All Is Calm

Chapters

Dear Somepony...
All Aboard for Canterlot
First Impressions
Kitchen Privileges
The Streets of Canterlot
Adventures in Foal-Sitting
Unicorns of Canterlot
Triple Dog Dare
Lacking Judgment
Think Twice
Simple Geology
Teas and Trees
Antithesis
Making Peace
Magic to the Rescue

Dear Somepony...

Dear Gingerbread,

How are things in Ponyville? I know you must be busy preparing for the holiday season, but I have a huge favor to ask.

As you know, I’m expecting my next foal within the month. Graham and I couldn’t be happier and Lemon Meringue is very excited to meet her new sibling. Everything is going just perfectly, except for one small problem: I was chosen to cater this year’s biggest Hearth’s Warming party. I put in a bid for the job long before we even knew we were expecting; here in Canterlot, things are planned much earlier, because they happen on such a large scale. Imagine my surprise when I won the job! It, of course, means much much more work than I already see during this busy time of year, but it also means fame, recognition and –hopefully- increased sales.

Graham and my doctor are both insisting there’s no way I can handle this alone so close to my due date and lately, I’ve found myself inclined to agree with them. There’s just so much to do and I’ve been so tired lately! There are other bakers, chefs, and cooks in Canterlot chomping at the bit to take my place (a few have even gone so far as to contact the party planner and inform her of my ‘plight’) but I refuse to miss out on this opportunity.

I was hoping that you might be willing to come to Canterlot and work as my partner. I think we could pull it off, if we work together. With my training in the fine arts of pastry and your rustic, home-style confections, we could surely turn heads! You would, of course, be able to stay with us and it would cost you so little – Yet, it could bring recognition to your shop. You would get a chance to bake for some of the finest ponies in Equestria and this would likely boost your sales exponentially.

Please consider it and let me know what you decide. Beyond just needing your help, I would love to see you and it would be great to have you here for the holidays.

Love and hugs,
Your sister,
Cupcake

Dear Cupcake,

Congratulations! Again for the foal –I hadn’t realized it was almost time!- and also for snagging such a huge opportunity. Mom and Dad must be so proud of you.

Of course I’d love to help you out. What’s family for?

There’s one thing, though. Is it alright if I bring Gusty along? I would never come without her, especially during the holidays.

XOXO,
Gingerbread

Dear Gingerbread,

Of course your special friend may accompany you! I have been dying to meet her since you first told me you took up with her. Imagine, my homey little sister with a Canterlot unicorn! I suppose it says something for our family that you, I, and dear cousin Bon Bon all have such an affinity for unicorns. I don’t suppose your Gusty has any abilities that will help us, does she? We could use all the extra hooves we can get.

No, I believe I remember you telling me once that her magic is rather peculiar, isn’t it? Not at all like most unicorns. Something more akin to an earth pony’s magic, or that of a pegasus, yes? But no matter! It will probably please her to visit her hometown and I’m sure she’ll be able to keep busy while you and I are hard at work.

Or perhaps she can help out with Lemon Meringue! The poor filly will be sorely lacking in adult attention in the weeks leading up to Hearth’s Warming. You know as well as I do how busy a baking season it is; it’s also Graham’s busiest time at the jeweler’s, what with all of the ponies rushing to buy their special somepony a gift. I’m certain Lemon would be delighted to spend time with a grown-up who’s not family and perhaps Gusty could show her some of the places she visited in her youth.

Oh, I am finding myself more and more excited, just thinking about it! I can’t wait to see you!!

Love always,
Cupcake

Dear Cupcake,

Thank you; I appreciate your willingness to put up a stranger, especially when you’re so busy.

You’re right that Gusty doesn’t have a special talent that will help in the kitchen. But there’s nothing ‘peculiar’ about her magic. It’s unique, like every unicorn’s, and I find it beautiful. I’m not certain how she’d feel about playing foal-sitter while we’re in town – She’s kind of impatient and brash and I have no idea whether she and Lemon Meringue would even get along. I will ask her, though.

I’ll be sure to let you know when our train is scheduled to arrive, once I discuss things with Gusty, settle my affairs here, and purchase tickets.

Yours,
Gingerbread

Mom & Dad-

Going to be in Canterlot for Hearth’s Warming. Staying with a friend’s sister. Might come by to see you.

-Gusty

Dear Gusty,

Please, please come see us while you are in town! Your father and I have missed you all these years and you barely write. I spend a lot of time wondering if you’re okay, since you don’t see fit to let us know. Have you found a good job? Have you made friends? Are you eating enough? Your poor mother is left to wonder, since you don’t keep in touch!

I know things were difficult for you here, but they didn’t have to be as hard and complicated as you made them, Gusty. And believe it or not, many ponies here ask about you often. What am I supposed to tell them, since you never write? I have too much pride to admit my only daughter doesn’t write, so I tell them all you’re fine and enjoying your life in Ponyville.

I know you must at least be doing well because I haven’t heard otherwise and thank Celestia for your cousin Rarity, who does take the time to keep us informed about your health and well-being. She wrote that you’ve found a special somepony. Is it true? If so would love to meet the pony who has captivated your heart.

If you don’t want to come to the apartment, at least meet with me for lunch? You’re my only child and I miss you terribly.

Love,
Mother

Dear Cupcake,

I was able to square away my business here in Ponyville. All of my regular customers who’s orders I won’t have time to fill are being referred to the other bakery in town for the holidays and Bon Bon is going to keep an eye on the shop for me.

Gusty has agreed to accompany me to Canterlot, though she’s hesitant to accept your proposal about looking after Lemon Meringue while we’re there. She was quite adamant that she will do no such thing, but maybe they’ll hit it off anyway. Stranger things have happened.

We’ll be coming in on the fifteenth on the three-fifteen train.

See you soon!
Gingerbread

Mom-

Maybe.

-G.

Dear Gingerbread,

The fifteenth is so far away, and yet it seems like there will be so little time to get everything done in preparation for your arrival! I’ve been driving Graham and Lemon mad lately putting them to work with cleaning and washing and all of the things a good host does before company comes – The things I can’t be doing in my condition. Graham is, of course, complaining every step of the way (he says we should just hire a cleaning service for the day), but he’s doing his chores all the same. I don’t think there’s anything that stallion wouldn’t do for me.

I’m sorry to hear that Gusty isn’t interested in entertaining the whims of a filly. Lemon Meringue is excited that her Auntie Gingerbread is coming and also excited to meet her ‘Auntie’ Gusty. I do hope she’ll indulge the poor filly at least a little bit; it would crush Lemon otherwise! She’s so looking forward to spending time with a grown-up pony who’s not family. I know she’s been telling her friends that she’s going to have the best school break ever. I sincerely hope she won’t be left disappointed.

Lemon Meringue and I will meet you at the train station when you arrive. Your timing is perfect! I’ll have just met her after school and we’ll wander over to the station from there. And don’t you start worrying your pretty little head about me walking so far; we certainly have the money for a cab ride both to and from the train station.

In any case, I will be seeing the both of you very soon! Travel safely!

Hugs and kisses,
Cupcake

Darling Gusty,

You can do this and everything will be okay. I’ll be with you through it all, by your side and in your heart of hearts.

All of my love,
Gingerbread

All Aboard for Canterlot

The note was so crumpled, Gusty could barely even make out the words, but that didn’t stop her from checking once more to see if it was securely zipped inside the secret pocket in her small suitcase.

It was, of course, exactly where she had left it, folded into eighths and wedged into the very bottom corner of the pocket where nopony would ever find it. It didn’t matter that she’d read it over dozens of times since she found it on the pillow beside her one morning or that she had memorized the thirty-two small words written in Gingerbread’s loopy scrawl, she still felt an inexplicable desire to read it once more.

Sitting back in her seat, the unicorn glanced about as if worried somepony would see her. Gingerbread was absorbed in a baking magazine, her unbound mane curtaining around her face and obscuring it from view. Nopony else even seemed aware of the two of them, a fact which left Gusty feeling very glad. She felt silly, relying on a scrap of paper for comfort, but still…it was nice being able to read it and reaffirm what she already knew.

She looked down at the little square of paper in her lap, turning it over in her hooves before carefully unfolding it and running a hoof over it in a futile attempt to smooth the wrinkles.

Darling Gusty…

“…Are you all right?”

Gusty jumped at the sound of Gingerbread’s voice, flailing for a moment to keep from sliding out of her seat and onto the floor of the train car.

Her head jerked up and she clutched the scrap of paper close to her chest, almost as if she was attempting to keep it out of the earth pony’s view, which was silly, since Gingerbread had written it. The other mare, however, simply ignored that, giving her a mildly concerned look, brows drawn together. “You were zoned out for, like, ten minutes, Gusty.”

For a moment, Gusty just looked at her stupidly –had she really been staring at the letter for so long?- taking in the sight of luminous blue eyes and a generous mouth framed by wisps of pink and blue hair. Gingerbread cocked her head, blinking, her own gaze never breaking from the unicorn’s. “I’m…” Gusty’s voice was quiet, her eyes darting to the side and finding the other ponies in their train car still occupied with their own business, “I’m not okay.”

“Oh Gusty…” Gingerbread scooted closer, leaning in to the unicorn’s side. She knew exactly what had Gusty upset, but no idea how to really solve the problem. Her partner’s issues were not something she knew how to deal with; the unicorn’s demons were hers and hers alone to vanquish. “You know I never would’ve asked you to come with me if it weren’t Hearth’s Warming. My sister needs help and I wouldn’t deny her that, but…” She paused, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, “The thought of you sitting at home alone during the holidays made me so sad.”

Gusty fell silent again, looking once more at the paper in her hooves.

When Gingerbread had explained to her what was going on and that her sister –whom Gusty had never even met- needed help with a catering job, she had been more than ready to just tell the earth pony to go and get it done with. There hadn’t been a single thought in her mind about accompanying Gingerbread; Canterlot was not a place she had ever wanted to return to. And she had stayed home alone before when Gingerbread had gone to visit family; Gusty was not much of a traveler, nor was she all that comfortable around strangers. But when she had shrugged the whole thing off and told Gingerbread to just go…

“I don’t know why you’re asking me, like you need permission. If you wanna go, go.”

It was late one evening a few weeks back and the two were getting ready for bed.

Gusty had just opened the window a crack, allowing in the chilly night air, and was then in the process of nesting among the blankets. Both ponies slept better in a cold room; there was a lot more snuggling to be had when one was chilly, after all, and neither of them minded a breeze, for completely different reasons.

Gingerbread was in front of the mirror, carefully untying the bow binding her mane. Most days, she kept her mane and tail pulled back, both for practicality reasons and to keep loose hairs from getting in her baked goods. Each night before bed, she went through the same ritual of running a brush through her hair, leaving it silk soft when she finally crawled into bed . “I was hoping you’d come with me…”

“To Canterlot?” Gusty snorted, rolling onto her stomach, propping herself up with one hoof and prodding at a pillow with the other, trying to get it settled just right, “No thanks.”

“But Gusty…”

At the baker’s tone, Gusty lifted her head to meet the other pony’s gaze in the mirror. Gingerbread had paused in her grooming and was staring at Gusty’s reflection, her eyes shimmering with tears, lower lip quivering.

“Don’t start…” The unicorn sighed, pulling back the blanket and patting the space beside her. Gingerbread climbed onto the bed, curling close. “Seriously. Don’t cry.”

“But it’s Hearth’s Warming.” Gingerbread’s pathetically sad expression was even more devastating up close, “I can’t just go and leave you behind!”

“I told you it’s okay.” Gusty grumbled, tugging the other mare closer at the same time. It wasn’t often that Gingerbread got vulnerable or needy; Gusty herself usually played that part in their relationship. And the unicorn was awkward enough with her own feelings that dealing with those of other ponies was a nearly impossible task. “It’s not leaving me behind if I don’t wanna go.”

Gingerbread pouted, tipping her head forwards in a certain way, a way that caused her long mane to cascade over her shoulders, the freshly brushed tresses glowing in the soft light of the bedside lamp. She stuck out her lower lip, eyes half-lidded, and when she spoke again, her voice was a mere whisper. “But I want you to come.”

Sometimes, she played so dirty.

“It’s fine.” There was no getting out of it now, anyway. The train was chugging along, getting nearer and nearer to their destination with every second. Gusty would just have to build up her walls and deal with it. “I said I would come and here I am, right?”

Her tone was brusque, though after so long, Gingerbread knew better than to believe all of her bluster. A lot of the unicorn’s tough-as-nails attitude was just for show; she’d learned a lot about putting up a front when she was still living in Canterlot.

Gusty had never been incredibly popular as a young mare; she was too uncultured and brash to really fit in with the other unicorns in her upper middleclass neighborhood, and her magic was archaic and strange compared to that of her peers. And even as a filly, she had been smart enough to know she was different and that she had to do something about it or she would be picked on and belittled.

Her defense mechanism was the impatient, aggressive persona she showed most of the world.

When they first met, Gingerbread had been put off by Gusty’s rudeness and lack of concern for others’ feelings. The first time a bored, hungry Gusty had wandered into her shop and demanded her attention, the baker had been annoyed. But as she got to know the unicorn better, she realized Gusty was lonely and awkward, not really mean and unbearable.

Gingerbread smiled, casually sliding her foreleg around Gusty’s shoulders. The unicorn tensed –she didn’t like public displays of affection much- but didn’t move away. “I’m glad you’re here.” She said softly, “I know it’s going to be really hard for you, but I think we can handle it together.”

At that, Gusty did pull away, sliding over on the seat cushion to look out at the countryside whizzing past them. She leaned her cheek against the cool glass of the window, her breath fogging the glass and obscuring the already blurry scenery.

She really, really didn’t want to be on the train, headed to Canterlot. In the years since she’d left, her mother had written to her many, many times, at first asking her to visit and later pleading with her. She’d seen her parents, of course, on the rare occasion that they’d come to Ponyville for a family event, but had not set hoof in the city of her birth since that last day. Though her parents had been supportive and understanding to the best of their abilities, she felt more at home in Ponyville, where nopony cared about what she could and couldn’t do, where she found work suited to her special talents, and where she could spend time doing outdoorsy things with Uncle Magnum.

She never would have even thought about going back, were it not for Gingerbread’s wanting her to.

“Yeah, yeah.” Gusty waved a hoof dismissively, still watching the world pass by outside the window, “I had to come. You might need me.”

Gingerbread didn’t say anything, choosing instead to settle back into her own seat and shut her eyes for a moment. She knew that Gusty’s words translated to something more along the lines of ‘thanks’ and that saying she always needed the unicorn around wouldn’t be well received. Gusty wasn’t one for emotional displays, nor was she one for romance. Gingerbread had learned early on that it embarrassed the other mare when she tried to be lovey-dovey around other ponies, so she didn’t bother, instead saving all of the more overt forms of affection for when they were alone together.

And over the years, she had grown accustomed to their having a lot of time alone together. Owning the bakery left her free to set her own schedule and work on her own time. And Gusty’s job was mercilessly undemanding, but paid well, because she worked for the town. They were able to spend a lot of time together, whether out and about, in the bakery’s kitchen, or simply at home, and both of them enjoyed relaxing in each other’s company.

The next week was going to be incredibly difficult for both of them, and Gingerbread knew it.

Staying at Cupcake’s house, there would be little in the way of privacy. Oh, Cupcake would let them share a room; she was a progressive mare and saw nothing improper about two ponies who weren’t married sharing a bed. But they would be staying in a house that was not their own, with Gingerbread’s somewhat nosy sister, a filly who always wanted to be involved in everything and seldom remembered to use her manners, and a unicorn who offered his opinions freely to anypony, whether or not they wanted to hear them.

Gingerbread had dealt with them often enough, and though she loved her sister’s family, she knew Gusty was not going to enjoy them much and would therefore be moody and irritated most of the week.

It was going to be a long, long week and Gingerbread hoped she would have the patience to deal with the demands of helping her sister and handling her testy partner.

As the train rounded the final bend and Canterlot came in to sight, Gusty’s shoulder’s tightened, her ears pinned back against her skull. As the train slowed, pulling in to the station, she seemed to fold further and further in on herself. Gingerbread watched her, fighting the natural urge to pull the other mare close and safe.

“We’re in Canterlot.” Gusty spoke the obvious without turning from the window, her voice tight and small. She was still staring out at the world, which had changed from a peaceful snow-frosted panorama to a colorful, festive blur of ponies and buildings and beautiful elegance.

Gingerbread dared to brush a hoof through the unicorn’s mane, offering quiet reassurance. “It’ll be okay.”

First Impressions

“AUNTIE GINGERBREAD!”

There was a certain standard with which most Canterlot ponies carried themselves and Gingerbread’s niece had yet to acquire it.

As soon as Gingerbread disembarked from the train, she was tackled in an exuberant hug by a blur of pale yellow and blue. The earth pony went flailing backwards, tripping over her suitcase, which a porter had just deposited on the platform. As the startled porter sidestepped the excited filly, Gingerbread landed in a snow bank, the filly on top of her making a valiant effort to squeeze the life out of her.

For a moment, Gingerbread floundered in the snow, attempting to both right herself and remove the foal clinging to her at the same time.

It didn’t go well.

Gusty watched, uncertain if she should intercede or not. Maybe this was a normal part of the little yellow pony greeting her aunt; she had no idea. She took a step forward, hesitating mid-stride, and swished her tail nervously.

She jumped at the sound of melodious laughter near her ear, turning to find herself face to face with somepony who could only be Gingerbread’s sister.

Cupcake looked an awful lot like her younger sibling, with the same pristinely white coat and similar facial features, including a wide, generous mouth and sooty lashes. Her mane was a brighter blue, however, and her eyes paler, but the resemblance was enough to leave Gusty certain they were indeed related.

The unicorn took a step back, steely gaze sweeping from Cupcake’s head to the tip of her tail. She was dressed in a pair of fur-lined boots and a plush sweater, her mane pulled back into a sleek, stylish ponytail. Even with her more refined appearance, it was remarkable how alike the sisters looked; it was almost like seeing two Gingerbreads at once, one the normal Gingerbread, the other what she would be if she ever decided to give the glamorous lifestyle a try.

The similarity ended at their waistlines, however; even the luxurious sweater Cupcake was wearing couldn’t disguise the distinctive bulge of her midsection. While Gingerbread was neither slim nor toned, but rather soft and curvy in all the right places, it was quite clear that Cupcake was quite pregnant. Gusty vaguely remembered Gingerbread mentioning something about her sister having a foal. It felt like something she was previously aware of, though she was already attempting to wipe all traces of this trip from her memory.

“You must be Gusty.” Cupcake’s voice was lyrical, without a trace of the Ponyville accent she should have brought with her to Canterlot, “I’ve heard many things about you from my darling sister. She speaks very highly of you.” Her voice was well-modulated, tone even. She spoke politely and with confidence, as if completely sure of the unicorn’s identity.

“Yeah.” Gusty glanced down at herself, at the uneven, hoof-knit scarf protecting her from the cold and the dirty snow beneath her hooves. Her mane, she knew, was frazzled from sleeping on the train, and her voice sounded a little thick to her own ears. She’d been in Canterlot no more than five minutes tops and already the familiar feeling of not belonging had crept over her. “I’m Gusty. You’re Cupcake, right?”

“The one and only!” The earth pony trilled, her laughter rising like a song above the train station, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Her smile was kind, but still dazzling, her periwinkle eyes dancing in the winter sunlight.

Then she paused, glancing back over at her sister and her daughter. “Lemon Meringue,” She called, “Stop tormenting your auntie and come over here.”

“Coming, Mother!” The filly’s voice was high in pitch and full of excitement. She galloped over to them, legs working almost too fast for the rest of her body, kicking up a spray of snow and slush in the process.

She stopped next to her mother, looking expectantly up at Gusty, who was just then getting her first good look at the foal.

She was small, caught awkwardly between the chubby stages of early foalhood and growing up, with big blue eyes. Her coat was a soft yellow, her hair a curly mass of mustard yellow and white. Her mane had been pulled back in a ponytail, fastened with a pale blue satin ribbon, and wispy curls framed her face. A jeweled barrette held most of her bangs from her eyes and a matching ribbon was tied in her tail. She had a silky blue scarf –the kind worn more for fashion’s sake than to keep a pony warm- arranged artfully around her shoulders. She looked to Gusty like a doll, the kind you could dress up but never play with.

She was also a unicorn.

All of this time, Gusty had had no clue that Gingerbread had unicorns in her family. She had always assumed that they were all earth ponies; she’d met Gingerbread’s parents and Corn Bread and Snickerdoodle were certainly not unicorns. She hadn’t been expecting any of the relatives to be anything other than earth ponies.

Though…with Cupcake living in Canterlot, it made sense she would have married a unicorn; they greatly outnumbered both earth ponies and pegasi there in the royal city.

“Hi!” The filly squeaked, breaking Gusty’s thoughts, “I’m Lemon Meringue! Are you Auntie Gingerbread’s special somepony?” She circled around the bewildered unicorn, eying her critically, “You’re not as pretty as I imagined…Short manes aren’t fashionable! And wherever did you get that scarf? It’s so icky!”

Gusty felt her face heat and she took a step back, trying to escape the barrage of thoughtless words coming from Lemon Meringue. In that moment, it really was like the years had rolled back; as a filly Gusty had never been able to fit in with her peers. She’d worn the wrong things, said the wrong things, acted the wrong way…Even after being gone so long, nothing had changed.

“I happen to like this scarf.” Gusty was not particularly fond of children, especially not the bratty, obnoxious kind, “My cousin made it for me and she’s just little,” She snapped, “but she’s a hay of a lot-“

“Gusty.” She was cut off as Gingerbread interceded, trotting over and flicking snow from her tail, “I see you’ve meet Cupcake and Lemon Meringue.” She smiled faintly in her sister’s direction, taking a moment to straighten the knot in Gusty’s scarf, “And yes, Lemon, Gusty is my very special somepony and I expect you to treat her the way you’d treat your mom or me.”

Her words were clipped, spoken in a tone that would brook no argument. Lemon Meringue ducked her head, eyes downcast. She knew from past experience that Aunt Gingerbread was a little more no-nonsense than Mother, who was often too busy to worry about Lemon’s manners and behavior, or Daddy, who only used his own impeccable manners for show while he looked down his nose at anypony he believed was beneath him.

