Fluttershy needs to buy time: it's not an option.

Of course, that doesn't stop her from wishing that yes, in fact, it was optional, and! Really, honestly, this whole Tag ordeal is also so last Tuesday, and she can tap out whenever she wants. Free of charge!

A noise slips out of her throat, somewhere between a whimper and a wheeze.

"I'm not that lucky," she chuckles weakly, "I'm really, really not."

There's a burn that's quickly creeping past ‘manageable’ and right into ‘distracting’, crawling up the ligaments of her wings in a way that can only be described as agonising. A familiar shame fills her; she’s never met another pegasus that’s even half as weak of a flier as she is, and it’s a title she’s never been able to escape from. Not for the first time, she wishes she’d been born slightly different— just a bit more normal, like the rest of her family.

She blinks. Now is not the time; despite how much her mind tries to convince her otherwise.

A few words from your friends doesn't change history, something whispers. You've never succeeded before; and you never will.

Fluttershy frowns, something nasty curling her lips into a vicious slant.

Her hooves never fail her; where her wings stutter and stagnate, the rest of her body is there to pick up the slack. And, in any regard, pain is only mental: and if there's anything that she's good at ignoring, it's her own well-being. Muscles burn and writhe in protest but she pushes past it— she has a job to do.

"Oh, yoohoo!"

A familiar voice breaks through all of the unpleasant thoughts, banishing them to some unknowable dimension. Something like fondness eases her expression, turning all of the angry wrinkles back into a smooth, placid slate.

He shouldn't have this effect on her, she knows. But he's becoming familiar; and it's...

It's nice.

"H-hello, Discord," Fluttershy smiles at the clouds before her eyes, not quite daring enough to risk a glance back. "It's, um, nice to see you again."

"Why, hello there. You didn't miss me too much, did you?"

Laughter, quiet and innocuous, aches to rise up and break through her lips. She dislodges the feeling with a firm shake of the head, but the affectionate glow that's overtaken her is impossible to escape.

"As much as I always do," Fluttershy manages between breaths, dry-witted and sly, before looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "And you?"

Discord stares at her in silence, some strange haze overtaking his eyes. They're centered on her with an unerring focus; as if she were the fulcrum of time and space itself. Or, a part of her prods back in reminder, he's just thinking of what to say, don't toot your own horn!

When the silence continues to drag on, Fluttershy just brings her attention back to the forefront; doused in a heavy dose of reality— and embarrassment.

"Um," she ducks her head, aching to just become one with the nearest shadow. "Not that you have answer or anything..."

Loud, uproarious laughter greets her words, and it's sudden enough that it almost startles her overboard.

"You are such a confounding delight, my dear!" Discord manages to push out between cackles and raspy wheezes. "Really, you give off so many contradicting signals, you might as well be that one guy at the round-about."

A what, is all her mind can grasp. What.

"Okay," she agrees mindlessly, because what else is she meant to say? "That sounds, um, appropriate."

"Quite," comes his parroted acquiescence, with his voice being a lot closer than it was before. Fluttershy turns back, perplexed, and nearly dies right then and there when it turns out he's right next to her with a matching stride. He leans closer, the pair of them nearly snout to snout, and she's too blind-sided to pull away. Then, very seriously, he asks, "what's your favourite flavour?"

"Flavour? Of what?"

"You know," he makes a vague gesture with his head, rolling it around on his shoulders. "Generally."

She blinks. Then, with a practiced calm, she thinks.

"Sweet and salty, I guess," Fluttershy admits after a moment. "I like how they both make each other, um... taste better? Despite being opposite 'flavours', I-I guess..."

"They're contradictory but complimentary," Discord attempts to clarify further. "Right?"

She nods with enthusiasm, eying him with wide eyes.

"R-right," the pegasus stutters, feeling oddly flustered. "That's, um... exactly right. How did you..?"

Discord grins at her, wide and coltish and almost sweet, puffing his chest out in a mass of flared feathers and bulging muscle. "Well, you're looking at the original creator," he boasts with no small amount of pride. "That's right! Your fussy little princesses didn't bring such a culinary staple into being; t'was I! Dio!"

In a way that implies she's getting far too used to his antics, her brain picks out all of the nonsensicalities until only the important details remain. Her lips part, equal parts shocked and dubious.

"You?" Fluttershy can't help the incredulity in her voice, looking at him with no small amount of disbelief. "Really?"

"What can I say," he purrs, wiggling his brows at her. "I'm a wizard in the culinary arts. Truly, one could even call me a God!"

"You are a god," she points out blandly. Then, she clears her throat. "Uhm, pardon— I mean God."

Discord sniffs, wiping away an imaginary tear.

"They grow up so fast."

And Fluttershy's eyes can't help but roll, a wry edge to her resulting smile.

"No, but really," the draconequus insists, his strides quickly turning frantic and zealous: like he's a coiled spring, ready to let loose at any given moment. "I made that! And sweet chilli seasoning! And— okay, so whatever, I didn't invent pesto, but I did make the sundried tomato variant, which is just pedantics. Scout's honor!"

"Scout's honor, hm?"

He nods with blatant enthusiasm and no small amount of desperation. "Honest as a lime! Or a grapefruit; or some other honesty-shaped fruit. Perhaps an apple? Bleugh, apples."

She shakes her head with an amused snort— and then does her best to pretend that she didn't find that amusing at all, no, not even slightly, so her guilty conscience doesn't decide to use it as fuel for torment.

Here I am, Fluttershy looks away, contrite. Having an amicable conversation with the whole reason why I'm— why we are all in this mess. I'm awful.

But he's just so—! Easy to talk to!

"It's not fair," she mumbles under her breath, looking away. "It's really, really not fair."

