Johns

Chapters

Time for you and time for me
We will depend
Squeeze some honey on my biscuit
So here's your life
In the evening, when the day is done
School daze
The order of death
A touch of evil
Hideous destructor
Lunge to the maximum
I didn't know I couldn't hear the answer
Don't look until I signal
Everything is going to be okay
It's safe now
Back with the boys again
Super cool
I am a lucky cowboy
Nothin' but a good time
Can you even deliver
Con Te Partirò
Suck it up, Buttercup
Don't let the bells end
Read + Write
We stand up, late at night
Fooling yourself
Everybody knows, everyone's watching
Little sunshine
There's time enough for action
But that time isn't now
Punk rock loser
Carry on

Time for you and time for me

Author's Note

There's no grand design here.

Time for you and time for me

“Like this?” Celestia asked, eye flicking to me for verification or possibly moral support.

I held up my hands, thumbs and fingers at right-angles, and made a frame so I now had her in profile. I also closed one eye and let my tongue poke out, mostly for effect.

“Yes! Just like that.”

“And what was I supposed to say again?”

“‘Look Phillip, I’m a stamp’,” I said.

“Look Phillip, I’m a stamp?” She asked, utterly baffled. That really added something for me, I got to say.

And I laughed, oh how I laughed. I even slapped my leg for emphasis.

Celestia frowned at me, dropping the pose.

“I feel I’m missing something here. Or a lot. Everything, in fact.”

To be fair, so was I, though for entirely different reasons. Magical brain nonsense. Yada yada. Ideas and stuff with no context, all that jazz. I had still enjoyed it, though, so it worked out. Who cared for the details?

“Is my enjoyment of the simple things not enough for you?” I asked her with every ounce and scrap of sincerity I could lay my hands on. Which wasn’t a lot. Celestia just smiled at me, which kind of made me melt a bit and made me lose my train of thought, such as it was.

“Oh, you on your own is more than enough. Though I do like it when you’re enjoying yourself,” she said.

“Oh, but I’m always enjoying myself when I’m with you,” I replied.

These little tea-and-biscuit get togethers she and I had usually went through a phase of this. I think it was a contest, though neither of us ever seemed to think we were the one who won. Typically we just tried to one-up one another with twee platitudes until we couldn’t keep the giggles in anymore.

“Oh, but even the mere expectation of this time spent together is almost enough to fill my heart to bursting,” she said with a wide, wide wave of her hoof.

That got me way quicker than I thought it would. It was the hoof that sold it. I cracked, I did, which set her off too, which just made it worse for me!

Very nearly spilt my tea it got so bad.

“You came out of the gate strong with that one,” I said once recovered.

“I did, didn’t I?” She said happily, settling herself a bit more comfortably.

All this, of course, taking place on the foredeck of the rather quaint miniature house I’d set myself up in in the palace grounds. I think it had originally been a shed of some sorts for the groundskeeping staff? But the place was huge and no-one had been using it when I’d found it so I’d asked if I could sleep it in and Celestia had said yes.

Shocker, that. Almost like got special treatment or something. Cough cough.

I didn’t live there all the time, obviously, being as I was now a fancy-pants man of the world and typically bussed back and forth between Canterlot and Ponyville more-or-less on the regular. Did odd jobs, helped out my buds, hung around taking up space, that sort of thing.

Good to keep busy, you know? People to see! Things to do!

In Ponyville the plan had been - and still was, as I often insisted - to try and track down a place of my own. I just hadn’t had a whole lot of luck with it, mostly due to lack of effort, mostly due to Twilight’s endless and insistent insistence that I could shack up at hers.

Lovely girl, Twilight. Just so nice! We had a neat time hanging out, I must say.

And when back in Canterlot I stayed in this cute house in the grounds. Because.

As opposed to doing what I had kind of maybe sort of wanted to in the first place, which was, you know, staying in Celestia’s room. With Celestia. As much as possible.

The reasoning had involved the suggestion of the two of us possibly needing space? Or that we shouldn’t spend every available moment together as it might be unhealthy somehow? I think that had been the line of thought at the time, put forward by certain concerned parties.

Which sounds sensible on the outside, certainly. But, looking at her right then in front of me, I couldn’t quite recall the exact steps of the reasoning, or how it had seemed so convincing to me at the time. Or anything much, actually. Looking at her I kind of felt that even sitting as close as we were was still too much space.

But I am notoriously biased about this sort of thing.

I was also staring. This I only realised because Celestia, grinning, kept inching her face closer and closer to mine until our noses touched, at which point I finally blinked.

“Sorry, miles away,” I said.

She reached up to give me a peck on the head before leaning back in her chair again, giggling.

“I noticed,” she said.

How horses sit in chairs is deeply unsettling to me, somehow. I just do my best not to pay too close attention to it, really. It’s one of those things that if you do look too closely you just start seeing all that’s wrong with it.

That said, I had almost immediately gone back into semi-staring again without really realising and was only tipped off to this when I felt a wingtip tickle my nose.

“Your tea’ll get cold,” I mumbled, reaching for my own cup and playing it off like I hadn’t been doing anything of the sort.

I’m not blushing you’re blushing.

Further giggles from Celestia as her drink levitated over and she sipped her tea. She took hers black with sugar, like a barbarian, but I was fond of her so I let her off.

I’m a soft touch, I know. I’d let her get away with just about anything, really.

I am rather fond of her. Did I mention that?

“How was your day anyway? Can’t help noticed that you’ve been conspicuously avoiding that,” I said, to direct attention away from how much I wasn’t blushing. I was also curious. These little meetings of ours usually came onto the topic of her day sooner or later, but today she seemed intent on steering away.

“You don’t want to know,” she said, darkly, which was probably among the best ways of getting someone to want to hear about your day.

“Oh, I do, I do!” I said, setting my cup down again, the better to be eager.

This I did carefully and with both hands, just to be on the safe side. That tremor still hadn’t gone - doubtful it ever would - and there were good days and bad days. Today was middling, so both hands for safety, lest there be spillage again, like that other, embarrassing time.

Eh, these things happen.

“Well, in that case I don’t want to soil you with it. It’s nice having a part of my life that work can’t get at,” Celestia said.

I could see the logic of this, actually, but all the same I could also see the drawbacks of her bottling up what was obviously a handful of gripes at the very least. Gripes should never be bottled. They don’t age well.

“Venting is healthy,” I said.

“Is it now?” She asked, eyebrow arched.

“It is. I read that somewhere. Or am fairly certain I read that somewhere,” I said, nodding emphatically and seriously, as though I had journals on the subject to hand were she to require them.

Celestia tried to keep a straight face despite this, but didn’t mange for long and had to look away, grinning lightly and setting her own cup down again.

“Well I can’t argue with fairly certain,” she said. Again I nodded.

“Only a fool would argue with fairly certain,” I said.

“And fairly certainly I’m not fool,” she said, turning back to me and smiling.

That smile. That smile! Did anyone else get to see that? Or was it just me? Or did it only look so stunning to me? Was I just uniquely affected?

So many questions.

Celestia took another sip of her tea and then settled herself.

“Alright, fine. I’ll vent. And just remember you brought this on yourself.”

“My own head be on it. On my own head, uh, fuck. Mea culpa, it’s all on me,” I said, mangling everything and deciding it best to just bow out before I made it worse.

Fortunately for me - and for whatever reason - Celestia seemed to rather enjoy me eating shit like that and so I got another smile. A win, in my book.

“Well, things were pretty normal at first…” she said, getting into it.

The setup was typical. She was holding court as was to be expected, doling out advice and arbitration and receiving thanks and platitudes in turn.

I’d sat in on one of these, ones. Just in the wings, you know. Just to see how the sausage was made. It had been unedifying, though I had been greatly impressed with the ease, confidence and skill with which she discharged her duties. Like she’d been doing it for a while or something!

Not, uh, sitting in her wings, just to say. The actual wings. The former might have drawn comment.

Celestia gave me the basic rundown of how things went, which was - as she’d said - pretty normal. Then this one particular chap approached. Someone she hadn’t seen before! He looked perfectly reasonable at first, so she said, but this impression was quickly smashed once he got started.

I’ll admit, I did not fully understand what the issue was that he’d brought before her. She did explain it! I’m just dense and consistently fail to grasp simple concepts. I really, really don’t understand this sort of thing. SHould probably get better at that.

All by the by anyhow, as it was less the substance of the chap’s issue, and more his style of delivery.

Celestia was quite effusive about that.

“-and he had such a boring voice! I know that’s mean and I’m sorry but it was! And I’d know! I’ve heard enough of them. And then - and then! - he tries to catch me out with precedence! And I know precedence! I was there!” She said, cheeks puffing out.

“Does precedence feel special when it’s happening right in front of you?” I asked.

“You know, I only think you recognise it in retrospect. Or it’s only officially recognised in retrospect. At the time you just think it’s something new,” she said, giving my stupid question far more attention that it deserved. She then shook her head to get back on track, which did things with her mane that I appreciated. “Anyway! As I was saying. He tried to bring up precedence with me - me! And so I - “

And the anecdote spiralled from there. Plainly this had been simmering for her.

Of course a lot of what she said and a lot of what she was venting about continued to go right over my head but that wasn’t really that important if you think about it. I didn’t need to fully understand what it was about to get how she felt about it. You know? She wanted a sympathetic ear, not an expert analysis of events she herself had been through!

You know?

That’s my approach to listening, at least. Seemed to work.

“Anyway,” she said, blowing out a breath and shaking her mane out, plainly unburdened. “It’s over with now. He got the answer he wanted and got to listen to himself talk for a while, and I didn’t lose my temper. Things could have been worse.”

Then she blinked and looked mildly surprised.

“Oh. I do feel better!” She said with quite possibly the single-most adorable look of amazement on her face. Not so adorable that I did not feel vindicated, however.

“I told you!” I said.

“You did!” She said, matching my inflection. I rather liked that. “Who knew you could be a font of such rich and useful advice?”

“Not me, certainly. But like I say it’s just stuff I picked up, really. Skills! Knowledge. I acquire these things. Well, I’m trying to, at least.”

Just wanted to be useful! And, you know, have a good time with cool people. Seemed like a reasonable goal to me. And what better place for it?

“Very handy these days, the way Twilight tells it. I even heard you’ve turned your talents towards sewing on one occasion or another. Has anything come of that, actually?” Celestia said, delicately.

This would be a reference to the bear that I made and gave to her. The bear I slaved over to produce! Blood, sweat and tears! Spinning wheel, got to go round! Well, not quite, but I put the effort in at least! That couldn’t be denied.

She pretended to find it grotesque but I’d seen it in her bed, I knew she secretly liked it.

“Speaking of my original, selflessly handmade gift to you, I’ll have you know I’ve been practising on making those. I like to think I’ve improved,” I said, not rising to such bait.

“Do they look like bears yet?” She asked.

Harsh words! I rankled!

“I’ll have you know they look more like bears than actual bears,” I said, crossing my legs to show how unruffled I was by her needling. This would have looked better had crossing my legs been easier but still, the spirit was there.

Celestia put a hoof to her cheek in wonderfully pantomimed mock-shock.

“That is impressive.”

“I know, right? And what’s more I’ll also have you know that they’re actually rather popular! At least around Ponyville.”

That foxed her!

“Really?” She asked with no bluff and with actual, genuine doubt.

Again, harsh. Come on, lady, why you got to do me like that?

“Really!”

Really really, I wasn’t lying. They actually were proving surprisingly popular, among the kids at least, and at least two of the adults I’d seen so far. Possibly this was just because they were novel. Certainly, they were all a little different - that tremor in my hand wasn’t going anywhere.

Handmade! Each and every one unique! That’s a selling point. Honest.

To be fair, that a lot of them look - uh, unbalanced, shall we say? - is probably another selling point, at least as far as the kids go. Kids like that sort of thing, it turns out. Maybe they’re seeing something we don’t?

I’m not complaining. I get to do something, they seem to enjoy the results. Trebles all round!

Ah! And speaking of enjoying the results...

“Ooh, that reminds me too, I actually did make something that I know for a fact you’ll like,” I said, snapping a finger as the memory came bubbling back through my fascinatingly unique mental geology.

“You did?” Celestia asked, halfway moving to help me as I rose to standing, stopping herself short. I preferred to do it myself, as she knew. Nice of her to be concerned, mind.

“It’s a cake!” I declared once I was vertical, hopping over for my stick and then turning back to Celestia again.

She gave me a flat look.

“There was cake here this whole time and you didn’t say anything?” She said.

I felt there was an accusation hidden in this question.

“I forgot!” I said, waving my free hand.

The flat look continued. I coughed.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll go get it.”

And so I did, clomping back inside my house-stroke-shed to where I’d left the cake - my ad-hoc pantry thing! Didn’t have a whole lot in it because, well, there was a castle outside where food was, but it was really the thought that counted. And in this case it counted a lot, as it gave me somewhere to put my cake.

There it was, sat on a cool marble slab in its little cake...case...thing. Just where I’d left it. Why had I put it on that cool marble slab again? I probably had a good reason at the time.

Kind of silly to have forgotten about the damn thing, really, given that I’d made it specifically knowing that I was coming to see Celestia, but then my memory isn’t exactly my strongest point. In my defence I fell through dimensions and shattered by mind, fucking up - apparently - the whole right side of my body in the process. Surely I can be forgiven for a thing or two slipping my mind?

That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

Still, at least I was better at making cakes than I was at remembering that I’d made them, in my own humble opinion. My baking skills had come on leaps and bounds of late, thanks to my time spent with Pinkie. Marvellous teacher, her, in her own unique way. I had learnt much!

She and I did diverge when it came to decoration, however.

I preferred a certain level of restraint and subtlety, while she could produce a cannon out of thin air and was sort of the living embodiment of the death of subtlety. I often had the sense that she might be physically incapable of not putting hundreds and thousands on anything baked that just happened to sit near her for too long. I, usually, could hold back.

Each to their own, eh?

Still, lovely girl. They were all such lovely girls!

Balancing the cake-case in one hand I hobbled my way back to the teazone, setting the thing down on the little table we had for the express purpose of setting delicious things down onto.

“Ta-da,” I said, opening it up for inspection. “Look at this saucy minx. Check out the piping on that.”

“Ooh,” Celestia said appreciatively, sitting forward, eyes alight.

“Just a Victoria sponge. I put icing on it though because, well, I do like me some icing,” I said, continuing to open up the case. So many complicated folds! Soon though it was open and the cake stood there, proud.

We took a moment to just bask in it. I’d actually done good.

Then it occurred to me I hadn’t brought plates or anything that might have been useful in divvying the thing up.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I said, shuffling off. I’d get that cakeslice I bought, those plates I borrowed, it’d be -

Wait, what was that noise?

I stopped, turned back, and blinked. Everything looked the same, but something was missing. What was it?

I looked a little closer.

“There was a cake here a second ago, I’m sure of it,” I said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, muffled by crumbs, hiding her mouth behind a hoof.

Then I finally clocked that the plate was empty, barring a few more crumbs. I had literally only turned around for two seconds at most - wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or deeply impressed. Perhaps a combination of the two? Horripressed? Impressified?

We’ll workshop that later.

“Ye Gods woman, did you inhale that?” I asked, picking up the plate to examine it for signs of trickery. No trickery, just an absence of cake. When I lowered it I found Celestia looking very sheepish indeed.

“Sorry. That was greedy,” she said.

“Was it good?” I asked. This was my primary concern. It had been baked mostly for her benefit, after all.

In answer to this she burped abruptly, hoof clamping to her mouth again as she went very red.

“Sorry,” she said again, voice tiny.

God she was cute.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, setting the plate down and then, grunting, lowering myself to a knee by her seat. This alarmed her briefly, but by the time she might have thought to do anything it I’d done it, and I was kneeling. This brought us a little more level, and got us much closer.

Much better.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hello,” she said, less red now and more towards the pink, hoof lowering.

Shuffling in closer and setting down my stick I put my hands onto the armrests of her seat, either side of her.

“Missed you, you know,” I said.

“It was only a few days…”

“Yeah, I know. And it was fun times, don’t get me wrong. But still. MIssed you.”

Further pinkness, and a nuzzle to hide what was a rapidly-spreading grin.

“I missed you too...” I heard right by my ear.

Oh, how soppy we were. I think we’re allowed.

When the nuzzle finished she pulled back, and the smile had returned in force. I had just enough time to appreciate this before she moved in again, this time with a definite and obvious purpose.

Time for a kiss, then!

Not going to lie. Kissing a horse is still unusual. Can’t fully explain why - especially since I still got that whole ‘can’t remember humans’ thing going on - but it’s always just there. Generally I ignore it. Works pretty good for me.

Helps that I’m kissing Celestia. Because I - uh - I’m really very fond of her.

It broke after however long it happened to go on for and we both sat back and we had a quiet moment. Somewhere a bird was making noise. Good for them, I thought. Everyone’s having a good day.

“Sorry, think I missed that. Could we go over that again?” I then asked.

“You…” She said, shaking her head.

Worked though!

And she leaned on forward into me and she had the leverage so I just kept on going back and back and her wings came in and oh, I’m lying on the decking now with her on top of me. That happened. Well, worse things have happened.

When it broke that time we stayed nose-to-nose, in the sunshine on that decking, me wrapped in wings. A win, in my book.

I like being held! Deal with it! Embrace it! I’ll fight you!

Ahem.

“I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu,” I said.

“This does seem to keep happening, doesn’t it?”

Not enough in my opinion.

And her face was just so close and her eyes were just so fucking pretty and before I could put a lid on it words were coming out of my mouth and bypassing the more sensible parts of my brain.

“Celestia, I - you - us, uh, we, well - I really like you, you know? Rather a lot. Have I mentioned that? Because I do. I can’t - can’t really express to you the full details of the hows or the why but I just kind of want to get to you that I do. You know?”

This statement left a vacuum in its wake.

“You didn’t really think that through, did you?” Celestia asked me, unable to keep a fully straight face.

“I did think it through, I just said it anyway...”

Not wholly true, but she didn’t have to know that.

“You…” she said again, moving in for another nuzzle. I nuzzled back, just to give as good as I got. This egged her on, and rapidly resulted in some odd manner of nuzzle-off. Winners? Both of us.

Had to end though, eventually, and when it did she sat back up on her haunches, wings withdrawing. I propped myself up on an elbow.

“I have an idea,” she said.

“Oh?”

“The idea was that when you’re in Canterlot you sleep here rather than with me to give us some distance and space, yes?”

“Yes I believe that was the idea.”

“Well, Luna didn’t say anything about me sleeping here with you, did she?”

I wasn’t immediately sure if she was serious or not with that, but looking at her I could tell that, yes, she was completely serious about this. Her smirk spoke volumes, and was also contagious.

“That’s some pretty on-point fine-printing you’ve got going there,” I said.

She gave her mane a flick. Which, again, is a neat trick given that her mane is kind of...flowy and immaterial.

I’d stuck my hand in it, once. This told me nothing.

“I try,” Celestia said.

“She’ll probably be grouchy if she finds out,” I pointed out.

“Maybe. But then again, if she’d really been that concerned she probably would have worded things more carefully, wouldn’t she?”

That’s some brass! You magnificent bastard, Celestia.

“Heh, it’d probably be easier just do what we want and damn the consequences…”

“Easier, but nowhere near as much fun!”

Couldn’t argue with that.

We will depend

Author's Note

One thing after another.

We will depend

Why was I even still awake?

Could it, perhaps, be that the bed was hilariously small?

There wasn’t much denying this. The thing - scrounged up from some arse-end of the palace, as far as I knew - hadn’t been designed with someone of my size in mind to start with, so having both me and Celestia crammed onto the thing was a recipe for ridiculousness in the first place.

Typically, just me trying to get on it required a certain amount of curling up, or else I just hung off it from all angles. With the pair of us it was just a mess. I was sort of sprawled across the mattress and Celestia was sort of sprawled on top of me, the too-small duvet draped over at least part of her, which really set the ‘at least we tried’ tone of the whole thing off for me, personally.

In contrast to myself she actually was asleep, which was nice. Gentle little rise and fall of her breathing I could just feel what with my arm around her and all. The room was also still just light enough for me to get to enjoy the conked-out look on her face. So cute! And yet somehow still regal?

And kind of one trailing, wiggly strand of mane that had just fallen down, too. Somehow. I’ll never figure out how that thing works, I don’t think. Not sure I want to.

Possibly kind of odd to just wile away a minute or five gazing adoringly at someone who was asleep but her face was right in my face so I wasn’t sure what else I was meant to do.

And we were kind of a thing? So I guess that made it better? Suppose that’s up to a certain amount of subjective interpretation. Like EVERYTHING IS.

That’s still kind of weird to think about, really. Us being a thing.

Not that she’s a horse or anything, though some extant part of my original experiences does try to make its opinions on that known sometimes. Or that she’s immortal. I’d largely got over that part. Or that she controls the sun somehow, which hadn’t ever particular bothered me - figure that one out. Or that she has an alarmingly large horn. That’s just something I’ve learnt to live with.

One time she snuck up behind me and jabbed my butt with it. Not hard or anything, just enough to make me jump. And oh how I jumped!

And in fairness to her if I had a horn I’d probably try to do the same thing to her. If I were capable of sneaking up on her I’d probably just try pinching, but my sneaking skills are, ah, lacklustre. For now.

But anyway, no. It’s none of those things I said that made it weird for me. I mean they’re all true, obviously, but they’re not the weird part to me - weirdly, hah! The weird part is having a, uh, well, a girlfriend at all, you know? Or anyone who’d care! About me! I’m just some dickhead. Who’d have thought?

That’s a secret, of course. That I think anyone being affectionate to me is weird. Can’t be telling anyone that! They’d get cross at me. Especially Celestia, though her reaction wouldn’t be so much crossness as some potent mixture of disappointment that I should be so down on myself crossed with dismay that I would think she would string me along like that.

Eurgh, even just the thought of the look on her face is making me uncomfortable.

So why can’t I sleep again?

Oh. Right. Because I’m thinking too much. Makes sense now.

Look son, you got nothing you need to be thinking about right now. Everything’s peachy. There are no intractable issues that require you to waste valuable sleeping time dwelling on them. There are no problems you need to worry about resolving. You’re perfectly placed!

Specifically, you’re placed beneath the comforting weight of a very warm, very nice lady who is inexplicably fond of you. So maybe focus on that and try to get some shuteye, eh?

A compelling argument.

Leaning up to give her a quick peck on the cheek - she smiled in her sleep! I could have died on the spot! - I closed my eyes settled down and got to work drifting off. And it worked, too!

I did not sleep well, sadly. Not that I noticed at the time, being asleep and all. I only really noticed when I fell out of bed.

Luckily, it being a pony bed meant that it hadn’t been that far off the floor to start with. Unluckily, the floor was still hard and I still had mass. So it still hurt. But it could have been worse! Focus on the positives.

Celestia was not in bed. That took me a second to twig, but given the way we’d been arranged if I’d fallen out she would have fallen on top of me. And since she hadn’t, that must have meant she hadn’t been in bed. Ipso facto. Quod erat demonstrandum. Cogito ergo sum? One of those.

Disentangling myself from the duvet and blinking I looked around to see if she was still within sight and, surprisingly, she was. Just across the room, no less! Given that she was standing at the window at about the same time things seemed to be getting lighter I figured she was doing something sun-related. Seemed a safe bet to me.

My falling out of bed did not distract her from this and she finished going through whatever motions she needed to before turning around and finding me there, still perhaps a little out of sorts.

“John? Are you alright?”

You know, I still don’t really get that name. I don’t feel like a John. But then again I don’t feel like anything. Or anyone. I’m just sort of present. At least this way it’s easier for people to get my attention, I suppose.

Though personally I’ve always felt people were unduly harsh on ‘Hey, you!’. It gets the job done, right?

“Hmm? Me? I’m fine,” I said from the floor, assuming a pose of casual ease, propping my chin on my hand. Maybe overselling it a bit. At least it got a bit of a grin out of her, that.

“Did you hurt yourself?” She asked.

Sun was starting to stream in from behind her quite forcefully now. Was she doing that on purpose? Did the physics of that even add up? Did I care?

“No no no, totally fine. Just a little bit of an abrupt awakening, I think,” I said, ignoring questions about the bending of light and other such trifles and concentrating on the issues at hand.

“Why?”

“No idea. Bad dream, I guess.”

I had vague impressions of having had a dream I had not been enjoying. Certainly it must have been unpleasant enough to make my leaving it enough of a jolt to have me launched entirely out of bed. Small it may have been, but up until then I’d managed to never fall out of the thing.

“You had a nightmare?”

“Oh, nothing as serious as that. Nothing major or especially complicated. Even now it’s slipping away from me.”

“What happened? Can you remember?”

I was trying to heave myself up at this point, the thoroughly uncomfortable floor kind of forcing my hand. Fortunately, today seemed a good day as far as legs went and so it wasn’t that difficult. That, and I had a bed behind me to brace myself off. Handy!

“Ah, barely. I wouldn’t worry about it. These things happen, don’t they?”

“Please?” She asked, and I could hardly say no to that. So I cast my mind back.

With only a little effort it became rather vivid, unusual for a dream. Though the more of it I dredged up the more unhappy I felt about it. Not in any rational way, just in a general pit-of-the-stomach kind of a way.

Bleurgh. Feelings.

“Wandering around a house I recognise, searching for my parents, not finding them, just wandering around and around calling out for them but having no-one answer. That kind of thing. Can’t remember details, obviously. Probably wasn’t actually anything like what my childhood home was like - just an impression. But you ‘know’ these things in dreams, don’t you? Ah, dreams. So zany.”

I’d had dreams of this sort more than once, here or there. Some message from deep within the confusing basement of my mind? Perfectly normal anxieties bubbling to the surface?

Certainly, they were all about as subtle as a stubbed toe, which spoke volumes to the levels of tact and delicacy my subconscious had to hand. I’m adrift and technically alone in a world not my own! Whatever life I once had was ripped from me and even now lies forever beyond my reach!

I get it! Change the record. It’s not going away anytime soon, yeesh.

Certainly, while awake and cogent it wasn’t the sort of thing that bothered me overmuch, but while sleeping it clearly touched a nerve. Figure that one out.

Likewise, why I felt worse after this one was anyone’s guess. Just one of those things.

Took me a second or so in my still-slightly-groggy state to register that Celestia had not replied. Perhaps I’d mumbled. Wouldn’t have been the first time! I looked up from straightening out my nightclothes, which had got a little twisted in my fall.

“Celestia?”

She was still looking my way. Now that I was standing I was out of the worst of the sunlight and so could see her properly. Her face now had a look of absolute, naked concern.

“Uh, you alright there-” I started to say, but then:

“Oh my poor baby!” She exclaimed and before I could really process that part she rushed at me, clearing the room in a heartbeat. Hopping on her hind legs for extra height - cheating - she wrapped her wings around my back and smooshed my face into her chest.

Thankfully, she hadn’t put any of her fancy-pants regalia on yet so this was a lot softer than it otherwise might have been. And warmer. And generally nice.

Not that it made any of this any less unnecessary.

“I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need a hug just because I had a bad dream...” I said, muffled.

It wasn’t even bad! It was just kind of annoying and obvious! Like, I get it!

Still. Guess I can’t object to hugs, can I?

“I’m sorry,” I heard her say. I was not immediately sure why she might have said this. Trying to shift to get a look at her face got me nowhere, because her head was resting on top of mine. Again. She did that quite a bit, whenever she got the chance.

“What for?” I asked.

“For not being able to help you.”

Again, confused. When had she been anything but helpful? Hell, if it wasn’t for her, I’d dead! What more was it that she thought she could possibly do for me?

Then I got it. Oh, right. She was talking about helping fix mah brain. Unacceptable! I broke the hug and she dropped down in front of me, making us level again. She looked very sad. I did not like this.

“Hey, hey no, none of that,” I said, cupping her chin. “You’re not beating yourself up over this. It is what it is, you’ve already done more for me than you ever needed to. And you’re still doing it! And you’re wonderful! So don’t worry about it, eh? It’s just how things are. Maybe it’ll get better, maybe it won’t. It doesn’t matter. We’re having a good time, right?”

She nodded, but said nothing.

“Then we’re golden. I’m fine, honestly Celestia. Totally and completely fine. Well, almost totally and completely fine,” I said. She blinked, cocked her head. Adorable!

“Almost?”

“I am a touch peckish.”

That punctured the tension, thank fuck. She gave me a giggle and nuzzled against the hand I still had held up to her which then trailed up and gave her a scratch behind the ears. Kind of weird how much they enjoyed that, really, but oh my how they enjoyed it.

Uh, probably should have been a little more, you know, reserved about how I’d been doling them out to all the lasses down in Ponyville while holding off with Celestia. That was really back-asswards, that was. I hadn’t been thinking!

What must they think of me?

Still, that moment when the scratching starts and Celestia’s eyes just kind of roll back for a second? Words fail me.

At length my hand withdrew. She pouted, briefly, but got over it.

“Breakfast, then?” She asked. I nodded.

“The most important meal of the day, so I hear.”

“You truly are a font of wisdom.”

“I know! Someone should be writing all this down.”

Another giggle! Is someone keeping score?

“I’ll see if a royal scribe is available,” she said, once she’d put a straight face on again.

“So much of my wisdom already wasted…lost to us forever...” I said, turning away and looking pained. I didn’t need to see Celestia roll her eyes to know she did.

There was then a flash and we were somewhere else. I still wasn’t used to that. Normally she warned me, too, but I guess this time this was what I got for being a silly bugger.

We were now inside the palace - castle? Palace? I should really pick one and stick to it - inside one of its many, many dining rooms. This one may well have been specifically set out as a breakfast room. Certainly, it had a breakfasty feel to it.

“You could have at least let me change out of my pyjamas. Hardly dressed for breakfast,” I groused.

Celestia looked down at herself.

“I’m not dressed at all,” she said.

“You’re not? Gasp,” I said, immediately clapping a hand to my eyes.

I yelped when something pointy jabbed me in the bottom.

“Sit down, you…”

Squeeze some honey on my biscuit

Author's Note

Slathered in Marmite.

Squeeze some honey on my biscuit

I fucking love oats, me. Not even joking. Put some oats in front of me and I’ll eat the shit out of them. They’re great. Splash some milk on there - fantastic.

Maybe I’m dead and this is heaven? Plentiful oats, minimal responsibility, pretty lady who likes you. The evidence is strong.

Then again if this was heaven, shouldn’t it be a pretty lady-lady not a pretty horse-lady?

Maybe this is saying more about me than I’m prepared to admit.

Let’s just leave that aside for now and focus on finishing breakfast. Mmm, oats. Fucking love oats, me. I’ll have a banana too, while I’m at it. Living the life, that’s me.

“You’re being very quiet,” Celestia said, snapping me to the there-and-then.

The smile she had at that moment was a gentle one, a favourite of mine. And at close range! The table might have been ludicrously big - almost all of them were around the place - but we were sat on one of the corners. Because it would have been silly otherwise.

Spoon in hand I pointed to my bowl.

“Just contemplating my oats,” I said.

The smile remained, though did change in tone. I should really start making notes on what these different nuances conveyed. I had vague ideas, but still hadn’t quite mastered all of them yet. This one, I think, was kind of amused puzzlement. Or something to that effect.

“I do wonder what goes on inside your head sometimes,” she said.

“It’s not that interesting, I assure you.”

“Hmm,” she said, in a way that suggested she disagreed but didn’t feel like saying so, before returning to her own breakfast.

What was going on inside my head? Not a whole lot.

The problem with asking that question is that, once asked, all thoughts immediately cease and I’m unable to pinpoint anything. Does everyone get that? Probably a sign I shouldn’t be worrying about it.

What I should be thinking about was what I was going to be doing today.

Pretty soon Celestia would be off to do her job - that whole ‘co-running the place’ gig - and I would be left to my own devices. Being a man of leisure and a kept man of leisure at that was nice and all, but had started wear thin on occasion. I had a lot of time and next to nothing I needed to do with it.

Which in Ponyville was fine. There I was hip-deep in friendly folks I could hang around with or help out and there always at least something I could throw myself at. Canterlot? Not so much.

Don’t get me wrong! Lovely place! Very pretty. Good architecture. And Celestia lived here, too, which was a plus in my book. Just not a whole lot for me to do on my own, is all.

Actually, now I think about it, before I’d departed Ponyville for here Twilight had given me what basically amounted to homework. Stuff to assist my continuing efforts at learning to read. More kids books, that sort of thing.

At the time I’d been quite put out by this, but thinking about it now it actually seemed a pretty good option.

Alright then, I’ll do that. That’ll work! Productive and a good way to eat up time. Thanks Twilight, whatever you’re doing right now.

By then I figured I’d been perhaps too quiet for too long again so piped up:

“So apart from dull petitioners with grating voices is anything else of interest happening? I always kind of feel that life is passing me by around here,” I said, pushing my now-empty bowl away from me.

Celestia thought a moment, wingtip tapping her chin.

“Actually, no, not really. Nothing much at all is happening.”

Honestly not what I’d been expecting.

“But this is a land of magic and adventure! That’s what the brochure said!” I said, aghast

“I’m sure if you wanted some adventure you could find some, but as for especially spectacular happenings right now there doesn’t really seem to be anything. This is a particularly tranquil period of mine and my sister’s rule, for whatever reason.”

“‘Cos I’m here, obviously,” I said, reaching for the orange juice.

“Yes John, that must be it, yes,” Celestia said, magically nudging the orange juice so I could actually reach it. I mouthed thanks and then started pouring.

“I’m invaluable,” I said, raising a glass.

Got a wing to pat me on the head for that one.

“Yes John, yes. Invaluable.”

Should we be paranoid that everything was hunky dory? Wasn’t that usually the presage of terrible things? The calm before the storm and all that? Or was that just because things tended to happen one after another?

Again, probably not much use in me worrying about it.

Instead, I drink me some orange juice, put down my glass and the shuffle my chair around the table until I’m sat next to Celestia. For her part she watches me do this without comment.

“Hey, look over there,” I said, flat as anything. I then waited a full second before raising my arm to point to the side.

To her immense and enduring credit Celestia sold this bit as though her life depended on it, gasping in shock and looking over in the appropriate direction, giving me ample time and opportunity to lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek.

She gasped again and turned to me, scandalised.

“It was a cunning ruse,” I said.

“And I fell for it!”

Further kissing followed, not restricted to cheeks, and continuing until both of us had the most sudden and uncanny impression that we were no longer alone in the room.

And indeed we weren’t, for when we came up for air we found, sitting across the table from us, Luna. She had a mug.

Neither of us really knew what to do at this point. Other than stop the kissing, obviously. I schooched my chair back to where it had been originally but this just made a lot of noise and was probably not the best thing I could have done. But I did it anyway.

“Good morning, sister,” Luna said, finally breaking at least a bit of the tension. She didn’t sound mad...

Wait, what am I even talking about? We’re adults! We can do what we like!

We just, uh, both know we shouldn’t really have been doing what we did and were doing because we said we’d make an effort to slow things down. And had been caught not doing that. That’s why we’re concerned, yes.

I get it now.

“Good morning, sister,” Celestia repeated, also giving a tiny bow of the head. Solid as a rock, her, not ruffled at all! “A quiet night?”

“Very,” Luna said, slurping.

Luna slurping was a very disarming thing to see. And hear, I suppose.

Another moment of silence. Celestia then stood up, chair scraping.

“I have day court to prepare for,” she said.

“Don’t forget the crown, it’s important,” I hissed from behind my hand.

Her expression held almost perfectly, but I did get a glance, which I appreciated.

“He’s right,” Luna said, mug raised to her lips. Thanks for the backup Luna, that was actually pretty slick.

“I’ll do my best,” Celestia said, more relaxed now than she had been mere seconds ago, looking from Luna to me and then back again. “I’ll see you later, sister.”

“Indeed,” Luna said, sipping quietly and not slurping.

“John,” she then said, pausing only briefly before going in for a quick nuzzle before clip-clopping her way out of the room, leaving me and Luna still sat at the table.

We both watched her go and then Luna took another long slurp. She did it quietly a minute ago! She was doing that on purpose!

“There’s something oddly cloying about watching the two of you together, but it is difficult to put my hoof onto exactly what it might be,” she said, once Celestia was gone and the door shut behind her.

What a fine and fancy way of saying good morning.

“Well hello to you too, Luna. Yeesh.”

“Apologies. I am quite tired. How are you, John?”

Ah, I couldn’t hold it against her. She likely wasn’t wrong. And she backed me up on the crown thing - comedy initiative! Valuable.

“Top-notch, me. Yourself?” I asked.

“Tired, as I say, but otherwise good.”

Early-morning small talk. Agonising.

“I take it my sister and yourself slept in your bed in the grounds?” She then asked. Straight to the point, her. That’s quite admirable, actually, and one of the things I rather liked about Luna - directness.

And in a shed in the grounds, technically. A shed which inexplicably had a first floor.

“Do you even need to ask?”

“Not really, no,” she said, lightly. I sighed. Smart lady, Luna.

“Didn’t think you did. But just for formality’s sake yes, yes she did. Uh, sorry?”

“Why are you apologising?” Luna asked, eyebrow quirked. Quite the eyebrows, too.

“Because we kind of...said we weren’t going to do something like that?” I ventured.

“I honestly expected the two of you to have done something like this sooner.”

Huh. Well at least she’s realistic.

“So we exercised restraint is what you’re saying?” I asked.

“That may, perhaps, be going too far. But you have at least demonstrated an awareness of restraint, if not a willingness to practise it.”

Sick burn, fuck. That sounded practised. Did I walk into that one? Had she set me up for that? Kudos Luna, kudos, that was pretty good.

“Well you got me in a box on that one, I guess. Both of us. Though it’s probably more my fault.”

“You should not put sole blame onto yourself for things for which you were only partly responsible. It is unhealthy and unhelpful.”

She’s on the ball for someone who’s been up all night. I’d try talking about the weather to lighten the mood but I suspected she’d find some way of turning that back on me. Sharp as a tack, that Luna. No bad thing!

“Uh, suppose you got a point there, Luna. So, ah, things as quiet during the night as they are during the day I hear?” I asked, scratching my neck.

Skillful subject change there, son. Didn’t hear gears crunching or nothing.

Luna did not seem to have the energy to point this out though, so just went along with it, shrugging lightly.

“Things are much as they always tend to be, whenever there is no great catastrophe,” she said, yawning. Then: “And how is life in Ponyville? Have you found a house yet?”

My desire to and feeble efforts at doing so being something I’d previously mentioned and which she was aware of.

“House, no, not yet. Still looking! But Twilight makes it kind of difficult to leave. Everytime I go back she’s just made my room nicer! Lovely girl. Fantastic host.”

You’d almost think she didn’t want to be rid of me or something. Which wouldn’t make sense.

“So I’ve heard. And what of her friends? You are still assisting them, I take it?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, helping where I can. Lovely girls - friendly to fault. Applejack threw a rope around me. It was pretty great.”

That had happened. Practise for something? It was actually alarming what Applejack could do with a rope. Pretty sure some of it should have been physically impossible.

And there’d been other stuff too, of course, but that went without saying. I was always off and about doing something when I was back there.

Luna nodded, swirling her cup.

“It is good that you have been keeping busy, John.”

“That it is, that is it is. Heh, kind of weird how much more of an active interest you take in what I do with spare time than Celestia does.”

Luna raised an eyebrow.

“Is it now?”

Okay, probably the worst way to have worded that, my bad. Sounded a little like I was obliquely throwing Celestia under the bus there - not my intention!

“Well I guess when she and I are talking it just kind of comes up more naturally,” I said.

As opposed to being drawn out of my via questioning. I can believe that. That sounds about right.

Another slurp from Luna. How much was in that cup?!

“What do you and my sister typically talk about, just out of curiosity?” She asked.

I drew a blank, mostly because the question just caught me off-guard.

“All sorts. Anything that comes up. The weather. Breakfast. Other stuff. Sometimes our conversations can get a little, ah, abstract, I guess?”

“Abstract?”

“Yeah, abstract.”

Which was my way of saying that mine and Celestia’s conversations often get very esoteric and disconnected, flitting hither and thither from subject to subject with no link obvious between them unless you happened to be either her or me.

Most of that was my fault, though. I’m a little scatterbrained.

For example, yesterday I had launched - apropos of basically nothing - into a surprisingly full-spirited rant about the discrepancy between the sizes of commonly-available bins and the binbags you could put in them. This served as a springboard rant for a longer, more agonised holding-forth on why binbags are so fragile and how this is a serious failing in design.

Celestia had found this all very amusing, and I’d only really noticed that I’d been talking freely about something very much from back home once I’d been doing it for some minutes without any discomfort on my part, and only once I noticed this did the headache start.

My memory issues are basically the millipede problem. If I concentrate, it’s horrendous. If I do it without thinking, it’s fine. Because that’s how brains work? Maybe?

Magic! What a farce.

Still, I don’t know, me and Celestia just seemed to kind of run on the same frequency a lot of the time. We talked a lot of bollocks, but we enjoyed talking a lot of bollocks so it worked out.

Certainly, I always enjoyed it.

“I see,” Luna said, in a way suggestive of perhaps seeing it from an angle entirely separate to mine. Which was fair, given I’d explained jack shit.

“That wasn’t a very useful answer, was it?”

“Not especially, but you have no need to justify yourself. While I am still of the opinion that the two of you would benefit from rather more patience you are both adults and I am not going to tell you what to do. You seem happy, at least.”

It would be very easy to dismiss Luna as a party-pooper and be grumpy about it but she did mean well, I knew, and I could also tell where she was coming from.

Me and Celestia maybe kind of probably might have had a tiny bit of a habit of getting wrapped up in a separate world consisting only of ourselves and whatever was nearest and comfiest to snuggle on.

Which isn’t...awful, you know? It’s just, uh, maybe a little myopic sometimes…

Good to be grounded every now and then. Even if it doesn’t feel good.

“Plenty happy, me. Living the life, me. You’re probably right. I’ll, uh, she and I’ll talk later about it. Work something out,” I said. No idea what I meant by it, but such placations just fell out of me from time to time.

“As you say,” Luna said, yawning again. My turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you be getting to bed anyway? Drinking coffee seems a bad move.”

“This is hot chocolate,” she said, tilting the cup so I could see into it. She was not lying.

“Is it? Ooh, nice.”

Would explain why I had smelt chocolate and not coffee. Probably should have worked that out sooner.

Had I woken up properly yet? Too many oats, I bet.

So here's your life

Author's Note

Unaccompanied adult wastes time.

So here's your life

Luna left for bed after that, and so I was on my own.

As a rule I don’t do so hot on my own. My brain tends to start eating itself and I get a little listless. I’m man enough to recognise this. So once she’d gone I decided not to stick around. I had homework to do, after all! And pyjamas to change out of.

Servants appeared out of nowhere before I’d so much as had a chance to rise from my seat and, locust-like, quickly stripped the room of anything that needed cleaning or washing up. These guys were good. I always felt a little bad having someone clean up after me but I guess they were getting paid so whatever.

“Thanks guys!” I called out after their retreating backs but by the time I’d finished saying it they’d all already gone. Probably wouldn’t have stopped to acknowledge it anyway, consummate professionals that they were, but still. Always nice to be polite. Courtesy costs nothing and all that.

Once the risk of tripping over a pony had diminished I got up and hobbled off on my way.

I got lost, but worse things had happened. By this point I was fairly convinced that the castle was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, and on the outside it was pretty fucking big so that said a lot.

Also, never did find a staircase. That really cooked my noodle. Was I just missing them? I had to be, surely.

Yeah. They had to be somewhere.

Fortunately for me the place was also lousy with guards who were always willing to give out directions. Not exactly happy to do so - given they never said a word, just pointed - but still, it worked out and I guess being taciturn and severe looking went with the job.

So, bouncing from guard to guard, my wanderings did eventually get me out into the grounds again, albeit the opposite side of them to where I needed to be. Whoops.

Still! No bad thing. A nice walk never hurt anyone, did it? Especially on such a lovely day.

Most days in Canterlot were lovely. Indeed, most days were lovely no matter where I was around here! Even the bad weather had a kind of loveliness to it, whenever it showed up. Most days though, beautifully sunny - very nice.

Unsure what relation Celestia had to the weather. Not much, I didn’t think? I mean, she controls the sun, yeah, so she’s probably tangential but not really tied in?

Someone had explained it to me at some point and Rainbow had also explained it to me but I still didn’t really get it. Mostly I’d just nodded and smiled. It seemed to work, so what did it matter if I got it or not?

Still weird though, to consider that Celestia - my girlfriend! Oh, makes me giddy, that - controls the sun. Can’t quite wrap my head around it. Just odd. Back home it’d be, well, it wouldn’t be that, I can at least be sure of that part.

No sense in worrying about it though, best to just enjoy my walk across the grounds to my shed. Take your time, son! Got the whole day.

And so I did.

It was picturesque and enjoyable, up until the point my leg gave up the ghost out of nowhere and I fell over sideways into a hedge. Admittedly this was pretty funny, but it was also pretty awkward. I’d also - foolishly - left my stick back in the room I’d had breakfast in.

My memory, honestly.

Fortunately my shed was, by that point, within hopping distance so getting there wasn’t too hard and by the time I got through the door my leg was working well enough again for me to be able to climb the stairs once inside, as opposed to crawling up them. Everything worked out!

Once upstairs I got changed. Because I was a man with clothes now. No more tablecloths for me. That was old John. New John had more than one set of trousers.

These were not the clothes Rarity had made for me, these were not fabulous duds. Those were mostly still back in Ponyville. Rather, these were the creation of some local guys and gals, and were quite a bit more subdued.

It was weird, right?

I’d developed a certain level of notoriety, quite without actually doing anything. That I was a strange looking and unique visitor from parts unknown I could sort of excuse as giving me some novelty, that I could figure out. But also - apparently - my mere association with Celestia gave me some sort of je ne sais quoi that some of the locals seemed to find electrifying.

A thorough mystery to me. And definitely more of a Canterlot problem than a Ponyville one. Ponyville was pretty cool with me. I just stomped around and did stuff and they were cool with it. Here I stomped around and got gawped at and folks talked in hushed tones. Urgh!

But anyway, practical result of this - well, one of them - was free shit. Being the one to have made something then worn by the weirdo beastie that hung around Celestia all the time was something that entailed some sort of prestige. Who cared? Enough people, it seemed. Certainly, being the first one to do so had done Rarity some good. She’d told me so!

Weird. So weird!

Guess that’s just me being a novelty.

Kind of made me a little uncomfortable being the centre of so much unwarranted attention, but whatever made people happy, you know? If doing this sort of stuff was what they wanted to do then fine, whatever. I could live with it. I’m a big boy.

And, really, free shit! I’d have been a cad to object. Don’t look gift horses in the mouth and all that.

Hang on a second...

Hah! Gift horses! Oh that’s a good one!

Anyway. Getting sidetracked. I had homework to do, a mind to expand. Digging up the material in question I sat myself down, laid it out and got stuck in.

And I tried, I really did, but it became pretty obvious pretty quickly that my head just wasn’t in it. I looked at the stuff and I went through the motions like what Twilight had taught me to but nothing was going in. A slow day, or just my brain being recalcitrant? Who could say.

Either way I had two options. Keep at it and get frustrated or just pack it in. I knew which one Twilight would have preferred I pick.

Twilight - lovely girl that she is - had a faith in my abilities that was not mirrored in the reality of my abilities.

Besides, I’d heard that frustration was unhealthy. In light of that the choice was obvious. I could give it another crack later.

Ooh! I could get Celestia to help. She’d probably be good at that. She’s good at most things what with, you know, having been around long enough to get good at most things.

Immortal girlfriend! Haha!

Well that’s that sorted, then. Which just leaves me with what to do with the rest of my day until then. Uh…

To town! Yes.

On the face of it going out and about in Canterlot - on my own, no less! - seems pretty counterintuitive for a guy who disliked being the focus of attention. With that said though, the alternative was just to cower inside the palace and be bored, which was not my idea of a good time.

Sure, it’d be uncomfortable to be gawked at, but I’m kind of used to that by now anyway, right? And who knows! Maybe something fun’ll happen! And even if something fun doesn’t happen it’ll still beat sitting around with my thumb up my arse.

This firmly in mind I grabbed my backup stick and hobbled off, my hopes high.

Well, not that high. High-ish.

Things went as I expected. Ponies stopped and exchanged hushed words with their friends, some smiled and waved (I waved back at those words, as is polite and enjoyable) and generally I did my best to ignore it. Fortunately for me Canterlot was a very nice place to walk around. Literally fantastic architecture.

Nothing much going on though. But that’s fine. What did catch my eye before too long was a solitary chap handing out what looked to be fliers with a mounting sense of desperation. Difficult to tell at a distance what his boggle was, but easy to tell he was being deliberately ignored by any and all passers-by.

Once I got a little closer I was better able to make out what it was he was trying to do. Seemed he had some sort of show or exhibition going on just off the street where he was dashing about. Artwork of his, I got the impression. But no-one was biting. Poor sod.

He was so focussed on gaining the attention of others that he failed to pay any himself, and bumped into me as I made to move past. Luckily for both of us I’d seen this coming and so was braced, which kept me upright. He was not so lucky, and flumped to his rump.

Heh, flump.

“Steady on there,” I said, stooping to hoik him back to his hooves by the scruff of his neck. The little ones were so easy to manhandle. Should probably be a little less free and easy with the manhandling, really. It’s probably rude. Just so easy though!

“Ah yes, sorry, I was-” the guy started only to realise he was talking to my legs. He then looked up, and I saw his eyes widen. What an effect to have on someone.

“Hi,” I said.

“Y-you - you’re that thing, aren’t you?” He asked, getting over his shock about as well as most.

Did I mind being called a thing? No, not really. I knew who I was. Or at least who I was now, and that was enough. Call me thing all you want! My sense of self is solid as a rock!

There’s not a whole lot of it but what’s there is solid as a rock!

“Might have to narrow that down a little,” I said.

“Sorry. The hyu-mahn?” He ventured, cautiously.

Seriously! It’s not a hard word! Is this some running joke I’m not privy to?

I’m not even going to bother correcting anyone anymore.

“Yep, that’s me. What gave me away? It was the hair, wasn’t it?” I asked, pointing to said hair. The pony just looked confused, blinking at me.

“Um…”

Celestia would have at least giggled at that, damnit. See! This was why I hung out with her so much. Well, one reason. But a pretty big one. There were others, like me not having to bend over to talk to her.

“Forget about it, it’s fine. Have fun handing out your little thingies,” I said, making to carry on, only for the chap to leap back and block my way.

“Wait!” He cried and I found a pamphlet thrust at me. “W-would you like to see my exhibit?”

My turn to say ‘um’.

“Um,” I said.

Don’t get me wrong, I like art as much as the next man, and the stuff he had in his little pamphlet looked alright to me. I just wasn’t used to being propositioned in the street like this.

Then again, not like I had anything else to be doing.

“Sure, why not. Lead the way, uh - ?”

I left a gap for him to fill with his name. He got the idea.

“Moe Neigh.”

Something about this name annoyed me, but I wasn’t entirely sure what. I gritted my teeth.

“Lead on.”

And so he did, me limping along behind as he moved off the main street and down a narrower, dimmer side one towards - hopefully - the gallery he’d occupied.

You know, one of these days following strangers is probably going to end up biting you.

Then again, this is a technicolour wonderland. What’s the worst that could possibly happen? I get one biscuit instead of two? I get slightly less free stuff than I already do? Fewer ears to scratch? Hah. Hardly bears thinking about!

The place wasn’t that far away, in the end, though it was entirely deserted which was a little depressing. I felt bad for the guy. He’d put himself out there and had obviously gone to some effort with this whole affair.

He even had sparkling wine on a tray! For free! Yeah I took one!

I’d had a little Equestrian booze by this point and had learnt rapidly that it was, in the main, a lot like having sex in a canoe. But they’re mostly only little so I’m not sure what I expected.

Still, nice stuff all the same. And free!

Actually looking at the artwork itself was perhaps a bit of odd experience with him hovering (not literally) behind me the whole time. I sipped my wine and tried to sound like I had at least a general idea of what I was talking about when it came to him asking what I thought. Guy seemed delighted to have anyone there at all, bless him.

Not that we had the place to ourselves for that long.

It seemed that I - notable notable that I was - had been spotted going off somewhere and this had sparked the curiosity of some, who were now trickling in. They seemed surprised at where they ended up and also seemed ‘surprised’ that I was there, but once they got over these twin surprises they too spotted the free wine (and tiny pony buffet, which I’d ignored) and got stuck in.

Pretty soon the place was actually bordering on the lively, and Moe Neigh - urgh - had gone off to hobnob and network, leaving me to tower over all present and grapple with the realisation that it was me being there that had caused this abrupt change in fortune.

Fucking celebrity wanker piece of shit. Look at yourself. What did you even do? Nothing! That’s what! You just stand around! Waste of space, you.

I wonder what Celestia’s up to…

If I’d had a watch I would have checked it. But I didn’t, so instead I just did another circuit of the artwork in case I had any epiphanies, didn’t have any epiphanies and then homed in on Moe Neigh - argh! - to inform him that I was hitting the road.

“Oh,” he said, momentarily put out.

“Liked your work, son. Best of luck in your future endeavours,” i said, bending to give his teeny hoof a bump. It seemed the thing to do.

Could tell from the look on his face though that was he was holding something back.

“Hmm?” I prompted. Could see where it was going, just at an outside guess, but prodded him for it anyway.

“Thank you for coming today and, uh, well...do you think that maybe you could possibly mention this little exhibition to Princess Celestia…?”

Whoomp, there it is!

Ah, I’m not surprised. Can’t hold it against the guy. He’s got shit that he needs doing, I am but a means to an end. I got what I wanted - stuff to do and free wine - we were hardly going to be friends, were we?

“Think you’re kind of overestimating the pull I have with Celestia there, chief. I’ll tell her I was here and had a fine time but I can’t promise anything, she’s a busy lady.”

“Oh, thank you! That’s more than enough!”

I left after that and started heading back to the palace. Didn’t really have the stomach for anything else and besides I wanted a nap.

You know, I think that’s kind of why I don’t like Canterlot that much.

Don’t get me wrong! Lovely chaps and lasses, top to bottom. Never met a pony I didn’t like here. Well, never met one I disliked, at least. I still remember Dr Knacker. But on the whole everyone’s wonderful.

It’s just that, here, well, I get the impression that when they’re seeing me and talking to me they’re seeing and talking to ‘Exotic alien visitor who is also close friends - and perhaps more - with Princess Celestia and therefore of interest and worth buttering up’ rather than just, you know, me, a dickhead. John the dickhead.

Yeesh, this must be how Celestia feels a lot of the time, come to think of it. Folks seeing office and demigod first rather than lovely lovely lady first. Poor Celestia. I’ll give her a hug later. Well, more of one. And maybe a smooch.

Hurr…

For now though, I have to see a man about a dog.

By which I mean, I am going to fall asleep on the sofa in my shed until someone bothers me.

Life of bloody riley, that’s me. Cunt.

In the evening, when the day is done

Author's Note

Maybe consistent, maybe.

In the evening, when the day is done

What a day. What a dull, dull day.

I do sometimes think it lucky that the walls of that hall are a good distance from the throne as the urge to bang my head against them does sometimes press down on me. If I find myself officiating over another boundary dispute tomorrow I may well break into sudden, manic laughter if only to break the monotony. That would put the wind up them, I’m sure.

Though they probably wouldn’t get that it was a joke. It’d only cause me more problems. John would appreciate it, I know, but then he wouldn’t be bringing boundary disputes to me in the first place. One of many reasons I’m fond of him.

I remember when there were no boundaries there! When it was just empty space! Now they’re bickering over where a line is drawn. Important, yes, but so picky. What’s an inch to the side?

A lot, sadly. And so they come to me. Over and over again…

Really, I don’t think things have been any less interesting than they normally are, if I’m being honest. It’s more a case that, after John arriving, I’ve been far more ‘present’, far more aware of the moment and what’s going on in it.

Or what’s not going on in it.

I’m not so foolish to wish that things become more interesting. I’m old enough to know how that sort of thinking turns out. But I’m also old enough to know boredom when I see it.

At least I have something to look forward to in the evenings now. Other than the occasional tea with my sister, of course. Really should pick a day this week for that. I’ve been lax, with John here. Distracted, I suppose the word might be.

I wonder what he did today…

A walk through the grounds did much to calm whatever fraying my nerves might have undergone from a day of hearing arguments I’d heard however many times over the years. That, and it was less conspicuous than simply porting or flying to John. Not that that was a primary concern, of course, but it was a concern.

Hopefully he wouldn’t see or hear me coming. I didn’t go out of my way to surprise him all the time, I just took every opportunity to do so. Hardly my fault John is consistently unobservant and also very cute when flustered. Anyone would do the same in my position!

Honest.

I found the door of his little shed ajar and crept inside.

And there he was, sound asleep on that couch he’d somehow managed to get. The couch that he was about twice the size of, so mostly just hung off, snoring.

Very cute, in a gangling and awkward sort of a way. My favourite way, if I’m being honest. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Creeping over - and cheating to make sure I stayed completely silent - I got close in to him. Then closer still, until I was inches away with him none-the-wiser. I then blew in his ear. Not hard, but persistently.

Very sneaky stuff.

He did not immediately wake up, instead grumbling and rolling over to face the other way. His feeble efforts at escape wouldn’t work on me, of course, and I just moved further over him to keep going. This led to more grumbling and a small amount of squirming.

And his eyes opened.

If he was surprised to see me there looming over him he didn’t show it. Instead, after a moment of understandable confusion over why he was now awake, he just looked happy, which was much better. I’d have taken surprise then happiness, one after the other, but happy always comes out on top if I had to pick just one.

I never got tired of how happy he always looks whenever he sees me. If ever there was a reason for me to live in the moment, it was that. How often did something like that happen? In the grand scheme of things, I mean. Not for me right now, when it’s happening almost daily. I mean in the long term, over the span of years.

Not often enough.

“Hello you,” he said, reaching up and putting a hand to the side of my face. “You’re real pretty. I ever mention that?”

That made me blush. Smile, too.

“I think you’re still half-asleep,” I said, leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead.

He yawned, bringing up his other hand to cover his mouth. Considerate.

“Mehbe. S’still true. N’real pretty.”

“You should probably try to wait until you’ve finished yawning before speaking.”

“But I have to tell you urgently how pretty you are!” He said, reaching up now with both hands to hold my face, looking at me with dead seriousness. I wasn’t going to let his deadpan delivery get a response.

Or at least I wasn’t going to let him see how much I enjoyed it. Really added something sometimes, with lines like that. Maybe it’s me.

“I had no idea it was so vital.”

“Well then it’s lucky I’m the one doing it, isn’t it?”

He got me there.

It was then I noticed that his arms - and, indeed, not just his arm but other parts of him that I could see - were covered in tiny nicks and cuts. This was not normal, even by John’s rather flexible standards of normal. Removing his hand from my face and holding it in both hooves I looked him over. Definitely nicks and cuts, definitely not normal.

“Why are you covered in scratches?” I asked.

John, who had been miles away, didn’t seem to have been paying attention to me speaking. I think he’d been staring at my mane again.

“Hmm? Oh, that. I fell into a hedge,” he said.

I blinked at him. This was probably some sort of joke. Probably. Right?

He just grinned. Not a joke?

“You actually fell into a hedge?” I asked.

He grinned wider.

“Yep!”

This seemed like a good time for me to move backwards, so I did, sitting down and giving him the space to sit up, which he did. Seemed better to have a conversation that way.

“Why do you sound so pleased about that?”

John shrugged.

“It was pretty funny. Probably funnier to have seen happen. Just picture it! Me! Stacking it!”

I did so. Couldn’t quite see the funny side myself, but then John was an odd one.

“Probably had to be there,” I said.

“S’fair,” he said, looking over his arms himself, turning them around this and that way before seemingly deciding that everything was fine and then sitting back on the couch, looking as content as could be expected.

Presumably - and this was me taking a guess, though a well-founded one I like to think - him falling would have been the result of his leg, again. It did still happen from time to time, unfortunately. Lately, seemed to have been happening more. Could have been my imagination though.

Again, I pictured him ‘stacking it’ into a hedge. Just to see if I had any more luck in seeing the funny side. Again, it slipped away from me. I did not particularly enjoy the thought.

All at once I am reminded of how uncomfortable it makes me imagining him getting hurt. Not helped by John’s cavalier attitude towards personal injury. He seemed to think he would be able to just laugh off anything that might ever happen to him. I was less sure.

Times like this I couldn’t help but picture how he had looked when I’d first found him, and letting my mind wander to what might have happened had I not. He’s more delicate than he thinks he is, poor thing. I just want to keep him safe.

Although by the same token I also worry that this line of thinking might-well lead me into being inadvertently clingy and controlling. I worry about this sort of thing a lot.

“Uh, you okay there?” John asked.

I must have just been sitting silently and staring into space. Oops.

“Yes, sorry,” I said, giving him a smile before moving in to sit on the couch beside him. The couch was nowhere big enough to comfortably accommodate the two of us together and we ended up squashed, but I’d known that going in.

He put an arm around me and I put a wing around him and all at once everything just seemed that little bit better.

“You looked like you were deep in thought,” he said.

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Were you deep in thought?”

I waggled a hoof. So-so, it said, and John understood.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said. He nodded.

“Ah, paddling in the shallows of thought. We’ve all been there.”

This got another smile out of me. A proper one, one I hadn’t had to think about. And it only got wider when I saw the look he was giving me. He likes me! He really likes me - me! It’s written all over his face! Whenever he has that look it’s so obvious that when he sees me he’s not seeing anything else. Just me.

After a day of being looked at by everyone I had encountered variously as princess, mediator, settler of issues, role model, deity, one-who-is-in-charge and other related, similar things it is...valuable.

I know - I know - that I could lose everything but that as long as I stayed me that look would not change. He would still look at me the same way.

I may have held onto him a tiny bit tighter then.

I just didn’t want to lose that. Not yet, at least. Not without doing everything I could to hold on. Within reason, obviously. Eventually - and this was another thing that I didn’t really like to think about, even if it was unavoidable - there would be a time when John wouldn’t be around anymore, and I would be. But that was years from now, and not worth dwelling on. I just wanted to do my best to keep him safe and sound in the here and now.

So should I put up handrails on the paths through the gardens?

...I can’t believe I even considered that. No, no don’t be silly. Look at him.

“You’re still thinking, aren’t you?” He asked me.

“Little bit,” I said and he tutted, leaning in to give me a peck on the cheek. I might have blushed at this.

No, he was fine. Falling into a hedge is actually pretty funny, now I think about it. Certainly nothing worth getting worked up over. I’m worrying over nothing. He’s not going anywhere. He’s perfectly fine and perfectly safe. Just relax and enjoy the moment - fretting will just sour it, and where’s the point in that? Appreciate it.

It’s what a normal pony would do.

Live in the now, I thought to myself as I shifted about on the couch to get up and just straddle him. How’s that for seizing the moment? Surprised John, certainly!

Still got it.

“Well it’s good to know you can keep yourself occupied when I’m not around. Even if it by keeling over and messing up my gardens,” I said, putting my legs about his neck.

John, who seemed to be trying to figure out the best place to put his hands (the correct answer here being on me) paused so he could frown at me and wag a finger in my direction.

