting her on the street. Best thing for a concussion is rest.”

Starlight looked skeptical, but she levitated Rainy’s other end and helped Anon lay her on his bed.

“By the way,” Anon said as he propped Rainy’s head on the pillow, “how was your meeting with your alchemist friend?”

Starlight pulled back her ears. “Not great. I have a feeling I’m not going to win her over by talking about how much I’ve changed.”

Anon nodded. “Friendship speeches aren’t your thing anyway. They seem kinda forced.” He saw Starlight wince and hastened to clarify. “Hey, they’re not mine either. That’s Twilight’s deal. You’re more pragmatic.”

“I suppose… But I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.”

“What’s she mad about?”

“It’s a long story.”

Anon’s stomach rumbled. “Eh, tell me on the way to dinner. Haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Starlight looked at him. “Are you sure? How’s your back feeling?”

Anon twisted right, then left, then he shrugged. “Still stiff, but I can’t feel anything. Like literally, anything.” He pinched himself. It felt like his arm was sleeping, ten thousand miles away. “What the hell kind of drugs do you ponies make?”

“If that’s one of Ms. Chloride’s concoctions, I’m not surprised. She never did less than 150% of what was required.”

Anon pulled a bag of bits from his tote and walked to the door. “As long as it doesn’t mess up my taste buds.”

“Wait, are we just going to leave her alone in our room?”

Anon turned his head to Rainy. What a nice ass.

“Sure, it’s probably fine.”

“But she might take something, or come after us again.”

“I’m not worried about it.” Anon opened the door. “She wants revenge or whatever. If she takes anything, we’ll see her again. If she tries to hurt us, you’ll turn her into a bug.”

Starlight took a step forward, then hesitated. She gave Rainy a sidelong look, then followed Anon out the door.

“Seems like a nice shop, anyway,” Anon said, looking at Potions, Poultices, and Tonics from across the road. He and Starlight took a detour on their way to dinner. It wasn’t the most remarkable storefront ever, definitely no Quills and Sofas, but it got the job done. Not that Anon knew much about alchemy anyway. He guessed an alchemy shop was basically a pharmacy, but the few times he’d been in one he’d seen potions that did way more than any pill factory on Earth could promise.

Anon folded his arms behind his head. “I dunno, I’d forgive you instantly if it were me.”

“Even after stealing half your stock to experiment with a mind control potion and then letting the authorities trace the empty vials to your shop when it failed?” Starlight covered her face with a hoof, ears back.

“Yep.”

“Be serious,” she snapped.

He was being serious. Those cute eyes and that nervous laugh would melt him like an ice cube in a hot tub. It would be different were she ugly, of course. Lucky for her that was not the case. Not that Anon would say any of this out loud. Even he had his tact, what little there may have been.

Anon shrugged and looked at Starlight. Her head was lowered and her lips were curled into an adorable, though heartbreaking, frown.

“Hey. Dinner’s on me.” Anon said.

“What? No, I… I can pay for myself.”

Anon shook his head. “It’s cool. A lot’s happened recently.” He put his hand on Starlight’s head and scritched her mane. He could tell by the way her expression turned to putty that it was working. It always worked on mares. “Let’s take it easy, just for tonight? Friendship problems can wait until the morning.” And besides, the more distance he put between himself and his past, the better.

Starlight nodded absently. She seemed to gain a moment’s clarity, at least enough to say, “This isn’t a date or anything, though.”

“Obviously.” Anon removed his hand from her head. He noticed a hint of pout when his fingers left her mane. He smirked. “If it were a date, you’d be paying.”

Starlight looked for a moment as though she were going to protest, but all she managed was a huff. He knew that she knew it was true. Ponies and their weird social norms.

“Where do you want to go for this not-date, then?” Starlight asked.

“That’s weird. You made it sound weird. It doesn’t matter, you pick. Just pick someplace with food I can eat?”

Starlight nodded. “I know just the place.”

Starlight knew her spots. She’d picked a restaurant on the bay. It required a taxi cart, but the travel expense was justified. The menu included a variety of fish, fresh from the Celestial sea. It was a popular tourist spot for gryphons, most of whom arrived in Horseshoe Bay on boats from Griffonstone.

Anon stole peeks at Starlight above his menu. The setting sun glittered on the bay, but it was just jealous its gross incandescence was a petty imitation of Starlight.

“I think I’ll have the hay burger, fries, and a shake.”

“That’s right, eat well and keep that ass swole,” Anon whispered.

“What?”

“I, uh, said I think my menu has a hole. See?” He forced his finger into the bottom of his menu until it punched through.

“I assume you’re done with that, sir?” Anon heard a disgruntled voice behind him. He turned to the waiter, whose unamused gaze was trained on the now punctured menu.

“Yeah, heh. I’ll just have the grilled salmon.” Anon handed the waiter the menu.

Once Starlight had ordered, they sat in comfortable silence and looked at the sea.

“Are you going to tell me who you’re here to see?” Starlight said.

Anon’s insides churned a little. “It’s a… Just an ex, is all.”

“I figured that much. I’ll need more information than that.”

“I uh… I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Anon looked at Starlight, surprised. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I’m sure you have your reasons for not telling me. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”

“… You’re amazing.”

“Huh?” Starlight tilted her head.

“Uh, never mind. What a sunset, huh?” Anon turned back toward the sea.

“Yeah, it is.”

Anon sensed she wasn’t looking at the water.

Their food arrived not long after. The salmon was tender and flaky, coated with a buttery white sauce, and the accompanying asparagus almost made Anon rethink his position on vegetables. Almost.

When they finished, they decided to take a stroll on the boardwalk. About ten minutes into their walk, Starlight excused herself, so Anon waited by the railing. He was going to find a place to sit when a flutter caught his ear.

“Oh no,” Anon said.

He turned around. Rainy Days was standing atop a kiosk, breathing heavily and staring him down like a hungry predator.

“I’ve finally got you alone. Now we finish this!”

Anon sighed.

Rainy flapped her wings and burst forward. She yelled her fury and pulled a hoof back so she was like a dart, Anon her target.

Anon ducked.

Rainy shot over his head and hit the water with a giant splash.

“What was that?” Starlight trotted up to him, two ice cream cones levitating beside her.

“I don’t know, some weird bird. Is one of those for me?”

Starlight nodded. “I didn’t know what flavor you like, so I got you a chocolate and vanilla swirl.”

“I like them both, thanks.” Anon took his ice cream and licked it. It was delicious, much better than the store-bought stuff on earth. Probably hand-cranked… or hoof-cranked. Starlight had some kind of berry blend. When she licked it, a little was left on the tip of her snout. Anon brushed it off with his finger tip and took a taste.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he sucked his finger tip.

“Hey, that was mine,” Starlight said, looking mock-angry.

“Not anymore.” He stuck his tongue out at her. They laughed and continued their stroll down the pier.

They walked until the sun was low. Their ice cream was gone by then and they were contemplating returning to their hotel when Starlight gasped. She’d spotted something that changed everything.

“Kites!” Starlight yelled. Anon followed her line of sight and saw several ponies at the end of a pier flying kites above the water. “They’re so nice! But those ponies are flying them all wrong. Their stability is terrible. They’re too choked up on the tether. How did they get such nice kites when they treat them so badly?”

Anon looked around and saw a filly run out of a shop carrying a folded kite. “Probably got them from there,” he said and pointed.

Starlight looked to the shop. “Kite rentals?” She squeed and bounced on her hooves. “We have to rent a couple before we leave! Come on!” She sprinted into the shop. Anon followed, smiling.

“I’ll let you handle the renting, I wouldn’t know what to get. I’ll wait out here.” He leaned against the shop’s wall as she went in. Anon felt something strange in that moment. He hadn’t realized it until he saw how excited Starlight was. Or maybe it had just been so long since he’d last felt it that it was almost unrecognizable. He knew what it was now though; he was happy.

He heard a nearby growl. “Now you’re mine!”

“Ugh, can’t get five seconds…” Anon said.

Rainy stood twenty yards down the boardwalk, her mane and tail still dripping, bandage gone. Maybe washed away. Anon turned toward her, but she was already full sprint in his direction. She leaped.

Wham

She smacked into the shop door when Starlight opened it.

“What was that?” Starlight looked around. She was carrying two delta kites with her horn.

“Uh. Just the door stopper. Guess you opened it too fast, don’t worry about it. Come on.” Anon took one of the kites and walked with Starlight to the pier.

Starlight flew her kite like a master, which Anon guessed she was. He’d always considered kite flying simple, nothing more to it than fabric in the wind, but with Starlight it was an art form. Even apparently simple things are many-sided, he learned. Or maybe it was just the way she saw the world infecting him. Either way, it was the most fun he’d ever had with wind fabric.

They flew until the sun had truly set. And after Starlight returned their rental kites, the relaxed on a bench under the rising moon. Starlight lounged prone with her forehooves in Anon’s lap while he ran his fingers through her mane. They chatted about the different kinds of kites she’d flown since she was a filly, and the temperament each kite had. Well, Starlight did most of the talking, but for once Anon was content to sit and listen.

“And then there’s the roller. It’s one of the strongest kinds, good for high wind situations and—”

“Enough!” They both looked to the voice’s source, but Anon already knew who it was. Rainy Days blew air from her nose and glared at them.

“She’s awake?” Starlight said, sitting up.

Anon sighed and stood. “I’ll handle this.” He went to the center of the boardwalk and faced her.

“Are you sure? You know how strong she is,” Starlight said.

Anon nodded.

“I’ve had enough of these games,” Rainy said. “I was going to deal with you when your sorceress wasn’t around, but I’m not waiting anymore. You’re going down, and then I’ll end her, too.”

Anon clinched his fist. “You’ve been harassing me all day. What’s your deal?”

“My deal? You’re my deal. Both of you are.” Rainy snorted. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life as when I let you two get away. But now I’m going to fix that mistake!”

“No.”

“What?” Rainy’s scowl deepened.

“I mean why are you doing this to yourself. You’re injured, you moron, and this isn’t making things better.”

“My injury is no concern of yours, monster!”

“Fine, maybe it isn’t. But it should be your concern.”

Anon raised his fist and pointed at her. “Today was a good day. I don’t get a lot of those. But if you’re going to keep ruining our not-date, I’ll deal with you right here.”

“You’re right, that does sound weird,” Starlight said. “And she’s been doing this all day? Where was I for that?”

“She attacked me when we were separated a few times. But this is it.” He lowered himself slightly. “If you want to fight, fine. I’ll just have to use my ultimate technique.”

Rainy laughed. “You mean the one where you crawl away pathetically while I beat you to a pulp?”

“Oh, there won’t be any crawling this time. Brace yourself. You won’t be able to do anything.”

They stared each other down for what felt like half a minute. Rainy widened her stance and spread her wings. Anon was a statue, his eyes didn’t leave his pegasus opponent.

Then they charged. Eyes locked, nostrils flared. Both went full force, but instead of meeting her in the middle, Anon bounced to the side and traveled slightly past Rainy, just out of her reach. Both pivoted and turned, but Anon’s arm outstripped Rainy’s attack range. He lunged his fist forward, and extended his finger, right into her snout.

“Boop.”

Rainy froze. Her nose scrunched and her face turned red, mouth open. Her eyes rolled up and she fell onto her side.

Anon blew on his finger and pretended to pocket it like a pistol.

“What did you do to her?” Starlight trotted to them and waved her hoof in Rainy’s face.

“The one weakness shared by all ponies.” Anon smirked. “The snoot boop.”

Starlight looked dumbfounded. “I can’t believe that worked…”

“Yeah, well maybe you won’t doubt me next time.” Anon knelt down beside Rainy and hoisted her onto his back. As he adjusted her support, he noticed how springy her butt was. Nice.

“What are you doing with her?”

“Bringing her back to the hotel with us.”

“Again?” Starlight yelled.

“I don’t think she’s a bad pony. She’s just lost, like me.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“What did I just say about doubting me?” Anon smiled at her.

Starlight sighed. They walked together toward the street and caught a cab back to their inn.

Maybe Starlight was right and it was a bad idea to not just toss Rainy into the water. But that was a problem for tomorrow. Today was theirs.

Wounds

Starlight awoke to yelling interspersed with frantic hushes. She rolled over. The lantern flickered, casting dancing shadows across the room. Anonymous was standing between beds, his back to her, gesturing for lower volume. Rainy was in what should have been his bed, tied down by the magical chains Starlight insisted they use, struggling and repeating the saltiest of curses. The kind unique to pegasus airships.

“We had to so you wouldn’t kill us in our sleep,” Anon said in the pitch of a whisper, but volume above speaking voice.

“And you had to imprison me here, too? I know what this is, an interrogation!” Rainy yelled.

“What? What would we even interrogate you for?” Anon said.

“I know what you two have been up to here.” Her voice grew louder the more she spoke. “But you won’t stop me from bringing you to justice and— mmfhmfh!”

“That’s enough of that,” Starlight said, horn warm with magic.

Anon slumped and sat down on her bed. She could see from his eyes that he hadn’t slept much, if at all. She still couldn’t fathom why he was going through the trouble of keeping Rainy Days around. The latter had done two things in the time they’d known her, nearly killed him and displayed stalker-like persistence. But Starlight also felt a tinge of pride. She imagined how the other Elements of Harmony must have thought the same when Twilight took a similar risk on her behalf. Maybe the human was learning more about friendship than either Starlight or Twilight expected.

Starlight sat up and pressed into his side. He squeezed his brow between his middle finger and thumb. A quick tap at the door made them both jump and sent Rainy into another round of frantic struggling. Starlight and Anon looked at one another. He grabbed the blanket on Starlight’s bed and draped it over Rainy. Starlight hopped down and walked to the door. When he nodded at her, she cracked it open and stuck out her head. Swift Service was standing in the hall, a lantern raised in one of her hooves and curlers in her hair.

“Is everything alright in there, hon? I heard yelling from clear down the hall.”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine! We were just, um…” Starlight looked back to Anon.

“We were just doing a bit of roleplaying,” Anon called.

“Roleplaying?” Swift Service repeated.

Starlight flattened her ears and laughed nervously. “Uh, yeah… Roleplaying. I guess it got out of hoof. We’ll try to keep it down, so sorry to bother you.”

“Right… Well do be quiet about it. Other guests are trying to sleep,” Swift said, trying to peek further in, but Starlight blocked her.

“Yes, of course. So sorry. You won’t hear a peep from us the rest of the night,” Starlight said.

“I hope not…” Swift Service said. She turned and walked down the hall, muttering something about “fillies and their kinks” to herself.

Starlight sighed and closed the door. She turned toward Anon. “Roleplaying?”

“It was all I could think of,” Anon said as he pulled the blanket off Rainy Days and tossed it onto Starlight’s bed.

“Now she thinks I’m some kind of pervert,” Starlight said as she walked toward him.

“Better than thinking we’re ponynappers.”

“Aren’t we, though?” Starlight said, standing in front of the bed to which Rainy was tied.

“No! I mean… Kinda? But it’s not like we had a choice.”

“We could turn her over to the royal guard. I’m sure they’d like to hear about her role in training the Stableton militia.”

Rainy emitted a muffled scream and continued fighting her bindings.

“In fact, we’ll have to if you can’t calm down a second,” Starlight glared at her.

Rainy quieted, but continued to fidget against her chains. Starlight propped her hooves on the bed.

“I’ll unseal your mouth, but on one condition: No more yelling. I just want to talk. After that…” Starlight looked at Anon, then back to Rainy. “We’ll let you go.”

“Sure that’s a good idea?” Anon asked.

“We can’t keep her here forever. It’s better she goes free on our terms than get released if the innkeeper gets wind of this.”

Anon nodded. Starlight tilted her head, looking into Rainy’s eyes. “Do we have a deal?”

Rainy looked away, her face scrunched in anger, but nodded.

Starlight channeled magic into her horn and lifted the seal on Rainy’s mouth. The pegasus gritted her teeth.

“The truth comes out. This is an interrogation,” Rainy said.

Starlight shook her head. “No, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to. I’m just curious, how did you find us?”

Rainy snorted. “I was raised in the Silverback mountains. Foals there learn basic tracking skills before they learn to walk.”

“So, you followed our trail?” Starlight asked.

“No, that wasn’t necessary. To find you I only needed to ask if anypony had seen a pink unicorn traveling with a hairless ape.”

“So much for handsome sasquatch…” Anon said.

“Appearances can be deceiving, monster. For instance, we thought she,” Rainy turned her head to Starlight, “was a noble leader returning from a long journey. Not a heartless witch seeking to undo everything she’d created.”

Starlight didn’t like the many assumptions Rainy was making, but the reminder that she was responsible for what Stableton had become still stung. She shook the thought from her head. “But why come after us? You had to know how this would end.”

Rainy remained silent.

“Alright. What did you mean about ‘what we’re up to’, then?” Starlight asked.

This seemed to surprise Rainy, if for a moment. “The story is already all over the city. The creature that attacked Stableton is here.”

Starlight looked at Anon, then back to Rainy. She laughed. Hard. “There’s so much wrong with that, I can’t. First of all, you know what happened in Stableton. Second, this,” she put a hoof on Anon’s leg, “crass idiot isn’t a creature. He’s my pet sasquatch.”

She felt Anon’s cold stare on her and relished needling him.

“What I know is that he’s the one responsible for burning Stableton, and now ponies here are going missing.”

“Huh? Since when?” Anon asked.

“Well… For a while. But everypony suspects it’s related to Stableton. And I know you’re a violent monster. It makes sense to me.”

Starlight thought for a moment. She suspected the princesses would keep news of a rebellion to a minimum. But Stableton was a local trading hub, so it would be hard to cover up everything. Rumor must have filled the gaps. But that left a lot unanswered. Why did nopony mention Anon’s presence if fear of a monster was rampant? Granted, Equestria had a lot of weird creatures, many far more monstrous than him, but there should have been some suspicion. Unless…

“Rainy, when you heard these rumors, did you ever bother to get a description of said monster?”

“No… I just assumed because of the rumors…”

“And you know we’ve only been here for a day, right? Not even that long yet,” Starlight continued.

“That’s impossible!” Rainy spat. “I learned you were traveling here by train almost a week ago. That trip is at maximum six or seven hours.”

“Yeah, that’s not a train ride we really completed,” Starlight said, narrowing her eyes in Anon’s direction. He looked away. “But think about it. You followed us half the day yesterday. Did you, even once, see anypony running in fear of this supposed monster?” She gestured in Anon’s direction.

“No, but…”

“That’s because it’s not him. You’ve got the wrong pony, er, creature. And violent?” Starlight blew air between her lips. “You know he carried you here, right? Made sure you weren’t passed out by the docks.”

“And so, what?” Rainy said. “Because of him, because of both of you, I can’t go back home. I’ve seen manticore purr. No beast rampages all the time. He’s already proven what he is. You both have.”

Starlight was starting to understand this pony. So, this was why Twilight always solved problems by talking instead of using her infinite mana pool. Why did she have to keep relearning the same lesson?

“You’re right about one thing, Rainy,” Starlight said, “we could have handled things differently.” Starlight’s horn warmed and the chains around Rainy Days dissipated. “But we also did what we felt we needed to protect our friends.”

Rainy sat up, ears pulled back. “At the expense of mine.”

“Didn’t you say everyone lived though,” Anon said.

“What kind of life is occupation by the royal guard? Silver Bell disappeared, and the town is a military outpost. And I can’t go back. Who knows what they’ll do to me.”

“Rainy,” Starlight said, “do you not have any place to stay?”

Rainy looked away. “That’s not true… shut up.”

“You know, I’m pretty close to Twilight Sparkle. I bet I could get you off the hook for any punishment if you became my student.”

“Say what?” Anon said. “I’m all for clemency and whatnot, but student? There are like… A million things wrong with that suggestion. Like, what is she going to do, travel with us?” Anon paused for a moment, then looked at Rainy. “Actually, I’m okay with that.”

Starlight didn’t bother wondering what he was thinking.

“I couldn’t make up for what I did in Stableton. For what I did to Stableton. But maybe I can make up for what I did to you.” Starlight reached a hoof out to Rainy. “So what do you say? Want to make some new friends?”

Rainy looked at Starlight’s hoof. Her hoof flinched, then she reached out, too… And slapped Starlight’s away. “Never. I will never forgive you.” Rainy stood and glared at them both. “You freed me, so I won’t try to take you out. Not now anyway.” She hopped off the bed and went to the door, then pulled it open. She paused in the doorway and turned toward them. “But if I find out what you’ve said is a lie, that you’re responsible for what’s going on here, I’ll be back for you. Both of you.” She left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Starlight stared after her, mouth open. She felt Anon’s hand on her withers.

“Eh, we tried. Can’t win them all,” Anon said.

“It’s not that…” Starlight sat down and looked up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t sure, but now I am. She really reminds me of myself.”

That Sweet Ambrosia

Starlight and Anon decided to each go their own way after breakfast the next morning. Anonymous said he was going to find his ex. Starlight offered to go with him, but the human insisted he go alone. Starlight agreed, though she didn’t like it. She wanted him to trust her, but he didn't, at least not enough.

Starlight decided to talk with Ms. Chloride again, or Salt Water as she was calling herself. She told Anon he could find her in Potions, Poultices, and Tonics if he needed her. Anon agreed while scribbling in that little black book of his. He went stiff when Starlight nuzzled his cheek and wished him luck. It was a little cute.

The air was crisp that morning. Unusual for midyear, but welcome. Starlight took her time going to Ms. Chloride’s shop. She was clueless as to how she would get a serviceable reaction from her old acquaintance. But when she reached the shop’s street, a correct apology became a tertiary concern.

A group of disgruntled ponies were queued outside the door. Starlight approached and peeked through the shop window. The inside was dark. When she tried the door, she found it locked.

“You can’t see it’s closed, young filly?” the stallion at the line’s head, caramel colored and wearing a derby hat, said.

Starlight studied the hours sign in the windowpane. “But it says the shop should be open now. It’s not like Ms. Chloride to miss a day.”

