As an alicorn, Opaline’s senses stood far above those of mere ponies. Even that pretender Sunny Starscout could never imagine the near-omniscient perception guiding Opaline ever forwards to her inevitable conquest of Equestria. It was one of the most important lessons she taught to Misty – she wasn’t owed dominion merely for being an alicorn, but because being an alicorn made her the best. As the last real alicorn, Opaline was obviously the strongest, wisest, and loveliest creature in the land, with the natural responsibility and right to rule the lesser races.
No sooner had she pulled up her sleep mask than her superior arcane sense sounded a warning in her mind. Something was wrong.
She could not smell pancakes.
“Misty!” Opaline called, not moving from her covers. “Why haven’t you started breakfast yet!?”
No reply came forth, setting her to irate grumbling. Opaline adored waking up to the smell of her breakfast being cooked. Had Misty forgotten?
She raised a hoof thoughtfully to her chin, letting the grumbles fall silent. No, Misty wouldn’t forget something so important. Nor was she at a sleepover – she needed permission for those. Maybe a spy mission had kept her out late, and she overslept?
“Well that’s hardly a good excuse, now is it? Misty!”
Again, no answer. Opaline rolled her eyes with as much drama as she could muster at this early hour, with no lovely smells to help lure her from the warm bed.
“I really should get a second minion,” she mused. “They could keep each other on their hooves. But ugh, there’s no way I can be hiring in this economy.”
And besides, such decisions needed her already out of bed. She stood and shivered in the crisp morning air. A cold snap had turned the autumn night to winter. One of the many things she would outlaw when she was queen.
“Misty!” Opaline strode to the kitchen, noting with disdain the young girl hadn’t even filled the teapot. “Misty, the True Alicorn demands your presence!”
Frustrated and already hungry, Opaline opened a bag of chips and ate a few hoof-fulls as she waited. When silence still served the only answer, she set them down with a huff and stormed to Misty’s room.
“Ooh, if you were up watching TikTrot again I am going to start regulating your...”
The smell caught her words as she opened the door. Stale sweat and something a bit less pleasant. Misty wasn’t so much a unicorn as a tiny bundle of misery, peering out from her curls and surrounded by a ring of crumpled tissues. She shivered, pulling the damp blankets tightly around her.
Opaline strode in with cool annoyance. “Misty, what is this? Are you sad?”
“No, Miss Opaline.” Misty’s perky voice emerged garbled and moist. She gave a cough that seemed to use her whole chest, then flipped open her covers with a heated gasp. “I think I’m sick.”
Opaline wandered a step closer. She peered into a waste can by the bed, winced, and took two steps back.
“What is… ‘sick?’” Opaline asked. “This is a lesser-race thing, isn’t it?”
Misty shivered and yanked the blanket back around her. She sniffed wetly. “You don’t know? I thought you knew everything.”
“Everything important enough for an alicorn,” Opaline corrected.
Misty moaned lowly, pushing her face into the pillow. “My head hurts… I’m sorry, I don’t know how to explain it.”
Opaline frowned at her usually-attentive minion. “Well, how do you fix it?”
“Medicine, or… something? I’m sorry, this hasn’t come up while I was with my fr-I mean when I was spying on them.”
“Do we have any medicine?”
“I don’t think so. There are different kinds of sick that need different medicines.”
“Goodness, ponies these days need even their diseases personalized.” Opaline groaned dramatically. “Well. You’re no good to me like this, that’s for sure. I’ll have Misty go and pick up some medicine so you can...”
...Right.
“Ugh, if my full magic was returned I could heal you in an instant.” Cold settled in Opaline’s stomach as soon as she said it. Reminders of her weakness were always unwelcome, but this one somehow crept out, brushing a bare bit of numbness to her limbs as she took in the miserable little pony on the bed. Misty turned her head to the side, showing her red and scraped snoot already dribbling with its next load of snot.
The feeling was uncomfortable, so Opaline looked away.
Her horn glowed. Not all her magic was gone, mind, and she was still the alicorn of flame and heat. Glittery purple magic overtook Misty’s bed, drying out the damp sheets and pillows.
To Misty, it was as though a pleasant warmth had overtaken her, countering both the chill and fever she had endured all night. She opened her eyes to see Opaline firmly facing the door.
“I need you healthy if you are to to help me take over Equestria,” the regal alicorn announced. “Gather your strength. We’ll need to make up for lost time once I get you some medicine.”