“Hey! That hedge attacked me. And I’ll have you know I am a responsible adult. I went for a walk around town. How’s that for adult?”

Something of a surprise.

“I thought you hated going out on your own?”

“Well it’s not great, but people don’t stare so much anymore and I didn’t have much else to do. It was nice, actually. You’ve got a nice capital here, anyone ever tell you that? I went to an art gallery, too. Cultural, see?”

“You’re far too sophisticated for me, John.”

“I know, I know. This is me slumming it.”

Couldn’t help but giggle at that, leaning in to give him a nuzzle. I felt his hands settle on my sides. Much better.

“It was, ah, pretty alright stuff, actually. Could be worth us just popping down to have a look,” he said.

I pulled back. My turn to frown a little.

“Did the artist ask you to ask me to visit?”

Getting to me through John wasn’t really the sort of thing liable to get anyone in my good graces. Not that many had tried. Enough so far to start towards annoying me. It just seemed cheap.

John, for his part, had it roll off him every time.

“Yes. But honestly it was alright. Really!” He said. I searched for signs that it might have been anything less than alright but John seemed to really believe it. Which was something.

“Maybe tomorrow, time permitting. It might be nice to go out together. Though I imagine it’ll be rather busier with me coming along,” I said.

“That happens.”

It did indeed.

Tomorrow would be the last day of his stint in Canterlot, with him heading back to Ponyville in the evening. Time had flown, but then I always thought that when he was around. He’d be back again before I even knew I told myself. And it was true. It just didn’t feel especially true, at least not right then.

John squirmed beneath me a little, shifting to get more comfortable. I rose up enough to let him before settling again. Very snug, this. I rather liked it.

“Also: were you blowing in my ear earlier?” He asked.

“I don’t have to answer these wild accusations,” I said, bending down and blowing in his ear again, resulting in a very satisfying shiver running right through him.

“You know, I think I’m too soft on you,” he said, faux-grumpy as I gave him another nuzzle. How did he always smell so good? Or was that just me?

“Well, you could always be harder,” I said. Spur of the moment.

For a second it was pretty obvious that he had not expected anything like this because his stunned silence had a volume all its own. I appreciated this a lot. He bounced back quickly though.

“Steady on there, Celestia. You may not realise it, but I was once a weak man,” he said.

Pulling back so we were nose-to-nose I brought a wing in to just tuck in under his chin and make sure his eyes stayed on mine before saying:

“Once a week’s enough for any man.”

That got him.

School daze

Author's Note

Hmm.

School daze

Well that had been lovely. Nicely restful and cosy and sedate, with occasional periods of exertion and excitement. Can’t complain, eh?

Back to Ponyville though! Back to the routine, the back and forth. Such is my life now. No bad thing, in my book. Certainly, things could be worse!

I mean, it was kind of bad seeing Celestia shrink into the distance as the train pulled away. That’s never fun. She smiles and waves - surrounded by guards as she is, standing on the platform - and I smile and wave while leaning out the window.

They tell me not to do that but I’m a wildman, me. Can’t contain me!

And no tunnels near the station anyway, so no risk of ending up wandering by the tracks trying to pick up my head after it’s torn from my body, stumbling around while it shouts directions.

Ahem.

But yes, she waves and I wave and it’s nice but it just makes me kind of think that maybe staying in bed with her that day and missing the train wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. I mean, it’s always warm and cosy whether it’s her in my bed or me in hers. You know? And it’s not as if the trains would stop running. I’d just miss the one I’d been planning on getting on.

Not the end of the world, right?

Sigh. Sigh! It’s a slippery slope though. I know, I know. Routine exists for a reason, don’t appreciate what you have if it’s all you’ve got etcetera.

Doesn’t make watching her wave goodbye any less unpleasant for me!

Oh yeah and Luna’s there too sometimes. But she doesn’t normally wave.

Honestly I think she’s there to make sure I don’t skip the train and hang around. Hey, it’s smart. I’d probably do the same in her position.

But no sneaking off the train for me. Doubt I could manage it anyway, what with my leg. So instead I just tuck my head back inside the window and sit in the carriage and daydream for the duration of the journey. I’d read something but, uh, kind of been slacking on that. My bad.

Fortunately it’s a scenic journey. Lots of good scenery. Lots to gawp at. Really makes the time fly.

And another princess waiting for me at the other end! Princesses for days! And all so lovely!

“Hello Twilight!” I said, hobbling and stooping my way off the train and onto the platform where, funnily enough, Twilight was waiting.

The smile she gave me was wide indeed, only beaten in width by the one Celestia inexplicably broke out whenever I came back on her end! A princess thing, possibly, though always welcome. The smiles were both very nice.

But then I just like smiles generally, I think. I think I’ve advanced enough to admit this, now.

“Hello John!” She said, wincing a second later on seeing that I was trying to take a knee to get more on her level for a ‘I am back and I am going to hug you’ hug. “It’s fine John, you really don’t-”

“Too late!” I declared, dropping with a grunt. Oh, getting up wasn’t going to be easy.

Twilight continued to look concerned but I just laid my stick down and beckoned her in. Her resolve didn’t last and in she came and hugs were had. Wonderful stuff. The littler ones were just so cuddly!

“Nice to see everything’s still standing. You know Twilight, I’ve learnt a thing or two about this place - kind of convenient I only learnt it after deciding to halfway settle here, hmm?” I asked, in jest, as she curled in against me. I felt her pause.

“...it’s not that bad,” she said, muffled by me in a general sense. I gave her a pat.

“Just pulling your leg.”

Hugging resumed. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she missed me!

With a final squeeze we did manage to disengage after which poor Twilight seemed a little confused as to what to do next. Personally, I got busy with standing upright again which was, as I’d predicted, not that easy. Bad leg day.

“Do you need help?” Twilight asked, but I waved her off and with a heave was back up to standing, where I belonged.

“Still got it,” I said, grinning down at her and doing my best not to fall over sideways. Very bad leg day.

And off we went, Twilight trotting, me limping.

I did like this place. Generally, I mean. Not just Ponyville - ugh, that name though. This whole world is rather pleasant, I find. Agreeably it’s, you know, technically sort of the only place I really ‘know’ in many ways but still. I know enough about where I came from to be pretty certain I have a good deal here.

And out of the two places wherein which I dwelt, I did have to admit that Ponyville topped out over Canterlot. Points in Canterlot’s favour? Celestia, obviously. Big points. Mad points. But Ponyville had the superior atmosphere and a plethora of fun activities - those are strong points!

Ah, spoilt. That’s me. Life of riley.

It was nice being back. I knew it would be - it always was! The trick is getting there, but that’s life really. Once you’ve got going everything just clicks, and it’s the getting going that takes the doing!

Or something.

Point is it was nice to be back and I was rather looking forward to continuing my haphazard bumbling around and making a nuisance of myself. The locals seemed to like it well enough, and in sharp contrast to Canterlot they didn’t stare. They looked my way, sure, but that was so that they could wave and say hello, which was much nicer than staring.

And it wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

First to that big gaudy palace-castle-thing of Twilight’s though, for the train journey had eaten up a big chunk of the day, and I rather wanted a shower. That, and I apparently had something there she was keen to show me. Colour me intrigued.

Turned out that Twilight had inexplicably and without warning invested in a bed that was actually the right size for me. When I expressed my amazement and wondered aloud where she must have got it she told me - off-hand, like it wasn’t a big deal! - that she’d had it made especially! For me! Commissioned the damn thing!

Blimey she’s lovely. What did I do to deserve that? How do I deserve any of this?

“I’m getting you back for this,” I said, once she’d explained that, and the rather pink half-smile she’d been wearing popped away to be replaced with confusion.

“Huh? But I-”

“Look at what you did! This is far too nice! And here’s me having done nothing for you! I’ll figure something out, Twilight, you mark my words. You won’t know what hit you. Now come here, you!”

She was still trying to work out what it was I’d just told her when I struck, and could do nought but squeak as I swept her up into another hug, this one of the ‘You are far too lovely to me’ variety. Different to the welcoming hug. It’s all in the details.

Wonderful girl, Twilight. No idea why she’s so nice to me.

A shower followed this, thence onto dinnertime. With the gang, no less! Imagine my surprise. Apparently a complete coincidence them coming over. Sure, I’ll believe it. Ah, lovely to see them all though. Nice to hear about what had been happening in my absence. Flying around, looking after animals, fashion, apples…

Nothing groundbreaking I’ll admit, but where’s the harm in that?

At one point the conversation wandered - not for the first time - onto whether or not I was ever going to stop staying at Twilight’s, move out and try to get a place of my own around town. All light-hearted discussion of course, just something of a running joke at this point.

I claimed that I was allergic to living anywhere that wasn’t some sort of royal estate or property and, furthermore, had no money and was probably not allowed to own property of my own anyway, being an interdimensional stranger there by accident and all that.

All a joke, obviously. As said.

That did get me thinking though. Dangerous as that is, I’m aware.

I had no idea what my legal status was. Should probably ask someone that at some point. Was I citizen? Did I have rights? I’d heard the term ‘guest’ thrown around a lot but what did that even mean?

Not that I’m, you know, worried or anything. It’s just the sort of thing I should probably pay more attention to, right? That’d be what a normal person would do.

Later, though. I’ll find time for that later. Twilight’s probably got a book on it.

Maybe I can become a citizen! Is there a test? Ooh, not sure how I’d do on any tests. But still. Just imagine! Me! Equestrian citizen! I could get a passport! Hah! Ahahaha!

I kill me.

And then it was dessert and then dinner wrapped up and we were waving that lot off on their way home and then it was bedtime. More of a going from here-to-there sort of a day than anything else but I’d expected that - tomorrow, I was sure, would be busier!

Tomorrow started auspiciously enough, with tea. I sat at one of the many, many tables the place had to sit at, just staring into space wondering where this tea was actually being imported from. If anywhere.

Down the road? Who knew?

This rich and fruitful avenue of contemplation was interrupted by the appearance of Twilight, accompanied by someone I had not ever seen before. Or, rather, had seen before but never met in a social capacity. Distinction without a whole lot of difference.

She was kind of red, I think? And the personification - ponification? Ugh, no, that sounds awful - of perky. Just radiated from her before she’d even said anything. Like a heat haze!

If I wasn’t already a massive softy it seemed pretty likely that her presence alongside Twilight’s would have made me one on the spot. Just so adorable and nice! Could have been here for any reason, I’d be putty in their hands! Er, hooves.

Fucking ponies! Argh! You’re infecting my brain with your insistent terminology.

...though I guess they really don’t have hands, they can’t help that.

“A fine morning to you, Twilight, and an equally fine morning to you, uh - ?” I asked, doing my best not to look too much like I’d been lost in thought.

“Cheerilee,” said Cheerilee, cheerily. Fitting.

“Good morning Cheerilee,” I said, giving her a good morning nod.

I assumed there was a reason for this happening and looked over to Twilight, figuring she’d be the one to explain what the deal was. In this I was not disappointed.

“Good morning, John!” She said, stepping forward. “Cheerilee was wondering - if you weren’t busy - whether you wouldn’t mind visiting class today.”

Okay, didn’t see that one coming I’ll admit.

“...what?”

Cheerilee herself stepped forward at this, obviously figuring that she could do a better job of explaining what it was she wanted than having it delivered second-hand while she stood there like a sinking pudding. Fair play to her.

…

“Um. Okay.”

I’m not a teacher so maybe this would make more sense to someone who was? Certainly, there was nothing in Cheerilee’s face that suggested the possibility that this wasn’t a good idea had even crossed her mind.

Then again, she doesn’t really know me that well, so that might be why.

“Well, as you can clearly see I’m extraordinarily busy, but I’m sure I could squeeze you in,” I said, waving my mug around. If Cheerilee could tell I was joking it wasn’t obvious, she just smiled wider. Jesus. Could anyone look happier?

“Great! Class starts pretty soon so…”

She let that hang. I got the point and finished my tea.

“I’ll hobble after you. Uh, I won’t be able to tell them about, you know, humans or where I’m from or anything. You know that, right?” I asked, groping gently for a way out even as I was standing up. Cheerilee did not seem bothered.

“That’s fine.”

I thought for other problems. There were lots, so I just picked one at random.

“I haven’t been fully CRB checked,” I said.

“I don’t know what that means but I’m sure that’s fine too. You’re not going to bite any of the children, are you?”

What. Again with the what.

“As a rule I thought biting children was something best avoided?” I asked. Just to be sure.

“It is,” she said, totally sincere. I swallowed and then said:

“Then I shall not do it.”

“Great!”

That’s a pretty low bar, lady.

Still, that basically settled that, that was my day sorted, I guess? I waved goodbye to Twilight and followed Cheerilee off and out and onward to school, apparently. What a time to be alive.

The school turned out to be a wonderfully quaint little building, but that was hardly a surprise. ‘Wonderfully quaint’ summed up pretty much all of Ponyville. I had to duck to get in but that wasn’t unusual either, and then it was me standing beside a desk and in front of a chalkboard while Cheerilee was around and about herding pupils.

And in came the kids in spits and giggling spurts.

How were their eyes so big when they were so ickle? Surely this was unfair? Surely there should be rules against this sort of thing?

Some of them I vaguely recognised, having made one of my extremely famous definitely-a-bear bear’s for them. Couldn’t name any of them, though. Because they hadn’t given me their names at the time. And I would have forgotten anyway.

Fuck but they were adorable though. Terrifying, given the way they were staring at me stood up by the desk as I was, but still. Terrifyingly adorable. I just sort of stayed swaying on the spot, frozen and looming.

Once the last of the kids had been herded in and sat down Cheerilee herself entered, shut the door and took her own seat. There followed the comfortingly familiar back-and-forth ‘Good morning’ sort of thing that happened in schools - ah, took me back! Then came an introduction for me, through which I just stood awkwardly.

I was - apparently - there to help her out, whatever that meant. Handing out pencils and such as it rapidly became apparent, and to just render what help pupils might require. Again, whatever that meant. I think I was just there for novelty value if I’m being honest. Can’t complain about that I suppose.

Mostly though, my presence served primarily to distract the children.

I failed to see any educational value in this.

The questions started even before I’d finished assisting in handing out the materials, one tiny little kid piping up in my shadow:

“Is it true you kissed Princess Celestia?”

Damn punk kids! Impertinent questions! What was this? I looked to Cheerilee in the hopes that maybe she’d exert some authority and clamp down on this foolishness but she showed no signs of wanting to do this. If anything, she looked interested in the answer!

Wasn’t this widely known already anyway?! Hadn’t I done that to myself? That whole thing before? Had only part of that managed to make its way into the group consciousness?

Bah. Hot nonsense.

“She kissed me!” I said, firmly. Though on the followup I was a lot less firm sounding: “Uh, since then it’s kind of been a bit, ah, less lopsided I suppose but, uh - anyway! Why are kids asking about this? Not appropriate! No more questions!”

This was greeted with a deeply disappointed ‘aww’ from everyone, even Cheerilee. I gritted my teeth.

“Fine, just a few more. But then I’m sure you all have work to do! Next question! You! With the - you in the back!”

I’d been a hair away from saying ‘you with the hooves’. Wouldn’t have narrowed it down.

A handful of other questions followed, what had clearly been an unspoken eagerness among the kids now bubbling to the surface now that the first query had been loosed. So to speak. A couple more of them concerned Celestia and these I mostly deflected, a couple others were about humans and these I just couldn’t really answer. Did my best though, and the kids seemed satisfied enough.

Thankfully, Cheerilee did step in before too long and bring them all back onto the topic at hand, which was learning. This was their futures we were talking about here, after all!

I spent the rest of the morning assisting here and there with this and that, doling out further pencils, collecting papers, sitting the corner and staring into space. Once or two I aided with arithmetic - which I could manage - and was also called upon to aid in spelling - which I could not manage, given how I still couldn’t, you know, read all that good.

A lot of them were probably more literate than I was, to be fair. What was the language called again? Mareain, wasn’t it?

This place, honestly...

At some point in the day a bell ring and signalled breaktime, the time at which all the little kids got up to go outside and run around in circles screaming, as children are wont to do.

I was tasked with overseeing this, again, whatever that meant. Mostly I just stood around keeping an eye out for any ruckus that looked to be getting too intense.

Once or twice when one of the kids fell over flat on their face - again, as kids are wont to do - I picked them up, dusted them down and told them they were alright, at which point their sniffling stopped and they started running and screaming again.

Kids. Fucking indestructible.

And then at some point one of them wanted a leg up onto my shoulder, so they could enjoy the view. This seemed fine to me and not a big deal so I stooped a little and let them get on with it, much to their delight.

Turns out though that once one of them had done it and the others had seen them do it they all suddenly wanted to do it. The first few to come bouncing around my ankles asking got the primo spots - shoulders, head - but after that they started just trying to latch on anywhere they could.

I learnt - too late, as it happens - that while individually not that heavy, altogether they formed a mass and a weight greater than the sum of their parts. That they kept on wriggling didn’t help either. That’s what really put paid to my already shaky balance.

And down I went. Backwards, so as not to squash anyone, but still. I fell over and landed with an oof, left staring up at the sky.

For some inexplicable reason this served as some kind of unspoken signal for the kids who, as one, descended upon me en masse. I found myself buried beneath giggling bodies.

“They’re all over me! They’re in my hair!” I cried, to no avail. If anything it just made them giggle harder!

Cold-blooded!

Who could say how long I struggled there? Trampled harmlessly beneath tiny, squishy hooves? Was this to be my end? Would I ever see daylight again?

I think one of them stepped in my mouth. Urgh. You don’t know where I’ve been, kid.

The bell rang again and I heard it in a distant way and it was like a signal - well, it was a signal - and all at once the kids dashed back inside. I kept on flailing around for a few seconds after this mostly because it had just become a reflex at this point, but once it sunk in that I was no longer being swarmed I stopped, sheepishly, and let myself just flop limp.

Cheerilee’s head appeared above me, blocking out the sun.

“Are you okay?” She asked, peering at me, plainly concerned.

“That was an experience,” I said, squinting up at her.

She offered me a hand up but I politely declined. Or politely declined her offer of a hoof up, I suppose. While I was are of the prodigious strength of the not-pegasus not-unicorn ones - earth ponies, I believed they were called - it still left a bad taste in mouth to rely on it. I’m not a small chap, after all. Just doesn’t sit right with me.

Now Celestia? She can and does haul me around like a bag of flour when the situation calls for it. With her I don’t mind though. Even though I’m taller - this is important! - she’s probably maybe a little bigger on the whole, so her doing that is less offensive to my irrational sensibilities.

That, and it’s rather...novel...being manhandled from time to time. By a nice, pretty lady with a nice, pretty voice.

...maybe this says more about me…

Anyway!

Point is I got back up, dusted myself off and the both of us went inside again.

The rest of the day went largely as the morning had, and was - I will admit - not all that bad. Kids were cute, most of their questions were fairly easily handled and eventually I even got a chair to sit in, for which my leg was profoundly thankful.

All-in-all not the worst day I’ve had.

It wound up some time in the early afternoon, business concluded, children all galavanting off to do whatever it was they would be doing from then on. All barring a handful, at least, who were hanging around and who seemed to be waiting for something.

I found them in the corridor outside after I’d apologised to a nonplussed Cheerilee and excused myself.

“You alright there?” I asked and they jumped.

Two of them seemed to be playing backup for a third, who appeared close to bottling. They resolved however, and drew themselves up as much as they could being a teeny tiny babby pony.

“Mr John?” They asked, adorably.

Oh my God! ‘Mr’ John! This is the cutest thing I’ve ever been subjected to! Be still, my heart!

“Need something?” I asked, heaving down onto one knee. I seemed to do this a lot these days, and it wasn’t getting any easier. By the time I’d done that the kid had produced from their bag - somehow - one of those definitely-bears I’d made.

“He’s broken,” they said.

And this bear was thrust towards me. Bemused, I took it.

I held the bear - or what was left of it - up for a better look. It dangled, horrifically.

“What did they do to you?” I breathed.

“Can you fix him?” Asked the kid, snapping me back to the moment. With effort I pulled my eyes away from what had happened to the bear. I cleared my throat.

“Are you children familiar with the term ‘write off’?” I asked.

They were not. In the end I just told them I’d take the bear away and see what I could do, which meant that I would probably be supplying a fresh one at some point. I would give the original a proper burial, brave soldier that he was.

But that would be something I could do later. Tomorrow, perhaps. For now I was pooped and I had a big, slightly-interesting day on which to vent to Twilight, so I went about tracking her down. The castle being the size it was and me not exactly being the speediest this took longer than I expected, but I found her in the end - reading a book on her bed in her room.

“Knock knock,” I said, entering. She did the same to me and neither of us ever seemed to mind much. I immediately stumped over to the bed and collapsed forward over it, bouncing her half a foot. Again, this was just something that we did.

“Kids! They’re exhausting! I’m bushed,” I said, stretching. Twilight turned a page.

“Not want any of your own, then?” She asked, casually. I nearly fell off the bed.

“Holy sh- okay, first, how would that even work? Could that even work? Second, you blindsided me that one Twilight, Jesus. Well done.”

It quickly became clear that she had meant nothing by it, or at least nothing so specific or so insinuated. She was redder than I was!

“I just meant generally! N-not specifically!” She hastily clarified. The idea amused me greatly.

“Can one generally acquire children?” I asked.

“I don’t know!”

I got the impression she hadn’t fully thought the question through before asking it. We’d all been there. Hey, I practically lived there.

With an obvious exercise of will Twilight calmed herself, taking a breath, putting her bookmark in, closing her book and setting it down atop the duvet just beside her, all of this down with exquisite and clearly intentional poise.

“Heh, generally acquired children…” I said, mostly just to puncture her calm.

I knew what she meant, obviously, but still, I just liked seeing her flustered. It was cute! No court in the land would convict me!

Didn’t work anyway. She just sandbagged me, smiled, and said:

“There was something I was going to run past you, actually. Handy you came here when you did.”

“That’s why I came here when I did,” I lied. Twilight rolled with it.

“Considerate,” she said.

“That is the one word people always use for me, yes.”

Twilight continued, unwilling to be distracted by my flippant bullshittery:

“In a few days I’m actually meant to be going to the Crystal Empire. Not anything official, just kind of a low-key family thing. See Shining, see Cadence, that sort of thing.”

These were all places and people I was semi-familiar with, at least in passing. Certainly, I’d heard them mentioned once or twice. I knew they existed.

“Very nice. First I’ve heard of such a trip!” I said. Nice to know Twilight had other shit she did.

“Well, I was waiting for confirmation and I got it while you were out, so,” she said. I nodded. All sounded about right to me.

“Ah, I see. So up North, eh?”

‘North’ was about the extent of what I knew of this empire place. That and it was grim up there. Or at least cold. Exact levels of grimness open to debate.

“Quite a bit North, yes. But, uh, well, I was wondering if you wanted to come along?” Twilight asked, tentatively. I blinked. Day of unexpected invitations, this!

“Me? Didn’t you say it was a family thing?” I asked. Twilight shrugged and grinned the tiniest bit sheepishly.

“Kind of, yeah. But I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. I just thought you might like to see the Crystal Empire. And you’ll get to meet Cadence.”

This was certainly a selling point, me seeing cool new stuff and folks. I mean, why not?

“Ooh, the mysterious other princess,” I said.

“She’s not that mysterious…”

“Well I’ve never met her so that’s pretty mysterious to me. I’ll have met them all after this! I can compare and contrast. Don’t worry though,” I leaned in, put a hand up to my mouth and whispered: “You’re comfortably in second place for me right now. Think you’re pretty safe there.”

Twilight’s grin returned only less sheepishly this time, and more generally.

“Luna won’t be happy I beat her,” she said.

Hah, sure. I blew a raspberry.

“Oh no, Luna’s first, obviously. Celestia’s like, a distant third,” I said. “Thinks she’s so big with all that...stuff of hers that I...like…”

I kind of fumbled that one. I coughed and moved on, pretending that it might be possible that Twilight hadn’t noticed me eating shit on my own punchline.

“I like this idea, Twilight! More of the world! Interesting new vistas. This is a couple days from now, you say?”

“Yes,” she said. I’d have to knock that bear out double time! Or else put it off until I’d come back. Hmm...

“Just you and me going up, I take it?” I asked.

“Yes. Is that okay?”

“No reason why it wouldn’t be, dear friend. This going to affect my, uh, back-and-forth arrangement? Should I send Celestia a letter or…?”

Not that it was like a dealbreaker, I just figured that Celestia might be confused and alarmed if I apparently just dropped off the face of the planet without telling her. Kind of a dick move, that.

“I can do that,” said Twilight.

She’s so handy to have around! Time to get some Northern exposure!

“Capital stuff! More royalty in my life can only be a good thing.”

The order of death

Author's Note

You may not enjoy where this is going.

The order of death

I did some reading up on the place before we left. Seemed like a good idea.

Had a strangely Brigadoon quality to it. Or at least that was what leapt to my mind without really understanding why that might be. Certainly, the idea of a lost kingdom literally just not being there for a thousand years before popping back into reality was kind of wild. What a country!

Confusingly it didn’t appear to be an actual empire, but one city state? Is that how empires work? Shouldn’t there be more?

I was probably missing something. If there was a mistake someone else would have pointed it out, right? Right. It’s probably me.

No use getting tangled up in such trifling details anyway. I was excited! This place sounded very fancy. I’d heard about it before, of course, but only in passing and Twilight had only given me but the abridged version of its history. I distinctly remember her not being a fan of its former monarch the last time we’d spoken about it, and during my light smattering of research I could rather see why. Not the nicest sounding of queens. Thankfully now deposed and defeated. With magic! Twice!

You know, I’m very glad they got all of the big, nasty stuff done and dusted before I showed up. Really kept things nice and settled for me. Very thoughtful of them.

Departure wasn’t immediate, obviously, and I hung Ponyville just spinning my wheels. I did make another bear - I had enough bits laying around and it wasn’t difficult. Tracked the kid down, handed it over, said it was the original good as new. Did I feel bad lying to a child?

Yes, briefly. But it passed.

From the others around town I also picked up more bits and pieces about my destination - they all seemed about as excited about me going as I was!

Learned about this big crystal heart thing. Ponies made of crystal, too, apparently? GUess they had a theme going. And learned some more about Cadence, who was sounding lovelier and lovelier with every new thing that came to me.

“Princess of love, huh?” I asked Twilight one evening and she’d just beamed.

“Yes!”

Oh ponies. You wonderful, squishy bunch. Of course you’d have a princess of love. Why wouldn’t you?

What would that even involve? Suppose I’ll find out!

Also some stuff about having been Twilight’s babysitter or something? Married to her brother? Pretty sure I’d had all this explained to me already but sometimes it’s difficult to keep all this stuff sorted in my head.

Anyway. The week happened and the day arrived, the day of departure!

I was rather looking forward to the trip, I must admit. It was always nice having something new and different to do, and this certainly stuck out. Whole new place! Whole new people! Snow, maybe! And getting to go with a fine and fabulous friend of mine, too.

Life of bloody riley!

There were hugs to be had on the station platform prior to departure and then it was all aboard and all up north. Travelling light, Twilight and me. Didn’t really need a whole lot to take with us anyway, it was only to be for a day or two or three at a push.

Unlike the pleasant, whimsical trips between Ponyville and Canterlot this was one big, serious rail journey. The scenery wasn’t up to much, either. It had a grandeur to it, sure, especially the further north we went, but it wasn’t exactly what I’d call picturesque.

Fortunately for me I had Twilight on hand to annoy and to talk to in a more normal capacity, as and when the mood took me. Unfortunately, Twilight also had me to annoy and bother, and she also - perhaps sensibly and certainly for my benefit - took the opportunity while I was trapped with her to get me sat down and really hammer me down on the whole ‘learning to read’ thing.

Clever girl.

Ah, there were worse ways of passing the time. At least this was productive. And fun! A fine teacher, Twilight. And patient, ever so patient! With someone like her even someone like me could succeed!

Eventually and with abundant good luck.

Some time later we arrived, finally. I lost track of how long we were on that bloody train in the end but towards the end the whole romantic appeal of rail travel was starting to wear a little thin for me, personally. I’d slept most of the latter part of the journey away so how long it took in the end was a mystery to me, and a mystery I would like to keep.

Almost as soon as Twilight had set hooves to platform she was the centre of frenzied attention, much to her obvious and immediate confusion and discomfort. It appeared to be a thick blend of well-wishes, officials, guards and others all whirling together to surround the poor girl even as she struggled just to try and leave the station.

I, for once, found myself entirely ignored. Quite refreshing.

Well, almost entirely. I bumped into a happily smiling pony and nearly tripped. He kept on smiling at me.

“This way, sir,” he said.

Oh how I loathed being called sir…

Suppose that wasn’t really the primary issue here, though. The primary issue was me being very confused. I pointed after Twilight, who was still being mobbed and was still a little distance away up the platform.

“Uh, are you sure? I thought I was meant to follow-”

“Princess Twilight shall be travelling separately,” they said.

And ah, they’d said ‘Princess’. Sounds official. Probably some weirdo tradition thing, probably. Can’t even escape it on an informal visit! Twilight’ll probably hate it, poor girl. Still, she can vent to me about it later, no doubt. We’ll all look back on this and laugh!

“Alright, you’re the boss, lead on.”

“Excellent, sir,” said the pony, leading on.

There was another, deserted route out from the station - though, presumably, any route without Twilight on it would be deserted at that moment - and we went that way, coming to a carriage, of all things. Was he going to pull it himself?

Something oddly perverse about a pony-drawn carriage. Or was that just me?

The thing was certainly pony-sized, too, and me getting in was a squeeze. Head wedged up against the ceiling I didn’t exactly enjoy the best view of straight down at the road. Quality roads, to be sure, but there’s only so much I could do with that.

Once I was in there was a brief period of buckling up from the outside and off we’d gone.

The coach ride itself was, as said, cramped. Could kind of seen that coming. Bumpy, too. Suspension plainly something that happened to other people. Times like that you really noticed when you had your head hard up against something. Ow.

Still, could have been worse I’m sure, and at least it wasn’t too long of a journey. We’d stopped before I’d even had time to get a proper crick in the neck, so that was nice.

Wherever we’d stopped seemed to be inside or at least partially inside. Not that it mattered much. Door opened, I staggered out and the same pony from before appeared with that same smile to give me a brief, unnecessary bow and then lead the way. I followed. Not a whole lot else I could do.

I hoped Twilight was having a more comfortable time of things. Kind of hoped that the worst of the adoring throngs had been properly kept at bay so she could actually just get to where she needed to be. From the looks of things she’d had a proper honour guard on arrival! Was that normal around here? Very fancy. Not a whole lot of use against that mob, apparently though.

Meh. I’m sure it’ll all work out. Couple of hours from now it’ll all have straightened out.

Wonder what’s for dinner…

I was not really paying a whole lot of attention to where I was going, to be honest, or to the decor, mostly as there wasn’t a whole lot of decour. Just some sconces - glowing magic ones! - and that was about it. And corridors. Just one, corridor before too long, and it was along this that the pony led me. Long fucking way!

Down this corridor and around this corner and up these stairs and down this other corridor - yeesh. A merry trail I was being led on and no mistake. This the back entrance?

Eventually - thank buggery - we seemed to arrive at where we were meant to. Or at the least we stopped and there was a door. The pony looked very pleased with himself.

“Here we are, sir,” he said.

“Where we are? Where are we?” I asked.

“Our destination, sir. Just through the door.”

That was vague. Still, at least we were somewhere. I pointed to the door, as though he could have been talking about any other door. Paid to be sure about these things.

“Just through here?” I asked.

The pony nodded, still smiling that same smile he;d been smiling the whole damn way here.

“Yes sir.”

Weird setup they got up North, let me tell you.

“Well. Alright then. Um, thank you.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

And with that they bowed, turned, and left. I watched them go, clip-clopping their way back the way we’d come - the only way to go! - and disappearing from sight before too long. The sound of them leaving continued for a bit, but then the sound just seemed to get swallowed up, and I was on my own.

With a door. In the gloom. Those magic sconces weren’t the brightest things around, and the lack of windows wasn’t helping either.

When had the windows stopped, by the way? When was the last time I’d seen one? Oppressive style.

“You know, a more paranoid man would start getting misgivings at this point,” I said, abjectly refusing to have misgivings. Not for me such anxious wrangling. I mean, what could happen, really? This was a technicolour parade of ever-lovely locals and general frivolity. Life of riley, remember?

Nothing to worry about.

On this sunny, optimistic note I opened the door. What I found on the other side was not quite what I’d expected.

What had I expected? Not sure. But something more than what I’d got. An entranceway to a proper castle, perhaps? Twilight waiting and wondering what had taken me so long? This much-rumoured Cadence I’d heard so much about? Something along those lines.

Instead, I got what appeared to be just...a room. And not even a particularly big one. Just a room. Circular, broadly speaking, with perhaps two windows - presently shuttered - table and chairs, bed...just a room.

“Huh,” I said, entering. Entering through the one door the room had, I should also point out, which swung shut behind me. Weighted so, I’d suppose.

Was this where I was staying? Felt a bit out of the way, what with the long walk around the houses to get there. And the long, long corridor that led only to here! Would I have to go all that way for breakfast every day? That seemed like a lot of work with my leg, I have to say.

Maybe that’s just how they do things here?

“At least there’s an ensuite,” I said to myself, spotting this and feeling the tiniest bit better. No long walks for the bathroom was a plus point, certainly.

There was the strangest itching between my shoulderblades by then, coupled with the hairs rising on the back of my neck. That’d be that paranoia again. No, no, not listening to you. I’m sure this is all fine. Probably just how they do things up here. Odd, sure, but I’ve seen worse. The furniture looks robust and once those shutters are open I’m sure the view is a lovely view of, ah, something.

I went over to try the shutters but found them resistant to me opening them. Not locked, just not wanting to open. Weird. Probably magic. Always with the magic.

Behind me, I heard someone clear their throat. That made me jump.

Managing to not drop my stick out of surprise I turned around and found, sitting on the bed, a surprisingly large, black-coated unicorn. Quite the fearsome specimen, too, at least going by my limited experience.

Had I heard the door open? Didn’t think I had. Must have been too focused on the shutters.

“Hello,” said this new unicorn, in a voice that suggested this was someone who knew what was up and that if what they wanted wasn’t up they could soon make it up. She also had the kind of smile that suggested she’d never encountered any difficulty in knowing what was up at any point in her life.

If you follow. A lady in control.

I gave her the once-over, just to double-check. No wings? No wings. Not an alicorn, then. Wasn’t Cadence meant to be an alicorn? Pretty sure Twilight had mentioned that.

“You don’t look like a Cadence,” I said.

Her tail - also black, though kind of with some grey streaks I guess? - gave a flick at this and that smile of hers didn’t so much widen as deepen.

“There’s a reason for that,” she said.

This cleared up nothing.

A touch of evil

Author's Note

I'd say this was getting self-indulgent but that would imply it ever wasn't.

A touch of evil

She definitely wasn’t a fancy-pants alicorn, this I could confirm. Not even tiny wings. She was most certainly a regular unicorn, as far as one of those can be regular. She was big though. At least as big as Celestia if not a little bigger. I could tell that even with her on the bed.

Why was she on the bed, exactly? Was that her bed? Was this her room? I must say this whole thing was going right over my head.

Was Beadle about?

Actually, looking at her, she was definitely bigger - taller, I’d say, if only by a hair, along with just being more. Thicker in the everything. Had more of a presence. The way she was looking at me kind of made me want to take a step back, though.

That her eyes were a solid, dark red probably had a lot to do with this.

“Don’t be shy. We can hardly talk if you stand all the way over there,” she said.

I was, indeed, still standing all the way over there. ‘Over there’ being by the shutters across the room, some distance from the bed. I felt pretty comfortable there, if only because I still had no real grasp of what was happening.

“Here is good,” I said, resting my stick in front of me and putting both hands on it. Powerstance, baby, makes needing the thing worthwhile. “I must say this trip isn’t kicking off the way I expected.”

She cocked an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

“Well the getting here was fine, that part I could handle. Just took a while. But arriving has been a whirlwind of confusing activity. I’ve been quite turned about.”

“You poor thing.”

She said this, but the way she said it made me think that maybe she wasn’t being entirely sincere with me. Fair play, lady. No-one likes a complainer.

“Well, things could always be worse,” I said. She just nodded.

An awkward silence.

“Do you not know who I am?” She asked eventually, thankfully. I hadn’t been sure what else I could have said, really.

I squinted at her. This didn’t help me in any way, shape or form. She remained an enigma to me. A striking enigma and one unlike any enigma I’d clapped eyes on up until this point, sure, but an enigma all the same. Didn’t know her from Adam. Or Eve, I guess.

Ooh, I’m remembering more human names without getting a splitting headache! That’s a good sign, right?

“Should I?” I asked.

Again with that smile. A lot of smiling, recently! Though while the guy who’d lead me here had had a kind of real distant, fixed-in-place affair this one was definitely all natural. Though, despite me being an avowed fan of such things, this one just kind of put me on edge.

Felt like I was late to a punchline.

“Most would have an inkling. It’s rather refreshing, your ignorance. I rather like it.”

Thanks?

“Glad I could be of some use to someone. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to know where Twilight is, would you? Or when she might be available? I’m not sure how all this is supposed to be working.”

“I’m getting that impression. I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you. Everything is proceeding as it should.”

Was she trying to sound sinister? If so she was doing a pretty good job.

“You really should come closer. Conducting a conversation across a room is hardly ideal.”

Her horn glowed then, and I was yanked forward before I could even consider moving. The experience was an odd one and not what I would describe as comfortable, given I was held ramrod straight as I was yanked, coming to a sudden, jarring halt perhaps a foot or three away from her, just above ground-level and hovering.

This was apparently amusing, as she chuckled. Maybe it was funnier from where she was sitting. To be fair the visual had probably been pretty good.

And from up close I could say that she was definitely bigger than Celestia. This I could confirm.

Celestia and me were roughly the same height, with me being, as I shall never tired of pointing out, technically the taller one because I came out maybe an inch or two higher and her horn didn’t count. Just to confirm.

We’d argued about the horn but I was definitely right. It didn’t count. I was taller. Definitely!

This unicorn lady though would clearly be topping out over me if she stood up, this I could see. A unique experience in Equestria so far, I must admit, and a little unsettling to even consider. Big horse!

Also, closer, I could see that her eyes weren’t actually entirely red, just so red that her pupils had initially been difficult to make out. This didn’t improve things for me, much, especially given that they appeared to be slits. Figure that one out.

“Hi,” I said.

She didn’t say anything to this immediately, instead shuffling back a little on the large - and needlessly luxurious looking, I must say - bed and patting the vacant half of it with a hoof. Even her horseshoes were scary! Was that, like, Chaos Dwarf level dark iron or something?

“Sit, please. You don’t look comfortable,” she said, setting me back down as her magic flicked off. Wish I had magic. Though, if I did, would using it kill me? Bah, that’s just not fair.

At an outside guess I figured that getting closer to this horse lady was unlikely to make me any more comfortable, fancy bed or not. But staying standing also kind of seemed a very good way of getting particularly uncomfortable real quick. Just something in her tone.

That and, you know, I got a dud leg. I’ll take any chance to sit down, me. So I did, just perching on the edge, sideways onto her.

“Nice place you got here,” I said.

“That’s very kind of you to say. I am not as I once was, but I try my best.”

Okay, look. Even I can tell when everyone else is in on the joke and I’m not. I can only live in blissful ignorance for so long. At some point, even I can only take so much. I had to at least look as if I cared what was happening.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” I said.

“I feel you may be right.”

Bah, now she’s playing silly buggers with me.

“No clues?”

“Oh, where would be the fun in that? If you really can’t guess I’ll tell you.”

“I’ve never been one for guessing, my mind just sort of goes blank. And in case it wasn’t obvious I’m not from around here, not really that familiar with who’s-who.”

She gave me a look. Again, those red eyes were maybe a little unsettling. Ain’t seen anyone with eyes like that so far. I felt like I was being read.

“You really don’t have a clue, do you?”

“Think we established that. Sorry, I’ve never been that on the ball and that was before I somehow ended up here. Here generally, I mean. Not in this room. Though being in this room is in itself a confusing experience.”

I was babbling because I was increasingly tense, not helped by her moving in a little closer across the bed.

“Umbra. My name is Umbra.”

Umbra? That name rang a bell.

You know, it sounded an awful lot like that queen, didn’t it? The big, nasty evil one?

But that would be - no! No, ridiculous. Far too contrived.

“I can see you’re second guessing yourself. You shouldn’t,” she said. “Would ‘Queen Umbra’ help narrow it down for you?”

Well, yeah, it would.

“Really? That Umbra?” I asked and she inclined her head, just a notch.

“There are no others.”

Seriously? I said this before but Beadle had to be about, didn’t he? At what point did everyone come in and start pointing out the cameras? This was ludicrous. I thought - and my limited research on the subject really kind of suggested that meetups with ancient, notoriously evil monarchs should take place in grand arenas with much magical pyrotechnics and possibly even dramatic music. At least a smoke machine.

Not, you know, in some weird room somewhere. On a bed.

Should probably point out that when I keep referring to my ‘research’ I am referring to a potent combination of asking Twilight and occasionally referencing books for children, which I read slowly whenever I’m not trying to decipher the pictures for deeper meaning

Hey! I’m getting there! Leave me alone!

“I think I heard you mentioned. Weren’t you defeated? Twice?” I asked.

For a second I got a real, real good impression that I’d said precisely the wrong thing. Her expression didn’t change much but I just got this sudden, overwhelming feeling that I’d made a horrible mistake in mentioning this.

Only for a second though. It passed through me like a shiver.

“Oh, I was,” she said breezily, as though it wasn’t something worth getting worked up over. “If one can define suffering a minor setback as a defeat, which I suppose some might. Personally, I am not so naive to think that the road to total domination wouldn’t come without a few bumps. They’ll all be behind me one day, and none of this will matter. All of this...indignity…will be forgotten. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Good for you?” I said. Not sure what else I could say to that, really. ‘Total domination’ is kind of a conversation killer.

Again, what I knew about her wasn’t exactly positive. Kind of difficult reconciling what I’d heard with what I was hearing. I’d expected brutal tyrant. I was getting, uh, well I was getting uncomfortable. But I wasn’t dead, so that was a plus?

Man, this was serious, wasn’t it?

“It will be, though not just for me, of course. It’ll be good for everypony, even if some have difficulty grasping that at the moment. They’ll come around, or they won’t be around. One way or the other,” she said.

And she smiled again, and the smile lacked warmth.

“Having goals is healthy,” I said, again at a loss and not feeling comfortable enough to just let silence settle down.

“And what are your goals?” She asked me, leaning forward.

Well that caught me off-guard.

“Uh, I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I said and she laughed, lightly.

Small talk?! With evil queen?

Had I died at some point and not noticed? Was I asleep on the train? Oh! That was it! Jeremy Beadle wasn’t the one I had to worry about, it was Luna! Lurking someone, laughing it up at me, I was sure of it.

Nothing seemed to change though, and no Luna appeared.

Well, let’s just continue as though we’re waiting for the beat to kick in, as it were.

“So...this how you spend your time now?”

Again that fleeting, brief feeling that I was sailing dangerously close to the wind. It was kind of like that feeling you get when you lean too far back in a chair? Not a fan.

From the outside everything looked fine, she didn’t look annoyed, but from where I was sitting I felt for possibly the first time in my life that I might actually have to start thinking about what I was saying.

First time for everything...

“I spend my time wisely and everything is - as I said - proceeding as it should. That doesn’t mean there aren’t periods of downtime, however, and quiet periods when I am waiting for the actions of others to play out. How I choose to fill that time is up to me,” she said, waving a hoof and speaking breezily.

“Would now be one of those times?” I asked.

“Now would be one of those times.”

Okay. Am I putting anything together here? Not really.

Time to be bold? I licked my lips, which were rather more dry than I remembered them being some minutes before.

“You know, for someone who got defeated you’re looking remarkably healthy,” I said.

Her tail flicked on that one and I involuntarily shuffled a bit further away from her, very close now to just falling off the bed. This she noticed and, with another little tinkling of magic, I was hauled closer.

“Defeat is not absolute, not if one prepares correctly for possible setbacks. If one thinks only in terms of short term successes and failures and assumes that one or the other means that the work is done, then they are a fool.”

“Okay?”

Presumably if I was an evil queen this would make more sense to me. Like with Cheerilee and her teaching stuff. Just not my wheelhouse. By a long shot.

“I am aware that it’s assumed I have been dealt with. This is useful, actually, for me. Such complacency speaks very poorly of everyone else though, don’t you think? As though there wouldn’t have been contingencies. Failing to prepare is preparing to fail, and I do not fail. I succeed on my own timescale.”

I had no idea what this scary looking horse woman was talking about but it sounded very serious so I just nodded. Whether or not she’d been expecting more from me I couldn’t really tell, and she just looked at me for a moment before blinking, smiling, and changing her tone completely. It was uncanny.

“But enough about me, I know all about me. Let’s talk about you. You are a unique specimen, aren’t you?”

Never been called a specimen before, to the best of my knowledge. Not sure how I felt about that.

“Um, technically yes, I suppose. At least here.”

She grinned briefly and I could have sworn her teeth were pointed. Probably my imagination.

“How fascinating,” she said, leaning in closer towards me.

A problem with ponies, I’d found, was that they were sometimes a little difficult to take seriously. I tried, I really did, because they were, you know, sapient beings worthy of respect and consideration. But I’d spent my whole life dealing with people who weren’t brightly coloured in a land of wonder, even if I couldn’t remember the other people in question. I just had a sense that they hadn’t even been quite so vibrant and nowhere near as cute.

Which meant that, then, I was torn between continuing to feel strangely intimidated by this unicorn lady - on account of her being so big and having such scary eyes and also just being so worrying in a hard-to-define sort of a way and also being, you know, AN EVIL QUEEN - and also not feeling intimidated because she was still a squishy horse.

This place, man. I’m at sixes and sevens.

“That might depend on your standards for fascinating,” I said, to which she giggled. An actual giggle! Didn’t seem to fit her at all. Nice, sure, but just out of nowhere. That seemed a bit much for me, given what I’d said, but who was I to judge?

“Yes, I suppose it might. Let me clarify, then, and say that it’s quite fascinating by my standards, which is noteworthy,” she said.

“It is?”

“Of course it is. I am a queen, after all.”

I cast an eye towards the door. Leaving seemed like a great idea to me. Maybe going and getting someone? Telling them that that evil queen they’d been so happy to see the back of was, you know, just hanging around? Maybe they should get on that?

Doubted I’d get far though. I can’t move that quick and, also, she’d just pick me up with her magic brain. Which is cheating but there wasn’t a lot I could do about it.

Just pick my moment, I guess. Play for time, yo.

“Why am I even here? How did you even know about me?” I asked, just to switch things up.

Shouldn’t she have better things to be worrying about? I mean I know she said about the whole ‘having lots of things on the go’ and ‘downtime’ stuff but really, this seemed beneath her.

“I know an awful lot of things, and certainly I know most of what happens in Equestria. It pays to be in the know, and so I have my eyes and my ears everywhere,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yes. Most aren’t even aware of it or the part they play in it, but I do. I wouldn’t worry about that, if I were you.”

Yeah. Sure. Easy to not worry about that.

She must practise sounding this sinister and unnerving. Must be part of the evil queen lifestyle. Probably also advised on those evil horseshoes, too. You don’t really see those sort of things for sale.

Dark iron horseshoes, protect hooves, hurt others. Ahaha.

Umbra gave me a particularly broad smile, which wasn’t reassuring, and then continued:

“So I hear a lot of what goes on. Most of it is tedious, but in the middle of that one day word came to me that Celestia was associating with something quite unique - something which, if rumours were to be believed, is from an entirely different world! Well, that sort of thing piques my interest. And imagine my delight when I hear that Celestia’s interesting pet is travelling up to my end of the world! Unaccompanied, no less. I could hardly pass up such an opportunity.”

Pet indeed. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me, lady, I know you are. Well I’m not falling for it! I’m a big boy.

“Yeah and she lets me off the leash and this happens, what are the odds? And I came up here with Twilight, you know, not alone.”

Umbra tutted and looked away, checking her hoof. Still shod in evil dark iron, but apparently dusty as she blew some off.

“Yes. Her. Well, her on her own isn’t a particular concern but the situation is being monitored,” she said.

“By your eyes and ears?”

Another smile, wider this time. She was all smiles this lady.

“Indeed.”

“Well, that’s how you know about me but that’s still kind of begging the question of why I’m right here, right now. In this room. What is this room, anyway?”

“Just a little place that’s tucked out of the way. I have several. This is one of the comfier ones, seeing as you’ll be staying here for a little while,” she said, somehow managing to pick at a loose thread on the duvet with her hoof, frowning at it.

That gave me a jolt. Not the thread, what she’d said.

“Ah, heh, what?”

“Not for too long. Well, I suppose actually that’ll be up to you. But not forever, certainly. Just a little while.”

Probably should have figured that out on my own to be honest. Kind of already had, just hadn’t fully grasped it. Oh this wasn’t good, was it?

Surely she had better things she could be doing?!

“Ah, ahaha, that’s - not a huge fan of that, uh, Umbra. Don’t suppose you’d be open to just letting me go if I asked nicely?” I asked. Worth a punt.

She gave a shockingly convincing display of looking as though this hadn’t occurred to her as an option. I almost bought it. She brought a hoof up to her mouth in what appeared to be honest surprise.

“Oh you’d have to ask very, very nicely.”

I swallowed. What was a person supposed to do in a situation like this?

What did I remember about kidnappings? Rule one! No routine. Wait, that didn’t apply, little too late. Uh, rule two! Never let them get you to where they’re trying to get you. And I’d walked here myself. Shit. Too late for that, too.

Just make something up!

“Not to toot my own horn or anything but so, you know, so you know, Celestia kind of likes me a little bit so there is the possibility that she might try to work out where I’ve ended up? Assuming anyone even notices I’m missing, obviously,” I said, working an angle made up on the spot.

Worth a shot, right?

Presumably, noticing that I was gone might take them a little while, at least. But once they did figure out that I wasn’t just lost, what then? Look around for me, fail to find me because I was being hidden. Then what? At what point did Twilight actually tell Celestia, and when that happened, what did that even mean?

I had no idea. None of it was great to consider though.

Was this actually happening?!

Umbra did not seem too concerned anyway.

“She may well come looking for you, yes. In fact it seems likely that she will before too long. But what is life without a little risk, hmm? And, what’s more, perhaps this is what I wanted to happen. Perhaps you’re serving as bait? Does that sound likely to you?”

That didn’t sound good. I felt I should say something but she spoke first and cut me off before I even got started.

“Ah, but I think it would be for the best - for you - not to dwell on my motives. You probably wouldn’t understand them anyway, and they wouldn’t do you any good even if you did. One doesn’t need to understand a situation to be in it, after all.”

She grinned again and this time I got a very good view of those very definitely sharp teeth. Damn lady had fangs. What does a magical horse need with pointy teeth anyway?

“For biting things,” she said, eyes flashing. Literally flashing.

Well that answers that.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

The grin got wider.

Oh no.

“Oh yes.”

Hideous destructor

Author's Note

You'll either like it or you won't.

Hideous destructor

“You...you…?” I said, not really able to find the words, my brain just churning mud and spinning its wheels, as it were, struggling to gain purchase. Like one of those Russian trucks in the Summer. Which I somehow remembered? Nice imagery, I must admit.

And she’s still just looking at me with those bright red eyes, still grinning with those pointy, pointy teeth. The ones for biting.

Okay, be calm. She can read minds, apparently?

Maybe confirm that.

What if I just walked up and flicked your nose, lady? What’d you make of that?

Nothing. She just kept smirking at me. But that didn’t mean anything. She could just be seeing that I was trying to confirm, and so playing it cool. How would I know? Fuck.

I swallowed.

“You mean all the - how much did you - how long…?” I asked, not really sure how best to sum up my feelings and question on the matter. Her grin really didn’t help. At the very least, she got what I was driving at.

“Most of what you’ve been thinking since you entered the room. You do think rather a lot, don’t you?” She said.

I would have thought most people think quite a lot. Kind of just running in the background all the time, I would have thought.

“You would be surprised,” she said.

“Stop doing that!”

I stood up. I wasn’t standing for this. Well, I was, but not like that. Thankfully Umbra didn’t make any moves to stop me or, indeed, any moves at all. She just stayed on the bed while I stumped over to the door.

The door was, obviously, locked. Or at least unyielding. I gave it a proper tugging but got no results. Shouldn’t have been surprised but I wasn’t going to just sit there and let her...do...that…

“Any luck?”

Gah!

Turning, I find Umbra stood barely two feet away, doing her best to peer curiously over my shoulder. She was, I noted with sourness, about my height. Big lady. Normally I’d quite like that for a change of pace but right then not so much.

“Could you maybe just back up a little bit there, please?”

She did not back up. Instead, she got closer. Maybe about a foot apart now.

“Does me coming closer really make you so uncomfortable?”

“I’d say I’m finding the situation generally uncomfortable.”

She laughed at this and nuzzled me which...I did not expect.

“I understand,” she said. “This must all be rather confusing to you. It’s why I said you shouldn’t worry about it. Just be in the moment, hmm? I think things will be a lot easier for you if you just think about that. It’s not so bad, is it?”

What was happening.

Thankfully she stepped back, then, though still not perhaps as far as I would have liked. Ideally, I would have liked her to have stepped all the way across the room. And also the door to be open. And me to be back in Ponyville. Or, better, Canterlot. Me in the bed with Celestia with all of this a distant memory or just some fevered dream I had and was very quickly forgetting and nothing something right in front of me that was something I had to deal with but couldn’t deal with because how do you deal with something like this?

Yes, that would work great actually can we make that happen?

“Worrying doesn’t suit you. Also, I would not go so far as to say I was ‘squishy’, as you put it before,” she said, giving her side a prod.

Eep.

“Caught that bit, did you?”

“Yes.”

Well at least she doesn’t look too upset about that…

Wait, was she changing the subject? She was! She did!

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she wants you all turned around. I’m getting that impression. Or am I getting that impression just because I am turned around because I think I’m starting to maybe panic a little bit?

Well that’s no good. And she’s got that smile again. She knows! She knows!

Just, fucking, tamp it down, son. Don’t freak out. And don’t think about not freaking out. Don’t think about anything! Because she’ll know! She knows right now! She’s looking at you right now! She’s doing the smirk again because she knows what you’re thinking!

Just calm down!

I did my best. Took a breath.

“I’m, uh, getting the impression that I’m not really in any position to make demands but I’d prefer you not, ah, read my mind. It is putting me on edge.”

Might as well be direct, right? Wait, she’ll hear that...

“I did hear that, yes. I imagine you find the experience new and there might be some adjustment as you get used to it, but you’re just so interesting.”

She reached up and I held very still as she kind of just ran one of those iron-shod hooves over my head. Gently, agreeably, but still.

“Your mind is different to those I’m used to, not to mention shall we say - ah - damaged? Fractured might be a better way of putting it. The pieces do not fit as neatly as they once likely did, though they work cohesively. It makes you rather difficult to read, compared to most. Very interesting,” she said, starting to circle me. Classic villain move, that. Her moving between me and the door did a very good job of herding me back towards the middle of the room.

“Don’t I feel special…”

“You should! Most I can read like a book. Everything so obvious, everything out there, very dull after a while. You? Only the surface, and even then not consistently. A lot I have to piece together. It’s quite...intriguing. Different. Makes you interesting, as I say. Another point of uniqueness. Rather a large one in my opinion. Which counts for a lot.”

‘Interesting’ has a poor habit of not always meaning ‘good’.

“Oh, when you’ve been around as long as I have you’d agree that interesting was always good.”

Fuck! Not again! I can’t run two conversations at once!

“Could you please stop doing that?” I asked, rubbing my temples. Was it my imagination or was I getting a headache?

“You’re a lot less polite inside your head, you know that? One wonders what other things you think but don’t give voice to…maybe a little deeper…?”

Deeper? What-

Okay, that’s a headache ow ow fucking ow really a lot like a stabbing pain right there right inside my skull fucking OW.

“Hmm, best not to do that again, wouldn’t we say?”

Somehow I’d ended up on my knees and clutching my head. Not sure how. Hadn’t noticed it happening, but there you go. Dropped my stick, too. Tried to pick it up but my hand was shaking too badly and I fumbled it. My other hand was better though.

Umbra did not offer me any help in standing back up again, in stark contrast to just about everyone else who ever saw me struggling back to my feet. Actually I didn’t mind that, but I did kind of think she was withholding help on purpose.

“No, I just know you prefer to do it on your own. It’s obvious.”

I gritted my teeth. Definitely a headache. A real low-key constant throbbing one.

“Thank you,” I said.

Really, really not a fan of that. Couldn’t see myself getting used to it either.

“Perhaps you should think more quietly, if you did not want your thoughts overheard,” she said as I staggered back to the bed, resigned to sitting on it because I sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Slumping, I hissed and squeezed my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Thinking quietly?

“I - is that even possible?” I asked.

“Certainly. I could teach you, if you’d like.”

She sounded serious saying this, but surely she wasn’t, surely? Why would you blithely lounge around just skimming across the surface of someone’s mind - even after being told to stop - and also offer lessons in avoiding that sort of thing? Was this a brand of horse-logic I hadn’t encountered yet?

“...you’d teach me to think more quietly...something I’d rather like to learn to do so that you specifically stop reading my mind?”

“Yes.”

“...uh…”

I really felt I was missing something here.

She shrugged, checked one of her hooves. Definitely a habit of hers.

And one she has now cottoned onto because once I noticed this she put her hoof down. Argh. Argh I hate this! Stop it!

“An offer to teach you doesn’t guarantee that you’ll demonstrate particular aptitude for it. Even with myself for a teacher I don’t imagine you’d grasp anything beyond the rudiments, though it would be very fun to watch you try, I imagine. I expect it to be adorable.”

“...I really can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”

“Oh, I’d never do that. Our relationship is to be built on foundations of honesty. Healthier that way, don’t you think?”

Again I got the real, real strong impression I was missing something very big here!

“Relationship?”

“We are two individuals, are we not? Individuals who interact have a relationship, a way they relate to one another, an attitude that colours this interaction. Yes?” She said, slowly.

I hope Umbra can see how unimpressed I am at having the definition of a relationship explained to me. Judging by the smile I am going to guess yes, she can.

“Presumably you were more curious about what I intend the nature of our relationship to be,” she said.

“Yes. Thank you. Can it be long distance? Very long distance?”

Maybe a continent’s distance? An ocean if you have one going spare? And a lot of very thick walls if at all possible?

“Hah. Humour. Very good. But I’m afraid I’d rather have you within hoofs reach, if at all possible.”

Great.

“The reason being…?”

Umbra took a breath to explain and then clearly thought it would be better if she was sitting down as she got back up on the bed alongside me, perhaps a little closer than I would have liked but at least not actually touching me this time.

Settling herself she said:

“Well, I’ve heard - through my eyes and ears - that Celestia’s mood has improved considerably since you appeared. She seems to be in far higher spirits. Enjoying life, you might say. It’s often these strange, seemingly pointless, intangible things that can have this effect, you know? Some might dismiss them as useless wastes of time but very little in life is useless. It’s all just a question of knowing where everything has its place. Like, for example, the proper place for a distraction.”

What.

“Celestia’s life seems to have improved with the introduction of a nice little distraction - you. And I thought, well, if it can work for her, why not me? My work is considerably more strenuous than hers, don’t I also deserve to enjoy my life? Live in the now? Have a pleasant distraction to brighten my days? Why should she have all the fun?”

Again, what.

At this point she moved closer and closed the distance between us so she was sat flush against me. Sigh. Too good to last. I remember when I had personal space.

Wait, I scratch ponies behind the ears all the time. Is this what they-

“I’d rather like my own unique distraction. For when I’m not busy elsewhere, you see? One can’t work all the time, and so much that is around already to pass that idle time is, well, boring. Tedious. Ordinary? Something unique, though? Well, that’s valuable, isn’t it? Has a value all its own. Adds something. Celestia could tell you.”

“So I’m a hobby?” I asked and she put what I assumed was meant to be a comforting hoof onto my leg. My bad leg, I should point out.

“That’s a very uncharitable way of looking at it. You are to be...a companion.”

“Cracking.”

The idea and picture in my head that I was getting was of someone seeing someone else with a pet, being jealous, and stealing that pet and then wanting that pet to be grateful about it.

Again that word ‘pet’. Fucking hell. Hadn’t Luna called me that once? This is great, honestly.

Maybe I should try the door again.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. It was amusing the first time but my patience is not limitless. And ‘pet’ is also an uncharitable word, though a fitting one, I’d think. How do you see yourself and Celestia?”

“A partnership of equals,” I said.

That got a laugh out of her. Which was something at least? Though I suppose in life there are times and places you really don’t want a laugh to be. This was probably one of them.

“Oh, that’s precious. I can see you believe it, too.”

“I do, yes, thank you. And I think I’m in a better position to judge it than you.”

Any lingering traces of that laughter vanished immediately and, again, I got that tipping-back-in-the-seat feeling. Kind of difficult to care quite as much at this point though because my head was fucking killing me. Kind of cut into my caution.

“I’m guessing any sort of companion for you wouldn’t get to enjoy that particular arrangement?” I asked.

Her hoof withdrew and she fixed me with those red eyes of hers.

“A queen has no equals.”

Well. Not a lot of wiggle room on that one.

She kept the stare up a moment or two longer and then sighed, slipping from the bed and stepping in place so she was facing me.

“I’d rather not have this start off on the wrong, ah, foot, is it? Let’s perhaps relax for now. I shall give you some time to cool off and settle in. And you must be hungry, yes? Long journey. I will have some food brought for you.”

“By the smiley guy who got me here?”

Some glimmer of amusement returned to her then. Which was something. Didn’t really like the dead-serious-I-could-kill-you-by-looking-at-you look she had been giving me before.

“Him, or another of the hoofful of loyal and dutiful servants I have managed to retain, yes.”

“He seemed to be in remarkably high spirits.”

“There is a happiness that comes from accepting ones’ place. A place for everything, you see? And everything in its place.”

Who talks like that?

“Are you trying to fuck with me with all this?”

Expected another of those icy moments where it felt like I might have gone too far, but instead she just smiled a little bit.

You know as far as smiles went it wasn’t bad, it was just - no! Not the time! What the hell is wrong with you?!

Oh God now it’s wider!

“Maybe. Maybe not. As you get to know me better maybe you’ll be able to work it out on your own,” she said, leaving.

I fell backwards to stare at the ceiling and nurse my headache and try to understand at what point this had all started going downhill. Even though I could already kind of guess.

Don’t take rides with strangers, John!

Lunge to the maximum

Author's Note

More.

Lunge to the maximum

With Umbra gone the headache receded. That was about the only good thing.

I did try the door again because I would have been an idiot not to but, surprise surprise, no dice. Couldn’t even find anything lying around that I could conceivably use to force it. Not that that would likely have got me anywhere either.

This was one of those super-hefty thick-oak-and-iron type doors of the sort to keep burly men with swords on one side and you safely on the other. Didn’t seem likely that janky-legged, shaky-handed John would make much headway against it.

