//------------------------------// // VIII // Story: Bedrock // by RazedRainbow //------------------------------// VIII “Oh. My. Goodness.” Mi Amore Cadenza coos each word as she reaches down close enough to one branch that the rose petal on the end flutters in her breath. Odd to see royalty so close to the ground. For the first time since she had approached, I dare to look at her. She wears the crown, of course. The regalia. Expected. Malachite had done similar when he had taken over, dressing up like ‘true’ power and visiting the ‘lower’ folk of the market while still being close enough to the noble houses to not choke on commonality. I look around the market. Each stall seems to be occupied, and though ponies have stopped to stare I hear no distant screams or panic. No, all is calm. Nopony is being 'unponied' today. Too calm, though. I would sneak off, but I can feel the eyes of that guard of hers boring into the back of my head. I want to turn back—there had been something familiar about him—but a spear could be through my eyes before they could lock on if he was one of ‘those’ guards. It was not worth the risk. I move a loose chunk of cobblestone beneath my hoof. Limestone. Dull, but easily crushable. Rock dust in the eye. Just enough to disappear, grab Haystack, and go. “Shiny.” Cadenza is singing her words now. Were it not for the horn and tiara, I would have thought it was a teenage filly beside me. She has moved over to the petrified stumps. “Would these not look lovely in the throne room? Crystal and nature as one.” She claps her hooves together. I look for acne. To complete the teenager cycle, her smile vanishes in an instant as she turns to the guard. Safe to steal a glance now. Yes, just as I expected: golden armor, golden helm, various scars, steely eyes. The guard I had tried to duck. Of course, upon blinking again, I notice that steel has started to bow. After all, there is no hotter forge than the glare of a royal ignored. “Shining Armor,” she hisses. “We are here as a couple. I am your wife, not somepony you need to escort. Drop the ‘Captain.’” “I’m not letting my guard down,” he answers the moment she finishes. The back of her head is to me yet I can see her roll her eyes. “Take a look, Shiny.” She turns and motions in all directions, forehooves toward the stick seller, wings towards the other stalls, and her eyes… set right on me. I blink. No, through me. Not my face, but my legs. The wheels. “These are simple ponies, not threats.” If you only knew, Princess. Shining Armor frowns. “Cadance, you’re smarter than this,” he hisses. “‘No threats.’ There are always threat—” She cuts him off with a hoof over the mouth. “I understand, dear,” she says, “but it is not just ‘love’ I can feel in the air. I can sense the opposite. The breeze here carries only love”—she looks at me—“or… indifference. No hatred, though. Not for me, at least.” She moves her hoof to his cheek. “It’s okay. We’re okay now.” He says nothing. He does not look at her, nor me. His head is angled to another guard to his left, crystal helmet the only part visible over his burly form. There is a static spark of blue. The spear in his hooves twist. He sighs. “Yeah.” He shakes his head. “They’d look fine.” He does not even look in their direction. She smiles and nuzzles him on the cheek. “I can always trust your eyes.” Her voice is a light whisper, one with a story buried in it. She glances at the crystalline guard behind him. She puts her muzzle next to Shining Armor’s ear and I can barely make out another “It’s okay.” She turns to the vendor. “How much, dear?” Combine the slack jaw, pinprick eyes with the bowl cut and he is actually kinda cute. “Uh…” He blinks. “Technically, twenty bits each, but for you… consider them a gift.” I can hear a question mark at the end. Almost changes pitch, even. “Your Majesty,” he throws in as the guard behind her growls. Cadance shakes her head and smiles. Her horn lights up and the petrified wood floats before her. Twist, turn, hold the tongue right. Was she a jeweler in a past life? She repeats the process with a second stump before plopping them down next to her guard-cum-husband. Another flash of magic and an entire coin purse rests on the rug. “Thank you.” She looks at him, then me, then him, then me again. I cannot tell who she is talking to when she says, “I wish you well.” Did she just wink? She is gone before I can answer that question. I hear the shopkeeper call out an unhearable ‘Goodbye,’ and catch sight of her, stumps held close by magic, following this Shining Armor character flank-to-flank before catching sight of some other stand. She is washed away by a gathering circle of ponies. That is our hope? And Haystack says the storm chances are poor. Sunbeams now, but I can see the thunderheads of a thousand coups ready on the horizon. Speak of the devil, I can hear him wheezing before he can squeeze through