Talk Less, Smile More
THURSDAY AFTERNOON: 14:40 HOURS
“Aw, come on!” In case nopony had heard her, Sunny Daze shuffled her hooves in the grass and whined even louder. “C’mooooooooooooooon! What’s taking so long?”
“Yeah, you’ve been in there for like, a month and a half or something!” Peachy Pie poked at the curtain while her classmates murmured their agreement.
Oh, I have not, you exaggerator. It’s been fifteen… Silver Spoon checked her watch. Okay, twenty-two minutes.
Outside, more hooves pressed against the red curtain billowing against the grass. Silver edged farther into the voting booth until her back pressed against the wall. Thank goodness Truffle Shuffle suggested that privacy curtain. Nopony could even see her hooves in here.
“Are we sure somepony’s even in there?” asked Tornado Bolt. “Maybe somepony closed the booth by accident.”
Cotton Cloudy hummed. “Can’t be. Listen, you can hear somepony moving.”
“Well, whoever it is, they’re even slower than Snails.”
“Yeah, they’re even slower than m—hey!”
“No offence, buddy.”
Silver couldn’t hold out much longer. Eventually, somepony with brains would suggest a headcount and smoke out the culprit by process of elimination. When they figured it out, somepony with a bone to pick—Pinch or a Crusader, probably—would start throwing accusations of vote tampering. At the very least, they’d demand an explanation.
I think I’d prefer the false accusation. Silver curled in a ball, her chin on her hooves.
Hooves clapped for attention. “Alright, alright, settle down, everypony!” An island of reason and fairness, Miss Cheerilee’s voice rose above the commotion. “This is an election, not a mob. Featherweight, get away from that curtain. You too, Sweetie Belle.”
The noise died down.
Cheerilee waited a moment, then continued. “Now, if one of you still needs to vote, we still have an alternate voting booth inside, or you can always give your vote directly to me. If you haven’t, you’d better get a move on, there’s not long left. Otherwise, we can all wait quietly and let the democratic process take its course. Until the polls close, ponies can take all the time they need to vote.”
“They don’t gotta hog the booth for ten hours, Miss Cheerilee,” argued Berry Pinch. “If they have to think about it, why can’t they think about it out here?”
The mob cried out in agreement.
“She’s right!”
“That pony’s had enough time!”
“What if it’s not a pony in there at all? What if it’s a Yakyaksitanian spy?”
“How long does it possibly take to check a box?”
“Democracy is a sham!”
Cheerilee waved them down. “Well, I know that rushing them won’t make them vote any faster—whoever it is.” She clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “But if you need something to pass the time before the polls close, we could always have a pop quiz…?”
Instant silence. Hooves shuffled away, some foals still muttering about conspiracies and ponies taking too long.
After a heartbeat, Cheerilee’s muzzle poked through the curtain. “Silver Spoon?” When no answer came, she eased her head into the booth. “Are you okay in here?”
Silver Spoon wiped off a blade of grass stuck to her wet cheek. She nodded without looking up.
“Have you voted yet?”
Silver shook her head.
“Okay, take your time. You still have fifteen minutes before the polls close. I’ll keep watch out here.” The curtain fell back into place.
Silver Spoon rose and shook herself off. She approached the ballot, eying the red marker next to it.
Four options. One marker. One anonymous decision.
The mob’s right. This ought to be easy. Silver rubbed the sore spot at the root of her braid. But a lot of things aren’t the way they ought to be…
MONDAY AFTERNOON. 12:00 HOURS
Autumn air brushed through the schoolhouse window. A maple leaf, golden as a pocketful of bits, fluttered across Cheerilee’s desk, danced over Featherweight’s chair, and breezed past Dinky’s desk until it finally landed in Silver Spoon’s tail.
Silver Spoon didn’t notice. She didn’t dare tear her gaze away from Diamond Tiara.
Placid and expressionless, Diamond’s eyes raced down page after page of the new speech. Her mouth pinched and twisted, silently testing the words on her tongue. Ten minutes into reading and not a word, a scowl, or an ear twitch.
No news was good news, but if this went on any longer, Silver would need to see a dentist about her clenched teeth.
The shuffling papers paused a moment. “Hm.” A faint blue number marked the top corner of the page: the speech’s midpoint. Diamond must have cycled through the whole thing twice. She set the papers down and steepled her hooves. Her eye never left the page. “‘A diamond is perfection’… that comes up five times in this thing. Is it supposed to be my slogan?”
“More like a refrain. Repetition helps it stick.” Silver angled her neck to check for eavesdroppers by the window. “The opening speech needs to last through the whole afternoon, maybe the whole day, and the polls don’t close until the bell rings at three. Even if everypony forgets the small stuff, they’ll remember the main thing.”
With Miss Cheerilee so enthused by her classroom’s newfound interest in politics, all signs pointed to either a postponement of official classes or calling a half-day in favor of an “active learning” day. The same thing happened when she’d taken everypony on a tour of White Tail Woods for their ecology unit. That also meant that everypony would have more time to vote, and more importantly reconsider that vote.
“But yeah, it’s pretty much the campaign slogan. I also rhymed it a couple of times to help it stick even more.”
Diamond nodded with a yawn. “Yeah, ‘it’s natural selection’. I saw that.” She didn’t smile, but ambition sparkled in her eyes. “I like it, Silver Spoon. I like it a lot.” Yet, she said it like a tax report.
As a young lady ought, Silver smiled. “Good, glad you like it, Di.” She tilted her head while Diamond yawned again. “Are you feeling alright? It’s a couple days until showtime, and you’ve been kinda out of it.” Downright sluggish, in fact.
They should have met this morning before class, but according to Randolph, Diamond had decided to sleep in. Diamond Tiara had never slept in during a project before, not even when she’d stayed up half the night practicing dance moves.
Diamond’s head snapped up. Baggy eyes shadowed her scowl, and Silver braced for impact. It didn’t come. Diamond’s head lolled towards her desk with a dreary blink. “M’fine. A little tired. I didn’t sleep that great last night. We got back late, and then I kept having these weird dreams.”
“Huh. What about?”
Shaking herself off, Diamond straightened in her seat. Back in business at ninety percent capacity. Her eyes sloped in another sleepy squint. Okay, maybe sixty percent. “Something about the election… some stuff turned into other stuff… rats everywhere. I think you and Mom were in it, maybe? Luna, too. I remember that part most, it came towards the end.”
Silver Spoon pricked her ears. “Princess Luna? Did she say anything to you?”
The shadowed look returned. Diamond Tiara gripped the side of her desk and looked Silver Spoon in the eye for the first time that day. Her stare held all the desperation and hunger of a scholarship student during finals week. “She…” Diamond coughed into her hoof and let her gaze fall back to the speech. “Doesn’t matter; we don’t have time to waste on stuff that didn’t even happen. You ever get that straw poll finished?”
Alright, here we go. Deep breath, eyes forward, confident posture. Don’t sweat. You’re here to help.
“Yes, I did.” Silver pulled her notebook from her lap to the desk, one hoof on the top to keep it from being snatched. “Before I show you, though, you need to understand that—”
“Hey, there you are Silver Spoon!” Cotton Cloudy perched in the windowsill. Leaves and tiny bits of cloud tangled in her wind-tossed mane; she must have come back from sky tag or something. “Twist and Truffle Shuffle are looking for you. Something about student council, or…?” She shrugged and bit into a sugar cookie—probably her messenger fee. “I dunno, I forgot, but it sounded important.”
Setting up for the next student pony president, Silver supposed. With interest in student government at a record high, Truffle expected more ponies coming into the council soon, too. “Alright, tell them I’ll—”
“You should tell them that Silver Spoon’s busy with my campaign right now. Obviously.” Diamond turned away from the window with a toss of her mane. “If you brushed that rat’s nest out of your face once in a while, maybe you could see that for yourself. Like, anypony with a brain and two eyes in their head could figure that out.”
For a filly who worked with rainclouds, Cotton Cloudy shot the driest look this side of Dodge City. “Yeah, well, anypony with ears could tell I wasn’t talking to you. Guess it’s hard to hear when your head’s stuffed so far up your butt.”
Diamond slammed both hooves on the desk and whipped around. “I wouldn’t be talking if I were you Cloudy, because I’M not the one who—”
“This afternoon!” Silver popped up between them, practically falling out of her chair to keep Cotton out of Diamond’s line of sight. “I can meet them this afternoon after class, but I’m a little busy right now.”
The waters churned harder. “Uh, I dunno if it slipped your mind, Silver Spoon, but you’re busy this afternoon, too. We’ve got election prep, remember?”
“But wait, I thought—then what are we doing here?” In the corner of Silver’s eye, Cotton’s feathers flared, still raring to fight if Diamond would give her one. And Diamond would. “I thought we were in the middle of election prep stuff right now.”
“No, this is us doing what we should have done this weekend.” Diamond Tiara thought about it, then frowned. “Actually, no, this is what we should have done like, four days ago, but somepony fumbled my speech and had to rewrite it. Sheesh, no wonder we’re so far behind!”
So much for student council today, then. “Tell them I’ll try and get to them before lunchtime tomorrow, if I can’t get there before then. Oh!” Silver waved before Cotton Cloudy turned away. “Apologize to Truffle and Twist for me too, please?”
Cotton shrugged. “Sure.” With one last dirty look for Diamond, she shook the leaves out of her mane and left.
One pink ear turned towards the creaking windowpane as Cotton pushed off. “We need to do something about that.”
“Yes we do,” said Silver Spoon. “And soon. Di, listen…” Now or never. She wouldn’t get a prime opening like this again. “The polls aren’t good.”
The storm clouds darkened.
Silver kept her cool. “In fact, if I’m being honest, the polls are terrible, and it’s all because of stuff like what you pulled just now with Cotton. Do you realize how much voter influence she has? If you want any hope of winning this thing—”
“IF?!” Diamond Tiara spat the word like moldy oats. A dash of panic lurked beneath the outrage. Good, she ought to be panicked. “Are—are you actually saying you don’t think I’ll win?”
Yes. “That isn’t what I said.” Don’t push too hard. Reel it in slow. “It’s only that I think your more…” Silver’s hoof twisted through the air, searching for the right word. “…assertive qualities might be giving off the wrong impression. Ponies vote for appeal, and biting heads off isn’t that appealing, you know?” She smiled. “I think it might be better if you, like… talked less and smiled more.”
Diamond’s posture relaxed, though the skies hadn’t cleared yet. “I know how to win a contest, Silver Spoon.” The words rattled under her breath. It didn’t sound like a whisper or a grumble, but something else. A hairline crack in Diamond’s voice. “I do. I’ve done it fifty-six times.”
Concerned, Silver leaned forward. “Diamond, I think we need to reconsider our strategy, that’s all. Our conditions changed, so it’s time to adapt.” Her hooves clasped inches from Diamond’s, but didn’t reach out to them. “I’m not just your campaign manager, I’m still your friend, too. I want to help you win.”
“Yeah, well.” Diamond Tiara locked Silver Spoon under her gaze and held her there. “First time for everything, I guess.”
Silver drew back. “Diamond, that… that’s not true and it’s not fair. I’ve helped you with almost every project you’ve had since I moved here, haven’t I? From the talent show to now, all I’ve done is try to help you win.”
“Right, and we came home from that talent show empty hooved. We lost to a joke act, Silver.” She went back to reviewing the speech. The papers wrinkled in Diamond’s tight grip. “An accidental joke act. And who suggested we perform a boring opera nopony in town ever heard of?”
“But Diamond, I—”
“I know, Silver, you tried. Everypony tries. Winners succeed. When’s the last time you did that?” She didn’t sound angry. Somehow, that made it worse. Diamond didn’t look up, though her ears drooped several inches. “When’s the last time either of us succeeded?”
Silver toyed with the pearls around her neck. High above them, laughter echoed down from a game of air tag. It sounded like Featherweight was It.
“Look. I’ll think about what you said.” Diamond sank into her chair, waving a limp hoof. “Go meet the dork and the butterball. I’m fine here.”
“What about election prep this afternoon?”
“I think I want to do that tomorrow, instead. My house at three.”
“Got it, Di.” Silver zipped up her saddlebag. “I’ll be there.”
