Scars to your Beautiful

by DumbDog

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Luna, Drama, Tempest Shadow, Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad
Length: 3334

Fizzlepop Berrytwist struggles with a new life.

Fizzlepop Berrytwist struggles with a new life.

Published 2019-08-19 04:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-08-19 04:20:02 UTC

New Beginnings

How could I, of all ponies, have gotten this lucky?

Not even a full day ago had she brought Equestria to its knees, shackled its citizens in chains, and imprisoned their princesses in stone, yet they insisted she have a luxurious room just down the hall from them. They had ordered her pillows fluffed, and her bed made with sheets of the finest silk. To Tartarus with that! She was a villain, a warrior, an assassin! Not a hero, not an esteemed guest, but they insisted she be treated like one.

She felt otherwise.

Her pillow exploded as she huffed. A flurry of white feathers, barely visible, fluttered about listlessly as they swirled about the dark room. The light from her horn faded away, leaving her with no regrets from her actions. “I don’t deserve any of this...” she muttered as she pushed herself out of bed.

After shuffling around the moonlit room, she discovered a vent big enough for her to slip into. After about a half-hour or so of crawling through the vents, she’d found one that led her outside of the castle and into a convenient alley. From there she padded around the city until an a barred iron door, badly rusted, caught her eye.

She gripped the door’s tarnished handle and pulled it open, relinquishing a painful creak, disrupting the quiet night. She opened it enough for her to slip inside, and in a second, she was swallowed in darkness.

And in the next, blue electricity pierced it. The sparks from her horn weren’t much, but they were enough to help her recognize the immediately descending staircase of stone before her. She walked down it for what felt like hours, but in reality, was only mere minutes. Upon reaching the bottom, she was greeted with an orange flicker on the ceiling, a light bulb cloaked in cobwebs before a corridor of more darkness. Promising, she thought, trotting off into the abyss, reigniting her blue static as she moved out of reach of the light.

Apart from the sound of dripping water from the peeled, rusty pipes above her, and the occasional scurrying of rats from further down the hall, nothing but silence met her ears. Down here, the darkness was still. Too still.

Not far from the light’s reach, the right side of the hall began to line up with cells, their bars mangled, walls draped in mold and muck.

Perfect.

She continued on until she found a cell she liked. The bars were all still sturdy, the lock was intact apart from some rusting, and she was far, far away from the practically invisible light.

Noticing a rusty ring of keys held up with a single nail on the wall, she grabbed them between her teeth and trotted into the first cell, then locked herself in. Tossing the keys just within reach of a hoof outside the cell, she sat down and looked around. Protruding from the wall was a serviceable, yet undesirable stone slab, the size of a twin bed with none of the comfort apart from a threadbare pillow that reeked, covered in rat droppings. A sharp exhale pierced the stagnant air, followed by a small gasp, then finally a growl. In a flash, a tendril of electricity zapped the pillow, making it explode just like the one in her bedroom.

Fizzlepop groaned. “Better,” she murmured to nopony in particular. She curled up on the slab, flicked her tail around her, and closed her eyes.

An unknown amount of time later, her eyes shot open. She felt a prick, like something was gnawing on her front left hoof. “Get out of here!” she yelled, swatting whatever it was away. With a groan, she pulled her head off the slab, sitting up against the wall. Balanced on her haunches, her forehooves dug into the hard bed while her hind legs dangled off the edge. Her head swiveled from side to side, making her wince as her neck relinquished a resounding pop. She rubbed the nape of her neck and leaned forward, slipping off the bed and wobbling onto all fours.

Eyes clenched, she prayed for her burning migraine to disappear as she stumbled across the cell to the sink. She glanced at the old mirror smeared with muck, cracked like torrid earth. She grated her teeth, praying her pain would go away, but a small part of her reminded her she deserved the pain. With a huff, electricity radiated from her horn, providing enough light to catch a glimpse of her reflection.

“Lovely...” she muttered. Releasing another pointed sigh, she turned on the faucet and waited. She wasn’t entirely sure it would work, or how long it’d been since it was last used, but with the amount of rattling the pipes were doing, it was a solid bet. She stared cross-eyed at the faucet as if trying to intimidate it, and surely, it got the hint. When it seemed like it was about to give up, a thin stream of water finally poured from the faucet. She splashed the foul-smelling water on her face and blinked several times, the lingering traces of blurriness fading from her vision. She still couldn’t see much in the dark underground, but at least she could see her hooves.

