Sam
He was having the dream again, he realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He'd been having it for months now, nearly every time he fell asleep, so it only took him a couple of seconds to recognize his surroundings. Harsh, jagged mountains raking at a sky full of stars that were blurred by atmosphere. Shadowy canyons off in the distance. Great, shallow valleys. Thick dust underfoot, too fine to be called sand. Everything was in shades of gray and white, and he'd never been able to pick out another living thing. Which made sense, since there wasn't any air.
He didn't need to breathe, though. And he could tell that he was bitterly cold, but he wasn't uncomfortable.
Despite the stars and the black sky, it was almost as bright as day. Just like he always did, he looked up and found the source of the light: a planet, oceans glowing neon blue and continents a vibrant green. He could easily pick out the familiar shape of Equestria, tiny at this distance.
He wasn't stupid. It'd been obvious since the very first time he'd dreamed this that he was on the moon. Which h meant that the huge dark patch that he saw when he looked to his far left was part of the Mare in the Moon, the formation that every foal in the country could pick out on a clear night.
He turned towards it and started walking. At the beginning, he thought he'd been doing it on his own, out of curiosity. Because the Mare was gone - had vanished over three years ago. He remembered that long night pretty well, unfortunately. But as the dream kept on coming back, he figured out that something was drawing him in that direction. Pulling him towards the darkness.
He left deep horseshoe-prints in the dust (the regolith, he remembered reading somewhere, lunar soil), eve though he definitely didn't weigh as much as he was used to. Somehow, he knew exactly which path to take, between the mountains and around the canyons. He had to've been walking for hours by the time he reached his destination, the same place he ended up every time, but he wasn't tired.
It was a palace. And just like everything else on the moon appeared to be, it was harsh. The turrets were cruel and thin, razor-sharp spires of cold crystal. The Windows were just slits of blackness. The edges were so extreme they made his eyes hurt just looking at them. But he walked across the dust-covered drawbridge that had been laid across the empty most, towards the severe thing made of crystal and ice and moon rock, anyway.
He stopped just short of actually going inside. Unlike the windows, the doorway was massive. It looked like a hungry, gaping mouth, and the spikes of ice and stone that hung down from the top of it like fangs didn't help. The darkness inside was just about as impenetrable, like the door opened onto a solid black wall.
It didn't occur to him to make a light, even though that was one of the first spells he'd taught himself. Or, well, it did - he thought about doing it almost every time. He just...didn't.
Something silvery-blue, a cold light, blinkered inside the palace. He swallowed, a reflex that kicked in every single time. He shifted his hooves, almost taking a step back but not quite managing it. He was frozen in place.
The light came back, closer this time. Then it flickered out. The hair on his crest rose, and he actually felt cold for the first time. He saw the light again. This time, when it vanished, he could just barely see something in the blackness. Two flowing clouds of glittering blue, like a stabilization of the stars above. They outlined parts of what he could definitely tell was a mare. A huge mare, even taller than he was - something that didn't happen very often. He felt a deep, instinct-driven fear.
The clouds drifted towards him. They were slow, almost aimless. He couldn't run, even though he would've had plenty of time to put a whole lot of distance between himself and whatever was in the palace. When the clouds were close enough for him to feel the blood-freezing cold coming off of them, and maybe off the mare they were attached to, too, they settled to a stop, and the light came back to life. It was blinding, right in front of him.
He was allowed to move now, but only a little. He lowered his head and raised a forever to shield his eyes, squinting and grimacing. But even through the light and around his leg, he could see what was being illuminated. Silver armor. A black coat that didn't shine at all, so it looked like the darkness was being worn by the darkness itself. Razor edged wings with a blue cast. White fangs. Slit-pupiled, sea-green eyes.
The wings moved slightly, in what was almost a flap. It sent a gust of air so cold it number his face washing over him.
"Oh, Sam. We've been waiting for you for so long."
Sam
"Y'know, sometimes, I really envy you."
"Nngh?" Sam's head snapped up, and he blinked rapidly to make his fuzzy surroundings come into focus. Much to his embarrassment, he'd been drooling in his sleep, and he sucked it back into his mouth, swallowing hard. He licked his lips and turned his head. "What? Were you talking to me?"
"Oh-ho, would you look at that. You actually woke up. 'Bout time. We're about ten minutes away from this Ponyville place." Sarcastic, but amused. Some part of Sam relaxed with the realization that he wasn't actually in trouble. "And yeah. I was kinda talking to you, but it wasn't anything important."
"Mm." Sam had been laying on his stomach, head resting on his forehooves, but now he pushed himself up into a sitting position. The overhead rack just barely cleared the tip of his horn - as long as he kept his head slightly lowered. The coach cars hadn't been designed to let a unicorn his size sit like a normal pony. Few things were. "How long was I out?" he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his coronets as he yawned.
