Springs Eternal

by SaddlesoapOpera

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Somnambula, Cheerilee, Slice of Life
Length: 6589

Miss Cheerilee teaches Somnambula about modern Equestria, and learns a few things in the process.

Miss Cheerilee lives in the most interesting town in Equestria, and the incredible events unfolding all around her have left her feeling unremarkable in comparison. As fate would have it, however, what’s been missing in her life all along turns out to be yet another epic, history-making heroine …

An entry for the 2022 Crackship Contest (https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/976293/crackship-contest-2022-jan-06-mar-03) 

This fic takes place after the conclusion of the present-day FiM storyline, but before the ‘distant finale’ era of the epilogue.

Published 2022-03-16 04:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-03-16 04:20:01 UTC

Grief's Best Music

“... And then he SAID he was done, but ohhh no, the second I went to empty the bucket, well, you can guess what the little tyke did, Cuz.” Cheerilee took a deep pull on the straw sticking out of her second highball glass. The level of vivid crimson inside dropped by half.

“Mm-hmm.” Berry Punch stood by the round central table and stirred the wide glass bowl of her namesake concoction, and then set down the ladle before plopping down on one of the barrel-halves that served as stools in her living room. Her cousin was occupying another, and a third was heaped with the as-yet unmarked spelling tests that had accompanied her.

Cheerilee glanced out the living room window, where a sliver-thin alley between the buildings across the way offered a tiny slice of a view of the School of Friendship. “Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “I love my job. I love those foals. ALL of them! It’s just … I don’t know.” She sighed, and then craned her neck to stare down at her own flank. “ … Should I have dreamed bigger?”

“What, a whole bouquet of daisies?” Berry said with a nod at Cheerilee’s floral Cutie Mark. “A dozen roses, maybe?”

That earned a narrow-eyed frown. “You know what I mean.”

And that, in turn, earned a counter-frown. “Do I? Do you think I’m ALSO aiming low, then? Think I could own a vineyard in the San Caballo Valley, or something?”

“No …!” Cheerilee waved her front hooves defensively. “I mean, I don’t think you’re aiming low! I don’t!” She risked a cautious, wry smile. “... Besides, you wouldn’t last a WEEK around those valley-folks before you’d knock somepony’s block off!”

Berry let a silent, stony beat pass before bursting into a hearty and infectious belly laugh. Cheerilee joined her.

“Seriously though, Cheer,” Berry asked, wiping away a tear, “what’s up? It’s not like this is the first time one of your students coughed up his breakfast for show-and-tell. Usually you’re beaming about them on Punch Night, no matter WHAT jam they’ve gotten into. What’s got you hindgazing this time?”

No reply came until Cheerilee had completely drained her glass. She wiped her mouth with a foreleg and heaved a deeper sigh. “It’s … It’s Bonnie, I guess? I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but if HALF of what Lyra kept letting slip is true, she had a whole OTHER career on TOP of the one she’s got. A glamorous, exciting, dangerous one. And now they’re married, and I’m … about to start reusing my lesson plans for the second time.” She hung her head. “I know things didn’t work out great for you marriage-wise, and I’m not asking for pity. But even you’ve got … Pinch.”

Berry nodded gravely. “I’d do it all again for her sake. Every stupid choice, and the stupid way it ended. In a heartbeat.” She glanced at the punchbowl, and then at Cheerilee. With a go-ahead nod in reply, she moved to snap up the ladle and refill Cheerilee’s glass. “What else? That’s not enough for three glasses. Not on a school night.”

“They didn’t even ask me,” Cheerilee said as she watched the expert pour. “Princess Twilight just went ahead and made every single one of her friends faculty, and put an EX-CULT LEADER in charge of the place, and none of them - not the Princess, not any of them - came round the schoolhouse for help. Not even ONCE!” She drained a third of the freshened drink in one go, and then sagged as she let out her breath.

Berry went back to her stool. “No way you’d have been able to do both jobs at once, and no way in TARTARUS you’d bail on those foals.”

Another big sip preceded the reply. “ … I know. It would have been nice if they’d asked, that’s all.”

Berry hopped right back off her barrel-stool and leaned in toward Cheerilee. “Hmmm. You SURE that’s it? I’m getting maybe … two-and-a-half-glasses vibes right now.”

Her cousin fidgeted on her own stool, and looked away. “I MAY have also seen Big Macintosh heading out to bring a big wrapped present to that special somepony of his.”

