Description:
Moony had taken her shower, Felix had had his snack …and then there’d been no delaying it any longer. Moony didn’t actually have many seats, so he’d taken her desk chair while she sat on the stairs leading up to her loft bed.
Since coming out of the shower and him insisting they’d sit down, she’d gained a small confused smile on her face. He was fairly certain she thought it wasnät as serious as he’d made it out to be.
That smile gradually disappeared as he told her what had happened.
It had been hard to start, so hard to find the words. But between stammers, restarts and mixing up the order of things, he somehow managed to get the story Discord had told him across.
He’d begun with how Discord created him; she already knew a little of it, but he’d retold it to get his thoughts in order. When he’d gotten to be part that described how Discord had not only used the material of his moms, but of himself as well when making Felix, she’d gasped, and made a move to rise to hug him. Her eyes were sad, kind and a bit pitying and he hated that he had to tell her to sit down again, that that was just the foreword to the actual thing he had to tell her.
As her eyes grew wider and her hooves flew to her mouth, he told her about how his chaos magic would have most likely killed him as soon as he hatched. About how Discord couldn’t find any solution to help him direct it, until he realised that unicorn horns were made just for that purpose. And how…
“…that was apparently right after you and Princess Flurry were taken, and they’d just gotten you back. And they thought— they asked if he could help look— if he could find your- your…”
The words got stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t get them out no matter how he tried. So he just reached up, and with one claw, grabbed a hold of the horn on his forehead. It was a bit rough to the touch; he never bothered to polish it like a lot of unicorns do. It was familiar in its weight on his forehead, steady and strong where it attached to his skull.
“…He found it.” Felix finally finished in a whisper.
The apartment was silent. Outside the window, far below them, he could hear hooves running down the street. Somewhere far away music was playing, and somewhere else ponies were shouting at each other. Even farther away, gulls were wailing and a ship sounded their foghorn.
Moonstone got up, and walked out the door. Her hoofsteps faded as she walked down the corridor.
Felix sat still, not knowing what to do except waiting for her to come back.
He’d thought he’d be there a while, but just a few minutes later, she returned. Opening the door, and trudging in to the apartment carrying a box tied with a string.
She plopped it down on a kitchen counter, ripped the string off and opened the box to reveal… white cubes.
“Juniper Tonic did tell me that he had a stock and to just say the word if I wanted to buy some after the corner store had closed,” She spoke, eerily casual. “Just never thought I’d actually take him up on that.”
Felix had never tried salt licks -nor coffee, tobacco or alcohol for that matter- due to his metabolism, but he knew why so many ponies liked them; ponies cannot really eat gems, but most things with a crystalline structure could be made to store magical energy. The only difference was how much they could hold, with diamonds being at the top of the list. So while it didn’t give nearly as much of an energy boost as a gem would give a dragon or diamond dog, a cube of charged salt-crystals was an easy way to buy yourself a few hours of energy rush.
It also happened that ponies weren’t made for absorbing energy that way, so if you ate too many, the salt combined with the energy rush made you lightheaded and tipsy… And very hung over the next day.
He understood that they were very, very common among students.
Now Moony grabbed two and crunched them up, one after another. She paused, shivered, and twirled around. Strands of her stood up in every direction and her eyes were wide and wild.
“Okay!”, she said, and walked over to sit on the stairs again. “Okay. Okay okay ok-ay…” She shuffled a bit up the stairs so she could shove her head into the covers of her bed, which laid in a messy pile at the end of it. “Buck.”
And that was all she seemed to have to say on the subject. She just laid there, splayed out halfway up the stairs with her face buried in a pile of blankets.
Felix couldn’t stay quiet any longer though. “I’m sorry,” he said. Except it sounded more like a sob, to his own surprise. He hadn’t realised he’d been starting to cry.
Neither had Moony apparently, because her head rose to stare at him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, grabbing his tail to wring it in the need to move. “I’m sorry that I have— that I took—”
“But…” Moony croaked. She swallowed and tried again. “But you didn’t do anything?” She sounded so confused. “Why are you sorry?”
He just sobbed in response.
Moony slid down the stairs and walked up to him. “Please stop crying,” she tried. “It wasn’t your fault.”
When that predictably didn’t work, she hesitantly reached around to hug him. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything. It’s just…”
He hugged her back as she started to sniff too.