Fizzlepop squinted at the cracked mirror once more. Her crimson coat was too dark to see in the darkness, for all the mirror revealed was her eyes, and with a tilt, the outline of one her least favorite memories impressed across her right eye

Leaning down, she swiped the old warden’s keys off of the floor, opened her cell door, and slinked into the hallway. In the distance was a pinprick of orange, so faint, if she closed her eyes, it’d disappear.

Her hooves clacked against the freezing floor, remedying the clamor inside her head. She breathed erratically, her mostly-calm demeanor fractured by the thoughts nagging her conscious just as they’d done all night. She had no idea how many hours she’d spent in the abandoned prison, but it couldn’t have been more than four or five since Twilight had left her in her room at the palace.

She quickly trotted through the measly blanket of warmth the light provided, it was a sliver of comfort in the frigid penitentiary.

She didn’t deserve the comfort.

She hurried through it, then up the staircase, until she met the iron door atop the stairwell. She paused, shut her eyes, and flicked her ears back, plopping her haunches down on the top step. She exhaled, then rested her head against the door; it was as cold as the stone slab she’d laid on, shooting shivers down her spine so intense she was forced to reopen her eyes. She teetered back on her feet, and with a showing of strength, forced the door open.

Immediately, a refreshing breeze caressed her coat, the sensation overwhelming her senses. She took a deep breath, then blinked, adjusting her vision to the light, though not much was present. It was still early in the morning, no later than four or five, she guessed. The night was clear, shimmering stars pinned across the sky, accentuating the centerpiece: a full moon, the resting place of her gaze. She concentrated on the moon, admiring it, as her heart wrenched inside. It was beautiful. Never before had she felt so close to it, either. To think, she was ready to cast it away.

She hung her head, her shoulders slumping forward as she crouched low to the ground, hips rocking back and forth before she darted. Swiftly, she cut through Canterlot, every once and while glancing up at her destination: the outer gate.

With all that had happened, Fizzlepop figured getting past the gate undetected would be no easy task. She imagined security wouldn’t only increase in size, but it’d be more stringent too. From an alleyway, she observed the guards at the gate. There were at least a dozen of them, and the gate itself was now protected by a magical force field, earning a wince from Fizzlepop. Escaping wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought it would.

She retreated back into the alleyway, and took a seat, this time leaning up against a building. Brick was by no means cozy, but it was better than icy iron or stone.

She slipped off the wall and curled up into a ball, like a cat. More comfortable? That was debatable, but it was definitely warmer. Fizzlepop was perplexed, it really wasn’t that cold out. It was Autumn in Equestria, and she’d withstood bone-chilling blizzards in the Yakistanian mountains. This was nothing. Then why was she shivering? Why did she feel so dizzy? Her chest was heavy, her legs were heavy, pretty much her everything was heavy. Sure, she hadn’t slept in a few days, but she was no stranger to sleepless nights. Everything about her felt amiss.

She clenched her eyes shut, thoughts running rampant through her head. She pressed her hooves to her temples, and with a biting snarl, rose to her feet once more. Muttering obscenities in attempt to dull throbbing pain in her head, she peered out of the alleyway, back to the gate. She squinted, devising a plan in her head. With a little carnage, she could escape, she was sure of it. What was one more life to her?

What was one more life to her?

What was one more life to her?

Fizzlepop froze, the question going off in her head like a siren, as she stumbled back into the alley. A surge of emotion overwhelmed her, and her eyes began to burn. She sat down, and buried her head in her forelegs.

No, no, no! She scolded herself. You can’t say that! You can’t think that! What are you even doing? She knocked the side of her head with one of her hooves, “Come on, Tempest.” she said, paused, then sighed. “Fizzlepop…” she murmured. After a quick shake of her head, she sat up straight as a ruler, and breathed, trying to calm herself down.

She steadied her breath, wiping a forehoof across her forehead. “What are you doing, Fizzlepop?”

