//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: All The Queen's Horses... // Story: The Second Exile // by cunning_linguist //------------------------------// Sweetie Belle yawned. “Sweetie!” Rarity thumped her sister on the cheek with the blunt end of a croquet needle, and the filly snorted back to consciousness. “Hhuh?” “You nodded off again. We’re almost finished, so could you please hold up the fabric higher?” Sweetie grumbled but did as requested, however her expression had gone from once being ecstatic that Rarity asked her to assist in this “life-changing project” to annoyed that she’d kept her up all night. Rarity, on the other hoof, wasn’t tired in the least. On the contrary, she was as bright eyed and bushy tailed as the moment they began, which her little sister had questioned on more than one occasion. She received the same answer every time: “I’ll tell you when you’re older, dear.” Rarity finished stitching up the hem of a dress that was still a long way from completion, but she still exclaimed “Finite!” with the utmost jubilance. Sweetie sighed and let the fabric fall from her hooves to crumple in a messy pile at the base of the latter. “Fiiiiiinally!” “SWEETIE! Could you not treat my five thousand bit imported vicuña wool like one of your dolls?!” Rarity gingerly gathered up the material and laid it flat on a nearby table. “You kept me up all night for this!” Her sister huffed, climbing down off the latter and glaring at her elder sister with contempt. “Me and the other Crusaders wanted to go talk to the alien today!” “You can still do that,” Rarity said with as much patience as she ever had for Sweetie’s tantrums. “But first you’re going to get some sleep. You and your little friends can go to the hospital at noon.” Sweetie gasped and feigned a look of pure indignity. Rarity had to admit, she was shaping up into quite a superb junior diva. “But that’s—!” “Six hours from now,” Rarity finished, looking out at the sun-kissed street through her boutique’s bay window. “And I know for a fact your rambunctious behind rarely sleeps for more than four before you’re awake and running amok for the rest of the day.” “Fiiiiiiiiine.” Before Sweetie could stomp away, Rarity caught her in a telekinetic field and kissed her on the snout. She set her back down and pushed her flank toward the stairs. “Sleep tight, love.” Sweetie blushed and sighed, suddenly finding it very hard to stay mad at her sister. “I love you too,” and was soon out of sight. As soon as she was, Rarity exhaled and immediately looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. That was quickly remedied by a sharp yellow glow emanating from her horn. The light enveloped her in a tight aura, and when it faded, her coat had returned to its usual impeccable luster, her gorgeous purple hair was bouncy, and her eyes were shimmering and completely devoid of any trace of baggage. It was a spell she was quite proud of, and one she was certain even the illustrious Twilight Sparkle didn’t know. After all, she had seen the results of her burning the midnight oil before and often regretted not sharing with her such a powerful trick of the trade. Perhaps when she decided to share the knowledge of teleportation… With a delighted sigh, Rarity trotted into the kitchen and began to cook for herself a light breakfast. After all, she still had much work to complete. Mere minutes in and the doorbell rang, and Rarity happily skipped over to answer it, leaving her hash browns to quietly sizzle. “I’m very sorry but we don’t open for ano—Oh! Derpy! So good to see you darling.” “You too, Miss Rarity!” the hovering mailmare chirped. Rarity had to admit, even she was a bit jealous at how alert and pleasant Derpy was at such atrociously early hours. Job satisfaction was such a hard thing to come by, though her wall-eyed friend knew the secret in spades. She hefted a bundle off her back and let Rarity catch it with her magic. She examined it for a brief moment then shrugged and returned a smile. “Thank you kindly.” “Take care!” Derpy fluttered off, performing a barrel roll and giggling before she rounded the corner and was gone. Rarity shut the door and set the package down, untying it with surgical precision and revealing an orange biological waste bag. She wrinkled her nose at the sight, but quickly noticed a card folded into quarters nearly lost within the wrinkly wrapping paper. Dear Miss Rarity, I did not get the chance to speak to you at greater length and I apologize; I hope we can get better acquainted soon. I have a favor to ask and I hope you do not begrudge me for it. Contained herein are my effects, which were damaged (as you no doubt saw) in my escape from captivity (I apologize if I startled you). If it’s not too much trouble, could you please clean and repair them? I will pay you whatever amount you deem fair at a later date. Thank you very much. Sincerely, Riven Dictated by Twilight Sparkle Rarity smiled pleasantly at the note and set it aside, then looked down at the blood-soaked and torn garments beneath the semi-transparent hazard bag. She could tell from just a cursory glance that they were quite well-worn, being practically threadbare on all of the seams. “Of course I will, you silly non-pony,” she thought aloud, then directed her attention toward the sound of oil popping in the kitchen: Her hash