Of course one of the few creatures in all of Equus that can put up with her— turns out to be a maddened god of yore, craving chaos and disharmony and chocolate milk. Of course! Why wouldn't they be!

"What isn't?"

Fluttershy flinches and nearly slips off the side of the train, recovering by the skin of her teeth. "Nothing!" She hurriedly answers, putting more power into her legs in an attempt to race ahead of him. When even the silence starts to feel disbelieving, she begins rambling some half-cooked lie. "Or, um, you know! Those, um... clouds! They're so, um. Pretty. It's... unfair?"

Well done, her brain snarks. Really, that was wonderful.

"The... clouds?" And, oh dear, he's not even pretending to believe her. "Really."

"O-oh, um," her eyes flicker from left to right, desperate for something, for anything, to just swallow her up whole. Maybe one of those black holes that Twilight talks about? "Yes, really! Really, really!"

"But, my dear compatriot! Have you looked at yourself, lately?"

No, no she hasn't; funny reason, really. Getting chased by the single most powerful entity in the history of Ever has a way of consuming all of one's waking hours.

The pegasus doesn't say that, of course; she'd hate to hurt his feelings.

"...No," Fluttershy says instead, still unable to hide the razor-edge of sarcasm. "I, um. Haven't."

Discord leaps into place next to her and her eyes swing over to him, watching as shining gold darkens into a burnished brass. Red meets blue in a wordless clash, and she can only tilt her head at him; puzzled. There's a craftiness that shrouds his expression, his mouth curled in a manner that she can only describe as fox-like.

It's times like these that she's distinctly reminded of his god-like status. Discord has all the sharp-edged and wild-eyed mystery of one; a sense of overwhelming power that she's only ever felt in the combined presence of the Princesses.

"I wouldn't write you off just yet, my dear," is all Discord tells her. "Besides, jealousy is unbecoming."

She looks away in embarrassment. Great, now she's being pitied by Discord, of all creatures.

"O-oh, yes," Fluttershy manages to squeak out, resisting the urge to hide in her mane. "I'm sorry."

"Besides," he ponders aloud, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. The slit pupil fixes on her in a way that feels dangerously similar to a knife's edge, and it makes her shiver. "You know me-"

Does she? Goodness. They've only known each other for a day.

His expression twists, the fox guile giving way to something friendlier; at the sight of it, her rising anxiety begins to ease. A cheeky smile pulls at his lips, somewhere between genuine joy and mischievous cunning, before it sharpens into a fanged grin. Something in her stomach flutters and, promptly, dies.

Traitor, traitor, he's the enemy—

"—I've always been a sucker for pretty smiles."

Everything; the stars, the moon, her breath— everything freezes. Suddenly, she feels a little lightheaded. Then the heat rushes to her face, to her ears, to- to everything.

"I-I," her eyes dart around as she desperately resists the urge to dive off the side of the train. "O-oh, um—"

"-My own smile, that is," Discord clarifies, tilting his head down to admire his reflection in the warped, pink-tinged metal of the train. There's something sly in his expression when his gaze rises back up to meet her own; smug carmine to mortified cyan. "I'm rather fetching, after all."

Her agreement is instinctive, heart-deep, and so automatic that she's genuinely wondering if she's got a concussion. It's a rhetorical question, her mind points out the obvious. It doesn't need an answer.

Her mouth hears that, recognises that, and says—

"Oh, yes, very—"

And, with that, Fluttershy wants to find a hole to crawl into and die.

Once this is over, the pegasus swears to herself, she's moving to the nearest wild forest and becoming a hermit— Zecora's lifestyle is quickly becoming her ideal, and she briefly wonders if the zebra would mind gaining an apprentice. Luckily, Discord doesn't seem to hear her. That, or he decides to ignore her altogether: one of these is less humiliating than the other.

"Nothing to say? Pity. You're usually such a word-smith."

Fluttershy averts her eyes, desperate to escape his borderline knowing stare. She focuses on the ground in front of her, on the next stretch of metal, on placing one hoof after the other, and notes that she's running out of—

"Unless," Discord says and her attention swings back to him; it always seems to come back to him, and she just doesn't understand why. He wastes a step to hold a lupine paw to his chin, cupping it in thought. "You thought I was talking about... you."

She squawks; and nearly falls over herself, tripping over her own hooves.

Nope! Nope, nope, nopenopenope—

Her wings flare out, liquid pain darting up and down every inch of cartilage, but she manages to right herself. An otherwise disastrous fall turns into an embarrassing stumble, but she's still blessedly upright on her hooves.

Don't let him get to her, she chants. Don't, don't, don't—

"My, what a reaction."

Fluttershy's eye twitches. Don't. Let him. Get to—

"You know, my dear," and suddenly he's far too close to her, his voice ringing in her ears like church bells at a funeral service. It's low, her hysterical mind manages to note, low enough that it seems to vibrate through the air. "There's nothing wrong with—"

And her weathered self-control snaps.

Fluttershy is a runner at heart. Whenever emotions get slightly too heated, or situations edge into mildly uncomfortable, she'll be gone within seconds. Fight doesn't exist as a response: only freeze and, when she's lucky, flight.

So.

She's a strong pony; strong for a pegasus, and strong even compared to earth ponies. She's strong enough to throw a Chaos God across a street; and that's not even counting the table that went with him. She's strong and her hooves are sharp and, for whatever reason, the metal sheet beneath her feels thin and brittle. There's two modes of escape: diving off the side of the train or just going inside— except the former is death sentence, and the latter is blocked.

Her eye twitches. The steel roof creaks; it sounds a bit like a whimper.

In her next stride, Fluttershy raises her hoof with righteous intent, buzzing with magic. Wind roars on either side of her, bellowing like vengeful wraiths, and then her hoof is descending with all the force of cracking thunder.

To put it simply: between her and the roof, the roof loses. Badly.