Just at an outside guess.

There wasn’t a whole lot else around for me to fiddle with. The room would be sparsely furnished, if I had to pick a word. Like someone had been ticking boxes on what someone might need for a room they’d be in for a while. Bed, table, chairs, bigger, comfier chair. Nothing interesting. I knocked the chair at the table over in a fit of pique and then felt bad because the chair hadn’t done anything wrong to me. So I righted it again.

Tried the shutters another time. Quite unexpectedly one of them actually opened, much to my surprise. Not that this improved anything. Turned out the windows they were attached to offered me a fabulous view of a snow-choked wilderness extending out until the horizon. The horizon was mountains.

Had we really gone that far? I don’t remember the trip being that long. Surely!

I stuck my head out the window to get a better look, though this turned out not to be a good idea. Whatever was keeping the cold out and the heat in - magic, I assumed - was permeable and when my head was outside it got to enjoy the full-on arctic treatment. Cold outside!

From the looks of things I was in a tower. The top of a tower. Not a very tall tower, but a tower all the same. I could see the bottom with all drifts of snow piled up around it and I could see, well, that was about it. Some sort of overhang above. And that was it.

Me in a tower. Oh God, was I in distress? I think I was!

Also: how the hell was in the top of anything? Let alone a tower! Sure I’d climbed some stairs but nowhere near enough to justify where I was now. Where had all those corridors been? Wouldn’t a tower have required a certain amount of walking around in a circle for a bit?

Probably magic. Again. Fucking magic.

Further rumination and frustration was forestalled by the appearance of another of Umbra’s cheerful servants, this one a lady. She came bearing food.

She had a tray balanced on her back on which was - I’ll admit - a pretty reasonable spread. Bread. Some weird looking berries. Some cheese. Etcetera. Can’t complain about any of that. The servant trotted over to the table and transferred the tray.

You know, I don’t like thinking of people as servants. Maybe it’s me.

“Thanks. Enjoy your work?” I asked her.

Whether she heard me or even understood me was not obvious. Couldn’t tell from her expression, certainly. Just the same fixed look of utter contentment. Creepy, man. Maybe Umbra enjoyed that sort of thing.

Now that was a worrying thought…

Not that it mattered much because she turned and left without a word.

I did try to follow her out through the door but that didn’t work out. She slipped through and then it snapped shut so quick I probably would have lost a finger had I been maybe just that bit quicker to try and hold it open. Bah.

Just me and the food, then.

Call me crazy, but I didn’t entirely trust the food.

Hobbling over I gave the berries a poke and the little pile of them collapsed a bit, but that was about it. Everything else just continued to sit there looking benign. Well it would, wouldn’t it?

On the one hand I was exceedingly hungry. On the other the sort of person who casually looked inside the heads of other people was not the sort of person I trusted with meal preparation. Hell, in a world without magic I’d be leery about taking anything from someone who’d locked me in a room. In a world with magic? Yeesh.

No, none for me, thanks. Not right now.

I was going to cave before too long. This much was inevitable. But I could at least put it off and stand on the moral high ground for a bit. For what good it might do me.

Getting comfy on top of the bed - not getting into it, not giving it the satisfaction - I laced my hands over my belly and stared angrily at the ceiling. This achieved nothing, so I closed my eyes and tried to doze off.

I failed, as napping was very difficult right then. Brain just kept on chattering away with this or that worry. What was Celestia doing? What was Twilight doing? Had anyone noticed anything yet? Was this actually really honestly happening? I mean really was this actually happening? Things like that.

A lot of it was me still trying to grapple with what was obviously going on. Sure, things like this are always meant to be happening to other people but - as has been pointed out I’m sure - we’re all someone else to someone else, and it’s going to happen to someone…

Still, just seems beneath Umbra to be wasting her time doing something like this.

Maybe there’s an inscrutable purpose behind it all? God, I hope not. That’d just make this even more convoluted.

And my am I hungry. Sigh.

Hope that kid is enjoying their teddy…

Tried to gauge how time was passing by looking ou the window but the sky was just white, which did not help me. Was that an early-morning white, a midday white or a heading-into-evening white? I did not know. It was just white. I closed my eyes.

“You haven’t touched your food.”

Jesus! Where did she come from? Is appearing silently a monarch special ability?!

Lo and behold Umbra was right beside the bed, having apparently just appeared out of the aether the moment I closed my eyes.

“How to appear without warning is a trade secret,” she said. Then, glancing over to the table and the food thereon: “Were you not hungry?”

I am thinking blank thoughts and saying nothing.

“Very good. Not the right technique at all, but it shows the correct attitude. I assume you are afraid I have done something with the food? I haven’t.”

“You’ll forgive me for not taking you at your word,” I said.

“I will, though it still wounds me. Like I said, our relationship is to be built on trust. You trusting me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Really,” I said. Not phrased as a question because, really, why even bother pretending it was a question?

“You think so little of me. And of course not. Why would I? I have no reason to.”

“So you’ll just not tell me anything you don’t think I need to know, rather than lie about it?”

“Exactly! No sense in burdening you with things outside your control. I’m glad you understand. Sharp one, you. I am certainly beginning to see why Celestia enjoys keeping you around.”

“You may be wildly misjudging the nature of my relationship with Celestia.”

“Possible. Not true, but I can see why you’d think so.”

Is it possible to lose a conversation? That’s kind of the feeling I kept on getting whenever I was speaking with Umbra.

“It really would be better if you were to eat something,” she said, apropos of nothing.

Rather than just bringing the tray over she pulled the whole table over. The table was not insignificant. Thing looked like it weighed more than I did, built along the same SOLID-WOOD-AND-IRON lines as the door and, indeed, the rest of the furniture. And she just pulled it on over like anything, setting it down beside the bed just next to her.

I cast an eye at the food, made no moves for any of it, sighed.

“Don’t you have anything better you could be doing?” I asked, again. Felt like an important question to keep raising from time to time.

“Oh, I do, and I am, as I said. Delegation and multi-tasking. Very important skills for a monarch. This is just something that helps me unwind,” she said.

“Nice to know I’m valued,” I said. I made the big decision and crossed my arms. Take that.

“You are! Though I doubt you’d fully appreciate why.”

“That so?”

“I already described you as a distraction and I should say this was not meant as an insult. Something you would know were you ageless is the value of distraction. When time is short it is precious. When it is unlimited? Without value. So what you do with that time becomes far more important. And transitory interests? Always so engaging. That they are fleeting is part of the appeal. If they are unique, all the better…”

She lent in.

“Why else do you think Celestia is so fond of you?”

If she - if you think you’re going to try and get inside my head with that sort of thing you’ve got another thing coming, lady. I’ve been over this before. This isn’t some point of weakness you can just prod and my apparently stalwart facade comes crashing on down. This isn’t something I’m worried about. I know you can hear this.

“Well, yeah, she did kind of say what you said but she was a little less blunt about it. Kind of got the impression from her, too, that she wouldn’t just chuck me out once I’d popped my clogs,” I said.

Which is to say I think that is what you will do, Umbra. I know you can hear this!

“You wound me again.”

She said this but gave no outward sign of being upset - contrived or otherwise - and just kept smiling that damn smile at me, following up with:

“She will, though. What else would she do? Keep you around? Have you stuffed?”

“Fucking yeah she’ll have me stuffed. I’d make a great conversation piece. Real ice breaker. That and I think I’d really pull the room together if you just had me in a corner. Maybe hang a hat off me if you want something practical, too.”

The smile became a little thinner, which was a source of much satisfaction to me.

“Your complete lack of respect is one of your intriguing features. I would say it was endearing, but I feel it is perhaps too strong for that. Hopefully continued contact with me shall see it lessened somewhat and reduced to a more acceptable level.”

I could hardly wait.

The food continued sitting there looking appealing so I turned my face to the window instead and said:

“I actually had a question for you. Assuming you answer those.”

“That would depend on the question,” Umbra said.

“The lady who brought that food - and the chap who got me here in the first place. They seemed very happy. I know you said before something about....a place for everything and all that but, uh, can you just tell me whether you fiddled around inside their heads to get them like that or what?”

This was a concern of mine. I mean, was it too crazy to be concerned that the sort of person who can peer into your head can also put stuff there if they were so inclined? That kind of shit is terrifying. The whole world can be a seething cesspit of nonsense but your head is still your own absolute territory. If that’s not the case? Well, shit. Count me out.

An immediate answer was not forthcoming.

“I would not have put it as indelicately as that, but I suppose you would see it as such. It’s not really the same thing, though. I just helped them realise their place in the scheme of things. It would have happened anyway, eventually. I just helped it along.”

Oh sweet mother of mercy that’s the worst. That got me to look back at her, just to see if maybe I could find a hint that she was joking or pulling my leg. Hint I found there none, only that grin again, and those teeth.

“You, uh, heh, you can’t - you couldn’t do that to me, could you? Would you? Are you?” I asked.

Another pause before answering. This one felt a whole lot longer. I think she might have been doing that deliberately. Are you doing that deliberately?

No response. Fine, fine…

“I am not, no. Could I? Maybe, maybe if I wanted to. It would be somewhat difficult however. Your mind is, as I said, damaged. It is not as easy as others are to access. I imagine that as I gain greater familiarity with it - and you - I shall find you easier to read and would also find you, hypothetically, easier to assist in understanding,” she said, idly, as though talking about perfectly normal stuff.

That’s a euphemism and a fucking half.

I swallowed. Nothing about this was good. Everything that was happening was bad. Just so I could be clear on that.

“You do know that they said any magical poking around had a chance of killing me, yes?” I said. I could remember this. It was kind of important. Kind of why all of the magical poking around in my head had stopped. Might also explain why her attempting to have a ‘deeper’ look had hurt so fucking much.

Thanks for that, by the way.

If Umbra thought any of this was a concern it did not show on her face.

“So I saw. They would say that, clumsy as they no-doubt are. I am not clumsy. I am - as you will learn - subtle and gentle. When I need to be.”

“And when you don’t need to be?”

A much wider grin for that question.

“An overwhelming force.”

Eep.

Maybe let’s move on.

“Yes, let’s. You’re so on edge! You have nothing to fear with me, truly. I only want you to be comfortable. Are you not comfortable? I rather liked that bed, myself. And you really should eat. Go on. Would you feel better if I had some?”

“I would, actually, yes.”

I’m not exactly being overwhelmed with trust here. Kidnapping can do that.

She gave what was obviously an exaggerated, pantomime sigh and brought the bowl of berries over to her waiting hoof. Then, keeping her eyes fixed on mine, she used her tongue to sweep up a good couple of the things into her mouth. She did not chew, only swallowed.

Can one chew, with fangs? Or does one simply tear?

Also, let’s just get back to the bit where she kept rock-solid eye contact while eating fruit using only her tongue. That’s…

That’s a bit much.

“Well I can’t eat those now, you licked them,” I said.

She swept up a couple more.

“More for me, then.”

Still not overwhelmed with confidence. Still not eating anything.

Umbra shrugged.

“Your loss. It’s only for your own good I suggest it. I imagine you’ll come around before too long. You really shouldn’t regard this as captivity, you know.”

“Kind of how I’m seeing it, I’m afraid. Just the way things are shaking out for me. Might have something to do with the kidnapping. And the locked door. And the being in a tower in the middle of nowhere. How did that happen, by the way?”

“Details, unimportant. And it was hardly a kidnapping. You came here without any force involved without intimidation. You were offered a way to go and you followed quite happily.”

Yeah sure. Convincing stuff, lady.

“I’m fairly certain trickery can also count in these things,” I said.

Again she shrugged. I don’t even think she cared if she was convincing or not. Would rather explain her approach to making friends. I got the powerful impression Umbra didn’t give the slightest shade of a fuck about whatever anyone thought of her. Just a feeling.

Normally I’d find that sort of thing rather admirable...

“Only normally? Tsch. But anyway, such things are open to debate. The point remains, it’s a question of attitude. This is not captivity and you would find it far more enjoyable if you did not think of it as such.”

“So I should think of this as...a holiday?”

Another grin.

“If you like. Holidays can be fun, as I understand them - I’ve never had one, myself.”

“Wonders never cease.”

Probably shouldn’t antagonise the evil queen but that headache was coming back…

“Evil is a misleading word used by those who lack strength to label those that do not.”

I am...not even going to bother thinking about that statement. Sure, fine, whatever. I’m just on holiday here what do I know. Whatever you say. I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t. I don’t know anything.

Umbra set the bowl down and put her hoof under my chin to tilt my head up. Power move, lady.

More eye contact followed.

“That’s the spirit, John. Good boy.”

Fucking seriously? That’s laying it on a little thick.

She smiled at me. Not unpleasantly, agreeably, but still not really what I needed to see after that.

“I just wanted to see the look on your face,” she said.

Her hoof was still here under my chin.

“Worth it?” I asked, sweetly.

“Very much so.”

She withdrew the hoof after that but stayed close and looming. Big lady.

“This the sort of fun and hijinks I can look forward to?” I asked. I was watching my hands and fidgeting with them in my lap.

“Oh, that was just a little joke for my benefit, don’t take it so seriously. If you just let yourself relax into the flow of things I’m sure you’ll find it more than pleasant. Certainly, I could make your time here memorable. Enjoyable, even. And beneficial. I could repair the damage done to your body, and your mind as well. If you wanted such a thing. If Celestia had wanted to she could have done so as well, which I think speaks volumes, don’t you?”

I looked up at her, flat. Again that strong sense of this being some sort of competition the rules of which no-one had told me about beforehand.

“I was reliably informed that that sort of thing could kill me,” I said. Again.

“As you already said, and as I think I already said that would only be if those doing it were as inelegant and clumsy as those you were familiar with. Not me, and likely not Celestia, were she so inclined. Any of them, really, if they wanted to. But her especially.”

“I’d imagine that if Celestia could have she would have. Whether you can or not I don’t know. Maybe you can, maybe you can’t. I don’t know. It’s all out of my hands. Magic. I hear it’s weird,” I said.

“Yes. Quite,” she said.

Then nothing. Clearly waiting for me to react.

“You just going to leave that there?” I asked.

“Don’t you think it was very specific and convenient? Your particular circumstances? And how any further progress or efforts towards alleviating them are apparently too dangerous to consider? Oh, how random magic is! How unfortunate. Oh well!”

“I feel like you’re implying something.”

She stepped in closer.

“I’m implying that they are lying to you. That they are keeping you deliberately hobbled and blank, because it suits them that way and they prefer you that way.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I really didn’t, either. We’d been over this, Celestia and me. Hell, me and just about anyone who knew the full details, such as they were. It was what it was! And I was fine with it! There wasn’t any mystery to it!

And even if there was - which there wasn’t! - why would anyone lie to me about it?!

And Umbra was just staring at me, reading my fucking thoughts. You know all this! You can see it! I don’t believe you!

“I know. But maybe you will. Ideas are odd like that, don’t you think? Like seeds, so often. Dormant, seemingly dead, until one day sprouting into bloom quite at random. Don’t you think?” She asked, tail flicking.

No. No I do not.

“No,” I said.

“Aww, poor thing, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?”

“No.”

“Aww, I have. There there,” Umbra said, and those words did not sound right at all coming from someone like her I have to say. Just jarring.

I got a pat on the head as well. Again laying it on a bit thick there, lady.

“I can do what I like,” she said.

Well...can’t argue with that. Not exactly in a position to stop her.

“How do you know any of this anyway? Eyes and ears, huh? You steal the report that, uh, doctor guy put together or something? The twitchy guy with the suggestively-named medical equipment?”

There was a report. I’d seen it. Hadn’t read it, obviously, but I was aware it existed. Presumably it just went into greater detail on what I already knew the bottom line about.

“Not steal, no. I had it copied. Much more sensible,” she said.

Huh, guess that does make sense…

“I could show you the copy, if you’d like? Though I am given to understand you are unable to read? Unfortunate. I could point out the more notable parts to you, if you wanted. You might find them interesting.”

“No. Thank you.”

“Your choice. And I can see this subject is making you tense. We’ll say no more about it. Though, just as a final thought, I’ve been lightly skimming just across the top of your thoughts without you dying, if you noticed. I even attempted to probe a little deeper - with unfortunate consequences, I’ll admit, but without you dying which you’ll also have to admit.”

None of this is getting through to me.

“Good for you,” I said.

“It is. But it might also suggest that it’s not as life-threatening as you may have been lead to believe.”

I still don’t care, I still don’t believe you.

“That is up to you. Maybe it is worth some consideration, however.”

I have a headache. Thin end of the wedge, that.

“Well, your mind is unusual. I haven’t quite worked it out fully yet. I will though, in time. No more headaches after that, I promise you. Now!” She stood up straight so suddenly I jumped and a moment later I find myself being pushed aside on the bed as she clambered in herself. Alarming developments.

Would have tried to wriggle away but a hoof from her put paid to that. Strong lady!

“I’d rather like to hear something mundane and everyday, just to help me unwind. You make toys for children, I believe? How is that?”

At this point I should probably just take it as read that she knows more about me and my life than I probably do. Fuck, she probably knows my actual name and is just keeping it tucked away somewhere to spring on me later. Probably knows my inside leg and all.

“You know if you just want someone to talk to there are much better ways of opening the conversation than by shitting on me,” I said.

‘Mundane and everyday’, come on!

She pulled me in tighter against her and giggled again. It’s a giggle that suits her, sure, but that’s not saying much.

“Look at that! You learn something new every day, even as a queen. I’ll make a note not to ‘shit on you’ in future. My question stands though, how is that? Making toys for children?”

I gave her a scrutinizing look, or at least the best of one I could do from being squashed into her. From every appearence she was being entirely sincere and from the outside I couldn’t see how this was some sneaky way of fucking with my head again. But then I’m an idiot, so what do I know?

Then again...

“Do you really want to know?” I asked. Umbra nodded.

“Truly I do. It’s...interesting,” she said, smiling down at me with every appearance of warmth.

Speaking of warmth she was actually, personally, exceedingly warm. And not that squishy, fine, I’ll give her that.

Sigh. Okay. Whatever.

“I’ll have you know I’m just playing for time before my inevitable rescue,” I said, shifting about to get more comfortable, failing to get away from her in any way, shape or form. I sighed properly then, and started blathering about teddy bears.

Kind of surreal, now I think about it.

I didn't know I couldn't hear the answer

Author's Note

I've done rather a lot of this.

I didn't know I couldn't hear the answer

From there things developed into something of a pattern. Well, not really a pattern as that implies some level of regularity or consistency. There wasn’t a lot of that.

Umbra basically came and went whenever she wanted, usually without warning. I’d be in bed and she’d appear, I’d be looking out of the window and I’d turn around and she was there - that sort of thing. Still managed to make me jump every time it happened

When Celestia did it it was adorable and fun! When Umbra did it I nearly shat myself!

I mean it was funny both times when either of them did but still, that’s not the point.

Food was still brought, though again not really to any set schedule. Just whenever, apparently, and if I didn’t touch it the old lot was taken away to be replaced by the fresh. This struck me as terribly, terribly wasteful and was actually the bit that got to me the most.

Figure that one out. I’m an odd guy.

And, of course, I did cave before too long. Fuck it. If she wanted to do something horrible to me she had a million other ways of doing it. And nothing bad came of eating any of it. I just stopped being hungry. So long, moral high ground. It was fun while it lasted.

Days definitely passed, that I can confirm. I saw it happen, what with my window and its fabulous view of sweet rock all. I saw nighttime come more than once. So there was that.

They had to know I was missing by now. They had to. Which meant what? Search parties? I mean, ‘in the clutches of the evil queen who is thought to be defeated’ is probably not what people will immediately leap to, as far as conclusions go. It’ll take them a while.

Patience, patience. And resilience! Umbra’s made her intentions pretty clear, laid them all out. You’re not in immediate danger, at least not obviously. Just have to be patient, be polite and just...wait.

Great. Sitting around with my thumb up my arse hoping that I, damsel in distress, am rescued from this tower.

I can do that, I suppose.

Even if it does mean putting up with Umbra popping up without warning to cuddle me like I’m a fucking teddy bear and get me to talk to her about my ‘mundane’ activities like I’m her own living white-noise tape.

Jesus, that sort of thing has got to be beneath a supremely evil monarch, right? Didn’t she enslave everyone that one time? Turn into some sort of doom cloud? I guess everyone needs downtime but this is ridiculous!

Know what the worst thing is though?

When she wasn’t just trying to get a rise out of me or trying to get under my skin about this or that she wasn’t...actually...awful…

Ugh.

I would hardly characterise her as pleasant company but she’s not, you know, terrible. At least not those times when she isn’t trying to be. Those times she’s actually quite nice. Or at least tolerable. If I forget about the whole ‘gulling me in and keeping me here against my will’ thing. Which is alarmingly easy to forget at times…

Probably because I’m an idiot. Other people probably wouldn’t have that problem. But then they wouldn’t be here, would they?

She still reads my mind though, which drives me up the fucking wall. I feel violated, damnit! It’s not fair. I’ve asked her to stop repeatedly and of course she hasn’t. Not sure what I expected.

Tried to outfox her. Tried to think jumbled thoughts. Or of, you know, confounding imagery. Or that song I vaguely remembered about a guy stapling tapeworms to his penis. Or to just ignore her. None of it really worked, and most of it just seemed to amuse her. No matter what I tried she always saw around it or through it with barely any effort at all.

Almost like she had experience with this sort of thing. Sigh.

Apart from that? Nothing, fucking nothing. Nothing to do. The room lacked anything I could readily use to pass the time. The most it had was that window and, like I said, the view was nothing to write home about.

Actually, go back a bit, you know what the really worst part was? When I realised I was actually looking forward to the bits where Umbra would pop up, just so I had something to do. That was the worst part, bar none.

Especially because I think she fucking set that up on purpose.

One day - three days in? Four? Fuck, I really had lost track - I was sat by the table, which had been put back in place by then, while she sat on the bed. She’d wanted me on the bed, too, but I was refusing. Just to be petulant.

The shutters had had to be closed so things were quite dim. There was a blizzard outside, apparently, and that climate-control magic could only do so much. Apparently.

“How go the evil plans?” I asked her. Couldn’t really help myself. I was bored!

“No more evil plans, actually. No need. You wouldn’t have heard from here but I’ve won, yes. Won completely. The world is now entirely in my thrall. Enemies ground beneath my hooves, all resistance crushed, my eternal reign now firmly in place. Was much easier than I might have expected,” she said, cool as anything. I just nodded.

“I’m very happy for you. Celestia in a dungeon somewhere? Can I see her?” I asked.

Umbra tapped her chin, made a show of thinking about this.

“I’ll see if I can arrange something for you.”

“Very kind of you.”

Okay that little bit of back-and-forth wasn’t too bad, actually, I kind of liked that.

“Are you sure you won’t join me? You look very lonely sat on by yourself over there,” Umbra said, patting the same spot beside her she’d patted before. I sunk deeper in the hard wooden chair.

“Fine here, thanks,” I said.

Some merry seconds were spent glaring at the tabletop before Umbra piped up again, softer than before, so much so it caught me wholly off-guard:

“You are very fond of her, aren’t you?”

No need to qualify ‘who’ here, clearly. I groaned, sat up straight so I could sprawl across the surface of the table and cover my head with my arms.

“Are we really going to talk about this? Really?” I asked, peering at her through the little fortress of me I’d made for myself.

“Indulge me. Please? I am honestly curious. When you think about her your whole aspect changes. It is intriguing.”

She looked serious. But then Umbra was very good at looking serious. I sighed.

Fine, whatever. Not like I got anywhere else to be.

“I’m not the best at summing this up. She’s just - I don’t know. She’s lovely. She’s patient with me and she gets my jokes and that’s, like, a big one. Don’t have to stop and explain it she just gets it. And she’s just - I don’t know. And the smile. And she saved my life that one time, that’s kind of a good one.”

“Oh?”

“I mean anyone would - hopefully, I mean, jury’s still out on you - would have got help if they’d found someone in the state I was in, but she was the help. And she stayed being the help! Didn’t have to. She had other stuff she could have been doing but she went out of her way to look after me. First face I can remember seeing, first voice hearing and all that and she just...I don’t know. I’m bad at this. There you go. Happy?”

I was probably blushing at this point because I’d just spent a few merry sentences putting my foot in it, but I’d done my best, damnit. It’s not something I ever really ‘think’ about, it’s just there in my head, known. Think I covered most of the important details.

I’m not getting into what other of Celestia’s attributes I’m partial to because those aren’t really up for polite discussion. Ahem.

Oh great, now Umbra’s smirking at me again.

“I’m starting to get the impression that a large part of your fondness for Celestia is due to her having saved your life. I can understand that, but you really don’t owe her anything for that, you know? And besides, I saved your life as well and you’re hardly fond of me.”

“What? I’m sorry, what?”

Okay, leaving aside how that’s not even the main thing - what? What?

“Don’t you remember? The train crash?” She pressed.

What in blazes was she talking about?

“Train crash?”

Quick check. Had any trains crashed? No. Had any trains crashed with me on them? Hmm. Also no, not at all. That was not a thing that had happened. This was just made up. Completely! Utter nonsense.

If I stared at her long enough she might twig that I wasn’t buying this.

“Ah, I almost had you there, didn’t I?” She said, beaming.

Not her A material, this. I honestly expected better.

“Not even for a second,” I said.

She scrutinised me, obviously trying to sniff out a lie. But I wasn’t lying. This she apparently realised.

“Shame. Still, as you say, worth a punt, hmm?”

If Umbra thinks that using my words is going to soften my attitude to this fumble she is sorely mistaken!

“That was very weak, for you. For you I’d expect better,” I said. Putting on an expression of mock-surprise she put a hoof to her chest and said:

“You hold me to high standards? Who knew you had such esteem for me.”

I continued looking at her, trying to find something. There had to be something.

“Were you trying to pull something on me, there?”I asked.

“What? Of course not. What could I be trying to pull?”

I pointed an accusing finger, sitting up straight!

“That was real blunt by your standards. I’m not even sure how I’d categorise that. A joke, maybe? But it wasn’t coming at me like a joke. You’d only do something that shoddy on purpose. Or am I second-guessing myself now?”

Umbra looked away, but not so much I couldn’t see her grinning to herself.

“I couldn’t possibly comment,” she said.

Lady’s got me thinking in knots, urgh.

Just ignore it. Gloss over that weird episode.

...but what was that, though? That had to have been in aid of something, right?

No! Stop worrying about it! Clearly she’s just trying to unsettle you and it’s working. Move on!

Fortunately for moving on I was presented with the sudden and unexpected distraction of being magically hoiked out of my chair and floated across the room to the bed. Plainly she’d got tired of me being stubborn.

In short order I found myself kind of just propped against her, one leg leisurely draped across to keep me in place. Like I could get away anyway.

Umbra hummed happily and rested her chin on top of my head. Then, she hummed thoughtfully. I could tell the difference between the two, now, and also knew that she wouldn’t have done it unless she’d wanted me to notice.

“Something on your mind?” I asked, because I knew she would just keep on humming thoughtfully until I did.

“We get one another’s jokes. I rather liked our bit about me having taken over the world. It came together very well, I thought.”

To be fair it had, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ll riff with anyone. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Are you trying to draw some sort of equivalency here?” I asked.

“Just pointing out something I noticed. Felt it was interesting.”

Urgh. Not bothering to try and argue that. I shifted a little against her side and glared angrily at the wall opposite.

“Are you comfortable?”

I was, actually. Umbra may not have been squishy but she was still perfectly pleasant to lay against. Especially if you have no say in the matter...

“No, I’m in agony,” I said.

Another giggle. Actually closer to a chuckle, I suppose? Somewhere between the two.

And did she just kiss the back of my head?!

“I did. It seemed the thing to do. Maybe you should try and get some sleep. You seem tired.”

“Yeah, sure,” I grumbled.

Already she’s in my head and now giving me little pecks, too? That seems like crossing a line to me.

“I’ll warn you next time,” she said.

“Would prefer you just didn’t. Or even if you asked permission first so I could say no. Politely.”

“Yes, because queens are famous for asking nicely for what they want,” she said and I could almost picture the eye roll on that one. “Get some sleep.”

“I’m not even tired, mother.”

“Then just relax, and see what happens.”

There was a wall, just in front of me. A brick wall. I could tell this by feeling it. Couldn’t see it, though, because it was too dark. Mostly too dark. What light there was was coming in bright but coming in above me. A window set in the wall, too high for me to see through.

Could hear through it, though. Muffled but not so muffled I couldn’t make out voices.

People talking. Bunch of guys talking, from the sound of things. I cocked an ear, listened.

“-and she came back with me, actually, which was nice. Little embarrassing but nice she made the effort, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can see that. Embarrassing though?”

“Well, home’s a shithole. Not the best place to show anyone around. We didn’t really stay any longer than we had to. I stay at hers now.”

“Over there?”

“Yeah, over there. It’s nice. Much nicer than home. How about you?”

“Oh I never saw any of them. Well, I did, but not when they were like that, you know? Just when they were people-shaped. Just took their word for it.”

“That sounds weird.”

“Little bit.”

What were they talking about? Felt like I’d come in midway through something and missed the preamble. No context here at all, all Greek to me.

I wanted to look through the window. The urge to see who it was who was talking was mounting within me. Curiosity, would be the word. I had to look through. I had to get high enough to peek through.

Fumbling, I reached about to see if I could find anything. I walked into something hard, hurt my shin. Boxes? Boxes! Handy.

By touch alone I hauled the boxes about, starting to stack them up. So I could climb them, you see? They were heavy and awkwardly sized and this being in the dark wasn’t helping either, so progress was slow. I heard more talking. New voices now, different ones. I think?

“So she bites you? And drinks your blood?”

“Not all the time, only sometimes. It’s really not that big of a deal, honestly, it’s fine. Anyway, I think you mentioned something about a nurse?”

“No, she dressed up as a nurse, which caught me off guard. Think it might have touched a spot in my brain I’d been unaware of, too.”

“I hear a woman in uniform can do that!”

“Very funny.”

What? Again, I feel like I’m late to the party on this. Probably makes sense to them. But who are they? I want to look. Very close now. Got my little stack set up. Wobbly though, unsteady. Climbing it is pretty nerve-wracking. Got to balance on the boxes, brace against the wall. One leg up, both legs up, climbing, climbing...

I had got so involved with the climbing that I failed to notice that all the talking I’d been hearing had stopped.

I only noticed this when I reached the top and finally looked through the window, and I only noticed because I saw that everyone in the room on the other side - humans, I was seeing humans! I could see them! - had turned towards the windows.

A room full of guys. Human guys! All kind of looked a bit like me, actually. Little differences but surprisingly similar in a broad sense. And I could see them! I could see other humans!

And they were all looking at me. Every single one of them.

Oh shit that’s scary. They can see me?

The boxes wobbled, I lost my footing and I fell.

Expected to hit the ground. Didn’t though. Just kept on falling and falling and-

“Fuck!”

What? What was - what was all that? Where’d the wall go? Where’s the - oh, wait, wait…

This is the tower, isn’t it? I’m back in that room. The - Umbra’s tower, yeah, yeah. Shit, must have dozed off. Huh, weird. Don’t remember that happening. Where am I though? This view looks wrong...

I was next to the bed - next to the bed? Shouldn’t I have been in it?

Indeed I should have! I must have fallen out. Yeesh, some violent wakeup. So why wasn’t I on the floor?

Oh, oh I see. Umbra caught me. Magic again. She’s still on the bed as well and she caught me before I hit the ground. Nice of her.

“Safe hands,” I said as she lifted me up and popped me back down where I’d been before, resting on her. I yawned and settled in when I remembered something.

I remembered what I’d just been daydreaming about. I remembered people - people! Actual fucking humans! I could see their faces still! Fucking - fucking noses and eyes and hair and not all brightly coloured! I could still see them in my head! They hadn’t disappeared!

What! How?!

That’s not - that’s not possible, is it? I thought that was the whole point?! I thought that was my deal?!

Twisting around and wriggling out from beneath Umbra’s leg - which had draped across me again - I pointed another accusing finger at her.

“What were you doing? You were doing something!”

Magic yanked me back against her and her arm went more firmly into place around me. No wiggling away this time. Didn’t stop me trying though.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” she said, rocking me a little as she put her other leg around me, shifting so she had a better angle to do this. My wriggling efforts continued, to no avail. It was the principle of the thing.

“You did something! What did you do!”

“Shh, John, calm. I was just seeing what I could do about some of the surface damage, that was all. It’s not as severe as it looks. It can be repaired quite easily, I should think. Certainly, I was able to do more during your little snooze than has been done throughout your whole time in this world. You being asleep certainly helped.”

What? No!

“No! No repairs! Don’t - don’t do that again! Please! Just leave it alone!”

Was it weird that I was more pants-shittingly terrified of some random old memory of mine being brought back than I was of the possibility of dying from magical brain poking? I’m an odd guy.

Then again, would having the old me brought back be a kind of dying? Philosophically speaking? Answers on a postcard, please.

Fuck! What had she done?!

“Shh, John, John-”

How deep a poke are we talking here? I mean that’s one thing but who knows what else she did? She set up shop in there? Fuck, I need to leave. Fucking reading my brain is one thing that’s bad enough but getting inside that’s too much I need to get out I really don’t-

“John!”

She’d turned me around by this point and was holding me in front of her so I had to face her. My wriggling had stopped, mostly because she’d yelled and he had been shockingly loud.

“I have not done anything. I barely smoothed over one of the cracks, so to speak. That is all. It was merely to see if I could. I have not done anything else,” she said, in what I assumed was meant to be a soothing tone of voice. It did not work.

I don’t believe you!

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she said, again. That was kind of a line of hers I was starting to notice.

“But you would just go galavanting through my head seeing what you could fiddle with?” I asked.

She actually looked bashful on that one! At least a little bit! Like she knew she’d done something wrong! Wonders never cease indeed!

“I will admit that was perhaps hasty on my part. I was simply curious. I won’t do it again,” she said.

“Is that a promise?”

“Queens do not promise.”

Great. She have a fucking red book of these phrases? The little book of queen do’s and don’ts? The guide to being completely superior to everyone? I brimmed with confidence and reassurance.

And I could still remember those guys from the drema. Weirdos. Staring at me. Bleurgh, unsettling. Was that how humans looked? Other ones, I mean. I know what I look like.

Not a fan, I got to say. Could do without seeing them any more than I had to.

Still, I could feel that thrashing core of panic that I’d been enjoying starting to settle down. I was still deeply, deeply unhappy about this fucking smash and grab inside my head but I felt less like pounding on the door screaming to let out. I just felt annoyed, now. Especially as Umbra turns me about in her hooves like a bloody teddy bear - again - and holds me in close.

“I won’t do it again,” she said. Again, I wasn’t brimming with confidence but what can I do about it? Presumably this relationship we have built on trust requires me, here, to take her at her word on blind faith.

Yippee.

“I’m not happy about this,” I said.

“I am aware.”

Guess hoping for an apology was just hopelessly naive wishful thinking on my part.

“A queen does not-” She started but I knew where that was going.

“Yes yes. Can work that out myself, thank you.”

Would have expected some reprimand for interrupting her but, surprisingly, none came. Guess she really could tell that I was actually, properly legitimately unhappy about this. And I was! Rarely did I ever feel so...gah! I’d go so far as to say upset!

Instead she just nuzzled the back of my head and said:

“You’re rather adorable when you’re asleep. Has anyone told you that?”

Nice segue. Seamless. Barely noticeable.

“All the time. Constantly. It’s how most people say hello to me,” I said.

Christ! Fucking mindgames! This went South fast! Any time anyone felt like popping up and pulling me out would be great, guys! Don’t feel the need to pick a dramatic moment for it! Anytime will do!

Wonder what Celestia’s up to...

Don't look until I signal

Author's Note

Hope everyone's comfortable.

Don't look until I signal

Was this naughty, what I was doing?

Maybe. But in the good way, I hoped. The fun way!

Certainly, I hadn’t sneaked around so much in a long time. Difficult for me to take a train covertly, but I’d managed it. Slipped passed all my subjects with none the wiser. Quite exciting, actually. I can be subtle when I need to be.

And it wasn’t as though I was avoiding my duties. I had fully informed Luna of what I was intending to do and while she wasn’t exactly thrilled she hadn’t objected. It was only for a day, after all, or as close to a day as could be managed.

The Crystal Empire was hardly next door. But the train was fast. It was only going to be a day.

Was it rude, though? Interrupting Twilight and John? And Cadence too, I suppose. I know this was supposed to be just a friendly holiday for the two of them - Twilight to see family, John just to be shown around - but they wouldn’t mine me popping in, would they?

Since it had now turned into an extended holiday for them - apparently, given how they hadn’t returned yet - I didn’t feel so bad about appearing. It was only for a day, just to say hello.

No it would be fine, I was sure.

I imagine that the look on John’s face will make it all worth it anyway…

The train arrived and I slipped off, still drawing no attention - very fun, just slipping through. Been so long since I’d had to do that! Nice to know I’m not too out of practise. Some ponies look, but none look twice.

Not often I have the opportunity to wander the streets - any streets - without guards and without drawing attention to myself. It’s not really the done thing, for a princess, and there’s not often call for it. I’d forgotten how pleasant it was. Can take things at my own pace. Very nice.

Maybe I should do this with John sometime? I’m sure I could extend the effect. Would that hurt him though? Hmm. Maybe best not risk it. Not yet at least.

Passed the guards easily enough, too, heh. That’s probably a security floor. I’ll point that out to Shining when I see him. For now though, let’s see if I can track down John. He’s hardly difficult to spot…

So I wandered. Didn’t see any sign of John though, or Cadence, or anypony, really.

I did, eventually, spot a certain little purple princess, much to my delight. She too was wandering though slower than I was, and apparently talking to herself. If it hadn’t already been easy enough to sneak up on her this just pushed into the effortless. Creeping up behind I extended a wing to tap one shoulder and then moved around the other side as she turned to look at nothing.

It’s an oldie but it’s a goodie.

She saw me on her second turn and her eyes widened and she nearly fell over! Gratifying.

“C-Celestia?!”

“Hello! Hope you don’t mind but I thought it might be fun to come up and surprise J- you and John! Having fun, you two?”

Twilight gaped for a moment and couldn’t say anything. I must really have surprised her!

I looked up and down the length of the corridor but saw nopony - or no-one - else. Same as before, though with Twilight here maybe a touch more unusual.

“Where is John?” I asked.

I wouldn’t expect him to be too far away from Twilight. I know he has a soft spot for her, and besides - he doesn’t like being on his own, not for too long anyway. I looked though and I could not see him.

Hmm. Maybe he was doing something?

Twilight appeared more and more nervous by the moment. And, now that I looked at her, she didn’t look to be in a particularly good state to start with. Circles under the eyes, which were bloodshot, mane a mess, looking back over her shoulder…

Something was wrong. Call it the voice of experience.

“Twilight,” I said, keeping my voice level and injecting what I knew to be a good level of calm into it, immediately getting her attention back onto me. “What’s happened?”

“Happened? Heh, nothing’s h-happened it’s just - things are going great! They’re - I don’t know what you mean everything’s fine I don’t-” She sputters, avoiding eye-contact, fidgeting. I cut across this before she gets lost in it.

“Twilight. Where is John?”

Twilight has a very ‘pinned in place’ look about her now.

“John is, uh, ah, well he has been - or is - well...missing.”

I wait for this to be a joke. Time passes.

It is not a joke.

Nothing shows on the outside. Inside is another story entirely.

“What do you mean ‘missing’?” I ask, perfectly calmly, reasonably.

The corridor gets perceptibly warmer and brighter. Not a whole lot, but enough I noticed and enough for me to tell some of my control may be slipping.

I normalise it and keep looking down at Twilight. Perfectly calm.

I can hear Twilight swallow before she speaks.

“He’s...missing…”

Still calm. So calm on the outside. Have to be, really, and I have a lot of practise.

Inside is another story.

“Missing can mean several different things, Twilight. Did he get on the wrong train and end up in the wrong place? Has he wandered off into the city? Has he wandered off into the snow? Has he locked himself in a room somewhere? Fallen down between cushions? Is he hiding? ‘Missing’ does not really do much to explain the situation.”

It’s only when Twilight bumps back into the wall that I realise I’ve been advancing on her, and only then it fully sinks in for me just how distraught the poor girl obviously is. She looks about two steps away from a complete meltdown. I can only imagine what she must have been going through.

I haven’t exactly been helping. I’ve just been making it worse! Selfish, awful. Look at the poor girl! Look at what you’ve done!

“Oh Twilight,” I say, bending down to wrap her up in a full hug, wings and all. She immediately burst into tears, clinging to me.

In the bawling and sobbing that follows I pick out some details. He was on the right train, and it was while disembarking that Twilight lost track of him - after which he went missing. This narrowed down the window at least, but still left a lot up in the air.

But I could worry about that soon. For now, I had to worry about Twilight.

“I s-s-shouldn’t have left him on his own! It’s my fault!”

“Shh, it really isn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong, Twilight, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s fine. You know how he is. He’s robust. He’ll show up.”

I did not blame Twilight. It wasn’t even clear if there was any reason for anyone to be blamed, but certainly not Twilight. She’s not his keeper, she’s his friend.

“But I - “

The hug loosened enough so I could look her in the face.

“No buts, it’s not your fault, okay? We’ll find him. I take it Cadence is also helping you?”

Twilight sniffled and nodded, wiping her nose on her leg. As opposed to on my coat, where her muzzle had been before.

I think we’d both need showers after this…

“There you go then. Now you have me, too! That’s three princesses all looking for him. I don’t even think John could work his way around that, could he?”

“No…”

“It’ll be alright, Twilight. Trust me. I’m sure he’s fine.”

I did not know this, obviously, but I chose to believe it. The alternatives were too many and all unacceptable.

At the sound of approaching hooves my ears pricked up.

“Twilight? Did you come this way?”

That would be Cadence. Good timing.

My niece rounded a corner at a fair clip and was already halfway towards us but not looking at it, which meant she was halfway towards us when she actually noticed us. She stopped so suddenly she even skidded. John probably would have thought that was pretty funny. He would have been right, too.

“Ah! Aunt! I - uh - we weren’t expecting you!” She said, breathlessly, going for casual.

“It is a surprise visit,” I said. This much should have been obvious, what with all the surprise.

Cadence’s eyes flicked from me to Twilight and back again, taking in the scene and coming to the only really available conclusion.

“So you heard about…?” She asked.

“Yes.”

No need to dwell on that.

“Right. Uh…”

The impression I was getting was that, since I was now here, it was being assumed by both Cadence and presumably Twilight that I was de facto in charge. This was not why I had come here and not what I had expected, but I can hardly say I was surprised.

I broke the hug properly after giving Twilight one final, supportive squeeze and then stepped back so I could look at the both of them.

“First, let’s all just refresh ourselves - I think we’d all feel better after a quick wash, yes? Then tea, I think, and while we’re enjoy that we can start talking about how we are going to find John.”

No arguments. Good.

Everything is going to be okay

Author's Note

What I want from this and what you want from this may not be the same thing.

Everything is going to be okay

I take it as a feather in my cap that I actually managed to get Umbra to do something for me.

I know! Amazing.

Being bored as I was - and oh my was I bored - I’d tried to think what inoffensive item I could reasonably ask for to pass the time with. You know, something she couldn’t immediately just deny me on the grounds I might somehow dig through the wall or shimmy down the outside of the tower with.

For the sake of argument.

What I asked for - and what I got! - was paper and pen. Or parchment and, uh, quill, I guess. Pencil would have been easier and I probably should have asked for one but I only thought about that afterwards and by then I didn’t want to push my luck any further.

Sure it wasn’t the most impressive victory in history but it was mine and I took what I could get. And now I had something to help in wiling away those hours.

I drew penieses and giggled. One had legs, another I gave a little hat and comedy moustache. Sublime.

I also, just to mix things up, wrote a variety of ‘Please come and help me’ notes, folded them into planes and tossed them out the window. None of them seemed to get very far but I told myself it was the thought that counted.

Just as well I had something to distract myself with, really, because Umbra hadn’t shown herself in hours. Days? Kind of hard to tell. Let’s say a day, just to keep things simple. Sure felt like longer than that but then again time stretches to fill the void when you’ve got nothing to occupy yourself. Other than drawing dicks, of course.

Her not being there was nice in a way because it meant she wasn’t around to mess with me. It also just set me fretting because what could it mean. Evil schemes? Forgotten about me? Just moved on to something else? Who knew? Not me, certainly. Hence fretting.

And while fretting I ran out of paper. Great.

I wonder what Celestia was up to. Did she even know? Did anyone know? What were they doing?

That would be more fretting. It was my primary way of occupying my hours. I liked to mix it in with circling the room because spending all my time on the bed had been starting to make my brain turn into scrambled eggs.

While circling I paused, because I noticed something odd.

Was it my imagination or was it getting warmer in here?

Actually, no, it’s getting hot in here! Like, standing-next-to-a-fire hot, what the hell?

Coming from one side of the room…

Heading on back to the window I stick my head out into the cold to see if I can see anything out of the usual. Only it’s not so cold no more, it’s positively temperate, and it’s also real bright out. What on earth?

My eye snagged on what looked to be a...no idea. Something. I could see something off in the distance. A very bright something. Not the sun - that was still where it belonged, I think, behind some clouds but still just about visible - this was an unknown.

Looked like it was getting closer though.

At speed…

Huh. Okay. I’m heading to the other side of the room now.

Being away from that side helps a little but not a lot and the heat keeps on rising and now I can hear kind of a roaring sound. Getting louder. Ugh, this is probably something I should be worried about. That’s irritating. What am I meant to do about it?

“Hey Umbra? You listening? There’s a thing outside? Want to do anything about it? No? Alright.”

Well I tried.

Heat close to unbearable now, I’m sweating buckets and I’m having to squint. Wonder if i should try closing those shutters? No, no probably wouldn’t help...

The roaring noise cut out for a split-second and in that split-second I allowed myself to relax and believe that it had all just been harmless events beyond my control that I had nothing to do with. That didn’t last though.

The wall ceased to exist. Just poof! Gone! A big chunk of it at least. And not quietly - violently! Bang! One big flash and bang and I am flat on my arse, coughing up dust and blinking to try and get the big blob of light out of my eyes. Fucking hell.

Least I was still alive, I guess. Silver lining, eh?

“John? Are you okay?”

I knew that voice. Little more booming and resonant and theatrical than I’m familiar with but still, I’d recognise Celestia’s voice anywhere.

“Celestia? That you?” I asked, reaching out for the vague blob that I was fairly certain had spoken. A muzzle met my hand, pressed into it. Ah, there it is.

“Yes John,” she said.

“That was some entrance! You did do that, right?”

“I did.”

Whoa. Who knew she had it in her?

I could now see clearly enough to actually see that it was, indeed, Celestia. I think? She didn’t look quite how I remembered how. Spikier. Also more on fire. Obviously her though. Obviously. But very much on fire.

“You’re also on fire?” I asked, getting back to my feet.

She really was. Not that it seemed to bother her. Or that she even noticed.

I got no real answer to this either, other than the most feral fucking grin you can imagine before she turned around to face the hole she’d blown in the wall.

“Get on.”

Not a request and not something I had a whole lot of say in! I barely had enough time to actually understand that she meant getting onto her - not an arrangement that really happened, to point out! At least not like that... - before she’d magically hauled me up and plopped me onto her back.

“Whoa Nelly,” I said before reflexively clinging on for dear life as he shot out through the hole she’d made, the sheer force of her exit tearing a good chunk of the room out with her. Jesus Christ! Calm down, Neo!

Hey on the plus side that fire wasn’t burning me to a crisp. More silver linings!

The trip across the snow did not leave a lot of room for conversation what with the roaring wind and her concentrating on flying - flying! I don’t think I’d ever seen her fly before, actually.

Well this was certainly new!

In practically no time at all we’d cleared those mountains I’d spent so long staring at and, lo and behold, just the other side of them was the big shiny place the train had pulled into! The Crystal Empire of a single big town! It was just that close!

Well, ‘close’ in relative terms I suppose…

The outskirts went whooshing on beneath us as Celestia seemed pretty confident about flying low. I trusted her not to hit anything, of course, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t clinging on as hard as was humanly possibly. That sort of thing’s probably a reflex.

I only caught the briefest flashes but I could tell there was a lot of gasping and pointing upwards going from the locals we were zipping over. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them. I’d gasp and point, too!

We headed towards that big fancy building I remembered seeing from the train. Presumably a palace or castle of some kind. I’m forever being ferried into palaces or castles. Life of riley, eh?

She set down on some big, sweeping balcony and I finally felt safe enough to let go. I just flew in from some tower over the mountains and let me tell you: boy are my arms tired.

“Well that was something! Surprised you found me so quick. How’d you manage that?” I asked, trying to rub some feeling back into my exteriors.

“We have ways,” Celestia said, giving me a rather nice, low-key knowing smile. Ah, missed that smile. Missed her. God I’d missed her!

Bollocks to my exterior, first things first!

“John, what-”

Big kiss! Followed by big hug.

Must have been a surprise as she’s still got a face like a slapped-arse even after I’ve stepped back. Heh, quite cute actually.

“Oh how I love you, wonderful horse. Even if you are still on fire.”

That snapped her out of it.

“Um. Yes. I - you too. Yes.”

So flustered! And kind of wooden.

“Where’s Twilight, by the by? Poor girl’s probably torn herself in half for this - not her fault, obviously.”

“She’s around, she’ll meet you shortly. I must attend to something briefly. You should go that way,” she said, pointing off a corridor.

“Oh, okay. That’s cool. You won’t be long, right?”

She shook her head.

“I will meet you up ahead. So will the others. Just that way. Follow the servant.”

The servant was there, another happy looking fellow who gave me a smart little bow before trotting off with me in tow. Still not that big a fan of having servants around but I guess it’s a job so eh, someone has to do it.

Wonder what’s for dinner…

Down this corridor and around this corner and up these stairs and down this other corridor - yeesh. A merry trail I was being led on and no mistake. This the back entrance?

Eventually - thank buggery - we seemed to arrive at where we were meant to. Or at the least we stopped and there was a door. The pony looked very pleased with himself.

“Here we are, sir,” he said.

“Where we are? Where are we?” I asked.

“Our destination, sir. Just through the door.”

That was vague. Still, at least we were somewhere. I pointed to the door, as though he could have been talking about any other door. Paid to be sure about these things.

“Just through here?” I asked.

The pony nodded, still smiling that same smile he’d been smiling the whole damn way here.

“Yes sir.”

Weird setup they got up North, let me tell you.

“Well. Alright then. Um, thank you.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

With a door. In the gloom. Those magic sconces weren’t the brightest things around, and the lack of windows wasn’t helping either.

When had the windows stopped, by the way? When was the last time I’d seen one? Oppressive style.

Nothing to worry about.

On this sunny, optimistic note I opened the door. What I found on the other side was not quite what I’d expected.

Wait. Wait. No, not circular. Square. This room is square.

That’s not right, is it? It should be round. But why do I know that?

I’m getting the weirdest sense of deja vu…

Something about this place is really familiar. Table, chair, bed - bed. There’s a unicorn on the bed now. A black - that’s Umbra! What!

“Hello John,” she said.

“What!” I said, out loud this time.

“You should come closer.”

I did, if only because my brain was operating on some sort of rudimentary autopilot. I staggered towards the bed but diverted at the last minute to sit in the chair by the table again, to Umbra’s obvious disappointment.

“What was all that? How did - what? Why? Who? But I? What?”

This was about my mental level at that point. Pretty sure I could hear my brain snapping, crackling and popping.

“I thought it was rather good, as far as tricks go,” she said.

“Trick? What was that?!”

Umbra pouted.

“It was just a joke. You shouldn’t take it so seriously.”

“No, I mean, how. How did you do that?” I asked.

“Oh I see. Just an illusion. Illusions are not difficult.”

That’s not a satisfying answer!

“But I was - I was out! I got out!” I said, pointing to the window that should not have been there set in a wall that should also not have been there. Both were there, obviously, and the view outside was much like it always was. White, vast, blank.

“You thought you had. That’s not the same thing,” Umbra said.

“B-but - ! Celestia! She was - she was here! She was on fire!”

Umbra giggled.

“Rather a nice touch, I thought. A little bit of drama just to set things off.”

Drama?!

Couldn’t be bothered to say anything after that. Just let my head thunk onto the table. Too much for John. John needs a minute to get himself in order. John needs quiet time.

Umbra did not supply me much quiet time. Maybe ten seconds, then:

“The kiss was nice, too. Unexpected.”

That took me a few clicks to work out. Then I refused to believe it could mean what it obviously meant. Then I accepted this and sat bolt upright again.

“Oh! That’s low. Fucking hell Umbra, why would you do that?!”

She gave me a look which suggested that she thought she was the wounded party here.

“I did not expect you to do it, it caught me off-guard.”

She had looked surprised...or Celestia had...or her as - ah! Fuck! No! Bad excuse! No excuse! This whole thing is a mess!

“Still! Urgh. Don’t - don’t do that! Why would you do that? I’m up on your whole ‘I do what I like’ mindset but seriously. Not fun times.”

I folded my arms and sulked. A more erudite man could have outlined the proper reasons why what she’d done was beyond the pale but I’m a flailing jackass so I was just cross.

Something did occur to me, though:

“Does that mean I was actually riding on top of you?” I asked.

That’s commitment to a bit. Wouldn’t have ever thought Umbra would even have considered lowering herself to that. Misjudged her, clearly. She also didn’t answer immediately and when I looked up she was fucking blushing.

“It was required for it to be convincing,” she said, not meeting my eye.

Can’t get a read on this lady. Mostly I think she’s lying with every breath she can muster, then she rides roughshod over me with some hot nonsense, then she’s blushing about something! Which one of those am I meant to pick up and take home?

I’m so tired.

“Did you honestly do all that just to trick me?” I asked her.

“It was only a joke. Did you really not like it?”

“I…”

I could not immediately find the words to sum up my feelings on the matter, and I lost the thread. I was not happy, this much I could articulate, but the finer details of the hows and the whys were multifaceted, and so beyond me at that moment. Then, something which had been nagging my brain chirped up and I worked out what it was.

“...didn’t this room used to be round?” I asked. Umbra looked around the room.

“Oh, yes,” she said.

The room was round. When had that happened?

“The fuck…”

And Umbra was gone from the bed and Celestia was standing next to the table and I almost fell out of the chair.

“Blow me down!” I said having to cling to the table to keep my balance.

“Was I at least a passable Celestia, would you say? I put her together mainly from your memories,” Umbra-as-Celestia said in pitch-perfect Celestia’s voice.

She struck a pose while saying this, too.

“Very convincing. Can you not do that, please? It’s - I’m not a fan.”

“I could try the small one, if you’d like?”

“What-”

There wasn’t a flash but there was a frame’s-breadth snap of blackness, kind of like the whole world blinking. Once that had passed, ‘Celestia’ wasn’t there anymore, and instead ‘Twilight’ was, beaming up at me.

“I think I rather capture her, myself.”

Again with the posing.

Man I missed Twilight...

“That’s - that’s great. Can we not do this?” I asked. Token gesture.

Another blink and now it was ‘Luna’s’ turn.

“Or Luna? You don’t seem quite as warm to her as others, though you clearly still consider her a friend.”

I put my face in my hands and closed my eyes. At least Umbra knows the word ‘friend’ I suppose. Presumably in a technical capacity.

“What’s the point in asking me if you won’t listen. I’m not doing this. Great work, Umbra, you’re hitting it for six. Fantastic. Great stuff,” I said.

“You alright there?”

Now that’s my voice! That’s just cheap!

“You’re taking the piss now.”

A pause.

“I’ve stopped,” said Umbra in Umbra’s voice. I didn’t open my eyes or look up until she kept pushing her muzzle against my head at which point I figured there wasn’t much point in continuing to be petulant.

She had, indeed, stopped, and looked much as she always did.

I want to go home. Not really cut out for this.

“What brought all this on anyway?” I asked.

“Events have been progressing faster than I might have liked and so I have been unable to adequately prepare for them. The experience has been stressful, so I was hoping to unwind. I also felt that you’d benefit from some stimulation,” Umbra said. I - having been midway through swallowing - choked and had a small coughing fit.

“That’s stimulation, is it?” I wheezed.

Umbra narrowed her eyes.

“I felt it would be preferred to you continuing to remain in this room,” she said.

“You could just let me out?”

Just a suggestion.

“You do not trust me enough for that to be a viable option.”

Run that by me again! Back that bus up!

“Me! I’m the problem? You’re doing this on purpose! You’re like this on purpose! I - fuck - I can’t get a read on you but that’s the whole thing, isn’t it? Top to bottom you’re just trying to keep me off-balance. I don’t even know why! Fucking, agh! You want to just come here to unwind fine, you want me to be some sort of weird thing you use for that fine I’m a big boy I can live with it whatever, but do you want me to warm to you or not? Could you just lay that out for me because - fuck I’m tired. Can I have a nap? Can we continue this later?”

Getting upset makes me tired. And upset. It’s cyclical

I really don’t like it.

Umbra looks very stoney-faced now.

“If my efforts at lightening the mood and making your stay more entertaining have made you that upset you are more than free to leave,” she said sourly, waving a hoof at me. No, not at me, at the door behind me - I heard it creak open. That got me to turn, and indeed there the door was, wide and open.

It was a trap. It was obviously a trap! Or a setup of some kind. Come on, not even I’m that dense.

“Really?” I asked her. But there was no response and the room was now empty barring me. I sighed.

“Fuck’s sake…”

Playing silly buggers, eh? Well count me out. I’m having a nap. Bollocks to you.

And so I did. Angry nap.

And when I woke up the place was still quiet and the door was still open.

Sigh.

“That’s how it is?”

No response.

Sigh. Again. Fine, fine. Let’s play. Just get this over with.

“Fine I’m going. Give me hell, Umbra. Just, ugh…”

I stumped my way through the open door and down the small flight of stairs on the other side - which I know for a fact weren’t there before - and though the door at the bottom and out into what was obviously, clearly the house I grew up in.

I am not impressed by this. Not one bit.

“Great attention to detail,” I said, leaving without looking at anything twice and lumbering into the silent street outside. It appeared to be about midday, maybe, and overcast. So basically exactly how I remembered it always being.

I could also now remember it. Fuck!

Looking up and down the length of the road I saw nothing that leapt out. No parked cars, no signs of life. Was deathly quiet, too. If this was meant to unsettle me it didn’t work because I knew already that this was just nonsense.

“Hello? Anyone? Anyone want to pop out?”

Nothing. My voice just rolled down an empty street. I sighed.

“Nice touch. Actually prefer this place without anyone here…”

A lot of walking followed. I walked down the road and towards town. Everything was modelled exactly how it should have been and as I walked I felt it all coming back to me. I remembered how everything linked up. This road to that road, that shortcut through to there, etcetera, etcetera.

“I told her not to dig and she fucking...nevermind…” I grumbled to myself, electing to just keep my head down.

What was the gameplan here? What was the purpose of this? Was she showing off, or was there a point I was just missing? Did I even care?

I went the way I knew would lead to the river and, once there, tried to fall face-forward into it. Mainly this was just to see if Umbra could do water properly and also to see how this little stimulating simulation would react.

What happened was, disorientingly enough, that the instant I hit the water I kind of swung up and out of an identical river the over side and came stumbling back onto the bank I’d approached from. Like falling through a mirror.

Wasn’t even wet.

“Okay that was weird, I’ll admit.”

Kept on walking. No sign of Umbra. No sign of anyone! Fucking ghost world! It wasn’t getting to me but it was eerie after a while. Empty windows and streets and no signs of life at all. Not even birds.

I know this is all just nonsense. None of this is real. It’s not going to get to me because I know it’s not real! I’m not that much of an idiot! I mean look, look at this! This is contrived. This is ridiculous!

And what’s more, I can tell it’s not real! Looks real, sure. Looks very real. But I rap my knuckle against this window, this wall? The same response. See? Not real. You’re not fooling me!

“Hear that? Not fooling me! Water off a duck’s back!”

No response. Didn’t really expect one. Still, have to at least look as if I don’t care, right?

And it was all familiar. Back when I’d tried to remember home or anything about it I’d got glimpses, maybe, and splitting headaches. Now it was all here, right in front of me. And I knew all about it. And only a tiny bit of a headache.

God I hated it. It made me extremely uncomfortable.

At length I picked a spot back by the river after doing a big loop and just sat. I wasn’t doing this anymore. I threw some stones at the river and they made ripples. That is good attention to detail.

“If you’re trying to drum some kind of lesson into me here you’re going to have to be a lot more blunt because, if you recall, I’m an idiot,” I said. To myself, apparently.

I sighed and laid back, looking up at a grey sky in which not a single cloud was moving.

Never the biggest fan of time to myself to think. I’m not very good at it. Especially at times like this, when I’m aware I should be thinking about things. Important things!

Umbra plainly has some sort of deal. I mean she’s said as much. She’s just so scattershot it’s difficult to work out where she’s even trying to go. She laid out she wanted something to keep around for shits and giggles, right? And that something is me, apparently. And then she comes at me from all angles like a dog whapping at a clam, apparently not sure how she’s meant to approach the issue.

Or am I missing something? I probably am.

It’s nice to be wanted, sure, but there are limits to that, right? And being wanted specifically as a fancy, living conversation piece kind of leaves a lot to be desired. One gets the impression that they’re not so much interested in you as a person but you as a thing they can show off.

Maybe that’s just my impression? Not something I can say I’ve run into.

Well, until now…

“John,” came Umbra’s voice. It was so sudden and so close and so unlike the quiet I’d been wrapped in for however long that I damn-near jumped out of my skin. In the time it took for me to twist my head around everything around me disappeared and I was, instead, back inside somewhere.

“Gah! I wish you’d stop doing that!” I said, having to steady myself on the nearest wall to keep from falling over. Really easy to get turned around with all this magic jiggery-pokery.

I looked around. Not the room in the tower.

“This is new,” I said.

“This is my bedroom,” Umbra said, from her bed. Always on a bed her. Or at least often.

Her bedroom looked about what I expected it to look like. There were spikes and braziers and rich, heavy fabrics and a bed that looked like it might also double as something you’d use to breach the gate of a fortress.

“Subtle,” I said.

“Can you come here? Please?”

Please this time? She’s pushing the boat out.

I hesitated so she sighed and brought me over herself the traditional way, just by magically picking me up. Surprising no-one I ended up being plopped down basically on top of her again, and snuggled. Sigh. Teddy bear.

Not going to hug her back, obviously. Just to make a stand. She’s got my arms pinned anyway.

“What was the point of all that?” I asked. Some of her mane had fallen down across my face owing to our positioning and I tried to blow it away without success. Sigh, again.

“I thought you could use some time to calm down,” she said.

Me? I was the one who needed to cool down?

“Huh.”

That’s so out there I’m not even sure how to react to it.

“And making it my home and my town and my human streets was just to show off that you’ve been digging around again when you shouldn’t be?” I asked instead.

“I was hoping it would upset you. I was - I acted rashly.”

Least she’s honest. This time.

“Right. Well thank you. I am actually upset but I was upset before anyway and it’s just continued,” I said. Grumpy bear, hah. That’s me.

A moment of nothing much, then:

“I’m sorry, John.”

Holy shit. Did I imagine that?

