Dreamwalker's Tale: An Anthology

Whitetail Woods had such a peaceful aura. And it was not like I was spouting such nonsense all the time. I was not a kindred spirit to Treehugger, I did not go about my business and claimed everything had an aura and spouted how ‘radical’ or ‘smooth’ it was.

The ‘aura’ I meant was something almost tangible. Like a blanket of pure peacefulness that emanated from each tree. On any other given day, I would have loved to just stroll through these woods, by my lonesome or with company, and just enjoy the feeling. My nerves easily frazzled. I was prone to panic attacks. I knew that. Everypony close to me knew that. So to know about a place like this, where even my nerves calmed down, was priceless.

However, I was not here to enjoy the scenery. Quite the contrary, I was here to ruin it. Or at least, practice for the moment I would. I had come here in the past… few… couple of… days? Probably?

Honestly, I had a hard time telling the past few days apart. Which certainly was not an entirely new revelation, but it once again made me stop and consider if maybe, just maybe, I was biting off more than I could chew. And as had happened each time before this, I shrugged it off with an almost violent head shake. I needed to stay focused, after all. What did Rainbow say? No pain, no gain. Or something like that. Had it even been Rainbow? Goodness, everything blurred together again.

I was getting ready to start the day. Well, to properly start the day. I had been up for maybe an hour. Or two. Rise early — I hated that —, eat breakfast alone, silently and quickly — and I hated that, too — and then come out here and start to warm up — which, as the final point, I obviously hated as well.

But my warm-up was done and I was ready to start. I looked to the nearby tree, just to make sure that my stuff was still there. Saddlebag, blanket, a waterskin. Neatly stacked against the bark, in a little hollow so that it would be better protected from the elements. Just in case it would start to rain or the wind would pick up. I did a horrible job at keeping up with the weather schedule.

And then I saw a moving speck of orange in the distance.

I would not have batted an eye, really. Could have been anything. But I knew better, somehow. There was a vague understanding in the back of my head that was quickly confirmed once she drew closer. This was Applejack. And I had no idea why she was all the way out here. But she came in my direction. More precisely, she made a beeline for me. Me specifically.

I had no idea what was wrong with me. Well, actually, I had several. But it basically all came down to: I was not quite right in the head. In these past few days… weeks… whatever, especially. Had I had my mental faculties all in better shape, I would have quickly deemed my idea stupid and unnecessary.

Applejack was strong. A pure-bred farmpony with hindquarters powerful enough to kick a rooted tree and send it flying. I idolized her a little bit, I knew that. But I did so not for her strength. I admired her honesty. Her work ethics. Just about anything that did not come down to physical features. Though I had to admit, those freckles got me a little bit, every time.

I knew she was a runner, too. She was strong, and quick, and surprisingly agile for a pony this strong. Which was probably an earth pony-thing.

The idea was simple, really.

I would run.

I would run away from her, use my considerable head-start to see how far I could get before she inevitably caught up to me. Because she would catch up to me. She was Applejack. And I was… well, me.

“Don’t you dare run!” I heard her yell. “Celestia be my witness, I will smack some sense into you!”

I grinned. The kind of stupid grin someone had when not thinking clearly, when not thinking things through to their ultimate end, or when not thinking at all. I wished I had my mental faculties in check. I should have realized how serious she sounded. That tone alone would have given me pause, should have told me to stand still and wait for her arrival. But no. I grinned, and I dug my hooves into the dirt, and I ran.

Because I was an idiot.

“Dreamwalker!” she yelled after me. “You come right back here this instant, you lousy bag of fleas!”

I dared to look back over my shoulder, still grinning. She ran after me, just as expected. But she did not look all that amused. Not at all. She looked a little bit pissed, to be honest. And again: That really should have given me pause. It was a slightly frightening prospect to actually anger Applejack. Getting on her nerves, frustrating her, annoying her, that was not the same as angering her.

I had done something wrong, and I did not even realize it.