There's something to be said about the fury of a mare scorned; it's another thing entirely when Fluttershy wants to run for the hills, and an obstacle dares to block her path. The metal doesn't just cave in: it splinters. Shards of rusted metal clatter into the cart's interior, and whatever remains is curled inward in a horrid mimicry of the recovery position; echoing creaking iron and groaning steel.

She doesn't look at Discord. She dives into her self-made hole and lets it swallow her in one big gulp.

Landing with a balance and surety that comes from years of recovering from rough landings, Fluttershy's step doesn't even stutter. Her hooves tap against an aged and matted carpet, worn thread-bare by time, and she keeps running through one cart and right into the next, on and on, until the panicked haze begins to ease back into reality.

Blessed silence follows her, washing over her like a healing mist. Her mind, fried from Discord's ceaseless prodding, comes back to life with an anxious titter. Darkness sweeps over her like an old friend, the coolness of it nothing but a welcome balm to her aching muscles.

"Oh," Fluttershy sighs, filled with nothing but relief. "Oh, this is nice."

So she gallops. And gallops. And gallops.

It's...

...It's quiet, here.

It's the kind of quiet that's long and deep, seeming to stretch on unto infinity. It grates on her, like a rough brush going against the grain of her coat, and she can't help but miss the sounds of roaring winds and low laughter and heavy steps— heavy steps that are always just a hoof behind her.

Fluttershy swallows, an icy feeling crawling up her throat.

This isn't meant to happen— not to her, not to Fluttershy, who's reveled in complete and utter stillness since her birth.

And then, to make matters even more confusing: the silence, something that she'd loved since she was just a filly, begins to bear down on her like an anchor. It's once-familiar weight is oppressive: oppressive, and itchy, and cold, and uncomfortable, and—

-even in the cottage, there was noise. the bleeting of ewes, the lumbering steps of bears and panthers, singing birds and screaming monkeys; even in her home, there was noise, and it was perfect—

—"fluttershy! it's time for the spa!" or "come around anytime- actually, nevermind. i'll visit you, i know you and your animals—" and "fluttershy! fluttershy! yippee!" and—

-Oh.

Her hooves slow, a gallop turning to a canter, then trot, until she completely stills. Fluttershy stares at the darkness before her eyes, the cart's internal lanterns unlit, and watches dust particles dance between shafts of moonlight.

Without her animals, without her friends, without—

-it's only been a day. friends are hard, and confusing, and scary, and they're not meant to come this easy. he's not her friend, he's not, he's hardly even an acquaintance. he shouldn't be anything, he's nothing, he's the whole reason she's—

-but he has a way of worming into her head, his name falling out of her mouth as easily as Pinkie Pie! or Rainbow Dash! and sometimes he laughs, and he glows, and he shines. he has a way of making a space for himself, she's discovering. she doesn't hate it—

-there's a softness to him, she knows. a softness she recognises, hidden behind bared teeth and sarcastic comments. sometimes, all anypony needs is a chance-

-and he smiles with his eyes. like honey; like cranberries—

like a friend.

Loneliness.

It's a lonely world without the chatter, the snuffles, and the laughter. She'd been used to the silence, to the loneliness, once. But that was then, and time will always be relentless in it's stride. This is now, this is the present, and she's...

She's changed. It's an odd realisation, one that only serves to make her feel out of place in her own skin.

"I hope I didn't scare him away," she says to the idle air, remorse always kicking in slightly too late. "That would be..."

...Sad, her mind supplies. I think it would be very sad.

Fluttershy stays silent, but doesn't disagree.

Discord takes a moment to himself, having long since skidded to a standstill. He looks at his claws, pinches his cheek with a vengeance, then regards the hole with fresh eyes. The hole looks back at him, miserable and feeble. A piece of steel, hanging on by a thin fiber, loses it's grip and topples into the abyss.

It clatters on the distant floor with a muffled chime. He blinks.

"Huh."

He looks around, as if trying to find another witness for... whatever that was. When no hidden camera crews turn up, the draconequus just seems to be at a complete loss. Then, an abrupt rush of excitement hits him. His tail begins to thump against the train in a rhythmic giddiness, betraying his innermost thoughts, before he tries to hide it all behind a scowl.

"That was wholly unnecessary," Discord declares to the world at large. "That was odd, and strange, and completely off-base—!"

-Oh, who is he kidding.

He dives into the hole after her, grinning like a wild, wicked thing from the depths of Tartarus. All of existence is a stage, he knows, and never before has he even considered the thought of sharing it with somepony else. No other creature knows how to make it as fun, as interesting as he does; no other creature, except for one misshapen little pegasus.

Hm.

That leaf was still in her hair. How... unpleasant.

Discord lands without a sound, disdainfully eying the tastefully matching rug and drapes. Each window is spaced an exact amount away from the next, with the same dimensions and the same level of cleanliness. The same eerie wood that stinks of chemicals, the same dye and pattern that just scream Otherness. Each booth is the same; each chair is the same as the one next to it; it's all the. exact. same.

It's all lifeless. Death itself, trapped in a given form. He's standing in a graveyard, surrounded by ghosts, and the smell of their rotting corpses makes him want to gag.

The magic that writhes in his chest; his blood; his soul roils. It hisses with a wildness that eclipses all of the forests and creatures in the world, digging into his veins with a desperate howl. Things are too same, too dead; the world has to change, has to grow, has to move but it's all so horribly, horribly still—

His ears flick. His eyes feel like they're bleeding, and the only thing he can hear is the screaming in his head.

The draconequus reaches out, equal parts wretched and feverish when he tears the curtains away from the windows. They fall to the floor in tattered ribbons, and his talons go further, smashing out the window. Wind gushes in, whipping the cart into a frenzy. But, like ever, it's still not enough, it's never enough, move, he has to move, the world has to move moVE MOVE—

Iron touches the back of his tongue. Discord can't help but laugh; and laugh, and laugh, and he wonders if he'll laugh forever until eternity pours over the horizon like wine.