browns were burning. “Oh, ponyfeathers!” Riven yawned… but then clutched her chest in pain, turning away so that Pinkie wouldn’t become concerned. In the last several hours they had spent together, however, she was beginning to learn a lot about this happy-go-lucky pink pony. While she seemed as concerned for Riven’s well-being as anyone — anypony — she wasn’t condescending or overly physical in her misgivings. She had asked Riven only once if she was all right, and when she replied in the affirmative, Pinkie immediately dismissed it and began to excitedly discuss a number of topics. Riven was not introverted per se, but she wasn’t particularly outgoing either. However, Pinkie’s enthusiasm for basically everything was infectious and after a short while, Riven was laughing and enjoying herself, so much so that one of the nurses had ushered the notably disappointed mare out, as Riven had torn some of her stitches during a heated talk over the merits of chocolate chips cooked inside of pancakes as opposed to adding them afterward. Now she found herself in the company of Shining Armor and Noteworthy, but the pegasus was asleep, having been ordered to do so by her superior officer. It was only after Noteworthy removed her armor to get some shut-eye that Riven got a good look at her; her mane was golden blond and her coat was an off-white color, similar to an eggshell. Twilight Sparkle briefly explained the reason behind “cutie marks” during their Q&A earlier that evening, and Noteworthy’s was of two pegusi crossing spears. Though neither guard appeared to be armed, it was apt. Shining Armor was laconic and contemplative. He divided his attention between Riven herself, the doorway, and the nearby window. Up until this point, he hadn’t directed a single word at her; even during their earlier game of poker he was curt and on-edge. The silence intensified her pain so she decided to be the one to break the ice. Ironic, she thought. I’m usually the one everyone tries to get to know. “So… Twilight’s brother?” “Shining Armor,” he informed. “No, I was asking, not asking for your name.” “Oh. Yes, I am.” “She’s nice. A bit scatterbrained.” Riven looked at him, and he was displaying something between a mix of confusion and offense, like she had just insulted his little sister. “I wasn’t being mean; I like her. Just making an observation.” “I agree. She’s always been very… studious.” Then his eyes narrowed, a rather menacing face given that they were shadowed by his blue galea. “But you don’t get to make fun of my sister in front of me, observation or not.” Riven frowned but nodded. She could hardly blame him for being defensive, as she’d undoubtedly do the same if she had any siblings. A few moments of tense silence wafted by and Riven winced again. She needed to keep this conversation going, even if it devolved into a shouting contest. “Got any family besides your sister?” “My mother and father, and my wife.” “What’s your wife’s name?” “Princess Cadence.” Riven paused then chuckled a bit, still tipping to her side from the pain. “Your sister is the student of the princess, and on top of being the captain of your military, you married into royalty. You must have some very proud parents.” Shining Armor’s lips crooked into the most professional variation of a smirk Riven had ever seen. “They raised us well.” A distant cry turned both of their heads then, and it steadily grew closer. At this range, neither could make out the voices, but Shining Armor nevertheless conjured to hoof a sword; it resembled a gladius, but in Riven’s hand it would have been but a dagger. “Stay here,” he insisted, moving to the doorway and peering around it. “I don’t think you need to worry about me leaving.” Blue light shimmered from the revolving door in the nearby lobby and a moment later, the glass vaporized and the bronze structure was torn from its frame, ricocheting off the interior of the hospital twice before coming to a stop less than a metre from a very alarmed nurse. Twilight ran in shortly thereafter, Spike draped across her back. To say she looked frantic would have been the understatement of the century, for she was practically babbling on top of screaming for aid. Her mane was slicked with sweat and her legs were trembling, barely able to support her weight. The nurse immediately discarded her fear and leapt over the counter, grabbing the little dragon and calling for a Doctor Sawbones, the attending. Not that she needed to, for Twilight’s spell had garnered the attention of the entire building. Said doctor ran out from a supply closet shortly thereafter — followed by another nurse — and was about to demand who had caused such a ruckus, only to immediately adjust his lipstick-smeared collar and call for a gurney. Though neither the receptionist nor the other nurse knew much about dragon physiology, the doctor did, and had soon graduated from merely checking the dilation of his pupils to holding his ear over Spike’s mouth. “He isn’t breathing,” he spoke to no one in particular, then turned to the nurse on his right. “Prep surgical suite number two and get the paddles.” Doctor Sawbones kicked the gurney’s peddle to lower its height, then reached into his pocket for a penknife. He wedged open Spike’s mouth and slammed his hoof down on the little dragon’s chest, eliciting a cry of shock from the hysterical