//------------------------------// // 39) Month 4 - Buttergrass (Part 1) // Story: Climbing the Mountain 2 // by Talon and Thorn //------------------------------// Duke Greengrass was in his office, at his estate, when Tirek came to visit. He looked up from the book he had been reading and glanced at his guest, as the centaur - part pony, part minotaur - struggled to sit on the seat opposite. “You know,” said Greengrass marking his page and putting down the book, “there are far too many ponies who think I work for you.” “Work for me?” said the figure opposite in a muffled voice. “Aren't I supposed to be learning from you? You did say you could help me.” “Yes, but I guess having the Prince of Darkness, Trader of Souls, as my pupil would certainly have some effect on my reputation. But not necessarily the sort of reputation I’m hoping to get right now. I am supposed to have turned over a new leaf, you know.” “Prince of Darkness?” asked the centaur. “Oh, the costume! It is quite good, isn’t it,” said Mounty Max shaking his head which caused the limp arms attached to his shoulders to thrash around. Greengrass couldn’t help but smile at the less than imposing sight. “Will you be spending the holiday with Duchess Posey? She’s dressed as a Flutterpony I take it?” “How did you know?” asked Max. “Just a lucky guess.” Themed costumes seemed the sort of thing they would do. Really, their relationship was one of the worst kept secrets at court. It’s exact details were somewhat opaque, but the fact they were romantically linked, there were nobles who hadn’t come to court in decades who knew about it. The only reason nopony had challenged them was that they were such a good a source of juicy gossip, most of it Greengrass was sure was completely facetious. There was no way they had already gotten secretly married, or that the Duchess was carrying Max’s foal, for no other reason than Max being completely unable to keep something like that secret. “Anyway, if an agent of Tirek was working at court, I would think you would be the least likely suspect I could think of. I guess it’s true about the forces of evil being in the last place you would expect.” After all, nopony but him had suspected Dawn Chorus being in league with Corona. “Thanks,” said Max giving a smile as he reached up a hoof to scratch at one of the horns stuck to his head. “So what exactly is it that brings you to my door on a night such as this? I’d have thought you’d be helping out at an orphanage or something, telling the foals spooky stories.” “Actually since I found out that the Princess turns the castle into a fun house at this time of year, I thought I’d help out. Have some fun with the foals.” “Of course you are,” said Greengrass with a sigh. He had meant the orphan thing as a joke but it would be just like Max to spend the night doing something pointless like that. Normally, Nightmare Night was one of the duke's favourite times of the year, a day for dressing up and playing tricks. What wasn’t to love? But this year he just wasn’t getting into it. Part of it was the injuries he’d suffered at the hooves of the Corona cultists last month. The worst had healed - he’d had his cast removed yesterday - but he still had aches and pains. More importantly, his political situation was rock bottom. The Princess hadn’t dismissed him from court, but maybe it would have been better if she had. He still had his seat, but that was it. He’d given up all his committees and nopony wanted to risk the princess’s wrath by associating with him, well apart from Max. It was rather surprising that the baron had apparently taken up Greengrass’s offer of mentorship, or at least he’d come to talk to him a few times, despite the possible damage it was doing to Max’s own reputation. An even more damaging blow than Greengrass’s loss of political standing was the resignation of his assistant Notary. He’d not seen her since the Solartic factory. His few remaining agents had reported her presence in Ponyville for a few days, but since then nothing. “Greengrass?” called Max, leaning forwards and almost overbalancing in his costume. “Sorry, I was miles away,” said Greengrass while shaking himself. There was no point crying over things he couldn’t do anything about. “What was it you wanted?” “I said, I wanted to ask you a favour.” “Really, baron?” said Greengrass raising an eyebrow and leaning forwards over the table. This might actually been interesting, maybe something to pull him out of his current funk. “It’s not really for me, not exactly. There’s this mare, you see. Maybe you could take her out for a day and show her a good time?” Greengrass’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Just who had Max been listening to? “I’m not exactly a gigolo baron,” he spluttered. It wasn’t like he was completely ignorant of the opposite sex but his position tended to mean he attracted suitors with one aim in mind. Not to say he didn’t enjoy stringing along the gold diggers but he tended to break things off before they got too serious, or possibly litigious. Given the recent downturn in his fortunes, even that suply of companions had dried up. “Are you sure you’re not mixing me up with Blueblood or the ex-baroness Digger?” “No, it’s not that way. Not at all!” protested Max just as strongly. Greengrass suddenly felt a little slighted, because he wasn’t totally unattractive. “It’s about Buttercup you see. Buttercup Fields.” “Baroness Fields?” Greengrass quickly reviewed what he knew about the Baroness. It wasn’t all that much really. She wasn’t a major player at court, but she’d stepped into her father's shoes quite smoothly. A hard worker. She was Duchess Posey’s protege, which gave her more clout that her lowly rank might suggest, but she hadn’t really done anything to make a name for herself. A wasted opportunity. She tended to vote for the benefit of the common pony, without even considering how to leverage that vote for her own constituents. “I think she might be pushing herself too hard. I found her passed out in her rooms a few weeks back, exhausted. She said she’d take it easy, but I don’t think she really listened to me.” Max’s face was a picture of worry. Greengrass wondered if there might be something to the rumours that the pair of them had been romantically linked in the past. Max certainly didn’t seem to be the type to intentionally have two mares going at once, but maybe he had hidden shallows, and despite her dullness, Buttercup was a beautiful filly, and about half the duchess’s age. “If she doesn’t listen to you, I doubt I will have much luck. I’ve hardly talked to her before and what does this have to do with ‘showing her a good