Dreamwalker's Tale

The midnight blue sky slowly became brighter again. Dawn drew closer. I felt a tingle under my skin, as if magic was used nearby. But I could not see anypony in the vicinity once again. I shrugged it off and called for Owlicious and White Tip. They landed on my back a moment later. “We’re returning home, guys. I hope you had fun. Come to think of it, you could fly ahead. I believe the window was slightly ajar.” I watched them fly off towards the castle, giving chase once more. They would be sleeping like logs.

“Have you been here the entire night?” an amused voice asked me from somewhere behind me.

I recognized her immediately. I turned around to greet Sunny and smiled. “You’re an early riser, huh?”

Her tone became a little reprimanding. “You should know better. Staying up all night is not good for you. Ponies need their sleep.” She had not answered me.

I laughed quietly. “Yes, mom. I know, mom.” She looked almost offended, so I shook my head. “Sorry. It’s just that… right now, I don’t appear to have much of a choice in the matter. It’s not like I didn’t try.”

“Oh?” she just asked and obviously waited for me to tell her more about this.

I had other plans though. “So. You’re already up, hm? Out for a morning walk?”

She once more hid behind her practiced smile and nodded. “Something like that. I love this moment of the day. Dawn is my favorite.” She walked up to my side and we watched the sunrise together. It was magnificent. “You were about to head off? Back home, I presume?” she asked as the sun had successfully climbed up over the horizon.

I gave it some thought. Owlicious and White Tip were fine. And it was still quite early. Why not actually go for a walk then? Especially with such good company. “You know… I thought I knew this town like the back of my hoof. But as it turns out, some things aren’t quite as I remember them.”

She smiled as she picked up on my subtle hint. “Well, maybe I can show you around, then?”

“That would be great,” I agreed and we started to walk down the street towards the town center.

“When have you been here the last time?” she asked as we passed the first building.

I once again ran into that wall of not wanting to lie to her face. “You won’t believe me,” I stated flatly.

Her practiced smile turned playful for a brief moment. “Try me.”

Well. She asked for it. “Alright. Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. So, this week-long tale starts not at the beginning, but right in the middle. I wake up at the edge of the Everfree Forest, barely knowing who I am, or where, or what, and I immediately puke my very soul up because I see everything in doubles and triplicates and I’m utterly overwhelmed by my own senses. Then out of nowhere, a wild Twilight appears and I kiss her. Because let’s be honest, it’s Twilight, who wouldn’t, right? But I did that because I remembered her. It’s just that this Twilight isn’t my Twilight, the one I remember. So, awkwardness ensues. I more or less beg for her help and she somehow doesn’t kick my teeth in, but instead adopts me as her newest pet project. Because there’s this slight chance that she’ll be able to study dream magic if she helps me.” I looked down at the silvery bands around my hooves. "We're actually doing pretty well on that front."

I was in high spirits. Sunny quietly giggled. She tried to hide it, but she did not try very hard. And since I was in good spirits and had no qualms about a bit of good-natured self-deprecating humor, I did actually end up telling her almost everything. Even the juicy bits. I did try to be vague about the very personal stuff concerning Pinkie and Fluttershy, but she apparently was fine with that.

She was incredulous at times. Amused at others. But she did not interrupt me, not even once. We were walking along Ponyville streets, giving out the occasional ‘good morning’ to the other early birds, but apart from that we paid little attention to our surroundings. “That is one very adventurous story,” she finally concluded, neither implying that she believed me, nor stating her obvious skepticism of my retelling. It was a very diplomatic answer, all things considered.

It irked me a little. I would have let it slide usually, but in this instance, it just rubbed me the wrong way. “Are you always this evasive?” I asked bluntly.

That actually made her laugh. It was honest. And once more clear as a bell. “I am sorry, I meant no offense. It is a habit of mine, I fear.” The smile that was left behind in the wake of her laughter seemed more honest and warm as well.

“Alright, fine. I can’t stay mad at such a beautiful smile. So, you heard my entire life’s story. All the tragedy and unexpected twists and hidden plot reveals… how about you? See, I remember Ponyville quite well. I know a lot of its inhabitants, their names, their homes, some of course better than others. And I can’t help but notice that for the past half hour or so, I have been leading you around town. Makes sense, of course — you being here to visit somepony, right? Who are you visiting? Maybe I can come over sometime. What are you doing all day?”