"All morning." He dropped his hooves, able to see everything clearly now. Including his brother, Dean, sitting across from him with his hind legs folded under him and his wings tucked in neatly at his sides. There was a newspaper balanced in the crooks of his pasterns, but he lowered it in order to smile smugly at Sam. "Whatsamatter? The three-and-a-half hours we got last night not good enough for you?"
Sam just snorted, shaking his head and looking away. Dean was a pegasus, but he'd inherited their mother's earth pony stamina. And, despite his size, Sam hadn't. Dean had been lording it over him since they were coals. It was familiar by now.
"Are you seriously still reading that?" he asked to change the subject, after a few seconds had passed. He nodded to the newspaper. "You must've gotten just about everything out of that article by now."
"Yeah. Well..." Dean shrugged, folding the newspaper up with deft movements of his hooves and tossing it onto the seat next to him. "It's all we got."
"Learn anything while I was sleeping?" Sam asked. Dean grimaced a little and shook his head. "Wish Appleloosa would've had a library. Maybe there would've been more information there."
"Well, I hate to break it to you, Sammy - "
"Don't call me that," Sam blurted automatically. He didn't mind the nickname so much anymore, not like he had when Dean had first picked him up. But every once in a while, when he let his guard down, the reflex came bubbling to the surface. Dean made a show of rolling his eyes.
"Well, I hate to break it to you, bitch," he began again. The pointed use of profanity drew hostile stares from all over the car, but Dean seemed oblivious. Sam hunched his withers and slid a little lower in his seat. "But even if that Celestia-forsaken little backwater had had a library, I seriously doubt they'd've had anything useful. I mean, they just barely got the news about a new freakin' princess today." He tapped the newspaper for emphasis.
Sam looked at it. Even if he hadn't already read it, his eyes would've been immediately drawn to the headline, centered high on the front page.
New Princess Crowned!
Under that, in smaller letters, was the subheading.
Annika Becomes Fourth Equestrian Princess
They were accompanied by a picture, one that'd been corrupted by being reprinted from a copy hundreds of times before reaching Appleloosa. It was blurry and the colors were washed out and mixed. Sam wasn't sure he was looking at a picture of the new princess, or even a pony, and he couldn't have said if her coat was purple, pink, or some other color entirely if his life depended on it.
The news was weeks old, maybe even months. But royal messengers and ordinary mail carriers didn't make it out to Appleloosa, where Sam and Dean had been until very recently, all that often. So that was why it had been printed in today's issue of the Appleloosa Advance.
Apparently, this Twilight had actually been to Appleloosa a while back. The article mentioned how she and some other mares had helped the townsponies settle a land dispute with the local buffalo tribe. The writer sounded vaguely annoyed that she hadn't visited the town herself to announce her ascension.
"They probably got it yesterday," Sam replied, shifting his attention from the paper back to Dean. "Jerk. That's when they would've written today's articles and set the type out."
"You're such a nerd," Dean accused. There wasn't much bite behind it, though. "And you know what I meant."
Sam yawned again. He could've used another hour or two of sleep. "I still think that this is a waste of time. This Sparkle mare isn't even the official princess of anything yet, and I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound all that threatening to me. Plus, she's had her wings for a while now, and nothing bad's happened anywhere near her."
"That we know about," Dean countered, pointing at Sam with one of his prehensile flight feathers. Sam raised an eyebrow, and he sighed and looked away, refolding his wings. "I dunno, Sam. I've just got a bad feeling about this. I mean, when's the last time we got a new princess?"
"Well, Mi Amore Cadenza was a while ago," Sam admitted, trying to think back to his high school Equestrian History class. "A couple hundred years, at least. She defeated a witch or something. And if I'm remembering right, ponies back then flipped out, too." He gave Dean a meaningful look.
"Yeah, 'cause they were all a bunch of religious freaks," Dean answered. Sam blinked; he hadn't expected him to know that. "Celestial Supremacy and all that. It wasn't 'cause they'd seen the kindsa things, or been through them, that me and you have."
"Okay." Sam lifted his hooves. "Fine. Hypothetically, let's say that there is something wrong with this new princess. She's some kind of monster, or she's possessed by something that changed her, or she's been using dark magic and that's how she ascended." Dean was looking vaguely proud of himself, and Sam guessed that he'd just listed at least some of his theories. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "But don't you think that taking down an alicorn no matter how she got to be what she is, is just a little above our paygrade?"
"Can't be too hard," Dean said with a shrug. "She's just a unicorn with wings, right?"
Sam shook his head. "I know that you know that it isn't that simple."