“Don’t tell me you’re carrying a torch for him!” Berry said, glaring. “You told me that was all because some of your students DRUGGED you!”

One more deep pull, and glass three was gone as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m not. Honest. And I’m glad he moved on! But …”

“... But it woulda been nice if he’d asked.”

Cheerilee silently nudged her empty glass in Berry’s direction.

• • • • •

Later that night, Cheerilee took three times as long as usual to trot the hundred-odd yards from Berry’s home to hers. She made a few wrong turns, some of them on purpose, and turned her bleary gaze to the pristine surface of the moon above.

“Even the queen of nightmares made good!” she mumbled to nopony. “Hmph! Show-off…” She got within a dozen paces of her front door, but then took yet another detour. One more quick sweep around the block.

With that pearly-white moon and an extravagant tapestry of stars, the night was bright enough for Cheerilee to cast a stumbling, shaky shadow. She kept her eyes on it as she trotted.

“But it’s all about them, isn’t it?” she continued. “All those bright little foals. Every one of them that ends up a success, that’s me, too. That’s my legacy, right? As much as it’s their parents’. Yeah…” She frowned. “Isn’t that enough? Always used to be. All about them, just them.” Her frown deepened. “... And not a thing for m-”

Her shadow fell on a pair of polished, peach-pink front hooves.

A mare’s deep, formal voice spoke up: “Forgive the lateness of my arrival, but I have journeyed far and only just arrived. I have come seeking answers. Are you the one known as Cheerilee the Teacher?”

“Wh-What?” Cheerilee hoisted her eyes upward, and stood face to face with a living cut-out from the dogeared and ink-stained Ancient History textbooks she’d been meaning to replace.

Somnambula.

THE Somnambula.

One of the Pillars of Equestria. A co-founder of the guiding principles of ponykind that had inspired the likes of the Royal Pony Sisters Themselves. Banished to the void and released present-day to bear witness to the world she’d helped both build and save. A sleek, elegant, Pegasus, larger than life and slightly petite, clad in gossamer-fine linen and polished gold, with violet eyes lined in bold black kohl.

Somnambula tilted her tiara-topped head. “You resemble the description I was given. This seems to be the home to which I was directed. Am I mistaken?”

The question jarred Cheerilee out of her shocked freeze. Sweet Celestia, SAY something!

Cheerilee the Teacher stood up straight, gave a firm nod … and let out a sudden and echoing belch.

• • • • •

“I am SO sorry…” Upon welcoming Somnambula into her home, Cheerilee had immediately fled to her kitchen to splash cold water on her face.

The living legend covered a polite titter with a hoof. “I am not offended. You are clearly late of a revel, and wine casts turbulent spells upon the stomach.” Somnambula took a step deeper into the cozy living room. “Ah, but meantime, my belongings still sit outside!” She gave two sharp stomps on the wooden floor.

“All right, I’ll be here.” Cheerilee rinsed her mouth out and then shook her head to clear it of inner fog and outer soaking while she waited for her guest to fetch her things.

Somnambula stayed where she was, puzzled. A moment later, she stomped again, tipped her head back a little and raised her voice: “O house servants, your Mistress entertains a guest!” When no answer came, she called out in the direction of the kitchen next. “Good Cheerilee the Teacher, where is your house staff? Has only your well-dipper stayed awake to attend your return home?”

“My … my what?” Cheerilee finally returned to the living room to join her visitor. “It was only me in there. And here, too. I, ah, live alone.” She sat down, looked to one side, and self-consciously rubbed a foreleg on the back of her neck. “No … staff.”

Somnambula stared, aghast. “You, a herald of knowledge, must carry your own water? Prepare your own meals?” She frowned. “Does this land have no respect for learning?”

Cheerilee frowned back and muttered aside: “Sometimes I wonder.” She tried to soften the moment with a vague shrug. “It’s not that bad, though, really. I have a well-pump right in my kitchen, and the icepony never misses a delivery, so it’s not like food and water are big problems …”

“A well of your own is a worthy amenity, indeed.” Somnambula stepped toward the kitchen. “And you trade personally for snow-clouds? At least my own tribe shows you the respect you are due!” She looked this way and that. “But where is it leashed, then? Is there a roof-hatch?” She craned her neck upward.

“There’s no snow-cloud,” Cheerilee said carefully. The fading buzz of Berry Punch’s sweet, fruity concoction was giving way to a dull, throbbing headache already, and the confusion of the moment was doing her no favours. “It’s just an icebox.” She trotted in after the Pegasus, and displayed the upper and lower decks of the appliance. “Ice-blocks from the cold-house get delivered up here, and they cool whatever I keep down here. When the ice melts, I get water for cooking and cleaning ready at hoof. You see?”