She raised an eyebrow at my forwardness and looked me over. She eventually sighed. “After being so forthcoming with your own story, I suppose it is only fair to answer at least some of your questions. I am in the civil service, so to speak. A true-bred bureaucrat.” As she was calling herself by that title, she once more laughed. It was a quiet sound, tinged with mild bitterness. I didn’t like it very much. “Oh don’t look like that. Admittedly, I do not enjoy it either, but it must be done.”

Thinking about it, I shrugged. “Why not change profession then? You’re not nailed in place, you know. Switch it up. Do something you actually like.”

Her demure smile widened into a playful grin. “Oh but I am doing that. Right now, in fact. I should be at work, playing the busy bee. I have instead taken some time off. I have been meaning to make that a new habit for some time now. Wandering around a little, relaxing, refueling, and enjoying the sun.”

I could understand that. That sense of duty, and the longing for a proper balance. Being a craftsman or artist was different. Raw materials were used to create something else. Something useful, hopefully. But working as a bureaucrat — it just never ended. The same forms for the same problems and the same applications with the same law-supported hurdles. Day in, day out. With paperwork, it rarely felt like something actually got done.

“You know, I get that. Feeling responsible. Feeling like only you can do this, or only you can do it properly. That’s an illusion though. You just don’t know those other ponies that could do it in your stead. Who are maybe even able to do it better. But even if you are right — still doesn’t mean you have to do this. Others might struggle trying to take up what you put down. But they’ll adapt. They’ll learn. And how are they supposed to grow into such a role without practice? And everypony struggles in the beginning, don’t we? We can learn from examples, sure, but the truth is… most ponies learn best from mistakes. And most mistakes don’t spell the end of the world. Especially in bureaucracy.”

“You clearly have not heard nobles talk,” she mumbled and lowered her head.

I suspected that she had not expected me to hear that. And I did not comment on her remark. I instead turned to the left and led her to Sugarcube Corner. “I can’t take that weight off your shoulders, I know that. Buuut… maybe I can do the next best thing.”

She looked up in confusion. I nudged her a little until she looked over to the building and a smile spread on her lips as we pushed inside. She recognized the building.

A familiar pink blur zipped about and it took less than half a second for said blur to stop right in front of us. “Sergeant Pinks,” I addressed Pinkie who, in a hilarious yet not entirely unexpected reaction, stood at attention and wordlessly raised her right hoof to her forehead in a salute. “Desperate situations require desperate measures,” I continued to Sunny’s endless bemusement. “Deploy emergency cupcakes immediately! I fear that we won’t be able to rescue recruit Sunny’s smile otherwise.”

Gasping just a little and with a grim and serious expression, she saluted again. “Sir! Yes, sir!” She zipped past the counter, into the kitchen and right back out again, presenting a single cupcake and smiling like there would be no tomorrow. “It’s on the house,” she whispered sideways in my direction.

Right. No bits. Although I furrowed my brow thinking about it, my attention was drawn to Sunny and her reaction. Considering Sugarcube Corner was not empty and all the other patrons as well as Mister Cake behind the counter were staring at us, we had put her on the spot juuust a little.

Sunny giggled without any sign of discomfort or embarrassment, like a good little trooper. One used to this kind of attention. Still, it took her a second or two to realize what was expected of her. “Oh, right,” she mumbled and then saluted as well. “Thank you, Sergeant Pinks.” She carefully took the cupcake with a wing and sat down on her haunches, gazing at the sweet treat. After a moment of apprehension on our part, she took a bite out of it. Her eyelids immediately fluttered shut and she sighed deeply in satisfaction. A genuine smile spread across her muzzle mere moments after that.

I was satisfied as well at this point. “Sergeant Pinks — it appears the emergency has passed. Your efforts for land and crown are appreciated and will not go unnoticed.” I saluted her, she saluted me and I tried my hardest not to break character by laughing. “Carry on.” And back into the kitchen she zipped.

