//------------------------------// // Setting the Stage // Story: Marjoram // by Nekiyha //------------------------------// Marjoram was more miserable than usual, and he hated every second of it. His body was forced into a period of rest, while his mind and heart wanted nothing more than to be able to cast the spell so he could talk to Carnation. Laying in the cold, wet, field without any form of protection hadn’t ended well for Marjoram’s health, though he hadn’t been surprised. After overworking himself for Twilight, Marjoram was only thankful he’d managed to save Twilight before his body gave out from under him. Marjoram was curled up on the couch in the library, wrapped snugly in blankets while he listened to Twilight and Spike go over the weekly task of managing the library. Late fees, missing books, and damaged goods were all talked about, Twilight mostly trying to keep herself from panicking while Spike made sure that nothing too important was out of place or missing. Half-asleep, but still chilled to the bone despite his body trying to tell him otherwise, Marjoram tried to blot out Twilight’s useless whining. No important volumes were missing, otherwise it would have been discovered already. As much as Marjoram wanted to keep Twilight happy, he knew the library had only so much space. As the weeks wore on, her personal library creeped into the public one, which wasn’t much of a problem. Most of the patrons of the Golden Oak Library were schoolponies. After that, the most frequent borrowers of books were Twilight’s friends, followed by older ponies who were lonely or bored. Only a few books were ever late, mostly because of forgetful ponies. Not out of any real malice or thoughts of stealing the books, but because ponies were ponies. Curling into himself a little more, Marjoram squeezed his eyes shut. Trying to control his breathing, Marjoram focused hard on not listening to Twilight panic and Spike ceaselessly try to ease her worries. Slowly, and then all at once, Marjoram fell asleep. Meanwhile, when his wheezing snores filled the library, Spike and Twilight’s argument fizzled out and died. Spike smiled wide, “See? Told you it would work eventually.” Twilight smiled back, “And this is why you’re my number one assistant.” “Well...now what do we do?” Twilight shrugged, “I’m not sure. What do you want to do?” Spike shrugged, “I’d hoped you’d have an idea.” “There’s a reason I asked you, silly!” Twilight giggled. Then, she had an idea, “Oh! I can go get my dress repaired for the Gala!” “Is it the ugly one? We talked about this.*” “I know, but I don’t want to just waste the dress, my parents spent good money on it and I looked cute-” “When you were ten. You’re not ten anymore, Twilight. You need to get something that’ll impress Celestia!” Twilight's lips pursed, “I guess my appearance reflects on the princess. I didn’t think of that. Thanks, Spike!” Spike sighed in relief, “Not a problem, Twi-” “But what am I going to wear, then? I can’t just show up without clothes, and I don’t have anything formal enough!” “How about if you ask Rarity?” Spike suggested quietly. “I’m sure she’s got lots of orders from ponies going to the Gala.” “This is Ponyville, not Canterlot.” Twilight paused, “I suppose you’re right. I-I still don’t want to impose, you know how busy she gets.” “Worst she’ll do is say no. C’mon, there’s no harm in asking.” “I suppose you’re right. We’ll wait until Marjoram gets feeling a bit better, though. He needs something to wear too.” “Me too?” Spike asked cautiously. “Yes, Spike, you too. Your state of dress says something about the Princess too, you know.” Spike beamed, showing off his sharp teeth, “Yes! We get to spend time with Rarity!” “Don’t get your hopes up too much, she could be busy.” Spike shrugged, “Maybe, but not likely.” “Rarity is a busy pony.” “She’s probably designing her own gown, you know. I think she’d see it as a challenge.” “Mmhmm. Right.” “It could happen!” Twilight shook her head, “Anyway. What’s on the schedule for today?” “Keep Marjoram hydrated.” “He’s asleep now. He’s already had some tea.” “Anything else?” “Make sure he gets to his doctor’s appointment at two-o’clock.” “Alright. I’ll set an alarm for him. What else?” “Getting get lunch quick before Marjoram has to get up for his appointment?” Spike sheepishly suggested. Twilight sighed, then nodded.