They were silent for a while. Sam would have laid back down and tried to get some more sleep, but he could feel the train slowing down around him. Looked like Dean hadn't been exaggerating about how close they were to Ponyville.
"Can't hurt to investigate." Dean spoke up all of a sudden. "We don't have to get too close. You're probably right - she's probably clean. But I wouldn't feel right if we just walked away from this." He smirked a little. "Plus, Ponyville's supposed to have one hay of a library for such a small town. That should keep you busy." He leaned back in his seat. "And our mare actually lives in town. So maybe they'll have some up-to-date info on her."
Sam relaxed, both at the compromise and the mention of a library. He'd missed having everything he needed to know at his hooftips when they were in Appleloosa; it'd felt to him like they were stumbling around blind. Dean coughed, and Sam focused on him again.
"Like I said, probably won't be that dangerous, but I still can't have you off your game," Dean said. "You sleep all right?"
Sam frowned. It almost felt like something had twinged in his head, somewhere deep inside, at the question, but he didn't know what. "I...yeah. I guess."
"Nightmares?" Dean guessed, straightening slightly and cocking his head.
"I..." Sam thought he had an answer to that question, one that slightly disturbed him, but it skittered away when he reached for it. Within seconds, it was gone, and he didn't feel like wracking his brain to find it. "...don't know."
"Must not've been very bad, then." Losing interest, Dean looked around the car with distaste that he either didn't try to hide or couldn't. "I ever mentioned how much I hate this train?"
"Only about a million times," Sam said dryly, huffing out a breath that didn't quite make it into a laugh. They couldn't get anywhere near the Friendship Express (Sam had to admit, he found the name a little hokey, too - even though the country that the railroads spanned had been founded on friendship) without Dean launching into enough complaints about the pastel colors and frilly decor to last a lifetime.
Fortunately for him, Dean didn't get a chance to really get into it. Sam's ears twitched as the brakes squealed distantly, and the train coasted to a complete stop. Dean twisted his head one way and then the other, cracking his neck, then shot Sam a brilliant smile as he announced, "Showtime."
Sam briefly glanced up at the ceiling, not annoyed enough to fully roll his eyes, then put his hooves on the floor and stood up, just like everypony else was doing. He lit up his horn and pulled his saddlebags, heavy with clothing and gear, down off of the overhead rack. As he buckled the strap that cinched around his barrel, Dean reared up onto his hind legs and grabbed the fabric of his duffel in his teeth. Dean didn't like saddlebags. He said they got in the way of his wings. Sam didn't understand how a duffel, which'd been designed for something with only two legs and no wings to speak of, could possibly be better than saddlebags, but he'd never brought it up. It was kinda fun to watch Dean get the bag across his back and the strap adjusted across his chest without magic.
Once they were loaded up, they joined the herd trotting off the train and onto the platform, some wearing saddlebags or carrying suitcases in their teeth and others levitating their luggage in the telekinetic fields unique to unicorns. Sam had only ever seen Ponyville from above and pretty far away, standing on a cliffside balcony in Canterlot and looking down on the southern half of Equestria, so he was excited in the routine way that he always was when they got to a new town.
Colorful. That was the first word that popped into Sam's head as they walked away from the train station and into the town proper. Sam knew that he and Dean were pretty plain when it came to coloring, especially for their species, but Ponyville hammered that point home in a way that few other places had. It wasn't just the ponies, either - even though Sam saw coats and manes in every color of the Tommy as he looked around, and a full spectrum of vibrant cutie marks that seemed too diverse for a farming community. But the buildings were painted in pastels and thatched with bright hay. The homes, at least. The business were even more interesting; he saw something in the distance that looked like a giant gingerbread house. Probably a bakery. After the wooden buildings and endless desert of Appleloosa, Sam wasn't sure if this place was refreshing or overwhelming.
"Hey." Dean nudged Sam with one of his wings. Because of his saddlebags, he didn't manage to actually touch him. "Cut the tourist crap, huh? We're not here to sight-see." He gave him an odd look as they walked down the street, its cobblestones worn flat by hundreds of hooves. "What's up with you? You didn't gawk like this when were in, like, Manehattan, and there was a lot more to see there. We've been to about a million towns like this."
"I don't think we have," Sam replied. There was something different about Ponyville, and that was why he was looking around so much. He wasn't sure if that "something" had to do with the appearance or just the feel of the place, though. He couldn't put a hoof on it.
Dean gave him another look, then shook his head, apparently deciding that it wasn't worth it. "Whatever. Listen, I'm gonna go see if I can find us a place to stay. You should try and track down the library." He pointed a wing towards one of the buildings. Only the roof was visible, because it was a couple stories taller than everything around it. "That looks like the town hall. Meet back up in front of it in an hour?"