I looked around at the other ponies. To my incredible relief, none of them looked disturbed. To be honest, they did not even look confused. Most of them just smiled or held a hoof up to their mouth to contain their own mirth. Even Mister Cake who was still standing behind the counter was just smiling. With that genuine warmth only an exhausted young father could muster. When I looked over to him and he nodded, silently thanking me. Probably not for the little show, I suspected. Pinkie was buzzing with joy. And the Cakes cared for her like a surrogate daughter.

I replied in kind and seeing as nothing remained from that cupcake in Sunny’s hooves, we exited the store again. The sun's warmth felt great on my skin. And apparently gave me an excess of energy. “Whoever’s last at the castle is a crazy old coot!” And off I went running. Because that had worked out in my favor last time, right?

I heard her laughing behind me and she gasped indignantly at my insolence. “You’re cheating!” she yelled after me.

Good point! “No teleporting!” I yelled back instead of making any excuses or any sense. I probably should have denied her the use of her wings, being a pegasus and all that. But I was breathing hard at the moment and still chuckled while running and only remembered Twilight's endlessly smug face.

Looking back, I noticed that she was gaining on me fast. And after a very short while, we were running side by side. I was certain that she could have outrun me if she wanted. But she did not. When we came close to the castle, a short flash made me falter for a step or two.

It was the running of the leaves, I mean… who doesn’t want to win that? So I just bumped her with my flank. Just a little swerve, so she would be off-balance.

Rainbow had sounded so endlessly embarrassed. And I could hear Applejack trying to stifle her laughter. Without thinking twice — or even once, for that matter — I bumped my flank into Sunny’s. The difference was that we were not athletes. We were not running at breakneck speed and I was severely underestimating her. She looked outraged for about half a second. Then a very wicked grin spread on her muzzle and I swallowed hard. Uh oh.

She spread her pristine white wings and I tried to duck out of the way. Another failure. We tumbled to the side onto a patch of grass in a tangled mess of limbs. I had to give her credit though: She was careful. More so than I had been. We could have easily sprained something with that tumble, or worse. But she had closed her wings around us like it was a mantle of steel. How? I did not care once we came to a rest. I was on top of her with her splayed out beneath. “Ha!” I yelled, tasting sweet victory until I felt her hindlegs on my belly. Oh no.

I braced myself for a short flight as she kicked me off. Knowing what was to come helped me, as I landed and immediately rolled to the side. She had an intimidating amount of agility and was surprisingly strong for her frame, but how surprising was that really when a pegasus was concerned? She landed in the wrong spot as I had rolled away and now pulled her legs from under her. A subdued shriek of surprise and she landed on her side. This was my chance!

I was over her in an instant and… failed to find any ticklish spot.

My attempts came to a screeching halt as I realized their futility and I slowly looked up to her, dreading what I was about to behold in her eyes. A playful, wicked twinkle, matching her grin. Oh boy.

She reversed our roles without much effort and I, on the other hoof, was very ticklish. Basically everywhere.

Maybe it was a good thing that I had waited until we had at least reached the outer edge of town. Less ponies wandering about. None of them minded much, of course. They were amused. But I could not control any longer how loud I was. And I was screaming laughter at the top of my lungs until they gave up.

When I started to see stars, I went for the emergency solution. My magic snaked around her barrel and lifted her off of me and I held her up in mid-air. It worked for more than a couple of seconds, much to my surprise. Because she did not struggle against it. I was lying there breathing hard and tried to recompose myself. I finally looked up at her. She looked rather smug and therefore reminded me a lot of Twilight. “You would not have won any other way,” she told me. And I was in no position to disagree with that. But I couldn't help but smile — because in a way, she had just said that I had won.

I stood up and regarded her. And I felt a little bit emboldened. She was hanging there patiently waiting. Little tendrils of my magic snaked away from the soft glow she was captured in, pressing and prodding here and there along her body. The alien sensation surprised her, but she quickly understood my intention and grinned again. “You will not find any,” she claimed.

“Because even if, by chance, I’d find a spot, you wouldn’t let me know,” I guessed.

