Distance
A My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic fanfiction by Friendly Uncle
(This fanfic is a work of affectionate parody and in no way seeks to claim ownership of the characters or situations presented herein. My Little Pony and all associated characters and ideas are the legal property of Hasbro Inc. This fanfiction is intended purely for stupid fun and generates no revenue for the author and probably couldn’t even if I wanted to. Really this entire thing is kind of a dumb idea and probably should never be taken seriously by anybody. Fluttershy is best pony.)
Part 1
Three Months Ago
“... wow,” said Fluttershy, “the princess can dance.”
“Never thought I’d see a pony that could cut a rug like Pinkie Pie,” agreed Applejack, a note of awe creeping into her voice, “but that pegacorn can bust a move.”
True to their words, Princess Celestia was currently dominating the dance floor that had been set up in the Apple family’s barn. High above them Pinkie Pie’s disco ball spun lazily, scattering spots of light around the room and dappling Celestia’s porcelain body with color. The princess was shaking her groove thing in time to a quick party beat while Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash gyrated and twirled beside her. The three mares laughed breathlessly as they jumped and pranced to the rhythm.
“Alicorn,” said Twilight in a distracted tone of voice.
“Huh?”
“The proper technical term for Princess Celestia’s tribe is ‘alicorn’,” said the scholar, never taking her eyes off of said alicorn’s bouncing body. “But they prefer to just go by ‘princess’. Since all known alicorns are female and royalty the two terms have become more or less synonymous.”
Rarity walked up beside the other unicorn, two cups of punch levitating beside her and a frown on her muzzle. Applejack and Fluttershy each glanced at Rarity and then recoiled at the sight of her scowl. The white unicorn forcibly changed her expression into a neutral smile and levitated one of the cups in front of Twilight’s face. “Punch?”
“Huh?” Twilight blinked, eyes crossing as she focused on the cup in front of her. “Oh, thank you Rarity.”
She took the punch within the grasp of her own magic and drained it in one go. Rarity sipped her own drink and sidled up to Twilight, pressing her side comfortingly against her friend’s. Fluttershy moved in from the other side and gingerly put a wing over Twilight’s withers.
“You know dear,” said Rarity, “I’m sure the princess would understand if you felt you needed to leave.”
Twilight blinked, glancing from Rarity to Fluttershy, and then to Applejack. All three ponies wore identical expressions of concern.
“You didn’t tell us exactly how your talk last night worked out,” said Applejack, “but you don’t have to, really. And if you’re upset you don’t need to hold it in.”
“We’re here for you if you need to talk about it,” whispered Fluttershy, barely audible over the dance music. “And Princess Celestia is really nice, I’m sure she would understand if you didn’t... want to see her right now.”
“Oh.” Twilight looked down for a moment, idly turning the empty punch cup in front of herself. “I appreciate it girls, really. But I’m actually not all that upset.”
She paused, frowned a little, and glanced back up at her friends. Her ears laid back in annoyance as Applejack suddenly found a very interesting point on the ceiling to stare at that coincidentally meant she didn’t need to meet Twilight’s gaze. Rarity actually rolled her eyes, though her smile was still sympathetic. Fluttershy just patted her gently on the shoulder like she would have done to an injured bunny. Twilight sighed.
“No, really. Celestia and I had a... a nice discussion. She let me talk it out, then she explained how she felt about the situation, and we came to a satisfactory resolution. It’s a bit of a relief, honestly. I actually feel a lot better now.”
“But... you were so upset before,” said Fluttershy as Applejack and Rarity traded sceptical looks. “You were actually kind of scaring us a little.”
“Yeah, we didn’t really want to say anything at the time,” muttered Applejack, rubbing her foreleg with the other hoof, “but some of the stuff you told us about in your diary there was pretty creepy.”
“... it’s a personal research log,” grumbled Twilight, “not a diary. ” She propelled the punch cup over her shoulder and glared down at the floor.
“We’re not trying to embarrass you Twilight,” said Rarity, giving her a friendly bump with her haunch. “We’re just worried about you and we want you to understand that you can talk to us about anything.”