Somnambula’s eyes darted as if following a hummingbird, taking in every detail. She spread her wings, sat upright, and kicked the air excitedly with her front legs. “Incredible! I see now that the boons from your scholarly knowledge benefit you more than servants ever could.” She dropped her legs and smoothly slid into a courtly bow. “Forgive me for underestimating you, Cheerilee the Teacher.”

“Um, sure, yes.” Cheerilee was still standing next to the open icebox like a salespony mid-pitch. She nudged the doors closed. “But, if you don’t mind … you said earlier you had questions, or something? What’s all this about? Why’d you come all this way? Shouldn’t you be seeing somepony like Princess Twilight if you’ve got a, uh … Pillars … problem?” She winced.

Smooth.

The Pillar nodded. “Ah, yes! I have already accepted your gracious hospitality, but I have neglected to better explain myself! Once more, my apologies.” She gave another bow, quicker and shallower. “To answer your question, I have in fact already met with the Princess. However, the Crown’s school there is for Unicorns alone, and the libraries deal mostly in magic, fiction, and ancient times. I have need of more … contemporary … schooling. And so, I came here, to Ponyville. To the place where the Princess learned worldly ways.”

“Schooling?” Cheerilee squinted through the building headache. “Well, if you decided to come here, why didn’t the Princess point you toward her own school?” She sagged, very slightly. “It’s amazing.”

Somnambula shook her head. “It is indeed. But again, it does not teach that which I hope to learn. The Princess’s new academy is a place to teach the Pony ways of friendship and harmony, and if I may be so boastful, they are lessons my friends and I learned centuries before this town was founded!” She covered another winsome chuckle, and then locked eyes. “No, Cheerilee the Teacher. You are the one I need.”

“Just …” Cheerilee swallowed. “Just Cheerilee.”

Somnambula took a step toward her. “Yes. Just you.”

Cheerilee looked away from that piercing black-lined gaze, glad — not for the first time — that her dark hide tended to obscure blushing. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to call me Teacher.”

“On the contrary,” Somnambula replied, “that is exactly why I have sought you out.”

“I … what?”

The icebox’s improperly-closed upper door creaked open again. Cheerilee was grateful for the waft of icy air.

• • • • •

The next noon, after a hasty excuse and a gravely distracted half-day of teaching, Cheerilee sat at the café’s open terrace, sharing a table with the only friend she had with any familiarity with managing adventuresome housemates.

“She just showed up on your doorstep?” Lyra’s horn glowed golden. She magicked up her silverware and started meticulously slicing the crusts off her cream cheese, cucumber and watercress sandwich. “And now you bailed on her to get a snack. With me. Somnambula. THE Somnambula, from, uh …”

Cheerilee spoke in a harsh whisper while glancing to and fro at the surrounding tables. “... From Somnambula. And yes! She’s back at my house right now, and she’s going to sit in on the afternoon lesson. So could you PLEASE keep your voice down? I asked you to go to lunch because you’ve got experience and I need advice. I’m trying to keep it on the down-low. I don’t want this to be a whole big … thing!”

With the crusts excised, Lyra turned her attention to cutting the sandwich into four precisely equal quarters.”Dunno if that’s avoidable? This isn’t exactly a visit from a traveling salespony. The Pillars are the biggest news since Princess Twilight and her friends. Your students will talk.” She squinted, focusing on her delicate task. Her tongue subtly poked out from one side of her mouth.

“Maybe you’re right. But this isn’t some crazy epic adventure this time - I checked! She just wants me to teach her, that’s all.”

Lyra completed one slice, wiped the knife on the cut-off crusts to remove excess cream cheese, and prepared for the second cut. “Teach her? Teach her what?”

The hayburger on Cheerilee’s plate was untouched, its golden-brown bun as pristine as a desert sand dune. “Well … um, everything, pretty much. Everything she missed since the Pillars vanished. All the history, all the inventions, all the big cultural moments. All of it.”

The slice was perfect; the four halves of the sandwich were absolutely identical. Lyra nodded proudly and set down the knife. “Oof. Tall order. You gonna do it?”

Cheerilee inhaled to reply, but stopped short when Lyra suddenly buried her face in the plate and started loudly, messily devouring the sandwich. Cheerilee stared silently until half of the thing was gone before finding her voice again. “Wh-... Why didn’t you pick those up with magic?”