A creature feels like it's pressing up against his godly skin: a thousand worms crawling beneath a thin veneer of flesh, pushing up for a chance of air. There's an animal in his body, in his mind, and it's foreign and angry and rampaging. His tail lashes and the pieces of the room topple. He laughs some more, a maddening noise that starts to become one with the hissing lodged in his chest. A swipe of his claws; a push; a pull; movement; change; chaos.

He comes back into himself, the magic in his heart begrudgingly sated.

Discord stands amidst an upheaval; booths have been dislodged by howling winds, courtesy of a whole wall being ripped out and left screeching against the train rails. Leaves, branches and rocks have invaded the space, welcomed in by the makeshift windows and blowing gales, leaving the floor in a state of complete disarray. They vibrate and clatter against the train's floor, the rug reduced to something less than shreds.

He breathes out.

He turns away from the cacophony: wordless. Low shoulders and downcast eyes, the back of his claws dragging against bare metal. Somewhere beyond the metal doors, a centralized storm of chaos waits for him: the taste of self-doubt is bitter, warring with the strawberry-sweetness of faith and goodwill. An existence at war with itself, constantly fighting to remain still, while caught hopelessly in the throes of change: it's chaos, the good kind, and it lies only slightly out of reach.

Stepping from one cart to the next, he's met with the same sight as the last: a carbon replica of the previous abomination, from the candelabras right down to the couch frame. A clawed hand rubs against his face, dragging down his muzzle.

"A week," Discord grumbles to himself, turning to look outside the window. He can't help the wariness that settles on his shoulders, even if it is unwanted. "How am I going to last a week?"

Nothing answers him. The stillness taunts him like a wraith.

A sigh.

"Curse my sense of honor," he declares to the roof, scowling. "Otherwise, I would've scrapped this whole venture four hours in."

That was a lie: but, no one needs to know that but him.

Something runs through him— a familiar feeling, one that he's slowly learning to recognise. It's a sense of thrill; of radiance; of something that's the equivalent of freedom and cracking chains. Something that tastes a bit like bitter grounds and strawberry tarts, with a hint of sea salt; something that makes the insects crawling over his skin fade into the background.

He walks. And walks. And walks. Every step he takes is one that brings him closer to that maelstrom: to that perfectly irregular hurricane of thoughtless action and thoughtful musings.

It might as well be fresh air to him, in this place beyond all semblance of hope.

Discord is a draconequus; he'll chase anything that catches his interest, whether that's dancing fireflies or the world's latest Ragnarok. He isn't usually patient— he isn't usually calm. He's generous enough to leave that to lesser beings: like ponies, for example.

But.

His head turns, looking out the nearest window. Rolling fields of green meet his eyes, dotted with grappling wildflowers and the occasionally stubborn sapling. He breathes in: the air is bitter and sweet and salty.

It's perfect.

A door is the only thing that stands between him and sanctuary; between order and glorious, natural chaos. It's only a door, a thin slate of iron with rusted hinges and a squeaky handle, yet the sight of it is enough to make him hesitate.

What is he doing?

He could be out, urging the world into a new era of being with a beautiful display of perfectly sensible nonsense. There could be fireworks that explode in great plumes of whipped cream, dancing minotaurs with candy-cane horns, a moon made out of cheese— so many possibilities, so many prospects and hopes, so many things rife with potential. He could be king of the world- god of it, really- and yet—

And yet, here he is, with his lion paw poised to knock; politely.

It's— It should be disgusting.

He knocks regardless.

"Come in," calls a voice and it's like liquid velvet. He can practically hear the internal battle within it; a grand odyssey that spanned seconds. Anxiety takes up arms against self-confidence; who's quickly losing in a gloriously sad fashion. Common sense has long been slain, killed at the hands of improvisation—

Discord opens the door, greeting the maelstrom with an exhale.

Fluttershy turns to look at him, seated at a booth. An attempt at thoughtfulness had been made, he notes fondly: she's haphazardly upturned pillows throughout the cart, multiple curtains are hanging from different angles off their hinges, and all the windows have been propped open.

A breeze brushes against his nostrils: strawberries, bitter grounds, sea salt.

Pink hairs float along the wind's ephemeral fingers, doused in the faint glow of the full moon— the tiniest hint of green lodged stubbornly within. She's covered in dirt, much like before: except now there's flecks of metal that stick to her fur, catching and reflecting light like crystals. Her hooves are chipped and weathered; much like the rest of her, covered head to hoof in sweat and grime. From this distance, he can even see the numerous scars that criss-cross her coat like decorations, markers of intrigue and fable.

"Hello, Discord," she murmurs: it comes out quieter than the breath it took to say it, so at odds with her roaring emotions. "It's, um. Good to see you?"

Uncertainty; a hint of truth; terror at saying the wrong thing.

It's been a day— only a day. Time to a god is irrelevant; time to chaos is worth even less, but this is just hasty. Yet, there's something familiar about her, something that makes him want to stay in her orbit and soak in the soothing energy of her presence. The thing is: he doesn't know why.

Her jokes are lame, her bravery is nonexistent, and she's about as quick-witted as the average gerbil. There's nothing that he values in her: nothing of himself that he sees in her, nothing except—

-she's part storm and part honey-bee, he thinks. there's a whirlwind in that heart of hers; something that eclipses the sun, the moon, and all the magic in the world. she's chaos: warring with nature and nurture, fighting against violence with every inch of her heart and soul. she isn't one of Sun's, nor is she for Moon. her soul, storm-tossed and screaming, is for—

Chaos. He sees chaos.