For obvious reasons, she was quickly gaining on me. I heard the blood rush in my ears. I felt the powerful jolt of kinetic energy every time my hooves smacked into the dirt of the path, only to lose contact a moment later. I felt the wind brush past my completely overheated cheeks, sapping all the warmth out of them.

I always felt like shit before I ran. Because I dreaded the run, I dreaded the risk of hurting myself, I dreaded looking stupid, I dreaded the moment after. And I always felt like shit after I ran, because of the sheer exhaustion. And probably because I did not know how to run properly, though that had changed at least a little bit in recent… times.

But while I was running, I felt… well, still a little bit shitty, but less so than I would have expected. It always surprised me. Every time. I was not a runner. I was not an athlete at all. I was a gosh-darn couch potato. An armchair-adventurer. A hermit. I really liked to be indoors. I preferred it, very much so.

But Whitetail Woods was a peaceful, calming place. And here I could run without constantly thinking about how useless this was, or how silly I must look, or how wrong I did my running.

The thoughts distracted me. And I had probably missed some of Applejack's more colorful yells. My eyes were fixed on the path ahead again, because I still had that thought of how awful it would hurt to stumble and fall nagging in the back of my head.

“That’s it, I’ve had enough!” I heard her yell. And strangely enough, her voice got quieter. As if she was falling back. Maybe she actually stopped running? I dared to look over my shoulder again and saw her retrieve her rope. Already fashioned into a sling. A lasso.

My first thought was not what it should have been. No ‘oh, she’s serious, I should probably stop!’, no ‘did I really annoy her that much? This is usually reserved for dragging Rainbow around!’ Instead, my brain short-circuited again and produced a simple: Hey, that’s cheating!

The lasso swung through the air. And I did my best to track its course with my eyes. Stupid mistake, but then again very much fitting with my current state. In a vague attempt to escape the sling, I veered a little to the left. The next few seconds were a blur.

I was pretty sure that I stumbled. Maybe a root, or a rock, or an uneven part of the dirt path. And I fell. While running at top speed. Exactly what I had been dreading.

In those precious few seconds, I only had time to do one thing. Either react to the fall by at least trying to raise my front hooves in front of my muzzle to cushion the blow a little bit, at least. Or do something stupid.

I obviously decided on the latter and spent my time with a simple thought:

Huh.

Then I hit something very hard and everything went black.

It was a practice run. No, not even that. It was a test run.

I tried to remember that, tried to remind myself of that. Yet I still could not keep myself from giving it my all. A part of me thought that was very reasonable. After all, Rainbow wanted to see what I was capable of. Another part argued that this was quite stupid, because I would not be able to keep this level up for long. Or at all.

She almost lazily flew beside me, a little higher so that she could easily glide over anypony, should any pony even be around here. We had started this run in front of the castle, and we ended it there as well. And I was heaving breaths.

Rainbow landed beside me with a raspy chuckle and patted my back a little. Just a little. It was probably gross. I felt like my body ought to be slick from sweat. However, I could not apologize, and that was probably for the better. I needed to catch my breath first.

“Well,” she started and eyed me up with that cocky grin of hers. “Not too bad. Good legwork, actually. But your stamina is kinda shitty.”

The urge to smile was there. It tugged at the corners of my mouth. I had no idea why Rainbow just being Rainbow made me smile, but it did. And I was grateful for that. Also: A little bit of self-deprecating humor had never hurt anypony, right? So I pushed a grin onto my muzzle and replied: “Heard that before.”

She guffawed for a brief moment. I had caught her by surprise, good. Good. “Yeah, right. So, tell you what, I’m totally down for training you. I think that could work. Could be fun, actually.”

And a boulder rolled off. Both from my heart, and my shoulders. Which was funny, considering that with this simple statement, it became quite apparent that the real, grueling work would just start here, not end. I nodded eagerly despite this. “Great! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” And I hugged her. I knew how Rainbow was, and that she did not quite favor such displays in public. Made her look less cool, she claimed. But nopony was around. And I honestly did not really consider everything before my gratitude simply swept any rational thought out the window.