The stallion chortled. “This shop’s been open when it feels like for moons now. Just get in line and give it time, it’ll open.”

Starlight backed from the entrance and scanned the line. Most of the ponies waiting for the shop to open were older, and few looked content. Starlight followed the queue to its end and stood behind a scarved, yellow mare who smelled of moth balls and rubbing alcohol. Beside the line’s rear was an alleyway. At first, Starlight paid it little attention, but the hushed tone of a familiar voice caught her ear.

“… Tomorrow, t-too. I will p-pay in advance for next week’s deliveries then.”

Starlight looked at the line again. Nopony seemed to notice. She slipped into the alleyway, a narrow corridor that split three ways, and peeked around the corner. Salt Water was standing in front of an open cellar door behind her shop, speaking with a large, rust-colored earth pony stallion as he hoisted a pink-striped jug of water onto a cart packed with more of the same.

“Course, ma’am. If orders keep rising, I’ll need me a second trolley” the stallion said and guffawed. He tipped his cap to Salt Water, hitched himself, and exited the alley through the corridor perpendicular to Starlight.

Salt Water marked something on a clipboard and entered the cellar.

Starlight looked over her shoulder, then approached the still open doors. “Hello?” she called into the darkness, but was met with a dull, mechanical hum. She checked her surroundings again—the alleyway was empty, save a few pigeons cooing from a fire escape—and descended the stairs.

The stairway was basted in a peculiar smell, like formaldehyde mixed with mouth wash and set aflame. At the bottom of the staircase, the path twisted left, and around the corner Starlight saw a dim light. The hum was louder now, and with it was a light bubbling sound, like percolating coffee. Starlight finished her descent and peeked around the corner. She saw tubes full of blue-tinted liquid wrapped around metal bars that glowed dull red, as though channeling a good deal of heat. These tubes originated from large, swirling vats, themselves fed by suspended flasks. They steady-dripped into a tub, on the end of which glinted a notched, silver nozzle.

Starlight didn’t see Salt Water, but there was another room beyond, from which she heard a suction sound, like the steady, repeated compression of a large plunger. She crept through the first room, eyeing the concoction as it fizzled and belched, and peeked into the second. Salt Water was sitting, back to Starlight, at a table covered with documents and devices that seemed to whirr and whirl of their own accord. In the corner was a tank full of the same blue liquid, on each side of which was a piston in operation. The liquid twirled as though being stirred. It fed into a decanter on Salt Water’s desk. Salt Water was staring at a flask between her hooves. She sniffed it, licked the top, then guzzled it like a mare fresh from a week’s stay in the desert.

Starlight approached. “Ms. Chloride?”

Salt Water gagged on her mixture and coughed, then turned to Starlight. “W-what are you doing here?” she said, setting the flask down.

“I came to talk to you, but your shop is closed. What is all of this?” Starlight swept her hoof in an arc, indicating everything she’d seen.

“You s-shouldn’t be here,” Salt Water said. She looked down, then stood. “A-although perhaps this is f-fortuitous.”

Confusion flashed through Starlight and she took a step back. “What do you mean?”

Salt Water approached her. Her pupils were dilated beneath lidded eyes. “Y-your curiosity will be rewarded.” She lifted her hoof and placed it against Starlight’s cheek and looked into her eyes.

Starlight began to channel magic into her horn, but her concentration snapped when Salt Water’s lips pressed to hers. She gasped, all the invitation needed for Salt Water’s tongue to find its way inside her mouth. Starlight tried to pull away, but her head became an aquarium, her senses dulled, and heat spread from her skull, down her spine, beneath her tail. Her legs buckled and she swayed. Starlight felt Salt Water pull away, but found herself leaning forward. She was met with a halting hoof against her body.

“T-tonight. Right now, you need to leave,” Salt Water said.

Starlight nodded, her movements involuntary. The heat she felt surging in her nethers disintegrated what remained of her focus. She turned and left the room, unsure of where she was going.

Anon looked at the black booklet in his palm, then at the brick building. “It’s been a while.”

The sign read “Moonglade’s Lounge,” in red cursive, followed by an image of a cocktail and lipstick in the shape of puckered lips. He approached the red, painted wooden door and knocked twice. No response. He knocked twice more, then heard a click. The door cracked open and a single, blue, slit-shaped pupil peered through.

“Eeeee!” echoed from beyond the door and it swung open. A petite, pink bat pony stared up at him, fangs showing through her wide grin.

“Hey, Moonie,” Anon said. “Long time no see.”

“Nonny!” She flapped her wings and bounded onto him and latched her hooves around his neck. “I forgot how tall you were.”

“And I forgot how tiny you were,” Anon said, petting her back.

“I thought for a while you were too good for us,” Moonglade said and poked out her lower lip.

Anon shook his head. “I don’t like staying in one place too long. Can I come in?”

Moonglade nodded and settled her hooves on the ground. “Burning Heart’s going to be so happy to see you.”

“So, she’s still here then,” Anon said, some unconscious hope snuffed.

“Duh. Where else would she go? Come on.” Moonglade led him inside. The door snapped shut behind them and latched. The long entrance hall was a line of thick, velvet curtains. If Anon’s memory was right, they were all soundproofed by enchantment. His nose was bombarded by the musk of sex. The lighting was a rich scarlet, like the lounge was the interior of an exposed heart.

The hall’s end opened into a proper club, a bar opposite a compact stage, the two separated by a small seating area with tables and cushions. A large, white minotaur with a black mane stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses, but the room was otherwise empty. He turned to Anon and slammed his fist on the bar counter.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up like this.” The minotaur stomped to Anon. He stood a full head taller, horns nearly grazing the ceiling, and breathed steam.

Anon stepped back. Tauron was as imposing as ever. “Hey, Tarry…”

“That’s a name only my friends use,” Tauron said, arms folded.

“Right… Sorry, Tauron.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t use it,” Tauron bellowed. He opened his arms and dragged Anon into a crushing hug. “Next time I expect a week’s notice before you’re in town.”

Anon gasped. “Noted,” he said, his pitch somewhere north of falsetto.

“Put Nonny down, Tarry,” Moonglade said. “You know he isn’t here for us. The misfits club reunion can wait until after he sees Burning Heart.” She winked at Anon.

Tauron laughed as he put Anon down, a laugh that shook every glass in the bar. “She’s going to castrate you!” Tauron punched Anon on the shoulder. That shoulder went numb.

“She’s, uh, not here, is she?” Anon said, rubbing his new bruise.

“Are you kidding? She’s always here,” Tauron said. “Just saw her go backstage.”

Anon looked at the curtain. He expected it to fly open, and for a tactical nuke to fire for his forehead. Mercy had it that ponies didn’t use warheads.

“It’s alright, Nonny. She’s way more mellow that she used to be. Besides, for every bone she breaks, I get another bit from Tarry,” Moonglade said. She was way too chipper about his impending demise. Then again, Anon had never known a bat pony to shy away from carnage. They were cuter than kittens, and much more bloodthirsty.

Anon dipped his hands in his pockets. “Guess I should say hi, then.” He took a step, then stopped and turned. “Or maybe I can come back. I’m sure she’s busy, right? Probably lots to do before tonight’s show.”

He felt Tauron’s large hand on his chest. “Don’t be a wimp. Get in there and say hi or I’ll carry you in myself.”

That wasn’t a bluff. Minitours don’t bluff.

Anon righted his course and walked toward the stage. It wasn’t a large stage, but it fit its purpose. It was surrounded by cushions and had two poles in front of a black curtain. His thoughts flashed to Starlight. He wished she were there. But it was better she not be. This part of his past was a secret best kept with those involved.

Anon climbed the short steps onto the stage and slipped past the curtain. There were several tables, each with a mirror and a makeup set, and racks of outfits—from saddles and bridles to lingerie, socks, and panties—to the side. He heard movement beyond the clothes and approached. Stooped over, taught red rear raised, was a unicorn rolling a large pink-striped jug.

“That you, Tauron? Give me a hoof, our delivery’s here,” she said. Her purple tail swished, giving Anon the barest peek of her labia. He did miss those lips, just a little.

“Not Tarry, but I can still help, I guess.”

She paused, ears swiveled, then turned her head. She examined Anon with a look somewhere between curiosity and surprise, then returned to the jug. “Hurry up, then. I’m not supposed to use magic on this stuff.”

Anon lifted the jug. “So… How’s it going?”

“Take it Tauron. He’ll know what to do with it.” Burning Heart turned her attention to organizing the outfits.

Anon adjusted his grip on the jug. He wanted to say something else, but he wasn’t sure what. He turned from her.

“Not bad,” Burning Heart said.

“What?” Anon paused and looked at her.

“You asked how it’s going. Not bad.”

“Oh. Cool.” Anon lingered for a moment longer, then left when it was clear that was all she’d say.

When he passed the curtain, he saw Tauron and Moonglade looking at him from across the room. He walked to the bar and handed Tauron the jug.

“So?” Moonglade said.

Anon rubbed his hand behind his head. “She’s definitely more mellow, I guess.”

“And?” Moonglade was leaning forward.

“She didn’t say much.”

“Get back in there, then,” Tauron said, holding the jug with one arm. “Still got to shove my hoof up your ass to get you moving, don’t I?”

“What am I supposed to say to her?”

“’I’m sorry’ is a good start,” Moonglade said.

“Right. Okay, I’ll try.”

Anon rounded on his heel and went backstage again. Burning Heart was sitting at a table, several records levitating around her head and a quill scratching on a parchment beside a record stack. She looked to him, then pushed one of the records into its sleeve.

“I, uh,” Anon looked at the records, too. “Is that Rara’s 'Snout to Snout'? Remember when we would listen to that together?”

Burning Heart dropped it on the stack. “Not really.”

“Oh. I guess it was a while ago.” Anon sat at a table beside Burning Heart’s. He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was more tired than it should have been that early. He turned to Burning Heart. “I wanted to say... uh… I’m sorry. About leaving without saying anything.”

Burning Heart stopped sorting the records. She sat silent for a moment

“It hurt,” she said.

Anon stayed quiet, all his energy dedicated to steadying his expression.

“We were together for just a few moons, but we got close so fast. I was going to ask you to…” She turned to Anon, rage building in her eyes. “And you just skip town? Do you have any idea how degrading that is? Like I didn’t even matter?” She got to her hooves and set the records on the desk. “And the worst part is you didn’t even say goodbye. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD.” Her breathing was rough now.

This was familiar; this was the Burning Heart Anon remembered. “Yeah. I guess I just got… I don’t know.”

“And then the next moon I hear you’re partying it up in Manehattan like it’s no big deal! I had to read the news paper to see the kind of company you were keeping.” Burning Heart stomped her hoof. “I was heartbroken. And then I was furious. And now you come back and all you have to say is ‘sorry’?”

Anon hesitated for a moment, then put his hand on her withers and looked in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s not enough. I get it." He swallowed. "It’s all I got though. I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

Burning Heart’s eyes shifted, like she was looking for something in his. She sat down. “Guess I didn’t realize it was still bothering me.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re still the best pussy I’ve ever gotten.” At least so far. He had a suspicion he knew a pony who could top her.

“Damn right I am. I’m not going to be beaten by two-bit idols.” Burning Heart brushed her bangs from her eyes.

The sat in silence for a few moments.

“So… what have you been up to?” Anon asked.

“The same as always. As often as dancers and customers cycle through here, it never really changes.” She rubbed one hoof atop the other. “And I’m getting married.”

Anon would have spit take if he had water. “What?”

“I guess Moonglade didn’t tell you. I met him here. He’d just left his previous herd and we just kind of hit it off.”

Anon recovered from his shock with a mental slap. Of course she’d move on, what did he expect? No one just waits around for their ex to come back. “That’s pretty cool, congratulations.”

“Heh, thanks. But I’m probably not the only one committed, right? I bet you found yourself a nice filly.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m… I’m here with her, actually. To visit, I mean,” he lied.

“Always have another one in your pocket, don’t you?” A thoughtful look crossed Burning Heart’s face. “I don’t know how long you’re going to be here for, so why don’t we go on a double date tonight before the lounge opens?” Her look turned sly. “That way we can see which of us traded further up.”

“I… I don’t know, maybe that’s not, uh…”

“What? You guys don’t have plans already, do you?”

“Well, no but…”

“Great. Let’s meet at The Golden Trough tonight, half past six bells, then. And don’t forget to bring your marefriend. Don’t want you going third wheel on me.”

“Yeah… That would be awkward.” Anon felt his stomach fall out beneath him.

Anon stayed for another hour. He talked with his three old friends about the places he’d been since his time in Baltimare, about how the lounge had grown, and about Moonglade’s weird family in Hollow Shades. He didn’t know mangos even grew that deep in the woods. But as the sun approached its zenith, he decided he’d better leave. He had to get ready for the double-date, after all, which meant he had to convince Starlight in the first instance.

This was a terrible idea. He knew it was a terrible idea the moment he’d lied, but it just slipped out like a wardrobe malfunction. Now he was going to get yelled at by Starlight and then embarrassed in front of Burning Heart’s fiancé. Why couldn’t he just say no, he didn’t have a marefriend? It would have been so easy. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He entered The Hoofland and walked to their room. Swift Service gave him a strange look as he passed, but he greeted her and ignored it. Every step was another weight on his ankles. What would he say to Starlight? Please pretend to be his girlfriend for an hour and he’d buy her food for the next month? It wasn’t like her to lie, and less to lie to perfect strangers. And, crap, what if she asked what Burning Heart does? He hated the idea of Starlight knowing he used to date a stripper, that he used to work in a strip club. Even worse, one that doubled as a brothel below the table.

He stood outside of their room and took a deep breath. Maybe if he used his expert groveling skills she’d play along. It wouldn’t hurt to try, right? A blow to his pride here was less painful than the blow promised later that day. He opened the door and was hit with a scent that made him question whether he’d left Moonglade’s Lounge.

“Uh, Starlight?”

He heard a whimper as he entered. He froze in place. Starlight was splayed on her bed, tail to the side, brushing her hoof across her pussy lips.

She looked at him, eyes lidded, and smiled. “Welcome back.”

Raging Hormones

Starlight felt a niggling anxiety about Anon watching her. It was a tinge of guilt and a desire for approbation. It wed with the electricity charging through her body when she pressed her clitoris, an emotional cocktail that earned its name, lust.

She watched his eyes through a haze, as though she were far away, an engaged observer. But she needed more. Her pussy pulsed. It was a dull ache, like hunger. She withdrew her hoof and looked at it. It glistened like a dew-covered petal.

“Starlight, what… Why are you…” Anon stammered in that ridiculous, dumbstruck way.

Starlight stretched her hoof toward him and beckoned. For all his differences, he was such a stallion. So confident when talking, but too timid to claim her when invited. She knew this was what he wanted, what he’d wanted since they’d first met. He just needed to seize his chance. She wanted him to seize this chance.

She did want it, didn’t she? It felt as though she was searching for her desires in a sea of imposters. She snapped to attention when Anon sat on her bed. He looked apprehensive, but the bulge in his pants betrayed his feelings. Starlight sat up and leaned into him. She pressed her lips to his ear and thwapped her tail on the bed. She felt his body shiver. His reaction tickled her urge to feel the tensing muscles of a lover against her body.

But something wasn’t right. She had to fight the heat clouding her mind; she had to remember something important. She… Oh, Celestia, his fingers. Anon’s fingers were traveling up her back. They were so soft, so strong. Each digit was an adrenaline shot. Her tail thwapped again, and she melted into him as his fingers reached her neck and mane.

Starlight felt him pull away from her. Why? She wanted to feel him. She felt his free hand against her cheek and looked into his eyes. There was something so unsure about them, so confused, but then they steeled. He leaned in and the breath was sucked from her chest. His lips met her horn, a gentle caress. She closed her eyes and felt a surge, hornsparks tickled her nose and face. What if he licked it? That would send her over the edge. She wanted it more than anything at that moment.

But wait, why? Why did she want that? It wasn’t right… right? She felt his hand travel down her back and cup her butt. The sensation was familiar, it meant… What did it mean? She couldn’t think past the touch of his lips, past the damp spot growing beneath her.

Anon’s slowly ended his kiss and Starlight cracked her lids. She felt his touch linger on her horn. His grip tightened. She yelped, as he lifted her and placed her on her back. Her forelegs curled against her chest and her hindlegs were splayed in the air. She whined at him, she longed to be against him again.

Anon hovered over her and looked in her eyes, the same curious look playing across his features. “Something’s up. Why are you all over me all of the sudden?”

Starlight opened her mouth, then closed it. She knew what to say, then lost it. She scooted back, but the movement agitated her arousal again. It was so hard to concentrate. This was wrong, all wrong. “I… I don’t know,” she managed to say. She channeled magic through her horn. It felt weak, like a leaf on an ocean current. Her loins burned for attention. “I think I’ve been drugged.” But she couldn’t remember where, how.

She saw something on Anon’s face she didn’t expect: fury. He cupped his hand and put it to her forehead. “You’re so hot. Whose ass is missing my foot?”

Starlight heard his words, but they didn’t register. She gripped his arm between her hooves and licked his fingers, then whined when he pulled them from her grasp.

Anon rose from the bed. Where was he going? Why wouldn’t he rut her? She heard the tap run in the bathroom, then he returned with a cup. He sat beside her, lifted her head, and put it to her lips. “Drink.”

She understood now, he was a stallion that liked to be dominant. How kinky. But no, wait… that wasn’t it.

Anon took the cup when she finished, then reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle. She recognized it, it was the pain reliever he’d gotten from Rainy Days. Anon opened it and put it to her lips. He smiled at her. “Usually I don’t advocate self-medicating, or mixing substances, but I need you normal. Just a sip though.”

Starlight nodded and took a swig. It hit fast as a bottle of high proof cider. She felt her body numb, like every nerve was pinched. She felt like she wanted to breed, but had no organ up to the task, a strange blend of sensations.

“How do you feel?”

Starlight nodded. “Better, I think.” She rolled onto her side. “Or worse. Actually, I don’t feel anything.”

“Mission accomplished, then.” Anon closed the bottle and set it on the night stand. “You didn’t take anything when you went to see your alchemist friend, did you?”

“I…” Starlight tried to remember. That’s right, she went to see Ms. Chloride. What did she do there? She shook her head, dim impressions flashing like out of sequence movie stills. “I don’t remember.”

Anon brushed his fingers through her mane. Embarrassment flashed through her and she clamped her ears against her head. Dampness lingered on the comforter beneath her.

“I’m sorry. I really made a mess of things, didn’t I?”

Anon grinned, “I like messy. Let’s keep going when you’re not on some extra strength date rape drug.”

Starlight laughed despite herself. “I’d restrain my optimism if I were you. This was your opportunity, but you missed it.”

“Eh, well. I’m not going to lose to some pumped up Viagra. Uh, that’s this sex pill back on… Nevermind.”

That’s right, he had wanted this all along. He’d made it clear since they started their trip. But when she was vulnerable, he didn’t take advantage of her. Starlight felt a different kind of heat in her chest, foreign to the hormones otherwise swirling within her. She wouldn’t forget this.

“So, you okay?” Anon put his hand to her head again.

Starlight nodded, “As okay as I can be in an artificially induced estrus.” She sat up on her haunches and shifted. Numb or not, she still felt… wet.

“I want to go by this alchemist’s shop and see exactly what happened, and whether or not someone needs their eye painted black.”

“No!” Starlight blurted, but she wasn’t sure why. Somewhere in the back of her head she heard an injunction, a quiet whisper. Tonight, she had to wait until tonight. “Let’s go tonight, not now.”

“Uh, alright. If you say so.” Anon took the pain medication and stuffed it in his bag. “Did you want to do anything until then? Or can you do anything until then?”

Starlight ran a mental probe. She felt okay besides drawing a blank on the morning and her every other thought being about the rhythmic pump of his dick inside of her. Stop it, brain. She looked at him and nodded. “I could eat.”

“Eat?” Panic flashed across Anon’s face. “Oh, shit. I almost forgot.” He clasped his hands together. “I need you to do me a huge favor. Well, two. First, don’t kill me when I ask, and second the favor itself.”

Starlight tilted her head. “What is it?”

Anon took a breath. “You know how I met with my ex today, right?”

“Uh huh.” Starlight wanted him to get to the point. What was he going to ask, that they engage in a threesome? Because that would be amazing. No, wait, stop it, brain.

“So, yeah. I sorta, kinda, might have told her that you were my marefriend and now she wants us to go to on a double date this evening.” Anon lowered his head as though he expected her to hammer him across it.

Starlight sat silent for a moment. “Your marefriend?” The words sounded just as strange coming from her lips, like a sentence from her favorite book, only in old ponish. She found the idea so strange, so outlandish. So why did it inflame that heat in her chest? Whatever drug was in her system must have been affecting more than she realized.

“I know, it was a bad idea. It just came out, I don’t even know why I lied.” Anon scratched his cheek. “I’ll just go back to her and tell her we’re not dating. Ugh, but she’ll be so smug. Maybe I’ll just say you died and—”

“Let’s do it,” Starlight said. The words surprised her as much as they seemed to surprise him.

“… Say what?”

Starlight smiled at him. “Sure, I’ll play along. No kissing though.” Unless he really wanted to… Damnit, enough, brain! “And you’re giving me the bits upfront to pay.”

Anon sat looking shocked for a moment, then took her hoof in his hands and bowed his forehead against it. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this. Thanks so much, fam. Deal, whatever you want.”

Starlight bit her lip as he held her hoof. He could kiss it if he wanted to, she wouldn’t object. Her tail thwapped again against the bed. Wait, was that the drug talking? She still felt so numb though. It had to be. She’d have to remember to bring that pain medication with her.

Anon released her hoof and stood. He looked cheerful. “Guess I should wash up then, then I’ll go find a flower for your mane. What should be our color?”

Starlight felt her ear flick. “Your mare’s eye color is traditional, but this doesn’t sound formal enough for that.” She lifted her butt and frowned. Her coat down there was matted and still damp. “Actually, let me wash up first. I feel like used tissue.”