Discord hasn't had a friend before. He won't ever have one, he thinks.

"Fluttershy," he murmurs back, settling down across from her. The maelstrom of her bleeds over into him; movement, emotion, life so vibrant, that it might as well be a beacon, pours from her like a deluge. "I missed you."

It was meant to be a joke: imagine his surprise when it isn't, not really.

A beat of silence, of stillness: yet, with her, he never seems to mind it quite as much.

Then, she smiles at him. Round cheeks bunch up in warmth, eyes creasing in a way that resembles half-moons. An endless sky reflects from her eyes into his; the perfect mix of blue and green. No one's smiled at him and meant it: and, if they have, it was so long ago that time has since claimed the memory of it.

"O-oh, um," a bowed head: he could reach over and tag her right now. He could. He should.

But he doesn't.

"I-It's funny that you say that," Fluttershy says with a nervous laugh, the tips of her ears going red. "I was... I was going to say the same thing."

Discord tilts his head, confounded.

"Really? Why?"

She looks at him and it's in a way that reminds him of sunshine. "You're funny," Fluttershy giggles, the sound washing over him like a tidal wave. He just raises a single brow at her. "Funny and sweet," she continues after a moment, smiling. "You..."

He blinks and it's slow, languorous, and distinctly curious.

"I'm..?"

A carefully considering quiet settles over the room, her gaze drifting thoughtfully to the ceiling. This is something that's distinctly hers, he thinks. This slow deliberation that wouldn't speed up for the end of the world; come hell or high-water. Her admission comes after a moment longer; honesty wars with guilt, now, evident in her shyly averted eyes.

"You feel like a friend," Fluttershy whispers, and it hits him like a four-wheel drive.

Discord's thoughts scatter across space and time, shoved between galaxies and temporal anomalies in tiny little pieces. His expression remains perfectly fixed in place; the picture of disinterested calm, perfected over centuries of artisanal craft.

"Ah," he says, because that's all he can say, and the fact he's been rendered speechless is torment enough.

A friend. A friend.

...Gods aren't built for friends; especially not him. Even more-so when said friend is a tiny, breakable pegasi with a heart too big for their body. Discord has a habit of... breaking things.

There's a million things he wants to say: top of the list is, 'no shot in Tartarus, not even slightly.' Second is, 'what the f—'

This is a joke; this has to be a joke; this would be a joke, except for the fact she's being completely honest.

Her eyes drift away from his and, at the sudden lacking of her attention, something in his chest burns. She stares out the window with a bittersweet look on her face, chin angled towards the cloud cover a thousand and one miles above their heads. He feels envy; he feels jealousy; he feels like he would rather be trapped in stone for another thousand years, than deal with whatever this is.

"I used to like the quiet," she confesses to him. "Before... before I fell from the clouds, before I met my friends. Before..." Her voice drifts off before finding itself again. "Just... before."

"What changed?" Discord asks, and almost wants to strangle himself immediately after. He doesn't care; not really. He doesn't.

Fluttershy turns back to him, the look on her face pointed and meaningful.

"There's a goodness in you," the pegasus tells him instead, and it's one of the few moments where she's completely sure of herself and she shines. "I... I know there is."

He shoves one of his eagle talons between his teeth, wrenching it around like a toothpick. "Really," Discord drawls, sarcastic and mean. "I thought I told you before; I'm not anything, I'm self-serving—"

"-And you are," she cuts in, glaring. He stares at her, taken aback, and that just makes him stare all the more. Fluttershy clears her throat before repeating herself, softer and sweeter. "You can be both, Discord, and you are. I just don't think you've ever been given a chance."

That irks him more than it should. He's not some charity project, he's a god, pure and simple. What kind of primordial being needs understanding from an ant, of all things?

"Is this an intervention or a game?" He demands with a sneer; a hint of cruelty creeps in and he watches her retreat into her mane with a pang. He didn't mean to do that— "In case you haven't realised, I'm the one with all the power, my dear Fluttershy. You're past preaching to the choir; you're preaching to the Pope!"

She just stares at him with wide eyes that remain perfectly calm despite the tempest raging within her; the leaf is still in her mane. It's taunting him.

"I—"

This is maddening. She is maddening.

"I'm not your friend," Discord hisses between gnashing fangs, his back pressed tight against the cushions. "You're a means to an end; you're my ticket out of Stonesville and I couldn't care less about what happens to you after that. You could die, for all I care."

If you die, the world dies with you. He doesn't know why he's doing this—

"-So whatever half-cooked fantasies you have about befriending a god, about having some hidden tool in your corner, you can forget it," he snaps, getting to his feet and looming over her. There's thunder in his head, crackling like a storm-front, and he can't stop the lightning strikes that tear from his mouth. "You're a game. You're entertainment! You've only gotten this far because I'm bored—"

Discord stops himself. He feels sick.

Fluttershy looks up at him, entrenched in his shadow. She looks hurt; more than that, she looks like her heart got ripped right out of her chest. But, hidden between that and the tears clinging to her eyelashes, something far worse lurks: forgiveness. It burns like acid, splashing red-hot against his skin and boiling it into nothingness.

She smiles at him and it tastes like misery.

"I... don't think you understand what you're saying," Fluttershy laughs wetly. "I-I think you're afraid. And, you know... I know a lot about being afraid. And..." Her vision tears away from him, locked on that skyward horizon, on her second home nestled amongst cloud and sky. "My friends taught me to believe in my friends; all of them. No matter how scared they are."

Her eyes drift back towards him, darkened. He misses the colour they were before; that bright shade of sea-green, mixing ocean and wind together as one.

"You don't consider me a friend," she observes; somewhere between sagely wisdom and simply stating the obvious. "And that's alright. You're... you're my friend either way."

He just— looks at her. She's something alien; something strange and confusing and he just can't understand her.