time?’” “Well, you tricked me into voting the wrong way, so can’t you trick her into taking a day off?” “Trick her into taking a day off?” asked Greengrass in surprise. It seemed a bizarre idea, but certainly a challenge. “Yes! The court’s suspended today for the holiday. I hoped she’d take it easy, maybe go to a party or something, but she’s been talking with other courtiers for half the day about next week's votes. It’s admirable, but I think she’s pushing herself too hard. She runs her whole province almost single hoofed. She doesn’t even have an assistant you know!” Greengrass hadn’t known, but it was interesting. For a moment, he considered what might happen if Buttercup were to have to withdraw from the court because of her health. She didn’t have any further family members that he was aware of to take over her role, leaving her province and seat at court open, but there was no chance that he would be able to influence the choice of her replacement. Others at court might jockey for position, but again that was unlikely to benefit him as things currently stood. Really there was nothing in it for him, but he did sort of owe Max a favour or two and if he could repay him in such a harmless way... maybe even make Max think he owed him, that might be worth something in the future. Plus, he had to admit, he didn’t have anything else to do and it might even be exciting, not quite the rush of altering the fate of Equestria, but a little harmless test of his abilities. Even if Buttercup complained or something, he could say he was doing it for her own good, and that Max had told him to. “Very well,” he said, after a moment, “I’ll see what I can do.” “Thanks!” exclaimed Max getting up from his seat and almost overbalancing thanks to his costume. “Um, could you not tell Fragrant?” Greengrass tried not to smile. “Does your mentor not approve?” “She, um, she doesn’t think it’s a problem.” “Don’t worry, Max. You can trust me to keep quiet. I’ll make sure that Baroness Fields has the most relaxing day possible. You have my word on it.” “Oh, I guess that’s alright then. I better be going, I don’t want to be late for the foals tonight,” said Max turning towards the door. “Thanks for this.” Greengrass nodded already deep in thought about what exactly to do about Baroness Fields. “Ah, Baroness Fields, I’m glad I managed to catch you,” said Greengrass as Buttercup galloped past. She looked around wildly and skidded to a halt. “Duke Greengrass?” she asked in surprise. Now that Greengrass actually paid attention to Buttercup, he had to agree with Max. She certainly didn’t look at her best. She was thin - even beyond current fashion - almost emaciated. There were bags under her eyes despite him knowing she’d had a full day's sleep, and her mane was uncombed. That last one was his fault really. “Did you want me for something? I’m sorry, but I overslept. I’m in a hurry to get to court.” “Overslept? That’s too bad. However, if you beg my pardon, it does look like you could use it.” He struggled to keep a look of concern on his face, instead of the pleasure he felt on what he had managed to organise given the short time he’d had. His basic plan had been to arrange for a mix up in a work order so that a banner was hung over her window providing shade against the sun to make it seem earlier than it truly was. Given Buttercup had no servants that he knew of, there would be no one else to wake her. The real lucky streak has been that while he was arranging for it all to be set up, her clock winder had turned up. Mechanical clocks were such delicate things that many ponies hired specialists, usually unicorns, to wind them every few days. A few words and a few bits and Greengrass had gotten the one Buttercup was using to change her schedule a bit so that her mistress’s clocks would run down over the night, resulting in the aforementioned oversleeping incident. A little self consciously Buttercup patted at her disheveled mane. “Is there something you wanted? I am in rather a hurry to get to my office, I have a lot of work to do.” Greengrass raised an eyebrow. It appeared Max was right about Buttercup overworking herself. Court duties were traditionally minimal the day and night after Nightmare Night, and the day after was Saturday. Most of the court took the time to have a three day weekend. “It was actually your office that I wanted to talk to you about. I was sent to inform you that that part of the castle would be out of bounds for the rest of the day.” “Out of bounds? Why?” she demanded. “I am afraid that there was a bit of an accident at the Nightmare Night party last night.” “An accident? What kind of accident? Was anypony hurt?” “Not permanently. A group of foals managed to get out of the section of the castle laid out for them. Somehow, they got into some of the offices and decided to gorge themselves on the goodies they’d collected.” Greengrass gave an imitation of vomiting. “They left rather a mess around the place, I’m afraid. Nothing that can’t be fixed, but between that and generally tidying up, the cleaning staff will be busy all day.” “But there are documents I need from my office! And I’m sure there are votes to prepare for.” “Actually there is nothing of consequence today, there rarely is after Nightmare Night. The princess likes to spend the day recovering from her own indulgences,” said Greengrass with a smile. Buttercup narrowed her eyes. “Why should I trust you, Duke? You do not have a reputation for truthfulness.” “What reason would I have to lie to you? I don’t mean to be insulting, but you aren't exactly in my league, are you, baroness? How would I benefit from keeping you away from your office for a day?” Greengrass sighed, somewhat theatrically. “If you really think I’m lying then you can trot off to the castle and waste a bit more time.” It hadn’t exactly been hard getting some of the foals past the guards last night and into Buttercups office, leaving them with bags of treats almost as large as them had meant that foalish nature would take its course. It had actually been rather fun, and in the spirit of the season, so to say. Buttercup seemed to weigh the situation for a moment. “Very well,” she said eventually, “If I can’t use my office, then I have other duties to attend to.” She turned to go. “Anything I can help with?” he asked. “No,” she said rather sharply. “One of my committee’s relates to farming subsidies in the south. My fath— I mean I’ve meant to visit the area for a long time now. This will give me the time I need. Good day, duke.” She finished politely. “Good day, my lady,” said Greengrass with a bow. He ducked around a corner and waited for Buttercup to