Post by Derpy on May 16, 2015 20:52:02 GMT -5
As this scene began, Bardigan had just spent an evening hour in conversation with his friend Hollyhock about Princess Twilight Sparkle. How he had known her, and whether he would likely ever know her again. In time, Hollyhock left and Bardigan settled into a hazy relaxation. The action appeared to be over. But then...
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Bardigan's House(#1263RC)
Bardigan's retreat from the world is a charming little two story cottage set near the edge of Whitetail Woods. Away from the hustle and bustle of main paths and roads while still being close enough to easily access Ponyville, this seems like a perfect artist's getaway. Built out of sturdy wood and white brick, littered with leaves and vines from the forest as its owner is simply too busy creating to worry about things like that, it manages to be a house without being too ubiquitous among the tall trees. A smoking chimney sprouts out of the side, and several windows usually have a candle or two in them.
Within the house there is a mess of knick-knacks, odd artifacts, and not very valuable treasures all over the house, almost all of which are labeled with some esoteric message hinting at a greater story. All of them, however, are placed with reverent order, being not so much cluttered as carefully packed.
This is a clean establishment, taken care of by somepony with good order and appearances in mind. Upstairs one can find Bardigan's bedroom (the most comfortable in Ponyville!), Diamond Dancer's star-filled room, a sitting area, a back door leading to the garden and a nightmarishly crowded study with books and ink-spattered papers covering every inch.
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There comes a knock on the door.
Bardigan waits a few moments.
"... Hello?"
A few moments pass.
"Hello?" comes Princess Twilight's burdened, uncertain voice. "...May I come in?"
Bardigan's ears flick, as if to check that they're hearing right. After a few *more* moments pass he tries to get up so quickly he falls over. "Yes! Wait! I'll get the door!" Scrabble scrabble. He throws it open, standing at an angle. His eyes can't decide whether to look at his visitor or back into the house. "Please, come in."
Twilight is disheveled. Her mane is full of hairs out of place, her feathers are unpreened, and her coat seems to have known at least a day or two since its last brushing. She carries a small pouch whose flap is unfolded--it contains a bell, a book, and a candle. She trots nervously inside. "I wasn't sure where else to come," she says.
Bardigan has seen Twilight disheveled before. But the way she's so... uncertain makes Bardigan more than a little nervous. He peeks back outside and closes the door, locking it firmly for a reason he can't place. "Why, what... what do you mean, my dear? Has something bad happened?" He bites his lip. Obviously, she *wouldn't* come unless something terrible happened, and there's a frightening number of things he can think of that will be laid on his doorstep soon.
She weighs her response, taking in a breath before opting to close her mouth, setting words aside for now. To a table she goes, and, setting down her pouch, she carefully extracts the strange-smelling candle, the tiny bell, and lastly the ancient book. She turns to Bardigan, swallowing. "Do you have a candleholder? Is it all right if I light it in here?"
Bardigan grabs up a candleholder and puts it down on the table in front of her. "Of course," he says, putting his theater expertise to use to keep his roiling emotions in check.
Soon the candle is burning and the room smells of something that evokes deserts and oceans at once, a scent both exotic and somehow familiar without being identifiable. Twilight opens the book to a marked page, taking care not to break the brittle paper. She plants both front hooves on the table as she uses magic to smooth the page. Her eyes move to and fro as she reads. "I'm sorry I had to come here," she says, only making eye contact for a split second. "But I didn't want to scare my friends... and, well..." She looks at the playwright. "You don't mind being a little scared, do you?"
Bardigan can't help but smirk. "Miss Sparkle, I've had a jungle in my bathroom, any number of monsters attack my house, and several adventures to rival your own. Being scared is more comfortable for me than I ever thought possible." He gestures with one of his wings. "Go on."