“Hmph…?” Lyra looked up and licked crumbs, cream cheese and a sliver of cucumber off her chops. “Oh, no way. Magic makes cream cheese taste funny.”

“Then why did you bother cutting it?”

“Are you kidding? I’m not some tacky slob, sheesh!” She snapped up the remaining chunks of ruined sandwich and then licked the smeared plate clean.

Cheerilee turned her attention from the squeaky sweeps of Lyra’s tongue to the simple golden wedding band sitting at the base of the Unicorn’s horn. She fidgeted in her seat. “So anyway, what’s new with you? How’s Bonnie?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Lyra chided with an accusatory hoof-wiggle. “You didn’t answer my question!”

“I don’t know…!” Cheerilee morosely snapped up the sour pickle spear sitting next to her burger, and chewed pensively before speaking on. “It’s a really unusual opportunity to flex my skills, but I haven’t taught anypony older than schoolfoals in YEARS. And I’m not … I mean, how can I …” She looked away. “Don’t you think a Pillar of Equestria deserves better? How can I teach history to somepony who MADE history? Who am I? Just some small-town schoolmare. What if I disappoint her? ”

“Aww. Hay.” Lyra reached out and gently chucked Cheerilee’s shoulder with a forehoof. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a schoolmare in the WEIRDEST town in Equestria. You lived through all of it. Nightmare Moon. Discord. The Cutie Mark Crusaders!”

Cheerilee struggled to keep frowning. “I spent the whole Discord crisis teaching a tomato garden to sing.”

“Hah! See? That just proves my point. Even when the world went crazy, you still kept teaching! You can DO this, Cheer. Totally. I say go for it.”

To avoid conceding the point, Cheerilee finally dug into her burger.

• • • • •

Full of lunch and uncertainty, Cheerilee trotted back home to pick up her guest for the second half of the day. She dipped her head to nudge the fence-gate open and called out: “Somnambula? I’m back!” She went inside, but no answer came. “Somnambula…?” She trotted out the far door into the back yard. “Are you-”

Cheerilee stumbled to a halt.

The Pillar of Hope was hovering in midair above the lawn, covered by the shade of a dark stormcloud and obscured by its sheeting rainfall … and nothing else. The Pegasus’s face was angled up into the spray, washing her viridian mane back like a tropical waterfall and drowning out her hostess’s approach. Her wings cast droplets in all directions with every wide, languid beat, and a few splashed down and blended with the anxious sweat suddenly dotting Cheerilee’s hide.

“I …” Cheerilee cleared her throat before trying again with a little more volume. “Somnambula? I’m back!”

Somnambula finally opened her eyes and noticed the arrival. “Ah! Hello again, Cheerilee the Teacher. I lost track of time.” She reached up with both wings to stroke the cloud with her pinions and urge its downpour to slow to a stop. She alighted on the grass and trotted closer, still bare and dripping. “Rain clouds are precious things in my homeland, and the notion of using so much water for washing was a luxury I couldn’t help but experience first hoof.”

“A lot of Pegasi around here take rain-showers. But in the desert you can’t, hmm?” Cheerilee looked to one side while quietly worrying that even her vivid hide might not be up to the task of hiding her latest blush.

“Never. At most, a water-bath is a royal indulgence or a medicated necessity. It is our custom most times to wash with dust.” She paused with a frown. “... Is something happening nearby?” She turned to follow Cheerilee’s averted gaze.

Cheerilee sat to wave away the confusion with her forelegs. “Ah…! N-No, sorry. I was just … I mean, I walked in on you bathing. You aren’t dressed …”

“Neither are you.”

The chuckle Cheerilee forced out gave forced chuckles a bad name. “Uh-huh-huh, true, yes, I guess not. But, I thought that in ancient times, Ponies wore clothes most of the time? I hope you don’t think we’re all being, you know, immodest?”

Somnambula laughed. Rich, melodious, sincere belly-laughs that shook more droplets off onto the emerald grass. “What a strange thing to say! What does modesty have to do with anything? Does my body seem … boastful?”

With visible effort, Cheerilee snapped her gaze back toward her guest and her casual, sodden nudity. “... Uh, maybe a little?” She shook her head to clear it. “Anyway, if you’re done, you can dry off and get dressed. It’s just about time for the lesson.”

“Certainly! I am eager to see you ply your trade, Cheerilee the Teacher!”