“Oh. Probably a good idea.” Anon scratched behind his head. “I’ll grab some flowers just in case. purrsian blues, right? I think I saw a flower shop with some while I was out.”

Starlight felt that warmth grow. He’d paid that close attention? Most ponies she’d dated before just assumed her eyes were purple and got violets. Not that they were dating. This was just a show; a performance so Anon could save face. Those drugs were driving her crazy, clearly. “Yeah… That’s right.”

“Bet. Be back later,” Anon said with a quick wave, then headed out the door.

Starlight was alone. She hopped off the bed and walked into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror; her hair looked like it’d been rubbed against several large balloons. She flicked her tail and turned on the sink. At least she had time to fix it, she didn’t want to embarrass Anon. A mare had to look good for her stallion. Not that he was her stallion. They were just pretending. Damn drug.

It was just the drug, right?

Starlight dropped her head against the sink. She was in huge trouble.

No Plate For Two

Several hours later, Anon and Starlight walked the streets of Baltimare toward The Golden Trough.

Anon watched Starlight’s butt as they walked. He noticed her peek at him every few blocks, catch him looking, and smile. Sometimes she’d twitch or wave her tail too far and expose the edges of her labia. It was like she was… flirting with him. That was weird. He figured it was because she was under the influence of whatever concoction she’d consumed. How long would it last? Being honest, he hoped it would continue to the edge of interminability. At least she had control now, or greater control.

Starlight’s head was high, a fresh purrsian blue tucked against her ear. Her mane was combed and curled, and her coat was blessed by a subtle sheen beneath her saddlebags. When the wind wanted to tease him, it blew in his direction and he smelled the sweet scent of berries from her shampoo. She was adorable, the ideal date.

Anon felt plain in comparison. He didn’t have formal wear, and walking slouched with his hands in his khaki pockets would have made him near vagrant on earth. But ponies didn’t wear clothes except for the most special of circumstances, or if they were highbrow. His being dressed was already considered gussied. It took him several months of strange comments about his coming from a wedding or a ball before Luna explained ponies’ views on clothing. It must have seemed for them like someone running errands in a tuxedo would on earth. As strange as he still felt about it, he was overdressed for their fake date.

“This is the place,” Starlight said as they stopped at the entrance of a restaurant tucked between a perfume shop and exotic jams. Through the window Anon saw farm implements hung against the walls, horseshoes, scythes, an old plough, and the like. Interspersed around the room were old machines, like a cotton gin, a thresher, and a corn-sheller. The place looked like the interior of a barn. It reminded him of Cracker Barrel on earth, with a hint of Fridays. He wondered if it was also mid-tier. It seemed busy. There were ponies of all kinds and a few gryphons sitting at tables that looked as though they belonged in farm houses. From the name, he’d thought Burning Heart had suggested someplace fancier, but this seemed more like her kind of restaurant.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Anon said as he peeled his eyes from the rustic interior.

Starlight nodded. She was looking at the restaurant’s interior, too. “Are they in there?”

Anon scanned the tables. He didn’t know what Burning Heart’s fiancé looked like, but he didn’t see Burning Heart herself. “It doesn’t look like it. Don’t think they’ll mind if we grab a table.”

They entered together and were seated near a pillar in the center of the restaurant. Starlight removed her saddlebags and sat beside him. The restaurant smelled of fried foods and oats, like most horse eateries. Anon kept his eye on the entrance while Starlight browsed the menu. It was another five minutes before Burning Heart arrived, trailed by a stallion with a bluish grey coat and light grey mane. She spotted Anon immediately. He was easy to pick out in any equestrian crowd.

Burning Heart and her mate sat across from Anon and Starlight. The stallion looked nervous. It was a typical reaction; new ponies tended to either avert their gaze or size him up like a threat.

Anon stretched his fist toward Burning Heart. “Hey, glad you made it before we ordered.”

Burning Heart bumped it with her hoof. “We got a little preoccupied on the way here.” She gave her companion a smirk. He coughed and looked away from her. “This is Royal Riff, my fiancé. Royal Riff, this is Anonymous.”

“A pleasure,” Royal Riff said. He extended his hoof to Anon.

Anon bumped it. This stallion didn’t seem like Moonglade’s usual customers. Anon had expected some gruff bar crawler with more lice than manners. This pony seemed like he belonged in Canterlot.

“And you’re Anon’s marefriend, right?” Burning Heart said to Starlight.

Starlight nodded. “I’m Starlight Glimmer.”

“Burning Heart. You are pretty hot.” She gave Starlight an evaluative eye.

Anon puffed his chest. Epictetus said one shouldn’t be proud if their horse received a compliment, but Epictetus didn’t know Starlight. Anon was proud to be associated with her.

Starlight knocked hooves with them. “Er, thanks? Why don’t we order? I’m starving.”

They agreed. The menu was, for the most part, the typical pony faire, but they did have fish. Great. Would it kill ponies to try a bit of beef? Or would that be too close to cannibalism?

“I think I’ll have the spicy nachos as an appetizer,” Burning Heart said. “We can share them, if you can handle the heat.” She looked at Anon, eyes flashing.

“You ponies haven’t produced a food yet that I can’t stomach. Bring it on.”

“That might be a little too much for me. I think I’ll stick to the garden salad,” Starlight said.

Royal Riff nodded, eyes to his menu.

The table ordered when the server came. Anon decided to get a separate plate of nachos, sure the portions wouldn’t be enough. Burning Heart remarked that he was stretching Starlight’s wallet, but Starlight dismissed it. It was, of course, Anon paying for the meal, but Burning Heart didn’t need to know. And it would be easier to eat her under the table if he had a plate to himself.

Anon rounded on Royal Riff when the server left. Fancy though he may have been, he didn’t seem like a “trade up”. But Burning Heart wouldn’t have proposed their double date without a strategy. “So, Royal, what do you do for a living?”

Royal Riff looked up, a sheepish smile across his lips. “Well I—”

“He’s only music director for the Baltimare Symphony Orchestra,” Burning Heart said, eyes narrow and grinning. “Yeah, they tour all over Equestria and even play for the princesses sometimes.”

Damn her, he would be an important pony. Anon looked at Royal Riff, whose head was down and cheeks showing pink. Anon fixed his face into what he imagined was a polite smile, though he felt his jaw strain. “That’s pretty cool. I bet you’re pretty good, then?”

Royal Riff bowed his head. “I suppose. I studied at—”

“He’s only the best violinist in Equestria. He studied at the Canterlot Center for the Performing Arts,” Burning Heart said.

“Wow! That school is super elite. They even turned down Prince Blueblood once. The press loved it. I mean, not that he’s all that talented anyway,” Starlight said.

Double damn her. Anon clinched his pantleg, his smile felt fragile. What was this pony doing in a shady dive like Moonglade’s, and what was he doing with Burning Heart? Granted on a scale of one to ten the mare was an S-rank, but still.

Anon felt Starlight’s hoof atop his leg and he crash landed on Equus. He looked at her, there was concern in her eyes. He smiled and wrapped his fingers around her pastern. It was alright. Royal Riff may have been a successful musical genius, but Starlight had him beat. “That’s a hell of a resume, Royal. I’ll ask Luna about you next time I’m in Canterlot.”

“Princess Luna? You know her personally?” Royal Riff said a little too loud. Anon saw Burning Heart blow up her bangs. Got em.

“Oh yeah, we’re good friends.” Or used to be. “I know all the princesses, it’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re real special. But of course the princesses would be interested in an alien. I’m interested in you, Starlight.” Burning heart leaned over the table. “What do you do?”

“Me? I’m nopony special. I just—”

“She’s the personal protégé of Twilight Sparkle,” Anon said through a smirk. “And guidance councilor at the School of Friendship.”

“I um… yes.” Starlight pulled back her ears.

“I knew your name sounded familiar,” Royal Riff said. “My cousin attends Princess Twilight’s school. You helped her through a rough time.”

“Really? What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Toola Roola.”

“Oh, yeah! Toola was a big help to me, too. When Twilight and the other Elements released their journal, she—”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great,” Burning Heart said, “but did you know Royal Riff also played for the delegation from Yakyakistan? Prince Rutherford even said… What was it?”

“This best pony music yaks heard,” Royal Riff imitated a gruff yak voice, then laughed. “That’s a funny story, actually. We’d been warned beforehoof that the yaks had very special tastes, so we—”

“Uh huh, yeah, yak stories. But did you know Starlight saved Equestria from the second changeling invasion by herself?” Anon said.

“Well, not really. I couldn’t have done it without Trixie, Discord, and Thorax.” Starlight hoofed at her fork.

“Oh yeah? Well Royal Riff…” Burning Heart trailed off when the server placed a plate of nachos in front of her. Anon received his, too.

“Thank Celestia,” Starlight whispered.

Anon and Burning Heart’s eyes met.

“Stallions first,” Burning Heart said. Her horn glowed and a jalapeño lifted in front of Anon’s face. “I’d understand if you want to back out. No pressure.”

Anon gripped the pepper slice between his fingers and popped it into his mouth. Challenge accepted.

They both attacked their plates like an undeclared war on corn chips and cheese. Anon scarfed down five or more at a time while Burning Heart crushed them with magic and streamed them into her mouth. It was pure carnage, a total snack war. About half-way into his plate, Anon felt the heat, but victory was worth a few tears.

Burning Heart slammed her hoof on the table, her eyes watering too. “Let’s up the ante. Waiter, bring us both a side of your ghost pepper cheese sauce.”

The room gasped. Anon hadn’t noticed how many ponies were paying attention, or maybe it was Burning Heart who’d awakened their attention. He looked to Starlight. She was staring at her hooves. “Starlight?” He was about to touch her withers, but was interdicted by the bowl of cheese sauce slid beneath his nose. It was pungent; it burned his nostrils like chlorinated water after a bad pool dive.

“Now the real battle begins,” Burning Heart dumped her spicy cheese bowl onto what remained of her nachos. Anon felt adrenaline clench his balls. This bitch. He dumped his cheese sauce onto his plate. Hushed whispers wormed through the room as he and Burning Heart stared each other down. And then they began. Both scooped a fistful into their mouths. The first mouthful went down easy, and the second. But when Anon swallowed the third, the heat flared like a phreatic eruption. He took a sharp breath. It didn’t help.

“Not giving up now, are you?” Burning Heart said. She was panting.

Anon punched his leg. “Never.”

They inhaled their lava pools to the last chip. Anon scooped the last chip with enough cheese for three and chomped on it. His tongue, throat, and stomach screamed, but with a victorious gulp he swallowed, popped out his seat and pumped his fist. “In your FACE!” He pointed at Burning Heart.

She growled and dropped her chip.

Anon heard a jingle and a thud. A bag of bits landed on the table beside him and Starlight rose from her seat.

“Congratulations.” She said, lifted her saddlebags, and left.

“Starlight?” Anon said through a rasp. He looked at Burning Heart and Royal Riff. Both seemed shocked, too. Anon bolted after her.

Anon caught up to Starlight a block from The Golden Trough. She was walking, head down. Regret mixed with confusion in his chest, a dull ache as he mulled. “Starlight wait,” he slowed his pace when he was beside her. “What’s wrong?”

Starlight’s ear flicked. She was silent a moment, then turned toward him. “Why did you ask me to come with you?”

“I…” Anon paused. Somehow, he didn’t think ‘to show up my ex’ was a good answer. But that was the answer, wasn’t it? His gut twisted.

Starlight continued walking.

“Starlight…” Anon walked with her, but his tongue was a lead weight.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Starlight said after a few dozen paces. “You told me you’d wanted to save face.” She looked into his eyes. “But maybe I was hoping that…” Her eyes glossed over.

“Hoping what? Starlight?” Anon waved his hand in front of her face. “Hello?”

“I’m on my way,” Starlight said.

“On your way where? Starlight?”

Starlight’s horn flashed and she was gone. Anon’s whole world seemed to go with her.

Rage

Anon sat on Starlight’s bed, head in his hands. He looked at the door for the hundredth time that hour. The sun had gone down some time ago, but he hadn’t bothered to light the lantern. Maybe he should. He looked at it, but his arms wouldn’t move. Damn rebellious appendages.

But when he heard a tap at the door, his body behaved. Anon leapt from his seat and tripped over himself mid-sprint. He thudded to the ground, then scrambled to his feet and pulled on the door knob with enough force that the hinges groaned.

“Starlight?” he heard more desperation in his voice than he intended.

Rainy Days stood in the doorway, hoof raised. Anon felt his hope die.

“No. Starlight Glimmer isn’t with you?” Rainy looked past him, into the room.

“I… No, she…” Anon released the knob and walked to Starlight’s bed, then plopped on it.

Rainy Days closed the door and followed him. “Why isn’t the lantern lit?” She turned the brass cap and flame chased away darkness.

“Starlight’s gone. She left.” Anon returned his face to his palms.

“Where did she go?” Rainy hopped onto his bed and sat across from him.

Anon shook his head. “If you’re here to finish me off, go ahead.”

“I learned more about this city’s disappearances. I came for Starlight Glimmer’s help.”

Anon shrugged. “Go to the police, then.” He looked at her. Her eyebrow was raised. “Oh, right. Fugitive.”

“I think there’s a magical reason ponies are disappearing, and I don’t know any unicorn more magically gifted than Starlight Glimmer.”

“Well, like I said, she’s not here.” Anon looked at his feet. “I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“Then we need to find her.”

Anon shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

Rainy growled. “I don’t have time for this. Where did she go, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re the only… creature who knows anything about where she might be, and she’s the only pony who might be able to save this city, yet you’re content to just wallow?” Her words held a growing edge.

“I don’t care.”

“What?”

Anon looked up at her. “I don’t care what happens to this city. Those are pony problems, not mine.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Rainy dug her hooves into the bed.

“What happened?” She asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why aren’t you going after her?”

“Are you deaf? I just said she left. Why should I go chasing her down?”

Rainy leaned forward. “Because you love her.”

“What?” Anon felt his heart jump, or maybe it was already jumping rope and just tripped.

Rainy looked at the flickering lamp. She spread her wings and flexed them. “I followed you two for half a day, remember? I saw the way you looked at her. You’re in love with her.”

“You’re wrong. I…” For some reason he couldn’t choke out a denial.

“If you don’t love her, why do you follow her around like a mutt for a meal?”

“Because we… I was supposed to…” He couldn’t give an answer.

“I’ll ask again, where is Starlight Glimmer.”

“I don’t know…”

Rainy hopped off the bed. “Then let’s find her.”

Anon felt his insides dance the tango. “But what will I say to her?”

“Try ‘sorry’.”

Damnit. Now she sounded like Moonglade. Anon stood. He clinched his fist and willed his stomach to shut up for a bit. “I think I know where we can start looking.”

“Finally. Take the lead.”

Anon nodded. He and Rainy hurried from the inn. He was determined to make things right, even if it killed him.

Potions, Poultices, and Tonics was dark when Anon and Rainy arrived. In fact, the whole street was dark, except for a few gas lamps and Luna’s moon. Anon peeked through the window, but besides the outlines of shelves and the occasional glint of a bottle, he saw no movement.

“There goes my idea,” Anon said, squinting in vain hope he’d see something useful.

“Wait here, I’ll check the area from above,” Rainy said. She flapped her wings once and was high above the block an instant later. Anon whistled, she really was an ex Wonderbolt. He’d only ever seen Rainbow Dash ascend that fast.

Anon continued probing the store’s dark interior, but his attention was broken by quick hoofsteps. They sounded close, growing closer. He turned toward them, eyes narrowed, and was shocked when the pony to whom they belonged came into view.

“There you are!” Burning Heart said. She trotted to him and smiled. “I’ve been looking for you for the past like two hours.”

“Uh, hey.” Anon looked around. “How did you find me?”

“I just asked around for a big hairless ape traveling with a pink unicorn. Wasn’t hard to find the general area.”

Anon deadpanned. He didn’t know whether it was more concerning that he was so easy to find or that ponies looking for him kept calling him a hairless ape.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” Burning Heart said. “I got kinda caught up in the heat of the moment.”

Anon shook his head. “Not just your fault. I was egging you on, too.” He looked to the sky. “It reminded me of our old dates, though. Remember when we entered that horseshoe throwing contest at the fair?”

Burning Heart laughed. “That was probably the closest I’ve ever come to being arrested. I’m just glad the pony you beamed didn’t press charges.” Burning Heart looked around. “What are you doing out here, anyway? And where’s your marefriend?”

Anon sighed. “I should probably come clean. She’s not really my marefriend, just a friend. And I’m out here because I’m still looking for her.”

Burning Heart rubbed her muzzle. “That makes sense. There’s no way you’d land a mare like that, no offense.”

“Offense taken. I’ve dated plenty of beautiful mares before, you know.”

“It’s not like that,” Burning Heart chuckled. “I mean the personal protégé of the Princess of Friendship? No way somepony like that would fall for a flank chaser like you.”

Anon felt his heart sink to his knees. “Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

Anon heard a flap of wings and a set of hooves touch the cobblestone behind him.

“I think I’ve found something in the alley behind the shop,” Rainy said. She looked at Burning Heart and tilted her head. “Who is this?”

Anon turned to her. “Oh. Rainy Days, this is Burning Heart. Burning Heart, Rainy days. She’s helping me look for Starlight.”

“Nice to meet you,” Burning Heart said. She looked up at the shop. “Hey, I know this place. The owner’s a weird one. Seems like she’s only open when she feels like it. Her deliveries are always on time though.”

“She and Starlight worked together before,” Anon said. “It was the first place I thought to look.”

“I think your instincts were right,” Rainy said. “Come with me.”

They circled through the alleyway. The path behind the shop was dusty and garbage from adjacent buildings was piled beside each door. It smelled like wet socks dipped in fermented fruit. Rainy led them to the largest pile. Shock impaled Anon when he saw what was atop it. Discarded like another sack of apple cores and oat boxes were Starlight’s saddle bags. Anon picked them up and brushed dust from the purple star buckle. They were hefty, still full.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Anon said, staring at the bags. “Why would she just leave this here?”

Rainy approached the nearby cellar door and tapped the lock ringing its handles. “Tch, I need my tools.”

“Allow me, I can pick that for you,” Burning Heart said. Her horn lit and a purple glow enveloped the lock. “Ponies really should learn to enchant their locks. If they don’t…” The lock clicked and popped open. “Anypony can canter in.”

“Why… can you do that.” Anon asked as he slung Starlight’s bags over his shoulder.

Burning Heart winked. “It’s better you didn’t know.”

Rainy pulled the cellar door and scrunched her snout.

Some pungent smell wafted into Anon’s nose and he turned away. “Ugh, who’s been dissecting a corpse?”

Burning Heart lit her horn, illuminating the stairs. Anon considered what a horror movie protagonist would and should do. The should was run away and call the police. The would, walk into the creepy basement and try to find your friend without backup.

Anon took the lead. Rainy followed, and Burning Heart behind her. The descent wasn’t long, but the voice screaming in his head to turn back made every step an eternity. When he reached the bottom, Anon took a cautious peek around the corner. The room beyond was dark and quiet. When Burning Heart’s light illuminated it, he saw unrecognizable machinery and still vats of liquid. They entered, caution the word of the day.

“What is this?” Rainy said, snout over one of the vats.

Anon shook his head. “No idea, but you probably shouldn’t inhale it too much.”

“I think I might know,” Burning Heart said. She levitated a pink striped jug. “So, this is where she makes it.” She looked to Rainy. “We get these delivered to us every few days. It’s basically water, but the mare who owns this shop laces it with some kind of aphrodisiac. It’s pretty good for business.”

“Aphrodisiac?” Anon repeated. “Is it strong? Like make a pony sex crazed strong?”

Burning Heart shook her head. “You’d have to drink a lot to get like that.”

“Or maybe drink a high enough concentration.” Anon looked into the same vat as Rainy.

“Why do you say that?” Burning asked.

Anon shook his head. “It’s not important. Or, maybe it is? I’m not sure yet.” He looked around, then saw another room almost obscured by shelves and tubing. “Let’s try back there,” he pointed.

The mares agreed. They went together into the back room, Burning Heart leading for better illumination. Inside were a few, smaller machines and a table with stacks of papers and a few vials. Anon approached the table and picked up a sheet. It was covered with scribbled alchemical formulas. He recognized some form of stoichiometry, and thermodynamic calculations in the margins, and the structural formula of some phenethylamine derivative. But that was about it. The rest was odd runes, alien looking symbols, and some language that wasn’t Ponish, or English, or anything he’d read before. For the first time since arriving in Equestria, Anon wished Twilight was there. She’d know what to do; she always knew what to do.

She was also a much better friend than he turned out to be.

“Look at this,” Rainy said, flipping through a stack. Anon peered at the papers at which she was looking. They looked like receipts.

“What about them?” Anon asked.

“Their names, they’re all…”

“Ponies who’ve disappeared!” Burning Heart completed her sentence. “Look, it’s Mr. Sandy, Shallow Gourde, even Ms. Skysong. I haven’t seen at the lounge them in weeks.”

Rainy slammed her hoof on the table. “Damn. So, this is what’s happening.” She looked at Anon. “It looks like Starlight Glimmer didn’t leave of her own accord.”

“She was taken.” His words reverberated in his chest. He gritted his teeth. Something primal flared inside him, something protective. But it brought a friend, anxiety. Starlight was in trouble, and Anon realized it was the scariest thought he could conjure. “But where are they? Definitely not here.”

“What about there?” Burning Heart said. She pointed to a diagram of Trotero Water Treatment Facility.

Rainy’s eyes became saucers. “We have to go. Now.”

Anon wasn’t sure he understood, but he was grasping the pieces. “We should really get the police. This could be bad.”

“I’ll go,” Burning Heart said. “It’ll give me an excuse for Moonglade. She’s going to be pissed I didn’t show up tonight.”

“We don’t have time to wait for the police,” Rainy said. “Let’s go ahead. Move as swiftly as you can, Burning Heart.”

“I know!” Burning Heart said. She gathered the receipts with her magic and dashed away. Anon and Rainy followed.

Anon felt panic foaming within him. If this was what it appeared, Starlight was one of many ponies in big trouble.

