The Last Trial of Clover the Clever

by Nyronus

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Clover the Clever, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Luna, Drama, Equestria Girls
Length: 5501

Clover tries to do one of the hardest thing any old soldier can do: return home. The memory loss doesn't help.

Clover the Clever, Student of Starswirl the Bearded, scholar of magic, bearer of the Flames of Friendship, and hero of the fledgling nation of Equestria has just finished his latest quest to apprehend and stop a master criminal and insidious sorceress. Now he must contend with a task that is often more difficult than it appears: returning to the life he left when he went on his journey.

The chronic and rampant memory loss the witch left him with is not going to help.

Written for MagnetBolt as part of the annual Jinglemas Secret Santa Swap!

Prepread by the lovely Wanderer D and Cynewulf. Any typos and errors left are my own. Those two are good, but not miracle workers.

Published 2019-12-23 00:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-12-23 00:50:01 UTC

Stepping In the Same River Twice

There was a flash of light, and with a wail and flailing of hooves, a tawny furred and orange maned unicorn came tumbling out of what appeared to be a solid wall and collapsed in a heap of limbs and well worn cloak on the floor.

With a sigh and a grunt of pain, one Clover the Clever, Flamebearer, and student of Starswirl the Bearded, hauled himself off of the cave floor.

“Well,” he said in a huff, “at least that’s done with,” and shook his head.

He glanced up at the wall he’d just fallen from which, hidden from the naked eye, contained a portal to a strange other world populated by furless, maned bipeds and without a lick of magic to speak of. For a moment he wondered about the ethical quandaries of having left a dangerous artifact there alongside an admittedly amnesiac career criminal, but he had to admit - after having seen Starswirl do the same countless times, there was an odd satisfaction to it.

He turned his gaze towards the evening light coming from the mouth of the cave and sighed again, a mixture of exhaustion and relief in it. Now all that was left was the journey home.

The first problem was he didn’t exactly remember where home was.

The witch he had been chasing had possessed an artifact that allowed her to destroy memories of those around her - allowing her to perfectly cover her crimes. Aside from the last few weeks, all he had of the chase to catch her was a journal of notes to cover the holes in his memory the sorceress had left to hide her trail, and clever as he was, he hadn’t been entirely clear on where he was in an absolute sense.

Luckily, as night fell and the autumn chill came in earnest, he spotted a camp off in the woods to the side of the road. Hopeful that there would be a meal and some directions, he broke through the brush and spoke to the two ponies on guard.

“Hail!” he called.

The two look at him in shocked surprise and then sprung to their hooves.

“The Flamebearer!” they shouted, and Clover winced. He had never liked that title. It overstated his role in affairs and ponies treated him with an awe he didn’t feel he deserved. It ultimately just made him uncomfortable.

Admittedly, the spears that were suddenly at his throat were a new touch.

“Excuse me?” He winced, the point just digging into his throat.

Ponies began rushing from the camp to him.

They all had spears. Or swords. Or axes. All of which were aimed squarely at him. Clover also realized after a moment that even without their weapons they wouldn’t have looked particularly inviting.

“Well, well, well.” A mare’s voice said. “Look at what we have here.”

She strode from the wall of blades, an eyepatch and matching scar over one eye.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

They had?

“You thought you’d shaken us at that cave, but we knew we just had to be patient to find you.”

He had?

“You have a lot of nerve to show up here, now.”

Clover was beginning to suspect he did not remember the last few weeks as well as he had thought he had.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a little higher pitched than he would have liked, “but… who are you again?”

Her one eye flared in anger.

“You think this trick will work? You already tried it the last time we caught up with you!”

Clover was, if anything, even more dismayed to learn she was a repeat customer of his.

“After everything you’ve done to disrupt our operations even if you had somehow forgotten, nothing will satisfy us other than your hide!”

The entire camp of what Clover had educatedly guessed were bandits (or Tirek cultists - those were the worst) howled with what he was fairly certain was murderous glee.