She froze a little for the first second or two, and I could feel her head swivel around to see if anypony was within sight. And only after she made sure she was still undeniably awesome did she sigh and hug me back. It was fine. I was actually glad she did it at all. Rainbow was more the subconsciously touchy type. If she was startled or started to think about who she was touching, and how and why and for how long, she became awkward really fast. A bit like me, actually. But as long as she did not think about it, she constantly sought physical contact. Leaning against ponies. Touching her hoof to their shoulder. She would have died of embarrassment if anypony would ever have told her how many times she was seen with her primaries lazily trailing along Applejack's back.

I still knew that there were limits, of course. And honestly, it was a matter of personal preference as well. For as much as I loved all of my friends with the same fervor, hugging a soft and slightly squishy Pinkie was so much more fun and satisfying than hugging the sleek and slender form of an athlete like Rainbow. Also, it would become awkward eventually if it went on for too long.

So I took a step back and smiled at her. An underwhelming attempt to express my gratitude.

“Thing is, though,” she continued as if nothing had happened, “I can only train you the one way I know how.”

My mind immediately sprang to the academy. I had been there multiple times in multiple cycles. The Wonderbolts trained their recruits there. And the mere thought made me grimace. “Wonderbolts drill?”

“Wonderbolts drill!” she echoed with a lot more enthusiasm than I had mustered. “I’m your trainer and you’re my… uh…”

“Pupil?” I offered.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go with that,” she nonchalantly replied with a shrug. And then a grin quickly grew on her muzzle, taking over any other emotion currently on display. It was the kind of almost shark-like grin that made me want to retreat half a step, minimum. She breathed in deeply. That was the signal. I knew what was coming. My ears went flat against my skull in an effort to protect themselves, I clenched my eyes shut and hoped, hoped that Rainbow would see the poor display before a single noise made it out of her throat.

But for all her magnificent talents, this specific kind of perceptiveness was not one of them.

“Alright, recruit! Stop lollygagging and get your ass into gear!”

And then I did it. Despite my best efforts to control myself, to keep in line, to play along… I took half a step back. Rainbow did not notice. But I did. And I knew what it meant. What it entailed. Rainbow inhaled deeply again, probably because I had not shown any other reaction, certainly none she wanted to see. And I knew I had to stop her. And I had to do it fast. “Don’t!”

It was a pathetic, half-choked gurgle that wormed its way out of my throat. A plea. I was begging her. And for as much as I wanted to sigh in defeat, I at least managed to keep that one in.

Rainbow simply stood there and looked at me. In confusion, mostly. “Don’t… what?” she asked. Calmly. Quietly. She could accommodate even for wimps like me, but she needed to become aware of the need to do so first.

I needed a minute to collect myself, maybe longer. I tried not to spend too much of that time berating myself, because I knew I needed my thoughts in order to talk her through this next, uncomfortable part. “Please don’t yell at me. This… this isn’t going to work. I don’t… I don’t react well to being yelled at.”

Rainbow furrowed her brow and looked at me like I was some kind of advanced puzzle box. She attempted to say something twice, but shut herself down each time before actual words manifested on her tongue. Only with the third attempt did she trust herself enough. “I mean, you’re not supposed to react well to it. I mean… what does that even mean?” The confusion broke her voice midway through. It could have been funny. But I was in no mood to joke around.

I sighed. For as uncomfortable as this was, I was still glad. Because I had no judgment to fear from Rainbow. Maybe she did not understand. Maybe she would not, despite all attempts to explain it. Maybe she simply could not understand it. It was possible, after all. But no matter how this went down in the end, I had no judgment to fear. I could see it in her eyes. She would stick with me either way. And I was grateful for that. In a manner that went far beyond any words I had to express it. “I like you,” I started with a wry smile. “And I would very much prefer to stay friends.”