“You better.”
TUESDAY MORNING: 07:05 HOURS
The house thumped and thrashed like a washing machine full of cinderblocks. Silver Spoon wouldn’t envy the neighbors if this house had any; she felt the vibrations underhoof from over a block away. It had to have been a custom-built place, but looking at it, Silver swore that a construction team just stapled a nightclub and a bank together and told them to be a house. Two foals crammed in a turtleneck sweater had more symmetry.
Wonder which side Pipsqueak lives in. Silver tilted her head at the banklike half. Octavia’s, I bet. Thankfully, the house only had one door, so she didn’t have to risk a guess. After a last-second note review, Silver reached up and rang the bell. Can anypony even hear it over all that racket?
The racket stopped as if it had heard her.
A yawning Vinyl Scratch opened the door, squinting through bleary red eyes. Without her shades, the unicorn’s face seemed half-finished. Blasts of mane plastered against her face like an exploded blueberry, with little strands poking into her mouth. Vinyl lifted a headphone from her ear and nodded to the filly on her doorstep.
“Good morning, Miss Vinyl Scratch.” Silver glanced from the sleepy eyes to the open Neighponese kimono draped over Vinyl’s withers. “Sorry if I woke you up.” Had she gone to sleep with those headphones on? “Did Pipsqueak leave for school yet? I need to talk with him, please.”
Miss Scratch nodded with a drowsy smile and waved her in. Before closing the door, she double-checked the road, as if expecting more foals to come barging in.
The house’s interior matched the façade perfectly: two separate spaces split down the middle. Silver noticed the orderly half, lined with bookshelves along the walls and with clean stacks of music sheets upon the coffee table, was absent one cello. Miss Octavia would be taking her Earl Grey (one lump, no lemon, and a splash of cream) at Tealove’s about now.
Vinyl led Silver Spoon through the snaking wires, discarded energy drink cans, and towering recording equipment on her side of the house until they came to a small door in the wall.
Silver adjusted her glasses, examining what appeared more like a cupboard or a crawl space than a little colt’s room. “In there?”
The unicorn nodded.
“But that’s a basement.” Spiders and roaches and creepy noises lived in basements. Silver still hadn’t dared go into hers.
Vinyl nodded again.
Two strings of Hearth’s Warming lights lit a narrow stairwell sloping down into the bowels of the house. Silver’s nose twitched at the scent of pizza crusts, sweat, and filthy socks. Yeah. That’s a colt’s room, alright. “Thank you, I can take it from here.”
Halfway down the stairs, Silver Spoon hesitated. Maybe it’d be better to get Diamond Tiara for this after all. She IS his actual opponent. A goodwill gesture went only so far on somepony else’s behalf. It wouldn’t be too late to go back and get her.
No. No, nothing could come of it unless they aimed to talk Pip out of the running or into a surrender, neither of which would happen. Besides, Mr. Rich said Di needed her sleep and Diamond herself seemed like she needed space.
That said, it still felt weird being in the opposition’s house without her. Especially in this dark, narrow hallway. I’m already halfway there. I might as well. Natural light bloomed at the bottom of the stairs. I’ll give her the rundown this afternoon.
Before Silver reached the bottom stair, a shadow slid into the sunlight. It didn’t have Pip’s stubby ears or shrimpy silhouette. Something sat atop the shadow’s head, tall and pointed like a crown or a pair of horns. Or a bow.
Horseapples. Silver gritted her teeth.
Apple Bloom stood in the doorway, smiling like a fruit bat who got the fig. “Well lookie here who showed up.” Her grin grew as Silver’s frown soured. “Mornin’ Silver Spoon. How y’all doin?”
“Oh, um.” Silver cleared her throat. “Good morning, Apple Bloom. I’m having a lovely morning, thank you for asking. What are you doing here?” Stupid question. Nopony grinned like that unless they’d sprung a trap.
“We could ask you the same thing.” Scootaloo lounged in a beanbag chair, munching a breakfast bar. She had her filthy hooves propped up on a milk crate. “Me and Apple Bloom are Pipsqueak’s campaign managers.” She rolled off the beanbag and hit the floor with a hard clack. “What’s your excuse?”
No sign of Sweetie Belle, but that didn’t surprise Silver much. She would have softened the attack, if she were here.
Despite her efforts for peace, Silver Spoon had to face the most unfortunate fact that truce or no truce, connected or unconnected, nothing in the universe mitigated the immensity of Scootaloo’s big stupid mouth. If any justice remained in the world, the Crusaders’ political careers ended at the election and they wouldn’t follow Pip into the student council.
“Hmph. I don’t need an excuse, Miss Scootaloo, I have my reasons.” Secretary Silver Spoon marched past the beanbag, casually taking in the décor. Pipsqueak had a taste for scary movie posters—no wonder The Dink liked him—and rock bands Silver never heard of.
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo shadowed her at the haunch.
Somepony ought to tell them they’re campaign managers, not bodyguards. Without looking back, she continued, “It’s customary to meet an opponent before you meet on the field. Haven’t you two ever heard of good sportsponyship?”
Apple Bloom flicked her tail. “In that case, shouldn’t it be Diamond Tiara over here, ‘stead of you?” She looked over Silver’s shoulder. “Where is she anyway?”
As a proper campaign manager with better things to do than answer stupid questions, Silver ignored her. “Good morning, Pipsqueak!” she called to the room. He had to be somewhere in this mess.
“Oh, ‘ello, Silver Spoon!” called a pile of laundry. The polo uniform slid to the side and Pip’s head surfaced over a hill of socks, ties, and ascots. A tartan sock flopped over his left shoulder. “Come to help me pick a tie for election day, did you?” He laughed at his own joke. “We were wond’ring when you’d stop by. Welcome to my room! Sorry ‘bout the mess.”
Silver pulled up an upturned trashcan for a makeshift chair, curling her tail upward and out of the clutter. She gave the room an innocent, neutral head tilt. “You were expecting me? Why?”
“’Cause Berry Pinch says you’re a sneak and Sweetie Belle says you’re desperate.” Apple Bloom’s nose twitched as if she could sniff out Silver’s scheme. Too bad for her, Silver Spoon stood upwind. “That could only mean that eventually one of y’all was gonna go try somethin’ sneaky.”
“And we were right! Here you are being a sneaky sneaking-type… sneaker!” Scootaloo zoomed in, buzzing centimeters above eye level. Silver’s bangs fluttered in the breeze of her wingbeats. “We know what you’re up to, so don’t even bluff!”
Silver Spoon placed her hooves in her lap and regarded the filly as she would a mildly interesting leaf. “Really. And what, exactly, am I up to, Miss Scootaloo?” She smiled.
“You’re…” The scruffy interrogator snapped her wings shut and dropped to the floor. “You’re trying to dig up dirt, so you can fight dirty at the debate this week.”
An immense amount of restraint held back a quip about how Scootaloo kicked up enough filth on her own. “Oh, dear. You’ve figured out my fiendish plan. The Cutie Mark Crusaders have beaten me again.”
With a toss of her mane, Silver turned back to Pipsqueak. “As I was saying, I wanted to shake hooves, be good sports, all that nicey-nice fair play stuff. No matter what happens this week, I’ll still be working with you, so we might as well get to know each other. If nothing else, I’d like to know what tea to bring to meetings.” Pip struck her as a Deerjeeling type of colt, or cardamom spiced chai—something exotic and adventurous.
“Tea?” Pipsqueak glanced at Silver’s cutie mark and smiled in understanding. “Oh, well, I usually have whatever Octavia’s having. Never quite thought about it much, but I never tried tea I didn’t like. I s’ppose I’ll like whatever you bring, as long as you don’t forget the biscuits. Or do you call them cookies over here?” He paused while his brain caught up to Silver’s earlier statement. “Wait, why would we still be working together if Diamond Tiara lost?”
In the peanut gallery, Scootaloo whispered, “And why would he be there if Diamond won?” Apple Bloom shrugged.
“Because I’m class secretary of course.” Silver glanced at Scootaloo, who’d already opened her mouth. “And no, you can’t vote me out.” Not until next spring, anyway. “Whoever comes in second gets to be vice president. Didn’t you guys know that?”
From their expressions, they clearly didn’t. That meant they likely didn’t know how the rest of the student government worked either. Silver filed that information away, just in case. “If the worst case scenario happens and Diamond loses—and she won’t—I’d like to know what I’m in for.”
The splotches on Pip’s face wrinkled in thought. He nodded to himself. “Makes sense to me.” He turned to Scootaloo, who still braced for another attack. “You know, I do remember Truffle saying something or other about you helping with a bake sale last year. A fundraiser for the new window, was it?”
“The gourmet bake sale, yes.” Silver Spoon couldn’t help preening a bit.
“Yeah, I remember that. Almost everypony in town came and I ate all those, um… what do call ‘em... petty-fors. Hey, d’you think you might help my plan to get some new playground equipment? Or putting in the arcade? Button really wanted one of those and I promised him I’d try to get one.”
“It’s not impossible,” said Silver Spoon. And it’s petit four.
Technically, Cheerilee assigning every foal a trip to Whinnyland for homework wasn’t impossible either, but no more likely than the school getting an arcade. A new slide or swing set might be doable, however. “We raised the money for the new window in a couple of weeks, I’m sure we could do something like that again.”
“New window, huh?” Apple Bloom sucked her teeth. “That wouldn’t be the stained glass one with Diamond Tiara plastered on it?”
Silver flicked her ears. “Uh.”
Okay, options. What are my options?
Obviously, she could tell the truth: admit the stained glass window had nothing to do with Silver or the council, and that Spoiled Rich donated it. However, that implied ineptitude on the student council’s (and Silver’s) part. Worse, it implied that Diamond already had her claws in student government. Diamond Tiara had enough real problems to fix without imaginary ones gumming up the works.
Or, Silver could move with the second option: dodge and press onward. “Apple Bloom, a window is a window. So long as it keeps the rain out, it doesn’t matter whose face is on it. Anyway, that—”
“Actually, I think I heard Miss Cheerilee say something about the school board helping with that window.” Scootaloo scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, they donated it or funded it or something?”
Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Well, if that don’t explain all of it. Best friend on the student council and her Ma headin’ the school board. No wonder Diamond Tiara thinks she can just walk in an’ be president.”
“Betcha that’s how she got to be editor of the paper, too,” put in Scootaloo.
Silver Spoon jumped up so fast the trashcan went sprawling in the laundry pile. “You shut up, that’s got nothing to do with it! Mrs. Rich wasn’t even in town when Diamond became editor for the Press, and Di barely knew I became secretary in the first place.”
Spoiled’s being on the school board might have greased some wheels, but if so, Di didn’t know about it. If she did, Diamond “only losers need to cheat” Tiara would have thrown a fit.
“And YOU can stop smirking like you played some winning trump card, Apple Bloom. Hmph, as if either of you even knew we had a student council until two weeks ago. I bet you don’t even know who our current president is!”
Pip raised his eyebrows, leaning over to his campaign managers. “I think you lot might have hit a nerve.”
He wasn’t wrong. A month of high-stakes and fraying friendships did no favors for Silver’s stress levels. Unchecked, that could lead to trouble. Silver Spoon took a breath. The candle flicker of her tail went still. “Call me crazy, but I don’t appreciate ponies bad-mouthing other ponies who don’t deserve it.”
Scootaloo glared. “Since when?”
“Uh, guys?” Pipsqueak waved his little hoof for attention. “I don’t think I want to go about spreading rumors.” His ears twitched out of synch, and he put a fetlock to his mouth. “It seems a little…mean. Do we know for sure if that’s how Diamond Tiara got to be editor?”
At least somepony in this room had some common decency. He’s fair, too. Shame the Crusaders undercut a real one-on-one with Diamond’s opponent. They might have gotten somewhere.
Her gaze lingered on the messy clipboard on a milk crate. More ideas for school improvement ran down the front page in two uneven columns, starting with new playground equipment, and ending with a longer lunchtime/recess proposal, a no-homework-until-June plan, and something called “Pudding Month”.
The colt still can’t plan for beans, though.
