Somnambula was annoyed.

Her day started out normal for a pony still recovering from a jetlagged time gap. Yes, it was her conscientious decision to get stuck in Limbo with the rest of the Pillars, but it wasn’t her fault she got stuck there for a thousand years before somepony by the name of Twilight Sparkle stumbled on by and, with her friends, undid the safety net that Somnambula and the rest of the Pillars placed in order for Stygian to not cast Equestria into eternal darkness! No, no, that part wasn’t her fault. It was her fault she was stuck in her own little predicament.

Currently she was standing in front of an out-of-village vendor. They were staring at her menacingly, while she stood there dumbfounded. A table separated the two, while a stack of unused papyrus sat beside them on that same table, directly to her left.

“We only take bits here, ma'am.”

Those words clawed at her ears. They clawed and clawed and clawed until she felt like she had gone deaf. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t. She hoped the stallion in front of her noticed her scowl, noticed her headdress being tilted just a tad to the right, and her gaze that burned more than Princess Celestia's sun. If he had, then he would not be smiling at her right now.

“You only take bits?”

“Precisely.”

“Do you know where you’re at?”

The stallion tapped his chin for a moment. “Somnambula, I believe.”

Somnambula's eyes widened. “Okay, so you do know—”

“A village in the middle of the Bone Dry Desert. A paradise in the sands of time, right?”

“Yes,” she said bitterly. Her wings tingled as she continued, “That’s where we are.”

The stallion snorted. “Good, thought I read the brochure wrong.”

Somnambula raised a brow at this, but upon glancing out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the silly brochure the stallion had mentioned behind him on a much smaller table. She could barely make out any of it, but the bold red lettering with her name emblazoned on it told her enough about it. “Anyway, as I said before, I can’t take any of your… possessions in place for this, ma’am. I need bits.”

She frowned. She hadn’t been here long. She had walked up to the vendor, eyed his inventory, spotted an item she knew she wanted, and started to haggle, only for the stallion behind the table to say those words to her. She tried to offer her uninked stack of papyrus, but ended up hearing the same parroted line, which is why she was attempting to make her case.

“And you’re sure you won’t take this homemade papyrus—”

“We have plenty of unused paper. Notepads, even.” He smirked. “What we don’t have are plenty of bits. After all, bits make the world go around!”

“Bits didn’t make the world go around a thousand years ago—”

The stallion tilted his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. She carefully unlatched her saddlebags and scoured through them. “Hold on, let’s see here…”

See, in Somnambula (the village), ponies didn’t use bits. They haggled with their possessions. It’s a tale as old as time, as old as the sands that sifted between Somnambula’s hooves. And yet, here was an outsider who placed a currency requirement, one that, if she was visiting any other place in Equestria, she would have them on her, and she would’ve chucked them at the rude stallion without a moment to spare. Yet, she left them at home, in her bungalow, which was a painstaking trek across the village. It would be a mild inconvenience, what with having to walk back home to get her bag of bits, but the ever-present worry she’d feel with each step she’d have to take knowing that somepony could trot on up to the vendor, point out the item she wanted, and throw a bag of bits on the table without a second thought irked her beyond belief.

Which was why she was hoping to change his mind with what priceless valuables she had on her.

Furiously scraping through her saddlebags, Somnambula searched and searched. She came across a couple of items. Two of them were presents for Fluttershy and Princess Twilight Sparkle respectively: a black cat figurine sitting upright licking its right paw and a book on the village’s folklore. She didn’t want to give these to the stallion, they had meaning to her. Where were her—oh!

She withheld an actual yelp as she spotted the valuables she was looking for: a gold necklace, a couple silver hoof rings, and a set of pearl earrings. While jewelry was lovely, she had no need for these, but she didn’t have it in her to tell the ponies of the village to stop gifting these to her. They valued her highly to the point of willingly giving her a fortune and a half for merely existing. All she wanted was for ponies to be happy, and if ponies wanted her to have these, what would she do other than accept each gift?

Frantically, she unearthed them from her saddlebags and shoved them directly in front of the stallion’s face. “How about these?”

