//------------------------------// // 3. Grounded in Unreality // Story: My Farrier Lady, Sunspot // by Georg //------------------------------// My Farrier Lady, Sunspot Grounded in Unreality The sharp nip of winter was filling Canterlot, sweeping down the streets and ruffling the coats of briskly trotting ponies. It made the warmth of the forge get sucked away by the weather at an alarming rate, but the bar was nearby, and the two friends hurried to get one beer before Nails had to depart on his date. “You should come by my parents’ house sometime when Lady Grassholm is visiting, Ham.” As a unicorn, Nails managed to keep trotting along while running a brush through his short mane and fretting. “You’re my best friend, and she deserves to meet you.” “I think you need to concentrate on your own good looks and shining personality,” said Hammer. “A couple of dates with this young mare should let you know if she’s finally the one.” “Gentlecolts?” A Royal Guard in full armor floated down from the sky and landed with a brief skid sideways in an unanticipated gust. “Hammer and Nails, I presume? Sergeant Stalwart Sentry. I’ve got orders to bring one of you back to the palace to help out with an incident involving Princess Celestia’s student.” “That took a lot longer than I expected,” said Nails before getting a nervous twitch in his bottom lip. “My date’s going to kill me.” “I’ve got this one, Nails.” Hammer patted his partner on the shoulder and turned to the stern guard. “She blew off another shoe, I presume?” “Not… um…” The guard’s eyes did not meet Hammer’s curious gaze. “You’re going to have to see this. And bring your tools.” - - Ω - - A short time later, Golden Hammer found himself escorted into what he vaguely recognized as the residential wing of the palace, which was populated exclusively by visiting ambassadors, honored guests, and the Princess herself. The pristine white tiles of the floor were made out of flawless marble, polished to a gleaming perfection that was only matched by the rest of the elaborate decor. His eyes wandered to and from the colorful tapestries depicting pivotal moments of Equestrian history, ancient maps of distant lands, and one display that appeared to be the family tree of a long-dead line of nobility. There were coats of arms from famous military families, sculptures of famous scholars, memorials to heroes long gone, and one small portion of Hammer’s mind could not help but think of the humble farriers who had shod them all with no credit at all. It must have been extraordinarily difficult to keep the palace in this beautiful condition. An entire herd of busy servants were bustling to and fro, while the impassive Royal Guards positioned in strategic points watched with what Hammer could discern as small smiles and the occasional fractional nod of recognition. If Canterlot was the heart of Equestria, these ponies were the lifeblood that made it all function, carrying on their tasks at the direction of Princess Celestia and the close advisors in her shadow, like Spot. The whole place was more than a little overwhelming, since Hammer was not used to any surroundings this fancy, or even meeting nobility who normally had their own custom shoes done in custom stores. A sense of hidden tension continued to grow while the guard escorted him onward, rising to a jittery nervousness when Stalwart Sentry directed Hammer through a wide set of double doors and remained outside. It was a wing of the palace he never thought he would see, and a meeting with a winged pony he never thought he would meet. “Ah, Golden Hammer, I presume?” His father’s favorite story had always been the time he had shod Princess Celestia, whom he had simply described as ‘large and in charge.’ The radiant alicorn who stood a few paces away was indeed large, because Hammer had to look slightly up to meet her beautiful pale violet eyes. And she most certainly was in charge, from the way her presence simply dominated the otherwise empty room. Princess Celestia in all of her restrained glory fairly glided forward to give Hammer a brief nod before pointing him to where several pieces of furniture had been stacked up and a dust throw tossed over the top. It was an odd lump of stuff to find in the large chamber, which looked more like a disused storage room than anything a Princess of Equestria should be found inside. “I believe you know my student, Twilight Sparkle?” “We’ve met,” came a thready voice from under the dusty cloth. “Twilight had a little incident,” said Celestia in a throaty, warm contralto that sent a thrill up Hammer’s spine. “She was showing me how much magic she could channel now, and… Well, I’m afraid it is easier to show than to describe.” The princess’ golden magic surrounded the furniture and the tarp, gently whisking them away to one side. It revealed Twilight Sparkle standing with her head down and her legs splayed out as if she were braced for something powerful, like casting a spell… Golden Hammer followed the direction of Twilight’s horn to a nearby table with a bowl of oranges on