//------------------------------// // Harpy Inkwell // Story: Nothing Without Me // by chillbook1 //------------------------------// Raven trotted forward through the castle’s doors, making her way for the throne room. Strangely enough, she moved not with dread for the coming day. In fact, Raven was quite looking forward to the day. Today was actually one of her rare days off, and she merely needed to visit the throne room for some passing business. Then, she could spend her day doing whatever she wished. That meant rest, relaxation, and no royal shenanigans. She could catch up on her reading, or go see a play, or anything at all. This was an unprecedented amount of personal freedom. “Hey, Rave!” Raven stopped in her tracks, smirking as her friend approached. Garrus made his way from the east, which said to Raven that he was coming from the barracks. That meant he was getting off of work, which meant Raven would likely be enjoying some company on her day off. “Hey, Gary. Clocking out?” said Raven, nudging Garrus’ shoulder. “Yep. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you had off today.” “I do. Just gotta drop something off to the throne room. Walk with me.” Garrus nodded, then joined Raven on her stroll. “You busy today?” “Actually, I’m glad you asked! I just so happened to get my tax refund!” said Garrus, grinning happily. “That means, for the first time in forever, I’m not broke! So, to try to pay you back for all the drinks, I’m taking you out for brunch.” Raven opened her mouth to argue, but Garrus quickly shot her down. “No, no, no, I’m not asking you. It’s the least I can do. We’ll go out, grab something to eat, maybe go see a show. I haven’t really had a chance to explore Canterlot with spending cash. I figured we could make a day out of it.” “I’m not letting you pay for brunch, Garrus,” said Raven. “We’re splitting the bill.” “No way! I owe you so much for Ne’er-Do-Wells, I’m buying you brunch,” said Garrus adamantly. “I’m not compromising on that. Deal with it.” “Ugh. Fine. But I’m paying for dinner.” Garrus didn’t debate that, which was good enough for Raven. The two approached the throne room, the tall doors closed. Raven was just about to knock on the door when she heard a laugh that chilled her blood in her veins. She recognized that voice, that laugh, and it filled Raven’s body with dread. She couldn’t possibly be here, but that voice was unmistakable. “Goddess above, please let me be wrong,” said Raven. “Please let this be somepony else…” Raven let out a sigh and slowly pushed open the throne room doors. She stepped inside, her brain barely processing that Celestia was even there. Raven was more focused on the unicorn that Celestia was speaking to. Her coat was white, not unlike Raven’s, and her mane was done up in a short, greying bun. Her eyes were dark maroon, and they had a sharp, almost predatory gaze to them. She was an older mare, evident from the few wrinkles around her eyes, but she was clearly still sharp in the mind. She stopped her conversation with the princess as soon as she heard the throne room door’s open, and she immediately smirked when she saw who entered. Raven, however, showed no signs of her earlier grin. “Raven, hello!” said Celestia, waving her over. “And I believe this is Mr. Oak of the Solar Guard? I wasn’t aware that you two were familiar with one another.” “Ms. Inkwell has been helping me adjust to Equestrian life, your majesty,” said Garrus, bowing to the princess. He glanced nervously at Raven, who was caught in a stare-down with the mystery mare. “Hello, Raven,” chuckled the mare. “You’re late, hon. Consider that five points off.” “I’m not late. Today’s my day off,” said Raven, wincing slightly at the mention of points. “What exactly are you doing here?” “It’s been how long and that’s how you greet me? That’s five more points.” The mare narrowed her eyes at Raven. “Make it ten for being rude in the presence of the princess.” The mare then turned her attention to Garrus, smiling at him. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met.” “I don’t believe so, ma’am,” said Garrus. He stood upright and saluted. “Garrus Oak of the Solar Guard. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs…?” “Actually, it’s Miss.” “Don’t,” sighed Raven, burying her face in her hooves. “Mother, what are you doing here?” “Mother?” Garrus looked the two mares over, slowly noting the resemblance. The more she smirked, the more Garrus could see the similarities. Raven was, clearly, not happy to be sharing a room with her mother, but Garrus wasn’t sure why. She had never really mentioned her family before, so Garrus assumed that her relationship with her mother was pretty standard. The thick, heavy tension in the room said otherwise. “Mom, not that it’s not nice to see you,” said Raven, though her gritted teeth seemed to indicate that she was lying. “But you’ll have to forgive my surprise. Last I heard from you, you were heading off to Saddle Arabia.” “Yes, beautiful country. It was wonderful,” said Raven’s mother. “But, alas, I can’t imagine living there for too long.” “Is it the heat?” asked Garrus. “I did a short tour in Marecca before I came here, and I was practically sweating out my feathers.” “The heat was a problem, but