The stallion grunted as he magicked her stash onto the table. He inspected each item carefully, his rather dull green eyes scanning over them. His burnt red mustache clashed with his barely yellow hair. His confusing mane was partially covered by a more yellow boater with a blue stripe at its base. His also barely yellow horn glared at her with its green hue shimmering in the light. Her valuables rose slightly toward his annoying muzzle, while his forehoof played with that stupid mustache—

She sighed. She was not this type of pony. She wouldn’t let her frustrations be taken out on a pony who violated every concept of haggling in her village. She would not let them tarnish the goodness that was Somnambula, and she would not stoop lower by indulging in petty insults. She was better than that. She was Somnambula.

“Hmmm,” the stallion hummed. He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure if I could sell these back home.”

Her right eyebrow writhed in agony. “You’re… not sure?”

“Yes. I would probably have to get these melted down to even make a profit.”

“Ponies don’t have—”

The stallion inspected the hoof rings more closely, pursing his lips. “These hoof rings seem to be custom-made. They are tailored to somepony else’s hooves. Trying to find a buyer for that would be difficult.”

“But what about—”

“The earrings?” he asked. She nodded, albeit resisting the recoil she got from his tone. “Well, they might be the easiest thing to sell if I was on the coast of Mount Aris. Not in the middle of the desert.”

Somnambula frowned. “And the necklace?”

The stallion brought it further into the light, before trying to see if it fit him, using his magic to hover it around his neck. He unfastened it once he realized it totally didn’t fit around his head. “More for a foal. Not sure who has a neck this tiny.”

She knew who, but it would be offensive to mention their name since they were the one who gave it to her in the first place. So, she sighed. “So it’s still a no?”

“No deal. Bits only.”

“What was your name again?”

“Flam, ma’am.”

Flam stood ramrod behind his little table. The canopy above him was more Equestrian than ever, what with the umbrella shrouding him from the burning sun. He cracked his neck as he stared at her, wondering if she would place an offer in bits this time.

She knew his kind: the swindling type, one with a conniving attitude, always looking for the next bit to earn. She was his opposite. She knew who she was.

She eyed the item again. A large brown bag. Appeared hoof-sewn, with a little custom stitching pattern to mend the fabric together—what was it again? Somnambula wasn’t a seamstress. Rarity was, and she was all the way in Ponyville probably getting ready for Hearth’s Warming, and nopony else in Somnambula was on the same plane of existence as Rarity. So…

Somnambula hung her head. “You do know who I am, right?”

Flam shook his head. “Uhh… no. You’re a customer and—”

“Did you see the statue on your way in?” she asked, tilting her head.

Unfortunately, another shake graced her vision. “No, I came in from the back.”

There was a back way?! Somnambula blinked rapidly. “A back…?”

Flam nodded. “You do know that the village isn’t fenced in? There’s more than one way and—ack!”

“I am Somnambula, Flam,” she sternly addressed as she pulled him closer to her muzzle with her wing, glaring at him fiercely. “And here in my village, we don’t use bits. We use our possessions to trade. If somepony had something I wanted, I’d see if they wanted something I had. An equal trade, right?”

“Sounds… right!”

“And how many ponies have come up to your stand?”

“Eck—seven.”

It was midday. Only seven? “Did any of them buy anything from you?”

He chomped at his cheek, at least, that’s what it looked like he was doing from her perspective. “Heh eh. Uhhh…”

“If you’re forcing ponies to pay with bits, then somepony must have paid you to even enforce this in the first place, right?”

Those words made him wince. “None of them, actually.”

She let him go, the stallion rocking back and forth in place. “So…?”

“So what?”

“You’re not going to budge after hearing all that?”

He shook his head—wait, were his eyes swimming or was she just seeing things? “Nope. Still want bits.”

Somnambula threw her forehooves into the air. “I don’t know what to say here.” Her wings knew though, as they spread wide before snapping downward. “Fine. If you really want bits, I’ll be right back.”

“Per—”

She flicked a wing over to her stack of papyrus. “I’m taking these with me.”