"Sure," Sam agreed with a nod. That would give him a chance to look around the town and try to figure out what was going on. He was probably reading too much into it, though - years of doing what he did had made him paranoid every time he came across something different. Maybe the fact that everypony looked so happy here was what was throwing him off. And, really, why shouldn't they be happy? They had a brand-new princess rubbing elbows with them.
"Okay." Dean patted Sam's withers with his wing. "See you later, then. Stay safe."
He trotted off. Sam watched him go. Cream-colored coat, sandy-blonde mane and tail, olive-green duffel bag instead of saddlebags, big for a pegasus. Even a stallion. He stuck out like a sore hoof, and Sam was sure that he wasn't any better. Holding back a sigh, he resigned himself to feeling like more of a freak than usual while they were here. He didn't like small towns all that much. Not even this one.
Sam had no idea where to find the library, but he had a vague notion that it'd be near the center of town. Everypony needed to know things, right? And the library would be their main source of information, so it was important. He started at the building that Dean had thought was the town hall (given the size of it and the grandiose architecture, he was inclined to agree with him about that) and worked his way outwards, looking for anything that might be a library. Mostly, all he saw were homes. And a flower shop, and a fan shop...did a town this size really need such a specialized store?
He didn't find the library. Instead, he somehow wound up in the middle of an open-air market, and he doubted it'd be around there. Sam flicked his tail, annoyed with himself, and started trying to find a way out of the maze of stands and ponies stocking up.
"Looking for some carrots?" Sam realized he'd stopped in front of a stand while he figured out how to get around a knot of gossiping mares who'd planted themselves in the middle of the street. He glanced at the owner - a yellow earth pony with an orange mane. She smiled politely at him, then nodded down at the bunches of carrots that she had laid out in front of her. "Just picked this morning. The Boleros are at the peak of their season right now."
"Oh. Well, uh, they look great, but I'm not really buying anything right now." He faked a smile of his own, then stepped away. He'd been hoping to get out without attracting anypony else's attention. But the mare at the next stand - who must've seen him talking to the carrot pony and assumed he was a potential customer - piped, "Hay! Professionally cured. Perfect for dinner."
Sam shook his head and didn't make eye contact. He had had a lot of experience dealing with hawkers - mostly in the bigger cities, where they were a lot more aggressive. "No, thanks."
"Well, come back soon," she said with a cheery wave. The second she lost interest in him, the stallion who'd set up across from her called, "These cherries are fresh outta Dodge Junction! Want a bushel?"
"No." Sam had actually been to Dodge Junction. He had a healed bite mark on his right hock to remind him of it.
"Then how about some lemons?" yet another mare asked him as he walked briskly past her. This time, he didn't even answer.
Sam pinned his ears back and tuned out the babbling around him and the sales calls coming in from every direction. It was something he'd practiced often, and he was good at it. That was probably why he didn't hear it the first time that somepony who actually wasn't trying to sell him something attempted to get his attention.
"Um...sir?"
"Oh." Sam brought his ears back up, embarrassed, and glanced in the direction of the voice as he came to a stop. "Sorry. Were you talking to me?"
"Yes. I said you looked lost." It was a mare, and she was giving him an amused little smile. "Is there anything I can help you find?"
"Yeah, actually," Sam replied, nodding as it occurred to him that he probably should have asked for directions before now. It wasn't like there'd been any shortage of ponies willing to talk to him. "I'm looking for the library."
"Well, you're in luck!" Her smiled got bigger, and it suddenly struck Sam that he was looking at a pretty attractive mare. One with a modest, bookish sort of beauty, but it wasn't like that had ever turned him off. He could practically feel Dean jostling him with a wing and shooting him a shit-eating grin - because it'd taken him so long to notice that this girl was pretty. "I live there. I guess I'm the librarian."
"Really? Awesome." Sam returned the smile. If she was the librarian, she'd probably be able to point him in the direction of any written information Ponyville might have on Princess Annika. Hay, maybe he should interview her. She lived in town. She just might've seen Sparkle transform from a unicorn to an alicorn, and what had caused it. He hoped it was something normal to shut Dean up. "Lead the way, then." He made a little gesture with a forehoof.
She did, trotting off in front of him. She was a unicorn, too, coat a pale purple and straight, sensibly-cut mane and tail indigo with streaks of violet and pink running through them. He couldn't see her cutie mark, but the saddlebags that she was wearing were custom-made, so that wasn't a problem: the buckles were shaped like a six-pointed pink star. They were much smaller and lighter than his because unlike Sam, she was a normal size - smaller than an earth pony, bigger than a pegasus. Not much muscle tone, but she had longer legs than he was used to seeing. It made her look...elegant. That was the word he wanted.
