Prologue: Breakfast of Champions
"I'm going to save Equestria."
Those were the words Lyra spoke, eyes burning with conviction, when she walked into the kitchen that morning. (Twenty minutes late for for my chocolate chip pancakes, I may add.) Those words, I suppose, were what started this entire affair.
"Lyra,” I started, placing the half washed plate in my hooves into the sink, “you can't just ‘save Equestria’."
"Oh man, you’re totally right!” she exclaimed, actually bouncing off the ground a bit. “I never even considered saving the entire world! You’re a genius, Bonnie!”
“Egh—” Of course she would think like that. “No, I mean— You can’t just decide to save Equestria.”
“Why not?” She honestly seemed confused. “Our librarian does it all the time.”
“Twilight Sparkle,” I emphasized her name, in the vain hope Lyra would take the effort to remember it this time, “is the Element of Magic. She studied under the Princess for years, and has the rest of the Elements backing her up. And even she—"
"Twilight Sparkle is a big nerd,” Lyra said, waving her hoof dismissively. “I went to school with her, remember? Anything she can do, I can do like, a dozen times better."
"That's not even the point! What exactly are you going to be saving the world from, Lyra?"
“Well, I don’t know yet.” That was followed by her trademark grin, filled with all-too-baseless confidence. “That’s why we’re going to have to go on an epic journey to discover it. I’ve already started packing.”
“Lyra, you can’t just run off and— wait, ‘we’?”
“I can’t go on a grand adventure without a plucky sidekick or a beautiful love interest, can I? And lucky for me...” She sauntered closer and looked into me with those radiant golden eyes, “the perfect mare for both those roles is right here.”
And then she ruffled my mane. It was just a little disappointing after a line like that.
I have to admit, though, I still got a warm feeling at being included in one of Lyra’s schemes for once. Granted, not enough of one to halt my protests. “Lyra, we have responsibilities here. I have a confectionery to run.”
“Just close it for a little while! Everybody around here is getting fat, any—”
“I am not fat.” My voice dripped with the seriousness of the accusation. If she really thought she could get away with even implying that...
“Aw, sweetie, you know I didn’t mean you.” She slithered behind me and wrapped a foreleg under my barrel, rubbing a hoof on my incredibly lean and toned stomach. “Besides, there’d never be too much Bon Bon in the world for me to love.”
Curse her impeccably corny suave! A fiery blush spread over my face. (Sometimes I quite envy those of us with less pale coats, but alas.) After that, I was taffy in her hooves. Perhaps I should stop denying I’m ever not.
“Welllll,” I reluctantly (and foolishly) started, “if you really want to, I suppose we could take a vacation together. And if we happen to find any world-ending problems along the way, who are we to sit by and do nothing?” I gave a small shrug with that, limited by the fact that Lyra had suddenly begun hugging me much tighter. Not that I would ever complain about such a thing..
“Oh Bonnie, I knew you’d come around, you’re the best!” She took a moment (which I appreciated) to rub her muzzle into the back of my mane, before hopping off and trotting to face me again. “So! Where are we gonna go first?”
I clenched my eyes shut. “You don’t even have a plan?”
“Nope!” This time it was my jaws. “You know know I couldn’t plan to save my life.” Yes, yes I do. Why then, are you trying to risk it? “You’re the smart one, I’d thought I’d let you handle it.”
After a deep sigh and some thought, I replied, “Fine. Let’s go to Canterlot. You know I’ve been interested in seeing where you’re from, and we didn’t really get a chance to last time because of...”
“Yeah, the whole—”
“Don’t even talk about it,” I interrupted. The less thought about that, the better. “Anyway, you know the area; it’s the capital, so there’s a good chance of something being up, maybe there’s even something the Princess—es,” I corrected, mentally kicking myself over forgetting Luna again, “need volunteers to help with. And if things don’t work out, it’s a still a nice place to visit.”
Lyra nodded sagely in agreement. “See? Trusting you with to come up with an idea was the right move. Who’s bad at planning now?” Ignoring Lyra’s nonsensical retort, I beamed with pride at being able to come up with a solid course of action. Until I remembered what that action was for again, at least.
“Good, now that we have a plan, we should finish packing and get to bed.” Lyra punctuated this with a decisive step of her hoof. “We can set off tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep.” She turned to leave the room, before I managed to remind her of reality, as usual.
“Lyra. It’s eight AM. You haven’t even eaten breakfast.” I gestured at the plate of cold hotcakes I’d left for her on the table.
“Right! That means we can leave today! Nice.” She bounced to the table, and levitated a pancake to take a bite of it. “Mmmff. Fwese are ghood.” Swallowing them, she added, “Could be warmer, though.” My eye twitched, but I refrained from commenting. I’d already lost enough discussions that day.
After finishing her next pancake, Lyra returned to her earlier topic. “So, how many spare horseshoes d’you think I should pack?”
I went back to scrubbing the dishes I’d left in the sink while I thought about it. “A set for both of us should be enough.”
“Mmm, yeah,” she said, swallowing her next mouthful of chocolate-filled flapjack. “How many grappling hooks?”
“You can take one.”
Another pancake, another question. “How much ice cream?”
“Uh, none?”
“Well, if you say so. What about telescopes?”
“None.”
“How many swords?”
“Non—” There was a loud, distant crack as my thoughts shattered and I realized what she’d suggested. “Lyra, did you buy a sword.” There weren’t many things that scared me, but the thought of Lyra swinging a sword was one I did not want to entertain.
“Well, no.” Phew. “But I was planning on getting one. Or maybe two, go all dua—”
“No.”
“But how els—”
“No.”
Lyra gave a petulant sigh, but was smart enough to stop arguing. “Fine. But don’t blame me when we have to confront a horde of cateblopas and have nothing to defend ourselves with. Which reminds me, I should look for that gas mask.”
Confident I still had some degree of influence over my marefriend, I turned back around and— Oh. That was mug I’d been cleaning out, not my sanity. Great. I stared at the porcelain shards at the base of the sink until they were eclipsed by a syrup-encrusted plate floating over.
Lyra was beside me, having finished eating. “I’m going to go get that stuff together! Let’s meet back here at noon.”
And then she leaned over, placed a small kiss on my cheek, and said, “Thank you for breakfast, Bons,” and suddenly all was right in the world once again.