With a flick, Somnambula tailed it out of there. The fact that nopony had even come with a bag of bits goes to show that he was not even making a bit off anything he was selling. He wasn’t there to haggle, he was there to make a quick few bits and then hightail it out of there never to return.

But that bag. That bag was living rent free in her head. It looked big enough to handle a lot of mail. Mail that her gift exchange partner would need to haul to and from the post office.

Her name was Derpy. A pegasus, probably. She didn’t ask Princess Twilight about that. Maybe she was an earth pony in some weird flying device, what with how Equestria was now compared to a thousand years ago. Thankfully, she wasn’t there anymore. She was here, a thousand years later, with ponies doing all sorts of things she couldn’t wrap her mind around. Somnambula could only imagine what it was like using a worn out knapsack as a mail bag—that’s what Twilight had said to her.

She flicked her tail as she walked in-between stalls at the market. The sun sat high as it watched her sink further into the sands with each step. It watched her all the way to her home, into her foyer, into the room where she kept her desirables, where Somnambula looked in the mirror, adjusted her headdress, smiled half-heartedly while her mind concocted ways the Sphinx would torture Flam and his mustache, and with her bag of bits slipped into her saddlebags (she grabbed the whole lot, she didn’t know how much this stallion would charge) and her previous items dropped off on her bed, she trotted back out of her house.

The sun had fallen a bit, but it had never wavered, as Somnambula trotted—no, galloped ahead. Her worry, even though she knew it wouldn’t happen, had overwhelmed her mid-trot, so she now galloped ahead, passing ponies with a breakneck pace. She was running so fast that even a nearby cabbage vendor scrambled to contain his merchandise. Thankfully, she hadn’t run into the table he had set them on, nor did she run into the many other ponies in the market. Her reflexes were sharp, her determination strong, and her hooves unaffected by the grit of the sand.

Somnambula smiled as she rounded a bend. She spotted Flam, with his stache still looking silly, standing there as she had left him. She took a deep breath and trotted up to him, happily wearing what she hoped was a smug expression.

“So, did you sell the bag?”

Flam blinked. “Oh, the bag?” He turned around and scrambled to find it. It took him a bit, but he popped his off-color head back up and smiled, with the bag secured in his magic. “This one?”

He set it down in front of her, the sun giving it more color (it was actually a bright brown bag) than it had before. This was the perfect bag for Derpy. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Oh don’t thank me yet,” Flam said, his smirk more annoying than it was before. “You haven’t stated what you’re offering for it.”

Oh now he wanted to haggle? Somnambula leaned forward, her wings unfurled and raised high. “Now you want to haggle?”

“Well we are in Somnambula.”

She resisted the urge to grit her teeth, albeit horribly. She narrowed her gaze, her brows furrowing. “Greed is quite an evil thing for someone to harbor.”

He put a hoof on the table and leaned forward too. “Then you’re lucky Flim isn’t here.”

“There’s two of you?”

“Traveling salesponies need their companions.” His smirk wiggled into an abomination that she thought was a frown, but it looked like he was trying to smile at the same time. “Too bad he isn’t here. Stuck in our hotel room with a fever. He would’ve loved to see this happen.”

“Loved?”

“Yes. Loved. He’s always happy to see bits thrown his way.”

She snorted. “Maybe the bits I’ll give you today may cure him of his ailment.”

“Maybe. The doctor’s precious serum she gave us hasn’t worked at all!”

Somnambula snapped her wings back to her sides. She, once again, unlatched her saddlebags and pulled her bag of bits out. She set them on the table. “Fifteen bits for the bag.”

“Fifteen? Are you sure that will cure my brother?”

“I’m not a doctor,” Somnambula began. “If I was, then I wouldn’t be standing here buying a bag from you.”

He pointed a hoof at her. “Touche.” He inspected the bag, opening it up a bit. He smiled and— “I’ll give this to you for twenty bits.”

“Twenty?” Somnambula’s eyes widened. “Are you sure that this is worth twenty bits?”