"Are you new to Ponyville?" she asked him, glancing over her withers as he followed her out of the market. Finally. Sam answered with a self-deprecating smirk. She had purple eyes, he noticed.
"That obvious, huh?" he asked, chuckling. "Yeah. I actually just got off the train."
She nodded sympathetically, facing forward again. "The market can be a little overwhelming."
"I've seen worse," Sam replied honestly. He hadn't been overwhelmed. Just irritated.
She took him to the outskirts of the village, and he was glad he had a guide, because he certainly hadn't thought to look all the way out here. As they approached a huge tree, he wondered what it was doing here alone. And so close to the houses. Then he noticed the door set into the trunk, and the windows.
"Oh my goddess," Sam said frankly, stopping in his tracks. The mare laughed.
"Welcome to the Golden Oaks Library," she said with a smile, walking past him. He wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up in front of her.
"It's alive," Sam stated, looking up at the green leaves that covered the tree's branches. And the platforms that had been built among them - one of them had a telescope on it. "But...it's hollowed out, isn't it? Otherwise, there couldn't be a library inside." He was thinking out loud. "How is it alive?"
"Well, it's enchanted, obviously," the mare told him. "To keep the water and all the nutrients moving up from the roots - and to make it bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. There wouldn't be nearly enough room if it wasn't." She looked at the tree, too. "I wish I knew more about it. Whoever made it left ages before I moved here, and everypony else just seems to take it for granted."
"Huh," Sam said thoughtfully. He understood the frustration that came with wanting to know something and not being able to find anypony who had an answer. It cropped up literally all the time in his line of work. "So...there's more than one spell. There has to be, unless whoever laid it was a princess, and I doubt that." He walked forward and examined the ground around the tree. He'd never had much of an eye or a feel for magic, but with spells powerful enough to keep a tree this size alive and mess with its dimensions, he thought he should've been able to sense something. "Is there a matrix in the roots? If there is, there's gotta be another one in the trunk, because the magic here wouldn't be able to affect the space up there."
He heard a delighted little gasp behind him, and blinked as he straightened up and turned around. He found himself muzzle-to-muzzle with the purple mare, who was standing on the tips of her hooves and stretching her neck to make up for the difference in their heights. She was grinning so widely it was making her squint.
"Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh," she squealed, practically bouncing in place. Sam swallowed, not really sure what he'd done to make her so happy. "I haven't met somepony who knew so much about magical theory since I left Canterlot!" She hopped back, but her smile didn't get any smaller. "Ooh! Let me guess. Your special talent is ma - gic?"
She'd leaned around him to get a look at his flank, and her confusion was clear in the way she hitched in the middle of her sentence. Sam knew she'd seen his cutie mark, half-sticking out from under his saddlebags: a set of imbalanced golden scales. Definitely not anything that could indicate a talent for magic. Sam cleared his throat.
"Not exactly," he said, forcing a quick, tight smile. "I'm a..." Shit. He and Dean hadn't discussed what they were going to be for this investigation. And even if they had, all the badges and IDs and credentials were in Dean's bag. The only official-sounding title Sam could think of off the top of his head was "royal guard," like they'd been in Appleloosa. But he couldn't do that here. Why the hay would a royal guard be asking questions about a princess? "...law student," he finished lamely. "But magic's a hobby."
"Oh." The mare looked disappointed. "That's better than nothing, I guess." She brightened suddenly. "But if you're a law student - I've been reshelving a section on the Equestrian tax code. It's sointeresting, but it sure is complicated. I bet you could help me!"
Sam forced another smile and resisted the urge to tell her that, even when he really had been a law student, he hadn't been that kind.
"Anyway." The mare gave herself a little shake, then trotted up to the door and opened it with her magic. "Would you like to come inside and have a look around, Mr...?"
She trailed off, like she'd just barely realized she didn't know his name. Sam managed not to smack himself in the forehead - Celestia, he was an idiot. Meeting a cute mare and forgetting to tell her his sun-damned name.
"Sam Wingchester," he supplied. To Tartarus with it. He'd be honest this time around.
The mare smiled a little, then turned and walked into the library. "If you don't mind me saying so, that's a rather unusual name."
He'd heard that before. "My parents were old-fashioned," Sam explained as he followed her. Then, realizing that she might've been talking about his last name, too, he added, "And my dad was a pegasus."
"Oh." She turned around to face him, smiling again, then put a hoof on her chest. "Well, I'm Annika. It's nice to meet you."
Wait. What?
"I'd introduce you to my assistant, but he's over at my friend Rarity's boutique helping..."