“Exactly,” said Applejack, “you don’t have to worry about us thinkin’ you’re weird or whatever. I’m sure we’ve all done things we’re embarrassed about when we had a crush on somepony, right Fluttershy?”
The yellow pegasus froze, eyes widening. “I have? Why me? What have you heard!?”
The other three ponies exchanged slightly worried glances. They were saved from having to respond by Rainbow Dash landing atop Applejack, who let out a short yelp before craning her neck around to glare at the sweaty pegasus. Rainbow grinned and booped her nose.
“What are you guys nickering about over here? Get on the dance floor! Remember we’ve gotta wear Pinkie down before she’ll let us go home!”
“Alright sugarcube,” chuckled Applejack, “let’s hoof it. Come on gals.”
She sauntered out onto the dance floor. Rainbow hopped off of her back and into the air, and Fluttershy followed them both. Twilight started after them, then blinked when she noticed Pinkie was dancing by herself. A second later she made a shrill “Waugh!” noise in surprise as Celestia landed behind her, panting.
“Twilight!” she laughed, pausing to hug the little unicorn between neck and wing, “are you alright? You’re not dancing!”
“I’m fine,” Twilight chuckled, returning the embrace,“just talking. Do you want to dance with me?”
“Let me get some punch first,” said Celestia, straightening up and turning towards the refreshment table, “I haven’t had a chance to do this in a while. I’ve forgotten how thirsty it makes you. Be right back!”
Celestia trotted off towards the table, leaving a grinning Twilight to follow the princess with her eyes. She blushed, then turned back to her friends. Everypony else was already on the dance floor and moving in time with the music. Except for Rarity, who was watching Applejack dance with Rainbow with a small frown on her muzzle. She glanced in Twilight’s direction, and then forced a smile when she caught the other unicorn watching her.
“Are you okay?” asked Twilight, not unkindly.
“I’m fine dear,” said Rarity, her smile becoming more genuine. “And if you promise that you are...”
Twilight nodded.
“Then I’ll trust you to come to us when you need to,” Rarity finished, giving her a quick nuzzle. “Come on, the night is still young is it not? Let’s show the girls how proper ladies cut a rug.”
Twilight laughed and followed her, glancing back to the refreshment table. Celestia paused in the act of demolishing a plate of cookies and a glass of punch to give the lavender unicorn a meaningful wink. Twilight felt her cheeks grow warm beneath her fur as she returned the gesture before turning to follow Rarity, tail flicking back and forth as she felt Celestia’s eyes on her.
She really was okay. Her friends would find out why soon enough.
-
This Morning
“And now we lower the heat just enough to keep the water at a boil and leave it to simmer until the tomatoes are sauce. Then we add the rest of the vegetables and voila! Any questions darling?”
“When do we add the rubies?” asked Spike, scratching his head in confusion. Rarity’s eyebrows wrinkled as she turned back to the little dragon.
“Spike,” she said carefully, “you do know that ponies can’t digest gemstones, don’t you?”
Spike’s eyes slowly widened to the size of dinner plates. “The world makes so much more sense now,” he whispered.
Rarity stared at Spike for a good while with a look of near panic on her face before the dragon started laughing. “Gotcha!” he chuckled. Rarity stared at him in bafflement for another second before rolling her eyes and going to the refrigerator. Spike continued to giggle to himself.
“No, seriously, I’ve known that for years. ...although it did take a lot longer to figure out than it should have... nobody ever really explained it until I tried to feed Celestia an onyx cluster.” Spike looked down at the floor and his face abruptly twisted into a rueful frown. “Nobody ever tells me anything,” he muttered.
“Hmmmm... that last part kind of came out of nowhere,” said Rarity gently as she floated two treats out of the fridge, a glass of tea for herself and a chilled sapphire for Spike. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” grumbled Spike, accepting the gem and taking a bite. “Well, maybe.”
Rarity sat down at her kitchen table and smiled at him indulgently. Spike started pacing, taking bites out of his sapphire and gesticulating with one claw.
“Twilight’s keeping something from me!” he said after a moment to gather his thoughts, “and I don’t understand why! I’m a good assistant, right? Why would she want to keep anything from me? Is it because she doesn’t trust me?”