it, only the oranges did not look quite… orange. More like the glistening of gold. “Transmutation?” he hazarded. At Twilight’s hesitant nod, he added, “You probably should have only started with one orange.” “I did,” said Twilight Sparkle, “but the replication spell interacted with—” To be honest, the little unicorn said quite a few more things after that, but he had gotten very familiar with tuning out Silver Nails whenever he went off on an enchanting tangent. Hammer simply nodded in the right places and made the occasional encouraging grunt while reaching into his toolbox and extracting a chisel along with the appropriate-sized mallet. She even did not stop talking while Hammer examined the first frozen forehoof, whose shoe appeared to have melted partially into the marble with little splatters of gold sprayed out in a pretty lace pattern from vaporized sections of the shoe. He put the chisel away and got out an awl punch. Six gentle taps to drive out the nails later, he lifted up Twilight’s delicate bare hoof and placed it to one side of the shoe still fused to the marble tile, with the stubby nails standing intact like porcupine spines. “Oh, don’t worry about breaking the tile,” said Celestia very softly, which made Hammer startle a little since he had nearly forgotten about her quiet presence. “The shoes are blown anyway. I just thought the shoe enchantments and the spell she was doing might have interacted, so it was safer to simply remove the shoes now and have one of the school’s professors deal with the leftovers,” said Golden Hammer in a long string of unbroken words that just flowed out of him when he met Celestia’s beautiful eyes. “She can walk around barehoof for a day or two until Nails can enchant a new set of shoes. He’s out on a date,” added Hammer totally by accident. One divine eyebrow ascended. Twilight Sparkle stuck her tongue out. “Eww,” she declared with all the authority of youth. Hammer decided he had talked enough for the week and started to remove another one of Twilight’s shoes. “You’re talking about the nice unicorn who is going to enchant your new shoes,” chastised Celestia, aimed in the direction of her student although Hammer felt a little of the criticism splash onto him by proxy. “He didn’t do a very good job on these,” countered Twilight while Hammer was gently tapping the nails out of another shoe. That criticism was a little close for Hammer’s comfort. He finished tapping out the nails until the second hoof came free, then put the mallet and nail punch to one side. “Princess Celestia, if I may?” He held out his hooves and watched as the Princess of the Sun slipped out of her golden slipper and placed her large hoof practically in his lap. Turning it around gently so Celestia would not tip over, he presented it for Twilight Sparkle’s inspection next to her much smaller shoe with the nails still sticking out of the top. “As a student, can you tell me the difference between these two shoes?” It took a while for Twilight to get her thaumaturgical spell comparison started, but since her hind hooves were still quite solidly welded in place, Hammer let her talk. And talk. And once he realized that the little unicorn had a near infinite number of things to say, he let Celestia reclaim her hoof and interrupted. “Her shoes are larger. I don’t know much about enchantments, but I do know that Princess Celestia has a greater surface area to dissipate magical energy than you, so Nails is going to have to make shoes better than hers to keep you from welding yourself down in the middle of another spell.” Twilight made a little ‘o’ of realization with her mouth, but before she could start up again, Hammer picked up the nail punch and mallet while moving to the next welded hoof. “Silver Nails is the best practical enchanter I know of,” he continued through the handle of the mallet while tapping away. “Graduated in the middle of his class, so you wouldn’t know it by just looking at his papers. He learned most of the trade from his father and the rest from Celestia’s school. He may not be able to make the big, fancy magical displays like some of the school unicorns, or prove some obscure theory of unicorndom from a few centuries ago. All he does is shoes, but he does those far better than any unicorn in Canterlot. Well, he also does these little metal and enchantment puzzle things when there’s nothing going on at the shop.” Twilight promptly brightened up and tried to turn to face him, only to hop slightly. She almost fell down on the sharp nails of the three removed shoes if Golden Hammer’s quick reactions had not caught her. He held Twilight upright until she got her loose hooves underneath herself, then moved to the last trapped limb. “If you can keep from blowing a set of shoes off for a month, I’ll send one of his toys here for you to play with.” “Experiment,” insisted Twilight through the tap-tap-tap of the nails being driven out backwards through her hooves. Once freed from her involuntary imprisonment, the little unicorn scurried over to the bowl of golden oranges. “It