Opaline had faced many foes in her ageless centuries: arrogant rivals, fake alicorns, and monsters. Her life had been in danger countless times across battles and duels made all the more desperate by her depleted power. None, however, so nearly quailed her infinite alicorn courage as the words which sounded as she came to the city.
“Hi, welcome to Maretime Bay!”
A pony.
A pony talking to her.
She stood under the entry arch of Maretime Bay, watching the press of ponykind on the streets in a brief, silent battle with what for a lesser race would be called ‘panic.’
Opaline hated leaving the castle. She felt vulnerable. Naked, even, and not just because she left her jewelry behind to blend in. Her castle had wards and spells placed over the course of long husbanding of her limited magic. Out here, there was nothing to save her if they learned who she really was.
They. The ponies.
Ponies on the screen were fine. She could turn it off if they were annoying. She could make sure they were always funny. And Misty was fine too, of course. She bowed and cooked pancakes, which ponies are supposed to do.
“Welcome! Are you here visiting somepony?”
The strange mare asked it with a wide, friendly smile.
Alicorn instincts kicked in at once. Opaline opened her mouth and emitted a sonic noise that stunned her would-be interrogator, opening the way for a quick retreat down an alley. Inglorious, yes, but her day had not yet come.
Opaline gave herself an extra moment in the shadowed space, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. A purely tactical move, of course. She was not afraid. Why would she be? Her disguise was foalproof. No one would recognize her without her crown, and the cloak over her back hid her wings.
All the same, the mare was clearly wary enough to ask such a probing question. Opaline would have to be careful. And fast – the sooner she got some medicine, the sooner she could leave this city and all its extroverted ponies.
“Act natural, Opaline,” she coached herself, emerging cautiously from the other end of the alley. “Remember, wars and conversations are won by those who take the initiative and attack. “Don’t be asked questions, ask them yourself! Make them think they are the ones under suspicion!”
But she would have to pick the right target. She saw a few ponies down the street and looked away. They would just back each other up, she would have to find someone alone and vulnerable.
Fortunately, right outside the alley was the purple back half of a pony burying their face in a dumpster, neatly ticking off both categories.
Opaline approached and cleared her throat, speaking loudly to be heard over the rummaging within. “Greetings, fellow normal pony! I am looking for a store where I can buy medicine for ‘sick.’ Or a vending machine which can do the same, that would be better.”
A unicorn head popped out of the dumpster with horn speared on a large wad of...matter. Oddly her rear end remained hooked on the edge, giving impression she had somehow snaked her body into a complete turn to present Opaline with both her tail and face.
Curiosity bid Opaline take a step forward to see how she did it, and the impulse was resisted. Some things were better unknown.
“Sorry!” The young mare chimed. “I’m not a normal pony, I’m Izzy.”
“Yes, I see.”
“But I can still help you with directions!”
“That would be lovely,” Opaline said.
Izzy pointed with a miraculously-clean hoof towards a building right across from the alley. Above its door hung a red cross in neon lights with the words “Flo’s Pharmacy.”
“That place is great,” Izzy said. “Whenever Sunny gives me money I love spending it there on balloons and candy.”
“Balloons and candy at a medicine store?”
Izzy chortled. “Du-uh! What if you need to cure sadness or low blood sugar? The candy is especially important, since you can’t usually find it in the trash.”
“Good point,” Opaline demurred, if only to move the uncomfortable conversation onward. “Do you, ah, often look for candy in the trash?”
Wavy blue hair bobbed as Izzy shook her head. “Not really. Sometimes I did when I was a kid, but most of the time I was too busy looking for food.”
“I see. Thank you very much.”
“No problem, Opaline!”
Giggling, Izzy unhooked herself and leaped butt-first back into the dumpster.
Opaline stomped heavily to the storefront, grumbling and fighting down nausea as the garbage smell lingered around her.
“These ponies really are savages without an alicorn to lead them. Fillies rooting through dumpsters, it’s so unhygienic! When I am queen there will be none of that allowed. Poor ponies will get food deliveries or a stipend for the markets, or something else to stop that filthy habit in my kingdom.”
A further thought struck her, and malicious glee tugged up the edges of her lips. “I can practically see them, standing dejectedly around their trash barrels clutching boring old stipend cards. And I’ll be all, ‘Too bad, so sad, dumpster diving is banned forever!’ Mwa-ha-haaaaa!”
Opaline abruptly closed her mouth. No more evil laughing until she was home safe.
