//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 - Blueberry Waffles // Story: With Malus Aforethought // by Schismatism //------------------------------// Eight hours, it could be argued, was more than long enough for a pony to sleep. It provided a sensible amount of recovery, allowed for dopamine production to return to normal levels, allowed ponies to rearrange their memories on a subconscious level (something aided, it must be said, since Luna returned), and - above all - still allowed for a great deal of relaxation while maintaining a high-performing day. It was also by no means enough for Rarity. The sound of birds chirping outside her windowsill was bad enough, even when she slammed her windows shut with a clamor which would have awoken anyone else around. By Celestia, why did I spend so long last night working on those dresses? The sun peeking through her blinds was quickly shut out with a thrust of her alabaster horn, blanketing the delightful morn with tasteful shade. And why, oh why, did I agree to help Applejack so extensively? The smell of smoke was quickly whiffed away with a hoof fan, before the pervasive scent returned in spades. And why did I ever let Sweetie Belle cook breakf-- That thought process terminated in an angry crash as Rarity lept out of bed, stumbled upon her sheets, threw off her nightgown, and rushed downstairs in hopes that it wouldn't be too late. Even the faintest scent of smoke could potentially ruin her masterpieces, but that was next to nothing in comparison to the blazing inferno she expected upon reaching the kitchens, and the state of her sister...! As Rarity practically dove into the kitchen, her eye for detail took her on a grand tour through the onslaught. Pots and pans were strewn about as though disturbed by some angry giant; her carefully arranged crystal windchime was laying next to the window, in casual disarray. Her stove was spewing black clouds of smoke, undoubtedly caused by some filly which had left nearly an entire bowl of batter upon the burner... and her prized, personally-signed Donna Bella hoofmitts were practically smouldering, their fabric singed and seared. But, at least, her sister was alright. After catching her breath in the smoky kitchen - smoke which, she noticed, a very contrite Scootaloo had been pushing through an open window via the hummingbird-esque buzzing of her wings - Rarity collected herself. Everything seemed to be perfectly normal. Everything was absolutely fine now. The kitchen was a mess, but the kitchen was almost always a mess. The slabs of charcoal on a plate were simply her sister's way of expressing her love. All of this the fashionista carefully compiled into a stack, to be taken from the top. "What in Celestia's name did you think you were doing?!" Sweetie Belle cowered from her angry sister, looking almost sick as she tried to explain. "Well, um. Rarity, Scootaloo came over early, and saw that basket of blueberries, and we figured that, um, maybe... you'd like blueberry waffles for breakfast?" Rarity's gimlet eye alit upon the waffle maker, randomly shoved into a corner and still steaming slightly. "...waffles?" Celestia's morning was a regular affair, filled with the endlessly boring necessities which only an immortal alicorn could truly grow accustomed to. Awaken early in the morning, greet her sister, brush her mane, raise the sun in conjunction with the moon's nadir, and finally, adjourn to a fine breakfast on one terrace amongst many. Her trademark smile was already plastered on her face as she took her seat upon a silken cushion, the table before her already laden with a pot of tea and two fine ceramic cups. To her terminally anxious attendee, Stoneware Platter, she gave a gentler gaze, all the better to put her at ease -- which achieved precisely the opposite effect, as the mare nearly dropped her notepad. "Y-yes, your highness?" the Earth pony asked, looking for all the world like she wanted to flee as fast as possible. To herself, Celestia sighed: Is there no place in this kingdom where I won't be treated like a goddess? The thought of escaping to Zebra lands and disguising herself played as always upon her mind, before she simply discarded it. "Yes... would you please bring me a plate of blueberry waffles, and perhaps a bottle of that marvelous Gryphonia syrup?" The alicorn smiled once more, a gentle radiance which could light up the world if it so chose - and the mare before her could only nod twice in quick succession before bolting off, looking for all the world like an inferno had been lit under her flanks. Celestia let out the sigh she'd been holding in, taking in the delights of the Canterlot gardens below her. There, a flock of birds of paradise soared into the sky, tasting the air in preparation for their yearly migration. There, a set of small fauna - squirrels and chipmunks - basked in the knowledge that they'd have very little to do, the castle staff regularly feeding them a wide variety of slightly-off nuts. There, a draconequus-- "Largo al factotum della citta. Presto a bottega che l'alba e gia...!!" Without warning, the cup held in her delicate magic shattered in twain, spilling tea across the table. The saucer began a small samba across the cast-iron surface, vibrations assailing it from every corner - and the teapot simply rolled across the surface, nearly smashing itself across the balcony before Celestia's magic caught it. Not all of this, of course, was due to the absolutely piercing voice which had suddenly resounded from the gardens below her, but any other odd coincidences could easily be attributed to that