Twilight Sparkle. A gout of green flames sterilized the knife, as intended, and the doctor made an incision in Spike’s throat. Waving the flames away, he produced a drinking straw from another pocket and slipped it into the incision. After a moment, smoke began to puff from it in neat circles. “His airway is blocked,” the doctor explained, looking at Twilight, who had nearly fainted at the display. Shining Armor had dispelled his weapon and was quick to catch her, however. “I don’t know by what but I’ll find it during the surgery, don’t you fret.” He then looked at the armored unicorn. “Keep her out here.” And with that, Spike was wheeled out of sight. Shining Armor saw the telltale sign of magic about to be worked from her horn but his own dispelled it, breaking her bloodshot attention to focus on him and the sudden rage she felt at being unable to accompany her assistant. “You’re going to let me go,” she said, clearly a command and not a suggestion. “No I’m not. If I have to hold you down, I will.” “You wouldn’t win, Armor.” “I’ve been trained to counterspell rogue unicorns. You haven’t. Sit.” Twilight looked longingly in the direction of the double doors where Spike disappeared but didn’t move. She simply canted her head and let the tears fall quietly. Shining Armor did his best to comfort her, but he didn’t know what to say any better than she did. Their attention was once again distracted by somepony’s pleas for help. Shining Armor kissed his sister once then went to investigate, only to be nearly bowled over by a disheveled Fluttershy and her cargo: Rainbow Dash. “S-S-She fell!” The crazed mare exclaimed, but once she realized Shining Armor wasn’t a trained medical professional, she practically pushed him aside and began to bang on the service bell. One of the nurses came out of Spike’s operating room to see what the trouble was this time, but again was able to set aside her irritation and gallop over, taking Rainbow off of Fluttershy’s back and laying her on the cold tile. Fluttershy continued to explain, and though Twilight was confused and wanted to calm her friend, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from those damn double doors… “I f-f-found her outside of my cottage this morning! I don’t know how long she’d been laying there but she’s unconscious and I j-j-just don’t have the facilities to handle this kind of injury!” “RELAX!” The nurse shouted, immediately shutting Fluttershy up with a mid-sentence “eep!” The nurse began to perform a cursory examination of Rainbow Dash’s wounds and while extensive, none were life threatening. The bump on her head appeared to have lulled her into a state of contented sleep. “I think her right rear and fore hooves are sprained, possibly broken, probably from trying to brace her fall. She bumped her noggin good but we can’t know how severe it is until she wakes up.” The nurse locked eyes with Fluttershy and pointed a hoof at the nearby closet. “Keep her here and as comfortable as you’re able. Get a cold compress for her head but don’t leave it on for more than ten minutes at a time. I have another patient who needs my help right now but I promise—” she punctuated that last word so Fluttershy caught the severity of her tone. “—I will be back as soon as possible to get her situated.” With that, the nurse was gone to once again attend to Spike. Fluttershy did as ordered. The chilled bag was retrieved and placed on Rainbow Dash’s forehead, and her friends carefully carried her back into Riven’s room, setting her down at the foot of the bed. Speaking of her, she had been listening to the unmitigated chaos raging outside of her room and was eager to know just what the hell was going on. However, no one could give her an answer. “Spike and Rainbow Dash were hurt?” Riven questioned, shuffling into a straighter posture while using her weak grip to keep the blanket covering her chest. “How?” Twilight hiccupped but it took her a moment to collect herself enough to reply. “I d-don’t know…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He was th-thrashing in his sleep. He looked terrified… and then he stopped breathing.” “I always wake up early to feed the crepuscular animals that live around my home,” Fluttershy squeaked, having required even more time to gain her bearings enough to speak. “But I saw Rainbow just… laying there… like she had flown down to talk with me but couldn’t make it to the door. I don’t understand… it’s such a simple flight.” Riven’s good hand reflexively reached up and cupped itself over her right breast. She remembered something that had occurred mere seconds before arriving in Equestria, but had pushed it out of her mind in favor of more prevalent topics, such as crayon-colored ponies and life-threatening injuries. But what had been inflicted upon her in that last match was fake; a phantom. The doctor’s scans revealed no damage in that area of her chest. Now she closed her eyes and tried to think. The very last moments before the Nexus absorbed her soul… she was in a fight with Evelynn and Nocturne. …And his blades had still been in her chest. Riven’s eyes snapped open and the profound words of “oh my god” were on her lips. Instead she saw two gods — princesses, more precisely — looking at her. Luna scared out of her wits, and Celestia with barely-contained fury. “What did you bring with you?”