It was not the straightforward answer Rainbow had hoped for. She took her time to digest it. To sort through what I possibly meant by that. And in the end, she looked at me again with less confusion. “What about Wither Rose?”

And there it was. I cringed a little and averted my eyes. I looked down at my slightly nervously shuffling hooves. I had made such a big deal out of this. And I really should not have. “I initially thought I could befriend her. It’s… what I told everypony. B-But I don’t think I can. Not anymore. The yelling is just… it’s just too much. Every time I see her, I hear her. And every time I think of her, I hear her, too. Can’t we just… I don’t know… run? Can’t you just run with me? Like friends?”

Rainbow subconsciously chewed her bottom lip while she considered all the possible options. Or some of them, at least. Considering all options was more of a Twilight-thing. Eventually, she came to a conclusion and a small smile returned to her muzzle and brightened her features a little. “Yeah, sure, I guess. We can certainly try, right?”

That got a chuckle out of me. I knew that she was one of the regulars at Spikes Ogres & Oubliettes-table. So to hear her use that phrase was funny, in a way. I briefly wondered how many times Spike had used it on her. Well, you can certainly try…

I was about to wake up. I could tell, somehow. And as the memory slowly sank back down to the bottom of the muddy pond that was my mind, a voice in the back of my head could not let the opportunity to tease me slip by.

Run like friends. Didn’t quite work out, did it?

I sighed. Or at least I thought I did. Rainbow had helped me a great deal. She motivated me. She kept me going. She had given me advice and easy to follow instructions. And the latter was the issue, probably. There was a high likelihood that I had reached my goal already. The initial one, anyway. But I just kept going. Because I had poor self-control sometimes, and now that the bare minimum was done, there was still room for improvement, right? Maybe I would not just be able to keep up, maybe I would be able to impress.

And was that not worth the effort? And the pain?

Rainbow had been very… reasonable. She had told me how to train. How often, how long, all that. Just in case she could not make it to our little sessions. Because she was a busy mare, after all. And I had started to train by myself. A lot more than she had advised, and a lot longer too. Because who needs self-control anyway, right?

“Howdy ‘n welcome back to the land of the livin’,” Applejack greeted me before I even opened my eyes.

As soon as I cracked them open, I groaned. My head spun. And hurt. A lot. “Ouch…”

“Yeah, I reckon that tumble back there is goin’ to hurt. You alright, sugar cube?”

I did not answer immediately, but instead looked around. I found myself lying on the sofa in the living room of the Apple family homestead. It was a quite familiar sofa, to be honest. And familiarity was good. It made me feel safe.

Applejack had drawn the curtains shut. A small sliver of light seeped through in between them anyway. The entire room was just… homely. What could easily have seemed like bric-a-brac to anypony else were memorabilia of years and years and years of a family living together. Apple Blooms first ‘flute’. She had quickly given up on carving. That thing did not even work. But it looked funny. And it reminded them of a time when she was smaller. Bic Mac's old harness. Ponies had joked about it. How it was up in the air who would outlive who. As a result, he had decided that it would certainly outlive him, at least, and put it up on the wall. As worn down as it was, there was little use in it anyway. Anypony else would have seen it as trash. But there was history to it.

History. His. Story. I chuckled silently.

My eyes finally went back to Applejack. She looked less pissed than I remembered, which was already a good thing to notice. Though I felt bad. Immediately. Not only because I now remembered how she had looked and sounded, but also because I had a little bit of a clearer head now. And I realized how foolish I had acted. And to top it all off, she looked worried. For my sake. Because what else would worry her right now?

I inhaled deeply and gave a long sigh. “I feel like you’ve run me over, but I know better. Otherwise, I’m… fine.” A few scrapes and scratches would not signify the end of the world. They burned a little and I felt a slight tinge of pain whenever I moved too much. But I could tell that she had carried me in here and immediately went to work on cleaning everything up, disinfecting it, and so on. One day, she would be one heck of a mom. If one did not consider her one to Apple Bloom already anyway.

