Post by waxworks on Apr 27, 2015 6:18:42 GMT
It was a beautiful day in Ponyville, the morning frost still fresh in the air, and the first brisk breeze of the day racing around the tents of the Ponyville Marketplace. Dusty Pan breathed it in in such a tremendous lungful that he almost threatened to consume the entire morning. It wasn't often he was up quite so early, Dusty spent more time in bed than a mattress, but he'd made a promise to a particular pony and a self-prided Gentlepony such as Dusty would never break a promise to a mare.
As he slowly carried a heavy shelf across the marketplace he questioned the wisdom of this. He was naturally a lazy pony, but would of course keep his promises. Generally to mares. Or close friends. Of course he'd failed to reason out that most of the ponies he knew were mares, and those that weren't were close friends. He sighed happily and shrugged with a chuckle. Ah well.
"PLEASE be careful," cried a voice that had a rich desertpony accent, currently strained with worry.
"Iy, Ardilla, chu need to relax chur hooves," said a spicier voice, closer to the ground.
Two of Dusty's closest friends were a basil-colored merchant named Riddle bits, and a bright red-pepper of a cow named Mezcal. At the moment, the two of them were engaged in a heated discussion about the best way to move the heavy barrels that were filled with soil and shrubbery. Mezcal had hit upon a technique that was quite similar to a German suplex, flinging both herself and the barrel backwards through the air before slamming it to the ground.
"Ponita, this is good practice, and chur plants are just fine."
"Yes you say that," said Riddle, the unicorn closing her eyes in a wince, "right until a barrel bursts open and there is dirt everywhere."
"Chu worry too much."
"And I think your mask is cutting off your circulation."
This went on and on as Dusty chuckled and pushed another box full of wares across the expanding chunk of marketplace that was Riddle's Bazaar. It seemed like just yesterday that it was defined by a single, barely-there tent and a small blanket with a few sandwiches for sale. But today Riddle had finally decided to upgrade properly, and after a visit to the Trader's Exchange in Rainbow Falls, she'd bought herself a new tent.
After several more rousing rounds of pushing and shoving everything had been neatly rearranged. This was all added to by a nifty trick Riddle had picked up at Rainbow Falls, a topiary enchantment which she'd effectively used to not only add a garden center to the Bazaar, but also some neatly trimmed shrubs here and there.
The three friends, now assembled inside the newly erected tent, shared some of Riddle's startlingly thick coffee in celebration of a job well done. While the little unicorn would be the first to admit that her cow friend could cook circles around her, Mezcal would always insist that the way Riddle made coffee was unique in all of Ponyville. Also it was strong enough to blow the buckles off of a saddle.
"To prosperous growth," enthused Dusty, lifting the tiny cup, made even tinier against his massive hoof, "and adequate headspace."
This was indeed the first time Dusty had actually been inside Riddle's tent. This was indeed the first time Dusty could fit inside of Riddle's tent. Previously it had been little more than the sort of tent you'd see in a foal's drawing of what they thought a tent would look like, just large enough for a single pony. Now the three of them were sitting inside with enough room to walk around and stretch out.
Riddle had taken the time to decorate it in the tradition passed down by her family. The floor was a soft nest of rugs, piled so thick that you couldn't even feel the cobblestones of the Marketplace underhoof. There were more rugs and blankets hanging around the tent, some hung close to the walls for additional warmth, some strung up across the tent to make smaller rooms and hide merchandise from view. Some small lanterns hung around the central pole, and a tiny stove sitting on a bed of rocks supported Riddle's ibrik out of which she'd just poured the last of the coffee.
"Iy ponita, chu really know how to stretch a blanket," said Mezcal, stretching out and admiring the surroundings. The normally vivacious cow seemed to be entertaining the idea of curling up on the rugs and going to sleep, despite the powerful coffee and charming company.
"Yes, it will be some adjustment, but I think it was time to make such a change," said Riddle, looking around the inside of the tent with some slight wary mistrust. It was certainly nice but it was just... different. She would adapt, that's what she always did.
Dusty smiled brightly. His own situation remained the same. He slept in a pile of ponies at the Ponyville Trash Yards, where refuse came to reuse. The large, fluffy pony was quite popular for his thermal properties, and also there was enough of him to go around that everypony who slept there could comfortably rest their head on a chunk of the furry blue pegasus. He had no bed of his own really, no real possessions either aside from the cap he always wore, but he was quite happy with his situation. Some friends, some adventures, and his pride as a gentlepony would see him through. It was situations such as this, sitting with friends, celebrating their good fortune, drinking coffee that could drop the moon and raise the moon, it was what he lived for.
-----------
Day in, day out, Dusty happily went about his business carting off refuse along with all of the other Ponyville Dustponies, crushing up some of it, repurposing the rest, and bellowing his cheery Prench songs down the streets of Ponyville. Some ponies would get roses and bits thrown when they sang, but when Dusty's voice was heard everypony knew it was time to hurl garbage. He loved it, the cascade of rubbish into his wagon as he sang out, walking around every corner of Ponyville that was on his route, sometimes to places outside of his route, stopping to visit friends, pausing to make new ones, and then it was off for an evening at the Stirrup Cup with food and more friends.
Some nights he'd sit up on the hills overlooking Ponyville and just smile at the stars, wondering about everything he could. Some nights were bright, some nights were dark, but he found they'd always pass quite nicely with the assistance of the stars.
Following one of these particularly nice nights Dusty was making his way through the marketplace with a song on his lips and a cart strapped to his back, when he decided to put a stop in at his favorite little Bazaar. Of course it was hardly little anymore these days, and sitting out front was its charming owner, a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed...