"Why?" Discord asks, because it's the only thing he can ask.

"B-because you've helped me, even when you didn't need to." Fluttershy manages to squeak out, her bravery becoming fleeting in the face of his onslaught. "You're kind e-even if... even if you try to convince everypony else otherwise. I know you are, deep down, because otherwise you'd have tagged me already."

His brows shoot up; surprised. She smiles at him, shy and tentative.

"I-I know bullies," she whispers, ears pinning back. "I know a lot about them. I know that they're cruel, and mean, and scary— but you," her eyes meet his again, bright and sure, and it makes his stomach swoop. "You're a lot of things. You're sarcastic, and callous, and mean at times, and don't realise when you've gone too far..."

"Wow," Discord can't help but drawl, frowning. "I feel loved; no, really. Practically showered in adoration."

"—but," Fluttershy continues, rolling her eyes with a tiny, practically nonexistent smile. It's radiant; Celestia's sun wishes it shined even half as brightly; half as warmly. "But you're also funny, and warm, and... and you're careful. You're so careful, Discord; you make fire that doesn't burn, you give my friends endless food and drink, and you've never hurt me: not even when... when I've hurt you. You don't do things just to hurt others. You do things because they— they make their own kind of sense to you. You do things because you think it makes them better, not because you're actively trying to make them worse."

Her eyes glow with faith; strawberry sweetness clings to her like a second-skin, her heart nearly bursting out of her chest. "You make a difference in the only way you know how: and in the only way you think matters. You're gentle, and you try, which is a lot more than most..."

She's wrong.

She's lying.

She's horrible and she's bluffing and she doesn't know anything; she's nothing to me, she can't read me, she can't, she's just a pony—

Fluttershy trails off, frowning.

She looks at him, concerned, and she's beautiful. It's in her eyes; in her soul; in her kindness that always seems to emanate from her every action, from her every thought—

His blood freezes in his veins.

"Discord..? Are you—?"

Discord slips out of the booth and runs.

It was another day up in the clouds for Rarity: obscene amounts of sugar, the occasional bout of anxiety, followed by an almost healthy amount of pacing in circles. Then, when it was her turn, she'd sit down at the tiny hole in the clouds and watch.

She's at the watching portion of her day, now. The tiny figures of Fluttershy and Discord had retreated into the train, so it was about as interesting as watching paint dry.

"Of course when Applejack and Pinkie Pie are watching, there's drama going on! Launching Discord halfway across a street; dramatic stand-offs; tricks and hijinks. Why, I thought it would finally be getting exciting!"

Her face morphs into a glower. A puff of cloud drifts slowly past her eyes: it's about the most exciting thing she's seen all day.

"How dull."

A piece of her mane drifts into her vision and, with an aggrieved exhale, she blows it out of the way.

Movement below catches the corner of her eye and Rarity snaps to attention, leaning as far over the cloud's edge as she dares. She squints— then, the unicorn retreats with a scandalized gasp.

"What on Equus is..."

She leans forward again, eyes blown wide as saucers.

"Why is Fluttershy chasing Discord?"

This is getting ridiculous— no, really, it is.

"Discord! Discord, slow down!"

Her throats feel like it's being rubbed raw with how hard it is to shout against the wind. They're back outside again, Discord having scrambled out the nearest exit until he was tucked away on the roof. She'd followed him and, as soon as he looked at her, he went running as if all of Tartarus was on his heels.

He's fast— she thought he was fast before, but this is just insane.

They're running along the train and, if the moon weren't so full and bright, she'd have lost sight of him immediately. Discord seems to melt into the darkness; blending in so perfectly and with steps so soundless, that it's almost like she's chasing after a ghost.

"Discord!" Fluttershy tries again, wincing. "Discord, please!"

At the rate he's going, they'll run out of train in the next few minutes. Her legs are tired— not quite as tired as her wings, but it's a near thing. She can't keep going like this, but Discord obviously doesn't seem to have the same issue. She's relatively certain that he could outrun the train itself, given the right motivation.

Which is her, apparently. Considering he's running away from her.

This isn't how this was meant to go.

"Discord!"

On the second to final cart, the one connected to the Ponyville Line cab, he finally stops. Her hooves drift against the smooth metal, struggling to find purchase, before she finally comes to a stop at his back. There's movement in the cab window; a shadow drifting against the light of the furnace. A breath leaves her and then Discord claims her attention again— not because he spoke, or moved, or anything—

...But because he's Discord, and her attention always comes back to him eventually.

"Discord," Fluttershy starts and then stops: her courage faltering. She steps towards him and stands at his back, trying again one last time. "Discord, I..."

He's a towering monolith in the darkened shroud of night, gaze fixed on some unknowable horizon. The gold of his eyes is wide: the once-glittering shade reduced to a tarnished shade of mustard yellow. Discord stares into nothingness, unmoved even by the shaking of the train, reliving things she couldn't hope to grasp and understand. The distance between them is like a chasm: even on the streets of Canterlot, with him perched atop the clocktower, they hadn't seemed so far apart from each other.

She stares at his back and can't quite understand why she wants to cry.

Not a sound leaves him. It's so different from his usual; so different from the sharp retorts and mischievous prodding, that she can't help but feel like her heart's breaking in half. Discord is noise and movement and energy; now, he's just a statue. Despondent, cold, and silent.

Fluttershy hesitates. Then, with a slow breath, she crosses the chasm and trots towards him.

Sitting down a step away, she looks out over the same horizon as him. The wind drags chilly hands down her fur and feathers, catching on the fine hairs of her mane and tail. Trembling muscles begin to ease, soothed by the evening cold.

Quiet. It's so quiet.

Discord breathes at her side in a slow and even tempo, poised like a gargoyle. She'd read about them, once, in one of the many bestiaries she'd booked out from Twilight's library: patient and protective creatures made from stone, feasting on a diet consisting only of gems.

