Towers of Trust

by Field

The Underground Shindig

The next day came and went without incident. I left for work a little earlier than usual and put a rush on my usual feeding and cleaning routine. Bear would be cross to find that I hadn’t prepared any animal meals for the next day shift, but he could just get over it.

Even though I was a full-time employee of Canterlot I still didn’t know all the ins and outs of the castle itself. My duties were primarily in the gardens on the south side of the castle, so the east wing was foreign territory to me. It wasn’t until I noticed one of the housekeeping ponies ducking shadily into a nondescript door at the end of the corridor that I discerned the location of the wine cellar.

I knocked a hoof against the door as well and was greeted by the sight of an eye peeking through the keyhole.

“This room is being cleaned. What’s your business here?”

I chuckled slightly and fished my identification coin out of my vest pocket. I lowered it toward the keyhole before I spoke.

“I’m Mossy Hooves, the night garden caretaker.”

Apparently he recognized me too, as the tone of suspicion in his voice faded quickly as he greeted me.

“Sorry about that. Can’t be too careful, you know.” We shook hooves pleasantly. “Glad to see ol’ Bear Bones didn’t deter you from coming. Anyway, the tapped casks are at the rear of the cellar. Enjoy!”

The party was the kind of subdued chaos you would expect to find behind the scenes at any workplace full of high stress situations. Raucous voices and music echoed throughout the cellar, but never loudly enough to carry up the staircase to the corridors above.

Across the dark expanse of the cellar eyes rose to meet me. Guardsponies and housekeepers alike were gathered around folding card tables and whatever other surfaces they could find to rest a drink upon. After assessing me and recognizing me as one of the help they continued on with their previous conversations unperturbed.

Bear Bones was essentially the only other pony employed here that I knew well and I didn’t see him here, so I immediately headed to the back where the drinks were. I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. The only real parties I had been to in my life were for various milestones in the filming of Equestrian Wilderness. Everyone at those events already knew of me, so I had no need to be gregarious.

Several cask rows back from the seating area several ponies I recognized from the housekeeping staff had tapped one of the cider casks and were pouring drinks at a makeshift bar. They had procured quite a large pile of wooden tankards in which to serve the cider. I didn’t know how many tankards the castle had in its kitchen inventory, but anypony would have noticed that many missing.

It was no wonder the princesses knew of the party.

Never one to fool around with cider involved I downed three quarters of my first tankard and immediately refilled it before heading off to find somewhere to sit. With my stomach already empty from my meager supper I felt the effect of the alcohol fairly quickly.

With my tankard precariously between my teeth I crossed the cellar between several of the rows of casks. I was nearly to a particularly comfortable looking stack of crates when suddenly the music cut out.

“Well buck me sideways, is that Mossy Hooves I spy?”

The voice over the speakers nearly made me jump out of my skin, and more importantly almost made me drop my cider. I hadn’t realized there was anyone actually behind the music, let alone who knew my name.

“You keep your flank right there, I’m coming down.”

Only by the sound of annoyed ponies complaining as somepony shoved past them did I identify a makeshift DJ table several rows back in the cellar. I quickly began searching my memory for anyone I knew at the castle who had any kind of musical inclination.

It was a short list; fortunately it didn’t matter.

“No bucking way. Vinyl Scratch?”

Even in the dimly lit cellar the purple shades pushing through the crowd were unmistakable. How she navigated through the dark in them was truly a mystery, but I was too thrilled to see her to worry about it.

“Ah, no no. It’s DJ Pon3 while I’m working, stallion.” She chided, barely giving me a chance to put my drink down before she wrapped me in a bone crushing hug. “What the buck are you doing in Canterlot, much less a terrible wanna-be rave at the castle?”

I couldn’t help but lose myself laughing for a moment at her fairly apt description of the party.

“I’ve been living here for months now. What are you doing DJing a terrible wanna-be rave at Canterlot castle?” I shot back. “Why aren’t you back in Ponyville hounding some poor unsuspecting fool on your show?”

The DJ scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes.

