Crystal's Hopes

by Crystal Wishes

The Thought of You

"Need I remind you," Golden said, her lips curled in a sneer, "that I am a model. A supermodel. Mares and stallions either want to be me, or be with me."

Crystal laughed softly under her breath as she gripped a weed in her magic and tugged it out of the ground. "Yes, Golden."

"I won Miss Equestria. I have more medals, trophies, and awards than you could ever dream of."

"Yes, Golden." Crystal tossed the weed into the wheelbarrow and lifted a watering can above the sprouting flowers.

Golden groaned and set her dirtied hoof on the side of the raised planter. "And you have me spending a Saturday afternoon gardening."

Crystal watched for the soil to change to a precise shade of dark brown and then set the watering can down, just as she had been instructed. She took a step forward to begin work on the next row of flowers. "Yes, Golden."

"Are you even listening to me?" Golden snapped, her ears pressing flat against her mane.

"Yes, Golden," Crystal managed through a giggle.

A sound of metal on stone rang through the air. It was a quiet sound in reality, but each clink resounded in Crystal's chest with physical pain. Against her better judgment, she looked over to see a stoneworker inscribing names into a new section of the monument's base.

More lives to mourn. More names to honor.

The war was never sated.

Crystal tore her gaze away and stared down at the flowers that had sprung forth from their beds not long ago. They were a vibrant green, full of life and hope, the promise of their beautiful petals wrapped in shy buds.

They gave her hope in the face of despair. If flowers could bloom in winter, then Equestria could bloom in war.

"You're not listening to me," Golden muttered. "Where is Velvet? She would listen to me."

Crystal blinked and looked up at Golden, her head tilting to the side. "That's a good question, actually. She said she was busy, but wouldn't say with what."

Golden's irritation lifted into amusement as she snorted. "Oh, is that so? She must be with a stallion, then."

Heat filled Crystal's cheeks and she hurriedly returned her attention to the flower bed. "I—I see."

Velvet had been spending an awful lot of time with stallions as of late. It wasn't Crystal's place to judge, of course, but she did worry. Was Velvet happy, or was this just something to fill the void that was left once she’d given up on adopting a foal?

"Well, I'll have you know that once you release me from this tortuous affair," Golden continued, trying to step around a scattered pile of dirt and fertilizer that had fallen onto the path, "I have a date with a stallion of my own. It'll be our second date."

Crystal didn't voice it, but she was surprised. Golden always seemed to prefer short relationships for one night; a second date was quite the rare occurrence. "Who is he?"

Golden huffed. "A lady doesn't ask and a lady doesn't tell."

That always meant it was somepony more famous than her. Golden hated being the pony in the lesser limelight, after all. Smothering a giggle, Crystal just nodded and returned to plucking weeds with her magic.

"Hey there, Aunt Crystal!" Dot called, prancing over with four stallions following behind her. "Need any help?"

"Hello, Dot." Crystal straightened up to greet the young mare with a smile. "Actually, our wheelbarrow is getting too full for Golden to push without complaint, if you don't mind."

Dot's head bobbed. "Sure thing!" She looked over at one of the stallions closest to her. "Hey, Blaze, can you take their 'barrow and get them a new one?"

"Yeah!" The stallion hurried over with an eagerness that made Crystal struggle not to laugh.

"Blaze?" Crystal asked him in a soft voice. "But isn't your name Shimmer Stone?"

Shimmer paused to look at her, his expression momentarily confused before he shrugged. "I don't care!" He hooked himself up to the wheelbarrow and trotted off to empty it in the growing pile of compost.

If nothing else, his enthusiasm was admirable.

As Dot and her entourage moved on to the next group, Golden saw them off with a derisive snort. "When I was her age, I had twice as many stallions at my hooves."

"Oh, don't be envious of the youth." Crystal finally allowed herself to laugh. "Let her enjoy her popularity. She endured a rough foalhood; it's the least that she's earned."

Golden's ears flicked back and her eyes almost seemed to gloss over as she watched Dot prance about without a care. "You speak as if she is the only one."

A somewhat lonesome silence fell upon them. Crystal went back to work, and Golden said nothing. Wounds were difficult to heal, even with time, and Golden seemed to have more than her fair share.

Something small and pink caught Crystal's attention and she turned her head to spy the orchid mantis, Petal, climbing up onto the planter's edge. She smiled, lifting her gaze to see Orchid Bouquet nearby and fussing with a pony about their weeding technique.

"Did you get bored of sitting through another one of Bouquet's lectures?" Crystal asked the mantis, gaze falling on her again.

Petal stared with unblinking eyes while one antenna moved in a circular rotation.

Golden's ears twitched. "Why do you always talk to that bug?"

There was a small click sound as Petal tapped one of her elongated forelegs against the ground as she shifted to face Golden. Her wings slipped out from under their protective covering and splayed to the sides in an aggressive display.