A bell above the door rang as she pushed it open. Inside… well, it was like no medicine shop she had ever seen. No pedestals and unguents on the counters, no jars of bat wings, no amputation tables. Medicine had clearly decayed along with everything else in this forsaken world. Instead she was greeted with pristine rows of beauty products, candy, toys, soft drinks…
And a green, middle-aged mare in a white lab coat and plastic glasses. “Hi, welcome to Flo’s Pharmacy! I’m Flo Pharmacist, how can I help you?”
“Hello,” Opaline said. “I am looking for medicine, but as you deal in farms I seem to be in the wrong place.”
The mare smiled in a kindly way. “Not farms. Pharmacy! And other things, as you see. Most pharmacies double as convenience stores these days. We have our medicines down this aisle, I’ll show you.”
Opaline followed her trod, coming to a row of shelves holding what passed for medicine. There were bottles of unappetizing liquids, at least, which was a staple of healthcare in any time. Each were wrapped in labels with bizarre names and warnings which took microscopes to read.
“I’m sure we have what you need, Miss...”
“Op–” Opaline caught herself after the first sound.
The mare tilted her head. “Hope?”
“Yes, exactly that thing you said.”
“What a lovely name,” Flo said. “What do you need the medicine for, Miss Hope?”
Opaline reclaimed her mental footing, chiding herself for the near-miss. No more. Certainly, she couldn’t admit it was for her minion.
“I have a sick filly at home,” Opaline said vaguely.
“The poor sweetie! How old is she?”
Horseapples. Opaline’s eyes flew around in a rapid search for inspiration. Her gaze reached a cereal box in the adjacent aisle, on which a burly cartoon tiger assured the viewer its contents were ‘GREAT!’
“Great. I mean, eight.”
Flo looked at her curiously. “Is she home by herself right now?”
Opaline gave a nonchalant shrug. “No choice. It’s just us two.”
Flo cringed backwards. “Ah. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
Maintaining her casual air, Opaline picked up one of the medicine bottles. ‘Bismuth subsalicylate.’ Magic words meant to enhance the ingredients, no doubt.
“It’s not a dramatic story,” she said, hoping to head off further questions with more vague honesty. “Just the usual parent things, you know? In my travels I came upon a campsite and found her a mere babe, the lone survivor of a timber-wolf attack. There really wasn’t any choice but to take her with me.”
Sensing the chance for a little propaganda, Opaline cleared her throat and spoke louder. “If only we had a mighty queen who would stop such tragedies!”
...Actually, was it still propaganda if it was true? Any monster who threatened her future subjects would be burned to a crisp. Otherwise, she would run out of subjects.
Opaline turned back to Flo and startled at the mare’s expression. She stared at Opaline with an open mouth, and blue eyes wide with heartfelt pity.
“You dears, both of you!” Flo sobbed. “Let’s get you back to her as soon as we can. What do you need?”
“Medicine.”
“For what?”
“For sickness.”
They looked at each other a second before Flo sighed. “Let’s try this: what are her symptoms?”
“Tired, runny nose, headache, sweating...” Opaline recalled the trash can and winced. “Vomiting.”
“A lot or a little?” Flo asked.
“A little, thankfully.”
“No orange spots? Bloodshot eyes? Intense fruit craving?”
“No, none of that.”
“I see.” Flo smiled gently. “It sounds like she just has a stomach bug. We can get you some medicine to help the symptoms, but what she really needs are fluids and love.”
Opaline nodded. “Very good. We have the fluids at home. Do you have any love in stock?”
Flo laughed into her hoof. “No, silly. Love comes from the heart!”
More complications, but Opaline was nothing if not adaptable. “Understood. Do you sell the hearts here, or do I have to harvest my own?”
She paused. “Do unicorn hearts work better for it? There was one outside, I could–”
“Of course not, you joker!” Flo laughed again, though it was a bit strained. “It comes from your heart. You give it by keeping her warm and comfortable, by bringing her juice and soup, and by letting your daughter know she is special to you.”
The chill returned to Opaline’s stomach the moment she said the D-word – a vague sense of cold emptiness, teasing up into her mind with messy feelings she never cared to consider.
“N-no,” Opaline fumbled with her words. “I told you, she’s not really my daughter.”
Flo’s eyes twinkled, clearly thinking she understood. Clearly mistaken. “Parenthood is more than just birth, Miss Hope. You care for her and want to do what’s best for her. That makes you a mother in my book.”