“It’s going to be getting dark soon,” Cupcake piped up then. She’d been distracted, already paying a porter to transport her guests’ bags, oblivious to her daughter’s rudeness. “We should see about securing a cab and heading for home sooner rather than later.”

The ride to Cupcake’s house was an awkward one, to say the least.

Gusty was not particularly chatty, a fact which Cupcake seemed unable to grasp.

Fortunately –or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it- she seemed to greatly enjoy talking about herself. “…And after I discovered my special talent for creating sugar art and fancy cakes, I begged Mother and Father to allow me to come to Canterlot to attend the C.I.E. -- That’s the Culinary Institute of Equestria, you know, where ponies go to learn the finer points of the culinary arts. Of course, not all ponies with food-related talents wish to train under such amazing chefs and pastry artists as the C.I.E. employs, but to each their own, right? Gingerbread certainly does well enough for herself; so have our mother and father and dear cousin Bon Bon. I believe you know her?”

Gusty had zoned out sometime around the beginning of Cupcake’s spiel, choosing to look out the window rather than listen to the torrent of words and half-ideas pouring from the other pony’s mouth. It wasn’t that she cared about the Canterlot scenery; it was more that she cared even less about the blather coming from Cupcake.

She jerked to attention when Gingerbread pointedly elbowed her in the side, dragging herself away from the window to look at Cupcake. “Umm…Yes?” She blinked owlishly, hoping that was the right answer to the question.

“We get together with Bon Bon and her special somepony for dinner sometimes.” Gingerbread supplied helpfully, a pleasant smile stretching across her face, “Perhaps you’ve heard of Lyra Heartstrings? She’s a rather well-known harpist from Ponyville who sometimes plays at the castle.”

“Oh my, yes!” Cupcake gushed, her eyes lighting up at the thought that her sister had connections with somepony famous, “I’ve seen her perform twice; Graham loves going to the symphony and we frequent the concert hall…”

Gusty shot her partner a grateful look at the seamless change of topic; Gingerbread knew just how much she hated talking about herself – How much she just hated talking in general, especially around ponies she didn’t know well. The unicorn didn’t really handle small talk well and tried to avoid it when she could; there was no point in talking about things nopony cared about or really wanted to listen to.

And Cupcake chattered on, completely oblivious to the unicorn’s discomfort. Gusty rolled her eyes, slumping down in her seat.

It was going to be the longest week of her life.

“So, I understand that you’re originally from here in Canterlot.”

Gusty looked up from picking at her dinner, meeting the cool grey eyes of Cupcake’s husband. He was looking at her studiously, as if trying to catch some glimpse of the cultured unicorn she was supposed to be, though he was destined to fail in that task, since she knew there was nothing Canterlot about her.

“Yeah.” She mumbled, looking back down at her steaming plate of braised carrots and apples, “My mom and dad still live over in Neighbury Park.”

“That’s a decent neighborhood, is it not?” Graham Cracker was almost exactly what Gusty expected after meeting Cupcake and Lemon Meringue. He was a fussy unicorn who’d strode in to the room just as Cupcake finished laying the table for supper, nose high in the air. His caramel brown coat was sleek and shiny, complimented nicely by his perfectly coifed mane and tail. He had greeted his family warmly enough and had been polite to both Gingerbread and Gusty –when she was introduced- but Gusty could sense that he was appraising her, as if trying to deduce whether or not she was worthy of being part of their family.

It didn’t matter that she’d never met Graham before or that she really had no idea what he was truly like. She’d been on the receiving end of that kind of assessing stare many other times in her life.

“It’s okay.” Really, Gusty had hated living there; the place was full of snobs. But her mom and dad were happy and the area itself wasn’t bad, it was just full of annoying ponies. They hadn’t always lived there; but it was the home in Canterlot that she remembered best, the one they’d lived in longest.

Graham gave her another look, one that made her wonder if she was passing his ‘inspection’ or not. For a moment, he was quiet, taking a careful bite of his dinner and chewing thoroughly, then he looked back up at Gusty. “And what do you do in Ponyville?”

Ah, and there it was, the question she’d been dreading. She hated when strangers asked about her job, because she knew it wasn’t something the typical unicorn would ever do – It was more like what the earth pony her classmates teased her about being would do.

“I…” She hesitated for a moment, swallowing thickly, “Um, I work for the town-”

“Ah, you’re in politics!” A delighted Graham interrupted her, “How befitting for a unicorn of your status.”

Gusty stared at him blankly, not really comprehending at first how he could assume such a thing from the little she said. Then it dawned on her: Of course a unicorn like him would assume the best of her; it was how the elite in Canterlot were brought up to think. “No,” She frowned, brows knitting together, “Not like that.”

“Gusty works for the parks department.” Gingerbread leapt to the rescue again, knowing just what to say, “She’s responsible for the maintenance of Ponyville’s largest park. A lot of ponies spend their free time there, so it’s a very important job.”

Graham looked rather unimpressed. “I see.” He nodded brusquely, wrapping his magical aura around his fork and lifting it to spear a carrot on his plate. Gusty could practically read his thoughts and though it was unlikely he’d ever come out and say it -given he was married to an earth pony- she was almost one hundred percent certain he was wondering just why a Canterlot unicorn would be doing the menial work of an earth pony.

Gingerbread frowned a little herself at that, watching as Gusty seemed to shrink in on herself at Graham’s dismissiveness. Cupcake was oblivious, of course, so wrapped up in arguing with Lemon about eating her carrots that she took no notice of her husband’s sort of passive rudeness, but it did not escape the attention of the always-attentive Gingerbread.

She knew just how sensitive Gusty was about her magic and its roll in her job. She also knew that Gusty’s job was indeed a very important one, made a lot easier by her special talents. Yes, it was the kind of work an earth pony normally would have carried out, but without Gusty’s special magic to aid them, it was tedious, back-breaking work – That was why they had hired her to begin with. She kept the park safe and fully-functional, so that all citizens of Ponyville could freely enjoy it

But somehow, Gingerbread doubted Graham Cracker would see it that way.

Gusty abruptly pushed her chair back from the table, rising from her seat and leaving her mostly-full plate on the table. “Excuse me…” She mumbled, already halfway out of the room before anypony else fully registered her words.

At the mare’s sudden departure, Cupcake looked up questioningly, having no clue what had just happened. Graham continued eating calmly, either unaware or unconcerned that it was his thoughtlessness that sent Gusty fleeing from the room. Lemon was still ignoring the grownups, busily stacking carrots to make a tower on her plate.

“It’s been a long day,” Gingerbread said quietly, meeting her sister’s inquiring light blue gaze across the table, “And Gusty isn’t overly-social. She just needs some space.”

Cupcake nodded, though she still looked uncertain. She wasn’t used to ponies who were so quiet and withdrawn; all of her friends were just as vapid and talkative as she was. And Gingerbread herself was incredibly outgoing and kind. She’d never imagined her sister taking up with somepony who was so withdrawn.

Gingerbread forced a smile, turning back to her dinner. “I’ll check on her after we finish dinner.” It was incredibly hard to pretend everything was fine, but she really, really didn’t want to get into Gusty’s issues. Not only was it not the proper time and the place, it simply wasn’t something she was comfortable talking about and she knew Gusty would never forgive her if she brought it up. “This is really good, Cupcake. I see you haven’t lost your touch in the kitchen at all since the last time I visited.”

A bright smile stretched itself across the other mare’s face, her good humor restored just like that. “Thank you! I remembered this was one of your favorite meals and I wanted to make something I know you love for your first night here. Lemon helped slice the apples; she’s becoming a wonderful cook in her own right…”

Gingerbread returned the smile as best she could, trying to pay attention and listen as her sister yammered on, though all she really wanted to do was go chasing after Gusty to make sure she was okay.

Kitchen Privileges

Gusty woke in darkness.

She had a habit of pulling covers up over her head while she slept, as if that would somehow keep bad dreams from finding her. It seemed to work; she hadn’t had any particularly painful dreams or nightmares in some time –though that might have had something more to do with Gingerbread snuggled around her than the blanket cocoon she wrapped herself in.

Rolling over onto her stomach, she pawed at the bedding, trying to fight her way out from under the heavy comforter. A sheet was twisted around her middle, further hindering her escape from the bed.

She hadn’t slept well; the guest bed at Cupcake’s was much softer and more luxurious what she and Gingerbread had at home. The navy sheets were silky, shiny and utterly impractical, and the thick down comforter was a wine colored velour. The bed was entirely too plush and she had sunk into the mattress, unintentionally rolling into Gingerbread, who’d simply giggled and cuddled her close.

Gingerbread -who had slept on the cloud-like bed before- drifted right off to sleep, Gusty held safely against her chest.

Gusty, on the other hoof, had lain awake, staring into the darkness and trying to quiet her mind.

When she finally slept, it had been fitful. She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable when she felt like she was floundering in the plush bed.

The result was one groggy unicorn, battling her way out of the tangle of blankets.

Gusty had no idea what time it was, but Gingerbread was long gone from the bed, the space where she’d slept already cool. It wasn’t really surprising; Gusty liked to sleep in, but her partner’s profession demanded that she rise early. She didn’t often have the luxury of lounging about in bed, not if she wanted to have goods to sell for the day.

For Gusty, waking up alone was not an unusual thing. She was used to it, even if she sometimes didn’t like it.

When she finally emerged from the twist of bedding, the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg hit her nose and she inhaled deeply, taking a moment to just enjoy the scent she associated with her special somepony.

Home always smelled like fresh-baked zucchini bread and carrot cake, no matter how long after the shop had closed for the day and how cool the oven was. The scent hung in the air, heavy and welcome, and clung to Gingerbread’s mane. Gusty woke every morning to the sweet smell of spices tickling her nose and sank into bed each night, wrapped in the embrace of Gingerbread and the comforting, familiar scent.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she’d hardly eaten a thing for dinner the night before, and she pushed the blankets fully off her, stretching and brushing a hoof through her tousled mane.

Somewhere in the big, unfamiliar house, something was baking…And it smelled good.

When Gusty trotted into the cavernous kitchen a few moments later, she stopped short on the threshold, met with the sight of something that resembled controlled chaos.

Cupcake was seated at a long, low table, pressing a heart-shaped cookie cutter into a sheet of perfectly flattened dough. She worked quickly and efficiently, not pausing for a moment as she cut cookie after cookie after cookie. Her tight ponytail bobbed in time to her body’s movements and she was…singing, her voice lifting over the quiet din of the morning’s work. “Who knows another bird?” She questioned, tone lilting and playful.

“Me!” From across the room came Lemon’s excited squeak, “Chickadee!” The filly was propped on a stool, garbed in a frilly, pale pink, flour-covered apron, her own mane pulled back from her face in a loose braid. A mixing bowl sat on the table in front of her, a wooden spoon in it stirring of its own accord, wrapped in the unsteady yellow glow of a young unicorn’s magical abilities.

“And what’s a chickadee say?” Her mother smiled, glancing over at Lemon without missing a beat in the rhythm of her work.

In response, Lemon Meringue whistled, the sound starting low and rising in a decent impersonation of a black capped chickadee’s call.

Cupcake laughed at that, her pale eyes sparkling, and mother and daughter picked up the chorus of the song. “Chickadee, chickadee, fly through my window; chickadee, chickadee, fly through my window…”

“…Chickadee, chickadee, fly through my window; find molasses candy…” And joining them was a third voice, the more familiar sound of Gingerbread’s slightly off-key singing, just as happy and cheerful as could be. She was working at the counter, back to the rest of kitchen as she frosted the already-finished cookies, working carefully to decorate them to her sister’s high standards of confectionary elegance.

Nopony noticed Gusty standing there in the doorway, completely out of place in the kitchen. She had little-to-no cooking abilities and her time spent in Gingerbread’s kitchen usually revolved around her either sitting quietly and watching the other mare work, or acting as a taste-tester – a job which she greatly enjoyed.

But here, in this kitchen, she wasn’t sure what to do. There was no stool for her, like Gingerbread kept conveniently in a corner for when Gusty felt the urge to keep her company while she worked. She didn’t know where anything was, so she couldn’t simply help herself to some breakfast, and Gusty wasn’t so rude as to do so in somepony else’s house, anyway.

So she just stood there awkwardly, uncertain how to make her presence known without interrupting the happy, homey scene in the kitchen, while her stomach growled its dissatisfaction with her plan of action – Or lack thereof.

“…Find molasses-" Until Gingerbread turned from the counter to clean frosting from her hooves and caught sight of her, that is, “Good morning, Gusty!” Her easy smile spread across her face and she washed up quickly, crossing the room to rub her muzzle against the unicorn’s cheek in an affectionate nuzzle.

Gusty glanced quickly over Gingerbread’s shoulder and, finding the other two still busy at work, returned the affection, pressing a kiss against one of the earth pony’s velvety ears. “Morning…”

Gingerbread giggled, her ear flicking of its own accord at the touch. “Come on; I bet you’re hungry.” She pulled back, leading the other mare further into the kitchen, “I saved you some quiche.” She set about clearing a spot at the end of the table –clearing it as best she could, with Cupcake’s cookie cutters and scraps of dough everywhere- and pulled up a chair for the unicorn. “You sit and I’ll heat it up.”

“Good morning, Gusty.” Cupcake looked up from the rows of ready-to-be-baked-cookies she was sliding neatly onto their baking sheets, “Did you sleep well?”

“…Yeah.” It would have been impolite for her to say what she had really thought of the bed and though Gusty was a bit rough around the edges, she wasn’t that rude.

Cupcake beamed at her, trotting over to open the oven and slide the baking sheets in. “Do you have any plans for today? I’m sure you don’t want to hang around here while we’re busy with this mess and you must have friends you’re just dying to see! Gingerbread told me you haven’t been to Canterlot in years.”

Gingerbread had apparently not told her sister that Gusty’s exile from the royal city was self-imposed, or maybe it just didn’t occur to Cupcake that she may not have wanted to return to Canterlot in all those years. “No, um, I haven’t been in touch with anypony,” She mumbled, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes and sinking back in her chair, “so I don’t have any plans.” And she really, really didn’t want to talk about why she hadn’t bothered contacting anypony from her past life in the city, either, so she made a strategic change of subject. “What are you doing today anyway?”

“We’re making cookies for the tree lighting ceremony!” Lemon Meringue piped up from where she was plopped at the table, still stirring whatever was in the bowl, though with her hooves rather than her horn. She was still at an age where her magic was unpredictable and exhausted easily, but that didn’t seem to be stopping her from helping and Gusty supposed she’d learned more hooves-on ways to do things from her mother, anyway.

“There’s a refreshment table at annual Canterlot Tree of Light Festival,” Cupcake explained as she took up her spot at the table once again, collecting the scraps of dough and smooshing them together to re-roll and cut more cookies, “Providing the goodies for that is part of the catering job I took on. We’re making the cookies first, because they can be frozen and thawed easily when we need them.” She picked through the cookie cutters, this time selecting a delicate snowflake, “And they’re also the simplest to make.”

“And Miss Dazzle wants lots and lots and lots of cookies, so we got lots to do!” Lemon interjected again, reaching for a measuring cup and dumping something white and powdery into her bowl. Some of it poofed back up in her face, dimming the color of her coat, and she sneezed involuntarily, directly into the bowl.

“…Throw that out.” Cupcake sighed, making shooing motions at her daughter, “And please be more careful next time.”

“Sorry, Mother.” Lemon made a face, sliding from her chair and levitating the bowl over to the garbage, where she proceeded to dump its glutinous contents into the trash bin.

At the same time, Gingerbread set a plate of steaming vegetable quiche on the table in front of Gusty, giving her a small smile and a nudge before returning to her work.

“Did she say ‘Dazzle’?” The unicorn ignored her breakfast, turning fully to look at Cupcake, who simply blinked at her in confusion for a moment.

Then she smiled again, bobbing her head in affirmation. “Yes! The party planner I’m working with is a unicorn named Razzle Dazzle. She’s handled the Canterlot Hearth’s Warming Festivities for the past five years now and it’s been amazing working with a unicorn of her standing. Why? Do you know her?”

Gusty was silent for a moment, slowly looking around the bustling kitchen. Lemon was studiously looking at the recipe for whatever she was working on while simultaneously measuring flour to restart the batter. Cupcake was looking at her, naked curiosity and eagerness lighting her pale eyes.

And Gingerbread, back over by the counter, was watching her carefully, brow creased, an uncertain frown tugging the corners of her mouth downwards. She had no idea why Gusty was interested in the ‘fabulous’ party planner, but knew that whatever Gusty said next, it was bound to be interesting.

The unicorn shifted awkwardly in her seat, gaze dropping back to the table and the plate of food in front of her. She didn’t want to talk about it; really she didn’t. But before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling from her mouth.

“…She’s my mother.”

Author's Note

The song Gingerbread, Cupcake and Lemon are singing in the kitchen is Little Bird, Little Bird by Elizabeth Mitchell.

The Streets of Canterlot

Gusty had beat a strategic retreat from the kitchen when Cupcake’s eyes became wide and sparkly.

She didn’t doubt that the other mare would want to pump her for information about Razzle Dazzle, who was a very well-known party planner –or, as she called it, a ‘social affairs liaison’- there in Equestria. Everypony who was anypony knew that the only affair worth attending in high society was one that Razzle Dazzle planned; she organized the best parties in Canterlot and that was something the usually disagreeable socialites actually all agreed on.

And unlike most high-class ponies, she wasn’t unapproachable. Though she could be discerning in her tastes and spoke with a certain flair, Razzle Dazzle was a genuinely friendly, warm mare who rarely forgot a name or face. It was her attention to detail and love of her friends that really had other ponies clamoring to attend her events; they all wanted even a hint of a chance to make it into her social circle.

Gusty didn’t begrudge her mother her lifestyle; Razzle Dazzle had always been a loving, supportive mother. It was just that they were very different types of ponies and the younger unicorn didn’t –couldn’t- understand how her mother lived. Gusty was more like her father, who was a quiet, almost-shy stallion who had somehow enchanted the gregarious Razzle Dazzle, capturing her heart in a romance that was still going strong.

But though she loved her mother, that didn’t mean she wanted to talk about her.

And so she hightailed it out of there, stopping only long enough to fetch her scarf and saddlebag from the guest room before taking to the streets.

Outside, it was cold and snowy, the quintessential winter’s day.

Gusty paused a step beyond the door, cocking her head and looking up at the sky, letting the winter wind wash over her. Her fur prickled and the breeze tossed about her mane, fine turquoise and maroon hairs tickling across her nose, causing her to sneeze.

For a moment, she just listened, letting her body attune itself to the flow of air around her and heeding the whispers of the windsong.

Then she set off, trotting swiftly with the currents, rather than against them.

Cupcake and Graham’s house was far enough from the business and shopping areas to be located in a quiet neighborhood, though it wasn’t quite as posh as Neighbury Park, where her own parents lived. When she first stepped into the street, Gusty had only seen a couple of city employees, hard at work removing slush from the sidewalks.

She paused, watching them and wondering if anypony else even bothered to think about those who did such menial jobs. She doubted that anypony living in the neighborhood even gave them a second thought; they did the kind of behind the scenes work that wealthier ponies would assume was just done. None of them would ever think about the hard-working earth pony shoveling the slush into neat piles, or the unicorn busily melting the ice on the sidewalk with a wash of shimmering green magic.

The kind of work they were doing, however, struck a chord with Gusty, who sometimes performed similar tasks in the park.

Despite the fact that their work was hard and thankless, they were laughing and chatting amongst themselves, choosing to enjoy each other’s company rather than grouse about their jobs. The unicorn mare pranced through the snow, kicking up a slushy spray as she went, and quickly clearing a path others could safely traverse. Both her tail and the ends of her scarf flew behind her as she trotted down the sidewalk, twisting in the wind. The stallion followed behind her, shoveling the melted ice and snow into the gutter and whistling, his breath coming out in little puffs of white.

They looked so happy, cheeks rosy, eyes sparkling in the pale sun of the winter. For a moment, as she watched them, Gusty wished she had somepony to work with; somepony to make her job seem more fun. She was appreciated for what she did, but –for the most part- she worked entirely alone.

That thought fled quickly, however; she was not an overly social individual and there was only one pony with whom she would have wanted to spend all of her days.

Shaking her head at the frivolous thought, she stepped past the hard-working duo and trotted on, not really sure of her destination, but suddenly intent on getting there all the same.

The further into the heart of Canterlot she ventured, the more ponies she encountered.

The royal city was a hub of activity with ponies of all shapes, sizes and colors bustling about. It wasn’t like the folksy Ponyville, where everypony knew each other and called exuberant hellos to one another; Canterlot was much more subdued, though still noisy and crowded. The buzz of the city was that of a different kind, primarily the clatter of hoofsteps and the sound of carriages, city workers, and quiet, dignified conversation.

Despite the fact that she’d grown up in Canterlot, Gusty had grown accustomed to the warm, open atmosphere of Ponyville. Though she herself was quiet and socially awkward, and the familiarity of the other ponies usually only annoyed her, there was something comforting about being in Ponyville, something magical and unlike the cold sophistication of Canterlot. She had grown accustomed to the little country town’s charm and felt far more at home there than in the royal city. There in her hometown, she just felt even more out of place.

At least nopony in that part of town knew her; she was able to roam freely through the shopping district without worrying that anypony would tease her about her lack of magic as some of her neighbors in Neighbury Park had done.

She’d had no real plans when she set out, other than maybe getting ideas about what she could give Gingerbread for a Hearth’s Warming present. They didn’t often get too elaborate with one another on holidays or birthdays; Gingerbread was a simple pony who didn’t ask for much and Gusty’d had her fill of all things lavish when she lived with her parents.

But she felt like this year was different; like she needed to do something special. She knew she’d been unbearable lately and wanted to show Gingerbread how much she cared, something she had a difficult time doing because she was so incredibly awkward when she tried to express her feelings.

Upon entering the shopping district, she glanced around, taking in storefronts and peering curiously through windows at displays. Everything there in Canterlot was so expensive and frivolous; so impractical. Though she had the money to purchase an expensive gift, it didn’t seem quite right.