my larger concern was my inability to find a stiff drink.” “Mom!” Raven raised her voice slightly, trying to refocus the situation. “Why are you here?” “You better watch your tone, missy. Is this how you serve the princess?” scoffed Raven’s mother. “Princess, I’m so sorry you have to deal with my daughter and her sass. I would have thought she’d grown out of it by now.” “Oh, come now, Harpy. You know Raven is an excellent aid,” said Celestia, giggling at the familial dispute occuring before her. “You taught her well.” “With all due respect, your excellency, I’m not certain I taught her well enough. Seems she still needs a few more lessons.” “And I’d love for you to teach me, Mother, but I’m a bit busy. I came here to drop off some documents for the princess, and then I’ve got plans,” said Raven. She reached into her saddlebag and emerged with a stack of papers, which she carried to Celestia and passed it to her sunny yellow aura. “Ah, so you already wrote up legislature for the debt forgiveness program,” said Celestia, carefully looking over the documents. “It looks very good, Ms. Inkwell. I’ll send this over to the DA’s office at once. You’ve done excellent work on this.” “Thank you, your highness.” Raven bowed deeply before rising and turning for the door. “It was nice seeing you today, Princess, but I’m afraid I have to go now. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.” “Of course. Go enjoy your day off, Ms. Inkwell. Heaven knows you’ve earned it,” said Celestia with a smile. “Thank you, your grace. Mom, I guess I’ll see you around? If you wanted to see me, you should’ve written a letter,” said Raven. “I would’ve been happy to set aside time for you.” “Actually, I came to see the princess. Catch up on old times, you know?” said Harpy, narrowing her eyes menacingly at her daughter. “Now, remind me, what holiday is today?” “Erm… It isn’t one?” “See, I didn’t think so, but that’s the only explanation as to why you’re not working today.” Harpy began pacing before the throne, much like an irate school teacher lecturing her class. “What if the princess needs your help, Raven? What if she receives and influx of mail today and, due to her preoccupation with that, she cannot give more pressing matters the attention they require.” “But, Mom—” “And for what? Hm? What’s so important that you feel the need to leave your princess’ side?” “Garrus is taking me out to brunch,” said Raven through gritted teeth. As soon as she did, she wished she hadn’t. Harpy’s entire demeanor shifted, changing from that of an angry, intimidating wildcat to a sly silver fox. “Oh, you made a date and didn’t even think to invite your mother?” said Harpy, though her frown was quickly becoming a smirk. “That sounds like another twenty points, to me.” “F-first of all, it’s not a date.” Raven realized that her blush and stammer did nothing at all to help her case. “Second of all, I didn’t invite you because Garrus is being kind enough to treat me, and I thought it would be incredibly rude to just invite a plus-one.” “Oh, well, that’s okay,” said Garrus. “I’d love to get to know you and your mother. Would you like to join us, Ms. Inkwell?” “Gary!” “Why, actually, I would,” said Harpy. “Where exactly did you have in mind?” “Raven? Suggestions?” said Garrus. Raven let out a tired, dejected sigh, bowing her head in defeat. It seemed like she would be doing this, whether she liked it or not. “I know a place,” said Raven. “Let’s head downtown.” “Really, Raven?” said Harpy, raising her eyebrow at her daughter. “Alcohol? This early?” “Mother, this is a bloody mary,” sighed Raven, raising her glass to her lips and wishing she had asked the waiter for something stronger. “Which is perfectly acceptable for brunch. You, on the other hoof, are drinking neat whiskey.” “That’s besides the point. Do as I say, not as I do.” Harpy drained her liquor in a display that put even her daughter to shame. “If you saw me jumping off a cliff, would you follow in my hoofsteps?” “I’m not that lucky,” mumbled Raven. Raven had selected her favorite bistro in downtown Canterlot, at her favorite outdoor table, hoping the food, drink, and atmosphere would distract her from having to spend her day off with her mother. So far, she was mistaken in thinking that. She wasn’t sure if there was anywhere in Canterlot with enough booze to distract her from Harpy’s presence. “So, you used to be Royal Adviser, right?” said Garrus. Raven wasn’t sure how Gary expected to get through this ordeal on just water, but he commended him for his spirit. “Before Raven took over?” “That is correct. The Inkwells come from a long, long line of Advisors to the Princess,” said Harpy, glowing with pride. “Going way back to my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, Snowy Inkwell.” “Mom, I assure you, Garrus doesn’t want to hear this story,” sighed Raven. “You always tell it. Practically every time I see you.” “It’s a very important story, Raven!” “I’d love to hear it,” chimed Garrus, earning a glare from his friend. “Raven doesn’t talk much about how she got the job, and I’ve always been curious.” “Long, long ago, when Princess Celestia was but a filly, she would travel with her father to explore all of Equestria,” said Harpy, essentially