Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
2000–25000
Three Weeks
Twilight Sparkle gazed proudly upon her creation. It wasn’t within her usual field of interest—and was, if she was being honest, the kind of thing she’d usually have asked her ‘number–one assistant’ to do for her. But Spike was away on royal business until this evening, she was always interested in learning new things, and she’d be prepared to call this particular learning exercise a resounding success. “You’ve really outdone yourself,” she congratulated herself.
It was indeed a magnificent sandwich, standing proud and tall on the plate like one of the marble towers of Canterlot; except instead of marble, this triple layer triangular–cut work of art was made of bread, butter, fresh crisp dandelion and burdock leaves, forget–me–not flowers and a few other sundry salad items, and crowned with an olive on a stick spearing a rose petal.
In retrospect, she had no idea why she had put the olive on top. She didn’t even like olives. It just felt… right, somehow. That’s what ponies did when they prepared fancy food, wasn’t it? They decorated it with things they didn’t actually eat. Come to think of it, Spike didn’t like olives either: olivine, maybe. Olives? No. Too… salady. Why in Celestia’s name did they have olives in the pantry if neither of them liked olives?
She cast her doubts aside, removed the offending garnish, and prepared to feast, her well–earned reward for a morning’s hard study.
“Oh my, that looks simply fabulous Twilight. Have you been reading the recipe section again?”
Twilight looked up, and was greeted by the sight of a white unicorn with a meticulously–curled coiffure and the kind of scarf that she’d been assured was in this winter, whatever that meant. “Oh, hi Rarity. No, I’ve been studying the history of Greymane’s Alchemical Pentameter spell—the one that turns gold into lead.”
Rarity appeared puzzled for a moment. “Don’t you mean lead into gold, dear?”
Twilight chuckled. “Oh, I’m afraid not! That’s what makes it the infamously inaccurate incantation it is. But I haven’t been making very much progress this morning. All the primary sources seem to be too embarrassed to talk about it.”
Twilight’s stomach rumbled in protest, reminding her that lunchtime was half an hour ago, if only she hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in her studies. She looked longingly down at the sandwich. Perhaps she could finish this conversation over lunch. “What about you, Rarity?”
“Oh—but I had quite forgotten why I came here. Have you seen Fluttershy recently, at all?”
This gave Twilight cause to ponder. Let’s see, now: the last time she had seen Fluttershy… was… well, that’s odd. “I haven’t seen Fluttershy for… nearly three weeks.”
“Oh dear,” fretted her friend. “I had rather feared you’d say that. She didn’t turn up for our regular spa date this week, but Aloe and Lotus haven’t heard from her, and she didn’t leave a note or anything to say she’d miss it. She never misses our spa date. Never. But her cottage is all locked up, the curtains are closed and… well, nopony seems to be home. It’s most peculiar. Rainbow hasn’t seen her out and about, she hasn’t been around Sweet Apple Acres…”
“Did you ask Pinkie Pie?” queried Twilight. Rarity shook her head in reply. “Sugarcube Corner was my last stop, dear, but Pinkie was out running errands. Oh, I do hope Fluttershy hasn’t gone gallivanting off into the Everfree Forest chasing after some small animal. I know she can stand her ground, but… still… the monsters there are simply dreadful. What if she were caught unawares?”
Twilight gulped. Her mind’s eye conjured the image of an angry-looking chicken-snake beast which she’d encountered on a previous expedition into the forest on her way to Zecora’s to pick up some tea. If Fluttershy hadn’t come along and found her, she’d have been a lawn ornament. There were plenty of reasons ponies didn’t usually venture out there: the strange unnatural wilderness, the mist and strange plants, and the local inhabitants, most of whom were catalogued in the bestiary section of the library—except of course for Zecora, who was filed under zebra. Cockatrices—or their cousins the basilisks—weren’t the friendliest of forest–dwellers. If something like that crept up on you and caught your eye…
“We’d better go looking for her,” decided Twilight. Rarity agreed, and turned to the door as Twilight hurriedly wrapped up the sandwich, and rummaged around for her saddlebags, which she could have sworn were around here somewhere…
Rarity waited, and waited some more, and glanced at the plate while Twilight searched. “…a–are you going to eat that, darling? They’re good for your coat. …save it going to waste?”
“A–ha! Found them,” Twilight announced, dropped the sandwich into her saddlebags, and promptly rushed out of the library at a full gallop.
Rarity followed close behind, delicately chewing something.
