//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 - For Whom The Bell Tolls // Story: A New Year's Toast of Tea // by Witching Hour //------------------------------// “And that was Marina Caballo and Tono Cejilla with ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’. Coming to you live from Coltafeller Center off Moons Square for WCAN FM 128.0, Radio Ohz, this is Sticks Freeland minutes away from the ball drop and the start of a new year!” Witch sits near the radio, sipping her tea and listening as the various ponies around her converse, killing time until midnight. No one near her was trying to include her in their conversation, nor had they addressed her directly since she’d sat down here after the poker games had broken up beyond the occasional solicitous query about needing a refill on her tea, and she was immensely grateful for that mercy, since her nerves were starting to get the better of her. In spite of the fun she’d had that evening, Witch finds herself wondering how much longer she would need to stay. It wasn’t because of anything done or said at the party, but because her ritualistic schedule had been thrown out the window nearly sixteen hours earlier, and sudden changes in routine upset her. Even if it were a good change, which this evening decidedly had been, the upheaval of her daily habits takes an exacting toll on her, and she finds herself wishing again that she’d not left her home. “Hm, I haven’t seen a face that grumpy since last time I saw my grandfather,” a new voice chimed in, “or the last time I looked in the mirror after being forced to attend a ‘party’ of a fellow Peer.” Witch shakes her head quickly, denying the accusation as she looks up from her teacup to see Duchess Diamond Star. “Not grumpy, your grace. It’s just been a stressful day. I… I don’t deal well with changes in routine on short or no notice.” “Too much routine is bad for you,” the duchess retorts, smiling kindly. “I work with your granddaughter and her squad at the Compound. How much routine do you think I have?” Witch replies dryly, making Diamond Star chuckle. “Far more than that would imply, I’m sure,” she responds with equal dryness. “Bronze told me that you had the day off from your superiors, but you spent your day working for your mother instead. You should let yourself relax once in a while, young lady. There are plenty of reasons you should take care of yourself. As a doctor, you should know all of them, and probably several more that haven’t been published in a medical journal yet. ” “I like my job, and I like my coworkers. There’s nothing wrong with wanting my routine even on my birthday,” Witch states defensively. “Oh dear…” Diamond Star shakes her head ruefully. “The rate you’re working, you’ll wind up either burned out or in charge…” She eyes Witch thoughtfully for a long moment. “I’ll have to put a word in with my bookie. You look like one who’ll wind up in charge…” “Dear gods, please no…” Witch protests. “That’s the last thing I want!” “My dear young mare, life often takes you by the fetlock and hauls you towards your just rewards,” Diamond offers with a dark chuckle. “Cosmos knows if my grandfather were here he would lecture you on how useless it is to fight fate, and that those who work the hardest often end up held above everyone else. Look at that young Princess Twilight, if you want to see a good example of that in action.” “Would everyone please stop reminding me about how Twilight turned out?” Trying to maintain her composure begins to take a large toll on the unicorn, and her eyes cast quickly around the room, looking desperately for an opportune exit that wouldn’t involve more than one or two hasty excuses. “Grandmother, don’t you have family to torment?” Bronze Star asks sharply, appearing from nowhere. “Are you volunteering?” Diamond retorts, raising an eyebrow at her grandson. “If that’s what it’ll take for you to stop making my guest uncomfortable, then yes,” Bronze says firmly, staring levelly at the family matriarch. “Honestly, Grandmother, where’s your vaunted ability to read a room that you can’t tell you’re terrorizing the poor mare!” Bronze then turns to Witch, his attention fully on her with a kind smile and offers his arm to her. “Come, Doctor. You look like you could use some fresh air. Please allow me to escort you to the balcony.” Witch smiles shakily at Bronze, taking his proffered limb with what appears to be a calm gesture, but through the contact, he can tell she’s trembling. As they walk towards the glazed doors, Bronze casts one more disapproving glance over his shoulder at his grandmother, only to see the old duchess looking rather satisfied with herself as she ensconced herself in a chair to enjoy her tea. “I swear the old nag did that on purpose,” Bronze mutters to himself, then quickly looks to see if Witch had heard him. Though she remains looking forward as the door to the balcony swings open for them, a nearly imperceptible jerk of her arm on his tells him that his sotto voce comment was not as quiet as he would’ve liked. “What gives you that idea, Commander?” Witch asks him after taking a long, deep breath of the cold Silver Moon air. Bronze chuckles sheepishly, having hoped she wouldn’t ask. “It seems that despite, or perhaps because I told my family that you were just a friend who appeared in need of a night away from her responsibilities, they’ve decided I’m turning in my bachelor’s card,” he sighs. “My grandmother is just as much a match-making mama as the next member of the peerage, though she’d throw herself on her sword before she admitted it.” In spite of her nerves, Witch manages to laugh too. “Sounds like my friends and family whenever I spend time with anyone new. You should’ve seen what happened two months ago, when I came back from a month’s leave and found a new friend to bond with over tea varieties. Everyone immediately thought I was flirting with the poor stallion, even though I was only telling him how he could get a decent cuppa.” She sighed heavily then, the anxious look coming back with a vengeance. “I wish it didn’t seem so extraordinary to extend a little kindness to anyone…” Bronze frowns for a moment before an easy smile returns to his face. “It really isn’t that unusual, unless you consider the Peerage, where everyone assumes that any favor must be repaid, quickly and in full measure.” His smile turns slightly self-deprecating. “If you don’t think it’d inspire your friends’ active imaginations further, I’d like to know you better when your routine has not been shredded and tossed to the winds, if you can find time for such an attempt?” Turning to look out over Canterlot from the railing, Witch manages another short laugh. “I think I can fit that into my schedule.” She pauses briefly before turning a dry smile at him. “Metalsday, seven-thirty p.m. good for you?” “What’s this?” Bronze asks, over-dramatizing his astonishment. “The Honorable Doctor setting aside time in her very busy schedule of mother and trainer to humor me? Are you playing a joke on me?” His words could’ve been taken as sarcasm, but Witch somehow, instinctively, recognized that he’s using wry wit to cover his surprise and - yes, Witch could hear pleasure in his tone too. “One thing you should learn quickly about me, Commander Star,” Witch pauses significantly as she turns slightly to meet Bronze’s gaze, “is that I never joke about my schedule.” Her expression remains solemn for a split second before she grins at him, the slight mischievous glint in her eyes winning over her attempt to remain serious. The cheers from inside momentarily distract Witch, drawing her attention to the scene on the other side of the elegant Prench doors where, among other shenanigans, Gold Star had apparently danced briefly with his wife and was now kissing her soundly, and Bronze’s younger brother, Proton, was enduring a tongue lashing from his hippogriff wife, presumably from attempting the same maneuver. Chortling at the sight before them, Bronze again offers his arm to Witch. “Now, my dear doctor, I believe your schedule has been disrupted quite enough for one day, even if you did enjoy some of it. Shall I return you to Coltden?” Witch’s smile turns almost bashful as she accepts the proffered limb. “Thank you, Bronze.”