“Oh, mares have all kinds of things they want to keep secret Spike,” said Rarity, “it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with you. It’s probably something she doesn’t want anypony to know.”
“She wants the princess to know,” Spike grumbled, polishing off the last bite of his sapphire. Rarity’s ears perked up.
“Celestia? What does she have to do with it?”
“They’re sending scrolls to each other!” Spike exclaimed.
Rarity just looked at him.
“Secret scrolls!” he explained, “scrolls I’m not supposed to read! Even though I have to send them!”
“That does seem a bit unusual,” conceded Rarity, rubbing her hooves together, “don’t they usually involve you with Twilight’s scholarly pursuits?”
“Well, the friendship reports and magic research and stuff I still read,” admitted Spike, “but then there are other scrolls that I’m not supposed to read! And Twilight got really mad when I tried. I asked the princess about it once, and she just said she’d tell me when I was older.” A tiny burst of emerald flame escaped Spike’s nostrils. “I hate it when ponies tell me that.”
Rarity giggled just a bit. “Oh dear, Spike I think Twilight and Celestia are just discussing aspects of a pony’s life that they would rather others didn’t know about. It’s just like I said before, they’re not keeping it from you because they don’t trust you, it’s just something that they’d feel uncomfortable having anypony know. Twilight just wants some privacy. And you should always respect another pony’s privacy Spike. ...no matter how much you’d like to know.” Rarity grinned a little.
“I guess that makes sense,” said Spike, scratching his spines, “I just wish they could figure out a way to talk about it without all the extra mail. Burping up letters can give you a bit of a tummyache sometimes.”
“I wouldn’t know,” chuckled Rarity as she trotted over to the stove to check the sauce. Steam billowed out from beneath the pot’s cover as she raised it with her telekinesis. “Although I must admit to being a bit confused. If Twilight and the Princess use you to send ordinary letters and private ones, how do you know which is which?”
“Different colored ribbons,” said Spike, “the ordinary ones have a red one and the private ones have a... ah... AaaaOOOOUUUURRRRP!”
Rarity reared back in surprise as Spike belched a gout of green fire, which coalesced into a paper scroll with a purple ribbon and a wax seal. Spike deftly caught the missive, blinked, and then held it out for the unicorn to see. “Like this one,” he explained.
“Ah, violet for Twilight,” said Rarity with a smirk, “makes sense. Do you want to take that over to her now? She might be waiting for it, and when you get back it will be time to start the pasta.”
“Hmmm...” Spike frowned down at the scroll, slowly rotating it in his claws. Rarity cocked her head to one side.
“Spike?”
“I’m just thinking,” he said, slowly. “You can... separate things and then put them back together, right Rarity? With your magic?”
Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “Spike...”
“I just want to make sure she’s okay! What if something’s wrong, but we don’t know because Twilight won’t tell us?”
“Spike!” Rarity frowned hugely as she telekinetically took the scroll away from him and levitated it towards herself. “Just because you’re curious and I have an insatiable thirst for gossip is no reason to invade our friend’s privacy! Besides... of all ponies, don’t you think we can trust Princess Celestia to help Twilight with any problems she might have?”
Spike sighed and lowered his head in shame. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, well.” Rarity sniffed. “You just be a good boy and take this to Twilight, alright? Before I am entirely overcome with curiosity and do exactly what I’m scolding you for suggesting. Take it right to her, and no peeking, and maybe when you get back I’ll have found a couple of gems we can use to spice up your plate a bit...”
“Rarity!” Spike yelled suddenly, “the letter!”
The unicorn let out a yelp as she realized an instant too late she’d been holding the scroll above her pot of pasta sauce. She quickly whipped the letter out of the steam, but the damage was done. The wax seal softened and the scroll fell open, spilling a glossy piece of paper onto the floor.
“Oh dear,” muttered Rarity, “well that’s done it. No, don’t worry Spike, we haven’t read it. I’m not reading it, see?” Spike nodded to confirm that she totally wasn’t reading it. “I’m rolling it right back up. I’ll just come along with you and explain to Twilight that we had an accident. She won’t be happy but I’m sure she’ll realize it was just a mistake...”