“You’re fine?” she asked. I instantly became a little wary because of the disbelief in her tone. And since I did not fully trust myself or felt like I properly understood the situation, I merely nodded. “Dreamwalker, you’re not ‘fine’. And if you feel like I’ve run you over now, I reckon you might want to start talkin’ now, before I smack some sense into you!”

Even though she tried to keep the tone light and flighty and she shot me one of those rare, sly grins, I could tell she was frustrated. I had a hard time telling what ponies felt, occasionally, but even I was not blind. Problem was: I still felt like I was missing a crucial piece here. But this was Applejack. She was like family to me. She was family. Like a sister. And I did not wish to disappoint her. Ever, at all.

I could already feel my heartbeat quickening at the same rate my breathing did. I noticed with a strange disconnect how I scanned the room's exits in an attempt to gauge how long it would take me to flee. Luckily, I knew myself well enough, so I channeled that excess nervous energy into talking. Because that, while awfully awkward, usually worked out for the better.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried to defend myself. “I am fine! I was just preparing to go on a run and then you showed up and I thought it would be a good idea to implement you into my training and then you had a lasso and I tried to sidestep and—“

She put a hoof to my muzzle. And I stopped talking. “Breathe.” And I did. She withdrew her hoof and smiled at me. A warm smile. Warm and welcoming and soothing. And it helped a little. Then some of that hardness returned. “Now, if you can, please quit your fussin’ and just talk to me. This ain’t our first rodeo, is it? You know you can trust me. I won’t judge.”

“I’m…” I hesitated. It would be utterly stupid to reiterate that I was fine. Applejack was patient. A lot more than Rainbow. But even her patience would run out eventually. And I had a hard time being forthcoming, since, well… “I don’t know what this is about.”

Applejack furrowed her brow. To the point where she lifted her trademark hat a little to scratch her mane with a hoof. “You don’t?” she asked. I shook my head. And she sighed. “Reminds me of that harvest ages ago, when Big Mac had hurt himself. Twilight kept talkin’ to me, but I didn’t quite listen. I couldn’t even tell the days apart, to be honest.” She sighed again, although it was accompanied by a chuckle, and fixed me with a resolute stare. “I want an explanation. You remember Twilight, right? The friend you’re livin’ with? I want to know why she came to me to ask about you.”

My initial reaction was stunned silence. I was dumbstruck. She posed a really good question. Why did Twilight come to her? And for what? She ‘asked about me’, but that said nothing about the context. What did she actually want to know? But before I could even attempt to fix that chaos into a couple of useful questions, Applejack continued.

“I already tried to get that explanation yesterday.”

I furrowed my brow and tried to remember any such encounter. And sure enough, out of the muddy pool rose a vague memory of… something. I talked to her. Maybe. Yesterday, maybe. “Yeah, but—“

“And last time you came home from Canterlot.”

The teleportation stone needed to be charged. Despite how much I longed to be home at all times, I could only use it to actually get home on weekends. And truthfully, I did remember some sort of encounter with Applejack from last weekend. “Sure, but—“

“And the day before that one.”

“I-I’m pretty sure you just wanted to—“

She harrumphed. It was such a strange, rare gesture coming from her that it shut me up immediately. “Listen, I know how I get with these things, so I reckon I know a thing or two about what’s in your head right now. Quit fussin’, start talkin’. What’s going on? Why are you out there in Whitetail Woods? Why are you hidin’ from Twilight? Did you two argue? I hate pryin’ into other ponies’ personal businesses, so… please don’t make me.”

I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my muzzle with a hoof. I obviously did not want to force her hoof in any way, shape or form. But I apparently already had. And she was mentioning conversations I had barely any recollection of, if at all. At least she had provided some questions I could use as guidance. “It’s meant as a surprise. For Twilight. We didn’t fight, and I’m not… hiding. Not intentionally, anyway. I wanted to build myself up for the next Running of the Leaves. So that I can run alongside her.”