Dust flurried up from an old record collection as Scootaloo buzzed her wings. “I—” Second thoughts flickered across her face for a split second. “Fine, maybe we don’t know a hundred percent if that’s how she got to be editor. It probably is, though—I mean it’s Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. ‘Nuff said.”
Not enough for Pipsqueak. “I know those two aren’t very nice sometimes, but that doesn’t automatically mean Silver Spoon came over to be a cheater. At least, I don’t think so.”
“That’s ‘cause you haven’t been here that long, Pip.” Apple Bloom squinted at Silver Spoon, who shot back a sneer. “You’ve never been their target.”
Scootaloo’s undersized wings flared. “You’ve never been after something they want.”
Silver Spoon snorted and looked away.
“Diamond Tiara thinks the whole darn world belongs to her, and she wants to bowl over anypony in her way.” Apple Bloom glared at her, but it didn’t have much bite. “Sweetie Belle might see somethin’ decent in there, an’ maybe she’s right, but don’t y’all get fooled. Silver Spoon’s been Diamond’s lackey since the day she moved in. We might as well be talkin’ to Diamond’s butler.”
Silver Spoon clutched her pearls with an incensed gasp. “A butl—I—” She drew herself up and stamped her hoof. “How dare you!”
Scootaloo drank in Silver Spoon’s outrage like a tall glass of cider. “Sounds like somepony’s grouchy because she got found out.”
To think she ever tried to make peace with this pack of miscreants and hayseeds! To think she actually tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and think they’d act civilized for once! Why, she ought to…
Step back. Time and place, Silver; you don’t have the time and this isn’t the place. Step back. “Fine. It’s clear this is getting us nowhere.” Miss Sterling Silver Spoon gathered her dignity, brushed off her coat, and took the high road. She offered her hoof to Diamond’s political rival. “Nice talking to you, Pipsqueak. Good luck Thursday.”
Pip hopped up on a milk crate to meet her at eye level. He shook her hoof with a weak but steady grip. “Thanks, you too, Silver Spoon.” He had a gap tooth at the back of his smile. “Let’s all just try and have some fun, yeah? No ‘ard feelings?”
“No hard feelings, Pip.” At least Silver could promise that last part.
TUESDAY EVENING: 17:45 HOURS
“Oh.” Silver Spoon blinked. “It certainly is… something.”
As one, Spoiled Rich and Diamond Tiara turned to face her, both of them clearly expecting a continuation.
Normally, Silver Spoon could pull shallow praise out of her pocket without trying, but eventually everypony met their match. She looked again. There had to be something nice to say about this… thing. “The gems on the tiara add a nice splash of color to the stone. That’s, uh, granite, right?”
Diamond Tiara shrugged.
“Please. As if Diamond’s visage would ever touch something so common and rough as granite. That’s alright, dear, I suppose talent in appraisal doesn’t run in the family.” Spoiled Rich gave a soft, patronizing smile that flattened Silver’s ears. “This is the finest limestone Equestria has to offer. We wanted the platform engraved, but they said it wouldn’t be ready until Friday, and it’s far more important that it’s ready on time. We can always get a plaque later.”
“Oh. I see.” At least the whole thing wasn’t polished alabaster, and they’d chosen a subdued tannish color instead of Celestia-white.
Above them towered the sculpted limestone statue of Diamond Tiara sporting a game face frozen in time, confident and bold. Silver Spoon had to agree that the Riches had bought a beautiful representation of Diamond on one of her good days, but it wouldn’t stay beautiful for long. The weather and Ponyville’s parade of yearly disasters would wear down the finer details in a decade. In thirty years, nopony would know what pony stood on this platform at all.
Silver peered at the other sculptures on the showroom floor: cloudstone fish ponds, bronze Twilight Sparkles, a pair of interlocked soapstone swans, carnelian dragons, and jade seaponies with golden fins. None of them had price tags, because anypony who came here didn’t need to worry about price.
“It’s very imposing,” Silver said, for she’d gone too long without saying something, “but where’s it supposed to go? The front lawn? I don’t think there’s room in the backyard.”
“It’s not for the house.” Diamond Tiara examined her limestone clone and nudged her tiara higher on her head. “It’s for—and don’t spread this around—it’s for the school.”
Silver ducked out of the way while Mrs. Rich moved to discuss something with the clerk. “Our school?”
“No, Ponyville Community College.” Diamond rolled her eyes. “It’ll probably go in the back area, near the playground.” She sighed sadder than Silver expected. “There’s plenty of room there. Or, there will be soon.”
“After all the broken equipment’s cleared out.” Though it was impolite, Silver Spoon couldn’t help wrinkling her nose. Perhaps she hadn’t inherited Father’s gift for appraisal, but she guessed this monolith had at least a five-digit price tag. How many new swing sets could this thing have bought?
Diamond huffed under her breath. “I don’t know what you’re making that face for. You got an entire ballroom at your old school.”
You can’t dance in a statue. “Wisteria’s full of fancy buildings, Di. I’m not sure if our school is the ‘fancy statues’ type. We’re more about slides and battletag.” Though Silver still wasn’t totally clear what battletag entailed.
“Yeah, well…” Diamond lashed her tail and sat on a nearby bench. “Playground stuff is Pipsqueak’s plan, not mine.”
Silver flicked her tail with a derisive sniff. “Barely. Pip has an idea, not a plan, and it’s an idea literally anypony would have come up with if they looked at the school for two seconds. He moved on it first, that’s all.” She hopped up to join Diamond on the bench. “Listen, the colt’s likable, he’s popular, he’s athletic, and he’s got spunk for days—”
Diamond Tiara arched an eyebrow. “Is this supposed to be your idea of a pep talk?”
“—but Di, I guarantee you the second he gets into that chair, he won’t have a clue how to get that playground. This sort of thing is way above his head.” Above any foal’s head. The magnitude of a project like this would be out of anypony’s hooves. Anypony without connections or the means to use them, that is. “And you know, I can’t help but think…” Silver waved her hooves over the edge of the bench with an innocent smile.
Diamond pricked her ears, pretending not to smile back. “What?”
“Oh, I’m just thinking that a statue all by itself might get a little lonely.”
“So you’re saying instead it should be a playground centerpiece.” Diamond propped herself up by her forelegs, squinting at the statue. “I dunno, Silvie, it’d look sort of dumb next to regular old playground stuff.” The seed of an idea twitched in Diamond’s smile. “We shouldn’t replace the playground equipment. We should get better equipment!”
Silver Spoon scooted closer. “Like what?”
“For one thing, tetherball cords that don’t break every five seconds; they did that even before Tirek came to town. Oh, and you remember how the slide would get so hot in the summer it’d burn your coat off? We could fix that, too! Ooh, and merry-go-rounds that don’t creak and silk seats for the swings!”
“Wouldn’t silk seats get all messed up by rump sweat?”
“Details, Silver—oh! Silver Spoon, we could build a little um, uh… that thing that sits in gardens and stuff. No, shut up, don’t tell me.” Diamond turned in circles, trying to remember the word. “A gazebo!” she shrieked.
Silver winced and rubbed her ear. “For a playground?”
“Well, more like for us, so we finally have a real place to talk and have tea—no.” Diamond kicked her heels, leapt off the bench, and wheeled around with dozens of bright ideas shining in her eyes. “No, nope, uh-uh. A gazebo would have to be built far away. That’d take us out of the action, that’s no good.” She clicked her tongue, squinting at the crystal leaves clinging to a moonstone tree sculpture above her head. “What we need is high ground.”
“What, you mean like a watchtower?” Silver tilted her head. Not that she objected to some high-rise teatime, but it struck her as a little odd.
“No—well, kind of—but no, I mean we need to go bigger. We need to cover a bigger base.” The tip of Diamond’s tail gave a little squirrel-like twitch as she circled the tree statue. Diamond grinned wider than she had in days. “Think, Silver. What’s the one thing everypony likes to play on and also the one thing you can hang out at? Literally.”
Before Silver could answer, Diamond did it for her.
“A jungle gym! Oh, but not like those boring old monkey bars we used to have. I’m talking a four-story, fully climbable multifunctional playground experience with slides and ladders and stairs and those rope bridge things, and our fancy watchtower at the top—complete with telescope and an icebox—and we can add those zipline thingies Pinchy likes, and…” Diamond tapped her chin.
“We could have part of it underground, maybe?” suggested Silver Spoon. “The Dink would love that. When it rains, or it’s too hot outside, foals could still go out and play. We could have landing pads for the pegasus ponies, too.”
“Right, and you and me could have our watchtower-slash-gazebo-slash-teahouse at the top, where we could see all the action!”
That all sounded a little chaotic for teatime, but it certainly beat having tea indoors or on the splintery picnic tables. “It’s also just the thing to attract new voters.” Silver Spoon grinned. If Diamond Tiara showed half this gusto on Thursday, maybe this election wouldn’t be a total wash after all. If she could get everypony else on board with this idea, maybe—just maybe—they might even win.
“Probably. I mean, I’d vote for it.” Diamond waved her hooves, drawing out imaginary blueprints. “Oh, and what about when winter comes? Imagine the snowball fights!”
“And imagine the lawsuits when somepony inevitably does something stupid and breaks their neck.” Spoiled Rich idly blinked at the moonstone tree, unimpressed. How long had she been standing there? “Because I guarantee that’s what will happen. A metal construction taller than the schoolhouse, full of rambunctious little children? That’s a hospital visit waiting to happen. If not worse.”
Silver Spoon exchanged a frown with Diamond Tiara. “Well,” Silver offered, “maybe we could put in some safety features?”
“Such as?” Mrs. Rich didn’t seem surprised that Silver Spoon couldn’t answer her. “Besides, a foal’s job at school is to learn, not…” She wrinkled her exceptionally pointed nose. “…zipline. Honestly, Diamond Tiara, you need to be realistic. We’re not daydreaming here; these decisions have real-life consequences.”
“I understand, Mother, but—” Diamond sighed in frustration. “Well, what if we downsized it a little? I mean, it’s, like, not even a blueprint yet, right?”
Silver nodded her encouragement. “Maybe we could ask somepony like Mr. Hard Hat for suggestions?”
Mrs. Rich shook her head with a little sigh. “Honestly Diamond Tiara, after all the work we’ve done and all your father’s told you about finance, you ought to know better. A project like that would hemorrhage money the school board doesn’t have. The schoolhouse would be in debt for moons.”
“Okay… well…” Diamond tried to hold on to her idea, but under Mrs. Rich’s gaze, her enthusiasm drained like water through a sieve. “Maybe if we asked for donations or for some help from Princess Twilight…”
“Is being student pony president the princess’s job or is it yours, Diamond?”
Diamond’s tail swept between her legs. “It’s mine, but I thought it might, you know… get more votes.”
“By piggybacking off the piebald immigrant’s plan?” Mrs. Rich dismissed it with a wave of her jeweled hoof. “Diamond, no filly in Equestria has your raw charisma and leadership skills. This sort of thing’s right in your wheelhouse. A little school election should be an easy win, right?”
Diamond nodded. “Right.”
Mrs. Rich nodded, satisfied, and led them out the door. “There we are. Come along girls, it’s nearly sunset, we need to head home.” She sighed again. “I don’t know where you get these ideas sometimes.” Her eyes met Silver Spoon’s.
Silver edged close to Diamond and averted her gaze. They walked home in silence.
By the time they approached the brass gates of the Rich residence, the reds and violets of sunset climbed into the sky. One by one, little spotlights in the grass lit their path to the door.
“Silver Spoon, you’re a party pony, right? That means you know almost everypony in school.”
Silver braced against a chilly shot of autumn air. “Except for a few of the younger new kids, yeah.” They crossed the threshold into the house. Out of the corner of her eye, Mrs. Rich broke off to speak with Randolph. “What about it?”
“Nothing about it.” Diamond paused at the dining room door and nudged the door open. “Hi, Dad.”
Mr. Rich and a small militia of his employees gathered around the long dinner table plastered with pie charts, files, forms, folders, and dozens of Hearths Warming sale ads. He smiled and twitched his ears in his daughter’s direction. “Morning, Diamond.”
A mare dotted in freckles gestured toward the hall. “I think it’s evening now, sir.”