...sleeping unicorn.
Dusty raised his eyebrows and gently nudged Riddle with his wide nose. She snapped awake and immediately began to rattle off.
"HELLO SIR WELCOME TO THE BAZAAR."
"Hello yourself," purred Dusty, as Riddle collected her thoughts and blushed harshly at being caught sleeping on the job.
"Ah! Dusty sir, I am so sorry, did you need something? Some lunch, perhaps?"
"Ah, I could always use some lunch," he boomed, as he unhitched his cart and strolled around the central island that was covered in a glorious collection of nibbles and snacks. As he perused the goods he glanced carefully at Riddle and noticed his little unicorn friend had an exceedingly tired look on her face, and she seemed to have lost track of Dusty again.
"Is anything at all wrong, Riddle?"
The little unicorn blinked a few times to focus her eyes, then glanced around herself to ensure nopony was coming within earshot.
"Ah, Dusty sir, it's the new tent."
"No to your liking?"
"No, no it's very lovely it's just... big. Bigger than I am used to. I grew up sleeping surrounded by brothers and sisters, finding myself alone in a tent is just... somehow it doesn't feel right."
"Ah my dear," said Dusty, wrapping a wing around the little unicorn. "Perhaps you might do well to come spend a night with all of us at the dustpony plaza, mmm?"
The tired unicorn smiled at him, "I appreciate the offer, but I must learn to make my own way in this world. I shall endure, and I shall adapt."
She swayed as she spoke these words, and not in her typically charming bobbling fashion. Dusty frowned slightly and wracked his brain somewhat in thought as to the problem at hoof.
"I know what you need," he said, leaning in close, "a roommate! And I know exactly who it should be! I'm betting that Mezc-"
He'd not even gotten out her entire name when a sudden look of panic crossed the unicorns face and she suddenly seemed far more awake than before.
"NO, sir, Dusty, sorry, I mean... I understand your suggestion but-"
"Ah, this can't be, is there some trouble between the two of you?" Dusty raised his eyebrows sadly, as despite their bickering the two creatures had always seemed to be somewhat of a matched set.
"It is nothing like that," said Riddle tiredly, shaking her head, "I have my dreams, and Mezcal has hers. She currently resides at the Ponyville Gym so that she can pursue her training. I cannot distract a friend from her dreams just because I'm having trouble sleeping. Asking for help is all well and good, Dusty, but if I cannot succeed without brushing aside somecow's ambitions then I do not deserve to succeed, and Mezcal does not deserve to be made to feel she ever needs to decide between one or the other."
"That is certainly a reason, but-"
"Please, sir Dusty," pleaded Riddle, with an appellation that always put Dusty in mind of old books of chivalry, "promise me you won't tell Mezcal."
His wings drooped slightly, but he nodded firmly. "It is the promise of a gentlepony. But should you wish it, you're always welcome down at the Ponyville Junkyard."
------------
The pegasus sat on the hill that night, despite the Winter snow piled around his haunches. It had been getting colder and colder recently, but it would take the full force of an entire team of weatherponies to penetrate Dusty's hide with a chill. He likely wouldn't have noticed even if they had managed it, his mind was too overwrought with the thought of the sleepy merchant, her normal self now replaced in his mind by a swaying, barely cognizant pony slumped against a table.
He sighed, thinking of what to do. Once a gentlepony has given his word, that was the end of it, but of course he'd only promised not to tell Mezcal. Numerous other thoughts were racing through his had. Perhaps an ad in the local paper? No, Mezcal might read it. Ditto for posting anything around town. Surely there was some other merchant in town who... no, that was too tense a situation. The merchants all got on well but in one another's company things always seemed to devolve into nonstop bargaining.
Dusty stretched himself and walked amongst the trees, wondering what a proper gentlepony would do. He'd read the old stories in college, of the wandering knight Rocinante who, despite being quite aged and slightly dotty, would sacrifice his teeth and his tails for a mare in need. Perhaps that was it, he could sleep against the tent like in the old days, to keep Riddle company until she got used to it! Although that may have been considered slightly improper, it certainly could help, at least until she got comfortable with the tent. But then that would mean disappointed the junkyard crew who relied on him forming the bottom of the pyramid, so to speak.
After rolling his eyes back in his head and gave a nearby tree a headbutt with some annoyance. Snow fell in heavy clumps, and a cluster of colorful Mooxican phrases erupted from the ground in equally heavy clumps.
"Eh? What's this?"
"IY! Who goes around p... eh? Dusty? Ponorme... what are chu doing?"
"...Mezcal?!"
"Si?"
The bright red cow, clad in her glittering orange mask, was peering at him from within a snowbank under a tree. Dusty was slightly perplexed at this.
"...Why are you out here??"
"Iy, just napping."
"...In the middle of the night?"
"Cool it ponorme," said the cow, tenderly stretching her back with a series of ominous sounding pops and cracks. "I was sleeping, okay?"
"But what about-"
"The gym? Turns out the sleep-in-the-gym thing was only for the upcoming Equestrian Games. Which is sad, there's nothing like snuggling up against a griffon."
No matter how little they're expecting it, thought Dusty. Mezcal had a habit of putting anypony nearby in wrestling holds while she slept. It was no surprise the Ponyville Gym had tried to discourage the luchamoo from sleeping there.
"So you're sleeping outside?"
"Eh, what are chu getting so worked up about?" Mezcal seemed unconcerned about her plight. "Where I come from, my ancestors used to sleep under the stars every night."
"But isn't Mooxico... warm?"