worked! It worked!” “Watch this,” whispered Celestia into his ear as Twilight did a clattering barehoof dance of joy in the middle of the storeroom floor. Golden oranges and pages of paper fluttered through the air in pursuit of her until she skidded to a stop by a wicker basket, which was a little incongruous to see in the storeroom. “Spike!” she called out. “Look at this! See! It worked!” Twilight held out a golden orange, which something from inside the basket reached out and grabbed, then tried to pull it back inside only to get it stuck in the handle. A few futile tugs later, a light purple dragon emerged from the bottom of the basket, blinking his eyes and making little smacking noises before adding a second chubby little hand to the task of pulling the golden orange through the basket handle. “What in Celestia’s name is that,” murmured Golden Hammer, transfixed by the draconic hands playing tug-of-war with Twilight. Those little fingers had amazing strength for their size, and were able to hold onto the golden orange even when Twilight Sparkle floated it up into the air, leaving the dragon dangling beneath. “It’s Spike,” said Celestia to Hammer’s side, which made him jump slightly. “He’s an infant dragon Twilight hatched during her entrance examination. A rather unique experience, even in my memory.” “Mine too, Your Highness.” - - Ω - - “You should have seen him, Nails.” Hammer hoisted his tankard and swept it around the half-full bar. This visit would put them further behind on the guard shoe order, but Twilight Sparkle’s little accident made them both critically need a little Away time tonight. “A dragon, a real dragon. Just a tiny thing, no bigger than a wine jug. I caught him teething on one of my hammers. Left tooth marks all over it.” “I’m more concerned about the shoes. Darnit!” Nails let out a sigh and headed for the bar. “You need another beer?” “If you’re buying, I can do one more,” admitted Hammer. “That better be my limit, though. Yours too, since you’ve got…” He thought for a moment. “The gold-level enchantments obviously didn’t work. What do you call an enchantment above gold?” “Platinum,” said Nails, who had stopped his movement toward the bar at the question. “Maybe I better pass up on that second beer too. I’ve got to dig out my old Starswirl books and swot up on shoes tonight… and I said it again.” “Good thing Spot isn’t here or she’d have to stagger home drunk at our expense.” Hammer kicked the empty chair back and gave a wave at it with his empty tankard. “Sit down for a minute, Nails. I think Away is pretty much gone for the night.” “And Spot won’t be here for a few days,” added Nails, although he settled back down in the chair. “You’ve been getting that look in your eyes every time you talk about her, Ham.” “Look.” Hammer took a deep breath and ran a hoof through his mane, scattering a few loose cinders from the forge across the table. “You can stick with Lady Grassholm, romance the pretty mare, work your way into high society, and turn into a Duke if you want. That’s fine. But there’s nothing between me and Spot other than being friends. She has her world, I have mine, and they only intersect here.” Hammer emphasized his last words by tapping the table with a hoof. “And she just walked into the bar,” said Nails. Golden Hammer nearly flipped the table over when he abruptly shifted position to look at the bar’s front doorway, which was Spotless, then turned back to Nails with a frown that matched his partner’s smile. “So there’s nothing between you two?” asked Nails with an upraised eyebrow. “Really?” “There can’t be.” Hammer tapped one large hoof on the table. “She’s half my size. Most mares are half my size, but she’s this fragile tiny thing and I’m… me. Besides, she spends her days with Princesses and nobility, traveling to the far corners of Equestria and dining at the most exquisite places. That’s what you want to do, not me.” “Well…” Nails looked down at the pitted wooden surface of the table. “That’s my dream. Spot didn’t make it sound like she wanted to do that all of the time, and I’ll admit if Lady Grassholm and I go out on some Equestrian tour for our honeymoon, we’re not going to have foreign notables dictating our actions like we’re the Princess, so we can never really understand what she has to go through. You, on the other hoof, have a fine young mare who makes you laugh, and appreciates who you really are. She deals with upper-class twits all day and likes to have a big smokey-smelling lug to relax with, and you have your nose in the coals all day at work and appreciate her fine sense of wit. Besides,” he added with an eye-roll, “you’re both mystery readers.” Hammer grunted. “Just because you like to read the back pages first.” - - Ω - - The next day was substantially different at work, mostly because Nails’ father showed up to work the enchanting bench while his son was buried in research books. Hammer was not much for the intricacies of magical workings, but the idea of a platinum-level enchant on Youth Size K-5 shoes always struck him a little like