She carefully rolled up the scroll, then frowned and cast about for the part that had fallen. “There was something in it, Spike did you see where it went?”
“Under here,” said Spike, bending over to reach under the table. “Looks like a photograph.”
The little dragon suddenly went very quiet. When he straightened back up with the photo in his claws there was a very confused expression on his face. Rarity let out a deep sigh.
“Spike, don’t look at it! We’re trying to respect... Twilight’s... privacy... oh never mind just give it here.”
Spike just held out the photograph. Rarity took it with her telekinesis and very carefully closed one of her eyes so it sort of looked like she only accidentally saw what was in the photo as she started to wrap it back up in the scroll. Then she stopped pretending and just stared at it, her jaw falling open.
“... why in Equestria would Princess Celestia send Twilight a picture of THAT!?” the fashionista wailed. If only the door to her kitchen was large enough for her fainting couch.
“Well it’s a picture of the princess, isn’t it?” asked Spike. Rarity’s head whipped around to stare at Spike in shock, then turned back to the picture.
“That’s Princess Celestia...? Oh yes, I see, that is her cutie mark.” Rarity stared at the photo for another moment, and then her eyes widened. “That’s Princess Celestia! But... but why would... Spike how could you tell so easily? That’s a rather... unusual angle.”
“I’m short,” muttered Spike, glowering. “That’s the angle I always see the princess at. ...at least from behind. And she usually has her tail covering-”
“Yes yes I see,” interrupted Rarity, starting to pace a circle around her kitchen. “Oh dear.” She stared at the scroll, which had fallen to the floor and lay there invitingly. Spike looked at it, and then glanced meaningfully at Rarity.
“Maybe we should...”
“Spike,” said Rarity firmly, “come with me.” She used her magic to turn off the stove while levitating the scroll and slipping the photograph inside of it. Spike swallowed nervously and gave chase as she left the kitchen at a brisk trot.
“Um, okay,” he said, “but where are we going?”
“To get the the story straight from the pony’s mouth,” said Rarity. “I want to know what Twilight has to say about this.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“And I don’t care if she is a princess. Celestia is in big trouble if I don’t like what I hear.”
-
Last Night
The crystalline walls of the cavern reflected the glow of a dozen candles, illuminating the large oaken table and the crowd of ponies clustered around it. The sharp edges of the walls shattered the image like funhouse mirrors and sent the dim light careening down the tunnels leading to the chamber and showing the way to those still wandering in. The caves beneath Canterlot were a maze of gems, potentially lethal to those who didn’t know the way. To even reach the welcoming glow of the candles was to have learned the route by heart. It was the last in a long string of tests that only these few had passed.
Barely two score, they milled about impatiently, hooves stamping softly on the stone floor. Each pony wore a variant of the same costume: a long hooded cloak and a mask. The cloak served to hide one’s mark and obscure the color of their coat, the mask hid their face. Even if an interloper had managed to find them, they still wouldn’t know who any of these ponies were. Their identities were entirely secret, possibly even from each other.
The lone exception was the last to arrive, a slim, haggard-looking earth pony dressed in a cloak of rough homespun. The side of his garment bulged with a full saddlebag, and he seemed to curl protectively around it as he entered the cavern. He licked dry lips as the assembled ponies ceased their quiet conversation and turned to him expectantly.
“There you are,” growled one, the ornate unicorn’s horn attached to her mask flashing in the candlelight, “did you get it Creeper Vine? Do you have the book?”
“Patience.”
The word was barely a whisper, but everypony present heard it and each instantly froze into stillness. One cloak and mask came forward, standing at the opposite side of the table from the newcomer. There was no ornamentation on this mask, which was a featureless shell of bone white, shadowed by a hooded cloak of simple black silk. His voice was quiet, flat, and deep. He inclined his head ever so slightly in invitation.
The maskless pony, apparently named Creeper Vine, swallowed and slowly approached the table, glancing about at the others as he went. After what seemed like hours he reached his destination, and with exaggerated care he nosed open his saddlebag. Inside was an unassuming bundle wrapped in muslin, but at the sight of it an excited whisper ran through the small crowd.