What would Gingerbread want with any of the things stuck-up ponies bought? She didn’t need perfume; the warm, sugary smell of her baking was much more appealing than some overpowering floral scent. A fancy dress or hat or any of the city’s innumerable baubles were utterly impractical. They never went anywhere that Gingerbread would need to wear such a thing. And there was no reason to buy her any of the gourmet sweets or treats available for purchase, not when the earth pony made the best goodies Gusty had ever eaten.

Turning down another street, Gusty paused to look at a window display full of snow globes, wind chimes, music boxes and other delicate keepsakes. She cocked her head, pondering the beautiful knickknacks; would any of them be good gifts? For other ponies, probably. But not for Gingerbread…She couldn’t imagine giving the baker such a thing as a present. Who needed something like that, anyway?

How would she come up with a decent gift, one which would let the earth pony know how much Gusty loved her? In past years, she had given Gingerbread practical gifts: a new rolling pin, cookie cutters, a heart-shaped baking pan. Things she could and did use in her everyday work. But none of those things seemed really right, either.

Gusty sighed, stepping away from the window and its display of frivolity. There was nothing here…Nothing perfect for the mare she loved.

“Look out below!”

A harried voice startled her from her thoughts, just as Gusty stepped off the curb to cross the street. She froze mid-step, looking around for the source of the voice. Before she located the pony in question, however, something solid and yellow came careening towards her, landing in a heap of dirty snow piled in the gutter. Gusty quickly backpedaled, but couldn’t avoid the spray of filthy slush.

“What the hay!” She squawked, giving herself a shake and attempting to wipe the cold wetness from her coat. “What in the bucking-”

“Awesome!” The thing turned out to not be a thing at all, but a leggy pegasus mare with a buttery yellow coat. She rose inelegantly from the snow, giving herself a rough shake and sending little bits of melting ice flying, unconcerned with the passersby who were watching the scene unfold with a mixture of disapproval and curiosity. “I thought that was you and I was right!”

Gusty frowned deeply, ceasing in her futile attempt to clean mud from her scarf and taking a second to really look at the other pony. Her mane and tail were a darker almost-golden yellow, both bound back in tight braids, and her eyes were a salmony-pink color, wide and sparkling. She was tall, and whipcord thin, seemingly all legs. A bright, familiar smile stretched across her face and she pranced in place a little, beaming and eager.

“…Lofty?” Gusty squinted at her; if this was indeed her old friend, something had changed about her. She didn’t remember the pegasus being so tall and lean. Lofty had always had a softness to her that this pony did not, something that was likely a holdover of her being a mother and having never burned off baby weight. But then…Wait. Oh. “Baby Lofty?” She tried again, lifting her head to meet the younger mare’s eyes.

“Right!” The yellow pegasus clapped her front hooves together excitedly, the smile stretching even further, “I was just flying along and I saw you and thought to myself ‘wow, that pony looks an awful lot like Gusty!’ I thought you’d left and never came back! But I totally couldn’t help checking to see if it really was you and I was right!”

“You’re not really much of a baby anymore.” Gusty commented, uncertain what else to say. It was true, though; the last time she’d seen the pony standing before her, Baby Lofty had been much, much smaller, though just about as exuberant and, well, annoying.

Not-such-a-baby Lofty grinned again, puffing out her chest, “You’ve been gone a long time! I’m all grown up.”

Five years probably was a long time, to the young mare. And it certainly felt like a lifetime ago since Gusty had left Canterlot. Her life there in the royal city had to have belonged to somepony else; many memories of those days were faded and dim, like something out of a book she’d read long ago. “How’s your mom doing?” Gusty asked, stepping back on to the sidewalk and out of the way of the flow of both foot traffic and carriages.

Lofty shrugged, hopping up next to the unicorn and folding her wings with a rustle of damp feathers, “I dunno. She took off with Paradise last year and I’m lucky if she remembers to send me a postcard now and then.”

“’Took off with Paradise’?” Gusty cocked a brow, giving the younger pony a curious look. Paradise was another mare she knew from the old days, the quintessential Canterlot pegasus who had grown up in luxury and spent her parents’ money traveling Equestria and lands beyond its borders. “Like…on an exploration expedition?”

“More like a honeymoon.” Lofty snorted, rolling her eyes. Her mother had been born and bred in Cloudsdale, but found the pegasus city boring and predictable. She’d longed for excitement and danger –that was how she’d wound up with baby Lofty- and had one day woken up, decided she could no longer bear life in the cloud city, and had taken off for a round the world trip that eventually ended in Canterlot, a hoofful of bits and her tiny foal tucked securely in a saddlebag for the long flight. She’d managed to make it in the royal city; rich ponies looking for excitement flocked to her for travel advice, lured by the tales she spun in the travel section of the Equestrian Daily.

It was how she’d met Paradise; the other mare loved a good story almost as much as she loved traveling to exotic locations.

It didn’t really surprise Gusty that much to hear that the two pegasi had taken up with one another. If there was ever a match made in heaven, it was those two. They were both flighty and dramatic and full of wanderlust. It surprised her more that it had taken them as long as it had to realize they were perfect for each other. “…She didn’t just leave you by yourself, did she?” She queried, almost afraid to hear the answer. Little Lofty may have grown, but she was still not an adult.

“Oh, no!” Lofty smiled again, a subtle blush creeping its way across her muzzle, “She kind of dumped me on Fizzy’s doorstep before she left and I’ve been staying with her until I head off to Cloudsdale next spring for my flight academy exams. It’s been awesome staying with Fizzy and I help her in the shop and stuff. It’ll be real hard to go to Cloudsdale all alone.”

“You can always come back after?” At the tone of her voice –wistful and longing- Gusty felt an uncomfortable twisting in the pit of her stomach; something was setting off her alarms and again reminding her how awkward she felt around other ponies. But then, Fizzy herself had always made Gusty feel incredibly awkward; she was an unusual mare, bubbly, loud and eccentric where most Canterlot unicorns were much more subdued. But Fizzy’s exuberance and touchy-feely-ness hadn’t made her feel uncomfortable in the same way as most Canterlot ponies had, but rather in a way that had made her feel warm and strange, a way she had never felt before.

It seemed Fizzy had Lofty under the same spell.

“I’m gonna come back after. Mom got me a private tutor here to teach me to fly,” She rolled her eyes again at the thought of the tutor, who was possibly one of the most boring, scientific teachers she had ever encountered, “but there’s no real flight academy here, so I gotta go to Cloudsdale for my exam.”

“I see.” Gusty replied, not really seeing at all. She didn’t know much about pegasi, other than the fact that they were in charge of the weather and the crew in Ponyville sometimes helped her with clean-up in the park after a particularly bad storm.

“And I-” Whatever Lofty was about to say next was cut off by the distant peeling of a clock tower’s bell. One of her ears swiveled in the bell’s direction and she listened, counting the number of chime’s as they signified the hour. “Aw hay!” She swore, springing to action, unfurling her wings and priming them for flight, “I gotta go or I’ll be late!”

Gusty blinked, startled by the younger mare’s frantic actions. When Lofty backed up a few steps, lifting her wings, the unicorn noticed for the first time the bulging saddlebag she wore, the contents of which clanked together as she took off. “You remember where Fizzy’s shop is right?” She called down to the unicorn as she headed off, “Come by sometime! I bet she’d love to see you!”

She didn’t wait for a response, just fluttered off in a kind of wobbly arc over the street, pumping her wings as hard as possible.

And Gusty stood on the sidewalk, watching her departure with a thoughtful frown on her face.

Then she shook her head again, trotting off towards another shop and trying to focus again on finding a Hearth’s Warming gift for Gingerbread, a task which suddenly seemed even more impossible than before, with her mind wandering a million miles away to Neighbury Park.

Adventures in Foal-Sitting

“We have a really important meeting with Razzle Dazzle today. I really, really need you to please keep an eye on Lemon Meringue; we can’t bring her with us and Graham is already at work selling his pretty jewels.”

Hearing that statement was decidedly not how Gusty wanted to begin her Monday morning.

Cupcake was looking at her across the breakfast table, eyes big and pleading, hooves clasped together in front of her. “It’s only for a few hours while we get things squared away for the Tree Lighting Ceremony!”

The unicorn sighed, frowning down at her bowl of orange cranberry oatmeal as if it had offended her. “I dunno…I’m kind of awful with kids.” Gusty muttered, pushing her spoon absently through the hot cereal. And she really did avoid foals for the most part; she tended to make them cry with her brusque attitude and thoughtless words. And with the exception of her cousin Sweetie Belle, who didn’t mind getting dirty or arguing back with her, most of them avoided her as well.

“But she was so looking forward to spending time with her new ‘auntie’.” Cupcake pouted dramatically, glancing over at Lemon, who was ignoring the entire conversation in favor of shoveling sugary cereal into her mouth at an alarming pace. “And it would be so good for her to spend time with an adult other than one of us or her teachers…Especially another unicorn.”

Gusty flinched at that; it would have seemed like a dig, except Cupcake was completely ignorant to her issues with magic. But if the other mare expected her to teach Lemon something –if Lemon herself expected that!- she would be sorely disappointed; all Gusty could teach her was how to be a spectacular failure.

“I don’t know…” Gusty looked back up, this time in Gingerbread’s direction, silently begging her special somepony to help her out of this situation before it blew up in her face. “I’m really, really not good with fillies. I make them cry a lot.”

“She does.” Gingerbread sipped calmly at her morning mug of tea, smiling over the rim at her partner, who glared in return, “She’s the worst.” Despite the unicorn’s trepidation over the situation, she was certain Gusty had what it took to handle her sister’s loud-mouthed, spoiled daughter. Lemon Meringue was used to running wild when her parents were busy and being regarded as the perfect filly when they were not. Gusty would never put up with her nonsense and Lemon needed an adult like that in her life. “If she says she can’t handle Lemon for a couple hours, you should find a back-up sitter.”

Egging her on was a good way to get Gusty to agree to watch the filly.

Gusty shot her A Look, snorting a little and turning a suspicious gaze to Lemon, who was then blowing bubbles in a glass of chocolate milk, her mother apparently completely oblivious to her dreadful table manners. “If I do this…” She said slowly, despite the fact that she really, really didn’t want to, “you have to promise not to say anything about me to my mom.”

A delighted smile broke out on Cupcake’s face and she practically squealed with glee, “Oh, I promise! I can tell you want to surprise her and outdo her at her own thing. What a fabulous idea!”

“I mean it, Cupcake!” Gusty’s eyes narrowed; she’d spent only two days in Cupcake’s presence but already suspected the mare couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, “I’m not ready for Mom to show up here and start pestering me.”

Cupcake opened her mouth to speak again, but Gingerbread cut her off. “Don’t worry, Gusty. I’ll make sure we stick strictly to business. I don’t really want to spend my whole time here in Canterlot away from you, after all.” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes, and Gusty couldn’t help a small, goofy smile in return.

“Fine. I’ll keep an eye on her for a few hours…And it better only really be a few!”

“Goodbye, Lemon darling! Be on your best behavior for Auntie Gusty, please!” Cupcake called over her shoulder as Gingerbread ushered her out the door. The white mare had already given Lemon multiple kisses, hugs and goodbyes, and seemed to be having a difficult time leaving, despite the fact that it was her idea for Gusty to watch the filly.

“Bye, Mother!” Lemon waved enthusiastically, watching as her mother and her aunt disappeared into the morning, their tails bouncing as they trotted off to catch a cab. Then she turned and looked expectantly up at Gusty, who was loitering behind her in the hall. “Well…?”

“Well what?” The older unicorn asked, cocking her head as she looked down at the filly, “Go play.”

“No no no!” Lemon shook her head furiously, curls bobbing around her face. Her mane was left down that day and, though it had been brushed, it had already become a wild tangle once again. “That’s not how it works. You’re the foal-sitter…You’re supposed to play with me!”

“I don’t really play, Lemon.” Gusty frowned, already regretting that she’d agreed to this. If this was the way the filly was going to be, it was going to be a very long morning indeed, especially with the big, watery eyes Lemon had turned her way – She knew all about that look from Sweetie Belle. “But, uh, I might know somepony who will play with you.”

Lemon Meringue had been mirroring the frown until Gusty mentioned the possibility of another pony getting involved. Then her eyes lit and she grinned, voice crackling with excitement. “Really? Who? Is it somepony pretty and fun and exciting and where are they?” She did that certain kind of little excited dance that only foals seemed capable of performing, mane bouncing around her face, “Let’s go!”

The elder unicorn gave her a strange look, brow quirked. She really had limited experience with children and was beginning to suspect she might be a bit out of her depth. “…It’s cold outside. We’re not going anywhere until you put on a scarf or something.”

“Oh!” Lemon’s frenetic movements came to an abrupt stop, “Be right back!” And with that, she scurried off, practically tripping over her own hooves in her hurry to grab some winterwear.

“Where’s your scarf?” Lemon asked moments later as they set off into the frosty morning. She had returned almost as quickly as she departed, wrapped up in a wooly pink scarf, a matching beret perched on her head. Apparently, she had more outerwear than the entire town of Ponyville combined; Gusty had been there only three days and had already seen twice as many different hat and scarf combos on the little unicorn.

Gusty didn’t bother modifying her usual brisk pace for the filly, she just trotted swiftly down the sidewalk, Lemon hurrying to keep up. “It got dirty yesterday.” She commented absently, “I haven’t had a chance to wash it yet.”

“You should’ve told me!” Lemon suddenly appeared beside her, little legs pumping to keep up with Gusty’s much longer stride, “I could’ve let you borrow one.”

“…No thanks.” The white unicorn didn’t often feel the cold, anyway. The wind was such a part of her that she could be out in it and barely notice. Though the seeping chill of winter did affect her, it wasn’t to the extent that most other ponies felt it. “I’m fine.”

“You’ll be cold!” The filly chided, turning up her nose and flouncing on a little ahead, even though she had no clue where they were going. Then she paused, looking over her shoulder, an odd, confused look on her face. “And why aren’t we going to get a cab? We always take a cab!”

“Why?” Gusty looked right back her, gaze level, “Don’t your legs work?” She had always hated the idea there were ponies in the world that were too lazy to walk places, ponies who instead chose to have somepony else carry them. It seemed stupid to her; unless they were incapable of doing so, everypony should have relied on their own four hooves to get places within close proximity.

“My legs work fine!” Lemon snapped, eyes wide, “It’s just…We always take a cab!”

“If you don’t think you can manage to walk across town,” Gusty deadpanned, “We can forget it and go back to your house.” She wasn’t manipulative by nature, but over the years, she’d learned from Gingerbread how to sometimes say the right thing to sway another pony in her direction. How could she not have learned? Gingerbread did it often enough to her, after all.

“No no nono!” At that, Lemon’s already impossibly huge eyes widened even more, her mouth falling open. She shook her head, once again prancing in place, this time anxiously. “I want to go and meet your fun friend!”

“Then come on.”

Gusty did indeed remember the way to Fizzy’s Soda Fountain, despite the fact that she hadn’t been there in over five years.

When she was in magic school, most of the other unicorns in her class had either laughed openly at her, or shunned her outright. But Fizzy had gone out of her way to make friends with Gusty, despite the fact that the white unicorn didn’t really want any friends. Fizzy simply wouldn’t take no for an answer and she persisted, until an incredibly lonely Gusty relented and finally started to hang out with her.

Fizzy herself was an unusual mare; she didn’t care one whit about what other ponies thought about her, something that was practically unheard of there among the elite in Canterlot. She kept her wavy mane and tail cropped short when others were wearing theirs long, her mane usually pushed back by a headband sporting a large bow. She didn’t bother with fancy jewelry or other accessories, often instead wearing costume pieces that were incredibly loud or gaudy. While most young mares their age were obsessed with their figures, Fizzy ate whatever she pleased, unconcerned with the possibility of getting fat. Nothing about her was conventional and she didn’t give a hay.

Adulthood had hardly changed her, which was precisely why she was the only pony in all of Canterlot who could manage to –or even want to- run a successful soda shop.

The familiar scent of ginger hit Gusty’s nose as she pushed open the door, spicy and already warming her through. Fizzy brewed all of her own drinks, from ginger ale to birch beer to sparkling cider, and almost all of her bubbly concoctions slid smoothly down, cool, golden and amazingly exotic. Since leaving Canterlot, Gusty had never tasted anything quite like Fizzy’s drinks, not even Sweet Apple Cider.

The shop was empty; it was too early in the day for most ponies to even be considering Fizzy’s sweet brews, and Gusty knew it.

It was, therefore, the perfect time for her to put in an appearance.

“Wow…”

Upon trotting into the shop, Lemon plopped down on her haunches, staring wide-eyed at the whirl of gaiety that covered the walls of the shop. As always, Fizzy had overdone it with the holiday decorations; brightly-colored baubles and ornaments of all sizes and shapes hung from the ceiling and the walls were lined with sparkly garland and twinkling lights. A jar of rainbow striped candy canes was on the counter and a huge Tree of Light –just as over-decorated with tinsel and ornaments and lights as the rest of the shop- was tucked into a corner, the tables around it shoved askance to make room for its branches.

A scratchy record of Hearth’s Warming carols was playing from somewhere behind the counter, where Fizzy was polishing glasses, eyes shut, body swaying as she hummed along to the tune.

At the sound of Lemon’s awed whisper, she looked up, magenta eyes sliding open. For a moment, she just stared, mouth gaping open. “…Gusty?”

The unicorn in question shuffled a little awkwardly, rubbing her foreleg with a hoof and glancing over at the tree. She wasn’t really sure what to do; Fizzy was bound to have some over-the-top reaction to her presence and the very thought of that made her uncomfortable. “Uh…Hi?”

“OHMYGOSH!” Fizzy was out from behind the counter in a flash, the glasses forgotten, towel on the floor, a manic grin splitting her face, “Oh my gosh; oh my gosh; oh my gosh!” And then she was hugging the life out of Gusty, squeezing her so tight she could barely breath, “It’s really, really, really you!”

“Fizzy…” Gusty grunted, trying vainly to peel the teal unicorn off her, “Lemme go.” She should have been expecting that. Really, she should have. It was silly not to. Fizzy had always been very hooves-on in all situations and she loved hugging other ponies, whether they wanted her to or not.

“But I’m just soooooo excited to see you!” Fizzy giggled, releasing Gusty and taking a step back, “Lofty told me you were in town, but…I just couldn’t believe it! You’ve never come back to Canterlot and you always said you never would!”

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Fizzy hadn’t changed at all over the years. Her pink, white, and teal mane was still cropped short and held back from her face, that day with a festive red and white striped headwrap. She was still a little chunky, her body curvy and softy, but given her profession and the amount of junk food she’d always consumed, that was no surprise.

Gusty wondered what Fizzy saw when she looked at her. Did she look as disenchanted with the world as she usually felt?

“Lemon,” Gusty said, desperate to break the somewhat awkward silence that had fallen over them. When the filly glanced in her direction, she beckoned her over, intending to introduce her to the older unicorn. “C’mere.”

Lemon Meringue pranced over, her little body practically vibrating with excitement.

Fizzy turned at the filly’s approach, apparently only just noticing the smaller pony’s presence in the room at that moment. “Oh, who’s this?” She crouched down to be on eye level with the little unicorn, tipping her head from side to side as she studied her, “Gusty, is she-”

“No!” Gusty cut her off quickly, not particularly liking the track that train of thought was headed down, “Fizzy, for me to have a filly her age, I’d’ve had to have her before I even left Canterlot!”

“…Oh.” Fizzy blinked, looking between the other two unicorns. Then she grinned, eyes crinkling shut, “Of course! Silly me!” She giggled, not at all embarrassed to have made such an assumption.

“She’s my girlfriend’s niece,” Gusty glanced at Lemon, who was standing near her, eyes still impossibly wide, “I got roped into foal-sitting.”

“I’m Lemon Meringue!” The little filly butted in, still wriggling with glee, her mane bouncing around her face, though she seemed to be making a very conscious effort to calm herself and remember some semblance of manners. She politely inclined her head, as her mother had taught her, and offered the older unicorn a hoof. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Fizzy grinned, shaking the filly’s hoof genially. “Nice to meet you, too. My name is Fizzy and this is my shop.” She waved a foreleg, gesturing vaguely at the entirety of the room in all its splendor, her own eyes sparkling as she gazed about at her decorations.

“It’s so pretty!” Lemon squeaked, manners flying right out the window again, “We have Hearth’s Warming decorations at home, but nothing like this! The colors are beautiful and all the decorations are sooooo sparkly!”

“And you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” Fizzy chirped, her own body matching the excited movements of the filly, short curls flying around her face as she pranced in place, “Come on in the back and I’ll let you taste today’s special flavor, Cranberry Sparkle. I just added the fizz a little while ago!” Another grin crossed her face, and she lit her horn, sending a burst of pale pink bubbles swirling through the air.

Lemon squealed with delight, clapping her front hooves together excitedly before following the mare into the kitchen.

Gusty trailed behind, rolling her eyes at Fizzy’s antics and scowling as one of the magic bubbles collided with the tip of her horn and popped.

Unicorns of Canterlot

It was cold and snowy, the kind of weather that Gingerbread usually avoided; the kind that left her wanting to stay home, in her warm, cozy kitchen, freshly baked cookies cooling on the counter, a mug of steaming hot cocoa warming her hooves and tummy alike.

Instead, she was standing just beyond the gates of Canterlot, where the city’s Tree of Light stood in all its majesty, waiting to be decorated and lit.

She hadn’t been expecting an outdoor expedition when Cupcake had suggested she accompany her to the meeting with Razzle Dazzle. Knowing her sister as well as she did, Gingerbread had anticipated a morning tea or brunch or some such hoity-toity frivolity where very little work would be discussed. She loved Cupcake, but the older mare had always had her heart set on being part of the upper class and having nice things and this opportunity was certainly another rung on the climb up the social ladder.

And that assumption was why Gingerbread was shivering in only the matched hat and scarf set her friend Cherry Pie had given her last Hearth’s Warming, while her sister and the elegant Razzle Dazzle were much more appropriately bundled against the winter weather.