return to her house before pulling a train timetable from a pocket and running a hoof over it, biting his tongue in concentration. He’d have to hurry to carry out the next part of his plan. “Lady Fields, I did not expect to see you again so soon,” said Greengrass as he approached the mare’s seat in the train. Buttercup blinked her eyes open and yawned before looked up at him suspiciously. It appeared she had been at least half asleep. She must have been even more tired than she’d seemed. “I told you I was heading south. Are you following me?” “It appears that you have gotten turned around somewhere. This train is heading east.” “The east!” Buttercup hopped up from her seat and stared out the window at the scenery zipping past. “But the porter at the station assured me this was the correct train!” Greengrass shrugged as he sat down in one of the many empty seats nearby. The first class section of the train wasn’t heavily populated. “It appears that she made a mistake.” In fact, a few bits paid out to some of the train staff and a faint hint of a 'surprise birthday party' had been all it took to get them to keep an eye out for the baroness and direct her to this train. It looked like things were going to plan so far. Now, he could only hope that his telegraph message had gotten through to the correct individual. “I need to inform the conductor, maybe we can—” said Buttercup sounding quite panicked. “We left Canterlot over half an hour ago now. I doubt they will stop the train just for you, and if they did, wouldn’t that be an abuse of your power?” He raised an eyebrow as Buttercup frowned. “You will just have to get off at the next stop, which is...” Greengrass unfolded a map. “Appleton upon Rye, apparently. I’m afraid that’s about a two hour trip, maybe longer. This is an express, with no stops until then,” he explained. “Appleton! But I need to go south!” “I’m sorry, I suppose your business will have to wait.” Buttercup turned to the Duke with her ears flattened and her tail flailing. Greengrass had to admit that the younger mare looked rather formidable when she was angry. “And it’s just coincidence that you happen to be on this train, after we bumped into each other earlier?” Greengrass shrugged. “Such things do happen, I have business in Appleton relating to my garden, and the town is well known for its agriculture.” Buttercup glared at him for a long moment before seeming to rein in her annoyance. Taking a deep breath, she dropped back onto the seat behind her with a more placid expression settling on her face. “My apologies, duke. You are right. My father used to import flowers from there.” “He was a fellow connoisseur of the botanical. I’ve never visited myself, but I’ve heard your estate's grounds back in Houyhnhnm are quite spectacular.” “Yes,” agreed Buttercup her eyes defocusing a little. “I didn’t get much time to see them over the summer,” she looked down, “I was busy, because there was so much to arrange.” “It’s a shame your gardens in Canterlot aren't that large.” Buttercup’s eyes flashed for a moment. “You of all stallions should know that size isn’t everything, Duke.” Greengrass couldn’t help but smile at that. There was certainly something more beneath the facade of the seemingly demure mare, although it did seem a bit of an overreaction to him. “Touche, Baroness. Your father did manage to keep a quite impressive display despite the lack of space. It’s seemed somewhat lacking this year though.” “I, I havn’t had the time to keep things up,” she admitted, “I should do something but there are so many other calls on my time.” “Of course. I can give you the details of a number of excellent gardeners if you wish.” “No it’s my responsibility,” she stated, “I’ll arrange something myself.” “I would understand if gardens aren't exactly your thing, although your mark might suggest otherwise. Still Buttercups are poisonous aren't they?” He gestured at her flank and the flower mark there. She shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “Not all marks are literal you know. What is yours for again?” “You know, I never really figured it out,” he said with a smile. “Marking reports, I think.” Buttercup raised an eyebrow. “You should consider my offer. Just because your father chose to keep the garden himself doesn’t mean you need to. I should know. I’m hardly cast in my father's mold after all.” “No, Greenmeadow was always known for his work ethic and selflessness. I always liked him.” Greengrass scowled. “It’s strange how many ponies did. Your father, well, he was always a rather nice old chap, a bit, distracted, but I guess age will do that to a pony.” Although he had expected the barb to provoke a response he was surprised at the hateful look that crossed Buttercups face. “My father was one of the greatest nobles in the court. He gave almost his whole life for the betterment of Equestria! He worked hard for years without rest, and raised me while almost single hoofedly while carrying out his duties as well! He was not ‘distracted’!” “I’m, I’m, sorry,” spluttered Greengrass rather taken aback. “I don’t think we need to talk any further, Duke,” said Buttercup turning to the window. “We should be in Appleton in an hour or so and there I’m sure our paths will split.” Greengrass looked over at his travelling companion. After quite a long icy silence between them Buttercup had finally fallen asleep again, slumped against the window. Her relaxed features made her look even younger than she actually was. He was one of the younger courtiers but she was a few years below him, maybe the youngest there was. Really, it was unusual that she had carried on in her father's hoofsteps so quickly. It would have been more usual for an older relative or family friend to step into the role as a regent for a few years before Buttercup would take up her position. Still, he couldn’t argue about that, because his father had suggested the same for him and he’d insisted he take up his role straight away. In a way, there was quite a bit in common between them. Similar ages, earth ponies, both had positions at court, they’d followed in their father’s hoofsteps. Of course there were differences as well. She would probably be described as a model courtier, so she’d probably spend her life championing good causes and ending up with nothing to show for it. Whereas he had somewhat grander plans. Had, had grander plans anyways; at the moment things didn’t seem quite so bright for him given Luna’s current attitude whereas Buttercup was Duchess Posey’s protege and might be on a fast track to success. Somepony would probably say there was some sort of moral in there, maybe involving hares and tortoises. He shook himself, now wasn’t the time to get maudlin, he had a job to do. Looking out the window. he noticed the train was starting to slow, so the station mustn't be much further. Hopefully, his message had gotten through and the next stage of his plan would be in place. If not, he could improvise. If nothing else, it would be several hours before Buttercup could get back to work, because the next train back to Canterlot wasn’t for over an hour. He reached over to Buttercup and gently shook her. “Just... another few minutes... dad,” she mumbled before her eyes opened blearily. “We’re almost at Appleton,” said Greengrass. “I thought you’d want to get off here, unless you’d rather sleep?” “No, thank you,” she said before giving a rather adorable yawn and blinking back to full wakefulness. Seeming to remember their earlier conversation, she glared at him but with rather less intensity than before. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. How about I buy you an early lunch when we stop?” “Are you trying to delay me again?” she asked suspiciously. “Not everything I do is part of some master plan you know.” Although in this case, she was right. “It’s a few hours before there are any trains back to Canterlot, so you’ll need to do something to fill the time.” “I, well, very well, Duke. I am rather hungry, in my hurry I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. I accept your offer.” “Good!” said Greengrass with a smile as the train came to a stop. “If I remember correctly, there’s a rather nice cafe near the station. It does a rather good plowpony’s lunch.” The cafe was just where Greengrass remembered it. Despite the growing shortness of the days, the local weather team had prepared a rather warm afternoon and the two nobles took the opportunity to sit outside. Greengrass leant back in his seat and glanced at the various ponies as they passed completely unaware of the nobility in their midst. He cut a thick slice of some local cheese and placed it on a thick slice of bread before adding a dollop of chutney and taking a big bite. He was glad that despite the town’s name the local cuisine wasn’t entirely apple based. He’d never been all that fond of that particular fruit. He glanced over at Buttercup who was chewing on a pickle intently. “You better not let the press catch you like that,” he said jovially. “There would be all sorts of gossip about you being with foal, and who the sire might be!” “I’m sure you eating dinner with me would be considered evidence enough for some.” She frowned for a moment and looked around suspiciously as if the ponyratzi might jump out at any time. Then she shook her head and pointed the snack at Greengrass. “Sometimes a pickle is just a pickle, Duke.” “I can’t say I like the things all that much myself,” said Greengrass with a shrug. “This cheese however, is exquisite.” Butterup returned the rest of the pickle to her plate. “I didn’t used to like them. The smell got to me, but my father loved them. As a child, he used to tease me with them at dinner.” She sighed. “Those were good times.” She shook her head. “I should see about booking a ticket on the next train.” Greengrass held out a hoof to stop her. “You’ve got over an hour to go. There’s no need to hurry.” “I have a lot to get done, like my fact finding tour. Even if I can’t use my office, I need to review next week’s votes, Duchess Posey asked me to look into the Equestrian fishing fleet for her...” “You know most courtiers have a staff to help them with that sort of thing, or at least an assistant.” He was interested in finding out why Buttercup didn’t. Unless her province's finances were in truly desperate straits, it shouldn’t be an issue for her to employer a dozen or more helpers. Buttercup stiffened. “I find it better to get things done for myself. My father didn’t have an assistant.” “Yes he did. You,” pointed out Greengrass. “That was different, I, he was training me.” “You’d been organising his office for years now, and not to say anything against Rolling, but you were more or less doing his job for the last few.” Buttercup opened her mouth to argue then shut it again frowning. “It’s my responsibility,” she protested after a few moments. “I have to look after my province. I can’t trust anypony else.” Was it some form of paranoia? Greengrass narrowed his eyes, that didn’t feel right. It was common enough for one noble’s staff to be accepting bribes from others - he’d done it often enough himself - but there were ways to ensure loyalty. “No, I have to disagree there. A good staff well rewarded can be very loyal... maybe more loyal than you deserve sometimes,” his voice trailed off. He hadn’t meant to think about Notary, and her recent departure. Buttercup hesitated for a moment then cautiously reached a hoof across the table to rest on Greengrass’s. “What happened?” she asked quietly.   He pulled his hoof away, but his face must have given away more than he thought. “Nothing really, just one of my staff members, well… resigned. Or I fired her, I’m not entirely sure. The building was on fire and I’d taken a few blows to the head at the point so things aren't entirely clear,” he explained. “There was an incident, she got into trouble due to me, and it seemed for the best. She’s very talented, so I’m sure she’ll land on her hooves, probably already running a city or something by now.” “Was she a friend?” “She was an employee, but well, I think she was a friend.” He hadn’t really thought to much about it at the time. She was Notary, quiet, efficient, reliable Notary. Always there to listen to him, or help him out. “Yes, I think she was a friend. Quite a good one, really. We understood each other. There was a time when I was rather down and she, well she helped me...” Greengrass trailed off again. He didn’t know what he might have done after the gala if Notary hadn’t talked to him. He shook himself. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way. He needed to get himself under control. “I don’t have many friends,” said Buttercup wistfully. “Not ponies who really know me. I grew up in the castle mostly, not many other children there.” Her ears perked up a little. “There are a few ponies outside work I know.” They slumped down towards her skull again. “But I’ve been so busy recently. I just haven't had the time to keep in touch.” “Maybe you should make time,” said Greengrass. “It’s good to have friends!” He tried to sound chipper but he wasn’t exactly swimming in friends himself. When he’d been on top he’d had lots of sycophants ready to hang out with him, but they’d quickly melted away after the gala. Now with Notary gone… well, it was almost like Max was his closest friend, which made him shiver at the scary thought. “Getting back on topic, you really should consider taking on some more staff. I can give you the names of some agencies if you want.” Buttercup looked rather suspicious at that. “I’m sure I could find my own employees, if I needed any. I’m entirely capable of carrying out my duties myself. It’s my responsibility to my ponies after all.” “But couldn’t you do a better job with some help? Houyhnhnm might not be all that big compared to say Caneighda, but it can’t be easy running it all by yourself.” “I have some support back at home,” she admitted. “See, you can’t do everything. How about taking an assistant on just for a while then—” “Excuse me, would you happen to be Duke Greengrass?” asked a black-coated nanny goat who had just trotted up. “Yes?” said Greengrass momentarily surprised. “Oh, are you Mother Nature?” he asked. He hadn’t expected the matron to be a goat. “Yes, I am,” she said in flawless Equestrian. “I’m so glad you could make it. The foals have been really looking forward to meeting you since you volunteered to help yesterday.” “I really like helping foals in need.” He gave a wide smile. “Have you met my companion, Baroness Fields?” “Baroness Fields!” gasped Mother. “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming as well. I really have to thank you for all the hard work your charity has put into helping the orphanage here. Thanks to your grant, we managed to add an extra wing last year, and take on more permanent staff!” She gave a rather clumsy curtsey. Confusion showed on Buttercup’s face for a moment before it quickly morphed into a smile. “Thank you, but really you don’t need to be so formal. I’m more than happy to help the orphans.” “So you’ll be helping the Duke with the gardens as well? The foals are really looking forward to it.” For a moment, Buttercup’s eyes flickered to the station clock, then she glared at Greengrass before finally smiling at Mother. “I would be honored to help.” “Oh, good, good. Follow me!” said the goat turning and trotting away from the town centre. “The little darlings are going to be so surprised!” “So just what have you gotten me into?” Buttercup hissed into Greengrass’s ear. “Me?” he whispered back looking the picture of innocence. “I volunteered to help the orphans with their garden. You know my reputation could do with the boost, a little PR goes a long way. I had no way of knowing that you’d already helped the same orphanage, but then you do so many good causes don’t you? It does sound like you’ve volunteered yourself to help now. It will probably take most the afternoon, and you’ll miss your train. Still it is such a good cause.” “This is some sort of scheme isn't it!” growled Buttercup, but Greengrass couldn’t help notice the smile at the edges of her mouth. “Sometimes a good deed is just a good deed,” he replied. “Settle down children!” called Mother, only to be completely ignored by the three dozen or so foals of various ages cavorting around her. They were gathered in front of what Greengrass assumed was the orphanage, a mid sized building just outside of town. It was somewhat battered in appearance with a few obvious patches thrown onto it, but had been painted in a variety of bright colours giving it a rather jolly appearance. Raising a hoof to her lips Mother gave a high pitched whistle which made Greengrass have to cover his ears. “SETTLE DOWN!” she roared. The foals came to a sudden stop before quickly organising themselves into rough lines. “Good! Now we have some very special guests to help us today.” An excited babble ran through the herd. “May I introduce,” said Mother raising her voice to be heard, “Duke Greengrass and Baroness Fields. They’re courtiers from Canterlot itself, here to help us with your garden!” An excited cheer broke out from the children and they rushed forwards weaving between the adults legs. All talking at once. “Have you met the princess?” called a tiny filly. “Does the princess like potatoes?” added a colt waving a potato. “Are you really a Duke?” asked an older colt, somewhat suspiciously. “What does a Duke do?” said a pegasus filly. “Are you going to be my daddy?” asked another filly with huge blue eyes. “I need to wee!” cried a young colt hopping up and down. The charge made Greengrass want to back away but he was worried that he might crush somepony under hoof. He had thought he was quite good with foals - some at court considered him one after all - but he prefered them in smaller quantities. “I’ve met the princess a few times, but normally when I see her at court she’s at the other side of a big room,” said Buttercup nearby. She bent down to meet the gaze of the crowd around her.  “She looks scary sometimes, but she’s actually a very nice pony. She really like foals like all of you.” She turned to the root vegetable wielding foal. “I don’t think she has anything against potatoes, or any vegetable for that matter.” Apparently finding her much more interesting than him, most of the herd around Greengrass shifted to surround Buttercup. “Anyway, children,” said Mother, attracting the attention of the foals. “We’ve got a lot of work to do today and the Duke and Baroness were nice enough to volunteer to help us.” “Yes, and maybe you could explain exactly what we’re going to be helping with?” asked Greengrass, attracting a surprised look from Mother. “So the children understand,” he added. He’d had to arrange things rather quickly. Locating a nearby orphanage that Buttercup had supported had been comparatively easy, because she’d been very charitable, but after finding one that needed help today, he hadn’t had that much time to find out exactly what they wanted. He knew it was botany related, so he could probably muddle through. “Well,” said Mother still looking somewhat confused, “as you know children, you’ve been working on your gardens all year, planting flowers, looking after the plants and the like. Now that Summer’s been all wrapped up it’s time to gather up the harvest, collect seeds for future planting and tidy things up for the winter. Some of the townsfolk will be helping, but it’s a big job and it’s only right that each room help with their own part of the garden. These nice nobles have volunteered to help as well.” A cheer went up from the children. “And once we’re done we’ll have a big feast of all the best plants!” An even louder cheer was heard. “Good, now follow me!” The foals formed up into fairly neat lines and started to follow their caretaker out around the orphanage leaving Greengrass and Buttercup to tag along behind. To Greengrass’s surprise, the grounds behind the building