//------------------------------//
// 301 - Problem Solving 
// Story: Putting on a Silver Robe and Wizard Hat 
// by David Silver 
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Silver escaped the attention of the mares that desired it. It was easy to do, going half a country away. He had business in Manehattan.

That left others behind. Maribelle dusted the tops of some shelves in their room, humming a soft song to herself as she did so.

Whiskers was watching her, seated between two eager foals that were busy playing with one another, coming far too close to landing on her in their tussles. "I don't mean to complain..."

"Which means you are." Maribelle's humming faded away as she glanced over her shoulder at her tiny friend. "What's on your mind?" She swept a furry hand over the top of another hard to reach surface, getting the hand dirty, but cleaning her target.

"We are personal servants of the prince." She put her hands to her chest, gesturing at herself emphatically. "But we so rarely see him, and even more rarely speak with him. I converse with his wife more often."

"Night?" Maribelle scooped up Clear Twilight and set her down on the bed. Morning Glory was just as quickly set down in a chair. "She's a darling one, very serious half the time, but nice. Not Too Nice, but nice." Maribelle placed a book in front of one foal, a carrot before the other, distracting them both.

"Yes, yes, very nice." Whiskers scratched her cheek slowly. "It's a funny thing. I wanted to get away from being... an object, and I got that... and now I feel unvalued."

Maribelle crouched down, still towering over Whiskers. "I still think you're a precious treasure."

Whiskers smiled brightly at her friend. "You're a friend. You have been... I appreciate it... but..." She rubbed an arm with a hand, fidgeting. "This will sound strange, but part of me wants to be admired, with kind eyes. I don't think our prince cares to do that."

"You just got used to it." She tapped Whiskers on the nose, getting a sneeze from the dust that was still on her hand from her dusting work. "Find new things to express yourself with. Oh!" She brought together her hands in a great clap, a new cloud of dust exploding outwards. "I bet you'd be really good at music."

"Singing?" Whiskers peered at her friend, uncertain.

"Sure, or an instrument." Maribelle rose back to her full height, resuming her cleaning. "I'm not a talented cow. I can take care of little ones alright, or clean a room, or make someone feel good after a hard day's work." She got to straightening some books in the room. "You have talents, I know it. You just have to tease them out."

"Those are talents." She burst into a little musical laugh as she stood up. "Maribelle, you are incredibly talented. You're watching the foals, cleaning the room, and consoling a little friend without even batting an eye."

"I suppose that's true." Maribelle swayed her tasseled tail. "But this is about you. Your talents. You have nice little hands with clever fingers, why not an instrument? Everyone loves watching someone make nice music."

"An instrument..." Whiskers had much to consider, starting with what instrument she'd even want to try.





"Are you alright?" Night asked as she stepped in from nothing, appearing beside Queen Haydon. "It's been some time." She didn't like the way the numbers were leaning.

"No." Haydon looked to Tirek, who had plumped back up to strong looking. "But I think it can be."

"He hasn't changed. Of course he hasn't." Tirek grunted with growing anger. "He won't until I give him something he can not deny."

"He said that once himself." With hands clasped, Haydon took a single step forward. "He was talking about you."

"Did it work?!" Tirek thundered, clopping a hoof down, right hand balled and shaking.

"No." She regarded Tirek evenly. "Do you think it will work better on your side?"

He threw his hands aside with an almost pained grunt. Night inclined her head. Her numbers had been wrong. She slid in near Haydon. "You two are having a good conversation." There was always Discord's chances, when things went down the unlikely path. "Need any help?"

"This is a family affair." She gently made shooing motions.

"Yeah! We're talking." His anger focused on Night, who was more available than his father at the moment. "Buzz off!"

Night dipped her head. "I am close by." She vanished back to the world of wakefulness.





Silver strode down the street, eyes wandering. It had been some time since last he was in Manehattan. His thoughts went to when he first came to the city, with Rough Draft, his OC. His adoptive father. How was he doing? Silver frowned, quietly bemoaning that ponies weren't nearly as connected as would have been nice, just give him a quick call...

That wasn't an option, and not what he had come to do. He still wondered if Rough had gotten to BipedCon since that fateful time...

No, no... He had come to deal with a naughty pony. Not violent, near as he could tell, just... wrong. That happened with ponies. Criminals that just did things you wouldn't want them to do. Perhaps she could be reformed? It was a nice part about Equestria. Few criminals were so bad that guiding them back to productivity and inclusion wasn't on the table.

She was involved with seedier elements. He knew because of how he had to track her down. She operated in a place owned by one of the local gangs, a large one, one of the biggest. Large enough that attacking a prince that just marched in on their business wouldn't be entirely alien in idea. Canterlot was far away, and basically another country, as far as the ponies that lived those lives were concerned.