“What? But we only just—” Mr. Rich blinked at the sunset and long shadows in the hallways. “Oh, so it is, Peppercorn. Say, did we ever hear anything back from our Hollow Shades branch about the new…”
Diamond closed the door behind her. “So, if you know everypony in school, that means you know a lot of secrets about everypony in school, right?” She turned towards Silver Spoon, but her gaze moved over Silver’s head and into the dim War Room across the hall. “I bet most ponies want those secrets to stay secret.”
“Diamond, I don’t think that’s the best way to—”
“Silver Spoon.” Diamond rubbed her hoof through her bangs with a groan. “It’s been a long day. Can you just give me a straight answer for once? Please?”
“Yes. I’ve got dirt on everypony.” If not dirt, then information that could be twisted until it became dirt. “But you’re already on thin ice with the voters, Diamond. Do you really want to run a campaign based on blackmail and threats?”
Diamond pressed against the doorway of the War Room, staring at the darkened skylight at the top. She left the lights off. “Funny, you didn’t have a problem with blackmail before.” Shadows curled in the crooks of the banners and played along the glistening trophy cups. Sunlight skimmed across the steel tiara. It glowed a dull, wounded red. “If I remember right, it was your idea.”
Silver joined Diamond at the shoulder. “Yes, and it was a bad idea.”
“But an idea that will work.” In the back of the War Room, thirty-eight pageant crowns twinkled in the lights of their display case. “I’m not a loser, Silver Spoon.” She clenched her teeth hard. “I’m not.”
Mrs. Spoiled Rich reached over the fillies’ heads and pulled the door shut. “No, of course you’re not.” She reached a hoof around Diamond’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Not now, not ever. Don’t believe anypony who tells you different.”
“I know.” Diamond nodded and puffed her chest, resolute and trembling. “Because there aren’t any losers under this roof, right, Mother?”
Spoiled Rich smiled and untangled strands of mane out of the tiara tiers. “Not a single one, Diamond Tiara.” She laughed—a short, breezy sound. “And just think: this little election will put your best hoof forward for even bigger and better things. Ivy Leaf colleges, law schools, maybe even a mayoral election. Or Celestia’s parliament!”
“Parliament?” A small smile twitched on Diamond’s face. It grew. “You really think I could?”
“If you keep it together and play your cards right, I know you could. Knowing you, maybe even further.” Mrs. Rich laughed again. “Now, doesn’t that all sound so much more exciting than another beauty pageant?”
Diamond glanced at the closed door behind her. “Uh. Sure it does.”
WEDNESDAY EVENING: 17:00 HOURS
Boysenberry took a long drag of her elderberry blend, both to get the full flavor of the tea and to stall while she tried to remember her next interview question. “So, Miss Cheerilee says the council’s got their first school board meeting this Friday.”
Cheerilee had told the school no such thing; she’d likely complained to somepony about it while Boysenberry hovered in the backdrop.
Silver Spoon nodded. “Yep. Hopefully Truffle Shuffle will be feeling better by then.” He’d picked a fine time for a tonsillectomy. Silver didn’t fancy the thought of facing the school board without reliable backup. “We’ll need all the ponies we can get to back up the new student pony president.”
“No matter who wins tomorrow, you and Diamond Tiara are probably gonna be there. Are you nervous?”
Silver walked a tightrope holding her cards close while also giving an interview that didn’t need spicing up. She watched the reporter’s notebook, but couldn’t decipher the messy mouthwriting from the other side of the tea table. Boysenberry’s articles told the truth, but a juicier version of it. Featherweight ran the Foal Free Press honestly, not stupidly.
“Oh, absolutely!” Silver stirred her tea with nonchalance. “I always get butterflies before a big event; that’s part of being a pony, you know? It’s a good thing, I think.” She smiled as Boysenberry’s ears pricked. “There’s a reason ponies get nervous; it’s how we stay alert and stay alive. It means I’m awake and ready to go to work, and there’s plenty of work to do. We’re expecting a huge turnout tomorrow. Anything else?”
“Just one.” Boysenberry rolled her pen in her teeth with an anticipatory grin. “There’s been a lot of rumors about you and Diamond Tiara lately. Sources say you’re on the rocks. Others say the presidential hopeful is turning into a total butt trumpet blowing hot air out of her butt and you’re only putting up with it because if you don’t she’ll feed your fish to her cat. Any truth to that?”
“First of all, Diamond Tiara doesn’t have a cat and never will; her mother’s allergic.” Silver Spoon laughed it off. “Second of all, all best friends get tense every now and then, and everypony reacts to stress differently.” She leaned forward and steepled her hooves toward the teapot. “No, Boysenberry, Diamond and I are not on the rocks; it’s smooth sailing from here to the presidency, and you can quote me on that.”
Boysenberry sipped her tea.
“By which I mean, quote me on that.” Silver fixed Boysenberry with a hard stare. “Right now would be good.”
“Oh! Oh, right.” The filly quickly scribbled the last few lines and flipped her notebook closed. “M’kay, I gotta go home for dinner before my daddy gets worried. Featherweight says we’ll publish this, um… at lunchtime?”
“I’ll walk you to the door.” Silver followed close behind. It manifested as innocent curiosity, but Boysenberry, by nature, was the nosy type and prone to wander. Luckily, the Silvers kept their doors closed by habit.
The skinny braid of Boysenberry’s tail dragged behind her as Silver Spoon escorted her through the hall of portraits and breakable antiques. By some instinct, she knew to keep her hooves to herself. “Hey, has anypony told you your house feels like a museum?”
Silver Spoon turned to her. “Once,” she said.
“That’s my fault, I’m afraid.” Father stepped out from the drawing room and approached them. “My trade is in museums, so I suppose it came naturally when the time came to decorate.” He smiled at a millennia-old saucer, circa the Paradise Estate years. A gift from Grandmother Shady Hollows’ side of the family. “We’re lucky everything isn’t marked with plaques.”
Silver Spoon chuckled. “Yeah, because Mother stopped you.”
“Guilty.” Father lifted his head. “Oh, Brass Tacks?” He nodded as the butler appeared before them. “Please escort our young guest to the door—that is, if she doesn’t mind?”
Boysenberry stared up at the unicorn, wide-eyed. “No, I don’t mind.” She especially didn’t mind Tacks’ elegant physique or fancy mane.
Father didn’t watch them leave. “Silver Spoon, do you have a moment?”
“Yes, Father.” Silver tried to read Father’s expression, but couldn’t pick up on anything specific. “May I ask why?”
“Don’t worry, it’s a good thing. I have something to show you.” He led the way into the drawing room, where a healthy fire roared in the hearth. A small table to the side had been set for dinner. Mother would have objected to eating in the house anywhere besides the dining room, but she couldn’t do much about it all the way from a Canterlot opera house.
Some sort of case lay upon the coffee table. At first glance, it appeared to be a case for a violin bow or a flute, but as she drew closer, Silver realized that couldn’t be it. A flute wouldn’t require cleaning supplies and special care hoof covers.
Drawing closer, her eyes widened. The blue velvet case was marked with the family crest: two crossed rapiers. Silver Sword’s cutie mark.
Father took a seat on the chesterfield, patting the spot beside him. “I meant to do this a few years later, around your debut party. I was fourteen when your granddad had this talk with me.”
“This isn’t about blossoming into a beautiful young rose, is it?” Silver Spoon hopped up to join him. “Because Great Aunt Mossback already told me about that stuff.” Though she hadn’t been entirely sure what that talk was really about through all the blushing and stumbling metaphors.
“No, nothing like that. It is something we normally save for later, but with all that’s happened in the past couple of years…” Father’s monocle glinted in the firelight as he looked at the family crest, then the golden laurel upon his flank. He frowned. “I’ve realized that the way things are aren’t always meant to be the way things stay. And there may not always be a later. Come a little closer so you can see.”
Father wrapped his hoof in the soft cloth and opened the case.
Silver Spoon gasped. She’d already guessed it, but she never thought she’d actually be right.
There, cushioned in fine silks and satins, rested a long rapier, slightly rusted by the passage of centuries, but still sharp. It had a sturdy, unremarkable hilt without any of the swirls or embellishments normally befitting a sword this age. A hilt not meant to be gripped with magic, but with teeth. Battle scars shone grimly in the metal.
“Father, is this…?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “Silver Spoon, my Brightness, this is the dueling rapier of our very own Silver Sword. It’s older than Equestria herself.” Father flicked his ears in thought. “At least I think so. Hmm, she fought Hurricane’s envoys with it in the Ice Cream War, so…” He did the math. “Yes, at least a month before the first Hearth’s Warming.”
Silver Spoon drew back as Father lifted the rapier out of the case, afraid to even breathe on it. “Does it have a name?” All at once, it struck her how little she actually knew about the most important figure in her family and a cloudburst of questions tumbled out. “Did she really take it into the Ice Cream War? Did she ever kill anypony with it? Shouldn’t this be in a museum or something? Is this the sword she fought Knight Shade with? Did she teach Princess Luna to fence with it?” Her mouth opened wide. “Or Princess Celestia?”
With a snort, Father adjusted his monocle. “First of all, you’ve got it backwards: the museum keeps it on loan from us. As for the rest, let’s see...” He set the blade down and stroked his chin. “Silver Sword had it when she defected to the Earth Nation, so this likely killed at least one pony in the war. Celestia’s never liked swords, and if I recall, she prefers the saber. Luna—if she trained with her at all—would have faced a foil, the kind we use for fencing. Speaking of which, we need to start your fencing lessons soon, Silver Spoon.”
Silver flattened her ears. She certainly hoped Father hadn’t dragged this sword all the way from a museum for another lecture about fencing lessons.
“As for your last question, no. I don’t think this rapier has a name.” Gently, Father angled the pommel toward her. “Do you notice anything unusual about this hilt, Brightness?”
“Well, it’s a swept hilt, so it has to be meant for an earth pony, but it’s not as fancy as the other old swords I’ve seen. Even the average swords have—oh!” Adjusting her glasses, Silver Spoon double-checked the pommel and handle to be certain. “It doesn’t have a cutie mark!”
“But do you know why?”
“I… don’t think so?” She flicked her tail and thought about it. “It’s a peasant sword?”
“Close, but not quite. Noblemares in the Unicorn Kingdom put their own cutie marks on their swords, but the ponies who worked under them or lived under them used swords marked with the seal of their House.” Father’s hoof indicated a blank black oval on the pommel. “Now, our own Silver Sword served House Gusty, so we ought to be seeing a maple leaf here. That would mean…” He trailed off to let his daughter fill in the blanks.
“If it had the leaf, that would mean, um…” Silver ran her tongue along the edge of her teeth. She hadn’t expected a pop quiz of all things before dinner. “It means the sword wouldn’t have really been hers. It would belong to the unicorns she worked for, right?” At Father’s nod, Silver Spoon examined the blank seal with new eyes. “It’s blank on purpose. It means she didn’t serve House Gusty anymore.”
“Exactly. This sword is like her resignation letter.” The rapier tip winked in the firelight. Father grinned a wicked little grin. “She wanted to make a point, as it were.”
“Father.” Silver Spoon rolled her eyes. “That’s not even clever.”
“Young lady, I waited over a decade to tell you that joke, don’t belittle your hilarious father.” He lowered the blade to Silver Spoon’s eye level. “Would you like to hold it?”
“Can I? What if I break it?”
“Brightness, it’s lived through ten centuries and three museum raids. I think it can survive a filly. The worst you’ll do is smudge it, and that’s what the cloths are for.”
Silver took it into her hooves, astounded at how light it felt. Light, but incredibly sturdy. She lifted it up and down a couple of times. A thrust into somepony’s heart wouldn’t take more effort than a decisive pen stroke. “Father, Silver Sword served the Gustys for a really long time, right?”
“For the better part of twenty-five years,” said Father. “Lord Trueheart spoke highly of her dedication to their House.”
Silver’s hoof breezed over the unadorned pommel. Its curve rested perfectly in the frog of her hoof. “Then, why did she make this sword? Why did she leave?”
“I don’t know, my Brightness. Nopony does. She didn’t keep diaries, and if she ever gave somepony a reason, that pony kept it to themselves.”