There was a blade at his throat and all it would take was a slight forward lean to seal the deal if his horn so much as flickered. He was surrounded, on the backfoot, and out of options - but, he was not known as “the Clever” for nothing. So, he did the best thing he could think of.

He fell to his haunches, and begged, sobbing.

“Please, have mercy! I was a fool to challenge you or to think such a paltry trick would deceive you! Spare me!”

“Hah!” She then leaned to the side to spit. “That’s more like it, little mage, but your craven tears will get you no quarter.” She smiled. “I am curious though; how did you evade us? We followed you to that cave, but you never came out and it was empty when we finally went in.”

Clover looked up at her, sniveling.

“I-I could show you.”

“A portal?” She glared, skeptical, at the stone wall.

“Yes, to another world.” He said, deferent.

“I see no such thing.” She sneered.

“I need to activate it.” He said, quietly, flinching.

“Do you?” She sneered harder.

“I can show you! Please!”

She rolled her eyes. Or, well, eye.

“Very well. You’ve been amusing me with your sniveling. If this world is as interesting as you claim, I may keep you around for a while longer.”

“A-alright.” Clover closed his eyes, and his face strained as he prepared his magic.

There were three things these bandits, all earth ponies or pegasi, did not know. One, was that one really couldn’t tell what kind of magic a unicorn was doing just by looking at their horn—

The wall began to glow with his golden aura, and all the bandits turned to stare in wonder and naked greed.

—Another, while most Unicorns struggled with even basic telekinesis, Clover was very, very good at it—

Clover suddenly rocketed backwards, pushing himself flying away from the wall he nominally had in his telekinetic grip.

—And, finally, the portal was already open—

Clover smashed against the far wall with a grunt, far away from any spears. The bandits wheeled around, but before their leader could finish opening her mouth to order him killed, they found themselves lifting off the ground, and with a grunt that verged on a battle cry, Clover sent them all hurtling through the actual portal wedged somewhere in the corner of the rough wall and ceiling.

Now, of course, was the tricky part.

Clover scrambled to his hooves, and his horn began to glow, brighter and brighter. With another cry, he fired a beam of white light at the spot.

All he had to do was disjunct a permanent interdimensional nexus. Simple and safe, right?

The world filled with light and sound, and Clover blacked out.

He awoke in a pile of rubble, but blessedly alone.

His plan had been rather clever by his estimation, although the dizziness and blurred vision was now telling him it was, perhaps, unwise.

Still, he had dealt with the majority of bandits, and the rest he had bound in chains before they realized he was back in their camp. Furthermore, his initial impulse was, ultimately, vindicated.

The bandits had a map.

Clover crested the hill and let out a breath of relief. He had spent a week wandering along the wild road, trying to orient himself to the map which was poorly kept and covered in lines and marks. Still, he had eventually found his way and was now at his first real point of rest.

Before him was the township of Württemberg, a cozy little earth pony village and growing crossroads. It was nestled between a set of hills with a crystal clear stream cutting through the town, cascading down the granite that made up the settlement’s bedrock in a path of waterfalls. The locale was beautiful, the ponies were warm and inviting, and the food was good.

The settlement that had endeared itself to Clover, and whenever his travels allowed him to, he made an effort to pass through, and the sites, sounds, and smells he experienced as he made his way through the town square were a balm after spending weeks chasing the sorceress through the wilds.

“Halt, Flamebearer, you bastard!”

Which all came crashing to a halt as Clover heard the sound of rushing hooves and wings behind him.

Turning around and feeling every inch of his long journey as he did so, he was greeted by a unicorn with a mane the purple of late twilight and fur the color of the last moment of the setting sun, and a pegasus with fur the color of twilight and a mane the color of sunset rushing towards him. They honestly could have been sisters and they both seemed very, very angry to see him.

In what Clover was worried was going to be a running trend for the next foreseeable future, he did not recognize either of them.

“Um, Greetings, what is the problem?”

“Your cheating ass is the problem you… ass!” the pegasi said.

A donkey manning a pastry stall to the side grunted with offense.