Fluttershy breathes in.

"I made my first friend in Flight Camp," she breathes out, trying to pick out whatever curios has grasped his attention in the midnight hour. "She was... amazing. She was so brave; I was older than her by a few years, but I was always stuck wishing I was a bit more like her."

The wind howls. Discord stares at the horizon. She continues anyway.

"But even though she was brave and kind and amazing, I didn't think she was really my friend. I'd gone so long without... without having anyone, aside from my family. I didn't understand why she'd choose me; to stand by me, instead of any of the other foals in the camp. I was... Nopony. I wasn't anything."

A strangled noise drifts past her ears; but, when she looks back, he's staring off into the nothingness. Still as stone.

"..I was like that for a long time," Fluttershy continues, turning back to the stars. The moon is bright and beautiful, wrapped in a cloak of darkened hues. Peace hangs like an ornament over the night, and It's one of the many gifts that Luna's return has blessed Equestria with. "I still am, sometimes."

She giggles but there's no life in it; no joy or splendor. It's just a lifeless noise that hangs in the air, suspended on puppet strings.

"That filly followed me down to Ponyville, you know. I didn't even consider her a friend, but she still followed me here: I was... confused. Angry, because I thought... I thought she was throwing her life away. I asked her why. 'Because the sky's the same no matter where you go,' she told me. 'The only thing that changes is the ponies: and I'd rather go to a sky that has you in it, rather than one that doesn't.'"

Fluttershy smiles and it's a bitter, bitter thing.

"I told her that we weren't friends," she whispers, bowing her head. "I didn't... She could've done so much better than the Ponyville Weather Team. She was— she is one of the best pegasi Cloudsdale has ever seen. She's strong, she's determined, she even had the highest scores across everything and she could've had the world—"

-she'd never forget the look in her friend's eyes, she thinks. That split second of total agony that had turned her eyes to pinpricks, before it slowly gave way to forgiveness. She was her first teacher, and it was a lesson she never forgot-

"-Rainbow Dash could've had the world, but she didn't want the world." Fluttershy looks at her hooves, prodding at a bolt in idleness. "She only ever wanted two things: friendship, and to be a Wonderbolt. She didn't need a fancy desk-job in the Weather Factory for that. And I still... I still didn't—"

-sometimes, I still don't believe her.

"-All of this is to say that, that I... I don't know you, Discord. I really, really don't. I-I won't pretend to because I'm not good with talking and I wouldn't know how to convince you. Maybe this is— maybe I really don't mean anything to you, and that's okay, I understand. But, I'm learning about friendship- we're all learning about it, even now- and sometimes... sometimes you have to take a chance, and it won't pay off immediately, and maybe it never will. But ponies have always taken chances on me, on extending olive branches to me, but I-I've never done the same. It takes too much courage, too much strength, and I-I— I'm not that strong—"

Fluttershy breathes in, ragged and hoarse with emotions. She tries to find her calm- only to remember that it's a thousand and one miles in the air, out of her reach.

"I-I'm talking so much," she giggles, the sound falling flat in the midst of her tears. She doesn't know when she'd started crying. "All of that, and I... Discord. What I'm trying to say is this: the world can be dark, and sad, and s-scary. I don't know you, I don't understand you, and I don't know how all of this is going to end. But... maybe for now, maybe forever: Discord, I'd like to try and be your friend."

At some point, he turned to look at her. There's a misery that clings to him, she can't help but notice. A melancholy that extends beyond anything she's ever seen before.

"I don't have friends," he tells her in a low rasp. "I never have—"

"-and I never will," her mind finishes. They're so similar in the saddest of ways.

Discord looks away, staring at the train tracks disappearing beneath their feet, "you'll only die; so what's the point of it? All roads lead back to death sooner rather than later— all roads, except for mine."

Fluttershy closes her eyes, feeling the wind caress her cheeks in a way she'd once thought was loving. Thoughts flit around in her mind's eye like a thousand tiny birds, each clamoring for attention; in her heart, the dim light of hope begins to unfurl.

Then, she tips her chin to the sky and smiles.

"I think that's an even better reason for us to be friends, then," Fluttershy turns to him, eyes open and glimmering with possibilities. "When I'm gone, you can take after my animals. I've got a lot of giant tortoises that need a good and loving hoof to keep them company in the next hundred years."

The tonal change manages to startle a wide-eyed look at him, along with a strangled noise.

"I haven't even said 'yes' yet and you're still trying to maximise my immortality," Discord accuses her, affronted. She just grins at him— not quite a Pinkie Pie grin, but something close: something a bit softer. "Are you sure you're the Element of Kindness? I feel like 'Element of Extortion' might be a tad more fitting."

"You said 'yet'," Fluttershy points out, turning to look up at him. "There's jellyfish, too. Macaws, albatrosses— I even have a tuatara. I think you'd get along."

He sputters, arms moving about in a manner that can only be described as flailing. "I haven't even met the horrid hellions yet so why are you—"

"-you said yet again!" She repeats, almost vibrating with joy. "That's pretty much a yes!"

"You ponies have a gift for hearing what you want to hear," he tells her with a huff, folding his arms against his chest. He turns away from her— and, it would've made her feel disheartened, if it weren't for the fact his ears were angled to catch her voice. "You're putting me, the Master of Chaos, into employ as a zookeeper for a bunch of raggamuffins that I don't even know the names of—"

And Fluttershy jumps to her hooves, glowing.

"-so you'll just have to meet them," she tells him, serious as can be. "That's simple; I'll tell you their names, their favourite foods—"

Discord just gapes.

"My dear, we aren't even at your cottage! We're not even halfway! Actually, after reviewing my incredibly busy schedule as a, you know, god, I've decided that I'm too busy for that particular visit. In fact, I'm calling this game of ours 'quits' right here, right now."