She backs down off the table, setting on her feet on the floor, takes a deep breath, and begins to speak. "I guess it starts with responsibility," she decides. "So much of being a princess is about knowing just how far my responsibility goes. I mean, at first, I didn't know how to make royal decisions, let alone what my demesne would be." She looks at the candle flame, watching it for a moment. "Did I ever tell you how Princess Cadance helped? How she lent me her mecklace--the magic one she used to defeat her nemesis and... become a princess?"
Bardigan moves to the other side of the table so they can look at each other, and Bardigan isn't hovering ominously off Twilight's shoulder. "No, you didn't," he says, quiet and accomodating. "What happened?"
Twilight pulls her attention away from the candle flame, which now serves as the room's main source of light. She looks at Bardigan, her face pained but honest, with the look of someone burdened. "I never thought I could be a ruler," she confesses. "I've always thought of myself as a scholar, not a ruler. I was terrified about the prospect. How could I lead ponies when I had trouble even getting along with them before I came to Ponyville? So I asked for advice where I could--the Mayor, the Cakes--they suggested I should go north to see my sister-in-law, so I did." She falls silent for a moment. "Cadance told me she'd felt the same way when she got her horn. She didn't feel like a princess either. But the Crystal Heart helped her." The princess rustles her wings for a moment. "And it could help me, too."
Bardigan is following her. His hooves are clasped together on the table, his face just above the candle's flame. He looks intent on something. He nods. "I'm sensing a very scary 'but' is coming up."
Twilight nods very slightly, so slightly it might be only a wavering of the chin. "She loaned me her necklace, the one she took from Prismia, the evil enchantress. For Cadance, it heightened her love and made her pleas irresistible, letting her bring Prismia around. And it made her a princess by transporting her to a place... a lot like the place I went when it happened to me. But when she loaned it to me, it heightened all my insecurities! I started to brush off the advice my friends gave me, ignoring loved ones, paying attention to Gilda Griffon, of all people, just because she said things I wanted to hear." Her head falls a little. "Cadance needed the Crystal Heart spell to tell her to listen to her own heart. But I needed it to tell me to listen to my friends. It was my first hint of what kind of princess I would be... if I'd been wise enough to pay attention."
"... I've learned, if I've learned anything, that many lessons... can't be taken all at once. They need time. *You* need time. Sometimes we need to learn something that we just aren't ready for, and it only comes later. No shame in that," Bardigan says quietly, watching only Twilight, the little twitches of her face and eyes.
Twilight sits. Slowly, softly, her tail not quite ready to relax. "I think that's how it was with this," she agrees. "I wasn't ready for... I still may not be ready." A silence passes, and Twilight Sparkle rises and pats the weathered words of the book on the table. "I read this book back in Canterlot, as Celestia's protege, before I had any idea what I'd be in for. It was an arcane mystery at the time, not much more. Just the kind of thing that can chill you, and you file it away as a mystery. But now..." She swallows and looks at Bardigan. "This tome describes a set of ritual spells that can transfer life from one being to another. Life spans. The years we have in us. Do you... do you understand what this means?"
Bardigan is silent for a long time. His hooves come apart and rest heavily on the table. "I believe I am scared now, my dear," he says.
Immediately Twilight looks remorseful. She shrinks back for a second, then stands up fully. "Responsibility," she repeats. "It's all a question of responsibility. I don't... I don't know what Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie, and Rarity would say, if I went to them... but I just can't. Not yet. I know it would be awful." Now she looks at the tiny bell, lying on its side, clapper resting against the bottom of the lip.
Bardigan's eyes are also drawn to the little bell. "What is that for?"
"Completing the ritual," says Twilight. "I'm not sure why I'm hauling it around with me. But it doesn't feel right to leave it behind." She swallows again and faces her friend. The one who claims to be comfortable with fear. "You know that I'm immortal, of course. Most likely--we don't know yet for sure. If it were *true* immortality--an endless supply of years--I could siphon off as many as I wanted using these spells, and never suffer a penalty. But then, we don't know if that's really the case. There aren't records of that many alicorns' lives, and most of them die because of... some tragedy, not of old age. But there are some that, you might argue..." She unfolds her wings to stretch out one or two willies. "The book says that the spell is more potent on the young than on the old. Much more potent. The efficiency of the transfer is almost perfect for a young subject, but decreases geometrically as she gets older." She stops speaking, afraid to go on.