A few minutes later, Cheerilee tried to ignore the constantly rolling wave of stunned stares and awed whispers she and her guest rode on the way from her home to the schoolhouse. This was Ponyville, after all. Something with at least three heads would probably rampage through the street any minute, and the populace would forget she had a cornerstone of Equestrian history staying in her spare room…

“Well, ah, this is it,” Cheerilee said as the simple one-room building came into view. The assigned monitor was just hustling the few foals who’d taken the longest with lunch back inside for afternoon classes.

The Pillar trotted up to stand beside Cheerilee. She nodded. “With only Ponies and not as many other folk as the School of Friendship, I can see how a more … efficient … building could help with-”

Cheerilee cut her off. “It’s small.”

“Maybe a little.”

“First lesson,” Cheerilee said after a deep, cleansing breath. “Priorities have changed since your time.”

She led Somnambula inside, pausing to give an approving nod to the silver-maned, bespectacled filly in the monitor sash on the way.

The chattering class fell into a stunned silence as soon as they entered.

“Ah … as I said earlier today, this afternoon we’re going to have a special guest sitting in on the class. So let’s all be on our best behaviour and leave her be while we focus on learning, all right?”

The class took in the reasonable, polite proposal and considered it for a long, silent moment before completely disregarding it.

“I saw a statue of you in a museum!” one colt piped up.

“Can you make a sonic rainboom?” asked a filly to his right.

“How come you have eyes?” added another to his left. “I thought you didn’t have eyes!”

Somnambula offered a bemused chuckle and pressed down the questions with both front hooves. “Please, little ones. I am simply here to watch and listen - just like you. If you wish to know more about me, perhaps you should pay more attention to your teacher!”

A wave of motion swept through the students as they all whirled around to track Cheerilee’s trot to the front of the class. Several inquisitive hooves reached up, however.

“Questions later, and History later,” Cheerilee said in her firmest tone, “and only IF you pay attention in Geography!” Once the students were all settled with pencils gripped in brightly smiling jaws, she took one more deep breath and then tugged down a nation-scale map over the blackboard. “Now, then. Ponyville was founded with the blessing of Princess Celestia, who then lived in the capital on top of … anypony? Petunia - that’s right! Canterlot Mountain. The oldest nearby cities in Equestria mostly follow the east coastline, here, including Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and … anypony? Truffle - yes! Baltimare. Ponyville was part of the expansion into the Undiscovered West and especially the Mysterious South, where large areas of open territory still divided Canterlot from remote southern settlements like …” Cheerilee surveyed the classroom at large, and locked eyes with her guest. “... Somnambula.”

The Pillar smiled, softly and subtly, and nodded. Cheerilee nodded and smiled back with markedly less grace. When had the classroom gotten so quiet? The world seemed to shrink down to nothing but those decorated amethyst eyes and that calm, knowing smile. Finally, though, an imploring squeal snapped her from her daze:

“MISS CHEERILEE! I said, can I PLEASE use the privy? I gotta GO!” The little blue colt was squirming and bouncing in his seat.

“Oh…! Ah, yes, of course, you’re excused…”

Cheerilee flicked her tail and ears and gave her head a shake for good measure before resuming the lesson. She did her best to keep her eyes on task and off of her guest.

• • • • •

After the lesson, the siren-song of the school bell sent the foals stampeding out without a second thought about their illustrious guest.

Somnambula flew to the front of the classroom, wing-flaps stirring papers abandoned on desks. She hovered in front of the map and gingerly reached out a hoof to touch an unfamiliar place-name.

“The world has grown so much since we’ve been away,” she whispered. “In the new homeland … in Equestria … we’d scattered far and wide as a means to protect us from menaces like the Windigos. Hoping not to store all our rain in a single cloud. My kinfolk chose the desert for its vacant beauty, for the wonder of glowpaz crystals. But also, out of fear. And now …” She touched another new name. And another. “Now, Ponykind has reached out in every direction. We have conquered our fear. What was once broken is now whole.”

Cheerilee swallowed down a slight lump in her throat. “... Well said.”

“We missed so much, my friends and I.” Somnambula alighted, and turned to face Cheerilee. “I am glad to have seen your lesson. Your skills are indeed remarkable. That said, I worry I may have placed an undue burden on you, asking you to share so much, when you already tend to foals so prone to …”

The teacher chuckled. “Mayhem?”

Somnambula chuckled back. “Eagerness, let us say.” She took a step closer, and this time politeness left Cheerilee with no choice but to meet those piercing purple eyes. “If I have treated you unfairly, please - you must tell me so.”