"Not at night," said Mezcal knowingly, shaking some snow from her ears. Dusty winced as he noticed some ice on the tips.
"Well why don't yo-" He froze, about to suggest Mezcal join he and the other dustponies in the junkyard when he recalled her nocturnal wrestling habits, and the no-holds-barred event that would break out if she slept in a pile. A much better idea popped into his head.
"Why don't you ask Riddle if she-"
"NO," said the masked cow with such force that Dusty tensed up for a moment, worried he might be on the receiving end of a lariat or some fancy technique that involved legs and necks and such.
"Well she's got a new big tent and-"
"I will not make Riddle have to put up with me."
"I wouldn't say that-"
"Look, Dusty..." sighed the cow, leaning back against the tree and stretching her legs out into the snow, "I know I am not the easiest vaca to get along with. And I know I come off as... eh..."
"Confrontational?"
"Enthusiastic. But that's me, that's what chu get. I try to keep it eh... eh... strangled? Choked?"
"...Subdued?"
"Si! Subdued when I'm around Riddle to not bother her, but to tell chu the truth, I think she's one of the best ponitas in all of Ponyville, and I refuse to mooch off of her."
"It certainly wouldn't be mooching," said Dusty, worried that despite how concerned he was, he was delighted by what it sounded like when Mezcal said the word 'mooch'.
"It certainly WOULD be, ponorme. I don't take advantage of my friends, I deal with my problems on my own, I conquer those problems, then I stand on top of them and laugh. That's how I work."
"Well what about renting a place in town?!"
"...Honestly I don't make that much. But iy, don't worry! Chu worry far too much. I got a thick hide, and icing is good for chur muscles. Plus it'll be Spring soon-"
"-in three months."
"It'll be Spring soon, and chu'll see just how silly chu were for worrying."
"Honestly, why don't I mention it to Riddle and see if-"
"NO. Chu promise me, right here, right now, chu don't say A WORD to Riddle about this. As far as she's concerned, I'm sleeping in the gym, okay?"
"Bu..." Dusty drooped. He couldn't protest. He couldn't refuse. "I promise."
--------------
The next week was a dreary one indeed. The weather continued to get colder, the snow got thicker, and Dusty looked tired. His normal singing had stopped, and this had led to a number of confused ponies not knowing when to bring their trash out. His normal stroll was now a sloping, slow plod, his world seemingly deep and dank, like being at the bottom of a well. He'd tried to sneak up to check on Mezcal each night but she'd chased him away each time. This led to him learning several new words in Mooxican that he'd quietly filed under 'not for polite company'. Of course each time she tried to chase him off she moved more slowly and more stiffly. He'd paid visits to Riddle to check her progress only to find her randomly passed out around bazaar, everywhere except for inside her tent. It was only by virtue of Ponyville's pleasant residents that her stock remained unmolested despite being regularly unwatched. These last few days she'd barely been able to maintain a conversation for more than a few minutes unless having downed a heroic amount of coffee.
Dusty's evening of food and drink at the Stirrup Cup had turned into stress eating and untouched drinks as he tried to sort out an answer to this problem. It seemed so simple at first, two creatures who were easily the answer to one another's problem, just get them together and...
The big blue pony stared sadly into an unsipped flagon of watermelon juice. Riddle and Mezcal had been avoiding each other lately, and that wasn't helping either. Dusty had hoped they'd talk like normal, chattering about every subject under the sun, and just casually broach the subject but right now there was no end in sight.
Even the Stirrup Cup itself seemed sadder, Riddle's trivia nights hadn't been held in weeks, and Mezcal hadn't been in the kitchen cooking. If only he hadn't made those promises. If only he hadn't sworn not to tell. There had to be some way in which he could fix things without...
A sudden cold realization shot through Dusty so violently that he cried out and knocked over his plate, startling several other ponies. He looked around in wild confusion and horrified dread.
"Oh no... oh what have I done... I..."
He shot out of the establishment so quickly that the building shook furiously. Down the street he flew, actually using his rarely used wings, soaring through Ponyville like a hunk of falling sky. A moment later and he'd slammed down into the Marketplace with such weight and urgency that several stones in the streets dislodged.
Another second and he was in Riddle's Bazaar.
"Riddle? Are-"
"Dusty?"
He didn't even have to ask if she was awake. Her faced peered out from between the tentflaps, her naturally dark eyes far darker with lack of sleep, her tail drooping, her posture exhausted.
He growled at himself and lifted the surprised unicorn on his back in one swift motion.
"Mezcal's in trouble."
The little unicorn was suddenly far more awake than she had been in weeks.
"Trouble? What's-"
She didn't have time to ask as Dusty shot into the air. It wasn't often that he flew, but everypony agreed that seeing something so large take off was quite a sight. Anypony who had been looking out their window would've seen a massive blue blur smashing through the night sky, with a small and somewhat terrified green blur clinging tightly to its back.
"What's happening," cried Riddle, but Dusty remained silent, with a rather grim look on his face.
A moment later and they were racing between the snow-capped trees on the outskirts of Ponyville, a blizzard erupting behind Dusty Pan as he tore through the hillside. There were industrial plows that couldn't do the work the big blue horse was doing right now. In the blink of an eye Dusty came to a sudden stop, and began moving forward.
"Is she hurt? Dusty? Dusty why aren't you answering me?"
Riddle was sounding fairly panicked now, it wasn't like the large pony to be so quiet or so suddenly dynamic. He was just plodding forward through the snow, and it was getting darker and colder.