“That is cor—,“ she started, only for me to find a spot by chance, just as I had said. She was surprised enough that she let half a laugh out before she could stifle it. I made a mental note that her ears, of all things, seemed to be very sensitive. Good to know. “You better forget about that,” she warned me. Judging by her smile, she knew full well that there was no way in Tartarus for that to happen. “And what, pray tell, are you doing to me anyway?”

“Preemptive recon, ma’am!” I grinned and used one of the tendrils to slowly stroke down her back. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment and her smile widened. So that felt nice, huh? I was about to end my investigation and used just a little bit of pressure on her cutie mark. I was immediately surprised by her quiet moan. As was she, apparently. Hearing that kind of sound from her, I utterly lost my concentration and the telekinesis failed. I knew that she would not be able to get her wings out fast enough at this height. So I jumped.

My idea had been to catch her. Somehow.

I instead ended up being the pillow she landed upon. “Ow,” I groaned.

“Deserved,” she muttered and stood up again. She helped me up as well just a moment later. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, really, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Are you okay?”

“I am… fine, yes.”

There was a moment of intense awkwardness where we were standing around and avoided each other’s gazes. Until I realized that we were literally standing a dozen or so feet away from the castle. “Castle! Right. So. Here we are. At the… castle. That I had mentioned. Previously. Right.” I sighed and tried again. “Why am I always like this…? Okay, let’s start over. This is where I live right now. Do you want to come in?” There was no astonishment, no admiration in her gaze as she regarded the massive crystalline structure. Just her practiced smile and recognition. She raised an eyebrow at my invitation. “Ehrm… I’d like to say sorry. Maybe with some tea and ice cream.”

“A cupcake first, and now ice cream? You are spoiling me,” she joked.

“Nah. That was an emergency. Come to think of it, this one is as well.”

Her gaze drifted back to the castle and she nodded. “I would like that.” Her more playful smile returned quickly. “After you. Just so you will not stare at my flank.”

“I just— I wouldn’t— I mean I— you know, if I walk in front of you, you would just stare at my flank!” I tried to counter while blushing furiously.

“I am a proper and decent mare, I’ll have you know!” she retorted. That had almost sounded like Rarity.

“Ugh. Fine.” I trotted past her without waiting. I looked back at the halfway mark and could have sworn that it was suspicious how fast her eyes flitted up to look at those nice, fluffy clouds. Maybe I had given her an idea.

I bowed again when I opened the door for her. She just shook her head and entered with a smile. A couple of minutes later we settled down in the living room. The castle was surprisingly silent. I had called for Twilight and Spike, but neither had answered and I found Owlicious and White Tip sleeping on a perch near the window. So I went to the kitchen and made a pot of chamomile tea and prepared two servings of strawberry ice cream. The choice had been easy enough: Trust in what you have seen. If it was not something special, Pinkie tended to color-code her sweets. The cupcake Sunny had enjoyed so much had white frosting. As far as I remembered, that was strawberry. And I had no idea why those were white. Pinkie logic, I assumed.

I returned with my offerings to appease my guest and she looked surprised for a moment when she noticed the scent of the tea. After a few spoonfuls of ice cream, she sighed happily.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

She nodded and her expression turned more reminiscent. “It just… it has been a while.” I just looked at her and patiently waited for an explanation, which she graciously delivered soon after. “The last time I had such a nice day on, well, such a nice day.”

I looked out the window and smiled to myself. “Yeah, Tia’s been hard at work today.” She looked surprised and I could guess why. “It’s not a lack of respect,” I explained quickly. “But I mean, just think about it for a second. Celestia has been in charge of this entire nation for over a thousand years. Nopony knows how long before that. A thousand years of bad habits and routines. It takes time to get rid of such stuff, you know? She sees these bows each and every day. Dozens of times each day, in fact. And she receives all these gifts, too. Rare stuff, expensive stuff, impressive stuff. Meant to impress her. To sway her. She gets a lot of shows of respect. Honest ones and dishonest ones. I don’t… want to be ‘just another one’, you know? I do respect what she has been doing, and still is doing to this very day. But I carry that respect with me, I don’t need to boast about it. If she insists on it? Sure. If others are watching? Sure. Because it’s a formality. Decorum. It exists for a reason, but… we’re not in her throne room right now. Or, heaven forbid, in court. And as long as it’s not in an official capacity, I don’t think I would even address her as ‘Princess Celestia’. Especially not in that awe-inspired, idolizing tone Twilight tends to use. She puts her on this unreachable pedestal… many do that. The immaculate, flawless, perfect Princess Celestia, Timeless Beauty Incarnate.” I had not even realized that an almost angry undertone had wormed its way into my little speech. I shook my head and tried to clear it. “She’s a friend of mine. Or… was one, once. I hope she’ll be my friend again. On a normal day, she was Celestia. On a good one, she was Tia, my little minx.”