Applejack looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted a second head. “But… Twilight doesn’t even care about her placement in the run?”

“Neither do I,” I quickly assured. “I just want to be able to run alongside her.”

“I don’t get it. If you can’t run all that well, why don’t you just ask her to go slower?” And she made it sound easy, to be fair. It would have been, most likely. I could ask. Twilight would probably not think about it twice before agreeing. And the mere thought of her agreeing to that made my hair stand on end.

“I don’t want to drag—“ I started and quickly cut myself off. In an ultimately futile attempt to plaster over the issue, I corrected myself. “I don’t want to slow her down!” I could already see it. Applejack had heard my slip and she already puzzled things together. I grimaced, knowing that I would be unable to stop that. Why was it impossible to undo thoughts and spoken words without aggressive and often evil magic? “Listen, I almost got this. Just a couple more weekends and I’m up to par.”

The gears were turning. She stopped for a moment, just to regard me with a warm, empathic smile, and she hugged me. It was a brief contact, but a welcome one. My neck brushed against hers. My nostrils quickly filled with the scent that was so typical for Applejack as my nose got buried in her mane. Her hat tickled against my ear. And I felt close to her.

She withdrew and tried to build up a certain sternness in her features. “Let me tell you a story,” she started.

“But I’m the Storyteller,” I cut in with a quiet chuckle.

“Shush you, or I’m going to see if I can find a muzzle lying around,” she threatened with a sly smile.

“Kinky,” I retorted with a grin. She chuckled and punched my shoulder. It was probably not even a tenth of her strength, but I felt it anyway. I grimaced as little as I could manage and kept my smile in place. But the gesture had successfully made me shut up. For now.

“There was this time when Twilight, smart cookie that she is, tried to prevent some future havoc by disaster-proofin’ all of Ponyville,” she continued.

A wave of memories flooded my mind. Images, voices, a whole chaotic mess of them, the feeling of water against my skin, the sound of stone cracking and bursting, ponies screaming, laughing, proud shoulder-pats for everypony involved. I smirked. “I know that one,” I cut in again.

“Gosh darn, will you let me finish?!” she flared. Somehow, I could not take her temper seriously this time. I chuckled quietly, but nodded to signal my attention. Maybe it was her grin. She took a moment to recollect her thoughts, but ultimately sighed and shrugged. “Point of the story is, or would have been, that she gets a little obsessed with stuff every now and then. And you two get along like pig and mud because you’re similar. Issue is, I just don’t know what your inkwells are just yet.”

I smiled. Probably the kind of smile that would make Rainbow stick her tongue out in a display of disgust. Twilight was prepared. She had a set writing supply. Five sheets of paper, a wax seal with her cutie mark, three quills, a firefly lantern and three inkwells. Everything in perfect amounts and conditions. And when placed somewhere, everything was perfectly aligned. Applejack had demonstrated the power of these routines more than once. Simply nudging one of the inkwells was enough to get Twilight out of whatever stupor she had managed to dig herself into.

We both smiled our private little smiles as we indulged in fond memories. But eventually, Applejack freed herself and continued. “Every time she gets like that, she needs us, her friends, to drag her out again. That’s what friends are for. I’m your friend. And right now, I’m worried about you. Worried that you’re obsessin’ over this. Spike told me you returned to the castle late. You barely eat. You sleep badly.”

“Spike told you I don’t sleep well?” I asked in befuddlement. That Applejack had made her way to the castle, okay, sure. I could see that happening. Especially after Twilight basically set her on my tracks. That she would talk to Spike? Obvious. But how in the world would Spike be able to tell that—

“Twilight told me.”

Oh. Right. Makes much more sense.

Applejack sighed and shook her head. “You are not dragging her down, sugar cube. You are giving her a good and valid reason to slow down. It is her decision to do so. And remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint, right?”