The white mask stretched forward ever so slightly, and the faint silver glow of magic enveloped the cloth package, sliding it out of Creeper’s saddlebag and settling it reverently on the table in front of him. The pony let out a relieved groan as the weight was taken away, but the masked ponies only seemed to have eyes for the package.
The cloth wrappings were soon revealed to contain a book, a tome of unusual size and apparent age. The title was carved into the heavy cover in a looping, fanciful script, and written in a language that had not been the vernacular for hundreds of years. The pony in the white mask perked up noticeably at the sight, and he breathed a sigh of pleasure as his magic began to gently turn the pages.
“The Sidereal Grimorum,” he intoned, translating the title for those in the cavern who could not read old Equuish. “Acquired at no small expense... and no doubt great personal risk on the part of our faithful initiate.”
Creeper Vine shrugged, embarrassed by what might have been intended as praise. The unicorn in the shiny mask leaned forward to get a better look at the book. “The original?” she asked in a whisper.
“Oh, no,” chuckled the white mask, “the book penned by Clover herself is long turned to fragments. But this, judging by the inscription on the inside cover, was transcribed directly from that volume, and the most complete surviving copy. Certainly far more exhaustive than the version found in our own library. It contains all of Starswirl the Bearded’s most closely guarded secrets, the spells he kept from all but his most trusted student.”
The slowly turning pages stopped, and a quiet rattling noise filled the cavern. It took the other ponies several moments to realize it was laughter. The white mask lowered, and the book slowly drifted shut.
“It’s here,” he chuckled softly, “it’s all here. Exactly what we need. Now the plan can finally begin.”
“Well then,” said Creeper Vine, very quietly, “you’ll be able to pay me what I’m owed, and I can go about forgetting any of this ever happened, eh?”
Somepony else chuckled. The sound, though not as intrinsically unsettling as the white masked pony’s quiet mirth, nonetheless carried an edge that tightened Creeper’s throat with fear. The gaudy horned mask turned to him, and it trembled with cruel amusement.
“No, I don’t think we’re going to do that.”
Creeper closed his eyes at the telltale sound of unicorn magic, and he waited for whatever horrible fate was intended for him. What happened instead was another sound reaching his twitching ears. The sound of a pony choking for breath. Creeper’s eyes flew open just in time to see the pony with the horned mask fall to the floor of the cavern, gasping and wheezing as a thin strand of silver magic released its hold on her throat. Her mask was knocked askew when she fell, and Creeper could see a pale pony with a dark blue mane, her forehead as smooth and featureless as his own.
“You presume far more than is good for you Bluebell,” said the pony in the white mask, his quiet voice leaden with anger. “Creeper Vine has kept his end of the bargain, I have every intention of doing the same.”
“You do?” asked another pony in a mask that had been painted to resemble a dragon’s snout. The white mask turned just enough to give him a plainly sidelong look before tilting back towards Creeper, the dark eyes behind it glittering in the candlelight.
“I do,” he said softly, all trace of emotion again quieted, “though I had hoped that perhaps he could see his way to accepting a greater reward than that. Creeper Vine, the world I am now preparing to create has a place for you, if you want it. You needn’t stoop to petty theft to feed yourself any more. Musn’t be complacent with the cold comfort of coin. I can offer you more than that, so much more.”
“After your revolution succeeds?” asked Creeper, unable to keep the hint of an incredulous smile off his face, “No offense, but you lot are going up against her, right? And that’s crazy. Her own sister couldn’t do it, not a thousand years ago, and she’s only gotten stronger since. What makes any of you think you stand half a chance against her now?”
“Our kind flourished without her interference once,” said the white mask, a brief flash of anger once again creeping into the words, “and it will do so again. We don’t need her, or any of her kind. We will show everypony that she isn’t half as invincible as she wants them to think she is. And then Equestria will be free again.”
“But she’s immortal,” said Creeper desperately, “she’s been around for over a thousand years right? What can we possibly do to something like that?”
“Nothing is truly immortal,” the white mask chuckled, “and no monarch reigns forever. Not even Celestia. I intend to see to that personally.”
-End of Part 1