I sighed again. “Everypony has these stupid expectations of her. How she ‘has to be’. They expect her to be distant. To stand above all others. And it’s just the saddest thing in the long and tragic history of sad things. Because at the end of the day, she’s just a pony. And she’s not allowed to make her own choices. To live however she wants to live. She wanted this nation to grow strong and her ponies to be happy. And she had to make so many horrible sacrifices to get there… I hope that I’ll gain her friendship once more. I have a present for her: I want to give her the feeling of being just a pony. I couldn’t overwhelm her with gifts and riches. I can’t write epic prose to save my life. And Pinkie agrees that I’m not enough of a mind reader to know every wish and whim before she does. But I could treat her like any other friend. I could treat her like I treat Twilight or Pinkie or Derpy or Lyra. Maybe even more, someday.”

Had I always been this big on monologs?

Sunny had been silent throughout the entire thing. She absentmindedly chipped away at her ice cream before it could melt and sipped her tea and just listened. It reminded me of Fluttershy. Kindness makes you open up. “Is that something you want then? Courting a princess?” she asked quietly.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t care that she’s a princess. Actually, if I were to fall for her again—“ Again? Huh. “I-I… I’m terrible with this much attention. I know it is part of the deal, you can’t have one without the other and she’s definitely worth it, but… I just hate the spotlight.”

Instead of honing in on that as a part of me had feared she would, she changed the topic. “You said you know her? That you were friends before?” I just nodded. “What do you know?” she added.

My cheeks and ears felt warm. And I did not care to suppress a dreamy smile. “They have both been alive for longer than my mind can grasp. They have seen so many wonders of this world. They do have the knowledge and wisdom of ages long past. Luna has always been the more emotional one. Or rather, she’s more upfront with her feelings. It fits, I guess. Her night domain is associated with desire and passion, for good and ill. Celestia, on the other hoof, is a diplomat at heart. For her, it isn’t even an effort to steer any conversation in any direction she wishes. She can talk down enraged emissaries and offended leaders in a couple of minutes. She cares. A lot. For everypony. Her heart is that of a mother, and she carries a heavy burden because of it. When it is time to make difficult decisions, it falls to her. When the question arises if it is better to sacrifice the few for the good of the many, it falls to her. She’s been dealing with this for way too many years. Without break. And without breaking. She is a born leader. A caretaker. Her love is unyielding as the sun, warm and nurturing and capable of fierce vengeance upon those who threaten what is dear to her. But she is lonely, too. She knows loss like few others do. Countless students, lovers, friends. Families. She carries so much pain and regret on her shoulders, hiding it behind her mask. And as long as she hides it, it cannot heal. Because she doesn’t process it. Doesn’t let it go. She holds on to it for dear life, because it is a reminder. Every failure and every loss is sweetened with the memory of a name or a face. She radiates serenity and brings peace to others, sharing so much… and keeping none for herself.”

My voice had become barely a whisper over time. My heart felt as heavy as my words had been. When I looked over to Sunny, her smile had fallen away. Her eyes were watery and tears stained her cheeks. I tried to lighten the mood and forced a smile upon my features, only to feel how full of sorrow it was. “And she loves chamomile tea. And strawberry ice. And almost every kind of cake there is. She despises coffee. Which is just one more reason to love her. And she makes the best tea there is.” It was admittedly a weak attempt.

Sunny’s distant look was replaced by one of thought. She stared down at her mug. And her ice cream bowl. It took some time, but she smiled again. I could not tell if it was honest or not. It was… different. She carefully stood up. “Thank you for the tea. But I think I should return home.”