The cottage door: Closed and locked.
The cottage windows: Barred and shuttered.
The cottage animals: Fed and watered?
Twilight frowned at her mental checklist. Something seemed off about this. If Fluttershy had been away from the cottage, then why did all her chickens have fresh grain? Why had the fresh–laid eggs been collected? Why did her fish have fresh pellets, and her otters fresh fish?
(That last one gave her pause for thought. Fluttershy always was a bit of a naturalist: “the circle of life”, she’d said. Twilight had wondered if the fish got a say in the matter, but thought it better left unmentioned.)
She turned back to Rarity, who had found one of the mouseholes—with a mouse–size flight of stairs leading up to the rafters—and was trying to peer through.
“I can see candle light in there. And—look!—smoke coming from the chimney. In the middle of the day?” She rapped on the door, both halves of which were bolted tightly shut
“Coo-ee, Fluttershy? Are you in there? Are you alright? Has… has something happened?”
Twilight’s ear twitched. From inside, she could barely, just faintly hear the tiniest squeak… but no reply.
Rarity turned to Twilight, who nodded, “I’d know that nervous squeak anywhere.”
Rarity gave the door one last knock, and cleared her throat. “Fluttershy, darling? We’re a bit worried about you. We haven’t seen you in aaaages, and you missed your spa date with me today. You never miss your spa date. Are you ill? Tired? You… haven’t… fallen out with us or anything? I’m a trifle concerned.”
“Ooh, I love trifle!” A voice piped up right behind her.
Rarity bounded three feet clear into the air on reflex. She swivelled round quickly, to be greeted by a familiar pink powderpuff of a pony. “Oh! P–Pinkie! … you s–surprised me!”
“Hi, Rarity! Oh, I love surprises, too! And a surprise trifle—oh, that’d be the best!”
What Pinkie was carrying on her back, on closer inspection, turned out not to be a trifle, surprise or otherwise, but an assortment of chocolate confections.
“Oh, these? These super–duper–iffic chocolatey–tastic treats are for Fluttershy. She ordered them from Sugarcube Corner.”
“I didn’t know Sugarcube Corner delivered?” enquired Twilight. That might be just the thing for a quiet late night study session, she pondered.
“Oh, we don’t usually, but you see…”
Twilight wondered about the number of Pony Joe’s Doughnuts she’d gotten through while cramming for her exams in Canterlot. Reminiscing, she’d often asked if he’d ever be kind enough to deliver any—but of course he pointed out that if he started doing that it would mean leaving the shop unattended: and what if somepony, working late, wanted coffee at 3am? With extra sprinkles? You don’t want to get between somepony and their coffee, and it’s not like he could be in two places at once… or could he?
A few nights of frantic research in the Canterlot libraries led her eventually to rediscover the perfect thing: Moonstone & Majesty’s “Dreamlike Duplication” spell—previously thought long-lost to eternity—which indeed allowed the caster to appear in two places at once… but, alas, only in other ponies’ dreams, which limited its application somewhat, and would not prove particularly useful in nocturnal doughnut delivery. She’d gotten top marks for it in any case: it was fortuitous that one of the examiners had fallen asleep during her presentation, which hadn’t even been that long, which gave her an opportunity for a practical demonstration instead of the last twenty slides. Ah, good old Number Six on her list. She’d never used it again, but… well, it was there. And at least Pony Joe’s had quiet tables, where students occasionally showed up to work late into the night…
“…and then I said that of course I’d make an exception for Fluttershy, if she wanted them so badly, and that I’d drop round! But she said she didn’t want to be any bother, and even forgot to pay for them. But Mrs. Cake had already made them and I didn’t want them to go to waste, so here I am!” finished Pinkie.
“Yes! Yes, here you are,” conceded Rarity. Twilight blinked. “But Fluttershy…” Pinkie followed her gaze to the cottage door.
“Oh, she said she doesn’t want visitors at the moment,” explained Pinkie, who trotted up to the cottage door, left the box in front of it, and trotted away.
“Doesn’t want visitors? She’s not sick, is she? Is it serious? Is it contagious?” Twilight glanced nervously at the door.
“Uhh, I don’t think so? She just… doesn’t want to see anypony,” shrugged Pinkie, and she trotted back up the garden path and over the bridge.
“Well, she seems remarkably placid about it,” commented Rarity wryly, watching the pink pony prance back down the path to Ponyville. “Perhaps it’s… a phase. Perhaps it’ll pass.”