source. Nostrils flaring in a puff of air, Celestia began making her way downwards from the balcony, interrupted only by a brief pause to write a note to her wayward waiter: To Stoneware Platter, Don't worry about me being gone. I merely have some small business to which I must attend. If you would kindly keep the dish warm until I return, I would be most thankful. Sincerely, Princess Celestia Had her Princess the time to compose herself, she would perhaps have predicted that the poor mare would hyperventilate herself into unconsciousness before the end of the third line. But, alas, such was not to be. Were an educated observer to take the time to parse precisely what Discord was singing, they might have remarked on what an absolutely astounding operatic voice the draconequus had. They would have applauded his range, his versatility, his tenor, his bass, his soprano, his pitch, his absolute breadth. "V'e la riSOrsa, poI, dE mesTIere cOLla donnetta... COL caVILere..." Then, they would have lamented the fact that Discord was using his not inconsiderable talents not only to sing off-key, but without tempo or even the slightest consideration for the terms crescendo or diminuendo. They would have wailed at his mispronunciation of even the simplest Bitallian words... "Figaro! FIGARO! Figaro!" And, somewhere along the line, they'd have probably torn off their own ears. Celestia had decided to take the stairs down, rather than teleporting or simply leaping from the balcony, for two reasons: first, it was the most likely way to let her rage simmer, then cool down. Having her regular breakfast interrupted was simply not done, not in many, many years. Naturally, Discord was never one to play by the rules, but even then, there were matters of propriety to be observed! Secondly, she wasn't entirely sure that she would reach the grounds the short way without some manner of practical joke leveled against her. Her wings disappearing halfway down had been funny precisely once, and only because Discord had been kind enough to let her land in a vat of gelatin. On her way down, a third reason presented itself to the scion of the sun: a cloud of smoke materialized as though from nowhere, revealing a slightly worn scroll sealed with her student's sigil. For a brief moment, Celestia's sombre mood stabilized, the wax stamp parting easily under her magic, but as her eyes scanned the text, a mental thunderstorm began to rage once more. Her mood was not in the slightest bit improved as her surprisingly casual path was blocked by a unicorn noble, one Siren Wail. The ebony-maned, cyan stallion stared at her with wide eyes, flecks of foam falling with every panting breath. "Your Highness!" the unicorn all but screamed. "There's some kind of monster in the gardens! It's... it's horrible! Lady Octavia has already--" "The situation is under control. Please move aside." Celestia's voice was even, calm, quiet, and utterly absolute, and the unicorn found that he'd flattened himself against the wall before even an ounce of conscious thought had entered his brain. The Solar Diarch passed without qualm or concern, heading towards the gardens, before something occurred to her. "Have the medics attended to her?" she asked, her one visible eye pinning Siren to his spot. "Y-y-yes, your highness... she'd merely passed out. They're t-tending to her now." A slight gulp across a dry throat might have spelled out the unicorn's doom, at least in his mind, but Celestia simply nodded, returning to her very precise route. The moment Princess Celestia had left the sight of the guards and noble, every ounce of tension in the air popped like a balloon. The noble's eyes rolled back in his head before a huge faint took him - and the three guardsponies - by surprise. One by one, they looked from Siren to each other, before noting, in unison, "I'm not cleaning that up." "Pronto prontissimo son come il fumine: sono il factotum della citta." Celestia almost literally stormed into the gardens, her horn brightly lit, horns flashing, wings flaring, and scroll held very carefully indeed. It would not do to have it ignite, after all, before the draconequus saw it. "Discord," she breathed, her voice very quiet - the stillness of the eye of a hurricane. In the centre of the Royal Gardens lay what could perhaps, in some alternate universe unbounded by scale, be defined as a 'modest birdbath'. And, despite Celestia's claims that a centerpiece should not overshadow the rest of the features, it might have begun as such. However, the architect, laden as she was by the demands of nobles, worn down by the constant claims for more features and offers of higher payment, had succumbed to economy and produced, at enormous expense, a masterwork piece. The fifty-hoof height of what could only truly be called a 'pagoda' glistened in the morning dew, mechanical and magical effects producing rainbows and fountains far more appropriate for a Gala installation than a mere garden piece. Nonetheless, Celestia had proclaimed her appreciation for the piece. It would certainly not do to break a heart which had poured its very essence into such a creation. And so the fountain was placed here, where any visitor could see it - and where the birds at least certainly had a wonderful place to swim. And now a certain draconequus was showering in the fountains, which were, in defiance of all logic, spewing strawberry syrup. Were it possible for a statue to look affronted, these would have quite the sour looks. Instead, they merely gazed upon the sight of a chimaera bathing himself with a loofah rod which - unaccountably - looked quite