She kept going, but Sam wasn't paying attention. She'd just magically undone the strap of her saddlebags and levitated them off, so he was staring at what they'd been covering the whole walk to the library: a pair of wings, their feathers the same shade of purple as the unicorn - alicorn's pelt.
Uh-oh.
Dean
Dean just hated small towns. Which really kinda sucked for him, since about ninety percent of the jobs that they picked up happened to be in small towns. For some reason, things that ate, killed, blended in with, and otherwise fed off of or hurt ponies seemed to gravitate towards them. It didn't make sense to him, since it seemed like it'd be easier to hide in a place where everypony didn't know each other, but then again, he wasn't some sort of creepy-crawly. So maybe he just didn't get it.
A few months ago, they'd been working a case in a suburb just outside of Baltimare, and they hadn't had any trouble finding a place to stay. There'd been a cheap motel on nearly every corner in the city. Unlike Ponyville. It seemed to have a store for almost everything (there was one that didn't sell anything but freaking quills and sofas, for Celestia's sake)...except for ponies from out of town who didn't have anywhere to sleep.
Dean had been looking for a little over fifteen minutes now, which had been enough for him to cover nearly half the town at a brisk trot. The frustration that'd been building up in him since he started looking had settled itself in the muscles of his withers and his face, and he knew he'd have a killer headache before long. Shouldn't a motel, or a hotel, any kinda place that put you up for the night, be easy to find?
Appleloosa had had one, right in the middle of town. Even Dodge Junction had had one, and it was only about a quarter the size of this place.
Maybe he should just suck it up and ask for directions. It wasn't something he liked doing, but he was starting to realize that he wasn't gonna find this place on his own, and he was getting impatient. Not that he was patient under the best circumstances, but he couldn't stand not having a place him and Sam could go back to while they were in town.
Just as he was looking around for somepony who might be able to point him in the right direction, he caught a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. Or the top, he guessed. He looked up. There was a blue pegasus mare above him, and she had the gaudiest mane and tail he'd ever seen, which was probably what had gotten his attention. Six neon-bright colors, striped like a Tommy. Her wings were practically a blur as she wheeled above him, and as Dean watched, she transferred all the power she must've built up doing that into a nearby patch of clouds with a well-aimed kick. They immediately dissolved into the sky.
A weatherpony. She probably spent all day up there, seeing the entire town from a bird's-eye view. If this stupid little village even had a motel, she'd be most likely to know where it was.
"Hey," Dean called out, taking a few steps forward and keeping his eyes on the mare as she swung into a tight turn. She must spend a lot of time practicing; he fell just shy of that kind of precision in the air, and he'd spent years with his dad drilling him in combat flight. "Ma'am? Hey, you up there, with the - hey!"
She'd sped off, so fast she almost left a multicolored trail in her wake. She hadn't looked down at him, hadn't even acted like she'd heard him. Maybe she hadn't, even though he'd been talking pretty loud. It'd be just his luck to find the only deaf weatherpony in Equestria.
He wasn't just gonna give up on her, though. She could be his only chance to find someplace to sleep tonight. So he headed after her, down the street, still trying to get her attention.
"Hey - lady! Celestia, slow down, would you? I'm tryin' to talk to you!"
At first, a trot was enough for him to keep up with her. Then he had to move up to a canter, as she started beating her wings harder and going faster. Soon, he was flat-out galloping, nostrils flaring and duffel bag bouncing on his back. The heavy equipment inside smacked painfully into his wings every time it came down.
"Buck this," Dean muttered under his breath, before practically screeching to a stop on the cobblestones in front of what looked like an outdoor cafe. He grabbed the strap of his bag with his teeth, swung it aggressively off of himself, and dumped it on the ground in front of a table that had two mares sitting at it. He barely even registered them - a mint-green unicorn and an earth pony whose coat was almost the same shade of off-white as his - before he snapped, "Watch this for me, okay?"
"Um - o-okay - "
As he turned and galloped a few yards down the street, it occurred to him that, maybe, he should've told them not to open it up. But he doubted they would. And if they did...well, then he'd have to grab his bag as soon as he could, and then he and Sam would need to skip town without investigating the new princess. At least Sam would be happy about that.
Before anything else, though, Dean had to catch this damn weathermare and make her tell him where he could find a motel. Once he was going fast enough, he snapped open his wings and jumped. One powerful flap took him into the air, his leading primary feathers just barely missing the dusty cobblestones of the street. With a couple more flaps, he was up above most of the buildings, and rocketing after the mare with that goddess-awful Tommy hair.
Sam had explained pegasus flight to him, once. Apparently, he'd taken a Comparative Magics class at that fancy college of his, which had taught him all about the different powers of the three tribes. Dean didn't really get why he'd been so interested - Sammy was a unicorn, and everypony knew that their magic was the only kind that mattered.