“I, uh, see.” He glanced between the two of them. “I’m sorry, an evil witch cursed me, possibly dozens if not hundreds of times to lose my memory; who are you two?”

“I’m Evening Star!” The pegasi said, crossing her forehooves.

“I’m Starry Evening!” The unicorn said, lowering her head and glaring.

“Gosh, he really did think we’d believe the whole ‘evil witch cursed me to lose my memory,” trick.” Evening said, rolling her eyes.

“Right, just like he told us he had a ‘secret mission’ before ditching us!” Starry replied, sneering.

“That… I probably did say that because it’s true.” His reply only earned him a twinned and impressive death glare. He flinched and decided to try a different track. “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done, but could you perhaps, um, explain what that is?”

“You said you loved us!” The both shouted with contempt.

“You met each of us, wooing us with stories of your adventures!” Evening said.

“You swept each of us off our hooves, and then told us you had to leave, but to meet you at Württemberg because it was your favorite place in Equestria!” Starry said, adding a sneer on her emphasis.

Clover had been worried that would be the case. He was also now worried that he both had a very specific type and was a dreadfully predictable date.

“I can’t believe the Hero of Equestria is a philander!” Evening moaned, looking to the sky.

“I can’t believe we fell for it.” Starry muttered, giving the dirt a murderous look.

Clover was admittedly, at a loss. He had through no fault of his own caused these two mares real grief. He also had no clear means to make amends. Trying to repair these relationships were not on the table, even if he could remember who they were. Though, even though he had failed these two, he could perhaps salvage something from this situation.

“Gentlemares,” he said, taking a step forward, “while you may not believe me and while it may give you no comfort, I am sincere when I say a hex has robbed me of whatever experiences I had with the two of you.”

He was still facing two scowls, but went on.

“Even if my faith was compromised through circumstance rather than reprehensibility it was still foolish of me to offer you romantic companionship when I knew I was on a mission of this nature. My impulsiveness was not fair to either of you, and for that I am sorry.”

Evening rolled her eyes. Starry muttered something sarcastic under her breath.

“Consider this as consolation though; it is clear to me that you two have a bond. You work in utter tandem. While I may have lead you astray, you two have found each other, and while your companionship was born of tragedy I suspect that something sincere can grow from it.” He bowed his head. “Nurture your bond, and for my part I swear I shall never darken your door again.”

This was a stretch, but it was the honest best he could come up with on the spot. They clearly had a lot in common, and already cared deeply about each other. They could take something positive away from this, and continue the ever spreading network of friendships were blossoming across this new nation.

Clover looked up just in time for Starry to deck him.

Evening then spat on him.

“Take that and your flowery words.” Evening said.

“And you can take both those and your stupid magic fire and warm yourself in the woods!” Starry tacked on.

… or they could continue to be unreasonable and assault him. That worked too.

The two wheeled away, leaving Clover in the dirt. Thankfully, hooves from the crowd helped him up as the two went away. Clover was at least thankful that it ended with only a black eye and a fair dose of humiliation.

“You alright, son?” The older stallion who had lifted him up said with a look of pity and confusion.

“Yes, yes, I shall be fine.” He shook his head. “I just need to get to the inn and get… some… rest.”

He watched with a sinking heart as both Starry Evening and Evening Star walked straight into Württemberg’s sole inn.

He sighed.

“It was a pretty speech.” A mare next to the helpful stallion offered in consolation.

“I am sorry to ask after causing such a scene, do either of you have a spare room?” He looked up, exhausted but hopeful.

He was met with silence.

“A space in a barn loft?”

Guilty looks away.

“... a spare bale of hay?”

Clover was not in the best of moods.

Württemberg had been a disaster rather than a place of solace, and despite having a map, Clover was coming to the conclusion that he was hopelessly lost. He was trying to make his way to the earth pony harbor town on Manna-hata Island for more supplies before making his way back to Castle Everfree, but the roads were taking turns he did not expect, he was running low on supplies, and he was either three days overdue to arrive, or still two weeks away and the worthless map the bandits had wasn’t clear which it would be!