I nodded and brought her back to the entrance door. “With any luck, we’ll bump into each other again soon enough. I’m looking forward to it.”

She smiled again. It was another honest one. “Me too.”

The door closed and I turned around. I closed my eyes as well and took a deep inhale. Cadance’s breathing technique did not work for me when I was panicking. But it had its merits in other situations. Opening my eyes again, I felt a little bit more centered.

Right. Now — Twilight and Spike had not answered any call and had not shown up either. But I found no trace of a note or something. None at the door, none in the living room and none in the kitchen. This led me to believe that they must still be around this massive place… somewhere.

Walking around the now less empty hallways for a couple of minutes of admiring Stonewood's work yielded nothing… until I heard a strange noise. I walked in that direction, drawn to its source. I was almost sneaking at that point and started to recognize it as somepony sobbing. The kind of unbridled sobbing that followed after bawling one's eyes out.

It’s not Twilight, I tried to reassure myself. But that did little to calm me down. It was not her, yet it sounded familiar nonetheless. A sound I had heard rarely, I remembered. And it had almost broken my heart every time.

I stood frozen at the entrance to one of the guestrooms. It was one of a few with larger proportions, enough room to feature a sofa of its own. On which Twilight sat, holding one of her friends in a tight embrace. She tried to comfort her. Be there for her. But that look of pain on her face spoke of her failed attempts.

And Applejack continued to weep.

Applejack cries on the inside, Twilight! Pinkie's voice echoed clear as day in my head.

It’s true, AJ nonchalantly confirmed and crossed her front legs.

Her shell was hard as stone. Not just because of her muscles, but because Applejack was rooted to the ground. She stood firm, unyielding, come storm or flood or the end of the world. It took tremendous effort to break her down like that. Or a very precise stab.

I suddenly felt nauseous. I reeled. Seeing Big Mac weakly crawl his way forth from under a fallen tree. It had taken him months to heal…

I saw Applebloom almost hitting the roof of the farmhouse. If Rainbow hadn’t caught her last second…

I saw Granny Smith. She smiled serenely while sitting in her chair, but her chest did not move.

Don’t.

I almost choked. What if something had happened? Obviously something had happened, but what if something serious had happened to them?

No, I begged internally, I didn’t even get to say ‘hi’ yet…

My gaze was drawn to AJ once more. I was searching for a clue, any indication of what might have happened. She was grief-stricken. Tears stained her coat, dark patches on Twilight's fur told a depressing story of how long she had already been crying like this. Her eyes were clenched shut. She continued to sob, to shake. I could see her attempts to restrain herself, to regain control, but every single time she failed and wailed on just a little bit harder than before.

Don’t.

I stepped forward. Just one step. Twilight’s ears swiveled around. She looked up and her eyes locked with mine. What happened?, I silently asked. She read my face. My worries. My wishes. And she shook her head while once again stroking AJs mane and shoulders with a hoof. And she held her tighter with the other.

Don’t! You’re hurting her! Dreamwalker, stop! I remembered Fluttershy of all ponies, tackling me to the ground. Standing over me, wings flared, eyes wide with anger. My hooves were bloodied. It should have been impressive. Intimidating, even. But I couldn't care less, I wanted to punch her some more and tried to crawl back to Rainbow to—

Don’t.

Of course you’re invited. You’re part of the family, Applejack said. Her words echoed in my mind until it hurt. Part of the family. Part of the family.

Another step forward.

Twilight's gaze transformed. Cold and hard and warning me away. She shook her head again, softly as to not disturb Applejack. A single nod for the door was all I got. Go away. It was clear enough. Even for me.

Don’t go!

Don’t leave!

Don’t come closer!

Don’t hurt her!

Just don’t.

I almost tripped as the memories flooded my mind. Twilight was right. I was a mess. And a mess like me would be no help right now. She had all her hooves full with that situation, whatever it was. I turned. Slowly. Quietly. One step away. A second step away. I felt horrible. She was family. I should not leave her like this. I should be in there. I should be helping. Trying, at least.