were rather extensive, probably several acres. There were already a number of adult ponies of all tribes hard at work harvesting the crops. It was a rather uninspired collection to Greengrass’s eye, mostly dietary staples rather than anything imaginative. Maybe he could give Mother a few suggestions for improvements, some flowers would provide better nutrients and looked far more interesting than boring old potatoes. “Aren't there some foal labour laws you’ve voted for to stop this sort of thing?” he whispered to Buttercup with a smile. To his surprise, she actually glared at him with venom. “These fields probably help feed the children for the winter. Most orphanages need all the help they can get. The extra the foals can grow can help to fill their little bellies while allowing funds to be diverted to upkeep of the orphanage and to pay for more staff. Plus, it teaches them skills they can use in their later lives.” Greengrass was somewhat taken aback. He knew how the other half - or more accurately like ninety nine percent - lived, he was hardly naive, but it did really strike home what the foals had to do to survive. He liked his garden back home, and some of it was edible, but he didn’t need it to survive. “Ok, children,” said Mother as they approached a fenced off area near the corner of the fields, “Separate into your rooms. Yellow room, you go with Duke Greengrass, Mr Root will help you out. Green room go with the Baroness and Miss Wood, and Orange room you’re with me and Ms Leaf!” Greengrass had to admit he was actually quite enjoying himself. He’d mostly thought of this event as a way to delay Buttercup further. He’d been certain she wouldn’t say not to the orphans. Maybe working in a field wasn’t everypony’s idea of a good time, but he’d always found it rather relaxing. He stood up, wincing a little as one of his partially healed injuries twinged. Maybe it wasn’t so relaxing right now. “Ok, um, Strawberry.” It was a bit hard to remember all the foals names. “I think you’ve dug down far enough, so just get a good grip on that root and pull. Not too hard. If it breaks off, it’ll grow back again.” The filly in question nodded eagerly before taking the weed in her mouth and slowly pulling. Greengrass nodded encouragement. It was a good chance to give his mark a workout as well as his body. Weeding was his thing after all, both literally and metaphorically. He glanced away from the struggling filly and looked over the rest of his small herd. There was a growing pile of harvested crops at one corner of their allotment, which was only slightly diminished by one of the colts under his care occasionally sneaking a few nibbles from the store. “How are things going over here?” came Buttercup’s voice from nearby. Greengrass turned to see the now rather mud spattered but widely smiling mare. The small colt with the interest in the potatoes sat on her back, with enough mud on her to grow at least a crop of potatoes in her mane and two in her tail. “Pretty good. You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” said Greengrass straightening up. “I am,” she mused for a moment. “I really am. I still don’t know what you plan to get out of all of this, but I have to admit it is fun to spend time with the foals.” “Now, we’re not here to just have fun, you know,” he said with mock severity. “We’ve got lots of harvesting to do.” “I think my team are well ahead of schedule. They’re real little troopers.” She looked over towards the patch of ground her assigned foals were working on. “I think my group will finish first. Zippy there could probably do it all by herself quicker than your whole team could.” He nodded towards a white coated unicorn filly who was neatly yanking out carrot after carrot before levitating them over to a colt following behind her. Hearing her name she turned and waved at Greengrass, who waved back. He’d really taken a shine to her. She was a harder worker, usually quiet but ready to voice an opinion when asked. In a way, she reminded him a bit of Notary. “I’m sure we can do better,” snorted Buttercup. “Care to make a wager on it?” asked Greengrass quickly. Buttercup’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Unless you think your team isn’t good enough?” he added. “What would we wager?” she said cautiously, the passenger on her back clambering forwards to stare are Greengrass. “Humm, if your team win then how about I indulge your curiosity and tell you what today's been all about.” Greengrass didn’t think he had much to lose, if he did give up Max’s part in the plan then Buttercups vengeance would fall on him - as if the meek mare could do much in the way of vengeance. Not that he thought his foals would lose. “And if you win?” “Then the two of us go out tonight to a concert, or art gallery, or something.” “A date, Duke?” she said coyly. Greengrass blinked and coloured slightly. That hadn’t exactly been what he’d meant. “No, just a night out.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, with the colt clinging to her head mirroring her expression. “I suppose there is a Crescendo gig on tonight,” she mused. “It’s been awhile since I last...” Greengrass raised an eyebrow. He’d never heard of any such musician, but then he wasn’t exactly up to date with such things. It was a pity that his plan to ensnare Octavia hadn’t worked, because he could probably have used her expertise on such things. He shook himself. There was no use crying over spilt milk. He had another scheme to work on now, particularly when Buttercup finally said, “Ok, you’re on!” Greengrass smiled. He had hoped that she’d be competitive, not to mention curious enough to take his bait. “Good, so shall we say whichever team has harvested the most by the end of the the hour wins?” Buttercups eyes flickered between the two plots of land and the piles of harvest already on them. “Not counting what’s already been picked,” she added. Greengrass internally swore. He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice that he’d pushed his team hard so far so they’d have a good lead from the start. Buttercup was less of the milksop she seemed. “Of course,” he agreed through gritted teeth. He was sure he could still win, it would just take a bit more effort. “Good,” she said holding out a hoof. Greengrass reached out and shook it. “Agreed,” he said but his opponent had already turned on her heels and was rushing back to her own team her passenger clinging on tightly. Grinning he returned to his own team. “Ok, Yellow room,” he called out, “we need to pick up the pace!” “But I’m tired!” moaned one of his young minions. There was a chorus of agreement from around the team. “Don’t