That didn’t surprise Silver Spoon. According to the history books, Silver Sword had been a mare of few words and kept to herself. As a unicorn’s swordsmith there wouldn’t be record of her before the Equestrian migrations.
“I do know one thing: it had to have been an extraordinarily strong reason.” Father glanced at the scars marring the edge of the blade. “Silver Spoon, we earth ponies are a sturdy, stubborn tribe. We can and will put up with a great deal, but everypony has a limit, and I think she found hers. I think that reason stayed with her for a long, long time.”
Cradling the rapier in her hooves, Silver recalled the tapestry at the end of the hall. She thought of every portrait, drawing, or woodcut she’d ever seen of her ancestor. Silver Sword didn’t smile in any of them, and was almost never depicted at rest; she fought or ran or leaped, save for one portrait. In that one, she stood as one shivering earth pony among twenty-four others gathered around a table and a roll of parchment.
“Do you think that’s the reason she voted the way she did?”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. If the Earth Nation hadn’t been dead split on the decision to strike out alone, she might have not voted at all.” Father took the rapier back, looked it over for smudges, and laid it back in its case. “However, I do think that’s the reason she broke the tie.”
Chancellor Puddinghead wrote volumes upon volumes of quotes, letters, and weird poetry. Smart Cookie’s journals and philosophical musings could fill a bookshelf. History only kept four sentences from Silver Sword.
When Treacle Tart, a fervent loyalist to the old treaties, begged the delegates to consider what would become of the other tribes, Silver Sword had been the only pony with a response:
“We are but pointless earth ponies, what need have they for us? The unicorns raise the sun; let them raise their crops. The pegasi tend the rains; let them tend the fields that drink them. The high-born tribes see no value for our toils; let them starve.”
The sword case snapped shut.
Flames snapped and crackled in the hearth. Silver Spoon folded her hooves in her lap, quite still. In the background, Brass Tacks wheeled in their dinner. It smelled amazing, but Silver didn’t feel very hungry. “Father? Why did you choose tonight to show me this?”
Father shrugged. “It felt appropriate. You’re not the first one in our family to step into politics, and I doubt you’ll be the last. And I think,” he said, “in order to know where you’re going, you must know where you’ve been.”
He clapped his hooves and rose from the couch. “But as for now, it appears dinner is served. Silver Spoon, what do you say to hearing the history of Canterlot Castle’s stained glass windows over our soup?”
“That depends,” said Silver Spoon. “How much choice do I have?”
“Not much, which is exactly how Royal Pane must have felt when he’d been commissioned by a representative of their Majesties to commemorate…”
THURSDAY MORNING: 11:30 HOURS. ELECTION DAY.
The heart of fear rooted deep in the unknown. Ponies feared the dark, for example, because they didn’t know what dangers lurked there. Because Silver Spoon already knew the dangers of election day, she knew she had nothing to fear.
“Ready to help me win this thing?” An updraft caught Diamond’s mane, and strands of lavender twirled and tossed over her face.
The two little fillies huddled together beside the schoolhouse, near the end of a long and arduous campaign. Silver’s calendar told her they’d been at it for a month, though it felt like five, and Cheerilee’s half-day of class had stretched for what felt like eons.
In only a few more hours, it’d all be over and Silver could get back to something like normal. Praise the sun.
“Born ready, Diamond.” They bumped hooves and exchanged a nod. “Let’s move.” Silver Spoon trailed in Diamond Tiara’s shadow, ready to launch the lifeboats. Ahead, a small armada of campaign signs bobbed across the playground. Pipsqueak’s crayoned face smiled on each one.
Young ladies knew when to cut their losses, but more importantly, they recognized the big picture. The election might be sunk, but not Diamond. Not us. The sun skipped bright across Silver’s lenses. She lifted her head high. Not yet.
Silver’s hackles rose as they eased into the crowd—or rather, the crowd eased away from them. I can’t fix a reputation in one afternoon. Nopony can. Boysenberry raised her head and nodded to her as they passed. Silver nodded back with a friendly wave. But I can salvage it.
Beside her, Diamond Tiara stiffened. Her eyes darted from the Crusaders to the Pro-Pipsqueak propaganda to Silver Spoon and back to the Crusaders. A head shorter than everypony else, her tiny opponent usually vanished in a crowd, but she had no trouble finding him today. Nopony did. Who could miss the eye of the storm?
Three minutes to the debate.
Silver glanced up from her watch. “Stay cool, Di.”
“Pff, whatever. I’m a total iceberg right now.” Diamond pawed the ground, gauging her point of entry. “Follow my lead and back me when I need you, okay?”
Two minutes.
“I gave my word, Diamond. I’m still right behind you.” Silver Spoon flipped her braid into place, checked her fetlocks for stains, and shook off the last of the jitters. “Okay! Lemme see your game face.”
Somepony had worn whiteners to bed. Diamond Tiara’s brilliant smile could draw a magpie from the nest. At a glance, it almost looked genuine.
Former president Peppermint Twist reared on her back hooves and rang her little brass bell. The crowd grew quiet. Showtime.
Earlier this morning, Pipsqueak’s team had won the coin toss—and four out of seven do-overs—so they got to go first, much to Silver’s chagrin. With rights to a first strike, they could have strategized how to offset Pip’s platform before he proposed it, or psyched him out before he hit the stage. At the very least, Diamond wouldn’t have a tough act to follow.
No use crying over cold tea. We’ll just need to deal with the cards we’re dealt. Ladies displayed strength and dignity in the face of adversity. The tip of Silver’s tail twitched while she watched Sweetie Belle set up a box for Pip to stand on. Literal height to back the high ground he’d already taken. Silver restrained a sigh. And we’ve got our share of adversity.
Pip got a leg up on the box with Scootaloo’s help. He dusted off the playground grit in his mane and blinked at the audience, frowning. The easygoing cheer and confidence seen throughout his campaign ran like the sweat upon his coat. Giving out flyers at recess or talking to his friends after class was one thing, but an actual speech was another.
Diamond Tiara exchanged a glance with Silver Spoon. “Think he’s gonna choke?” she whispered.
“Alone, he might.” Silver frowned, watching Apple Bloom’s approach out the corner of her eye. “But he’s got backup.” Darn it, why hadn’t she considered stage fright? I could have used that. She lashed her tail. Might have, if not for his entourage. Caught off guard by the Crusaders on the opposition’s turf, she hadn’t even had the time to consider sabotage. This, of course, had been the point.
Apple Bloom cleared her throat and led Pip back with the overstated, over-practiced voice of a greenhorn hypemare. “So, Pip!” She beamed at him with confidence. “How would YOU help the school if you were elected student pony president?”
It worked. Not only did her bullhorn voice wrangle everypony’s attention, but it also snapped her candidate back into place.
“Our playground took quite a beating during Twilight’s fight with Tirek.” The colt recovered fast. Not a shake or stammer in that sentence. Concise, too. He couldn’t paint a portrait with words, but he knew how to work a foal’s short attention span. He’d practiced.
Diamond’s salesmare grin tightened like a vice. Too quiet for anypony else’s ear, she hissed, “So this is what your Crusader truce looks like, huh?”
“It’s all business, Di. Nothing personal.” Judging by Apple Bloom’s bloodthirsty gusto, however, Silver Spoon wouldn’t bet money on it. “Remember, he asked them, not the other way around.”
“…we all remember how the slide broke last month, don’t we? The roundabout’s on its last—” Pip turned to a whispering Scootaloo and nodded. “That is, the merry-go-round’s on its last legs, and look there! One of the swings back there snapped a second ago!”
Silver tilted her head. “Hm.” Come to think of it, why did he choose them? Except for a Nightmare Night candy quest, she’d never heard of Pip hanging out with the Crusaders. Why hadn’t he chosen somepony in his own circle, like Rumble or The Dink? Why choose not one, but three fillies he barely knew with a history of disasters?
Pipsqueak grinned, riding high on a wave of new confidence. “Why, if it goes on like this a moment longer, we’ll ‘ave no playground left at all. If I’m voted student pony president, I’ll go straight to the school board and right this wrong!”
The words barely left his mouth before Diamond jumped in for her counterpoint. “Well, I think that’s a ridiculous waste of money!” That argument sure sounded familiar. “It’s just like that time when Twist proposed to repair that window Discord destroyed.”
Ow. Silver Spoon didn’t shift her gaze, but she still felt Twist’s injured expression from across the playground. She and Truffle had worked all year for that window.
“She just wanted to replace it with an ordinary schoolhouse window, but as you all know…”
Wait. Silver’s mind raced back to the sculptor’s shop. Her ears flew straight up. An improvement on an existing plan. An expansion! She glanced back to Pip, who’d started to feel the heat of Diamond’s counterattack. Silver didn’t know what he’d planned for—if anything—but it hadn’t been this. He wouldn’t expect Diamond’s jungle gym idea either. Nopony would.
Meanwhile, Diamond Tiara paved the way for the lead-in beautifully. “...and naturally, I convinced the school board to give that window visual appeal!”
Evidence of the work Diamond had already done (or influenced) didn’t hurt either. Silver grinned at the stained glass above Pipsqueak’s head. Moon above, this might work. Okay, if I give an obvious cold lead-in with the statue, that should leave an opening for Di to counter me with the jungle gym. No time to strategize, but with the conversation still fresh, Di would catch on quick.
Apple Bloom eyed the stained glass window, unimpressed. “’Course, it doesn’t hurt that her mother, Spoiled Rich, is head of the school board.” She stage whispered loud enough for the front rows to pass it on to the foals in the back.
So much for it not being personal.
Diamond Tiara’s multimillion-bit smile crashed. Regardless of step-parentage, regardless of any personal issues they might have had behind closed doors, regardless of the fact that Diamond would drop Spoiled for Golden in a hot second, Spoiled Rich was still part of Diamond Tiara’s family. An attack on family was, to borrow a Ponyville term, “fightin’ words”.
Silver Spoon didn’t know what Diamond’s arsenal held for the Apple family, but with Bloom’s parents missing in action, she had a few ideas. All of them bad.
She had to move. Fast. Flip Bloom’s statement. Bring it back on topic. Give Di the opening. Easier than instant tea.
“Exactly!” Ignoring the dirty looks from the opposition, Silver slipped into the debate. Did her smile stretch wide enough? She reared to her hind legs to be certain everypony could see. “Which is why when Diamond Tiara is voted student pony president, the school will be putting a statue of her in the center of our schoolyard!”
The crowd murmured to themselves. Sunny Daze, Cotton Cloudy, and Button Mash appeared confused. Even better, Peachy Pie and Featherweight actually didn’t seem to hate the idea of a fancy new statue. Everypony had forgotten the implications behind the window.
Silver Spoon grinned and clasped her hooves. So far, so good. Now, for Diamond to take the reins and—
Pain jolted through Silver’s scalp. Diamond Tiara snatched Silver’s braid hard and yanked her down to all fours.
“Silver Spoon!” Her fierce whisper hissed between gritted teeth, but Silver barely heard through her effort not to yelp. “That was my announcement for when I won!” Her grip eased up.
In the background, Sweetie Belle flattened her ears, bristling and whispering into Scootaloo’s ear. Scootaloo seemed uncertain, though not unmoved.
“I—” With a pull, Silver’s defense unraveled at her hooves. She couldn’t remember her strategy, the counterattack for Pip’s proposal, or even the reason to counterattack in the first place. Her scalp throbbed. “I was just trying to help.” Biting back a wince, she tried again. “Look, if you’d let me explain…”
“Don’t bother.” Diamond snorted. “I don’t need that kind of ‘help’.”
Silver wrapped her tail close and rubbed the back of her head. “…fine.”
Meanwhile, Apple Bloom—who couldn’t have gotten a better opening if Diamond had giftwrapped it—launched back into the debate, teeth bared. “Haven’t we all had enough of Diamond Tiara?”
Scootaloo jabbed an accusatory hoof in their direction. “Do we really need a big statue of her?”
“Especially where our playground equipment should be?” Sweetie Belle topped off the argument while Scootaloo nudged Pipsqueak atop a higher platform. The shortest colt in Ponyville now overlooked the entire schoolyard.