So it was with relief that he came across a small cabin along the road and saw an older earth pony chopping wood outside of it.

“Hail!” He waved a hoof and began walking towards the old stallion. “Hail, good sir! I need your help!”

“Huh?” The old stallion looked up and gave a crooked tooth smile. “Aye, laddie. I cannae help ye. What’cha need o’ole Trail Blazer?”

“I am afraid I am lost, good sir. Can you tell me the way to the Old Witch Road?”

“Which road?”

“Yes, Witch Road.”

“That’s what I’mma asking!”

“No, I’m asking. I need to know how to reach the Witch Road.”

“Laddie I canna tell you which road yer look’n fer. Tha’s on you.”

“No, Yew Village is on the First Road. I need to get to the Witch Road to get there.”

“First Road?”

“Yes. To get to Yew Village.”

“My village?”

“You’re from Yew Village?”

“I mean, ya, everypony is always from tha’r village, laddie! That’s what it means to be from yer village.”

“Great, how do I get there?”

The old Stallion smiled and shrugged.

“Can’t, I’mma ‘fraid! She was lost in tha exodus ‘cross tha sea!”

Clover slapped his forhead and gave out a cry.

“Fie!”

“Laddie, I’mma think’n I’m tha one who should be asking why at this point.”

“I need to get to the Old Witch Road. The Old Witch Road.”

“I canna tell ya’ which road you want! That’s on you!”

“No, Yew’s on First!”

Clover fell to his haunches and clutched his forehead, internally wailing that nothing had gone right since he’d stepped back out of that portal. The bandits, those two mares, and now he was going in circles with an old stallion, hopeless lost because of the worthless map he’d stolen from those bandits.

He then froze. That was the answer!

Clover scrambled and with a flare of his horn produced the map that had led him so far astray.

“Here.” He said, pointing to Württemberg. “I came from here. I need to go here.” He shifted his hoof to the marker for Yew Village. “So I can go here.” His hoof came to rest over Manna-hatta Island. “Can you tell me the way?”

The old stallion’s eyes lit up with recognition, then understanding, then pity.

“Is no wonder ya dun know which road ye want, laddie. This map is rubbish.”

“I know! The bandits I stole it from scribbled all over it.”

“Nah, laddie, tha ain’t be it. They was try’n ta’ fix it!”

Clover faltered.

“What do you mean?”

“Tha’ map be worthless. All tha’ roads been changed!”

Clover had an unpleasant suspicion he knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.

“When?”

“Oh. ‘Bout a year ago, I figger or so!”

Clover deflated.

“‘Sprised you dinna know! Was tha’ project of ole’ Hurricane - reworking tha’ roads afta’ tha Daemon Prince Tirek had his way wit’ all o’ us a few years back.”

Clover lost all the tension in his body and slumped, staring at the dirt.

“I was cursed by a witch to lose my memories. Over and over again.”

The stallion paused is surprise, not quite sure what to say at first.

“Oh… is tha’ so?”

“I was nearly killed by bandits who I had no memory of crossing, and was cheated out of rest at Württemberg by a pair of mares I had separately made advances on under the effect of amnesia.”

“Ooch, laddie.” The old stallion glanced down at Clover’s side and squinted. His eyes then went with shock. “Tha’ cutie mark! Yer tha Flamerbearer!”

Clover collapsed backwards, propping himself up with his forehooves as he stared at the sky.

“Yep. Clover the Clever, Lost, Amnesiac, Flamebearer.”

“Ooh, laddie. Yer wasn’t kidd’n bout tha witch, were ya?”

“Nope.”

“Listen. I got ma’ ma’s carrot stew brew’n back in tha cabin. How ‘bout we go inside and I’ll get ya’ fed and get ya’ a propa’ map.”