Over the course of the night she’d managed to convince herself the damage she caused, and the devastation she brought was unforgivable; and really, who wouldn’t? All that she did, life behind bars would have been charitable. Though it didn’t seem like the rulers were interested in punishing her. She’d been long removed from Equestrian society, but she figured it common sense not to put the most wanted villain in the nation a couple doors down from the nation’s rulers—yes, all four of them. Not to mention with free reign save for a couple guards outside her door, and outside her window. She didn’t understand it. Still, she feared punishment.

That wasn’t why she was running though. She didn’t deserve to be in Equestria. Perhaps the Princesses’ would lock her up, and her due justice would be served, and for all she knew, they very well could. If they weren’t, however, she had no business being in the land she’d all but brought to ruins. It would be better to run now. It would be easier to run now, too. There was nothing to hold her back, and once she was gone, she'd never return. She'd never burden Equestria ever again. There was no other reason for her to stay.

Her heart begged to differ. She gripped her chest as traces of last night that had been lingering in the back of her mind emerged. Last night, for the first time in years, she felt relieved. Remnants of nostalgia flooded her senses, enthralling her in the spectacle, the party, but she didn’t allow herself to enjoy it. She was estranged, despite her vague sense of familiarity, her head told her otherwise. Her head reminded her how different she was from everybody else. She scoffed, how wasteful, partying. She clung to the outskirts of the crowd, refusing to enter. All night she dodged askance looks, and combatted the thoughts the Storm King had instilled in her, practically instincts at this point. A mixture of feelings quarreled within her until she’d finally had enough. She sighed, and walked away from the show, only to be stopped in her tracks by Twilight Sparkle, her liberator.

A short exchange later, warmth felt Fizzlepop’s chest as she swelled with pride. Frissons of joy coursed through her, and in a song, a dance, and a drink she was elated. It was the best night she ever had.

Then, in a dimming of lights, a clean up, and an escort to the palace her ecstasy faded. Violet eyes of truth, like a thousand needles, stung her, as she stood outside of her room.

“What now?” Fizzlepop asked, eyes slipping to the floor.

The Princess of Friendship blinked; they were the only two in the corridor of guest rooms, two specks in the towering passageway. “I’m not sure yet. The other princesses’ and I… We haven’t talked yet. I was allowed the night with you, Celestia’s permission.”

“Is that why I’m not in shackles?”

“No!” Twilight jumped, Fizzlepop’s eyes snapping upward. “It’s not like that at all. We’re meeting in the morning and…

“You’re going to decide what to do with me?”

“No. That’s not—well, it’s not how I’d word it anyways.” Twilight rubbed the nape of her neck, avoiding Fizzlepop’s weary gaze.

“I can make it easy for you, if you’d like. I think I’d rather sleep in a cell—”

“No.”

“A lot of ‘no’s,’ huh?”

“No, it’s not—” Twilight groaned, paused, then her eyes softened. “Fizzlepop,” she said, closing the gap between them, “what you did you may think is unforgivable, but you must remember, if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. When the dust settled, and my friends and I were vulnerable, you sacrificed yourself for us. You saved our lives, and Equestria.” Twilight placed a hoof on Fizzlepop’s shoulder, gracing her muzzle with a petite smile. “You’re a good pony that wandered down the wrong path, and you had no one to stop you from doing it. I may not know all of it, and I know what you did to Equestria, but I also know you did what was right when it mattered most. And the Princesses’ will know that, too.”

Twilight laid a hoof over Fizzlepop’s chest, thumping away. Fizzlepop tilted her head as Twilight spoke, and looked down at her hoof as she finished. She thought to pull away, but decided against it. She tried to speak, but as the words caught in her throat, she closed her mouth, and drew back slightly, stealing a glance at the floor before returning her gaze to Twilight.

“It’s alright. it’s been a long past few days. You should get some rest.” Twilight opened the door to Fizzlepop’s room and motioned her inside.

Fizzlepop stepped inside and her eyes went wide, it truly was a royal guest room, “Twilight, I can’t—”

“No. You will.” Twilight said, smile unwavering.

“Twilight, really, I don’t think I should be here. It’s nice, it’s, uh.” Fizzlepop swallowed. “Wow,” she said, flicking her ears back as her cheeks flamed from within.