“You know what? Nopony is dancing to anything I’ve been spinning tonight anyway, I’m going to go set a playlist and we can talk. I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”

Fifteen minutes later Vinyl Scratch and I were stowed away at a small folding card table near the far side of the cider cellar, though still within line of sight of the turntable. It would have been against the castle employee code of conduct for anyone to hire the DJ for an unsanctioned party, therefore they had offered to pay her in free drinks from the casks and two bottles of high quality tequila.

The latter of which she had elected to crack open already.

I tried to refuse the unicorn’s offer to partake in the foul golden liquor, but she struck to the heart of the matter by questioning my stallionhood. I couldn’t let her show me up in front of my coworkers; even if it meant dealing with the inevitable killer hangover.

“You sure you can hang?” The mare dared to ask after the first three shots went down. “I mean, there is more than a hoof-full of the royal guard in here. I can have them escort you home if you don’t think you can keep up.”

“Mare please!” I shot back, snatching the bottle away from her to set up the next round of shots. “I’m one third Scotspony on my father’s side. I’ve only met a few earth ponies who could out-drink me, let alone a unicorn.”

She looked irritated by my insinuation.

“But at least we can both agree that we can both out-drink any pegasus in the castle, am I right?”

“Hey!”

A pegasus guard at a nearby table shot us a dirty look which only served to send us both into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. By the time we both settled down Vinyl Scratch looked like she had something on her mind.

"So how come you never responded to any of my letters after the last time we spoke at the hospital?" Her tone of voice sharply contrasted the playful attitude she'd been sporting before.

I paused for a moment; my alcohol addled mind trying to process her question with the seriousness she had asked it.

"Vinyl, I haven't heard a word from you for months." I licked my lips and downed the shot I had set for myself. "I kinda figured you wouldn't know I had wound up here, so I wrote you so you'd at least have my new address if you felt so inclined to stay in contact."

Her accusation stung me slightly and brought up some bitter feelings of my own. In the days after Nightmare Moon was destroyed for the second time I discovered that those ponies that had aligned themselves with me had not fallen victim to the memory re-write that the rest of Equestria had suffered as far as my life was concerned. Vinyl Scratch and Deputy Ironbars knew of my true past when no one else did.

When Vinyl had not answered my letters I assumed she had lost her interest in me. I was no longer associated with Atten Burro in this timeline and therefore no longer a topic of interest to be used in her radio show.

The DJ looked stymied for a moment, then followed my lead and took the shot I had set up for her. She cringed briefly as the potent liquor burned her throat, and then slammed the shot glass back down on the table in front of me.

"I don't know what to say, Mossy. I never got your letters... I think I know why though. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you really didn't get mine too, despite the fact that the mailmare in Ponyville assured me letters addressed to your house there were being forwarded to your new home."

The alcohol in my system quickly turned the bitterness I was feeling into guilt. We had both been mad at each other for the same reason when somehow neither of us was at fault.

I pressed my hooves against my face and dragged them around, mumbling incoherently before settling on the idea of pouring myself yet another drink. Before I could do so the DJ snatched the bottle from my reach with her magic.

"Speak your mind. Stallion up and just say your piece. Don't dawdle around like a filly or I'm just gonna go back up to the turntable."

Groaning loudly I clapped my forehooves together and forced myself to find my drunken resolve.

"This is going to sound dumb as Tartarus, but you are basically my only tie to my old life right now. I wouldn't risk that over something as trivial as a letter." I placed a hoof on top of the liquor bottle, not to take it back from her, but to just place it back on the table. "I never told you the details of what really happened that night in the Everfree. If I do that now will it make up for this crap?"

I don’t know how many shots or hours passed as the party progressed, but slowly and surely I spilled my guts to Vinyl Scratch. In my own drunken way I regaled to her the story of my fight with the incarnation of Nightmare Moon, and how I had been forced to make the decision to leave Golden Prose behind. Every minute detail from the point where I had left her behind at the radio station.

Vinyl Scratch for the most part sat in silence and listened, her expression inscrutable behind her shades. I had expected her to hound me with questions as if this was the interview I'd promised her long ago. Instead she waited patiently I was finished.

As if to wash the words from my palette I broke eye contact from the mare and took a swig of my cider. When I lowered my mug the expression on Vinyl's face had completely changed. A massive grin the likes of which I hadn’t seen for hours had appeared. It was a little disconcerting considering the less than pleasant story I'd just told.