He flicked the bag over his neck, letting it rest on his withers. “Well, it fits me just fine.”

“That’s not the question I asked.”

Fumbling around, Flam scrambled to grab what Somnambula guessed were items to put into the bag: an open notepad with the name of a pony in it scribbled in red ink, a rather large scrapbook with random photos jutting out from the top of it, a large box of bandages, a recipe for a cake scribbled on a small piece of paper, and an overly ripe orange that looked so unhealthy to eat that it made Somnambula’s stomach curl. If he put that in the bag, she would have to wash it before she sent it even remotely close to Ponyville.

The stallion lifted the bag off him and slid the items, one by one, into it. Then, he resettled the bag on his neck, which appeared to fit comfortably there, although she noted the distinct green hue surrounding the strap. Was he… faking it? She wasn’t sure.

“There. That should—”

“Stop holding it up with your magic,” Somnambula whispered.

“P-Pardon?” Flam sputtered out.

“You heard me. Stop holding it up with your magic.”

Flam gulped before nervously laughing. “Heh eh, I’m not sure if it will—”

“Hold up? I’m not giving you anything until I know that bag can withstand a lot of weight.”

He sighed and let his magic dissipate. The green hue faded away, yet the bag still held up. He smirked. “Was all an act,” he surmised, throwing his hooves onto the table. “Impressed?”

“Lucky, I suppose.” She eyed the bag further, but she didn’t see any of his magic holding it up. “So, are we good with twenty bits, then?”

Flam nodded. “Twenty bits and this bag worthy of a mare your stature—”

“It’s not for me.”

“Ah? Last minute Hearth’s Warming shopping, I take it?”

“Something like that,” Somnambula replied, eyeballing the bag further. The bag looked like it could handle the weight it had but… She shook her head and slid over the appropriate amount of bits from her bag. “Here’s your twenty bits, Flam.”

The stallion counted each one before nodding and magicking the bag over to her. He laid it on her back, which she appreciated. “As per our deal.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course,” Flam replied with a nod. He turned around but craned his neck to address her. “Well, if that’s all you wanted, then I hope you have a great Hearth’s Warming.”

Even greed had a heart, huh? She broke a smile, albeit short though. He didn’t deserve a true one. “Same to you and your brother.”

“Thanks, he’d appreciate that.”

Somnambula hurled her own saddlebags on her back. She didn’t care to latch it, her only valuables were in her hoof anyhow. With that same smile painted on her face, she turned tail and walked back to her bungalow.

She couldn’t wait to wrap it!

Derpy Hooves was annoyed.

She had gone to the gift exchange, the one where the Pillars were going to be participating in (at least, that’s what was advertised) and was told that her present was never delivered. Derpy was baffled, but she was more-so angry than anything. She didn’t show it, though. She didn’t want other ponies worried for her, let alone dampened by her being forgotten about once again.

Her life wasn’t that great. She was always hampered by the deadlines of the post office and her boss was not the best pony in Equestria, what with cutting her time off because they were ‘overloaded’. Even getting Hearth’s Warming off was a hassle and—

“What’s wrong, mom?”

At least she had her daughter, Dinky, to comfort her. Derpy sorta-smiled at the filly. “Nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothin’.” She hopped onto the couch and nuzzled her blonde mane into Derpy’s shoulder.

On reflex, Derpy raised a wing and wrapped it around her daughter, returning the nuzzle happily. “It’s nothing for a filly like you to worry about.”

Dinky tilted her head. “Promise?”

Derpy snorted. “You opened up your presents?”

“Yeah!” She wiggled in her grasp. “Thanks for the scarf, mom!”

“You’re welcome,” Derpy replied with what felt like a smile. “I’m glad you liked the scarf. Rarity told me that—”

“Rarity made it for me?!”

A laugh escaped her. “Yes. And—”

Knock. Knock.

“Who could it be at this hour?”

Derpy let her wing return to her side and hopped off the couch, leaving Dinky on her own. She hoped her daughter wouldn’t suddenly turn that couch into a coloring book session, but she did gift her those crayons and coloring books for a reason. She giggled to herself before opening the door and—

“Package for Miss Derpy Hooves.”