“Please don’t be sad.” she said, helplessly into his mane. “This …this wasn’t our fault, neither of us.”
“I’m sorry,” he finally squeaked. “I know, I know that. I just… I was so afraid I’d lose you!”
“You won’t,” she said, forcefully. “You’re my best friend, and nothing will stop that.”
Felix hugged her tighter, as they both tried to fit on a desk chair made for one. It was cramped, but neither really could say they minded.
——-
Felix wasn’t sure how much time had passed when they finally pulled apart. Moony was still running high on the energy rush -she really was a lightweight, Felix had seen ponies take twice as many licks with half the effect- and decided that they needed to get some actual food. She didn’t have anything that could reasonably be called a real meal that could be prepared quickly in her kitchen, so they went out.
Moony took them to a small restaurant a few blocks over, apologising that they didn’t have many dishes he could eat but they were the only one relatively close that was still open. Felix didn’t much care what he ate at this point, so just walked in before she could really finish.
The room was small, with a few ponies scattered among the tables. Moony led him to one by a window, and they sat down. None of the other ponies even bothered to glance at them.
The waiter noticed them though, and quickly came by with menus and two glasses of water. Felix was too tired to care, and settled for the first thing he saw that was safe for him; some dumpling-esque dish from the description of it. Moony didn’t even open hers, just ordered a fancy-named hayburger while leaning her head on her hoof. She must have been there often.
The waiter nodded, took their menus, and they were alone again. Moony chugged her water.
Silence filled their table for a while, growing tenser and tenser.
Eventually, Felix broke. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, just hungry. And still thirsty? Can I..?”
Felix pushed his glass over to her as well. She drank that at a more sedate pace.
“No, I mean about… what Discord did.” He tried again.
“It’s fine.”
“But… aren’t you upset?”
Moony shrugged.
Felix tried to smile comfortingly at her. “You’re not… talking much for someone who’s okay.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?!” She finally snapped at his continuing questions. “Why do you need me to talk about it? I can’t talk with you about this, because if I feel bad about any part of it, I technically feel bad about you existing and I can’t do that!”
She buried her face in her hooves.
The waiter came by, trying his best to not look at either of them, and placed their food on the table before scurrying off.
Felix pulled his plate closer, brow furrowed in thought. “…I’m sorry.”
Moony groaned. “I already told you, I don't—”
“Not about that.” He picked up and fidgeted with his utensils. “I just realised that after I told you what Discord said, I immediately started to apologise and made you try to help me feel better, when you just had a bombshell dropped on you with no warning.”
He slowly took a bite and chewed, without tasting much. His eyes didn’t leave his plate. “It’s okay if you’re mad or upset or anything. I mean, you can have opposite feelings about a thing, that’s… normal, Moony.” He kept up the staring contest with his plate. “I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t.”
He felt her eyes on him.
“You can talk about it,” he whispered. “And I promise I’ll understand if you need to feel angry or sad or anything.”
“No offence, Felix, but I don’t want to talk with you about this.” She raised her head, but still kept her eyes averted. “I love you, and I know you mean well, but you’re too… close to this right now.”
Felix nodded carefully. “I understand.” He hesitantly held out a claw towards her, but didn’t quite touch her hoof on the table. “I love you too. If you change your mind, or need to talk about something else, I’m happy to listen, okay?”
She finally looked back, with a tired almost smile on her face. She pushed her hoof into his waiting claw. “I know. And I’m sorry; you’re going through stuff now too, with chaos magic and- and all that… crap. And I would offer you the same -speaking I mean- but…” She winced. “…I don’t think I can be very good at listening right now,” she finished in a whisper.
He smiled and squeezed her hoof. “Yeah, I get that. And, no offence—” he grinned. “But I don’t think you’re the one I should be speaking with anyway.” He sighed and turned to stare at the ceiling. “I’m very certain I need to get therapy to help deal with this.”
Moony’s hoof jerked a bit under his claw, but she didn’t pull away. She also didn’t say anything about that comment, but that didn’t much surprise him; they’d mutually agreed to not try to convince one another on that subject some years ago. It always ended badly.
“…this wasn’t our fault, neither of us.” Moony finally decided to say again. “But we’re both stuck in it now, and we probably— probably should talk more about it together. But…”
“That can be a bit later,” Felix finished. “We don’t have to stress this in any way; we can take the time to think and deal with it whenever we’re ready and it’s less… raw.”