Anyway, the way he'd laid it out for Dean, pegasi had a passive kind of magic that was concentrated in their wings and legs. It let them fly, since their wings weren't technically big enough for that on their own, even with their hollow bones (Dean had snorted when Sam'd told him that, remembering how much of a pain it'd been to adjust to a pair of newly giant-ass wings after puberty; they'd felt plenty big enough). It made them weigh less in the air. It let them walk on clouds. It let them make weather. With training, that magic could get a lot stronger, just like the flight muscles you were working. It made flying easier, and could even be used for fighting with the wings and hooves. According to Sam, that'd been Dad's aim when he'd had him fly in a specific pattern for hours at a time. Building up his special pegasus magic so he could use it for the job.
Dean didn't really tend to think about any of that when he was actually airborne. He had two counts against him (he'd had an earth pony mother and he was a hay of a lot bigger than most other pegasus stallions), so most of his attention went to moving his wings, steering, and keeping all the separate parts of him where they should be. Head in line with the rest of his body, ears pinned back, forelegs tucked up against his chest, hind legs spread out behind him with his tail to make a rudder. And if there was any focus left over after that during this particular flight, all of it was fixed firmly on the mare that he was after at the moment.
She was fast - "might-be-able-to-hold-her-own-against-the-Wonderbolts" fast. And she was a lot more agile than him, too. But Dean didn't lose sight of her as she zipped around the roofs of the town's buildings and broke up the scattered patches of clouds hanging low in the sky by blitzing through them. He even managed to stay just a few wingspans behind her the whole time. Which meant he had a near-perfect view of her plot - which was pretty nice, behind that loud tail. Tight and toned. She must kick a lot of clouds.
"Hey!" Dean called out to her, figuring that now was as good a time as any to try and get her attention again. He was definitely close enough for her to hear him. Unless she really was deaf, in which case he was gonna have to get close enough to touch her.
She wasn't deaf, though. She proved that beyond a doubt when one of her ears twitched at his shout, and she twisted her head to smirk at him over one wing. He saw every muscle in her body tense under her sky-blue coat, then she spontaneously pulled ahead. He could practically feel the power humming off her wings, even all the way back here.
For the first time since he'd taken off, Dean thought about the stuff he'd learned from Sam. Or, more accurately, the stuff Sam had tried to teach him. He wished he'd paid more attention now, because if he did have some kind of latent magic in his wings, he was gonna need to tap into it to keep up with this mare.
It wasn't even about asking her for directions anymore. It was just about catching her. She couldn't have any idea what he wanted, and she'd decided to try and outrun him anyway. And even if she somehow did know, no way did he deserve this - what a bitch. He hadn't known he could want something this badly when the lives of the ponies he cared about weren't on the line.
He must've done something right, because he didn't lose her. Dean followed the mare over what looked like some kind of farmer's market, around the town hall, and through a short stretch of well-tended forest that might've been a park. As they blew past a cutesy little cottage with flowers and grass growing on its roof, Dean silently thanked whoever was listening that she hadn't tried to go any higher than she was flying right now. Then he immediately killed that train of thought. That really wasn't helpful.
Dean was in better shape than he'd thought. He'd honestly expected her to start outstripping him in fifteen or twenty minutes as he lagged behind, but he didn't start so much as breathing hard or breaking a sweat until they reached the acres of farmland that made up the far end of town.
A few of the fields that patchworked the rolling hills were empty, but most were filled with healthy-looking, full-grown apple trees. Dean hadn't eaten since this morning - burned oats and greasy hay that even he'd had trouble choking down. And he wasn't all that into eating fruit that hadn't been baked in a pie, but the red and green and yellow apples hanging on the branches below him were making it hard to focus on the mare he was after and not how hungry he was starting to feel.
Thinking about food, it was no wonder he blew right past that mare when she suddenly pulled up and stopped in midair. With how fast she'd been going, Dean couldn't believe she hadn't popped at least one of her wings out of its socket, doing that. He himself had to beat his wings pretty hard and make a wide, deep turn to burn off his speed and get back to her.
"Just what the hay is your problem, huh?" Dean demanded as soon as he was sure that he was within earshot. "I just wanted to talk to you. There a good reason you led me all the way out here?"
The mare just smirked at him for a few seconds, and Dean had to take a couple of deep breaths to keep himself from planting a forehoof in her face. He didn't hit girls. Not equine girls, anyway.
"You didn't have to come after me, y'know," she pointed out. Her forelegs were crossed over her chest and she was hovering in place, bobbing up and down with every flap. Dean did his best to copy her; hovering had never been his strong suit. "I have to say, though. You're pretty fast for such a big colt. I didn't expect you to keep up with me like you did."