“Is there anything in particular that you’re sorry for?” I asked her, tentatively.

“Does one have to say sorry for specific incidents? I thought one would be enough.”

“You don’t apologise a lot, do you?”

“...no.”

“Were you hoping you could say sorry once and I’d say ‘okay’ and everything would be totally fine and we could put everything that’s happened today behind us?”

Had it just been one day? I’d really lost track while wandering around.

“Yes,” she said.

“You do know it doesn’t work like that, right?”

She swivelled me about in place so we could look at one another but did not let me go any further away than I had been to start with. Least her hair was out of my face...

“What have I done wrong?” She asked and I could tell she honestly, really had no idea. She knew she’d done something wrong, obviously, but could not pinpoint it herself. Clearly too this was a source of great confusion to her.

“It’s a long list. I could start at the beginning.”

I got a blank stare. A blank stare from someone with piercing red eyes is something to see.

“For you though I think the problem might be a little further back than just deciding to pick me up on a whim. You really can’t tell me any of the problems with anything that’s happened?”

“It was a joke.”

“No, not just that, though that’s a big part of it. You really - “

I broke off because I could not pick a starting point. Where could I start? Where! It’s like standing with someone in front of something towering and gigantic and massive and obvious and you’re both looking at it and both stood in the shadow of it and they’re just saying ‘What?’ to you. How do you go about explaining the blindingly obvious?

That and if you’re taking lessons on emotional complexity and interpersonal relationships from me then you’re in deep trouble. A brick wall could think rings around me on the subject.

“I don’t like that you are upset with me. I don’t understand. I cannot see why in your head and I cannot make you see it my way,” she said and it became mountingly clear with every word that Umbra was honestly at a loss. I wouldn’t say upset because that wouldn’t really apply, but she was clearly out of sorts.

As for her not being able to ‘make’ me understand her position? Well, thank heavens for small mercies...

“I really don’t know why you care what I think. I thought the whole reason why you nabbed me and keep me around was because you just wanted something to enjoy in your downtime,” I said.

“That is the point and purpose of you being here. It is just that you serve your function best in those moments that you seem well-disposed to me, and those times you stop dwelling on where you are. Do you remember the constellations?”

This would be referring to one time - some nights previously - when she had spent a fair amount of time pointing to what stars were visible from the window of the tower, naming the constellations, explaining what the names meant and generally educating at me about horse astrology.

Interesting, actually, even if most had gone over my head.

She had then also told me what she was planning on renaming the constellations once she was in charge, and explaining the reasons behind those names, too.

This too had been interesting, in its own odd way. Aim high, Umbra, aim high.

“I remember,” I said.

“I very much enjoyed that. It was very fun, explaining my plans to you, explaining things to you that you didn’t know. It was nice to be listened to.”

“Surprised you have a shortage of willing listeners,” I said.

Shiny, smiley servants have to be good listeners, you’d assume.

“They are not the same. They are - it is not the same. You do not always react the obvious way. They listen because they’re required to, when you listen I can tell you’re listening and when you are only pretending to listen.”

Oops.

“No. It is good. It is fun, attempting to bring your attention onto me. Not something I have to do often. I like being the centre of your attention.I - it - ”

Umbra was actually struggling to find the words here. For her this was probably what a nervous breakdown looked like. Holy crap.

Oh, and she heard that, too.

“You’re very frustrating!” She said. She didn’t sound so much angry with me for this as angry with the world that it was the case and that it had landed in her lap.

“That’s good?”

Umbra thought about this, then pulled me squashed up against her again. Whelp.

“It is confusing. I don’t know how to explain it. I enjoy it, but I am not sure why. I am sure I will eventually be able to explain it to you. And to myself.”

“Wonderful,” I said, muffled into her.

“You may sleep in my bed with me tonight,” she then said with the tone of someone bestowing a grand prize upon someone else.

“I’d really rather not,” I said and I felt her jolt in surprise.

“But I - I would like that,” she said.

“If you’re concerned about getting the best results out of me, sometimes you’re going to have to be patient.”

Again she turned me around so she could look at me, an eyebrow cocked this time.

“Patient?”

“Yes. And put off what you want for a little bit sometimes. Think about it this way: what’s good for me is ultimately good for you, yes?”

In the sense of, treat your teddy right and you’ll be more satisfied.

I wasn’t sure how else I’m meant to explain some pretty fundamentally simple concepts to Umbra. Like consideration for the wishes of others. Seemed best to frame it in terms she could understand, like self-interest.

“Are you attempting to manipulate me, John?” She asked.

How could you see it like that?!

“No! I just - gah! Do what you want. It’s what you’re going to end up doing anyway. Go nuts. See if I care. What can I do about it?”

She scrutinised me further and I had a thankfully brief stabbing pain right down the middle of my head that suggested she was trying to see if I was hiding anything. Ow. Also I wasn’t. You could have just asked, woman.

Umbra let out a breath, picked me up and popped me down beside the bed, slipping off herself a moment later.

“You do not have to sleep in my bed tonight,” she said. “I will walk with you back to your room.”

“Thank you.”

Man, do you ever stop to think how weird your life has got?

Umbra walked off and I followed, limping along. I think I’d left my stick next to that illusory river. How does that even work? Where had it gone?

“Could I ask you for something else?” I asked her, when we were an indeterminate way away from the room she kept me in.

“That would depend on what you ask,” she said without looking.

“Could you please stop poking around my head. I don’t like these things you’ve been showing me. Places and such. Not a fan.”

That got a glance from her.

“Don’t you want to be able to remember?”

“No, I really don’t. I could explain it to you but - look, could you just, as a nice thing to me, not do it anymore. Please? Please please? I already asked, didn’t I?

I did not have the energy to fully outline my reasons for why this was my position.

“I am already letting you sleep in your own bed,” she pointed out. Her largesse plainly finite.

“I’m greedy,” I said.

Umbra chuckled at this, which was something.

“Okay, John, as you wish.”

“Really?”

“Really. If that would make you happy,” she said.

That was a sufficient reason now? Ye Gods! I clutched a hand to my chest and staggered against the nearest wall. The shock! It has struck me dead!

“Hah. More humour. You being happy is good for me, as you say, and so is a good thing,” Umbra said. I could tell from her tone and bearing that whatever wobbly period she’d been going through she had now passed clearly out of. Back in control now, and solid as a rock.

Still, I’d seen it at least. I knew something other than solid as a rock existed. Had to count for something, right?

And hey, I guess we ended up in the right place for the wrong reasons as far as my happiness and the happiness of others is concerned.

“That would be a matter of perspective,” she said.

And then we moved through a door and I - sigh - was back. I don’t like this room at all.

I turn and find Umbra standing in the door way, utterly unreadable.

“Tomorrow we will - I - I will see you tomorrow, John,” she said, a ripple of that same frustration briefly disturbing the calm before she backed out and the door shut me in.

Fuck, man. That’s a - fucking hell. I’m wiped.

I’m so tired. How long have I been here now? Didn’t this room have corners? No, wait, that was wrong. It’s meant to be round. I wonder what Celestia’s up to. Hope Twilight okay. Should I have had a proper look around my parent’s house when Umbra put it together like that for me? No, no, bad idea.

What am I even doing.

Man, I don’t know.

It's safe now

Author's Note

All things to all men.

It's safe now

I will be the first person to put my hands up and say that I might perhaps just maybe possibly be a tiny little bit too easygoing. I can cop to that. I’m a big enough boy to admit this. I’m also very forgiving.

See, now, to me those are good things. But I’m aware not everyone shares that view. And that’s fine! Takes all sorts, right? Everyone’s different. Spice of life and all that. That’s fine.

Mostly this is the result of laziness. I really don’t have the energy to keep on disliking someone. It’s exhausting. Life is easier if you just shrug it off and keep going without having to change direction. That’s lazy but that’s how it is and how I am. Eh.

And I’m basically indestructible anyway. Or so I like to think. In the figurative sense, I mean. A stiff breeze could probably blow me over but I’d feel fine about it is what I mean. And if I think it that’s enough for me, really. I can take anything life might care to throw at me. Why shouldn’t I be able to?

Man is disturbed not by things, but by the principles and notions which he forms concerning things, yes? These things happening to me are as bad or as good as I allow them to be, yes? Think I heard that somewhere once. Force of will, son, force of will.

That’s my excuse.

There are some limits though. Or, well, not limits I suppose but, ah, points of weakness? Things that someone can do that even I find difficult to put behind me. And they don’t even necessarily have to happen to me! Just things I can’t comfortably gloss over. Malice, is one. And violating someone’s absolute territory. You know? Messing with their head.

Even then I’m still a soft touch at heart. It wouldn’t take much to win me over. I’m just a softy. And lazy. Did I mention that?

The point of all this navel gazing is, basically, that I have no idea what to think about Umbra.

Column A: Really, I have every right to be grumpy with Umbra. A rare thing in life, to be able to hold forth against someone without reservation! But think about it. I’m meant to be up here on holiday - on holiday! I’m supposed to be laughing it up with Twilight and that other one! Uh, Cadence, that was it - and instead I’m stuck here! And it’s all Umbra’s fault!

That’s a pretty good reason not to like a person. You’d be hard pressed to find someone to argue otherwise!

On top of that you have oodles of hot nonsense. She has mindslaves! That’s - that’s not a nice thing! And then there’s the other stuff! Fucking weirdo mindgames and just jerking me around and also legitimate invasions of my brain. That’s a big one! I am not a fan of that! Leaving aside the potential to kill me, it’s also just getting dangerously close to areas that I had thought comfortably put to bed forever.

I do not want anything dug up from the sealed away portions of my skull, thank you. They can stay that way forever. I am happy the way I am. If I were to be different I would not be me and I would be someone else, and I like being me. Me am in good place, me am happy.

It’s a whale of a time, being John! Whoever the other guy has had his run! He can have a rest now! He doesn’t need to come back!

Fucking philosophic nonsense who has the time to worry about this...

Though, in her defence, Umbra has so-far been pretty good at avoiding killing me by accident. In that at least she was as good as her word. Guess she’s a dab hand, er, dab hoof at mindfuckery. Snaps for Umbra. Good job you.

Not that I should be defending her, really…

Which does bring me onto column B, however.

Column B: I really don’t have the energy to actively dislike anyone, like I said. And if I just bring a hand up and cover up one eye so to speak and so only see how she acts to me when she’s being nice, well, she’s not awful.

Though, really, if your criteria for how you want to think of someone is ‘Ignore all the bad parts’ you’ll probably think that about most people…

That, and the more I think about it and the more she hangs around the more it seems to me like she doesn’t actually have a clue what she’s doing. Not that she’s an idiot or anything - oh no, not at all - but just that she’s picked something up thinking it’s going to go one way and instead it’s going another way entirely and now she has no idea how to handle it.

I even think she’d stopped skim-reading my thoughts. Can’t be sure, obviously, but she wasn’t doing that annoying thing where she replied to whatever I thought last anymore.

In a strange sort of a way I’d got used to it. Ugh. If it’s not one thing it’s another I swear.

It is weird. Like she’s showed up tooled up for the big snooker tournament, say, only it’s actually a netball tournament and she’s just left standing there holding her cue and trying to act as though she meant for all this to happen.

You know?

I don’t know. I’m not equipped for this. I’m not equipped for anything! I’d be out of my depth in a teaspoon. I kind of want to just go home, go to sleep and do my best to ignore that any of this ever happened, honestly.

And maybe have a cup of tea and a cuddle. I’m a simple man.

Wonder what Celestia’s up to...

Besides, once I’ve been rescued - which I imagine will happen any day now, surely, and for real this time - there will be plenty of other people willing to actively dislike Umbra on my behalf. I have no doubt about that.

Speaking of Umbra - as I seem to spend most of my time these days doing - she did indeed show up in the morning as she said she would, bright and early. She also brought breakfast, which I did not expect.

She was still acting odd. And that’s odd by her standards. Her baseline, to me, was an attitude of unflappable confidence of the sort that came from having it fixed in one’s head that the world is This Way and any deviations from this are just passing phases that will, in time, be rectified. The kind of self-confidence that moves mountains by denying they are there and then arranging things so that they don’t stay there. That takes brass!

That baseline is still mostly there, but there are cracks through which something else shows through from time to time, and it is unsettling.

“You okay?” I asked while eating some bread. Good bread.

I asked this because from the moment she’d entered to the moment I started eating bread she had not said a word, had spent a lot of time staring into space and - for the first time, I noticed - her mane was untidy. Not, like, a mess, but actually with one or two spots out of place. It was so unusual it practically screamed at me.

Man, I think I’ve been locked in here too long if I’m noticing stuff like that…

It takes her a bit to even notice I’d asked her something and when it finally gets through she jumps, looking down to me - me being on the bed because, sigh, what else am I doing with my life?

“Everything is entirely as it should be,” she said, which sounded convincing to me, sure.

“I asked if you were okay though,” I said.

I could see her puzzling out the phrasing of this in her head to try and work out if there was an angle she was missing. Then, when she worked out there wasn’t, she went through what words she should use to come back at me with.

It seemed like a lot of effort to be her, I have to say.

“I am...fine,” she said eventually, pairing it with a smile that just didn’t really do much for anything.

“You don’t sound sure.”

The smile left. Really, it had barely been there to start with.

“John, I have answered your question.”

I held up my bread in front of me for defensive purposes.

“Alright, alright. Just you looked a little out of sorts is all.”

A tail flick from Umbra. Not one of the amused ones - I could recognise those - so I assumed some sort of low-level irritation. Oops.

“Would it increase your trust in me if I were you keep you better informed of outside events?” She asked, after some further rumination.

“I thought the problem was your lack of trust in me? And, being honest, I’d prefer if you let me leave. Can we do that?”

Hey, you never know, right?

Another annoyed tail-flick. Definitely one of the annoyed variety. I held the bread up again.

“That is not going to happen,” she said.

“Shame. Well, second best thing then. What news from the frozen north?”

She looked at me funny for that one. I’ll take what I can get.

“There is - there are problems. Ones that I had foreseen but ones which are proceeding faster than I expected. It is disrupting my plans. I am having to improvise more than I am comfortable with.”

“I don’t want to come across as undermining you here, Umbra, but problems for you are probably good for me.”

I really felt like I was pushing my luck here a bit but, to my surprise, Umbra’s patience held pretty firm. I didn’t even get that ‘skating on thin ice feeling’ I sometimes used to get from her. She just gave me a hard stare for a second and that was it.

“That is debatable. What is good for me is good for you, ultimately. You just refuse to see it as such. Yet,” she said.

It must be fascinating inside her head...I wonder what the world looks like from where she’s standing? Untidy, I bet.

“Well, let’s agree to disagree. What sort of problems?” I asked, ever-hopeful.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Umbra said brusquely.

“Right. Probably could have guessed that.”

So I knew a little bit more, but nothing actually useful. Guess it’s better than nothing, right? Assuming she isn’t just straight-up lying to me, which is always a possibility. Even if she denies it.

She was staring at me, after this. I could not tell why.

I waited for a payoff, but she just continued doing it.

“You’re looking at me like, well, I don’t know but it’s a pretty intense look,” I said.

She didn’t say anything. Just kept it up. I shifted a bit further away on the bed, which apparently tipped the balance for her.

“Celestia is here,” she said.

Oh that gave me a jolt.

“Honestly?”

“I would not lie to you, John,” Umbra said.

See? Denial! Not that it changes things. This is flatly untrue, this position of hers supposed honesty. I’m not the best at keeping score on these things - lazy, remember? - but I’m pretty confident she’s lied to me a fair few times at this point.

Though I suppose if you say to yourself that you’re not lying then you can do all sorts of things and still say this sort of thing with a straight face. When you’re able to see only what you want to see, it’s remarkably easy to live in a problem-free world. I think I heard that once.

“Guessing that’s bad for you?”

This, apparently, was Umbra’s limit as she gave a snort and hoisted me up magically into the air before clambering onto the bed herself. In short order I found myself being snuggled. Again, teddy bear. It’s a living.

“I do not want to talk about this. I want to have fun with you,” she said.

Ominous.

“I’m sure you have something in mind?” I asked, delicately. She nuzzled the back of my head thoughtfully a moment or two. Lot more touchy-feely these days, too. Maybe I was getting to her, hah!

“Would you like me to teach you some of the rudiments of mental defence? Would that increase your trust in me?” She said. Huh, I’d forgotten she’d offered that...

“I kind of thought you’d stopped looking inside my head without permission,” I said.

“I have not stopped, I have merely stopped responding to your thoughts as I could tell that you did not enjoy it when I did.”

Oh. Well. Guess that’s halfway there?

“Well in that case uh, sure, why not. Am I going to have to picture lewdness or something? I don’t think I’d be very good at that.”

Being a meek and mild gentleman I have something of a restrained imagination. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Anyone tells you otherwise they’re lying. If they have evidence it’s fabricated. I am as pure as the driven snow.

Umbra turned me about and gave me one of her more pitying smiles.

“That might confound an amateur, but an expert can easily circumvent such activity. Most minds are crowded with such material anyway - one quickly learns to maneuver around it.”

That’s me told.

“The primary component is confidence. It isn’t enough to believe that your mind is an unassailable fortress, you instead have to know it is. Accept its impregnability as a fact, an objective fact,” Umbra said. I may have gone crosseyed.

“That doesn’t sound intuitive,” I said.

“It isn’t.”

I would put money on the fact that Umbra has never had to teach anyone anything at any point in her life. I could tell she meant well, but her technique left something to be desired. What was I meant to do, exactly?

I waited for a response to this then remembered she apparently wasn’t doing that anymore. So she knew what I was thinking, but was waiting for me to actually say something about it. That’s cooking my noodle.

“Where do I start?” I asked.

“Know that your mind is closed to all outsiders, know that it is beyond their reach and inviolate, know for a fact it is impossible for anyone other than yourself to access your thoughts and that the efforts of those that try will and always will amount to nothing. It is easy. I can do it.”

I blinked.

“Presumably your years and years of experience might have something to do with that.”

That got a smile out of her. Genuine one! I think she was touched.

“Perhaps. Try it, John. Simply make your mind as it should be.”

Yeah, ‘simply’. That kind of thing is perfectly natural!

Ugh.

Hell, give it a shot. I’m good at pretending. Let’s pretend I am a bastion of mental fortitude!

No! No pretending! I am such a bastion! The wall of my mind are high and mighty! I am the master of my domain! None may enter! Hurgh!

Kind of difficult to concentrate on this with Umbra looking at me like that but whatever, it’s a fact! None shall pass!

Umbra, out of nowhere, beamed.

“Very good! You’re a lot better at this than I expected you’d be.”

Ooh! That’s nice to hear!

“I like to surprise people. So it worked?” I asked. Umbra nodded, still grinning ear to ear. Pointy pointy teeth...

“For the better part of a second. I am very impressed,” she said.

Uh. Okay. Well that’s good I guess?

I mean it sounded pretty pathetic to me but Umbra looked genuinely chuffed. Quite nice, actually. If weird.

Her ear then flicked and her face fell, glancing off to the side, towards the door.

“I have something I must attend to,” she said, leaving the bed at once, not looking back.

“Something I said?”

“No.”

And that was that! Blow me down. One minute you’re up, eh?

Oh well. Least I still have breakfast…

And after breakfast...nothing. Nothing! Fucking nothing, again! Just tedium again! I wouldn’t mind being kidnapped if I could just have something to do!

Well, I’d still mind, but I’d mind less…

So I had another fucking nap, doodled more penises - I’d had more parchment brought by this point - and eventually started walking in the circles. Was this how actual pets felt? Fuck, no wonder they scratch the furniture. Maybe I should try?

I ended up just leaning by the window, staring out at the landscape. This didn’t do much for me because it never fucking changed but hell, at least it wasn’t the room.

“Ah mountains. You understand me,” I said to the mountains distant. They were silent, of course, but they understood me.

BRacing myself against the cill I leant out. Just for something to do, you know? And for a little refreshment, once I got through that weirdo permeable magic barrier. Stuck my head right out there! Ah! Bracing!

Hmm, hang on a second.

Something’s caught my eye. Something down below?

Try to get a better look but the angle isn’t working. Ooh, a problem! Something to actually worry about! How exciting. Hmm, let me see…

If I use one of those shutters to hang onto I might just be able to lean out a bit more, get a proper look. Could also, you know, break and I could plummet to my death in the snow but what’s life without a little risk, eh? And at this point I think boredom might be what kills me first anyway.

The shutter seemed solid enough, which was good. Certainly it held me which I appreciated.

Sure was cold outside. But I had a good view of the tower, which was what had caught my eye. Rather, something towards the base of the tower.

Which didn’t touch the ground? What? There’s a gap between the tower and the drifts. The tower just stops. And there’s nothing there. Feel like I’m noclipping.

That’s, uh, is that normal?

“What do you think you are trying to do?”

Jesus!

I lost my grip and for a wonderful second that happened to feel like a lot, lot longer I got to enjoy the feeling of falling which cut off with an abrupt jolt. I found myself staring down at the snow. The gap had disappeared, which didn’t reassure me. I’d seen it! I know it had been there! Whatever it what had been.

Umbra - who had caught me - pulled me back inside and the shutters slammed shut behind me with such violence I heard the wood crack.

I then found myself held before a very, very angry looking Umbra. I don’t think her eyes had looked redder or her teeth sharper.

“I was-”

“Why were you outside?” She snapped, cutting me off.

“I thought I saw-”

Would have continued but she pulled me in closer until I was maybe an inch from her face. This was an experience let me tell you.

“You could have fallen! You could have hurt yourself. Why would you do that?”

“Well if you-”

“I do not want you damaged!”

Didn’t see much point in saying anything, given how it had gone so far, so was just left with Umbra all up in my face, breathing heavily and glaring. The silence gave her the time to realise that she was maybe a bit too close as she set me down and backed up and played it off like it was nothing.

“What were you doing?” She asked, with forced calmness. I gestured back toward the shutters.

“Just - thought I saw something. Bit of the tower was missing.”

Umbra’s eyes actually widened and I could practically feel her trying to not look toward the shutter.

“No it wasn’t,” she said.

“Uh, pretty sure there was a bit missing.”

“There was nothing missing.”

“...right.”

The more time I spend with Umbra the more certain I become that her strengths lie mainly in the conquering and the controlling and when straying away from that - into, say, just regular conversations or trying to pull the wool over someone’s eyes without just frying their brain - she seems to flounder. It’d be almost cute if I wasn’t locked in a fucking room with her.

“Let’s talk about something else,” she said abruptly, sitting down heavily on the spot and bringing up her hooves to put on my shoulders. Odd, unexpected. “I wanted to ask you a question, John.”

Kind of unusual that she’d give me a runup to that.

“Um, okay.”

“Are we friends now?” She asked, smiling at me awkwardly.

What?

“I thought I was a companion?” I asked.

For a given value of ‘companion’. Her definition of the term had been pretty clear cut back when she’d laid out way-back-when and her behaviour since had done much to demonstrate how it operated in real terms. Teddy bear, right?

Was I wrong?! So where did this come from?!

“You are my companion. But are we friends?” She asked, pressing, eyes on mine.

She was serious! What!

“I...don’t...know…?”

Plainly Umbra was disappointed by this. Awkward smile goes away.

“Oh.”

“You kind of just sprung that on me there, Umbra, and you are talking to a man you have locked in a tower.”

A tower with a bit missing…

“I thought we had had fun together,” she said, now pouting.

“Well, uh, that’s as maybe but it takes a bit more than that. Not that I’m an expert. More a dabbler. Uh, do you want a friend?”

“No. I mean - no. Queens do not have friends. But it would - I would - it would make me happier if you thought of us as friends. And making me happy is your purpose.”

Again, one gets the feeling that Umbra has dived into the deep end of something she thought she understood but is rapidly finding out that she doesn’t really understand. On top of which, while paddling desperately - to continue with the imagery - she continues to loudly declare to anyone watching that she’s totally fine while clearly not being.

Maybe that’s just me.

“Oh, well, um, if you put it like that,” I said, but I couldn’t change my answer with a straight face. That and she’s reading my mind anyway. You can hear all this! “I, uh, I don’t think this setup is quite right for friendship, Umbra.”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t really go into this with that in mind, did you?”

If she did that would A) Be a surprise and B) Also not be a surprise, given what I have picked up about Umbra these last, uh, days? Weeks? Fuck, how long had I been here again?

“No, I did not. But I have decided that it would be best,” she said.

“When did you decide this?” I asked.

“Recently.”

“I see.”

I think she might have cracked...to be fair, being around me too long will do that to most people. Look at Twilight. Poor girl. Crazy as a loon and it’s all my fault. Hah!

Thankfully, the awkwardness of this painfully, horribly, amazingly awkward situation was punctured by the intrusion of one of Umbra’s happy-shiny servants who came dashing into the room and up to her side, stopping to bow before saying:

“My Queen, the-”

Plainly Umbra was in an interrupting mood today. With a snarl she dropped down from my shoulders and lashed out and managed to one-hoof the poor chap clear across the room so hard the furniture jumped when he hit the wall. Jesus Christ!

“Imbecile! How dare you interrupt me!”

The servant, plainly dazed, still got back up onto his hooves and was - to my mild horror - still smiling as thought this was the greatest day of his life, even as he plainly struggled to stand upright.

“You are forbidden from entering this room when I am here with John! I have made this clear to all of you!”

“Yes my Queen - a thousand a-apologies and may you grind me beneath your hooves should it please you - but the emergency requires me to-”

“I am aware of the situation!” Umbra snapped, now having stomped across the room to loom over the poor guy.

“But they have breached the outer wards, my Queen!”

That gave her pause. Whatever it meant.

“So soon?” She asked. The servant nodded furiously.

I’m sure this all made perfect sense to Umbra. Or at least I hoped it did. Would hate to think that no-one here had any idea what was going on and it wasn’t just me.

“Go,” she said to the servant. “You know what to do.”

Again he nodded before tearing out of the room at speed. Umbra took a second to visibly compose herself and then she came back on over to me, still just standing there like a git.

“John. We need to leave,” she said.

“Leave?”

“Yes. Contingency. There are more secure locations at a safer distance. It was a miscalculation on my part to keep you so close to the empire. It has brought undue attention. I shall not make that mistake again. We need to leave,” she said, moving in around behind me and giving me a light shove in the back. Oof.

“You’re taking me with you?”

“Of course. You are mine now.”

Great.

Should probably at least try and put my foot down. I turned about and I stood strong and resisted her shoving! Or did my best, at least. She was a really strong lady!

“I do not want to go with you, Umbra,” I said in a firm, clear voice. Or at least as firm and clear as I could manage. She blinked at me. Guess I got the point across.

“What?”

“I don’t enjoy being kept in a locked room. I think I am losing my mind. I don’t want to go with you.”

Good to speak in clear sentences, I felt. Make myself as clear as possible.

“But Celestia keeps you?” She asked, plainly confused.

“She really doesn’t ‘keep’ me, I stay with her because I like her. I do get to go outside sometimes. I am free range.”

She even changes my water every other day!

“But I thought you liked me? Are we not friends?” Umbra asked, confusion deepening. This really wasn’t her wheelhouse, was it?

Also, um. Had I not just...not said that? Had she missed that?

“My feelings on the subject are complex,” I said.

Which, all things considered, was probably the best result Umbra could have hoped for, really. Certainly it surprised me that I could say that in all honesty. They really were complex.

The servant reappeared, breathless.

“My Queen, the inner wards are holding but will not hold for long - we need to leave,” he panted. Must be tough sprinting with a smile pasted on your face all the time.

Umbra turned to him and snarled - actually snarled!

“I know! Go! I will be close behind!”

And off the servant ran, leaving just me and Umbra again.

Was it my imagination or was the room vibrating?

“John,” Umbra said, bringing my attention back to her. “You are - you are very confusing. I normally destroy that which I cannot understand or find a use for, but with you I am...confused. I have not been able to work you out.”

“I’m deep and rich.”

“Humour. No. You are - I just do not know what to make of you. I have to act and think a different way with you. It is - “

“Frustrating?” I ventured. She had mentioned it.

“Yes. Rewarding, also. I do not fully understand it. But I will. Later. I will find you again,” she said.

A very ominous thing to say but still gave me a flutter because it kind of suggested something to me.

“That mean you’re leaving me behind?”

“It is the prudent move. Without you, Celestia will be less inclined to follow me, and I can make better my escape. From a position of security I will be able to gather a sufficient level of strength to accomplish my goals. Then I will find you again, and we can be - I will be able to understand you better.”

“Aim high, Umbra. It’s good to have goals.”

She smiled. Actually quite warmly. Man, this lady. I don’t know, man.

“Goodbye John. For now.”

“Bye Umbra. It;s been, ah, well it’s been an experience.”

No denying that.

She made to go but paused, turned back. Oh dear.

“I am going to give you a parting gift,” she said.

Oh this could only go well.

“Uh, you really don’t have to do that, Umbra.”

She was advancing on me again.

“It is something you will remember me by.”

Oh this gets better!

“No, honestly you really don’t-”

She stopped, just as I’d started backing up away from her.

“It is done,” she said. I looked around to see what she might have done to me. But nothing apparently had happened. Was she fucking with me again? Was that her parting gift? Paranoia?

“...what?”

“Goodbye John. Be seeing you.”

And she just left! I was left staring at the door which she’d left open behind her!

“Uh…”

Holding my thumb and forefinger in a ring I brought them up to my eye then swept ‘em down.

“Be seeing you,” I said.

Seemed like the thing to do.

...was that it? Was that actually it? I waited for the other shoe to drop. Nothing dropped. Nothing at all happened. Nothing jumped out at me. But then again, it might take hours. Umbra was like that.

Room was still vibrating, though...weird.

Did the evil queen just...leave? I mean I know I wasn’t privy to the details of her various nefarious schemes or the full extent of her present capabilities but honestly I expected more from her. Next time I see her I’ll tell her how disappointed I was.

Wait, no. That would mean she’d found me again. Scratch that.

Let’s just focus on the positives shall we, eh? Apparently I’m a free man now! Just like that!

After all that I actually managed to just talk her into just letting me go?

Fucking...

This place, man. Honestly.

Maybe it’s my charming personality? Or maybe reading my thoughts is unhealthy. Maybe being around me for too long rotted her brain and led her down a path of error.

...probably the latter, knowing me. Should probably wear a tinfoil hat just for the safety of others, and sleep in a lead-lined box.

“Should I...should I try the door again?” I asked no-one in particular and since no-one in particular was around to stop me or give me any better ideas I shrugged and did just that.

This time, when I passed the door, I did not find a little flight of stairs that I knew shouldn’t gave been there, no. This time, the instant I passed the door I was outside. In a street. A weirdo crystal street. I stood blinking in the light and looking around for signs of life. I could hear life in that distant you’re-in-a-town kind of a way, but couldn’t really see anything. Backstreet?

“Don’t recognise this place at all…”

I looked around to see if I could spot a tower or mountains of anything like that but no, just a street. Some pretty big crystal buildings off over the surrounding, smaller ones, but no towers, and no snowy wilderness, at least none I could see close to hand.

So...what? I’m so confused.

Where’s my stick, anyway? Oh yeah, didn’t I leave it in an illusion? Completely forgot about that. Staggering around a tiny room kind of meant it wasn’t really that much of an issue for me anymore.

I wonder what-

“John!”

I had about enough time to turn before something very large and very white and very fast but also surprisingly soft hit me and carried me off my feet. In a whirl I was flipped turned upside down and then, with a thump cushioned by something reassuringly warm and comfy that swept in around me, was on my back.

Looking up at Celestia, who appeared to be on the verge of tears.

“Oh hey, hi,” I said.

An instant later something clamped onto my leg. Looking down I saw Twilight there, wrapped tight. She was not on the verge of tears. She was just crying.

“Hey, hey,” I said, reaching out to try and ruffle her mane and just about being able to reach with my fingertips. “Come up here, come on.”

She did, albeit with a sob, and instead wrapped herself around my body, Celestia wrapped around the both of us, cutting out the rest of the world.

With Twilight still sniffling and getting me damp, it was left with me and Celestia to look at one another.

Oh man. Eyes. Not red. Pretty eyes. Really pretty eyes.

“It - it actually is you, isn’t it?” I ask, and she just nods. I kind of get the idea that if spoke she might crack and end up bawling like Twilight. I can kind of see it on her face.

I’d like to say that’s enough to convince me but recent experiences have perhaps made me a little cautious.

“Could you - could you do something to maybe just...help me confirm that? Or else hurry this along because it wasn’t funny the first time, you know, and doing it second time, like this, that’s too much.”

Celestia - please, please actually be Celestia - looks confused for a second, then sad, then composes herself, leans down so her mouth is right by my ear before saying simply:

“Look Phillip, I’m a stamp.”

Well I’m convinced!

AhahahahahahahahaohthankfuckcansomeonepleasegivemesometeaandtakemehomeahahahahaI’msotired!

Back with the boys again

Author's Note

Normal service.

Back with the boys again

You know, you can miss someone in your head and not really appreciate the full breadth of it until they’re right in front of you again. Or, in my face, right up in your face and kind of also on top of you.

All that detail just comes rushing back! Like, I’d missed her presence but I’d forgotten the sheer force of the why! You know? Just, ah, man, she’s there - no, she’s here! If I blink she might not be anymore! If I let go she might not be anymore!

Also she smells nice and has pretty eyes. Hey, I’m not especially complicated.

And hey, Twilight’s here too. I like that. Makes me happy. She’s even more adorable than I remembered. Even when she is, uh, bawling into my side and apologising whenever she isn’t sobbing incoherently.

I gave her a stroke but I couldn’t really tell if she noticed or not. I kept it up, hoping it might soothe her, before looking back up to Celestia, whose face remained more-or-less an inch from mine.

“I heard you were in town,” I said. Casual-like.

Her smile basically just filled everything I could see, and even if it was one composed mostly of relief it was still just there, being basically everything.

“Just passing through, you know,” she said.

I nodded but I sure couldn’t look away.

“Ah, makes sense. Just thought you’d track me down to fill up a day?”

“Something like that.”

It was probably Twilight being attached to me that was keeping Celestia from really breaking down, I reckoned. Certainly what was holding back what I suspected was a lot of, ah, relieved smooching. I could see the urge in her eyes, but she held back. Wise, probably. I held back too. Time and place, people, time and place.

She did, though, go in for a nuzzle and while doing that ask me quite quietly and right in my ear:

“Are you okay?”

Ah, shivers. Why does she do that she knows that happens.

“I’m fine, love, honest. Totally fine,” I said, giving her side a pat with the hand not at that moment attempting to calm Twilight down. Twilight, for her part, had at least gone quieter. So that was nice.

Celestia pulled back again, looked at me closely.

“I’m fine, really. Totally fine. Kind of a weird episode I’ll admit but I am totally fine. Probably just need to stretch my legs and I’ll be right as rain. You ever been stuck in a room for an extended period? I know that’s kind of my thing but it’s not great.”

I’m getting more of a serious look from her, now.

“What did she do?” She asked, going for quietly but not managing to go quietly enough to keep from setting Twilight off again. Ack, more stroking!

I’m not going to bother getting into asking how they know this or that or what they know. I’m just going to assume everyone knows more about what happened to me than I did. I am a leaf on the wind, bubble in the stream, just going along with everything, wherever you go there you are and all that. Story of my life.

More to the point I really don’t have the energy to even think about answering that question.

“Can I have a sit down before we get into that? Sorry. It’s just been kind of my whole deal for a while now. Ooh. How long has it been, by the way? I kind of lost track.”

Seemed like a good question to ask and certainly made the serious look go away, though what replaced it was mild concern. Never a fan of that, myself.

“You don’t know?” Celestia asked me.

“Like I say, kind of lost track.”

A second perhaps of hesitation, then:

“It’s been nearly two months.”

“Two months?! Fuck me sideways. I thought it was, uh…”

I actually had no idea how long I thought it might have been. Less than that! Fuck me!

That’s a lot of wasted days of hanging around in a room doing sweet FA, Jesus Christ!

Damnit, Umbra! I had shit to do! Probably.

“Time flies when you’re locked in a room at the top of a tower that’s apparently not - you know what, no, no I am not talking about this I am done with this for right now. Let’s, uh, anything else. Sound good to you?”

“Tea?” She suggested.

I did give her a kiss then. Just a little one. Couldn’t help myself! Twilight wasn’t going to notice anyway and it did make Celestia go a wonderfully light shade of pink.

“I could do something far more hot and heavy than that were we not in public,” I said, getting another nuzzle for my troubles, probably just an excuse for Celestia to hide her blush.

“No need to hold back on their account,” she said right into my ear. More shivers, agh.

“Oh you,” I said, reaching a hand up to just trail along her neck to her ears. This sort of thing came naturally, I realised. Barely even had to think about it! Gratifyingly it meant I got a shiver out of her. Take that, Celestia!

Then she pulled back out and, again, I got to enjoy that smile. No relief in it this time. Just straight-up smile.

“No, you,” she said.

I, uh.

I am extremely happy.

Probably this is the point that the rug gets pulled out and the whole thing turns out to be some sort of high-falutin’ illusion, right?

...nothing? Ah, that’s better.

“Hot and heavy?” Piped up a voice from somewhere below my chin.

Oh yeah. Twilight. Oops.

From the looks of things I wasn’t the only one who had temporarily let it slip that Twilight was still there as Celestia gave me a wide-eyed looked too before looking down.

“You feeling better?” I asked. Seemed like a good pre-empt.

“I should be asking you! I’m so sorry John! I’m so-”

“Hey, none of that. Not your fault at all, okay? And anytime you try to suggest it was I am going to prod the tip of your horn. I don’t know if that does anything but I like to think it will, so watch it, right?”

“But it was-”

“None of that,” I said, prodding the tip of her horn. Not as sharp as I might have expected it to be and - for some reason - she sneezed almost the instant I did so. That’s amazing! Does that happen every time? I want to try and see if it was a fluke but I also don’t want to push my luck.

Twilight gives me a sour look but doesn’t say anything else. Success! Back to normal!

Ah, lovely girl, Twilight. I am fond of her.

“We should probably stand up. I do believe a crowd is forming,” Celestia said, looking about. From where I was - on my back and largely wrapped in wings - I couldn’t see this, but I took her word for it.

Awkwardly untangling ourselves we stood, me getting help from the both of them. There was indeed a crowd, being kept at a respectful distance by guards - handy! Everyone was so shiny, too.

Also nearby was another alicorn who made me jump because I turned and she was just there. Kind of pink? Crown? Take a wild guess?

“Ah! Hello. You’d be...Cadence, wasn’t it?” I asked, on the off-chance I’d misremembered her name.

“Yes. You’re John?” She asked as I took her hoof in some kind of weird two-handed shake. I really have no idea how to greet ponies. The bump? One-handed shake? Hug? Nothing seems to fit best!

“I am indeed, keen eye on you. I must say, Cadence, the Northern style of welcome is certainly memorable - I’ve got an anecdote out of this trip, let me tell you!”

She looked horrified.

“He is joking,” Celestia said, leaning in to my rescue. Cadence looked slightly less horrified.

“Oh. Oh right, heh. Sorry,” she said, sheepishly. Was she apologising for not getting the joke or for the whole situation in general? Or both? Or neither? I was unsure so, hell, why not double-down? I just got liberated, damnit!

“Nothing to apologise for! I can’t imagine you roll out the evil queen for every guest,” I said.

Cadence stared at me briefly, then to Celestia for clarity.

“He is still joking. Though he should probably stop,” Celestia said, stepping around to stand next to me. Very close next to me.

“Should probably have stopped a few sentences ago,” I said. Celestia nodded.

“Probably, yes,” she said.

“Should probably stop now,” I said.

Celestia gave me a bump with her hip which set me wobbling but which wasn’t enough to topple me. I got the message. Hard not to grin though. Tee hee. Her tail then wrapped around my leg which, as always, felt a little bit weird given the nature of her tail. Nice though. Comforting, you know?

“You mentioned something about tea?” I asked.

“Yes. We could go to the palace or anywhere you might like. It’s up to you,” Celestia said. She seemed to be taking the lead on this, with Cadence and Twilight just watching on.

“Well I’d pick a place but I haven’t really had a chance to get to know the layout here yet. Don’t know where’s good.”

“John…” Celestia said, mild warning tone.

I was getting the impression that my flippancy about what had happened was not universally appreciated. Celestia was probably the one liable to be most patient with it, and so if she was starting to move toward the mild warning tone that was probably a good sign to stop.

Should probably take that on board! Not everyone can shrug things off as easily as you! Even if they’re things about you.

Concern for the feelings of others. Tsch. What an onerous burden!

“Uh, palace, why not? I’ve been known to be in a palace from time to time. And it’ll be private, eh?”

“Excellent choice,” Celestia said. “Would you like to walk there?”

“Limp there, rather. You know me. And that depends. Is it miles and miles away? If so then yes.”

“It’s not far,” Cadence chipped in, probably just so the poor girl didn’t feel quite so much like a bystander. I gave her a thumbs up, which probably just confused her. I think I heard Twilight whispering an explanation afterwards.

“I suppose that’ll have to do, then,” I said with a long-suffering sigh.

Jokes! All the time jokes! The jokes never stop! The tone never darkens! If the jokes stop and I treat things with even an ounce of seriousness then bad things’ll probably happen I bet. And that would be, well, bad. Can’t have that.

And so off we went. The crowd had - miraculously, such good manners- mostly dispersed by this point and the streets seemed clear-ish, though the guards maintained a cordon. Ugh. I hate being the centre of fuss.

Though I suppose I was at that moment also surrounded by the very CREAM of Equestrian royalty. Barring Luna. So guards were probably more for them than for me and were, probably, a good idea in general terms.

Rounding a couple corners and we were soon on a nice, big, wide road walking up towards a nice, big palace. Very glitzy. I let out a whistle.

“I do get to see the best places,” I said.

A sniffle from closer to ground level caught my attention and I saw Twilight shuffling along beside me, still looking incredibly downtrodden.

“Twilight…” I said and her ear flicked and she looked up. “Are you still coming up with meticulous arguments about how this is all somehow your fault?”

“...no,” she lied. I sighed.

I couldn’t in good conscience poke her horn again. She meant well, and some people are just worriers. It’s how they’re put together! Can’t hold that against them.

“Ah, come along, you. Come here,” I said, stooping quickly to sweep her up. She squeaked in alarm but didn’t even wriggle overmuch as I settled her in my arms and kept on walking, Celestia’s tail resolutely wrapped about my leg and the palace getting closer with every step.

Now this was more like it! Could practically smell the tea already!

Super cool

Author's Note

I mean a really big mess.

Super cool

Celestia had not really let go of me since finding me. Or had I not let go of her? Possibly a bit of both.

This had initially manifested in the tail-around-the-leg for the walk to the palace - which was very nice and fancy, I must say - and once we’d arrived and settled in it became me kind of sitting squashed in front of her against a table as the two of us did our best to share a seat.

Not exactly comfortable, but she meant well.

The tea was nice, too. As was chatting with people who weren’t trying to have a look inside my skull or pulling me around like a ragdoll. These were positives.

We’d ended up in some rather nice, moderately-sized reception room of some kind. I am still not down on palace nomenclature, despite spending my time shuttling between and sleeping in two of them. Rooms are mostly just rooms to me. Still, it’s very fancy. And everything is crystal! Even the teapot. Classy.

Everyone was unfortunately treating me as though I was made of glass. Kept getting glances in case whatever had been said last might somehow damage my delicate sensibilities.

Damnit, can we just - can we ignore all that, please? I know it’s what I’m doing! Fucking well in the past! Already over the horizon! Water off a duck’s back! Means nothing to me. Let’s just talk about the weather. I’m fine.

“John, why do you keep tapping everything?” Celestia asked, snapping me out of that little bit of fuming and reminding me that I had, indeed, been periodically tapping my knuckle against the table to see if it was real or not.

Oops. Didn’t think anyone had noticed me doing that.

“Oh, sorry. Just checking. Don’t mind me.”

Just in case, you know?

She leaned in over my shoulder so she could look me in the eye.

“Checking what?” She asked.

“The construction of the table. It’s a quality table,” I said, tapping it again.

Celestia held the look enough for me to not be able to, and I ended up staring down at my teacup. She then moved in closer and said quietly enough that the others couldn’t hear her and asked:

“Are you alright?”

Gah. Shivers. Again. Everytime. It’s the voice I’m telling you.

“I’m fine,” I said, giving her a pat on one of the legs she had wrapped around my middle.

Time to move things along! I looked across the table at the other two.

“So! Twilight and Cadence! Two months, eh? What did you two get up?”

They looked at me for a moment as though I might have been mad, then to one another as though to check that they’d both heard the same thing. After silently confirming that, yes, they had, their attention was back on me.

“Looking for you,” Twilight said.

Not really the answer I’d been hoping form.

“Oh, so nothing fun then?” I asked, turning to Cadence, hoping that maybe this might yield results. She didn’t meet my eye.

“No…” she said.

Well shit.

Whatever enjoyment I was having from the tea and conversation - which I am always a fan of, usually; a finer combination you’d be hard-pressed to find - soured more quickly than I might have liked owing to the mounting impression that I was in some way damaged and being handled gently, or else pissing in everybody else’s cornflakes somehow.

Not like I died, right? I mean, I almost did that one time and I came out of that okay. Made me the man I am today. Literally. And I’m fine. Barely even anything happened. It’s barely worth mentioning! So why do they keep looking at me like that?

To my immense and lasting shame I may have allowed myself to get a little bit sullen and withdrawn as a result, leading to the whole thing coming to a soggy, unhappy conclusion not long after where it was agreed that everyone should go to bed.

Why weren’t we having fun, damnit?

I was left to hang around Celestia’s room - where I would be sleeping, obviously - while she was off somewhere talking to the other two. About what? Who knew. Probably me. Urgh.

Not being particularly tired I took advantage of the bedroom’s balcony to stand and stare wistfully out across the landscape. I gave the handrail a tap, too. Seemed alright to me. Maybe everything was fine! I leaned over the edge a little bit to see if any parts of the building looked to be missing but I couldn’t see anything.

“What are you doing?”

Jesus Christ!

At least this time I wasn’t so far over I was in danger of falling, but still!

“Ack! Man leaning here! Dangerous! You know, she did that, too?” I asked as Celestia, grinning, came and joined me.

“Who did what?” She asked me.

“Hmm? Nothing,” I said. Celestia just frowned, but said no more. A wing settled around my shoulder and pulled me in. I’d rather missed that.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, after some happy minutes of companionable silence spent staring at nothing in particular.

“You know, whenever you ask me that my mind goes blank,” I said. Which was true.

“Implying that it’s ever not?”

“Oh! Brutal! Fair though. Uh, actually, there was something I kind of wanted to ask you,” I said, something bubbling up to the surface in my brain again.

“Go on.”

“Have you been up here the whole time? The whole time I was missing, I mean,” I asked.

“I came a little later, once it looked like yours and Twilight’s trip was going long. I didn’t know why until I got here,” Celestia said.

“So not the whole time, then?”

“Most of it. Why are you asking?”

“You’re not going to get in trouble for just stepping out for two months, are you?”

Seemed like a legitimate concern to me. It had been nibbling away at me for most of the evening, now, having just popped into my head out of nowhere. I mean, it’s a legit concern, right? One of two rulers just up and leaves for two months? That can’t be good.

“These were exceptional circumstances!” She said. I shrugged.

“Eh, it was just me…”

Probably shouldn’t have said that. Celestia looked like I’d slapped her. Oops. Now I felt bad…

“Don’t say that. You’re important. Luna understood and was more than capable of covering in my absence. Anything that required my urgent attention I would have returned to deal with, but nothing did. Anything that required my input could be dealt with at a distance.”

“Ah, well, that’s good then.”

“You shouldn’t think you’re not important. You are. And not just to me.”

I think everyone’s getting a bit emotional.

Well, everyone but me. I don’t get emotional. Because I’m carved from wood.

“Worse things have happened, though,” I said, again not really thinking through what it was that I was actually saying. Seriously, can you tamp down on that maybe? You’d allowed to wait a second before making noise.

“You were kidnapped!” Celestia said, aghast.

“Well yes a little bit I suppose but I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it would have caused so much fuss.”

For a second it looked like I was about to get an earful from Celestia for that one but she visibly calmed herself down and smiled at me instead, which was somehow worse.

“Can you tell me what happened?” She asked.

And she asked me so pleasantly that I couldn’t really say no to her. So I deflected instead.

“You guys not have any idea?” I asked.

Given they’d managed to track me down and breach wards and all that they must have figured it out at least a little, surely?

“Oh, we’re fairly certain we know what happened. I just thought I should ask you and not assume. We could always be wrong,” she said.

Fair play. And now she’s got me in a box. Oh well. Bite the bullet.

“It was, uh, that evil queen I got told about. Turns out not defeated. Just diminished? Umbra, yeah. Odd lady.”

“We suspected as much. It was always a possibility. Still amazes me she was able to remain so close and so well hidden…” she said, her expression briefly turning dark as she looked out over the balcony towards the city - or are we seriously still calling it an empire?

“Yeah she’s, uh, I don’t really know. I had a very strange time, in retrospect,” I said.

“What happened? What did she do?” Celestia asked with a very fine mixture of concern, curiosity and what was probably the beginnings of wrath.

“Nothing important,” I said.

Again, I seemed to have said the wrong thing here.

“John, we are going to have to talk about what happened,” she said.

“Oh no I get that I just - do we have to do it right now?”

I found myself being turned about by wingtip so that we were now facing. Urgh. A talk.

“Why are you putting this off?” Celestia asked.

“I’m not, I just don’t want to talk about it right now,” I said.

There is a difference!

“Why not?” She asked. I shrugged.

“I just don’t want to. There’s no deeper reason. I just don’t want to. Okay?”

I don’t want to talk about it because it’s a big deal! It’s a big deal and I’ll be expected to have answers to questions that are more than one word and which aren’t jokes. I’ll be expected to think about the answers first and for them to have meaning!

And she’ll look at me seriously and say serious things and Twilight’ll probably be there too and she’ll be nodding and everything will be serious and it won’t be fun at all. If I make jokes they’ll be mad at me! That’s not - I can’t do that!

Should do it though. Just get it done with.

If I get out of the way everything can go back to the way it was. And that’s good. I had everything set out exactly in a lovely way that was perfect and wonderful or as close to perfect and wonderful as can be imagined. I was comfortable, damnit. I was fine! Nothing needed to have anything happen to it! I was comfortable!

The big problem with things like this is that everyone expects you to wrap yourself around them. For them to have some kind of effect on you. Or to talk about them. Or to have feelings about the things that happened. They expect you to react and progress.

I don’t have feelings! I’m just here! I don’t progress! I’m here! Fixed point! Here!

That’s fine! I’m fine!

And I just want to stay right here, thank you. I’m fine! It was just a thing! Locked room for two months! Fucking weirdo illusions! Being able to remember bits and pieces of the old John’s past. So what! That’s not a big deal. It barely registered on me! Can’t we just move on back to where we were before? I liked it there! I had a niche!

I had a, uh, what’s that thing called where a wheel has worn like a gouge in the mud? Tip of my tongue, tip of my tongue...

Celestia sighed.

“Okay. We can forget about this until tomorrow. But it is important, John, you are going to have to talk to me about it.”

“I know, I know,” I said, nodding until one of her wings came in to just tip my head so that I had to look at her.

“Promise me?”

Well shit she’s got me now.

“Promise,” I mumbled.

And she smiled, and I felt better while still not feeling great. Probably about the best I could hope for for that evening, really. What a mess. Why can’t everything just be entirely uneventful forever and why can’t life not ask anything of me? Patently unfair. I’m being singled out here.

Not long after this we got into bed, turned the lights off - magic lights! - and turned in.

I did not sleep very well. Or at all, in fact. Pretended to, until I knew Celestia was asleep, then I just - quietly, carefully - propped myself up to watch her.

There were two reasons for me doing this. First, she’s just kind of nice to watch sleep, honestly, and I’d missed it. It’s difficult to fully articulate but it just makes me feel safe and happy seeing her like that. Like we’re both comfortable and shit’s great.

That’s weird, I know, but there you go.

Secondly and mostly though, I was looking for any sign that she might be, you know, not her. Little clues. Giveaways. A flicker of a disguise not holding. Something that’d tell me it wasn’t really here and I wasn’t really there and it wasn’t over.

Didn’t see any. Which is good. I think it’s all done with now. Think we’re finished with that whole episode. I think? I mean, if I wasn’t I wouldn’t know, but I think so. Right?

Not that I care either way, obviously. If I’m actually out that’s gravy, I’ll take that. That’d be the best. But if it turns out I’m being strung along again and I have to keep waiting to be rescued, well, I’ll do that too. I’ll keep going regardless. I’d be fine.

Anything could happen to me and I’d shrug it off. I’m indestructible, me. I’m fine. Plough through anything and come out the other side completely unscratched. Watch me. Fucking watch me. I’m fine.

I am a lucky cowboy

Author's Note

I can't really write ~~arguments~~.

But yes, more talking. Interminable, endless talking. Ceaseless talking.

Then again that's kind of the whole point of this thing so you'll either enjoy it and continue or not enjoy it and stop. Which is...kind of how things go, really.

I am a lucky cowboy

I was the first awake, which was unsurprising.

After the sun was up I took tea and enjoyed the quiet. Cadence was the next I saw, perhaps an hour or so later.

“Good morning,” I said, making her jump. From the looks of things she hadn’t expected on bumping into anyone so soon. She had that ‘rolled out of bed a few seconds ago’ look that I imagined I also had.

Recovering from the surprise of seeing me she smiled and came on over and we hugged. It’s remiss of me to go so long without seeing her, I must say, but that’s the way of things. Extenuating circumstances at least make an excellent excuse for an extended visit.

“Good morning aunty,” she said, releasing the hug and moving to take a seat a few away from mine. The table was large and seats were abundant.

“How is Twilight?” I asked. The two of them had stayed in Twilight’s room after the three of us had had our little post-John-rescue talk last night, and I felt it fairly safe to assume they’d spoken further once I’d left.

“She’s worn out. Relieved, but worn out. I think she might have a lie-in today,” she said. I nodded.

I could believe this.

It was not that she was taking his return hard - that would have implied she was not happy about it, which she plainly was - rather that she was simply emotionally exhausted. As were we all, really. It had not been a fun two months.

“She deserves a rest, she worked very hard. As did you,” I said, smiling at her. She smiled back and said:

“You too.”

I gave a self-effacing shrug.

“Possibly.”

Probably could have done more. But then I tend to think that.

“How’s John? Is he awake?” Cadence then asked, bringing the teapot over and pouring some out for herself.

“When I left him he was in bed pretending to be asleep,” I said. She paused on the cusp of a sip.

“Pretending?”

“I think he is trying to put off talking about what happened,” I said.

“Oh, well, it’s probably still a bit raw,” Cadence said, finally taking that put-off sip.

“I’d imagine so and I understand if it makes him uncomfortable but I have a feeling that he is hoping to just avoid the subject entirely and forever,” I said while mulling over my own tea. Not a variety I was used to. Pleasant though.

“Oh. That doesn’t sound good. Would he do that?” Cadence asked.

“If he thought he could get away with it, probably. John is a cheerful soul, but I sometimes feel a lot of that comes from deliberately steering himself away from things he’d prefer to not have to think about.”

I’d noticed this tendency once or twice. It wasn’t a huge problem, or hadn’t been, as there hadn’t really been anything particular pressing he might have needed to discuss. These last two months, however, was something he was probably going to have to talk about.

Whether he’d enjoy it or not.

He wouldn’t break a promise he’d made to me, but I could easily see him trying to forestall making good on it in the hopes that I might just somehow forget about it. Unfortunately for him I have a memory longer than a day.

“What do you think of him?” I asked, to move things along.

Cadence hesitated, briefly enough she clearly hoped I might not notice, long enough that I did. She set her teacup down and said:

“He’s...not as tall as I expected.”

I had to smile at that.

“I tend to oversell the height. I still haven’t fully got over the delight of being able to talk to someone without looking down,” I said.

This was not really a lie. Hardly the most impressive thing in the world and certainly not the sort of thing I’d ever consider an actual problem, but it was nice being able to look someone in the eye without having to bend. We all have our vices.

Although really if we were being honest I was taller than him, but I like to let him think this isn’t the case. Clearly I’m taller. Clearly. The horn does count. Why would it not count? It’s part of my head.

“This probably isn’t the time to mention it, but - ah, no, no don’t worry about it,” Cadence said, shaking her head and sipping again.

Well that was my interest piqued.

“What?”

She took a moment to consider whether or not she should say what was on her mind, biting her lip. Then she clearly decided that, on the spot, she couldn’t really keep it back.

“You two are very cute together,” she said.

Tiniest flutter of butterflies. A silly feeling but appreciated. It’s been a very long time. My cheeks went a little warm and I found myself having to look away.

“You’re right, this wasn’t really the time to mention that. But thank you anyway.”

I thought we’d kept it fairly low-key…

Then again, Cadence of all ponies would be the one to notice that sort of thing.

“Although - and she’d probably be upset with me for saying anything - but Twilight-” she started saying, but I cut in before she could continue.

I could see where this was going.

“I’m aware,” I said. No need for her to say it out loud.

“You are?” She asked. She looked surprised. I just shrugged lightly.

“It would be difficult not to be.”

“John doesn’t seem to know…”

“John would probably have had difficulty realising he was locked in a room had Umbra not informed him that he was locked in a room. I love him, but he is an idiot.”

I meant this in the most loving and honest way. Cadence did not contradict me.

Although really I was being unfair. He wasn’t an idiot. His mind just went in directions that were often unhelpful and unrelated to whatever happened to be the more pressing issue at the time.

This often manifested as outward idiocy and a failure to notice the obvious.

Despite this I continued to love him. Because of it? Hmm.

Mostly I think I am perhaps letting the slowly bleeding away stress of two months of frantic searching get the better of me here. I feel bad about saying it already. I’ll give him a hug later without explaining why, and it’ll confuse him greatly I’m sure.

He and Twilight will both likely need a holiday after this holiday to recover from the holiday.

The sound of bare feet approaching made my ear flicker and John duly appeared not long after. I’d honestly expected him to have stayed in bed for longer than that. Maybe he’d smelt the tea.

He’d also reverted to wearing a bedsheet, apparently.

“Good morning princesses. Oh, princesses minus one - Twilight still snoozing?” He asked, doing a quick, squinting scan of the table.

“She’s having an easy morning,” Cadence said and John nodded.

“Too right. Poor girl’s probably all tuckered out. I should really get her something. She goes out of her way for me. Did you know she got me a bigger bed back at her place? I didn’t even ask for it! Had the thing done bespoke! That’s crazy. Lovely girl, Twilight.”

Cadence and I had a look.

“You’re very talkative this morning,” I said. John was in the middle of yawning at the time so had to take a second to finish up before replying.

“You know me, gift of the gab,”

“Perhaps enough of the gift to talk a little bit about what happened?” I asked.

Just a little prod. Show him I hadn’t forgotten.

“Soon, soon. I just woke up,” he said. stretching.

“I know you didn’t go to sleep,” I said and John froze and, for a split-second, looked oddly panicked.

“How did you - you can’t - ?” He asked, tapping his foot against the floor.

“You were awake when I got out of bed. It seemed unlikely to me you would have pretended to be asleep had you not wanted me to think you’d slept the whole night through. It’s okay, John,” I said.

“Just wasn’t that tired,” he said, yawning again.

“If you don’t want to talk about it you can just say, John, and we can wait,” I said. He frowned.

“I said I would, didn’t I? Just not right now. And I’m fine anyway. I will do it, later, but not right now. It’s fine.”

“We shouldn’t have to argue about this,” I said, keenly aware of Cadence sliding out of her seat while trying to be as inconspicuous about it as possible.

“Why would we argue about anything? We have nothing to argue about. I’m fine,” John said, gesticulating so forcefully I was rather worried he might fall over, something he has been known to do on occasion. He didn’t, thankfully.

“John, you’ve spent two months locked in a room at the mercy of - to put it mildly - a very bad pony, you are allowed to not be fine. I would be worried, in fact, if you actually were fine,” I said.

“Well be worried then because I am. Totally fine. Fine the whole way through. Fine down to the marrow. Today is peachy, I’m grand.”

“Yeah I’m just going to go see how Twilight’s doing…” Cadence said quietly, slipping away. I could hardly blame her. John blinked and turned the way she’d gone.

“Something I said?” He asked, turning back to me.

“We weren’t exactly making the room a comfortable place to be,” I said.

The light dawned and he slapped a hand to his face harder than I might have liked.

“Agh, I’m sorry. I don’t know. Tired. Didn’t sleep well. Guess I’m having a bad day. Maybe. Not really. Nah today’s fine. Today’s fine,” he said, moving to the nearest chair and just resting on the back of it with one hand, rubbing his face with the other.

“People are allowed to have bad days,” I said, gently.

Apparently this touched a nerve.

“Yes! Yes they are! But I don’t have to! If I think it’s not a bad day then it isn’t, then I can stay exactly how I want to be. All in my head. I don’t have bad days, all my days are good days. It’s fine. I’ve got it sorted,” he said firmly, even glaring at me. Not what I wanted.

“But you don’t have to do that!” I said.

“I do! If I’m miserable then it’s someone else’s problem!” He said, his free hand sweeping out to the side.

“It’s not a problem! It’s you being upset and admitting it! That’s all it is! And if you do that then I can help you!”

“But I’m not upset! I am fine! Totally!”

“John!”

Might have gone a bit louder on that one than I’d meant to. Sheepishly I brushed a few errant bits of my mane out of the way while John stood up a bit straighter and stopped leaning on the chair.

“If you truly don’t want to talk about it now we can wait, I’m just worried,” I said, more quietly, nudging my teacup with a hoof. John shrugged.

“I said I would so we can I just don’t think it’s a big deal is all…”

He sounded very sad, which made me sad. I wanted to give him a hug immediately but knew it could probably wait, if only a little bit. Instead, I carried the teapot and a spare cup across the table towards him, setting them down in front of the chair he’d been resting on.

“Sit down, please. Have some tea,” I said.

“Don’t want tea…” he mumbled, while simultaneously sitting and pouring himself some and sulkily cradling the cup in both hands. Pouty and irritating, but still cute in a strange kind of way. Perhaps I’m biased.

But don’t get distracted.

“I love you, not some perfect version of you who never feels bad. I don’t even know why you think you need to do that. I’m not going to go away if we go five minutes without laughing at something. Sometimes that just happens. It gets better. That’s life,” I said. John wiped a dribble of tea from the outside of the cup with his thumb.

“I don’t know. It’s just not an issue,” he said, shrugging again, forlornly. “Certainly shouldn’t be anyone else’s issue. It’s just a muddle of stuff I can’t parse yet. It sits up here in my head but I can figure out. I can figure it out! No-one else should have to worry about it.”

“But it’s obvious that you’re unhappy and we want to help you. I want to help you.”

“I don’t know though. It’s a mess. It’s probably nothing.”

“Well, if you feel you can tell me maybe we can decide together if it’s nothing or not.”

“I just don’t think it was that big of a deal. In the scheme of things…” he said.

When compared to the scheme of things, most things ended up looking trivial. If you used the scheme of things as a yardstick your life would be very, very dull and you’d be hard-pressed to find much enjoyment in it anywhere. That’s what living in the moment was rather about. At least in my experience.