Moony smiled, and put another hoof on his claw, squeezing it between them. “Yeah. We can. And we will, I promise. We’ll get through this; I love you and the last thing I want is to lose you.”
He smiled back. “I love you too.”
Moony sighed and finally pulled her hooves back. “But that’s for later. For now…” Her eyes hardened. “I know exactly who I need to speak with right now.”
Since coming out of the shower and him insisting they’d sit down, she’d gained a small confused smile on her face. He was fairly certain she thought it wasnät as serious as he’d made it out to be.
That smile gradually disappeared as he told her what had happened.
It had been hard to start, so hard to find the words. But between stammers, restarts and mixing up the order of things, he somehow managed to get the story Discord had told him across.
He’d begun with how Discord created him; she already knew a little of it, but he’d retold it to get his thoughts in order. When he’d gotten to be part that described how Discord had not only used the material of his moms, but of himself as well when making Felix, she’d gasped, and made a move to rise to hug him. Her eyes were sad, kind and a bit pitying and he hated that he had to tell her to sit down again, that that was just the foreword to the actual thing he had to tell her.
As her eyes grew wider and her hooves flew to her mouth, he told her about how his chaos magic would have most likely killed him as soon as he hatched. About how Discord couldn’t find any solution to help him direct it, until he realised that unicorn horns were made just for that purpose. And how…
“…that was apparently right after you and Princess Flurry were taken, and they’d just gotten you back. And they thought— they asked if he could help look— if he could find your- your…”
The words got stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t get them out no matter how he tried. So he just reached up, and with one claw, grabbed a hold of the horn on his forehead. It was a bit rough to the touch; he never bothered to polish it like a lot of unicorns do. It was familiar in its weight on his forehead, steady and strong where it attached to his skull.
“…He found it.” Felix finally finished in a whisper.
The apartment was silent. Outside the window, far below them, he could hear hooves running down the street. Somewhere far away music was playing, and somewhere else ponies were shouting at each other. Even farther away, gulls were wailing and a ship sounded their foghorn.
Moonstone got up, and walked out the door. Her hoofsteps faded as she walked down the corridor.
Felix sat still, not knowing what to do except waiting for her to come back.
He’d thought he’d be there a while, but just a few minutes later, she returned. Opening the door, and trudging in to the apartment carrying a box tied with a string.
She plopped it down on a kitchen counter, ripped the string off and opened the box to reveal… white cubes.
“Juniper Tonic did tell me that he had a stock and to just say the word if I wanted to buy some after the corner store had closed,” She spoke, eerily casual. “Just never thought I’d actually take him up on that.”
Felix had never tried salt licks -
It also happened that ponies weren’t made for absorbing energy that way, so if you ate too many, the salt combined with the energy rush made you lightheaded and tipsy… And very hung over the next day.
He understood that they were very, very common among students.
Now Moony grabbed two and crunched them up, one after another. She paused, shivered, and twirled around. Strands of her stood up in every direction and her eyes were wide and wild.
“Okay!”, she said, and walked over to sit on the stairs again. “Okay. Okay okay ok-ay…” She shuffled a bit up the stairs so she could shove her head into the covers of her bed, which laid in a messy pile at the end of it. “Buck.”
And that was all she seemed to have to say on the subject. She just laid there, splayed out halfway up the stairs with her face buried in a pile of blankets.
Felix couldn’t stay quiet any longer though. “I’m sorry,” he said. Except it sounded more like a sob, to his own surprise. He hadn’t realised he’d been starting to cry.
Neither had Moony apparently, because her head rose to stare at him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, grabbing his tail to wring it in the need to move. “I’m sorry that I have— that I took—”
“But…” Moony croaked. She swallowed and tried again. “But you didn’t do anything?” She sounded so confused. “Why are you sorry?”
He just sobbed in response.
Moony slid down the stairs and walked up to him. “Please stop crying,” she tried. “It wasn’t your fault.”
When that predictably didn’t work, she hesitantly reached around to hug him. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything. It’s just…”
He hugged her back as she started to sniff too.
“Please don’t be sad.” she said, helplessly into his mane. “This …this wasn’t our fault, neither of us.”