The schoolyard murmured in uncertain agreement. So much for winning back the crowd. Silver rubbed her chin. Maybe Diamond could still recover if…
“A vote for Diamond Tiara is a vote for more Diamond Tiara!”
If she didn’t keep doing stuff like that. “That’s not in the speech,” Silver Spoon muttered. Not only was that the worst slogan she’d ever heard, it fed right into the Crusaders’ rhetoric. If Silver didn’t know any better, she’d think Diamond actually wanted to lose. Maybe she had another trick under her tiara? Silver rubbed the base of her braid. Either way, it seemed best to sit this round out.
Twist approached from the crowd to stand beside her. “Heya, Madam Thecretary.” She smiled and tossed Silver a peppermint stick.
“Hi, Twist.” Silver rolled the candy stick under her tongue and took her place in the sidelines.
Above them, the Cutie Mark Crusaders shifted into a rallying speech about new changes, new leaders, opportunity, hope… the usual vague politician starter-pack stuff. They didn’t name any specific goals beyond the playground equipment, Silver noticed. So far, the best argument they’d presented for Pipsqueak’s candidacy was not being Diamond Tiara. The Crusaders didn’t have anything else. They didn’t need anything else.
Twist adjusted her thick lenses, squinting while she took in the scene. “You know, for a debate, Pip’th not doing much talking.”
Silver nodded. “Yeah, I noticed. He smiles a lot and only talks when he needs to.” His three-filly hype machine practically ran itself. “Running against Diamond Tiara, I don’t blame him. He knows he can’t face her alone.” She frowned. “Which is why he asked them to manage his campaign.”
“Yeah, that’th what Truffle and me decided, too. Apple Bloom and her friends know all about fighting Diamond Tiara ‘cause she’th their nemethith.”
“Exactly.” So, the little Trottinghammer knew how to strategize after all. Silver looked over her shoulder at Berry Pinch, who waved a campaign sign over The Dink’s head. That, or he’d asked a consultant. Either way, it had worked.
“Uh… I don’t wanna butt in or anything, Thilver, but…” Twist jutted her head towards Diamond Tiara, who sang her own praises down the grassy field. “Shouldn’t you be doing some of that, too? I know Diamond’th usually good at convinthing ponieth on her own, but today, she’th kinda…”
The ego ship blasted full steam ahead, and damn the advisory board. A light smile twitched at Silver’s muzzle. “Pip’s weak,” that’s catchy. Ill-advised, but catchy.
“Slipping?” Silver Spoon rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. “I know. She’s been slipping.”
“You know what happens to weak presidents?” Diamond fixed the short candidate with a sneer. “They shatter.” Prettier than a pageant routine, Diamond Tiara glided across the grass. “On the other hoof, a diamond is the hardest mineral on the planet—look it up, nerds, it’s true. A diamond never breaks, because a diamond is perfection.” For an instant, she met Silver’s eye. She didn’t signal her, though she did shoot a grin.
Silver Spoon applauded and smiled back. “I also wrote her speech, though, so…” The smile dimmed a bit. She tried to shrug it off. “I guess my job was pretty much done before we even got here.”
Twist wrinkled her nose at Diamond’s line about Pip being a weak link in the presidential chain. “That’th the thpeech you wrote last week?” Quickly, she averted her eyes. “I mean, it’th nice and all, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure you did your betht, and that’th all that really matterth!”
Not a terrible save, but Silver had lost her appetite for platitudes. “That’s the new speech. Diamond didn’t like the old one much.” The story about the Rich house’s roof catching fire would have fit perfectly right now. It derailed the opposition’s smear campaign, attracted sympathy, made Diamond relatable, and led into an amazing metaphor about forging something new and strong from the flames of hardship. “The old speech worked way better, but try telling her that.” Sulking helped nopony, but that didn’t stop the bitterness coiling in Silver’s chest.
“Truff should really be here; he'th on the ballot, after all.” Twist stepped back to give space for some foals heading for the voting booth. “I never thaw tho many ponieth excited about council politicth.”
“Neither have I.” The appeal of politics didn’t hold a candle to a clash of the cliques, nor the potential downfall of a powerful pony. After all, nopony drew crowds like Diamond Tiara.
Back in the ring, Diamond switched strategies. “Everypony has their little secrets you know.” She smiled and whispered something inaudible to Bubblegum Brush, who recoiled and tried to hide in her long mane. Only the stronghold of fear remained in Diamond’s empire, and she grasped it for dear life. It wouldn’t hold.
Fear had an expiration date.
Apple Bloom snorted with a toss of her head. “C’mon, ponies! Don’t y’all let her scare ya, not for one darn minute!”
That date was today.
“Wait!” And judging by the desperation in Diamond’s voice, she knew it, too. “Wait, wait—everypony who hasn’t voted yet, listen up!” Every few seconds, Diamond Tiara’s eyes darted between the voters and the ponies leaving the booth: a revolution in slow motion. For the first time, the realization hit her, and hit her hard. Nopony liked her, and everypony here knew it.
“Twist, I gotta go.” Silver weaved and darted through the crowd, noting the foals wearing “I Voted” stickers. At a glance, she counted seven. Can’t be more than two ponies voting right now. That’s nine lost votes, tops. Almost a third of the school. She pushed into a canter, ears pricking at the sound of her own notes read back to her over the playground.
“My fellow ponies, Pipsqueak’s made a lot of promises today, but I guarantee you he can’t keep a single one! Getting something like a brand new playground is way over his head. Like pretty much everything else.” Diamond smirked with a little chuckle. “I, on the other hoof, know how to actually put a plan into action. I can do so much more, and I guarantee my checks won’t bounce.”
Sunny Daze took a small step backward as Diamond Tiara moved in, circling her. She gulped.
“You’ve had that saddlebag for like, two years, right?” At Sunny’s nod, Diamond grinned. “I bet you could use a new one. Know where? From me, ’cause I’m a mover. Know why? ‘Cause I can actually make things happen, things none of you can afford to do, like, ever.” She tossed a gourmet candy over her shoulder and into Twist’s hooves. Twist didn’t seem overly impressed.
“Finally!” Silver could have wept. Oh, Sweet Celestia in summertime, Diamond had finally, FINALLY seen some sense.
With a flick, Diamond's hoof spun the propeller on Button’s hat. “I mean, who says I can’t be nice, right?”
Yes. Good. A softer approach. More honey, less castor oil. True, it edged closer to outright bribery, but close enough. Besides, Silver could spin bribery into philanthropy, no problem. Forget the statue introduction; this is the perfect place to mention the jungle gym! If we spin it right, she might even win by the skin of her teeth!
Silver Spoon slipped in just behind Diamond as she wrapped up her argument. She’ll get vice president at the very least.
“…and you’ll get all this and more with the low, low price of voting for me: Diamond Dazzle Tiara!” The candidate spared Silver an irritated glance.
Before Di could turn away, Silver zipped in to whisper in her ear. “You’re doing a lot better, but one suggestion?” Since Diamond didn’t say no, Silver moved in closer. “Remember your fancy jungle gym idea?”
Diamond pawed the grass. “I already told you, I’m not copying that shrimp. Not when I’m already—ugh, I don’t have time for this.”
“Like there’s gonna be a better time later? Listen, you need something better than a bribe; you need to connect. You need to make it personal.” Silver glanced at the lines for the voting booth. Plenty of ponies still hadn’t voted yet. Good. “You could win this election, if you showed them all you really—”
“I don’t recall asking you to speak!”
It echoed from the schoolhouse to the fencepost.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd. The election screeched to a standstill. Twist flinched as if she’d been struck herself. Berry Pinch narrowed her eyes and muttered something to The Dink, who nodded sadly. Boysenberry, Tornado Bolt, and Rumble made a beeline for the voting booth. Miss Cheerilee covered her mouth with a hoof.
Silver Spoon stared.
Vaguely, Silver realized that everypony was looking at them. Everypony had heard. She knew she ought to do… do something besides stand here like an idiot. Her withers trembled, and she blushed hot under her coat. Why couldn’t she just go home? If only her hooves remembered how to move, she’d run home, crawl under a blanket, and never come out.
But shocked beyond words, beyond tears, Silver Spoon could only stare. Stare and wait for something—ANYTHING—to happen so everypony would stop watching the world crumble under her hooves.
Sweetie Belle’s rallying cry bannered over the schoolyard. “Well, if that's how you treat your best friend, then I choose Pipsqueak!”
Silver owed that filly a sundae, big time.
“PIP! Vote Pip!” A great cry shook the schoolhouse to the rafters. “For Pip!” It rose from the burnouts and the overachievers. “Pip, Pip, Pipsqueak for president!” It rose from the athletes and the apple polishers. “He’s it—vote for Pip!” It rose from the colts and the fillies; the unicorns, the earth ponies, and the pegasi; the blank flanks and the cutie marked. The schoolyard fell together, united beneath a call for revolution, justice, and a new swing set. “Pip, Pip, Pip, PIP!”
It was over.
The tsunami of voices drowned the tatters of Diamond Tiara’s presidential campaign, along with any hope of saving her social standing. Granddad Silver Tongue—as always—had been right. One never had to ask if they’d been ruined; one just knew. Diamond knew.
A series of emotions—despair or regret or rage or existential dread—fluttered across the candidate’s face. It switched back to anger in a blink, and Silver Spoon ducked away before she got cut by the shrapnel.
Without a word and without meeting anypony’s eye, Silver slipped through the cheering crowd and came out on the other side, by the voting booth. The lines had died down already.
Away from prying eyes, with space to hear herself think, Silver came down to earth.
"I don’t recall asking you to speak." The words sank into her chest and stayed there, heavy and waterlogged. "I don’t recall asking you to speak."
Behind her, the road wound a straight path back to Silver’s cozy bed, a sympathetic ear, and a hot mug of emergency tea. The school day ended hours ago. She could leave. Nopony would blame her, save one. And that one blamed her for everything lately.
In the center of the playground, the Cutie Mark Crusaders beat the election drum, singing to “let honor win out against the tyranny”. Sweetie Belle had cracked open a thesaurus recently.
Silver Spoon glanced at the road behind her, and then turned away. Not yet. The election didn’t end until Cheerilee announced the winner. I said I’d be here for the whole campaign, and the Silvers keep their word. No matter what.
Besides, she still had one thing left to do. Ahead, the empty voting booth waited for her.
THURSDAY AFTERNOON: 14:55 HOURS
“Five minutes!” called Miss Cheerilee. “Polls close in five minutes!” True to her word, she’d kept the crowd away from the voting booth to give Silver Spoon some breathing room. She needed to thank her teacher for that, later.
The felt-tip marker rolled in Silver’s teeth. She examined the candidate options front to back. For safety, she checked again.
It boiled down to two questions: Who is the best pony for the job? and Who do I want for president? When she thought of it that way, the decision wasn’t hard at all. Both questions had the same answer.
Silver Spoon voted in one smooth stroke. Examining her handiwork, she nodded to herself and slipped it in the ballot box.
Done, and with three minutes to spare. Silver felt her cheeks for wet spots, smoothed her mane and tail, and stepped back out into the world.
By now, the school had plenty of time to figure out who’d been hogging the booth. Several foals who’d conveniently just so happened to be walking by quickly looked away from the booth. Others didn’t even bother pretending to have manners and stared anyway.
The Dink moved to approach, but Berry Pinch—appearing more sympathetic than Silver thought possible—caught Dinky’s shoulder and shook her head. Pinch glanced at Diamond Tiara, who sat beside the schoolhouse door with pricked ears, then at Silver Spoon, and muttered something. The Dink shrugged.
Silver Spoon found a spot beside the broken merry-go-round and settled there to wait out the results. Normally, it would be the class secretary’s job to help count the votes, but in this case, it would be a conflict of interest. She guessed Cheerilee had chosen Twist to help. Twist didn’t have a dishonest bone in her body, and besides, Silver couldn’t spot her on the playground anywhere.
Hopefully, the count wouldn’t take long. Then Silver could shake the winner’s hoof, turn around, go home, and go to bed. Everything else could wait until tomorrow. She checked her watch and settled against the warm metal with a sigh.
Ten minutes later, Councilpony Peppermint Twist opened the door and skipped out into the grass. Miss Cheerilee followed close behind. Showtime.