“You don’t have to weigh everything against the scheme of things. Some things you can just enjoy - or not - on their own merits. If you fall over you get back up again, but you’re allowed to say that it wasn’t fun,” I said. John let out a small laugh.

“Natty.”

I had no idea what this meant. Contextually it seemed to mean good, but with John it was anyone’s guess. I think that means good. Doesn’t it?

“Thank you. I think?”

“I liked your imagery,” he said, by way of explanation. Then he sighed. “Should probably, like, talk about what happened, right? Would that be the normal thing to do?”

“You can talk about whatever you feel you want to. It’s just about you not needlessly bottling things up. If you want to say something but feel like you shouldn’t because it might upset or annoy others, don’t worry about them,” I said.

He frowned, brows knotting.

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t feel that you ever need to keep something to yourself for my benefit. I’m a big girl, I can probably take it. I’d prefer you feel you were able to talk to me about anything.”

His brows remained knotted. Whether or not he’d be better able to understand these concepts after a proper night’s sleep was unclear, but certainly his having avoided sleep was not helping him here.

“This a trust thing?” He asked.

“More of a feeling comfortable thing. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me that you don’t worry about saying the wrong thing. Because that’s not a comfortable way to be.”

“I still don’t understand. But oh well! What’s new about that? Okay, alright, I’ll admit it - I might maybe not be completely fine. I might be a little rattled. I don’t know. It was - she was - it was just a very strange time. And now it’s done and it feels abrupt. Like I missed a step going down the stairs and someone’s about to tell me off for it. Uncomfortable.”

I had to take his word for that one.

John gulped some tea, set his cup down and then made vague hand gestures as he tried to find the right words. I gave him the space to do this.

“Umbra was, well - Twilight explained all that to me, about her. Evil times up North and all that. Still didn’t really know what to expect. Guess I lack the, uh, cultural backing to really appreciate it. To me she was just, uh. I don’t know.”

He tapped the table, noticed he tapped the table, frowned as his knuckles and then sat on both his hands.

“She was perfectly nice a lot of the time - kind of awkward, actually, in her own way - but she looked inside my head without permission and I didn’t really like it. I didn’t like it at all, in fact. Lots of reasons. Some pretty basic ones about privacy, you know? Not that I was that fussed. But she also got to look at the other guy, you know, and that - that kind of gets to me.”

“I know, you’ve told me.”

His hands came out again and he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“It’s not just that though. She actually got it to work, you know? She brought some of it back to me. And it fitted in alright and I didn’t die and that was nice I guess it’s just - what if that guy comes back and he wants something else? What if John now is the polar opposite of what life turned the old John into? What if he’s better than I am. Heh, wouldn’t be hard actually.”

“John…”

“Sorry, sorry. See! This is why I don’t like doing this! I sound like a whining tosspot. I don’t have problems. These aren’t problems!”

“They’re making you unhappy so they’re problems,” I said.

“But I can just not be unhappy, it’s easy. I can just think about it real hard,” he said, tapping his head and then slouching. “It’s just taking longer than usual. And I’m worried, right, because she - nah it’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

“What?” I asked. He held strong so I gave him some of the big eyes. He threw up his hands and caved. A cheap trick, I’m aware.

“Oh, she faked me out once, that’s all. And stuff looked weird. Like the room was round then it was square then it was round. And the tower wasn’t a tower. She could make stuff look like other stuff and I’m worried that - oh. Oh crap I forgot about that…” he said, looking suddenly mortified, eyes wide.

“What is it?”

“Heh, hah, uh, n-no it’s fine it’s not even that big of a deal it was just something that happened that’s all.”

His sudden shift in attitude put me on edge.

“What did she do?” I asked and something in my tone must have got to him because he looked up at me in alarm.

“Nothing like that! I mean, uh, well she - she faked me out, like I said. Kinda made pretend that I got rescued once already. By, uh, you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Had a whole thing. Had you bust in through a wall, fly me out. Very dramatic. There was fire and all sorts. But it was, uh, all really real. I mean, looked real, sounded real, felt real. I’m not sure what parts about it weren’t, really. It cooks my nut. But there was a bit where - well, she was pretending to be, ah, you, and after you - her? - rescued me I might have...given...given her a smooch…” he said, trailing off, fidgeting madly and looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t at me.

“Just a little one!” He then blurted. “I didn’t know!”

I actually laughed. I’d been so worried that she’d done something truly awful that this came as something of a relief. Still bad - I was not a fan of this kind of trickery - but I’d been gearing myself up for something so much worse.

“S’not funny I feel bad about it…didn’t mean it…thought it was you...”

I could sit the other side of the table talking to him any more. I got up, moved around, and settled in beside his seat, wrapping a wing around him. He leant into me.

“It’s okay John, it wasn’t your fault. You were tricked. You couldn’t have known,” I said.

“Still feel bad about it…” He mumbled.

“You shouldn’t,” I said. Then, after a moment: “Was she a good kisser?”

“She didn’t actually kiss back. Think I surprised her. Whole thing was weird.”

“It wasn’t your fault though, I want to make that clear. She tricked you.”

“I know, I know. She has odd ideas about, well, everything, I think. Think she’s got a real strange headspace. I kind of want to dislike her but she’s just so...I don’t know. Nah, I do dislike her she got into my head. But she’s just - ah fuck, I don’t know.”

He twisted in his chair and put both arms around me, which made me smile.

“I don’t know. She was awkward and kind of fumbling and inept but what she was good at she was really, really good at and what she was good at was getting inside my head and nosing around and that freaks me out. And I don’t know what else she’s done. Maybe she actually listened to me and stopped poking around. Maybe she didn’t. I don’t know. She said she’d done something for me to remember her by! What does that even mean?”

“When we get back to Canterlot we’ll have you properly checked and get you a clean bill of health, hmm? Make sure she didn’t do anything we can’t see. Would that make you feel better?”

“It would, actually. See what she did. If anything,” he said.

John then thought about this, and clearly worked out what what I’d said would actually involve.

“Oh God, it’s going to be that guy again isn’t it? The one with the big machine,” he said.

“Doctor Knacker is an expert,” I said, attempting to sound upright and serious. He peered up at me.

“Are there other experts?” He asked.

I thought about this.

“Not that I’m aware of,” I said.

“Just my luck…”

I had to laugh. A tension that had settled felt like it was melting away and it was blissful. Lowering my head I planted a kiss on top of his and he squeezed me tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“Grousing. Complaining. Being obtuse. Talking too much when I shouldn’t and not talking enough when I should,” he said, face pressed into my side.

“It’s okay, John. You’ve had an excusably rough time. All that matters to me is that you’re okay. How you get to okay is whatever works for you. I would just like to be there to help you along.”

John then surprised me by reaching up to pull my head down closer to his, the better to plant a number of kisses on me that I quickly lost count of. Particularly around the ears. I am fairly certain he did that on purpose and equally certain I was left very red in the face by the suddenness of it all. Among other things.

“Ah you’re lovely, you are. Knew I kept you around for a reason,” he said, grinning.

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, off the top of my head.

Nothin' but a good time

Author's Note

By now you should know what to expect.

Nothin' but a good time

Brr, had that counted as an argument? It sure felt like one. I hate arguments.

She used my name a lot...

Ah, fuck man, it’s not even my real name. Or is it? It’s this guy’s name, this guy standing right here alone in this room holding a teacup and feeling sorry for himself, but what about the other guy? What’s his name? Something else, I’d bet.

Although, wouldn’t it be amazing if his name was John too? Just through crazy random happenstance? That’d be amazing.

Anyway. I do suppose that was at least a bit of an argument. And my usual tactic or just pretending that there wasn’t a problem and letting it all wash over me didn’t work! Because that was the problem! Insidious stuff.

Ugh, whatever. We’ll go home, that charming doctor will stick me back in his suggestively-named machine and see what’s-what and it’ll all be totally above-board and then I’m sure everything’ll be peachy and we can forget any of this ever happened and just move on and continue doing what I’ve enjoyed doing this whole time. Fucking cushty.

Things better be the same! Umbra better not have done any rearranging upstairs! I’ll be mad. I’ll write her a sternly-worded letter. Leave it in a hedge for one of her minions to find and take back to her.

Wait, back up. She did know about me from before, didn’t she?. Said she had eyes and ears everywhere. Oh man, she probably does have minions just dotted around! More of those poor smiling sods! Reporting back!

That’s not a comfortable thought. Should probably bring that up. That’s a security concern, that is. Someone should look into that.

Well at least that’s a legitimate concern to feel wobbly about. The rest of this - more memory bollocks, more me being worried about what might or might not be going on inside my head - is just time-wasting navel-gazing horseshit.

Heh, horse.

No for real though it annoys me that this keeps coming up. I have two components of my life - the fun part that I don’t have to think too much about, and issues relating to my magically-fried brain that are aggravating and confusing. Can’t we just be done with it? Put it to bed?

Look. I’m here and I’m John. The other guy might be up there somewhere but we’d have to dig to get him out and that’s effort. And who needs that? I’m sure he’s fine. And I’m fine, right? Everything’s fine, see? Everything’s perfectly fine the way it is. Everything is set up perfectly. A place for everything and everything in it’s place.

Where did I hear that before? Hmm. Can’t remember.

Just, why can’t shit stay the same? Forever?

I’m comfortable! Prodding things around might change that! And change is death, right? Especially for me, maybe! If I go from where and who I am now to somewhere and someone else, that’s me dead. I’m gone, and now I’m someone else, right?

So just stay the same.

No! You idiot! That’s not how life works! Things move! Change! It happens all the time! No-one and nothing is ever a fixed-point! Never jump in the same river twice and all that shit! Get a grip! What is wrong with you!

Christ! Fucking philosophical toss! My brain is going to eat itself alive at this rate.

I’m going to go bother Twilight. Celestia’s off doing something regal and serious-sounding and I don’t think Cadence likes me that much, not that I can blame her. So Twilight it is. Lovely girl. Got a lot of patience for me, for whatever reason.

Getting to her wasn’t as easy as I might have liked. Was it a rule that all of these palaces had to be laid out in the most convoluted way imaginable? And what did ponies have against helpful signs telling you what was in what direction? Was it taboo or something? What if you needed the toilet in one of these places?

When I’m king there’s going to be a lot more signage, I’ll tell you that.

Huh. For me to be king I’d have to...marriage...succession?...is there a constitution that needs changing? Non-citizen…difficult to work around but not impossible...maybe…?

That can be a long-term project.

On the plus side my leg seemed to be having a particularly good day. A very good day, in fact. So good I didn’t even need the replacement stick that had been rustled up for me. I still took it, obviously, because I didn’t want to tempt fate, but it was nice not to have to limp very much at all. Refreshing!

As luck would have it I did manage to bump into a guard eventually - always so helpful - who pointed me in the right direction and after knocking on a few doors which turned out to be empty rooms I knocked on one that had someone on the other side answer me.

“Hello?” Came the sound of Twilight. I’d know that voice anywhere!

“Hope you’re decent in there, Twilight!”

As though a pony could be anything but!

Then again, actually…

No, best keep my mind away from that. Poor Twilight. She doesn’t deserve that! And it’d just be weird. Bleurgh.

I inched the door open a little but did not actually stick my head in, instead just waving a hand through.

“Do you mind if I come in? I’m bored. And lonely. So lonely,” I said.

“John? Sure, come in,” she said. So I did.

To my complete lack of surprise she was on the bed with books. Several books, in fact, all of them open. I sauntered on over - really enjoying having my leg not being a bastard for a change - and peered down at them. Didn’t mean anything to me, of course.

“Are you genuinely reading,” I did a quick count. “Five books at once?”

Twilight blushed. I did love it when that happened. Adorable!

“Not really. I mean, there’s five bere but it’s mostly just two - the others are for cross-referencing,” she said, as though that was better somehow!

“That’s even worse! Oh Twilight, you’re a young woman of fearsome intelligence,” I said.

“Thank you?”

Being careful not to upset her books and her notes - notes! She had notes, too! - I sat on the end of the bed. Leaning over I tried to make heads or tails of one of the books but it was all still gibberish to me, which made me feel the tiniest bit guilty.

Twilight had, after all, put some effort into teaching me how to read and thus far the results had been minimal at best. My fault, obviously. Laziness and general stupidity a bad mix for positive personal improvement.

“I have a confession for you, Twilight,” I said, sucking in a grave breath and setting my hands down on my legs.

Twilight, I saw, sat up a little more straight at this, one ear flicking.

“Uh, w-what?”

I sighed. Delivery of this was important. It had to be melodramatic and weighty. Wait a second, draw it out, then:

“I remain more-or-less illiterate. I have not been doing as much of my homework as I should have been, bad boy that I am.”

Confusion first from Twilight, then disappointment. Watched her face fall, ears fold. I felt bad.

“Oh. Oh right. That’s okay,” she said, forcing a smile. No! Not for my sake, Twilight!

“No, it’s really not okay. You put in a lot of effort on my behalf and I’m just pissing it up a wall - no more! Once we get back I’m doubling down, just for you. I’ll knock out the next great Equestrian novel by the time the year’s through, see if I don’t,” I said, wagging a finger at her to show I was serious.

Her ears stayed mostly back but I at least got a bit of lopsided smile out of her with that one, which was something.

“That’s ambitious,” she said.

“That’s making up for lost time. I’ll make sure it’s a real doorstopper, too.”

I held my hand up with finger and thumb apart to indicate how ridiculously thick and hefty I was aiming for. Twilight did not appear overly impressed so I added a couple inches and upped the girth. Ahem.

“Maybe focus on the reading first.”

Nodding, I dropped the hand.

“Course, course. One step at a time. The novel’s just the second step, is all. It’s part of my plan, Twilight,” I said, tapping my nose.

“Of course. What’s the last step?” She asked.

“Becoming king, obviously,” I said, all breezy.

Twilight jolted, eyes widening.

“That was a joke,” I added, quickly. “I don’t even know how that’d work. Just funny to think about, yeah? Think I’d suit a crown.”

She stared at me a second longer, waiting for the other shoe to drop or for the secondary or tertiary punchline or any hint I might continue the gag. Guess this is what I get for being a flippant bastard all the time. Oh well! Price to pay.

Eventually - after what felt like a real fucking long time - Twilight relaxed. For a given value of ‘relaxed’. At the very least she stopped boiling me alive with those big ol’ eyes of hers and looked down at the duvet.

Everything had gone uncomfortably quiet. That kept happening!

“I’m sorry. About what happened,” she said, voice small. Took me a sec to figure out what on earth she might have been talking about, but once I did I was having none of it.

“Ahbababa, none of that, please. Not your fault in the slightest. Just a, uh, very odd thing that happened out of nowhere. If anything you did the most to solve it all, so no apologies from you Twilight, okay? I won’t stand for it,” I said, shuffling up the bed closer to her while still doing my best not to disrupt her books, reaching out to just tip her chin up so she’d stop mopingly staring at the covers and actually look at me.

Hey, worked when Celestia did it to me…

“But I-”

“No, no buts, none of this, alright? Thanks to you I’m here and everything is peachy. So let’s be upbeat, eh?” I said, using my free hand to give the tip of her horn another little tap. Again, she sneezed. Confirmed!

“Stop that,” she grumbled, pulling back and covering the tip with both hooves. Cute, obviously.

“Sorry. I was verifying something.”

Twilight continued to give me a sour look so I stuck my tongue out at her. Appalled, she stuck her tongue back at me, too. Result. I laid back on the bed to stare at the ceiling, hands behind my head. Crystal ceiling. They definitely had a theme going.

“Presumably it’s quite nice and sedate up here the rest of the time? Now that it’s back, I mean,” I said.

The bed shifted a bit as Twilight came padding on over to lay down beside me, tucking in beneath one of my arms. And why not?

“Mostly. There were the Changelings...” she said gravely, as though I’d know what that meant. I did not.

“Changelings? The - swapping babies out of cribs?” I asked, fishing up a dim and distant memory of something I couldn’t fully grasp. Twilight just blinked sideways at me.

“No?”

“Then I am not familiar with what those are, I’m afraid.”

There followed a whistlestop trip down memory lane wherein which I learnt about Changelings - which were a thing, apparently, and were apparently shapeshifting emotion-eating bug things (figure that one out) - a hijacked wedding, botched conquest attempt, some big bad lady named Chrysalis...it was all a bit much, really.

Kind of glad I missed that one, if I’m being honest. Sounded like a rough time.

“More evil queens? Ye Gods! The North is lousy with them! Practically tripping over the things. I’m not going to have meet her too, am I?” I asked, propping myself up on an elbow to look down at her.

Apparently the wrong thing to have said. Poor Twilight’s face fell once again because of me. Argh! What’s wrong with you today?!

“We were really worried about you…” She said.

Now I felt even worse! I was not having a good run today, let me tell you what. Quite off my game. Appallingly so! Jesus, couldn’t make a bigger hash of things if I tried.

“Sorry, sorry, I won’t joke about it anymore.”

It is odd to wrap my head around the idea of people being so concerned about my welfare that they would take my own jokes at my own expense poorly. That just cooks my noodle, that does. I could joke about me dying until the cows come home but it seems that there are some who don’t see the funny side.

Takes all sorts, I suppose…

“Gah,” I then said. “We’re meant to be being upbeat! Drastic measures.”

“Wha-”

Drastic measures in this instance being, of course, tickling bellies. Results were immediate as I knew they would be! Certainly gave her something else to focus on.

This sort of thing is acceptable, you see, as we are buds. It’d probably be weird with anyone else, but me and Twilight are just like that. And thank heavens for it!

“S-stop! Stop!” She wailed, wriggling uselessly as she tried and failed to escape. I showed mercy, for I am kind, stopping the tickling, sitting up and instead plopping her onto my lap.

“Alright, no more moping, and I won’t make any more jokes about it because it obviously upsets you. And Celestia. And probably everyone who isn’t me. Okay?” I said.

“Okay,” she said, a little residual giggle just running through her. The tickling always got her!

“Good, okay, that’s step one of my new plan,” I said, firmly, nodding as a man who means business can only nod. Twilight paused midway through brushing away a tear - of mirth, one hopes - to look at me just a touch worried.

“Another plan?”

“I’m a man of many plans, Twilight. Wheels within wheels. This plan is a shorter-term one, though. We’re all taking the train back tomorrow, right?”

“Right.”

This was the idea, or at least what I had been led to believe was the idea. Have a reasonably sedate morning, a fairly substantial ‘farewell’ breakfast and thence back South. Can’t say it hasn’t been an uneventful trip!

“Well I’ll be back in Canterlot for a little bit doin’ some stuff, but after that I say that you and me fucking just get together and a have a fun day of it, eh? I mean, I know kind of a thing about this trip was you getting to see your sister-in-law - kind of the main thing, actually - but now I feel like we ain’t hung out at all! And that just won’t do. So what do you say?”

Figured I wouldn’t gain anything by out-and-out telling Twilight about me going back inside that big brain scanning thing. It’d only worry the poor girl, and she’d done quite enough of that already. And it hardly mattered, besides. It was going to be fine, so why mention it at all?

“What did you have in mind?” She asked. I was happy to see her ears had stopped being so droopy by this point - always a good sign, I’ve learnt. A definite tell with all this lot.

“I hadn’t planned that far ahead. I’m only one man, Twilight, can’t be expected to know all the details. But in theory the plan is good, right?”

“Sure,” she said, smiling.

“Cracking. I’ll cook something up and we can have a grand old time, I’m sure. For now I’ll leave you to it. Five books looks important.”

This I said with a nod to the books, still there, still five of them.

“It’s not that important,” she said in a manner that suggested this was not the whole truth.

Honestly, I couldn’t even hazard a guess. With Twilight it could have been anything.

“Well it’s clearly something or else clever you wouldn’t be doing it. So sayeth I. That, and I’m going to wander aimlessly for a bit and explore until someone tells me off,” I said, hoisting off my lap and replacing her onto the bed before slipping off back to the floor.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She asked, eyebrow raised.

“I’m sure it’s an idea.”

She couldn’t argue with that, especially given that I gave her mane a ruffle before she could respond. Tricks of the trade!

“I’m sure I’ll see you at dinner. Or, if I go somewhere I shouldn’t and get thrown into the dungeon, you can come visit me there.”

“...great,” she said, nonplussed.

“Well someone’ll have to bail me out! Celestia can’t be seen playing favourites, eh?”

A fitting note to end on. I gave her some thumbs up and some finger guns and, grabbing my stick from where I’d left it leaning, backed my way out of the room and into the corridor beyond.

Well, that had been fun. Now! To-

“John?” came a voice from beside me and I whirled, falling back against a wall as my balance went all to cock.

There stood Cadence, looking a little sheepish for having made me jump.

“Ah! Oh! Whoa, sorry, didn’t expect to see you there. Oh, my heart,” I said, hand clutched to my chest.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, just - oh man. One of these days the sneaking up is going to be the death of me. Hi, hello, how you doing?” I asked, straightening up. Leg still doing good! Good job, leg.

“I’m good. You?” She asked, politely, as custom dictated.

“Also good.”

Pause. Awkward pause. There’s no flow with Cadence. Not yet, at least. I just haven’t quite got the measure of her yet. That, and there’s still that nagging suspicion that she’s just putting up with me because I’m a guest. Could just be a result of not having the measure of her yet, though.

I realised then that I was kind of still standing in the way of Twilight’s door. Cadence was presumably coming by for another visit, and I was blocking her. Oops. I stood aside.

“Sorry, was in the way,” I said.

She eyed the door but then looked back to me.

“Actually,” she said. “I was looking for you.”

“Uh, you were?”

“Yes.”

Well that’s a turn up. Genuinely didn’t see that one coming.

“Well. Here I am,” I said. Gave it a little jazz hands, just to spice it up. Got maybe the hint of a smile. That’s something.

“I just thought that we hadn’t really had a proper chance to get to know one another. Though, given how much Twilight talks about you, I kind of feel I know you already.”

Again, another turn up.

“Twilight talks about me? You guys write letters or something?” I asked. Cadence nodded.

“We do. And she does.”

“Huh. Not sure why she would but eh, that’s her lookout. Lovely girl, Twilight. One of several rocks upon which my present, rather delightful circumstances rests. Ah, waffling now. Should we, ah, go somewhere? Or just stand here? Do you think Twilight can hear us?”

My babbling got another hint of a smile - good? - and Cadence raised a hoof to indicate the corridor.

“Would you like me to show you around?” She asked.

“I was just going to walk in a random direction until someone told me to stop so your way would probably work better. After you.”

And so off we went.

You know, really, once you’ve seen one giant, sprawling magical castle you’ve seen them all. And I’ve seen at least two. Still, can’t complain, eh? It’s very impressive stuff all the same. The snowy scenery visible through the occasional window or out over the occasional balcony really added something, I think.

“So I hear that you’re the princess of love? How’s, uh, how’s that work for you? How does that even work?” I asked, just to make conversation, though I had been curious ever since hearing about it.

Love is a complicated concept, after all.

“That would depend. Love is a complicated concept, after all.”

That gave me a jolt. Probably just a coincidence. But, well, you never know these days, do you?

I mean sure last time it all kind of fell apart pretty quick and was kind of weird and unconvincing but maybe she was hustling you, you know? Maybe that was just to make you think that it’d all be like that? All come apart easy? Get you comfortable.

No, no, that’s just paranoia. Come on man, be square, be level. Everything’s fine. It’s done.

I’d stopped walking and it took Cadence a few steps to notice and when she did she turned back to me, perplexed.

“You - heh - y-you can’t read minds, can you?” I asked.

She frowned and said:

“No?”

Relief. It was her look of honest confusion at the question that sold it for me. Umbra couldn’t have been so subtle. Right? Right.

“Ah. Good. Sorry. Just a little paranoid these days,” I said.

Tap wall, tap nearby curtain. Everything checks out. Assuming that even ever worked. No, no! It’s done! Forget it! Fuck! I feel like an idiot.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine! Fine. Sorry. Been a rough patch, heh. Anyway, you were saying? Love? Complicated concept? Something like that?”

I could tell she wasn’t really buying that I was fine - and I was! - but she didn’t make an issue out of it, for which I was grateful.

“Love comes in many and varied forms,” she said and I nodded. This I knew, after all. Four types of love, wasn’t it? Or something. Cadence continued: “Though I have a soft spot for romantic, I’ll admit. I can see compatibility, among other things. Help those in love remember what it was they fell in love for. Stuff like that.”

She said this as though such ‘stuff’ was perfectly everyday. Sounded...nebulous to me. But what did I expect. In magic multicolour pony land, nebulous has weight and heft.

“You can’t make anyone fall in love, right?” I asked.

“No!” She said, aghast. “That’d be barbaric!”

“Yeah, figured that’d be against type for you guys. That’s good. Also something about a shield?” I asked. I had heard it mentioned. She’d been instrumental, I’d heard. Not to mention a bastion of strength.

She actually blushed a little at that.

“Not really it’s intended use but, well, yes that too. With some help from my husband. And the citizens, of course.”

“Of course,” I said, as though I understand what the hell is going on.

Love shield. Sure, why not?

I continued, because I could:

“Friendship is an odd thing to be a princess of, too, but that seems to have a tangible effect on the world around here. Makes sense that love would work the same. Ah! I wouldn’t go so far as to say I envy you lot your fancy-pants powers - there’s no-one I’d rather be than me, after all - but I do find it all fascinating.”

“You do?”

“Of course! I may not be able to remember, well, anything useful about home but I do at least remember that we didn’t have anything as interesting as what you guys have going on. And love was mostly intangible and, while pleasant, lacked the demonstrable effect it can apparently have here. A shame, I’d say,” I said.

At this point in our wanderings we’d reached yet another balcony - how many do you need?! - and I went up to the side to just peer over. We were quite high up! Nice views though, as always. Fabulous scenery. And again with the climate control. Magic’s a trip.

Cadence moved up to stand beside me.

“I’m sure there were good parts,” she said. I shrugged.

“Oh, no doubt no doubt. I just can’t remember them! Hah.”

Again, another of my high-larious jokes did not land the way I intended. What the hell was the matter with everyone these days? Was I the problem? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Making fun of myself is always funny.

Quick! Keep things moving!

“Speaking of remembering,” I said, clearing my throat. “I hear that you used to look after Twilight when she was little, is that right?”

“I used to foalsit her,” Cadence said. I beamed.

I had heard about this, of course, it having been mentioned in passing as the occasion for their knowing one another - and also what had led to Cadence marrying Twilight’s brother, too. His name escaped me. It was just that in hearing about it in passing no-one had used the word ‘foalsit’. For shame!

“Foalsit! Amazing! This place, I tell you. But yes, speaking of remembering, you wouldn’t happen to remember anything possibly maybe just the tiniest, smallest bit embarrassing from such times that I might maybe possibly store away for future use?”

You never know when you might need to blindside someone with an anecdote they didn’t think you knew about. It could come in handy all sorts of times!

Cadence grinned, slyly.

“I might. I couldn’t maybe possibly say,” she said.

Playing coy, eh?

“I’m not asking for anything, you know, devastating. Just maybe something I can use the next time it looks like she might be winning an argument. Which’ll probably be anytime because the damn girl is whipcrack smart. Or, failing that, it’d just amuse me to hear something about what she was like as a nipper. Ooh! Also! You might know her better than I do: what do you reckon would be a good, fun day out?”

Good idea to ask, right? I mean I had ideas, sure, but maybe Cadence had even better ideas!

Cadence looked as if this unexpected swerve was, of all things, unexpected.

“Uh, why?” She asked.

“I figured it’d be a good idea for me and her to have one once this has all settled. Given that, well, things were so unsettled. You know?” I said, gesticulating wildly.

“A day out?”

“Yeah. Like, I don’t know. Picnic or something. Something fun. To unwind. You know?”

You know? Ugh, verbal tics. I’m a mess.

Cadence did not immediately answer. Instead she appeared to be scrutinising me in a way I was thoroughly unaccustomed to.

“You okay there? I feel like I’m missing something,” I said. I really did.

Scrutiny continued a little longer and then Cadence blinked, shook her head, smiled apologetically.

“Sorry,” she said. “Just - nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“You alright?”

My turn to ask! Yes!

She smiled more fully, nodded.

“Totally fine. But now you’ve got a choice,” she said.

Now what was happening?

“I do?” I asked.

“Yep. Either embarrassing stories or day out ideas.”

I let my jaw drop, the better to highlight my shock at this betrayal.

“Gasp! You fiend! Well I never. And to think I was going to put you at number two in my princess rankings.”

“You can’t bribe me,” she said seriously, though still smiling, turning her face away and her nose up. She knew the score. I threw my hands to the sky, the better to look as though I was cursing fate.

“You’re no fun at all!”

Can you even deliver

Author's Note

This was going to be bigger but then I noticed it kind of naturally split in the middle and, really, there's enough waffling that it's probably better split out. And whatever, I can do what I like.

Can you even deliver

And with that we bid a fond farewell to the Crystal Empire.

Seriously, am I missing something? Why is it an empire? Does that word mean something else here? Is Cadence the emperor? Did I just not meet the emperor? Probably would have made more sense if I’d seen a map rather than just the one place everyone kept calling the empire.

Nevermind. I’m sure someone knows what the deal is. That’s the important thing. I’m probably wrong.

The train back was not the most thrilling of affairs. I had briefly wondered whether travelling with such an abundance of royalty would have meant fancier way back and was actually glad this wasn’t the case. I have nothing against trains.

I spent the journey sandwiched between Celestia on the window seat and Twilight nearest the aisle. I could certainly think of worse places to be, especially later on as the sun started dipping and everything started getting dark - sidebar: I do still often forget that it is my girlfriend doing that, and from a moving train in this instance no less! - and both of them ended up snoozing on me.

That was probably one of the better things that’s happened to me recently. Or maybe even ever. Twilight kind of just flopped across my lap, Celestia halfway draped kind of on my shoulders but mostly on my head. Kind of messy, yes, but still the best. I mean really I could have stayed like that forever if I had to.

But I did not have to, and we did eventually arrive back home. Uh, Canterlot, rather. Which I guess is a kind of home.

I expected Twilight to carry on back to Ponyville but she disembarked as well, to my surprise.

“Getting off a little early aren’t you?” I asked her and she shuffled sheepishly, smiling.

“Oh you know. Just in case,” she said.

Didn’t answer a whole lot.

“Just in case what?”

“Just in case, uh, you need me?” She ventured. Seemed as good an answer as any to me. Or, at least, the look on her little face was such that pushing it didn’t seem the right thing to do. She meant well. Lovely girl, Twilight.

After that things got kind of blurry. Not that I wasn’t paying attention, just a lot of stuff happened that wasn’t especially interesting. Celestia had to dash off to do, oh, lots of things probably and so I was just left to my own devices. Glad Twilight was around, then, because that meant I could hang out with her. Which I did.

And that was about it. Just passing the time, knowing that sooner or later I was going to be getting a proper look at. Like some sort of examination-based Sword of Damocles.

Bet there’s a horse-based version of that somewhere...should ask Twilight sometime…

Anyway. It was mostly just me and her sat around making increasingly awkward small talk waiting for whatever it was that was going to happen next. And what happened next was, a touch before dinnertime, Celestia coming back, and bringing company.

For indeed beside her stood Doctor Knacker, looking much as I remembered him. Although in the time since the last, uh, time he appeared to have singed off an eyebrow. Must have happened recently. It did little to dim his obvious, naked enthusiasm for life which was written clear across his face.

“Ah. You again. Fabulous. Doing good, Doctor?” I asked. He nodded with great energy. Most people’s heads would have fallen off - not-so Doctor Knacker.

“Doing well and doing good, yes-yes! And how is the subject?”

“Shouldn’t that be ‘patient’?” Twilight asked, frowning. Doctor Knacker nodded some more, even more violently.

“Both work!”

Colour me reassured.

“Are you ready?” Celestia asked softly, looking at me. Ach, the soft tone always gives me shivers. Least she’s not whispering in my ear on this one, though the look on her face is doing the works, too. I nodded.

So off we went. Again, always amazes me how big the castle is. Palace? One of those. As a very regal group - well, even split, really - we made our way around and around into a fractionally-less ostentatious area wherein which Doctor Knacker had set up his extensive aparatus.

His whole kind of rivets-and-bolts mad science nonsense really clashed with the aesthetic.

“Surprised this is ready and waiting,” I said, nodding to the huge morass of machinery that was taking up most of the room we’d ended up in.

“I messaged ahead,” Celestia said. That kind of made sense. She’s a very on-the-ball lady, my lady.

“Ah. Clever. Can see why you’re in charge.”

“Half in charge,” she said, giving me a bump.

“Oops, yes.”

The MARE looked more-or-less the same, or at least more-or-less how I remembered it looking. Though had it been that large last time? Couldn’t quite remember. Still about the most intimidating looking piece of equipment it’s even been my misfortune to be put inside.

Already Doctor Knacker was zipping about between this and that console, flipping switches, checking dials and also easing out the part on which I would be laying down. I swallowed.

“Now, not to be a stick in the mud or anything but I do kind of remember it being mentioned last time that using this thing on me again could have potentially lethal consequences? You know, if you had a good look with it. Which I’m guessing you kind of have to right now,” I said, loud enough to get the good doctor’s attention.

I did recall something like that being said. Then again, Umbra had managed to all-but magically climb inside my head without killing me, so who knew? Maybe anything was possible in this brave new world.

Doctor Knacker paused in his zipping about long enough to look entirely unfazed by my question and reply:

“We will be the most careful, yes-yes? Have no fear! Have made many refinements to the MARE! Adjustments, yes-yes? Very complicated! Delicate!”

Who wouldn’t feel safe?

I turned to Celestia and Twilight who were stood side-by-side, looking considerably more worried than I probably did. Well, Twilight looked worried, Celestia had that unflappable and unrattled princess face on which, honestly, was actually worse. It’s kind of disquieting seeing her like that.

“Well I trust him,” I said, giving them both a thumbs up.

“As long as you’re sure,” Celestia said, and her voice had almost - but not quite completely - the same rock-solid aspect that her face did. Twilight just sniffed. Goddamnit why not just stab me in the heart, guys? Didn’t you hear the doctor? He’s made adjustments. Adjustments!

And wasn’t this your idea anyway, Celestia?

Ugh, people. I ask you.

Figuring it’d be a good idea - and also because, you know, I like doing it - I gave the pair of them a hug. And then for good measure hugged them both at the same time because I’m a madman and no-one can stop me. Then it was moving over to present myself to Doctor Knacker.

“Alright,” I said. “Where do you want me? Here?”

It was indeed where I was pointing that he wanted me.

I remain less than a fan of confined spaces. Is a pony meant to fit in here? How?!

There followed a lot of lying still, unsettling clunking sounds and a lot more lying still on top of that. And a slight headache. And kind of a tingling feeling. Was that normal? Best not to worry about it.

On the plus side though I didn’t die. I do always like it when that happens.

An awful long time later the weirdo gurney thingy I was lying on was withdrawn and I, groaning, swung up into sitting and stretched out, rolling my neck about. In the time it took for me to work some feeling back into my limbs the three of them - Twilight, Knacker and Celestia - had gathered in a little row in front of me.

Is that a good sign?

“Alright, what’s up?” I asked. There was some nervous shifting around. That’s always a good sign, that. Doctor Knacker pretty obviously wanted to come tearing right at it but a quiet, firm look from Celestia actually got him to be quiet. Seemed like it was something she herself wanted to say, but was building up.

That’s usually the sort of thing that happens with bad news. Kind of wished she’d just put me out of my misery at this point.

Finally, she spoke.

“Umbra has...repaired the damage your mind suffered but has partitioned off the repaired sections,” she said. It was impossible to tell from her tone what her opinion of this was. And it was impossible to tell what the hell this meant.

What?

Blink.

“She’s done what?”

There followed an explanation. A slow one, thankfully, but one that still left me feeling, ah, unsettled and unsure. How I understood it - though not how it was strictly explained to me - was something rather like this:

My brain was a house, say. A jumbled, falling-down mess of a house with all the doors locked and every room basically turned upside and in disarray. That’s what me arriving here had done, that’s all the damage and stuff. Right?

And I’ve been living in the storm porch, sometimes peeking through the letterbox but otherwise kept out. I can peek, yeah, and if I really want I can try and stick my hand in to get something but that hurts and doesn’t really get me anywhere. Right?

What Umbra had done, apparently, was organise every room, fix the place up, tidy it, clean it and then leave every door unlocked and open except the front door, which was on the latch, so to speak. Closed, but unlocked. If I opened it, it would all be there for me. I’d have the run of the place.

Which was exactly what I had not wanted her to do!

Why?! Why had she done that?! Why hadn’t she told me she’d done that?! Was this is a trick or a trap or what? Or a present? Was this the thing to remember her by?!

There wouldn’t be any coming back from opening that figurative door!

It’s like - fuck - it’s - fuck!

Okay, continue the metaphor. I’m living the storm porch but I’ve also built my own new place, right? Built the opposite direction to the old house, which was the old me, right? I built a new me out of whatever I had to hand. Bits and pieces I had to hand, put together the way that seemed best at the time. Whole new place.

That’s me! That’s who I am!

I open that front door and the new me falls down. Just blown away. Right? That’s gone! Just old me again. And even if it doesn’t fall down - so to speak - it’s still different, yeah? Radically! I’ll be looking at it from inside the old house! Or standing between the two? It’ll - fuck! I can’t even begin to imagine what that would even be like!

And no going back, either! Can’t unring that bell!

Oh fuck! Why would she do that?! Why would she put that in my head?! This fucking feather-pull trigger to possible existential oblivion?!

I like me! I like me now! Me now is doing alright! John is doing alright!

“So you’re telling me,” I said, once the explanation had finished and once the rushing of blood in my ears had receded somewhat. “That you could, hypothetically, just magically nudge the right spot and - whoomph - it all comes back?”

“Yes-yes!” Doctor Knacker said, nodding the way someone who wants to do it right-this-second might nod. He’d been practically falling over himself with giddiness during the more technical parts of the explanation where Celestia had passed things over to him.

Honestly, I had really been kind of hoping he’d say no-no there. It being an easy thing to do just made me feel more uncomfortable. Less of an excuse not to make a decision.

“John? Are you okay?”

Who’d said that? Oh yes. Celestia. I recognised the voice. Oh me, I’m losing track of things!

“Fine, fine. I just - just need a sit down for a second.”

“You are sitting down.”

“Am I?” I asked, and I looked and I was. At no point had I stood up. “Oh, heh, so I am. Silly me. Heh. Fancy that.”

“Evil queen also fixed your leg!” Doctor Knacker blurted, apparently unable to restrain himself any longer and earning himself a sharp look from both princesses. Not that he seemed to mind. He clearly thought it was worth it.

“She what?” I asked.

“Your leg! She fixed it! All good, yes-yes? No limping! Try it! Try it!”

“I really don’t feel like doing a couple circuits of the room right this second, sorry to - hey, hang about…”

There are - or were, it seemed - several spots on my leg that, even on the better days, it had been best not to touch. Spots that got a reaction. I was experimentally kneading those spots then, just because. And nothing was happening. No twitches, no clenches, no sharp stabbing pains. Leg was fine. Utterly fine.

I stretched it out. No problems at all. Not so much as a tremor.

“Holy shit you’re right,” I said. Then, spur of the moment, held up my hand. Solid as a rock. Could have cut a fucking diamond with it. “The hand too. Look at it! What did she do?!”

“John, shh, calm down. It’s alright, you’re alright,” Celestia said, stepping in closer to me.

Calm down?! Why was she telling me to calm down?! I was calm! Totally -

Oh, wait. I hadn’t noticed that time. Oops. Got the best of me there. I’m not doing too well, am I?

“Heh, suppose I should be freaking out less about this, shouldn’t I? I mean, objectively speaking it’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I asked, casual.

Kind of felt a little like a violation but maybe that’s just me being odd.

On the one hand I didn’t exactly enjoy limping everywhere and falling over and all that. But on the other, uh, well, would have been nice if she’d asked first. You know?

Ah well. John only pawn in game of life.

Celestia stepped in in front of me. I could tell it was her because even though I was mostly just staring blankly at the floor she was kind of easy to recognise.

“Are you alright, John?” She asked.

Again with the name! Ack!

I looked up to fix her with my best ‘Still totally fine’ smile. I don’t think it came out how I hoped though.

She’d dropped the look of unflappable detachment by this point, and now concern was etched across every inch of her face. I wish she didn’t look at me like that. I wish she was smiling instead. I wish she didn’t worry about me.

I recovered my smile and shifted it into my best ‘I am an unstoppable force’ expression. I have a lot of these, or so I like to think. With that firmly in place I gently took her by the muzzle and gave her a kiss on the nose. It was the only bit I could easily reach.

“Just taking a moment to sink in. That’s all,” I said.

“If you’re sure.”

Was I sure? Good question. No idea. Didn’t really want to think about it. Ideally I’d like to avoid the subject entirely for a bit, just gloss over what had happened. I’ll deal with it later.

Time for a diversion! I leapt to my feet, startling all present, clapping my hands together.

“Can we - is anyone hungry? It’s dinner, right? Can we do that?” I asked.

Seamless!

Con Te Partirò

Author's Note

This is basically the zenith and apex of cod-philosophical wanky navel-gazing bullshit and I'm kind of really tired right now so I've no idea how it all hangs together but I think this needs to get back to its' core strengths of more cuddles.

Yes. Should get on that. So let's draw a line under this.

Con Te Partirò

Doctor Knacker did not attend dinner, which was something. Luna, by contrast, did, which was also something. I must admit I’d rather missed her. I even got a smile and a hug out of her! Rare and unexpected.

Things kind of went downhill from there, though.

If I thought that hanging around making small talk with Twilight had been awkward - whoo! Dinner was a doozy! It was like someone had died!

Was that my fault? Was that their fault? Did I need to do something? Even Luna seemed miserable! Everyone kept glancing at me as though they were worried that if they looked too hard I might crack in half.

Ugh. It was like after Umbra all over again. People on eggshells. Not a fan - not a fan at all! I’m a big boy now. Can dress myself and everything. Don’t need everyone worrying about me. I’m fine. Just - just things are a little different now is all.

Either way made the meal take for-ev-er and once it was finally wrapped up Celestia and Luna were off to converse about something-or-other, who knew what.

Actually, tell a lie, I do know what they were talking about - Celestia explained it to me after giving me a quick peck and apology for leaving me to go and do it: it was kind of a catch-up thing. Covering some of the finer points of what she had not been present for on account of my...thing.

Thought they’d done that already. Oh well!

Left me and Twilight. Which isn’t a bad thing. Left me and Twilight and also me and my thoughts. Which isn’t as good. I tried to exhaust my thoughts by pacing, but this only made my thoughts worse.

For a while Twilight was content to sit quietly and pretend she wasn’t watching me with concern but this could only last so long and she cracked and asked:

“Are you alright?”

I should start charging for being asked that question. I’d really clean up.

Suppose if there was any time in my life to be asked it though it would be now.

I’m being torn apart by philosophical quandaries! Like I am every other day these days! Questions with no easy answers! Responsibility landing in my lap! No guidance at all! No obvious indication of what I should do!

“I’m fine,” I said, apparently not convincingly enough for Twilight who saw through me in a heartbeat.

“You keep saying that but I really don’t think it’s true,” she said.

I was going to say something snappy and witty as a comeback here but I came up empty so just stood like a lemon instead with my mouth open and my finger held up in front of me. Once it became obvious that I had nothing I managed to shut my mouth at least, and then clasped both hands behind my back to hide my fingers.

That didn’t work out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Twilight asked.

“Heh, hah. That’s probably not a good idea. If I start I might not stop!” I said, resuming pacing.

Normally what goes on in my head is fairly voluminous, but I like to think I keep a pretty tight lid on it as regards any of it escaping my mouth. Purely out of concern for others, you understand. No-one deserves that.

The great thing about philosophical twaddle or at least one of my favourite things about it is that, at the end of the day, no-one was going to pop up and tell you how well you scored. Or probably not, at least. I mean, someone could, but at if that’s the case you got other problems, really.

Point is, you can think yourself in circles for hours without actually getting anywhere and still feel like you’ve achieved something. Or that’s my excuse at least. But then I like thinking about nothing to avoid my actual problems, so I’m hardly a reliable source. Hah!

And you can do all of that from the comfort of your own skull without anyone being the wiser, and as well you should.

Inside my head? Fine. Pouring it out on others? That’s just selfish. What sort of monster would I be to subject people to my undiluted thoughts? Who could sit through that? Who would sit there and subject themselves to that? What would they think of me! They’d have opinions, I bet.

“If you think it’d help to talk about it I think you should,” Twilight said, firmly.

I stopped pacing to actually, properly look at her to see if she was pulling my leg. There she sat in one of the chairs in the room we’d ended up in - what room was this, anyway? So many rooms… - appearing to be entirely sincere.

“You sure about that?” I asked with raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” she said, also firmly, nodding, very serious look on her face.

Adorable.

Well, she quite literally asked for it. Moving on over I dropped to one knee by her chair so I didn’t have to talk across half the room. Also: really easy dropping to one knee now. That’s going to take some getting used to.

“To be straight with you Twilight,” I said, resting an arm on the armest, appropriately enough. “I’m kind of freaking out a little bit.”

“Why?” She asked, more in the ‘I am here to listen please outline your issue’ sort of a why than a ‘kid asking why the sky is blue’ sort of a way. I can appreciate that.

I tried to get all my ducks in a row for the best explanation. Clearly I failed though as what came out instead was this breathless tumble:

“It was just that, you know, the idea of getting this stuff back was a complete non-starter before because it could have killed me, right? That was the kind of the stopper. So I didn’t have to worry about it. It was a non-issue. They were all there somewhere, my- that guy’s old things, but getting at them carried the risk of killing me. So we didn’t bother. Right?”

“Okay…”

I don’t know why she sounded so uncertain she knew this. I swivelled about to get a better angle. Face-on was best for this. Also meant I could gesticulate more easily. Gesticulation is important.

“It’s true! We all agreed on this! We were all there! So it just became a philosophical exercise! Does the person I am now stop existing if I suddenly remember who I was before? Do I become that guy again? Or some new, third guy, the culmination of the two? How would my old memories change how I feel about the ones I’ve made sense being here? We’re the product of our experiences, right? Would the new experiences - uh, old, the old ones...which would be new to me right now, fuck - change how I thought about my time here? I’d have all this extra experience to look at the same things through. Would I feel the same? Would I feel completely different? Something would have to happen. Wouldn’t that change me? You know? Right?”

“John, I think you need to calm down.”

I could be calm for days it wouldn’t solve anything this wasn’t going away.

And what’s with the using the name! Was she taking lessons from Celestia now?

“I can’t though! This is an issue! Before it was just a, you know, it was a thought experiment, a hypothetical, something we couldn’t do but I could fucking navel-gaze about. And I did! And I came to neat, happy conclusions all underscored by the nice, solid knowledge that it was all moot anyway. Couldn’t happen. Now it’s a possibility! Fuck that, it’s not even a possibility - it’s right there! It’s right there! We could just do it! No risk! No effort! Pop! All back in place! But what would that do to me?!”

“John-”

“Would it be bad?! Good? Indifferent? Should I? Shouldn’t I? I don’t know! There’s no right answers here! No wrong answers either! It’s just a choice! And my choice, no-one else’s. Can’t put it off, can I? It’ll always just be there. And inaction is a kind of action here! Choosing to do nothing is a choice, just like it always is! It might be the wrong thing to do, mightn’t it! Keeping that guy locked up and dead selfishly. Or whatever. So not doing anything for years might be years of doing the wrong thing! Something I’d have to live with. I’m living with it right now and it’s doing my fucking nut! That guy is in there! I’m out here! Should I be? Should I let him out? Is he me? Will it even be him coming out, given that we’ll kind of...mash together, yeah? What would happen?! I don’t know!”

“John!”

She shouted that one, and I only then noticed how flushed and out of breath my ranting had left me. Oh dear. Should probably turn that down a notch. How embarrassing!

“I’ll get Celestia,” she said, making to squeeze past me and dismount the chair. My hand moved without a whole lot of input from my brain - which wasn’t a whole lot of use right then anyway! - and landed on her hoof, which forestalled this.

“Please don’t leave me alone Twilight. I’ll - I’ll be quiet just don’t leave me right now. Thank you. Unless you want to, of course,” I said. Or croaked, given that my raving had somewhat dried me out.

And good job avoiding mixed messages on that one, jackass.

Still, it did work. Twilight stopped in her efforts to go off and get Celestia and instead settled back into the seat again, taking the hand that had clutched at her in both her hooves. Lovely girl, Twilight.

“I’m here,” she said. Which I could see. But still, nice of her. I swallowed. Wished I had a drink.

“Sorry. That all got rather away from me. It’s just sort of been stewing for a bit. It’s a point of concern. Heh, we’ve had this whole conversation before, I think? Last time I went in that machine. Remember?”

Technically speaking I think the conversation happened before I went in, but still. More-or-less correct.

“I do,” Twilight said.

“You’d have thought I’d have been better prepared given the time I’ve had since then. More fool me, eh? I suppose someone with a sliver more competence and sense would be right on top of this.”

She gave my hand enough of a squeeze to get my attention and I could see the serious look back on her face again. A particular type of serious I recognised, too.

“Don’t do yourself down like that. I don’t like it.”

That type of serious. Celestia did that, too, sometimes.

“Sorry. Again. Just... I am worried about the - “ I struggled for the right word here and came up with nothing I could use. Metaphysical? Existential? Philosophical? All very high-falutin’ but none clicked right. In the end I capped off with “ - implications. Of this.”

Which wasn’t wrong. But did sound pretty lame.

“You’re worried that if you choose to get back your memories you’ll change?” She asked.

Actually kind of hit the nail on the head with that one. Summed it up nicely.

“Succinctly put. Uh, basically, yeah.”

I mean there was some nuance she wasn’t covering here but who had time for nuance?

Twilight gave my hand another squeeze, this one of a more comforting aspect. She also smiled, which was immensely comforting if we’re going to start putting these things on a scale. I give it a ten. Out of a number that might also top out at ten.

“You’ll still be you,” she said.

Ugh. So much for discarding nuance...

“Maybe. Probably. Heh, most likely. But who is me, you know?”

“You’re you, John,” Twilight said, in what I expect she thought was supportive manner but which really, really didn’t help me.

I think the issue here - I think - was that everyone else has it in their heads that the John they know in the here-and-now and the other guy who was presently locked away in my brain are two halves of the same person, like there was some sort of continuation between the two. That they could just click together without a problem because, well, why wouldn’t they? Same person, right? Just with a little gap in the middle. What’s the issue?

If you look at it like that I can see why it might not be that big of a deal. Maybe.

But, uh, in my head these are two entirely separate people. Whether that’s right or what I have no idea, but that’s how I’m looking at it. John - me - was pulled together from scraps in a world he knew nothing about and has ended up like this. I’ve just sort of stumbled my way through things, doing my best. And arrived here.

John made the best of a bad job with no history, no context and no prior experience other than what weird bits bubbled up from time to time.

The other guy had, you know, however many years of life back home doing who-knows-what. He started as a child, got that whole experience. Got to be a teenager, got that part too. Adulthood. Everything that goes with all of this. That’s a whole heaping helping of life experience that I was not personally privy to. That’s the kind of thing that gives people worldviews and opinions.

Point is, they are not the same person. They are two different people.

Similar, maybe. I’ll grant that I’ve probably picked up a few things from the guy so we might have some common ground but so what? I have common ground with lots of people. Doesn’t mean I want to pour the contents of their head into my skull and shake it about to see what happens.

I don’t know. I don’t know, man. I could be coming at it wrong. I could be worrying over nothing. Or I could be worrying way less than I should be. How would I know?

If anything John’s probably the squatter. The other guy was here first, right? He’s been there the whole time just scrambled up and locked away. Now he’s all sorted out and ready to go only John is sitting on him. Kind of a dick move, John.

Talking about myself in the third person is weird. Especially since I’m talking about another version of myself. Yes, yes I’ll admit that. It’s best to admit that the other guy is me. Let’s take that as read. He is me, me is he. No basis for it other than guesswork but let’s just go with it. He is me.

I just remain concerned about what will happen when he and I meetup. So to speak.

The most catastrophic thing that could happen would be something like it turning out that he - that I was some sort of raving mass-murderer in my former life. That would be unfortunate on numerous levels, least of which pissing a perfectly good chance at a blissful new life up a wall and then just getting worse from there.

Can’t imagine I’d leap right back into the murdering in such a case, but maybe that’s just because all that’s kept safely away? Maybe once we’re reunited - and it feels so good - the murdering will make absolute sense and I’ll damn myself as a fool for ever having stopped.

Unlikely...

But that was at the extreme end. Unlikely, like I say. Possible! But unlikely. Such people were pretty rare, all things considered. Far more likely he - I - would just turn out to be some guy with a history of some stuff. Nothing that interesting. Whole lot of life with not a whole lot to show for it. Probably.

And then that guy and this guy - me - would mash together and...annihilate? Integrate? Reject? Make something new? Have a nervous breakdown? I don’t know.

Clearly where I was standing on this was not where everyone else was standing. How to bridge that gap? A mystery. Sometimes you’ll just never see eye-to-eye. Suppose that’s life.

Got to try though, don’t you?

“I am indeed John but, ah, well, I am somewhat concerned as to the survival of John-as-we-know-him. As it were. You know?” I asked.

“Not really?”

Good start. I brought my other hand in to rest on top of her hooves. We had a real thing going on there, now. Presumably a good thing.

I took a breath and tried to pour my brain-words into Twilight’s ears. So to speak:

“Leave aside the possibility that, you know, I did something awful back before, let’s just forget that for now. Let’s just take for example that I got something else going on up here that I suddenly find out about. Like, uh, it turns out I’m married. I have a family. I got kids or something. That’ll change a lot, won’t it?”

What a terrifying thought! Not that I’m scared of families or wives as a rule. It’s just - what a change! How I approached and thought of everything would surely change, no? And it wouldn’t just be academic, I’d feel it all! It’d all be true! True facts! Not anything I could shrug off. Serious stuff in my mind!

Apparently not so much so in Twilight’s, as she said emphatically:

“But it won’t change you.”

I pulled my hands back and rubbed my face. This was going nowhere fast.

Presumably this is the sort of thing that led Umbra to figure it was just better to tell people what they were thinking. I can see the logic, but I can’t sympathise, really. Life would be a lot less interesting. Lot less frustrating, too, but still. That and, you know, horrific violation of a person’s most private places and autonomy. But that’s a given. Everything’s a give and take.

And here I’d given all I felt I could. Time to cut my losses and agree to disagree.

“I suppose not,” I said through my hands. I felt Twilight’s hoof on my elbow, supportive-like.

“Whatever you decide I’ll support you. I’m sure Celestia will, too. We all will, all of us. You know that, don’t you?” She said. God she sounded sincere. Ponies are the best.

Well, as far as I know at least. I certainly like them. Give me the warm fuzzies they do.

Some more than others...

“Yeah, yeah I know,” I said, again through my fingers.

“And you’ll always be you. At least to me,” Twilight said.

That was kind of confusing. Frowning, I leant away from my hands and tried to count this off on my fingers. Me me, you, me...me?

“This is getting kind of convoluted,” I said.

Twilight frowned as well.

“Yeah…”

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Celestia said, appearing out of thin-fucking-air. And not even in a teleporting sense! She was just suddenly there!

How does she do that?!

Twilight practically leapt out of her chair and would have hit the floor had I not caught her. As surprised as I was I had to admit to being a little gratified that I wasn’t the only one Celestia could make jump.

“Hey Twilight, you’re a princess ain’t you? How come you can’t do that sneaking around thing?” I asked.

“I - what?” She asked breathlessly, plainly still recovering. Celestia just tutted.

“You can’t imply that my skills aren’t unique,” she said.

“Ah, not a princess thing is it? Just a you thing?” I asked, popping Twilight back onto her chair. Celestia held a hoof to her chest proudly and said:

“Finely honed by myself through years of practise. Accept and expect no substitutes.”

It is a chest, right? Horse words…

Celestia then smiled apologetically at me.

“Sorry that took so long. Who knew I’d miss so much? I’d always thought two months wasn’t a long time in politics,” she said.

“You should complain. About the passage of time.”

Tapping a hoof to her chin she made a big show of considering this.

“You’re right, I should. Who’s in charge around here?”

“You. Partly.”

More chin tapping.

“Ah. I’ll be writing myself a very strongly-worded letter in which case, and I’ll copy in Luna too, just to be thorough. Tomorrow though,” she said, nodding in an assertive and affirmative manner. I also nodded in such a manner, for we were obviously in agreement on this very serious matter.

“Yeah, good idea to sleep on it first,” I said.

“What is happening…” Twilight mumbled from her seat, looking from me to Celestia and back again in abject confusion. I think it was getting a little late for her, poor thing. I gave her a pat on the head and a quick scratch behind the ears which seemed to help.

“I think bedtime is happening,” I said, looking to Celestia for backup on this.

“It might be a good idea,” she said.

Same wavelength, baby. She knows what I’m about. Mostly.

Twilight found no opposition to bedtime. There was a room for her already, apparently, and she seemed to know where it was so was off on her way following hugs and goodnights and then it was just me and Celestia wandering off to our own bed.

By which I mean, er, her bed. Ahem.

As much as I would have liked Celestia and me to have kept up some more easy, breezy banter this did not happen for whatever reason and instead we plodded along to her room in ever-so-slightly uncomfortable silence. The natural result of this was, obviously, more thinking.

Argh!

I’m me, I’m me! It’s a me I’ve had to put together, sure, but the pieces were there already and I think I did a pretty good job getting them all to fit. I’m not perfect, sure, but I’m happy, right? And that’s what counts. Right?

But there’s another, real you. You just don’t know it. You don’t want to see him, so you just keep avoiding him subconsciously. Because he might not be human in shape. Because the person you have been up until now might disappear. You’re afraid that who you are will vanish. You’re afraid that you’ll disappear from everyone’s hearts.

Afraid? Why would I be afraid?

Your own personal world would disappear, too. It means you would disappear.

As thrilling as this all is I can’t help but feel as though I’ve heard it before, somewhere else. In another language? And it’s not helpful anyway. In fact a lot of that is kind of gibberish, to put it bluntly, and not a whole lot of it applies to me anyway. I’m still no closer to an answer.

Sigh.

And it’s not as if you can really talk to anyone about it. You tried that with Twilight! Didn’t go very well, did it? Clearly this is beyond your capabilities to properly explain. Which doesn’t surprise me. It’s as much something you’re just feeling as it is something you’re actually comprehending. And that’s tricky to put into words.

I’m so tired. Why can’t I have normal problems? Like erectile dysfunction. Then at least I could just yell at my penis. How much easier would that be?

“What are you thinking?” Celestia asked out of the blue and I flinched.

“Uh. Lots of things,” I said. Not a lie.

“Anything you’d like to talk to me about?” She asked, gently.

Probably not the erectile dysfunction thing. Difficult to explain and not really relevant. Uh. Anything else? I hate it when people ask me this because my brain just empties out. Think, think…

Aha! Idea! Out of nowhere! But a good one.

“I’ve got it!” I said, beaming all of a sudden. Celestia caught some of this too and smiled, little bit of excitement showing in her features.

“You’ve decided what you’re going to do?” She asked.

“Yes! Well, kind of. How about we just use magic to just undo what she did? Break it again,” I said.

I’m a genius!

The smile did not last, neither did the hint of excitement. Instead she now just looked confused.

“Um…”

Okay that one didn’t land as well as it could have but I have others!

“Ooh! Or maybe just cut those bits out completely. Or scoop them out if that works better. One of the two. I mean, something’ll probably fill the void.”

Nature does abhor a vacuum, after all.

We’d stopped walking at this point and Celestia was just staring at me, mouth hanging open the tiniest bit. This she noticed after a couple seconds and so closed it.

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea. Even if we could do it, which I’m not sure about,” she said.

“But magic though,” I protested, and Celestia raised an eyebrow.

“There are limits to magic, John.”

“Could have fooled me, lady who moves the sun…” I grumbled.

A moment. Then:

“John, when was the last time you went to sleep?”

That’s a subject change! Not cool! And she keeps using my name! Argh! That means she thinks I’m acting up! I’m not acting up! I’m fine!

“I - I’m sure it wasn’t as long ago as you think it was. Yesterday? Probably. I can’t remember. But I’m not tired.”

I really couldn’t, actually. Weird. Guess I’d been distracted! Hah!

“Hmm. Come here.”

This she said in that very particular, very soft tone of voice that just bypassed any defence or rationality or anything else I might ever have hoped to mount. Immediately I moved in closer. Her wings spread, enclosed me, and things were very soft and warm all of a sudden.

“You’re okay,” she said in the same tones, though now much nearer and so infinitely better. “You’re okay. I know this is a lot but you need to stop tying yourself in knots about it. You’ll always have me, no matter what. I’ll always love you. Okay?”

Ach. Those words. And that word in particular. Cuts right through me. All that faff I’d been filling my head up with, trimmed away. I mean, not really all of it, but enough to feel as though a weight was being lifted. How does she do that? Maybe I’m just easy.

“Okay,” I said, thickly. Wasn’t a whole lot else I could say.

The hug broke. We had a moment. A real staring-into-the-eyes moment.

Then another thought occurred to me, out of the blue:

“Oh yeah also, that reminds me - you should really look into some of the holes in your security. Umbra was able to just pull and copy the last report of my brain scan thingy.”

Celestia blinked at me.

“...what?”

“Well that’s what she told me. Has eyes and ears everywhere, she said,” I said.

“...you probably could have brought this to my attention earlier, John.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“I was picking my moment?” I ventured. Could be believable?

She sighed, put a hoof to her face.

“I will look into this. And don’t think you can change the subject that easily,” she said, giving me a gentle jab in the chest.

“I would never!” I protested.

A hard look from Celestia and I found myself shuffling my feet and looking at the floor.

“I might. But I didn’t just now! I honestly just remember that part. Really. Sorry. Uh, I could tell you something relevant instead?” I asked. Celestia, suspicious, leaned in closer, eyeing me intently. Maybe a little too intently.

“Go on,” she said.

I swallowed.

“To put it, uh, mildly, there are a few issues I’m concerned about vis, you know, the stuff in my head. Not going to go into them in depth because I did that with Twilight already and I feel guilty enough for unloading. But just to kind of cut to the bit that might be the top ranking concern I - fuck, rambling,” I took a breath, girded my loins and spat out the real crux of the matter as I saw it:

“I’m worried that if I did get all those memories back it would change the way I feel about you. There. Said it.”

A lot harder to say out loud than it was to just imagine saying it out loud.

I really didn’t know how she would take what I’d said and was kind of worried, honestly, but when I look from my feet to gauge her reaction I found her smiling again, albeit kind of...sadly? I don’t know. Kind of made me melt in the guts.

“John, I’m not - and I shouldn’t be - the only thing in your life,” she said.

“You’re not. Heh, said that a little quick didn’t I? No, I mean, you’re not, I do have more. I have other things I do, I have other buddies - look at Twilight! That’s not what I was saying though. I just - you’re a big part and a part I like and I am, ah, terrified that that’ll go away somehow. Not that you’ll go, obviously, but that - that I’ll change in a way that has you pushed away somehow. I don’t know how. It just scares me.”