"Excuse me?" Golden lowered her head and snorted at the mantis. "What did you just say?"

Petal stared, then gave a small buzz of her wings before tucking them back against her abdomen and turning to face Crystal again.

Golden snorted again, this time with amusement. "That's what I thought."

"Golden, would you please cease the constant antagonization of my Petal?" Orchid Bouquet said in an absent tone as she walked past her to approach Crystal. "Hello, dear."

Crystal stood to her full height, brushing off some of the dirt that clung to her legs. "How are things coming along?"

Bouquet hummed as she examined a nearby flower's bud with one hoof. "They were perhaps planted a bit too soon, but they’ll bloom. The key now is proper aeration, fertilization, and weeding in the time leading up to the ceremony."

It was Crystal's time to feel her wounds come to the surface. Her gaze fell as her determination wavered. There was just a few short months until Remembrance Day. The tragedy of the TMS Harmony was looming in the horizon, and she wasn't ready for it. The war was going to hit its year mark.

That meant Silent had been gone for a year.

"With that said," Bouquet continued, "there has been a significant increase in requests for the Forget-Me-Not branch's services. The approach of Remembrance Day has brought feelings to the surface that I believe ponies had underestimated."

Crystal gave an absent nod. "Oh, I see. Of course. Do you have the resources you need?"

Bouquet's lips quirked into a light but brief grin. "Yes, and I'll be sure that all receipts are kept appropriately for your grandfather's love of documentation."

With a groan, Crystal rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Please don't remind me about that just yet. I'm rather enjoying the fresh air and calming effect of gardening, thank you."

"You're welcome." Bouquet reached out a hoof to offer it to Petal, who obediently climbed onto it and up the extended leg. "We will be planting daffodils in a field north of here. A farmer has donated a portion of his land for the endeavor. For every pony that orders one, they are given a wreath to hang on their door. We have already begun deliveries, in fact."

"Oh." Crystal blinked a few times. Bouquet had already decided so much on her own? It was her branch, after all, but Crystal suddenly felt out of the loop.

Bouquet arched one brow. "I went to discuss this with you, but Wallflower informed me that you were recovering from spending Hearth's Warming with one too many mugs of eggnog. I discussed the plans with her instead."

Crystal felt her face heat up when Golden burst into a brief, sharp laugh. "We—Well, yes, I suppose I remember Wallflower telling me about something while I was, ah, recovering in Velvet's apartment."

"I assume there's no issue?" Bouquet's voice held no ire; instead, she sounded almost amused, as if she were talking to one of her own foals.

In response to such a tone, Crystal tried not to pout. She was Bouquet's boss, or akin to one, at least! Pouting didn't demand much respect, however, so she wiggled her nose to keep her expression even. "Of course not!" She smiled. "It sounds like a beautiful project. I look forward to the field of daffodils."

Bouquet nodded. "We are having them brought in from a greenhouse in Prance. As soon as the snow breaks, we will have them planted."

Golden gave a bored hum as she deigned to pluck a weed in her magic and dropped it in the wheelbarrow that Shimmer Stone had left near their planter. "You really are living up to the 'Flower Foundation' name. It's cute."

Bouquet looked over her shoulder to stare at Golden. Petal sat atop her head, stretching out her forelegs. "Speaking of which," Bouquet began with a smile curling her lips, "your mother had a daffodil requested. Would you like me to send you a wreath, as well?"

"My mother?" Golden's face blanched before turning red. "I won't have a wreath riding on the skirt of my mother's daffodil! I will have my own daffodil for my father and my own wreath, thank you."

"Very good," Bouquet said as she turned and trotted away, her tail held a little higher with self-satisfaction.

Blinking a few times, Golden looked at Crystal. "Why do I get the feeling she just played me?"

"Because she did," Crystal replied, giggling.

The sun continued its ascent above, watchful of the ponies below who tended to the flowers of the Harmony memorial. Finally, as the hours drew into the late afternoon, a call for lemonade rang out and everypony gathered to receive a glass of the sweet-and-sour drink.

"Good work today," Bouquet said to the crowd. "The flowers appreciate your tender love and care. We'll reconvene in a month to check on their condition for the last time before Remembrance Day."

Golden downed her second lemonade and tossed the paper cup in the recycling bin. "Thank Celestia that's over. I'm going to go home, take a long, hot shower, and think about nice things like what I'm going to do with my stallion tonight."

Crystal tried not to blush as her mind, rather unnecessarily, filled with memories of her anniversary night. "Okay!" she squeaked. "Have fun!"

After a brief suspicious look, Golden turned and trotted away. She seemed, despite her words, happy, and that brought a smile to Crystal's face. It was a well-earned happiness.