"You're a big bucking hero, you know that?" She said, delighted in a drunken haze. "You're a big bucking hero and nopony has the faintest idea."

I cocked my head to the side, unsure if maybe I was missing something obvious about her statement. She had clearly missed the point I'd made about having no free will for my so-called heroics.

"When I first met you I couldn’t decide if you were a good stallion or just a giant self-centered ass. I went with my gut and decided on the former. I'm glad to see I haven’t lost my touch."

I face-hooved internally. Even in my drunken state I should have known better than to spill my guts and have her understand it, let alone take it seriously.

"Oh okay, well as long as your internal compass still points the right direction. That’s the only thing that matters here." I rambled, clumsily reaching out for the tequila bottle.

In a flash the DJ's hoof was on mine. She let it linger softly for longer than may have been appropriate before letting me take the bottle. "Relax, hero." She smiled coyly. "There isn’t a mare here that wouldn’t be impressed by a story like that."

I felt my face flush and I tried to disguise it by taking another swig from the bottle.

Another hour or so passed and the party began to wind down. All but a hoof-full of ponies remained after the kitchen staff departed to return the borrowed tankards, effectively ending the drinking. Vinyl and I had mercifully switched to lighter topics of discussion; mostly social commentary on the upper class of Canterlot.

I was in the middle of a tirade about the owner of a local coffee shop when the DJ abruptly cut in.

"Get your flank in gear, hero. You're coming home with me tonight." She stated plainly with a wink, setting off towards her turntable in an unsteady gait.

I blinked several times as the words processed in my mind. Before I even realized what I was doing I was on my hooves and fast after the blue-maned mare. I would never be drunk enough to miss a come on like that.

"Pretty damned forward of you, eh?" I grinned smugly as I stood beside the mare while she packed her equipment into a pair of saddlebags. "Didn’t realize you missed me that much."

The DJ let out an uncharacteristically feminine giggle and paused just long enough to run a hoof flirtatiously under my chin.

"Don’t get your hopes up, stallion. I didn't make a single bit tonight and I'm not going to pay for another carriage to haul my stuff home when I’ve got you to help me carry it instead."

My drunken ego popped like a stuck balloon. The pegasus guard I'd laughed at earlier was within earshot and snickered intentionally loudly enough for me to hear him. I shot him a dirty look before unceremoniously slinging one of the saddlebags onto my back.

Fifteen minutes later Vinyl Scratch had deposited her guest identification coin with an on-duty guard and the two of us emerged onto the streets of Canterlot. We trotted toward a small area in the western part of the city colloquially known as the Griffin District. I had been there several times in my old life to eat at some of the city's higher end restaurants, but I had not been back there since the Ponyville incident.

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked finally. I'd been expecting to help her to either the train station or a hotel, neither of which were in this direction.

The mare kept her pace without looking back at me as she spoke. "My place. Where else?" She replied as if I'd just asked something ridiculously obvious.

I was still coherent enough to know that was a line of questioning I should have continued, but the walk had brought me to the point in my intoxication where I just wanted to find the first available place to fall asleep. Vinyl Scratch had a place in Canterlot, and that was good enough for me at the moment.

Eventually we came to a small strip of townhouses nestled between two shop fronts. They seemed relatively nice, but between the darkness and the fallen snow it was hard to tell. Vinyl waved me towards the house in the center and I trotted quickly to her side as she stopped to unlock the front door.

The interior of the house was pitch black. I took just a few steps inside before stopping, waiting for the mare to hit the lights. Instead the door slammed shut behind me, casting me into utter darkness. I heard the DJ's saddlebags hit the hardwood floor and I turned to say something.

It was not to be.

Before I could get a syllable out a pair of lips clumsily mashed into mine in an intense and barely accurate kiss. Though slightly taken aback, I was alcohol fueled enough to return the kiss until the mare pulled away.

In the dark I could hear her exhale loudly as if she'd been holding her breath before she spoke.

"I... have been waiting to do that since we left that bucking party."

My eyes finally began to adjust to the dark and I could see that she had removed her trademark shades for the first time tonight. I also watched in delight as she turned and tripped directly over the saddlebags she had cast aside only seconds ago. All the poise she had exhibited throughout the evening evaporated in an instant as she landed in a pile on the floor of her own home.