“Galaxy will be coming by that morning to decorate the tree and make sure all of the lights are secured properly before it’s lit later in the evening,” Razzle Dazzle was saying, “She’s shown me her plans for this year’s decorations, which are, as usual, quite beautiful. Your tables will already be set in place when you arrive to start laying out the refreshments. The Tree Lighting Ceremony is open to anypony who wishes to come and I always anticipate a large, large crowd. I know you will be certain to prepare enough goodies for any number of ponies.”

“Oh, of course.” Cupcake nodded eagerly, “We’ve been quite busy with the baking and decorating. I’m certain we’ll have more than enough of everything.”

“Excellent.”

Gingerbread was watching the two of them, not really having anything to say. She was a kind of quiet mare to begin with and this was Cupcake’s project in the end, so she let her sister do all the talking. She was listening to the conversation, in case anypony wanted her input, but mostly, she was just observing Razzle Dazzle.

Gusty did not keep any pictures of her parents on display in their house. Gingerbread had only once seen a glimpse of a hidden snapshot of her special somepony as a foal, wrapped in a gold and orange blanket and nestled securely in her parents’ forelegs, both of them beaming with pride. It was an old photograph, and a little crumpled, and didn’t very well show what her mother and father looked like.

And given Gusty’s somewhat unremarkable looks, Gingerbread had been vastly unprepared for the slender, elegant unicorn that was her mother.

Razzle Dazzle was tall and lithe, her every movement graceful. She carried herself well, without putting on an air of superiority, and her aquamarine eyes were kind. She had a flowing, shiny mane, long enough to still trail along her shoulders, even half pulled up with a mother of pearl hairclip. She was wearing a fur-lined cape, fastened around her shoulders with a satin ribbon tied in a perfect bow, the luxurious fabric somehow doing little to conceal the fact that she was model-thin and quite beautiful.

Gingerbread completely understood why Gusty didn’t feel all that comfortable around her mother.

She could see some similarities between them, however. Razzle Dazzle’s mane and tail were predominantly the cranberry-ish color that streaked through Gusty’s teal hair, highlighted with little swirls of lighter pink. They had the same pristinely white coats, though Razzle Dazzle’s fur looked softer and sleeker than Gusty’s -- Probably the result of a much more thorough daily grooming routine. Gusty had her mother’s smile, though she wasn’t as quick to use it, and they both had a similar sway to their hips when they walked.

But beyond those few small likenesses to their looks, Gusty and Razzle Dazzle were complete opposites. The elder unicorn was polite and refined where Gusty was impatient, brash and somewhat rude. Razzle Dazzle was brimming with confidence and self-assurance, while her daughter had numerous self-esteem issues. And Razzle Dazzle seemed to enjoy whimsy and frivolity and Gusty hated those sorts of things.

She watched as the other two mares continued to talk, taking in their body language as well as listening to the discussion about the list of refreshments Cupcake was in the process of completing. Gingerbread thought her appearance at this meeting was a waste of time that could have been spent in the kitchen -especially with how much they still had to do- but had agreed to come mostly because she was so incredibly curious about Gusty’s mother.

Attending had certainly proved not to be a waste of time.

“You’re not very much at all like your sister.”

Gingerbread looked up from the steaming cup of herbal tea she was enjoying, meeting Razzle Dazzle’s gaze across the table.

They were seated at a corner table in an elegant bistro, where the trio had gone for brunch after leaving the undecorated tree. Gingerbread had never been to a restaurant so fancy before and it was somewhat unnerving that casual dining in Canterlot was on par with fine dining in Ponyville. She’d felt out of place and somewhat uncomfortable surrounded by wealthy ponies who spoke mostly of things she didn’t really understand –especially after Cupcake had spotted an acquaintance and politely excused herself from their company- but the fine china teacup full of spearmint tea sitting before her had done a lot to soothe her nerves.

“Yes,” She agreed softly, “Cupcake and I are quite different.” She offered the older mare a small smile, settling comfortably in her seat. Here was a topic she could discuss without feeling too out of her depth.

Razzle Dazzle easily returned the smile, levitating her espresso up to her lips and taking a dainty sip. “She has told me a lot about you,” she said, “Cupcake does love to talk, doesn’t she?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, an amused expression flitting across her face. “I understand you live in Ponyville.”

“It’s our hometown.” Gingerbread explained, pausing for a moment to pour herself another cup of tea, still delighting in the little teapot the server had left on the table for her personal enjoyment. She’d never been to a restaurant that offered personal teapots to all their diners before. “Mom and Dad still live there, too, and one of our cousins owns a very successful candy shop.”

The unicorn looked at her for a moment, a small frown spreading across her face, eyes darkening beneath thick lashes. Then she smiled again, gaze sweeping somewhere across the room and resting on the distant form of Cupcake chatting with her friend. “My daughter lives in Ponyville.” Something about her voice carried an underlying sense of distress; as if this were an incredibly painful topic to discuss, “Perhaps you know her?”

At the question, Gingerbread’s heart began to pound. Gusty had asked them not to mention her to her mother, but…She wasn’t a very good liar. How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t know Gusty when she had been living with and loving her for three years? “I…might.” She replied awkwardly, uncertain what to say. A part of her wanted to hear Razzle Dazzle talk about Gusty without knowing that Gingerbread was living with her daughter; without knowing that the baker loved Gusty fiercely. Another part wanted to reassure the older mare that Gusty was indeed loved and looked after. And a smaller part wanted desperately to keep her word and not talk about her partner at all.

“She’s…” Razzle Dazzle began, hesitating and unsure of herself for only the first time in the entire morning. She was quiet again for a moment, turning back to once again meet the gaze of the earth pony sitting across from her, eyes shimmering, this time with tears. “Her name is Gusty.”

Gingerbread was well aware of the fact that Gusty had never once gone to visit her parents in the time that had passed since she moved away from Canterlot. She also know that her partner had always discouraged them from coming to Ponyville. And there, looking at the mother of the mare she loved, who was obviously hurting and hungry for information about her daughter…Gingerbread felt like her heart was breaking just a little.

“I love her so much!” She blurted out before she could stop herself, the part that wanted to assure Razzle Dazzle winning out over the other two.

Then, realizing what she’d said, she clapped her front hooves over her mouth, eyes wide. She hadn’t meant to say that; Gusty –for whatever reason- wasn’t ready to face her mother yet and Gingerbread had blown it.
There was a long silence in which Razzle Dazzle just stared at her, her own almond-shaped eyes going wide, mouth falling open, all without drawing attention to herself like most ponies Gingerbread knew would have done. Even in her surprise, she still managed to somehow look elegant.

“You…?” Razzle Dazzle blinked, long lashes sweeping across her cheeks, “You’re the special somepony Rarity wrote to me about?”

Again, Gingerbread was momentarily at a loss for words. The unicorn’s face had gone blank and she had no way of knowing how she may have felt about the revelation. A slight curl of fear blossomed in her stomach; would this be disappointing to Razzle Dazzle? Gingerbread was a simple mare, who worked hard and lived comfortably, but she was nothing like the ponies Razzle Dazzle must have known there in Canterlot. “I am.” She confirmed, trying to stop her voice from quavering and keep it steady, though she was uncertain what turn things were about to take. “I met her not long after she first came to Ponyville. We’ve been seeing each other for almost four years and living together for three…”

Another pregnant pause followed, during which Cupcake returned, yammering about the unicorn she had been chatting with at the other table. She seemed oblivious to the awkwardness that had fallen over her companions as she settled heavily back into her seat, a bright smile played across her face.

Gingerbread frowned, looking away and at her teacup. She could feel Razzle Dazzle’s eyes still upon her, but now was certainly not the time to continue a discussion about Gusty, as desperately as she wanted to both gain the other mare’s support and let her know that Gusty was indeed cared for and –for the most part- happy.

As they parted ways a short time later, however, any fear she had of disapproval was assuaged when Razzle Dazzle offered her a hoof, eyes once again sparkling. “I’m very pleased to have met you, Gingerbread.” She said sincerely, a soft smile dancing across her face.

Gingerbread returned the smile, relief washing over her. Unless Razzle Dazzle was a very good actor, it seemed she genuinely meant what she said, which indicated that she accepted of her only child’s choice in partners. And with the way Gusty always spoke of her mother, Gingerbread had been worried; she certainly didn’t live up to any high society standards. “It was nice to meet you, too.”

As their hooves brushed together, Razzle Dazzle leaned in, lyrical voice soft and low near Gingerbread’s ear. “Give her a hug for me, please.” She whispered, the smile becoming slightly sad, tone wistful.

“I will.” Gingerbread nodded in acknowledgement, before trotting off after her sister.

Across town, Gusty was actually beginning to loosen up and relax a bit; Fizzy had always had that effect on her. She was so lively and upbeat that it was impossible even for Gusty to remain grumpy in her presence.

Fizzy was halfway through her demonstration of how she added the bubbles to her drinks. Lemon Meringue was utterly fascinated, and though it was Fizzy’s special talent and not many ponies had the ability to work their magic in the way she did, she had offered the filly a plastic tumbler full of ruby red cranberry brew, encouraging her to try making bubbles in the flat drink.

Lemon wrapped the pastel yellow glow of her magic around the cup, eyes squeezed shut as she concentrated, trying as hard as she could to succeed.

Gusty shot Fizzy a glance, silently asking her why she was encouraging the poor filly in a completely doomed endeavor. The other unicorn just shrugged, her slightly goofy smile crossing her face as she mouthed the words ‘it’s fun.’

“Fizzy!” Lofty’s voice suddenly drifted in from somewhere in the front, excited and bubbly, “I’m back!” And then the pegasus herself came bursting through the door, practically tripping over her gangly limbs, almost empty saddlebags bouncing against her flanks, the bits tucked securely inside jangling with her every movement.

She stopped short when she spotted Lemon Meringue propped on a stool, a chef’s hat perched on her head, eyes still screwed shut, little horn pointed at the tumbler. Fizzy, clad in her favorite polka dotted apron, stood on her hind legs beside the filly, forelegs resting on the counter as she instructed the filly in the proper way to carbonate a beverage. Gusty was loitering in a corner, keeping an eye on both her friend and her charge, but she spared Lofty a glance.

“…Hey.”

A huge grin split Lofty’s face and she pranced fully into the room, wings fluttering with delight. “You came! I didn’t think you would!” She squealed, skittering to a stop beside Gusty, “This. Is. AWESOME!”

Her voice pitched high with her excitement, startling Lemon, who jumped on her stool, her unpredictable youthful magic surging and sending the cup toppling off the table in a waterfall of sticky red.

Lemon squawked as she was hit with a splatter of the cranberry juice, turning a furious, childish glare in Lofty’s direction. “Excuse me!” She spluttered, flailing indignantly and nearly falling from the stool, “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something very important?”

Fizzy caught the filly before she could fall, trying not to laugh at her serious tone. Lemon was entirely too adorable, especially because she sounded so prissy and annoyed and Lofty was blinking big doe eyes at her, utterly confused. The teal unicorn steadied Lemon on her seat, making sure the pint-sized filly had regained her center of gravity before trotting off to fetch a dishrag from a drawer.

“I’m…sorry?” Lofty frowned, giving the little unicorn a funny look, brow creased, “I didn’t know I’d be interrupting anything.”

“Well you did.” Lemon turned up her nose, sulking at her magic lesson being disrupted.

“Lemon…” Gusty rolled her eyes, tone warning. It was one thing for the filly to be a brat around her mother; the older unicorn didn’t give a hay about that. It was another thing completely for her to treat her friend so rudely, especially considering they were guests in Lofty’s home.

Fizzy pranced back by Lofty, the dishrag and a bucket of warm, sudsy water wrapped in the pale pink glow of her magic as she carried them over to clean up the mess. She paused a second to give the pegasus pony a cheery smile and welcome home nuzzle, flicking her tail playfully under Lofty’s nose. Then she set the bucket down near the puddle on the floor, giving Lemon a magical jab. “Hey,” she chirped, “who wants to help clean up? ‘Cause I know tons of other ways to make bubbles!”

Lemon gave Lofty one last Look and the young mare stuck out her tongue in return, trotting over to the table to empty her saddlebags and tally up the bits she had collected running deliveries for Fizzy.

Gusty rolled her eyes again as Lemon hopped from the stool, snatching up the rag and swiping furiously at the puddle on the floor, all the while complaining about how Mother never made her clean up messes that weren’t her fault.

She had been feeling better, but as she watched the spoiled filly cleaning, Gusty was reminded yet again of just why she’d wanted to leave Canterlot in the first place.

Author's Note

I didn't really have the energy to edit this part thoroughly, so if you find any glaring errors, please let me know!

Triple Dog Dare

“Your mom seems really nice, Gusty.”

Gusty looked up from where she was curled on the couch, lazy under a fuzzy blanket. Once she’d passed Lemon Meringue off to her mother, the unicorn had retreated to the safety of the sitting room, using the blanket to shield herself from the world.

She was tired; socializing always wore her out. And having to keep up with Lemon was like running a marathon; the filly was all over the place. After leaving Fizzy and Lofty, Lemon had wanted to check out all the other shops in the neighborhood, which meant a lot of traipsing in and out of stores, the little unicorn touching everything, trying on hats, and making lists of things she wanted for Hearth’s Warming.

And she wanted more than any foal could ever need.

The entire morning –even the enjoyable parts with Fizzy and Lofty- had left Gusty exhausted and she was half-asleep when Gingerbread trotted into the room.

“My mom is nice.” She didn’t bother to sit up, even as the other mare settled near her on the couch, reaching over to play with her tail, twisting the ends together in a loose braid. Gusty just snuggled down further, pulling the blanket up over her head and letting Gingerbread do what she pleased with her tail. “We’re just…really different. I don’t think she understands me at all.”

Gingerbread was quiet for a moment, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “She…She loves you, though. I’m pretty sure of it, the way she talked about you.” She said quietly, releasing the other mare’s tail in favor of wedging herself between Gusty and the back of the couch. “And…please don’t be mad, but…She knows.”

“…She knows?” Gusty poked her head back out from under the fleecy fabric to twist around, looking over her shoulder at the other mare. “She knows what? I told her I was going to be in Canterlot.”

The earth pony buried her face in Gusty’s shoulder, effectively hiding herself in the blanket as well. She was worried she’d broken the unicorn’s trust in her; that Gusty would be pissed off. “No…She knows.” Her voice was a mere whisper, muffled by the blanket, “About us.”

Gusty didn’t say anything. She just rolled away, disappearing fully under the blanket again.

“I didn’t mean to!” Gingerbread could feel her throat tightening; it was almost as bad when Gusty didn’t yell as it was when she did. “I know you told us not to talk about you and I didn’t intend to; honest. But she asked me about Ponyville and mentioned you and she seemed so sad and upset that I just wanted her to know that you were okay and that somepony loved you…” Tears were welling in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any second. She hadn’t meant to break her promise; she always wanted to keep her word, especially when it came to Gusty.

The unicorn just listened to her, easily noticing the telltale waiver in Gingerbread’s voice that indicated she was on the verge of tears. The sensible earth pony didn’t cry often, but when she did, it was heartfelt and sorrowful, as if she wept for the entire world rather than just the thing that made her sad.

And Gusty hated to see her cry.

She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t wanted Gingerbread and Cupcake to mention anything about her to her mother, or even why she was reluctant to talk about the wonderful mare she loved with her family. There was absolutely no shame to be had in loving Gingerbread; she wasn’t the kind of mare to be kept like a dirty little secret. She was so kind and amazing that it was hard to imagine anypony disapproving of her, and yet…

It did cross her mind that maybe she just wanted to keep that part of her life separate from Canterlot; to keep Gingerbread from getting spoiled by the attitude of most Canterlot ponies. What she loved most about the earth pony was that she was so incredibly different from everypony there in the royal city. Gingerbread was hardworking, practical, and incredibly sweet, the exact opposite of the kinds of ponies she’d known growing up. In some way, she thought that maybe she was afraid Gingerbread would be ruined by being there with the less innocent, more worldly ponies, a thought which utterly terrified her.

“Gingerbread…” She rolled as best she could without falling off the couch, turning to face the other mare. The couch was wide enough for both of them to fit on it together, if they stayed close. There wasn’t much room to move and there certainly wasn’t enough room for any space to remain between their bodies.

Gingerbread peeped up at her over the edge of the blanket, pale blue eyes lit with uncertainty. Gusty’s voice was flat and even, not giving away a certain hint to her emotions. Gingerbread had learned over the years to read some of her facial cues, but the unicorn had an amazing poker face, which made doing so difficult at times.

The room was engulfed in silence as Gusty shuffled on the cushions, reaching to tug Gingerbread close against her. It was a tight squeeze, but they somehow managed, pressed belly to belly, muzzle to muzzle. “I’m not mad at you.”

“…You’re not?” One of her eyebrows arched and Gingerbread sounded genuinely confused at that. Gusty completely understood why; she was usually much more volatile, especially when it came to things she didn’t particularly want to talk about. Gingerbread was used to her sniping at everypony, especially when she was annoyed, and Gusty didn’t often hold back from snapping at anypony, no matter who they were.

“Do you remember how you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to love me, if I changed?” Gusty’s pale eyes met Gingerbread’s blue ones, catching and holding her gaze. Her voice remained just as solemn, even as she pressed a little closer, suddenly desperate for more contact with the soft, warm body already squashed against her.

Gingerbread nodded slightly, causing their noses to bump together. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s just that…” Gusty swallowed, fighting the lump forming in her throat. This kind of stuff was difficult for her to talk about, so she usually avoided it. But here, in Canterlot, with her mother practically a stone’s throw away, it didn’t seem as if she could elude the subject. “I don’t…I don’t want anything Canterlot to touch you. I don’t want you to ever be different. Look what being here did to your sister. She’s just like everypony else that lived in my parents’ neighborhood: materialistic, greedy, featherbrained. And my mother might be nice and kind and everything, but…I just don’t want to share you! The ponies here don’t deserve somepony like you. I’m scared they’ll ruin you…” She trailed off, looking away as her voice faded to nothing.

The other mare just looked at her for a moment, running all the words through her head and trying to decipher them. Gusty’s way of thinking was sometimes odd, sometimes misinformed, and almost always archaic. She had been raised, Gingerbread knew, by rather traditional unicorns who both came from old Canterlot bloodlines, which explained some of her curious thoughts, though she suspected others were just part of Gusty’s personality.

“Gusty,” There were, on occasion, moments were Gingerbread was able to easily discern just how vulnerable the unicorn really was underneath her brash personality. This was one of these times –the solid walls Gusty had built around herself seemed to be deteriorating, the longer she was in Canterlot- and seeing how insecure her partner was always made her heart feel heavy. “I like my life. I like everything about it. Nothing will change that. Even if we stayed here for a year, it would never be home, because my home is in Ponyville, with you.” She nestled close, pressing her muzzle into Gusty’s neck, “I wouldn’t want to live here…And I certainly wouldn’t want to ever become a snobby Canterlot pony.”

“I don’t wanna take any chances.” Gusty rolled them over so she was snuggled on top of Gingerbread, wrapping all four legs around the other mare as if to shield her from the world, and rested her head against the other mare’s chest, listening for the steady, reassuring beat of her heart. “Can’t I just hide you somewhere?”

Gingerbread giggled, reaching to nudge Gusty’s chin up so she could steal a kiss. “I don’t think you have to worry…I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Still,” the unicorn returned the affection eagerly, brushing Gingerbread’s bangs from her eyes with a gentle hoof, “better safe than sorry.” And she meant it, too. She’d rather keep her partner away from everypony than risk letting her become embroiled in the politics and social climbing of her mother’s world, though she knew the very idea of that was impossible. She’d already been exposed to the citizens of Canterlot and would continue to be so as long as they stayed at Cupcakes.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be changing her at all.

“Oh Gusty…” The earth pony’s expression softened, eyes glowing in the fading sunlight of the afternoon as it spilled through the window, and she kissed Gusty again, wrapping her front hooves around the other mare’s neck and pulling her close.

“Are you going to the Tree of Light Festival this year?”

Lemon Meringue glanced up from the pocket watch she was inspecting, turning to look at her friend. She and Silver Thread were back in the shopping district, perusing the stores for gifts for their parents and Lemon had decided on purchasing a new pocket watch for her father, though it was taking her an awful long time to choose the perfect one.

Silver Thread, a pale grey unicorn with an almost-white mane and tail, was leaning against the display counter, a bored expression painted across her face. She had been waiting for nearly half an hour for Lemon to make up her mind, and though she had nearly unlimited patience for her best friend and her pickiness, enough was enough. Seriously, Lemon just needed to pick a watch for her father already and get it over with!

“Of course I’m going!” Lemon Meringue tossed back her curly mane, turning back to the counter and pointing to another watch, which the salespony carefully removed from the case, dangling it over a hoof for her to see. “Mother is in charge of the refreshments for the festival and she and Auntie Gingerbread have been working their hooves off getting everything ready.”

“And Razzle Dazzle is planning it, so everypony who’s anypony will be there.” Silver Thread pointed out, stepping away from the counter and wandering over to a display of small crystal clocks meant to reside on a mantle or nightstand.

Lemon turned the watch in question over, inspecting the casing. Though her father predominantly sold jewelry and gemstones, he still knew a fair bit about watches and he was always attempting to impart his wisdom on his daughter. As such, she’d developed quite the discerning eye, even at such a young age. “I’ll take this one,” she said to the salespony, opening her change purse and carefully counting out the correct amount of bits. As he wrapped the purchase, she turned back to her friend. “My Auntie Gingerbread’s special somepony is Razzle Dazzle’s daughter.”

“Really?” Silver Thread squealed, pale green eyes lighting with excitement, “That’s so cool!”

“I know!” Lemon gushed, taking her package from the salespony and tucking it safely in her designer saddlebag as they stepped back out into the snow. “And she’s really neat…Not like anypony I ever met before. She even took me to meet some of her friends from when she lived here. They own a soda fountain!”

It was later that same afternoon, the very same time when Gusty and Gingerbread were canoodling on the couch. After returning home, Gusty had practically shoved Lemon at her mother, even though the filly had wanted to spend more time adventuring with her new favorite auntie. But Gusty had trotted off before she could say so for the umpteenth time, muttering something under her breath about needing some space.