ignoring her daughter’s request. She drained her drink and waved down a waiter, pointing to her empty cup with begging in her eyes. “One day, while exploring a little forest in southeast Equestria. Through this forest ran a river, a river that was rumored to have powerful inherent magical qualities. It was said that anyone who drank from this river would have good fortune for twenty years.” “Fifteen,” said Raven, rolling her eyes. “It’s always been fifteen.” “Don’t interrupt me, Raven. Ten points for rudeness.” Harpy never took her eyes off of Garrus, even as she stopped her story to berate her daughter (an act that visibly annoyed Raven). “In any case, Princess Celestia ventured into these woods in search of this river. She hoped to drink from its waters and ensure that her reign as Lady of the Sun would be a long and prosperous one.” “Historically, nopony called her ‘Lady of the Sun’ until a few decades after this supposedly took place.” “Little did Princess Celestia know, the river was protected by powerful, evil spirits,” continued Harpy. This time, she ignored Raven outright, grinning at Garrus. She had successfully captured the griffon’s attention, and he hung onto every single word. “She ventured into the forest, unaware of the danger that awaited her. “Princess Celestia was soon swarmed by these evil spirits, though they were no match for her quick-thinking and powerful magic. She continued on, until day became night and day once more, until she came across an earth pony stallion, an adventurer, battling a horde of spirits with just a blade. He fought valiantly, but the numbers were too great. Just when he thought the end was upon him, a wave of bright yellow magic blasted the spirits to nothing.The stallion, grateful for the princess’ aide, asked how he could possibly repay her. Princess Celestia agreed that the stallion would be her personal assistant. That stallion was Snowy Inkwell, and he vowed that the Inkwells would advise and assist the Princess until the end of days.” Garrus was, clearly, amazed by the story. He was beyond impressed by the devotion of the Inkwells to Celestia. That sort of dedication that even some of the Royal Guard lacked. Raven, however, was clearly less dazzled by the tale. “For the record,” said Raven tiredly. “There is absolutely no historical evidence to suggest that this ever happened.” “Raven, fifty points off,” said Harpy, finally acknowledging her daughter with a frown. “Don’t disrespect this story. It’s the foundation of our family name and, in many ways, all of Equestria itself!” “But it didn’t happen. I’ve asked Celestia about it and she has no recollection of this ever happening!” Raven wasn’t entirely sure why she was arguing with Harpy. Past experiences showed that it almost never went well for her, but she just couldn’t help herself. “It’s made up. What’s far more likely is that Snowy was the son of some sort of priest or librarian and was chosen by King Solus to assist in the royal duties of the castle.” “So you’re calling generations of Inkwells all liars?” “I’m saying that this story has been passed down orally for something like a thousand years! There’s no way in hell that the story we know now is what really happened!” “Thirty points for your foul language,” said Harpy dryly. “Respect your family name, Raven. Just because you fail to live up to your potential doesn’t mean the rest of the Inkwell lineage should be dragged down with you.” “You know what?” Raven snarled, then, suddenly, her expression went flat. She nodded slowly, then stood up from the table. She turned to face her mother, giving a stiff, forced smile. “You’re absolutely right. I don’t know what got into me. Apologies, mother.” Raven removed her glasses for a moment, wiping them clean with her handkerchief. “I’m going to go check on our food.” “You want me to come with you?” asked Garrus. Raven shook her head. “I’m more than capable. You two stay and get to know each other.” And, with that, Raven departed from the table, trotting into the restaurant proper. All the while, she was lamenting the brunch. Just as she expected, Harpy was the same as she’d always been. The nagging, the overbearing nature, the points. It was almost too much to bear. “Hey, you,” said Raven, beckoning to a roaming waiter. “I have a table outside and we’re waiting for our food.” “I’m so sorry, ma’am, we’re a bit busier than—” “It’s fine, I don’t care. But I have special instructions for you. When our meals are ready, bring me a straight black coffee with it. I want you to spike that coffee with the strongest whiskey you have. Make it very strong, and do not mention the booze.” “Um… Okay?” The waiter was confused. “How come—?” “I’m having brunch with my mother.” “Say no more, ma’am. I’ll be right out.” Raven slipped the stallion a handful of bits for his discretion, then sauntered back to her table. She paused as she approached, rolling her eyes at what she saw. Harpy was still talking and, judging by the way she flourished her hoof as she spoke, she was spinning more yarn about the Inkwell family. Raven took a deep, calming breath before setting forth and rejoining the table. “They said it’ll be right out,” said Raven. “Your mother was just telling me that you used to be into