sticking fifty pounds of explosive oats into a five-pound bag. Tap Brad was not the conversationalist that Nails was, and seemed a little reluctant about coming back out of retirement for a few days, even if he was just as efficient as his son with standard Royal Guard shoe enchants. It left the forge fairly word-free for the morning, a more efficient process of churning out a long set of shiny shoes without most of the fun he had with tweaking Nails. Until a visitor broke the monotony. “Hey, Studly! Got those shoes ready for our little firebrand yet?” Spot’s smiling face appeared in the alley doorway, followed promptly by Twilight Sparkle, who trotted right on into the forge area, paused for a moment, then backed up until she was outside again. “Mister Hammer, sir?” Twilight Sparkle sounded chastised. “May I come into your forge and watch you work?” This was a considerably more polite and reserved pony than the Twilight Sparkle from her previous visit, so Hammer gave her a brief nod, followed by a long and well-deserved look at Sunspot. Her bubblegum pink coat was ruffled as if she had been working long, hard hours, and there were a few knots in her tangled magenta mane that he would have done anything to brush out during a long, slow lunch, but none of that mattered. She was a Palace, he was a Forge, and they really could not meet. Well, other than now. “It has been far too long since I’ve been looked at that way, Mister Hammer.” Spot’s mischievous smile shook him out of his extended observation, and made his face feel redder than the close proximity of the glowing coals of the forge could explain. He fumbled with the tongs, putting the shoe he had been working on to one side before returning to his guests and pushing his goggles up on his forehead. “Sorry about that, Ma’am. We don’t have the enchantments for Miss Sparkle’s shoes quite ready yet. My partner Silver Nails is doing some final adjustments and we should be ready to get them finished by early next week. If you want, Miss Sparkle, we have the blanks shaped to your measurements and we can check them against your hooves today.” “That would be… nice, I suppose.” Twilight Sparkle was such a little thing when she walked up next to Hammer, as unafraid of him as any adult he had ever had in the shop. She stuck her hooves out without being prompted, following the subtle differences between each shoe as if she were reading a preschool alphabet book, and did not say a word until Hammer had the last shoe against her forehoof and was considering if he wanted to file back a tiny sliver of hoof or put the shoe into the forge for minor resizing. “May I ask you a question?” Since Hammer’s full attention was on the calipers he was using against her hoof’s edge, he merely grunted, which Twilight Sparkle took as permission to dive straight in. “Are you in an intimate relationship with Miss Autumn Sunspot?” He nearly dropped the calipers. Giving his pint-sized inquisitor a sideways glance, he tried to go back to his work while Twilight continued. “I mean I almost never see her around the palace until we’re scheduled to come here, and she was trotting so fast I could just barely keep up, and I thought Cadence was going to bring me this time but she had this sudden appointment pop up. And all the way here, she kept diverting my questions about you. Cadence says that the intimate relationships between mares and proper gentlecolts should be treated with great decision—” “Discretion.” Sunspot tapped one hoof on the forge floor directly behind Twilight Sparkle, making a staccato tap-tap-tap that turned Twilight’s eager questioning into a more subdued slouch. “Twilight Sparkle, any relationship that I have with Golden Hammer is strictly between us.” It was both correct and hurt Hammer somewhere right around his ribcage. He got out the file to trim back the little sliver of purple unicorn hoof that looked ragged anyway, although Sunspot was not through. “Just because he’s a handsome lug who treats us both like princesses, doesn’t mean I want to drag him off to Celestia and get married.” Hammer dropped his file, and groped around on the floor to find it. Sunspot giggled, which only made Hammer tuck his tail closer to his rear and his ears practically glow with embarrassment. It only took a few soft swipes to get the rough patch of Twilight Sparkle’s hoof smoothed to the point where it matched the shoe blank, then he sat back and put away his tools, trying not to meet Sunspot’s gaze. “Well, we’ve taken up enough of this fine stallion’s time,” said Sunspot. “Come along, Twilight. Mister Hammer, please send word to the palace when her shoes are ready.” “Yes, ma’am.” Although he was trying to keep his eyes to himself, he could not help but look up to catch the last bit of Sunspot’s perky rear vanishing out the door as she chivvied her charge back to the palace. And there was an unmistakable flick to her tail that he was fairly certain had been aimed at the ‘handsome lug’ referenced earlier. It was so distracting that it took him a moment to realize his own rump