A soft raspberry glow encased the door. I looked back over my shoulder. The gap closed. Not entirely, though — Twilight did not want to risk Applejack being startled by the doors lock clicking close.

I stood in that hallway and felt numb. Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes, but they just didn’t. After who knows how long, I moved again. I felt strangely detached. Distant. I went to the kitchen. Made some tea. I left the door purposefully ajar. Anyone attentive enough would see that the kitchen was in use. And I could hear anypony milling about near the entrance door that was not purposefully sneaking around.

I had a mug in my hooves and I couldn't care less. I stared at it and thought of nothing. Like a massive earthquake, this flash of insight had aftershocks. I was relieved to find that I was not some violent brute. I did not know what Rainbow had done to her. To deserve me flipping out like that. However, I remembered her just taking it. No resistance whatsoever.

For now, it was the only incident I could recall of me resorting to violence.

They always got through, I heard myself say, With help, obviously. Always with help.

Always.

My ears swiveled around at the first sound in ages. Hoofsteps. Two ponies. They were coming down the hallway. The kitchen door was still ajar, but the candle had burned out at some point. It felt like a week ago that I had been running around with Sunny. But that had been this morning. At dawn, even. Where had all that time run off to?

Applejack did not notice me as she walked past. Or maybe she did and just did not care. They both reached the door and I heard whispering. Something like a ‘goodbye’, maybe. A lot more was said, but I suspected that a farewell was included in that.

Twilight made her way back. “What happened?” I asked. It was not even really a question. I accidentally gave Twilight a start, made her jump a little. She cast a simple light spell on her horn, blinding me in return. I flinched and closed my eyes until she reduced its intensity. “Maybe it would be best if she stayed the night?” I offered while blinking the stars away.

She sat down at the table, opposite of me. I wordlessly refilled my mug and levitated it over to her. She accepted with a nod, sipped and slumped. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were bloodshot. She had at some point shared in Applejack's tears. “Twilight… what happened?” I asked again. More insistently.

“You know Applejack,” she started. “She has some issues and she is going to bury them under work.” She sounded frustrated. She had every right to be. Applejack was stubborn. Maybe the most stubborn pony I knew. And this lesson… she had learned it in the past. Over and over again, in fact. Yet it was a lesson that came up every now and then, in dire need of some repeating.

I nodded glumly and waited for her to continue. Only after a minute or two did I realize that nothing else would come. “I am going to know,” I said with gravitas and determination. I had not expected to sound like that, but I was not about to take it back either.

She looked at me, her face moving through several emotional states. Warning. Threat. Protest. Pleading. And finally, surrender. I knew it was unfair of me. After what she had been through, she just did not have it in her to fight me. “I could snoop around,” I told her. “Ask Pinkie or Fluttershy. Check her dreams the next time I get a chance. In fact, I could make a chance if I felt like I really needed to.” I was not above making some threats of my own, apparently. Mine were just more concrete. To make a point.

I would know.

She sighed. “You would learn of it soon enough anyway,” she conceded. She took another sip to prolong her need to explain by just a few seconds. “Apparently, she had been in a relationship with Rainbow.”

It was a volatile cocktail of emotions. For those precious first seconds, tremendous relief was the most prevalent one. Nopony was dead. No burned down farm, no dead Winona, nopony was crippled or blinded or anything else. After that came surprise. I once more skimmed through what I thought I knew about how things usually went. As far as I remembered, this was a first. They were together already? Well. That was great, was it not? One nudge less that I had to give. Two, technically. But then worry creeped in as her word fully registered. Had been. As in: It was over.

Don’t.

I had been there before. We all had been at some point. I remembered awkwardly sitting around as Fluttershy cooed to a distraught Rainbow. I remembered Pinkie almost literally crying a river in sheer compassion for Applejack. I remembered Twilight and me, holding Rainbow between us as she suddenly felt so very small and sounded so very young and fragile again. And I remembered bloody hooves, which made me wince.

“What happened?” I asked yet again.

Twilight just shrugged. “I don’t know. She would not tell me. Honestly, I had a feeling that she just could not.”

Rainbow had not told her? Another flash, mercifully short. Apparently something that happened quite often. Get a hold of yourself, filly! How can you be this bad at communication?! Maybe I should ask her someday. Just to see her face. “How long?” I continued to ask.