A large, shaggy blue hoof pointed to a lump in the snow. A lump with a red tail sticking out. Riddle leapt off of his back and dove into the snow, pulling out a quite cold cow who didn't take kindly to suddenly being rudely woken.
"IY! What-" She winced as she tried to move quickly, and her back kinked up like an accordion hooked up to a vacuum cleaner.
"Mezcal! What happened?!"
"Eh?! Riddle?! What are chu-"
"Riddle Bits." Boomed Dusty's voice. The two in the snow turned and stared as they'd never heard such a tone out of him before. "Has gone for weeks without sleep because she can't stand being alone in her new tent."
"DUSTY!" Gasped Riddle, with a look of shock on her face. "You pr-"
"Mezcal." He continued in a grim intonation, "has been sleeping in the snow because the gym kicked her out and she has nowhere to live."
Mezcal stared at Dusty in confusion.
"Now you both know." Said Dusty, lowering his head for a moment before turning his back. "Work it out."
-----------------
Dusty sat on a hillside overlooking Ponyville, the snow up to his back. He didn't feel it. He really didn't care. The stars didn't look quite right tonight. Somehow they weren't quite as vibrant. And the town didn't seem nearly as alive as it normally did. And now Dusty looked up and felt he was sitting at the bottom of a well, and it was deeper than it had been in a long time.
He'd given up a lot of things in his life. He'd made do without many things, gone without many things, been perfectly happy to give up anything he had to. So long as he had his friends, his adventures, and ...
Dusty stared emptily at the sky. His pride as a gentlepony. To always keep his word to a mare no matter the cost. But sitting in the Stirrup Cup he'd been slapped across the face by the image of two of his friends suffering because of his self-styled gentlepony trappings. If keeping such promises meant his friends would suffer then... well... he could do without it.
A tear rolled down his wide muzzle and plopped into the snow. He'd tried to be a gentlepony ever since college. He'd still been experimenting back then, tossed his mane to the wind to try to figure out what he wanted to be. A smorgasbord scholar who studied every field without ever finding one that strictly appealed to him, but then he'd read of Rocinante. It was just for a class at first, but the effect had been profound. He'd determined then and there, in a dorm room surrounded by Ferrisian ponies clad in a storm of self-expression that Dusty Pan decided that no matter what he became, no matter where he went, he would first and foremost, be a gentlepony.
And that was done now.
His stomach dropped and hitched in chaotic succession as a series of low sobs welled out of him. He kept trying to insist to himself that it was for the best, that he'd done something good, but it did little good to stop it.
He looked at the sky again. Wasn't this supposed to be the time where a princess shows up and teaches him an important lesson about friendship? Wasn't the world supposed to brighten? Wasn't something supposed to happen? Wasn't something, anything important up there going to notice a very large pony who suddenly felt far too big?
It was still quiet.
For a moment.
"Dusty," said a small, hesitant voice from his side.
"Good evening!" He enthused, trying to put on a brave face and failing miserably. His pelt was tracked with tears, his eyes were red, and snow had clumped onto his haphazardly.
"Dusty," said the small voice again, as a small aura of unicorn magic brushed the snow from his cheek. "You shouldn't be crying."
"Si."
Riddle and Mezcal had quietly made their way towards him in the snow, exhausted and barely able to move but determined to get to him.
"Dusty... why are chu crying?" The cow tilted her head curiously. "Is it about the promises? Hey, news flash ponorme! I ask ponitos to make all kindsa stupid promises!"
Riddle gently slapped Mezcal in the chest with her hoof.
"Dusty, we understand why you did what you did... and I only wish..."
The unicorn took a deep breath, "I only wish I could've freed myself of my pride sooner, like you did. I..."
She looked down, now having lost her train of thought.
"Iy, I tell chu what I did wrong, 'cause I'm all over that. I decided not to share my problems with my friends. But instead I shared them with chu and told chu not to share my problems with my friends."
"And!" Added Riddle, "I told you my problems but then told you not to tell my problems to anyone even though I told you and-"
The cow and the unicorn had begun lobbing it back and forth until Dusty sighed and smiled at them.
"PLEASE tell me the two of you have worked something out."
"Si, it's all Riddle's fault."
"That's not what he means. Yes, Dusty, Mezcal is going to move into my tent with me."
"Chu suuuure about this ardilla?"
"I'm certain it will work out well."
"I warn chu, I'm a snuggler."
"I will manage."
"I'm glad for the two of you," said Dusty, his sniffling now mostly gone.
"But Dusty," said Riddle, putting a hoof on his leg, "why are you crying? We're both very happy!"
"I... no I suppose it really doesn't matter, so long as you're happy, I'm happy"
"Ah ah, no no, chu don't get to do that," said Mezcal, "we've just learned a big lesson about sharing our problems and helping each other, chu are not going to sit there and not tell us chur problems when we've been loading you up with ours for week after week."
Dusty regarded the pair thoughtfully.
He leaned back and closed his eyes, drawing in the frigid air.
"When I was adrift in the world. Without aim, without ambition, without purpose, I read about a pony named Rocinante."
Mezcal perked up, "ah si! He's from Mooxico!"
"Mm. I read his adventures, and despite how strange they got, and how silly they got, and despite the trouble he got into, he remained firm in his oath as a knight, and as a gentlepony. To be true, to do what's right without question, without pause, to be willing to march a miserable path for a miraculous cause, to be true to this glorious quest, to keep my promises, and always do my best..."
Dusty trailed off, staring glumly at the sky as he recited Rocinante's Oath.
"Ah! So you've finally done it!" Cheered Riddle, leaning against Dusty's shoulder happily.
"Eh?"