He raises his paw, a single finger poised to poke her side. The pegasus just looks up at him and smiles: something like a challenge in her eyes.

They're on the second cart, with the one before them connected to the locomotive engine and cab. Trains don't run by themselves: somepony needs to shovel the coal, and another needs to drive it. Employees run up and down the train, keeping track of passengers and luggage— and they're all willing to listen to an Element of Harmony, especially one that's asking for help.

Shadows move in the windows; all the ponies aboard the train have been smooshed into the cart before them, waiting for some kind of signal. Fluttershy raises her hoof, then brings it crashing down.

Bedlam erupts. Sirens on the train go off, the locomotive engineer's voice is heard scrambling over the intercom, and windows get sealed shut.

Discord's finger stops, confused. Between the echoing crash of hoof against metal, something slides open— a pony comes out of hiding, wearing a conductor's hat. Their horn glows a bright blue, surrounding the coupler connecting their carts together, before it begins to come loose with a series of clicks.

From behind the conductor, a train attendant throws out a rope and, brought straight to her by the rushing wind, she grabs it in her hoof.

"Oh, um— you might have to wait a bit for that," Fluttershy tells him sweetly, all cheek and smiles. "Sorry?"

Discord stares at her, aghast. Then, his eyes narrow and he reaches out—

-the coupler comes loose with a final click and the train cart shudders. Emergency brakes begin to snap into place and the draconequus stumbles, his claws digging into the metal so he doesn't get flung off. Metal screeches against metal but, even through the noise, his eyes find hers again and they're wide with awe—

-Fluttershy moves the rope into her mouth, biting down for dear life. She dives off the disconnected train cart, wings stretched wide, and she catches the wind. The rope shifts every so often in her mouth and, in her squinted vision, she can see the train attendant and the conductor begin to pull on the rope and drag her inside. Her wings scream—

It hurts, she can't help but whimper, a few tears slipping out of her clenched eyes. The wind is strong and her wings are tender from overuse, it's torture—

Her hooves meet the metal railing and, with a final tug, the stallions manage to pull her inside. She lands on the floor with a groan, tumbling face-first into it. A mare pushes her way between the two fumbling ponies, lying down at her side.

"Are you okay?" The mare says, accented in the same way that Rarity's is, and she vaguely recognises her. Octavia, she thinks. "You look..."

Light purple eyes rove over her, wincing.

"You look like you've been better," Octavia finishes lamely. "Can you get up?"

Fluttershy's wings twitch and her whole body jolts in pain. Regardless, she manages to get her hooves under herself and begin the arduous process of standing up. Despite her screaming muscles, a sense of victory fills her— she did it. She! Did it!

But—

Discord. He was—

The pegasus steps away from Octavia, stepping out onto the viewing balcony connected to the back of the cart. Discord's still staring after her, jaw open and eyes wide in something she can almost recognise as concern.

Then, he finds her, and it melts away into relief.

"You're a sly fox," Discord howls over the wind, a begrudgingly impressed glow to his face. "No, really, you are! Honorless, I tell you. Tricks? Asking for help? Why, I could just gag."

Fluttershy giggles, smiling.

"You never said I couldn't ask others for help," she calls back, tongue in cheek. "You said the element-bearers couldn't help me. You should've thought it out better, before making the rules!"

He pauses, staring at her. Then, the draconequus falls over himself cackling, a palm slamming into his face.

"She's using my own words against me! Betrayal! Heartbreak! Death! End scene; end scene!"

Watching him stumble about in dramatics, the pegasus can't help the small smile that stretches over her face. She stares at him, fond, as he topples to the ground and begins to mime bleeding out.

Then, the engine of the train roars: smoke billows from the chimney like fire from a dragon's maw. The distance between them lengthens.

It's quiet. It feels oddly somber.

"I guess this is goodbye for now, then," Fluttershy manages between screeches of the wheels. "I'll... miss you, I think."

Discord slowly gets to his feet, standing upright on his hind-legs. He steps to the very edge of his train cart, staring after her with some odd sorrow in his eyes.

"I guess it is," he agrees after a moment, thoughtful. Then, he begins to turn his back towards her. "That was... very well done of you, to trick me like that. You made me vulnerable with the little 'friend' scene back there; well-played, Fluttershy. Well... well-played."

"Who said it was a trick?"

The draconequus stops, looking over his shoulder at her.

"I have a lot of animals that would love the company, and I have a slot free every Tuesday afternoon," Fluttershy tells him with a beaming smile, willing him to believe in her, to trust in her. "I think my life is a lot better with you in it, Discord, and I... I-I've never felt as brave as I am now with anypony— anypony, except for you."

Discord turns back around, mustard yellow bleeding back into brilliant gold. He angles himself towards her and it's like colour and sound and life filter back into him; bright and brilliant and him.

"Fluttershy..."

Whatever else he says is swept away by the night air. She stares after him nonetheless; though he's too far to hear, she can still see him— and that's reason enough.

"Good night, Discord."

She hooks her fore-hooves over the railing, leaning back onto her hind-legs. After a moment's hesitation, Fluttershy raises one into the air and waves to him— like this, it almost feels like she's saying goodbye at a train station. He lifts his lion paw and waves back, tentatively at first, before he's swinging it around with so much force that he nearly goes stumbling off the roof.

A laugh bubbles out of her, quiet and soft.

"I'll see you soon," Fluttershy whispers. "Don't give up just yet."

Author's Note

hello everyone!! i'm sorry to say, but with the rush of hooman responsibilities atm, i can't promise that i'll be able to update as regularly as i once did. i'll try to get a chapter out every two weeks from this point on, give or take a couple days! super sorry for the delay with this chapter!