"Easy there, DJ Pon3." I chuckled playfully, ditching my own saddlebags and wobbling over to the fallen mare. "Gotta keep those bifocals on or who knows what you'll end up kissing next."

Vinyl rolled onto her back and swung a hoof blindly through the air where she must have imagined my face to be. "It's Vinyl Scratch to you right now, mister. Now help a mare up."

Sidestepping her saddlebags I leaned down to the mare, but rather than giving her the helping hoof she wanted I pressed my lips against hers for a more proper kiss. She gasped slightly at first, her eyes having not adjusted to the dark as quickly as mine, but after the initial start she leaned upward in reciprocation.

“Bastard…” She whispered quietly with a smile as I finally helped her back to her hooves.

“Guilty as charged.”

The room finally illuminated as Vinyl Scratch magically switched on the overhead light fixture. I found myself in the narrow entryway of a home that oozed antiquated charm much in the way my own did. As we trotted further into the house I could see that she had similarly been unsuccessfully at disguising the building’s age by filling it with modern furnishings.

Everything seemed much cleaner than I remembered Vinyl’s radio station being. The stark contrast registered ever so briefly in my intoxicated mind and made me wonder why she was living here.

Before I could dwell on it a hoof slapped me gently in the ribs.

“Be a gentlecolt and stash my bags in the living room.” The mare purred, trotting past me. “Then come find me.”

With a quick wink over her shoulder she disappeared down the hallway to where I presumed her bedroom to be.

Like a bat out of Tartarus I rushed back to the front door, snatched the saddlebags straps in my teeth, and dragged them to the living room. Momentarily oblivious to the possible delicate nature of their contents I roughly shoved them under the coffee table.

My task accomplished, I quickly followed the path the mare had taken, pausing only long enough to do a quick sniff-test of my own breath. It was, of course, unpleasant from all the alcohol I’d consumed. The mare hadn’t minded so far tonight, so I hoped she wouldn’t suddenly notice now.

The only open door in the hallway led to a room with the lights off. The hallway had been dimly lit just enough by the ambient light of the living room to rob my eyes of their adjustment to the dark. It would have been enough to give me cause for hesitation if not for the alcohol and hormones.

I slowly crept into the room, the transition from hardwood to carpet masking my arrival.

“Vinyl?” I spoke up somewhat tentatively.

There was no reply.

I stayed where I was several steps into the room, waiting for my eyes to adjust. A bed and several dressers slowly formed out of blobs in the darkness. Then came a sight that I couldn’t help but smirk at. Records. Stacks of them. They were everywhere, just like first time I’d seen her room in Ponyville.

Emboldened by the familiarity I trotted further into the room and spied the mare in question on the bed. She was sprawled the wrong way across the bed in a way less sexy than I’d initially envisioned.

With a sly smile on my face I crept around to where her face nearly hung from the side of the bed. If she noticed my approach she didn’t show it. Her eyes were closed and her breath was steady even as I held my face a hairs breadth from hers.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type to play asleep and vulnerable…” I whispered into her ear, grazing my lips against it gently.

Her ear twitched slightly at the touch, but she gave no response. She was either waiting for something else or she genuinely was asleep. Given the short time we’d been apart I wagered on the former.

I leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips, waiting for some kind of response. Unfortunately none came. She really was asleep.

My face scrunched up in confusion as I sat back on my haunches. From the looks of it she had flopped down on the bed to get something out of the bedside table, closed her eyes for a moment, and promptly passed out.

“Story of my life…” I whispered under my breath, now more concerned with not waking her and possibly incurring her wrath. “Sleep tight, Vinyl.”

As gently as I could manage I tugged the top blanket free from the bottom of the bed and tucked it up over the mare. She wiggled slightly but didn’t wake.

After several minutes of unmotivated wandering around the living room I managed to find a small throw blanket and the light switch. I cast the room back into darkness and flopped unceremoniously on the couch. Clumsily I fumbled for one of the throw pillows and smashed my face into it.

Like the DJ I was out before I could even get comfortable.

Author's Note:

Yes I know this story isn't great so far. Yes I also know I am terrible at writing even vaguely sexytiems.