Bardigan nods slowly. "So you have a time limit on deciding whether or not to ensure that the friendships that made you what you are never end." His hooves steeple. "You'd never feel insecure again, I imagine, as the dynamics of your life would never change."
Twilight looks away, into the candlelight, and off through a window. She takes a quiet breath. "What if I could give a century to everyone in Equestria?" she asks. "What if I could give more? What if this," and she softly taps her heart, "really is an endless fount of youth? Celestia may never have realized it was possible--she's good at what she does, but was never much for creating new spells or working with really old ones. If I could keep anyone from ever dying of old age again--wouldn't I have a responsibility at least to see if it's possible? To try."
Bardigan looks like he's just been hit by something, very hard, in a very vulnerable place. He grips the table tightly, but his face is loose and haggard, like he's gone without sleep for many days. "I..." he croaks. "I have wrestled with a similar question most of my life now," he whispers. "And I have come to one dead end. One brick wall that just won't go down. That is the fact that I am only a pony, and that places certain... limitations on me." He breathes in deeply. "I don't know why being a pony makes us feel so small and yet so strong. Like we can or should find a way even when it's clear there isn't, and we're disappointed we can't just *make* a new path by wanting it. But I do know that wall is there. And maybe we're not meant to break it. Yet, anyway." His eyes look up to meet Twilight's. "And if and when that wall does come down, maybe the test wasn't really to break it. Maybe the test is to see if you will take that step beyond it... or turn away. Twilight, in the end, you are your own pony. You are the Element of Magic. *You* are why I..." He bites his lip, hard. "You're so strong. And so very, very *good.* I have faith in you. Always have, always will. But if there was an answer, I don't know that you'd need to come here and wrestle so hard with the question. You've broken the wall. You're past all the limits. Whatever you do, I can't stop you. As your friend... I will tell you that if I was out there, in that space beyond every possible shackle mortal life has put on us... *I* would... find more peace in standing still. To go further... you might find yourself further away from us, from your friends, than you realize."
And Twilight Sparkle does stand still. Her face bright violet in the candle's flicker. But she inhales deeply and is still no longer. "A similar question?" she asks. "What question? I think... I think you're scaring me, Bardigan. I don't quite understand what you mean... by going farther, and breaking walls. But I...I want you to think about this. Please." She looks around the house. "And if I could stay here for the night... I think that would be valuable to me. I would... I would really appreciate it." She moves to the candle and looks back in doubt.
Bardigan stares at Twilight very, very sharply. "I scare myself sometimes," he whispers. "There was a time, Twilight... a very, very short time in my life... when I realized I was going to lose Diamond Dancer, my sister, forever. And for those few seconds, I'd have done anything to keep her from dying. Anything at all." He takes another deep breath. "I know I don't want to lose Diamond. But a hundred thousand times more, I don't ever want to feel /that way/ again."
Bardigan stands up, his face suddenly quite normal looking again. "Anyway. You know my house is always open to you, Twilight. Whatever you need to make yourself comfortable, you're welcome to it."
Twilight swishes her tail in sympathy and walks over to Bardigan. She cuddles her face against his cheek, his neck. She closes her eyes and breathes against him. Then, after a few seconds of stillness, she returns to the table. "I could make sure you never lose her, ever," she says into the silence greater than silence. "It is possible." A pause. "But it's also possible I could find myself with only a couple of decades left, or less, before I realize what's happening." She stares into the only light there is at the tip of the scented candle. "I think I might have to do it, Bardigan. But then everything I have..." And she blows out the candle. "...could be lost."
With these words, Bardigan wakes up from his dream, alone in his bed at night.
[Twilight was played by Mare Crisium, who was played by Derpy.]