“Oh, but perhaps it won’t pass!” Twilight began pacing. “What if she’s peeved off with us and doesn’t like us anymore? What if she’s been pretending to like us all this time? What if she’s picked up some pernicious pony plague? Oh—or what if she’s possessed?”
“…um, I–I don’t follow, dear.” Rarity looked a bit worried. She could tell when Twilight was getting anxious—amongst other things, she started pacing to and fro. Even worse, she started alliterating—a sure sign of when her mind was running away with itself.
“What if she’s been… taken over by some evil spirit or nightmare beast from the forest? They have wyverns and wendigo and wolpertingers and wraiths—”
“Twilight.” Rarity gave her a look. “It’s… probably not a, uh, wolperthinger.”
“Wolpertinger,” Twilight corrected her. “It’s like a rabbit with duck wings, deer antlers and wolf fangs.”
“…that seems like a very curious rabbit. They don’t eat ponies, do they?”
“No. Carrots.”
“And is Fluttershy a carrot?”
“Well of course she’s not a carrot. She’s not even orange,” said a voice from above. They looked up, to see a confused–looking Rainbow Dash with her hooves folded.
“Oh! Rainbow! Fluttershy’s… shut herself up in her cottage and we’re worried,” explained Twilight.
“…what, worried that she’s turned into a carrot and been eaten by Angel the womperlinger?” Rainbow retorted sarcastically.
“Wolpertinger,” corrected Twilight.
“…whatever.” Dash rolled her eyes. “She’s probably just freaked out and cooling off. You know, taking some time to herself?”
“Time to herself? Three weeks, darling? And she missed her spa date. She never misses her spa date.”
“Oh my, I missed our spa date? I’m sorry, Rarity, I lost track of time. Maybe we can do it again next week… i–if that’s alright?”
Twilight took a bite of her sandwich as Spike finished the letter with a flourish and sent it, along with a spare chocolate, with a puff of dragonbreath. It was a bit later than she’d planned, but the sandwich made a pretty good supper, and Fluttershy had given her some chocolates for afterwards by way of apology.
Still… something seemed… missing, somehow…
“Spike? Did you eat my olive?”
It was indeed a magnificent sandwich, standing proud and tall on the plate like one of the marble towers of Canterlot; except instead of marble, this triple layer triangular–cut work of art was made of bread, butter, fresh crisp dandelion and burdock leaves, forget–me–not flowers and a few other sundry salad items, and crowned with an olive on a stick spearing a rose petal.
In retrospect, she had no idea why she had put the olive on top. She didn’t even like olives. It just felt… right, somehow. That’s what ponies did when they prepared fancy food, wasn’t it? They decorated it with things they didn’t actually eat. Come to think of it, Spike didn’t like olives either: olivine, maybe. Olives? No. Too… salady. Why in Celestia’s name did they have olives in the pantry if neither of them liked olives?
She cast her doubts aside, removed the offending garnish, and prepared to feast, her well–earned reward for a morning’s hard study.
“Oh my, that looks simply fabulous Twilight. Have you been reading the recipe section again?”
Twilight looked up, and was greeted by the sight of a white unicorn with a meticulously–curled coiffure and the kind of scarf that she’d been assured was in this winter, whatever that meant. “Oh, hi Rarity. No, I’ve been studying the history of Greymane’s Alchemical Pentameter spell—the one that turns gold into lead.”
Rarity appeared puzzled for a moment. “Don’t you mean lead into gold, dear?”
Twilight chuckled. “Oh, I’m afraid not! That’s what makes it the infamously inaccurate incantation it is. But I haven’t been making very much progress this morning. All the primary sources seem to be too embarrassed to talk about it.”
Twilight’s stomach rumbled in protest, reminding her that lunchtime was half an hour ago, if only she hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in her studies. She looked longingly down at the sandwich. Perhaps she could finish this conversation over lunch. “What about you, Rarity?”
“Oh—but I had quite forgotten why I came here. Have you seen Fluttershy recently, at all?”
This gave Twilight cause to ponder. Let’s see, now: the last time she had seen Fluttershy… was… well, that’s odd. “I haven’t seen Fluttershy for… nearly three weeks.”