I cringed a little. It was advice I had given Rainbow at one point. It had been a funny day, really. Rainbow rather talked to me about relationship issues than to Rarity. And the obvious first advice I had for her was that, instead of talking to me, she should have been talking to Applejack. But hey. Easy mistake to make. I did that all the time as well.

“If you want to walk that path together,” Applejack continued with a softer voice, “you will both have to compromise. To adjust to each other. You were willin’ to put in a lot of effort for her sake. That’s good. But don’t you go ‘round makin’ decisions on her behalf. She has a right to decide for herself. And to tell the truth, I reckon she’d rather have you with her.”

I had been a complete and utter fool, hadn’t I? I sighed and hugged Applejack again. I felt like I needed something solid and reliable to cling to right now. And she was willing to deal with that.

I could feel that there was still tension in her body. There was still something on her plate. Some lingering issue she had not spoken about yet. “What is it?” I dared to ask in a whisper.

She shifted slightly in mild discomfort, but did not withdraw from the hug. “You asked me for this, so here it goes. Remember that she’s not your special somepony. She’s just a friend.”

I swallowed hard. And nodded numbly. She was right, of course. I had asked her to tell me this in case I would ever go overboard with something. And I had done just that. On one hoof, it was great that I could rely on her. On the other hoof, I felt awful once more that I had to rely on her.

I hugged her a little bit tighter and clenched my eyes shut. Just a friend, I tried to remind myself. Maybe someday, that would change. But for now, it was the set boundary that I had to accept. A fine line in the sand, not to be crossed.

Honestly, friend or not, it was still Twilight. I would have done all this nonsense for her either way. But the reminder certainly did not hurt.

“You’re a good friend, Applejack. Thank you. And sorry for the bother.”

She chuckled lightly, quietly. “Friends stick together, come Tartarus or high water.”

I smiled and wondered. It would be hilarious to see them one day square up to yet another villain, freed from a thousand-year-slumber, and they blast it with rainbow friendship lasers and only after the fact would they notice that Rainbow and Applejack, in a hurry to get ready, switched elements. Hilarious, but not exactly surprising.

I returned to the castle half an hour after sunset.

I had been eager to return, sure. But at the same time, I had dreaded it a little. Enough to hesitate. Enough to find new topics to talk about and new reasons not to leave the Apple family home. Apple Bloom returned and we talked for a bit before she left with Scootaloo. I talked to Granny a little bit while she was awake. I even tried to strike up a conversation with Big Mac. A true sign of desperation.

At the end of the day — quite literally —, Applejack shoved me out of the front door with a good-natured grin.

And now I was back. The imposingly tall crystal structure looming over the rural, small village never really had that effect on me. To me, it looked like home. Felt like home. I stepped past the massive entrance doors and my nostrils flared as I sucked in the very particular blend of aromas. It smelled like home, too. And it put my mind at ease, despite knowing that at least one awkward moment was yet to come.

I went to the living room first. This late, there was a good chance I could find Twilight in there. Spike too, probably. And as soon as I opened the door, those assumptions were confirmed. A fire merrily crackled away in the fireplace and filled the entire room with a flickering orange light, welcoming warmth and the scent of burning wood. It added nicely to the scent of paper, books and ink.

Twilight lay on one of the broad sofas. And she was reading. Of course.

Spike was with her and already asleep, from the looks of it. He laid against her barrel, under a blanket that covered both of them, with an open comic book draped over his belly and on top of the blanket. He snored quietly and occasionally tried to scratch his tummy through the comic book. Luckily without doing any damage to it.

I stood there for a minute, maybe two. I just stood in the entrance and watched. And I could feel my heart melt a little, bit by bit. I had not realized how badly I missed these moments in the past few weeks. To be part of them, especially. Twilight looked content. She probably read something specialized, technical, sciency. Her muzzle was frozen in an expression of concentration and continued understanding. It was cute.