While the volunteers dispersed to enjoy the rest of their weekend, Crystal sat down at the base of the monument and leaned her head back to gaze up at the white monolith. It reached up into the sky, surrounded by the names of the fallen, guiding them up into the heavens.

What happened when a pony died? Crystal released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and closed her eyes. It wasn't something she had ever thought about before, and it wasn't something she ever wanted to think about again once the war was over. And yet, she knew that her life was forever changed. Death was a more frequent part of her reality now.

But she would be okay, so long as Silent came home. Of course, she wanted everypony overseas to come home, but she wasn't perfect. Selfishly, she was certain she would be fine if it was only Silent. What a truly awful thought.

"I thought I'd find you here," a calm, collected voice said.

Crystal opened her eyes to see Raven standing at the entrance to the Harmony memorial. Her mane was still in its tight bun, and she still wore her castle pass around her neck. "Did you just get off work?"

Raven glanced down at the pass and gave a quiet chuckle as her magic lifted it over her head to float it in the air between them. "For the last time for quite a while, actually."

"What?" Crystal sat upright. "What do you mean?"

After a moment of staring at her, Raven broke into laughter. "Crystal, what do you see?"

What did she see? Crystal's brow furrowed as she looked the mare over. Her mane and tail were in their usual tight bun, her glasses were the same as always, and her collar was crisp. "I see—" She stopped when she saw it: Raven's round stomach. Slapping a hoof to her forehead, she mumbled, "I see a very pregnant mare who is starting maternity leave."

"Good job," Raven teased. She lowered herself to sit beside Crystal, heaving a sigh. "It's an awful time to leave her in another pony's care. The war is still weighing heavily on the princesses, especially with Remembrance Day approaching, and I'll be gone."

Crystal hesitated before she asked, "Aren't you excited to be a mother soon, though?"

Raven waved a hoof. "Of course! Of course. But I've been working as the princess's aide for so long. Imagine if you had to give up your writing career to have a foal."

"Oh," Crystal murmured, her brow furrowing. "I think I understand." She smiled. "Well, I'm sure the princess will be happy when you return."

There was a long pause before Raven gave the kind of smile that seemed distant. "I have a feeling that the princess has something else in mind."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was leaving today, she put a hoof on my shoulder and thanked me for my dedication." The smile on Raven's face spread with warmth. "And then she said, 'I am looking forward to meeting your daughter.'"

Crystal's ears perked straight up. "She—"

"Yes." Raven laughed softly, putting a hoof on her stomach. "Some mares have to wait so long for an audience with the princess to learn the gender of their foal that, by the time that audience is granted, they've already found out the hard way. And yet she looked at me as if it were a mere farewell and revealed that I am having a filly."

Crystal beamed as she clasped her hooves around Raven's. "Oh my word! That's so exciting! A filly, a little princess of your own!"

"And I already know her name."

"What?" Crystal blinked. "You do? How?"

Raven looked away from the distant horizon to meet Crystal's gaze. "I can't quite explain it, but when Princess Celestia smiled at me and told me I'm having a filly, I just knew. It was as if I saw the name in the princess's eyes, as if she told me herself."

Blinking one more time, Crystal relaxed into a curious smile. "What is it?"

"Hope."

"Oh," Crystal breathed more than said, "that's a beautiful name."

"And I just know she'll be a beautiful filly." Raven squeezed Crystal's hoof, then grunted as she pushed herself upright onto all fours. "I'll let you know as soon as she's born. I know we have drifted apart some because of our responsibilities, but I still consider you a dear friend."

Crystal smiled and stood with her. "And I, you. I can't wait to meet her."

With a parting hug, they went their separate ways. Crystal felt the shift in the atmosphere like a cold breeze when she stepped out of the memorial park and into the normal streets of Canterlot. Life was so normal for the ponies bustling about with their shopping bags or SunBucks drinks, as if there wasn't a need for a memorial at all.

It was what it was, however; Crystal simply shrugged off the chill and started making her way home. She trotted into a higher district, closer to the castle, and the shops around her transitioned into houses and condominium buildings.

That was when she saw something new: on almost every door was a yellow wreath.

A strange battle of emotions suddenly surged in her chest as she looked around to see yellow in every direction. They were her Foundation's flowers, and that brought her joy. The necessity for them due to the war brought sadness.

And, for some strange reason, there was, predominantly, anger in the midst of it all.

Crystal felt the hairs of her coat bristle and she urged her hooves to move faster. All this time, they had done so little! Carried on with their lives, attended their useless parties, designed their pompous fashion lines—all the while, she and those like her with loved ones overseas suffered, feared, cried.

Now, when they had no choice but to acknowledge the war, did they decide to partake in the pain she had been feeling for a year?