the crowd. His diet of Neighshville whisky and caramelized hay bits was catching up to him a lot quicker than he was catching up to me. “Thank Celestia,” he huffs as he pops through a couple wandering grandmares and plops down in front of me. “Hello,” the merchant and I flatly harmonize. Haystack waves a hoof in the air as he catches his breath. “Well,” he gasps and motions towards the Princess, “this is why I need to read the reports every morning, yeah?” He shakes his head. “Princesses and Uncles and Cousins in the same damn place. I’m still waiting for the shots.” He is not the only one. “Technically,” the merchant butts in, “this was an unannounced visit. None of us had any way of knowing.” Haystack and I cock our heads at him. No way. Haystack finds his voice where I cannot. “Cousin? Cousin of... Benches? Branches…? Cousin of… ugh, crap.” “‘Cousin of Sticks.’” Haystack blinks. “So you are a Cousin. The Cousin here, yeah?” The merchant nods. “Mudbriar. Eyes and ears of the market,” he recites. Hadn’t heard the name before, but ‘Cousin’ is ‘Cousin.’ Makes us harder to track. Looks like it works. Haystack blinks and reaches for the flask he had left back at the house. He smacks his lips. “You’re expecting us, right? Needle… umm, Needle in the Haystack?” He glances at me. “That’s still the sign, ain’t it?” Haystack never was one for the code names. Farmer and his cronies were. I nod, as does the merchant. His focus is not on Haystack. He looks right at me. “And this is the legendary Maud the Marauder.” He nods towards my back, and the wheels. “Good disguise.” Guess the secret’s even safe among Cousins. I nod. He is still looking towards my back. Waiting for me to break character, perhaps. He is lucky he is cute or he would be getting the two that work to the face. Haystack cuts the silence. “You got the order?” Mudbriar finally breaks his stare and nods once more. He rises and rummages through the small cart behind him. Hm. Leggy—but like twigs. Flat flanks. I am more a ‘personality’ mare anyway, and he’s pretty good there at least. He emerges from the sea of wood with two small sticks in each hoof, leafs bunched from the top to the bags at the bottom. “Ah,” I say. “More sticks.” What a surprise. “Saplings, technically.” He places them at my hooves. “Future Fuji trees for Sweet Apple Acres.” At least it is not a heavy delivery. Was hoping for something better for the cause, but maybe Haystack is right about the changing weather. “Ponyville, huh?” Predictable. Obvious. After all that happened, that would be where they’d be. Good farming around the gorges. Haystack chuckles. “All Farmer’s benches and fountains come from there. Surprised you didn’t recognize your sisters’ handiwork.” I almost chuckle. Almost. Flashes of griffon body slammed through granite zip through my mind. Still feel bad for the rock. I knew it was ours. Just not sure where from. “Other things on my mind,” I manage. I cannot take my eyes off the newborn trees before me. “This is it?” I ask. There had to be more. “Yep.” Haystack takes a raspy breath. “Just in the nick of time too. Next train leaves in”—he looks to the giant clock overlooking the square—“twenty minutes.” He clops a hoof on the ground like a father trying to get his filly to leave a candy shop. I sigh and tuck the saplings in my saddlebags. This was it. The shopkeeper, Mudbriar, suddenly lets out a breath as I walk past. A light change, noticeable only by a filly hoping for a farewell. I glance over my withers. He is looking back there again. I check, and see why. One of his branches had gotten a little too close, somehow gotten latched to my dress and left a good scratch on my flank. I could see red coming to the surface already. “Sorry, Cane can be a bit clingy.” He reaches down. I try to pull away but not much I can do back there anymore. He stops. “It’s alright,” he says and pulls my dress from the snag. Gentleman. Touches nothing but the dress and metal accidentally or otherwise. Still, my heart races. I am there again. The smell of alcohol and blood, a rip in the smoke. Another slightly-louder breath pulls me free from my thoughts. He is staring still, mouth open slightly. Chances are he finally noticed the atrophy. Secret’s out for this one. He is sweet, so I hope that is all. It is a while before he speaks again. “I have a bandage if you need it. Some ointment too,” he says. “That looks like it hurts I shake my head. “Don’t worry. Technically, it’s nothing.” It takes a while but the joke seems to hit. His lips turn up ever so slightly. His eyes are still shimmering though like Limestone when Marble would twist an ankle pulling a cart from the quarry and she thought nopony was looking. Not as dull as he lets on. Cute and understanding: keep it up, Mudbriar. A thousand words seem to fill his mouth as he opens it, but can only muster one statement as he waves. “See you later.” I almost smile.