Thirty minutes later Anon and Rainy were at Baltimare’s water treatment facility on the city’s outskirts. The gate was unguarded. In fact, the facility would have seemed abandoned were it not for the hum of the mixers in the flocculation basins and the putrid smell of scum and pre-treated water.

The facility was a mixture of familiar and foreign. Ponies were in many ways pre-industrial, but their magical proficiency often yielded more efficient processes than would be available on earth. Anon marveled at how, without electricity, he could hear water pumping between towering, stone tanks. He and Rainy walked between these behemoths, a bright crystal affixed every ninety degrees around each tank their light source. Large pipes connected the tanks from above, and the sound of rushing water echoed in the cavernous construct.

And beyond the forest of water tanks were two large reservoirs into which the chain of pipes fed. These were separated by a wide, stone walkway. Each reservoir stretched at least a football field, and were half a field across, and their depths seemed greater than the sum of their length and width. The smell here was fresh, like an untouched lake. Beyond the reservoirs was a building from which a number of pipes fed—Anon assumed a pumping station—and above each reservoir floated more crystals. And along the walkway were lined two dozen ponies at least, separated by equipment and stacked barrels, the contents of which Anon already knew.

Anon and Rainy approached the walkway unobstructed. At the far end he saw her. Starlight stood beside a light blue unicorn whose eyes were glued to a clipboard. “Starlight!” Anon was set to rush forward, but he was blocked by Rainy’s outstretched wing.

“Keep your head, Anonymous,” Rainy said, voice low. “Our first priority has to be stopping them from dumping those chemicals into the water supply.”

Anon looked to Starlight again and adjusted her saddlebags atop his shoulder. “How?”

“I’ll rush them from the front,” Rainy said. “You use the distraction to free Starlight Glimmer.”

“Right,” Anon said. Though he wasn’t sure how he’d free her. His last rescue involved a stage and an army. This was a more… metaphorical captivity.

No one had noticed them, though. That was their advantage. It helped that all except the light blue unicorn were zombies. They stood statue still, eyes wide, pupils wider, at least those he could see.

Rainy days spread her wings and counted down. Anon remembered the last time he’d felt so nervous, after being dropped in a land of talking horses and told he’d never return home. He felt nostalgic for that existential dread.

“Now!” Rainy flew forward, down a side of the stone walkway. Ponies near the edge were knocked over like bowling pins, and a few into the water.

Anon sprinted down the middle toward Starlight and the other unicorn. He noticed that none of the ponies along the reservoir moved, as though the commotion were a mere breeze.

“W-what are you doing?” He heard the light blue unicorn say. “Stop!”

Rainy rose above them, spun, then flew down the opposite side. She passed Anon when he was almost to Starlight.

“You d-don’t understand! W-why are you— Oof!”

Anon pushed the unicorn aside and knelt in front of Starlight.

“I’m here! Starlight!” he said and placed a hand on her cheek. Her eyes remained empty. Anon rested his forehead against hers. His throat burned with unshed tears and he ran his fingers through her mane. “Please, we need you…”

He heard the other unicorn stand and felt the tingle of magic surrounding him.

“Get away from her!” the other unicorn flung him away, into a stack of barrels. They crashed around him. Several splintered. They spilled their pungent contents over the walkway and into the reservoir.

Anon felt pain shoot through his back and arm. The contents of Starlight’s saddlebags spilled onto the stone, including a familiar bottle.

Rainy touched down in front of him, wings wide. “Your plan’s finished. Release these ponies’ minds.”

The light blue unicorn shook. She levitated a flask and glared at Rainy. “Y-you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m trying to stop her!”

Rainy bolted forward and tackled the unicorn, knocking away her flask.

Anon grabbed the bottle of pain killer, then struggled to his feet. He limped to Starlight and uncorked it. “Here, drink.”

Starlight stared through him.

Anon tilted the bottle against her lips, but the liquid dribbled down her muzzle. “Starlight…”

A cackle paralyzed him. Rainy days was tossed away, into the reservoir.

Anon looked to the light blue unicorn. She stood, trembling, her face fluctuating between horror and mirth.

“N-no, I… She’s coming.” She began laughing again, then her head dropped.

“What the furious fuck.” Anon took a step back. The little voice in his head returned. It told him to flee, to get to the other side of the continent. But he couldn’t. Starlight was there.

The unicorn looked up. Her eyes flashed malice. Her face was one, big grin.

“Finally.” The unicorn’s voice was silk. “Oh, and I see we’re just about ready. We only need to clear the trash.” Her eyes became like spotlights and wind whipped across the treatment plant. “Hear me, ponies. Dispose of the intruders.” Her voice boomed, as though she were on a loudspeaker.

A hundred hooves shifted at once and Anon felt half-a-hundred eyes on him. He clutched the bottle. “Right. Starlight, now would be a good time to not be a mind slave.”

Starlight was looking at him now, too. Her horn glowed bright blue.

“Shit.” Anon jumped aside. A white-hot explosion of magical energy missed him by inches. He rolled and felt some of the bottle’s contents spill against his arm. “Fuck!”

“Marvelous! You’re just as powerful as I remember, Starlight,” the other unicorn said.

Anon stood and looked at the bottle. He hoped there was enough left. He turned toward Starlight, but was knocked spinning. A stallion rammed into him full gallop. He tumbled and landed face down at the walkway’s edge. He heard a trickle and quickly turned the bottle upright.

He stared up and yelped. A green pegasus dove toward him, but was slammed aside by a blue and black blur before she could splatter him.

Rainy landed beside Anon, breathing labored. “Hurry up and snap Starlight Glimmer out of it.”

Anon sat up and looked at the bottle. At this rate, his single recourse would be dry before he could use it. He steeled his resolve, brought it to his lips, and swigged what remained. His cheeks filled to capacity and his mouth numbed, but he did not swallow.

Three earth ponies charged them. Rainy spread her wings. “Go! Now!” She counter charged. She met one with the side of her hoof, a second with a powerful swipe of her wing, and the third with a headbutt.

“Oh, how exciting. But that’s enough fun,” the light blue unicorn said. “Starlight, dear,” her features grew sadistic, “end this for me, will you?”

Starlight’s horn lit again, a great magical swell, the brightest thing in the facility.

Anon glorped. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted toward her.

Three crystalline spears formed around Starlight’s head. They fired at Anon in succession. He side-stepped the first, dove beneath the second, and rolled before the third could skewer him. He pushed to his feet and bounded in reach of Starlight, arm outstretched.

Anon hoped she’d forgive him for this. As Starlight’s horn glowed anew, he grasped the back of her head and pulled her forward. Her lips met his and she gasped. He emptied the anti-inflammatory from his mouth into hers. Then a terrible pain, like superheated iron, pierced him. He released her.

Anon looked down. Oh, there was a spear through the left side of his abdomen, extending into the ground. That wasn’t there before. He slumped forward and slid down its length. Through his blurred vision he saw Starlight drop on folded forelegs, coughing. He smiled past the hornet’s nest writing in his gut.

“Tag… out.” He closed his eyes. The darkness was nice.

Starlight drew a deep breath, but her coughing fit continued. Her body felt nonexistent, but screamed at her at the same time, and her head felt like it contained derailing freight train.

“Wh.. What?” She wheezed. Her eyes struggled to focus. She heard angry neighing, the struggle of hooves and wings, and rushing water. Where was she? In front of her was… Rainy Days? And a lot of ponies. And…

Starlight looked down and lost her breath again. Worse, she couldn’t breathe. Anon. Anon was lying before her, a purple spear sticking from his back. And there was… There was blood. His blood. She touched him with her hoof. Sorrow, confusion, and disbelief vied inside her.

She touched the spear and it vibrated with magic. Her magic. Memory rushed into her, a tsunami of images and impressions. They frothed in her, swirled. They were a twister in her mind. Everything dropped away, and then she felt clarity. And then rage.

Starlight screamed. She wasn’t sure how loud, she wasn’t sure how long.

And the world quaked.

She felt magic swell in her. It flooded her senses and pushed even the numbness and pain away. It needed an outlet. The stone beneath her hooves cracked. Every muscle in her body tensed.

Everypony was still now. All eyes were on her; they were afraid. Even in their stupor, they knew.

Starlight spoke one word, “Sleep”. The ponies around Rainy dropped. Every pony further down the walkway fell.

Starlight turned to Chloride. The latter was grinning, it made Starlight sick.

Starlight lifted her hoof, then lowered it. It crackled like water in a firepit.

“That look,” Chloride said. “Don’t lose that look. It’s intoxicating.”

Fury washed through Starlight and magic surged through her horn. She lifted her head. The water on both sides bubbled and swirled. Two torrents lifted toward the sky.

“Oh, Delightful!” Chloride said.

“Get away from here,” Starlight said to Rainy. She glanced at Anon and a blue shield surrounded him. “I don’t know what will happen.”

Rainy nodded. “I’ll take as many of these ponies as I can.”

Starlight returned to Chloride. She lifted her horn again and closed her eyes. One of the torrents became a great tentacle. She swiped downward and the watery limb slammed atop Chloride. Stone splintered and glass shattered in the building beyond.

When the tentacle lifted, Chloride stood beneath a green shield. Around her was crushed stone. “That’s it. But you’ll need to do more.”

Starlight exhaled. She opened her eyes. Droplets separated from the water and surrounded her. They shaped into needles and froze. Starlight lifted her hoof. She pointed at Chloride.

Hundreds of needles rained. They shredded stone in their path like paper. Chloride swept to the side, horn alight and dashed from the onslaught’s range.

Starlight knew the spell. Exelero. She followed Chloride with her hoof and the barrage obeyed.

Chloride dashed onto the water, weaving around, always just out of range.

Starlight rotated as she followed with her hoof.

Chloride flitted from the water, across the stone walkway. Needles crashed upon it, splintering dozens of barrels.

Chloride crossed into the second reservoir and Starlight lifted her horn. The tentacle spun and slammed. A large wave washed more barrels off the stone, but Chloride continued running. She reached the walkway again and the process repeated.

Starlight’s magic chased Chloride around the reservoir, until the latter crossed her path. She was in range. Starlight swiped her horn once and shackles erupted from the ground. They snaked around Chloride’s legs and she tripped and landed in a tangle of glowing chains that slithered across her body, then squeezed.

Starlight approached.

Chloride squirmed and struggled until Starlight stood above her. “Hah, haha! I’d expect nothing less from the great Starlight Glimmer.” Chloride’s grin returned. “You did alone in moments what twenty ponies could not in a week. Splendid.”

Starlight followed Chloride’s line of sight. Along the walkway, almost every barrel had been broken. Blue liquid seeped and bubbled and spilled into the water.

“Now this city belongs to me,” Chloride said.

Starlight winced. So that was her game. She returned her gaze to Chloride and put her hoof upon the chains, tightening them.

“Guh. It’s too late, Glimmer. I’ve won. Do what you wish, I will be in everypony. I will be a go—ack!”

Starlight lifted Chloride into her hooves and hugged her.

“What are you doing?” Chloride protested.

“Forgiving you,” Starlight said. She released Chloride and turned toward the reservoirs. She lifted her horn one more time. The water foamed and frothed, then it began to boil. Vapors lifted toward the sky, condensed, and took shape. A large cloud of tainted water that grew larger by the second, until both sides of the reservoir were dry.

“No, stop that! How are you doing that?”

Starlight lifted her hooves and the cloud floated toward the sea. It rumbled and twirled, and when she sensed it was over the ocean, she sighed. The cloud released a deluge. Starlight felt the magic within her subside. She felt relief, then lost her balance and dropped.

“No! This cant be happening! How dare you. How DARE you!” Chloride continued to struggle. She cursed and moaned. Starlight ignored her.

Starlight wobbled to her hooves and walked to Anon. The shield around him dissipated and she nuzzled into him. She felt too tired to cry. As a rumble of hooves and voices flooded the facility, she laid by his side. Nothing else held weight.

Starlight was still by Anon’s side a couple days later in the Baltimare General Hospital. She watched him sleep, head rested on the edge of his bed.

The police had asked her a lot of questions when they found them. They continued asking even as a medical team took Anon to the hospital. She wouldn’t speak to them. They stopped asking after a time. Starlight later learned Rainy Days told them everything they needed to know. That was well, she wasn’t in the mood to talk.

They’d done something with Chloride, she wasn’t sure. Starlight didn’t care. She’d failed again to help somepony she’d left broken. Chloride’s alter-ego, Salt Water, would not return without that concoction. The brew Starlight had helped to create. The elixir that could soothe, seduce, and control.

Starlight placed her hoof on Anon’s hand. She felt tears stream down her face.

There was a knock. Starlight didn’t look at the pony who entered. She didn’t have to.

“How is he?” Rainy Days said. She sat beside Starlight.

“When he’s awake he babbles. He has a lot of drugs in his system,” Starlight said.

“All the missing ponies have returned home. They’re still recovering their memories, but are otherwise not bad.”

Starlight nodded.

“Are you going to tell me what happened back there? I’ve seen powerful magic before, but not like that,” Rainy said.

Starlight remained quiet.

Rainy shifted. “I’m leaving the city today. We’re all over the news and I don’t want the royal guard coming after me.”

Starlight nodded. She felt Rainy’s hoof on her withers.

“… I was wrong about you guys. Maybe about a lot of things.” She paused. Starlight saw her look away. “I was thinking about your offer. I think… It’d be a good idea.”

Starlight nodded.

“I’m going north, back home. If you’re ever in the area…”

“We’ll find you,” Starlight said. “Thanks. For your help.”

Rainy looked surprised. She dropped her hoof and stood. “Take good care of him. And don’t forget your promise, you clear my name and I join you. As your student.”

“I won’t.”

Rainy flicked her tail and looked at Anon, then she left.

Starlight remained at Anon’s bedside into the evening. The nurses offered her food, but she refused it.

She was resting, eyes closed, when she felt something brush through her mane. When she looked up, she felt like a filly on Hearth’s Warming.

Anon was looking at her, his fingers curling through her hair. “Sup?”

Starlight’s vision blurred. Those tears again, always in the way. She nuzzled his hand. “You idiot. Is that all you have to say?”

“I’m hungry,” Anon said. “Please tell me this place has beef.”

Starlight hopped onto the bed beside him and rubbed her nose on his face. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I shouldn’t have… You never should have…”

Anon pressed a finger to her lips. “Sorry.”

“I… what?” Starlight stammered.

“When we started traveling together, all I wanted was to get you in bed. Sorry.” Anon looked away from her. “I shouldn’t have tried to use you like that.”

Starlight buried her face in his chest. Why were there so many tears? Why wouldn’t this warmth in her chest go away?

“I’m not… worth all of that,” she said. She felt Anon shift. He wrapped his arm around her.

“Idiot…” Anon said. He didn’t move his arm. Not for a long time.

The doctors later complained when they saw Starlight in Anon’s bed. She told the faggots to buck off.

The New Normal

Starlight awoke at dawn the day she and Anon were to leave for Fillydelphia. Anon’s stay in the hospital was short, a few days. Though he protested, Starlight gave him another day to recover. Anon professed repeated admiration for Equestrian medicine. He told her that, in his world, healing was in large part left to the body alone. Starlight imagined without magic, humans could be incapacitated for weeks or months. What kind of strain might that put on individuals and herds? It was a disquieting thought.

But as she felt his arm’s weight around her barrel and the steady, unlabored expansion of his chest against her back, her mind was at ease. He was safe.

Starlight rolled to face him. He was still locked in deep, abiding slumber.

Anon was the first creature she’d met undisturbed by her snoring. She even woke herself sometimes. She remembered the worried knocking when she led Our Town. The ponies there thought she was being mauled. She wondered why it didn’t bother him. At times the human had a bat’s ears, even a sniffle was a nuisance. But never from her. It was a strange quirk, one of many. They’d grown on her.

He had another quirk. It presented itself now through his boxers. Starlight felt it poking her stomach. She shuddered. Her heart rate rose, from “all clear” to “slight problem”.

Were humans in perpetual arousal? She was sure he he’d been flaccid the night before. They’d snuggled and chatted, and he fell asleep as she was writing to Twilight. Her quill and parchment were still on the nightstand beside his bed.

Maybe he was feigning sleep? She pressed her nose to his chin. He grumbled, but didn’t stir. She did it again, this time into his neck. Nothing. Well, almost nothing. Starlight felt his tip twitch. She thwapped her tail.

Oh, no. Was it Chloride’s potion again? That should have passed through her system days ago. Her excuse was gone. Starlight pulled back her ears. It was her. It was him.

Starlight felt her cheeks warm. Did this mean she was… She was attracted to Anon? But why? Just two weeks before, she… He… But that was a play on a different stage, a retired script. Now, their pressed bodies, his gentle breath and strong grip... Her tail thwapped again.

She shook her head, her breath caught. What would ponies say? What would her dad say? What would Sunburst say?

Starlight wiggled backward, away from Anon’s bulge. Sunburst, that’s right. After their reunion, she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t be involved with another pony until he was ready. Sunburst‘s perpetual distraction and consummate disinterest aside, she wanted to keep that vow.

Anon’s arm tensed. He raked her in like a bear to a fish. His shaft was sandwiched between them now. It felt warm through his shorts’ thin fabric. Starlight couldn’t control her breathing. Should it have been faster? Slower? She dipped her muzzle against his chest.

She was getting ahead of herself, this was an involuntary biological response. A pulsing, tinder, frim biological response. She shivered.

She shouldn’t have been here, shouldn’t have been in his bed. It just happened. Well, kind of. She’d meant to change beds after he’d fallen asleep, but…

Starlight lifted her head and tucked her muzzle beneath his chin. It was nice to be held like this again. It had been years. She pressed into him and closed her eyes. This much was okay.

She brushed her body upward. Anon’s dick trembled. She whined, then brushed downward. It twitched. Starlight bit her lip. Her labia felt warm. Sisters help her. She needed to stop.

But maybe if she were to just… Just for a bit. Starlight pushed backward enough to lower her hoof. She dragged it across Anon’s boxers. He groaned. She stopped. He settled. She rested it on his shaft and pressed down like a leaf on a pond’s surface. It required the barest force. It was already right there…

Anon’s penis plopped out through his fly.

Starlight’s ear twitched. It was so different from a stallion’s. She placed her hoof atop it and pushed it against her stomach. How much would it fill? How deep could it go? It throbbed and a moan slipped past her lips.

Anon shifted and Starlight’s heart jumped into her throat. She snapped her eyes shut. She felt him rustle, heard a querying hum, and then his fingers traveled up her back. She opened an eye like a foal peeking for monsters.

Anon was looking at her through weary lids. He smiled. “Morning,” he said in a rasp.

“Hi,” Starlight squeaked.

Anon adjusted, his dick brushed across her belly, then he froze. He looked down, then wrenched away from her and turned over. “Sorry! I didn’t realize…” He fumbled to stuff his cock into his boxers.

Starlight ached. She wanted to say “don’t” or “it’s okay,” but her mouth refused the words. She tucked her tail between her legs. She felt wetter than she’d realized. Her ears flattened against her head. She slid out the bed.

“My bad,” Anon mumbled. He was looking in her direction, but avoided her eyes.

Starlight nodded and looked at the ground. “I’m going to take a shower.” She walked into the bathroom and shut the door. She leaned against it. Her legs felt like overcooked noodles. She felt a trickle down her leg and looked down.

What she really needed was a jump in a frozen lake.

Anon groaned, sat up, and knocked on his skull like he was testing a melon. The way she left the bed, her lowered head, her disappointed eyes. Starlight was furious, he was sure of it.

He had done well before then, at least during his recovery. He’d kept his hands above her croup, restrained his words, his eyes; he’d danced atop glass shards. But J.P. Willy couldn’t stick to his tent.

Anon dropped his head in his hands. He remembered Burning Heart’s words. Why would someone like Starlight fall for a flank chaser like him. He knew the answer: She wouldn’t.

He rose from bed and walked to the bathroom door. He heard water running. He lifted his arm to knock, but his fist was a sponge. He returned to his bed and sat and thought.

Starlight emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later. Her mane and tail drooped, wet. Water glistened across her coat. Droplets traveled her sinews, outlined her curves. For the love of Christ, J.P., keep your head down.

Starlight hid her face from him. Her horn glowed, her coat dried and her mane frizzed. She pulled a brush from her saddlebags. “We should get to the train station early.”

Anon realized he was staring. He looked anywhere else. “Yeah, sure.”

Anon washed too, a somber affair, then dressed. When they checked out, Swift Service prodded them with ten thousand questions. Starlight pushed through the conversation in her usual, affable way. Anon admired her penchant for awkward small talk. He was no more interested in discussing the last few days than her. Thinking about it, they’d shared few words about it. It wasn’t that they were avoiding the events, or at least he wasn’t. Maybe they shared an implicit understanding.

He thought about what they understood as they walked down Baltimare’s cobbled roads. Something was different, or maybe a lot of somethings.

“Do you want to say goodbye to your friends?” Starlight’s words snapped him from a daze.

Anon mulled for a second. He looked at Starlight. She was still avoiding his eyes.

“Nah,” he admitted.

“Why not?”

Anon shrugged. “It’s not something I’ve ever done.”

“You should communicate with your friends better,” Starlight said.

“I guess.” Anon kept and discrete eye on her. She was the one he wanted better communication with.

They entered Baltimare station as the sun settled on solid course to midday. High arches, stone columns, and a large clock. Now this was a train station. Anon grabbed a bench seat while Starlight grabbed their tickets. He knew he had to say something, but every thought fell apart. Be honest, sure, but that was like saying virtue meant doing the right thing to the right degree. A lot to be imagined there.

He was still flummoxed when Starlight sat beside him.

“At least our seats are together this time,” Starlight said as she handed him a ticket.

Anon fingered his ticket and stared at it as though it were interesting. “About this morning…” It was go-time, Anon. He just had to say what was on his mind and hope it was witty and reassuring. “It’s not that you aroused me or anything.” No, that… No…

“What?” Starlight looked at him, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. But at least she was looking at him, even if it was in the way one would look at a suicide attempt.