She broke out into a quick trot as she turned onto the road that led to home. Yellow wreaths mocked her at every step. These ponies likely just saw their neighbor with a wreath and sought to have one, too. Disingenuous flowers perpetuating a frivolous game of pretending to care. Pretending to ache.

By the time Crystal got home, she was out of breath. Her chest was tight with pain, both physical and emotional. She wanted to rip every wreath off every door, to throw them off the side of Canterlot and rejoice as she informed her grandfather that they had spent money to decorate the base of the Alicorn Spire with broken wreaths.

It was a dirty, awful feeling, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get inside and hide in her room, but there was a small obstacle.

In the living room sat Pretzel, Whisperwind, and little Foccacia on the couch with Winterspear in the recliner. At her sudden arrival and out-of-breath state, they stared in surprise for a moment before Winterspear asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Crystal panted out and straightened up to regain some sense of composure. "Hello."

"Sorry for bein' 'ere unannounced," Pretzel said with a smile. "We just wanted to say goodbye before we went back home. It's been one gran bell of a few weeks, gettin' to spend so much time with Uppsy."

"Uppsy?" Crystal was pulled out of the dark thoughts in her mind to furrow her brow.

"Yeah!" Pretzel clasped her hooves together. "Your madre is a real treasure, eh? Took us all around Canterlot. They may not make Itailian here quite like my papa, but it ain't bad."

"Ain't bad at all," Whisperwind added, chuckling.

Pretzel stood from the couch and took Foccacia in the crook of her foreleg. "We got a train t'catch, but it was real good seein' you, Crystal." Her smile grew soft and earnest. "It's like I gained two sisters, no?"

Crystal returned the smile, stepping forward to embrace Pretzel. "It was my pleasure as well. Please give the rest of your family my warmest regards."

"Sure will! And I'll write as soon as we know if we're 'avin' a little Upper or a little Jet." Pretzel started for the door, Foccacia gurgling and chewing on one of her own hooves.

Whisperwind stood to his full height and grabbed Crystal with both forelegs, pulling her to his chest in a tight hug. "It's nice to have somepony normal in the family," he said in a soft voice, the chuckle in his chest reverberating against her. "Come visit us sometime, okay?"

"Okay." Crystal did her best to return the hug, though his large frame and the awkward angle made that difficult.

And just like that, Crystal and Winterspear were alone, left in silence until Winterspear cleared her throat. "So, what happened?"

"What?" Crystal glanced at her, the darkness from before returning. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want Winterspear to know how ugly she was on the inside right then. "Oh, nothing. Just one of those days." She offered the best smile she could muster and made her way to her bedroom door. "I'm exhausted, actually."

Winterspear eyed her with clear suspicion, rising from the recliner. "You're going to bed before the sun?"

Crystal paused at the threshold to her bedroom, the threshold to safety. "I'm sorry to be a poor housemate. I'll see you for dinner." She took the necessary steps inside so she could shut the door, surrounding herself in the shadows that reflected her feelings.

Anger. Pain. Frustration. And, most of all, the desire to act on them.

Crystal felt her way in the dark room over to her bed and slid under the covers. Perhaps she would skip dinner. Winterspear would ask questions, and she didn't want to answer them. She was a good mare. A sweet mare who cared for others and was selfless.

Yet right then, she felt anything but. Ponies who had turned their backs on her when she cried suddenly turned around with yellow wreaths in their hooves, wanting to be a part of what she had been enduring for a year. As if those wreaths made up for everything they hadn't done.

Perhaps most of all, it was the knowledge that she had provided them those little facades of hope and loss.

Crystal clenched her eyes shut. The memories of every day she had walked the streets and heard the useless gossip of ponies carrying on with their normal lives washed over her like crashing waves. Every invitation to some pointless fashion show or art exhibit that she had torn up and thrown away seemed to be piled on her chest, heavy and suffocating.

She had half a mind to skip the Remembrance Day ceremony entirely, hiding in her room, waiting for the fake tears to return to plastic smiles. Once it was over—once they had returned to their normal lives so she could have hers back—she would emerge.

Would anypony notice? Wallflower clearly handled the Flower Foundation affairs just fine without a mare who had gotten drunk from too much eggnog. Winterspear was busy with her ongoing physical therapy training. Velvet and Golden both had their own preoccupations with stallions. Anypony could fill out paperwork.

It would be fine. She would never have to see another plastic smile, pretentious invitation, or yellow wreath again. She would just wait until the war was over.

The war...

Slowly, Crystal's body relaxed and she felt the weight start to lift. But how could she face Silent when he came home, knowing she had been a selfish, bitter coward?

Crystal took a deep breath in, and as she exhaled, she let go of the anger within her, even if only for a moment.

No. Tomorrow, she would go back to work. She had to keep these ponies safe, even if they took the war for granted. It was her solemn promise to her husband.

For today, however, surely he would forgive her for staying in bed just a little while longer.