And Mother had listened patiently as Lemon rambled about the morning’s fun, though the filly was observant enough to notice her mother’s eyelids drooping and the yawns that kept slipping out. The doctor had told Mother that she needed more rest than she was getting, especially if she wanted the foal to be born healthy, and though she wanted an audience to listen, Lemon had made the executive decision to shoo Cupcake off to bed for a nap.

But not, of course, before obtaining permission to go over to Silver Thread’s house. If all the adults were going to be too boring to spend time with, Lemon would have to make her own fun.

“Will you take me to meet Razzle Dazzle, then?” Silver Thread asked eagerly, a combination of excitement and the cold making her pale cheeks rosy, “My mom and dad have been to some of her parties, but only the fancy ones and they say I’m too young to go, so I always get stuck at home with a sitter.” She pouted, snorting a little at the implication that she wasn’t yet a big pony.

Lemon trotted importantly down the sidewalk, muzzle held high in the air. “I’ll see what I can do,” She said, “Razzle Dazzle, Mother and Auntie Gingerbread are very busy ponies, after all. Especially with the Tree Lighting in only a couple more days.” She really had no clue if Razzle Dazzle even had any idea she existed; her mother had only been meeting with the elegant unicorn since late in the summer as they worked together to create a perfect holiday celebration and Lemon herself had never met the party planner.

Silver Thread hurried along, trying to keep up with her much faster friend. The grey unicorn filly came from a well-off family, but she had several siblings and as the middle child, was often forgotten by her busy fashion designer mother and paparazzi father. Lemon’s parents doted on her and though they were the same age, the other filly often seemed much more mature and worldly to Silver. “This is going to be the best Hearth’s Warming ever!”

“Why?” A harsh voice suddenly demanded, a shadow looming over the two fillies, “Are you babies going to get lots of presents from Santa Hooves this year?”

Both little unicorns skidded to a stop, looking up at the sneering face of another foal. Mimic was a classmate from their magic school, and though she was a gifted filly with a wide arsenal of magical abilities at her hooves –the teachers called her a prodigy, though Lemon Meringue and Silver Thread had yet to decipher what that word meant- she was not very nice. A scholarship student from a lower class neighborhood, Mimic didn’t have much and she had to sometimes work odd jobs to help out her parents. She was jealous of her wealthier classmates, and she let her jealousy get the better of her quite often.

To put it plainly, she was a bully who preyed on the ignorant, silly foals who had it infinitely easier than her and the naïve Lemon Meringue was one of her favorite targets.

“We’re going to the Canterlot Tree of Light Festival.” Silver Thread turned up her nose, looking away from the frosty green gaze of Mimic in a bid at snubbing her – Something which rarely worked.

Snubbing Mimic just usually made her that much more unbearable.

“Puh-lease. Everypony is invited to that; the entire city is welcome to attend. There’s nothing special about going and it’s stupid anyway.” Mimic scoffed, giving her head an impatient shake and sending her multicolored mane flying about her face, “Besides, only little foals get excited about lame things like that.”

“It’s not lame!” Lemon snapped indignantly, taking a step forwards towards the larger filly, head still held high, “And my mother has worked really hard getting ready for the festival!”

“No, it’s lame.” The greenish-yellow unicorn put on a sad, solemn face, shaking her head dramatically, “All of this Hearth’s Warming stuff is a load of horseapples. And if you’re getting excited about standing out in the freezing cold and singing some namby-pamby song about love, you’re lame too.”

“You take that back!” The yellow filly shrieked, voice rising, splotches of red coloring her cheeks, “I am not lame and I’ll prove it!” How dare Mimic say she wasn’t cool? She was Lemon Meringue, for Celestia’s sake! She was stylish and friendly and everypony else at school loved her!

Mimic’s expression dropped for a moment, face going blank before a sinister grin slowly curled the corners of her mouth upwards. “Oh yeah?” She smirked, “You know what would really prove you were cool and didn’t care about foalish stuff?”

Lemon swallowed, attempting to rein in her anger. Father always said not to let ignorant ponies that were below her get to her; they were just jealous and didn’t know what they were talking about. And she really didn’t like the tone of Mimic’s voice, or the smile stretched across her face. “…What?”

“Stealing the star from the top of the Tree of Light.”

Lacking Judgment

“You’re not really going to take the star, are you, Lemon?” A worried Silver Thread asked as she and Lemon hurried through the bustling streets en route to her family’s house. “I mean…Mimic is full of it and you don’t have to prove anything to anypony.”

Lemon Meringue had fallen strangely quiet after Mimic issued the challenge. Before she could properly respond, however, a tired-sounding voice had called the trouble-making filly’s name and Mimic had galloped off, calling over her shoulder that she would be able to tell whether or not Lemon had proven how cool she was.

And as the two fillies cantered through the slushy streets, Lemon had remained silent, an odd look on her face.

“I don’t know…” She finally said, “I don’t really want Mimic to make fun of me, but…Mother and Razzle Dazzle and Galaxy have worked really hard to make sure everything is perfect. I don’t want to wreck it and that star is Galaxy’s. It would really be stealing if I took it!”

“Not if you just took it off and put it somewhere where Galaxy could find it again.” Silver Thread blurted the words out without really meaning to. This whole thing smacked of a bad idea, but Lemon was stubborn and getting her to listen was difficult, especially if she’d already made up her mind – Which she seemed to have done. “Mimic didn’t say you had to keep it…Just that you had to take it off. And it’s really big…She’ll be able to see if it’s gone or not.”

The yellow filly was unnaturally quiet again, brows knit as she pondered that idea.

“That…might work.” She said slowly, pausing a moment at a corner and waiting for the hooftraffic and cabs to slow so they could cross. “I mean…It wouldn’t really wreck the festival, would it?” She didn’t wait for a response -- She hadn’t really wanted one. Lemon sometimes talked to herself when she was working things out; Silver Thread had learned that early in their friendship. “Galaxy could just put the star back on top when she found it!”

“I guess so…” Silver Thread hurried after Lemon as she dashed across the street before traffic picked up again. To the grey filly, it sounded like the kind of stupid idea her older brother would have; the kind that would result in their parents getting a call from the Royal Guard and Snappy getting a stern talking to and grounding.

“I don’t think I can get outside the city walls before the Tree Lighting, though,” Lemon mused, talking more to herself than the other unicorn, “so it’ll have to wait until that night…But I bet I can get it down with my magic. I’ve been practicing and I’m getting better!”

It was a bad idea and deep down, Lemon Meringue knew it. But in that moment, she wasn’t thinking of right or wrong and she certainly didn’t consider the trouble she’d get in. A burning desire to show that windbag Mimic was clouding her already limited judgment.

Silver Thread could practically see the thought floating above her friend’s head; Lemon believed it was a fabulous idea and that nothing could possibly go wrong.

So of course something would.

“Where in Equestria is everypony?”

Gusty was sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich when Graham Cracker came trotting briskly in, tone annoyed.

Once Gusty had let her up from the couch, Gingerbread had set out for the market, claiming they needed more flour to complete the baking. The unicorn had seen a huge sack of flour in the pantry when looking for sandwich fixings and suspected the baker was really off doing a little holiday shopping, but she could and would play along. Cupcake was still sleeping; apparently she hadn’t been getting anywhere near enough rest over the past couple weeks. And Lemon Meringue hadn’t yet returned from her friend’s house, leaving Gusty to fend for herself.

And deal with Graham, a prospect that was not at all pleasant.

“Cupcake’s having a nap.” She took a bite of her sandwich, choosing to revel in the indescribable taste of the Apple Family Zap Apple Jam instead of looking up at the other unicorn, “Lemon’s at her friend’s.” She was talking with her mouth full, but didn’t really care. Graham had been rude to her over the few days she’d been at his house and she certainly was one to treat others like they treated her. “And Gingerbread’s gone shopping. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

Behind her, Graham rolled his eyes, scowling at her back. He found Gusty to be unbearably crass and her manners lacking. She seemed to say pretty much whatever came to mind and didn’t care a whit about proper grammar or the niceties of society. He was completely baffled as to how such an uncouth unicorn could have possibly come from a Neighbury Park family.

“And you do not cook.” He said flatly, causing her to glance up, an ‘are you kidding me?’ look plastered on her face.

She snorted, shaking her head, short mane falling into her eyes. “If I can manage to make a sandwich, I think you can too.” Giving an over-exaggerated roll of her own eyes, she turned back to the table, picking her sort of squashed sandwich up between her front hooves.

Graham trotted past the table, ignoring her and tugging the refrigerator open with a tendril of emerald magic. He stood before the icebox, green gaze flickering up and down as he perused the shelves for something suitable for dinner.

Locating a pot of soup Cupcake had made several days beforehand, he levitated it out and to the stove. He himself didn’t cook –that was part of why he’d married a pony with a cooking-related special talent- but he had learned over the years how to work the stove and prepare simple things or reheat Cupcake’s food. Every now and again, his wife catered an evening affair that left him responsible for dinner and he had found himself unwilling to let Lemon Meringue get spoiled by too much takeout.

The pot situated on the stove, Graham turned back to the table, glancing disdainfully at the unicorn mare still munching on her Zap Apple Jam sandwich. “Why,” he sniffed, “do you eat like that?”

Gusty froze mid-chew, letting the sandwich fall from her hooves and back onto the plate. She attempted to swallow, but the bite in her mouth stuck in her throat, which had suddenly gone incredibly dry. Grabbing her water glass, she took a long swig, forcing the mouthful down her throat.

“Why do you not eat in the proper manner?” The stallion pressed, one brow quirked upwards as he watched the mare struggle with her dinner. “I have never met an adult unicorn who doesn’t manipulate their food with magic before. It is the polite way to eat, after all.”

The white unicorn lifted her head, steely gaze meeting his emerald green eyes and holding them in a cold stare. “I don’t suppose,” she began quietly, “a pampered stallion like you would know anything about life with limited magical ability.” Though her tone was low and even, her words were full of resentment and ice, intense enough to keep Graham quiet. “Ponies like me are usually kept away from classy, talented ponies like you, because a lot of unicorns seem to think magic block is catching.”

Graham was silent for a moment, just studying her, emerald gaze never straying from her face. He knew, of course, of such a thing as a unicorn with limited magic; it was something every unicorn worried about when they had a foal. Very few unicorns failed to develop the basics of their magic by the time they were of school age, however; it was a rare phenomenon that nopony could explain, though doctors and scientists alike had tried. There was no particular unicorn demographic it occurred in more often and many believed it to be a psychological disability, rather than a physical one.

And, as Gusty assumed, Graham had never met anypony afflicted with magic delay.

“That’s why you perform such menial work in Ponyville.”

It was the obvious conclusion, in Graham’s eyes. Why else would a Canterlot unicorn from an upper-class family want to live in a little country town like Ponyville without seizing a powerful position within the town’s government?

“That’s why I moved to Ponyville.” Gusty pushed back her chair, suddenly not the least bit hungry anymore, “To get away from ponies like you, who assume those kinds of things.”

Graham cocked his head, brows knit. “Whatever do you mean?” He queried, blinking. He was assuming nothing, as far as he was concerned. Clearly, Gusty wouldn’t have been able to find better work if her magic didn’t work in the proper way.

“I mean that it’s bucking disgusting the way you’re thinking I couldn’t do anything better with my life, just because you know I can’t use magic like everypony else.” She snapped, eyes flashing dangerously, “It makes me sick, the way all of you snooty unicorns think your way of life is the only way. So I can’t use magic to brush my teeth and shut the door and carry things. Earth ponies and pegasi have been managing just fine without using magic for every little thing for centuries and so can I.”

“But you’re a unicorn! You shouldn’t have to ‘manage.’ Your life should be so easy!” Graham sounded absolutely appalled that she would speak so casually of her limitations; that she accepted her disability as if It were nothing. “You are better than that, simply because you were born into the world of magic.”

Gusty glared at that, every muscle in her lithe body tensing, horn sparking dangerously. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself and stifle her anger; if she let her feelings towards Graham get the best of her, the kitchen and all Gingerbread and Cupcake’s hard work would be destroyed. “Do you think,” her voice was a harsh whisper, born of her anger, “that you’re better than your wife? She’s just a lowly earth pony, after all.”

Graham’s pupils constricted, mouth falling open, ears pinning back against his head. “How dare you even think such a thing?” He growled, eyes narrowing to slits, “I love my wife! She and my daughter are my world.”

“And yet…You still can’t help it, can you? You’re just like that. Unicorns are the best and I bet you thank Celestia every day that Lemon was born a unicorn.” Gusty sneered, not at all caring about the other pony’s feelings. Graham hadn’t given much regard to her feelings over the past few days, ignoring her and dismissing her whenever he was given the chance. He’d been passively rude to Gingerbread as well, which was inexcusable; it was one thing if he belittled Gusty herself for her lackluster and unambitious life, but to insult Gingerbread…Gusty wouldn’t stand for it. “I thank Celestia every day that Ponyville doesn’t have as many ignorant unicorns as Canterlot, because very few ponies in Ponyville think they’re better than anypony.”

The stallion’s face had gone from its usually warm brown to an angry shade of red as Gusty spoke. Steam practically billowed from his ears and his mouth was drawn in a thin line. He stared at the mare, eyes hard, horn lighting. “You think you’re so smart.” He whispered through clenched teeth, lowering his head to point his primed horn at the other unicorn. “I could show you just how ‘ignorant’ I am…”

Gusty’s eyes widened. She’d faced worse than a pompous jeweler in her time in Canterlot; the bullies at magic school were much more threatening. But they had never gone after her in a private setting; always in places where somepony else could intervene. They were cowards and Gusty had refused to let herself be intimidated, but Graham…He didn’t seem to care at all about propriety and manners; civility had long since flown from the room.

Then, as abruptly as if somepony had flipped a switch, Graham visibly calmed, the magical aura threatening to engulf him dissipating into nothing more than a few green sparkles. “Instead,” he sniffed, “I’ll act the gentlecolt and ask you to leave my kitchen. I’d rather not see you again for the rest of the night.”

Gusty didn’t need to be told twice.

Think Twice

When Cupcake stumbled down the stairs a short time later, she was still bleary-eyed and yawning, the pull of sleep threatening to lull her back to bed.

She must have looked frightful and she knew it. Her usually sleek mane was sleep-rumpled and disheveled; she hadn’t bothered to fuss with it for her family like she would have if she were going out. And the sweater she was wearing was wrinkled, clearly indicating that she’d slept in it. But instead of taking time to groom after waking up, she had just rolled out of bed, stomach rumbling hungrily.

Usually, the mare didn’t take naps during the day. She always had too much going on to even think about sleeping, and beyond that, napping had always messed with her body, leaving her logy rather than rested. Even as a young filly, she had argued with her mother at naptime, claiming she functioned much better without a nap than with.

It took her a moment to realize that the house was quiet – Too quiet. Usually at this time of day, Graham was arriving home and Lemon was making her presence known. The sounds of father and daughter interacting were usually fairly merry; Lemon loved her daddy so and Graham doted on the filly. Accompanying that was the sounds of dinner, a piece of the evening symphony that was missing due to Cupcake’s impromptu nap.

But it was still too quiet, even if one took the sound of pots, pans, and simmering out of the equation.

Cupcake trotted heavily into the livingroom, where there was no telltale sign of where Lemon Meringue might be. There was no Gingerbread or Gusty, either, which just added to the peculiarity of the evening. Over the past three nights, their guests had been found curled up together on the couch in their quiet time, usually nestled under a blanket as they played cards or did a puzzle or something equally homey.

Cupcake frowned to herself, yawning again, and continued on into the kitchen, where she found her husband sitting at the empty table, staring off into space with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Even to Cupcake’s ears, her own voice sounded too loud in the heavy silence of the usually warm, bustling kitchen, “I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I’ll get dinner started right away.” And without waiting for any kind of answer, she headed towards the refrigerator.

“…Cupcake.”

Graham’s cultured voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

He sounded excessively serious, using a tone she’d never heard before. He was a fairly no-nonsense stallion, but he had always been warm and loving with her, even if a little formal from time to time. She’d never heard him so solemn, not when he was addressing her, and it unnerved her quite a bit.

“Come sit down for a minute…Dinner can wait.”

She turned, giving him an uncertain, curious look. Graham was not usually like this. He was lord of the manor and liked things done a certain way – Her not having dinner ready when he returned home was unheard of, unless she had something scheduled well in advance that coincided with dinnertime.

Why was he not annoyed?

“Please?” He pressed, voice unusually soft.

She sat.

Graham looked at her for a long moment, emerald gaze sweeping over her face. Cupcake was always beautiful, with her silk-soft hair and sooty lashes, a generous mouth that was quick to smile, and sparkling eyes the pale blue of the fine topaz he sold in his shop. She had taken well to the life of a socialite in Canterlot, easily mingling with the wealthy ponies and nobility he had introduced her to. She was stylish, sophisticated and witty, and yet, looking at her with her long mane sleep-rumpled and tumbling about her shoulders and her gaze still heavy-lidded, she looked young and innocent, the way she had when she first came to Canterlot.

It had not been love it first sight, but it had been intrigue at first site.

Graham had met Cupcake at a party thrown by the family of a mutual acquaintance, some friend of Cupcake’s who had moved with her parents to Canterlot at a young age. The white mare had been staying with Truly until she established herself as a reputable baker and the party had been to present the country mare to society.

Cupcake had looked out of place among the more refined, sophisticated mares chatting amongst themselves in Truly’s sitting room, as well as awkward in her party dress. Somepony had attempted to clean her up and make her look the part of a high society pony, though the loose, simple curls and frilly attire did little to hide her naiveté and awe over the finery that surrounded her.

The spoiled stallion had never really encountered a pony below his station before and upon being introduced to Cupcake, Graham had found himself enchanted by both her simple views on the world and her ambitious dreams – She had come to Canterlot, after all, to gain fame for her beautiful and elegant cakes; to make herself a household name when it came to extravagant desserts.

And though she had learned over the years how to talk and act and carry herself, and though he had opened doors for her to worlds she could never have even imagined, she had still retained some of the country mare that had made her so charming to begin with, and seeing her interact with her sister over the past few days had made Graham well aware of that.

“Graham, what’s going on?” She cocked her head, blinking her luminous eyes. A lock of her hair slid over her shoulder, falling gently across her pale cheek.

He reached across the table, pushing back the silky blue strands and cradling her cheek in his hoof. She smiled softly in return, her eyes once again sliding to half-mast, and he felt something stir in his heart, something he hadn’t felt since the early days of their courtship. “Cupcake,” his voice was still unusually quiet, “I love you.” He had spoken those words many times over the course of their relationship, of course. But sometimes, they came so automatically that all meaning was lost and the words themselves were hollow and dull.

“I know…” She frowned, something clenching in the pit of her stomach. It was rare that her husband allowed any vulnerability to show and given the strange circumstances and the odd silence she had woken to, Cupcake suddenly feared something was dreadfully wrong. “Graham, please. What’s wrong? And where are Lemon, Gingerbread, and Gusty?”

“Everypony is fine.” He shook his head softly, tossing his perfectly groomed mane askew, “At least, I think everypony is fine. I had words with Gusty earlier, and I’m afraid neither of us were very nice to each other, but she made me think…” He let his hoof fall away from her, looking back down at the table, “I may not have done it intentionally, but I haven’t always treated you fairly, simply because you are not a unicorn. Instead of realizing just how amazing it is, that you are capable of doing the beautiful things you do with just the use of your hooves, I’ve always thought it was unfair that you lacked magic to aid you in your craft. How much easier your life would be, if you only had magic to aid you, I always believed. ”

“Graham…” Cupcake shifted in her seat, leaning in to take both his front hooves in hers, “I do have magic.” Her own voice was remarkably soft as well, though tender, and when he looked up, the stallion found her eyes to be sparkling with their usual warmth. “It’s just different than your magic.”

“And I should recognize and appreciate that, instead of thinking you could be better, were you a unicorn.” Graham looked away again; he couldn’t bear to look at her for the shame coursing through him. He truly did love Cupcake and it mortified him to realize that he had always subconsciously wished she were a unicorn. She didn’t deserve that; she deserved to be lauded for her remarkable talents; to be praised for the things she did without the aid of magic. “And I’m sorry…I’m truly, deeply sorry for any time I may have treated you poorly, even without realizing I was doing so.”

Cupcake was quiet for a moment, just watching her husband. She had known him for nearly ten years and in all that time, she had never once seen him so humble. He was usually a very take charge stallion, confident and sure of himself in all that he did, and spoke with the certainty of somepony who knew his place in the world.

His attitude had, of course, sometimes bothered her, but she had known what he was like from the beginning. Truly had warned her that there were stallions out there looking for a traditional wife, one who would cook and clean and stay at home to mind the foals. Many of the citizens of Canterlot, the other mare had told her, had very outdated views on family dynamics.

But Cupcake had never minded Graham’s antiquated notions about life. He had helped her meet the right ponies to launch her business and he had never stifled her creativity. She was more than happy to fix his meals, mind Lemon, and keep an orderly household, so long as she got to keep creating beautiful cakes and cookies.

Truly had thought she was crazy, when she told her friend she planned on marrying the uptight, snooty Graham Cracker, but Cupcake was not to be deterred. And there was no romantic pretense behind her actions; she loved him, but she knew life with Graham was not to be a fairytale. He was finicky, but kind, and there had never been a single moment of regret for Cupcake since she had pledged to love him forever.

But though there was still love and affection flowing between them, the mare hadn’t felt as if she was in love with her husband for a very long time.

Not until he looked up at her, brilliant green eyes shimmering with tears, ears flattened against his skull, vulnerability and fear written across his face.

Cupcake opened her mouth to speak, but the perfect stillness of the moment was ruined when the doorbell chimed, ringing out through the room and calling the mare away from the table.

Simple Geology

When Cupcake opened the door, it revealed an older, unfamiliar unicorn stallion, hoof raised as if he was about the ring the bell again.

He blinked owlishly in the sudden cast of light coming from the entryway, letting his hoof fall back to the stoop and offering the mare a kind of watery smile. “Hello.” His voice was quiet and a bit unsteady, ringing with uncertainty, “Would you happen to be Cupcake, by any chance?”