One of those would go down well right now.

“I, uh. What I mean is, well,” his brain scrambled. He had to pull it together. “You did, but that’s not why I was hard.” Better, but reel it back. “I mean I didn’t mean to touch you with it. I’d never do that.”

“Oh.” Starlight’s ears drooped. Wait, was that back too far. He just had to spit it out.

“I mean I would! But not like that!” Alright, this was self-immolation. He squeezed his ticket “What I mean is, this morning was an accident.”

“You’re ruining it,” Starlight said, looking at his hands.

“I know. This is even harder to say than I thought it would be.”

“No, your ticket.”

Anon paused. He unclenched his hand and looked down. His ticket was wrinkled. “Oops.”

Starlight laughed. The sound emptied anxiety from him like the release of a jammed tap. She placed her hoof on his leg. He felt his heart float. She was looking in his eyes.

“I didn’t mind it,” she said.

“You… didn’t?” The morning reran through his head. “I thought that… I mean, you seemed like you were upset with me.”

Starlight’s nose gave an almost imperceptible wrinkle. “I wasn’t. I’m not. To be honest I sort of, kind of, liked it just a little.” Her words shrank as she spoke.

Anon opened his mouth, then closed it. He placed his palm atop her hoof. They both looked at it.

“Your hand’s warm,” Starlight said after a few moments.

“Oh, sorry.” Anon moved to lift it, but Starlight pinned it with her other hoof. He looked at her face. Her eyes were twinkling. Did they always do that?

“Inns in Filly are expensive,” Anon said softly. His heart beat was perceptible. “It might be cheaper to get a room with one bed.”

“It could get cramped,” Starlight said. She kept his gaze.

“Would it bother you?”

“Not if it doesn’t bother you.”

Anon shook his head.

Their train arrived on time. The ride was just as loud as the trip to Baltimare. Anon didn’t notice.

The Horsehead

Rainy rotated the newspaper and pushed it across the table. Her picture scowled at her alongside Starlight Glimmer’s. “What’s your point?” She said, then lifted the coffee cup to her lips.

“Your cooperation could seal our success,” Silver Bell said. She lowered her hoof atop Starlight’s picture.

Rainy tried to find her eyes beneath the brown cloak. “You’re joking.”

“I am not known for levity.”

Rainy put down her cup, irritation scratching her spine. “No.”

Silver Bell twisted her hoof atop the paper. “Don’t forget everything I’ve done for you, Rainy Days. I brought you into our fold, I gave you purpose.”

Rainy looked into her cup. “I’ve done my service.”

“It would be unfortunate if the guard were to learn where you’re going,” Silver Bell’s voice was sharp.

Rainy lowered her voice, “Watch who you threaten.”

“You are threatened, then?” Silver Bell smirked. “Would you like to know a secret about her?”

Rainy wanted to say no, she wanted her curiosity to stay quiet. “What?”

“She once enslaved an entire village.”

Rainy saw the coffee quiver in her cup. “And?”

“She stripped them of their cutie marks.”

Rainy was quiet.

“She’s dangerous,” Silver Bell said. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“You won’t succeed,” Rainy said. “If she wanted, she could kill us all.”

“She is not without her vulnerabilities.” Silver Bell flipped over the newspaper. “Be passive if you wish.” She rose and left the café. Rainy watched her disappear into a crowd. She looked to the newspaper again. The caption read Local Sasquatch Sets Nacho Eating Record.

There was a picture of Anon standing over an empty plate.

Fillydelphia, city of sisterly love. After leaving the station, a strange mixture of art deco and neoclassical, Starlight and Anon walked the city streets, looking for a place to stay. Filly blended contemporary and historic. Equestria’s first medical school, library, and hospital, hidden in a forest of Manehattanesque high-rises. The University City, near the station in which they arrived, was home to two of the region’s most prestigious universities. The first was Clover University, famed for its medical research. The second was University of Fillydelphia, well ranked for magical and scientific instruction, and Starlight’s alma mater.

Walking the twin campuses, Starlight felt nostalgic, a feeling foreign to her typical reminiscence. They travelled Woodland Walk, a tree-lined trail that cut diagonally through the university. Starlight remembered galloping it, the leaves in autumn, and her first kiss by the statue of Starswirl, in front of the office of undergraduate admissions.

That last memory warmed her face. It was a terrible kiss—her mouth was dry, and the colt closed his eyes too soon and bumped his lip against her tooth—but it was unforgettable. She walked closer to Anon’s side. She could repeat the experience with a more mature partner. She shook the thought.

Anon uttered the occasional, appreciative “ooh” or “ah”. He was such a tourist. He’d told her this part of the city was new to him. His several stays in Fillydelphia had been short, a few weeks at most, and “right to business”, whatever that meant. Starlight had the luxury of deciding in what part of town they’d stay, and she knew no corner better than this campus. The rooms would be cheaper than staying downtown, and she could show Anon her favorite haunts. Besides, it was on campus that she needed to complete the next stage of their flagging apology tour.

Starlight paused before a brown, clock tower topped building. It was a monolith, a brick behemoth whose dark windows and yawning double doors were myriad eyes and a mouth ready for supper.

Anon stopped beside her, hands in his pockets. “Reminds me of Old Main from my college days.”

“It’s the thaumatology building,” Starlight said.

“Huh. Seems like an oxymoron. Why’d we stop here?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m surprised. It hasn’t really changed,” Starlight said. “I spent so much time here. Honestly, the place still intimidates the heck out of… Hey! Where are you going?”

Anon was half-way up the stairs. He paused and looked toward her. “I’m going to check it out. You coming?”

Starlight flattened her ears. “Maybe we should find a room first.”

“And walk all the way back later? No way, we’re right here.” Anon frowned. “You okay, fam?”

“I…” Starlight shifted. It was just a building, nothing to be afraid of. Just a big, soul sucking building, the epicenter of bad decisions and broken dreams. Starlight swallowed. “I’m coming.”

They entered together. The high ceiling was a painted mural of Celestia bestowing books to outstretched hooves. Starlight always thought it melodramatic, if well done. Anon put his hands on his hips and stared up.

“Her butt’s way bigger than that.”

“Anon!” Starlight started to chide, but then she looked, too. “Actually, yeah.”

“Tell her it’s impossible, absolutely impossible!” A deep, irate voice echoed through the hall, accompanied by two sets of hooves. “And her persistence makes it no more possible.” Starlight recognized the voice; it snatched her eyes from mural-Celestia’s rear. Two stallions, both unicorns, rounded the corner. The first was stout and red with a blonde ducktail beard and wearing black robes. The second was a slim, blue unicorn in a sweater vest with a yellowish grey mane. It was the red stallion’s voice she heard: Professor Medraut. The other pony, Top Marks, had his eyes to a parchment.

“The alumni association won’t be pleased,” Top Marks said.

“They can keep their bits. I educated half those fussbudgets myself, so they should know better.” Medraut paused when he saw Starlight. She wanted to shrink, to disappear, but that would have been wiser if it weren’t retrospect.

“Is that… Starlight Glimmer?” Medraut said. He trotted to her and beamed. “As I live and breathe, it is.”

“Hello, professor.” Starlight said. She offered her hoof like it was a job interview, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I can’t believe it, how many moons has it been? And what’s this?” He looked at Anon. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a specimen like this. Is it yours?”

Anon sighed.

“Professor, the meeting,” Top Marks said.

“Right, right. Starlight Glimmer, you remember Top Marks. Or were you still a lecturer in Canterlot then, Marks?”

Top Marks nodded his head at Starlight. “Charmed. We met once, I believe. You were researching cutie marks with the professor?”

“I… I was,” Starlight wanted to be anywhere else.

“I daresay I was researching with her,”Medraut said. “Starlight, did you ever solve that transposition conundrum? I had some thoughts on it myself, or did a number of moons ago. I always return to a perdurantist account when studying the destiny versus talent problem.”

“Professor? The meeting?” Top Marks said.

“Oh, right, right. Starlight meet me at my office tomorrow around midday. I have a lot to discuss with you.”

“Well I…”

“Excellent, I’ll see you then. Now as I was saying, we can rely on grant funding for the time being…” Medraut and Top Marks continued down the hall. The professor’s voice petered off.

“What the hell just happened?” Anon said, staring in the direction they’d disappeared.

Starlight lowered her head. “Academia.” She felt sick. Thank Celestia her stomach was empty.

They rented a room at The Horsehead, an inn across from the performing arts building, near the campus center. It was a good-sized room. The carpet was generic, rough enough to wonder if it still had its natural texture or was so caked with dirt and fluids that it’d grown stiff. At least it smelled clean. There was a dresser along the wall beneath a painting of a field and fence, and by the curtained window was a small table with two cushions. They had a bit to eat, but Starlight’s anxious stomach left little room hunger, and Anon hadn’t eaten a large meal since his surgery; said it wasn’t worth the cramps.

They laid together in bed. Anon flipped through his black book while Starlight scratched at parchment and poured over Principles of Thaumaturgy. He’d told her not to worry a few times, words that betrayed he didn’t understand why she was worried.

“We’re only talking about the guy who leads the nation in cutie mark research,” Starlight said. “You don’t meet with him unprepared.”

“Can I just point out you’re not being graded,” Anon replied.

“It doesn’t matter.” Starlight paused. She scanned the last line she’d written, then scratched it out. “I’ve got to do this, and I need to make sure I know my stuff.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll make this smoother.”

“What?”

“Talking it out with him.”

“Is that important?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it was his research I stole before founding Our Town.”

Anon closed his book. “Oh.” He rolled onto his side, facing her. “So… Studying, huh?”

“And the worst part is, I don’t even think he realizes what he discovered.”

“What do you mean?”

Starlight looked at her hoof. How could she explain without using technical language? Anon was an idiot, but he wasn’t dumb, just magic illiterate. “Sometimes a pony’s magical talent is outstripped by what they know.”

“What, like they know spells they can’t cast?”

“Sort of.” Starlight looked at him. He looked curious, it was cute. She liked this face more than disinterest. “You can’t really know what you can’t cast. It doesn’t work like that. Magic has both a conscious and an intuitive dimension. If you can’t cast a spell, you don’t know it fully.”

“Sounds kind of like math,” Anon said. “It’s one thing to know a concept, but unless you can adapt it concretely, you don’t understand.”

Starlight nodded, proud of him for the analogy. “Kind of like that. You might master channeling, focus, and incantation, but it doesn’t mean anything if you can’t adapt it.”

“How come he didn’t realize what he discovered, then?” Anon asked.

“Everything he’d written about transferring cutie marks was right, but he couldn’t test it. Or he could, but his test failed. The spell didn’t work for him.”

“But it did for you?”

Starlight nodded. “With a few adjustments. Honestly, I’m not sure how many ponies it could work for. It’s pretty high-level magic.”

Anon shrugged. “That sounds alright then. I mean, it seems like you completed it for him, right?”

“Yes… But what did I use it for?” Starlight felt her anxiety flare again. “What will he say when he knows that part?”

Anon wrapped his arm around her. She lowered her quill and snuggled into him, facing away. She let exasperation slip her lips.

“Remember when we first met?” Anon asked, fingers brushing up and down her barrel.

“How can I forget? Small villages don’t get a lot of visitors, least of all bipedal visitors.”

“You told me you’d created harmony,” Anon said.

Starlight felt a flash of embarrassment. What was he getting at? She wanted to pull away, but the way he caressed her body felt affectionate, comforting. She decided to trust where he was steering the conversation. “Yes, I remember saying that.”

“You said it was because no one was more special than anyone else. But that was bullshit.”

Starlight flinched. Her time in Our Town was far behind her, but it still stung to hear him speak of it that way, as though she didn’t have enough regrets. She tried to slip out of his grip, but he tightened it, firm but gentle.

“Wait, I’m not done,” Anon said. “It was bullshit because of you. Because there is nothing you can do to remove what’s special about you.”

“What?” she said. It came out more protest than question.

Anon was quiet for a bit. She imagined he was thinking. His fingers continued their stride against her chest. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “You’re decisive, direct, impulsive. That stuff has nothing to do with your cutie mark.”

Starlight looked to him. He met her eyes. The idiot had no idea the flame he was fanning in her chest.

“But since you moved to Ponyville, you’ve been different,” he said.

Starlight’s heart skipped. “Different how?”

Anon’s eyes grew a little sad. “You’re… more diffident.”

Diffident? What did he… It hit her. On the Stage in Stableton, in the basement with Ms. Chloride, hours before with Medraut. What if she had just acted? And there was one more place she’d been hesitating.

“It’s been happening more lately,” Anon continued. “Whatever else changes about you, I hope you never lose—”

Starlight lifted her head and kissed him. For a moment he was tense, then his hand found her cheek. That flame was a wildfire now. Her worry, her guilt, her shame; they were wisps in that moment. There were his lips, his embrace, and her desire.

The kiss lingered. Starlight was afraid of what would happen when it ended. But it had to end. They separated, though neither hurried. She held her eyes trained to his chest until he directed her face upward. His expression was as unsure as she felt. She thought she should say something.

“Not bad for a first kiss?” she smiled, heart beating in her teeth.

Anon frowned. “Er, not technically our first…”

“Huh?” The reservoir flashed through her mind. “Oh, right.” She deflated, but Anon took her hoof.

“But it’s the best second kiss I’ve ever had,” he said.

Starlight rolled toward him and pressed her nose to his chest. She would do it just like that, then; she would admit what she did and feel better, whatever the consequences. And then when she was done, she’d come back and spend time with her coltfriend.

When Anon awoke, Starlight was atop him, muzzle in his neck. He ran his fingers down her back and she shivered, and her breath tickled his neck. It was a good night. He’d awoken a few times and found her in some new position against him. At some point she must have crawled atop him.

They were beneath the covers, comfortable but confined. He wanted to do something for her that morning, but he needed her off first. He wrapped her with his arms and rolled. He had to watch her hooves, splayed out around his chest and legs, but he managed. When she was on her side against the mattress, she grumbled at him, so he kissed her lips and stroked her mane. This seemed to placate her and she nestled her head into the pillow. Anon slipped from beneath the sheets, dressed, and left the room.

They’d spent the night before talking. Just talking. What a strange thing, to talk with someone and never lose a thread, and always have another topic. Who fell asleep first was unclear, but if their bodies willed it, they could have talked forever, or that’s how it felt to him. She told him about her college days; about her on-and-off love affair with heavy metal; how she imagined herself a guitarist or a lead singer, and her brief stint in a band; and about the campus café in which she had the same breakfast every morning: a wheat bagel with hazelnut spread and a latte. It was this last bit that concerned him that morning. He wanted to bring her breakfast in bed.

The café to which she referred was still open, and it was in the spot she described. Students and professors alike were inside, in line or at tables. Anon got in line, too. It moved like a machine, and he’d ordered and sat at a table near the counter before ten minutes had passed. He thought about Starlight’s face when she woke to her old breakfast, and about how good he felt that morning, and about the last time he’d felt that way about a relationship.

He looked down. He also felt awkward, embarrassed, exposed. Unlike himself. When his order was finished, he approached the barista. She was a cute mare, a Pegasus, purple with a golden mane. She blushed at him when she spoke. He looked at her rear. It was nice, better than most. They chatted a little as he held the bagel bag and the coffee. He told her he was free later and asked if she wanted to grab lunch with him. She agreed.

Anon left the café. He felt a bit better, a bit more natural, but also worse, dirty. He tried to rationalize his decision, like he had so many times before. The same consolation played in his mind, but it was hollow.

When he returned to the room, Starlight was still asleep. He placed her breakfast on the table near the window and sat on the bed beside her. She was beautiful, too beautiful for this world or any other. He leaned over her and kissed her ear. It flicked. His heart swelled. There was a rotting pit in the core of his stomach, and it wasn’t his spear wound.

Diner Style

Starlight sat in Medraut’s office, ears back, an awkward frown on her face. Medraut had his hooves folded on the desk, he used them to hide his muzzle.

“I see,” Medraut said. His expression was impassive, unreadable.

Starlight leaned forward. “But I know how to return them as well,” she said. “Once the storage medium is broken, a cutie mark returns to its owner.”

“And there’s no confusion, no mistaken exchange?” Medraut said. “Fascinating. I wish you had come to me sooner. This is truly an accomplishment for the ages.”

Starlight’s head dipped. She was afraid of this. Of course he wouldn’t be angry that she abused his research, he was a consummate academic. His pride, his ego, would outshine his moral compunctions. “Professor, I don’t think it’s much of an accomplishment.”

“Nonsense,” Medraut said,” do you know what this means for the state of cutie mark research?” He rose from his chair and walked to the wall left of Starlight. It was more a large bookshelf than a wall, really, and it was covered with rare tomes and the professor’s writing. “Ponies have been researching the origin and meaning of cutie marks for as long as we have records. They’re an indispensable part of our very being. Ah.” He pulled a book from the wall. Large, old, and, Starlight was horrified to see, leather bound.

Medraut returned to his desk, thumped the book down, and opened it. “The ancient Sumareans kept records of their citizens’ cutie marks for centuries. Theirs are the earliest, extensive records we have. Not until Roam would this kind of accounting again be seen.” He flipped through pages, his horn glowing a dull yellow, and stopped on a cuneiform scribbled section with crude images. Cutie marks. “But they had something else. Their records tell of the ability to transfer cutie marks between hosts. This way they were able to maintain social stability, to assure no key function was lost. In other words, cutie marks were not unique, nor were they sacred in the same way we think them today.”

Starlight peered at the page. The image seemed to depict a pony on their deathbed. There were some strange objects, they looked like braziers, but they did not contain flames. A group of ponies seemed to transfer the mark from the dying—or maybe already dead, Starlight couldn’t tell—pony, into the brazier. The final image showed a foal being pulled from the brazier, the cutie mark now emblazoned on it’s rear.

“The significance of this cannot be overstated,” Medraut said. “I’d thought, with most of my peers, for the longest time that cutie marks were special, that they said something unique about the pony who possessed them. But that may have been the wrong way to think about them.” He flipped the page again. There were more drawings. This time an alicorn. Her cutie mark was the sun.

Starlight tilted her head. “Celestia? But even she wasn’t alive that long ago.”

“And yet the sun still needed to be risen,” Medraut said. “And so it is for every other essential function in our society, and for those functions that, to us, seem inessential. The difference between the two, of course, depends on social form. It’s a relative distinction.” He looked up at Starlight. “I believe you have proven correct an old idea, that cutie marks are not what make ponies special. They are not tokens of individuality. They serve a distinct social purpose. They are evolutionary tokens, adapted for the survival of pony kind.”

Starlight grimaced. “But if that’s true, then every cutie mark that exists may have had multiple owners.”

“And how could it be otherwise?” Medraut said. “A unique identifier for every pony who has ever lived? It’s an absurd notion. How many permutations of a fruit cutie mark can you have?”

Starlight thought of the Apple family. A lot.

Medraut rounded his desk and placed a hoof on Starlight’s withers. “You have done me, no, all of Equestria a great service, Starlight. But this is only the beginning.” He trotted past her and placed the book back on the shelf. “For your findings to be taken seriously, they need to be reproducible.”

Starlight felt the bottom drop from her stomach. “Professor, no. We can’t. Ponies shouldn’t be stripped of their cutie marks. No pony deserves that.”

“Calm down, Starlight. It would only be temporary, an experiment. Nopony will be hurt, and, as you’ve said, the cutie marks will return to their rightful owners on their own.” He returned to his desk and sat. “The experiment will be undertaken in a controlled environment. The Institutional Review Board will be notified, and the subject’s full consent will be a prerequisite for any test.” He waved his hoof. “All standard procedure. I assure you, this will be perfectly safe and meet the highest forms of our ethical commitments.”

Starlight was unconvinced. The experiment may have been conducted ethically, but that said nothing about whether the experiment itself was ethical. She lowered her head. What could she do? Her protest meant little. Medraut knew now that his findings were correct, and he could proceed without her help if he wanted. But if he did, it would be without her improvements on his spell, a situation more dangerous for participants than any scenario involving her cooperation.

“Professor,” she said, “can I have your word on one thing?”

“What is it?”

“You will help me develop a counter spell.” She looked into his eyes.

He seemed surprised, but his face hardened into cool understanding. “A practical suggestion. Agreed.”

Anon lounged on a bench along Woodland Walk. He had a bag of cinnamon nuts—they were a mix of almonds and pecans—and popped a few into his mouth. His stomach grumbled and he stopped. He’d learned that meant enough food for a sitting.

He looked along the trail and stood when he saw her: Blueberry Banana trotted toward him, yellow mane bouncing, tail waving atop her perky pony plot. He waved at her and she stopped, a bit of crimson in her cheeks.

“Hi, Anon. I’m so glad you asked me out. I don’t usually get approached by stallions, it’s the other way around.”

Anon tisked. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“I brought bits,” she said. “I can buy you something to eat. What do you want?”

Anon shook his head. “I’m good, I had a few cinnamon nuts. Want some?” He held up the bag.

“Sure!” Blueberry took the bag with her wing and the started walking.

Anon eyed up her side as they went. She had a nice figure, curvy and a little plump, and with definition in the right areas, or area as it were. “So, you go to school here, huh?” He said as he watched her hips sway.

“Uh huh, this is my last year. I came to study meteorology. Most of my family are weather ponies, so I know a lot about it. But then I joined the drama club and fell in love with acting, so I switched to a theater major.”

“Neat,” Anon said. He didn’t really care.

“What do you do? Are you new to Fillydelphia?” Blueberry asked.

“Whatever comes,” Anon said. “Yeah, I just got in yesterday. Haven’t been here in a while. Do you want to go somewhere private?”

“I don’t know. I thought we were going to grab something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” Anon said. “Still recovering from a surgery, so I get hungry in flashes. It’s weird.”

“I hope it wasn’t serious.”

“Nah.”

They came to the Horsehead and Anon brought Blueberry inside. He took her to his and Starlight’s room and took a seat on the bed while she looked around.

“I’ve passed this place so many times, but I’ve never been inside before. It’s nicer than I expected.”

