While summer cicadas filled the late-afternoon air with trilling white noise, Fluttershy sipped watered-down fruit cordial on ice through a straw, and looked out at the rolling hills on the outskirts of Ponyville. Even diluted and cold, the golden-orange drink was sticky-sweet; a stray wasp hovered nearby, patiently waiting for a fallen droplet to purloin.
Fluttershy set the sweating glass down on a white-painted wrought-iron table, and shifted in her matching chair to face the Draconequus across the table from her.
“Always just one,” she mused.
“Hmm…?” Discord’s coils flexed. He sat like a serpent, making a chair of himself. “Just one glass? I know it’s a little sweet for you, so I made sure to put in plenty of-”
Fluttershy shook her head. “Just one wasp.”
“That’s not so bad, is it?” Discord replied, squinting down at the striped insect floating on the warm breeze. “Better than a whole swarm, that’s no fun at all! You’ve dealt with that before …”
She nodded. “More than once.”
Discord heaved a sigh. He glanced to and fro, and the motion of his eyes made his whole horned-and-antlered head sway. “It’s not like anyone else was using them.” He folded his mismatched arms. “There’s no harm in it. Quite the opposite, if you think about it. Most folks would be grateful to have another go!”
The ice cubes clinked as Fluttershy took another sip before replying. “They’re starting to notice, in town. Grocer Greengrass asked if I’m opening a bakery, because I bought the same fruit three days in a row.”
“Roll the dice enough, and sometimes you hit a run. Nothing more than that.” He offered an encouraging smile. “There’s no harm,” he repeated. He looked away, at the hills. “I’m being nice. You taught me that yourself!”
Fluttershy let the straw drop from her mouth and slide back down into the cordial. She licked her lips. “Princess Twilight asked about you this morning. At the service for Pinkie.”
“Ah, that fussy bookworm!” Discord wiggled a scaly finger. “Worried I would make trouble, I’m sure. That’s why I didn’t go, you know that, right? I’m no good at stuffy affairs. It would have been like that gala. I’d have been no help to anyone at the service.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Fluttershy said with a shrug. “Maybe you can try showing up anyway. Next time.”
Discord’s eyes turned to the horizon again. “How long have you known?”
The Pegasus’s sharp, short laugh echoed in the sun-soaked air. “How can I even answer that? Hmm?”
“Fair enough!” Discord offered an impish little chuckle in return.
Fluttershy watched the wasp find the courage to land on the rim of her glass. “Is it?”
“You don’t have to get this way.” Discord straightened until his long body and neck cast a shadow over Fluttershy. “They were good before. All of them. I made sure. Why aren’t they good now?”
The ice cubes settled in the glass. The wasp took off again.
“... We were all so surprised. She had more life in her than any of us. We never thought she’d be the first. It felt like the sun went out.” A long flight feather brushed the condensation off the side of the glass. Fluttershy drew back her wing and watched the drop dangle and then fall. “Rainbow and Applejack, Rarity and Twilight … we all came. And her whole family was there, too. She had four great-grandfoals. Four.”
Discord frowned. “Exactly my point! Not many times when you all get together, these days. What a treat!”
“You still don’t know.” Fluttershy lowered her head. Her well-brushed, flower-accented mane shaded her face. “All this time, and you still don’t see the difference. You just mix them around, like fruit salad. Did you seriously think that I’d want to do it over and over? Watch those little foals sobbing? You want me to thank you? For that?” Her face reddened and her wings shook, but no tears came.
“It was a mistake. I … I can take it out. Like sour cherries! You don’t like those, either! Once we get the right blend, this will all be-”
Fluttershy bent to one side until her cheek rested on the tabletop next to her glass. “You didn’t learn anything from it. It happened twice, and you still didn’t learn.”
“From what?”
“Being turned to stone.”
Discord uncoiled like a falling chain leaping from its container. He scooped her up in his arms and took to the air. “Oh, come on, now! It’s nothing like that! You’re free! Just say the word, pick the day, and you can have it!“ He whirled around and swooped in a wide circle above the meadow. “You can do anything you want!”
She hung limp in his grasp, like a doll. “Not anything.”
A cherry-red flush heated Discord’s features. “Make up your mind!” He let her drop, and she slowed her fall with her wings. He folded his arms and huffed. “You see? Right there! If you wanted a day like Pinkie’s so bad, you wouldn’t have done that!”
Fluttershy landed in the lush grass without a sound. She rolled onto her back and stared up at his sun-backed silhouette. “I’m not that brave.”
“I know! I know that!” Discord came down in a wide ring around her and peered down into her eyes. “Isn’t this how friends act? I know you’re afraid, so I’m helping you!”
“You’re not helping me because I’m afraid. You’re helping me because you are.”
Discord reflexively shrank tighter around her, until his hide touched the top of her head and the ends of her hind hooves. “This is all I can do. You know I can’t make things … tidier. I can’t make something that works the way it’s meant to. All I can do is add some spice to the world. Mix things up. I did my best! It could have been so much worse, couldn’t it? Remember when I tried to fix that one-eyed kitten you adopted after Angel? THAT was a bad call, I admit it. You were so upset! Remember?” He squeezed tighter, and his body pushed under her until she sat draped on top of him.
“I’d almost forgotten,” she said softly. “I’ll pay more attention next time.”
He brushed a lock off her face with his lion-paw with anxious care. Like he was handling thin glassware. “There’s no going back from it. I can’t bring order. I can’t undo it, if you change your mind. What then?”
“I don’t know. We’re not SUPPOSED to know. That’s the point.” She looked away. “I thought you liked surprises.”
Discord rippled beneath her. “You’re being really selfish about this. What about me? You need to take responsibility. You taught me about friendship. You can’t just skip out on me now! It’s … rude!”
She turned onto her side on top of him. “So why don’t you mix me up, if this is such a nuisance? Like you did in the maze? Barely took you any effort at all.”
“You KNOW why! It doesn’t work like that! I can’t reduce chaos! I can’t-”
“You can’t make me happy.”
He rippled again, and squeezed his eyes and fists and jaws closed so tightly they creaked. “Please.” He forced the word out between his jagged teeth. “Please, please, please…”
“It’s hot out today. I feel like a nap. Carry me home?” She offered a small, thin smile. “We’ll talk about this some more tomorrow.”
Discord picked her up more gently this time, cradling her like a baby bird. “All right. Tomorrow.”
On the table, the wasp slowly sank down into the cordial. Its legs stirred, and quivered, and were still.
THE END