"Si, congratulations ponorme!"
Dusty blinked in confusion at the two. He tried to work out what they meant when it hit him and his jaw fell slack. And there, in astounded silence, Dusty Pan looked up at the stars in the night sky, and wondered if he'd finally become a true gentlepony at last.
As he slowly carried a heavy shelf across the marketplace he questioned the wisdom of this. He was naturally a lazy pony, but would of course keep his promises. Generally to mares. Or close friends. Of course he'd failed to reason out that most of the ponies he knew were mares, and those that weren't were close friends. He sighed happily and shrugged with a chuckle. Ah well.
"PLEASE be careful," cried a voice that had a rich desertpony accent, currently strained with worry.
"Iy, Ardilla, chu need to relax chur hooves," said a spicier voice, closer to the ground.
Two of Dusty's closest friends were a basil-colored merchant named Riddle bits, and a bright red-pepper of a cow named Mezcal. At the moment, the two of them were engaged in a heated discussion about the best way to move the heavy barrels that were filled with soil and shrubbery. Mezcal had hit upon a technique that was quite similar to a German suplex, flinging both herself and the barrel backwards through the air before slamming it to the ground.
"Ponita, this is good practice, and chur plants are just fine."
"Yes you say that," said Riddle, the unicorn closing her eyes in a wince, "right until a barrel bursts open and there is dirt everywhere."
"Chu worry too much."
"And I think your mask is cutting off your circulation."
This went on and on as Dusty chuckled and pushed another box full of wares across the expanding chunk of marketplace that was Riddle's Bazaar. It seemed like just yesterday that it was defined by a single, barely-there tent and a small blanket with a few sandwiches for sale. But today Riddle had finally decided to upgrade properly, and after a visit to the Trader's Exchange in Rainbow Falls, she'd bought herself a new tent.
After several more rousing rounds of pushing and shoving everything had been neatly rearranged. This was all added to by a nifty trick Riddle had picked up at Rainbow Falls, a topiary enchantment which she'd effectively used to not only add a garden center to the Bazaar, but also some neatly trimmed shrubs here and there.
The three friends, now assembled inside the newly erected tent, shared some of Riddle's startlingly thick coffee in celebration of a job well done. While the little unicorn would be the first to admit that her cow friend could cook circles around her, Mezcal would always insist that the way Riddle made coffee was unique in all of Ponyville. Also it was strong enough to blow the buckles off of a saddle.
"To prosperous growth," enthused Dusty, lifting the tiny cup, made even tinier against his massive hoof, "and adequate headspace."
This was indeed the first time Dusty had actually been inside Riddle's tent. This was indeed the first time Dusty could fit inside of Riddle's tent. Previously it had been little more than the sort of tent you'd see in a foal's drawing of what they thought a tent would look like, just large enough for a single pony. Now the three of them were sitting inside with enough room to walk around and stretch out.
Riddle had taken the time to decorate it in the tradition passed down by her family. The floor was a soft nest of rugs, piled so thick that you couldn't even feel the cobblestones of the Marketplace underhoof. There were more rugs and blankets hanging around the tent, some hung close to the walls for additional warmth, some strung up across the tent to make smaller rooms and hide merchandise from view. Some small lanterns hung around the central pole, and a tiny stove sitting on a bed of rocks supported Riddle's ibrik out of which she'd just poured the last of the coffee.
"Iy ponita, chu really know how to stretch a blanket," said Mezcal, stretching out and admiring the surroundings. The normally vivacious cow seemed to be entertaining the idea of curling up on the rugs and going to sleep, despite the powerful coffee and charming company.
"Yes, it will be some adjustment, but I think it was time to make such a change," said Riddle, looking around the inside of the tent with some slight wary mistrust. It was certainly nice but it was just... different. She would adapt, that's what she always did.
Dusty smiled brightly. His own situation remained the same. He slept in a pile of ponies at the Ponyville Trash Yards, where refuse came to reuse. The large, fluffy pony was quite popular for his thermal properties, and also there was enough of him to go around that everypony who slept there could comfortably rest their head on a chunk of the furry blue pegasus. He had no bed of his own really, no real possessions either aside from the cap he always wore, but he was quite happy with his situation. Some friends, some adventures, and his pride as a gentlepony would see him through. It was situations such as this, sitting with friends, celebrating their good fortune, drinking coffee that could drop the moon and raise the moon, it was what he lived for.
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Day in, day out, Dusty happily went about his business carting off refuse along with all of the other Ponyville Dustponies, crushing up some of it, repurposing the rest, and bellowing his cheery Prench songs down the streets of Ponyville. Some ponies would get roses and bits thrown when they sang, but when Dusty's voice was heard everypony knew it was time to hurl garbage. He loved it, the cascade of rubbish into his wagon as he sang out, walking around every corner of Ponyville that was on his route, sometimes to places outside of his route, stopping to visit friends, pausing to make new ones, and then it was off for an evening at the Stirrup Cup with food and more friends.
Some nights he'd sit up on the hills overlooking Ponyville and just smile at the stars, wondering about everything he could. Some nights were bright, some nights were dark, but he found they'd always pass quite nicely with the assistance of the stars.
Following one of these particularly nice nights Dusty was making his way through the marketplace with a song on his lips and a cart strapped to his back, when he decided to put a stop in at his favorite little Bazaar. Of course it was hardly little anymore these days, and sitting out front was its charming owner, a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed...
...sleeping unicorn.
Dusty raised his eyebrows and gently nudged Riddle with his wide nose. She snapped awake and immediately began to rattle off.
"HELLO SIR WELCOME TO THE BAZAAR."