you want to prove that Yellow room is the best?” he asked. There were a few shouts of agreement but in general the response was rather muted. Greengrass sighed, maybe pushing the team early on had been a mistake now they couldn’t capitalise on that. Maybe a few bribes would get the foals to do what he wanted. It wasn’t like it was the worst thing he’d ever done, he just hoped nopony asked for parents are anything like that. Greengrass considered himself somewhat cold hearted, but crushing the hopes of a foal like that, well even he had his limits. “Mr Duke sir,” asked one of the nearby foals, a cute little filly with a huge curly mane called River Melody, “Why did you make a bet with the Lady Baroness? Why do you want her to go to a music thing?” “You see,” said Greengrass kneeling down, he guessed there was no harm in telling them. “She’s been working really hard recently, and I think she could do with a night off, just some time to relax and play.” “So you want to score with the skirt?” asked Dodger, one of the older colts. Greengrass scowled, foals weren't supposed to think of things like that. Nor were they supposed to talk like a character from a detective novel, which he guessed it was an affliction. The hat the colt wore suggested an interest in that type of fiction. “No, if she keeps working so hard she might get sick. She’s been pushing herself too hard since her father died.” The background chatter of the foals died down. “She’s only got her mom then?” asked River quietly. “No, I think, I think she lost her mother a long time ago.” He remembered that from Rollings retirement party. “So she’s an orphan too?” “Well, I guess so,” Greengrass hadn’t really thought about it that way before, he supposed it was correct. It certainly put a new light on Buttercup’s previous work to help orphanages. “And she really needs a night off?” asked Dodger. “You’re not trying to trick us? “Cross my heart,” swore Greengrass touching a hoof to his chest. The crowd around him formed a little whispering huddle. Greengrass glanced nervously over towards Buttercup’s team, they were already hard at work with Buttercup eagerly leading the way digging up a line of potatoes while her assistants yanked the plants from the soil. “Ok,” said Dodger eventually, “We’ll help.” The various foals nodded their agreement. “but we want a few treats to some sweeten the deal,” he quickly added. Greengrass smiled. Bribery, he almost felt proud. “I’m sure I can sort something out.” He grabbed a trowel in his mouth. “Now enough talking, let's get down to gardening shall we?” “And that’s one, two, three, crates of carrots,” announced Mother Nature ticking off the last of the produce. “Good work, Yellow room! That’s a crate more than Green room.” There was much cheering and stamping of hooves from the winning foals while the losing team scowled. “But it wasn’t really a contest,” she added giving Buttercup and Greengrass hard looks causing them to squirm a little. “You all did very well harvesting everything so quickly. Now if you all go and wash your hooves we have a special dinner put on as a reward.” Their rivalry quickly forgotten, the foals from all three rooms raced off towards the front of the orphanage where some of the volunteers were setting out a long table covered in food, some of which had just been picked. “The two of you are free to join us, of course,” the goat added. “Thank you for your help.” “It was no problem at all,” said Buttercup, “I’d be happy to come and help in future, when I have the time.” “Yes, they’re a great little group. I had a wonderful time,” said Greengrass, a little surprised to find out that he meant every word. It might be an idea to keep an eye on some of the foals. There could be a place in some of his organisations for them in a few years when they were grown. “You can expect a donation to help in the running of this place.” “Thank you,” said Mother, bobbing in place. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay all that longer,” said Buttercup. “The next train to Canterlot can’t be all that long now.” “That is a shame. The foals will miss you. There are places for you at the table?” Buttercup looked tempted for a moment, but then she shook her head. “I’ll be sure to say goodbye, once I’ve washed up a bit.” She reached up and dislodged a clod of earth from her mane. “Maybe more than a bit.”  Her coat and mane were splattered with mud from her earlier work. Greengrass doubted he looked any better. He’d really had to get stuck in to beat his rival even with his team so fired up. “Ladies first,” he said gesturing to the hosepipe the foals had used to quickly remove the worst of the dirt before rushing off to eat. To his surprise Buttercup didn’t balk at the primitive washing facilities and took the hose in her mouth before using the hoof switch to activate the water. A stream of ice cold water quickly sprung forth as she twisted her head to remove the worst of the muck coating her. The water made her sodden coat stick tightly to her lithe feminine form. A twist of her head caused her curly orange mane flare out, forming a halo around her head, the moisture caught the light making it seem to glow. A second twitch of her head sent the hosepipes contents spraying directly into Greengrass’s face causing him to shy back, sputtering. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she said with a smile. “Sorry, sorry,” gasped Greengrass. He realised he must have been staring and coloured. “Your turn,” she said tossing the hosepipe towards her fellow noble. Greengrass caught it in his mouth rather awkwardly and shivered as the icy water started to soak into his coat. “Don’t take too long. We still have to say goodbye and make it to the train in time.” “Just... made... it!” panted Buttercup, slumping into her seat in the train as it started to pull away. “You didn’t have to... say goodbye to every foal... you know,” said Greengrass as he joined her. The train back was rather more crowded than the one out, but hardly packed. He took a deep breath. The delay meant they’d had to gallop all the way back. “Funny... I thought it was you giving that little filly a ponyback ride which made us late?” Greengrass looked away. Zippy had asked very nicely. “We should be back in Canterlot in a few hours. I hope we’ll be in time for your concert.” “I think so. We can pay at the door so I won’t need to get tickets. I’ll just need some time to change.” Greengrass rolled his eyes  Mares always seemed to need to dress up for these events, but he could do with some time to get properly cleaned up after today's harvest. “So, did you enjoy today?” he asked. Next to him, Buttercup closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. “Yes, yes, I suppose I did,” she said eventually. “I’ll need to work twice as hard tomorrow to catch up, but yes I’ve had a good time.” She turned towards him. “I still want to know why you’re doing this though.” “Sorry, I won the contest, remember.” Buttercup gave a delightful pout. “I’ll just say you have some very good friends looking out for you.” “Was it Auntie Quicksilver? She’s always telling me to relax! I know she’s just worried about me, now that dad...” She trailed off into silence. “Look,” said Greengrass after a long moment. “I know you want to be a good courtier and all that, but you’re doing nopony any good by working yourself into an early grave. Look what happened to your father—” He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the word left his mouth. A look of pain flitted across Buttercups face, and she crumpled back into the seat. “I’m sorry. I know how much you loved him.” “He... he was all I had for a long time. He raised me single hoofed. I never really knew my mother. It was just him and me. Then suddenly it was just me.” She sighed. “Duchess Posey told me I had to be strong. To not show how much losing him hurt. I don’t know, I keep trying, I keep working, keep running. Long hours at the office, coming home to an empty house, sleeping, back to work again. If I can just keep going long enough will I stop feeling so lonely?” She turned to him with tears welling in her eyes. He instinctively reached out a hoof and rested it against her own. He did not consider himself a good pony, but no pony could resist offering comfort in the face of such pain. “I’m sorry, I...” He didn’t know what else to say. “No, I’m,” she sniffed, “I shouldn’t burden you with all this.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m a baroness. I should be stronger.” “Horse Apples!” he announced loudly earning a few glares from other passengers. “Being a noble doesn’t make you any stronger than any other pony, I’m a Duke, it’s not like I’m superequine! Viceroy Night Light tried to crush one of the element bearers just because she humiliated his daughter. Even Luna can be petty!” Just one of the many reasons she shouldn’t be in charge of Equestria! Buttercup looked shocked. “But my father, he, he was the perfect courtier. Honorable! Brave! I have to follow in his hoofsteps!” “Do you remember his retirement party?” asked Greengrass. Buttercup winced at the reminder of the day her father died. “What he said? That he wasn’t perfect? That some of the decisions he’d made had been purely for personal gain?” “But, that was just to get the court to help duchess Posey—” “No, it was true,” interrupted Greengrass. “Just like everypony else he had hooves of clay. Look, sometimes it can be hard to see somepony you’re close to as being a normal pony. Especially a parent. When you’re a foal, they just seem so… so big.” He’d used to look up to his father so much when he was young. It was only as he’d grown older and seen how little power Greenmeadow actually had for all the work he put in that he’d started to see how much different things should be. “But my father he was-” “He was a doddering old fool near the end,” said Greengrass bluntly.  He had to look away from the pain that crossed Buttercup’s face, but she needed to be told. It just wasn’t good for her setting such high standards for herself. “He was nice enough, but he was only there for half the time. It was you that made sure everything was right. How many times did you have to correct something, or prompt him?” “Sometimes I had to... he was old you see...” Now it was Buttercup who couldn’t meet Greengrass’s gaze. “Yes, he was an old stallion, and he needed help. No pony can do everything alone. You can’t do everything alone! You need help!” There was silence for a moment, and Greengrass realised he was standing and shouting in the middle of the carriage. He glanced around at all the worried looking ponies before taking his seat again. He expected Buttercup to be crying after his outburst, or screaming at him, or something else.  Instead, she just sat there eyes looking a little glazed at if her sight had turned onto herself. “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t carry on as you are. You’ll burn out and I don’t want to see that. I’m not saying you have to give up, but you just need to rest and accept a little help. Despite what some ponies would tell you, I’m not entirely irresponsible, I put quite a bit of work into Caneighda, but I know how to delegate.” Buttercup blinked and mumbled something, making him prompt, “What was that?” “I said you’re right,” she repeated more clearly. “I... I have been pushing myself too hard. I do need help. Duchess Posey offered, Max offered, and now you. I guess it’s just my pride that I thought I could do it all alone.” “You have got a lot to be proud of, but there’s nothing wrong with letting others help you. All good leaders need a lot of support around them.” “I guess so, and yes, I know my father wasn’t perfect in a lot of ways. I don’t like thinking about it. He was, he was, my dad you know. I thought he’d be around longer, that he’d be able to help me with things.” Greengrass patted her hoof again. Maybe he should take a trip back to Caneighda some time soon, his father liked to keep an eye on him but he hadn’t seen his mother since the summer. Her birthday was coming up... “Thank you,” continued Buttercup, “I think I needed that, needed somepony to tell me the facts straight out, not sugar coat it.” “Sometimes you need a truth potion to get something like that out and sometimes...” he winced, the gala hadn’t exactly been his best moment. “Anyway, we should be home soon. I know you promised, but if you don’t want to go out tonight you don’t have to. You can just sleep in, or I might have some names you could think about for assistants. I’ve heard Duchess Posey recently let hers go.” Although apparently that had been for incompetence, so he might not be the best option, but it would be a start. “No,” she managed a weak smile. “No,” she repeated a little stronger, “It has been a long time since I went to a gig. It’ll be good to let my mane down.” “As long as you’re sure. I don’t think I’ve heard of Crescendo before, what does she play?” “She’s multitalented, but she sings mostly.” “So, we’re going to the opera? I hope it works out better than that Golden Horseshoe thing from last month.” At least that had managed to redirect some of the court's displeasure away from him. “Not exactly,” said Buttercup her smile starting to inch up. “I think it might be rather a surprise to you, hopefully a pleasant one.”