and i had a feeling that i belonged

The first months, I truly think she had no idea what to make of me, let alone what to do about me. Honestly, I don’t think she even knew what to do with herself, whether she should stay close when I visited or leave me to my own devices, saving herself the anxiety of remembering how to have a conversation like a normal person. 

I’ve been here six hours, I wrote in my journal, delighted to be using the princess’ old-fashioned but elegant quills, and I’ve only spoken with the princess about ten minutes. I’ve no clue what she’s doing, but last I saw her, she was downstairs pacing inside the maze again. She didn’t seem particularly bothered when one of the bookcases slammed down on her. Very proud of myself for not screaming this time. 

“What are you writing?” 

I’m certain the entirety of Equestria must have heard my shriek when she appeared behind me unprompted. 

“Princess,” I said, not hissed, even though I wanted to, “please, I beg you, you must stop that.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Stop what? Talking to you?” she asked, stiff. 

“…No.” I deserved a medal for how not annoyed I sounded. I put the quill down. “Talking is perfectly fine, Princess. I meant the part where you scare me to an early grave by popping out of nowhere.” 

Stars, would that I could attach a little bell to her shirt-collar. 

“I didn’t come out of nowhere,” she said. “I’ve been standing here for a while.” 

I twisted my torso slightly to look at her better, my arm resting on the chair’s backrest. 

“You have?” I asked, surprised, and then just a bit upset. “Were you reading over my shoulder?” 

“No, that would be rude,” she replied. “I was just watching you.” 

“Ah! Because that isn’t rude,” I said, and I’ll admit I smiled at the slightest hint of mortification in her eyes. 

“You were busy reading before,” she said, frosty, “and then you did some illustrations on your parchment binder, and then you started writing, so I thought I should wait.” 

I blinked. “Reading? But that was over an—Princess Twilight, have you just been standing here for an hour?”

“Yes.”

“I see!” I turned around, grabbed the quill, and wrote with a flourish: Next visit, bring Reading The Room: A Guide On Social Etiquette.

“In any case.” I turned back to her. “It’s my private journal! If it were anything else, I’d offer it as a read, but a lady must have some secrets to herself, you know?” 

“Oh,” she said, and then nothing else as she stood there looking at me for about half a minute, which was just about how long I could stand the awkwardness before I had to intervene. 

“On the subject of talking…” I gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the table. “Why not sit with me a while? Surely a reprieve from pacing isn’t too out of the question.” 

Her eyes darted to the chair. Then back to me. 

“…I can’t sit on a chair.” She raised her translucent hand at me. “Did you somehow forget?” 

I smiled politely. 

“…No, I did not, Princess. It was just a figure of speech. But!” A scrapping noise filled the air and startled her as I pushed my chair back and stood up, Princess Twilight taking several steps back. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be rude.” 

I grabbed a chair cushio and marched past the tables, straight towards an empty spot a little ways away. Once there, I tossed the cushion on the floor, sat down on it, and finally regaled the princess with a smile.

“There!” I said, brightly. “Will you join me?” 

She did not budge. “To talk?” she asked. “You want to talk with me?” 

She said this with such sincere confusion, my heart constricted in my chest. 

“Yes, I would. I would like that very much.” I smiled at her, like I so often did, hoping one day she’d reciprocate. A girl could dream. “I barely saw you today.” I hesitated, then continued, “I felt a little lonely. I missed you.” 

“You missed me?” The confusion turned to frost, her posture straightening ever so slightly. “No, you didn’t. You barely know me. You don’t know me.” I felt my lips purse, and immediately she adjusted her tone to the closest she could get to apologetic. “Talking isn’t something I do a lot.” 

“Well… We all start somewhere, don’t we? Now, come, come, Princess.” I patted the floor before me, regaling her with my pearly whites. “Sit right here.” 

To my dying day, I will remember her look of bewilderment as she obeyed my request, walking over and plopping herself down, staring at me with frowning, thoughtful eyes. 

“What do you want to talk about?”

I leaned back, placing my palms on either side of me on the floor. “What’s something silly you wish you could complain about?” 

She frowned. “I… What do you mean?” 

“Precisely what I asked. What’s something that you wish you could complain about, but you don’t because it’s silly.” 

She was quiet a moment, and then said, “Why the word ‘next’ is frustrating.” 

“…Why the word ‘next’ is frustrating?” I leaned in immediately. “Explain.” 

“What day is today?” 

“Tuesday.” 

She nodded. “Tuesday. So.” She sat up straighter, and when she cleared her throat, I couldn’t help a smile. “If I say, ‘you should come next Friday’, when should you come?” 

“…Next Friday,” I said, slowly, unsure of what exactly I was missing. 

“Yes, but when is that? Be specific.” 

I licked my lips. “…I would come on Friday next week?” I ventured, and then almost felt myself gasp when she actually nearly smiled. 

“Oh?” She crossed her arms, smug. “ But, by ‘next Friday’, I meant this week’s Friday.”

“What? But, that’s wrong. Isn’t it?” I crossed my arms like her, deep in thought.” Next Friday is next week’s Friday. If you meant the upcoming one, then you’d say ‘this Friday’.” 

Before my very eyes, the princess transformed. 

“Yes! That’s what you’d think!” she exclaimed, the emotion bursting from her voice so unfamiliar I was taken aback. “And yet.” A snap of her fingers, and six books levitated next to us. “These books use it to refer to an event happening this week! But then—” Another snap, and seven other books floated on the other side. “These use it to refer to something happening this week. And three of these were written by Starswirl the Bearded!” 

“…An important academic,” I said, like I knew who this fellow was.

“The most important academic. So he must be right. But what if he isn’t? And there isn’t a single syntax book in my library that clarifies on this issue” She breathed out. “ It’s very annoying.” 

I giggled. “And very silly.” 

“Well, you asked,” she pointed out. 

“I did! Thank you for answering, Princess.” 

“…You’re welcome.” 

We sat there in comfortable silence—or, well, comfortable on my part, at the very least—when she surprised me by speaking. 

“What about you?”

“Me?” I blinked. “What about me?”

“…What’s a silly thing you’re annoyed by?”

“Oh. Oh!” I sat up straight, delighted. She was asking me? Well! “Oh, well, that’s easy .” Once again, I placed my palms on the floor on either side of me and leaned back. “Nothing that annoys me is silly.”

“What?”

I nodded, serious. “Mmm. Everything that annoys me is very serious. No silliness here, princess.”

“Right.” She hummed. “Well. I just thought of another thing that is silly and a little annoying.”

“Oh? Do tell!” I waited excitedly for one, two, three seconds, until the princess tilted her head and kept her eyes on me. “…Wait. Me?! Princess Twilight!”

“What?” she asked, and I swear she smiled. “You asked, Rarity.”