Clover closed his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“S’na problem.” He shook his head and offered a hoof to get Clover back on his hooves. A haunted and somewhat awed look crossed his face. “I was in tha cave, ya know. When it happened. Tha whole lot o’ us, huddled in there, last o’ the tribes, hugging an’ make’n freinds while tha daemons howled around us, ‘fraid we wasn’t gunna see tha sun again.”

Clover closed his eyes. It was a memory with a decidedly complex mix of emotions attached.

“I just wanna say: thank ya’.”

“I just did what I could.”

The old stallion grinned.

“Hah! They shoul’da called ya ‘tha Humble!’”

Clover gave a pained smile.

“Well, I try.”

The old stallion shook his head.

“Funnay thing, tho’. I always heard ya’ was a mare!”

Clover closed his eyes in a pained wince, and then started laughing. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. The old stallion wasn’t sure how to react, but he was at the very least patient, and, once Clover had apologized, ushered him into the cabin. The two broke bread and the next morning, some hope back in his heart, Clover was on his way with a full bag and a proper map.

The rest of the journey back to Everfree was thankfully blissful for Clover. Trail Blazer’s updated map was a great boon and his journey to Manna-hatta and then with a trade caravan towards Capital was free of any more memory related mishaps - aside from a wrong turn due to a new road having been opened up on the island.

It was a night out from Castle Everfree, and thus the last night he would be on this quest, and he found himself feeling exhausted, content, and somewhat wistful. Tomorrow he would report to Queen Platinum about his mission, and then check in on his mentor Starswirl. From there he would hopefully settle in for a bit and work on some of the old projects he had left until, inevitably, he was called away on some new task by his Queen or his mentor.

All this crossed his mind as he stood on the hill, seeing the light of the castle that had been his home since the Unification in the distance as the first snows of winter fell. One last night, and he would return to the world he had left since he had started chasing the trail of that cursed sorceress, and everything could return to normal.

Nothing was normal.

It had started with him being told by a guardspony that Starswirl was gone. He had good naturedly quipped that the old mage must be off on a quest - only to learn Starswirl had vanished months ago. So had the rest of his companions in the Pillars of Equestria. When he asked to be taken to Queen Platinum he was surprised to be lead to a manor in the city around the castle and shocked when Platinum informed that she was no longer a Queen in anything but name.

Now he stood before Starswirl’s two proteges - the winged unicorns, Celestia, an arrogant brat when he had last met her, and Luna, a timid, insecure child, who had, against all reason, been given unilateral stewardship of Equestria.

“Cel-Princess Celestia. Princess Luna. Please. I come before you today, completely lost. Where is my mentor Starswirl? What has happened in my absence?”

“Starswirl is, as far as we know, still out on a quest. You know as well as We how he can be with wandering off.”

“I’ve been told he’s been gone for a year! The Pillars have vanished with him, and none of them have responded to attempts at contact, magical or otherwise! He is a secretive and paranoid old stallion, but something must be amiss, and Equestria could be in peril without him. Surely he told someone. What of Stygian? The colt was glued to his hip.”

Celestia’s face tightened.

“Stygian was banished and declared an outlaw.” She said.

“What? Why?!”

“He practiced dark magic to undermine the security of the nation.” Luna said, softly, sunken back into her throne.

“Who would dare accuse steadfast Stygian of such a thing?”

Celestia’s face tightened more. Something like anger shone from her eyes behind the mask that was her face.

“Your mentor, Starswirl the Bearded.”

The world fell out from under Clover.

“No.”

“It was so.” Celestia said, a hint of exhaustion creeping into her voice. “We have no further details on this inquiry. Do you have anything else to ask of the court, Flamebearer?”

Clover shook his head slowly.

“Why… why was I not informed of the coronation? A spell of contact should not have been beyond the power of the crown.”

At this Celestia’s expression turned to genuine shock. So did Luna’s.

“Sir Flamebearer,” Luna said, hesitantly, “you were at the coronation.”

Clover’s eyes shrunk to prinpicks.

“That can’t be right.” He said, shaking his head. “I’ve been gone for a year.”

“The coronation was over a year and a half ago.” Luna said, her voice soft and afraid. She was looking at him, wide eyed. Like he was mad.