“Thank you, Twilight!” “Don’t thank me yet, I might make you pay for yourself!” Twilight teased. Spike rolled his eyes, “You won’t make me pay for myself! I don’t have any bits.” Twilight giggled, “I know. I think we’ve gotten too used to Marjoram paying for everything.” Spike snorted, “True enough.” “C’mon then. Sugar Cube Corner, or the Cafe?” “The Cafe please. They have the best potato fries.” “That’s true!” (LINE BREAK) Several quiet, peaceful days passed while Spike and Twilight figured out the library, and while Marjoram recuperated. Marjoram, though he was hesitant to show his relief, was more than happy that Twilight was back to her usual self. She showed no ill effects, from the petrification or from his spellwork, and everything was as back to normal as was expected. Marjoram, sitting at his desk, and staring at the words don’t mess it up, couldn’t be more thankful for that simple fact. Marjoram wanted to use the spell right away, wanted to be able to see, and hear, and talk to Carnation again but he was also worried. If somepony caught him performing necromancy, there could be a lynching. The spell might not work, backfiring or otherwise just fizzling out. If he had one chance, Marjoram did not want to talk to Carnation about the wrong things. A knock from his door jolted him into the present. Shutting the book and piling more books overtop of it, he used his magic to open it. Twilight and Spike stood in the doorway, clearly ready for an outing. Twilight had her saddlebags on, and Spike was perched on her back. “Where are you going?” “To see Rarity about Gala outfits,” Twilight replied, smiling, “C’mon. You too.” “But-” “You’re coming with us and you need to look the part!” “Ugh,” Marjoram sighed, “Are you sure I have to go at all? I like Spike’s idea of a grand tour of Canterlot better-” “We’re going, and it’s going to be the best night ever! You’ll see!” “Right,” Marjoram mumbled, “Don’t ask the stallion that’s been there.” Twilight either didn’t hear him, or was ignoring him. Marjoram didn’t really care which, and just rolled his eyes at the universe in general. “C’mon! Let’s go!” Plodding quietly after them, Marjoram could only hope he wouldn’t look like a complete idiot when it was all over. (LINE BREAK) Marjoram stared at the mirror in muted shock, unsure if he should be amazed at what he saw, or terrified. He quickly decided on both. A white button down shirt, a black neckstock, a red vest with swirling gold patterns. A black mourning coat, black spats with light grey buttons. A red pocket square, the same colour as his vest. If he had his forelock out of his eyes he would look almost distinguished. The outfit doesn’t fit him properly at all, the sleeves too short, and everything is too baggy around his barrel. That doesn’t matter too much now, though. If it weren’t for gaunt face, he could almost see what he’d look like if he weren’t ill. “You look handsome!” Twilight teased. “Who could have guessed she’d have an outfit that could work for you already?!” “You planned this!” Twilight batted her eyelashes, “Never!” Marjoram glared, “Uh huh.” “What do you think? Some adjustments to the measurements, and nopony would be able to judge you for your lack of fashion sense!” “Not many ponies lack the common sense to judge a rumoured necromancer.” Rarity shrugged, “It’s never a bad idea to put your best hoof forward.” “Thank you, though. I-I would never think to buy something like this for myself, since I don’t usually go to these things.” “It’s not a problem! An old client of mine wanted something similar, so I just reused the patterns. Changed the colour scheme, and I know now how everything fits you, so I’ll change the measurements accordingly. Don’t let me forget to retake your measurements the day before the Gala, so that way any last-minute changes occur you won’t be caught feeling uncomfortable in your new outfit.” “Thank you again.” “Again, it was my pleasure! You gave me the inspiration and motivation to create! That’s never something I turn down.” “Have the others approached you at all about gowns?” Twilight asked suddenly. Rarity blinked, “No, actually. Nopony has, except for you three. That’s...surprising, actually.” “Applejack I could almost see not asking, but I thought for sure Fluttershy would have.” “You are the first one to bring it up. In fact, it’s almost a little too early in the season for it. Make them too early, and sometimes the dresses become ‘too popular’ for some. Though, we aren’t in Canterlot…” Rarity moved to the window of the boutique, staring up at Rainbow Dash who was helping some weather pegasi move a rainbow to where it was supposed to be. Rarity’s eyes lit up, “Oh! I have an idea for Rainbow! And you, of course, Twilight. Oh. And Applejack as well!” “Won’t she not want something too fancy?” “There is a delicate line, darling.” “What about-” “The others? There is more than enough time for me to work something out! Now, come here Spike if you please. I need to take some measurements! Your suit will be a challenge, but it’ll be so much fun!” Marjoram stepped away from the mirror, taking off the spats and neckstock with a grimace, “I’ll admit, I look damn good in these. The layers feel odd, though.” “Well, if you need the practice, you can wear it a little beforehand, break it in, as it were.” Marjoram nodded, slipping off the jacket, and unbuttoning the vest, “The layers help hide how thin I am, too. I look almost healthy.” “Well, with the new potions you’re on, hopefully you’ll look almost healthy before you put the layers on.” Marjoram snorted, “Thanks for jinxing