“Care Package?”

The stallion, dressed in his own post office uniform attire, stood holding the package in his forehooves. “At your service, ma’am.”

She took the package from him, using her wing to anchor it against her side. It was a big package! “Who’s it from?”

“Ever heard of a pony named Somnambula?”

“Somnambula sent this?!”

Care Package laughed. “Yeah, looks like it.” He shook his head before giving her a smile. “Merry Hearth’s Warming, Derpy.”

She nodded. “Same to you, Care Package. Thank you for delivering this to me.”

“Had to when I saw it sitting in the office. Hate when somepony doesn’t get their mail.”

A chuckle escaped her. “Yeah, I do too.”

“Well, see you ‘round.”

With that, Care Package walked away into the darkness of the night, his hoofsteps crunching with each step. Derpy watched him leave, but once he was out of her view, she turned and closed the door behind her, the package snug under her wing. Carefully, she set it on the ground.

“Mom, who was it?”

“Somepony from work,” Derpy replied. She sat down on her haunches. “Looks like I have a present after all, honey.”

“A present?!” She hopped into the room and gasped. “I wanna help, I wanna help!”

Derpy smiled. “Alright, alright. Be gentle though, Dinky. It’s not a competition and we don’t know if it’s breakable!”

Dinky slid in front of the package with a smile plastered on her face. She flared her horn, light blue magic seeping from it. Derpy, on the other side of the package, tore into it with her teeth. Together, the two ripped into the package and subsequent wrapping paper, leaving only the present out in the open.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Dinky?”

The little one pointed at the present. “That’s a bag.”

Derpy nodded. “It is.” She tilted it in the light. “Looks pretty sturdy.” She tugged on the strap. “It feels pretty sturdy too!”

Dinky did some tippy-tappies right in front of her, her horn flaring happily. “Let’s see if it holds anything, mom!”

“Good thinking, Dinky,” Derpy said, ruffling her daughter’s mane with her wing. “Let’s see what I—”

Suddenly, Dinky magicked a bunch of boxes into the room.

“—have.”

“How about these?”

The boxes laid next to her, in her foyer of her house.

Derpy blinked before shaking her head. “Sure!”

Carefully, one by one, each box was put into the bag. Once all of them were in it, Derpy lifted it up and—

The strap snapped. The side of the bag tore at its seams. The boxes tumbled out, spilling back onto the floor.

Derpy’s wings sagged. “Oh no…”

Dinky frowned. “I guess it didn’t hold up?”

She couldn’t believe her luck. The present she was supposed to receive finally arrived, and it tore apart that quickly?! Derpy frowned, scanning the box that the bag came in for any clues. Somnambula wouldn’t have bought this without testing it, right?

Scanning the box, she noticed a letter under a bit of loose wrapping paper. She flicked it open and began to read it:

Dear Derpy,

I know you have never met me, but my name is Somnambula, and I was assigned to you for the Pillar’s Secret Gift Exchange program that Princess Twilight helped put together. I hope you enjoy your gift! I was told that you were a hardworking pony who enjoyed giving mail out to everypony in Ponyville. I hope this bag will help you carry as much mail as you can. Don’t worry, I tested the bag thoroughly before I sent it. The pony who I bought it from was very… interesting, to say the least. Have you ever heard of a stallion named Flam? He apparently is from Ponyville…”

She didn’t even read the rest. Flam had a hoof in this?

Derpy sighed. At least Somnambula meant well. Should she let Twilight know that the present was in this condition?

…

Probably not. She’d be just as annoyed as Derpy was right now!

Twilight Sparkle was annoyed.

“What’s wrong, Twilight?”

Twilight sighed. “Rarity, my Flim and Flam sensors just went off.”

“You have those?”

Author's Note

Was supposed to post on the 28th, but I unfortunately ran into a roadblock on the 27th that caused me to have to rewrite my fic completely from scratch with a completely new premise! I am not screaming into the void, are you?

Song for this story (aka one of the many songs I listened to while writing this one):