"Hello yourself," purred Dusty, as Riddle collected her thoughts and blushed harshly at being caught sleeping on the job.
"Ah! Dusty sir, I am so sorry, did you need something? Some lunch, perhaps?"
"Ah, I could always use some lunch," he boomed, as he unhitched his cart and strolled around the central island that was covered in a glorious collection of nibbles and snacks. As he perused the goods he glanced carefully at Riddle and noticed his little unicorn friend had an exceedingly tired look on her face, and she seemed to have lost track of Dusty again.
"Is anything at all wrong, Riddle?"
The little unicorn blinked a few times to focus her eyes, then glanced around herself to ensure nopony was coming within earshot.
"Ah, Dusty sir, it's the new tent."
"No to your liking?"
"No, no it's very lovely it's just... big. Bigger than I am used to. I grew up sleeping surrounded by brothers and sisters, finding myself alone in a tent is just... somehow it doesn't feel right."
"Ah my dear," said Dusty, wrapping a wing around the little unicorn. "Perhaps you might do well to come spend a night with all of us at the dustpony plaza, mmm?"
The tired unicorn smiled at him, "I appreciate the offer, but I must learn to make my own way in this world. I shall endure, and I shall adapt."
She swayed as she spoke these words, and not in her typically charming bobbling fashion. Dusty frowned slightly and wracked his brain somewhat in thought as to the problem at hoof.
"I know what you need," he said, leaning in close, "a roommate! And I know exactly who it should be! I'm betting that Mezc-"
He'd not even gotten out her entire name when a sudden look of panic crossed the unicorns face and she suddenly seemed far more awake than before.
"NO, sir, Dusty, sorry, I mean... I understand your suggestion but-"
"Ah, this can't be, is there some trouble between the two of you?" Dusty raised his eyebrows sadly, as despite their bickering the two creatures had always seemed to be somewhat of a matched set.
"It is nothing like that," said Riddle tiredly, shaking her head, "I have my dreams, and Mezcal has hers. She currently resides at the Ponyville Gym so that she can pursue her training. I cannot distract a friend from her dreams just because I'm having trouble sleeping. Asking for help is all well and good, Dusty, but if I cannot succeed without brushing aside somecow's ambitions then I do not deserve to succeed, and Mezcal does not deserve to be made to feel she ever needs to decide between one or the other."
"That is certainly a reason, but-"
"Please, sir Dusty," pleaded Riddle, with an appellation that always put Dusty in mind of old books of chivalry, "promise me you won't tell Mezcal."
His wings drooped slightly, but he nodded firmly. "It is the promise of a gentlepony. But should you wish it, you're always welcome down at the Ponyville Junkyard."
------------
The pegasus sat on the hill that night, despite the Winter snow piled around his haunches. It had been getting colder and colder recently, but it would take the full force of an entire team of weatherponies to penetrate Dusty's hide with a chill. He likely wouldn't have noticed even if they had managed it, his mind was too overwrought with the thought of the sleepy merchant, her normal self now replaced in his mind by a swaying, barely cognizant pony slumped against a table.
He sighed, thinking of what to do. Once a gentlepony has given his word, that was the end of it, but of course he'd only promised not to tell Mezcal. Numerous other thoughts were racing through his had. Perhaps an ad in the local paper? No, Mezcal might read it. Ditto for posting anything around town. Surely there was some other merchant in town who... no, that was too tense a situation. The merchants all got on well but in one another's company things always seemed to devolve into nonstop bargaining.
Dusty stretched himself and walked amongst the trees, wondering what a proper gentlepony would do. He'd read the old stories in college, of the wandering knight Rocinante who, despite being quite aged and slightly dotty, would sacrifice his teeth and his tails for a mare in need. Perhaps that was it, he could sleep against the tent like in the old days, to keep Riddle company until she got used to it! Although that may have been considered slightly improper, it certainly could help, at least until she got comfortable with the tent. But then that would mean disappointed the junkyard crew who relied on him forming the bottom of the pyramid, so to speak.
After rolling his eyes back in his head and gave a nearby tree a headbutt with some annoyance. Snow fell in heavy clumps, and a cluster of colorful Mooxican phrases erupted from the ground in equally heavy clumps.
"Eh? What's this?"
"IY! Who goes around p... eh? Dusty? Ponorme... what are chu doing?"
"...Mezcal?!"
"Si?"
The bright red cow, clad in her glittering orange mask, was peering at him from within a snowbank under a tree. Dusty was slightly perplexed at this.
"...Why are you out here??"
"Iy, just napping."
"...In the middle of the night?"
"Cool it ponorme," said the cow, tenderly stretching her back with a series of ominous sounding pops and cracks. "I was sleeping, okay?"
"But what about-"
"The gym? Turns out the sleep-in-the-gym thing was only for the upcoming Equestrian Games. Which is sad, there's nothing like snuggling up against a griffon."
No matter how little they're expecting it, thought Dusty. Mezcal had a habit of putting anypony nearby in wrestling holds while she slept. It was no surprise the Ponyville Gym had tried to discourage the luchamoo from sleeping there.
"So you're sleeping outside?"
"Eh, what are chu getting so worked up about?" Mezcal seemed unconcerned about her plight. "Where I come from, my ancestors used to sleep under the stars every night."
"But isn't Mooxico... warm?"
"Not at night," said Mezcal knowingly, shaking some snow from her ears. Dusty winced as he noticed some ice on the tips.
"Well why don't yo-" He froze, about to suggest Mezcal join he and the other dustponies in the junkyard when he recalled her nocturnal wrestling habits, and the no-holds-barred event that would break out if she slept in a pile. A much better idea popped into his head.