“No, no … it’s okay.” Cheerilee stepped closer too. “I want to help. I do. Teaching is what my Cutie Mark is all about.” She turned slightly and nodded at the flowers marking her flank.

Somnambula squinted and then nodded. “So I see. Sacred tomb flowers. You are a protector of precious things.” Before Cheerilee could reply, the Pegasus half-turned as well and reached back a wing to tug up her gown and show her own Cutie Mark; a broad golden necklace. “Much like myself - this wesekh is an amulet of protection.”

They stood nose to tail now, side by side. “It’s … beautiful.” Cheerilee felt her face heating up. “I … I must say, I never thought of my flowers that way before. But I suppose there’s nothing more precious than foals …”

Once again, the world blurred and shrank. The quiet classroom grew quieter. Cheerilee heard her pulse thudding in her ears. She broke off, turning hard back toward the map and the blackboard, and the world came back into focus. “Uh…! But, a-anyway, like I said, I want to help. So, let’s get started? We do have plenty of ground to cover.” She glanced at the map. “Literally…!”

Somnambula’s dress dropped back down as she took a seat on the floor between rows of tiny desks. “By all means, Cheerilee the Teacher. Let us begin.”

A Waking Dream

The rest of the week passed in a whirlwind of activity. Between teaching her students and mentoring her guest, Cheerilee barely had a minute to spare, but it all came easily. Effortlessly.

On Wednesday, she introduced Somnambula to some other Pegasi, and a quick ascent in a borrowed hot-air balloon let her stay close by on a brief early-evening trip to Cloudsdale.

“Incredible,” Somnambula said as she took in the weightless, dusk-lit spires and columns. “To think that moisture is so plentiful that a whole city could be carved from the clouds!

Cloud Kicker, a local weather-smith, blushed purple on her lilac cheeks. “Aww, we do our best. It’s only possible thanks to this neat process we set up to force funnel-clouds over lakes at ground level.”

“Oh! Tell me more!” Somnambula flapped her wings quicker in excitement.

With her eyes locked on that sincere, almost foalish wonder, Cheerilee mistakenly leaned on the balloon’s burner pulley and sent herself lurching skyward.

• • • • •

On Thursday, the town’s Unicorns offered insights of their own. Somnambula flitted around the interior of a clocktower, and tracked the motions of pulleys and gears and springs.

She posed for a photograph portrait, and beckoned Cheerilee to join her. Once the flash went off and the plate was processed, the picture showed Somnambula’s dazzled eyes looking out at the viewer. Cheerilee’s, meanwhile, looked at Somnambula.

They visited a jewelcrafter, whose modern tools and magical techniques allowed for intricate and delicate works unlike any the Pillar had seen in her time.

“Oh, look!” Cheerilee said. “This amethyst pendant is the same colour as your eyes!” She brushed a hoof over the purple stone caged in a fine web of platinum wire.

“Then perhaps you should wear it, since I already have two of my own,” Somnambula said coyly, and batted her eyelashes.

Cheerilee tried to force another chuckle, but only a strained wheeze came out.

• • • • •

On Friday, a tour of the surrounding Earth Pony farmland showed lush, well-irrigated bounty that stretched out like an emerald ocean, out beyond the horizon.

“A lot of this land belongs to the Apple clan, but there’s more than enough space to go-” Cheerilee trailed off when she saw tears shining in Somnambula’s amethyst eyes. “... Are you okay?”

Somnambula nodded. “I’m sorry. Such plenty … it’s all a bit … overwhelming. In my homeland, the plants can only be coaxed to grow so lushly very close to the river delta. Here, it seems to go on forever. It’s beautiful …”

Cheerilee took in the sight of the graceful Pegasus standing at the crest of a hill, with the vast pastoral view laid out behind her and a gentle breeze rippling her sheer linen dress.

“Yeah … it r-really is …”

• • • • •

With the end of another school week, the pair toured the town at large, and let this or that building or business or landmark steer the ongoing lessons and conversation.

As they neared the market, Somnambula caught sight of the bookshop, and galloped ahead to explore what was on offer. Cheerilee left her to it, and opted for the candy shop across the street.

She effortlessly weaved through the weekend market-district crowds with her head and tail bobbing and a meandering hummed tune riding her every breath. When she breezed into the shop, the Earth Pony proprietor called her out in an instant.

“So …! Who’s the lucky Pony?”