us, Twilight.” “Hey!” Spike giggled, trying not to move as Rarity worked. Rarity was clearly holding back a laugh, despite the facade of professionalism. “Don’t ‘hey’ me. You know how much Equestria tends to mess with us. Do you not remember your fifteenth birthday party?” “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t talk about it.” “Same as my twenty-fifth hence the reminder.” Rarity looked at Spike in confusion. He simply shook his head. “Fine. I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry we’ve doomed us all!” “We’re already going to the Gala, you’ve just ensured an extra amount of ‘doomed’.” Twilight glared, but the smile tugging at the edges of her lips showed her true amusement. Marjoram sighed, setting the pile of folded clothes on a nearby worktable, “Thank you again, Rarity.” “It’s not a problem, really,” Rarity insisted, “I like challenges!” “Still, are you sure you don’t want anything in return? Give me a few days, and I could probably enchant your sewing machine so it won’t break very easily.” “Really? You can do that?” “I’ll need to look up the proper runes, but yes.” “Thank you then! That will do more than adequately!” “Not a problem. I’ll let you know when I’ve got the enchantment ready.” “Of course! Alright, Spike. There you go! I’ve got your measurements now. Go on you three! I need some space for my creative vision!” “Of course!” Twilight beamed, “Let me know when everything’s done!” “I will let everypony know when I’m done. You should all see them together. Have a good day!” “You too!” Marjoram stood beside Twilight outside the boutique, “Now what?” “Back to the library?” “Sounds good.” “Can I make lunch!?” “Yes,” Twilight looked down at Spike, “I think you’ve proven yourself responsible enough now.” “Really!?” “Yes. I can sit in the kitchen with you if you want-” “Nope! I’ll be okay! If I need help, I’ll ask.” “Okay! I trust you with lunch!” “I-I think I’m going to lay down.” “Again?” Twilight’s mood shifted from playful to worried in an instant. “There was a time when you appreciated it when I was tired enough to nap.” “I know, it’s just you slept for a long time-” “Clearly I need the rest.” Twilight pressed her lips into a thin line, but said nothing. “If I don’t sleep tonight, you get to tell me you told me so.” “I won’t get much satisfaction from it.” “You will. I know you too well by now.” Twilight shook her head, “Your health isn’t funny.” “Why shouldn’t it be? Creators only know I’d be miserable without whatever little humour I can extract from it.” Twilight glared, “It’s serious!” “I’m more than fully aware, Twilight. I’ve been sick longer than I’ve known you.” “Why don’t you act like it then!?” Twilight blurted suddenly, stopping mid-stride to glare up at Marjoram, “You treat yourself like you don’t matter! You don’t eat or sleep like you should, you drink when you know you can die from it! Celestia knows what else! Do you think you matter so little that-” “Enough,” Marjoram’s voice was little more than a whisper, “Not in public.” “But-” “I need my tea,” Marjoram snarled, pushing past Twilight in his rush to get to the library. Twilight paused for a moment, then followed after. Almost absent-mindedly, she levitated Spike onto her back. Once she shut the library door behind her, Spike jumped off. He ran toward the kitchen while Marjoram eased himself to the ground. A dry, hacking cough shook his frame. Different than the usual. For a split second, Twilight heard Spike puttering around the kitchen, when everything stopped. Background noise from outside ceased, Spike stopped making noise, and Twilight could feel everything feel wrong. “I’m saying this once,” Marjoram was standing now, staring down at her like she was ten again, sitting in his morgue, “So pay attention.” Twilight nodded. “My health is no longer your concern. We know what happens when you’re my sole caregiver, and while I don’t blame you, we can’t ignore what happened. I will chat with the new Ponyville doctor at the next appointment. It could be the new potions, it could be because of my insomnia. You don’t know, and sometimes I don’t know. It’s a mystery for all of us. I appreciate your concern, but do not mention my health in public again.” “Wh-” “Because it’s my business. It’s my body, and my choice. If I need the help, or I want to talk, or anything like that, I’ll tell you. Until then, please keep your muzzle out of it.” Twilight’s voice was stuck in her throat, so she just nodded. Marjoram sighed, and Twilight saw the moment his rage fizzled out, “I’m sorry, Twilight. I...didn’t mean to be so harsh.” Twilight’s voice was still gone, so she just nodded again. A second of peace, then sound resumed again. Marjoram was back on the floor, huddled against the back of the couch. He wasn’t coughing anymore. Twilight set her saddlebags down, and ventured into her room. She stared out of her window for a long time after that. *I’m referring to a conversation that took place in Exploring.