Silver Spoon took her place right behind Diamond Tiara. Diamond murmured something to herself under her breath and didn’t seem to notice Silver’s approach at all. Neither of them acknowledged the budding crowd.
While they waited for everypony else to get here, Cheerilee took the opportunity for a speech about citizenship, the electoral process, and how delighted she and the student council were to see such an enthusiastic turnout. “Let’s hear it for Ponyville Schoolhouse, huh?”
The students cheered and stomped and applauded themselves. Silver offered a small golf clap. Hopefully some of these cheering ponies stick around after the election’s over. She glanced at Twist, the only other current student council member besides herself. Including the new president, that gave them three guaranteed foals on the council. We’ll need more than that for even a chance at the school board meeting.
To their left, Pipsqueak trembled between Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. The colt looked like he’d been sweating bullets since the debates ended, though for the life of her, Silver didn’t know why. Had he not heard everypony cheering his praises an hour ago?
“It’s been a long road to this point class, but now the results are in, and the votes have been counted. Fillies and gentlecolts, your new student pony president is…” Miss Cheerilee paused for dramatic effect. “Pipsqueak!”
No surprise there. Cue the celebration. Silver Spoon nodded politely to the awestruck new president and his squealing campaign managers. She flicked an ear at Diamond’s gasp of horror. And the drama.
President Pipsqueak kept his victory speech short and sweet. “Thank you, thank you, everypony! I couldn’t ’ave won without the ’elp of my campaign managers, The Cutie Mark Crusaders!”
I doubt it. Silver Spoon managed to suppress a snort. His opponent dug her own grave before the debates even started. The Crusaders just piled on the dirt. Even so, Silver could appreciate the president’s humble gesture. Nice to know some ponies appreciated their campaign managers.
Okay. Almost finished. Silver tried to offer a conceding smile to her own candidate. Now all Diamond Tiara has to do is shake Pip’s hoof, give a concession speech, and we can go home.
Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo turned expectantly toward their flanks for brand new campaign managing cutie marks. To the surprise of nopony ever, nothing appeared. Did they do that literally every time they finished doing something? Did Apple Bloom look for a taste-tester cutie mark every time she ate breakfast?
Diamond glared with a little smirk.
So, no hoofshake. Okay. That’s fair. Silver frowned and gave Diamond a look. Walk away. Just accept the vote and walk away without a fuss.
“Ha.” Diamond tipped her nose in the air. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought you were, blank flanks!”
Of course. Silver Spoon slowly dragged her hooves down her face. Diamond Dazzle Tiara, I swear.
“In fact, I demand a recount!” Because of course she did. So much for going home without another scene.
Honestly, Silver didn’t know why she’d expected any different. By this point, she could set her watch to Diamond.
“Trust me, Diamond Tiara.” Miss Cheerilee tried to let her down as easy as possible. “Pip won.” By a landslide, probably. Twist and Cheerilee counted the votes twice during the ten-minute wait, and spent at least three of those minutes getting the ballot boxes.
Diamond barged her way past the teacher and into the schoolhouse. “I’ll be the judge of that, Miss Cheerilee.”
Now for extra flailing against the jaws of defeat.
In a blink, Silver Spoon saw the future. Diamond would go home, lick her wounds, and lash out at whoever stood around to be lashed out at. Silver would attempt disaster control, and to some degree, she’d be successful. Eventually, they would approach peace or something like it.
Until the next time. Until pressure built in the atmosphere and the storm rolled in all over again.
Inside, papers shuffled. The ballot box dropped to the floor. Papers shuffled again. And again.
A beat of silence. Another.
Silver Spoon braced herself. Three, two…
“WHAT?!”
Yep. Silver blinked slowly. Like clockwork.
Diamond Tiara reappeared on the schoolhouse steps, completely aghast. “One vote?!” She scrambled to Silver’s side.
Nopony in this schoolyard, not even Cotton Cloudy, knew storm warnings the way Silver Spoon did. Taping up windows and arranging sandbags came second nature to her by this point. Silver knew Diamond’s hurricanes.
This was not a hurricane.
“Silver Spoon?” The winds had gone out. No indignation. No rage. Diamond’s voice pinched tight and squeaky. “You didn’t vote for me?!”
Are you—? For a split second, Silver searched Diamond’s face. You’re honestly surprised by this. Shocked, in fact.
“I don’t recall asking you to speak.” The phrase boomeranged and hit Silver hard in the mouth.
How dare she.
This, after humiliating her in front of the entire school. After the hoof cramps writing and rewriting speeches. After a month combing the schoolyard for some way to salvage the election, only to get spat on in the home stretch. This, not even an hour after “I don’t recall asking you to speak”.
And still. Still, Diamond Tiara had the audacity—the sheer audacity and ENTITLEMENT—to demand Silver’s vote. Not even a real vote; she knew darn well she’d lost the presidency. No, she’d expected a vote of solidarity. Diamond entitled herself to Silver Spoon’s solidarity.
How. Dare. She.
“No,” said Silver Spoon. She stared, corrosive and unblinking. “I didn’t.”
Diamond Tiara winced. She bit her bottom lip, staring back as if she didn’t comprehend what she’d just heard. “But…” Her eyes widened with what almost resembled regret. Almost didn’t cut it anymore. “But you’re my best friend!”
The last time Silver checked, friends didn’t throw friends’ speeches in their face. Friends remembered to say things like “thank you”, “good job”, or “nice try” once in a while. Friends let their campaign managers do the job they’d been asked to do. Friends—especially best friends—did not treat friends this way.
“We might as well be talkin’ to Diamond’s butler.” Apple Bloom was still wrong; Silver Spoon wasn’t Diamond Tiara’s butler. Butlers got paid for their effort.
Silver narrowed her eyes. She spoke softly and did not shout. “Am I?” Ladies did not shout because ladies had composure and knew better than to throw a tantrum when they lost an election. “'Cause I tried to help by mentioning your 'surprise' statue, and suddenly I wasn't even allowed to speak!”
Too little, too late, it clicked. Diamond Tiara’s mouth sagged open. No apology came out. Not even an attempt.
All those wasted hours of work. All that time trying to atone for one mistake Diamond wouldn’t even let her atone for. And what had it amounted to? What could it amount to? Silver didn’t know and she didn’t care. She’d done more than enough.
“You actually could have won this election if you’d just listened to me. You wanna know how?” Silver leaned in close. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not allowed to speak.” A flick of her hoof shut Diamond’s big mouth before a bug flew in it. Let nopony say she never did Diamond any favors.
Diamond Tiara blinked. She mouthed a string of silent not-words and aborted comebacks that built and built until it exploded in a shriek of rage.
Silver raised an eyebrow.
Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Pipsqueak collectively stared. Sweetie Belle seemed to struggle for something to say.
While Diamond turned tail and stormed off to lick her wounds, or plot revenge, or launch a generational blood feud or whatever, Silver Spoon glanced at her small audience. “What? I don’t have to follow her drum anymore.”
If they insisted on rubbernecking, she might as well get something done in the meantime. Silver beckoned the new president with her tail. “Pipsqueak, there’s a school board meeting tomorrow afternoon. The student council needs to meet before then if you want your new playground.” She thought a moment. “Oh, and congratulations on your win.”
“Oh, thanks. Tomorrow, you said? Um…” He looked for his campaign managers, but they huddled elsewhere, deep in some other conversation. Councilmare Twist offered him an encouraging smile. “Yeah, I expect we ought to. When did you want to do it? Recess? Maybe early in the morning?”
In the corner of her eye, Silver spotted the Crusaders hot on Diamond’s trail. Maybe they wanted to gawk at the carnage. Maybe they wanted to earn their pep-talk cutie marks. Or maybe they just headed in the same direction and it was a coincidence. Didn’t matter.
Let her starve.
“Either one’s fine with me. Or we could do both.” Silver Spoon shrugged. “My schedule’s wide open.”
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ANother great chapter, very well done.
... Diamond Tiarekt.
I have been waiting for this moment ever since I started reading this story.
Now it's finally here, and it absolutely did not disappoint.
I really enjoy this story and always look forward to more.
Just one thing, I think Silver said drama not drum when she talked to the CMC and Pip
Ah, so the implied social Darwinism came from Silver Spoon. That actually explains a great deal, given the almost Hobbesian environment of Wisteria Academy.
A pageant is not an election. Diamond doesn't understand that, and if she ever will, it will be far too late.
Something the candidates likely have in common.
Silver didn't realize that the bridge to Pipsqueak happened to be one she'd already burnt. Not until she tried walking on the ashes, anyway. Still, as much as that outside perspective may sting, it may prove essential in what she'll do later.
Also, way to ruin the first unsullied bonding moment the fillies had had in months, Spoiled. A+ parenting.
Only losers need to cheat, but it's only cheating if you acknowledge it as such. Otherwise, it's just a creative strategy.
Ah. I'm sure it was a complete coincidence that Silver's father chose now to teach her about the legacy of an ancestor who got fed up with masters she'd once served loyally.
Huh. How many burnouts can there be in an elementary school?
And there it is. Between the outside perspective, the history lesson, and that crowning moment of disrespect, Silver cuts ties with a sinking ship. Of course, now there's the not-inconsiderable matter of trying to actually get that playground equipment, and even if I didn't know how it was going to go, I wouldn't be optimistic.
Fantastic presentation of the climax of Silver Spoon's personal saga. Now there's the question of just how that reconciliation will pan out.
8213299
I’m waiting for that as well. We’ve reached the point where neither deserves the other’s friendship. It’s reminding me of all the things I dislike about the episode, and this might be what’s needed to make it palatable.
And here I though Diamond just had a bug up her butt this entire time.
Turns out it was a Burr.
I’ll see myself out.
Amusing advertising synchronicity: “PayPal is new money”.
8213299
Indeed. In a pageant, she performs in front of ponies who might not see her again until the next pageant rolls around, so all they see is the face she puts on for them. In an election, she has to convince ponies who see her pretty much every school day and sometimes around town, sporting the attitude she’s adopted. Honestly, it’s hard to imagine her winning a pageant like this, much less an election.
It is nice to see that Diamond’s at least smart enough to get that “statue of me” isn’t going to fly alone. Even if she doesn’t get that it’d probably be defaced long before erosion took its toll.
Finally this exquisite moment
Here we are, the chapter we’ve been waiting for since the story started. It’s worth the wait. Now pretend I’ve added a pretentious in-depth analysis of the whole thing and its artistic value here. This chapters good enough that I think it warrants it, but there’s no way I’m going to do that.
8213187
I’ve seen it referred to as both in the captions and fan transcript, I honestly have no idea which one it is. Either one fits.
8212952
Aw, Windy, your comment showed up like two seconds after the chapter went live and it made me smile. c:
very nice chapter.
but what happens next? the end? a rekindling of friendship? the shipping starts? i go to bed?
we shall see
Another great chapter. I couldn’t wait to see how you wrote this episode, and it was done really well.
Welp. Diamond missed her shot, and now she won’t be in the room where it happens.
I’d love to see you do something with Silver’s parents, the way you did with Filthy Rich and Spoiled Rotten. They seem interesting ponies in their own right!
Jeez, Spoiled is just toxic. I can’t really think of any other word for her. Especially considering she took the time to shoot down a strategy that could have a practical benefit (let’s all appreciate just how outrageously skewed her priorities are here, kids don’t need an engaging piece of playground equipment, but a statue is A+), but was perfectly happy to hear Diamond discussing blackmail.
Hmm, and it sounds a bit like Luna is trying, hard but unsuccessfully (maybe) to reach Diamond now. I wonder how that will turn out.
And now Diamond learns that “Best Friend” doesn’t mean “Best Lackey.” Silver hasn’t exactly been a shining example of goodness and harmony, but Diamond was outright abusive. But then you look at who seems to be the most involved with raising her, and it isn’t hard to see why.
“We are but pointless earth ponies, what need have they need for us?”
Is that second need a typo?