‘But do you care?’ the cold feeling whispered in the back of Opaline’s mind. ‘This morning you were angry over pancakes.’
She forced down the thoughts instantly. She was an alicorn, which meant she was perfect. Self-doubt was self-contradictory.
Sternly informing herself that she was just manipulating the mare to end the conversation, Opaline cast her gaze to the side. “Maybe so. Can you get me the medicine for her symptoms? I should get back home as… as soon as I can.”
She paid silently with her few modern bits, more thoughts crowding upon her. Flo had seemed hesitant on learning Misty was home alone, but that was silly. Misty wasn’t really eight, she was… whatever, everything was fine.
So long as she’s strong enough to get up to the bathroom.
The bell jingled as Opaline left.
And that she hasn’t gotten any worse.
Opaline began trotting briskly for home.
What if her fever is out of control? What if she’s needed water the whole time I was out, getting weaker and weaker...
Her hooves clattered on the cobblestones as Opaline broke into a run, shoving or leaping over the commoners in her way.
The panting, sweating Opaline mentally kicked herself on arriving back at the castle. Misty was asleep, safe and sound.
Maybe not ‘sound.’ Her room was a smelly mess, even more so than this morning. Her tiny waste can was now a cesspool of used tissues and… other things, not all of which made it perfectly into the metal frame.
Opaline inhaled, about to order Misty to clean it up.
She released the breath as a sigh.
No help for it: no room in her beautiful castle could be left in such a state. Opaline emptied and washed the waste can, moving quietly so as not to disturb Misty’s slumber. She policed the other trash in the room, then again used a bit of her weakened magic to heat and dry the bedding.
Just like before, Misty relaxed into the warmth with an audible sigh. Her eyes drowsily blinked open above an adorable freckled smile.
The feeling returned – not as cold as before, but like an uncomfortable heat in Opaline’s chest. Her throat somehow felt full, a feeling only mitigated by a thick gulp and hasty retreat from the room.
She stormed to the kitchen, growling at the injustice. “It isn’t fair. She’s the one who’s sick, so why do I feel bad?”
Her course was clear. The sooner this silly illness passed, the better. That meant curing Misty, which apparently meant… love. Flo’s instructions were easy, at least: juice, soup, warmth. One down, two to go.
While Opaline’s culinary skills had… not yet reached a state of inevitable alicorn perfection, the kitchen wasn’t completely outside her grasp. Instant meals and bagged snacks were a staple when Misty was out on missions, and canned soup over their stove came easily enough. Soon the pleasing, salty aroma of tofu noodle soup was bubbling happily from the pot. Opaline only had one bed table (her own), and so put the bowl there along with glasses of juice and water. Adding a few crackers for good measure made for a cozy little meal, and pride at her handiwork restored Opaline’s good mood. Humming her theme song, she trotted back up and let herself in Misty’s room.
The girl was sitting in bed, looking better than before if still considerably worse for wear. Maybe the fever left her a bit dazed, because her jaw dropped on seeing the food. Her wide green eyes flicked between Opaline and the tray as though utterly confused what was going on.
Opaline set the food over her lap and put one hoof on Misty’s forehead and one on her own. “You are still burning up, aren’t you? Let’s get you the medicine first.”
A few pills for the fever, then a tablespoon of an unwholesome pink concoction for the stomach. Misty ate slowly but with evident relish, closing her eyes some minutes later as she drank the last of the soup. She sighed happily as it went down, capping it with a little belch.
“Manners,” Opaline chided lowly, using her magic to dab at a little juice on Misty’s chin. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much better than before,” Misty said, though her smile wasn’t quite as large as normal. “Still not great. The soup was so good, can I have some more?”
Opaline glanced to the waste can. “Maybe see if you can keep this down, first.”
Misty snuggled back into a prone position, humming a little to herself. “Okay. I think I just got to sleep when you came back, I’m going to try to rest some more.”
“I’ll be back to check on you later,” Opaline said, then reminded herself it was just because she didn’t have any other minions to do it.
“Um...”
Misty said it, then shrunk back. Opaline simply waited, well-used to the girl’s awkwardness.
“Can you tell me a story?”
Opaline glanced to the side. “Misty, you know that I only know one story.”
“That’s okay.”
Opaline hadn’t told Misty that story since her childhood. It was a useful combination of education and entertainment for the little filly to learn the truth of the world, but Misty surely now knew it by heart. A waste of time.
Yet Flo’s instructions returned to her mind. There was one more thing, wasn’t there? Warmth, juice, soup… and letting Misty know she is special.