“It’s okay,” Anon said. “Come sit down.”

Blueberry got on the bed next to him. She looked nervous.

“I’m not used to such a bold stallion,” she said. “Usually stallions are timid. Many don’t talk much, and the ones that do tend to be shy. I was with a stallion once who I treated to a nice dinner. He told me he was ready to, you know, but when I brought him to my room, he danced around it for hours. He griped about everything until I got so bored, I walked him home.”

“Uh huh,” Anon said.

“And another Stallion I met at the pool hall. He was so confident when he played, but he was hogging the table. So, me and my friends bet him on a game. If we won, he’d give up the table. But If he won, he got his choice of us. We won, but we gave him the choice anyway. He was cute. He picked me but he didn’t know what to do after that. He was so timid. Finally, I told him to join me in the bathroom and when we were in there, he tried to eat me out. He did a terrible job. I tried to cum, but I couldn’t make it. So, I told him to forget about it and he got really angry. He called me a bitch, so I socked him.”

“Sounds pretty bad,” Anon said.

“It was,” Blueberry said. “And his friends didn’t like it, so they came after me, but my friends were there too. It was a real brawl. There was glass everywhere, tables got flipped over, we broke some furniture. I’m not sure how we made it out of there, but we did. I went back the next day and apologized to the owner, but he said it was alright.”

“Happen a lot, huh?” Anon said.

“You have no idea. Like this one time…” And she went on and on like that. Anon wondered how many hours oxygen supply his hotel room had. Whatever the number, she divided it by a quarter with each story. And the worst part wasn’t the talking itself. Anon was fine with talking. But this mare was vapid. It was a wonder she was still conscious, Anon was sure she’d have succumb to hypoxia by now. He tried to stroke her back while she spoke, but she seemed to think it encouragement and talked more. And the more time that ticked by, the more he grew to hate her company, until he’d had enough.

“Well, I’ve got to get some stuff done,” Anon said.

“Aw, but I was just starting to get comfortable,” Blueberry said. “Let me stay a little longer.

“No.” Anon noticed his rejection was too quick. “I mean, maybe later. I have an important appointment soon.”

Blueberry’s ears sank. “Well, alright. I had a lovely time though.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Ask me out again? You know where to find me.”

“Sure,” Anon said. Blueberry got off the bed and left the room without fanfare. Anon had no intention of talking to her again. She’d taken his nuts.

Starlight returned to the room mid-afternoon after discussing the experiment’s details with Medraut. She felt weary, though nothing she’d done was physically stressing. She found Anon on the bed, a magazine in hand. His attention snapped to her. He seemed happy to see her. She was happy to see him, too.

She splashed water on her face in the bathroom, then joined him. He opened his arms and she snuggled against him. They spoke little for an hour. Starlight expected him to bombard her with questions about the meeting, but he asked nothing past how it went. “Badly” was enough for him. He kissed her nose and she rested her head against his chest. She appreciated the brevity, but articulating why was difficult. She took comfort in his embrace instead.

After some time, they began chatting idly. She asked him what he did. He responded with “very little”. She looked up at his face. He was already looking at her, lips curled. She nuzzled them, then kissed. He kissed back and his hands traveled down her sides. He rested one on her butt and stroked it. It felt nice. Then he asked if she was hungry. She said yes and they left the hotel room in search of a restaurant.

They found the campus grill. It smelled of cigarettes and fried food. The interior was diner style, with booths and tables that looked older than her. Anon slid into a booth. She was going to sit across from him, but scooted in beside him instead. He placed his arm around her and kissed her horn. She felt a jolt.

The waitress came and they ordered. Anon decided on a falafel, she got hay cakes. When the waitress left, Starlight leaned into Anon.

“Do you know anypony in this city?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Anon said. “But I don’t know if they’re in the same place.”

“We can go find them tomorrow if you want.”

Anon shrugged. “You know I’m not really into this whole apology tour thing.” He scratched his chin. “I already got what I wanted out of it.”

Starlight giggled. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of it that easily. We told Twilight we were going to do some hard reconciling, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

Anon sat up. Starlight looked at him; he was peering around the room. When he’d scanned it, he lowered his face to hers and kissed her. His lips were open, warm and inviting, and she felt his tongue slip into her mouth. It was smaller and narrower than the last stallion she kissed. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and slipped it past those sharp teeth that used to frighten her when he smiled. He tasted sweet. Her body quivered and she felt heat spread through her body and beneath her tail.

“Ahem, your waters.”

They broke abruptly. The waitress placed their cups on the table, her face flat, judgmental. Embarrassment twanged through Starlight.

“Thanks.” Starlight lifted her glass with her horn and took an awkward sip. The waitress trotted off, tail giving a dismissive flick behind her.

“Uh, oops,” Anon said. “That’s what I was trying to avoid.”

Starlight placed her cup down and flattened her ears. “She’s gone now. It should be clear.” She placed her hoof on Anon’s leg and lifted her muzzle to him. He obliged. They kissed again, this time a more gentle, relaxed kiss. Somehow it sucked more oxygen from her lungs than a gallop. When they broke, Starlight felt dissatisfied. The kiss was filling enough, but she wanted more. She moved her hoof toward his crotch.

“S-Starlight, what are you…”

“Shh,” she said. Her hoof came to rest atop his bulge. It felt firm. He was already hard. Starlight bit her lip and rubbed it. “I’m impulsive, remember?” She said, then pushed her nose into his neck. He grew tight against her. She liked it. She liked that she was doing it to him. She glanced across the diner. Nopony seemed to be paying attention. She lit her horn and unzipped his pants.

Anon kept his arm around her and his grip was growing more firm. He lowerd his lips to the top of her head and brushed them against the tip of her horn again. She felt a surge and sparks showered his lap and the table.

She was almost to her prize. The boxers still between it and her were annoying. Why did humans wear two layers of clothes? It was overkill. She lowered her head and nudged at his fly. She felt his dick twitching beneath the cloth. She nuzzled it.

“Starlight, maybe we shouldn’t here,” Anon said.

Starlight remained quiet. She pulled at the button on his boxers until it snapped off, then spit it out. She moved the cloth aside with her muzzle and his penis flopped out. Finally! She brushed her lips against it. It smelled musky. The scent made her nethers burn. He was wiggling, helpless, against her, but she ignored him. She had what she wanted.

“The waitress!” Anon hissed.

Starlight lifted her head and dropped a napkin over his lap.

“Falafel,” the waitress said. She slid Anon’s plate across the table. “Haycakes.” She did the same for Starlight’s. “Can I get y’all anything else?” She was salty, Starlight could tell. Did she know what they were doing? She didn’t seem to, but maybe she suspected it. Starlight liked that.

“No, thank you.” Starlight said and smiled.

The waitress hmphed and trotted off. Starlight looked at her pancakes and stuck out her tongue. She was hungry for something else. She removed the napkin from Anon’s lap. He chuckled like a standup at a tough crowd. She opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his tip. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

She lowered her head slowly. Anon’s hand seemed to be searching for something along her back, an anchor maybe. She was unconcerned. She took him to the middle of his shaft, then slid back up. She lingered, her lips on his tip, and twirled her tongue. He moaned, then clasped a hand to his mouth. She grinned. A wicked grin, she felt, but she was unsure how sinister it looked with a penis in her mouth.

Starlight lowered her head again, tongue brushing along his shaft. She liked the taste, it was salty. She also liked how it twitched. She went all the way this time, until his dick bumped the back of her mouth. She wondered if that surprised him. She felt it pulsing, but she held it. She felt his heartbeat through it; it was a drum solo. She was so hot. She wanted more, though she couldn’t say of what.

Anon lowered his hand atop her head. He felt so tense. She wanted to ask him why in an ironic tone. She’d have to save that for later.

Starlight began sucking. Anon clinched his jaw and moved his hips. Her nostrils flared and she bobbed, she imagined it was like sucking a candy cane or a spoon with ice cream. The thought of him in her mouth made her body ache, she wanted to taste him, for him to coat her mouth with his sperm. She worked and worked, and she felt him tighten against her. His hand pressed atop her head.

“Stop,” he said.

She did. She looked up at him and drew her mouth from his shaft. Was the waitress coming again?

Anon sighed, he looked relieved, and then unsure. “It was a little painful…”

Starlight felt a different heat, deep embarrassment. She pulled her ears back and sat up. “Oh. S-sorry,” she said.

Anon stroked her back, then tucked himself into his pants. Starlight couldn’t look at him, she felt awful. They ate their meal in silence, then left the grill without tipping.

Words Unspoken

They traveled Woodland Walk in silence. The sun had set and a cool breeze rolled across campus. Starlight’s head was down, it had been for some time. Anon wanted to say something reassuring to her, but his mind was an error screen. Held fiddled with his pocket lining as he thought about what happened. He felt conflicted. On one hand, he’d liked Starlight’s enthusiasm, but the execution was lacking. On the other, he felt he should have been thinking in a different frame. It was a new dimension; instead of thinking about how sex was executed, he should’ve been thinking about what it meant. That foreign feeling rose inside him again, like he was displaced, someone else. He hated it. He wanted to get away from it, to hide. But then he looked at Starlight. She looked so sad. He would have risked anything to make her happy. That was a strange feeling, too.

He decided to swallow his pride. He stopped. “Starlight.”

She paused too and looked at him. Her eyes were sunken.

Anon walked to a nearby bench. It was wooden, painted green, though the paint was chipped at the edges. He brushed aside a few leaves and sat, then patted the seat next to him.

Starlight looked at the bench, then down Woodland Walk. She lifted a hoof, hesitated, then hopped up beside him. She avoided his eyes.

Anon was out of his element, he knew it. Dedicated, bridge-mending conversation with someone you… With your marefriend? What is this? He inhaled. “We should… Talk about what happened.” His words sounded stiff, even to himself. Why was talking so hard?

“I know,” Starlight said. “I’m… Sorry.”

Anon shook his head. “No, that’s wrong.”

Starlight sank a little further. Anon gave himself a mental slap. He’d meant to say something reassuring. How was he supposed to frame the discussion the right way?

“What I mean is, that’s not it. I don’t want an apology.”

“But I owe you one anyway,” Starlight said. “I embarrassed both of us.”

Her words were a mental slap in the other direction. Of course she’d feel that way, idiot. Now he had three directions. First, bad blow job; second, her motivations for it; third her embarrassment. Alright, the first could be pushed aside. It was his knee jerk reaction to think she was worried about her performance. That was old Anon speaking. The second was big. It made him uncomfortable to think about it, but at least he could procrastinate using number three. He needed to understand her feelings before he started spouting at the mouth.

“You didn’t embarrass me, Starlight,” Anon said. He wanted to add that she could never do that, but maybe that was too much. “And you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. Uh.” His brain hitched again. Damnit. What should she feel, then? Uh oh, she was looking at him. She’d expect more. “You didn’t do that bad a job, really!” Damnit again! No, that was old Anon talking.

Starlight looked down again. “But not a good job, either.”

Alright, he could work with this. “It’s not about that, Starlight.” He put his hand on her neck and stroked her mane. She was tense. “Don’t get ashamed on my behalf. You know how often I screw up. Not that you screwed up. You didn’t. You didn’t screw anything up.” He felt like he was cutting wagyu beef with a hacksaw; he was butchering this conversation.

Starlight met his eyes. He got lost in hers and calmed. “You’re really bad at this,” she said. Fuck, she knew. But maybe that was a good thing.

Anon sucked in a breath. “Yeah.”

They watched a small group of ponies pass. Anon knew the moment he’d dreaded was there. The awkward part. He had to find a subtle way to lead into that part of the conversation.

“Why’d you do it,” Anon said.

He felt Starlight flinch. He realized what he’d said a second too late. He wanted to hide in the passing group.

“I…” Starlight’s eyes returned to the dirt.

Anon felt like he’d tripped before the finish line in a hundred-meter dash. He looked where she looked.

“I mean I…” How to finish the sentence eluded him.

“I don’t know,” Starlight said.

“It just, uh. Well it seemed a bit out of the blue,” Anon said. “Not that I mind. But do you mind?”

Starlight seemed to be in thought. He was unsure if he should say something else. He continued to stroke her mane. She was still tense.

“Did it anger you?” Starlight asked?

“Huh?”

“I thought if I did something you’d like… But did it anger you?”

Anon stopped. “Not a bit.”

He gritted his teeth, then asked, “Did I anger you?”

Starlight looked surprised. “How would you have done that?”

“It’s not like people. Mh. It’s not like ponies are generally happy being told to stop something like that,” Anon said.

Starlight’s eyes were on him again. That was a good sign.

“No, I’m glad you told me to stop. I think I appreciate your honesty,” she said.

Honesty? Is that what it was? A chill breeze brushed the leaves around the bench. He scooted a bit closer to her.

“It’s not something I’ve ever done before,” Starlight said. “I mean, not really. There was this one time at a party with this stallion, but I was so drunk I don’t remember most of it. I’m out of practice.”

“I’ll say,” Anon said. He kicked himself. Why did words slip from his mouth before he could evaluate them? He hastened, “I mean, it’s… It’s not something you can just jump into. It’s like eating a mare out. If you don’t know what you’re doing, it can be uncomfortable.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Starlight said, eyes cast to the side.

Anon shook his head. “Sorry. What I’m too dumb to say is I’m glad you’re bad at it.”

Starlight remained quiet. Anon wanted to murder his tongue.

“What I mean is… Look, I’ve known plenty of girls who’re good at giving head. They’re all total skanks though. They’ve done it a lot. That’s not who you are. That’s why I, uh.” The end of that sentence was “that’s why I like you,” but he was unsure if that line would help or hurt his cause. There were other reasons he liked her. Would that be too restrictive? He chose a different line. “That’s why I’m not with them anymore.”

His own line surprised him. It felt true in an unexpected way. So what was he doing hitting on other mares? The more he thought about it, the less he understood himself.

He felt Starlight’s hoof on his leg. “That’s sort of sweet. I think.”

“I guess it kind of was, huh?” Anon said. But he felt worse for it. Exposed. He tried to push back the feeling. He took his hand from her mane and tucked it beneath her hoof, then held it. His vulnerability resurfaced as unease. “Uh, if a little corny.”

Starlight lifted her eyebrow. “Maybe a little?”

“What made you feel like you, you know. Like you had to do it though?” Anon asked.

Starlight’s ears flattened again. “I’m really not sure. It just felt right?”

Anon rubbed his thumb atop her hoof. “I didn’t pressure you into it, did I?”

“No, it’s just…” Starlight’s eyes darted.

“Because if I did, I didn’t mean to.” He felt too nervous. This should have been easy.

“No, really,” Starlight said. “You didn’t.”

“Then is it something else? Because you know you don’t have to…”

“Stop blaming yourself,” Starlight said. “I mean, maybe you did a little.”

He knew it. His heart sank. “What was it? I was getting too physical, right?”

“No, it’s...”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you in the diner, you probably felt like you didn’t have a choice.”

“No, wait.”

“I just got a little excited.”

“It wasn’t the kiss, no.”

“Was it the tongue? I probably went too far. I was—”

“STOP,” Starlight yelled. “It wasn’t what you did tonight.” She exhaled.

Anon remained quiet.

“I don’t want you to get bored with me,” Starlight said.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been with so many mares, and you’re so, you know, horny all the time. I guess I was worried if we didn’t move further soon, you’d… get bored with me.”

Oh. Shit. He really was an idiot. He sat dumbstruck, her words echoing in his head. He’d been so focused on his feelings entering into a relationship with her, so stuck up his own ass, he’d repeated his cardinal sin on a massive scale. He neglected to think that she might be just as nervous, just as out of her element, just as vulnerable. And there he was, the big dicked jackass, swaggering around with other mares. There he was, proving her fears right.

Anon scooped her into his arms. She squeaked.

“You don’t get it,” he said. But thinking about it, how could she? He only just got it himself. “You’re all I need.” His throat was burning, but men don’t cry. Shut up, eyes.

Starlight’s forelegs lifted around him. “Okay.”

They were locked in their hug for a while. Anon was unwilling to detach, in case his eyes ignored his command. He thought about an old song. Maybe it was a prayer. Yes, all his life he’d prayed for someone like her. But it was too hard to say something like that out loud. He hoped she would get the message somehow.

It was getting chilly. No, it was already chilly. He wondered if Starlight was chilly. She rubbed her nose into him. Maybe she was alright. These thoughts were convenient ways of delaying the last thing he knew he needed to say. He swallowed.

“We’ll move at our own pace, yeah?”

She nodded against his shoulder.

That unease bubbled inside him again. He imagined a Kalashnikov gunning at it. It subsided.

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Starlight said.

“Sure.”

They decoupled. Both paused to look into the other’s eyes. Starlight’s were watering, too. At least he could maintain some dignity, then. They left the bench together and walked back to their room. Anon realized at some point during the walk they’d just survived their first major hurdle. Maybe they could make this work.

They’d better. He was all-in now.

Purple Smart

Starlight awoke to a polite tap at their door. She had her nose tucked against Anon’s chest, his arm around her. The tapping repeated. She huffed and nuzzled into him. Whoever it was could stuff it. The tapping evolved into a firm knock.

“Starlight?” a familiar voice called. Starlight’s eyes snapped wide. She slid from beneath Anon’s arm, off the bed, and trotted to the door. She opened it a crack.

Twilight smiled at her from the hall. “We’re here!”

“You’re here…” Starlight said through a nervous laugh. “Uh, one second.” She shut the door and turned her horn on the bed. She removed a pillow from and tossed it on the floor, then levitated the two table cushions together, creating a makeshift bed.

“Starlight? Are you alright?” Twilight said beyond the door.

“Fine! Just, uh, straightening up.” She opened the small closet. On the top shelf was a folded, spare blanket. Perfect. She spread it atop the cushions and ruffled it. She nodded to herself, then turned toward the door. She inhaled, fixed her face into a smile, then opened it. “Twilight… and Spike! Hi!”

“Sorry for the short notice. I imagine my letter just arrived,” Twilight said as she entered. Spike fluttered in behind her, gripping a heavy looking sack.

“Letter?” Starlight said.

“Yes, I sent it express.” Twilight stopped and looked to Starlight, brow raised. “You have been getting my letters, haven’t you?”

“No, not one.”

“Told you,” Spike said.

“That explains why your responses have been tangential at best,” Twilight said. “I’m giving a lecture this afternoon at the Institute for Sociological Research on interspecies communication.” She looked at Anon, still asleep, then at the cushion bed. “You two couldn’t get a double? I hope he hasn’t let you sleep on the floor this whole time.”

“No! I mean, uh, we’ve… We’ve made do. It was cheaper this way.”

Twilight shook her head and pointed her horn at the nightstand clock. It erupted into obnoxious ringing. Anon shot up.

“It wasn’t me!” he yelled. He looked at Twilight, then Spike, then Starlight, then back to Twilight. “Oh.” He scowled. “Hi, Purple.”

Twilight’s horn lit and the alarm silenced. “Good morning, Anonymous. Starlight’s told me so much about your progress.”

“Huh?” He gave Starlight a questioning look. She lowered her ears.

Spike dropped his load and landed on the bed beside Anon. They bumped fists. “Hey, she hasn’t killed you yet. You have to be doing something right.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Anon said.

Starlight felt like gnawing her hooves. She looked at Twilight and wore her most practiced, concerned look. “You must be tired after your trip. I’m sure you want to rest up for your big presentation.”

Twilight shook her head. “Oh no, we slept on the train. I would like something to eat, however.”

“Yeah, I’m famished,” Spike said.

Anon stretched. “I’m up now. We might as well get breakfast. I think they serve it downstairs, and none of that continental crap.”

“That sounds perfect,” Twilight said.

Starlight perked. “Breakfast! Great idea. Let’s get breakfast. Can’t do a presentation on an empty stomach.”

Spike hopped off the bed. “Have you met Twilight? I’m pretty sure she shuts off all non-essential functions when she’s speaking.”

“I can’t expect the audience to dedicate their full attention if I can’t,” Twilight said. She walked toward the door, then stopped and looked toward Anon and Starlight. “Are you coming?”

“Uh…” Anon scratched his chin. “I’ll meet you down there. I need to put my pants on.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and opened the door. Spike followed. Starlight released a breath and gave Anon a soft smile.

“Starlight, are you coming?” Twilight said from beyond the doorframe. “You probably don’t want to be around for this.” She lifted her hoof toward Anon.

Starlight was startled. “What? Oh! Er, right.” She glanced toward Anon again. He looked confused. Then she followed Twilight and Spike.

Twilight scooped another forkful of syrup-drenched haycake and wagged it. “They’ve also discovered gunpowder stores around the town. There was a production facility, completely unzoned for, disguised as a warehouse.” She pushed the fork between her lips.

Starlight snapped her jaw shut and swallowed. “I didn’t see anything like that when we were there. Not that I had time to look.”

Twilight nodded. “Some of the residents have been cooperative, thankfully. But Celestia says most of them are engaged in passive resistance. They follow orders, but barely. It’s like they’re waiting for something.”

“More coffee, princess?” The innkeeper, a blue unicorn with a spring green mane, asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Twilight said before taking a bite of hashed browns.

The innkeeper poured, bowed, then resumed hovering by the entrance to the small, well-lit dining room. There was a buffet table stretched along the wall with large, covered, silver platters. The carpet was the same awful pattern as Starlight and Anon’s room, but it looked somewhat better in the light of the bay window overlooking campus.

Anon entered, palms in his pockets, face glued in grimace, at least until he looked at Starlight. He smiled at her; it made her feel like a school filly with a crush.

Spike waved his fork in the air. “Hey, you almost missed breakfast! What took you?”

Anon smirked. “We’re in the presence of a princess. I had to look my best.” He grabbed a plate and piled it with grits, potatoes, and muffins.

“Oh, please,” Twilight said, muzzle raised. “You walk through the castle in stained shirts and tattered pants all the time.”

“Nothing but the best for my favorite alicorn,” Anon said as he pulled up a chair beside Starlight. “Or if you don’t believe that, it’s for her.”