The earth pony blinked, looking the stallion up and down again. He was pale green, with a greying mane and slightly familiar silvery-blue eyes partially hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. Nothing but his tentative gaze struck a chord with her, however, and Cupcake was fairly certain she’d never encountered this particular unicorn before. “Yes…” She answered slowly, taking a step back and away, “I’m Cupcake. And who might you be?”

“My name is Limestone.” His tone remained low, leaving the mare to believe he was just a soft-spoken pony and that his volume had nothing to do with the subtle nervousness he was displaying. “I understand my daughter, Gusty, is staying with you?”

“Oh!” A smile crossed the mare’s face and she stepped back fully from the door, allowing the unicorn in. “Yes, of course. Please come in out of the cold.”

Limestone trotted in, pausing to wipe slush from his hooves on the doormat, still blinking against the brightness of the hall light. Outside, the world had become dark and cold; the sky a blackish-blue, illuminated only by the pale orange glow of the streetlamps and a sprinkling of stars. “Thank you…” He smiled faintly, looking to the side rather than at Cupcake, “Is Gusty here? I’d like to see her, if I may.”

“I…” Cupcake frowned a little, both at his unwillingness to look at her and her own uncertainty as to whether or not the unicorn in question was indeed home. “I’m not sure. I only recently woke from a nap and don’t know if she is in or not. If you’d wait here, I’ll go check.”

“Please do.” He nodded a little, polite and awkward, his tail swishing nervously. Cupcake had no way of knowing it, of course, but he hadn’t seen Gusty in over a year and he wasn’t sure if she would want to see him. She’d been distant towards both her parents the last few times they’d visited her, despite the fact that she’d always gotten along better with him than her mother. ”I don’t mind waiting.”

The earth pony offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile, turning towards the staircase leading to the upper floor. “It’ll only be a moment.”

After her encounter with Graham Cracker, Gusty had fled to the relative safety of the guest room, where she barricaded herself under a mountain of pillows and blankets on the bed.

She had screwed up big time and she knew it. No matter what she thought about Graham and his ignorant view of the world, it wasn’t her place to criticize him in his own home, especially not with words so harsh as those she had spoken. Her parents had raised her better and there was no excuse for her horrible rudeness. She wouldn’t be surprised if the stallion asked her to leave his house; what she’d said was unbearably offensive, no matter how true.

What would that do to Gingerbread, and her relationship with Cupcake and her family? It was bound to make things strained, if Gusty and Graham didn’t get along. It would be even worse if they outright hated one another.

But…Gusty didn’t particularly hate Graham himself, though. It was his ideas she hated; his ideas and their damaging implications.

And though she had been the one to start the argument, she had no desire to apologize to the stallion. He was just as wrong as she was and she wasn’t about to budge on the subject.

“Gusty?” There was a knock on the door, interrupting her from her thoughts, and Cupcake’s voice filtered through the fine wood of the door, “Are you in there?”

The white unicorn groaned, burying her face in a pillow. Of course Cupcake had come; Graham had probably already told her what Gusty had said and now the other mare was probably going to kick her out herself.

“Gusty?” The other mare’s voice came again, persistent and a little louder.

Gusty rolled over, crawling out of the tangle of blankets and stumbling over to the door, which she yanked open. It was always better to face things head on than to hide, right? “…Yeah?”

Cupcake frowned at the disheveled sight of the other mare. Gusty’s short mane was a wild tangle about her face, some strands lifting on the static charge created by being buried under a fleece blanket, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked miserable.

“Gusty…” Cupcake bit her lip, not entirely certain how the news she bore would be received, “Will you come downstairs? Your father is here.”

The unicorn’s eyes shot wide open and she stumbled back, tripping over her own hooves and landing on her rump on the floor. “My…my dad is here?” She squeaked out, pushing a hoof through her hair in an ineffective attempt at tidying it. Then she rose, hurrying over to the mirror and fumbling for a brush to run through her mane. That taken care of, she started in on her tail, cursing under her breath when the bristles of the brush caught in a particularly nasty tangle. “I can’t believe this…It’s really my dad?”

“He said he was your dad…” The other mare cocked her head, peering curiously at the anxious unicorn in front of the vanity. Cupcake was incredibly confused; what was Gusty panicking over? Limestone seemed incredibly mild compared to the lively perfectionist Razzle Dazzle and, from what Cupcake knew, Gusty didn’t care overmuch about her appearance. “Green unicorn, glasses, greyish mane and tail?”

“Aw hay…It really is my dad.” Gusty gave herself one last cursory look in the mirror, deemed her appearance acceptable, and started for the door, “Did he say what he wanted?”

Cupcake stepped back, letting the other mare pass her, bewildered gaze still following the suddenly jittery unicorn’s every movement. “Just that he wanted to see you…”

Gusty nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I can handle this.” She said, more to herself than to Cupcake.

Then she began her descent down the steps.

Limestone was waiting anxiously, still in the entryway where Cupcake had left him.

There were a couple pieces of fine art decorating the hall, and though Limestone had great appreciation for such things, he couldn’t even keep up a pretense of studying them. His mind was racing; if Gusty was home, would she see him? Over the past few years, she had been discouraging them from visiting more and more. This was the first time she’d come to Canterlot since she’d left, and -according to Razzle Dazzle- she hadn’t even been planning on visiting them while she was in town.

The stallion wasn’t sure why; they had given Gusty the best life possible. She’d been encouraged, supported, and cherished, and still, something had apparently been lacking. And their daughter had run away, chased off by forces known only to Gusty herself.

They had done their best, Limestone thought, but it hadn’t been enough.

And it hurt, never really knowing what was going on in Gusty’s life. Though their niece sent long, gossipy letters from Ponyville on a somewhat regular basis –and Rarity was prone to drop in on them, when she was in town- her idea of important news was quite different from the things Limestone and Razzle Dazzle actually wanted to know about Gusty’s life.

Sometimes, Razzle Dazzle was able to read between the lines of Rarity’s letters and decipher the true meaning of the words. It was clear that the fashionista disapproved of her cousin’s more rough and tumble pursuits, including impromptu games of hoofball with Magnum, Sweetie Belle, and Sweetie Belle’s friends, her penchant for getting sweaty and filthy at work, and her occasional tromping through the Whitetail Woods. Rarity never came out and said things like that, though, and over the years, Razzle Dazzle had attempted to crack the Rarity code. Things like “Gusty looks dreadful” could have translated to something akin to “Gusty just left the park after work and is in desperate need of a shower, followed by a grooming to get the burrs and leaves out of her coat and mane, respectively.” Or it could mean that Gusty wasn’t eating properly and was nothing but skin and bones. Or it could simply mean exactly what it said: Their daughter looked dreadful.

There was never any way to be sure.

Rarity rarely said anything outright –just used her polite, sometimes catty euphemisms for the truth- and it drove Limestone crazy. His scientific mind was very cut and dry and he had an incredibly difficult time understanding his frivolous, wordy niece.

The older unicorn worried about his daughter –his brusque, self-depreciating, sad-eyed daughter- and just wanted to know she was all right.

Hence his spur-of –the-moment appearance at Cupcake and Graham Cracker’s house.

Limestone had had some vague idea of who Graham Cracker was prior to his wife’s business with Cupcake. The elder stallion was a geology professor at the Canterlot University of Magic and he was fairly certain the jeweler had been a student in one of his classes on gemology. That had been some time ago, of course, but he had a knack for names and faces, and a dusty memory of Graham had been filed away somewhere in the recesses of his mind.

If the jeweler was anything like Limestone remembered –‘opinionated’, ‘pompous’, and ‘self-assured’ were three words that came to mind- Gusty was probably in agony staying at the stallion’s house.

“…Dad?”

At the sound of his daughter’s unusually soft, uncertain voice behind him, Limestone turned, laying eyes on Gusty for the first time in one year, twenty-seven days, thirteen hours, forty-nine minutes, and fifteen seconds, since the last time he’d been in Ponyville.

They stared at one another, matched pairs of pale blue eyes meeting, neither of them speaking. Gusty seemed thinner than last time he’d seen her, and her coat looked a little dull, almost greyish. She was still chopping her hair fairly short and her mane hung limply around her face. She looked tired, with bags under her eyes, and her overall appearance suggested that she hadn’t been taking proper care of herself; that she was in danger of wasting away and vanishing right before his eyes.

“Gusty…” Limestone took a step forwards, never breaking gaze with the young mare that stood before him. He was a left-brained individual, scholarly and logical, and didn’t often wear his heart on his sleeve. But there, in the soft glow of the hallway lamplight, with Gusty standing, waiflike and worrying her lower lip between her teeth, he felt as if his heart wound rend in two; as if letting all of the thoughts and feelings he kept mostly to himself come tumbling out would help bring his daughter back to the land of the living.

He chose to close the distance between them instead, pulling her close in one fluid motion and holding her against him as he had done when she was small. “Oh Gusty…”

She tensed, her entire body going stiff at his touch, and turned her head away to stare at some imagined speck of dust on the hallway carpet.

It had been a very long time since her father had held her like that; probably since sometime back in her foalhood, when scraped knees and cruel words could simply be hugged away. In the years since she had grown up, she’d not let anypony but Gingerbread touch her in such a way; it was impossible to maintain protective walls when somepony hugged you so tenderly.

“Come into the sitting room.” She finally said, her voice sounding distant to her own ears, “And we can…talk. If you want.” She was assuming that was why he’d come; what else would her father be doing there?

Limestone released her, nodding quietly. “Yes,” he agreed, “I would like a chance to speak with you without interruption.”

Gusty eyed him for another moment, easily catching the silent ‘without your mother’ that lingered at the end of her father’s words. Though she didn’t pretend to understand her parents’ attraction to one another, she knew they were still as much in love as they’d always been. She also knew that they were very different types of ponies and her father’s quiet nature often left him overshadowed by his much more outspoken, gregarious wife. He would never say as much, but the implication was there all the same.

Her father followed her into the sitting room, watching the way she moved, so like her mother. Gusty had always been sturdier in her build than Razzle Dazzle, heavy-hoofed and rigid, but her movements were much like her mother’s; the swing of her hips and roll of her shoulders were an unconscious imitation of the older unicorn’s.

Gusty sank down onto the plush velour sofa, tucking her hind legs neatly up under herself and sitting Sphinx-like, forelegs crossed before her.

Limestone waited until she settled herself, choosing a seat a respectable distance away. He knew she wouldn’t want him to be too close; would have known it even without her reaction to his hug. From the time she was a young mare, Gusty had held herself apart from other ponies, withdrawing more and more as her magic failed to develop at a normal rate. It had been hard, watching her slowly shut down, going from the hopeful, loving filly she had been once upon a time to the hard, aloof mare she had become.

Silence stretched between them for a moment; Limestone had never been a big talker and Gusty had grown to be like him, filling the spaces between her mother’s chatter with her own silence.

“You look good, Dad.” Gusty finally spoke, shattering the stillness that had fallen over them, her words seeming simultaneously too loud and too quiet. And she found herself wondering in that moment how it had wound up this way, with her father feeling like a complete stranger rather than the pony who had cared for and taught her when she was small.

“You don’t.” Her father’s response was bluntly honest, as was almost everything he said. He was studying her again, gaze shrewd behind his glasses, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth downwards. Gusty had hit many low points throughout her adolescence, but this was the most fragile he had ever seen her look.

“I…” Her mouth opened and closed again; she turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze once more, words getting stuck in her throat. “It’s being here,” she finally managed, “It’s…Ponyville is different. Nopony cares what I can and can’t do there, even the other unicorns. But here…Here, Dad, I feel like…I feel…” Her voice cracked, eyes welling with tears that she tried to force back, and she trailed off, letting unspoken words hang heavy between them.

“It’s okay.” Limestone didn’t dare move closer, not yet. No matter how much he wanted to take his daughter in his forelegs again, no matter how much he wanted to take her and protect her from the world as he had done when she was small, he was determined to do things on her terms. She looked breakable, as if any sudden movement would send her fleeing, and he wanted her to stay and open up, so he could understand what happened in her life to leave her so damaged. “It’s okay to feel things, Gusty.”

No. She couldn’t get the word out, but it was there, in the sudden flash of her eyes, the downturn of her mouth. She lifted a hoof to scrub furiously at the unwanted tears pooling in her eyes, shaking her head all the while, and turned away, folding further in on herself.

This time, Limestone did edge closer, reaching to put a tentative hoof on her shoulder, offering the barest hint of comfort he would allow himself. When she didn’t flinch away, he reached up, stroking her hair gently.

What kind of examples had they been for her, when it came to emotions? Razzle Dazzle was an open book, her every feeling over the top and on display for the world. Yes, she could rein it in and hold herself professionally, but didn’t often chose to do so. She felt entirely too much and Limestone himself…Well, he had always been reserved with his sentiments, keeping them to himself and the privacy of his home, as if he felt barely anything at all.

And Gusty, with such poor examples of healthy emotional expression, had never learned.

The mare felt her father’s touch, gentle against her mane, and that was all it took for her to crumble, turning and burying herself against the older unicorn. She clung to him, face pressed into his chest as she sobbed, letting out all the pent up frustration and grief she had never before been able to share with either of her parents, for fear of disappointing them.

Her father enfolded her in the warm embrace of her childhood, stroking her back and letting Gusty cry until she was spent. And then she curled close, keeping her head tucked under his chin, eyes shut tight. “I’m not special.” Her voice was hoarse and she sounded tired, lost, “I’m not ever going to be special. So why…why do I feel like I should be special?”

For a moment, Limestone said nothing, simply because he wasn’t sure what to say. Gusty was not one to listen to hollow reassurances and besides that, he was not prone to offering them.

“Gusty,” he finally said, leaning in to push her hair from her face so he could look at her, “Do you remember the time I brought you that geode when I returned from the gem and mineral symposium in Neighagra Falls?”

“Yes?” She sniffled, wiping at her nose and lifting her head to look at the wise, solemn face of her father, “What about it?”

“You were so disappointed, because all I brought you was a ‘boring, ugly rock.’ Your mother told you that it was rude to reject a gift, even if it wasn’t what you were expecting, and you got angry and threw the geode at a wall.” A faint smile crossed Limestone’s face at the memory; even as a filly, Gusty had been impatient and short-tempered and not very willing to listen to things she didn’t want to hear.

Gusty too remembered that day; her father had gone away for work, and when he traveled, lecturing, researching, and teaching in other towns, he almost always brought her back a special present. The geode had failed to impress her; to a young filly with limited knowledge of geology, it simply looked like any old rock. “And it broke,” She said softly, “I remember that.”

“You cried until you realized breaking it made it better; that it was full of crystals.” Limestone nodded, smiling softly, “You were delighted that I brought you something so special. And you asked me how I knew that there would be something pretty inside, when the outside was so ugly.”

“You told me it was magic.”

“No, first I told you it was simple geology; that a slow feed of mineral constituents from groundwater or hydrothermal solutions allowed crystals to form inside the hollow chamber within the rock, but you didn’t understand that,” A small, amused smile played about the geologist’s lips, “so then I told you it was magic that made the geode sparkle, when really it was the hidden sparkle that made the geode seem magic.”

Limestone loosened his grip on Gusty, settling back a little on the couch to look her fully in the eye. “Over the years I’ve learned something that’s helped me understand why the world is the way it is. Ponies are much like rocks. Some ponies sparkle, while others are dull. Some are simple and some are multifaceted. Some enter the world already smooth; some need a lot of polish. All of us are a result of pressure and time, which shapes us into who we are, no matter what we’re made of.”

“You,” he paused, lifting a hoof to gently caress his daughter’s cheek, “are a geode, rough on the outside, sparkling on the inside. It takes a pony who knows what to look for to recognize a geode and, well, if there are those who don’t know how wonderful you are, it simply means they haven’t figured out that they need to look beyond your exterior to see the beauty within. The ponies who don’t understand what makes you special are the ones waiting to see the magic…The ones who don’t know about your hidden sparkle.”

Gusty leaned into the touch, letting her eyes fall shut again. Her muzzle was damp with tears and she didn’t have the energy to do much beyond lean against her father, but she felt infinitely better.

For a moment, she was quiet, letting herself just experience the warm solidity of her father’s presence. Then she looked up, meeting his gaze once more, some of the old light shining in her eyes once again.

And she smiled.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Author's Note

Long chapter is long :derpyderp1:

I hope it makes sense; I only have the barest knowledge of geology.

Teas and Trees

“Hey.”

When Gingerbread returned from her not-so-secret present shopping trip, she found Gusty sitting at the foot of the stairs just beyond the main hallway, waiting for her.

The other mare’s voice startled her; Gingerbread had come fumbling through the door, attempting not to drop any of the packages and bags she was carrying. She was so distracted with her packages that she hadn’t noticed Gusty sitting on the bottom step, leaned casually against the railing, until the other pony spoke.

She blinked in surprise; there was no way the unicorn could have possibly known when she would return, which meant that she had likely been sitting there for a long time, and Gusty was not known for her forbearance. Sitting in one place for no reason would have been maddening for the impatient unicorn.

And yet, there she was.

More surprising than simply finding Gusty there, however, was the glow in her eyes. When she lifted her head to meet Gingerbread’s gaze, tossing her mane out of her eyes, something about her seemed different; something Gingerbread couldn’t quite put her hoof on.

She seemed…lighter somehow, as if something heavy had been lifted from her shoulders. The earth pony didn’t often see the light in her partner’s eyes that was visible at that moment; Gusty was usually much more reserved, as if she held something of herself back at all times. But there, sitting lazily on the carpeted stairs, with nothing remarkable happening, she looked…peaceful.

“Were you waiting for me?” Gingerbread set down her shopping bags, smiling as she unwound her scarf from around her neck, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know…” Gusty rose from her seat, trotting over to give the other mare a quick nuzzle before retrieving some of the bags with the intention of carrying them upstairs, “I just…It’s been an interesting night and I wanted to see you the second you got back.”

Gingerbread checked her hooves to make sure they were clean and dry, then gathered the rest of her packages. “Let’s take everything upstairs,” she suggested, glancing it the unicorn and wondering at the solemn expression on her face, “and then I’ll make us some tea and we can talk.”

Gusty nodded, “Okay.”

“It does sound like you had quite the evening.” Gingerbread said later as she stirred a spoonful of honey into her second cup of tea, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you during all of that.”

Gusty said nothing for a moment, just lifted her own cup and took a sip, savoring the bitter taste of herbs on her tongue. It was a pungent flavor, one that took her back to mornings of her childhood. After Daddy had left for the university, she and Mother had often remained in the dining room, lingering over breakfast. Young Gusty had often enjoyed her tea quietly, while Mother fussed about her daughter’s mane and offered her guidance on how to get through the school day. Usually, the advice involved reminders about smiling and putting her best hoof forward so she would make a good impression and make more friends beyond just the eccentric Fizzy, which Gusty ignored in favor of savoring the tea.

She took her tea unsweetened; her mother had always said that was the only way to drink it and it was one of the few things they agreed on.

“I think,” she finally responded as she placed the teacup carefully back on the table, “it was better the way things happened.” She canted her head to the side, stroking her chin thoughtfully, gaze never leaving the beautiful face of the mare she loved. It would have been nice, having Gingerbread there to help her struggle through the trials of the evening, of course, and at the time, she would have gratefully accepted any aid her partner could have offered.

But in retrospect…Things seemed to have worked out for the best and Gusty felt stronger for it.

“What do you mean?” Gingerbread queried softly, peering at the other mare through the dim light of the candle placed between them on the table, her brows knit, a small frown playing across her face.

It was late at that point, the house still and silent, dark save for the light of the flame flickering between them. Lemon Meringue was long since tucked into bed and Graham and Cupcake had retired to their room some time ago, all of them situated for the night well before Gingerbread had even returned home.

It had taken Gusty some time to tell Gingerbread the entire story of the night; she’d not left out a single detail, sharing word-for-word her exchange with Graham, explaining her father’s strange wisdom, all of the feelings running through both her mind and her heart over the course of the evening spilling forth. Usually, she neither talked so much nor shared so much of her heart with anypony, even Gingerbread, a fact which the sensible earth pony had accepted long ago.

Gusty looked up from her tea, meeting Gingerbread’s gaze. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she sat back in her chair. “It wouldn’t have happened the same way, if you were here,” and she meant that, but wasn’t sure if she could explain it in a way that made sense, “and it needed to, you know, happen like that. But if you were here…I wouldn’t have said such horrible things to Graham and if I didn’t, then I probably wouldn’t have talked to my dad the way I did and…I dunno.”

As they looked into each other’s eyes, Gingerbread’s expression softened, her kind blue eyes dancing in the candlelight. “I understand.” Gusty didn’t have an incredible way with words and was often awkward in her explanations, but the earth pony had known her long enough to easily figure out what she was trying to say: Gusty needed to banish her demons on her own. “And I told you,” she reached across the table to push a stray lock of hair from the unicorn’s eyes, “things would get better.”

“You did.” Gusty smiled, leaning into the other mare’s touch, “And you were right.”

Gingerbread giggled, tickling at Gusty’s cheek playfully. “Sometimes, I’m right.”

“Usually, you’re right.” The unicorn replied with mock solemnity, scooting her chair closer to lean against her partner. Her quirky smile returned when Gingerbread’s foreleg slid around her shoulder, hugging Gusty against her side. “Gingerbread, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The earth pony buried her muzzle in her short mane, inhaling the other pony’s familiar scent. Gusty always smelled crisp and cool, like an autumn breeze, and Gingerbread liked her partner’s scent more than that of any baked good. “Well,” she pressed a kiss against one of the unicorn’s velvety ears, “you’ll never have to find out.”

“Do be careful so you don’t break anything, dear.”

“I’m always careful, Daddy!”

Cupcake smiled to herself, sinking further into the cushions of the velour sofa in the living room, and sighing happily as some of the tension seeped from her heavy body. She’d been so busy the past few weeks that she’d forgotten how nice it was to just relax and let somepony else handle things and as she settled against a throw pillow, she felt like singing in jubilation.

Of course, it wasn’t just the work load that had left her exhausted and tense; with just a few weeks until the new foal was due to enter the world, her body had become very awkward and unwieldy, making both everyday tasks and the extra work she’d been plowing through more difficult than it should have been. She found herself tiring easily, her back aching against the strain of the extra weight she was carrying. It had been long enough since Lemon Meringue was born that she’d forgotten how trying the final weeks of pregnancy were and had she known at the time she’d accepted the Hearth’s Warming catering job that she’d be pregnant and this much so, she never would have taken the job.