Finally. You know, I wrote a whole blog post the day this episode aired about how disappointed I was that they didn't give Silver Spoon her due. She got her moment, yes, but I never got to see who she was, or any reconciliation between her and DT. Guess I'll have to wait for next chapter on that one but know that I appreciate your take on Silver's side of things. It feels very believable and blends seamlessly with the episodes. (nice one with the sword too)
Missed proofreading:
Word repetition
time^
[quote“Yeah, that’th what Truffle and me decided, too.” Apple Bloom and her friends know all about fighting Diamond Tiara ‘cause she’th their nemethith.”Extra quotation mark
Extra word, and missing word
Truly brilliant. I love your characters cause you have made them your own not the shows. You have woven a story that completely fits in with the show but expands its horizons. Again a masterpiece.
now do the right thing and don’t have everybody forgive diamond tiara because her moms bad, please, please don’t do that.
I feel sorry for them both.
This chapter kinda reminds me of when I was a kid and we’d watch The Wizard of Oz on TV.
Because when it came to the climactic scene where the Wicked Witch melts, we’d mostly cover our ears and hide behind the sofa. Sure, we knew the Witch was evil, she deserved, and Dorothy wasn’t even trying to hurt her in the first place, but still--her writhing, her moaning, those screams...
(And that wasn’t a digital special effect, either: just a little dry ice, a hole in the stage, and Margaret Hamilton’s acting)
Point being, it takes a lot of skill (and some courage) to make the chief baddie’s comeuppance a scene, not of righteousness and triumph, but of horror and pity.
Man that was a fantastic chapter. My only regret is we won’t get direct perspective of the rest of this episode, since Silver is out of the picture.
8214443 Spoiled’s intelligence is once again called into question. Just as Diamond thinks an election is like a beauty pageant, apparently she thinks an election is like planning a fancy Canterlot Wedding.
That reminds me, did Spoiled plan Cranky and Matilda’s wedding?
Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for.
Is there maybe a bit of formatting missing here? Silver Spoon’s thoughts seem to blend into the narrative.
...ouch.
Coda:
The big moment has finally arrived! And what a chapter it was! That was extremely well written. I especially enjoyed how you made that line where Silver brought up the statue actually appear like a smart move on her part...she was waiting for Diamond to play off her queue and mention the jungle gym. Brilliant. Also, her hiding in the voting booth really showed how much Diamond’s words affected her. All Silver’s loyalty, all her hard work and sticking up for DT....only to be utterly humiliated. Wow, good on Silver for reaching that place of enough is enough though, even if it showed up far later than others around her hoped.
Excellent chapter!
Seriously, write a Silver Sword story. Please.
...Yes.
"Talk Less, Smile More" might be one of the douchiest, grossest chapter titles I've ever seen--if it were directed at a generic person, especially woman/girl. Though in context...
Heh, like that.
Yeah, especially with limestone rather than a less reactive (granite!) or at least harder stone (marble). And since when is limestone not "common"?
Okay, I'm betting that only works from her perspective if she's excluding the staff. Granted, since she barely recognizes their existence unless something's going wrong... Also, man that's some overcompensation.
Because Main Characters?
I don't know that the in medias res was necessary to hammer in the inevitability of the outcome after Diamond's slow-motion train wreck the last few chapters, but it certainly did.
The chapter did a great job of reinforcing sympathy for Silver, and I though she probably should have seen the writing on the wall, the message her father was trying to send, everything... I can get why she didn't. It's about the extreme-case exception to some of her core principles. She really cared about Diamond, even after all that had already passed. And she has habit and not wanting to leave what she has when she's already burned a lot of bridges--and even more thinking in terms of her+DT.
In contrast, the unhinged delusion and megalomania from DT is so complete, and she loses so much of what made her her--there's a complete erasure or reversal of all of Diamond's positive traits--that it feels unseemly simply to read, and despite all the support for the steps along the way I have trouble reconciling it as an organic chain of cause and effect. Maybe it's in part the limitation of the narrative perspective to Silver's, and the resulting in-built empathy to her point of view, which sees the outcomes as reasonable directional responses to the observed stimuli, but ultimately massively out of proportion. In that sense, great job; it's spectacular interlacing of narrative and character development where Silver Spoon is concerned! But somehow it still just doesn't feel right to me, or quite natural. Also bound up with the need to adjust on the fly to an evolving canon that made a sudden, hard jolt. (Well, really two simultaneously, if you count both the mental breakdown and the introduction of Spoiled.)
For all that, it's an intense, powerful culmination to what's been building, and Silver finally reaching her breaking point--too, too late, and thus too hard as well--was very cathartic.
Dude, this is actually Don Rosa levels of canon untanglement.
I... I love it.
8239221
This is one of the highest accolades I've ever received. c:
8213299
Man, that moment's such a bummer. I don't think they were having this much fun with a project since... sheesh, since they were working on the flag routine and Baltimare pageant back in late spring. The blow from that defeat soured everything that came after, and they never got a real project to bounce back with.
Oh dear, I've made myself sad. :c
Certainly pure coincidence, and nothing more! I like to think that all the Silvers get a different story that helps teach a lesson they need to learn. For Silver Spoon, it's the limits of duty, the right to say "no", and the difference between obedience and goodness. (Laurel got a story about the dangers of complacency or something that he took way too long to truly understand.)
...It comes to my attention that I actually meant "washout". Though honestly, Silver Spoon probably considers those to be the same thing.
8213660
While Silver Spoon's in the Room Where it Happens, Diamond's never gon' be president now. (Never gon' be president now.)
8216703
You want to get ahead? Foals who run their mouths off wind up (socially) dead.
8213710
Absolutely not. If she went into a pageant like this she'd be lucky to even place, much less win. This isn't how she'd normally approach any sort of contest. None of Diamond's usual drive, cleverness, or enthusiasm is there anymore. What we see here is panic, desperation, and a long march to a total meltdown.
Spoiled Rich was right about one thing; a class election should be should be an easy win, because this stuff should be Diamond's bread and butter. She would have bagged this election in her sleep a year ago, but now the kid who'd talked her way out of detention and needed a planned team effort to choose between the flag and the pageant can't even break ground on a basic debate.
Also, Diamond also hasn't been sleeping well for at least two days, which surely hasn't helped.
Yeah, she's still savvy enough to know mentioning it wouldn't do her any favors. Remember, she didn't plan on mentioning it at all until she'd already won and nopony could do anything about it. Silver spilling the statue likely wounded what little chance and goodwill Diamond had left. To spin the statue angle, they'd need to be on the same page first, and they're not even on the same shelf right now.
8214207
My dude, don't tempt me. I came real dang close to doing exactly that instead of writing the next chapter. The only reason I didn't is I couldn't choose between two options for a plot line.
8214443
I'm pretty sure Spoiled Rich is the kind of person who'd cancel recess because test scores are falling. It kind of makes sense on paper... if you have no idea how child development works.
8214502>>8214614
I greatly appreciate your telling me so. Adapting that election was absolute hell and needed a whole week of work just by itself--BOTH drafts!
8215253
Aw, come on now. You know I wouldn't do y'all like that. c:
8215450
I feel you, man. I felt so bad for this kid the whole time. She's having the worst day ever and it's still not even close to over. At this point, I feel like I owe Diamond a comedy story or something to make up for all this misery.
8217293
Yeah, no kiddin'.
8222056
There's a story somewhere about the whole Ice Cream War incident in me somewhere. I just don't know how or when it'll actually manifest. I'd certainly like to write a little something about Sword, though. She grew on me.
8215490
Yeah, me too. The crux of this whole thing is Diamond's internal conflict and eventual turnaround and it's a shame it's almost entirely off camera. The best I can do is play catch up next chapter(s).
Spoiled's trying her best with what she knows, but homegirl knows almost nothing about elections, especially elections with children. She still really, really wants to be involved in one of Diamond's projects but this was NOT the one to choose. At all. For at least five reasons.
And nope, Pinkie Pie planned Cranky's wedding. Pinkie's got a small monopoly on Ponyville weddings, and Canterlot's fancier weddings are more in Spoiled's wheelhouse, anyway. However, she did send them a very generous (and anonymous) wedding present purely on the basis of it being such a darn sweet romance story. She quietly has a romantic streak a mile wide.
8226849
All fair points. With Silver as our POV character, the hard swerve Diamond takes into Disasterville tricky to pull off and still feel organic, since Diamond's all but closed herself off at this point. That said, to an extent it's supposed to feel a little unnatural, since none of this is natural for Diamond. She's approaching Discorded levels of cutie mark crisis at this point. Not sure how much of it worked, but what can I say, I gave it my best shot.
8252763
I can imagine the many sleepless hours that must have gone into it. The result is splendid, and I hope you are very proud of what you've wrought. I look forward to the next chapter, and wish you luck on it.
8252763
Dooooooo it!
Or this!
Actually... please just write more. I'm certain it'll be good, whatever you decide to focus on!
8252763
You know what they say about hitting rock bottom, and all.
Ooo, depth. I wonder if we will be seeing this side of Spoiled any time soon? Especially as this is almost as much a loss for Spoiled (especially considering what happens next) as it is Diamond.
Much better qualified but unlikable candidate upset by big-talking, clueless outsider?
This episode seems oddly prophetic in retrospect.
You know, your fusion of dressage and child beauty pageants is one of the evillest concepts I've ever encountered in English literature...but I can't help wishing someone would do a PMV of this song, featuring Diamond Tiara in one of her shows:
Let's face it
Leeeeet's face it
Let's face it
Leeeeet's face it
Let's come to terms
And embrace it;
Concur and then
Concede
And face it:
I'm cute
8296368
You noticed! :D
What a perfect routine song, too. The beat's just made for matching up little hoofsteps and jumps.
8252763
And Shill heard an inspirational tale how this particular family will always put the supposed good of the collective over the happiness of individuals.
I'm sure she has drawn her own conclusions from that one. And interestingly enough, the Crusaders would have a nice tale to tell her too; about sticking with your friends even in really bad times such as the Equestria Games flagpole competition, where Scootaloo nearly stayed home.
Now I'm not saying Silver Spoon should or shouldn't have. Just that the CMC have their own experience and perspective on it.
Incidentally, now knowing the background of Apple Bloom's parents, I can't see Granny Smith having much respect for the Silvers either.
I finally read And Yet, What Riches Still Await, so... I smell a Call Back in Silver Spoon's "refrain".
Another reread, another connection. One of the first things Diamond taught Silver about was about the connectedness of ponies: You talk to Daisy, tons of ponies will hear about you, and so on. Silver seems to have either taken it to heart, even catching that it works in the negative, as well, while Diamond seems to have either forgotten it, or didn't know about the negative side.
Yeas!
Finally.
I've been waiting for this, THIS.
Excellent work!
you know patchwork this chapter reminded me of a riddle.
"there was once a king who presided over a kingdom. he was a wise king but he wanted to rule absolutely. one day he heard rumors of a wizard in a cave who could grant wishes and went to find him.
upon finding the wizard, the king asked 'i would like to know if you can grant my wish'
'certainly, what is your wish' the wizard asked
'i would like the power to rule my kingdom absolutely' the wizard agreed and went into the back of his cave. a couple of minutes later he came back holding two orbs, one red and one blue 'in these orbs are the power you seek, but you may only choose one and i will break the other. one orb will allow you to rule you kingdom absolutely through respect, while the other is through fear, which would you choose' what choice did the king make"
Just re-reading this and enjoying the utter coldness with which Silver shut down Diamond at the end.
Not that it was the most moral move, but damn, was it ever cathartic.
It’s unbelievable how tense this otherwise quick moment is with this level of buildup. Wow.
This was a great read, really, seeing Diamond's desperation reach a breaking point at the same time Silver Spoon's willing to follow her around breaks. Diamond could have easily won if she just stuck with Silver's original speech and did not antagonize Silver Spoon or other ponies, if she did those two things she would have won. It is good that Diamond lost, because she needed to have a situation to learn from, that this is not how you treat your friends. It is also a good lesson for Silver Spoon to know when connections with others are bad, and to have a filter who one connects with. I love how it was tied into the show and how excited the two fillies were about their plans for the playground. I hope Spoiled Rich can realize she is somewhat in the wrong here, she wants the best for Diamond, but goes about it in a poor manner.
How Silver and Diamond go about reconciliation is going to be interesting. Wonder what Silver will think when Diamond makes up with the CMC.
I can't wait to see what happens next!