“That-that can’t be right!” Clover’s saddle bags exploded as page after page of his own notes frantically whirled around him. Where had he made a mistake? Where had he lost track of his own time?

“Master Flamebearer,” Celestia said, her voice and jaw tense. “We ask that you restrain yourself.”

“The witch!” He hissed. He looked up. “Forgive me your majesties, the witch I was sent to capture stole my memories! I speak the truth when I say I do not remember the coronation.”

Celestia’s face softened.

“We see. We feel regret at the cost your service to Our Crown has incurred.”

“Please, your majesties, think nothing of it!” His notes haphazardly slammed themselves back into his bag. “Please, grant me a boon; I wish nothing but to continue to serve. Let me track down Starswirl, and the outlaw Stygian. I will sort this matter out!”

A look passed between the two Princesses, shock from Celestia, and concern from Luna. Celestia looked back first.

“While We are honored by your altruism, it is the opinion of the Crown that your services are best retained here.” Her look softened for a fraction of a moment. “You are clearly in distress, and need rest after your harrowing journey. Starswirl will fend for himself, and Stygian has earned whatever hoof fate deals him now.”

“Your majesty, please!”

Celestia’s face hardened just as quickly as it had softened.

“We have spoken.”

“Sister.” Luna admonished, softly, concern bare in her eyes. For just a moment Celestia shot an naked look of fury at her sister. It was then that Clover, eternally clever as he was, understood several things.

Celestia was not as confident about Starswirl’s disappearance as she let on. She was, in fact, terrified that less than a year into her reign the guardians of Equestria had vanished without a trace. She also knew this fear could be infectious, and in her inexperience the only recourse she knew to keep the peace was to be stoic and put on a brave face. A bravery Clover was undermining with his histrionics, and a stoicism that now appeared callous to the court as he clearly panicked before her unflinching gaze. This callousness was now also plain for all to see thanks to Luna undermining her sister with a single word and an earnest glance.

If Clover tried to press the advantage of Luna’s sympathy, Celestia would try to regain control the only way she knew how; by cowing him before all the court and no doubt venting her anger at Princess Luna in private, widening the rift he sensed was between them. So Clover, clever as his name implied, and forever loyal to the nation he helped create, did the only thing he could think of to resolve the situation.

“Apologies, Your Majesties.” He bowed. “You are right. The stress of losing my memories has gotten to me, and I need rest before I do anything strenuous. I apologize for speaking out of turn in my concern. I will heed your wisdom.”

He looked up from the bow. Celestia was relieved. Luna looked heartbroken.

“We accept your apology. You have caused us no concern save for your own health, Flamebearer.” Celestia lied.

Clover nodded, and gave a forced grateful smile, helping her sell it.

“If it pleases the Crown, may I take my leave?”

“If that is all you wished to discuss before us, then you have Our leave.”

“Thank you, your majesties.”

So, Clover turned and left the court, broken and defeated.

Hearth’s Warming, the holiday to celebrate the victory of Clover and his companions, raged through the streets while he sat alone in more ways than one at a bar, nursing a glass of cognac.

The irony was not lost upon him.

The sullen silence and irony was interrupted though when a mare slid into the spot at the bar next to him.

“Hey, stranger.” She grinned. “You look down.”

“Forgive me, I am down.” Clover replied, not bothering to look up from his spirit.

“Well, that’s a shame. It’s Hearth’s Warming! No one should be down and alone tonight; the whole holiday is about friendship!”

“Believe me,” he emphasized the comma with a gulp of cognac, “I know.” He finally looked up and was stopped short.

She was an earth pony. Her mane was a mix of lavender and dark blues, her coat was a rose gold, and her eyes were tawny.

“I’m sorry, but if I may ask… what is your name?”

“Dusk Stratus!” She grinned. Clover’s face tightened and she cocked her head. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, you just remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Aw, sorry to bring up bad memories.”

Clover shook his head.

“It is not your fault. Please, forgive me.”