I was now wringing my hands and fidgeting because I was not kidding that thought really did scare me. She was a big part of my life right now! I had other stuff, sure, but she was the Goddamn bedrock, my fixed point. I fucking loved her and I didn’t want that taken away from me or diluted or fiddled with, damnit.

Using a wing she gently pulled me in to give me a kiss on the forehead. Very nice.

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. It is entirely up to you,” she said.

Kind of the problem, Celestia! But I get what you mean.

“I know, I know. It’s just the more I think about it the more it kind of gets obvious that there’s only one way forward from this. To me, at least. And it’s the only obvious way and I’m just getting tangled up in the worrying about it.”

Over thinking, over analysing separates the body from the mind. Withering my intuition, leaving opportunities behind. Sounds about right.

“Do you want to do it?” Celestia asked.

“Hah! No. Yes. I don’t know. I don’t really want to do anything. Ideally I’d just stay in a big bed with you forever in some kind of eternal stasis and never have to worry about anything but, heh, that’s unlikely. And this isn’t going away and I’m hardly going to be able to ignore it forever so...yeah…”

Just do it. Just do it. If you don’t you’ll spend every other moment from here on out wondering whether you made the right choice or not. Just do it, you fuck!

I mean, you could still wonder whether you’d made the right choice or not even if you do do it too but, uh, well…

No. No. It has to happen. Has to. No other way. Right?

Right?

Right.

“This whole issue has been the millstone around my neck and the elephant in my own personal room since pretty much the moment I woke up. Or the moment I found out about my mixed-up brain at least,” I said. “Need to draw a line under it. Only one way to do that. Only one proper way. The other way is a life of active blissful ignorance - the worst kind. No. Got to open up that door, get it all going. Let the other guy out.”

Man am I hamming it up! Well, when else will I have a chance like this?

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Not in the slightest. But if you’ve got time to think twice you’ve, uh…”

I didn’t actually have the foggiest idea of what I’d been meaning to say there.

“Point is action is required. Yes,” I said, pounding a fist into my palm. That means action!

“It’s up to you, John. In the morning we-”

“No, no I might have bottled it by then. Sooner the better. Doctor Knacker doesn’t seem the sort to need sleep. We can just go and see him, right?”

I figured he must have some sort of magical brain poking machine lying around somewhere, even if it was just a prototype. Celestia bit her lip.

“Actually, you wouldn’t need to…” she said.

“Oh?”

“No. I could do it. It really wouldn’t take a lot. It’s just a question of a nudge in the right place.”

Not really what I’d expected to hear. But that’s magic for you. It’s a mugs game.

“Like, are we talking the magical equivalent of a stiff breeze here?” I asked. Celestia nodded, now just chewing on her lip through what was obviously nervousness.

“Pretty much. A stiff breeze in the right place, but still.”

Like, are we talking that if I’d decided against it I might have just caught some random magic to the head one day and it happened anyway? Or not? Didn’t Umbra leave notes somewhere? She could have at least inscribed some fucking instructions on the inside of my skull. Right now we’re just guessing!

Damnit Umbra!

“What the hell was she playing at…” I grumbled. I didn’t need to name Umbra outloud for Celestia to get who I was talking about. Wavelength again, bro.

“Maybe you should ask one of her eyes and or ears. They could ask her for you,” she said.

That’s a sobering thought.

“Maybe let’s just leave it a mystery. Anyway, enough distractions. You say you can do it?” I asked, rubbing my hands, setting my feet shoulder-width apart. No wobble!

“I could. If you wanted,” Celestia said.

“I do I do let’s go let’s go, I’m fired up. Right here in the corridor?”

“Right here in the corridor, if you want. I’d advise against it, myself.”

“You would?”

“Well, you might fall over and the floor is hard,” she said.

I gave the floor a quick stamp. She wasn’t wrong.

“Alright. New plan. We get into bed first, then do it. Good plan?” I asked.

“Good plan,” she said.

So we quickly continued on our way to her room, my heart thundering the whole way. I was onto this now. No turning back. Well, lots of turning back if I wanted it but no no no none of that, please. All ahead full! We’re getting this done! Taking the plunge! Geronimo!

Force of will, son, force of will. Enough of this whinging bollocks you’ve got to seize this by the throat!

Twilight’s right! You’re you! Just hold onto that! Fucking just - whenever and whatever and whoever comes flooding back remember the you you’ve put together! It’ll jut out of the sea of the other guy like a mighty, uh, rock spire thing.

Man you bounced back, didn’t you? I think you got something going on, son.

But no matter! Just finding something and cling onto it. You’ll be fine! You’ll be you!

Don’t waste time thinking about what that means, just make it happen!

And so we’re into Celestia’s room and onto the bed. Big ol’ bed, very safe if I did indeed topple over. I’m up on my knees, Celestia’s kind of halfway off the bed. Don’t ask me why. I’ve still got my heart going fit to burst but whatever, we’re doing this. We’re doing this!

“Are you totally sure about this John? You can wait if you want, we can do this in the morning.”

“No, now please."

"You're absolutely sure? There's nothing wrong in waiting. In fact I think that-"

"Waiting would be sensible but I'm worried what a sensible me might want to do. It might not be what I know needst to happen. I don’t want to change my mind on this. Hah! Mind change. No, no. I’m settled. But, uh, one thing first.”

“What- mmph!”

That would be what it sounds like when a princess is cut-off mid question by being kissed. At length!

Figured it was a good time for it. And it did much to bolster my resolve. The wonderfully dreamy look it left on her face made me feel much, much more at ease.

Hey, I’d always have her in my life somewhere, right? So it couldn’t be all that bad, right?

I closed my eyes.

“Alright. Hit me.”

Here goes nothing. Or everything. Hah!

Suck it up, Buttercup

Author's Note

I fretted somewhat about how to resolve the memory issue. Too much? Too little? Too easy? Oh, what am I to do after all that buildup!

Then I remembered this is my house and I can do whatever the hell I want and you lot will either like it or not and I have no control over that.

Suck it up, Buttercup

Ow. Ow ow ow.

Did someone kick me in the head?

Seem to spend most of my time these days being disorientated for one reason or another. Right now it’s overwhelming brightness and a thumping headache doing the work. At least I got put somewhere comfortable.

I sat up, not really being able to see much beyond the covers and the embarrassing array of pillows propped around me. Sigh.

Great. Laid up in bed. Again. Ain’t that a kick in the head?

Hah, looped it back.

You know, back home the only time I’d ever been in a hospital or stuck in a hospital-like environment of recuperation outside of being a visitor was when I’d been born. Rest of my life one of mundane, peaceful non-injury. I was about the most boo-boo averse person you could hope to meet. Barely even ever had a cold, because my body apparently felt that being ill would have added too much variety to my life.

But here? It’s just one thing after another, I swear. I’d never so much as sprained an ankle back home! Even drunk! Woke up some weird places with some weird bruises but that was about it. I even fell down the stairs once and walked it off. No joke! That’s the point where you start to think someone’s playing silly buggers with you, really. You know-

Hey, wait a minute…

Holy crap! I could remember stuff! Stuff from before!

It had worked!

Ow but did my head hurt though. Only this time it wasn’t because I was trying to think too hard! It just hurt constantly, normally! No peaks and-or troughs. Which was good, I guess? Ow, ow…

“Why couldn’t I have woken up after the pain…” I said, rubbing my temples and screwing my eyes shut. Still very bright. It’s like arriving all over again. Well, almost. If it was like the first time all over again it would mean that-

“Oh! You’re awake!”

That voice! It’s like being waterboarded with sunshine!

Wait, no, that’s a horrible image.

It’s - it’s just nice. Really nice. Roll back the pain, even roll back the memories - let’s start from this point, from hearing that voice.

Feels like the first time, just like the very first time, yeah! Like it never will again!

I was so delighted I even forced my eyes open, to the displeasure of all of me, which objected to both the effort required to lift my eyelids and also - mainly - to the intense, unnecessary brightness.

And in the middle of all that sunshine flooding in stood…

Horse.

Horse. Smiling horse. Talking horse. That’s weird. It’s also perfectly normal. I mean it’s Celestia, isn’t it? You love Celestia, remember? And I do remember. But I can also remember the fact that, you know, horses are not typically that colourful, do not have wings and should not talk. Or smile like that. Or at all! Both of these states of knowing exist between my ears at once and I can practically hear them grinding together. Pretty horse. Pretty horse?

Ack. Dissonance! That feels uncomfortable. Or is that just the headache?

Maybe I have a headache because of the dissonance! Or because having a decade or two or more of life experience unleashed on your consciousness all at once is an uncomfortable thing to happen?

You know what, fuck it. I’m not going to find out right now. I’m just going to shut my eyes again.

Ah. That’s better. Or at least less bright.,

“Are you feeling alright?” I hear Celestia ask, all gentle concern and again comes that screeching, mangling car-wreck that is my present understanding that I love this lady to pieces being dragged down by all of my previous life experience which is playing catch up and is very, very confused.

I did the only thing I felt I could do in the circumstances, which was to smile wincingly and give a thumbs up in her general direction. All-purpose solution for any and all states of being, up to and including being on fire, were it required.

“Feels like I’ve been putting nails in with my forehead. Other than that...okay…”

I said this cautiously, as though drawing attention to it might cause problems. It did not, thankfully. Everything still seemed to be working properly. Brain still chugging along, nothing leaping out of my grey matter to scream at me. Just pain. Not even exciting pain! Just pain.

The bed shifted. That’d be Celestia climbing onto it. I shuffle a little to one side - more pain right across and throughout my head, but at this point what did it matter - and put an arm out. I feel her fit herself into the space this creates and all at once things seem just that tiny bit improved.

How she always so warm, huh? Guess it’s a sun thing. Maybe?

“Did it work?” She asks.

I swallow, nod, head swims. A pause.

“Do you...feel different?” She then asks, plainly on tenterhooks as to the answer.

Good question, too. I thought about it a second, then:

“So far...no?”

Her turn to swallow then. I heard her. Helped she was so close to me.

“Do you still…”

She trailed off and did not finish the question, which confused me. What on earth could she be asking? Only the bloody obvious! How did I not get it right away?

Blame that on the thumping headache. I wasn’t at my sharpest which, given I was already, the children’s plastic knife of the intellectual cutlery drawer, was saying something.

“Still? Still wha - oh! Right. Of course! Of course! Always! Come here, uh,” I said, trying to move in a for a kiss only to find nothing there but air. Still holding her though, still had an arm around her. Figure that one out. “Where’s your - are you actively avoiding me, woman? Keep still!”

“You could just open your eyes,” she said from somewhere I tried to move to only to find her having left it immediately. I frowned and did not open my eyes.

“It’s bright! I feel like I’m being used as a jar to store hangovers for the lean times. Sympathy would be nice!” I said, twisting about to try and get a better position only to find her weight on my arm pinning me. Cunning.

I got a pat on my head, too. So much for sympathy.

“Poor thing,” she said.

“You’re still not holding still!”

Seriously, how can you be holding someone and they still be able to duck and weave like this? I think she was cheating! And that she was giggling throughout was just rubbing it in!

“You’ll appreciate it more if you work for it,” she said, in between the giggles.

“Grr. That’s it. You’ve pushed me too far now.”

Headache be damned!

Pushing up I reached over, put my other arm around her. If she guessed what was coming she said nothing, but she did squeak when I heaved her over and onto my lap. Celestia’s a big girl, don’t get me wrong - kinda...like that, actually… - but I’m a big lad, too, and even with a splitting pain right through my skull I can still demonstrate this. Hah!

“No escape now,” I said once I had her in place and well-trapped.

“Oh no!” She said.

Smooching followed. And she was right, too. I did appreciate it more, having worked for it.

Clever girl...

And that answered that question. Did still love her. A whole lot, in fact. Something felt as much as known, to come across as a dripping pansy. True though. In my head I was aware of it, and in being aware of it something in my chest just seemed to glow.

That wasn’t so bad…

What a nancy though. Glow indeed. Pffbt.

And thinking about that, and how worried I’d been that remembering would ruin it, and how remembering had not ruined anything and how easily it had been dealt with - thinking about all that gave me pause. And as is customary during my pauses I realised that I was at fault.

God! What an idiot! What the hell had I been worrying about?

So much strife! Worry! I even ranted and got shirty at Twilight over this! Twilight! Lovely girl, Twilight. And over what? Nothing! Fucking nothing! Idiot! Should have done this ages ago!

Well, strictly speaking I suppose I had to wait until I was nabbed by a supremely powerful evil queen lady with abundant mind-mucking-about-with experience who didn’t mind running the risk of killing me by fiddling about inside my head - a risk that everyone else at the time felt was too great a risk to run, preferring me alive and magically amnesiac to dead but able to remember the street I lived on and what a Gregg’s was.

But that had happened. And I guess in my defence at the time I had no way of knowing it was going to work out this way. So maybe my concerns were legit? Hindsight’s a wonderful thing, after all.

Uh...

What was my point again?

Uh...fuck.

God my head hurts. The hangover comparison was apt - apt I say! Feels like someone put me in a tin and shook me around, too, just to make sure I wasn’t pretending to be hungover. Urgh.

“Can you remember your name?” Celestia asks and I risk cracking an eye again to look up at her. Pretty horse. Talking horse. Weird, but getting less weird.

Good question, too. Again. She’s full of ‘em today.

Trying to remember one’s name - unless something terrible has happened - is not something that requires a lot of effort or digging. Or any at all, in fact. It’s just there. Part of your fabric.

I had, however, not been thinking about it until she asked me and so when she did it popped right out. Or, rather, I simply noticed something that had been there the whole time since I’d woken up. And it was there. And almost at once I started sniggering to myself. Because the answer to this question was hilarious, at least to me.

“It’s John,” I said, adminst the sniggering.

My one open eye let me get a real good view of her very not-impressed expression.

“I’m being serious,” she said.

Sniggering now upgrades to outright laughter as the sheer ridiculousness of it hits me.

“No, honestly, my name is actually John. John Baxter. Ha! Haha! Oh that’s good.”

“Really?” She asks, still not wholly sure whether I’m pulling her leg or not.

Honestly, I wasn’t.

“Really!”

Outright laughter becomes infectious, and spreads from me to her. I laughed, she laughed, she collapsed onto me and I put my arms around her and we just laughed. To think - I’d been walking about with my real name all along! And I’d got it by accident!

For reasons at the time agreeably, but still. There had been a logic in my choice back then. And a pony with rainbow hair eyeballing me and putting me on the spot. But still! What are the odds, eh? John all the way down.

Fancy that.

Laughter does taper off eventually and Celestia leans off me again, though my arms stay around her. She’s smiling. I probably am, too.

“That’s the dumbest thing that’s happened to me! Oh man! Oh! Couldn’t make that up. Amazing. Sublime,” I said.

“I did always think you looked like a John,” Celestia said to me. It got another laugh from both of us. Good line, I thought. Me, the man with the most sensible name in this world, and therefore the least sensible.

God my head hurts.

I felt something and squinted down, finding her drawing circles on my chest with her hoof. She wasn’t wearing the bling, I noticed. Not even the crown!

“Do you remember…” she said, giggling a little at her choice of words. Amusing in the circumstances, no? “Do you remember, very soon after we first met, I asked you to tell me something mundane? About where you were from?”

I squinted.

“That does ring a bell,” I said.

“Now that you - now that it’s worked - could you do that again? Please?”

I had to smile. She was being so delicate, and yet her fierce need to hear something absolutely dull about back home was obvious. Odd girl, my girl, but I do rather like her.

“Oh, since you asked nicely. I’ll try and remember a normal day for you, strange thing that you are. Let’s see…” I picked a Thursday. Just some Thursday. It went from there.

You cannot imagine the tedium I unloaded on the poor woman but she took it all with good grace. Hell, she took it all with every appearance of eagerness. She kept on asking me questions and leading me on meandering tangents about the most trivial of everyday things. Like buying lunch. Or getting around. Or what I’d normally do after getting home. The most boring shit! But she wanted to hear about it. And this time I could actually tell her. In detail.

Excruciating detail.

By the time I wrapped up the retelling of that Thursday I’d bored myself halfway to tears but Celestia looked as though I’d only whetted her appetite. She was practically bouncing in place. The place in question here being my lap. Ooh-er, I say, etcetera.

“What about your family?” She asked, beaming ear to ear.

And, as with the name, I didn’t have to think about this, didn’t have to dig around. The information wasn’t hidden or buried, it was right there, pointed out and highlighted by the attention of her question. Boom. There. Alongside all my opinions and feelings on it.

“Not got a whole lot of one, I’m afraid. Mum died, died years ago, when I was a little babby. Eight, or near enough. So it goes. But that’s fine. Happens to the best of us, right? Then it was just me and dad and that was, well, that was fine. I turned out alright. He did alright.”

I said this and I say this, and though I know it might sound sad to her it is not sad to me, not anymore, because it happened a long time ago and I have got over it by now.

Kind odd to consider though, isn’t it? I did not know this stuff yesterday, and yet I have also known it for years, and my feelings on the matter crystalised a long time ago, so while I am learning it I am also not, and this was always there and there is nothing new to be learnt.

Christ, no wonder my head hurts.

From the look on Celestia’s face she clearly felt that her run of good luck with asking me questions had run out. The beaming from ear to ear had certainly stopped.

“And he’s...not dead? Your father?” She asked, wary, clearly expecting the worst.

“Heh, no. Very much alive. Least he was when I left. Married an American. Susie. Perfectly lovely woman. Moved over with her couple years back. She went to look after her mum, actually. Lot of that going around, apparently, though hers is still kicking about as far as I know. Dad went with her, got a job. Lives there now. Ain’t seen either of them since, really. Keep making plans for it, you know? Christmas visit or something. But it just hasn’t happened. Life.”

Going to America wasn’t exactly something you could do on a whim, or at least not something I could do on a whim, and the tempo of expenses always just set such a trip on the very edge of ‘next year’ and had done so for, well, ever since he had gone over there. Eh. One of those things.

“He moved away?” She asked.

I suppose I hadn’t been especially clear about the geography involved. There followed me giving a whistlestop explanation of Earth’s layout, such as was my ability to explain it. I got across the salient points for this situation at least - big ocean, many miles of distance, separated by a common language and all that.

Stopped short of pointing out how they were all rebel scum. She probably wouldn’t get the joke and that would just lead to further explanations and, really, my head was hurting enough already.

Celestia looked unhappy once I’d finished doing my little hamfisted bit of exposition.

“He just left you on your own?” She asked, framing the question like an accusation for someone who wasn’t there.

Again, I feel this was my fault for perhaps not setting things out clearly. But then again I am coming at the whole thing as someone who came to terms with it all years ago and in context, too. We’re all looking at the same things, seeing different things...

“It wasn’t like it happened five minutes after mum died. I wasn’t a babby anymore, had moved out anyway. Besides, he’s a grown man, he can do what he likes,” I said, shrugging.

Honestly, not the way I’d seen this conversation going. Remember when we were smooching? That was much better than this.

“I thought you would have been more unhappy about it, is all,” she said. Again I shrugged. Not sure what she wanted from me here.

“We have a perfectly healthy relationship. We’re aware that we both exist, we’re on friendly terms and we’re both perfectly happy individuals. I’m not sure what else we might be expected to do.”

Celestia was quiet a moment or two as she reflected on this, looking away from me.

“What about when he finds out you’re gone?”

That was a good question. She was back on form.

I mean, I was the sort of person living the sort of life who could (and had) just drop off the face of the Earth without making that much of a fuss about it. The people at work would notice first, no doubt, and they’d be annoyed about it. Then they might be confused. And maybe if I was lucky they might get worried about it.

Following that - in the imaginary sequence of events playing out in my head - there might be a grainy, very bad picture of me appearing on the news. John Baxter, last seen doing something stupid, probably, have you spotted this man? Call this number, etcetera. Would it make the national news? Probably not. But maybe. You never know.
And then one way or another dad would find out. He might hear the news, or someone who knows him might hear the news and call him, or else they might call him direct. The police, maybe, to inform him.

Then what?

“Shit…” I said.

I might not have had the most Dance With My Father relationship with my dad but I still liked the motherfucker (heh), you know? And now all I could think about was him, other side of the planet, worrying himself halfway to death because his son - who he was kind of fond of, I guess - had just up and disappeared.

Christ on a bike he hadn’t come back, had he? Wasn’t going around sticking up flyers on telephone poles and lampposts? Going up to people with my picture, asking if they’d seen me? Trying to track down my friends to ask if they had any idea only to find out I hadn’t got any? Experiencing then a kind of mingled despair at the social failure his song was, crossed with continuing desperation at being unable to find me?

“Shit,” I said again, screwing my eyes shut some more and covering my face with my hands the better to shut out that bloody sunshine. “If it’s not one thing it’s another…”

Fuck me my head hurt though.

“John?” I heard Celestia ask, concerned, and I kept one hand on my face while groping for her with the other, found her, and gave her a pat.

“I’m fine. Just - not how I saw my day going. Let’s put a pin in this, alright? At least until I can move without my head spinning.”

She didn’t say anything to this but the hug I got kind of suggested agreement, and was much welcomed anyway. My arms went back around her and I just pressed my face into her side and did my best to ignore the whole rest of my life that had just been shunted into coupling with my whole awareness.

What a mindfuck! Literally? Thanks Umbra, I guess.

Distantly there was a creaking sound and in that way that came with having one’s eyes closed my double-duty pulling ears recognised it as a door.

“Hello?” Came Twilight’s voice. “How is - he’s awake! Oh! Uh, I’ll - I’ll come back.”

I might have been halfway buried in Celestia - and not like that, thankfully, that would have been so much worse or at least so much harder to shrug off, ahem - but I could still picture Twilight entering, cautious, seeing if I was alright, spotting me up, being unaccountably excited, then clocking that me and Celestia were snuggling and suddenly feeling awkward about having intruded.

I could see that all in my head.

“No, no, you come here, you, more hugs. In fact just smother me, sit on my face or something,” I said, sticking an arm out in the direction I knew the door was in and making a ‘come here’ gesture with my hand.

Well that came out wrong.

No-one said anything.

“Uh…” Twilight went. Celestia was very clearly trying to keep in another giggle.

I didn’t even bother to defend myself.

Don't let the bells end

Author's Note

Festive cud.

Don't let the bells end

What turned out to be a pleasant distraction from...basically everything that had happened to me recently...was that it had all happened just in time for me to stumble, memory-restored, legs-working, hand-not-shaking into the festive season.

What clued me in to this being the case was the sudden appearance of a whole lot of sparkly accoutrement popping up basically everywhere, stuffed into every orifice of every place I happened to be in. Figuring out that this was probably a big deal, I asked Celestia about it, asked her what was going down, and asked what tended to happen in horseland around Christmastime.

Turns out no, not Christmas, Hearth’s Warming.

Celestia tells me it isn’t Christmas, but it so is.

There’s a lot of familial latitude with the traditions from what little I’ve heard but, hell, that ain’t so unusual. Everyone’s got their own way of doing things back home after all. Point is it’s basically Christmas. But with horses!

She was actually pretty excited to hear about the synchronicity of the whole thing, and I was more than happy to oblige her in outline all of my Crimbo knowledge, pouring forth in great ramblings streams regularly punctured by her interruptions, like so:

“-you know, and you get a tree and-”

“Decorate it?” She’d asked, practically bouncing in place with the need to know.

“Yes!” I’d say.

And she’d clop her hooves together in delight at yet another point where the two seemed to inexplicably match up. It was actually pretty cute just how, uh, happy she gets? Just the glee on her face when I talk about home, I suppose, and in hearing about what sort of things I used to do back there.

Doesn’t mean a whole lot to me, feels pretty damn mundane to me but whatever, I’m the alien, what do I know?

How is it that horses would even end up on deciding to decorate trees anyway? But then I suppose how did we?

And I didn’t get into the actual, you know, reasons for why Christmas was a thing beyond the merest lightest touching upon it in the vaguest of terms because I did not have the energy to start getting into any of that, and really I was so blinded by the coincidence of the motions matching up that I wasn’t so concerned about the motivations.

Tinsil? Really?

Bah.

Not that nitpicking is going to get me anywhere, and not that I should be wasting my time doing it. And I’m not, not really - or at least I’m trying not to. Instead, I’m trying to enjoy myself. Decorations! Weird games in the lead up to the big day! Treats!

A market!

Yes indeed a market. Lots of markets, in fact, but the local, fancy-pants Canterlot market - the one with royal blessing, no less - was the one that was my primary focus.

Big fan of that when I heard about it. Cunt for a Christmas market, me. Or Hearth’s Whatever market. I’m down for it all, son, I’ll take it all and come back for more. I’m just easy like that.

Celestia was expected to go, it being a thing and, of course, I was sure as shit going with her. No sir! Couldn’t drag me away!

And a benefit of it being some fancy-pants Canterlot royal-sponsored shindig thing was that having Celestia (and Luna, somewhere, apparently, though I hadn’t seen her) just wander around from stall to stall was not that big of a deal.

Had we just, say, rocked up to some out-the-way place to do the same thing one imagines the logistics involved would rather have taken the fun out. Here? From the ground up done with royal mingling in mind.

It was still a deal, obviously. Ponies still fell over themselves and bowed and scraped and all that, but it wasn’t like they had to lock the place down or anything. Because it was already locked down to start with, and had been put together like that. Guards weren’t tailing us, they were just infesting the market by design.

Which gave us space, after a fashion. And what also gave us space was the wide berth the regular attendees were giving us. Well, more of a respectful distance, I suppose. Very nice of them, as otherwise the place was rammed. Popular! Unsurprising.

I was mostly just tagging along with Celestia and soaking up the atmosphere while she meandered about congratulating stallholders on what wonderful stuff they’d turned out, wishing them the best for the season, dispensing a little regal wisdom and just generally making everyone’s day better just by appearing for a moment.

That could be bias on my part, but I’d fight anyone on it. Fuck, she could pass by in the distance and smile my way and I’d probably say my day improved I still don’t care, I’ll defend this position.

By this point my presence in the world and specifically my presence basically as Celestia’s shadow had lost most of the novelty it might have once had. I still got looks, but no-one seemed to care. Indeed, everyone tended to care more about Celestia showing up, usually to the complete exclusion of me.

No skin off my back. I don’t even just work here, I’m just here with mah girlfriend, in the Christmas market, don’t pay attention to me.

Well, Hearth’s Warming market or whatever.

I’m sorry! I can’t get over it! End up in a whole different universe and I’m running into this sort of thing? That’s some weird synergistic evolution...stuff...going on there, let me tell you. Snowy gift-giving festival with a lot of festive treats that look awfully familiar? The mind boggles.

Heh, always with the snow though. No-one ever has a Christmas-themed ersatz festival holiday thing in the summer, do they? Take that, Australia!

I should probably just let it go.

Fairly predictably Celestia’s circuit of the market took us through the crafty part and thence onto what I shall call treat alley, and once in treat alley we somehow very quickly ended up at a stall that sold cake and, with Celestia appearing, sold some more cake not long after that. Kind of a struggle getting the guy not to just give it to her but she can be real insistent when she wants to be, and she wasn’t taking it for free.

She ate it. She was very happy.

I never get tired of seeing that happen...

For my part though I wasn’t feeling cake. I have nothing against cake - any other day I’d be all over it - but it just didn’t seem to gel with the festive mood for me, no matter how trussed-up for Hearth’s Warming it was. Just not quite there for me.

There had to be something else, something more fitting, something seasonally appropriate.

I cast an eye around. Many treats jumped out at me, but one in particular caught my attention. The lumpiness drew me in. It suggested something to me that my subconscious knew immediately, my thoughts themselves following close behind,.

There was no mistaking it, there was only one thing it could be!

“Stollen? Stollen!”

Oh joy! Joy unbounded! Holidays are coming!

I immediately and frantically started poking Celestia in the side to get her attention.

“Celestia, Celestia! Hey, Celly, hey, hey,” I said, for good measure.

She took her time in turning my way. Sloooowwwllllyyyy pretending to finnaaalllyy noticing me poking her before proceeding to slllooowwwwlllyyy bring her head around and stuff her face right into the crook of my neck. Saw that move coming but it still made me shiver when she did it.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to get my attention,” she said, quietly, voice right by my ear. Gah. She always does that. Real hard not to shiver. Even with my legs working now kinda went close to buckling. Reckon she did that on purpose.

“We are in full view of everyone, you know,” I reminded her, also quietly, though I never usually got the same reaction out of her that she tended to get out of me. Will never stop me trying, though!

She giggled, too, which was just great.

“Think they suspect anything?” She asked.

I looked around. Anyone who’s eyes I caught immediately looked away again. Which meant they were looking and had seen, but were all pretending not to and that they hadn’t.

“Nope,” I said.

“That’s because I’m so subtle,” she said, having the gall then to plant the teeniest, tiniest of pecks right on my neck just as she pulled back.

That’s the kind of thing that‘d get people talking, surely.

Only! No-one bloody saw it!

Because of the way her mane had been and just how fleetingly she’d planted it there was no way anyone could have seen it, making it actually, legitimately subtle. Damn she’s good. And from the look on her face she knows it, too.

That smile. That smile!

“I’m blushing, aren’t I?” I asked.

“You always look that flushed to me. Or maybe that’s only because I’m around,” she said.

Funny lady.

“Hah,” I said.

Another giggle. God I love that sound.

“What were you poking me for anyway?” She then asked.

I’d actually forgotten, she’d actually made me forget. Took me a second to bring it back. I had to look around again and when I did I saw what it was that had got me so fired up.

“Stollen!” I said, grabbing Celestia by both cheeks and pulling her face in to mine. She raised an eyebrow.

“Stollen?”

“Stollen! Over there! It’s very important we go there,” I said, pointing with one hand, the other staying holding her face. Celestia gasped.

“Important? Why didn’t you say so? Lead the way!”

I swivelled a little so I could drape an arm over her neck and give her a pat on the shoulder - do horses have shoulders? Always been too embarrassed to ask - continuing to point in an overly-dramatic way, just for the sheer hell of it.

“Stick close, I’ll limp my way over - wait, no, that was the old John - new John strides over!”

Stand aside, everyone! I take large steps!

I did lead the way and Celestia kept pace, trotting alongside and laughing, the crowds aparting ahead of us in either awe or alarm, take your pick. Kind of overblown sure but it was fun so hell.

The pony manning (ponying?) the stollen stall saw us coming a mile off and was plainly torn between joy at having the Princess approaching and concern at having both her and me, the weirdo alien, both coming at him with such fierce determination.

“Hello there. Lovely looking stuff you got here. All of this, please, all of the stollen,” I said, pointing to all of the stollen.

This seemed to unsettle the stallholder, who stammered briefly and then looked to Celestia for help.

“Which would you recommend, my little pony?” Celestia asked in that immediately, instantly, overwhelming soothing tone she could apparently just turn on at a whim. It was like being wrapped in a snuggly blanket, only with words. Hell, I’m not even a pony and I liked it.

“Well! That would depend on what you were in the mood for! Here we have what you might call your ‘classic’ variety - all local ingredients, all locally sourced! - and then just to the side of that you’ve got-”

And on he went. I kind of zoned out. Sales-patter always did that to me, and I’m a simple and straightforward enough guy that I’d already settled on what it was I wanted, which was the basic stuff. Celestia though listened politely, nodding along and going ‘Ooh’ and ‘I see’ in all the right places. Mostly I just watched her until he wrapped up.

“So what’ll it be, Princess Celestia?” The stallholder asked at length once he was done, looking to her.

“John here is the one you should be asking, really,” she said, smiling, tilting her head my way.

“Oh! Uh, yes, I - heh - I see. Well then, uh, ‘John’, anything take your fancy?” He asked, clearly finding my name odd but also knowing it would be rude to point that out. I got that.

“One of these, please,” I said without hesitation, pointing down at one of the nice, big chunks of stollen in front of me, one of the bog-standard ones.

“There’s a lot of choices here, are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to maybe think about it?” Celestia asked, gently, in the way that someone asks when they are aware that there is one correct answer to the question and they’re hoping you’ll also realise this.

Not so, Celestia!

“I’m a man who makes snap decisions, whatever gets put in front of me first, pow,” I said, pointing down at the stollen I’d selected. Celestia frowned, but only a low-grade frown, the type lightly dusted with concern.

“That’s not really a good thing,” she said.

“Not necessarily bad, either,” I pointed out. Big clever man, me.

She looked at me sideways. I could feel it even if I wasn’t looking.

“...we may have to agree to disagree.”

When the lady who’s somewhere in the region of a hell of a lot older than you says that she’ll agree to disagree it probably means you’re wrong in a way she’s seen dozens of times already but that she would prefer to let you down gently.

I can appreciate that.

“So you’ll be taking this or…?” The stallholder asked, utterly left in the dust by me and Celestia’s gay banter and entirely unsure of what it was he was actually supposed to be doing.

“Yep yep, this one right here. How much do I owe you?”

“Ah,” said the Stallholder, eyeing Celestia.
“I’ll-” started Celestia, though I already knew where it was going.

It was now a horrendous three-way struggle between the stallholder wanting to give his stuff away for free, Celestia wanting to pay for it and then me, the one actually trying to buy it fighting tooth-and-nail to hand over my own money for the stuff.

How does this sort of thing happen?

In the end I snatched victory by expertly distracting the stallholder (by pointing behind him and saying something was about to fall over) and pinching Celestia on the bottom, which made her squeak and then go very quiet and very pink.

Don’t think anyone else saw anything…

“Much obliged,” I said, nodding my thanks to the pony and taking my (surprisingly hard-won) stollen and feeling pretty damn good about myself as we walked back into the bustle of things.

My purchase was hefty, which was always a good sign. You know you’re onto a good treat when it’s weighty enough to be used as a weapon if anyone tried to get it off you. It was like I was carrying a delicious paving slab.

“I need to eat this immediately,” I said, cradling it like a child because, in many ways, it was my new child. I would protect it and keep it safe from a hostile world. Up until consuming it, obviously. I was a loving parent in the way Cronus was.

“There’s a quiet spot we can go,” Celestia said as I had to lift a leg so as not to be bowled over by a sprinting, cheering gaggle of kids who went careening past without a care in the world. Good on them, even if they were a menace - they looked like they were having a good time.

“Around here? You must know some important people,” I then said.

Celestia gave me a bump with her hip.

“You probably haven’t heard of them.”

I gave her a bump right back, even though I didn’t have quite as much hip to work with as she did.

“Probably not,” I said.

Celestia then demonstrated a frankly preternatural level of understanding of the layout of the market and took us both a brief zig-zag route through the goings on - pausing only briefly now and then to say hello and shower praise on the deserving (which was everyone, honestly) - and into a guard-flanked, VIP-seeming stop towards the back.

And in this back area there was a cordoned-off, tucked-away tent of moderate size apparently specifically set up just to be a place the princesses could go to not be in the middle of things. There was a table, cushions, etcetera. A very little quiet spot, and I was in it.

Royal perks! Kind of makes me feel like a pariah but, eh, there’s honestly not a whole lot to be done about it. At least it was just us two now, noise of the crowd outside surprisingly muffled once the tent flaps were pulled to.

“This is very fancy,” I said, kneeling on a cushion and laying my stollen down. Celestia just hummed and nodded. I briefly wondered what, if anything, was on her mind at that exact moment but if she wasn’t sharing it she presumably had her reasons, and now was not the time to pry.

Instead, stollen time. I opened up the bag it had got wrapped in and crudely wrenched free a chunk or two with my bare hands - fear me, stollen, I need not knives!

I passed the first, larger chunk to Celestia, she having settled herself the opposite side of the little table to me, and who took it and hovered it in front of her, turning it about and looking it over.

“I haven’t eaten stollen in years,” she said before giving it a nibble. Seemed to go down well.

“I could eat stollen until I died. It’d be really easy. I could start right now,” I said, holding up my own chunk. It would not be getting nibbled. It would be getting devoured. And that would only be the start.

“Please don’t,” Celestia said, with just enough actual honesty and earnestness behind the casual to very nearly take me out at the knees had I not already been kneeling.

Does she...worry about me dying? Me, the one who can die against her, the one who, as far as I know, can’t? Or won’t? Is that a concern of hers? The inevitable first day, some time away from now, of me not being around anymore?

Kind of a heavy line of thought for Christmas - leave that for now! Come back later. For now, more jokes, continued flippancy:

“Alright, you make a strong case. Compromise: I eat enough stollen to become horribly nauseous instead and spend an evening groaning, clutching my stomach and feeling sorry for myself.”

Seemed like a reasonable enough midway point between dying and not eating stollen at all. Certainly I couldn’t imagine any other ways of coming at the issue.

Celestia tapped her chin thoughtfully, face set, very serious.

“Hmm, if you make yourself sick then that would be a good excuse to look after you again…” She said.

“Exactly! It’d be like how, you know, couples do that thing where they, uh, recreate their first dates? Only, uh…”

I’d kind of lost where I was going with that, almost as soon as I’d started going anywhere with it in the first place. I stopped, gawping into space, struggling for what came next.

“When is our anniversary anyway? Do we have one? Crap, I should have been making notes.”

Celestia gave me a wonderfully indulgent smile before getting up and moving around my side to table, plonking herself back again close enough she could cuddle into me and, thanks to me kneeling, just rest her head on my shoulder.

“I think we mark it from that time I pushed you down a corridor in a wheelchair,” she said.

I blinked.

“Didn’t I fall out?”

I distinctly remembered falling out.

“You might have done…” Celestia said nonchalantly, bringing over her lump to stollen to nibble some more. I realised belatedly that I hadn’t even touched mine yet - after all that fuss!

Still just thinking about going arse-over-tit. Heh, that had been fun.

“That’s a very specific point, I like it. Definitely the moment I realised I loved you, when I was sailing through the air. Might have fully realised it when I hit the ground. I do have to ask why though. Why?” I asked.

“Because - because I remembered it and it’s still funny,” she said.

“Well you’re not wrong.”

It had been pretty damn funny. We’d had some interesting times. I gave her a kiss on top of the head - avoiding that damn horn - and she laughed, staying resting on my shoulder, staying snuggled up.

Now that I’m wholly compos mentis you’d think being in a touchy-feely lovey-dovey relationship with a MAGICAL HORSE GODDESS would weird me out more but oddly enough it’s kind of circled around all the way to end up at just being reassuringly familiar and nice.

Kind of helps that I’m, ah, a touch fond of her.

And, you know, life experience. Also helps I suppose.

“Hey, Celestia,” I said and she turned more fully my way.

“Hmm?”

And smooch, when she least expected it! A secret smooch in the secret tent. Life’s pretty good.

“You had something on your face,” I said and she giggled quietly and her head went back to where it had been before.

My turn to hmm, only this time internally. Hmm.

She seemed a touch out of sorts. Not, like, upset or anything, but not as enthusiastic or energetic as she had been before. I can pick up on things like that because I’m attuned. And because it was obvious too, which helped.

“You alright?” I asked.

“Yes, just a bit tired, that’s all,” she said.

“You have had kind of a busy morning. I think if I stopped to talk to everyone like you did I would have keeled over by now. Or run away screaming. I have no idea how you manage it.”

Not hyperbole. I ain’t a people person, and small-talk ain’t really my area of expertise. That I managed as well as I did here was, I liked to think, more a result of luck than anything else, coupled with the innate friendliness of the locals.

“I love my little ponies and I’m always so proud of everything they do and so happy to hear about their plans for the holidays. It’s always wonderful, every year wonderful. How excited everypony is to see family, gifts, it’s all just so...wonderful,” she said, clearly unable to find a more fitting word. To be fair, I couldn’t either.

“When you put it like that it does sound rather nice…” I said.

Mention of family got me thinking though, something I’d been trying to avoid. Just couldn’t help it!

If I got here then it’d stand to reason that there was a way to get back, wouldn’t it? And even if there wasn’t, trying to get back would at least show up whether it was a possible one way or another, right?

And not doing anything would kind of just be abdicating responsibility for the whole thing - something that’s bad exclusively because, right at this moment, there exists the possibility that dad is back home going nuts because I’ve dropped off the face of the earth. Literally.

And if I don’t do anything about that then I’m basically saying I’m okay with that, and that him having his son vanish is fine as long as I get to chill and eat stollen with a pretty horse.

I’m bad but I’m not that bad. I really should do something about it.

Assuming he’s even noticed. Hoping that he’d even care (I know he would, but you must be open to possibilities). Or that there’s a one-to-one time difference between here and home anyway, and that it’s not the case that while I’ve been here millions and years have passed at home and everyone and everything I know is dead anyway.

Jesus, where do I even start with this? I mean it’s kind of beholden to me to start somewhere but man, pick a spot, right? Flip a coin. Fuck me.

“John?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. Miles away,” I said, landing back in the moment with a bump, finding Celestia looking at me.

Presumably one day I might stop feeling the tiniest of tiny lurches in my gut when I see those eyes of hers, but that ain’t today. Hopefully that day’s a long way off.

“What was it?” She asked.

“It was - we’ll talk about it later, don’t worry about it. Nothing to do about it right now. Let’s just have a good time. It’s Chri- Hearth’s Warming after all, right? Comes but once a year!”

I could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced but she seemed to accept that now wasn’t the moment to press the issue. Wasn’t like I was going anywhere anyway, so we would be picking this up later.

“Okay, if you’re sure. Have some stollen,” she said.

The chunk I’d taken for myself and had since just set on the table floated at me aggressively and I nabbed it out the air twixt forefinger and thumb.

“It’s like you know me,” I said, popping it into my mouth.

All at once, all negative thoughts banished! Replaced with fruit, marzipan and icing sugar!

“Oh God it’s good!” I said, reaching for more.

It begins!

Celestia chuckled and watched me have another bit. And then another. And then she stopped chuckling.

“Um, I know I said before that getting sick would be - maybe slow down a bit, John?” She said with mounting alarm.

“I chan’t shtop,” I said, mouth full. The stollen was promptly and magically yanked out of my reach.

“Shpoilshport,” I said.

“It’s for your own good,” Celestia said, sticking her tongue out at me as I swallowed and sulked, theatrically.

“That’s what they always say…”

The tent flaps then opened and both of us then jumped. There, resplendent, was Luna. She was looking good, I suppose?

“Sister, I have found you,” she said, entering, tent flapping back closed again behind her.

No pulling the wool over her eyes.

“You were looking for me?” Celestia asked. Luna nodded.

“I was. It is time for the ice sculpting competition. It requires adjudication and judging.”

I had no idea there’d be ice sculpting! No-one told me!

Celestia seemed nonplussed though.

“Already? Couldn’t you do it?” She asked.

“I judged it last year, tradition dictates-” Luna started, but Celestia cut across her:

“Yes yes, rotating duties. Okay, alright, only fair,” she said, sighing, rising.

Hadn’t Luna not been back that long? I guess this might be a ‘It is a recent tradition but a tradition nonetheless’ situation. Or maybe not. Probably not worth getting caught up on it, honestly.

I stayed on my cushion, feeling a bit like a lemon.

“You want me to come with you or anything?” I asked Celestia.

Couldn’t quite see why I should. I’d probably just be getting in the way, honestly, as this wasn’t like aimless wandering, this was her actually going somewhere to do something. I’d be extraneous! But still, you had to ask.

“No no, don’t worry. This shouldn’t take long, and I wouldn’t want you to just be standing around with nothing to do. You wait here, I’ll be back.”

I figured, but it pays to check these things. And as much low-level interest as I had in watching ponies sculpt ice - or seeing the results of them having done so beforehand, if that’s how this thing worked - it was countered by my desire not to get under anyone’s feet. Or hooves.

I took up more space than I looked like I should, this I knew, so in the tent I’d stay. For now.

“Can probably manage that,” I said. She smiled. I smiled. We had a thing.

Celestia then turned to Luna.

“Are they ready now”? She asked.

“Yes, they are.”

“Alright. Does it look as good as or better than last year, do you think?” She asked Luna as a followup. Luna considered this question with some considerable gravity.

“There are more entrants, and I think the fashion of the entries has changed,” she said, at length.

Whatever that meant in practise.

“Suppose I’ll see. Okay, I’ll be back,” Celestia said, pausing briefly enough to give me a farewell nuzzle and also giving one to Luna, too, on her way out, leaving just me and Luna behind in the dimness and quiet of the tent.

To my surprise, Luna didn’t also immediately leave. Guess she wanted a little break from it all too. Fair play. She went and settled herself down on the cushions on the opposite side of the table, turning in place and getting comfy, tossing back that sparkly mane of hers.

So sparkly…

“Having a nice time, Luna?” I asked once she was done adjusting her position.

“I enjoy this time of year. It is pleasant,” she said.

Whoa steady on there Luna, you might want to dial that back a notch.

“Well I know what’d bump that up to ‘quite pleasant’ - fancy some stollen?”

“Stollen?” She asked, perplexed.

Gasp. Unfamiliarity with stollen? Inconceivable!

“It is only the best thing. I cannot express to you my delight at finding it here. We have it back home, see, so I’m feeling all rather happy at having found some. It is also delicious. Delicious fruit bread stuff. Very German or whatever weirdo horse-country it comes from over here. Ger-mane, maybe, I don’t know. Can’t believe you haven’t heard of it!”

Her being another MAGICAL HORSE PRINCESS and all, you’d think she’d be at least passingly familiar. Surely it would have come up once or twice, surely!

“It may have been invented while I was indisposed.”

Alright fair play, I can buy that. You get banished for a thousand years or so, baking moves on, you come back and then you can’t be expected to just learn what new delicious treats have been concocted in your absence - that’s fair. There’s a lot she’d needed to catch up on.

“Ah. Well. Would you like to try some anyway?” I asked, leaning over to grab it from where Celestia had left it, breaking off another chunk and then holding the chunk out for Luna, who levitated it right out of my hand and brought it over for inspection.

She looked at it very intently and suspiciously for a moment or two.

“...thank you,” she said after a moment, apparently only just remembering that part. I wouldn’t have minded either way, I can take it. She then very, very experimentally took the tiniest bite I think I’d ever seen in my life, followed by the most cautious chewing one could conceive of.

Apparently the conclusions were favourable though as following that she proceeded to immediately polish off the rest of the chunk in one go. Girl after my own heart.

“That was also pleasant,” she said.

“I know, right? I was trying to eat enough to get horribly sick but Celestia stopped me.”

“...that may have been wise of her,” Luna said, clearly unsure if I was joking or not. I wasn’t sure either, honestly. My insides told me no, but certain other parts really seemed to think yes.

Sense - and the very judging state that Luna was giving me - won out, and I tucked the stollen back into its bag and wrapped it up for later. Damn being sensible, I thought adults could do what they liked!

“Are you also having a nice time, John?” Luna asked, I think more out of politeness than any actual desire to get an answer. Was this the awkward conversation the sibling has with the partner?

Ah, Luna and I vaguely know each other, it’s fine. Suppose this is just our first proper conversation since I, you know, become complete.

“Whale of a time. We kind of have a thing like this back home, kind of. Fun how it lines up.”

“Back home?” She asked, the tiniest glimmer of interest just fringing the edges of the question.

“Yeah. Mean it’s not the same, you know? It happens for a different reason, but if you saw them both from the outside without context you could think one was based on the other. Trees, shiny things, games, festive treats, snow - lines up pretty well, like I say.”

“I see,” Luna said, thinking to herself a moment before adding: “Does it make you think of your home?”

Goddamnit woman, I quite specifically am trying not to think of that, at least not right now. I can’t do anything about it right now! I might not be able to do anything about it at all. And I don’t even know how I’m meant to go about confirming that either way.

I’m going to work on it, just - just not right now. Right now just trying to have a good time. ‘Tis the season.

“Yes,” I said. Best be honest. “But whatever, you know? This is way better. My Christmas is usually just me, so this is already bounds ahead.”

“You do not spend the season with your family?”

Goddamnit, woman. I rubbed my temples.

“No, no not really - did Celestia pass on any of what I said about what I remember now to you?” I asked.

“She did not.”

Could have gone either way on that one, honestly. I did sometimes wonder if Celestia spoke about me to anyone else, and Luna had in the past demonstrated an uncanny ability to know more about things she had no reason to know about. Guess just not this time.

“Figures. It’s fine, honestly. This is great, this place is great, I’m having fun, we’re all having fun. There’s ice sculpting going on - or already happened and they brought them here like I already said to myself I don’t know how it’s set up - there’s treats there’s cool knick knacks, everything’s golden.”

“As you say, John,” Luna said, as someone who isn’t buying what you’re selling might say.

“Odd line of questioning anyway…” I mumbled. Luna fixed me a right good stare.

“Before you had no real memory of where it was you came from and so couldn’t miss it. Now that you have and you can, I am...concerned for your wellbeing,” she said.

“Concerned?”

“We are friends, John, in our own way, and your wellbeing is important. That it also affects the mood of my sister is incidental.”

Suppose Luna woulda got a lot of that when I’d been missing. Yeesh, that can’t have been fun…

Luna continued as I winced:

“It must be difficult to be taken away from everything that was familiar to you.”

“Eh, kind of. I lucked out in that I got to mooch around here with no context or real expectations for a bit first, so this place is pretty familiar to me anyway. I get what you mean though. Now that I can remember, uh, home this place does seem just that tiniest bit different by contrast. But I’m fine, honestly,” I said.

Mostly.

And also real talk a frankly staggering amount of stuff in horse-land is uncannily familiar to me anyway. I saw one pony the other day just using a jackhammer. With handles. Why would anyone make that here?! That doesn’t add up.

“If you are sure,” Luna said, and I noticed her eyeing the stollen bag. I knew the score. I opened it up and took off another chunk for her, which she took and ate far more demurely than I ever would have.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Sharing is caring,” I said, feeling immediately dumber for it.

We then sat in silence for a bit. There was a burst of cheering that penetrated the tent at one point that I assumed might have had something to do with the ice sculpting, but really who could say?

“I saw you pinch my sister,” Luna eventually said, out of fucking nowhere. I looked over at her and she was looking right back at me in the kind of way that made it impossible to tell where she was going to go from there.

Down, I assumed.

Ah poop.

“It’s a...human...tradition…?” I ventured.

Luna has a favourite of unimpressed expressions available to her - this I know - and she broke out a particularly high-grade one after hearing me say this.

“Did you honestly think I would believe that?” She asked.

I was going to say yes but the unimpressed-ness ratched up a few notches and the word died in my throat.

“...no,” I said instead, shrinking a little.

Hey it was worth a shot.

Read + Write

Author's Note

I lay back and feel the waves lap up further and further around me.

The water is warm.

Read + Write

Back in Ponyville, now, and feeling unsettled about my situation.

My situation, not my circumstances. My circumstances were pretty great. Got my dinky little house in the castle grounds in Canterlot, that’s great. Got a room always open for me in another, gaudier castle in Ponyville, that’s also great.

Still making my little lopsided toys for the all the kids, even with two steady hands - turns out I’m just bad at making them, who knew? I got shit to keep me busy is the point, and I got nice people coming out of my ears, I’m fucking golden.

My situation though nags at me.

Heh, nag. Horse joke.

For real though.

If I was conveniently orphaned or had just somehow popped up without parents - some sort of very disappointing designer baby, perhaps, abandoned in disgust - then I could probably just about deal with it.

‘It’ in this instance of course referring to my being here and not on Earth. ‘It’ being me getting transplanted into some strange magical land and shacking up with one of the local goddesses. Getting caught pinching her bottom by her sister, one of the other goddesses. I hang out with horses who have wings. There’s magic. That ‘it’. I can deal with that.

Home had been familiar, sure, but this place was pretty damn familiar to me now, and I was sure as hell having more fun with the horses than I had been with the humans.

But I was not conveniently an orphan, I was only half an orphan, and somewhere dad was still...aware of me. And if he was aware of me he would at some point become aware of me having disappeared. And he would worry. And knowing this twists me in the gut.

And that’s about it! Was hardly brimming with other connections that might make me feel bad about being torn from the bosom of my home planet. Fuck, my life was a turgid trudge before whatever happened to me happened to me. Only friends I had were work friends and they only hung out because we worked together. Girlfriend had gone. What the fuck did I have?

This was a pretty sweet deal for me, up until I remembered everything! Even with the limp! At least it gave me character! I fell over sometimes! It was fun for all the family.

Too late for that, so hell. Crossed that bridge, didn’t die, haven’t really turned into someone else as far as I can tell, golden, fucking golden. Everything else is fine. It’s just worrying about dad worrying about me. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got it. But it won’t go away.

What was that Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy thing? About threads of guilt? Attached all the way back to one’s home, getting stretched and distorted? I got one thread, and it’s this, and it’s doing my fucking nut.

So that’s the issue, that’s my issue.

What the hell am I going to do about it?

Can’t just sit around doing nothing, can I?

Well, I could, but I’d feel like a right prick.

Got to do something about it. Ignoring it - my usual go-to for things that make me unhappy - just isn’t going to cut the mustard forever. I distract myself, I do some things, I hang around with Twilight or Celestia or whoever, I mess around and have a laugh but the gnawing always come back, always the worrying. It’s not going anywhere!

So I got to do something. And for this one I really, really think that I have to be the one to do it. Somehow. Just feels appropriate, for one, and for another, my alternative was, well, asking for help.

Normally I’m kind of fine with that these days! Getting nursed back to health can do that. Kind of softened my natural reluctance to ask for any help. But there has to be a limit, right?

Couldn’t go running off every time something big looms going “Celly Celly help me” or “Twily Twily help me.”

Eurgh, Twily. That sounds weird. Never even think that again.

Still! The point remains!

Can’t very well just curl up into a ball and let them look after me forever.

Well, I could. And a part of me really, really wants to. That really indolent part of me somewhere right deep in the damper hindparts of my brain that just wants to do as little as possible and stay in bed (either Celestia’s or mine at a time with her in it, I’m not choosy) and let everyone else do the worrying.

That part is always there. I think it’s some sort of vestigial leftover of some earlier state of being. Something primordial and selfish and lazy. Everyone’s got to have something like that in there, right? That’s my excuse at least.

But no! None of that. Not this time.

I mean how hard can it be? They’ve got magic coming out of their ears around these parts. Twilight’s always reading this or that book by this or that ancient so-and-so who seemed to know the answer to whatever problem needed dealing with at the time. I can do that! I can read!

Well...I can’t, actually. Okay, first hurdle. First of many.

Just take it in stages. Any problem is less of a problem if you break it down into stages. All things are big and scary until you take them apart. Like a Tiger II.

...weird pull, but sure. Maybe just wait for the problem to break down and be abandoned by its crew, I guess.

I mean, I’d probably end up having to go and ask for help anyway given that this is probably wildly outside my abilities but at least when I do go crying to them I can say that I did something.

Kind of weird though, right? If I really was serious, wouldn’t I go to those who can help most first rather than faffing about myself, likely to no real result? I don’t know why. In my head this was just a me thing.

And besides, what if, say, only seconds were passing back home anyway? I’d have loads of time! Oodles!

And if not, well…

Look, I don’t have to justify myself to you, myself.

All of which is a real long way of explaining why I was sitting under a tree with one of those books Twilight had lent to me (lovely girl, Twilight), trying to read it.

Oh, and it was nice outside. Hence the tree. Otherwise I’d have been inside.

I’d like to say I was making solid progress but in the time I’d been slacking off on the quote-unquote ‘work’ Twilight had prepared for me to help me get into the swing of reading Mareain - and, having got my memory back, that name works on multiple levels now I tell you what - it seems that everything I’d learnt had just plopped out of my head.

So I’m back to square one I have no-one to blame but myself. Mea culpa. Languages were never my strong point to start with so not only was I lazy I was also on the backfoot from the get-go.

But I was determined. Had it all planned out. I’d knock this on the head, get it all down pat, lean on Spike to point me in the direction of the weighty tomes without informing Twilight, figure out whatever happens after that and boom, job done.

Yeah. Yeah that’ll work. Sure. I’ll buy that.

Am I playing for time? Am I procrastinating? Am I worried that, were I to bring this particular issue of mine to Twilight or Celestia they would drop something important they had to do in favour of helping out me, their buddy and, ahem, special friend respectively?

I don’t know. I just have a plan and I’m sticking to it.

“See spot. See spot...run? Seriously?” I muttered to myself, turning the book on its side. “This is some hot convergent bullshit, no way did this happen.”

I read and re-read the line but, as far as I could make out, that was what it said. Unreal, man. I had to shake my head. This place has issues.

“Howdy John,” came a delightfully folksy voice, so folksy I didn’t even have to look up to know who it belonged to. I looked up anyway, of course, and saw exactly who I expected to see.

Which is to say Applejack.

“And a howdy to you, too,” I said, giving her a wave as she sauntered - no, mosied - on over.

One of the nice things about being in Ponyville and not Canterlot was that I was forever bumping into people and having a nice natter. The downside being that none of those people were ever Celestia but, hell, can’t have everything.

And blah blah whole point of splitting my time was so that I wasn’t always hanging around with Celestia yada yada personal development growing as my own person bllaaaahhhh. I’d say no-one cares but I know at least one person who does. And she can come to me in my dreams and stare me down, so I kind of want to stay on her good side.

“Whatcha doin’?” Applejack asked once she’d reached the comfortable shade of the tree.

“Reading,” I said, tapping the book with a finger. I then held it up so she could get a better look and she leaned in, peering. Once she read the cover she looked a little on the confused side.

“Ain’t that a book for foals, though?” She asked.

“Got to start somewhere,” I said with a shrug.

She continued to look confused, but then she got it and then looked quietly appalled instead of confused.

“Ya can’t read?” She said with a level of incredulity that I admit might have stung a little. I gave her a little bit of the old raised eyebrow action, to show my feelings on the matter. My hurt feelings.

“I can read, I just can’t read your bizzaro language - it’s all Greek to me,” I said.

And back to confused for Applejack.

“Greek?”

“Exactly. Anyway, I’m just going over the basics again because I - idiot I am - squandered and wasted my time rather than sticking to the rather comprehensive lesson structure that Twilight outlined for me, nice girl that she is. So I’m getting back up to speed. Hence why I’m now engaged in reading about the pleasant adventures of this dog named Spot. It’s thrilling stuff. And educational!”

“I read that book, it ain’t about a dog,” she said, pointing.

She got me. For a split-second she actually got me. Then I remembered that this book had pictures. The grin she utterly failed to suppress also kind of gave the game away. I stuck my tongue out at her and she let out a guffaw which she mostly managed to muffle behind a hoof.

“I thought you were supposed to be honest?” I grumbled.

“Don’t mean I can’t have fun.”

Interesting position. I’d have to concede that.

“...fair play.”

Sudden, vivid memories of those times people would learn I was colourblind and start shoving pencils under my nose and lying about what colour they were. Only those guys had been right dicks, while Applejack was alright.

“So how is the book?” She asked, smiling the smile of the gently-poking-fun. I could play along with this.

“Oh, real page-turner, let me tell you. What’s just happened - and I don’t want to spoil this for you if you haven't’ read it so cover your ears now - is that spot, who is a dog, is running, and we are seeing that. I can’t wait to see what happens next, personally,” I said, making a great show of licking my fingers and turning the page.

“Ooh! I love this part!” Said a voice from above, a voice belonging to Pinkie, her head popping out of the tree with no warning whatsoever. I reacted accordingly:

“Jesus Christ!”

She then promptly fell from the tree and landed with an audible splat in my lap. I did not want to know why she went splat. I hoped to God it was just for the comedic value, given that was what she seemed to run on in lieu of anything us mortals might require.

It goes without saying that she also managed to land in the perfect sitting position, precisely placed so that I was holding the book in front of her. You could not have pulled it off better if you’d planned it for six months.

Fuck teleporting I want that magic. If it even is magic.

“He’s still running!” Pinkie gasped in shock, hooves pressed to her cheeks, eyes wide. I checked the book to verify.

“That he is. Think that word’s ‘Continue’ - not really a word for kids, is it? Or is it? I have no frame of reference. ‘Continue...to...see Spot run’. Pulse-steadying stuff.”

At least Spot looked like he was having a good time.

“Quick! Turn the page! I have to find out what happens!” Pinkie said with great urgency, tugging on my wrist, trying to coax me into doing her bidding.

“I thought you knew what happened?” I asked.

“I do! But it might have changed! Quick!”

I could naught but obey and, turning another page, was rewarded with another, louder gasp from Pinkie.

“HE’S STILL RUNNING!”

Make that Spot and Pinkie having a good time.

“Is that Pinkie I can hear?” Rarity asked, coming up out of my blindside and reacting with pleasant surprise on finding the three of us lurking on the other side of the tree. “Oh! Hello. Fancy bumping into you here!”

Was I sitting at a crossroads? What was this?

“Hello Rarity,” I said while Applejack tipped her hat in greeting. Pinkie raised a hoof and waved hap-hazardly, nearly catching me in the face.

“Hi Rarity! I’d say hello but I’m engrossed in a mile-a-minute plot! John! Turn the page! Anything could happen!” She said, prodding me on the nose while tapping my wrist again.

Again, how could I say no? I turned the page and Pinkie let out a lower gasp this time, the gasp of the truly shocked.

“He’s stopped running…” She said, awed, moving her face towards the book until her muzzle was barely an inch away, as though proximity might allow her some greater understanding of what had just happened. I, helpless adrift like a raft at sea, looked to Rarity and smiled, beleguard. She smiled back, politely, and asked:

“Um, is there a particular reason you are sat under a tree reading a foal’s book, John? Not that I mean to denigrate how you choose to spend your time! It is simply, ah, unexpected…?”

“John’s brushin’ up on readin’ Mareain,” Applejack cut in. I looked over at her. What gives, lady? Undermining me in front of the cool kids?

“Did I do something wrong to you?” I asked her.

“I kinda just like watchin’ you squirm,” she said.

“That’s...deeply unsettling…”

It really was.

“He doesn’t know how to read? But I thought he - I thought you’d been fixed up, good as new! You don’t know how to read?” Rarity asked, astounded, looking from Applejack and then to me, disbelief and mild pity written plain across her features.

At what point should I feel personally attacked. I gritted my teeth and, finally, surrendering, closed the book. Who can read under these conditions anyway? Under this relentless assault?

Pinkie was audibly dismayed, but she got over it pretty quickly, resolving her to just contentedly curl up on my lap and - from the sound of things - go to sleep.

“I can read, I just can’t read this. I’m what you might call functionally illiterate. At least around here. If I was writing in English I’d write rings around the lot of you. Then you’d feel my pain,” I said, wagging a finger at Rarity who was entirely unruffled.

“I’m sure we would, darling,” she said, patting me on the head. I sat there and took it like the big boy I was.

“Why do I put up with this…”

“Because you’re a softy?” Pinkie suggested, not having apparently gone to sleep (or having woken up), reaching up to pat my cheek, presumably just so I was being patted twice. I looked to Applejack on the off-chance she felt the need to join in and pat some other part of my skull. Thankfully, she did not, and was just watching the other two, unimpressed.

“...fair play. Again. Goddamnit, you guys got me dead to rights, you do,” I said.

It’s the eyes. And the voices. And the honest-to-goodness fucking sincerity of the bastards. Gets me every time it does. Some more than others, admittedly, but as a whole they really do seem to be a weakness of mine.

They’re just so bloody nice!

Rainbow Dash then arrived, zooming in from somewhere and coming to a dead halt in a rush of wind that had all of us scrunching up our eyes.