"Yeah, thanks," Dean said sarcastically. "'Cause, y'know, racing total strangers for literally no reason is a real passion of mine."
Now she finally looked a little guilty. About bucking time.
"Sorry," she said. Not that it sounded sincere - and Dean could tell when somepony was lying, since he did it all the time himself. "Look. I think we might've gotten off on the wrong hoof." She held out a forehoof. "I'm Tommy."
Now there was an appropriate name. Grudgingly, Dean touched a hoof to hers, and noticed she was wearing shoes, which was unusual for a pegasus. Hers were a lot lighter than his heavy iron ones, though. She must fly more than she walked. "Dean Wingchester." The idea of giving her a fake name didn't even cross his mind.
"Hah! That's sure a weird name." Before he could reply, Tommy cocked her head and changed the subject. "So...what was it that you wanted to talk to me about so badly you were willing to chase me all the way to Sweet Apple Acres?"
That must be the name of the apple farm underneath them. Cute. "I just wanted to ask you if this one-horse town's got a motel. Couldn't find one anywhere."
"Ohhh. Well, why didn't you just say so?" Dean just gave her a smile so tight it actually hurt, teeth grinding inside his mouth. Maybe all the colors in her eyesore of a mane weren't natural. Maybe the dye had given her brain damage. "Yeah, there's one over by Sugarcube Corner. The Trot On Inn." She rolled her eyes at the name. "Not surprised you didn't spot it - it kinda just looks like a house, and it's small. We don't really get a lotta tourists."
"Thanks," Dean said, before turning to fly back to town. Tommy stopped him, though.
"Wait." Dean was just about ready to be done with this mare, and he hoped that that came across in the look he gave her. Wouldn't surprise him if it went right over her head, though. "Um...how come you don't just grab a cloud for the night? I'm sure I didn't bust all of 'em up."
"Can't. My brother's a unicorn," Dean replied. He'd expected a blank stare and Tommy asking him what that had to do with anything, but to his surprise, she nodded. Like she understood.
"And you don't wanna leave him alone on the ground," she guessed. "Yeah, I get that. I have a little - well, she's not really a sister, exactly, but it's close. And she can't fly yet, so I'm kinda in the same boat when we hang out."
Dean hesitated, then turned back around to face her. Maybe he could get some information on that new princess out of Tommy if he built up a rapport first.
"So, d'you...carry her?" he asked, making a gesture with his hooves that he hoped illustrated what he'd just said. "Up to clouds and stuff, I mean."
"Yeah," Tommy replied, nodding. "Sometimes."
"I used to carry Sam when I flew," Dean said, and held back a hard swallow when a sudden raw, visceral memory of that time hit him. He did his best to brush it away. "My brother. Then he hit his growth spurt, though, and he got way too big for that."
They just hovered for a second, staring at each other. Then Tommy cleared her throat and rubbed at the back of her neck with one forehoof.
"Is that real leather?" she asked with a wrinkled muzzle, pointing to the jacket he was wearing over his T-shirt and flannel button down.
Dean surprised himself by grinning. In the wide, sly way he only used when he was interested in somepony, which...yeah, he guessed it wasn't that big of a shock. Sure, Tommy didn't come across as the smartest mare he'd ever met, or the most polite, but he wasn't exactly a genius or a gentlecolt himself. And she was hot, and it'd been too damn long since his last roll in the hay.
When he could move an investigation along and score some nice flank at the same time, it was always a bonus.
"D'you really think I'm the kinda guy who'd wear leather?" Dean asked, spreading his forelegs. "Some of my best friends are cows. It's not real." It was, actually - it just hadn't come from anything with hooves. But ponies tended to get a little squicked out even by that when he told them. Especially in small towns. So he kept that to himself, usually.
"Well, I've only been talking to you for about five minutes now," Tommy pointed out. "So I don't really, like, know you, I'd say."
"Maybe we should fix that." Dean's wings were getting tired, just hovering in place. So he wasn't exactly at the top of his game. It wouldn't come as a surprise to him if Tommy blew him off, unimpressed.
Besides. She was athletic, obviously, and didn't have any makeup on or much of a manestyle to speak of. And Celestia knew Dean was terrible at telling which way ponies swung. Maybe Tommy wasn't even into stallions.
Her reaction caught him off-guard. She returned his smirk and blew a lock of orange hair out of her face, leaning back in the air and crossing one leg over the other, like she was sprawled in a chair. Somehow, she pulled it off without making it look awkward. She also spread her wings a little wider - as much as she could while she was using them. Dean wasn't sure if it was conscious or not, but he knew that that was a display of interest.
"Maybe we should," she agreed. Dean grinned.
He had a feeling he might end up liking this town after all.