“Very well.”
The fullness in Opaline’s throat returned, and she swallowed. Misty released a tiny ‘squee,’ spreading the uncomfortable warmth from Opaline’s ears to her stomach. Silly notions intruded upon her mind of sweeping Misty into an embrace.
Not an appropriate behavior to a minion at all. Even a precious one. Instead of that, Opaline told the story.
“Once upon a time, there was the prettiest, most talented alicorn in all the land. Even among the other perfect alicorns, she was wise, strong, and beautiful, and ponies journeyed from all over just to make her pancakes or kiss her hoof. Such was her greatness that the other alicorns became jealous. They stopped inviting her to parties, and complimented each other while inventing reasons to tear her down. As the greatest alicorn she was supposed to become queen of Equestria, but they lied and cheated until even the lesser ponies were turned against her. She was forced to flee, but in truth the other alicorns destroyed themselves, for without her wise guidance they lost all magic and allowed the tribes to be split asunder. The alicorns left the world in shame, but the best of them remained, hidden until the day when her magic would be returned. And when that day comes, all the ponies will again be united with her as their queen.”
That was the end.
Misty’s eyes were closed. Her peaceful smile and steady breaths made her seem to be asleep.
“And of course...” Opaline continued the story, surprising even herself. “Of course, her most loyal minion will be by her side. And when the alicorn reclaims control over all magic, the very first thing she will do is give her precious Misty a wonderful cutie mark, just as she deserves.”
Feeling a blush deep beneath her maroon face, Opaline stood abruptly to leave, only then realizing she had laid her wing over Misty’s blanket.
“Can my mark be a butterfly?”
Opaline froze. Misty cracked open an eye.
“I don’t know many butterflies,” Opaline admitted. “I just know the monarch. Will a monarch be… no, wait, you can’t have a monarch, that’s me. You’ll have to… show me what kind of butterfly you want. Then yes, of course.”
The full throat was making it hard to speak. Opaline departed, eyes staring, struggling to contemplate why it felt so good.
Not really a mare with great imagination, Opaline fed Misty more soup and crackers that evening. The still-weak Misty did feel well enough to go downstairs and watch some soap operas with her before stumbling back to bed, thence to sleep for the rest of the night.
Misty felt even better the next morning, marveling that for once it was Opaline waking her up. She heard the hummed theme song from down the hall, and wondered if it would be soup again for breakfast.
When the tray came down, she wished it was. The pale, bubbly slabs before her were too thick and undercooked to even remotely be called ‘pancakes.’
But Opaline looked so… proud that Misty tried. She really did, but only got down half of one before an ominous lurch in her stomach reminded she was not far removed from barfing out everything.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “These are really bad.”
“You are mistaken, Misty. I am an alicorn. They are perfect.”
To prove her point, Opaline took a large, slimy forkful and shoved it in her mouth. Her eyes shot wide, and only long practice let Misty hide her amusement as Opaline trembled, grimaced, then audibly gulped the morsel down.
“Perfect,” Opaline announced. Misty let a giggle slip out.
Opaline coughed and tilted her head back, fixing Misty with a regal stare. “However, I understand your commoner pony palette may not appreciate the subtle brilliance of alicorn cooking. Perhaps...”
The mask slipped. Unable to both speak and police her expression, Opaline gave a shy smile. “Perhaps tomorrow you can teach me how to make pancakes like you do it, and we can make them together.”
Misty launched herself upwards, almost knocking over the tray as she wrapped her hooves around Opaline, burying her face into the queen’s generous floof. The body in her grip tensed, then relaxed slowly. And with her eyes hidden, Misty could only feel the warm wings fall across her back.
Author's Note
Author’s notes:
-Opaline is my favorite part of G5, owing to both her ham-villain entertainment and that wonderful solo episode. While the most likely ‘real’ story is that she’s a gaslighting bastard (all the more likely from recent spoilers as to Misty’s family), I think there is at least the possibility of a kinder explanation: that she really does believe her own propaganda, and teaches it to Misty because she genuinely feels it is right. Opaline Alone painted an amusing image of her as a shut-in weirdo, which is of course what we’re going for here. AU tag is in place because, regrettably, I do admit it is more likely she’ll end up ‘actually that bad.’
-Opaline’s theme song is a banger.
-I had a few better ideas for a pharmacist pony name, but wanted to keep the ‘E’ rating on this one and they wouldn’t have fit.
Thank you for reading!