like Princess Sparkle's head on a stick. "Discord." Celestia's voice rose twenty decibals, her astral mane taking on a few undertones of orange and crimson. From their vantage points high above, the guards took a step back in unison, quite certain as to what was about to happen. "Ah, bravo Figaro! Bravo, bravissimo; a te fortuna non mancheeeeee--" "DISCORD! Celestia's mane finally flared with the power of the sun, colours disappearing in a wave of pure white. Her horn flared, the strawberry jelly resolving into its regular, watery state; the rod in question disappeared, surely to return later; and Discord fell two feet into the water he'd been hovering above, claw and paw clutching at smarting eyes. "Ow, ow, ow, OW!" The chimaera whined pitifully as he splashed around in the fountain, his tail nearly soaking the alicorn before him. Even that trick was denied him, however, as the residual heat from Celestia's flare evaporated the liquid before even a drop could hit her mane. "Why in the name of Solaris did you--erk." Celestia's magic caught the draconequus around the throat as she simply yanked him out of the fountain, her patience exhausted. "What. Is. This." she asked in a dangerously level tone, holding up the scroll for Discord to read. With a casual gesture, Discord kept one eye on Celestia, popping out the other one to roll over the page. "Well, if I'm not mistaken, this would be a lovely piece of ink-stained paper, circa--" A bit of magic squeezed around Discord's chest, and he wheezed slightly before sighing. "Alright, alright. Really, you did interrupt my bath. You'd think I'd deserve a little bit of levitas in ret--ghk!" Celestia growled loudly, her stomach barely a moment behind. "Explain, Discord, why my student believes that you've violated that pact of yours." With a snap of his fingers, Discord teleported behind Celestia, instantly free of her magic, and snaked around to chuckle in her ear. "Why, that's because, Celestia, in an emergency, your student is so bereft of imagination. It's something of a failing in your precious ponies, I daresay. Applejack and Rainbow Dash just plow ahead; Fluttershy simply hides, for the most part; Twilight Sparkle barrels ahead with her magic. Not a one of them has an ounce of lateral thought... that I've seen, at least. The only two of them who are likely to see what I'm really up to are Rarity and Pinkie Pie, and they're both likely to be on my side." One ear flicked, and Celestia turned to level a low glare at Discord - only to see herself staring into a mirror. The only difference was that the Celestia in the mirror was dressed in a lovely samba dress, with a hat comprised of a panoply of fruits - practically a tree's worth, albeit of assorted types. "That's quite a good look for you, Celestia!" Discord's voice was crowing, the monster's face somehow supplanted onto a pile of grapes. "Tell me, do you like... mmm, bananas?" From nowhere, a cha-cha band invisibly sprang up, playing a jaunty tune. "Discord... " While Celestia's usual discontent at Discord's antics was still in full force, her abrupt and - admittedly, uncharacteristic - anger began to simmer to that lower stage. "If you decide to tell me what's going on, and if you're sincere, then perhaps I can persuade Fluttershy not to be angry." "You wound me, Celestia!" The draconequus flitted away from her, only to have a literal manifestation of the word 'heartbreak' pierce his chest. A single tear fell from his eye, and he hit the ground, gasping for air. "Rose... bud..." For her part, Celestia simply tapped a hoof - though she did surreptitiously levitate a small grape into her mouth. "Oh, all right, then." Discord sprang back to life, wielding a pair of maracas and a sombrero, a guitar across his back. The music picked up - a rather more lively tune than before - and the draconequus led her into a small dance across the suddenly-blooming gardens. Into her ear, he whispered, "You'll honestly find it funny. That, I promise." "Finally!" Twilight Sparkle rushed across to grab the letter which had just been sent via Spike. Applejack was nowhere to be found, and Pinkie Pie was somewhere, but at least Fluttershy was here. The butter-yellow pegasus had initially been concerned about her friends, but after a bit of communication, she'd finally come to the conclusion that 'they all really, really like cherries'. The question of Sweet Apple Acres was still on her mind, though. "Okay, let's see," began Twilight, unrolling the scroll. Dear Twilight Sparkle, I have recently questioned Discord, in depth, on the purpose behind his recent actions, and he has informed me - with great sincerity and with absolute logic - that this is in no way a violation of the pact. His intentions are, in this case, wholly beneficial, but it falls to you and your friends to learn how. Discord has pledged that Sweet Apple Acres will return to normal 'in the fullness of time'. Sadly, he disappeared immediately after saying this, so I cannot provide you with a proper timeframe. Don't worry, my faithful student. I'm certain that you and your friends will be able to make it through this. Sincerely yours, Princess Celestia. "B...but... but how does that...?" "Oh, thank goodness. I knew that Discord wasn't really going back to his old ways." Compared to her ordinary reticence, Fluttershy practically exulted in that letter, entirely smiles, and even Twilight couldn't help but lighten up slightly at the sight. "You're right, Fluttershy. I'm sure Princess Celestia knows what she's doing. But... what'll we tell Applejack?" The two mares stared at each other for a long while.