“What’s everyone doing hanging out here? Did I miss something? Oh, hi John - what’s with the book for babies?” She asked, flapping in place and pointing to the book still held, now closed, in my hand.

Fuck, is this an intervention? By accident? Into my literacy?

“I’m just doing a little light reading and I thought doing it outside would be a pleasant and relaxing experience. More fool me,” I said, brushing off some of the dust that Dash’s arrival ahd kicked up.

“Yeah! And I’ll have you know the Spot-verse is deep, rich and compelling!” Pinkie declared. I looked down at her.

“Think you might be overselling the bit there, Pinkie.”

She looked up at me and blinked in honest confusion.

“What bit?”

“Nevermind,” I said, giving her hair a little ruffle and getting a squeak out of her for my reward. Delightful!

“Hey guys, is something happening?” Twilight asked, being as she was now the next one to arrive, wandering up out of nowhere.

That’s it. This tree is cursed. Or I’m cursed. There’s no other explanation for this.

“Hello Twilight,” I said, having given up caring at this point. Leaf on the wind. Wherever and whatever happens, there I am.

At least Twilight looks happy, and when Twilight looks happy everything does feel that much better. Can even take the edge off of sitting underneath what is obviously the cursed tree of contrived coincidences.

“Hello John, what’s up?” She asked.

“I was reading. It’s now become some sort of group mockery session. I’m the target. Welcome,” I said, spreading my arms. Rarity huffed.

“Mockery indeed! As though we’d be so harsh,” she said.

“I could be harsher,” Rainbow said, as though she’d only been warming up. In fairness to her she had just arrived moments ago.

“How is the reading going?” Twilight asked, ignoring both of them. She’d been clearly ever-eager to ask but equally ever-aware that asking too much might be seen as badgering, so had held back. This though was a perfect excuse to ask and so she’d leapt on it.

“He’s startin’ over, he says,” Applejack said before I could say anything. I glared at her, but she just smiled back. After all that tool-fixing I did for her? To betray me like this? With words? Why Applejack, why?

I didn’t get drunk and insult her choice of headwear, did I? You think I’d remember something like that...

Twilight blinked, perplexed, head cocked.

“Starting over?” She asked.

Way to grass me up, Applejack, yeesh.

“I may have been a little lax in my studies as I think I’ve mentioned before. But - but! - I just need a little refreshing. Then I’ll be back to where I got last time and back on to improving. Scout’s honour,” I said, holding up a hand. Which I assumed was what you were meant to do when you said that.

What with me never having been a scout and all. What with me never having had an abundance of honour.

For whatever reason what I’d said perked Twilight up immediately.

“Oh! Do you want some help? I can help! We can sit down together and, uh, I can help!” She said, brightly, with overwhelming enthusiasm. The others looked at her sideways. Rarity smirked, Pinkie stifled a giggle by cramming both hooves into her mouth and Applejack rolled her eyes. Presumably I was missing something important, some in-joke.

“Um, if you’re offering. And if you’re not busy, obviously! Wouldn’t want to distract you.”

“Not a distraction! It’s fine! I have plans for this!” She said, clearly extraordinarily excited that this had come up.

This did not surprise me in the least, her having plans. I was, after all, already operating within the learning structures of her previous plan. Agreeably I was doing a cackhanded job of it but that was my fault, not Twilight’s. Twilight is tops, the problem lies with me.

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“Of course! We can start right now! Or, uh, later if you prefer. Whatever works for you! Oh, I have to go and prepare, get everything ready. Um, you can come over later if you like? Wait, you stay at the castle, don’t you? You’ll be coming there anyway/ Haha! Forgot! Silly. I’ll - um - I’ll go get it ready. Yeah. It’s not a distraction, I planned for this. See you later!”

And off she galloped. I was a tad stunned, honestly.

Couldn’t she fly?

“Whoa. If I knew she was going to get that excited I’d have asked her sooner - did you see her little face light up?” I asked, looking about at the others. None of them met my eye. Weird.

“Yeah, if nothing else is happening then I got some stuff I could be doing. See you guys later,” Rainbow said before zipping off as quickly and as gustily as she had arrived.

“You were here for, like, thirty seconds!” I called after her, but to no avail for she was long, long gone. Meanwhile in my lap Pinkie was tapping her chin.

“I think I left the oven on. Should probably check that. Have fun learning to read, John! And don’t let anyone spoil the ending!”

She then, accompanied by the sound of a spring, shot straight up back into the tree which rustled briefly, shedding a couple leaves. I assumed this meant that she was also long, long gone.

“What,” I said, clutching at straws, looking to Rarity or Applejack for something, anything, but they appeared almost (but not quite) as lost as I was.

Rarity recovered first:

“Yes, well, I suppose there are things we could all be getting on with, hmm? I imagine we shall run into one another soon enough! Oh, and do have fun with Twilight, John,” she said, capping it off with another smirk as she turned to leave. As she left I held my hands up before me, as though begging the universe itself for answers.

As is typically the case the universe did not deign to provide any. I search for meaning in the meaningless. How absurd of me.

That just left Applejack. I turned to her.

“This has been a very peculiar morning. And that’s by my standards,” I said.

And I’d been kidnapped before! And fallen through dimensions. My standards were high.

“Things did go a little strange a lotta fast,” she said, tipping back her hat.

“That’s because I am the axis about which this whole universe turns, Applejack,” I said with as much straight-faced bluster as I could muster. I was basically Zaphod Beeblebrox - most important thing alive!

Though, actually, that was because he was in a fake universe in which he was the most important thing, wasn’t it? And I really don’t think that’s the case with me.

Importantly Applejack got that I was joking and chuckled appropriately.

“Sorry for raggin’ on ya back then,” she then said with obvious contrition but I waved her off. I could take a joke and it had all been a joke, so no harm done.

“Oh it’s fine, it was pretty funny. Guessing you’ve got important stuff to go do now, as well?” I asked.

“Ah do,” she said. So folksy! “Just saw ya while I was walkin’ ‘tween errands and figured I’d see how you were doin’. Then all that happened.”

“It did indeed. Well, off you toddle, don’t let me keep you. Got anything down the farm that needs fixing?”

I did still do that for her now and then, as required. Now I had steadier hands I was probably a little better at it, in contrast to my toy-making abilities. So that was nice. I could fix a bucket like a motherfucker.

“Not right now. Maybe end o’ the week?”

I nodded.

“I’ll swing round then, sound good?” I asked.

She nodded. Business nods, for we were serious people talking about serious things. Like buckets that needed fixing but not yet.

“Sounds good. See ya later, John,” she said, turning and waving and departing. I waved too.

And, once she was gone, I let out a breath.

“Can’t say Ponyville’s boring,” I said to myself. Just me about the book again.
Of course, I then looked about just in case anyone was hiding and waiting to pounce - Celestia, mainly, as she seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in scaring the pants off of me all the time - but was pretty definitively alone.

Ideal reading conditions.

I started over, being as how I’d kind of lost my place in the fast-paced, twist-a-minute plot. Wouldn’t want to get to the end and not understand it because I’d missed some vital piece of the story, would I?

“Alright Spot, Pinkie says you’re going to deliver, don’t let me down. See...Spot...run. Hah! I’ve got this in the bag.”

By the time I went to Twilight I wouldn’t even need help!

...probably...

We stand up, late at night

Author's Note

Oof, now this is a fruitcake-dense slice of rambling balderdash. But then again, that is kind of the point of the whole thing, so if that's not your bag then you're not here reading it anyway (or shouldn't be, or else you're in for a bad time).

That, and we have to plough through this sort of stuff to get to the good bits. Like Umbra. Ahem.

It's always encouraging when the person writing is like "Yeah, this bit ain't great but watch this space" isn't it? But what I get out of writing it isn't what you get out of reading it.

Why am I still talking?! It's infected the AN, too! Run!

We stand up, late at night

We started later.

By the time I wandered back to Twilight’s she’d gathered and set up all the bits she apparently needed. And apparently she needed bits at all, which was news to me. To say that she was exhibiting enthusiasm about the time we had ahead of us would be underselling it. Lovely girl, Twilight.

So, after a natter and a quick bite to eat - God I love this pace of life - we got down to business. The business of words.

I was unsure that you could actually, physically teach someone to read a whole language in one evening, but the structure of what Twilight had put together plainly disagreed. It seemed to suggest that by this point I should already be bounds ahead - leaps ahead!

I was neither.

The Spot book seemed to be about my limit, by all accounts.

Ah, not strictly true I suppose. We had at least managed to move on from that one, up an age bracket or two and away from the adventures of dogs, but this was where I could feel myself starting to scrape the ceiling. And oh my did it feel bad! All I needed was a nice cone hat and a stool in the corner, fuck me.

It’s a book for kids! Slightly bigger kids, but still! Come on man!

But no, no, nothing. Like trying to push a tuna sandwich through a brick wall. Just not going in, nothing going through and the harder you try the bigger the mess you make.

I had to put the book down.

“Can we take a break? Just a minute,” I asked, rubbing my face.

Twilight - who’d been half doing something else while half keeping an eye on my progress - was pulled into completely keeping an eye on me by this, coming on over.

“Sure! How are you getting - oh, uh, still on this one?”

Oof. She tried not to sound mildly disappointed but I have a keen sense for that sort of thing, could smell it a mile off, could see it before it even happened.

“I’m probably not much good for this, Twilight. I’m kind of an idiot in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Oh no, that got her scowling.

“Don’t say that. You’re not. You’re just starting, that’s all. No-one is good at the start.”

“Some people are,” I said, side-stepping how I was technically restarting, really, and shouldn’t have been at the start anyway. Lazy me!

And I think I was starting to push my luck here as she gave me quite the sharp look. Oops. I’m sorry! I can’t help it! It’s a reflex!

Never miss a chance to shit on yourself. It’s like never pass up food because you never know when you’ll get to eat next - never don’t do yourself down! Otherwise people might leave thinking you have a good opinion of your capabilities, and that’d be awful.

Still, Twilight ploughed on, ever-patient with me:

“Exceptions exist, but they’re not what you should use to measure your own success. If you do, everything will always seem like it’s not good enough and you’ll find it harder to even try. And it’s always worth trying! Just have to do the best you can, push a little harder every time and allow yourself to feel proud of your success.”

Had to grin at that. How could you not? Such a little ray of bloody sunshine, her. Lovely girl. Reached over and gave her hair a ruffle, much to her surprise and her blushing consternation.

“Check out the wisdom on Twilight! That’s me told!” I said.

She meant well, lovely girl. And she had a point, too!

For everyone else, mind, not for me. I was an idiot. Exception that proved the rule. Black swan and all that.

“You’re just too harsh on yourself…” She mumbled, still just a touch luminescent. Oh these ponies! Forever going red! Well, Twilight at least. Perhaps she was unusually susceptible for some mysterious reason.

“It’s a habit. Still. Maybe some of it has sunk in? Uh, let’s see…”

I pulled the book in and also some parchment - parchment! Such novelty - and started jotting. Twilight watched, bemused and baffled.

“Um,” she said.

“I am,” I said, concentrating unnecessarily hard (you ever written with a quill? Why was it even a quill? I was fairly sure they had pens. I hadn’t imagined seeing them, had I?). “Copying out that sentence there from the book over here on this sheet, in English. To demonstrate the, uh, growth of my understanding. Or something.”

That sounded convincing, right?

I wasn’t, clearly. I was setting up for a joke. But she didn’t have to know that yet. Instead, her interest piqued, she watched me patiently until I’d finished and sat back.

“There you go,” I said, gesturing to my still-fresh scrawl. She peered at it.

“So that’s this, but in English?” Twilight asked, pointing to the book and to the sheet in order and looking surprisingly thrilled. Knowing what I’d actually done I couldn’t help but feel a little bad. But only a little.

“More or less,” I said.

“So what’s this word?” She asked, pointing to a particular word. I looked at the particular word.

“Bum. As in posterior,” I said, thinking it best to be clear on this.

Whatever glee and excitement had filled Twilight’s face promptly vanished, replaced with stony disapproval. It might have had something to do with the fact that ‘bum’ (as in posterior) had not appeared anywhere in the chosen sentence. Maybe.

Who’s to say?

“John,” she said, putting so much weight into the word you could have used it to keep a pile of important documents from blowing away in a stiff breeze. I did my best not to grin at the look on her face.

“What? I couldn’t think of a direct translation.”

I might have imagined it but I’m pretty sure she was trying not to smile. I hope so, at least. Certainly, I did see her look at the word again - probably committing it to memory! It was important, after all.

“Do you miss it?” She asked, out of nowhere and after a few seconds. I blinked, this swerve leaving me twisting in the wind, so to speak.

“Home?” I asked, for clarification, on the off-chance she meant something else. Like being locked in a tower. Urgh. If she meant that I did not miss that. Gave the table a little tap, too. She nodded though, which meant that she was asking about home.

Figured.

Heavy question. Well, for most people, probably. For me not so much. Answer is a pretty abrupt ‘No, not really’. I’m sorry, man, it’s just the way it is. Put up those cosmic scales, pile what you got here on one side, what you left behind on the other, which way does it hilt?

Fuck, thing falls over, probably.

I do hate this question though. Everyone keeps kind of tip-toeing around - or hoof-toeing around it? No, that doesn’t work - and everytime they bring it up I just...

...deflate…

There’s only so much I can say! Or think!

This place is great! I got it all! We been over this, yeah? Pick an aspect or angle of my life and I can show you how, here in horse-land, it is objectively improved over what I had before. Free from want, worry, smothered in affection whichever way I turn, drowning in friends and nice people, every day worth waking up to see.

Ye Gods!

Back home? Hmm.

Mean, who wouldn’t miss working for Southern Rail? And going home alone? Losing track of which day it is because each one is so bloody similar to every other one they start to blur together? Enjoying your birthday sat on your sofa on your Todd and genuinely for a good five minutes actually forgetting how old you are until you look to check? Isn’t that the dream?

Hah. Ha. Haaaa…

So no! No contest! No fucking contest! No I don’t miss it!

I understand the place I left! I get it now, now I got all me faculties returned to me. I understand it! But I don’t fucking miss it! Jesus, the more I think about it the less I miss it! My life couldn’t have gone in a better direction! Luckiest man a-fucking-live!

Should probably look like you’re giving Twilight’s question some thought, though.

“Hmm,” I said, looking like I was thinking about it. “No.”

From the look on her face I could kind of tell she hadn’t been expecting that answer.

“Oh. Um, okay,” she said. A pause, but the pregnant kind so I could tell she was gearing up for the next bit: “Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You, Twilight, can always ask me anything. And just because I didn’t leave anything behind worth missing, really. This place is tops, beats home hands-down, no question.”

“Don’t you miss your friends?” She asked. Makes sense she would. Probably contractually obliged to. I had an answer ready, too:

“To miss one’s friends one must first have friends.”

Why did I put it like that? What a mouthful.

“You don’t have friends back home?” Twilight asked, evidently completely taken aback.

“Nope.”

“None?”

“Nope.”

Stopping talking to people will do that. And being personally objectionable. Combine those and, well, yeah. What could stand against it? It’s a winning combination.

Twilight was clearly set to probe further, more tentatively, this round of questioning evidently not going how she’d pictured it in her head. Which did lead me to wonder how it had meant to go in her head. Which lead further into me wondering just what the inside of her head looked like in general.

But now I was getting distracted, and Twilight continued:

“Oh, uh, family?” She asked.

Urgh…I should have issued a fucking press release at this rate. I’m going to have to through this with everyone...

“Dad’s a nice guy but he lives the other side of the planet. We’re related, we get along fine. That’s about the breadth of our relationship,” I said.

“Mom?” Twilight asked, voice carrying the merest glimmer of hope for maybe a positive answer. Sorry to disappoint, love.

“Mum hasn’t done much in a good few years now. Very quiet. Mostly just lies around all the time,” I said.

Twilight wasn’t sure how to take this, and played it safe.

“...I...see?”

“She’s dead, Twilight. That’s a joke,” I said.

I’m allowed to make those sorts of jokes.

“Oh,” she said, and then it sunk in. “Oh! Oh John I’m sorry!”

People always said this or something like this. I got what they meant and, really, what else can you say? They’re not allowed to make the jokes, hah.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Years ago. Don’t even worry about it.”

“...sib...lings…?” She asked, wincing, knowing what answer was coming.

She was clutching at straws at this point and she clearly knew it.

“Nope, sorry, just me. Point I’m trying to make Twilight is that I don’t have anything to miss, it’s fine. Apart from nearly dying on arrival - and, really, worse things could have happened to me - this whole thing is likely the best way things could have gone for me. Certainly better than I could have done myself! And I’m going to make a go of it, I am.”

“Oh. Okay,” Twilight said in the way someone who has no idea what they’re meant to say says. Poor girl. I mean, I know she kind of brought this on herself but how was she to know?

Best wrap this up and keep things moving.

“My life back home wasn’t bad, I mean. I wasn’t good either, really. It wasn’t anything. It just was, and even only barely. Living definition of background noise, that was me. Just chugging along, keeping going. Would I trade back? Fuck no. Jesus Christ, no. Shit me, no. They’d have to drag me kicking and screaming.”

Mean, shit man, how many people out there with shittier lives than you and you were the one to luck out? Get this? You. You! What did you do, eh? What a cunt.

Still though, take that, fuckers! John wins again! Didn’t even have to do shit!

Twilight was looking at me with low-key alarm. I blinked.

“Sorry. Think I got a little, ah, blue there. Just seem to be going through this conversation with people in turn and every time I do I get a little more, ah, heated. Guess I’m dwelling on it. Point is - and this is important point is I like it here. Got everything going for me,” I said, and at this point I started counting off on my hand, thumb first, obviously. “Got the love of a good horse-woman, that’s one, that’s a big one. Got friends and well-wishers up the wazoo, that’s two. Got you specifically, Twilight. That’s a whole one on it’s own because you’re so great, so that’s three. And then it just keeps going. Weather’s good. I’m taller than everyone. I don’t have to read about someone taking their dog for a walk and finding a corpse in the bushes. Uh, I make these weird little stuffed toy things and kids dig them and their cute ickle faces just light up. I’m - I’m - fuck, I’ve lost count.”

“...corpse?” Twilight asked, eyes wide.

Out of all I’d just said why did she have to latch onto that bit?

“Whoops. Heh, slip of the tongue. You know, I’m all over the place today I really am. Sorry Twilight, I’m lowering the mood. And you put all this effort in! Urgh. Let’s get cracking again. We can at least get through another two stages on this plan of yours,” I said, briskly rubbing my hands and dragging over everything that looked the least-bit useful.

This did seem to distract Twilight from asking more questions about dead bodies, so success.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to,” she said. I waved her off and flipped through to try and find again where I’d got up to, having stupidly closed the book at some point. It didn’t take long. It was, after all, a book for children.

“Nah, come on, you put real effort into this, Twilight, like I said. Least I can do is try some effort on my part. And much as I am loathe to admit it you have a point - I’m not a complete idiot. I’m sure I can, ah, do okay.”

If I tried really hard.

“That’s…! That’s sort of the spirit, heh,” Twilight said, managing a weak smile despite my unending, relentless self-deprecation. Seriously, this was a particularly bad day for it, but failing to read a book will do that, I find.

Hell, failing anything really. Takes steel in the spine to push through failure and you can’t reach success without doing that! Or so I’m told. And my spine is made of balsa wood.

“Step in the right direction?” I suggested, waggling my eyebrows at her. That did get a giggle.

I live for those.

“Something like that. You do know you can talk to me about anything, right? You don’t have to worry about it and you don’t have to do the, well, uh…” she said, tailing off, plainly having difficulty defining what it was I supposedly did.

I wasn’t sure what she was implying.

“I’m not sure what you’re implying,” I said.

“Nevermind. Just, you know, anytime you want to talk - really talk, I mean - I’ll always be there. Okay?”

I winked and gave her some of my best finger-guns.

“Okay,” I said.

The finger-guns had perhaps over-egged the pudding. Conversation faltered awkwardly. Twilight cleared her throat.

“Um, so where were you up to again?”

So that got rolling. I listened to what she said and did what she suggested I do and actually concentrated. It was good to concentrate. For one it meant that her efforts (lovely girl, Twilight) weren’t being wasted, for another it meant I could ignore the swathe of what we’d just talked about.

Which was ideal.

Fuck home, man. Remember when I’d been scared of getting those memories back? Perhaps afraid of finding out I’d left behind all this stuff I’d want to get back to? Now I got it back and it’s all stuff I’m more than glad to leave behind? You lucky cunt, like I said. Couldn’t have had a cleaner break if you’d cheated. Fucking flawless!

Except for dad, obviously. But we’re getting to that. And no-one has to know about that yet. They’d just worry more! Look at Twilight already! She was already worrying! Asking questions! Caring!

Play it cool, son, just play it cool. For some reason. It makes perfect sense now and I’m sure one day we can all look back on this and laugh. Once everything has somehow worked out and it’s the future and it isn’t a problem anymore.

Oh God, now you’re thinking about the future. Stop!

Yes, Celestia’s going to outlive you! You’ll get to enjoy that when it happens! We knew that already! What’s wrong with you! Stop thinking about that! Reading! Think about the reading!

Hey, wait a second. Twilight’s an Alicorn too, ain’t she? She’s going to outlive me, too!

Fuck!

Ah whatever. What can I do about it? Least I’ll have consistent company.

Let’s just read this children’s book. You can do that. I know that even you can do that. Children’s book today, tomorrow, advanced magical theory or whatever. Mastery of transdimensional portals and travel. Then a letter to dad telling him you’re alive, then everything’ll be sorted and you can have a nap. Right? Right.

Yeah. That sounds plausible to me.

Fooling yourself

Author's Note

Looking back over this story (and Bedbound) I was reminded that it is has always been cod-philosophical rambling twaddle so I didn't feel so bad about squeezing out more twaddle. That is, after all, rather the point of the story. Isn't it?

Also John is an odd fish. Will cheerfully accept the sort of thing most people would be upset by and yet will tie himself in knots for very bad reasons, fully aware that he's doing it. Suppose that's his character.

What a twat.

Fooling yourself

The plan was this, or something like this:

My schedule (such as it is, if it can even be called that) is due to have me going back to Canterlot in a few days, to go and take up space there and bother Celestia. Until then I was going to stick with Twilight, stick with the lessons, get my eye in.

And when I wasn’t doing that I was going to start having a sneaky peek at some of those fancy tomes of hers. She’d given me carte blanche to peruse her selection, after all, so why not? I doubt she’d had the ones I had in mind, uh, in mind but there you go. I’d get Spike to point them out to me, he’d probably know.

Could I even read them? Hum. Hmm.

As much as I might like to shit on myself - and I like to do that a lot - I’d actually made a smidgen of progress with Twilight’s lessons, something I put wholly down to her being wonderful and not to any particular effort on my part. Lovely girl, Twilight.

The upshot being that I probably could give a fair shake at reading books above a child’s level, now. If I checked the notes I’d made during those lessons, obviously, and if I went slow. And if I skipped a few of the words I just didn’t know. And if I was happy with vaguely understanding what was written down instead of exactly understanding.

But still! Progress! Right? Right.

So I was optimistic about my chances of gleaning something useful from these thick volumes of eldritch, arcane lore. Learning something about the nature of magic itself and how it worked here, about multiple universes and how to get from one to the next, or at least how to send a letter from one to the next. Getting a reasonable grasp on all that. All in the few days I had remaining before I went back.

The step after that was hazy, but the step after that step was clear: send letter to father telling him I’m fine and happy in vague terms, draw a line under the whole thing, live happily ever after.

That was the plan.

The plan wasn’t good. I’m fully aware the plan isn’t good.

Given my meagre goals - sending a letter! I only wanted to send a letter. One letter - there were dozens of better ways of going about it. Scores, probably. Whatever is higher than a score. Lots, is the point, but I was sticking with the bad plan that shut out any possibility of outside help and most chance of success.

Because…

Oh I don’t know. A simmering cauldron of reasons. Some I’d already gone over. That nagging sensation that just going and running to Celestia or Twilight about it was somehow not what I should do. Because it was a cop out, for one. Feels like dusting my hands of the thing, just palming it off.

I know I know that it’s okay to ask for help, I know that. But I know that’s not what’ll happen here. It’ll just get plucked out of my hands completely because I’m inept, so they’ll end up doing all of it, whatever it turns out to require. And I’ll just sit on the sidelines with my thumb up my arse feeling useless.

Mean, I am useless, but at least if I’m wasting time I feel less useless. Keeps me distracted.

So that’s one reason. And for another if I did bring it up to them then they’d probably think that I was heavily invested in the results of the plan, then they’d probably put effort into seeing me succeed. Pulling out the stops because they thought that I really wanted things to work, thinking that I’d be put out if it didn’t. Going to all that trouble because of me!

Oh God! It hardly bears thinking about!

Mean, there’s no guarantee it’s even possible in the first place, is there? Who knows! Maybe there is no way back home for me or for letters to my father! Maybe what got me here was a one-off! Maybe that’s it! Maybe I’m here for good!

But how long might it take to find that out if they got started on it? Would me bringing it up have Twilight and Celestia toiling away at this for years only to find out in a couple of decades it’s impossible? The wasted time!

And they’d think they’d failed me! They’d be so sad! For me! I know that’d happen! Oh God!

Then again could turn out to be eminently possible and only take a weekend. Who knows! But that’s not a roll of the dice I want to take, not with them, even if I know they’d be more than willing. Especially because I know they’d be more than willing.

Is this making any sense to you? To me? Am I convinced?

This way at least it’s only my time I’m wasting.

And what if they think it’s because I want to go back? What if they start to think I’m unhappy here? What if they think that me wanting to send a letter is just me being too coy to ask to get sent back myself? What if the seeds of doubt get sown and they forever worry that I’m only here for their sake or something? Oh God.

Oh God. Oh God!

There’s just too much! And that’s not even getting into dad! What if years have passed back home somehow? What if he’s dead? What if everyone’s dead? What if time hasn’t passed at all? What if it’s been seconds? I don’t know! That’s a whole other layer of stuff I don’t know! I’m buried beneath layers of things I don’t know!

And normally that’s fine but right now it’s horrifying! There’s so many things I could do wrong! There’s so many things I probably am doing wrong! Right now! Right this instant!

Oh God!

Can you imagine how much worse this conversation would be if anyone else was involved?!

So no, no. No. No no. Just me. Just me. Win or lose by myself on this one. No-one else has to worry. Only I have to worry. And I’m not worried. I’m just doing what I think is best, even if I know it’s probably the worst. It’s fine.

So that’s the plan.

And that’s why I’m sitting here in the library portion (well, one of the library portions, there were several) of Twilight’s fancy castle, squinting at a book line by line and taking notes. Spike had indeed helped me, pointed me right to what I asked for. Solid lad, Spike. No questions at all.

And I’m taking these notes and I’m checking my own notes on how to read in the first place and I’m starting to get a headache when this soft weight flumphs right onto my back, out of bloody nowhere, purple legs going over my shoulders and around my neck.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Gah!”

Ponies! Always sneaking up on me! All of them! All the time!

Maybe I’m the problem?!

Anyway. That would be Twilight, flying in judging by the angle, latching onto me from behind. Scared the bloody life out of me she did, she’d as bad as Celestia. At least she doesn’t seem to do it on purpose.

“Light reading,” I said. First thing I could manage to think of to say.

“‘Light’ reading?” She said with the cutest of cute chuckles. “These don’t look that light. Actually - why are you reading about magic?” She asked, all trace of the cute chuckle quickly having dried up once she’d actually seen what it was I was leafing through.

Quick! Think of something that isn’t true but also isn’t an outright lie!

“Oh you know, idle curiosity.”

Twilight detached herself and flapped around to come in beside me, giving the array of books I was working from a painful level of attention. Maybe I’d got greedy.

“These aren’t really idle curiosity books,” she said, giving me a sideways look. A sideways look that seemed to be coming dangerously close to suspicious.

Quick! Think of another lie! I mean, think of another angle on the truth!

“You got me there, Twilight. Alright, well, fine, it’s just a little thing - stupid really - but the other day I was thinking about you lot and all your magic and stuff and I thought to myself that it might be, you know, good if I could, uh, do that too. Stupid, like I say, but here we are.”

Technically you could argue that wanting to know how to send a letter through dimensions is wanting to learn how to use magic, so really I am telling the truth. Twilight’s sideways look before a front-on look.

“You’re trying to learn magic?” She asked, puzzled with a blink, head tilted just a little.

“Yes?” I said, seeing how it landed. Twilight continued to look more confused than anything else. Could have been worse.

“Didn’t you say that there was no magic in your world?” She asked.

I had a feeling the word ‘magic’ was going to feature a lot in my immediate future.

“If there was I never saw it, that’s for certain,” I said.

Home had always seemed a pretty sterile, uninspiring place to me, devoid of tangible magic. Sure, we could always wave our hands at a rainbow and wax lyrical about how magical it was, but waving our hands around and shooting rainbows from our fingertips never happened. At least not that I saw.

Maybe magic had always been lurking around the corner? Maybe there was tonnes of it just inches away, waiting for me to fiddle around with it if only I’d known the surprisingly simple methods involved? Maybe everyone else was in on the joke except for me? Maybe magic just wanted to avoid me personally?

Wouldn’t surprise me a whole lot, that last one.

Twilight shifted. This I saw her do out the corner of my eye.

“So, um, can humans even - I mean, how would you know if can - can you even, um...”

She was being delicate here, I could tell. Or trying to be. How does the man who’s never shown so much as a hint of even academic sorcerous aptitude - from a world with no magic or (let’s be open-minded) so little magic as to find it very thin on the ground indeed - expect to start doing this? How does he even expect to be able to at all?

Good questions, honestly.

Probably should have thought of that earlier. Oops.

Oh well! Too late no! Committed.

“Never know until you try, Twilight. Maybe coming here will trigger some latent potential I never knew I had! This time next year could be a wizard! I had the robes for it. Still do, somewhere. And it’s something to do, isn’t it?” I said.

Twilight did not not appear especially convinced by any part of this.

“I guess…”

She looked quietly thoughtful for a moment but then brightened up considerably as a thought plainly occurred to her. The sight of her brightening up considerably managed to brighten me up, albeit not considerably. But still, a little bit!

She just looked so bloody cute!

“If it works - if you can - then I can teach you!”

Her cuteness then dipped ever-so-slightly into self-aware bashfulness, therefore making it even more cute! Almost too cute! She was even self-consciously rubbing the back of her head! Gah! How can a man stand against such sights?

“That’s if you’re not sick of me teaching you, heh…”

Oh Twilight!

“Would never have thought of going to anyone else. And you’re a wonderful teacher, Twilight. I could never get sick of you,” I said, giving her a ruffle and one of those scratches behind the ears all of these ponies seemed to enjoy so much. Certainly did the trick, perked her right up it did. She even went all red again!

God she really is the picture of adorable. I could just devour her tip to tail.

Her spirits buoyed, Twilight flapped in from beside me to come to standing on my lap (without even asking! Such boldness), forehooves resting on the edge of the table I was using, the better to see what it was I was doing. I was left staring at the back of her head.

“Theoretical Dimensional Theory? That’s kind of getting ahead of yourself, isn’t it? Not even sure how that’d be relevant...”

Hoiking her up by the forelegs I turned her in place so she was now facing me, something she took with a good level of grace all things considered.

“I’m rather taking this at my own pace, just feeling things out. Probably pulled out a few books I shouldn’t have but right now I’m just sort of seeing if anything’s ringing any bells, you know?” I said.

Kind of true.

I expected more of a pushback on that but instead all I got was a blink and then a big smile.

“Okay! If you need any help at all just ask me, alright? Anything at all! Are we still having another reading lesson later? If you’re doing this maybe you don’t need to anymore...”

“I’ll take all the help I can get on the reading, Twilight, so I shall most certainly see you later, yes,” I said.

The smile got bigger somehow!

“Great!”

Then I got a hug! A proper one this time, not one from behind and around the neck. This time I got to hug back, right proper.

Twilight is an excellent size for hugging. Don’t get me wrong, Celestia’s clearly the best - clearly! - and if I could get away with it I’d happily end my days latched onto her, but there is a lot to be said for hugging someone of Twilight’s size. Portable! And you can really get the arms around and squeeze good. And she’s so warm! Oh! It’s lovely!

Wait, wasn’t there that fish where the male latches onto the female and eventually just atrophies away into a pair of testicles or something?

Bah, I ruined the hug now. And then it broke. Twilight looked happy though, so it wasn’t all bad.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it! And see you later, John,” she said.

Then, after a moment’s consideration, she gleefully went in for another hug. Oh! Greedy girl, Twilight! Lovely, but greedy. For hugs.

Not that I’m complaining! Second one was even better than the first!

Once the second broke she hopped off my lap, gave me a last, linger smile and then trotted off away again. Lovely girl, Twilight. I watched her go.

And once I was sure she was properly gone I put my face in my hands.

See! See how eager she’d been to offer help? This is what I’m talking about. She’d be there like a shot if I asked her for help with what I’m actually doing. Her and Celestia also. Hell, any of them would! All of them would! They’d probably all want to pitch in together! They’re all like that here!

That’s why the plan is important. I think. I’m starting to lose track.

I rub my face a bit, to see if it makes things better. It doesn’t, really.

“You know, most people probably don’t have these sorts of problems. Most people probably don’t have a clear view of what it is they want to do and then arbitrarily brick themselves off from actually doing it. Most people are probably a lot more on top of things than you are,” I said into my palms.

Yes well yes well yes well. Most people aren’t me. Lucky them.

But! I get to cuddle ponies. So lucky me!

Now, back to the plan, back to poring over these books I can barely read, taking notes that are probably wrong and chipping away at a problem that better minds than me might not even be able to solve anyway.

I think this word means ‘reality’. I think. Maybe?

No, wait, no it doesn’t. It means something else completely. I think it’s an adjective.

Or a number.

This is going great.

Everybody knows, everyone's watching

So I’m an idiot. I mean, I already knew that, suspected that, but with every passing day I’m having it confirmed to me fairly consistently. Just a big clump of idiot. A big stack of moron. Something someone rolled across the floor to pick up hair and then got to walk around like it could think, just for a joke.

My efforts are not bearing fruit, in other words.

Am I surprised? No, on reflection I am not. I knew this was going to happen. I knew from the instant I started that this was exactly how it was going to go. I can barely fucking read the language, how was I going to get anything useful about fucking magic in, what, a month? Less?

How long have I been doing this? I lose track.

The point is I can’t make heads or tails of any of it. What I can even understand, I mean. If I understood more of it I’m sure I’d understand even less. Which is to say, if I was smart enough to be able to actually get more of what it was I was reading, I’d also be smart enough to realise that most of it is several feet further above my head than it feels it is right now.

Balls. It’s complicated stuff and I’m too dim and fucking illiterate to even be able to fully grasp just how complicated so I keep plugging away like I’ve got a hope in hell.

And of course, the more I keep at it the more that pressure builds in the back of my skull telling me to just pack it in and go crawling to Celestia or Twilight or Celestia and Twilight to ask them to maybe help me out a little bit. And I can’t do that! I can’t even hint at that!

Because if that happens there’s two ways it goes. Either it turns out it’s super-easy in which I feel even dumber, or it turns out to be super-hard in which case they get all hooves on deck to help me out and I don’t want them going through all that effort for me! No! Oh God the very thought!

Phew. Calm. I know this. It’s just been nibbling at me lately what with my constant, humiliating failure and constant, nagging fear that somewhere far away, back home, my father might have discovered my absence and might at this very moment be losing his mind with worry. Assuming we’re on a one-to-one timescale here. Assuming anything.

Maybe millions of years have passed and he’s dead. Maybe I’m dead. Maybe we’re all dead. Maybe none of this is even real, just the product of some fevered imagination. Maybe I’ll eat myself alive with doubt and uncertainty and just sit frozen forever in some sort of solipsistic fugue state.

Or not.

So there’s that.

Mean, on the plus side I’m getting a little better at reading, apparently. Certainly, Twilight seems happy enough with me and my (hilariously limited) progress. She’s very complimentary, makes me blush! Lovely girl, Twilight.

“John?”

I blink. Should probably pay attention to where I am and who I’m with, rather than just stare into space and fret.

I turn. There’s Celestia in bed, sitting beside me. God she’s gorgeous. God she’s wonderful.

“Hmm? Sorry? Did you say something, lovely?” I ask.

“What are you thinking about?”

Why does she always ask me that? Why does anyone ever ask anyone that?

Hmm.

Back home - home on earth, with the humans! What a strange thing to think about! - there were these moments, usually late in the evenings, usually during summer, when the skies would be clear without a cloud to be seen and the sun would be sinking and one edge of the sky would be lit up and yellow and all the rest just one shade of blue fading to another and everything would be quite quiet and clear and cool.

And in those moments I would sometimes just stop and stare, and even if the day had been terrible I would get to enjoy that moment, because that moment would be lovely. The world seemed alright, like a nice place to be, even if in my head I could come up with a host of reasons why it really wasn’t. I could list out awful things, but I’d be seeing this wonderful sight and I’d just feel better somehow.

That’s what looking at her is like, I find. Sometimes. A lot of time. It just gets me.

And that’s what I was thinking about, looking at her.

Not going to say that though, obviously. And I’m certainly not going to be saying what I was actually thinking about before! That would be insane! Both of those options are utterly unacceptable!

“Nothing,” I said instead, and she smirked at me, clearly having seen this answer coming.

These little dances we do…

“Something is bothering you,” she said. Less an observation more a statement of fact. No wiggle room on that statement, I could tell. Any wiggling would only make it tighter.

That sounds rude. But it’s also true.

And it’s not like I wasn’t going to try and wiggle anyway.

“Me? No, never. You know me, leaf on the wind. Nothing ever bothers me.”

That’d throw anyone off the scent. Or not, as Celestia’s smirk goes away and is replaced with a look of sincere (albeit low-grade) concern. Her wings spread and her forelegs part, creating what I now recognise by sight as a me-shaped space.

“Come here.”

I know that in theory I don’t have to, being possessed of free will and all, but in reality refusing really isn’t an option. By the time I even contemplate the possibility I’m already glued to her side and her legs and wings are already around me. Leaving is utterly unthinkable. Here is warmth, outside is nothing for me. There is literally nowhere else I’d rather be.

Maybe overselling it a bit but it is very, very nice. She even kissed the top of my head.

“You smell like sunshine after rain,” I say into her ribs, digging in so I can really be sure that’s what she smells like (it is). I am most certainly not doing this because I know she’s ticklish, that she starts squirming and laughing and trying to push me away is just a strange thing I did not foresee. Of course, I keep trying anyway, to confirm my confirmation.

She really does smell like sunshine after rain, at least right then. There’s a word for that, I think. Can’t remember it.

Eventually, once I’m definitely sure, I allow myself to be restrained from digging. Her grip around me gets that little bit more snug, and I am settled into an exceedingly comfortable position. I can hear her heartbeat. I am very close to falling asleep all of a sudden.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, John, big or small,” she says. She’s using her soft tones. She’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security! All of a sudden I am very not close to falling asleep.

I still want to, obviously, or at least my body does, but my mind knows better now.

“I can talk to anyone about anything,” I said, doing my best not to yawn.

What I’d said obviously made sense. Took Celestia a second to realise it, though.

“Technically true,” she said, slowly. “But you know what I mean.”

Christ, she’s got me dead to rights. I did know what she meant!

And because I knew what she meant, actively lying about it would twist my kidneys right out the back of my torso. So to speak. That probably wasn’t her intention but that’s the bind she’s put me in. I hate lying to her. Hell, I’m avoiding telling her certain things right now and I hate that, too! I want to be open! I’m just choosing not to. For reasons that make sense only in the quote-unquote ‘comfort’ of my head and which would wither instantly if aired outside it, I know.

Eurgh.

“It’s…” I start to say.

But no. Come on! We went over this. Inside! Keep it inside!

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Just feeling a bit out of sorts, that’s all. Bit wound up, heh. I don’t know.”

Good job. Also the worst job.

You know exactly why and lying about it is making it worse. You’re lying to her. She literally saved your life. Not even a tiny bit of a joke, she really did that. If it was not for her you would be dead. And if it wasn’t for her now you probably wouldn’t even care. And you’re lying to her.

Yes but think of the alternative! Think of that face filled with high-grade concern! Think of her taking even more time out of her day for your sake! And yes yes yes I know she cares I know she loves you but there are limits, surely? There have to be! And you can’t go trying to find out what they are like that! Right? This is a very you problem, so look to it yourself! Let her get on. She’s got enough to worry about. She already worries about you!

And what’s more, think of her asking if it means you want to go home! Mean, you might say it’s just so you can send a letter, you might know that that’s actually the truth, but what if she thinks you’re just saying that, hmm? What if she thinks that’s to spare her feelings? What if she starts to think you’re staying with her on sufferance?

Oh God! I hadn’t thought of that. Had I? I can’t remember. But I am now! What if she does think it means I want to go home, even if I say otherwise? What if I can’t get the idea out of her head afterwards? What if it plants a seed? Oh God!

No no no, calm, be calm. Just keep it to yourself, keep chipping away. It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Everything’s fine. Just keep a lid on it, keep it all down there. It’ll be fine. This’ll be fine.

“Can I do anything? She asks.

Existing is enough, believe me. I don’t tell her this. I just shake my head into her.

“I am,” I said, swallowing, licking my lips, trying to swallow again and nearly choking on my tongue. With great effort I detach from her and she gives me the looseness to do so, albeit with obvious reluctance “Going to go and get a cup of tea.”

“But it’s so late,” she says, still with that low-grade concern, now inching just that bit higher. I have to look away from her face.

“I know. Sorry. Just...out of sorts. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to say sorry.”

“I know. But I keep doing it anyway. Sorry, heh.”

The deteriorating quality of this conversation is leaving me in actual physical pain.

And she looks so forlorn sitting there, clearly wanting to make me feel better. But I can’t let her! And that’s awful! Christ this is terrible. And doesn’t need to be. Or maybe it does. I don’t know anymore.

Tea. Tea will help.

“I could send for tea?” She suggests. There’s a bellpull. She’s loathe to use it normally but it seems like I’m an exception. This does nothing to make me feel better.

“No no. It’s as much for the walk as for the tea I, uh…”

I don’t know how to finish that sentence. I’m just looking at her, still sat there, still forlorn. The look on her face kind of makes me want to cry a bit. Or maybe I just want to cry a bit in general. Maybe I really am at a low ebb.

She’s still beautiful though. I cling to that.

“Love you, you know,“ I said.

“I love you too. You’ll be back soon, won’t you?”

“Oh yes, just a little potter and some tea then back. Just need...air...and tea…”

“Okay,” she says. Still concerned but resigned now to me being obstinate about it and keeping her out. Oh, don’t you feel like a big boy.

And off I go I’m not wearing trousers but really, who cares? I don’t care. I’m wearing pants, what more does life want from me?

There’s some sort of room with tea making facilities just down the corridor, I know. Or just down the corridor and around a corner, I forget. I sort of live here and the layout still cooks my noodle. Mostly I just keep walking and hope for the best. Thankfully this time the best is a couple of minutes and I’m dumbly watching a magical kettle do its thing.

I know they say you’re not meant to do that but I’m on a run of doing things you’re not meant to lately and-

“You are very easy to sneak up on.”

“Ah!”

I very nearly whack my mug off the side as I whirl and find, standing there, Luna. Fuck me! Sneaky princesses! Bane of my life! How do they do that?! They have hooves! A lot of the flooring here is hard! I made noise walking around in bare feet!

And Luna’s doing the sneaking up thing to me now, too? Doesn’t she have stuff to do during the night? Or has that not started yet? What time even is it? God I’m out of the loop. What day is it, even? My brain has turned to soup lately. If it was ever anything other than soup.

“Hello, yes?” I said, then I bit my tongue. Rude. Rude! Bad boy! “Sorry, that was short. Hello Luna, doing good?”

In fairness to me my heart was still trying to beat its way out of my chest. Luna just looked pleased with herself. I would be too in her place, honestly, so that’s fair.

“Very well. Yourself?” She asked.

Thought about being flippant. Thought about providing a standard non-answer. Decided on something bordering on honesty.

“...been better.”

Her head cocked, a little.

“Something the matter?”

My last answer had had all the honesty I could muster. I didn’t have the energy for anything like that again. The magical kettle went ‘click’. I waved a hand in its direction.

“...impatient for tea.”

“Hmm.”

She said nothing further so I got busy making tea.

“Would you like some?” I asked but she shook her head. Fair play. As I stirred I heard her step up behind me - presumably she wanted me to hear that, given that apparently all princesses can glide around like bloody ghosts.

“There was something I wished to speak with you about, John,” she said. I turned, still stirring. What on earth would Luna want to talk to me about? Now, of all times?

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“How very ominous,” I said, stopping stirring.

“It is nothing bad, though it is a serious matter.”

Serious matters are always bad in my book, but that’s my book and my book is shit, so there you go. I wouldn’t trust my book is what I’m saying.

“I’m a famously serious man. So what did you have in mind?”

She took a second to get all her words in the proper order and then said:

“Have you given much consideration to your protection?”

I blinked. This statement was so out of the blue I honestly had trouble parsing it for a second. I had to shift gears to start thinking about it. Fairly sure you could hear them grinding in my head.

“My...protection…?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, bluntly.

“Like...wearing a seatbelt or…?”

Really didn’t know where she was coming from on this one.

“As in what steps you are taking or thinking of taking to keep yourself safe,” she said. Which didn’t clear up a whole lot for me.

I mean, what? Really? This, of all things? Now? Here? And safe from what, anyway? This was not a conversation I was really in the mindset to have. On the other hand, it was a distraction, and a distraction was kind of exactly what I needed right then, so you know.

Swings and roundabouts.

“I can’t say it’s something I’ve thought about much. I can’t say I can see why I would, honestly,” I said, taking a sip and nigh-on scalding my lips. Ow.

“It is not simply for your benefit, this question. Your wellbeing is important. To my sister, to Twilight and her friends, to me. There are many who care about you, John, and the world is not always a safe place.”

“So I’ve heard but really, I’ve done pretty well so far.”

Still alive, right?

Wrong answer, apparently. Luna’s eyes narrow.

“You cannot always expect things to work out for the best, particularly if you are relying on others to be the ones to carry the weight. It is selfish.”

Hey wait, shots fired.

“I’m selfish?”

“If you continue to act the way you do, it might be said to be selfish.”

Why not just say it instead of just setting it down on the floor and pointing at it while looking away? Suppose the fact she’s not being as blunt as she always is is a sign I should be picking up on. I choose not to. A man chooses. And so do I, it seems. Sometimes.

Also, really? She’s coming at this from some angle I hadn’t even considered you could.

Mean…

...I can sort of see her point, I guess? But only if I really twist. It doesn’t sit right for me at all, doesn’t sit naturally in my head. It isn’t something that ever would have occurred to me had someone else not brought it up, is what I’m saying. One of those things.

“Well, what could I do differently?” I asked, honestly curious.

“You might consider guards.”

I winced. Horrible idea. All that effort for me?

“That seems a bit much.”

“Well then perhaps you might consider learning how to defend yourself.”

“That just seems unnecessary.”

All that effort from me?

Oh, and she gave me a look on that one. I think I was starting to annoy her.

“This is not a joke.”

“I’m aware. Really! I get where you’re coming from even if this whole thing is kind of out of nowhere, but, look, Luna - I appreciate the concern but my every waking hour is spent in the presence of the great and powerful. If I’m not here with Celestia I’m off with Twilight and her friends, regular pack of heroes. There is no time in my life that could be considered exposed and vulnerable.”

“Except right now. When I snuck up on you. And you are alone.”

Touche.

“...granted. But I am in a castle full of guards, so excuse me if I take this one risk. What brought this sudden bout of worrying anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Did seem kind of an odd thing to come at me with, especially since I doubted this was her bumping into me at random so this was instead her bumping into me on purpose specifically to talk with me about this. Guess it’s nice to know people are thinking about me but it’s still a bit weird that this was what at least one of them was thinking.

Because this is a very specific type of protection she seems to be driving at here.

“Umbra,” Luna said.

Eurgh.

“Oh. She, uh - she’s not here, is she?”

Not that I’m scared of her or anything, I’d just prefer not to get locked up again, is all.

Luna shook her head.

“No. At least not as far as we are aware. Which is sort of the point. You mentioned to my sister that she, Umbra, has eyes and ears everywhere? Was able to infiltrate agents into the castle?”

Oh yeah, that.

“Smart lady,” I said, stupidly.

“Besides which she was also able to organise your capture. Easily, too, from what I heard.”

“Well, yeah…”

Not one of my finer moments.

“Which demonstrates something of a perverse and bemusing interest in you, if nothing else, while also suggesting a broader threat to the security of our citizens. If she is able to operate so freely beneath our notice, to insert agents into places that are nominally secure, that is a definite danger. But we are talking about you now, John. Umbra is only one threat, one that has shown herself to be directly concerned with you for whatever reason, but only one. There are others, likely some we are as-yet even unaware of. You have appeared in a relatively quiet period but there are other threats in the world, other dangers. There is no telling when they may present themselves. While we will all do our best to keep you safe should anything happen - as we would for all under our protection - your...unique position is something that you should bear in mind,” she said.

This seems like a very long-form way of saying…

...something. Again, I think Luna is thinking at all of this from an angle so wildly different from my own it’s hard to get into her headspace. I sipped my tea some more. Cooler now.

“So basically - and stop me if I get any of this wrong - I should look after myself better and take steps to bolster my safety because people would be upset if I got hurt somehow? By some bad guy who might come out of the woodwork at any moment?”

What a novel concept.

Actually, wait, this relates uncomfortably to the very thing that’s already putting me in a bad mood. After all, isn’t my whole softly-softly ‘learn magic without anyone helping you so I can send a letter back home so dad won’t worry’ plan also entirely based on the idea of someone being worried about my wellbeing? Well, here we are again. Might be a slightly different shape but it’s basically the same thing, isn’t it? Dovetails uncomfortably well.

Balls, it’s coming at me from both ends! I can’t escape!

“That is more-or-less the essence of what I am saying, yes,” Luna says, because we are having a conversation and she has no awareness of what is going on inside my head (thank fuck). “And it is not something I wish to badger you about, it is simply a concern I had, and one I will continue to have until I know you are doing something about it.”

A pause, then she added, a touch more softly:

“We would all be upset if something were to happen to you, John.”

Eurgh. Button-pushing horses. Swear to God.

“I can’t even say anything flippant to that because I know it’s true. This was not how I saw my evening going,” I said, setting my mug down so I could gave my face a brisk rub.

“You were on your own. It seemed as good a time to bring it up to you as any,” said Luna.

“The best time, probably. No, no, I get it. Wouldn’t ever have crossed my mind but I guess you have to consider these sorts of things when you’re in your position, right?” I asked. She nodded. Yeah, sounds about right. “Well, that’s something else to add to my to-do list, then. I’ll - I’ll figure something out. Tomorrow. Later. Soon.”

“Sooner would be better. I will worry otherwise,” she said, then leaning in to add: “We’ll all worry otherwise.”

More button pushing!

“You’re doing that on purpose, now,” I said. She leaned back, again looking rather pleased with herself.

“I am.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“No, but the boss of you is my sister and she has told me you are a soft touch and a pushover,” she said.

“My God, Celestia sold me out. I knew I couldn’t trust her,” I said flatly, pounding a fist into my open palm with all the energy and enthusiasm of a man catching a dead fish. Got a smirk out of Luna, at least. “No, I’ll work on it. I will. Guess it makes sense given my, ah, ‘unique position’, you called it? Guess it is that. More things to think about, great.”

“What else are you thinking about?”

She’s doing that now, too!

“I don’t even know anymore. Dozens of little things. Making toys. Fixing buckets. Reading. None of it’s especially complicated but I’m not the sharpest and it’s all trying to get through my very small brain all at once. I need to go to sleep,” I said, biting on my fist to keep a yawn from escaping.

“It would not hurt. Most things are improved after a sleep.”

“Has anyone ever commended you on your wisdom, Luna?” I asked.

“Many. Not you, though. Not yet.”

“Well let this be the first time. Very wise, you.”

“Kind of you to say.”

“And as for Umbra I wouldn’t worry about her, personally. I’m hardly going to be running into her now we had this conversation, am I? That’d be far too convenient. Not even my life is that convenient! No, I’m going to be safe for a good few days at least, after this. So I wouldn’t worry about her.”

Not for the first time I got the impression Luna did not take what I’d said in the spirit in which I’d said it. Story of my life. She wouldn’t be the only one.

“Umbra is not a joke, John, and neither is your safety.”

“As I’m learning. But really, in all seriousness, she’s probably got other things to do, more important than me.”

Luna gives me a look. It is so utterly inscrutable I can’t even begin to fathom what she might be trying to convey to me. I’m too tired to try puzzling it out, so I just ask.

“What’s that look for?”

“My sister also has other, more important things to do and still finds time for you,” she says.

A pause while I think.

“...that’s not the same though,” I said.

Another pause while she lets me think some more.

“Hmm. Bear our conversation in mind,” she says.

And off she goes, to go and do her own important things. She found time for me, too! Everyone does…

Urgh. This was a failure. The whole point of me going up to go and make tea was to have a quiet moment to try and wind myself down, clear my head and all that. Instead I’m even more wound up and my head is even more full of nonsense! This is exactly what we didn’t want to happen.

What’s more my tea’s gone cold.

How long were we talking?

Oh well. I pour it away, rinse the mug out and then go sloping off back to bed, where I find Celestia gently snoozing, having slumped over sideways while waiting for me. Slumped onto my side, to boot. She looks so bloody peaceful and so bloody pretty that I do my best to try and not disturb her as I slip back under the covers. This isn’t easy, as she’s taking up basically the whole bed (a particular talent of hers) but I do my best.

All for nothing, in the event, as about a minute after I’ve torturously, silently re-inserted myself she just snuffles and shuffles and grabs hold of me in her sleep anyway and proceeds to roll over the other way while still holding me, like I’m a bloody teddy bear. Strong girl, my girl!

Oh well. Worse things have happened. Worse things than ending up back in my favourite place.

...maybe everything’s not that awful.

At least not right now. Tomorrow’s another story. But that’s future me’s problem.

Present-me is going to sleep.

Little sunshine

Author's Note

I was like "Man, I feel the need for something plotless and fluffy with Celestia in it!" and was wondering what that should be but then I remember I have a whole thing here that is nothing BUT plotless and fluffy with Celestia in it!

Thus.

Little sunshine

Do horses have laps? If they do, I’m lying on one.

If I am being honest it is probably my favourite place. Not one of my favourite places, just the favourite place. Even now as a whole, intact, you know, person, with access to all of my old non-horsey life I can still say fairly comfortably that this is my favourite place, whether it’s a lap or not.

Oh, I could pontificate on why, I’m sure. I’m sure I could come up with lots of deep and meaningful reasons why it’s my favourite place. But what would be the point of that?

It’s comfortable and it’s close to her. What more do I really need to know?

Ah, lovely.

We were on a roof, she and I. One of the roofs (rooves? I always forget) of the castle. Perks of being with someone who can fly and also teleport. My initial plan (read: polite and spontaneous request) had been - perhaps a little childishly, maybe, possibly - to go up to the highest point in the castle, just because. I should probably have noticed something in her cheerful eagerness to oblige me.

A short while of freezing my bollocks off atop what turned out to be Luna’s tower (she has a whole tower!) we’d moved to a lower, more comfortable roof, though Celestia had yet to stop grinning about it and about how funny she was. Pffbt.

She’d laid a blanket down, laid down on the blanket and then I’d laid down on her (laying down on the blanket), and it was in this arrangement that we were enjoying the sunshine.

Perks of a girlfriend who can control the sun? Probably not. Probably just a nicely sunny day anyway, though it is hard for me now not to kind of conflate her and sunshine in my head. Both warm me. Hah! What a dumb thing to say.

Also, thinking of it, is she my girlfriend? I mean, technically speaking yes, that would fit, it just didn’t feel right. It felt like the sort of word I’d use back when my voice was still breaking, you know? It fit, it just didn’t fit. What would fit? Significant other? Partner? Hmm. None of them felt right!

This vexed me!

It vexed me so much, in fact, that I could no longer lay still. This combined with the realisation that I hadn’t actually kissed my girlfriend (partner, significant other, et al) in a good few minutes, and that this wouldn’t do at all, had me wriggling over and crawling up.

Celestia seemed to have half-dozed off, because she only noticed my doing this once I’d basically already done it, one (very pretty) eye blearily opening up and blinking and peering at me.

“John? Is som-”

Smooching cut her off. Hah!

Smooching then went on for a bit longer than I had initially anticipated, as it turned out to be something that she was reluctant to see stop and was eager to participate in. Very eager. So there was that.

Had to stop eventually though, if only because we needed to breathe…

“What was that for?” She asked. Somehow in the midst of all of it she’d wound up on top of me, so I was now looking up at her, framed by the sun. Appropriate, that, eh? I shrugged as best I could while pinned.

“It’s a fun thing to do,” I said.

“I can’t deny that,” she said, schooching about and settling down so she was now the one lying on top of me, head resting on my chest or kind of on my belly or really just across both. I put one arm under my head and let my other hand go to just behind her ears. A reflex, at this point. I could hear her humming happily. All was well.

A single cloud trundled along somewhere near the horizon. I remembered the thought that had vexed me.

“Are you my girlfriend?” I asked, bluntly. Best to just get it out there.

She stopped humming and raised her head to look at me.

“Have you lost your memory again?” She asked.

Thinks she’s funny.

“No, hurr, very good. I mean, what are we? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Partners?”

It looked like she was going to say something to this straight out but then paused, thought about it a little.

“...isn’t this something we’ve talked about before?” She asked.

“You know, I don’t think so,” I said. I genuinely couldn’t remember. If I could, I wouldn’t have brought it up. If we had, I’d hoped one of us might have remembered. There was a lack of remembering here is what I’m driving at.

She thought about it a little longer and rolled onto her front, still lying on me, chin on my chest now, horn right over my face and making me go a bit cross-eyed until I stopped trying to focus on it.

“What was that one you said? Girlfriend? I’m more used to marefriend, when I hear it. I rather like your way, though,” she said.

“Well, it’s an option, I just, ah…” I couldn’t finish this, as I wasn’t sure how.

“What?”

“It just doesn’t feel very, I don’t know - mature, I guess?” I said, feebly.

Not the best word, ‘mature’, but the only one I could find in my head that worked at that moment.

“I’ve had a lot of time to be mature,” Celestia said. I blinked.

“Suppose that’s true. Didn’t think about it that way…”

She is, after all, an older lady (a cradlesnatcher!), and I her young, svelte, nubile, innocent, smooth-skinned boytoy. Or, er, well, maybe not quite that but something similar, maybe? Or not at all?

Was I ever svelte?

And now I’m staring at her, I realise, and she’s just smiling at me. Pretty smile. Pretty lady!

But I’m kind of stuck on the, ah, implications of what she said there.And now I’m thinking about the future. Not the immediate future, the far-ish future. A hundred years, say. Some point from now when I’m dead and Celestia, you know, isn’t. When I’m not around anymore and she still is. She’ll be sad about that, right?

What am I saying, of course she will. So that’s a mental image. Her, alone, sad. Or without me at least - she’ll still have Luna and whoever else, just no me. And she’ll be sad about that. For a bit.

How long of a bit?

There’s no good answer to this, is there. Either she breezes over it in no time (which, honestly, even as a thought experiment I can’t really picture her doing, but who’s to say) or else she has it hang over her like a pall for however long an immortal horse can have a pall hang over them. A while, presumably. Neither option appeals to me, even if I would be dead. They make me sad to imagine now.

Suppose there is kind of a middle ground where she’s sad but comes to terms with it in a healthy way, remembering me fondly but moving on in life as life continues to move on and all that. Everyone’s different but that’s usually a pretty good area for these things, in my experience.

But, you know, we’re dealing with timescales here that aren’t usually an issue.

Hypothetically, had I got married back home - to a human, if you can imagine such a thing - and either I died or they died then the survivor would be trundling along alone for, what? Depends, really, but probably a decade or so, or more, but whichever way it’d be an amount of years you could wrap your head around. Celestia won’t have that.

Once I’m gone, she’ll just be keeping going. Keeping going throughout however long I managed to last for all over again, then again, then just on and on. My lifespan on top of my lifespan. How long we had together times infinity. Right? That’s how it works. I think.

And is she going to be keeping me in mind that whole time? Forefront, or tucked away at the back? Something she thinks about on the day-to-day, or that weird experience she had x-hundred years ago that just sometimes bubbles up if something halfway-reminds her of it?

How long is my face going to last in her head?

This is just going to make me miserable. That’s no good. Let’s stop thinking about this. Pointless anyway. However she reacts you will be dead, and there’s not much use in getting upset about it now. I think your best bet would be to make sure that whatever memories you do leave her with are good ones. Or at least amusing ones. Right?

Right.

“You’re really enjoying staring at me today,” she says, bringing me back to the moment with a pleasant bump. She does have a lovely voice. Lovely everything, really.

I shake my head to clear out the thought residue.

“Sorry, miles away. Uh, not to say I don’t enjoy staring at you, I do. But not, you know, in a weird way. It’s-”

She shut me up with more smooching. Probably the best move in the circumstances.

“You’re thinking too much,” she said once she’d finished. It’s like she knows me!

“It’s a problem I have.”

One of many.

“What is it about this time?” She asks.

“You.”

Not a lie!

“You can’t always be thinking about me,” she said, semi-serious.

Obviously I wasn’t going to actually explain what it was I’d been thinking about - where would I start? And, worse, where would it go? - so instead I propped myself up on one elbow and held forth thus:

“Oh, but I am and I do! My love, my muse, my life! Oh, after being in the presence of such radiance, how could my every thought bend, as though pulled by gravity, towards-mmph.”

Not smooching this time, she’d just shoved a wing in my face.

“Very good,” she said, rolling her eyes. Success! I pushed the wing aside.

“Yeah well. I like you. Deal with it,” I said.

For my troubles here I got a nuzzle and whisper in my ear:

“I like you too.”

Ah, shivers. Everytime. That voice!

Life is pretty good.

She’s basically sitting on me now, hooves either side of my head, face smiling down and fancy magic hair just doing that billowing thing it tends to do. I am fine with this arrangement. My hands come to rest on her hips because that seems a good place for them to come to rest. She seems fine with this arrangement.

“We should do something,” she said.

“I thought we were doing something.”

“No, we were deliberately not doing anything, then there was canoodling, then you started thinking too much, and now it’s not really nothing anymore but it’s also not something, not really. So we should do something.”

I think I followed that?

“Uh, sure?” I said, and I got a giggle out of her. It was lovely.

“I’m open to suggestions,” she said, and my mind went obligingly blank.

“Uh…”

Quick! Something! Anything! What’s close?

“We should…jump in the pool,” I said, working it through on a word-to-word basis. This just confused her though.

“Pool?”

“There’s, like, a pool. Just down there,” I said, nodding to the edge of the roof.

I’d seen the pool when we’d first got up here and I’d gone to have a peer at how high up we were. Turned out, fairly high, but not too high. It was a level below us. Not too far, but far enough that when I’d seen it I’d thought to myself ‘That’d be pretty fun to jump into, if I was a crazy person’, and for whatever reason this was what had come to mind just then.