Starlight willed the heat from her face.

Twilight blew air through her lips. “Right. So, how have you two been getting along? Your letters make it sound like you’ve been more focused on other matters.”

Starlight waved her hoof and looked aside. “Oh, you know, we’re getting along. Nothing out of the ordinary. Occupied with friendship business.”

“Holy fuck, where did you get eggs?” Anon said, fork pointed at Spike’s plate.

“Sorry, I got the last ones. They didn’t have a lot,” Spike said and shoveled some into his mouth.

“Come on, let me get some of those.”

“Nope,” Spike said.

“Let me express my gratitude again, Starlight,” Twilight said as she cut another piece of haycake. “I could hardly imagine you two journeying this long without him driving you crazy. But then again, you are my prized pupil.”

Starlight found herself sitting a little taller. “I couldn’t let you down. And, to be honest, it’s been nice having him along.” She watched Anon and Spike fork duel from the corner of her eye. It reminded her of breakfasts in Twilight’s castle.

“Even so, when I sent you off, I had no idea how long you would last.” Twilight took another bite.

“Yeah, she waited outside for an hour after you left,” Spike said, then parried another attack on his eggs.

Twilight swallowed her food and frowned. “It wasn’t that long.”

Anon looked up, fork in full retreat. “Uh, you guys’ve got it all wrong. Starlight and I are actually—”

“Friends!” Starlight almost yelled her interjection. “Yep, we’re good friends now. Hahahah…”

Anon looked at her. She could see the disbelief in his knitted brows. She shrank into her seat.

“Uh, yeah,” Anon said, then looked at his plate. “We’re friends.”

His words stung for some reason.

“Really?” Twilight took another bite and chewed. Her expression grew thoughtful. “Maybe you two can be visual aids for my presentation!”

“What?” Starlight and Anon both exclaimed.

Twilight nodded. “It’s perfect. Two creatures who couldn’t be more different, now friends! Just the thing I need. I was going to use Sandbar and his friends, but this is much better. You’re actually here.”

“Eh, I dunno, Purple,” Anon said. “I’m not prepared for public speaking.”

Twilight waved her hoof. “Don’t worry. I’ll ask you some basic questions near the end, about your relationship and how you became friends, and then I’ll make my concluding remarks.”

“So only about another hour after that,” Spike muttered.

Starlight looked at Anon. He was pushing his grits around. “What do you say… partner?” She gave him a weak smile.

He nodded.

“Great!” Twilight said. She put down her fork. The innkeeper rushed to her, took her plate, and bowed. “Uh, thanks.” Twilight stood. “We’re expecting a full house. I’m going to get ready. Spike, join me in the auditorium when you’re done. We should go over the flash cards one more time.”

“Again?” Spike groaned.

“There’s no such thing as too prepared.” Twilight lifted her head and teleported.

Anon pushed away from the table, too.

Starlight looked at his plate. “You’re done? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Not hungry.”

“Can I have your muffins?” Spike asked.

“Go for it.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked out without looking at Starlight.

She watched Spike take the muffins. They looked a little deflated. She could sympathize.

About an hour later they were in a large auditorium. The stage faced hundreds of seats spread outward like a fan. There was a podium centerstage, and behind it a screen. Starlight and Twilight were at the projector, wedged between rows. Anon and Spike were sitting at the edge of the stage, dangling their legs and chatting about Power Ponies comics.

Starlight watched Twilight arrange and rearrange her slide order, and gave occasional assent when the latter suggested a slide be removed. There were at least fifty already, so it was almost always a good idea to remove another. But in truth, Starlight’s attention was on Anon. She’d had trouble reading him since breakfast. He’d seemed guarded on their way to the auditorium, although Spike had a way of opening him up.

“Starlight?” Twilight said. Starlight snapped from her daze and looked to the slide her mentor held, a graph showing the growth of gryphon-pony trade ties. How was that even related to the presentation?

“Uh, toss it,” Starlight said.

“Really?” Twilight looked at it. “But it’s part of my second topic point, on how material exchange promotes diplomatic and cultural ties.”

“Toss it,” Starlight repeated. She glanced toward the stage.

Twilight frowned. “You seem distracted. Is everything alright?”

“Uh huh,” Starlight auto responded.

Twilight looked at the stage, too. “It’s great that you two are getting along, but you know my offer still stands.”

“Your offer?”

“Yes. If you want, we can take him home after this.”

“Oh. No,” Starlight said. She bit her lip.

“Alright…” Twilight shuffled through a few more slides. “Between you and me, I can only stand so much of his company myself.” She stacked them and turned on the projector. “He’s kind of a nuisance,” she said, voice low.

Anger flashed through Starlight, but she keep it from her face. “What do you mean?”

Twilight flipped between slides, her eyes on the screen. “Well, you know. He’s coarse, combative, and a little obnoxious. I just don’t have the patience for it most days.”

“Well maybe he wouldn’t seem that way if you bothered to get to know him,” Starlight snapped. Her ears dropped when she realized.

Twilight looked surprised, then apologetic. “You’re right, I shouldn’t think that way, especially about a friend.”

“No, I… I’m sorry, Twilight. I guess I got a little defensive.”

Twilight raised her hoof. “It’s completely understandable. I’m glad you stuck up for him, it shows that you two are becoming good friends.”

“Yeah. Good friends…” Starlight looked toward the stage. Anon and Spike were waving their arms about, mimicking action scenes. She thought about telling Twilight, but shame was an impassable wall blockading the words. She continued helping with the presentation in silence.

Ponies streamed into the auditorium. Starlight and Anon sat near the projector while Spike flipped through slides. The little dragon looked bored. He and Twilight had rehearsed for hours. Starlight imagined he was as capable of giving the lecture as Twilight at this point.

Anon looked bored too, cheek against his palm. He’d spoken little to her. It made her uncomfortable. She wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but she knew the answer. Fixing it was a different matter; she felt wedged between two intractable anxieties.

“Here we go,” Anon said. Starlight looked toward the stage. She admired Twilight’s calm. An auditorium full of judgmental academics, but she looked comfortable. But thinking about it, this was Twilight’s natural habitat.

The lights dimmed. First the president of the university introduced the chair of the sociology department, then the chair introduced the director of graduate admissions, then the director introduced the Girus S. Griffin professor of intercultural communication, then the professor of intercultural communication introduced the graduate student who invited Twilight, then the graduate student introduced Twilight. She stepped forward to wild applause. She was already Equestria’s most popular princess, but academy was her kingdom.

Twilight spoke clearly; Twilight spoke well. Twilight spoke forever. Starlight checked out for a while. There were too many graphs and charts, too much information for a single lecture. At least the rest of the audience seemed enraptured—all except Anon, whose head dropped now and then, and Spike, who switched slides by muscle memory.

Starlight daydreamed about kites. She snapped from her fantasies when Twilight said her name.

“… and they’re here in the audience today. Please join me, Anonymous and Starlight.”

That was the cue. Starlight looked to Anon. His head drooped and his eyes were shut. Starlight poked him.

His head shot up. “Huh? Wha? I’m awake.”

“We’re on,” Starlight said. She left her seat, squeezed through the aisles, and trotted onto stage. Anon was close behind.

Anon yawned.

“So, you two didn’t get along, but now you’re great friends. Did communication have a big part in the development of your relationship?”

“Yes,” Starlight said. “Talking things out is generally how we solve problems.”

“I guess,” Anon said.

“And what about your differences? They still exist, don’t they?”

Starlight nodded. “Sure, but they’re nothing we can’t deal with if we’re honest.”

Anon shrugged.

“Ah, so you’d say honesty is important in any relationship, regardless the participants?”

“That goes without saying,” Starlight said. “Honesty is everything.”

“Pfft,” Anon said and looked to the side.

Twilight looked at Anon. “You don’t agree?”

“Just weird to hear Starlight talking about honesty,” Anon said.

Starlight turned toward him. “What does that mean?”

His eyes were trained away from her. “Nothing.”

“Er, right,” Twilight said. “Moving on, have either of you had trouble reconciling existing loyalties, either to members of your own species or to other friends.”

Starlight hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I mean, sometimes, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

Anon grumbled.

“Is that a yes, Anon?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t know, princess. Why don’t you ask your student again?”

Starlight bristled. “Excuse me?”

A murmur rose in the audience. Twilight looked toward them, then to Anon and Starlight. “Uh, haha. Just a bit of friendly banter. What friends don’t engage in that from time to time? But it’s always good natured, never for the purpose of shaming each other.”

“Don’t need bad banter for that,” Anon said.

Starlight stomped. “What’s your problem? Why are you sniping at me?”

Twilight stepped between them. “Okay, maybe we should step back before we start embarrassing each other.”

“Too late for that,” Anon said and sniffed.

“So, I’m embarrassing you now?” Starlight growled.

“Please. Me?” Anon pushed Twilight aside. “You really think I’m worried about being embarrassed?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Starlight said. When Twilight tried to come between them again, she levitated her aside.

The audience chattered, but Starlight ignored them.

“If that’s it, come right out and say it,” Starlight said, voice rising.

“I will!” Anon yelled. “It’s you who’s embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed by what?” Starlight yelled back. “By how you’re behaving right now? Yeah, maybe!”

“You’re embarrassed by much more than that,” Anon shouted. “YOU’RE EMBARASSED BY ME!”

Starlight reeled back. “W-what?”

“You’re embarrassed by me. Embarrassed by how I look, how I act, how I talk. That’s why when Twilight came you…” He paused, then his shoulders slumped. The anger in his face softened and he turned his head. “Never mind.”

Starlight’s breathing felt weighted and her chest ached. She looked to Twilight, who was having a conniption, then to the crowd. She stood straight. “You’re wrong.”

Anon turned a little toward her, then she grabbed him with her magic and pulled him toward her, and, before he could protest, before he could open his mouth, kissed him.

The audience gasped. Starlight closed her eyes and held him for uncountable seconds, not that he resisted. Her heart was throwing a tantrum, her forelegs trembled. Then she released him. They parted. Their eyes met. Anon was crouched, but if he noticed, he was unconcerned.

Twilight’s mouth was wide.

Spike flew over them, landed, then pushed it closed. “Say something,” he whispered.

Starlight flattened her ears and rubbed her foreleg. “Uh, that’s it. Lecture’s over. Go home!”

Nopony moved.

“Yes,” Twilight stepped forward. “The lecture is… over. Thanks for coming.”

The lights rose, shifting seats and energetic conversation with them. Some ponies filtered out, others remained, stunned, and others formed a queue in front of the stage for questions. Starlight could guess the most popular topic.

She looked at Anon. He was frozen. Spike poked idly at his cheek.

Starlight and Anon sat together in their room. They’d snuck away while Twilight answered probing questions about their relationship. Starlight felt bad—Twilight knew about as much about it as the audience—but she thought she’d done enough. No point working an agitated hive into a frenzy.

Anon’s fingers traveled her back, but his eyes were on the door. He’d joked this was another mess they’d left Twilight to clean, but he looked nervous.

The sun had sat by the time Twilight and Spike arrived. Starlight let them in, then returned to Anon’s side at the bed’s edge.

Twilight looked exhausted. “That is why I prefer ponies ask from their seats,” she said. “It’ easier to set limits to question time then.” She sat on her haunches and looked between them. “So…”

“So,” Starlight repeated. “Surprise!”

“I’ll say. When were you going to tell me about… this?” Twilight lifted her hoof toward them.

Anon and Starlight shared a look.

Starlight lowered her head. “I’m sorry. It’s just, you showed up unannounced and, honestly, it’s new to me too. I thought I had more time. Time to get used to it.”

“You picked a heck of a way to tell me,” Twilight said.

“Worked for me,” Anon said.

Twilight frowned. “Have you told anypony else yet?”

“You’d be the first,” Starlight said. “Well, you and an audience full of sexually frustrated college students.”

Twilight clasped her hooves around Spike’s head. “Starlight!”

“Oh, whups.” Starlight gave a sheepish grin.

Spike peeled away Twilight’s hooves. “Aw, come on, Twi. I’ve studied your anatomy textbooks too, you know.”

Twilight blushed and looked to the side.

“So,” Starlight said, wishing her heartrate would drop below triple digits, “what’s the verdict?”

Twilight’s face became serious. “Well, I don’t approve of the way you revealed it. I would rather you have done so in a less sensitive environment.”

Starlight wilted. “Yeah, sorry again about that.”

“And I’m not sure if you’ve thought through the ramifications of your relationship. There are a lot of ponies who will be interested, first and foremost our friends.”

That needled Starlight. Her thoughts flashed to Trixie, to her father… to Sunburst. She pushed into Anon’s side.

“But…” Twilight said. She smiled. “How they feel about it is up to them, not you.” She approached and placed a hoof on Starlight’s withers. “Personally, I’m happy for you. For both of you. Neither of you could have picked a better mate to drive you insane.”

“Jesus,” Anon said. “You’re even worse than I am.”

Starlight trembled, then lunged forward and wrapped Twilight in a hug. “Thanks…” she whispered. Twilight returned the hug.

When they separated, Twilight wiped a tear from under her eye. “Your secret’s safe with me for now, but I expect you to tell everypony eventually.”

Starlight nodded and placed a hoof on Anon’s lap. “Definitely.”

He scratched behind his head and looked toward the ceiling. “Yeah.”

“Well, we’ve got a train to catch. Sorry we can’t stay and get dinner with you guys,” Twilight said.

“Aww. But train food is awful,” Spike said.

Twilight lifted him onto her back and levitated her bag. “We’ll grab something on the way.” She looked between Starlight and Anon and smiled. “I look forward to your next letter.”

She walked to the door, then paused. She looked back. “And good luck.”

When the door shut, Anon collapsed backward. “Finally, she’s gone. Purple’s great, but she stresses the hell out of me.”

Starlight climbed atop him and rested her nose in his neck. Luck was alright, but they could do without it. They had each other. That was enough.

Together (Warning: Is shameless fluff)

Anon watched Starlight scribble on parchment at the table in a strip of sunlight filtering through the inn curtains. Her eyes flitted between two books and she occasionally sipped coffee.

He’d walked around campus, gotten lunch, visited a museum, a theater, marched with underpaid grad students, and listened to a few sets in a bar, and when he returned, she was in the same spot he’d left her. He dropped his magazine, got out of bed and sat behind her.

Starlight was undisturbed. She continued etching symbols and Latin phrases on her parchment. Her mane smelled of lilac and shined like silk.

Anon paused. He wanted her to relax, to take a break, and—though he knew it was selfish—to spend time with him. He tapped his fingers against his leg, then started. The muses had struck him with a sinister idea.

Anon leaned closer to Starlight and kissed her neck. Her ear twitched. He grinned. He wrapped his arms around her and placed another kiss on her poll. Her body stiffened, but her quill continued. Anon pressed his lips to her crest. She shivered. He kissed down her neck. Her tail hit him. He kissed her back. Her quill paused.

Success. Anon rested his lips against her mane. Starlight turned her head, mouth curled, eyes lidded.

“Anon,” she said.

“Hm?”

“Can you stop? I’m trying to concentrate.”

Failure. Damn you, muses. “Uh, yeah,” he said. He decoupled himself from her, stood, then plopped back onto the bed. He schemed.

Starlight’s quill resumed its steady march.

Anon’s stomach lurched. He was still having trouble with food. Who knew being skewered could be so detrimental to the digestive tract? Then another idea hit him. He sat up and looked out the window. He just had to do some shopping.

“I’ll be right back,” Anon said. Starlight gave him an absent nod.

Anon’s idea required he search several different locations. He was gone for about an hour. One of the items was scarce to the point of frustration in University City. When he returned, carrying two large, paper bags, Starlight was still at the table. Legendary dedication. He placed the bags on the bed and withdrew several wrapped parcels.

“Hey, Starlight, you hungry?”

She hummed, but continued writing.

Anon sat beside her with one of the parcels and unwrapped it. It contained cubed mangoes. He plucked one and popped it into his mouth.

Starlight’s eyes remained on her work.

He plucked another and looked at her. He held it out in his palm. “Want one?”

Starlight sniffed. Her concentration was unwavering, but the cube became alight and floated to her lips. She ate it.

Anon placed the mangoes on the table, then grabbed the other parcels from the bed. He unwrapped them in succession: apple slices, pineapples, cherries, and chocolate covered strawberries. The room became fragrant, like a fruit stall. He popped an apple into his mouth. It was crisp and refreshing. Then he held one out to Starlight. She glanced to it, then turned to it and ate it from between his fingers.

Anon chuckled. He picked up a cherry and munched it. Ow, a pit. He chewed around it. A cup floated in front of his face. He looked at Starlight; she flipped a page. He took the cup and spit the pit into it. He took another cherry between his teeth by the stem and grinned at Starlight.

Starlight turned toward him. She smiled and rolled her eyes, then kissed him and plucked the cherry from his teeth. She chewed it, then showed him the pit between her front teeth. She dropped it in the cup. Then her eyes were on her work.

Anon picked up a chocolate covered strawberry. He bit it to the leaf. It burst juice in his mouth. It was sweet, creamy, and tart, a perfect flavor combination. He dropped the leaf in the cup, too, then held up another one. He looked at Starlight.

She looked at the strawberry. Her eyes met his. Her quill stopped and fell against the page. She turned toward him and stood, then placed a hoof on his chest and pushed. Anon fell backward. Starlight was standing over him now, smirking.

Anon placed the strawberry against her lips. She brushed them across the chocolate coating, then bit into it. Some juice squirted onto his cheek. Starlight giggled.

Starlight lowered atop him and floated the strawberry parcel from the table. She stared down at him. Her eyes were polished sapphires. She pressed a strawberry to his lips. Anon took the front half between his teeth, then she grabbed the back half. He bit off his portion and Starlight ate the rest, leaf and all. She chuckled at his surprised face.

She put another one in her mouth and chewed as she looked at him. Her tail swished across his legs. After she swallowed, she lowered her face to his and licked the juice from his cheek.

Anon pressed his lips to her. Her mouth were soft, sweet. Then she pulled away from him. She stood, swished her tail, and returned to her seat. She resumed her studies.

Anon remained down for a while, recovering. When he sat up, he huffed. He watched Starlight write and slouched. He’d been close to pulling her away, but now he was stuck at half-mast. He had one ploy remaining. He took the second bag from the bed and withdrew a wine bottle. It’d taken him a while to find; U of F was a dry campus. Awful. He removed the box that had been beneath the wine bottle. It contained two glasses.

He set the glasses on the table and poured wine into one. “Want any? It’s, uh, vintage.”

Starlight nodded.

Great, now he was getting somewhere. He filled the second glass and pushed it toward her. He lifted his glass and grinned “Cheers?”

Starlight’s glass lifted and tapped against his, then she placed it on the table without drinking.

Anon watched her over his glass and sipped. Damn. He swirled his wine because it seemed fancy. He took another sip. It tasted a little nutty. “Pretty good.” He set down his glass. “Busy day, huh?”

Starlight nodded. Her glass lifted to her lips. Anon leaned in. She took a tiny sip. He sank.

Anon looked into his wine glass. Could have used more sugar. Did sugar go in wine? He grumbled and gave his leg an impatient tap. He took another look at Starlight. Looked like the day was a wash. He downed his glass and groaned. “Going to get some air,” he grumbled, then stood fast. Too fast. His leg bumped the table and Starlight’s glass teetered, then tipped. He watched, horrified, as it spilled across her parchment.

Starlight’s eyes were wide. “No, no, no, no!”

“Oh, shit,” Anon said. “I didn’t mean to!” He picked up her glass and looked around. “Uh, I’ll get a towel.” He hurried into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, then heard a flash. When he returned, Starlight was gone, her parchment and books gone with her.

Anon kneeled in front of the table and wiped away the spilled wine. He looked at the stained towel. “Damn…”

Anon walked the campus for an hour. The sun was setting. He found a bench across from the library and sat. He’d waited for Starlight to return for a while, but the solitude agitated him. He wondered how angry she was. Guessing made him uncomfortable.

At least she’d have to return to the room, or so Anon assumed. He rubbed the top of his head, then dragged his hand to his neck. He lifted his head. He squinted through the library window, then jumped to his feet. Starlight was sitting at a table. What was she doing in the library? Whatever. Anon fast walked into the library. The central corridor was tall and long and started at a circular desk, at the center of which was a large, black column with a number of closed slots.

The cream-colored mare behind the desk looked over her glasses. “May I help you?”

“No,” he said and rushed by her, but found his feet missed the ground. He was levitated to the desk.

“Students and alumni only,” the mare said. “I assume you are neither.”

“Oh, I’ve got my id card right here…” he pretended to look in his pockets, then mimicked a shocked expression. “What is she doing to that book!”

The mare turned her head and Anon ran past.

“Hey!” she yelled after him. He was about to round a corner, but her aura trapped him and dragged him to the entrance.

Anon folded his arms as he was tossed out the door, on his ass. “Bitch…” He stood and brushed his pants, then walked around the building’s edge, past a few more, large windows, and came to a closed steel door tucked behind a bush. He jiggled the handle. Locked. He pressed his ear to it. There were voices beyond; they sounded like stallions. He pressed his back to the building as the door swung open. Two large earth ponies walked out, both in white hats and shirts, one pulling a trash can. Anon grabbed the handle before the door shut and slipped inside.

He was in a dark storeroom. There were rows of metal shelves with paint, cleaning supplies, rags, etc. Anon crept through the rows toward a lit doorway. He touched the wooden pane and pushed it. He stuck his head out, then snatched it back in. He was behind the front desk. He peeked. The librarian was sifting forms. She looked up on occasion to greet an entering student or push a book into one of the chutes.

Anon could sneak past her. She wasn’t even on his side of the desk. He pushed the door and prepared to dash, but the steel door opened behind him. He flinched and turned his head. The stallions entered, laughing, then froze. They stared at him. He stared at them.

“What in Tartarus are you doing here?” One asked.

Anon shot from the storage room, down the central corridor.

“Hey! Wait!” the stallion said.