“Aw, it’s alright.” She grinned and leaned in. “But seriously, what’s got you so glum, chum?”

Clover looked away.

“You wouldn’t want to hear it. It’s… an ugly tale.”

Dusk frowned, a look of genuine concern spreading across her face.

“That may be so, but I knew that going in.” She reached out and gently shoved his shoulder. “Go on. Like said; no one should be alone tonight, and sometimes ugly stories need to be told.”

Clover wanted to hold back. He didn’t want to burden this kind mare with his woes, and he doubted she would believe him. He looked into her eyes and saw a warmth there and something in him broke.

So he told her everything. Started with his earliest memory that something was amiss down to humiliating himself in the court of the Two Sisters. He kept talking on and on. Dusk laughed at his foibles, and laughed harder as he outwitted his foes. She coed and made sounds of sympathy at his struggles, and went wide eyed at his bravery. So the night dragged on long before he finished.

“So… that’s it.” He said, spent. “I took a mission for my liege only to return to find myself cast outside of time, my mentor and liege gone, and the world I knew turned upside down.”

“Wow.” She leaned back. “That was a lot.”

“Yes, you could say that.” He gave a sad smile.

“Now I’m gonna have to get you two drinks.”

“Why two?” He gave a wan smile.

“Well, the second is because I can’t pass up meeting the Sun Blessed Flamebearer without buying him a drink!”

Clover winced.

“Please, don’t!”

“Why’s that?”

“I hate that. I hate ponies calling me that. I hate being put on a pedestal for doing the right thing.” He looked away and went on, quietly. “I hate being reminded of the most terrifying night of my life.”

Dusk blinked and leaned back.

“Alright, Clover, I’ll just get you two for the original reason.”

“Which was?” He asked, wary.

“Because you looked like you needed a friend!”

Clover was struck dumb, and then gave a small, quiet laugh. It sounded uncomfortably close to a sob.

“Um… thank you.” He said, a small smile on his face.

“It’s not a problem. Like I said, nobody should be alone tonight; plus, wasn’t it you talking about putting ponies on pedestals?”

“Ah,” his grin grew easier. “You have me there.”

“Guess they’re gonna have to call me Dusk the Clever, now!”

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves.”

Dusk laughed.

“Alright, alright.” She passed him a drink. “Here you go!”

He smiled and took a drink. It was rich dark ale. It was not his favored drink, but right now, it was the best he had ever had.

“Still though, I think I needed that. You have helped me, even only in this moment.”

Dusk’s smile softened.

“Yeah. Look, Clover, you have a lot on your plate. Being a hero ain’t easy, and it sounds fiercely lonely. I honestly don’t even know how to begin to suggest what you should do, but for right now,” she raised her mug, “it’s Hearth’s Warming, and you’re home, and you’ve got a friend here with you. So,” her smile brightened, “just go with it. Take a load off. That’s all tomorrow’s problem.”

Clover pondered that, and gave a smirk and clanked her mug with his.

“Perhaps we should call you Dusk the Wise.”

“Oh, come on now, I’m just speaking sense.”

“Wisdom is often just plain good sense - hence its rarity.”

Dusk laughed at that. Clover’s smile became more warm as she finished.

“I have to ask, though,” she got a wry grin of her own, “was the reason you got so spooked is I reminded you of those two mares?”

Clover’s eyes suddenly tried to find anything else but Dusk to look at while his lips pressed together in an awkward scribble.

“No, of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Similar coloration.” She leaned forward, her grin becoming positively predatory. “Similar name.”

Clover looked away, but grinned.

“I will say this much, if I ever asked you to meet me in Württemberg; say no.”

Dusk laughed again and took a hearty drink.

“Although, I think we’ve talked about me enough.” Clover leaned forward. “What do you do, Dusk?”

“Like my job?”

“Job, hobbies, I’m curious.”

“Aww, shucks, well…”

So the last trial of Clover the Clever came to an end, sitting in a lonely bar on Hearth’s Warming Eve, swapping tales with a new friend.