drama,” said Garrus. Raven’s eyes shrank, abject horror evident on her face. “I didn’t know you had a theatre background.” “I… I was interested in the performing arts as a filly, yes,” said Raven carefully. “Was more of a writer, truthfully, but I did try my hoof at acting. Never really stuck, though.” “Do you remember that Bridleway contest?” asked Harpy. Raven’s face went a bit red, and she refused to make eye contact with anypony. “Bridleway contest?” Garrus was entirely oblivious to just how little Raven seemed to want to talk about it. “W-when I was eleven, there was a contest for young, aspiring theatre students,” said Raven. She swore internally for her stammer, but kept right along. “We had to write a short script and perform it for some big theatre critics. The winner got to perform their play as an opener for Les Mismarérables.” “Wow. Sounds like a big deal,” said Garrus. “That could jumpstart somepony’s career.” “Yep. It was supposed to strap a rocket to me and shoot me to the moon.” “Supposed to?” “She got lazy and never finished her script,” chimed in Harpy. Raven went bright red in the face by this point, having to fight to avoid scowling. “I d-did not get lazy.” Every word was slow and measured, as if a few short seconds from a meltdown. “I don’t know why you keep telling people that. I did not get lazy.” “You did. You had half of it done by the deadline, then said you don’t feel like finishing it.” Harpy rolled her eyes at the thought, which visibly annoyed Raven. “It’s your own fault. Besides, it’s for the best. You don’t belong on Bridleway. You belong next to the throne, serving the princess!” Raven felt her eye twitch, but chose to say nothing. “Well, that’s where I am now, so I guess so,” she said. “I guess so…” “So, so sorry for the delay!” Raven jumped slightly, so engrossed in dealing with her mother that she didn’t notice the approaching waiter. He laid down their plates as he apologized, finally passing Raven her coffee. “Thank you,” said Raven, taking a big sip. “You have no idea how much I needed this.” “Have you not been sleeping, Raven? You really should be keeping a proper sleep schedule,” scolded Harpy. “How can you possibly do your job properly if you're downing coffee every ten minutes? Besides, it's incredibly unhealthy for you! No wonder you look so sickly! It’s a wonder you’ve got such a handsome boyfriend when you don’t even take care of yourself.” “Actually, ma’am, me and Raven aren’t dating,” chuckled Garrus, feeling awkward for the first time. “Just friends.” “Oh?” Harpy smirked, leaning in a bit closer and turning her predatory gaze up a notch. “Is that so, Mr. Garrus?” Raven grabbed the waiter on the shoulder as he tried to exit the scene, looking at the stallion with pleading in her eyes. “Please,” said Raven. “Keep them coming.” “Yes, of course.” “Another. Please,” said Raven to the barmaid, downing her third whiskey. “I want to drink until the memories of today leak out of my ears.” “Oh, come on, Inkwell,” yawned Luna, putting away what must have been her fourth drink of the night. Contrary to the norm, Luna was the first of the trio to make it to Ne’er-Do-Wells that night, and she didn’t wait for her friends to arrive before she began drinking. Raven followed in her hoofsteps, immediately skipping over her usual and going straight for the hard liquor. “She can’t have been that bad.” “She told the damn Inkwell origin story. She told the Bridleway story. She kept bringing up the point system…” “Yeah, I was curious about that,” said Garrus. “What’s the deal with the points?” Raven let out a long, tired sigh before dropping her face to table. “When I was a filly, she established this point system,” growled Raven. “I started the week off with 100 points. She could add or deduct points whenever I did or didn’t do my chores, or I talked back, or whatever. If I finished the week with 100 or more points, I got my allowance. Less than 100 and I had to pay her.” “Wow, that sounds terrible!” chuckled Luna. “How often did you go under?” “Every other goddamn week. She was relentless with those points. She once docked me fifty points because I didn’t close the milk jug all the way.” “Well, you don’t get allowance from her anymore,” noted Garrus. “So what’re the points for now?” “To annoy me, I’m sure,” sighed Raven. She happily accepted the whiskey from the barmaid, giving a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you. Well, at least we’re done with that. Won’t have to see her again for some time.” “You plan on avoiding the Royal Archives for the foreseeable future?” asked Luna, lazily flipping her now empty cup with her magic. She seemed oblivious to Raven’s stunned silence for a bit, until she looked up and realized that Raven’s gaze was all but boring through her. “What?” “What about the Archives?” “You didn’t hear? Harpy asked for a job in the Royal Archives, to keep her hooves busy after retirement. Celestia obliged.” “So… My mom… Is now my co-worker…?” “That’s about the size of it, yeah.” Raven pressed her lips together, biting the inside of her mouth to avoid screaming. She knocked back her whiskey, slamming the glass onto the table before waving her hoof wildly to catch the attention of the barmaid. “Another! Please!”