Thank Celestia for your auntie, she thought, patting a hoof lightly against the side of her swollen belly, smiling again when the foal kicked in response. Despite how weary and cumbersome she’d been feeling, she couldn’t wait to meet the new addition to their family and every little movement, hiccup, stretch and yawn she felt was treasured. I never would have been able to get everything done without Gingerbread.

It was the following morning; the day of the Tree of Light Festival. Graham had taken the day off, having promised Lemon that they would decorate the house before going to the Tree Lighting, and the two unicorns were working on sorting out ornaments, lights, and tinsel, while Cupcake supervised from her comfortable seat on the sofa.

“Daddy got the best tree this year, right Mother?” Lemon squeaked, drawing her mother’s thoughts away from fantasies about what the foal might look like and back to the present. “It smells really pine-y and has room for lots and lots of decorations!”

“It’s a beautiful tree.” The earth pony agreed, smiling down at the excited filly. Lemon was rummaging in a box for her favorite ornaments, a trio of tiny crystalline hearts, each made from a different semiprecious stone. They held special meaning for the whole family; Graham had brought them home one by one, giving the first –an aquamarine- to Cupcake on their first Hearth’s Warming together and the second –a citrine- for Lemon’s first Hearth’s Warming. The third one had appeared on the tree only the year before, at Lemon’s insistence that her daddy needed a special heart on the tree, too. Made of smoky quartz, Graham’s heart was the only earthy-colored decoration festooning the tree.

“And we’ll need a new special heart for next year!” The filly continued enthusiastically, finally tugging the box containing the three crystals out from under a case of glass baubles, “’Cause the foal is going to need one for his first Hearth’s Warming, just like Daddy got for me.” She set the small box reverently on the coffee table, gingerly lifting the lid and pawing through the tissue paper inside to find the hearts, which she laid out on the table.

“Yes,” Graham, busy fussing with a string of twinkle lights, looked over at his daughter, “I’ll be looking for the perfect stone for the new foal’s heart once we meet the new foal. “ When Lemon grinned at that, he returned her beaming smile, then glanced up at his wife.

Cupcake smiled softly as their eyes met, blowing him a kiss from across the room. In spite of her physical exhaustion, she felt emotionally rejuvenated; as if her heart had woken from a long slumber the night before. It had been a very long time since she’d seen the softer side of Graham that had emerged the previous night and over the course of the past fifteen hours she felt as if she’d fallen in love with the stallion all over again.

Lemon Meringue dove back into the box of decorations as her father paused in his untangling to cross the room and kiss her mother. She hummed happily, digging around for other treasures of past Hearth’s Warmings, intent on making this year’s tree the most beautiful one of all.

By the time she had everything sorted out, Graham had finished untangling the lights and was levitating them, winding the strand carefully around the tree. That taken care of the his satisfaction, he set about helping with the baubles and ornaments, placing the more breakable ones on the higher up branches that Lemon and her limited magic could reach.

The filly chatted animatedly about each and every ornament, reminiscing about the decorations’ origins, begging for stories about those her parents had acquired before she was born, eager to know each last decoration’s secrets.

Graham indulged his daughter, patiently explaining just where each ornament had come from and what significance it held, while Cupcake added commentary from the sofa, a chenille blanket pulled up under her chin.

The room was so cozy; so perfect. Lemon Meringue couldn’t remember a happier time ever occurring in her young life; Mother and Daddy gave her everything, but were often too busy for all of them to spend a quiet morning like that, and the little unicorn was delighted to have both of her parents to herself with no interruptions.

The filly had gone to bed the night before with thoughts of what she was planning on doing to prove her coolness swirling through her mind. She still wasn’t one hundred percent certain it was the right thing to do, but anytime she’d had second thoughts, Mimic’s taunting had drifted through her mind, words cruel, tone harsh, and she knew she had to go through with it, no matter the cost.

But there, surrounded by the warmth and love of her parents, Mimic and the star atop the Tree of Light were the furthest thing from her mind; she hadn’t spared a second thought for what she intended to do before Galaxy lit the tree and everypony tried Mother’s goodies.

She had forgotten all about it, that is, until her father wrapped the delicate silver star that always topped their tree in his green aura, lifting it to place it carefully on the tallest branch of the evergreen.

“There.” He nodded with satisfaction, taking a moment to straighten the already-straight star, then stepped back, looking over at the two female ponies. “It looks quite spectacular, if I do say so myself.”

Cupcake nodded cheerily, a bright smile dancing across her face. “You’ve outdone yourselves this year, both of you!” She chirped, clapping her front hooves together, “It’s the best Tree of Light I’ve ever seen.”

Lemon could only stare at the star, nervousness pooling in the pit of her stomach.

Antithesis

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

Gusty had run blindly, shoving past the crowd and jostling anypony who happened to bar her way, headed straight for the city gates in an attempt to escape the unwanted attention of the crowd at the Festival. She hated being put in the spotlight; hated having any focus on her, even when it was positive, because she had never wanted to stand out – She’d always wanted to simply be one of the crowd.

She didn’t stop running until she crashed head-long into another pony, sending both of them sprawling on the ground in a tangle of limbs and scarves.

Gusty scrabbled about to get up, sliding on a patch of ice as the other pony shoved at her with a powerful wash of magic. She stumbled, desperate to gain footing lest she fall again, not wanting to seriously hurt herself there where there was nopony else but…

…The filly she’d crashed into?

Given the force behind the magic that had pushed her away, Gusty wasn’t expecting that.

But the other pony was indeed a filly not much bigger than Lemon Meringue. She looked a little scruffy, her pink, green and yellow mane and tail a tangle, her knit scarf uneven and sporting a giant hole, though Gusty suspected she’d looked like that before they collided.

“What the hay is wrong with you?” She snapped, glaring up at the older unicorn through narrowed green eyes, not at all caring about being rude to an adult, “You ran right into me! Weren’t you paying attention to where you were going?”

Gusty blinked down at the standoffish foal, uncertain what to say. She probably should have apologized, but the kid’s attitude wasn’t really bringing about a burning desire to do so. “Maybe if you weren’t loitering around in the street…” She rolled her eyes dramatically, letting the sentence fade into nothing, the implication that it was entirely the filly’s fault hanging heavy between them.

The smaller unicorn stared hard at her for a long moment. “…Un-bucking-believable!” She tossed her head, matted mane flying about her face, “You’re some piece of work, lady. And why the hay aren’t you back there at that stupid tree thing? Ain’t you the one who kept the stupid tree from falling down?”

“Why aren’t you there?” Gusty countered as the two continued to glare at each other. She didn’t feel like she had to answer to this young upstart; she didn’t owe some street urchin anything, even if it was entirely her fault that they’d crashed into one another.

“Why would I want to be?” The filly snorted, wrapping her scarf in her distinct magical aura and giving it a shake and sending a spattering of slush flying through the air, “I was only there to make sure that stupid baby did what she was supposed to.” A smirk crossed her face, her eyes glittering in the glow of a streetlamp, and when she spoke again, it was almost as if she’d forgotten Gusty was even there, “I can’t believe she actually did it…”

It only took a second for the gears in Gusty’s head to start turning, for her to figure that this filly had something to do with the reason Lemon had been in the Tree of Light and then she was staring even harder at the lemony-lime colored unicorn, trying to come up with a reason why – And failing. “Maybe I’m just not getting it,” She arched a brow, gaze cool as she looked down at the bold-as-brass filly, “but why was Lemon ‘supposed’ to be climbing the tree?”

It was those words that caused the smaller unicorn to realize what a mistake she’d made, Gusty supposed as she watched a horrified look cross the filly’s face, her green eyes going wide. She slapped a hoof over her mouth, edging away from the mare. “…Forget I said that.”

“Oh no.” Gusty shook her head, putting on her best sad, disappointed face, “Oh no no no…Not after Lemon’s stupid stunt nearly destroyed all of my partner’s hard work. Not after it nearly destroyed my partner!” She took a step forwards, leaning in a little to make herself seem closer than she actually was, and lit her horn, “Now…Why was Lemon in the tree?”

The filly gulped, suddenly looking as young as she actually was. She had no way of knowing, of course, that Gusty was bluffing; that she wouldn’t be able to dole out any magical punishment, especially not after the output of magic she’d used to slow the tree’s fall. Gusty was banking on that; counting on the fact that this child would assume she meant business, especially having witnessed her remarkable display back near the tree.

“Uh…” She stammered, shuffling a little further backwards, “Um, I…” She lowered her head, tangle of hair curtaining around her face, shoulders sagging, “I dared her to steal the star.”

That was not really what Gusty had been expecting –the remorseful action or the words- and she found herself sitting back, simply looking at the filly. “Why would you do a stupid thing like that?” She questioned, cocking her head curiously. It was a totally childish thing; something so stupid that of course Lemon would fall for it.

The filly fidgeted, toying with the edges of her scarf and clamping her lips shut.

Gusty continued to just watch her, gauging her reaction and pondering what might be on the filly’s mind. She wasn’t overly good at figuring out others’ emotions, though she kind of had this little unicorn pegged as some sort of bully from the first time she’d opened her mouth. The mare had dealt with her fair share of bullies in her time, of course, and this one fit one of the two extremes they usually belonged to. She looked unkempt and scruffy, like the kind of foal who would be picked on for not having money – Like the kind of foal who would intimidate others to keep herself from being tormented.

So why was she then acting like she regretted her actions? It wasn’t like Gusty knew her and could seriously get her in trouble.

“Come on…Don’t make me get the guard. This is serious.”

At that comment, the filly’s eyes went impossibly wide, “No, don’t do that!” She said quickly, a panicked look crossing her face, “It’d kill my mom…She works so hard and is so proud of me for getting a scholarship to the Golden Dream School of Magic. If I get suspended or something, I’ll be in so much trouble and…and…”

Her eyes started to glisten, pooling with tears, and Gusty felt a little bit bad. Only a little bit, though; this filly had caused her plenty of grief over the course of the past hour or so. “Look, kid…” Gusty sighed, “Just tell me what happened, ‘cause I’m going to wind up having one hay of a talk with Lemon later and I’d like to know all the details.”

“I didn’t think she’d do it.” Came the mumbled response, “I dared her so I could laugh at her later.”

“…You want to laugh at her?” On one hoof, Gusty could understand why somepony might want to pick on Lemon Meringue. She was kind of clueless and ditzy, while at the same time, bossy and bratty. She was spoiled and everything was handed to her – And the older unicorn suspected that this yellowish filly was nothing of the sort. She looked like the type who knew what it was to work, something Lemon would probably never know in her life. “I mean, I know she’s kind of dumb and annoying sometimes, but seriously? You don’t have anything better to do than get Lemon in trouble?”

“You probably had it good too, didn’t you?” The filly looked up, green gaze meeting that of the older unicorn, “You probably took everything for granted and did whatever you wanted with all your tons of friends and Mommy and Daddy gave you whatever you wanted. I bet you never had to worry about money or food or making sure your grades were good enough to keep going to school. I bet you were popular.”

Gusty snorted, rolling her eyes. “Please, do I look like that kind of pony?” Because seriously, if this kid was trying to make a play at sympathy, it wasn’t working.

Her own life had been plenty hard, after all.

“…No.” The yellow filly admitted, head tipped to the side as she seriously looked at Gusty, “You also don’t look like the kind of pony who was only liked for your magical abilities.” Her voice was low at that and she looked away, down at the end of her scraggly tail.

…Oh.

Suddenly, it made sense. This filly was a poor scholarship student at a prestigious magic school, given the opportunity to learn from acclaimed teachers because she had a lot of talent. There had been a few of them at Gusty’s school too, and many of the other students had looked down on them for coming from another world, a world they didn’t understand, a world of hard work and struggle.

A world Gusty could understand, simply because her abilities were weak and she had to push herself just as hard to keep up with the other students as the lower class students often did.

“You’re right,” Gusty conceded, “I wasn’t liked for my magical ability. I was teased for it…Because I have, like, no magical ability.” It wasn’t the kind of thing she usually admitted, especially not to a complete stranger, but this filly seemed like she needed it; like she needed to know that she wasn’t alone in the confusing feelings of adolescence and that somepony else understood all too well how it was to feel like you didn’t fit in.

“But…” The filly looked confused, and rightfully so. If she had seen what Gusty had done in at the lighting, of course she would think Gusty was a powerful unicorn. “The tree…”

“That was luck.” The mare lifted one shoulder in a shrug, working hard to keep the emotions that came with talking about her magic in check. It was strange, speaking of it so candidly, and she felt a little detached, as if she wasn’t even talking about herself. “I didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I’ve never really lifted anything that big with my aura before. I’ve never been able to.”

She paused, glancing down at the smaller unicorn again, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “So no, I never felt like anypony only liked me because I had any great talent or anything. A lot of the ponies at my magic school made me feel worthless for having a ‘useless’ talent and they made fun of me a lot. I get it, kid.”

“…Mimic.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Mimic…Stop calling me kid.” Even with the serious air about them, the filly’s attitude shone through, and Gusty couldn’t help smiling.

“Okay then, Mimic,” In a way, she kind of liked this kid. She was spunky and reminded Gusty a little bit of herself and she was suddenly struck hoping the filly wouldn’t grow up to be as bitter and jaded as she was, “It’s just…you know. Don’t let them get to you, all the other fillies and colts that pick on you. They’re so not worth it.” It was then that a thought occurred to her, something which she’d never considered before – She felt that Lemon was entirely too stupid to be a threat to anypony. “Lemon Meringue doesn’t tease you, does she?”

Mimic shook her head, once more half-hidden behind her mane. “Uh-uh. She’s just…Like, she thinks she’s so cool and all the teachers love her, even though she’s kind of dumb. I think it’s ‘cause her dad donated a bunch of money to the school or something. But whatever…I don’t get it. I work hard and I come to class every day and nopony gives me any attention, ‘cept when I learn a new spell or something. She doesn’t do anything but look all cute and they…” Her eyes were welling with fresh tears and this time she didn’t try to hold back. She simply let loose, crying unashamedly and wiping her nose on her foreleg, “It’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair.” Gusty didn’t mean to sound as cold as she did and felt bad as soon as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t this filly’s fault that her circumstances at home were less than perfect, nor was it her fault that her teachers were snobs who valued students from money, rather than those who had raw talent. It was, however, Mimic’s fault that she chose to be a jerk and –even though Lemon drove her crazy- it wasn’t okay for her to get the other filly in trouble.

Mimic whimpered, lifting the end of her scarf in a wash of green and swiping at her eyes with it.

“…” Gusty sighed, reaching over to awkwardly pat the filly’s shoulder. She hated –hated- being an adult sometimes. “Look…I’m sorry, but it’s true. Life kinda sucks sometimes. But it’s not all bad and if you, like, work hard and stuff, you can make it better. Sure, I wasn’t lacking for anything growing up, but I wasn’t happy, either. But I ditched the world I hated and found a better place to live and even though I bust my flank every day for little thanks, I’m pretty happy. And you know? You can have that too…But not if you’re too busy making fun of other ponies.”

The filly nodded a little, still sniffling, “I don’t wanna get in trouble…” Her voice trembled, but when she looked up again, she looked determined, some of the fire from when she first snapped at Gusty lighting her eyes.

“Then don’t.”

They fell into an awkward silence then, as Mimic attempted to dry the remnants of her tears and Gusty pretended the filly hadn’t been crying.

“I should get back…” Gusty finally said, voicing the first words that came to mind – Anything to break the uncomfortable silence. “They’re gonna be wondering where I am.” She scratched absently at one of her ears, running a hoof through her mane, “And I guess I won’t tell on you…But you should probably apologize to Lemon.”

“Okay…” Mimic replied quietly, still looking kind of ashamed of herself, but also very tired; weary enough for Gusty to wonder when she’d last been able to stop acting tough and just be a kid.

She glanced in the direction of the festival, then back at the filly sitting on the sidewalk, uncertain of what to do. This kid likely needed a lot of help, but who was Gusty to presume she could do anything? She didn’t even really know Mimic; how could she possibly think she understood? “Come on…” She offered something she hoped was a smile, though it was probably less than warm, “I got access to the best cookies and stuff.”

The filly nodded, straightening her scarf and peering at her reflection in a nearby shop window. “If you tell anypony I cried…” Though her tone was menacing, the threat tapered off; clearly, she’d thought of nothing to back the statement up with.

“I won’t.” Gusty reassured as she started walking, not waiting for the filly to follow, but somehow knowing she would. She knew the type; Mimic was likely starved for any adult attention, especially if her teachers didn’t pay her much notice. She would follow; of course she would. Sweetie Belle was the same way sometimes.

“And you should cut Lemon some slack,” She added as an afterthought, as the top of the blazing tree came in to view, “Even if she’s kind of dumb sometimes, she’s really not so bad.”

Behind her, Mimic didn’t respond, but it didn’t matter. Gusty felt a little better just having spoken the words. She didn’t often stand up for other ponies, especially ones she didn’t particularly like, and she’d never expected to be defending Lemon Meringue of all ponies, but something about it…

Even though nopony knew she’d done it, it made her feel far better than saving the tree had.

Author's Note

I realized, while writing this, that Mimic is kind of the anti-Gusty. Gusty comes from money but has almost no magical abilitiy, while Mimic is poor as dirt with a HUGE potential for great magic.

Mimic is also just a child, and therefore not as awesome and smart as she thinks she is.

Making Peace

“There you are! You took off and everypony was really worried and Gingerbread wanted to go after you but the other ponies wanted their goodies so she had to get back to work and Lofty wouldn’t let me find you for some reason so we were all hoping you’d be back soon!”

Fizzy pounced on Gusty almost the second the white mare reappeared near the refreshment table, somehow spotting her as if there wasn’t a throng of ponies crowded around the table, politely jostling to help themselves to goodies and hot cocoa. Gusty shouldn’t have been surprised; the teal unicorn had always had some kind of sixth sense allowing her to zero in on the individual least likely to want her attention, and she’d always made use of that talent in the most obnoxious ways.

Gusty squawked, stumbling backwards at the impact of Fizzy plowing into her in an enthusiastic hug, and nearly stumbled into Mimic in the process. The filly, however, deftly sidestepped, horn sparking to life as she gave the two of them a powerful magical shove in the opposite direction.

“I already got knocked down once today!” She snapped, the sassy attitude returning with a vengeance. She wrapped her aura tightly around Fizzy -who flailed wildly in a useless attempt to get away- and dragged her away from Gusty, depositing her unceremoniously on the ground a few feet away. “I don’t wanna be again.”

The older unicorn landed with a muffled thud, still flailing, this time to push her hair bow back into place. “What’s the big idea?” She squeaked, hooves working frantically to get her hair out of her face and get a good look at her ‘attacker.’ She hopped to her feet, giving her head a shake, and rounded on the lime green filly. “It’s not nice to go throwing ponies around!”

Mimic glared at her from beneath her scraggly mane, sullen and unimpressed. “It ain’t nice to be knockin’ ponies down, either.” She shot back, tail lashing from side to side.

Gusty rolled her eyes, taking a step forwards to place herself between her friend and the foal. She wasn’t overly worried about anything Fizzy might do to the small unicorn, but Mimic was proving to be unpredictable – Who knew what she might do in the face of Fizzy’s thoughtless comments? While she wasn’t overly good at diffusing tense situations, Gusty didn’t particularly want to find out.

“…What is she doing here?” Whatever was about to happen next was interrupted by Lemon Meringue’s sudden arrival on the scene. She cast a suspicious glance in Mimic’s direction, giving the other filly a dark look, then peered up at Gusty.

The older unicorn frowned down at her, not at all liking the demanding look on the filly’s face. “Isn’t everypony invited to the Tree Lighting Festival?” She asked mildly, cocking a brow as she gazed down at Lemon. She had learned pretty quickly that one needed to be firm with the yellow filly; arguing with her got you nowhere.

Lemon scowled, tossing her mane and rearranging her fluffy scarf around her neck. “That’s not what I mean and you know it, Gusty!” She snapped, not even thinking about the fact that Gusty might not have had any idea who Mimic was in relation to her.

The white mare looked down at Lemon for a moment, searching her face for something, though she wasn’t sure what. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the other two, who were still standing behind her. Fizzy was still half-glaring at Mimic, but the filly seemed to have forgotten about her and was hiding behind her mane, green gaze fixed on Lemon Meringue. “Fizzy,” Gusty began, startling her friend, “will you take Mimic to get a cookie or something? I want to have a little chat with Lemon Meringue.”

“What? Gusty-!” Fizzy started to protest, but the other mare cut her off.

“Just…go!” She snapped, stamping her hoof against the snowy ground and shooting a look that would brook no argument in the teal unicorn’s direction.

Fizzy knew that look all too well; it was Gusty’s no nonsense, you-better-do-as-I-say look. She wheeled about, wrapping her own soft pink magic around Mimic and dragging the unwilling filly along behind her towards the refreshment table.

Satisfied that her friend would follow her instructions, Gusty turned back to Lemon Meringue, giving the filly a cool look. “I kinda had this idea that you’re smarter than I thought, Lemon. I guess I thought wrong, because what you did today was pretty stupid.”

“It was Mimic’s fault!” Lemon protested in that special obnoxious, whiny tone that only children knew how to speak with, “She’s the one who dared me to do it!”

“It is not Mimic’s fault.” Gusty countered, rolling her eyes and giving the filly a Look, “You were the one who took her stupid dare. You coulda just walked away from the situation, but for whatever reason, you decided to go along with it and climb that tree. And you almost wrecked everything…What the hay were you thinking?”

Lemon stared up at her, eyes filling with tears. It wasn’t often that she got yelled at -or even reprimanded- for anything and her immediate reaction was always to cry. It was usually effective, especially with her teachers at school and her mother. She wasn’t sure if it would work with Gusty -the older unicorn was a lot more unemotional than most of the others in her life- but it was such a normal reaction there was no way she could even stop it. “I…I didn’t mean to…I mean, I…I just don’t want her making fun of me!”