Demanding deference because of his crown would get nowhere. He could have brought a bunch of guards, but that'd put everything on a confrontational start. He would approach with a smile, and hopefully they could resolve it with one.

Besides, if they saw him coming, they could run away. Reports showed that Twilight had come with her friends, possibly more than once. Ah, of course. He clucked his tongue, a smile forming quickly. He would not be some enforcer of the law raining down on them.

He'd be exactly what they wanted to see, a customer.

He considered trying to look sad, but, truth told, he was actually kind of bad at that. Barring literal tears, he often didn't look sad, even when he was. He would look impassive, as he did more often, when not putting on a bright welcoming smile. He willed the door open to what looked more like a laundromat than a place to get powerful magic done. "Hello?"

A griffon was inside, typing, watching him. Her eyes were not on the keys, or anything she might have been working on, but she was going at full speed. Silver had to be impressed at the skill on display. "Wow, you're a good touch typer. I don't run into many of those."

She peered at him like he had said something quite silly. "Pony typewriters only have two keys. They need to watch to know which one they hit?"

"Oh, true, much of the time." He raised a hoof to point even as he let his magic escape, creating a feeling cloud of magic that slowly expanded. "That typewriter clearly isn't binary. I wouldn't use a binary myself."

"You type?" She was still working, not pausing. "That's nice. You have an appointment?"

Silver willed the door shut behind himself. "I was hoping to..." What was the proper word? "I heard she can make ponies, and I wanted to talk to her about that, buying one?"

She stopped typing long enough to hike a thumb at a sign that hung overhead. "No Royalty," it read.

Silver didn't notice it before, but was then gaping at it. Well... spotted. He did have wings and a horn, but that went unnoticed half the time outside of Canterlot. "That's not nice. Why not?"

She laid her hands flat on her typewriter, the absence of her typing somehow loud. "Why are you here?"

One of his ears folded back. He hadn't wanted it to, darn pony tics. "I want to talk to Fetlock."

"She isn't available."

"I'm not here to attack her." Smile, always smile. Shows people you're not a threat. Smile and wave. Less waving in this case. Smile... "I just want to have a chat, maybe get a pony?"

"You could get a lot of ponies." She reached under her desk, drawing out a paper and setting it down. It was a tapestry of headlines, featuring him. "You could just ask. What kind of pony couldn't you get without her help?"

He figured she wasn't entirely off on that. He had money, influence, some amount of fame... He could get a lot of ponies... "But not one that was... special." Did they even know they used to be human? He couldn't be sure. "If you've read up on me, which I'm not sure why you did."

"It's my business." She resumed her typing. "Keep riffraff away from the boss."

"If you've read up on me," he repeated, but pressed on, "You know I have... an interesting background." He flicked  his tail as he regarded the griffon in his way. "I want--"

She brought down a talon, tapping not at a key, but a particular scrap of paper. "You see and administer creatures just like you, all the time." She resumed her typing. "I'm not buying it."

There it was, a little piece about the humans and once humans he provided counseling and support to. "But I was hoping for a specific one," he argued. "Which is what she does, isn't it? I have the bits." He curled on himself and grabbed a bag in his teeth, pulling it out of his saddlebag and into view with a weighty set of jingles from the coins inside. "Right here."

The sight of the bag slowed her typing. "Yeah?" Her eyes followed the sway and movements of the coins. "She isn't cheap."

"Neither am I." He willed the bag forward, setting it heavily beside her typewriter. "I want to place an order. When can I talk to her?"

She reached for the bag, but his field let him wrap his magic around it and snatch it away instantly, hovering in the air instead. "Not until I see her."

"You don't pay, you don't see her," she noted flatly. "Nobody sees the doctor without an appointment, and those aren't free."

"Fair enough..." He pulled the bag open in his magic. "What's the appointment fee?" He could see her thinking, considering what price to name. "Fifty," he declared for her, drawing out 5 ten bit coins and setting them down.

Apparently a good enough number, with the speed with which she snatched them up. "You have a number?"

"Back at the castle," he admitted a little lamely. "Not here."

She pointed across the way. "You can slum over at the hotel across the way. We'll call you when it's time. Get out of here." She banished him with a dismissive wave.

Silver did not leave right away, drawing his magic back into himself slowly, the way to get the most of it. "Thank you. I will be on my best behavior with the doctor."

"You better." Back to typing she had gone. What was she even working on? His magic field could feel what was being done, but not see it. The contents of the page remained a mystery. "I suggest you not wander around after dark, Your Highness."

"City life." He pressed back outside. He wasn't alien to the idea of living in a place where one could be mugged, even if the idea of pony muggers still managed to make him smile, despite all he had endured. Vicious little fur balls that would still be adorable even as they took his things and shouted angrily.

He had a doctor to see.