The teacher popped from her reverie with a flick of her ears. “Huh…? What do you mean, Bonnie?”

Bon-Bon stopped polishing her glass countertop and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Just look at you. Expression, carriage, gait, even your tone of voice. You’re ABSOLUTELY infatuated with somepony.”

“I see.” Cheerilee offered a raised eyebrow right back. “Do ALL candy-makers have such refined social observation and profiling skills?”

Bon-Bon cleared her throat. “...Yes.”

After a short pause, Cheerilee let out a playful chuckle. “All right, all right. There, ah, there MAY be somepony new in my life. But it’s not like that! She’s just a student.” Cheerilee tensed and then added: “An ADULT student.” She heaved a sigh. “And I don’t know if she’s- gosh, I don’t even know if I’M …”

“Hay.” Bon-Bon offered the calm, confident smile that so often helped pull her sometimes-scattered wife back down to earth. “Listen. Let me share a top secret … candy-maker … technique with you, hmm?” She gestured Cheerilee forward and leaned over the counter conspiratorially.

Cheerilee trotted forward and obligingly craned her neck to lead with one ear.

The mare’s voice dropped to a breathless whisper. “What you need to do is …” All at once she was shouting at full volume. “...TALK TO HER!”

“Ahgh!” Cheerilee staggered back until her rump bumped into a free-standing gumball machine. The thing toppled, and Cheerilee scrambled to keep it upright with moves somewhere between pratfall and solo ballroom dance. “It’s … not that simple!” She cradled the fallen machine in a deep tango-dip.

“Pretty sure it is,” Bon-Bon countered from behind the counter. “Lyra sat next to me on a park bench every day for something like two weeks before she worked up the courage to try talking to me. And the next DAY after she did, we were dating.”

The tall, top-heavy dispenser refused to stay upright. Cheerilee reared up to brace its wobbling. “That’s different. This is a legendary heroine we’re talking about! Who am I to just …? And what if she…?”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Bon-Bon stepped out from behind the counter and trotted up to nudge the machine back upright with one gentle tap of a sand-coloured hoof. “Give it a try, Cheer. Somnambula seems like a really nice mare.”

Cheerilee frowned. “Did Lyra tell you about her? Or do you keep tabs on all the VIPs who come to Ponyville?”

“Candy-maker trade secret.” That calm, subtly playful smile flashed out again. “Also, she’s right behind you!”

Somnambula hovered into the doorway with a blocky paper parcel hugged to her chest. “They had an atlas, and an encyclopedia, AND an herbal!” she exclaimed in delight.

“Wonderful!” Cheerilee turned - careful to avoid the gumball machine this time - and then nodded back over her shoulder. “I was just getting some sweets from Bon-Bon, here. Would you like to try one?” She went back to the counter, hastily picked out a box of sugared preserved-fruit chews, and traded it for a few coins from her saddlebags.

As soon as Cheerilee held out the box, Somnambula happily nodded and plucked one up with her lips, and then Cheerilee did likewise. Somnambula hummed in approval as she chewed. “Mmm…!” She swallowed. “Is this a date?”

Cheerilee choked on her candy. Bon-Bon smirked.

Once she finished coughing and panting, Cheerilee looked down into the candy box for answers. “I’m … not sure. I’ve never had one like this before.”

“Sounds tricky!” Bon-Bon piped up from the counter. “Maybe you should talk about it!” Her finely honed candy-maker reflexes helped her duck Cheerilee’s thrown candy box.

• • • • •

A few minutes later, Cheerilee led Somnambula on a casual trot through the pond-side park. They stopped on one of the bridges over the meandering creek, and pony-watched for a while.

“I’ve told you so much already about how things changed in a thousand years,” she said as a trio of foals chased a ball and then piled into a giggling tumble down a small hill, “but I wanted to ask - what stands out to YOU? Apart from inventions, have Ponies changed? Do we still seem familiar to you?”

“As I said the other day, you are less afraid. I have heard of Princess Twilight’s exploits. They rival any heroic adventures from my time. These have been dark days, full of peril. And yet …” Somnambula watched the youths playing. Their smiling caretakers approached the group at a casual walk.

“Maybe we’re just used to all the chaos at this point?” Cheerilee replied with a small chuckle. “History never seems as epic when you’re in the middle of it. I’m sure we’re not any braver than Ponies from your era.”