had lightly brushed up against the forge, which stung him out of his reverie. “Ow.” Hammer rubbed his flank with one hoof and grumbled, “That mare’s going to be the death of me, I swear.” He placed the resized shoes into Twilight Sparkle’s storage box and had begun putting away the rest of his tools when the clatter of a galloping pony could be heard outside of the forge’s back door. “I’ll just be a moment,” called back Sunspot over her shoulder as she rounded the doorframe. “Forgot something.” “What did you forg—” Golden Hammer was totally unprepared for the way Sunspot reared up on her hind legs, took his face in her forehooves, and kissed him once on the nose. “That’s for being such a sweetie with Twilight.” She then placed a gentle kiss on his lips, a bare touch that could be compared to the landing of a butterfly mixed with sweet breath that smelled of cantaloupe and lily petals. “And that’s to remind you of our appointment later this week. I really need some Away time.” Then she was gone, with the fading clatter of hooves and Twilight Sparkle’s distant plaintive voice asking just what Sunspot had forgotten in the forge. Golden Hammer stood there speechless for a while, then brushed the back of his fetlock against his lips. Off to one side, Tap Brad had come out of the enchanting workshop and was standing in the doorway, watching without saying anything. Well, without saying anything out loud. His expression was speaking for him. “There’s nothing between us,” said Hammer once he could talk. With a slow shake of his head, Tap Brad walked across the forge floor over next to him, then punched Hammer lightly on the shoulder. “It’s always best when there’s nothing between a mare and a stallion. Too many young ones pile all kinds of things between them.” “I mean… I don’t think it would work out,” said Hammer, still not quite in control of his sparse words. “There’s only two ponies who can determine that,” said Tap. “I know better than to talk sense into your head. I can’t even convince Nails that he’s making a bad decision with that stuck-up clothes horse he’s gotten hooked on. And I know better than to tell your parents. If your mother knew a young mare had kissed you at work, she’d grow wings and fly here herself.” “Yeah.” Hammer gave a quick look into the forge to make sure he had not left a forgotten shoe to warp and distort in the heat, like his ears felt. “I’m only going to give you one piece of advice,” said Tap as he turned to go back into the enchanting room. “You let that one go and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” * * * Away was lonely. Nails had only been able to stay for one beer and a kabob without onions (on account of his noble mare of the evening), so Hammer had the responsibility of holding down the table until Spot arrived. It was late enough that he was having serious doubts, and thinking serious thoughts. Mostly about Spot. Some about himself. A few about simply ordering enough tankards that all his thinking would go away. “Oh, good. You’re here.” Spot did not merely sit down in the opposite bench, but dropped into the wooden seat like a sack of coal. “I need a beer, as many skewers as Stout can carry in one trip, and—” Spot stopped, looked up at Hammer, and licked her lips. “Here, on the table?” asked Hammer, startled into a glib response. “You’ll frighten the other patrons.” There were several off-duty Royal Guard in the corner, but they did not seem to notice anything but their own discussion and a few expended tankards. Spot appeared to be set back a step, then burst into joyous laughter. “Oh, Mister Hammer. After dealing with Duchess Calperta all day, I’ve needed this far more than anything. Thank you.” “You’re welcome, Spot. And thank you as well. I’ll have one of the garlic and onion skewers, please. Since you’re buying.” Seeing the young pink mare sitting there with her mouth open was the high point to Hammer’s day, mostly because of the growing smile. “Have I mentioned,” started Spot once she had recovered somewhat, “how much I detest going through the entire day with ponies all around me bowing and simpering to power while behind the scenes, they plot against… well, anypony they can find, I suppose.” “It can work up an appetite,” said Hammer, feeling the weight of his worry slide from his back at the sight of her happiness. Even better was the way she ambled up to the bar, retrieved a pair of tankards and some kabobs, then undulated her way back to the table without spilling a drop of beer. “I’ve been thinking,” said Hammer. He took his tankard off the platter that Spot had slid onto the table, and just held it for a time. Spot looked up from a mouthful of roasted onion. “And?” He snagged his own kabob and took a slobbery bite. “I’ve determined that thinking is highly overrated.” “I think you’re right,” said Spot. And throughout the cold winter, there were many occasions when they would gather in Away for just such togetherness. Sometimes just the two of them, sometimes Nails would join them, but never more than three. It was a wonderful time.