"Why don't you ask Riddle if she-"
"NO," said the masked cow with such force that Dusty tensed up for a moment, worried he might be on the receiving end of a lariat or some fancy technique that involved legs and necks and such.
"Well she's got a new big tent and-"
"I will not make Riddle have to put up with me."
"I wouldn't say that-"
"Look, Dusty..." sighed the cow, leaning back against the tree and stretching her legs out into the snow, "I know I am not the easiest vaca to get along with. And I know I come off as... eh..."
"Confrontational?"
"Enthusiastic. But that's me, that's what chu get. I try to keep it eh... eh... strangled? Choked?"
"...Subdued?"
"Si! Subdued when I'm around Riddle to not bother her, but to tell chu the truth, I think she's one of the best ponitas in all of Ponyville, and I refuse to mooch off of her."
"It certainly wouldn't be mooching," said Dusty, worried that despite how concerned he was, he was delighted by what it sounded like when Mezcal said the word 'mooch'.
"It certainly WOULD be, ponorme. I don't take advantage of my friends, I deal with my problems on my own, I conquer those problems, then I stand on top of them and laugh. That's how I work."
"Well what about renting a place in town?!"
"...Honestly I don't make that much. But iy, don't worry! Chu worry far too much. I got a thick hide, and icing is good for chur muscles. Plus it'll be Spring soon-"
"-in three months."
"It'll be Spring soon, and chu'll see just how silly chu were for worrying."
"Honestly, why don't I mention it to Riddle and see if-"
"NO. Chu promise me, right here, right now, chu don't say A WORD to Riddle about this. As far as she's concerned, I'm sleeping in the gym, okay?"
"Bu..." Dusty drooped. He couldn't protest. He couldn't refuse. "I promise."
--------------
The next week was a dreary one indeed. The weather continued to get colder, the snow got thicker, and Dusty looked tired. His normal singing had stopped, and this had led to a number of confused ponies not knowing when to bring their trash out. His normal stroll was now a sloping, slow plod, his world seemingly deep and dank, like being at the bottom of a well. He'd tried to sneak up to check on Mezcal each night but she'd chased him away each time. This led to him learning several new words in Mooxican that he'd quietly filed under 'not for polite company'. Of course each time she tried to chase him off she moved more slowly and more stiffly. He'd paid visits to Riddle to check her progress only to find her randomly passed out around bazaar, everywhere except for inside her tent. It was only by virtue of Ponyville's pleasant residents that her stock remained unmolested despite being regularly unwatched. These last few days she'd barely been able to maintain a conversation for more than a few minutes unless having downed a heroic amount of coffee.
Dusty's evening of food and drink at the Stirrup Cup had turned into stress eating and untouched drinks as he tried to sort out an answer to this problem. It seemed so simple at first, two creatures who were easily the answer to one another's problem, just get them together and...
The big blue pony stared sadly into an unsipped flagon of watermelon juice. Riddle and Mezcal had been avoiding each other lately, and that wasn't helping either. Dusty had hoped they'd talk like normal, chattering about every subject under the sun, and just casually broach the subject but right now there was no end in sight.
Even the Stirrup Cup itself seemed sadder, Riddle's trivia nights hadn't been held in weeks, and Mezcal hadn't been in the kitchen cooking. If only he hadn't made those promises. If only he hadn't sworn not to tell. There had to be some way in which he could fix things without...
A sudden cold realization shot through Dusty so violently that he cried out and knocked over his plate, startling several other ponies. He looked around in wild confusion and horrified dread.
"Oh no... oh what have I done... I..."
He shot out of the establishment so quickly that the building shook furiously. Down the street he flew, actually using his rarely used wings, soaring through Ponyville like a hunk of falling sky. A moment later and he'd slammed down into the Marketplace with such weight and urgency that several stones in the streets dislodged.
Another second and he was in Riddle's Bazaar.
"Riddle? Are-"
"Dusty?"
He didn't even have to ask if she was awake. Her faced peered out from between the tentflaps, her naturally dark eyes far darker with lack of sleep, her tail drooping, her posture exhausted.
He growled at himself and lifted the surprised unicorn on his back in one swift motion.
"Mezcal's in trouble."
The little unicorn was suddenly far more awake than she had been in weeks.
"Trouble? What's-"
She didn't have time to ask as Dusty shot into the air. It wasn't often that he flew, but everypony agreed that seeing something so large take off was quite a sight. Anypony who had been looking out their window would've seen a massive blue blur smashing through the night sky, with a small and somewhat terrified green blur clinging tightly to its back.
"What's happening," cried Riddle, but Dusty remained silent, with a rather grim look on his face.
A moment later and they were racing between the snow-capped trees on the outskirts of Ponyville, a blizzard erupting behind Dusty Pan as he tore through the hillside. There were industrial plows that couldn't do the work the big blue horse was doing right now. In the blink of an eye Dusty came to a sudden stop, and began moving forward.
"Is she hurt? Dusty? Dusty why aren't you answering me?"
Riddle was sounding fairly panicked now, it wasn't like the large pony to be so quiet or so suddenly dynamic. He was just plodding forward through the snow, and it was getting darker and colder.
A large, shaggy blue hoof pointed to a lump in the snow. A lump with a red tail sticking out. Riddle leapt off of his back and dove into the snow, pulling out a quite cold cow who didn't take kindly to suddenly being rudely woken.
"IY! What-" She winced as she tried to move quickly, and her back kinked up like an accordion hooked up to a vacuum cleaner.