The Pegasus smiled. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Cheerilee looked down at her reflection in the little brook, and took a slow, deep breath. She gave her other self a resolute nod, and then turned to face her guest. “Hay, um … there’s something else.” She could barely be heard over the happy park-goers. She tried to speak up. “I … I need to tell you-”

At the base of the little hill, the two stallions laughed with the trio of gleeful foals, and then shared an affectionate neck-nuzzle with each other.

And Somnambula frowned.

“This is absolutely not the world I left behind,” Somnambula said gravely. “In the time of my forebears, when our future hung in the balance, such unions were deemed forbidden. Obscene.” She noticed Cheerilee’s mid-sentence freeze, and her frown flowed to a look of concern. “Ah, but my apologies. You were saying?”

Cheerilee took a quick, sharp breath and swallowed hard. A lump in her throat dropped down into her stomach. “It’s … it’s nothing. Never mind.” She took off at a brisk trot. “Let’s go. I think the marsh-grass is giving me a-allergies.” She sniffled, eyes stinging.

The walk toward home was silent for a minute, and then two, before Somnambula spread her wings and swooped in a high arc to alight blocking Cheerilee’s path. “Please,” she said with a raised hoof. “What is the matter?”

“I told you, it’s nothing.” Cheerilee sucked in another half-hissed breath, as if she could pull back feelings as easily as air. When that failed, she stopped trotting. “I’m … just not sure I can keep doing this with you. I’m sorry.”

Somnambula gasped. “If I have somehow offended you, then please, accept my-”

“It’s not you…!” Cheerilee snapped. “It’s ME, okay?” She hung her head. “It’s me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Cheerilee kept her eyes downcast so the words would come. “You’re … amazing. You’re wise, and idealistic, and gentle, and beautiful, and even though you’re from the age of legends everything is a wonder to you.” Cheerilee felt her cheeks burn and her eyes well up. Her dark hide wouldn’t be enough to hide behind this time. “You’ve made me remember everything I love about teaching, and you didn’t even try. And I repaid you by … getting all stupid-eyed for you!”

A smooth pinion touched a trailing tear on Cheerilee’s cheek. “I am sorry … ‘getting all …?’”

Cheerilee finally looked up. “I LIKE you, okay?” Her bottom lip trembled. “I really like you! You make me feel like a giddy filly!” She looked aside. The tears flowed freely now. “I keep trying to focus on lessons, but every time I look at you, you’re all I can think about. All of my friends pushed me to tell you, but now that I have I can SEE how ridiculous I’m being. You’re a Pillar of Equestria, and older than the Royal Pony Sisters. Your time was different, and you were a legend in it. And I’m here, acting like I could EVER even TRY to live up to all that. Like you’d just change who and what you are on my account …” She sniffled again, struggling to get her breathing under control.

Somnambula put a hoof to Cheerilee’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry …”

“I know!” Cheerilee’s shoulders heaved. “Of course you are! Because even with all that you’re still this understanding, together, incredible mare, and I’m … I’m just …!” A shiver ran through her. “For Celestia’s sake, who am I to-”

Both front hooves cupped Cheerilee’s warm, tear-streaked cheeks. Somnambula stared deep into the Earth Pony’s pained, glowpaz-coloured eyes.

“You are Cheerilee the Teacher.” The Pillar of Hope leaned in and cut off any chance to reply with a firm, deep kiss.

Cheerilee’s eyes shot wide, and then fluttered closed, and then shot wide all over again. She drew back, breathless, and stumbled to stay upright. “B-But I thought you just said … you’re sorry … and in your time … such …?”

“I am, and they were,” Somnambula said with a nod. “I am sorry I ever made you feel so inadequate, when you have helped me find my way in this grand new world. And yes, in my time, such attitudes were the way of things … but they were never MY way.”

She reached out with hooves and wings to pull Cheerilee into a close embrace. “In my heart, I never gave up hope that someday Ponykind would rise above our fears, and accept love in all its forms. Your warmth and kindness helped that hope to flourish.” She leaned to offer cloud-soft kisses to Cheerilee’s neck and cheek, delicately over her shining eyes, and then down for another kiss, this time salted with tears. Cheerilee sobbed and laughed and kissed back, urgently. Gratefully. Passionately. Somnambula spread her wings, and they both hovered off the ground, alone together in a world of their own.

Across the pond, Berry Punch and her foal paused their stroll at the sight of the pair.

“Whoa,” said the little filly. “What happened?”

Berry smiled and nodded. “Looks like my cousin’s dreaming bigger after all.”

That earned a pause, and a frown. “What does that even MEAN?”

THE END