“I’m sorry,” he finally squeaked. “I know, I know that. I just… I was so afraid I’d lose you!”
“You won’t,” she said, forcefully. “You’re my best friend, and nothing will stop that.”
Felix hugged her tighter, as they both tried to fit on a desk chair made for one. It was cramped, but neither really could say they minded.
——-
Felix wasn’t sure how much time had passed when they finally pulled apart. Moony was still running high on the energy rush -
Moony took them to a small restaurant a few blocks over, apologising that they didn’t have many dishes he could eat but they were the only one relatively close that was still open. Felix didn’t much care what he ate at this point, so just walked in before she could really finish.
The room was small, with a few ponies scattered among the tables. Moony led him to one by a window, and they sat down. None of the other ponies even bothered to glance at them.
The waiter noticed them though, and quickly came by with menus and two glasses of water. Felix was too tired to care, and settled for the first thing he saw that was safe for him; some dumpling-esque dish from the description of it. Moony didn’t even open hers, just ordered a fancy-named hayburger while leaning her head on her hoof. She must have been there often.
The waiter nodded, took their menus, and they were alone again. Moony chugged her water.
Silence filled their table for a while, growing tenser and tenser.
Eventually, Felix broke. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, just hungry. And still thirsty? Can I..?”
Felix pushed his glass over to her as well. She drank that at a more sedate pace.
“No, I mean about… what Discord did.” He tried again.
“It’s fine.”
“But… aren’t you upset?”
Moony shrugged.
Felix tried to smile comfortingly at her. “You’re not… talking much for someone who’s okay.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?!” She finally snapped at his continuing questions. “Why do you need me to talk about it? I can’t talk with you about this, because if I feel bad about any part of it, I technically feel bad about you existing and I can’t do that!”
She buried her face in her hooves.
The waiter came by, trying his best to not look at either of them, and placed their food on the table before scurrying off.
Felix pulled his plate closer, brow furrowed in thought. “…I’m sorry.”
Moony groaned. “I already told you, I don't—”
“Not about that.” He picked up and fidgeted with his utensils. “I just realised that after I told you what Discord said, I immediately started to apologise and made you try to help me feel better, when you just had a bombshell dropped on you with no warning.”
He slowly took a bite and chewed, without tasting much. His eyes didn’t leave his plate. “It’s okay if you’re mad or upset or anything. I mean, you can have opposite feelings about a thing, that’s… normal, Moony.” He kept up the staring contest with his plate. “I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t.”
He felt her eyes on him.
“You can talk about it,” he whispered. “And I promise I’ll understand if you need to feel angry or sad or anything.”
“No offence, Felix, but I don’t want to talk with you about this.” She raised her head, but still kept her eyes averted. “I love you, and I know you mean well, but you’re too… close to this right now.”
Felix nodded carefully. “I understand.” He hesitantly held out a claw towards her, but didn’t quite touch her hoof on the table. “I love you too. If you change your mind, or need to talk about something else, I’m happy to listen, okay?”
She finally looked back, with a tired almost smile on her face. She pushed her hoof into his waiting claw. “I know. And I’m sorry; you’re going through stuff now too, with chaos magic and- and all that… crap. And I would offer you the same -
He smiled and squeezed her hoof. “Yeah, I get that. And, no offence—” he grinned. “But I don’t think you’re the one I should be speaking with anyway.” He sighed and turned to stare at the ceiling. “I’m very certain I need to get therapy to help deal with this.”
Moony’s hoof jerked a bit under his claw, but she didn’t pull away. She also didn’t say anything about that comment, but that didn’t much surprise him; they’d mutually agreed to not try to convince one another on that subject some years ago. It always ended badly.
“…this wasn’t our fault, neither of us.” Moony finally decided to say again. “But we’re both stuck in it now, and we probably— probably should talk more about it together. But…”
“That can be a bit later,” Felix finished. “We don’t have to stress this in any way; we can take the time to think and deal with it whenever we’re ready and it’s less… raw.”
Moony smiled, and put another hoof on his claw, squeezing it between them. “Yeah. We can. And we will, I promise. We’ll get through this; I love you and the last thing I want is to lose you.”
He smiled back. “I love you too.”
Moony sighed and finally pulled her hooves back. “But that’s for later. For now…” Her eyes hardened. “I know exactly who I need to speak with right now.”
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