Eventually, she grabbed her tea mug from a nearby stand and levitated it to her mouth. It was the one moment where she had to look up from her book. And she immediately spotted me standing in the open doorway. She had not even noticed some of the warmth leaving the room, although that was probably due to the blanket.

Let the awkwardness ensue, I sighed internally and mustered my best nonchalant smile. It failed immediately and turned nervous and guilt-ridden. “H-Hey. Sorry I’m late. But… I’m home now.”

The implications quickly dawned on her and that cautious smile gained strength at the same rate. Until she was positively beaming at me. Which my heart reacted to in turn by making me feel light and good and fuzzy.

And then Spike woke up. The little guy grumbled a little about his belly being itchy, and this time he woke up enough to realize why scratching the general area did nothing. He folded his comic book up, looked out the window and then noticed… something. Maybe the lessened warmth in the room, maybe faint air movement, maybe the light that came in from the hallway. Whatever it was, he looked over, saw me and grinned. I didn't even have to say anything at all. He just took one look at me and grinned. “Finally,” he muttered.

Well, to be fair: He knew this spiel from Twilight. He knew it well.

Spike freed himself from the blanket, put his comic book on top of a pile of other ones on his way to the door and stopped in front of me. “Glad you’re back,” he said, and we both went for a quick hug at the same time. Home was safe because home was predictable. “I’m off to bed, g’night!”

“Good night,” both Twilight and I replied. I still raised an eyebrow a little and watched him slouch off towards his bedroom. G’Night, eh? Somedragon’s been spending a bit too much time with a certain Apple, maybe? It was something to think about. Something to tease him with. Another day.

I turned back, finally crossed the threshold for good and closed the door to keep at least some of the fire’s warmth in. I still hesitated for a moment and stood close to the exit. That is, until Twilight’s horn sparked to life, grabbed the blanket and lifted the spot where Spike had just left.

I grinned like an overjoyed colt at Hearth’s Warming Eve and quickly trotted over. I crawled onto the sofa, under the blanket and tucked us in tightly. And her wing shifted a little to cover my back. “It is good to have you back,” she whispered.

I did not trust my treacherous tongue, so I simply smiled, nodded and leaned more heavily against her. Her warmth seeped through my coat and into my very bones in more than one sense. And I loved every second of it. I tried to steal a quick glance at her book, but as expected, it was something I knew nothing about and barely understood a quarter of. And that was fine.

Time became less relevant. Minutes passed by. Twilight read her book. I closed my eyes at her side and just enjoyed myself. The soft rustling of paper whenever she turned a page. Her soft breathing. The feeling of her coat against mine.

All the different sensory impressions that repeatedly told me the same thing. I’m home.

Eventually, I thought back. How the day had started. How these last couple of days blurred into one another. Becoming a guard was grueling. I was not cut out for this stuff. But as Luna had said, I only needed to survive the base training. It would get easier after that. And I tried to muster some tenacity for that.

I would probably have run through Whitetail Woods the entire day. Again. Were it not for Applejack intervening. And talking some sense into me. Without any smacking required, luckily.

Friends stick together, I heard her reiterate in my head. A small, yet powerful smile crossed my lips. “Twilight?”

“Hm?”

“Do you remember that cake Pinkie dragged to the competition by train a couple of years ago?” She looked a little puzzled. The description probably had not been specific enough. “The MMMM, or something? Multilayered mascarpone madness or something like that?”

Twilight giggled faintly as she remembered the exact treat I meant. “The Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness,” she corrected the name.

“Right. Yeah, that one. Do you have any idea how much that thing cost?”

Twilight furrowed her brow, but came up empty-hooved after a few moments. “No. I don’t think she ever told us. Why?”

The MMMM had been a massive cake. Three layers, or four? And despite not being a product that included apples — as much as I could tell —, Applejack had been quite smitten with its taste. Everypony had been. And it had taken several ponies, plus a griffon, plus a mule, to take it down. My grin widened a little as a plan slowly formed in my head. “I think I might order one for Applejack.”

No good deed goes unpunished.