"Mezcal! What happened?!"
"Eh?! Riddle?! What are chu-"
"Riddle Bits." Boomed Dusty's voice. The two in the snow turned and stared as they'd never heard such a tone out of him before. "Has gone for weeks without sleep because she can't stand being alone in her new tent."
"DUSTY!" Gasped Riddle, with a look of shock on her face. "You pr-"
"Mezcal." He continued in a grim intonation, "has been sleeping in the snow because the gym kicked her out and she has nowhere to live."
Mezcal stared at Dusty in confusion.
"Now you both know." Said Dusty, lowering his head for a moment before turning his back. "Work it out."
-----------------
Dusty sat on a hillside overlooking Ponyville, the snow up to his back. He didn't feel it. He really didn't care. The stars didn't look quite right tonight. Somehow they weren't quite as vibrant. And the town didn't seem nearly as alive as it normally did. And now Dusty looked up and felt he was sitting at the bottom of a well, and it was deeper than it had been in a long time.
He'd given up a lot of things in his life. He'd made do without many things, gone without many things, been perfectly happy to give up anything he had to. So long as he had his friends, his adventures, and ...
Dusty stared emptily at the sky. His pride as a gentlepony. To always keep his word to a mare no matter the cost. But sitting in the Stirrup Cup he'd been slapped across the face by the image of two of his friends suffering because of his self-styled gentlepony trappings. If keeping such promises meant his friends would suffer then... well... he could do without it.
A tear rolled down his wide muzzle and plopped into the snow. He'd tried to be a gentlepony ever since college. He'd still been experimenting back then, tossed his mane to the wind to try to figure out what he wanted to be. A smorgasbord scholar who studied every field without ever finding one that strictly appealed to him, but then he'd read of Rocinante. It was just for a class at first, but the effect had been profound. He'd determined then and there, in a dorm room surrounded by Ferrisian ponies clad in a storm of self-expression that Dusty Pan decided that no matter what he became, no matter where he went, he would first and foremost, be a gentlepony.
And that was done now.
His stomach dropped and hitched in chaotic succession as a series of low sobs welled out of him. He kept trying to insist to himself that it was for the best, that he'd done something good, but it did little good to stop it.
He looked at the sky again. Wasn't this supposed to be the time where a princess shows up and teaches him an important lesson about friendship? Wasn't the world supposed to brighten? Wasn't something supposed to happen? Wasn't something, anything important up there going to notice a very large pony who suddenly felt far too big?
It was still quiet.
For a moment.
"Dusty," said a small, hesitant voice from his side.
"Good evening!" He enthused, trying to put on a brave face and failing miserably. His pelt was tracked with tears, his eyes were red, and snow had clumped onto his haphazardly.
"Dusty," said the small voice again, as a small aura of unicorn magic brushed the snow from his cheek. "You shouldn't be crying."
"Si."
Riddle and Mezcal had quietly made their way towards him in the snow, exhausted and barely able to move but determined to get to him.
"Dusty... why are chu crying?" The cow tilted her head curiously. "Is it about the promises? Hey, news flash ponorme! I ask ponitos to make all kindsa stupid promises!"
Riddle gently slapped Mezcal in the chest with her hoof.
"Dusty, we understand why you did what you did... and I only wish..."
The unicorn took a deep breath, "I only wish I could've freed myself of my pride sooner, like you did. I..."
She looked down, now having lost her train of thought.
"Iy, I tell chu what I did wrong, 'cause I'm all over that. I decided not to share my problems with my friends. But instead I shared them with chu and told chu not to share my problems with my friends."
"And!" Added Riddle, "I told you my problems but then told you not to tell my problems to anyone even though I told you and-"
The cow and the unicorn had begun lobbing it back and forth until Dusty sighed and smiled at them.
"PLEASE tell me the two of you have worked something out."
"Si, it's all Riddle's fault."
"That's not what he means. Yes, Dusty, Mezcal is going to move into my tent with me."
"Chu suuuure about this ardilla?"
"I'm certain it will work out well."
"I warn chu, I'm a snuggler."
"I will manage."
"I'm glad for the two of you," said Dusty, his sniffling now mostly gone.
"But Dusty," said Riddle, putting a hoof on his leg, "why are you crying? We're both very happy!"
"I... no I suppose it really doesn't matter, so long as you're happy, I'm happy"
"Ah ah, no no, chu don't get to do that," said Mezcal, "we've just learned a big lesson about sharing our problems and helping each other, chu are not going to sit there and not tell us chur problems when we've been loading you up with ours for week after week."
Dusty regarded the pair thoughtfully.
He leaned back and closed his eyes, drawing in the frigid air.
"When I was adrift in the world. Without aim, without ambition, without purpose, I read about a pony named Rocinante."
Mezcal perked up, "ah si! He's from Mooxico!"
"Mm. I read his adventures, and despite how strange they got, and how silly they got, and despite the trouble he got into, he remained firm in his oath as a knight, and as a gentlepony. To be true, to do what's right without question, without pause, to be willing to march a miserable path for a miraculous cause, to be true to this glorious quest, to keep my promises, and always do my best..."
Dusty trailed off, staring glumly at the sky as he recited Rocinante's Oath.
"Ah! So you've finally done it!" Cheered Riddle, leaning against Dusty's shoulder happily.
"Eh?"
"Si, congratulations ponorme!"
Dusty blinked in confusion at the two. He tried to work out what they meant when it hit him and his jaw fell slack. And there, in astounded silence, Dusty Pan looked up at the stars in the night sky, and wondered if he'd finally become a true gentlepony at last.