“Lemon…” Gusty was trying to be patient, really she was. But she wasn’t especially good at dealing with children and their weird logic – There was a reason she didn’t often spend time with foals. “Ponies are always gonna make fun of you. Everypony gets picked on, no matter how cool and talented they are. But you know? Ponies are less likely to make fun of you if you don’t let what they say get to you. D’you know why Mimic goes after you?”

“Because she’s a jerk!” Lemon tossed her head, the tears drying as quick as they started as she turned up her nose, “She-”

“Lemon!” Gusty shot her a sharp look, effectively silencing her. The filly glared back at her, but didn’t bother to argue anymore, just sat there, looking grumpy. Gusty stared at her hard, frosty blue gaze piercing. What were Cupcake and Graham teaching their daughter? Why did she think it was okay to be mean like that? And why was Gusty the one there, talking to her about her bad attitude? “…What’s school like for Mimic?”

For a moment, the filly looked confused, cocking her head and blinking brightly blue eyes up at Gusty. “Um…” She began slowly, taking a moment to really think about it, “I dunno. Not so good? The others make fun of her a lot ‘cause she’s poor and dirty sometimes and never combs her mane.”

“Y’ever think that’s maybe why she’s so mean?”

“…That’s a dumb reason to be mean.”

“Would you want to be nice to somepony who’s mean to you?” Gusty countered, arching a brow as she looked down at the foal, “’Cause I’m kind of thinking no.” She herself had certainly never been inclined to be kind to the other ponies who made fun of and teased her and she could only imagine what Mimic’s life was like, if she was poor and different and didn’t fit in.

“…No.” Lemon’s response was a mumble directed at the ground.

Gusty watched as the filly pawed at the snow beneath her hooves, tail lashing anxiously. She had her head lowered and was hiding her face behind the tangle of her mane, expression obscured by the curly locks.

For a moment, as she looked down at the little yellow unicorn, Gusty almost felt bad for her.

But it crossed her mind…Would Lemon Meringue actually feel bad, if Gusty hadn’t brought the subject up? She had the grace to look ashamed, but would it ever have crossed her mind that maybe things could be different with Mimic if her own attitude changed? The older unicorn, having survived her own bullying, didn’t think so. She knew all too well how easy it was for foals to justify their actions – Hadn’t Lemon done it only mere moments ago?

That thought left Gusty feeling rather unsympathetic , though she wasn’t sure it was entirely Lemon’s fault. If her parents weren’t teaching the right way to act, there was no way she would possibly learn.

“Look,” the older unicorn finally said, “I’m not saying you have to be friends with her. And I’m not saying you gotta like her or even be nice to her. But you should respect her, because every pony deserves that. And even if she still treats you bad, at least you behaved better.”

“Fine.” When Lemon looked back up, her blue eyes were lit with some strange fire, her expression something similar to one the mare had seen on Graham’s face only a couple days before. “I’ll be the better pony, because I am the better pony.” The statement was followed by her usual dramatic toss of her mane, her nose turned up, eyes sliding shut.

Looking like that, she was the epitome of snobbery, a prime example of everything Gusty had hated about Canterlot and everything she had sought to escape.

The white unicorn was about to open her mouth in response to Lemon’s less-than-enthusiastic declaration when a flash of lime green and pink entered her line of vision.

Mimic had made her way back from the refreshment table.

“I’m sorry!” And there was Fizzy, suddenly back by Gusty’s side, prancing anxiously in place, curls flying in her face, “I tried to keep her over there, I swear! But she didn’t really want to listen to me.” The teal mare’s magenta eyes were wide and, as soon as she stopped speaking, she began worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Given that she hadn’t been completely sure what she was going to say to Lemon Meringue next –and fairly certain she would have flown off the handle in the face of the spoiled filly’s attitude- Gusty was actually glad for the distraction. “It’s okay,” She assured her friend, glancing at the two small unicorns, “…I think.”

Mimic had advanced a few steps, wary emerald gaze fixed firmly on Lemon’s face. Crouched low with her shoulders squared, her posture was defensive and she made Gusty think of an injured raccoon she had once encountered in the park. It had been in pain and needed help, but –uncertain whether or not it was safe to approach the groundspony- it had hung back, staring at her nervously until Gusty herself had decided the best course of action would be to just leave it and get Fluttershy.

Only here, there was no Fluttershy to intervene, only Gusty, left to deal with a situation she was incredibly ill-equipped to handle.

She watched, uncertainty and a small amount of dread curling in her belly, as Mimic took a few tightly controlled steps closer. The filly’s limp mane hid most of her face, so Gusty could only guess at what she might be feeling or thinking, but the way she was moving…It didn’t appear that whatever would come next would be a good thing.

“’M sorry.” From under her hair, Mimic mumbled something, not bothering to neither look up nor speak up. Instead, she sat on her rump, only a foot or so away from Lemon, her hidden gaze cast somewhere to the left of the other small pony.

At the whispered apology, Lemon’s head dropped, all air of snootiness surrounding her vanishing just like that. She looked at her schoolmate, eyes widening and standing out brightly blue against the pale yellow of her coat, a look of sheer surprise making a home for itself on her face. “…What?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” At that, Mimic did look up, limp hair parting to reveal a mouth set in a thin line and luminous green eyes, bright with shame and fear, “I shouldn’t a dared you to do something so stupid. I shouldn’t a dared you to do anything. Just…please, please don’t tell nopony, because I don’t wanna get in trouble and lose my scholarship.”

She sounded desperate, though Gusty suspected she spent most of her life trying to seem anything but.

Lemon looked at her quietly for a long moment, the thoughts flickering through her mind practically visible. Being a young pony, she hadn’t yet learned to master her emotions, and a wide array of different feelings crossed her face at lightning speed. For a moment, she looked positively devious and wicked, as if her exact intent were to get the other filly in trouble; as if she would relish the very thought. Then she looked sad for a second, mouth turning downwards, ears flattening back. Then shameful, as if perhaps Mimic’s problems were somehow her fault.

And, finally, her customary innocent expression settled back in place on her face, and she smiled, giving Mimic the sugary expression she usually saved for her parents. “I won’t tell,” she practically chirped the words, “but you must be nice to me from now on. No more calling me a baby or saying I’m stupid or making fun of me.” She finished with a smug smile, eyes twinkling in the glow of the Tree of Light’s magical candles.

Gusty glanced over at Mimic, having absolutely no clue how the other filly might respond to that. The way Lemon Meringue had said it –so casually, yet so positively cruelly- would have sent Gusty herself into a snit as a young mare.

But Mimic just looked coolly back at Lemon, gaze assessing, all of the fear leaving her eyes. “I’ll treat you nice when you treat me nice.” She said stubbornly, turning up her own muzzle in a mockery of Lemon’s earlier snobbery, “Because it ain’t fair if you get to be all rude still. Maybe I did somethin’ dumb, but so did you…And you could get in big trouble to, you know, ‘cause you tried to steal Galaxy’s star.”

At that, Lemon’s expression hardened again, her guileless eyes narrowing beneath the brim of her sooty grey crocheted beret.

She opened her eyes to respond, but Gusty –suddenly incredibly tired and not wanting there to be a scene- cut her off. “Can’t you both just be a little nicer to each other?” As she looked between the two fillies, Gusty found herself wishing for nothing more than to return to her mundane life, where things were so much less complicated and made sense.

“…Fine!” They both spat out the word at the same time, though they both sounded as if they hated the idea. Lemon’s voice was high with indignity, her cheeks flushed red, while Mimic’s tone was solemn and deep, the voice of an already world-weary child.

Then Lemon turned tail and trotted away, clearly indicating that now was not the time to start being nice. Gusty watched her retreating figure –her nose high in the air again, her tail bouncing in a mess of curls- and shook her head slightly.

Then she turned and looked at Mimic, who was glaring after the other filly.

“I, uh, should be getting back to…” Gusty wasn’t sure what to say anymore, so she just gestured vaguely in the direction of the refreshment table, “But…I’d like a chance to talk to you again before I leave town.”

At that, Mimic cast a suspicious glance her way, emerald eyes searching her face. “…Why?” She asked dryly, one brow arching beneath the matted mess of her bangs.

The older unicorn lifted a shoulder in half a shrug, pale blue eyes never leaving the filly’s face. “You remind me of me.”

Author's Note

Look at that...I'm finally back in business!

Magic to the Rescue

“Our Tree of Light this year was donated by Pine Needle and Spearmint, the ever-generous ponies of the Evergreen Tree Nursery. They assured me that it is their finest tree, and as it stands before us, waiting to be lit, we can see that this magnificent Noble Fir is indeed a thing beauty. It stands a proud thirty feet tall and was erected here just beyond the citadel by a team of pegasi who took time out of their busy schedule with the Royal Weather Team to hoist it. Decorations were furnished as always by Galaxy, who will now say a few words about the significance of the Tree of Light before illuminating it.”

Gusty rolled her eyes as Razzle Dazzle stepped down from the podium in front of the patiently waiting tree, glancing anywhere but at her mother, who was beaming brightly. The Evergreen ponies were standing proud and tall beside their tree, looks of bliss stretched across their faces at having such an honor as their tree being chosen to light the night. Next to them, the pegasus ponies who’d put up the tree were high-hoofing and patting each other on the back, supremely pleased with themselves.

A pink-coated unicorn with a spray of tiny stars across her flank stepped up to the podium and smiled benignly down at the assembled citizens of Canterlot. She tossed her luxurious ruby-red and white mane back over her shoulder as she adjusted the microphone, and when she spoke, her voice was rich and commanded attention. “During this magical time of year, as our hearts are full and our lives awash with the renewed bonds of friendship, we celebrate the love and camaraderie that united our three races so many, many years ago. It is said that our ancestors began erecting the Tree of Light as a beacon of hope and welcome for those who are less fortunate than us; those who have yet to discover the true magic of love and friendship.”

Galaxy paused a moment for dramatic effect, flashing the crowd another dazzling smile. “Our tree will shine gloriously through Princess Luna’s darkest nights of winter, showing all who happen by that the light of friendship burns brightly in our hearts.”

And then she stepped back, lowering her head and illuminating her horn. A swirl of pink magic emanated from its tip, winding its way around the glorious tree until the whole thing was sparkling with the unicorn’s distinct magical aura.

The crowd waited with baited breath, silent and unlike the raucous ponies Gusty was used to at tree lightings in Ponyville. Galaxy must have been doing some sort of mental countdown, because she seemed to have anticipated the exact moment when all eyes would be on her before the candles adorning the tree’s mighty branches erupted in a brilliant blaze of tiny pink flames, enchanted to twinkle continuously throughout the days and nights to follow.

At that exact moment, a high-pitched cry of alarm shattered the stillness of the night and the tree began to sway, gently at first, then more precariously. Amid the magical pink lights adorning the tree, a sudden glow of yellow shot forth.

And Gusty felt her heart stop.

Lemon Meringue. Her magical aura was yellow; she’d used it here and there over the course of the week, in the trivial ways that young unicorns often used their magic. And where was Lemon? A quick glance around failed to reveal the spirited yellow filly. She’d wandered off a little while ago, insisting she was a big pony who wanted to watch the tree lighting with her friends.

Gusty had been more than happy to see her go and give her poor ears a rest, but now…

The tree started to tip, headed straight for the table of goodies Gingerbread and Cupcake had painstakingly arranged as refreshments for after the ceremony. Some of the gathered ponies scrabbled to escape the mighty tree’s fall, though most stood motionless, too shocked by this turn of events to really do anything.

And though everything was happening in a split second, too quickly for anypony to react properly, Gusty felt like she was watching it in slow motion. She could see every tiny movement of the swiftly falling tree, the panic etched across Cupcake’s face, Gingerbread’s look of absolute terror as the shadow of the tree loomed larger and larger over her.

It came as instinct; Gusty didn’t think, just shoved her way through the crowd, galloping towards the table and the two earth ponies with no real way to escape the oncoming disaster. Her horn lit of its own accord, the silvery-blue aura of her magic brighter than she’d ever seen. She was running blind, barreling headlong into danger, the flow of her magical energy causing her coat to stand on end.

She wasn’t entirely sure what happened next; her own light was far too bright to even see. She was relying heavily on her other senses and could feel when the tree froze midair, caught in the frosty blue glow of her magic. An ethereal wind whistled through the assembly of ponies, effectively snuffing every last tiny tongue of flame lighting the tree’s branches, lest a candle fall and set something not meant to burn on fire.

“Gusty!”

From somewhere in the heavy branches of the tree, a piping voice shouted her name. Gusty forced her eyes open, nearly losing focus and dropping the tree in the process. She didn’t have good control over her magic on a good day and this was decidedly not a good day. Still straining to hold the tree steady, she looked up, searching for the source of the voice. She resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from her brow, grit her teeth, and continued the search.

“Gusty, help me!” There! Lemon was clinging to an upper branch, all four of her limbs wrapped around it as it creaked against her weight. She wasn’t a particularly big filly, but the higher up in the tree one got, the smaller and weaker the branches became. The little unicorn looked terrified; she was shaking uncontrollably.

Gusty could feel her whole body growing damp with perspiration; there was no way she could hold the tree up much longer, let alone levitate the filly safely from the its branches. Her magical abilities weren’t refined enough to do two things at once and she knew that the only way to help Lemon Meringue was to let the tree fall and vice versa.

“Don’t worry!” A new voice broke the silence and caused time to regain its natural flow. Lofty came swooping in, wings flapping willy-nilly as she careened over the crowd of onlookers at a dizzying pace, “You take care a the tree, Gusty! I’ll get the kid!” She attempted to pull up, only to misjudge the distance between herself and the tree, and went flying face first into the branches.

“Lofty!” Fizzy had suddenly appeared at Gusty’s side, eyes impossibly wide. She winced when her friend disappeared into the tree, prancing past the white unicorn and straight towards the precariously balanced fir.

The branches stirred a little as the blonde pegasus popped her head out, looking rumpled but no worse for the wear. “I’m okay!” She called down to the teal unicorn, pulling herself free from the branches. A shower of pine needles rained down as she flapped her wings, bouncing off Fizzy’s head and littering the snowy ground. “And I’ll get Lemon; hold on a sec.”

She zipped up a little higher, reaching into the branches and tugging the filly free. The tree groaned ominously as it was jostled, sagging a little further towards the ground. Gusty braced herself, leaning in, as if the motion would strengthen her flagging magic and keep the tree from falling.

It was at that time that the rest of the ponies gathered to watch the tree lighting ceremony seemed to regain their wits; as Lofty spiraled towards the ground with Lemon Meringue dangling below her, several other pegasi and unicorns sprang into action, the unicorns employing their magic to help stabilize the tree as the pegasi set about securing it upright in its stand once more.

As the other ponies took over, Gusty slumped, sitting back on her haunches and dragging a hoof across her brow to wipe away the sweat gathered under her bangs. Her weakening aura dissipated quickly when she stopped trying to force her magic, and she closed her eyes for a moment, too drained to deal with the flurry of activity taking place around her.

“Gusty!” Gingerbread’s voice cut through the haze of exhaustion that clouded the unicorn’s mind and Gusty opened her eyes, turning to see the earth pony cantering towards her. “Gusty, that was amazing!” Gingerbread skidded to a stop in front of her, breath coming in little puffs of white against the chill of the night.

Gusty was quiet for a moment, slowly looking all around her at the whirl of ponies rushing to fix the problems. Over near the refreshment table, Cupcake was hugging and kissing Lemon Meringue as if her life depended on it, Graham with a foreleg wrapped protectively around both dam and filly. Lofty was sitting nearby, patient while Fizzy picked pine needles from her braided mane. Galaxy and Razzle Dazzle were bossing around the ponies straightening the tree, the former checking to see that her magic candles were all still in place, the latter berating the pegasi for not properly securing the tree to begin with. And all of the spectators were chatting among themselves, some laughing with relief now that the danger had passed, their excited voices mixing and mingling as they waited for the festivities to get back on track.

Then she looked back at Gingerbread, taking in her sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks, the way her bangs ruffled on the gentle night breeze. And it hit her then, as Gingerbread smiled at her, that if her magic hadn’t worked the way she wanted it to…Gingerbread could have been crushed beneath the tree. She could have been hurt.

She could have died.

For the second time in the past ten minutes, Gusty felt as if her heart had ceased to function within her chest. The thought of Gingerbread being hurt –or worse- was unbearable; how would Gusty be able to function without her? Their lives had become so intertwined that the unicorn couldn’t imagine ever being without Gingerbread again.

And there, as the tree blazed back to life, as the crowd of ponies abandoned decorum in favor of cheering wildly and stamping their hooves against the ground, as –from somewhere in the back- a heartfelt chorus of The Heart Carol rose up above the gathered ponies…There, amidst everypony, Gusty managed to find it in herself, some last burst of magic that she used to pull Gingerbread closer. And then she was kissing her, soundly and passionately; suddenly it didn’t matter who saw and what they thought.

Gingerbread felt that odd tingle as Gusty’s unique aura rushed over her, tugging her close, and before she could utter a single word, she was being kissed in a way that left her completely breathless, her knees weak and trembling.

“Awww, how romantic!”

The moment was broken by an excited squeal, and Gingerbread looked up, face flushed red, and met the sparkling magenta eyes of a teal unicorn with an unruly mop of curly hair pinned back from her face by a large, festive bow. The unicorn was beaming, her face split with an impossibly huge grin, eyes wide.

She was also entirely too close to the couple for comfort.

Gingerbread edged away and closer to Gusty, who wrapped one foreleg around the earth pony, lifting the other to shove Fizzy away. “Get outta here,” She grumbled, rolling her eyes, “Go eat a cookie or something.”

The other unicorn simply sidestepped, easily avoiding the half-hearted push and sidling close to Gingerbread. “Hi!” She bubbled, “I’m Fizzy, you must be Gingerbread, and it’s supernice to meet you!” She wriggled excitedly, tail swishing, “And gee whiz, wasn’t it so cool how Gusty stopped the tree from falling? I’ve never seen her do magic like that before and we’ve been the best of friends since we were little fillies!”

It took Gingerbread a moment to realize that the strange vibrating her body had suddenly began doing was the result of Fizzy enthusiastically pumping her hoof up and down. She blinked, glancing between the two unicorns –Gusty was scowling, though her aggravation didn’t go quite all the way to her eyes, while Fizzy was beaming brighter than the sun- uncertain what was going on. “Um…Hi?” She had no idea who this apparently hyperactive unicorn was, but clearly, she was somepony who knew Gusty.

In front of them, Lofty had pressed a hoof to her face, sighing in exasperation. “Fizzy…” She loved the unicorn; really she did. But Fizzy was both ridiculously impossible and impossibly ridiculous. She certainly did her fair share of boneheaded things, and interrupting what had probably been a meaningful moment between the two white mares was definitely one of them.

“Yeeeees?” Fizzy batted her eyelashes, playfully tipping her head and causing her curly mane to bounce around her face. She hadn’t moved away from the other two mares and instead had somehow managed to wedge herself between them, one foreleg around each of their shoulders. Gusty was frowning and trying to scrape her off, while Gingerbread just looked utterly bewildered and uncomfortable. Fizzy, oblivious to the other two ponies’ discomfort, tightened her grip, hugging them both and effectively trapping them in her mania.

Lofty thought quick; trying to figure out how to diffuse the situation before Gusty lost her cool and really got mad. When Fizzy got excited –and Fizzy was really excited- it was difficult to calm her. Lofty knew from years of experience dealing with the cheerful, overactive unicorn that very little could bring her down from an emotional high and the young pegasus wasn’t very good at coming up with ideas of how to do so on the spot.

So she just did the first thing that came to mind.

Fizzy’s excited bouncing ground to a halt, her hooves falling away from the other mares’ shoulders, eyes going wide from shock rather than excitement as a pair of soft lips claimed hers.

Though Lofty’s inexperienced kiss only lasted a scant few seconds, Fizzy felt as if it went on forever. She’d never been kissed before; never full on the lips, at least, and it was like an electric charge jolted through her, sizzling and painfully sweet, causing her curls to tighten and her fur to stand on end. In her mind, bells were pealing a joyous tune; fireworks flashed through her vision. And her heart? Her heart beat wildly like a drum, blood rushing through her ears and effectively silencing the crowd of ponies that faded into the background.

All too soon, Lofty pulled away, stumbling backwards over her hooves and looking away, cheeks and muzzle stained pink with an embarrassed blush.

Fizzy couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t blink. She couldn’t do anything beyond stare at the other pony, eyes impossibly wide, mouth hanging open.

Gusty had been about to grab Gingerbread by the hoof and drag her away from her two friends, but when Lofty leaned in and planted one on the other unicorn, she froze, shocked beyond all belief, her own jaw practically scraping the ground.

She had known Fizzy for a long time and Lofty for practically her entire life and still…She had never seen that coming.

“Gusty!” An excited voice broke through the spell that had fallen over them, effectively shattering the awkward moment and causing four pairs of eyes to swivel towards the newcomer, “Oh, Gusty, darling, that was astounding!” Razzle Dazzle hurried over, still elegant and graceful, even when rushing, “I always knew you had incredible magic just waiting to be put to use!” She gushed, eyes sparkling like twin aquamarines, “And you saved the entire Festival!”

And then everypony in the little group was looking at Gusty again. Razzle Dazzle was beaming proudly, her head held high. Lofty, glad for the distraction from her awkward display of affection for Fizzy, stamped her hooves against the ground, cheering for her friend. Fizzy’s manic grin was once again spreading across her face, her chubby body beginning to vibrate with pent up glee. And Gingerbread just looked amused, her eyes dancing.

“Gusty’s a hero!” Fizzy shouted, pumping a hoof into the air. Her outburst attracted the attention of some of the gathered throng of ponies, who turned and looked, recognition lighting in their eyes when they spotted the pony who’d stopped the tree from falling and crushing the caterers.

Gusty took a step back as the crowd advanced, all talking at once, jostling to get close and congratulate her. Somepony’s camera flashed, momentarily blinding the mare, and she stumbled a few steps further away.

Then she turned tail and ran.

Author's Note

I've had most of this chapter written for, like, two weeks. Getting to it was a chore, but...It was worth it. I've deviated quite far from my outline and wasn't sure where to go next, but I've decided...Mimic will be resurfacing next part, but not in the way you might imagine :3