“Oh dear,” fretted her friend. “I had rather feared you’d say that. She didn’t turn up for our regular spa date this week, but Aloe and Lotus haven’t heard from her, and she didn’t leave a note or anything to say she’d miss it. She never misses our spa date. Never. But her cottage is all locked up, the curtains are closed and… well, nopony seems to be home. It’s most peculiar. Rainbow hasn’t seen her out and about, she hasn’t been around Sweet Apple Acres…”
“Did you ask Pinkie Pie?” queried Twilight. Rarity shook her head in reply. “Sugarcube Corner was my last stop, dear, but Pinkie was out running errands. Oh, I do hope Fluttershy hasn’t gone gallivanting off into the Everfree Forest chasing after some small animal. I know she can stand her ground, but… still… the monsters there are simply dreadful. What if she were caught unawares?”
Twilight gulped. Her mind’s eye conjured the image of an angry-looking chicken-snake beast which she’d encountered on a previous expedition into the forest on her way to Zecora’s to pick up some tea. If Fluttershy hadn’t come along and found her, she’d have been a lawn ornament. There were plenty of reasons ponies didn’t usually venture out there: the strange unnatural wilderness, the mist and strange plants, and the local inhabitants, most of whom were catalogued in the bestiary section of the library—except of course for Zecora, who was filed under zebra. Cockatrices—or their cousins the basilisks—weren’t the friendliest of forest–dwellers. If something like that crept up on you and caught your eye…
“We’d better go looking for her,” decided Twilight. Rarity agreed, and turned to the door as Twilight hurriedly wrapped up the sandwich, and rummaged around for her saddlebags, which she could have sworn were around here somewhere…
Rarity waited, and waited some more, and glanced at the plate while Twilight searched. “…a–are you going to eat that, darling? They’re good for your coat. …save it going to waste?”
“A–ha! Found them,” Twilight announced, dropped the sandwich into her saddlebags, and promptly rushed out of the library at a full gallop.
Rarity followed close behind, delicately chewing something.
The cottage door: Closed and locked.
The cottage windows: Barred and shuttered.
The cottage animals: Fed and watered?
Twilight frowned at her mental checklist. Something seemed off about this. If Fluttershy had been away from the cottage, then why did all her chickens have fresh grain? Why had the fresh–laid eggs been collected? Why did her fish have fresh pellets, and her otters fresh fish?
(That last one gave her pause for thought. Fluttershy always was a bit of a naturalist: “the circle of life”, she’d said. Twilight had wondered if the fish got a say in the matter, but thought it better left unmentioned.)
She turned back to Rarity, who had found one of the mouseholes—with a mouse–size flight of stairs leading up to the rafters—and was trying to peer through.
“I can see candle light in there. And—look!—smoke coming from the chimney. In the middle of the day?” She rapped on the door, both halves of which were bolted tightly shut
“Coo-ee, Fluttershy? Are you in there? Are you alright? Has… has something happened?”
Twilight’s ear twitched. From inside, she could barely, just faintly hear the tiniest squeak… but no reply.
Rarity turned to Twilight, who nodded, “I’d know that nervous squeak anywhere.”
Rarity gave the door one last knock, and cleared her throat. “Fluttershy, darling? We’re a bit worried about you. We haven’t seen you in aaaages, and you missed your spa date with me today. You never miss your spa date. Are you ill? Tired? You… haven’t… fallen out with us or anything? I’m a trifle concerned.”
“Ooh, I love trifle!” A voice piped up right behind her.
Rarity bounded three feet clear into the air on reflex. She swivelled round quickly, to be greeted by a familiar pink powderpuff of a pony. “Oh! P–Pinkie! … you s–surprised me!”
“Hi, Rarity! Oh, I love surprises, too! And a surprise trifle—oh, that’d be the best!”
What Pinkie was carrying on her back, on closer inspection, turned out not to be a trifle, surprise or otherwise, but an assortment of chocolate confections.
“Oh, these? These super–duper–iffic chocolatey–tastic treats are for Fluttershy. She ordered them from Sugarcube Corner.”
“I didn’t know Sugarcube Corner delivered?” enquired Twilight. That might be just the thing for a quiet late night study session, she pondered.
“Oh, we don’t usually, but you see…”
Twilight wondered about the number of Pony Joe’s Doughnuts she’d gotten through while cramming for her exams in Canterlot. Reminiscing, she’d often asked if he’d ever be kind enough to deliver any—but of course he pointed out that if he started doing that it would mean leaving the shop unattended: and what if somepony, working late, wanted coffee at 3am? With extra sprinkles? You don’t want to get between somepony and their coffee, and it’s not like he could be in two places at once… or could he?