“Don’t worry about it—” Twilight said, her words distorted as she stifled a yawn. “Oh me, I’m tired, I forgot how long it’s been since I last slept.”

Fizzlepop’s ears folded on the back of her head, “oh, uh, sorry.”

“Heh, don’t worry about it. That was like, twenty four hours ago, it’s no big deal.”

Fizzlepop pursed her lips, trotting deeper into her room. “Right.” She stopped, gawking at her bed. She’d never seen cloth so nice. She lifted a hoof off the floor, only to yank it back down. None of this felt right. Was this a trick? This couldn’t be right, who gave their prisoner sheets much less priceless ones? Was she even a prisoner? She backed away from the bed, firing a glance at Twilight. “I can’t sleep here.”

Twilight relinquished a sigh, ambling to Fizzlepop’s side. “I know this must all be… strange to you, but this is how we do things in Equestria. We have jail cells, yes, but they’ve been out of commission for years, in the city’s underground. You can’t stay there. And Celestia specifically ordered me to retire you to this room.”

Fizzlepop unleashed a sigh of her own.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Twilight said, “there are guards assigned to be outside of your room and window.” She nudged Fizzlepop with a foreleg. “I could order more, if you’d like.”

Tempest shot Twilight a sideways look, then offered a half-smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re wel-wel-” —Another yawn cut Twilight short— “-come. Sweet Celestia, I’m tired.”

“I don’t want to keep you,” Fizzlepop said.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not in a rush it’s just—” Another yawn escaped her, earning a smirk from Fizzlepop.

“You were saying?”

Twilight sniggered, wiping her watery eyes. “I’ll send some guards to your room,” she said, returning the smirk. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” She noticed Fizzlepop grin, then open her mouth. “That isn’t in regards to staying in a cell.” Fizzlepop clamped her mouth shut.

Fizzlepop allowed herself to chuckle. “Everything’s as good as it’s going to get.”

“Good,” Twilight said with a nod. “I won’t be around immediately, since we’re meeting early, but when I do see you tomorrow, I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Tell them 1000 years on the moon is fine with me.”

“Fizzlepop—”

Fizzlepop raised her hooves in the air. “Kidding.”

Twilight rolled her eyes, and trotted out, peeking back in one last time. “Are you sure you—”

“Goodnight.” Fizzlepop said dryly.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure—”

“Goodnight,” she said again, feigning a half-smile, hoping it would be enough to satisfy the bubbly princess.

Twilight waited a moment, then offered a smile of her own. “Goodnight, Fizzlepop. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, as the door creaked shut.

A snide chuckle escaped Fizzlepop, followed by a pointed sigh. She stepped up to the bed and stared at it. A couple minutes passed before, with great hesitation she lifted a forehoof, and swiped it across the sheets. “Silk,” she whispered.

Fizzlepop shuddered as the chilly night pulled her back to reality, her aquamarine eyes introduced themselves to the darkened alleyway, rapidly blinking away the wateriness in her eyes. She gasped for breath. She was so entranced in her memory, she’d ignored the elements of Canterlot. A snapping wind rolled through the city, causing Fizzlepop’s teeth to chatter for a moment. She swallowed hard, teetered off her hindquarters and onto her hooves. She relished in a deep exhale through her nostrils, and walked out to the entrance of the alleyway, She turned her head one way, towards the gate escaping Canterlot, and allowing her eyes to rest on the magnificent archway. Then, in a twist of her neck, she settled her gaze on the Royal Palace, so illustrious—so intimidating.

A welt formed in Fizzlepop’s throat and she swallowed lightly, retracting a hoof to her chest. With an exasperated sigh, her posture faltered, her muzzle hovering inches above the ground. The whipping wind around her calmed, transforming into a gentle breeze, the light sensation drew a twitch of the ears before they folded onto the back of her head. Steadying her breath, she stood back up, chin square and eyes steady as she planted herself onto the ground. For moments she stood there, waiting. She squeezed her eyes shut, and with caution, her hooves feeling like ankle weights—she took a step.

Author's Note

This is two years old, and honestly never figured I'd upload this, but I found myself working on the second chapter, and I hadn't posted something in two years, so why not. Enjoy. Or don't, the choice is yours. It's definitely rough around the edges, I know.