Come to think of it, I’d always wanted to jump into a body of water from a height. That’s a very specific desire I’ll admit, but who doesn’t have those? And how often did I get the chance to indulge this one? It might never come again! I might never want to again! Seize the day! It’ll be an anecdote in years to come! Yeah!

Celestia glanced behind her.

“That’s an ornamental pool,” she said. Guess she knows the layout of the place like the back of her, uh, hoof, so knew what I was talking about. She looked concerned.

“Yeah but, still water, right? And I don’t think there’s anyone around so who’ll know?

My thought here being that her concern might have been witnesses. The more I lay there and watched her clearly engaged in some internal wrangling the less convinced I became that this actually was her concern.

“Not a good idea?” I asked. I knew it wasn’t a good idea - it was a silly idea - but she was usually fairly on-board with my non-good ideas. I still remember the time when I was stuck in that wheelchair and we tried to see how fast we could go. Ah, fun times.

“I…” she said, chewing her lip a little and then concluding: “Will go down. And watch you.”

Kind of a weird thing to say and kind of a weird way to say it, but whatever.

“Whatever floats your boat, lovely,” I said, and after a rather tepid smile from her (a mere four on the scale, if I had to rate it) she vanished in a flash of golden light. As she is sometimes wont to do.

“Gah! Teleporting!”

Without her sitting on me anymore I was able to stand and so I did that, stretching a bit before sauntering over to the edge of the room. There indeed was the pool, a perfectly safe distance below me and, by its edge, Celestia, looking up.

It is definitely a perfectly safe height. My memory hadn’t made it any safer. Looking at it now I could see the safety. Any reluctance I might have felt in my gut about approaching the edge was entirely down to a lifetime’s worth of societal condition as regarded being apprehensive about the edges of roofs. Rooves.

Whatever. Backing down now would be unthinkable anyway. A girl is watching!

Hah!

Whelp, hesitation never got anyone anywhere, I’m fairly certain, so just geronimo!

And there we go. Airbourne! Running wild and free, through the air. Falling with style, that’s me! Ooh, tumbling. Not sure I intended to tumble but I am. Wind whistling, guts lurching. This is fun. Thrilling, you might say.

What is the best way to land in water from this height, anyway? Should probably have decided that before jumping. Wrong angle for diving now, I think. Can’t really get into the right position. Hmm, I’m very horizontal. I think this might hurt a bit. Only a bit though. Best brace, water’s coming up. Close eyes…

And…

…nothing?

Open eyes. Not falling anymore. Water just underneath me. Hmm. That’s unorthodox.

And what’s that tinkling sound?

“Hey, what-”

Then the splash. Face-first into the water.

There follows some splashing and spluttering, and when I break the surface and wipe the water from my eyes and blink I find Celestia there, grinning at me. At least it’s a proper grin.

“Masterful,” she says as I paddle over. This pool is deeper than it looked! Colder, too!

Why had I wanted to do this, again? This is another of those things in life that are much more fun to imagine than to actually do. Well, now I know for certain, at least. Was only speculating before.

“Did you catch me?” I asked, one arm on the lip, squinting up at her.

“I didn’t think you were going to stick the landing,” she said.

“Harrumph.”

My belly-flopping abilities being slandered, maligned!

And so in defiance did I splash a bit of water on her hoof. She looked down.

“What was that?” She asked, flicking some of the water back off again.

“Me. Being defiant by splashing water onto you. Take that,” I said, splashing some more.

“My hoof?” She asked, holding up said hoof. The hoof dripped. A little bit.

“Well, I didn’t want to go too overboard-” I said, just before a minor tidal wave of magically shunted water smacked into me from the side. Oh. I see how it is.

“That’s not fair. You’re not even in the water!” I protested, blinking water from my eyes. She, looming, tapped her chin.

“You know, it did feel a little bit unfair,” she says before sharply dropping her front and raising her rear in what I immediately recognise is her signature pre-pounce posture. She even did the wiggle!

“Ah, crap,” I said, paddling away in what I knew was a futile effort. I heard her leap, saw her shadow pass over me, and saw her splash down right in the path of my paddling. I then got a faceful of water. Again.

She’s so mean to me!

And I’m there spluttering and wiping my eyes and a second later she breaks the surface, sopping and smiling. I am not going to question how magical flappy hair can get wet. It can. Stills flaps, just more wetly. It’s an odd look. It’s like there’s a salmon under there.

“You’re all wet, dear,” I said. Hurr. Funny.

“You do have that effect on me, sometimes.”

“...wow.”

Didn’t miss a beat! She’s filthy! Since when was she filthy? It get hot in here? That my imagination? That the sunshine?

I’m distracted from this, uh, distracting line of thought by her daintily splashing me with her hoof. In contrast to the magic wave and the leaping it’s, shall we say, pretty low key.

“This does feel more fair,” she said.

“I feel like you’re mocking me.”

“That’s because I am. Lovingly.”

So mean.

There’s a bit of back-and-forth splashing, but not a lot because she’s already done the jumping in and the joke is starting to wear a little at this point, so it fairly quickly just becomes a watery snuggle. Which I am fine with.

“We could have been dry and snuggling, you know,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

And not long after that we climbed out. Further benefits of magical horse girlfriend: can magically dry herself and you after entering bodies of water. Neat! Hadn’t even considered that. It was like turning a hairdryer up under my shirt but all over! Would recommend.

“That was a very silly thing to do,” she said, landing after quickly nipping back up again to grab the blanket (wouldn’t do to leave it for someone else). In this I was fairly certain she was referring more to my leap of faith than our little splash battle. Just a guess. It’s what I’d be referring to!

“Very us then, wouldn’t you say?” I said, and it looked like she was going to disagree. Only for a second though.

“...maybe a little bit.”

Gave her a peck on the cheek. She smiles. Life continues to be good.

“Though now of course we are again at a loose end! Just one thing after another. Unless there’s anything official that needs doing?” I asked.

She’d told me she wasn’t on the clock today but I wasn’t entirely sure I believed her. There had to be something, surely? But she just shook her head, all innocence.

“Not that I’m aware of,” she said.

“Hmm. Well, if you say so,” I said, then I snapped my fingers. A thought occurred! “I actually have an idea!”

“Oh?” She asked, an eyebrow raising.

“Yes! Let’s go!” I said, one finger raised in triumph, the other pointing forward (triumphantly) as I took a step forward, to demonstrate boldness of action. I then paused.

“Uh, wait…”

I could not see an immediate or obvious exit from where we were. I looked around. Nope, no doors. This was just some sort of…ornamental pool…area…?

What the hell was the point? Who designed this place? Madness.

“Need some help down?”

“Um, yes please. Then we go!”

A giggle. Then a flash.

There's time enough for action

Author's Note

More meandering, repetitive guff. The point of the story is to be big and not to go anywhere.

Also, I still can't get Celestia's internal voice right, I'm entirely aware, and that's because I have precisely one character voice and that is my voice, just shoved into the mouths of others.

Authorial growth is something that happens to other people.

There's time enough for action

He had, for some reason, taken me to a bowling alley. As in, ten pin bowling.

I’ll admit it was certainly a surprise. Certainly nothing I ever would have considered.

He was very excited about it though. It was rather cute. It was very cute. Kept scampering ahead and beckoning for me to hurry up. I may have kept it slow just to see him do it. May have.

“Imagine my surprise to see a place like this around here! I swear, this world provides me with just about anything I could desire. Benefits of being the hub of the universe, don’t you know,” he said.

“Hmm,” I went. Not sure what he was talking about here, but best to humour him. I’m sure it made perfect sense to him.

The place was a little tucked away, which might explain why I wasn’t familiar with it. A little on the rundown side but cheerful all the same. We entered - John holding the door for him, also cute - and once we’d entered he immediately spread his arms and took in a deep breath. I wouldn’t have done that, myself, but he seemed to be taking a level of enjoyment in the process I probably wasn’t fully able to appreciate.

“Ah! Takes me back! Makes me think of birthday parties and day trips and, uh, at least one kind of lacklustre date I went on one time,” he said, arms dropping and a frown creasing his face.

That last part does catch my attention.

“Date? Oh?” I ask, coming in to stand beside him. He glances sideways at me then glances around then quickly nips in to peck me on the cheek. Have to giggle at that.

“Nothing interesting, I can assure you. Kind of the problem, really. I certainly knew how to show a girl an, ah, dull time, let me tell you. And still do, apparently.”

“Shh. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Ah, hmm, less said the better. Come on! We’re wasting precious bowling time.”

And off he trots. I follow. Happily, my appearance does not seem to be causing any particular level of surprise of consternation, beyond a bow or two which I receive as politely as possible. I think this is more to do with how sparsely populated the establishment is, but still. You never can tell how it will go, these things.

I had not bowled nor been in a position where I could have bowled in some considerable time. In fact, I can barely remember the last occasion I might have done it. I have a feeling the event may not have made that much of an impression on me.

“Look at the carpet! Even universes away it looks exactly like how it’s meant to! Now that’s destiny, that is,” John says, hands on his hips, staring straight downward.

“What are you talking about, dear?” I ask, breezily.

“Destiny, obviously, and, uh…”

He’s still staring at the carpet but then he gets a faraway look. It doesn’t last long, but I do see it. He gets those sometimes. I do wish he’d tell me why. In a way I could understand, so I could understand, and maybe help him. If he needed help. Or, if nothing else, just understand him that little bit better.

John blinks.

“And, uh, carpet. Yeah. I’ll go sort us out a lane, you just stand there and look radiant and beautiful and lovely. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

I’m grinning and I can’t help myself.

“Flatterer…”

It’s not the most artful or thoughtful or romantic, what he said, at least not if you’d just read about it. There is something in his delivery though, in the look in his eye and the way he looks at me when he says it. Never fails to make me feel very, well, in the moment, I should say. Very present.

And maybe raise a little warmth in my cheeks. I dimly recall it being said it doesn’t do for princesses to blush, though I can’t fathom who’d make such a stuffy rule. Hmm.

Possibly imagining it. The sort of thing someone might have said to me at one point or another. Hmm.

John returns.

“That was easier than I expected. Lane three, lovely, that one there,” he said, pointing, and so over we go.

The lane is a lane. There isn’t much else to note about it. John immediately settles himself down with the scorecards and is flourishing a tiny nub of a pencil. He is, for some reason, dabbing the tip on his tongue. I’m not sure why.

“Allow me to demonstrate my talent with the local language! I shall flawlessly put our names onto the scorecards,” he says.

“Ooh,” I say.

I had wondered how that was progressing for him. Twilight had heaped praise on how well he was doing when I’d asked, but I suspect that may have had more to do with her soft spot for him than any actual spectacular success on his part. Not to do my beloved down, of course, I just like to think I have a more realistic and grounded level of expectation.

Which is infinitely higher than his own opinion of himself, sadly.

After a moment or two of furious scribbling he finishes and sits up straight.

“There you go,” he said, sliding the card across the little table towards me and revealing his handiwork.

He’d written ‘Bottoms’. In comprehensible and reasonably legible Mareain, admittedly, but still. He had written bottoms. When I look up at him again he’s grinning and watching intently for my reaction. I keep it muted. I am not giving him the satisfaction, at least not yet.

“...I have Twilight to thank for this?” I ask, and he nods vigorously.

“Yes, entirely and solely. It’s all her. She’s a bad influence. I was pure and innocent before-”

“I’ll be sure to tell her off the next time I see her, darling. For now though do it nicely and let’s start, shall we? Go on. I’m watching very closely,” I say, stepping in behind him and leaning down to rest my chin on his shoulder, the better to watch what he did next.

“No sense fun at all, some people…”

I bring my mouth to his ear and make sure to whisper:

“I’m having lots of fun.”

It gets a shiver. I do enjoy doing that. Works almost every time, rarely gets old.

I then proceed to watch him write out bottoms again, only this time in much more careful, flowing, overly-elegant script. He knows I’m watching him do this but he does it anyway. When he’s done he pulls the pencil away.

“There,” he says.

“I did say to do it nicely, didn’t I?”

“Exactly.”

“And so that’s your card, then. I think I’ll do my own,” I say, drawing the blank one over and relieving him of the pencil.

“Bums are still funny. Height of wit.”

I had the strong impression that this was a habit of John’s, and that this was not a one-off event. In his defence he wasn’t wrong - bottoms were quite funny. Certainly, his was.

Tee hee.

I filled in my scorecard and set it down beside his. He squinted at mine.

“Is that how you normally write your name?” He asked.

“Yes,” I said with a straight face.

“Are you sure? It looks different.”

“Quite sure.”

“That’s not a rude word, is it?”

John is a bad influence on me. I keep my straight face. All those years of being regal and aloof have to be good for something.

“Of course not. Now, which of us is going first?” I ask.

“Oh, after you, lovely,” he says, gesturing to the balls.

I select one - the closest, as it seems the simplest selection - sight down the lane, visualise, shimmy (largely for John’s benefit, if I’m being honest) and then send the ball downlane. There’s a very satisfying clatter and not a single pin is left standing.

Smiling, holding my head high, I saunter back to mark my score. John is grimacing.

“Well that’s a bad omen,” he says.

“For you perhaps, dear.”

“Har har. Alright, well, here we go,” he says, slapping his thighs and standing up and stretching. “Just to warn you, I’m staggeringly, hilariously bad at this. Just so you’re warned.”

He says this while wagging a finger at me and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“I’ll consider myself warned. Or maybe you’re attempting to - what is it? - hustle me?”

“I’d never do that in public! I have a little decency,” he says, faux-horrified, moving to the balls. I poke him in the rear with my horn and he yelps.

“Now who isn’t fun?”

Keeping an eye for any other pokes he picks up a ball and turns it over. He seems to be feeling for something and when he can’t find it he turns it over some more. He finally looks at the ball he’s chosen. He then frowns.

“...these don’t have finger holes,” he says.

“Why would they?” I ask.

I can see the wheels in his head turning and can hear them clicking when I very deliberately put both hooves on the table holding the scorecards.

“...that is a very good point. I may be even worse at this than I initially thought.”

He wasn’t that bad, of course. He wasn’t good, but he wasn’t as bad as he said he was. I hadn’t expected him to be. That had just been him doing what he always did, selling himself short, doing himself down. I wish he wouldn’t do that.

A few frames in and I am trouncing him, obviously, though I would have to imagine that lacking those holes-for-fingers he was looking for can’t have helped.

As he returns from another split that he failed to finish up on I ask him:

“What are you thinking about?”

I know this question comes up a lot and I know it very rarely gets results, but I live in hope.

He gives me A Look. Or rather, gives me the look he sometimes gives me whenever I ask him too many times what it is he’s thinking about. In my defence, if he answered the question I might stop asking it.

“Wasn’t the whole point of running off for something to do so that thinking would stop?” He asks me.

“One of the points, maybe. And did it work?”

“Uh…”

I see his shoulders slump and he sags onto the bench seating, scratching his head. I move to sit beside him. The pins can wait for now. The place is hardly heaving as it is.

“So what are you thinking about?”

“...uh…”

He looks around.

“...bowling alleys?”

“Is that right?”

“Well, maybe.”

Hard not to roll my eyes again. I wiggle in closer so there’s no gap between us.

“You know, a more suspicious girlfriend might start to think you were hiding something from her.”

He flinches, which I wasn’t entirely expecting and didn’t entirely enjoy.

“Okay, maybe it’s not just bowling alleys, but it is, ah, related. Sort of. Tangentially. Laterally. It’s, uh…”

He trails off for a second, frowns, squints, and then picks up again:

“This might sound like a, uh, stupid question but do, you know, immortal horses have, uh, parents?”

I give this question a second to sink down properly, like something valuable flung into a fishtank and watched just settling onto the little pebbles at the bottom, there to be gawped at by fish who had no idea what it is they’ve become party to.

…I think John is starting to affect my internal imagery. He really is a bad influence!

“Yes, John,” I say, as flatly as I can manage.

“See, told you it’d sound stupid. Guess it makes sense, now I hear you say it. But, uh, well, thought I’d check first. For, uh, context reasons, I guess. Or something. It’s just - “

He looks around some more. At the carpet again. Am I missing something obvious about the carpet? Or is this a human thing?

“Bowling was something that tended to happen when I was, you know, a younger man, so it makes me a bit nostalgic, makes me think about earlier, simpler times and all that. And all of my earlier, simpler times were, well, you know…” He said, and he didn’t need to finish for me to know what it was he meant.

‘Not here’.

I consider this.

“Do you miss your home?” I ask.

“Pretty sure you’ve asked me that before, lovely, or some version of that. Answer’s the same though: no. Very much no. Not at all. Nostalgic for times gone, maybe sometimes, but those were gone even when I was home, so no, not missing home, no.”

I consider this, too. I put some things together in my head.

“Do you miss anyone you may have left behind at home?”

He seems to consider this.

“...not as such.”

“Not as such?”

He swallows.

“There isn’t - wasn’t - wasn’t really anyone I left behind. Really. So it’s - it’s not really a problem, really. There’s no-one…waiting…for me.”

There were some very deliberate word choices in this sentence.

I think I may be pushing too far. If I keep going, I don’t think I’ll get anything good. No deeper understanding. I think it’ll cause more harm. There’s something here, but it’s not going to be coming out in the middle of a bowling alley. But that’s fine. There’s something.

I put my wing around him. I know he likes that.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, John, anything at all, with anything at all, you know you can always ask me, don’t you?”

I wasn’t sure what I could really help him with if he was missing anything or anyone from home, but I just wanted him to know that I was there for him, was always there for him, would always be there for him. I wanted him to know that, and I wanted him to actually, well, avail himself. Not turn inwards when he didn’t have to. Not when there was plainly something gnawing at him.

Maybe there was always something gnawing at him. How would I know?

“Of course, of course.”

He doesn’t seem to be concentrating. I pull the wing in a bit tighter.

“John? I mean it. You know that?”

He looks at my wingtips, then at me.

“Anything, huh?”

“Anything it would be in my power to do.”

“That’s - that’d be a lot, wouldn’t it?”

“It would, yes.”

Not much sense in denying it.

“Just drop everything to help me out?”

“Well, not drop everything, no, I do have responsibilities, but if there was something that was important to you then it would be important to me as well, and so would get all the time and attention it would deserve.”

I’d have to imagine it would be important to more than just me, but that was by-the-by.

I see John swallow.

“And that’d - that’d be for me, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You’re, ah - you’re very nice to me, you, ah, heh.”

“I love you,” I say, by way of explanation. To me it says all it needs to.

“I love you too. A lot, actually, heh. An awful lot. More than I would have, uh, well, heh. Wish I could - mean, seems kind of a shame I can’t ever, ah, give back even an eighth of what you’ve given me. Just a big hole that everything falls in-”

“No, John, no. Don’t say that, that’s not true. And it doesn’t work like that, anyway. And even if it did, you’ve already given me more than enough, whether you think so or not. And every day you give me even more. I don’t know what to do with it all, frankly, you give me so much.”

I’d say something like ‘If anyone’s the big hole here it’s me’ and I know that John would appreciate that for the dirty joke it was, but now sadly wasn’t the time. Now was the time for being serious.

Maybe later.

John is staring at me.

“...I think I’ve lost track of what we’re talking about.”

“I think I have, too.”

He’s staring at me again. I really, really do wish I knew what went through his head sometimes. I feel like I’m one third of a conversation that is taking place behind a brick wall, and times like this I really, really don’t like it that much.

“...love you,” he says, putting a lot of effort into smiling.

“Love you too.”

Then he kisses me on the nose and another, bigger smile comes down and hides whichever one he had before.

“Let’s bowl. I believe you were annihilating me?”

But that time isn't now

It was me and Twilight.

She wasn’t actually, technically, up in town to see me specifically, yet somehow she and I had still managed to spend a significant chunk of the day together anyway. She’d come across me (hurr, dirty jokes) while I’d been in the midst of more agonising, slow, largely fruitless magical research and I’d managed to hide the more harder-to-explain books in time to leave the basic ones, making it look like I was still just trying to learn the lingo all innocent-like.

Cunning me. Great work lying to lovely people. You’re a top man. Prick.

The bowling alley all over again. Real close to just collapsing the effort and giving up and laying it all out for Celly. Mean, why not? It’s the sensible thing to do - she was right there, saying how she’d help with anything, fully and lovingly. And that’d be good! But it’d be too good! So you just battened down the hatches even more! Idiot, Christ, you just-

Anyway. That’s what my day had been, mostly. First the missus in the morning, a brief window of alone-ness after giving the missus a kiss and sending her on her way to work, then the appearance of Twilight.

Can’t say I don’t have a nice time of things.

Twilight is a lovely girl, as always, and her help is actually, well, helping. The low-grade, beginner-level magical theory books I kept out are probably a higher level than would be suitable for, ah, reading comprehension, but they’re not actually that bad, and with her help and guidance I make a pretty good show of knowing what it is is written down in front of me.

Certainly she seems impressed with me, which I have to admit feels pretty nice. The look on her little face! She’s so chuffed! And it’s so sincere! I could just devour her. Nibble that face right off her skull. Adorable.

But still, I remain a dense chunk of gristle, and a morning of banging my head against learning doesn’t leave me feeling particularly free and easy. It leaves me, in fact, feeling wound up and tense and worn down. Not helped by, you know, knowing I’m keeping secrets, but that’s a whole other thing, whatever.

I need a break, is the point.

“Think I’m going to take a break, take a walk, I think,” I say, stretching, leaning back.

“I could come with you, if you like?” Twilight asked, hopping up all brimming eagerness.

I’m in the middle of a yawn as she says this and I have to finish before replying, as is only polite.

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re up here for a reason I know and I know you’re taking the time to help me - which I do appreciate, you know, you’re a lovely girl like that - but you should be doing the important stuff. I’ll still be around. So I’ll just, uh, go for a walk, get some air. Thanks for offering, though.”

No idea what it was she was in town to actually do. Something in an official capacity, I knew, but the details hadn’t come my way. I assumed - and this was me going out on a limb here - that it might have involved friendship in some capacity. Maybe also magic. Maybe both at once. Just a guess. Could have been wrong.

Her ears droop a little on having her offer rebuffed.

“Oh, okay,” she says.

Oof. Damage control.

“Hey. If you want to just hang out some time soon you just tell me, alright? That’s something we can do, if it’s something you want. Been a while, it feels like,” I say. Ears prick right back up again.

Un-oof. Damage controlled.

“We can?” She asks. I give her a little ruffle. I can’t help myself! It’s the ears and the way they prick. And knowing that if I ruffle it’ll probably make her turn that delightful shade of red - and it does! Like clockwork.

“Sure, why wouldn’t we? We’re buddies and I’m a man of leisure - I can do what I like!”

“Okay!” She says, beaming.

“I’m also, like, you know, in pretty close with a pretty powerful lady you might have heard of, so I can also do what I like whenever I like. My girlfriend is kind of a big deal, is what I’m saying, so I live a gilded life of ease. Not what you know and all that, eh?” I say, winking at her. We have a laugh, we do.

Or, uh, we try to, at least. Her reaction is a bit difficult to gauge here. I’m not sure what it is, actually. She’s still smiling, but there’s a sense of effort that wasn’t there before.

“O-okay.”

“Laid it on a bit thick there?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s fine, just - it’s fine.”

“Always go too far on the jokes, that’s my problem. Well, one of my many, many problems.”

“John-”

I hold up a hand to forestall what I know will be another self-affirming mini-lecture.

“I know, I know, self-deprecation bad, sorry. Let’s leave all that, leave that behind. You and me, sometime soon, eh? Have a, uh, picnic or something, I don’t know. We’ll figure that part out. Just something light and breezy. No reading anything. Something nice and easy. Sound good?” I ask. The honesty of Twilight’s smile reasserts itself, which is a pleasure to see. She nods.

“Yeah. Yeah that sounds good,” she says. I clap and make her jump - heh, cute. Hadn’t meant to do that but cute anyway. In a mean sort of a way. Meanie, me.

“Wonderful! Great. Sounds good to me, too. For now though, uh, I’m stretching my legs and getting some fresh air and you are doing…something princessy, probably. Saving the world again, no doubt. Done that much, recently, just to ask?”

Without basis I typically assume that Twilight and her cohort are saving the world at least once a week. The light tinge of pink that again spreads across her (adorable) little face at my question does nothing to disabuse me of this assumption - clearly I’m onto something!

“Not that much…” She says.

“Well, keep it up, much or not. I like this world. S’got you in it!”

That pink tinge gets a lot pinker, which is immensely gratifying. We hug, she goes off, and I go off as well, departing the little library I’d ensconced myself in. Honestly, Canterlot is lousy with places like that, as I’ve discovered.

Belatedly, after some minutes of walking, I realise I took one of the books with me, one of the books I’d been struggling through and which then Twilight had started helping me with. I must have been clutching it without thinking, tsch. Wanted to take a break, took the thing I was taking a break from with me. Now that’s smart. I’ll return the book later and apologise. The magic book.

Magic books. Magic books. Magic books all about magic. Magic magic magic.

You know, this really isn’t a problem. This really doesn’t have to be a problem. You’re making it a problem. You remember what the missus said, she’d help you out, easy as anything. Twilight, too, as you well know. Mean, she’s helping you already with something. Everyone would pitch in, every one of them! They’d all pull together for you, something like this. Either sort it out or find out it’s un-sort-out-able, but they’d do it for you, simple as.

And I know that’s the problem for you, but that’s the thing, it doesn’t have to be, man. Getting too much help isn’t really a thing. Help expands to fill whatever space provided. Reliance may not be the best, sure, but there’s reliance and then there’s throwing yourself at something you’re woefully underequipped to tackle and grinding yourself to paste when the door - as it were - is right there.

But of course, even knowing all this, my mind does not change. Again. Never.

Well, not never. It’ll change later, much later. It’ll change once it comes to a dreary, downbeat halt and the truth has come out and I’ve disappointed everyone and when it’s not too late but late enough that it’s not good. Then it’ll change. Not now, never now.

Question: Had Umbra not inexplicably seen to it I’d got my memories - and, therefore, myself - returned, would I still be acting in this way? Would my behaviour be different, significantly?

Answer: No way to know but, in all likelihood, probably not. Moot anyway. If that hadn’t happened, this particular problem wouldn’t be a problem, so nyeh.

What I could really go for, I realised, was a bacon roll and a cup of tea. The first of these was pretty long odds, given my circumstances, but the second was eminently possible. Tea wasn’t difficult to get in these parts.

So that’s what I went off in search of.

And since tea wasn’t (and isn’t) difficult to get ahold of it doesn’t take me long to get ahold of some. I get it to go because I don’t really want to sit surrounded by anyone because the sound of other people talking is starting to suffocate me the way it sometimes seems to.

Honestly, do wonder what is wrong with me sometimes. I have a to-do list I could comfortably fit onto the back of a postage stamp (with room to spare) and I still feel like the walls are closing in on me. I’d fold like a card table if I actually had any real responsibility or anyone really relying on me. How did I even get this far in life?

Oh yes. On the backs of others. Oops.

I take my tea and I go and try and find somewhere around Canterlot quiet and de-populated. My reasonably extensive (and ever-growing) experience of the town has given me an alright feeling for its ways and byways, and I’m actually passable at knowing a few spots where a man can sit and drink tea unmolested and unbothered.

So I find one of those spots, and I sit, and I blow on my tea. My tea steams. The world turns. Etcetera.

And I think. I can’t really help it. It’s a curse.

Hypothetically, if I got this interdimensional magical nonsense sussed out to the extent I could actually do the whole sending-the-letter thing, what exactly is the letter meant to say?

I had not considered this prior to this point. It had seemed premature, for one thing, and for another the problem just hadn’t really crossed my mind. Now it had though I couldn’t avoid the question. What was it meant to say? What could it say?

The idea was, of course, to reassure father that I was safe and well and that he shouldn’t worry. So how were you meant to do that? And how were you meant to say “I’m totally fine, but you won’t ever see me again, and don’t come looking for me” without immediately getting someone to come looking for you? Somehow I doubted explaining the specifics of the situation - magical horse-land, dimensions, magic, horses, pretty horse lady, magic, horses horses - would do the job. If anything, I kind of felt that would only serve to make things worse.

So what, then?

Could always claim he’d wronged me somehow and that I was cutting ties and that was the reason I’d never see him again, but that idea turned my stomach. He and I may not have had the closest, most loving relationship a father and son could have, but we still like one another in a fairly solid, unyielding sort of a way. I couldn’t do that to him. So no, not that either.

So what? What arcane combination of words will flawlessly achieve what I want to achieve here? Without tipping it too far one way or the other? Does such a combination even exist?

Fuck.

And I can’t give up now! I know about the problem! As has been said before, if you choose not to decide you still have made a choice! And not a good one, either, here!

Honestly, the things we do for those we care about. The knots we tie ourselves in and the weirdo thought experiments we run trying to figure out what the best thing to do is, only to find out it was something we probably never even imagined but you had to try anyway because not trying would have been worse, and you actually care about the results.

How much simpler would life be - would my life be, and have been - if we didn’t have to bother with any of that? If we just sank into our loneliness, kept our eyes down, drifted away? Away from all those confounding, confusing people we only ever seem to worry and disappoint and annoy? Just drift out to sea, blissfully, quietly alone?

Well, yeah, simpler, sure, but not exactly better. It’s like saying if you have an empty glass you won’t have to worry about spilling your drink. Yeah, you won’t, but you’ve also got no fucking drink, so what’s the point?

Risk and reward, fucker, and life in general.

It was just an idle thought anyway. I’m not severing myself from anything. Hell! I’ve been severed from something - my beleaguered, distant, father - and I am now taking active steps on fixing this connection! I don’t even have to! I think being magically vaulted into another universe would satisfy most people as an adequate excuse for communication having broken down, but I’m apparently not most people!

Just one letter. I’ll figure out the exact words later. Just one letter, get it sorted, get it done. Then that’s that, one less thing to worry about and nibble at you. Can get on with your life.

…you know, once you get it working. However long that’ll take. Years.

Christ, he’ll be dead by then.

And he can go to the grave knowing I mysteriously disappeared out of the blue one day and he never found out where or why or having been able to do anything about it. Just, you know, his son vanished with no explanation, never to be seen or heard of again. Without a trace, not a thing to be done. That’s a thing to carry into your later years, isn’t it? Something to keep an old man warm at night, hmm?

…shit.

Thankfully, mercifully, my train of thought was finally interrupted here by the arrival of a stranger. Never have I been so gladdened by the sudden arrival of someone random I didn’t know. They - a pony, obviously, some guy pony I did not recognise - came trotting into the little cubbyhole garden I’d dug myself into, and parked himself on a spot just over from me.

And looked at me.

And smiled at me. I mean really smiled at me.

That’s new.

“You alright there?” I ask, but they just keep smiling at me.

I’m really not a fan of that at the best of times. I know ponies are a friendly lot and they do tend to smile a lot more than humans used to - and that never made me comfortable, back home, people smiling at me for no reason; always made me think they were up to something - but this is something else. This is an unbroken, knowing smile and we’re not just passing in the street and saying good morning. They’re staring at me.

And that smile is kind of familiar, too. Can’t put my finger on it, but it’s making my brain itch.

“Hello, John,” he says.

And it isn’t so much the unmistakable intonation that tips me off - though there is that. It’s mainly the blink-and-I-would-have-missed it flash of red in the guy’s eyes as he head tilts and they catch the light. Red eyes. I know that red.

I know someone with red eyes.

Punk rock loser

Crap. This isn’t good. Is it?

If what is happening is what you think is happening then no, it isn’t good. It is in fact bad.

How do you block your mind getting read again? Ah yes, confidence, wasn’t it? Just believe super-hard that your mind is an unreadable fortress and it shall be so. That’s stupid, sure, but that’s magic, and you’ve learn about magic and that sounds about right! So! Think bricks, think mortar, think unassailable.

Don’t think about that kind of creepy smile. Bleurgh.

“Done something new with your hair?” I ask, playing it cool. Part of the confidence, see.

The smile becomes a smirk. Still bleurgh.

“How very nice of you to notice,” he - they? She? It’s obviously Umbra so let’s go with she, it’s she. She says. That’s what she said, giving the mane a little flick.

“Hah. Another of your interesting little illusion things? Or what?”

Really, it could have been anything. I’m willing to accept anything at this point.

“I am waring this particular servant. It is quite simple,” she said, smirk gone now, down to business.

Also: waring?

“What? Like Ravenor?”

“Who?” She asked, brow furrowed, but then something clicked. “Ah. Yes. One of your references. I remember. Yes, like Ravenor. If you like.”

It was oddly uncomfortable having someone here actually get what I was talking about. Wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Probably didn’t help that I knew she only got it from the benefit of having dug around inside my head. Brr.

“Is that - that’s kind of unpleasant, actually, I can’t lie. Was he cool with that? He volunteer?”

“Of course he volunteered. They all did.”

“I bet they all did.”

Felt it rather removed from the spirit of volunteering if the thought of refusing has been scrubbed from the minds of those you’re asking, but maybe that’s just me. I remember how widely her help smiled. They struck me as being so thoroughly, ah, enthusiastic that they’d probably have volunteered to take a long walk off a short pier.

And as heavily implied already I had an inkling most of that enthusiasm had been put there by Umbra. I could have asked her, but she’d either have lied or told the truth with such bluntness and lack of comprehension that I’d regret it.

The pony disappears in a red-edged black puff and pops up next to me on my bench with a similar puff, which makes me jump. Teleporting! Not just for Celestia anymore, apparently. I could run for it, but something tells me I wouldn’t get very far. I’d need to pick the right moment for that, if I needed to. Keep playing it cool. So cool. King of the cucumbers, that’s me.

“What is it you are doing?” Umbra asks, looking me over. I look down at myself, my teacup, all that. I’m not sure what she wants me from.

“Sewing,” I say.

That got me a sharp look. Kind of diminished since it was coming from her via someone else, but it was still a sharper look than most could manage. The lack of the terrifying red eyes and pointy teeth did kind of undercut it, though, kind of robbed it of a certain something the in-person Umbra had.

Not that I’m complaining.

“As far as your jokes go, that is even worse than I had come to expect. What are you doing, John?” She asks again, a touch more stiffly. Think I only had room for one joke on that one and I’ve burned through it. Sigh.

“Why should I tell you?” I ask.

“Because I asked you. Nicely,” she says.

She knows my weaknesses. I give my teacup a waggle. It sloshes.

“Drinking tea.”

“Hmm. And the book?” She asks, nodding over towards my other side. I look. Right, I still had the book.

“Light reading.”

“May I see?”

Kind of weird her asking. So weird it put me off-guard and had me holding it out to her. The book gets taken into one of those glowy little levitation fields and she flips through it a bit silently before handing it back. I put it back the other side of me again.

Some further silence. I can feel her watching me.

“It won’t work,” she said, eventually. Sigh. One of these conversations.

“That so.”

Not even going to bother phrasing that as a question.

“No. You lack the aptitude and the temperament. You also lack the bare capability beyond the merest flickering, but mostly it is your temperament that is what will prevent you from succeeding.”

Feel like I’m having one of those parent-teacher evenings again. Certainly, that’s the closest thing that comes to mind from hearing that. I think my teachers were a little less polite about my potential, though. Which is saying something. And Umbra at least can remember my name, so she’s also got that going for her.

“That’s good to know,” I say.

“I am being quite serious. I have been inside you, if you remember.”

Ew.

“Really wish you wouldn’t say it like that…” I said, wrinkling my nose.

“I chose my words quite deliberately.”

“I know you did!”

“Thought you would have appreciated the joke.”

Huh. Got my number.

“...maybe a little. But still!”

“Why are you doing this anyway, John?” Umbra asks, switching back, nodding towards the book. I shrug.

“Just passing the time.”

“That is not true. You have something in mind. I can see where you were reading. Teleportation and travel magic. Introductory dimensional theory. Do you wish to return home, John?”

“No, no, Christ no, not at all.”

“Then why?”

You know, if there was anyone I could be honest with about this it’d be Umbra. Not as if she’s liable to go off and blab to anyone. Like how it’s often very easy to be bracingly honest with strangers, easy to unload on someone you’ve never met and likely will never meet again. But no, not doing that. Not with her.

“Just, ah, curious, is all.”

Again, I can really, really feel her staring. Is it time to run yet? Probably not when she’s watching me. If I flick a coin somewhere, will she follow it? Probably not.

“I know what you are trying to do,” she says, once she figures out I’m just going to keep looking ahead and not looking at her.

“Are you reading my mind again?”

“No. I am aware that you do not want me to and so I am not. But I have previously, and so I knew already. You are trying to contact your father.”

Now I’m looking at her, just so I can focus my expression of disbelief and annoyance at her. Not that she seems to care. Rolls right off her, it does, but I give it to her anyway, because I am annoyed and I do not believe her.

“Bollocks you’re not reading my mind again! How the hell could you possibly know that? That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind the last time we met! How could it have?”

I got another stare.

“I saw enough to know it is what you would do.”

“Deduced it or whatever, then? Pieced it together?”

“Yes.”

“Pretty smart lady, then?”

The smile comes back. Real wide.

“Exceptionally smart.”

Eurgh. I turn back, put my elbows on my knees and my face in hands. This isn’t what I want to be doing or who I want to be doing it with. I want to be back in bed, asleep or otherwise. I want things to be pleasant and sedate and calm. Well, more pleasant and sedate and calm - my life is pretty great! This bit isn’t just very fun. And she scares me.

“Have you mentioned this to the others? Wanting to do this?” She asks.

“No, no, not to anyone.”

“You do not want to ask for their help, do you? Or have them offer it.”

I didn’t bother taking my face from my hands. Definitely one of those conversations where I’m just playing catchup to someone who feels they’ve solved all my problems and expects me to graciously tease the answers out of them. It’s like being back home, only it’s not raining and everyone has hooves.

“No end to your perceptiveness. No, I don’t. Guessing you’ve already worked out my exact reasons for why, right?” I asked.

“Of course. I know you. I know you better than anyone, likely better than you know yourself. Because I have-”

“-been inside me, yes.”

“Do not interrupt me.”

“Sorry. I’m not in the best mood.”

“Do not do it again. I know you better than you know yourself because I’ve seen sides of you that you take great pains to purposefully ignore. Sides that you are not even aware of as you have become so good at ignoring them.”

I very much doubt that I am deep enough to have bits that I don’t know about.

“Well great, Umbra, you got me figured out. Figured out what I’m trying to do and why I’m trying to do and, uh, everything else from top to bottom and side to side. It’s not the most vital or important thing in the world but it’s something that’s gnawing at me, so yeah. Mean, I haven’t actually been in the same room as dad for, pffbt, years, but that’s not really the point.”

I’m babbling. Put the brake on that, turn it around!

“You see your father much?” I ask Umbra. For kicks. Why not, right?

“My father is dead,” she says.

Whoops.

“Oh. Uh, sorry about that.”

It was hard to gauge where she stood on his being dead from the way she’d said it. Some people can be very laid back about that sort of thing, some people cannot. You never really know until you prod, and it’s rude to prod. So I prodded here gently. Turns out I needn’t have been gentle.

“Don’t be.”

Awkward.

“You, uh, have fond memories of him or…?” I ask, having now started this blasted line of conversation and feeling compelled to push it along a bit further. This seemed like something you should ask, yeah? Like a normal person? A normal person thing to ask?

“Many fond memories. I particularly remember his last words to me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. ‘Umbra, no!’”

“...that’s - that’s a joke, right?”

She just stares at me. Again. Ponies are really, really good at staring, I’ve learnt, though normally it’s not so unsettling. Or so cold.

“...the staring is part of the joke, right?” I ask.

A pause.

“Yes, John.”

Is saying that also part of the joke?

I really don’t think I want to know.

“I would be more than willing to help you,” she says.

That took me a second. I thought I’d misheard her at first, perhaps, but she’d spoken quite clearly and it was a pretty straightforward sentence. I raised my head from my hands and found her looking at me (again, for a given value of ‘her’ - it’s super-weird seeing the mannerisms and body language and everything of someone else stuffed into someone who isn’t them. Tickles the brain).

“You?” I asked.

She nodded.

“There is no area of magic that I have not mastered or would be unable to master were I to turn my attention towards it. Even if you did not wish your problem simply solved for you, I would be able to assist you in solving it for yourself. You could not receive better help in this world or, I would expect, any other. This is not an offer I would make for anyone else. You should not take it lightly.”

I wasn’t taking it lightly. Mostly I was just confused. She didn’t seem the sort to be offering help, even if she wanted something in return - she seemed more the taking sort if she wanted something. And it wasn’t like I had anything in the first place.

So yeah, confused.

“Why?”

“Because it is you, and because I can see that this is a source of some anxiety to you, though you perhaps either do not realise the depth of it or are unwilling to consider it too closely. Whichever the answer happens to be it is something that is making you unhappy, and I dislike this. You are less interesting when you are mopey.”

Ah, there it was. I did have something. Myself. And she’d already tried taking that.

“Heh, enlightened self-interest, then?”

“Partly. I also dislike to see you anxious. It displeases me. Whether you consider that self-interested or not is up to you. It remains true either way.”

“Huh…”

Full of surprises, her.

“So what is your answer?”

“My answer?”

“To my offer. I was quite serious.”

She wanted an answer right now? I’d barely had time to think twice about it! Or once! Or at all! Initial gut-feeling is noooooooo, which seems about right, but maybe I’m wrong?

“Well, I mean, it’s very generous of you, obviously, it’s just that, well, you know, you’re not the most popular around here and you did kidnap me that one time so forgive me if I’m one one-hundred percent one the idea at a base level. I’m making kind of slow and steady progress on my own and with a bit of Twilight’s help - lovely girl, Twilight, you know - so while I’m sure you’d certainly be able to, ah, boost where I’m at, I don’t really feel, Umbra, that-”

“Stop your babbling, John, and stop playing for time. How you feel about the offer is immaterial. Either accept it or don’t.”

“What? You’ll just leave me alone from now on if I say no?”

“Of course not. I just won’t help you with your problem and, as a result, it will never be resolved.”

Too much to hope for, I guess.

“So I’ll be mopey and unfun forever?” I ask, pointing out what, by her own professed reasons, seems to be a flaw in her plan. To me at least.

“I will learn to live with it. As will you.”

“...I really can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“Yes. Or. No, John.”

Jesus Christ. The eyes went red again.

Really, there was only one answer here. Right? Anything other than the obvious answer would have been unimaginably stupid. Even as an idle thought experiment it was stupid. There was no way anything other than the obvious would end well. So the answer was easy. Well, easy to come up with, less easy to say, because I had a feeling it wasn’t going to land happily.

Still, nothing else for it. Take a breath.

“No, sorry. Thanks for the truly unexpected offer and all but, uh, no. I’ll just hacking away at it on my own, fruitlessly or not,” I said, bracing myself.

For a couple of seconds it looks like she’s just completely frozen. Not even a muscle twitches. It’s eerie. Then one of her ears flicks.

“No-one has ever refused me,” she said. She sounded honestly a bit confused.

“Have you ever offered anyone help?”

“That is beside the point. No-one has ever refused me.”

The confusion is gone now. Irritation is creeping in. The kind of disbelieving irritation, where something has happened that’s so ridiculous and silly but which has still messed things up and now you have a mess to deal with. That kind of irritation. I can recognise that kind of irritation. I have experience of it.

“Thought you said if I said no you’d just not offer me help,” I say.

“That was before you said no. Now that you have I have found myself unhappy with your answer.”

“But it’s my answer.”

“It is the wrong answer.”

“That - I’m not sure what you want from me, Umbra.”

“A better answer, John.”

Okay, definitely time to go, I think.

Not much chance of sneaking away though. Bugger. It’s going to have to be something more, uh, forceful, isn’t it? This is going downhill fast and she’s not someone I could just walk away from, I’m getting the feeling. So what? Need to make a window. Need something bold.

Um…

My tea had cooled down by now, properly, and while I’d drunk a fair amount, an equally fair amount remained in the cup. I risked a little look down. Yup, that was a fair amount of lukewarm too.

Idea forming. Yes.

I felt bad about what I was about to do to her volunteer given it wasn’t, you know, his fault or anything like that, but sometimes in life you have to do unpleasant things to people you bear no personal ill-will towards.

Right? Pretty sure that’s a thing.

“John, what-”

Argh! Mind reading or not she knows something’s up! Act! Act now!

Tea to the face! Followed up by book across the jaw which, given the size of the book, is no joke. Sends the poor volunteer flying, oof. Sorry buddy.

Now run!

She - or the body she’s presently joyriding, whatever - can teleport, sure, but that only matters if she knows where I am! I know these streets though! Kind of! I can pick a nice, sneaky route! Left here, right there, down here, up there - I’m like the fucking wind!

Right! Back to the castle! Palace! Whatever! Find Celestia! Tell her the whole thing! Top to bottom! Just honesty! Should have done that in the first place! Why didn’t I think of that before?! Just tell her the whole thing! And especially start with Umbra! And how she can apparently just hop into her minions and sneak around! That’s news to me, might be news to Celestia too!

It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine. I can see the castle from here! It’s just there! Few streets away. I got long legs! I’ll be there in no time!

I round a corner and run more-or-less straight into some poor, hapless unicorn coming the other way. They come out alright but I’m less lucky because, in my effort not to just flatten them, I reflexively kind of, uh, hurled myself over the top of them. I never knew I was so acrobatic. And I’m not, really, it was more of a spring and I did not stick the landing. Pretty sure I managed to do a proper forward flip. Certainly knocked the wind out of me.

“Ow, fuck. Uh, sorry about that, wasn’t looking where I was going,” I say, wincing and heaving back up onto my feet again. The unicorn - some lady unicorn I don’t recognise - seems very relaxed about it though. Very relaxed indeed, actually. She’s smiling about it.

“I did not expect that, John. I’m almost impressed,” she says.

“...shit.”

She could hop. Hop between bodies. And she’d brought others. Hadn’t seen that coming.

More running!

Manage to get, oh, I don’t know, three steps or something before my leg gives out. My good leg. What had been my bad leg but had since been my good, perfectly dependable leg. Put my weight onto it like it’s nothing and pow, just collapses. I go sideways, clonk my head on a wall, collapse. Pretty sure I bit something too. I can taste blood.

Try to stand up, fail. Leg not responding at all. Also my mouth hurts, ow.

Look down. Grab my leg, give it an accusing shake. Nothing.

“Leg?! Now?! I thought you were better!”

Still nothing. Less than nothing, actually. It had never been this bad before. It’s like it’s gone to sleep. Limp, dead weight.

And she’s approaching. Whelp, my other leg is working, and so are my arms, so we’re crawling away! Flipping over and crawling away!

Or we would have been had my arm - the left one, the bad side one, that one that had also been good up until now - not given out. I went flop onto my face. Could really taste blood, definitely bit something. Ow.

One arm is still good! I can haul away with one arm.

I can hear that she’s beside me now.

“Mending the damage done to your body was a courtesy. A courtesy that can be withdrawn.”

Oh come on!

I roll onto my back, with some difficulty. She does not look happy. Or well, actually.

Smoke, little trails of very dark smoke, was starting to trail from bits of her - from the body she was in now - bits like the corners of the eyes, the tip of her horn, the edges of her hooves. If I had to make a guess - and I’m not exactly an expert here - I’d say that Umbra was throwing more down the waring pipe than this volunteer could actually handle. Not that she would likely care about that sort of thing. They had volunteered, after all…

“I must say, John, I didn’t think you had it in you. But now really isn’t the time for this sort of thing.”

“I’m not so sure about that!”

She clambers onto me, so she stand on top of me and keep me pinned down, I guess? Had she been her regular size this probably would have been considerably less comfortable, but since she was in a teeny pony body it was more bearable. Still not fun, though. Cute as ponies are, this was not cute. She was looking down at me, eyes red, smoking. Horn smoking. Nostrils smoking a little.

“Will you accept my help?” She asked.

I’m not sure what I’d been expecting to come next but it had been more serious and dramatic than that. I’d expected something nasty and explosive and magical, given everything that had happened. Not that.

“...that’s it? That’s what this was about?”

“Of course. You said no. No-one refuses me.”

“...so you’re asking, but you’ll only accept one answer?”

“Yes.”

“And you messed up my leg and everything with magic and chased me just to make me accept your help in…learning…magic…?”

“Yes.”

“...you do know what disproportionate means, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she said, in a way that made it pretty clear she didn’t think what she’d done was disproportionate.

She’d stopped smoking now.

Alright. New plan. Agree, and then immediately tell everyone what happened. That seems simple enough, right? Nod, smile, play along - ‘Oh Umbra you crazy one, you, I couldn’t say no to you! We’ll have a wacky time, I’m sure! No hard feelings!’ - then the second she’s out of sight go to Celestia and Twilight and Luna and all of Twilight’s friends, maybe, and anyone else who looks like they want to pitch in and tell them what happened. Doesn’t even matter if I have to explain a little of what I was doing, there’s no other way.

So yes, new plan. Simple!

…why is she looking at me like that?

“John,” she says, slowly. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“...mind reading?”

“No, please stop accusing me of that, I said I wouldn’t do that, didn’t I? I’m just not stupid. You’re thinking of agreeing, of saying yes.”

“Yes?”

“And then telling Celestia what happened and about me.”

Bollocks.

“...no! Never.”

“You are a poor liar. But it’s okay. It is the obvious thing for you to do.”

“...which leaves us where?”

“Here. And here is what I am going to do - what we are going to do. You are going to accept my help, and I will ensure that you do not tell anyone that you have accepted my help.”

“How’s that?”

“I will seal off your ability to tell anyone you have accepted my help.”

I’m not sure what she means there. I heard her, obviously, and I understand the words she used, but they describe something I cannot wrap my head around. What does that mean, exactly? In practise? What does it mean for me? Nothing good, I’m guessing.

“How- what? How can you do that? Can you do that?”

“Of course I can do that. It’s just a case of placing a few blocks in your head. Small ones, enough to keep you from saying what you shouldn’t. Nothing more.”

The scope of this is daunting, but I really don’t need to comprehend all of it to hate it. I was uncomfortable when she was poking around my head looking at what I had lying around, the thought of her putting things in there is something else entirely. There’s a stomach-twisting level of incoherent fear in that idea, for me, and that she’s this close to me and just casually throwing it out…

“You’re joking! You’re not joking?! Umbra, come on! That’s as bad as the mind reading! No, worse! It’s worse!”

“No it’s not,” she said.

It’s quite jarring having someone just bluntly, flatly disagree with you without even offering so much as a hint of their reasoning. When someone feels their position is so self-evidently obvious and unassailable that the need to explain or justify it doesn’t even cross their minds. It’s like running into a wall. A wall of self-belief, I guess?

“...it is!” I say, about all I can muster. She just shakes her head at me, like I’m being unreasonable.

“No, it is not John. It’s not the same and it certainly isn’t worse.”

“It’s fiddling with my brain! Thought you said you wouldn’t do that to me. Didn’t you say that? You said that! I remember you saying that! Come on!”

“It is nothing like that. It’s simply a few minor, magical blocks to ensure you do not cause unnecessary trouble for either of us. They will be unobtrusive, the process is painless. You will not even notice they are there.”

Nope, no.

“Unless I try to do the thing you don’t want me to do!”

“You won’t even notice then.”

Sinister.

“...that’s so worse! No, Umbra! Just-”

This is really not great. Nope, none of this is good, this is all bad. Should have learnt some self-defence, should have brought someone to watch me, shouldn’t have ever left the castle - fuck, shouldn’t have ever left the bed. Nope, awful. Not having anything else done to my head, magical or otherwise, not by her. Worked out alright last time, this time no, not this.

So I’m leaving.

With a lot of effort I heave back onto my front, tossing her off in the process, and I get back on trying to escape. It’s not, you know, easy with only one leg and one arm, but I can work with that. Can get kind of a bounding flop going, covers enough distance. And look! Down the end! Stairs! I can fall down those! Maybe into a street with some help? Hell, it’s all I’ve got, I’ll take it!

But I’m being pulled backwards!

“You’re making this much harder than it needs to be, John.”

“Yes! I am! Think about why! Look inward!”

“You are dramatic sometimes.”

I’m trying to pull myself forward but I’m not going anywhere!

“Really, this is silly. I am doing you a favour, John.”

We’re well past that!

“It’s not about the favour! I’m flattered you offered, really, but it’s fine! I don’t want your help, okay?! That’s what I said! I’m not saying yes! I’m saying no, okay? I’m saying no to you! I don’t want your help!”

I cannot believe this level of nonsense if flowing from me wanting to write a fucking letter.

“You’re saying that, but I’ve decided you don’t mean that. It’s not a good answer, and it’s not an answer I’ll accept. No, this way we’ll both be happy. In the end.”

“I’m not happy!”

“You will be. In the end. Now hold still.”

Author's Note

That's probably a bit incoherent and probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but I'm operating on very little sleep and it all just sort of rushed out after I thought it through on the walk to work.

Certainly, the original idea - when I wrote parts of this chapter a billion years ago - where John just said basically "Yeah alright" was stupid, because that is such a ridiculously bad decision to make even I couldn't excuse it. This way I can have my cake and eat it!

Probably. If nothing else, more problems! Yay!

Carry on

I’m sitting on a bench. That’s not unusual. What’s keeping me frozen rigid on the bench is that I have no idea how I got to be sitting on the bench.

Memory loss is kind of a cliche with me at this point, I’d say. You’d think I’d be over it, but it never really loses the horrible, horrible novelty. It’s extremely disconcerting just having chunks of your life missing, especially if the gaps are, say, immediately following being pinned by a crazy lady. Magic horse lady. Unicorn.

Well, her brainslave, not her technically. Not that that’s much better…

Kind of afraid to move. I’m hugging the book for emotional support but it’s not giving me much back. I wiggle my toes. Everything seems to be working again, which is nice? Umbra didn’t leave me back how I’d been before she fiddled with me the first time? She fixed me, unfixed me, and has now fixed me again.

Christ, that lady.

I don’t want to keep sitting here. Not sure if there’s anywhere specific I’d prefer to be, but basically anywhere that wasn’t where I was would be better. Under a duvet and behind a locked door would be ideal, but I’d be willing to settle for less. Whatever happens I need to move.

Bracing myself, I lunge upward. This works out alright and nothing bad happens. I am now standing up, still hugging the book. Let’s get this done quick, back to the palace ricky-tick.

Heh, rhyme.

Hustling from the little garden I’d mysteriously ended up in I hustled back in what felt like the direction of a main thoroughfare, found a main thoroughfare, and from there managed to get myself heading the right way. For all its faults the palace is at least easy to spot and head towards.

On my way I pass many ponies. This is perhaps unsurprising and, normally, wouldn’t have really warranted much concern. But today had stopped being normal, and I have concerns about these ponies. Some of them smile at me. A lot of them smile at me. Some of them wave.

Mean, that’s pretty normal, that usually happens. Just, this time, well, you know - are any of them her? Secretly? I wave back and do the smile but I’m also looking for red eyes, maybe little bits of smoke. Don’t see any, but so what?

Not a fan of this. Paranoia is exhausting.

Much happier once I’m into the palace, swanning in like it’s not a big deal on account of me shacking up the lady in charge - perks!

Right, that’s the first part of all this dealt with. I’m back somewhere home-ish. Now what? Well, now the next bit, obviously. The harder bit. Sigh.

Plan of action? Keep all this under my hat and just hope it never comes up again? As much as that would have been my first choice, sadly, I think not. I think we’re definitely past any of that, we’re into serious territory now.

The excuse of “Oh, I don’t want to bother my girlfriend, I don’t want to have her worrying!” isn’t going to cut it now, because we’re talking about someone who they’ve battled with magical laserbeams before. Right? Enemy of the state and all that, all round unpleasant tyrant queen lady. We need to draw a line under this, so we’re just going to lay it all out. And have conversations about things.

It’s going to be awkward, yes, but that’s it, we’re done. This whole thing has got out of hand and was a stupid idea back before Umbra stuck her oar in.

If you hadn’t decided you needed a secret project you probably wouldn’t even be in this mess!

Continuing to berate myself inside my brain (as is my custom) I wandered about the palace without paying a whole lot of actual attention to the route I was taking and, in the process of doing this, very nearly walked smack into Luna. Small world.

“John,” she said, tipping her head to me in greeting. I tipped back at her.

“Luna,” I said. “You going to bed?”

She looked at me oddly because of that.

“The day is drawing to a close, the moon shall be rising soon,” she said.

On a reflex that was perhaps a decade out of date I look at my wrist. Since I didn’t have a watch this didn’t tell me anything other than that I still had wrists. Had to play through though.

“Later than I thought,” I said, putting my arm back down again. Luna was no longer looking at me oddly, she was now looking at me flatly, apparently having concluded all of that had just been a bit. Fine by me. “Is, uh - Twilight wouldn’t still happen to be around, would she? From whatever it was she was here for? Or is she still busy or…?” I asked.

“Twilight has had to return to Ponyville,” said Luna.

Bugger.

“Oh. That’s sudden, isn’t it?” I asked.

“An emergency, apparently,” she said, though she didn’t sound especially concerned. I was concerned, if only because I liked Twilight in one piece. Lovely girl can handle herself, yes, but I still worry!

“Anything we should be worried about?” I asked.

“That remains to be seen.”

“Lovely…”

Twilight was my first choice for spilling the beans to, as odd as that might have seemed to any outside observers who just-so happened to be privy to my rich internal life (hello, outside observers). Some might have thought Celestia would have been my first port of call but, for one, that seemed too obvious to me, and for two, well, I’d still prefer not to bother my horse-girlfriend if I can soften the landing of the bad news by bothering my horse-friend with it first.

Being the runner-up in my affections (albeit wholly platonic, for which I’m sure she’s profoundly grateful), not to mention my study-buddy, it seemed somehow more fitting to go with this stuff to Twilight anyway. Don’t you think? Yes I do think, thank you for asking.

And why aren’t I telling Luna? She’s right in front of me, right now, and she’sjust as competent and capable as any of the others - why not tell her?

Well, because she’s busy, obviously, or about to be, so I don’t want to bother her. It has nothing whatsoever to do with how she out of everyone else I might conceivably tell is the one I imagine is most likely to get upset with me. So don’t even suggest that. It isn’t that. It’s the other thing.

So with Twilight elsewhere and Luna not an option (because of all the busy-business she had to deal with, see my previous statements on the matter) that left Celestia. She was also busy right at that moment but I could, you know, wait for that to finish, that was fine. Different kind of busy. Transient busy-ness.

Thus, mooching around. I make a big effort of returning the book I had been lugging around and, once that failed to kill enough time to make Celestia magically appear, just kind of wandered a bit, went to some rooms, looked at pictures, and generally felt the slow crawl of time drag like a cheesegrater across my soul.

Eventually, blissfully, it ends. I was lying on Celestia’s bed (again, perks) staring blankly at the ceiling and giving serious consideration to abusing her washing facilities by having a truly luxuriant bath when I heard the doors open. In my mad scramble to see her I promptly fell off the bed, though I will admit to certain grace in my spring back to my feet straight after.

And there she is, tiredly coming into the room and - oh, be still my heart! - lighting up on seeing me.

Blaming the high emotion of the day, at the sight of her I find myself quite overcome. Before I even know what I’m doing I am running right at her. Given I’ve longer legs than most this works out surprisingly fast, faster than I actually expected, and given I’m not exactly a gust of wind the thought of how I’m meant to stop in time occurs only far too late.

I do my best not to bodyslam her in my haste to get to her, but there’s still an impact. I’m glad she’s hefty as well as wonderfully soft and lovely. If it had been Twilight I probably would have trampled the poor girl. Celestia, like a trooper, remains solid as a rock. I latch onto her like a limpet.

She laughs. The sound instantly evaporates maybe half of the anxiety at that moment constricting my brain. That still leaves the other half, obviously, but it’s still a significant reduction. She’s great like that.

“You know, with that sort of thing, somepony might start to think she’s been missed,” she says. I can’t really say anything to that because I’m too busy continuing to cling to her.

Only now that I’m somewhere safe - i.e. wrapped around Celestia - does the weight of it all start to settle over me. You know. What happened, what might need to happen next, blah blah blah. All that.

Sure, don’t get me wrong, I’m a big tough grr manly man who laughs in the face of everything and eats broken glass and gunpowder and shits out anvils, yes, but even so the experience of getting chased and dragged around is kind of unpleasant. It wasn’t something I had a lot of history with before, and I’d be happy if today’s episode remains the extent of my history with it. I did not like it.

And that’s not even getting into the whole getting zapped in the head thing again. However that’s working out. I don’t really want to think about it.

Something about my prolonged clinging and silence seems to tip Celestia off at this point that maybe I’m not just happy to see her. She pulls away a little and I can feel her peering down at me (or peering at me - we are, as I always like to mention, close in height (with me just coming out on top (because the horn doesn’t count))).

“John? What’s the matter?”

Alright, here we go. I pull back a little bit as well and take a breath.

“It’s-”

…what? It’s what?

What was she talking about? Why’s she looking at me like that? Did I miss something?

“What?” I ask. She raises an eyebrow.

“What what? You’re the one talking!”

I was?

Oh yeah, oops. I was.

“Oh? Oh! Oh yes, sorry.”

That gets a giggle, always a plus.

“So what was it?” She asks me, and I shrug.

“I’ve no idea, heh.”

Can’t be that important, whatever it was. Knowing me I can’t imagine it could be anything important. Important things happen around me, not to me.

“So just speechless in my radiant presence, then?” She asks, with delicious coyness. She can really nail coyness, my girl. One of her many qualities.

“Oh, totally. Your radiant presence has that effect on me, lovely. It’s an effort to speak most of the time, I’m so dumbstruck.”

“Not that much of an effort…”

“Oi, cheeky,” I said, and I would have accompanied this with a playful swat that may or may not have been entirely family-friendly but, just on the off-chance someone would see, I did not. A shame. Maybe later, when she least expected it. “You done for that day then?” I asked instead, and she nodded.

“Done,” she said.

“Excellent. Let’s do something ridiculous. Cram some fireworks into my underpants and roll me off a balcony or something. That’d be good for an opener, I think. Set the tone.”

She stifled a snort. The stifled snorts were always the cutest ones.

“Maybe tomorrow, darling, if that’s alright with you. I’d rather like to just relax. It has been a day,” she says, now stifling a yawn. A lot of stifling going on around here. I nod at her because I am free and easy.

“Tomorrow bright and early it is then, works for me,” I said, giving a thumbs up.

“You’re in a strange mood,” she says with a smile, and I can’t help but grin back.

“I am, aren’t I? Happens to the best of us. Ah! But speaking of ideas - and relaxing - how does this strike you: bath?”

After all, a luxuriant bath on your own to kill time is one thing. A luxuriant bath with your lovely significant other? That’s quite another. That’s a whole something else, that’s an evening or at least most of one. And a good one, too!

“Bath good,” Celestia said flatly, taking the laconic ball and running with it.

“Bubbles bath?” I asked. The smile - which she’d banished from her face in trying to be all stoic and terse - tried to get back, but she was a professional and managed not to crack, at least not completely.

“Bubbles bath better,” she said.

We screwed up our faces into expressions of frank seriousness and nodded at each other like the weighty statespersons discussing matters of gravity that we were. We could both agree that, yes, bubbles bath better.

Then we cracked up.