A few nights of frantic research in the Canterlot libraries led her eventually to rediscover the perfect thing: Moonstone & Majesty’s “Dreamlike Duplication” spell—previously thought long-lost to eternity—which indeed allowed the caster to appear in two places at once… but, alas, only in other ponies’ dreams, which limited its application somewhat, and would not prove particularly useful in nocturnal doughnut delivery. She’d gotten top marks for it in any case: it was fortuitous that one of the examiners had fallen asleep during her presentation, which hadn’t even been that long, which gave her an opportunity for a practical demonstration instead of the last twenty slides. Ah, good old Number Six on her list. She’d never used it again, but… well, it was there. And at least Pony Joe’s had quiet tables, where students occasionally showed up to work late into the night…
“…and then I said that of course I’d make an exception for Fluttershy, if she wanted them so badly, and that I’d drop round! But she said she didn’t want to be any bother, and even forgot to pay for them. But Mrs. Cake had already made them and I didn’t want them to go to waste, so here I am!” finished Pinkie.
“Yes! Yes, here you are,” conceded Rarity. Twilight blinked. “But Fluttershy…” Pinkie followed her gaze to the cottage door.
“Oh, she said she doesn’t want visitors at the moment,” explained Pinkie, who trotted up to the cottage door, left the box in front of it, and trotted away.
“Doesn’t want visitors? She’s not sick, is she? Is it serious? Is it contagious?” Twilight glanced nervously at the door.
“Uhh, I don’t think so? She just… doesn’t want to see anypony,” shrugged Pinkie, and she trotted back up the garden path and over the bridge.
“Well, she seems remarkably placid about it,” commented Rarity wryly, watching the pink pony prance back down the path to Ponyville. “Perhaps it’s… a phase. Perhaps it’ll pass.”
“Oh, but perhaps it won’t pass!” Twilight began pacing. “What if she’s peeved off with us and doesn’t like us anymore? What if she’s been pretending to like us all this time? What if she’s picked up some pernicious pony plague? Oh—or what if she’s possessed?”
“…um, I–I don’t follow, dear.” Rarity looked a bit worried. She could tell when Twilight was getting anxious—amongst other things, she started pacing to and fro. Even worse, she started alliterating—a sure sign of when her mind was running away with itself.
“What if she’s been… taken over by some evil spirit or nightmare beast from the forest? They have wyverns and wendigo and wolpertingers and wraiths—”
“Twilight.” Rarity gave her a look. “It’s… probably not a, uh, wolperthinger.”
“Wolpertinger,” Twilight corrected her. “It’s like a rabbit with duck wings, deer antlers and wolf fangs.”
“…that seems like a very curious rabbit. They don’t eat ponies, do they?”
“No. Carrots.”
“And is Fluttershy a carrot?”
“Well of course she’s not a carrot. She’s not even orange,” said a voice from above. They looked up, to see a confused–looking Rainbow Dash with her hooves folded.
“Oh! Rainbow! Fluttershy’s… shut herself up in her cottage and we’re worried,” explained Twilight.
“…what, worried that she’s turned into a carrot and been eaten by Angel the womperlinger?” Rainbow retorted sarcastically.
“Wolpertinger,” corrected Twilight.
“…whatever.” Dash rolled her eyes. “She’s probably just freaked out and cooling off. You know, taking some time to herself?”
“Time to herself? Three weeks, darling? And she missed her spa date. She never misses her spa date.”
“Oh my, I missed our spa date? I’m sorry, Rarity, I lost track of time. Maybe we can do it again next week… i–if that’s alright?”
Dear Princess Celestia,
It’s lovely when your friends enjoy your company, but it’s important to remember that sometimes, they need time to themselves too.
Some ponies, like Fluttershy, find being around too many other ponies hard. It doesn’t mean they’re ill, they don’t like you, or there’s anything wrong with them. It just means they’re introverts, and they need some time alone to recharge after spending time with ponies.
Maybe they don’t make lots of friends like Pinkie Pie, but the friends they do have are best friends; friends who understand when they’re feeling fragile and give them the space they need, and trust they’ll be there for them when they’re ready to face the world once again.
Preferably, with chocolate.
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle.
Twilight took a bite of her sandwich as Spike finished the letter with a flourish and sent it, along with a spare chocolate, with a puff of dragonbreath. It was a bit later than she’d planned, but the sandwich made a pretty good supper, and Fluttershy had given her some chocolates for afterwards by way of apology.
Still… something seemed… missing, somehow…
“Spike? Did you eat my olive?”