Anon ran into a room labeled “classics,” a forest of book cases separated by the occasional card catalogue, and ducked between shelves. He heard hoofbeats pass and sighed. After a couple of minutes, he risked a peek. The room was empty. He traveled the stacks, to the next room. It was x-shaped, beneath a large, decorative chandelier and a balcony. Anon rotated. The first path led to books, the second to books, the third to books and a heliotrope unicorn. Anon rubbed his chin for a moment, then stopped for a double-take. That heliotrope unicorn was Starlight. She passed the corridor, her nose in a book.

“Starlight!” He called. He ran toward her, grin wide, heart beating a jubilant tune. He rounded a shelf, and smacked into a hardcover.

As Anon regained his senses, he felt his back dragging across the marble floor. He looked up and blinked away haze. He was being dragged by those stallions, and they in turn were led by the librarian. They took him to the entrance, then threw him out on his face. He grumbled as they reentered the building.

“What are you doing?” Starlight said.

Anon lifted his head. She stood above him, head tilted. He sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, looking for you.”

“In the dirt?”

“Well, you never know,” Anon said. “You might have shrunk.”

Starlight sat beside him. There was a fresh parchment floating beside her. She lowered it into her hooves.

“Sorry messed up your notes,” Anon said.

Starlight looked at him, then to the parchment. “It’s alright. Sorry I left without saying anything. I wanted to get here before I forgot what I’d written.”

“What is it, anyway?”

Starlight smiled. “I’ll show you.” Her horn lit—a bright, building glow. Anon had trouble keeping his eyes open. And then it flashed. He saw spots.

When the spots left, Anon blinked. Then he blinked again time and looked around. “Woah.”

They were atop an open tholos above the clouds. The sun kissed the western horizon and the moon crested in the east. There was a slight breeze. The floor and columns shined like black onyx. In the room’s center was a small table topped by candle and two sets of tableware.

“Do you like it?” Starlight said. She was in a red dress that hugged her figure.

“Beautiful…” he said.

“Thanks, I worked really hard on it,” Starlight said, looking toward the sunset. “I just wanted to take you somewhere special.”

Anon admired the view with her.

“And that’s not all!” Starlight’s horn lit. The wind slowed. It gasped, then whispered, then whistled. It carried a song, a light serenade, pleasing and slow.

Anon listened in silence, then he crouched and extended his hand to Starlight.

She lifted a hesitant hoof and lowered it in his palm. He took the other hoof, too, and lifted her so she stood on her hindlegs.

“W-what are you doing?”

Anon grinned. “When’s the last time you danced?”

“Never like this.”

“Then I’ll show you.”

And so, they danced. First it was slow, clumsy. But as they went, they grew comfortable with their footing, with the floor, with each other. It was a good dance.

Dat Ass Tho

Once upon a time in the mystical land of waifus.
I was getting so much tail.
Like seriously, if it moved, I probably fucked it.
But one day, all my girlfriends found out about eachother.
So they collectively beat my ass and cast me out.
I wandered, lost, for countless, uh.
It had to be a few days at least.
Until I discovered an unknown town somewhere far away.
And that’s where I discovered The Ass.
It belonged to this crazy chick.
Like seriously, she was on some 1950s conformity trip.
She even nailed the Stepford Wives smiles.
But I don’t have a cutie mark anyway, so I joined their cult or whatever.
But before I could get my hands on the goods, my friends showed up.
So I got out of there.
I thought I’d never see that ass again.
Until I heard that she was in Ponyville with my... friends.
So I went back.
At first I thought they were going to toss me in a gulag or something.
Instead they gave me friendship lessons.
Much worse, basically.
Now I’m a recovering villain, I guess?
But I’m not alone.
The Ass is here, and she’s recovering too.

Anon sat on a park bench and stared at the clock tower. He bit his lips and watched its hands.

“C’mon… Three, two, one…”

The bell rang three times and his eyes darted down the path. Starlight Glimmer, ever punctual, was walking toward him, nose in a book, flanks swaying.

Anon bit his lip and balled his fists. Starlight walked by, and he watched her rear. It jiggled, but not much, and always returned to a delicate, curvy, perky round. It was the platonic idea of an ass. He reached for it, stretched, and cupped it with his fingertips.

“Huh?” Starlight exclaimed, then her face twisted in fury. “Anon!” Her horn ignited and a magic mallet crashed down on his head, breaking the bench beneath him, leaving him face down in the dirt.

Anon groaned, twitched, then turned his head toward her and smiled a broken smile. “Worth… It.”

Starlight huffed and walked away.

Anon remained on the ground for the next hour or so until Spike found him. The little dude sighed and shook him a few times.

“Again?” Spike asked.

Anon moaned and raised his arm, hand curled in a thumbs up.

“Ugh,” Spike said, “come on. Twilight wants to see you. You’re late for your friendship report.” Spike flipped Anon onto his back and helped him up. Together they went—well, Anon limped—to Twilight’s castle.

When they arrived, Twilight was sitting at the head of the map. Starlight was to her side, finishing her friendship progress report. Twilight nodded and beamed as Starlight regaled her on the lesson Trixie learned about stealing versus borrowing on national free balloon day. Both mares looked up when Anon and Spike entered. Twilight perked up, Starlight scowled.

“Oh, Anon! We were getting worried about you. I’m glad you could join us,” Twilight said. “Good job, Spike.”

Spike saluted and sat across from Starlight. Anon slumped, pained, beside him, which brought a smile to Starlight’s lips. Her soft, beckoning lips.

“And what have you learned this week about friendship, Anon?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t know,” Anon said as he propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin against his hand.

“Come on, Anon. You had to learn something this week,” Spike said.

“I don’t know, okay. Jeez, stop riding me about it.”

Twilight frowned. “I’m worried about your progress, Anon. I’m worried that, well, you haven’t made any.”

Anon grumbled and looked away.

“Actually, Twilight, I had an idea,” Starlight said. “I was thinking about how I reconciled with the ponies in Our Town, and I remembered how many other ponies, from both before I took over and after I left, I’ve wronged. I want to travel a bit and, you know, make amends with those ponies as well.”

Twilight clapped her hooves together. “That’s an excellent idea, Starlight! A friendship rehabilitation quest.”

“I was thinking more of an apology tour, but same thing really, I guess,” Starlight said.

Anon looked up and slammed his hands on the table, startling everyone in the room.

“I want to go on an apology tour too,” he said.

“You do?” Twilight, Starlight, and Spike asked in unison.

“Yeah. I’ve hurt mares… and a few stallions… all over Equestria since I got here. This is my chance to make up for it.”

Twilight gasped. “You two can go together. It will be a friendship field trip!”

“W-what,” Starlight said. “You can’t be serious.”

“Yes! It’s a fantastic idea, Starlight” Twilight said.

“No, no, no. I-I mean we’re probably going to totally different places. I mean I’ll have to go to Canterlot…”

“Same,” Anon said.

“And Fillydelphia…”

“Same.”

“And Los Pegasus…”

“Yep.”

“And Manehattan!”

“Me too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Starlight said.

“It’s settled, then” Twilight said. “You two will travel together on a whirlwind apology tour. This is so exciting!”

“But I…” Starlight looked around. “But he…”

“Looks like you and I are going to be field trip partners,” Anon said and wiggled his eyebrows at Starlight.

Starlight slammed her head against the table. “Ugh.”

“I’ll draw up your itinerary tonight,” Twilight said. “This will be so much fun. I just know you two will learn a lot together.”

Starlight looked up and cast an empty defeated gaze at nowhere. “Fine…”

Twilight hopped out of her seat, humming Winter Wrap-up, and left the room for her chamber, musing to herself about the most efficient paths and methods of travel. Starlight left too, her head low and dragging her hooves. Anon remained at the table with Spike, beaming and thinking of all the possibilities, and opportunities, their journey would permit. Spike looked at him, his features scrunched and skeptical.

“Alright, spill it. Why are you really doing this?” Spike asked.

“What do you mean?” Anon asked, rocking in his seat.

“Come on, you’ve never been interested in friendship lessons before. Why now?”

“Why Spike, are you accusing me of having ulterior motives?” Anon watched Starlight’s perfect rump disappear across the door frame as he spoke, her tail draped above her mare parts, both concealing and revealing in all the right ways.

“Yep,” Spike replied.

“This is just a friendly field trip with a friend. Completely above the board and totally, uh, friendly.”

“Maybe a bit too friendly for Starlight’s tastes. I don’t think this is going to turn out like you want it to.”

“Nonsense!” Anon said. “This is going to be a great opportunity to learn about friendship and to grow. Lots and lots of friendship. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get packing. This is going to be a long trip and I don’t want to go without enough clean underwear. Or condoms.”

“Huh?”

“Measure twice, cut once. Gotta go,” Anon said, then hopped out of his seat and strolled out of the room, whistling.

Spike sat, mouth open.

“What does that even mean?”

Starlight approached Twilight’s door a few hours later. She knocked and the locusts in her stomach became frenzied.

“Uh, Twilight, can we talk for a second?”

“Sure, Starlight. Come in.”

Starlight opened the door. Twilight was sitting at her desk, maps and a few travel guides strewn before her. She scribbled at a parchment, then crossed out her scribbles, muttering about how little time the route would save. Then she scribbled again. Starlight sat in front of her, ears back.

“Twilight, about this trip,” Starlight said.

“I know, isn’t it exciting? Finally, a chance to get through to Anon, and what better a way to do that than by letting him discover the power of friendship for himself?”

“Yeah, about that. Are you sure it’s a good idea for Anon to come with me? You know he’s only using this as an opportunity to, um.” Starlight rubbed her foreleg.

“To have sex with you? Oh, I know that.”

Starlight jolted forward. “What? You know? And you’re letting him do it anyway?”

Twilight looked up and set her quill on the desk. “Look, Starlight, I know it’s not an ideal situation, but this might be my only chance to teach him something.”

“By putting me on the breeding rack? Gee, thanks, Twilight.”

Twilight frowned. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Anon makes advances toward you all the time, and you’ve been able to handle yourself so far. I know he’s a creep. Believe me, I know. But that’s why it’s so important he learn better. And who better to teach him than my star pupil?”

“I don’t know…”

Twilight rose from her desk and walked around to Starlight’s side. “Look, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But I don’t know any other way to motivate him. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, it was a lot when Princess Celestia first asked me to oversee his reform, but I also know that you can succeed where I failed.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do. And I’ll even plan in a return route mid-way through your journey, so if you ever need an escape, you can cut it short and come back home. I’ll figure out what to do with him from there.”

Starlight sighed, then she smiled and looked at Twilight. “You know you owe me for this, right?”

“Oh yeah, big time.”

Twilight pulled her into a hug, and for the first time since that evening, the insects in Starlight’s stomach were still.

Starlight didn’t see much of Anon for the next few days. She spent much of her time pouring over their route with Twilight and telling her friends about her coming absence. Trixie was the hardest to convince of the plan’s soundness, of course. Starlight had been complaining to the showpony for months about Anon’s behavior, so it was an obvious surprise to Trixie that the two would now travel Equestria together. Starlight asked if Trixie wanted to come with them, but the latter was already mid-tour and going in the opposite direction of their planned route. Instead, they agreed to meet in Hoofsdale since they’d be there around the same time.

Applejack was the next most resistant to the idea, Starlight was surprised to learn. Applejack and Anon had enjoyed a “roll in the hay”, she called it, once when she was drunk on cider. Since then Anon had made repeated passes at her, each ending the same way, a buck to his gut. Applejack complained Anon couldn’t be trusted, that he was a two-timing, yellow-bellied stud with the sexual appetite of a bull in season. That was all true, of course, but the way Applejack blushed when she talked about it made Starlight wonder if there was another reason the cowpony was so opposed.

In fact, most of Starlight’s friends acted strange when she brought up her trip. Fluttershy hid her face, Rainbowdash threw her a snarky “good luck” and flew away, and Pinkiepie recounted long and rather detailed encounters with the human, many of them involving balloon animals. Starlight hadn’t heard from Rarity, but that’s because the fashionista was in Canterlot on one of her extended business trips.

So when the morning of their departure came, Starlight felt she was briefed on what to expect.

Starlight walked outside the castle, saddlebags secured, and watched the rising sun.

Twilight came out soon after.

“Ready for your trip?” Twilight asked, smiling.

Starlight smiled too, though it was more muted than her mentor’s. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good! Here’s your itinerary and map,” Twilight said and levitated two rolled-up parchments to her. “I marked rest stops and a few attractions, in case you want to stop for a while.”

“Thanks, but I think we’ll keep to the main locations.”

Anon exited the castle next. He was carrying a black gym tote bag and a small black book, the latter of which he stowed in his back pocket.

“Ready to go, partner?” He said, making exaggerated stretches.

Starlight rolled her eyes and unfurled the itinerary. “Our first stop will be Stableton, a bit northeast. The train doesn’t stop there, so we’ll have to go on hoof a few miles.”

“Works for me,” Anon said. “Oh, yeah.” He unzipped his bag and pulled out a scone wrapped in paper. “I figured we wouldn’t have a chance to eat this morning, so I made this for you. Blueberry’s your favorite, right?”

“Uh… yeah. Wow, thanks.” Starlight said, eyes wide as she took it with her magic. She bit into it, it was actually pretty good. Flaky and warm, and sweet but not too much.

“Aw, see? You two are already getting along. I can’t wait to read your first report. Have fun,” Twilight said and waved her wing as her students began walking.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. Starlight thought, taking another bite of her pastry.

“I’m so glad to be out of that castle,” Anon said. “This is going to be great, right, partner?” He rested his palm on Starlight’s ass.

“….”

Starlight brought a block of magic down atop him, leaving him buried in an Anon shaped dirt depression as she continued walking.

“And don’t call me ‘partner’.”

In Case You're Wondering, It Was Ice Cream

“Anon, wake up.”

Starlight hovered over him, rocking him with a hoof.

Anon groaned, a dopey, peaceful smile on his face.

“Anon. Come on, time to get up.” Starlight jostled his shoulder.

Anon grumbled, then mumbled.

“Huh?”

He mumbled again.

“Anon come on, we have to get ready.”

Anon mumbled a third time. It sounded like, “Mmm, I can’t.”

“Oh, you definitely can,” Starlight said. “Come on, we have to leave soon.”

“Mrrh, I can’t… Anymore.”

“What? You can’t what anymore?”

“Mmh, I can’t keep licking, Luna. My mouth is tired…”

Starlight flushed. She lifted her pillow and smothered his face with it.

Anon wiggled, then squirmed, then struggled, then yelled into the pillow.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Starlight lifted it.

Anon gasped and gulped down air.

“Are you crazy?” he yelled.

“Shh, keep your voice down. It’s still early.” Starlight jumped off the bed, then turned to look at him. She waited for him to catch his breath, then said, “You good? Great. We’re going to help them set up today, so I figured we should get up early. That way we can grab breakfast first.”

Anon turned away from her. “No.”

“Huh? What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean no. This is your thing, not mine. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Come on, Anon, they might need your help. Those fingers of yours are really useful, especially to earth ponies.”

“I don’t care.”

Starlight glowered. “Don’t think I won’t drag you out of bed if I have to.”

Anon tucked his head beneath the covers. “Do your worst.”

“My worst, huh? Hmm.” Starlight jumped onto the end of the bed, in front of where Anon was lying, turned around, and lifted her tail.

“Oh, Anonymous…” she sang.

Anon poked out his head. “I told you I’m not going to— fffffffffffffffffffffffffffff!” Anon jolted, flailed for balance, then fell off the side of the bed and smacked the ground head first.

“Hah, that was easy. Looks like you’re up now.” Starlight leapt off the bed and opened the door. “Hurry up and get dressed, I’ll meet you downstairs.” She left him dazed on the ground, tangled in blankets, and giggled to herself as she trotted to the dining room.

Anon trudged down the stairs, grumbling about dirty tricks and “stupid, sexy Starlight.”

He entered the dining area and scanned the room. There were a few ponies scattered around, more than he had seen the previous evening anyway. Starlight was sitting at a table in the corner, munching on a salad and scribbling something on parchment paper. When she saw him, she smiled and threw him a cheery good morning. Too cheery, almost as though she were gloating.

Anon sat across from her and grumbled his reply.

“They’ve really packed the day with events.” Starlight said, then levitated a cherry tomato into her mouth.

Anon’s face was flat and disinterested. He rested his cheek against his fist. “You don’t say.”

Starlight nodded. “And Silver Bell insisted I address the marchers when they finish their route. I guess there’s going to be a parade at the end.”

“Fascinating.”

“That’s where you come in. They’ll start just outside of town and travel down the main thoroughfare to town hall. I need you to meet up with them and see if you can lend a hoof, but also get to know them a little. Some inside information on what moves them will help me put the finishing touches on this speech.”

Anon dropped his chin on the table and groaned.

“Come on, quit being such a big foal about it,” Starlight said. “It’s only for a few hours, and there’s going to be a huge party at the end. Tons of dessert and stuff.”

“What about you. What are you going to do while I play spy for you?”

“Silver Bell wants me to help coordinate the vendors and the crowds, remember?”

He didn’t.

“The town center will be pretty packed, so we have to make sure everypony’s organized.”

Starlight rested a hoof on his forearm and smiled, a soft look that stabbed his heart.

“Thanks for helping, by the way. I know this isn’t what you’re here for, but I appreciate it.”

Anon lifted his head. It was those eyes again, that rich blue. Her ass had competition for best feature.

“Yeah… No problem, fam.”

Anon ordered oatmeal and raisins for breakfast. The oats were fresh, so it was pretty good. Starlight talked about the schedule of events, all the things he’d tuned out during the previous night’s dinner. She finished breakfast before him, so she told him when and where to meet her—in four hours, by the stage—rolled up the rough draft of her speech, and left.

Anon headed to the Stableton outskirts when he finished eating. The whole town seemed busy with preparations. When he passed through the market square, he noticed it was empty, like Ponyville’s market on Hearthswarming Eve. Seemed like all the traders had gone home, or gone to hawk wares in different towns. Anon guessed it was a pretty serious local holiday. Good for Starlight, she was really moving up in the world.

He made it out past the town’s border, or, anyway, to the part where the cute little horse houses were one-an-acre instead of one every few feet. Only about a fifteen-minute walk given the town’s modest size.

A large group of ponies were crowded in a field. Some were chatting, others resting on the grass, but all were either wearing or holding a grey uniform shirt. When Anon approached them, the group’s relaxed attitude shifted toward general apprehension, heads and eyes turned in his direction. Anon stopped midfield, hands in his pockets, and looked around.

“Uh…”

“Take it easy, you bunch of geldings. This is Starlight Glimmer’s sasquatch,” a blue pegasus mare with a black mane said, emerging from the group.

Anon felt a vein in his head throb. “Sasquatch?”

She trotted up to Anon and stretched out a hoof. “Rainy Days, pleasure to meet you.”

Anon hesitated, then squatted and bumped her hoof with his fist. “I’m Anonymous.”

“You’re a lot more handsome than the sasquatch we used to get in the silverback mountains. They should all shave,” Rainy Days said, eying him up and down.

“I’m not a sasquatch, but…” Anon looked along her body to her flank. “You’re pretty hot, so you get a pass.”

“Oh yeah? Well come find me when this is all over and I’ll have us both sweating by moonrise.”

Anon loved how straightforward mares were.

“I take it Starlight Glimmer sent you for an inspection?” Rainy Days said.

“Inspection? Uh, I guess sort of. She asked me to help you get ready for the parade.”

“Hear that, colts? Starlight Glimmer wants us in top shape for our march. Let’s make these last drills count,” Rainy yelled to the group. They responded with a collective whinny, some stomping hooves.

“Woah. They seem pretty disciplined,” Anon said.

“Yep, trained them myself. We don’t need much out here, but some of these foals still have trouble getting their uniforms on.” Rainy pointed her hoof at Anon’s hand. “That claw of yours would be a lot of help. The faster we get them dressed, the sooner we can get them in ranks.”

Anon nodded and stood. The marchers were more comfortable with his presence knowing he was with Starlight. As he went around helping them get their uniforms on, some even asked him about her, and whenever one did, everypony in earshot stopped what they were doing and listened. Anon didn’t know what Starlight would be comfortable with him saying, so he stuck to the basics. She was probably the most powerful unicorn in Equestria, she had a booty that wouldn’t quit, and, oh yeah, she was the protégé of the princess of friendship. This last fact made them look uneasy for some reason. Anon guessed they liked Luna and Celestia better. He didn’t blame them.

When they were all dressed and ready, Anon joined Rainy at their head. She stomped her hooves and called them to “Fall in”. The ponies formed into five parade squares, five by eight each, each led by a unicorn carrying a different flag. The first square had the flag of Equestria, the second a flag with Celestia’s cutie mark, followed by Luna’s, then Cadance’s, and Twilight’s for the last square. “Pass in review.” Rainy yelled, then she led Anon along the line, beaming.

Anon rubbed his hand behind his head as he walked. “Uh, wow. They’re like an army.”

Rainy nodded. “I’m sure Starlight Glimmer will be impressed with what we’ve accomplished in her absence.”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I guess so.”

When they reached the end of the line, Rainy turned and called, “Right turn!”

The column rotated in unison.

“Advance!”

They marched, steps aligned, faces stern. Anon shifted his feet. Rainy marched her parade around the field. The great, multicolor band followed direction without hesitation. Anon watched for an hour as they turned, aligned, circled the field, then realigned. Unease bubbled in his stomach, until by their fifth pass he had to say something.

“Hey, Rainy?”

“What is it?” She said, still studying the march.

“Don’t you think this is a little much for a parade?

Rainy shook her head. “Not at all. Starlight Glimmer needs to know the strength of our resolve. We are ready to carry forward what she started many moons ago.”

“You don’t say.” Anon scratched the back of his head. “Well, guess it’s time for me to be hittin’ the old dusty trail…”

“Are you reporting back to Starlight Glimmer?” Rainy asked.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Please inform her that we’re ready to move at her command!”

“Uh, yeah, will do.”

Anon shoved his hands in his pockets and walked toward town. The thunder of hooves and Rainy’s sharp commands continued behind him.