“A couple of months, I believe,” she replied. “Applejack said that they had a bumpy start, but the last two weeks had been especially rough. They had tried to keep it a secret for now, even from her family.” She started to be more forthcoming with information. I noticed. I also noticed that tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes: Maybe I had seen this before. Maybe I had been here before. Maybe I could fix this.

Yeah. Maybe I could.

I would certainly try.

I could not not try, anyway.

Keeping secrets was not exactly their forte. For neither of them. “So what happened?” I asked a fourth time. Two rough weeks, culminating in an end of this relationship. Sure, it was something. But if I could get more to work with, I would gladly take whatever I could get.

She looked uncomfortable for a moment. I was about to tell her to stop when she spoke up again. “According to Applejack, Rainbow was acting strange. Awkward and distant. I had not noticed any such behavior during our meetings as a group, but she said it was only when they were alone with each other. She… tried to force Rainbow to tell her.”

Ah. Now I got the picture. Rainbow usually reacted rather badly to threats and pressure. At least pressure she had not applied herself.

“You don’t really feel comfortable with telling me this,” I noted the obvious. She nodded. And I… I was an idiot. I had basically pressured her into answering me. I had threatened her. Goodness gracious, what was wrong with me?! I sighed deeply and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I should not have forced you. You were just trying to help a friend and protect their privacy.”

“You are going to help, are you not?” she asked quietly and shied away from my gaze.

“I… I’m going to try, yes.”

She bit her lower lip in thought. She nodded more to herself than to me. “Then hopefully, it will be worth it and they will forgive me.”

I felt strange sitting there, pondering the question: How far was I willing to go for the sake of my friends? For their happiness? Would I betray them if it would make them happier in the end? Would I be willing to sacrifice my own friendship for that? I was trying to answer that on her behalf, for her sake, as much as mine. Twilight had made no promise to keep her mouth shut. After her experiences with Pinkie Promises, she had grown more cautious. And this had been a random encounter, forced by chance. Had I spent the entire day with Sunny or in the library or literally anywhere else, I would not have known of any of this. Spilling the beans was a sacrifice she was willing to make. Because she was the one bearing the consequences.

How about myself then? I apparently had been willing to threaten a dear friend. One who just yesterday had told me that she trusted me. And felt safe with me. I wanted to kick myself so hard at that moment. Twilight was not one to hold a grudge. She probably had already forgiven me, arguing in my favor that I was just protective or something. And while that was not wrong, it felt like a cheap excuse.

Was I willing to bear the consequences of my own actions?

So far, I had shared a smile at a distance with Applejack. She was reasonable, sure, but she was also wary. And neither she nor Rainbow would take kindly to me meddling in their affairs.

Was I willing to take the risk of losing their friendship before it had even begun, just so that I could have a shot at fixing their already broken relationship?

Because that was what this came down to, was it not? Risking something for a chance. Success wasn’t even guaranteed here. I did not know what had caused this rift. I remembered dozens of instances where they had called it off for dozens of different reasons. Half of them stupid as heck. Who breaks up over a pig?!

I looked at Twilight. She was trying to smile. Emphasis on ‘trying’. So I tried as well. “I’m not sure how, yet. But I will fix this.” I tried to be careful with promises as well. But I really wanted to promise it. I reigned myself in, though. No need to upset Pinkie should things not work out.

Never promise something you cannot guarantee to keep!

Right. That.

“Come on. You could use a good night’s rest.” I walked around the table and leaned in, placing my forehead against hers. Our horns crossed and sent a little, satisfying shiver down my spine. Under any other circumstances, it could have felt intimate. This time, it was just an unspoken promise of backup. Of help. I walked her to her bedroom, watched her go in and then did not even bother trying to sleep myself. Instead, I immediately returned to the kitchen, made a fresh pot of tea and settled in the living room. I had to plan my angle of attack.

Whenever I ran head first into another dead end, I distracted myself by presenting White Tip — and to an extent Owlicious — with a riddle. I knew a couple and they apparently enjoyed the challenge. And I returned to brooding every time they were done. This was shaping up to be a fun night.